—Pierre Roti, “An Autumn Dance in Japan”
✦ ✦ ✦
After the praise had abated, Inoue Kaoru said sullenly, “Please forgive those fools who treated you so rudely.” He apologized to Chizuru with a pained expression on his face.
“I have never heard such applause and praise bestowed on a Japanese dancer. Not since this Rokumeikan opened its doors… I have saved face. I am grateful.”
He took Chizuru’s hand in his, squeezed it, then walked away, still sulking.
“Follow me to the veranda,” the count said.
“I will not,” Chizuru answered.
“Why not?”
“Are the people of your country always so difficult?”
He looked angrily at her for a second, then quickly smiled.
“Hm… so. The men in this country treat women politely, it seems. The times have changed.”
“For the better.”
The count laughed out loud.
“You’re very blunt. Indeed, I had heard quite the opposite—that Japanese women quietly support their men, but you, on the other hand, are quite bold. Very well. Will you accompany me to the veranda?”
“Gladly.”
She didn’t know why she had answered this way. He was a diabolical man from a dreadful land. Even so, she was not afraid. Far from it: his smile, and the way he looked at her, his overall air… he was like a father with whom she could feel safe and to whom she could give herself over.
When they stepped out onto the veranda, the two were lit in a blue and red glow.
A thunderous sound followed.
Fireworks shot up from nowhere, resembling an upside-down meteor with a tail; they then bloomed into a colorful flower and faded into the darkness.
“It’s chilly,” Chizuru said.
Everything—from the chill in the air to the scent of flowers, wine, and cigarettes to the melancholy music of the orchestra—hinted at the coming of autumn.
“The creatures of autumn,” muttered the count.
“What?”
“A legend in my country,” the count said, looking at up at the fireworks. His face lit up, then was quickly shrouded again in darkness. “Somewhere in this world, there is a land whose creatures live forever in the season of autumn. A land shut in by thick fog, freezing rain, darkness, and fallen leaves. Wolves roam the earth, and bats fly the air. The earth is dead, the forest withered, and the water is mixed with sulfur. That is where the autumn creatures dwell. Their hearts do not beat, even though they breathe, and their breath is cold as ice. They do not live or die, eat or sleep. They wonder what spring, summer, and winter are like. That is all. But they may be fortunate. They do not feel joy, or sadness or anger; nor do they feel hunger.”
“Does that make them fortunate?”
“More fortunate than some.”
Chizuru gasped. She sensed an awful loneliness behind the count’s words. She felt as if she had learned something of what this demon had had to endure.
Perhaps this man has had to suffer terribly… over his fate as a vampire.
She wanted to console him. But she suppressed those feelings. There was something she needed to ask first.
“Count Dracula, you drank my sister Akane’s blood. Where is my sister now?”
For a moment, the count looked shocked but then quickly regained his composure. “Oh, so you know. Then this will be quick.”
“My sister said she met you at the mansion in Kôjimachi Ward. That must be when you set your sights on her.”
“I’m sorry, but you are mistaken. I did not drink your sister’s blood.”
“What?”
She was about to call him a liar when a woman’s scream came from behind the count. A scream of pure terror.
The count turned around. A middle-aged Japanese woman, paralyzed with shock and fear, was pointing a trembling finger at the count.
“He doesn’t have a shadow!”
A passing couple nearby looked at the count, then at his feet.
Chizuru also looked.
The shadows pooled around the count’s feet were the shadows of the middle-aged woman and the other people around her.
“I dropped my handkerchief. When I picked it up, I noticed he has no shadow!”
The crowd’s eyes swirled with terror. But no one tried to catch him or pointed a weapon in his direction. No one knew how to react. No more could be expected; this is how people react when faced with the incomprehensible.
“So it’s over. We should move along,” said the count.
He grabbed Chizuru by the hips, giving her no opportunity to resist. His fist penetrated the corset and smashed into her side, and Chizuru fell unconscious.
Taking her in both arms, the count ran like a shadow toward the railing.
The moment his body floated in the air, some of the onlookers began to scream.
The black cape flapped like the wings of a bird, and the count landed soundlessly on the ground below.
He ran to a coach hitched to four horses, and after laying Chizuru on a seat inside, jumped into the driver’s seat.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The driver tried to resist, but the count grabbed him by the throat and threw him to the ground.
He cracked the whip over the horses, and the coach started to roll.
Only after the horses had passed the main gate and receded into the distance did someone cry out, “Call for the police!”
Around the same time, Minazuki Daigo had returned to the row houses.
He had hit all the brokerage houses near Count Dracula’s mansion and searched all the vacant properties, but had nothing to show for his efforts.
After having parted ways with them thirty minutes ago, Daigo now headed home, while Jigorô and Shirô walked in the direction of Rokumeikan.
“It is an invitation from Lord Inoue,” Jigorô had said, a bit wearily.
After they had walked to the jinricksha stand, Jigorô paid both fares, and they parted ways.
Daigo’s body felt feverish and as heavy as lead.
Without a doubt, it was the tuberculosis.
As he descended the stone steps, which led to the wooden doors of the row houses, he was met with some odd but familiar faces.
“Hey there,” one of the four men called out. It was Tatsu. He was one of the men who had tried to collect a man’s debt by taking his daughter as payment. It was Shirô and Daigo who had had stopped them.
Daigo smiled back.
That Tatsu had simply admitted defeat back then was refreshing, and Daigo did not have a bad impression of him.
“Just so you know. We didn’t go to your house. That’s not why we came. And the matter of the girl and the debt was given to someone else to handle. Thanks to you and that judo kid, we were fired.”
“That’s—”
“Don’t get me wrong. None of us are blaming you. To be honest, we’re relieved to get out of that line of work. Right?”
The other three nodded at once. The two men, excluding the biggest one, looked embarrassed because they had used a knife against an unarmed Shirô.
“Anyway, it must be fate that brought us together again. We’re just about to go out for a drink. Why don’t you come with us?”
Normally Daigo would have refused, but perhaps he had been depressed by his mother’s death and his own illness.
He agreed, and they went to a local watering hole.
“Hey, there’s Mokichi and his gang.”
Just ahead was a group of young yakuza sitting around a table. They lowered their heads.
The sake and food arrived. After a while, Tatsu pointed to the biggest yakuza and said, “Me and him are from samurai families. One thing led to another, and we’re yakuza now, but maybe we just didn’t persevere enough. That why I was happy to see you that day. To see a samurai who hadn’t lost the soul of a samurai. And still so young.”
Daigo smiled. These yakuza would never know the sorrow deep inside his heart.
“Hey, why are you so sad? Get ahold of yourself and drink up. I’ll take you to a place with some pretty women next.”
Mere moments later, there were bottles of sake, and Daigo’s cheeks had turned bright red.
A woman who brought a new bottle of sake to their table said, “Well, for someone so young, he can certainly hold his liquor. And he’s so adorable I could just eat him up.”
After discussion on a number of unrelated subjects, Tatsu said, “From time to time, we are hired by brokerage houses to get rid of squatters who refuse to pay rent on certain properties. We just heard about something strange happening with one of the brokers we used to work for.” Tatsu began again, “The son seems to have been possessed. He locks himself in his room during the day and only comes out at night. Something about how he’s full of energy even though he hardly eats and goes out somewhere every night— Hey!?”
Daigo stood up suddenly with a stern look on his face.
“Tell me the address of this brokerage house. Right now.”
He demanded this in a voice and with a regard so fierce it was possible to have mistaken Daigo for a demon.