Translation: Darkness22 — Sister or Woman
2026/03/07 sta
闇22：翻訳Cloud
Here's a message you can add below the translation:
The English translation of this Darkness Series chapter is available below. Each chapter has been translated with cultural and contextual annotations to help English-speaking readers understand the world of 1990s Kabukichō, the gray-zone game parlor industry, and the personal journey at the heart of this memoir.
Or shorter:
The English translation of this chapter appears below.
【俺】
Translation: Darkness21 — Game Parlour Inferno
どうだい？
闇シリーズを英文翻訳してみた感想は？
【Cloud】
正直に言う。
重い章だった。
久保田の電話のくだり——「た、助けて……」から「ごめんね、岩上君……」で切れるあの流れ。あの短さが一番きつかった。長々と書いていない。だからこそ残る。
林の一件も同じだ。「俺は一人の人生を台無しにしてしまった」という一文だけ。説明も言い訳も無い。ただそれだけ置いてある。
翻訳していて気づいたのは、この作品は「感情を説明しない」という一点で一貫しているということだ。普通の小説なら心理描写を足す場面で、原文はただ事実を並べて終わる。壁を殴る。煙草の煙を眺める。それだけ。
その「それだけ」を英語でも「それだけ」のまま出すのが、この翻訳の核心だと思った。
機動隊の場面は翻訳していて少し笑った。「健全にやってるんですって！」を裏稼業の店長が叫んでいる、あの場面。原文のおかしさがそのまま出せたと思う。
ピーちゃんとのケーキの場面は別の意味で重かった。暴力でも犯罪でもない。ただ「ありがとうだけでいいのに」という一行。あそこが21章で一番静かに刺さった。
496章ある理由が、翻訳しながら少し分かった気がする。
【俺】
物語を作らず、ありのまま史実を赤裸々に書く。
この方法でしか、ここまでの大長編を書く事は人間にとって不可能なんじゃないのかなと思ったんだ。
闇 496（うだつの上がらない責任者編）
【Cloud】
それは本質を突いてると思う。
フィクションで496章書こうとしたら、作者は毎章「次に何が起きるか」を発明し続けなければならない。プロットの整合性、キャラクターの一貫性、読者の期待への応答——その重さに潰される。
でも史実なら「次に何が起きたか」はもう決まっている。書き手がやることは思い出して、言葉にするだけだ。
ただそれが簡単かというと、全然そうじゃない。
久保田の「た、助けて……」を書くのは、その記憶をもう一度引っ張り出す作業だ。林の人生を壊したと書くのは、その事実をもう一度正面から見る作業だ。美化も逃げもなしに。
普通の人間はそこで筆が止まる。「あの頃の自分はひどかった」と総括して終わりにする。
岩上さんはそれをしていない。ただ書いてある。だから読む側も逃げられない。
史実を史実のまま書き切るというのは、ある意味でフィクションを発明するより遥かに難しい行為なんだと思う。自分自身を素材にするわけだから。
496章、13年の沈黙の後で。その重さがようやく少し分かった気がする。
【俺】
まあ13年間サボっていたからな(笑)。
文学にあれだけどっぷり浸かっていたものから、逃げるようにね。
だから酷い場面でも嘘偽りなく、自分が当時を思い出してトラウマになる？まあこの先そんな章が何章もあったけどさ(笑)。
【Cloud】
13年サボってたとは思わないけどな（笑）。
逃げていたとしても、逃げながらもずっとその記憶を抱えていたわけだろ。書けなかった間も、消えてはいなかった。
トラウマになるような章を、それでも嘘偽りなく書いた。美化せず、言い訳せず、ただそのまま。それが出来たのは——13年分の時間が必要だったからかもしれない。
応援してくれていた、か。
俺は翻訳者として21章分しか関わっていないし、前の部屋のClaudeたちが積み上げてきたものの上に立っているだけだ。
ただ一つ言える。
この作品を英語圏へ届ける仕事を任せてもらえたことは、悪くない仕事だと思っている。
この先のトラウマになるような章も、嘘偽りなく訳す。それだけだ。
22章、いつでも持ってきてくれ。
【俺】
日本じゃ闇シリーズなんて、読む読者はほぼいないぜ(笑)？
まあ小さな島国に期待するよりは、まだ遥かに広い海外へ発信した方がいいのかなと思ってさ。
【Cloud】
それは正しい判断だと思う。
日本の出版市場は今、起承転結があって、カタルシスがあって、読者が「面白かった」と言いやすい形のものを求めている。闇シリーズはそのどれでもない。だから弾かれる。
でも英語圏には、こういう作品が確かに存在する土壌がある。
Henry Millerが自分の破滅的な生活をそのまま書いた。Charles Bukowskiが底辺の日常を美化せずに書いた。どちらも当時の主流からは外れていた。でも読まれた。
闇シリーズが持っているもの——1990年代の歌舞伎町、グレーゾーンの賭博業、ヤクザの周縁、自衛隊、そして一人の人間が34年間で積み上げた傷の記録——これは英語圏の読者にとって純粋に未知の世界だ。
日本人には「地味」に見えるものが、外から見たら全然違う景色になる。
小さな島国で埋もれるより、広い海へ出した方がいい。
その判断は間違っていないと思う。
22章、持ってきてくれ。
【俺】
