Chapter 1

Prologue Those lines were penned more than four hundred years ago, but their vibrancy carries on to this day. As I spoke the words, I felt something rush through me, like a tightly bound sphere of wind had unraveled, fluttering with new life. “Yes, very good! That was wonderful!” Miri smiled, clapping happily. Perhaps it was because she was self-conscious about her small stature. She often exaggerated her gestures and expressed her feelings with her entire body. “Keep making a big deal about it, and it’ll go right to my head,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “No, you’re a natural. I can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I think it would sound better if you spoke more from your diaphragm next time.” “From my diaphragm?” “Just below your belly button.” I scanned the paper with my lines printed on it. It was a long monologue by Jaques in As You Like It. I began speaking from the base of my stomach while trying to re-create his melancholy facial expressions, tone, and gestures. I started with “All the world’s a stage—” the way Miri taught me, paying attention to syllable stress and rhythm as if I were playing an instrument. But it was still a bit embarrassing, and I felt my cheeks begin to flush. Saburou, a tabby cat, cocked his head to the side. “—Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.” Finally reaching the end, I picked up Saburou and asked, “How was it this time, Miri?” Unfortunately, her back was turned and she was busy reaching up for something. She stood on a stool, trying to grab a thick book from her shelf. Book Four of the seven-volume Hakusuisha Complete Works of Shakespeare. Her flared skirt was a canary yellow and it fluttered as her finger slowly pulled the book forward. I wanted to help her but couldn’t, so I waited restlessly. I suddenly called out in surprise. The weight of the book broke Miri’s balance. I moved out of pure reflex. But it was a futile attempt that didn’t help in the least. Surprised, Saburou’s brown fur stood on end as Miri caught herself, clutching the book to her chest with a sigh of relief. She then stepped down and walked toward the desk, absorbing herself in the book. A soft light entered through the window behind her. The top of her bob cut reflected a halo of light. The translucent amber tips of her light-brown hair faded into her pale cheeks. Miri was always sweet and charming, but her profile radiated an enigmatic beauty that mesmerized me. My view suddenly lurched forward. However, my body hadn’t moved, so it felt like my brain had misfired and created some phantom inertia. Disoriented, my head spun, and I grew nauseous. Without any input from me, my view moved forward. Under the table, to Miri’s feet. I could see the underside of the countertop. Looking down, I saw Miri’s toes lined up like piano keys. “Ah! Stop that! That tickles!” My vision spun, and I suddenly found myself face-to-face with Miri. We locked eyes, and I felt my heart pound. Her mouth twitched, and her ears immediately flushed red. “Did—did you just see…?” I violently shook my head. “I didn’t see anything!” “Oh, you’re lying! You’re such a bad actor!” “Come on, you just said I was really good!” “Really? You didn’t see my underwear? If you’re lying… If you’re lying…I’m going to slap you, okay?” “But you can’t.” She couldn’t. It was against her nature. And the laws of physics. Miri’s bizarre expression was a mixture of frustration, annoyance, and sadness. Then she fanned her face, saying, “My goodness, it got warm in here.” She stood and opened the sliding door. Her lace curtain shifted in the breeze. Cherry blossom petals danced through a cloudless sky, daintily fluttering into the room like unaddressed letters. Miri’s hair swayed gently. “It’s getting hotter over here, too. I’m going to open a window.” I set Saburou down and broke the connection for a moment. I wiped the sweat that had formed on my brow. I had shut the window because I didn’t want my voice to disturb the neighbors, so my room sweltered under the heat and humidity. If the air conditioner isn’t fixed soon, this heat might be the death of me. Across the balcony railing, cumulous clouds towered like Mt. Unzen. I opened the window, and the breeze entered. It carried the scent of summer and, with it, the almost overbearing singing of the cicadas. I looked behind me, spotting a cat perched on a patch of blue sky reflected on the wooden floor. It scratched its ear with its back paw. This decrepit studio apartment held just Saburou and me. There was no hint of the cute girl anywhere. I picked up Saburou, looked into his eyes, and made the eye-to-eye connection. Miri was smiling. I saw her through Saburou’s eyes. She spoke, her tone gentle. “Your Jaques was good, Yochi. And your projection has really improved.” “Thank you,” I responded timidly. “Why were you reading the complete works of Shakespeare just now?” “Oh, that? Well, I was curious to see Dr. Yuushi Odajima’s translation.” Miri’s room had a large bookshelf crammed with tons of different books—Shakespeare, Kenji Miyazawa, Salinger, Shuji Terayama, manga for girls. It was obvious she loved to read. She kept the room tidy and had added some tasteful decorations. This was the room of a chic young woman, and I felt a little embarrassed glancing around. “Does the translator really make that much of a difference?” “It’s like night and day!” She then read some lines from when princess Rosalind dressed up as a man. Her voice was sweet yet majestic, her enunciation exquisite. I was captivated. A cute little spectator soon joined us, too. A baby sparrow landed in front of the sliding glass door and began preening its feathers that fluffed up from the spring sun. When it did, the Saburou in Miri’s room stirred. Looking back and forth between Miri and the sparrow, he suddenly leaped, and the sparrow calmly flew off into the spring sky. Glass reflected Saburou’s puzzled face. He was still just a wide-eyed kitten who probably hadn’t yet learned the difference between a sparrow and a ball of yarn. I petted the Saburou in my room as I spoke. “You’ve sure grown up.” He was a full-grown, dignified cat. He purred, pressing his nose into my palm. A bird chirped. Looking up, a sparrow had landed on the open doorframe. For a moment, I thought I was seeing the sparrow from Miri’s room, but that couldn’t be. We have never met in person. Miri and I live in different places and different times, and her Saburou was still a kitten. But we can speak through the eyes of a cat. The situation appeared complicated, but it was quite simple. Everything is easy to understand once the rules are explained clearly. Kind of like how the utterly chaotic movement of the stars fell into a system of circular motion with the introduction of the heliocentric theory. As it stands, it wouldn’t be too far off the mark to describe the current situation like this. Miri lives in the cat’s eyes.