At the time of my encounter with Ebizuka, Ido was apparently competing in a music trivia quiz at the Suzuki Record Shop on Teramachi Street. I could not tell you why in the world the shop had decided to invite the wayward male masses to leave their homes and brave the holiday furor for a trivia quiz on Christmas Eve—nor why Ido had taken the shop up on its offer. I half wanted to praise my friend for his unflagging determination to engage in pursuits that would only bring him sadness and half wanted to caution him that some lines are better left uncrossed.
When Ido appeared at the southeast corner of Christmas-choked Shijo Kawaramachi at five o’clock, he was predictably and visibly disappointed, his gloomy visage a full shade darker than usual. Storm clouds swirled and rumbled directly over his head, such that I’d spotted his approach from a good fifty meters away. Today, the man was the walking incarnation of worldly jealousy.
He took a spot at my side, and the two of us exchanged listless greetings.
We’d sought shelter under the covered walkway just outside the Hankyu Department Store. We waited aimlessly for Shikama’s arrival as a lost child might wait for a parent. Looking back, I think it was perhaps the most excruciating wait I’ve ever endured in my life.
As evening descended, the city lights grew more beautiful and more painful yet. A gigantic, dazzling LED signboard reading KEIHAN ELECTRIC RAILWAY loomed above the Shijo Kawaramachi intersection. Each time the crossing lights changed, one human wave rolled in from the direction of the Takashimaya Department Store, and another rolled in from the direction of the Great Shijo Bridge. The two waves crashed at a point right before our eyes, as if we had front-row seats to an endless series of reenactments of the Battle of Sekigahara.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that many of the passersby looked upon us with pity. They saw us as two young men frozen with indecision or two shabby castoffs with nowhere to go to enjoy the delights of Christmas Eve. I very nearly decided to head home on the spot, but a sideward glance at Ido revealed that his state was even worse. He looked so gloomy that I worried his breath could stop at any moment. Clearly, I couldn’t abandon my brother-in-arms to suffer alone.
Among the people weaving their way through the area, we saw countless young men and women strolling by, bags emblazoned with department store logos clutched to their chests. The bags likely contained thoughtful gifts either to or from a significant other. They would surely be neat and inoffensive—the sort of presents I would never conceive of. I knew with absolute certainty that no bag contained a maneki-neko capable of waving on in nigh perpetuity thanks to a solar panel at its base.
Thoughts of the bags and their contents only worsened the agony of our wait. It occurred to me that Ido and I had reached a decisive moment. We were locked in battle at the pass on Mount Tenno, praying our general would soon appear. If our position fell to the enemy, the war would be lost. We refocused our forces upon Kawaramachi OPA, a shopping center just up the street, unleashing mental fury upon its glittering window displays. Of all the buildings in this neighborhood, OPA was perhaps the most repulsive, with its unabashed devotion to high fashion and festive Christmas spirit.
I must have been a miserable sight huddling on the fringe of Shijo Kawaramachi on Christmas Eve. I felt like a trembling criminal, my legs locked in the stocks of the town courtyard, desperately hoping not to be seen—and especially not by any personal acquaintances.
But as luck would have it, caught up in one of the human waves rushing in from Takashimaya was Lady Uemura.
I quickly grabbed Ido’s arm, thinking to drag him inside the Hankyu Department Store. But I was too late. The Evil Eye fixed right upon us, zooming in on our moment of shame. We were two frogs leered at by a hungry snake. I abandoned my attempt to flee and offered Lady Uemura a sheepish smile. She made a beeline toward us.
“Evening,” she said, joining us under the covered walkway. “What are you two doing here?”
“Frankly, I’d like to ask you the same thing.”
I was mustering every shred of resistance I could manage in the face of the evil eye. Ido, for his part, had already deserted his post on the front lines. He was now cowering at my back.
“I’m here to meet a friend,” replied Lady Uemura.
“Ah, how lovely,” I said. “As for the two of us, we’re, ah, planning to take part in a certain event that’s scheduled for this evening.”
“Sounds like fun.”
I felt quite certain that neither Ido nor I looked as if we expected to have fun.
“I’ve been running into a lot of familiar faces today,” Lady Uemura continued. “I came across Yushima just a moment ago.”
“Oh-ho?”
I envisioned Yushima wandering aimlessly among the neighborhood’s tawdry displays, alone and shivering in the cold, uncaring gale. It very nearly brought me to tears.
“That reminds me…” Lady Uemura pulled out her schedule book and briskly flicked through the pages.
“I’ve been asking around about the year-end party. It sounds like the twenty-seventh works best for everyone.”
She looked me in the eye. “I’m sure you won’t have any conflicts.”
She then turned to Ido. “How about you?”
Ido, not expecting the sudden shift of attention, cowered farther behind my back. He stared down at his feet as he replied, “Wow, um… Are you really sure you want someone like me at your party?”
“I don’t see any problem. Who’s going to complain?”
Exasperated, Lady Uemura turned back to me. “All right, so it’s settled. See you both there.”
“By the way,” I inquired, “where will you be meeting your, ahem, ‘friend’ this evening?”
“Over in Sanjo.”
“Ah. Excellent. Not to be presumptuous, but I’d recommend avoiding Shijo Kawaramachi this evening.”
“Why’s that?”
Her evil eye gleamed, brighter than ever thanks to the neighborhood’s dazzling lights.
I knew that as long as the fearsome eye remained in Shijo Kawaramachi to lord over its surroundings, we would never be able to instigate our Eejanaika Uprising. Our day of reckoning would never arrive. Our era of exaltation would never begin. Though we would try to resist, the power of her gaze would be too great, and we would sink into a detestable quagmire of our own shame. The tragedy of our second year would play out again; we’d crumple in the cold winter wind and find ourselves driven to the banks of the Kamo, defeated by Christmas Eve once more.
I had to keep that from happening.
She glared at me, eyes ripe with suspicion.
“Don’t tell me you boys are planning another one of your ridiculous little spectacles.”
“Goodness, no. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Let me guess. Shikama’s behind it, isn’t he?”
She was a scalpel, smartly slicing through any deception I could summon.
I refused to answer her question, instead lifting my hand to wave good-bye, hoping it would suffice to drive her off.
“Degenerates need not involve themselves in our affairs,” I said. “And we’ve definitely no need of anyone who already has plans to spend a happy holiday evening with her beau. Go on, now. Shoo. If you stick near us tonight, you’re liable to get burned.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
Lady Uemura sighed and began walking away. Not two steps out, she whirled on her heel and leaned in close, her wind-reddened cheeks nearly touching mine. I trembled like a rabbit kit. Her evil eye held me mercilessly in its gaze.
“Frankly,” she whispered, “I think it’s about time you grew out of that nonsense.”
She straightened, turned, and merged back in with the crowd.
“Damn Evil Eye,” I muttered as I watched her go.
I glanced over at Ido. The man was gasping for breath. The overwhelming shame of having to loiter here at the center of the Christmas Eve congestion had overwhelmed him. I, too, was barely managing to keep my self-respect from crumbling to pieces. I desperately searched the surrounding chaos for some means of salvation.