Brocade Night

Life is like a night wrapped in brocade. You know how dazzling the robe is, yet you can never quite see it clearly. That is all right. I know the night is brocaded. I know I move through it like the wind. I know I am not cold. That is enough. Enough for me to keep walking on in trembling expectation, waiting for the sun to rise at the end of each day.

Along the canal in this city, the municipal government had built a beautiful riverside promenade. Flowering shrubs and climbing roses divided the greenery into stretches of deeper and lighter color. At dusk the fragrance of blossoms floated through the air, and people drifted without purpose along the pebble path and white stone railings, lazy and quietly content with life. Aiko Hayakawa walked against the crowd. She liked it that way; it gave her a strange sense of freshness. As she went, she reached out and stroked the line of white railings. So many hands had touched them over the years that the stone felt smooth and cool. The apartment Oji Kiritani rented for her was two stops away, but on evenings when she had nothing to do, she always came here alone to watch the sunset, to watch the slightly muddy river, to watch groups of people drift past with languid faces and feel, for no clear reason, a kind of peace. Lately, she understood herself less and less. Sometimes she felt full of contradictions. The academy festival was underway at school. As a senior about to face the job market next year, she should have been on campus fighting beside her classmates for every opportunity she could get. And yet here she was, strolling in leisure by the river, because she knew that the road she was walking now had already become completely different from everyone else's.

Was this really the direction she wanted? The corner of her mouth lifted in a faint, self-mocking smile. Just then, a large dog burst into her field of vision, snowy fur, an expression bright as an angel's smile, exactly the Samoyed she loved most. It was obvious that the owner had cared for it with tremendous devotion. Plenty of people nearby stretched out their hands hoping to stroke its coat, but it wagged its tail and slipped through the crowd, running straight to her instead. Aiko was caught completely off guard. A huge white head burrowed into her arms. She startled and stepped back, but the dog only clung closer. She had always wanted a dog like this, but her life felt like groping through darkness, every day full of uncertainty, and she never allowed herself to be distracted. Even so, faced with a dog from her dreams, she still could not help loving it. As she stroked the silky fur, she lifted her head to search for its owner. A boy in a black coat stood there, his face a little pale, his frame a little thin, yet his eyes were astonishingly bright. Soft black hair could not hide the rainbow-like brilliance within them. His lips were rose-colored, like a flower at dawn, and the corners of his mouth curved in the faintest smile.

He stood before her, a head taller than she was, yet his narrow body gave him the drifting air of someone who might be carried away by the wind at any moment. He lowered his head slightly, looking toward the sunset fading behind her. The Samoyed left her arms and ran happily around his legs. So he was the owner. Aiko Hayakawa had never felt so helplessly panicked in her life. She opened her mouth and found herself unable to make a sound. Her lips were dry, as if all the lipstick she had put on had instantly failed her, and there was even a faint bitterness on her tongue. She struggled to smile at him. "Sei..." The single syllable died halfway out. She did not know whether she should call his name. She knew he had woken up. The days when she sat at his bedside, drawing comfort from his sleeping face, were over. But did he know who she was? Had he already learned that she was the fox-spirit woman who had seduced his father? Cold sweat broke over her skin. Seiya Kiritani raised a hand behind him, and the big dog obediently dropped to his feet. His fingers were long and fine. Back when he had lain sleeping in the hospital, she had once held her own hand beside his for comparison. She had always been proud of the beauty of her hands, but next to his, even she had felt ashamed. Now Seiya wore an apologetic expression and said softly, "Did Tama scare you? She's just mischievous." He smiled, almost shyly. Aiko had not expected that. Instantly, she grew wary. She had no idea why Seiya Kiritani was here or whether he had recognized her, so all she could do was shake her head. He seemed relieved. He patted the dog's head lightly and said, "No more mischief next time." Then he turned back to Aiko, apologized once more, and continued on his way. Tama trotted after him, wagged her tail at Aiko one last time, and then hurried to stay close beside her master. Aiko remained where she was, watching that retreating figure. Boy and dog together looked like a beautiful painting, one that drew glances from everyone around them, though he himself seemed completely unaware. She could tell from his eyes that he took her for nothing more than a stranger. He did not know her. He had never known her. Everything had been a dream she made up for herself. Relief flooded her, and then, all at once, her nose stung.

