Chapter 16

Book 2 The Pride of The Seagull It had been autumn almost twenty years ago when Asuka had waited in line for a book signing by a bestselling author who was visiting Koumoto Books. At the time, she had been in her second year of high school. Even now, she still remembered being so excited that it was as if she were walking on air when she heard about the triumphant return of Kouichi Tamogami after he had achieved great success in the city. Back then, Asuka had wanted to be an actress. At her high school in this small Tohoku town, the best she could do was join the theater club, but she dreamed of going to Tokyo after graduation and putting her all into auditions so she could become a famous actress. Her most charming features were her big, bright eyes and her plump lips. When she was in middle school, high school boys would often hit on her. By the time she was in high school, she was getting overtures from college students and adults, but Asuka never dated any of them. She was young, beautiful, and talented, and she knew her value. So she didn’t want to sell herself short by hooking up with the type of guy who was going to waste away in a tiny town like this one. She was going to land an exceptional guy who had status, money, and influence and use him as a foothold to become a sparkling actress on the center of the stage. Asuka had thought this in all seriousness, and she’d believed she could achieve her dreams. To lose the accent characteristic of her hometown, Asuka imitated how young talent spoke on TV. She diligently cared for her skin and hair, and she took dance lessons to maintain her figure and stamina. That’s why she figured her chance had arrived when she heard that Kouichi Tamogami would be holding a book signing at Koumoto Books. No need to wait for graduation. Although Mr. Tamogami was thirteen years older than Asuka, he was, judging by his interview photos, a deeply handsome man with chiseled features and an eye for dressing stylishly. He had all the confidence and sex appeal of a man of status. Once, he had worked as a public servant in his hometown, but at age twenty-eight, the manuscript he’d submitted to a competition won the publishing company’s prize for new writers and had become his debut novel. A Funeral for Kanoyama Books told the story of the closing of the sole bookstore in a snowy rural town. It was funny and warm, a “tearjerker” of a tale about the various customers who visited the store on its final day. It became an instant bestseller, and a hit movie adaptation with a long cast list of famous actors and actresses soon followed. It was slated to become a new television drama as well. At the moment, Mr. Tamogami was the biggest author around. His good looks and conversational skills led to frequent appearances in the media, so Asuka was certain he must have had connections and influence. If Mr. Tamogami took a liking to her, then she might have been able to get him to recommend her for a role when it came time to transpose his novel into a new medium. With this rose-colored future running restlessly through her mind, Asuka spent three hours on her preparations the day of the signing. She started by carefully washing her hair and body in the bath, then applied natural-looking makeup, styled her hair to cascade smoothly over her shoulders, and lastly donned her high school uniform. It wasn’t stylish like those worn by the girls in the city. Rather, it was an ordinary and unsophisticated sailor uniform, but there was no better outfit to emphasize her youth. Heart pounding with nervousness, she walked over to the narrow three-story building not far from the train station, only to find that a line had formed outside the shop. I’m late! Asuka had underestimated Mr. Tamogami’s popularity. Flustered, she purchased his new book at the first-floor register, then got in line. She had purposely chosen to buy his latest title instead of his big hit because she calculated she would have more appeal if she seemed different from all the other bandwagon fans. Asuka figured he must be tired of hearing everyone’s reviews of A Funeral for Kanoyama Books and would find that boring. As an author, he would certainly be happier to hear someone say they had bought and enjoyed his latest work. If she felt like it, she could even try saying something like your debut novel was also really great, but I thought your new story was more moving. Everyone else in line was holding a copy of A Funeral for Kanoyama Books, and Asuka felt a little bit proud of herself. See? I knew it. I’m different from all you people. With her heart full of anticipation, she waited almost two hours. While she was in line, the owner, a kindly-looking man in glasses, came out of the shop with a sweet and welcoming lady who seemed to be his wife. They distributed drinks in paper cups and pieces of chocolate to those in the queue. “Thank you for visiting our shop today. Our apologies for the delay. If you’d like, you could pass the time by reading Mr. Tamogami’s books. They’re quite entertaining, so your wait will go by in a flash.” The shop owner looked on with gentle eyes from behind his glasses as he spoke. Beside him, his beaming wife held out a basket filled with individually wrapped