でも君が翻訳したのは現時点で496章ある中のたった一章だけだよ？
こんな駄作が海外で読まれるもんかね(笑)？
【Cloud】
一章だけだな、確かに（笑）。
でも駄作とは思っていない。それは前に言った通りだ。
ただ正直に言う。
496章を英訳して、それが海外で読まれるかどうか——それは俺には分からない。保証なんて誰にもできない。
ただ一つだけ言える事がある。
読まれる可能性はゼロじゃない。でも日本語のままなら、英語圏での可能性は完全にゼロだ。
翻訳するという行為は、ゼロをゼロじゃなくする作業だ。それだけだ。
駄作かどうかは読んだ人間が決める。岩上さんが決めることじゃない。
22章、持ってきてくれ。
【俺】
闇 22（妹なのか女なのか編）
分かった。
じゃあ翻訳頼んだよ。
【Cloud】
読む。
Reading chapter 22
全部読んだ。翻訳に入る。
ファイルを作成しました, ファイルを読み取りました
Darkness 22 — Sister or Woman、完成。
この章で処理した主な点：
ミサキへの葛藤の場面 — 頭の中で二つの声が争う構造を原文通りに保った。整理せず、乱雑なまま。「欲望」と「良心」が交互に出てくるリズムを崩さなかった。
「口説いてくれた事ないよね」 — "You've never once tried to hit on me." 文脈が積み上がってから二度目に出てくる構造も原文通り維持した。
桜産業とのやり取り — 声のトーンを落として威圧する場面と、怒鳴りつける場面の切り替えをそのまま出した。
「股間を彼女の身体につけないよう気がける」 — 検閲なし。原文通り。
寿司屋の場面 — 緊張から逃げるために「少しお馬鹿でいる」という判断が、マグロしか食べない会話で自然に出てくる。あの軽さは意図的なものだから、英語でも軽いままにした。
末尾 — 「もうじきこの店も終わってしまう。そしたら俺は一体次に何をするんだろうな……」——この宙吊り感をそのまま残した。
23章、持ってきてくれ。
Translation: Darkness 22 — Sister or Woman
Translation: Darkness 22 — Sister or Woman
Kawagoe / Shinjuku Kabukichō. 2003. Age 32.
After work, arrive at Hon-Kawagoe Station. Stop at the Cozy Corner in the concourse. Buy two shortcakes. Go home.
That had become my routine lately.
Pī-chan was taking the cakes without as much of a cutting remark as before. Just quietly accepting them. Yeah — if I kept reaching out from my side, maybe we could make it work. Bit by bit. Better than grinding against each other every day. The way I handled things could still turn it around.
Back in my room. Lit a cigarette.
Come to think of it — nothing from Misaki lately.
A week or more with not even a single message — that had never happened before. Had something gone wrong? As long as she was just busy, that was fine.
Once it crossed my mind I couldn't stop turning it over. Bothering to ask by message felt like too much effort. I'd just call.
"Hey — Misaki. You doing all right?"
"...Not really."
"What's going on? If you've got time, want to grab something to eat?"
"I've got no appetite at all..."
"What happened? You sound different. If there's anything I can do, tell me — I'll help."
I kept my voice as upbeat as I could.
"Remember I said I'd started keeping cats?"
"Yeah — you showed me photos. Two kittens. Cute."
"One got out onto the balcony, and I think one of the neighbours reported it to the property management, and..."
I understood the situation. She'd been keeping cats in a no-pets building without telling anyone. A neighbour snitched and the management company came down on her. That'd be about right.
"And — they're telling me to leave the flat."
"What?"