After that, Aiko found herself walking by the canal more and more often. Unless it was pouring rain, she appeared there almost every day at exactly the same hour. But the person she waited for never showed up again, not until one week later, when Tama suddenly reappeared and nudged at her with that big head of hers. Aiko almost burst into tears with joy. Naturally she did not let Seiya notice her discomposure. From Oji Kiritani, she had already learned that although Seiya had awakened, he remembered nothing about why he had suddenly returned to Japan before the accident, nor anything about the chaos that had followed. In order to let him recover properly, the Kiritani family had arranged temporary leave from school. What surprised Oji most was that after waking up, Seiya's personality had changed completely. He had once been cold, self-centered, all hard edges and thorns, yet now he seemed to have returned to the soft temperament of his childhood, quiet and mild, no longer sharp enough to wound. The two brothers, once bitterly at odds, had clearly grown closer. It counted as a blessing inside misfortune. Seiya had even gone out and bought a dog to raise for fun, something utterly unimaginable in the old Seiya. That dog was, of course, Tama. By now, Aiko had confirmed that Seiya truly had not recognized her. Perhaps to avoid upsetting him, the Kiritani family had concealed Oji's affair from him, and the divorce had been postponed as well. When Nishiki Oda, full of fear and unease, called Aiko and asked her to wait a little longer, saying the divorce would have to be delayed, Aiko agreed as if under a spell. Nishiki was astonished. She could never have guessed that the change in Aiko's attitude had something to do with her younger son. Everyone had gone in a great circle and returned to the beginning. Life was full of riddles. No one could truly see the face of the person standing only an arm's length away.

Now, the thing Aiko looked forward to most was meeting Seiya Kiritani at dusk. He had already grown familiar with this girl in the white dress. She told him to call her Aiko. Whenever she appeared, he smiled that gentle, slightly shy smile of his. Sometimes the two of them sat side by side on the bench by the water and talked while Tama ran circles around their feet. One day he told her that not long ago he had been in a car accident and had remained unconscious for three whole months afterward. Aiko feigned surprise. He had woken up at last, yes, but afterward he found himself facing a new kind of trouble. "I keep feeling that I've lost something," Seiya said. "The more time passes, the sadder it makes me. I'm sure I forgot something important." Aiko's heartbeat thundered in her ears. He went on, "I always feel as if, while I was unconscious, there was a girl who used to talk to me. Those days were so quiet. Hearing her voice was the happiest thing I had." Her heart pounded like a drum, but she managed to hide it in the end, only turning her face aside as if to bring up something else. Yet the girl from his dream came up in Seiya's words more and more often. He could not tell whether she belonged to dream or reality, and that troubled feeling was something he found impossible to share with anyone else. Aiko became his best listener. In truth, every time she heard him speak about that strange, wondrous experience, she nearly lost control and wanted to cry out, That was me. But every time she forced the words back down. She knew what would happen if she spoke. It would mean disaster. All around her, dark eyes shone coldly in the shadows. One wrong step and she would fall straight into the abyss. Yet she could not control the desire that kept pushing her forward. The boy in black was like a spell on her, like a shepherd's flute sounding from the deepest place in her soul, waiting for her to come to him. The poison was so sweet that the harder she tried to avoid it, the more powerless she became. Lately, whenever Oji stayed the night at her apartment, she found herself reacting with an inexplicable wave of nausea whenever he tried to be intimate with her. The sensation startled even her. Her own body had begun rejecting the prey she had chosen. It was a terrifying sign. She did not dare ask herself why.