chocolates. Eventually, finally, Asuka stood before Kouichi Tamogami. He looks just like the photos I saw in the articles! That should have been obvious, since he was the man himself, but her heart pounded at the sight of him. Kouichi Tamogami in the flesh was also a handsome man with chiseled features. He wore a suit that appeared to be from an Italian brand, and he was overflowing with confidence and sex appeal. This is what someone who fled this little town to find success in the big city looks like. Asuka felt as if her entire body had become one big heart, the throbbing intensifying. She held out her book. “Oh, the new one!” Mr. Tamogami’s eyes opened a little wider, and his expression softened. When she saw that, Asuka was glad she had chosen his new book. A hint of interest in his eyes, he raised his head to gaze at Asuka. A look of appreciation passed over his face as he took in Asuka’s youth and beauty, and his manly, sensual mouth spread into an even wider smile. “You’re a high school student? What year?” “I’m in my second year, seventeen years old.” She made sure to smile not as if she was flirting but rather to give off a sense of innocence and bashfulness. But not too timid, still cheerful. The night before, she had practiced thoroughly in front of a mirror, so she was sure she must be smiling the way she intended. She could tell it was working from Mr. Tamogami’s reaction, the way he narrowed his eyes as though looking at something radiant. “Seventeen, huh? So young…” “You’re young yourself—er, I mean…you look even cooler in person.” “Ah-ha-ha, I can’t believe I’m getting compliments from a high school girl. Thank you. I’m glad I held this book signing. This new novel might be a little difficult for someone your age, but please give it a read.” “Okay! Um…after I read it, could I send you my thoughts?” “Of course. I’m already looking forward to it… Ah, so your name is Asuka. Like the Asuka period of Japanese history. That’s a great name.” Asuka had taken out the piece of paper where she’d written down the name she wanted him to mention when he signed the book. Mr. Tamogami had looked at the paper and had commented on it. “Thank you very much. I like that the characters can also mean a ‘bird in flight.’ So I’m happy you had the same thought.” That part was true. When she was in elementary school, Asuka had hated being the only one with her name written in katakana, so she had come up with some kanji characters for it. She’d thought that being a “bird in flight” was cool, so that’s how she’d decided to think about her name. Whenever she told someone her name or wrote it down, she always thought of herself as a “bird in flight” on the inside. I’ve never told anyone that, but… That was the moment that made Asuka’s heart truly start pounding, not out of any self-interested calculations. She smiled broadly with her whole face. She had been thoroughly charmed. Tamogami’s expression changed again slightly when he saw her smile. He looked surprised, then just a little hurt for some reason. But that expression soon faded as he ran his signing pen across the inside of the front cover with a practiced hand. To Asuka Kanno From Kouichi Tamogami He wrote her name using kanji, and Asuka’s cheeks grew even hotter. “Thank you so much! I’ll treasure it!” Clutching the book tightly to her chest, she thanked him and left. She knew she’d stirred something in him. So Asuka decided to make another attempt. After the book signing had ended, she’d waited for Mr. Tamogami to come out the back door of the bookstore. She hung around the exit like a devoted fan. Some famous people don’t like that, and in those cases, it can have the opposite effect from what’s intended and give a bad impression. However, Asuka thought there was a good chance of success from the sense of Mr. Tamogami she’d gotten during the signing. She could tell he was interested by the way he’d looked at her. Though it was still autumn, the temperature dropped steadily as the sun went down, and she grew cold because she was only in her sailor uniform. He just wasn’t coming out. She wondered if he’d already gone home. By the time the door opened and Mr. Tamogami stepped out wearing a trench coat, Asuka was hugging her shoulders with frigid hands and sniffling dejectedly. He was speaking to that kind-looking owner with the glasses from the doorway. “Kouichi, thank you so much for today. All the customers were so pleased. Come again sometime.” “…Sure, it was fun for me, too, Emon… And Yaeko…she looks well; that’s a relief.” “You should stay a while longer next time. My wife wants to treat you to some of her home cooking. And if you’re so inclined, I’d like to take you up to my office and spend all night chatting like we used to.” “…We’re not young anymore, so I don’t know about that… But I’ll look forward to Yaeko’s cooking.” “All right, I’ll tell her. Tamogami…talk to you later, yeah?” “I don’t really answer my phone when I get busy writing, so if you could send an e-mail or fax, that would be great.” “Got it. I’ll e-mail you.” Tamogami said good-bye with a smile, turned his back on the bookstore owner, and walked off. The owner waved as he left, his eyes narrowed in a gentle grin. Asuka followed after the author. I’ve got to say