Life Ceremony, page 18
“I see . . . even Reina from college days might have been convinced by something like this?”
“Probably. From now on, you are often going to find yourself with people from different communities. That’s the sort of time you’ll need it. This is my wedding gift to you. Of course, I also put my heart into choosing the wineglasses.”
“Hmm . . . what sort of person is this Haruka?” I asked Aki, thinking it was written in such detail that it would be quicker to hear it than read through it.
“I made her ugly.”
“Ugly?”
“People have more faith in ugliness.” Aki smiled scornfully, gracefully crossing her legs. “People are more easily taken in by ugly things, not lovely things. That’s reality, they’ll say, that’s the truth! Then they follow their own imagination and make up a banal story to satisfy themselves, and they feel reassured.”
“But why?”
“Dunno . . . but when you follow beautiful words with nasty ones, pretty much everyone will crow about how you’ve spoken truthfully. And if you do the opposite, they’ll lament that you’re a hypocrite with your lies. Maybe they find it more reassuring that way. They just can’t relax with the idea of truth being lovely.”
“That’s weird,” I muttered.
Aki stroked my head. “I hope you don’t have to use it, that you can keep it as a reserve self. I prepared it for you as a kind of talisman, just in case. Something to use in an emergency.”
“Thank you, Aki.”
I’d been happy to receive the glasses, but more than anything, I was grateful for Aki’s willingness to put so much effort into understanding me to the best of her ability.
“I’ll let you use my gift at home with Masashi, but how about we have a toast together now too?”
“Sure!”
And so the two of us had clinked our glasses before the résumé.
“Prez, congratulations on your wedding!”
“Thank you. I’ll cherish your gift, Aki. Here’s to the sixth me!”
Aki burst out laughing, and our peals of laughter rang out around the room along with the clink of our glasses.
The next morning, I awoke on the sofa to the sound of Masashi’s footsteps.
“Good morning,” I said.
Looking uncomfortable, he said, “Sorry to have kept the bedroom to myself,” and went into the kitchen, keeping his eyes averted from me.
“Before breakfast, there’s something I want to tell you,” I said.
“Tell me?”
“I’m sorry that I’ve been deceiving you all this time. I want to confess my true self to you.”
His eyes widened.
“To be honest, I’m a hideous woman. I’ve always loathed the world and cursed it, and I’ve spent my whole life covering up that self. And to tell the truth, I’ve always been jealous of you, Masashi. I’m like a monster, hating everything that’s wholesome.”
Masashi looked stunned. I continued in an even voice with my fictitious confession.
“Ever since I was little, I’ve lied about myself in order to be loved. Being starved of affection gradually killed the existence of my true self. Whoever I was with, I tried to gain affection by playing a fictitious character. But inside, the child me was always crying.
“Eventually I started to hate the world. I behaved in ways to make me be liked, and at the same time I began to be obsessed with fantasies of killing people who lived happily. Seeing my best friend, Aki, being accepted and loved just as she was, I was so jealous of her that I even hid her indoor shoes at school. Just because I envied her. I hated everyone who was loved and happy. Even though I knew it wasn’t their fault, I couldn’t control my consuming hatred.
“When I met you, Masashi, I knew you were a perfect target for me. You’re so cheerful and easygoing, and everyone loves you. By getting my hands on someone like you, I’d be getting my revenge on the world. But I couldn’t control my feelings of jealousy. Remember that super spicy soup I made? Hatred made me do that. And it was me who hid your ear cleaner and changed the bathroom light for an old one.”
“You . . .”
“It was me who erased your recording of that soccer program too. I can’t control my hatred of the world. My hands move all on their own accord.”
I didn’t for a moment think he would believe such trite stories. However simple and easy to deal with he was, surely nobody would accept falsehoods like this. Despite my doubts, though, I went down on my knees to him. I pressed my palms together as though confessing my sins to the priest in church and carried on speaking as the sixth version of myself.
The morning sun shone through the gap in the curtains, extending a straight ray of light over the floor in the dim room. It cut between Masashi and me.
“This dirty, ugly, pathetic, stupid, crazy me is the real me, you know. I’m sure you’re disappointed. I’m sorry I’ve deceived you all this time.”
“Do you still hate me so much even now?” He looked bewildered, but his voice was strangely calm.
“I do. Scary, isn’t it? Horrible. I know I’m awful, but it’s also true that I do love you, Masashi. Creepy, right?”
Masashi flew at me, and for a moment I thought he was attacking me, but no. He hugged me to him.
“This is the real Haruka, isn’t it? I’m so happy you decided to show it all, only to me. Thank you!”
I was surprised to see that he was crying. As he covered me in his hug while I knelt there, the ray of light coming from the window shone on him. It looked like a crack splitting him in two.
As he responded to the sixth version of me, a new Masashi was emerging. I was witnessing the precise moment it was happening.
He was operating his muscles in a way he had never done before: the sides of his mouth pulled out, the corners of his lips rising, his nose straightened, the outer corners of his eyes drooped, and his brow furrowed. Having created this face I’d never seen before, he smiled at me.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer all by yourself until now, Ha-chan. From now on, you can show everything to me, and I’ll always provide you with unconditional love. I promise I’ll save you!”
“Ha-chan?” I asked blankly.
Masashi covered his face with even more wrinkles as he tried to impress a compassionate smile on me.
“The Ha is from both Haruka and Hannibal Lecter, and adding the diminutive chan makes it cute, right? And instead of Masashi, you can call me Ma, as in Mother. It’s perfect, don’t you think? From now on, I’ll be your Ha-chan’s Ma. Everything is going to be okay.”
Filled with trepidation, I hugged Ma back. I didn’t know what else to do, and that was the only response I could think of.
“Ma!”
“Ha-chan!”
We hugged each other tight. The coercive atmosphere in our closeted space left us no other choice.
“Leave everything about the wedding to me, too. Your true nature is our secret, but little by little you’ll be able to talk to everyone as the real Ha-chan, won’t you? Promise?”
“I guess . . .”
On the table, the pages of the catalog of the new home the two of us would live in following the wedding flipped over in the breeze from the air conditioner. For the rest of our lives we would be living in a closeted space. From now on, we would be Ha-chan and Ma living in the smallest possible community, a couple.
The easygoing, simple, and cheerful Masashi had already been wiped out of our world. He might still exist somewhere where I’m not, but I would never meet him again.
For some reason, tears streamed down my face as I clung to Ma. I really didn’t know whether I was playing up my act of responding or mourning the loss of Masashi.
“Ha-chan!”
Noticing my tears, Ma rubbed my back, his face filled with sadness, but also somehow mixed with joy. His hand was giving shape to my outline as he stroked me.
Repressing a scream, Ha-chan closed her eyes in Ma’s arms. The ray of light coming through the curtains was extinguished by a black cloud covering the sky outside.
Sayaka Murata, Life Ceremony