Another rainy day arrived. The city had been under a hard downpour for two straight days. The river was swollen and had climbed dangerously close to the embankment. No one came to stroll by the water. Everyone hurried through the streets with lowered heads. And yet on a bench atop the riverbank sat a boy dressed in black, a white dog lying close beside him. In his hand he slowly turned a transparent umbrella. He seemed oddly fascinated by the raindrops hitting its surface, watching them leap and race down toward the earth, where they gathered into tiny puddles before his shoes. Tama pressed tightly against his side. Stranger still, neither boy nor dog seemed especially wet. No matter when or where they appeared, they carried the same inexplicable grace and composure, as if the world's noise lived far away from them. Precisely because of that, they drew more eyes than anyone else. They had already been sitting there nearly an hour. The rain showed no sign of stopping, and the sky was growing dim. Seiya let out a sigh so slight no one else would have noticed it. He shifted a little, drew his gaze away from the umbrella, and when Tama made a low sound in her throat, he stroked the raindrops from her damp back with one hand. Then he lowered his head again and began studying the clumps of gardenia by the bench with complete concentration. Yesterday, Aiko had arranged to meet him here today. She had asked him to bring her a CD by her favorite singer. Yet now it was raining, and she had not appeared. He did not seem anxious. He knew she would come. Ever since childhood, he had been used to calculating the timing and order of things, and he liked events to unfold exactly as he expected. He was rarely wrong. Evening had brought a colder edge to the riverbank air. Seiya slowly shifted the umbrella from his left hand to his right, then extended his left hand into the curtain of rain and gently touched a gardenia drenched in water. His movement was so tender, his fingers so long and beautiful. The rain struck the back of his hand, and the thin skin seemed almost translucent. He did not lift his head, yet between his long lowered lashes a gleam flashed, one no other person could have seen. He bent the stem and picked the flower. Then he turned, rose to his feet, and with one precise, graceful movement tucked the flower into the hair of the breathless girl who had just come running up before him. "All the others have withered," he said. "Only this one is still in bloom." There was not the slightest trace of impatience or unease in his voice. Whether the world was tangled in great ropes of rain or blazing with sunlight seemed to make no difference to him. He had a little world of his own. A boy like that, no, perhaps a man by now, made people feel safe simply by existing. He was like a devil wearing an angel's skin. He drove her mad.

Aiko was still gasping for breath. In the end, she had come. Two hours earlier, Oji had suddenly called to say he was coming over for dinner. He liked the little dishes she made with her own hands. In the past, she had always obeyed him in everything, meeting his visits as if facing a great enemy and preparing for them with all her strength. But today she had desperately wanted any excuse to refuse. In the end, though, she was afraid of making him suspicious. Distracted and anxious, she got through the meal, then finally escaped afterward with the excuse that she had promised to pick something up from a classmate. She had no idea whether Seiya would still be waiting. But when she saw, from a distance, that quiet figure and the white dog still sitting calmly in the rain, the defenses around her heart finally burst apart. Yes. She had fallen in love with him. Perhaps ever since the very first moment in that hospital room, the first instant she saw him, she had already loved him, this boy who alone in the world could calm her heart. The answer was too frightening. She had not dared face it. After all her calculations and schemes, she had stumbled into the first love of her life, a love with no purpose and no profit, only love. When he smiled, ten thousand flowers bloomed in her heart. When he slept, simply watching him made her feel at peace. She was in a panic, at a loss, and this was exactly the person she should never have fallen for. Thinking of the tangled bonds between herself and the Kiritani family, she felt filthy. How could she be worthy of a boy as pure as a lotus? And how could she abandon this love that churned inside her as though it meant to last until death? At last she understood why Aoba Hayakawa had once thrown herself into marriage with such courage and finality. She too must have been consumed by a fire like this, unable to control such sweetness and despair. Had Aiko been happy before? Yes, she had. When she imagined herself staying forever by the side of the powerful master she had chosen, when she imagined the day she might become the mistress of the Kiritani family's grand cars and lavish villas, she had once felt happy. But now she finally understood how small all that happiness was compared to the happiness of loving someone. To fall in love with one person was a joy so overwhelming it covered the sky, surged like a flood, and made reckless devotion seem natural. How could she let it pass her by? How could she give it up?

She had never given up anything she wanted. Never. She was already in hell. What did she still have to fear? If he was an angel and she a witch, then either she would drag him down or he would save her. Suddenly she threw away the pale blue umbrella in her hand and, in the rain that seemed to weave that brocade night itself, rushed into the shelter of his umbrella and wrapped both arms around him, doing at last what she had always wanted to do and never dared. She held that seemingly fragile body with all her strength, as if she wanted to press herself into him and prove that this moment was real. She did not say a word, but tears still mixed with the rain on her face. With her face buried in his chest, she did not see him notice the warmth of those tears. Tama lifted her head in surprise and stared at the two familiar people before her, baffled. A moment passed, yet it felt as long as a century. Just when Aiko was about to despair, Seiya finally raised the hand that was not holding the umbrella and drew her into his arms, patting her lightly on the back. Neither of them spoke. That tiny movement alone was enough to make her cry out in a broken sob. Her grip loosened. She had finally been answered. She could not see what Seiya had already noticed: a tall man in gray standing in the rain, without an umbrella, his gaze so cold and vicious that even through the curtain of water it was impossible to meet. Without betraying anything, Seiya eased his own body a fraction away, opening a little space between himself and Aiko. At that very moment, the man in gray strode toward them and reached them in seconds.