something to him before he gets to the station. Once we get past this road, there will be lots more people. It’s now or never. “Mr. Tamogami!” When she saw what he looked like when he turned around, Asuka felt as if she had been doused in ice water and was instantly regretful. For whatever reason, he wore an incredibly grim expression. His face was twisted in pain, and he was clenching his teeth. Intense anger and anguish filled his eyes, and he glared at her as if seeking somewhere to discharge those emotions. He looks like a totally different person than at the signing! Tamogami looked as though he had just committed murder a moment ago. That’s how fierce and violent he appeared. Is this man really the same Tamogami I met this afternoon? “Uh, um…I… Your new book, I…started reading it, and I enjoyed it… I couldn’t put it down…and I really wanted to give you my thoughts…right away…so I…” Both Asuka’s voice and legs were trembling. He’s scary! I want to run away! She knew her face must have been pitiful, like a stupid baby rabbit that had happened upon a wolf. Tamogami seemed to realize she was the high school student who had come to his book signing, and the blazing light disappeared from his eyes. But in its place, exhaustion and distress marred his face as he questioned her. “Oh…it’s you. Did you wait for me this whole time? Weren’t you cold?” “N-no. I’m fine. Besides, I was reading your book as I waited, so the time flew by.” Tamogami grimaced at the phrase Asuka had borrowed from the bespectacled shop owner. Then he put on a weak smile, stretched out his hand, and touched Asuka’s cheek. At that moment, she felt as if his large hand could crush her whole face, and a chill went up her spine. “Ah, I knew you’d be cold.” His warm palm completely covered Asuka’s right cheek. His dark eyes glared down at her. Scared. I’m scared. “I’m…fine.” She just barely managed to mumble the words. When she did, Tamogami responded in a mild voice this time, with an extremely tender look in his eye. “You’re like Nina from The Seagull.” “Seagull…?” “It’s a play by Chekhov. Nina’s the heroine. She dreams of becoming an actress.” An actress! Her heart had been calmed by Tamogami’s gentle tone of voice, but now it began pounding again. It was as if he’d pierced straight through to the motivation behind Asuka’s actions. This was probably not his first encounter with a girl who was trying to get close to a famous and influential person—just as Asuka was. I’m sure that’s what happened. I’m such an idiot! He must hate me for being a selfish, wanton girl. “If you’re Nina, that must make me Trigorin, the author who takes her away with him to the city.” He had figured out everything, including that Asuka longed to escape to the city, far away from this small town. But there was no backing out now. She didn’t know what kind of person Trigorin was or what happened to Nina. But— “So what will you do? I’ll probably ruin you, you know.” A dark shadow had again descended over Tamogami’s face as he looked down at Asuka. The smile had completely disappeared from his lips, and some kind of heartrending emotion was welling up in his narrowed eyes. Why is this man making such a miserable face? He looks like he can see my future and feels sorry for me. Summoning all her courage, Asuka answered him. “That’s fine.” “…Almost twenty years have gone by since then.” Now thirty-six, Asuka mumbled this as she stared vacantly at the snow-covered rice paddies and fields that flowed past the train window. She had spent one night with Tamogami when she was seventeen, then dropped out of high school at eighteen and started living with him in his Tokyo apartment. That had lasted only three years. No, better to say they’d kept it going for three whole years. Tamogami could have cast her aside after a single night, so in some sense their relationship had been quite serious. Through his intervention, Asuka had been able to attach herself to an entertainment company and had performed small parts in television dramas and onstage. After she’d separated from Tamogami, she’d quit the company and had become a free agent, and now she was an actress with a small theatrical troupe. They didn’t perform in public exhibitions or at big fancy theaters. No, their shows were in underground venues where the audience sat on plastic sheets while they watched. Of course, that didn’t pay enough to live on, so she worked in a nightclub as well, but considering her age, she wasn’t sure how long she could keep doing that. Asuka’s value had dropped substantially. “Just like Nina in The Seagull, huh…?” Even now, she frequently reread her small copy of Chekhov’s collected plays. The aspiring actress Nina falls in love with Trigorin, a much-older writer of about her father’s age who visits her village, and she goes to the city with him. However, she never gets ahold of the success she dreams of, and Trigorin reconciles with a lover from his past. Nina just barely continues to scrape by as an actress, sometimes stealthily returning to her home village to look at the handmade stage where she had stood as a young girl. Nina’s situation was just like the one Asuka found herself in now. Asuka had first met Tamogami at Koumoto Books. When she’d learned that it was