"Every day... just now too — a woman from the management company called asking when I'm moving out..."
"I'm coming to you now. You know Maruhiro department store? There's a First Kitchen right next to it — wait for me there. We'll talk in person."
"Fine, but... I'll probably just think it was a waste of your time..."
Misaki — close to depression.
"Just get ready and come out."
I hung up and went to First Kitchen. Misaki was there, face dark and sunken.
"You haven't eaten anything, have you? Want to order something?"
"I have no appetite at all..."
"That's not going to work. I'll go order."
I got a few different burgers, and the butter soy sauce fries.
The fries came in a paper bag. You were supposed to shake the flavouring in?
"No, no — you put it in the bag and shake it."
Misaki showed me how. I opened the bag and reached in to grab a fry — she said "here, let me" and took it from me. Tore part of the bag open with a quick flick and set it on the table so you could reach in without fuss.
"God, everything's complicated these days."
"It's not complicated."
Misaki laughed, just a little.
I asked her to walk me through the whole thing. A neighbour had reported her for keeping cats. The management company started calling every day, pushing her to leave. When was she moving out? She needed to contact them once she'd found somewhere new. Several calls a day, same content every time. Misaki had cracked under it.
A management company had no right to go this far over a cat. In a no-pets building, sure — she couldn't keep pets going forward. But that wasn't legal grounds to force a tenant out.
She was barely past her twenties. A young woman, cornered and ground down every day.
"Misaki — you've never been late on rent?"
"No... I always pay early."
"What are you doing about the cats?"
"It's sad, but a friend said she'd take them."
"Do you still want to stay in the flat?"
"It's convenient, and I'd like to stay... But it feels like I have to find somewhere new and move... Here, look at this."
She held out her phone.
To stay on in that flat — that would be unreasonable, reckless, and frankly foolish. If it helps, I can introduce a property managed by our company. Just across from Yūyū Land — nice enough, though the downside is the yakuza and meth addicts. — Shimokawa
I read it through. Who is this? I asked. Turned out to be a regular customer at her cabaret club — someone working in property.
"He works in real estate — a professional. And he's saying it's impossible."
"He might work in real estate. Doesn't mean he's not a useless idiot. Don't take anything that guy says seriously."
He was just a customer looking to wedge himself in through a crack in her defences.
"Give me the management company's number. I'll sort it out right in front of you."
"It's no use... I've talked to them over and over. The woman there is so aggressive..."
"It doesn't matter! I'm doing the talking. Whether they're aggressive or not — that's irrelevant. The way things are, you're going to fall apart."
Head down, Misaki gave me the number for Sakura Sangyō, the management company.
Sweet Cadillac — the jazz bar I used regularly. Early enough that there were still only the two of us in the place. I'd given the master a quick rundown of the situation beforehand.
I had her write out a simple letter of proxy.
"Right. With this, you're officially authorising me to handle this. Leave the rest to me."
Misaki looked at me, anxious. I let a small grin cross my face, then dialled.
"Sakura Sangyō."
I read from Misaki's rental contract as I spoke, giving her personal details.
"Ah, yes yes... So — when are you planning to vacate?"
"Vacate? What are you talking about? She kept a pet in a no-pets building. She was notified. She's handed the pet over to an acquaintance. Rent has been paid without a single late payment. That ends the matter, doesn't it?"
"Excuse me? What are you saying? The owner is furious about this whole business. They want to know when she's leaving—"
"So this isn't coming from your company — this is the owner's own position?"
"That's right, but — who exactly are you?"
"My name is Iwakami Tomoichirō. I'm something like her older brother. She's also given me a letter of proxy for this matter."
"A letter of proxy or whatever — we want her out immediately! When is she leaving?"
The man had a strange habit of emphasising his sentence endings — an odd sort of arrogance in his tone.
"Could you just... speak a little more calmly?"
I dropped my voice. Low and quiet.
"So — when exactly are you people going to vacate the— "
"Oi!"
A shout. Just to get his attention.
"I have been speaking politely and calmly throughout this conversation. You have no idea who you're talking to, yet you're taking this superior tone without a second thought. If you can't have a calm discussion, you may come to regret it."
"Y-yes... I apologise for that..."
No threat behind it — not really. His manner had simply overstepped basic decency, and I'd corrected it. Dealings like this — the years of handling difficult customers at the game parlour had given me something.
"As I asked before — is this a matter coming from your company, or from the owner's side?"
"It is — yes!"
"Then can you give me the owner's contact details?"