Aiko had just lifted her face in joy when she froze, as if she had become trapped inside a silent film. The gray-clad man descended like a wrathful god, driving one heavy punch into Seiya's chest. Seiya seemed about to dodge, but if he moved he would expose the unprotected Aiko behind him to the man's attack. In that single flash of hesitation, he lost his only chance and was knocked backward into the flowering shrubs by the path. Aiko let out a sharp cry. It was Kazuma Oshima. She had no idea when he had begun following her. Lately he had shown increasing dissatisfaction toward her. He had been furious that she agreed to Nishiki Oda's request to delay the divorce. She had deliberately kept her distance from him, but in the end he had realized that everything might be because of Seiya's reappearance. After all, during that time it was Kazuma who had arranged her visits to Seiya's hospital room. Perhaps he had assumed that a vegetative patient could never create trouble, and that Aiko's attention was only a passing whim. He had never imagined that Seiya would wake up, nor that Aiko would truly fall in love with him. To him, the greatest threat to their plan had appeared. He had to stop it. So he followed Aiko, confirmed that she had indeed come to meet Seiya, and after seeing them embrace, finally lost control and rushed forward. The instant Kazuma struck, Tama lunged at him in a wild storm of barking, only to have him evade her with terrifying agility. He seized the loose fur at her neck and clamped his hand over her muzzle so that she could neither bite nor cry out properly. Tama let out muffled whines and thrashed all four legs, unable to resist. Even the passersby were frightened by Kazuma's size and ferocity. No one dared gather close. Seiya had already lifted his head. He looked at Tama, then at Kazuma. Brutality blazed openly across Kazuma's face. The boy lying among the bushes looked soft and breakable, but the calm, fathomless gaze he fixed on Kazuma was exactly the same as it had been in childhood. No, after all these years, there was even more in it than before, though those things were hidden like treasure at the bottom of the sea. You knew they were beautiful. You simply could never see them clearly. That gaze made a man like Kazuma feel stupid and filthy, like mud stuck to the bottom of someone else's shoe, and it drove him into a fury of self-loathing. He had always hated that look in Seiya's eyes. He would never forget that when they were both children, Seiya had looked at him with that very gaze and driven the point of a compass into his right eye. His big, powerful body began trembling again. All the old hatred surged up with the new. He wanted to tear the person before him apart, but he did not know whether his shuddering came from excitement or fear.

Aiko saw that Kazuma had almost lost his reason. Grinning strangely, he moved closer to Seiya, who was slowly pushing himself up. Her hands and feet turned cold. Only then did she truly realize how dangerous it was to have once made common cause with Kazuma Oshima. He had once been the most useful helper in her plans. Now he was the man she feared most. Yet there had never been a moment like this, a moment in which she herself had less need of reason. She had just received Seiya's answer. Her love had only just opened into flower. She would not allow anyone to touch it. Even if someone so much as bruised one leaf, she could fight like a wild beast defending its young. Without warning, she threw all her strength into ramming Kazuma. Unprepared, he actually staggered back two steps, giving her enough room to throw herself between him and Seiya. She forced all her rage into her beautiful face and growled through clenched teeth, "If you touch him again, I swear I'll make you regret it." She knew what mattered to Kazuma. He wanted a certain result, and until that result was secured, she was still one of the pieces on his board. She was gambling that he would not dare destroy her. Sure enough, he gave a tiny start, as if something had occurred to him, and slowly unclenched his fist. He was no longer the impulsive brute he had once been as a boy. He knew that some things mattered even more than hatred. Freed at last, Tama whimpered and ran back to Seiya's side, lowering her head like a child that had done wrong. Kazuma gave a cold laugh. "You owe me an explanation." Aiko let out a breath and nodded. "Go back first." This time Kazuma did not insist. He turned to leave. But at that exact moment, he stopped again and turned around. Aiko's heart lurched back into her throat. Yet Kazuma did not come any closer. He only spoke in a slow, peculiar voice to the person behind her. "Seiya Kiritani. Do you still know who I am?" Seiya had already stepped out from behind Aiko. His clothes were soaked through, and his face looked almost ghostly in its whiteness, but the cut along his neck was bright with blood. He regarded Kazuma calmly, as if the person who had just been struck and thrown down were someone else entirely. Then he said, "Kazuma Oshima. Long time no see." Kazuma froze, then let out a string of cold laughs. "Long time no see. Fine. Very fine. So you do remember me. Good." He spun around and disappeared into the rain.