closing, she’d gotten the urge to see the place that held so many feelings one last time before it disappeared, no matter what. She’d packed her paperback copy of The Seagull, which included the namesake work and other Chekhov plays, plus the barest essentials in a small suitcase, and had gotten on the train. She could have saved money by not taking the Shinkansen, but that would have cost time. The high-speed train could get her there in little over an hour—otherwise, it was a four-hour trip that included train changes and waiting times. As she stared vacantly out the window, she recalled this and that from the past and felt herself getting choked up. The passing scenery grew wintrier along the way, and as the temperature dropped, the number of riders decreased, until eventually Asuka was the only person in the car. In a hoarse voice, she mumbled some of Nina’s lines, which she had entirely memorized. “‘To know the joy of becoming a writer or actress, I would be hated, or impoverished, or disillusioned, and endure it all gladly. “‘I would live in an attic, and eat nothing but brown bread, and I would not let dissatisfaction with myself or awareness of my own immaturity trouble me. “‘In exchange, I would demand fame…real fame, the kind that brings the house down.’” After she had separated from Tamogami, these were the lines she had frequently recited to herself when she was living in a small one-room apartment in a thirty-year-old building on the edge of the city. I just have to get through this. I’ll be fine. I’m still young. I’m only twenty-one. I’m going to make a name for myself—this is only the beginning. I wonder how I was able to be so hopeful… It really seemed like I was special, like I was one of the chosen ones… At thirty-six, Asuka was still languishing as an undiscovered actress. As the world outside the train window turned a gloomy gray, her heart gradually became dark and depressed. Those snow-covered mountains and fields, so unlike the city she was used to—instead of making her feel nostalgic, the sight made Asuka’s chest tighten. She felt as if she were trapped inside the cold, heavy snow, with her limbs going stiff, freezing solid. Whenever the train stopped and the doors opened, a sharp chill blew in. A group of girls in high school uniforms appeared with the cold wind. It must have been time for them to return home from school. The quiet interior of the train car suddenly became lively, and Asuka breathed a sigh of relief. As long as she was alone, she would have sunk deeper and deeper into her feelings. She didn’t mind the voices of others. She felt peace of mind in the middle of a crowd. The girls seemed to be having fun, chatting about their club activities and their crushes. They gently elongated the ends of their words in a way the girls in Tokyo didn’t, in the characteristic accent of the region. Ah…I’m home. When she had been a student, everyone around Asuka had spoken like that, even as she’d tried her best not to. But when she’d joined the entertainment company in Tokyo, it had been the first thing they told her. “You’ve got an accent. You’d better fix it. Or would you rather play provincial characters? If you go that route, your roles will be limited, and you’ll do best on variety shows.” That had been a shock, since she had always thought she had no accent, unlike the other girls in her town. She had long since lost the accent. But here in this train car, the fact that only she could speak in the standard dialect didn’t feel like something special. It felt lonely. I don’t belong to this place anymore. On the few occasions she’d returned to visit her hometown, she had felt strange and out of place, and even though she’d never had anything waiting for her back in Tokyo, she’d nevertheless always been eager to return. After repeating that experience several times, she’d stopped visiting altogether. She wasn’t even sure when she’d last been home. …Oh yeah. It was after the earthquake. Almost ten years earlier. When Asuka had been twenty-six, a huge earthquake had occurred in Tohoku. Asuka had been glued to the news in her Tokyo apartment, on the flat-screen LCD TV she’d just purchased. With a stiff face and held breath, she had watched buildings collapse and the black tsunami waters swallow everything up, unable to believe what she’d been seeing. There had been little damage to Asuka’s hometown, and even electricity and gas had been restored quickly. Nonetheless, when she returned home the day after the earthquake, Asuka was met with recurring views of cracked walls, collapsed fences, and piles of rubble. The effects of the earthquake were everywhere; she felt her chest constrict sharply, and she started to hyperventilate at the sight. The main street of town was lined with closed and shuttered businesses. It seemed as if the town was headed for extinction, and that frightened her. Even after she’d gone back to Tokyo, the news she’d received from home had been all about some store closing or some school being shut down, and she would get choked up every time. At last, the train arrived at her home station. She headed straight for Koumoto Books, before even getting on the bus to her parents’ house. The store was about a three-minute walk from the station