I had already ascertained Endou’s place of residence thanks to Shikama. It was an apartment in the cluttered neighborhood surrounding the Yoshida Shrine. I set out down Shiga Pass, the trash bag containing the cockroach cube dangling from one hand.
I knew that if I were to deliver the cube in its current state, it would only be construed as garbage and thrown out on the spot. To avoid this outcome, I decided I needed to spruce things up. I stopped by the stationery shop on Shirakawa Street, where I procured a darling red paper bag. It was the kind of thing guaranteed to make the heart of any man, no matter how nihilistic, hearken back to its days of youth. To accompany the bag, I selected a glittering green ribbon. I have no fondness for Christmas, but I am at least familiar with its palette. Finally, I purchased a small card on which to write the name of the sender. In all, the supplies set me back five hundred yen. However, it was a sum I was glad to part with if it meant bringing a smile to my dearest Mr. Endou’s face.
I found a seat along the Philosopher’s Walk and carefully set about assembling my gift. It was painstaking, delicate work. The noon air was brisk and the bench cold against my rear, but the warm sunlight quietly filtering through the cherry trees’ branches aided my hands. I placed the trash bag containing the cockroach cube into the cute red bag, which I tied tight with the green ribbon. Considering Mr. Endou’s gross misconceptions about me, a gift bearing my own name was likely to go unopened. I was thus forced to utilize Mizuo’s instead—with some slight modification. I knew that writing her name outright would be fraudulent, so I decided to adjust it ever so slightly, adding a discreet tail to the final o such that the end product technically read Mizua. In all likelihood, Endou would overlook the tail in his haste and believe the gift to be from her. I carefully filled the card out in immaculate letters. To Endou, from Mizua. Once I had combined the card and present, my work was complete.
I placed the prepared gift on the stone bench and stepped one pace back, evaluating its appearance from every angle as an artist might critique his work. Yes. This was perfect. My flawless execution impressed even myself. Not a soul on this earth would suspect the greasy, squirming mass waiting inside. Why, if I were to receive the package myself, I would wholeheartedly believe it sent with love by a chaste, graceful maiden. It was a masterpiece—my best work in years.
I proceeded down Imadegawa Street and into the side streets that crisscrossed the residential neighborhood just east of the Faculty of Engineering. I navigated the densely packed houses with some difficulty, very grateful for the written directions Shikama had provided.
Eventually, I arrived at Endou’s address. It was a two-story apartment building of recent construction. Endou lived in a middle unit on the second floor. I approached the building with some trepidation, knowing that if I was to encounter him here, my whole plan would be ruined. Fortunately, Endou appeared to be out. Perhaps he was again with his amateur filmmaker associates, shooting scenes for his pointless movie. I approached Endou’s door and hung my gift from the knob. I held my ear close to the paper bag to ascertain the faint writhing and scuttling of its glorious contents, then hastily made my retreat.
Now all I had to do was wait for Endou’s response.
I could easily envision him reaching for the bag in clear delight. He’d see the name written on the card, and a fatuous grin would spread across his face.
Goodness, he might mumble under his breath. If she wanted to get me something, she could have just brought it in person.
Oh, the hubris.
Once inside, he might even kneel in seiza on the floor, breathing deeply to collect his thoughts. And it would all be in vain. He’d pull open the red paper bag, mind brimming over with visions of a rose-colored future, hands all but trembling with excitement, only to expose the indefatigable, eons-old gleam of life.
The roaches would burst forth from their paper prison to scurry about the room in a wild dance. Endou would attempt to flee, realizing only then what had happened. He’d let out a gasp, tilt his head back, and cast his eyes to the heavens, where he would find my face smiling down with eternal grace.
“Damn you!” he might even groan, like one more hapless, writhing pest among his fellows.
I hoped he would enjoy his chance to experience the whirling, unbridled mysteries of life.
Afterward, I felt the satisfaction of a hard day’s work soak in. I made leisurely stops at a few bookshops, drifted happily among the shelves, and then headed home.
✦ ✦ ✦
Several days had passed since I delivered my lovingly prepared Christmas present, and I had yet to receive a response from Endou. I was beginning to feel a bit disappointed. I’d come up with such a novel idea, and I felt very strongly that it was only proper for Endou to respond in turn.
Or perhaps I was underestimating him. He could be busy toiling away at that very moment, preparing some monstrous ploy meant to thoroughly quash me. I had to remain vigilant.
I continued about my days, ever alert, ever watching for Endou’s retaliation. My hands trembled with the excitement of a warrior on the eve of battle.