The next day, Kazuma had been waiting for Aiko at her own house for quite some time. The moment she came in, her mother immediately shouted, "Your sister didn't have one of her fits today." Aiko nodded and gave Aoba Hayakawa's hand a gentle tug. Her sister did look better than usual. She was not locked in her room, her clothes were reasonably clean, and there was even a trace of that sweet, shy beauty she had once possessed. But Aiko had no mood to dwell on any of it. She beckoned to Kazuma, indicating that he should come out with her. Behind them, her mother deliberately raised her voice and said, "Kazuma seems like a good young man." Aiko gave a bitter smile. Ever since the time Aoba had one of her episodes and injured herself badly enough to need the hospital, when Aiko had been unable to spare time to go pay the fees herself and had asked Kazuma to go in her place, he had become a frequent visitor to their home. He did not talk much, but he always found something to help with, and he never came empty-handed. Because of that, Aiko's mother had grown delighted, thinking her daughter who lived as another man's kept woman had finally decided to reform and found herself a decent boyfriend. Aiko had no way to explain, and even less desire to try.

She and Kazuma walked slowly down the familiar old street, ignoring the sideways looks from neighbors that carried all sorts of meanings. In a low voice, she said, "I told you already. The plan hasn't changed." Kazuma did not answer. Instead, he looked with interest at the old buildings lining both sides of the lane. She had noticed long ago that whenever he looked at these people and things she found unbearable, he seemed to feel a strange kind of delight. It puzzled her. At last he spoke. "You're probably wondering why I like this place around your house so much. When I was little, my family lived on a street like this too." A memory lit his eye. "You probably hate places like this. But to me, that was paradise. Streets like that held all the best memories of my childhood. I was the boss of that whole street. Even kids older than me listened when I spoke." After what she had seen yesterday, Aiko did not doubt it for a moment. "But my parents were always desperate to make me study, and study at the best schools too. They thought that was the only way I'd amount to anything." Suddenly, Kazuma spat hard onto the ground, and his face darkened. "So my mother went and slept with the principal of some famous public elementary school. She was pretty back then. Every man on the street wanted her. Even that dead old bastard principal fell for her." Aiko's heart tightened. It was the first time she had ever heard something so filthy spoken in such a careless, almost light tone. "So I got into that school. Turned out I was just a lump of mud that would never stick to a wall. My mother wasted herself for nothing. I got held back in first grade. Other than fighting, I wasn't good at a damn thing. Ha." His voice had grown faster and rougher. Aiko knew he was approaching the part of the story that mattered most.

"Not long after that, something happened that made my mother regret it for the rest of her life. My eye got stabbed blind." Kazuma broke off abruptly, and the air around them seemed to turn cold. Aiko had already begun to guess what he was about to say, but the face that rose in her mind was Seiya's, always so calm and quiet. He hardly even spoke loudly. How could someone like that have done such a thing, especially as a child? Kazuma gave a harsh laugh. "I've never told you before. The one who did it was Seiya Kiritani. His father had money to throw around. In front of that kind of money, my mother could have stripped naked and still been worth less than dirt. So the whole thing disappeared. He stayed in school. I got forced out and had to accept a pile of money from his family. At first my parents still dragged me from doctor to doctor, trying to save the eye. Later they gave up. They used the money to open a mahjong parlor, to gamble, to chase luck. In the end they lost it all. Ha. Ha." He laughed without a trace of humor. Then he stopped walking and turned to face Aiko. Because he was so large, simply standing before him created a kind of pressure, but what he said next was even more suffocating. In a voice cold as iron, Kazuma said, "You're smart. You know exactly why I'm telling you this story. If this business doesn't go according to plan, if I don't get what I want, then I will kill Seiya Kiritani." He lifted his head and glanced at the leaden sky. "Or maybe I'll be merciful. Maybe I'll only take one of his eyes." He laughed again. Inside that laughter, Aiko backed away step by step, consumed by fear.