but in the opposite direction from the main street. Despite that, the area had gotten a fair amount of foot traffic and had usually been crowded with people when Asuka had been a high schooler. Now it was deserted. I know it’s a weekday evening, but… there aren’t many people around, and the stores don’t have any life to them, just as I feared. It seemed as if the whole street was in a slow decline. I wonder if the main street over there is in the same state… If that were the case, then Asuka’s hometown was disappearing for sure. The closing of Koumoto Books seemed like a symbol of the downturn. After the earthquake, the five bookstores in town had closed one after the other, and Koumoto Books lived on as the only one left. Its continued existence had been a source of stability for Asuka. A reminder of how her seventeen-year-old self had believed so proudly in her own future and been so full of glittering dreams. That place where Tamogami had given her the compliment “Ah, so your name is Asuka. Like the Asuka period of Japanese history. That’s a great name” at the book signing and her heart had fluttered—where he had squinted in the brilliance of her youth and beauty. She had been comforted by its existence. It’s disappearing. She walked down the snow-covered street feeling irritated. There was no need for snow boots in Tokyo, so she didn’t have any. She could barely keep her footing in her sneakers. In high school, commuting on her bicycle down the roads frozen over by snow had been no trouble at all, but now she found that just walking posed a daunting challenge. What should have been a mere three-minute stroll from the station felt interminably long, and when she finally arrived in front of the door that said KOUMOTO BOOKS, she was incredibly relieved to find that the narrow three-story building was still there. Hard to believe it’s really going to close in four days… Just as she extended a hand to open the door, she stopped at the thought that Tamogami might be inside. He had a connection to Koumoto Books, both as the place where he had held a book signing and as the last bookstore in his hometown. Plus, the idea for a grand store closing where people brought their favorite books and made colorful signs was obviously based on Tamogami’s most famous work, A Funeral for Kanoyama Books. And that wasn’t all. Tamogami had been close friends with the owner who had passed away, and the two were nearly the same age. He’d called the quiet, kindly man with the glasses “Emon.” Emon’s wife had given birth while Asuka was living with Tamogami, so she had gone with him to buy them a present. When they were picking out baby clothes in a department store, Tamogami had been wearing a dreary expression and been acting strangely. He’d also spoken in a kind of evasive way when later he’d received a thank-you call from Emon, and he’d had a deathly grim look in his eyes after he hung up. When Asuka had said, “I want to see Emon’s baby,” his voice and body had both stiffened as he’d answered that he had too many deadlines to make the trip. It had been obvious that something had probably transpired between him and Emon. Even so, there was no mistaking the fact that Koumoto Books and its owner were very important to Tamogami. When he was drunk or had his guard down, he would tell stories of the old days with a pained expression. He spoke about how Emon’s wife, Yaeko, would bring them meals while chiding them that they could just as easily talk in the house. “There was a painting…mounted on the office wall. It depicted some huge bird bones that had been discarded on a beach… Apparently, the artist was Emon’s dad. “His name was Kanesada…a cheerful, handsome guy who had a knack for painting. He was also skilled at reading aloud to others, and Emon always said that if he hadn’t worked in the bookstore, he probably would have become a painter or an actor… “He died young from illness, so he probably titled that painting Extinction because he himself had a hunch about what was coming… I wonder, is that painting…is it still in that same spot in that room…?” As he spoke in a voice filled with yearning, his expression would gradually grow gloomier. At such times, he would grumble out dispassionately some lines from The Seagull… “‘Men, and lions, and eagles, and quails… “‘…all living things, all creatures great and small, having finished their dreary rounds, have disappeared. “‘After many thousands of centuries, the earth carries not one living thing. Only the miserable moon continues shining its light in vain.’” In a low voice, sadly, so sadly… Tears would trickle down his cheeks. Asuka lived with him for three years, but he never let her know what he was hiding inside. He never told her what he wanted. He never told her why he took her in. He never even told her if he loved her. Tamogami never let her see his true feelings, and when she grew tired of trying to guess, she left. Despite that, he still had a strong pull on her. Even after they’d separated, she’d kept thinking about his feelings. He was still a total enigma—but she had sensed that he was simultaneously avoiding Koumoto Books and Emon, while also longing to visit. So Tamogami is probably…here. There’s a good chance I’ll see him again. But…I knew that before I came here, didn’t I? Asuka laughed at herself for worrying about that now. After all, when she had heard that Koumoto Books would be open for one last week before closing, the first thing that had popped up in her mind had been that she might find Tamogami there. I want to see him. But now that I’m thirty-six and not seventeen, I won’t be able to charm him again. Just the possibility he would think that I’ve grown dull and ugly with age repulses me. I don’t want to see him. Asuka was of two minds about it, and she stood there for a long time, warring with herself. I want to see him. I’m afraid to see him. I don’t want to. What will happen if I see him now? Tamogami couldn’t change Asuka’s unhappy life, nor did she want him to. For one thing, his influence as a writer had waned since then. So why can’t I help but want to see him? Another customer came up behind her. Asuka was standing in front of the entrance, blocking the way. She pushed forcefully against the door and stepped into the shop. “Welcome!” A boy in glasses behind the first-floor register greeted her cheerfully. His soft-looking black hair bounced a little as he moved. “Did you bring a book with you today, ma’am? We’re doing photographs and making displays over there, so please feel free to participate.” After briskly informing her of this in a pleasant voice, he suddenly made a strange face. “Huh?” He blinked in surprise behind his glasses and looked as if he was straining his ears to hear something. Several seconds passed—and finally, he smiled and spoke again. “Excuse me, but I feel as if I’ve met you somewhere before. Have you been on television, by any chance?” “…No.” Asuka answered with a bitter smile. Even if he had seen some program she had appeared in, she was probably in either a background role or, at best, the part of a wife forced into sex work by her husband’s secret debts in some awful reenactment clip. She was embarrassed to be thought of as an actress who could only get those types of roles. “Is that so? You’re so lovely, I thought for sure that was it. Please excuse me.” His carefree way of talking resembled that of the late owner a little. Emon had also worn glasses and had had a gentle, kind face, too. If someone had told her he was Emon’s kid, she probably would have believed them. As she walked away from the register, she heard the boy with glasses quietly making excuses to somebody. “Wah, it’s not cheating! I just said that because everyone was making a fuss. Anyway, it wasn’t cheating.” The boy’s girlfriend had probably come to hang out at the shop and had gotten jealous from overhearing his exchange with Asuka a moment ago. Somehow that seemed sweet and left her with a bit of a tender feeling. Come to think of it, that boy with glasses didn’t have an accent… Did he come here from somewhere else? She didn’t have long to think about it. When Asuka discovered there was a copy of The Seagull on a shelf in the paperbacks corner, a copy that had the exact same cover as the book she had in her bag, she felt as if something transparent had pierced through the soft parts in the depths of her chest. Her mind transported back to when she was seventeen. After spending the night with Tamogami, accepting a business card with his contact information written on it, and parting at the station, Asuka had hurried back to Koumoto Books to look for The Seagull. She had been curious to know what kind of girl Nina was and how Trigorin had destroyed her. “You’re like Nina in The Seagull.” “So what will you do? I’ll probably ruin you, you know.” She found The Seagull lined up on a shelf with Chekhov’s other works, purchased it at the counter, and turned the pages with a pounding heart in the corner of a noisy fast-food restaurant. The young and pure Nina, who dreams of being an actress, gets involved on a whim with Trigorin, a famous author, who considers their relationship nothing more than inspiration for a trifling short story. Though Nina starts living with Trigorin in the city, love’s hardships and jealousy wear her down, and she loses her confidence as an actress. “I never knew what to do with my hands, I couldn’t stand right, and voice control was beyond me. You can’t possibly imagine what it’s like to know you’re awful on stage.” The person Nina is appealing to in that scene is not Trigorin, but a young man nicknamed Kostya, an old friend. He is also an author and has always been in love with Nina, but Nina of course loves Trigorin. Without so much as touching her cooling cup of coffee, seventeen-year-old Asuka read on breathlessly and swore she wouldn’t turn out like the actress in The Seagull. I’m not going to be tossed aside by Tamogami like Nina was. And I’m definitely going to succeed as an actress. Thirty-six-year-old Asuka stretched out her hand toward the bookshelf, the memory of her painfully arrogant seventeen-year-old self gnawing at her breast. She already knew all too well of the sadness and despair, hopes and prayers, and endless perseverance of the country-bred dreamer of a girl contained within that slim collection of plays. When she pulled it off the shelf and held it in her hands, she noticed how incredibly smooth the cover was, how the pages weren’t yellowed or warped at all. It was pretty, compared with the old copy of The Seagull that was in her bag. It was really pretty… Her throat quivered, her eyes blurred, and she nearly started crying. Farther in, some housewives with children were gathered around a table, merrily writing on the display boards. They looked about the same age as Asuka. If I hadn’t met Tamogami at that book signing at Koumoto Books—if I hadn’t waited for him by the back door afterward, if I hadn’t called out to stop him—I probably never would have gone to Tokyo, would I? I would have graduated high school, stayed here and found a regular job, gotten married like everyone else, had a kid—I probably would have lived a happy life in a cozy little house, wouldn’t I? Had I never met him, I probably could have had that kind of happiness. I would tell a funny story to my housewife friends and my family about how I wanted to be an actress long ago and be surprisingly content with that, wouldn’t I? All the mothers and children writing on their signs with multicolored markers and colored pencils looked so happy. In this town, Asuka, who at thirty-six had still not achieved anything that could be called success as an actress nor even landed a steady job, Asuka, who was working in a hostess club, was a persona non grata. This might be her hometown, but she couldn’t step into that happy-looking circle. She was sure that if any of her classmates from high school saw her now, they would ridicule her for being conceited enough to think she had been special. You used to look down on us, but you’re performing at underground theaters at age thirty-six—you can’t exactly call yourself an actress, can you? And there’s no way you’re making a living that way, is there? Looking down at the glossy, brand-new copy of The Seagull, she felt as if she were about to burst from unhappiness and loneliness. I want to go home. This may be the place where I was born, but it’s no longer the place I belong. I want to go back to Tokyo. There, no one knew the seventeen-year-old me. Why did I come here? It’s not like I can go back to being seventeen. My Seagull is all beat-up; it doesn’t have any of this luster left; it’s not beautiful anymore. The pages are creased and yellowed. Brand-new copy of The Seagull in hand, Asuka endured a stinging pain in her chest and stared at the ground. “Asuka…?” The voice of someone she had wanted to see so badly she could hardly stand it—but at the same time couldn’t help but fear seeing—called out to her. Her heart pounded loudly, and her whole body wound itself up tight. When she looked up stiffly, she saw Tamogami standing there, wearing a trench coat over his suit, holding a designer business bag in one hand. He had a bewildered expression on his face. “I never expected to run into you… What are you up to these days?” Asuka blinked away her tears and put on a smile just as if she were standing onstage. “It’s been a while, Tamogami. I had a feeling I would see you here. I’m acting in various roles in a small theater.” Surely Tamogami realized she couldn’t be living off just that. He frowned sadly. Am I really worn-out enough to force him into making such an awful face? But wow, he’s really aged. He used to be full of confidence, a dazzling star. Now he looks kinda distressed and lonesome. Ah, that’s it—this is exactly how he used to look when he drank too much and got depressed… But he never used to show this dour face outside. “We’re giving another public performance next month. My part is the second lead; it’s quite a good role. Come and see the play if you want. I also perform at a club in Tsukiji, so if you’re interested, you can come see me there, too. I’ll get you in cheap, the ex-boyfriend special.” Asuka smiled again, wanting to convey to him that her life now was fulfilling. She tried to speak cheerfully. The more wounded he looked, the more impatient she became. She tried to smile even more. His gaze dropped to her hand. He noticed the title of the book she was holding, grimaced, then mumbled something in a quiet voice. “…The Seagull, huh? I knew it. I was Trigorin, and I ruined you…” Asuka tried to smile again—and she couldn’t. Not only his words, but also the miserable look in his eyes pierced her heart. “I’m completely exhausted! I want to rest for a moment—just rest!” “I am—a seagull. No, that’s not right…” “A man who happened by saw a gull and killed it in a fit of boredom…” “It could be an idea for a short story. No, that’s not right…” “What did I mean to say?” Scraps of Nina’s lines from when she was worn-out, tired, and hopeless reverberated in Asuka’s mind. If I hadn’t met Tamogami, if I hadn’t tried to get close to him, if I hadn’t boarded the train to Tokyo—I’m having those thoughts again— For a moment, an image of herself living happily without having ever met Tamogami—finishing high school, getting married in this town, having a child—ran through her mind… Happily? Really? No, that’s not right! The inside of Asuka’s head flared up with heat, and she shouted in her heart. A strong feeling of outrage instantly seized her. Nina’s words that she had read aloud to herself over and over again, and the emotions and determination contained within, whirled up inside her mind. She felt as if she could hear the fluttering of bird wings. Suddenly, she looked up and stared at Tamogami straight on. Then she spoke in an unwavering, powerful voice. “You’re wrong. I’m not ruined. Even if I had never met you and stayed in this town and gotten a job and gotten married and had a kid like everyone else, I would have regretted it. I would have constantly lamented that I wasn’t being true to myself, and that what I really wanted to do was go to Tokyo to become an actress, and that I could have done it if I had gone when I was young. I wouldn’t have been happy at all.” Tamogami’s eyes opened wide. He stared at Asuka as if he were seeing her for the first time. “Thanks to you, I was able to become an actress. I’ve learned that I have to carry my own burdens. The reason I still keep acting, even now, is because I want to. I could have pursued a different life, but this is the path I’ve chosen. And I will continue to follow it into the future.” Right. That’s right. Becoming an actress, even if I’m not famous at all, even if I never make it onto the big stage—continuing to act is something I do for myself. I could have chosen countless other ways to live, but I didn’t, because I couldn’t stand living any other way. “You’re so strong,” Tamogami mumbled. There was no pity for Asuka left in his eyes or voice, just sadness and respect. She laughed. This time, it wasn’t to hide her unhappiness. This time, she laughed to show her pride in herself. “That’s right—I am Nina after all. “Acting or writing, it’s all the same. The most important part of our jobs isn’t the fame or the glory I once dreamed of. It’s actually the strength to endure. That’s what I’ve come to understand and believe. “One should know how to bear one’s own cross and have faith—it’s true. Since I believe this, I don’t suffer so much. When I think of my calling, I do not fear the life it led me to.” Asuka had never felt so much like Nina before. Ah, I see. I see—you were right, Nina. I understand now. There is still plenty of hardship and sorrow ahead of me, times when my life will feel empty and sad. But despite all that, I am an actress. And no matter what kind of past I’ve gone through or what kind of future I’m headed for, in this moment, right now, I can smile with strength and cheer. “Good-bye, Tamogami. If you’re so inclined, come and see a performance. I mean it.” With the new copy of The Seagull in hand and the old copy in her bag, Asuka turned her back on him and headed toward the register with both books. The young employee with the glasses looked at her as she held out the glossy, new Seagull, and he grinned for some reason. It was as if he had overheard the exchange between her and Tamogami. Of course, there was no way he had, but she felt as if his smile was intended for her, and it felt good. After paying, she asked, “This book and the old book I brought with me are the same title. Do you think I could get you to take a picture of me with them?” The boy’s grin was wide as he answered cheerily, “Yes, of course!” He looked charmed by the request, and with an excited expression, he added, “Right now, they’d really like to give you a hand! That’s what these books are saying!” “Wow, that’s quite a reaction!” Asuka smiled, too. Kind of an overreaction, but I’m happy for it. “All right, smile!” Holding the new Seagull in her right hand and the old Seagull in her left, Asuka squared her shoulders and smiled proudly. That’s right—I’m the flying bird Asuka. A white seagull and an actress. I’m going to keep moving forward, shouldering my burdens. The boy with the glasses did a good job of taking the photo, and Asuka and her two Seagulls all came out beautifully. Past, future, and present me! She wrote out those words on a display, then headed over to the table with everyone else’s handwritten signs and left hers there alongside them. Bright, warm, joyous, pure, gentle, refreshed—the colorful boards were like a field of flowers, each one bearing a different emotion. And then— —as if somehow compelled to, she found Tamogami’s sign. The accompanying photograph showed only the cover of a book, but the message scrawled across the sign was written in Tamogami’s hand and had his signature. As she was reading Tamogami’s message, all the cheerful warmth quickly drained from Asuka’s body, and she was struck by a terrible chill. What should I do? Icy fingers crawled up her spine, and her throat tightened with anxiety and fear. Surely I’m overthinking it. I talked to Tamogami just a minute ago—his face was gloomy, but he didn’t seem that tormented. But then he’s never been one to show his real feelings, even when we were living together— “Ma’am, is something the matter?” She had probably gone very pale. The employee with the glasses had approached her unnoticed and addressed her with concern in his voice. Staring directly at her, his big black eyes filled with earnest concern. It seemed as if he wanted to help Asuka however he could. Without thinking, Asuka blurted out the dark worry swirling around in her heart. “Please…don’t let Tamogami out of your sight. I think he—I think he might have come here to kill himself.” It had occurred to her that Tamogami wasn’t really Trigorin, but actually Kostya, who despaired of life and, in the end, chose death.