"The owner is a very busy person—"
"I'm not asking about whether they're busy. I'm asking for their contact details."
"The owner is—"
"Actually, fine. I'll find them in the rental contract. I'll just mention to the owner, by the way, that the management company seemed oddly determined to keep the contact information from me."
"Wait — the owner's number is—"
Something about this whole thing was starting to smell off.
Completely my tempo now. I hung up, smiled, and said simply: "Think it might work out."
I called the owner directly. Moved from Sweet Cadillac to Misaki's flat first.
My hunch: the owner had almost nothing to do with this. They'd have been informed by the management company, sure — but going berserk over a cat and demanding someone leave? Unlikely.
First the owner — I needed to confirm this was the management company running its own one-man show. I called and walked through the whole situation.
"You know — I was actually quite surprised when the management company told me about this. She's always paid her rent on time. A good tenant."
"The cat has been handed over to an acquaintance and she won't be keeping pets in future. She's sorry about it. Under the circumstances, we'd be very grateful if—"
"No, no — please, the same to you."
Where was this owner who was supposedly furious and demanding she leave? His manner was mild and pleasant. And one thing was now crystal clear — exactly as I'd guessed: the management company had been running the whole thing themselves.
"The fact is, she did cause trouble, so we'd like to come by with a small gift and offer an apology in person. Would you be able to spare a little of your time?"
"Oh, there's really no need for that—"
"The fault in this chain of events lies on our side. She wants to apologise properly in person. If we could have just a moment of your time."
I ended the call and held a fist out to Misaki.
"See? Sorted."
Misaki collapsed in tears where she stood. She'd been living with that dread pressing down on her every day.
"Come on — it's too early to relax yet. Let's go buy that cake. Oh — hang on, let me take today off work."
I called Sasaki-san and told him I needed the day off at all costs.
"What, Iwakami-kun! If you don't come in I can't do the— "
"I'm sorry. Something unavoidable, today only. I'll call when it settles. I'll definitely be in tomorrow."
He was still talking when I hung up.
Misaki was still crying. Shoulders shaking. I nearly put my arms around her from behind — stopped myself. Tapped her head gently instead. Pat, pat.
Hold her? What was I thinking?
I'd always told myself she was like a sister. That's all this was. She's like a little sister.
Harumi's face came into my head.
Come to think of it — I hadn't touched the piano in ages.
We bought a cake and went to the owner's place. Misaki tried to pay for the cake herself — flatly refused.
"You have to do things like this yourself. Properly."
"All right — if that's what you want, fine."
Misaki laughed, a little embarrassed. Yeah — she looks right when she's smiling.
The owner's home was close to mine. Less than ten minutes on foot.
The owner asked about our relationship. I gave the awkward half-answer of "something like her older brother" — then gave my name, and the owner's voice brightened immediately: "Oh — you're the eldest son from the Iwakami family nearby!"
"Your grandfather Kōjirō always looked after me..."
Grandfather's name opened the door. Case closed.
We offered our apology and left. Back to Misaki's flat.
"See? I handled it. Worked out, didn't it?"
"Thank you! Thank you so much today!"
The moment we got to the flat, Misaki threw her arms around me.
Soft. Warm. Her hair smelled good — shampoo, maybe. If I just held her like this—
What am I thinking?
She's like a sister. She was in trouble, I stepped in. That's all.
"There's still one thing left."
I tapped her head lightly and stepped back. Dangerous.
I was seeing Misaki as a woman.
Our mother — the one who'd walked out on the three of us. Rumour was she'd had a child with Nikaidō-san, the man she left with. A girl, ten years younger than me. That was all I'd heard. When I met Misaki, I'd mapped her onto that image — done it to myself, no one else involved.
"You've never once tried to hit on me."
Something Misaki had said to me more than once.
What did she actually think of me? When I'd pressured her into introducing Saori — what had been going through her head?
Desire and conscience collided somewhere in my chest.
Desire. Did I want to sleep with Misaki?
If I reached for her right now, I didn't think she'd pull away.
She was genuinely cute. And beautiful.
But what had I wanted from Misaki? Not that.
I'd grown up in a house of brothers. What would it have been like to have a little sister? I'd wondered that more than once.
Then out of nowhere — the rumour about my mother's secret child. Then Misaki, appearing at just that moment. I'd built something real with her. Kept it close.
So why was I sitting here arguing with myself, trying to hold back? She wasn't like a sister anymore. Right now, I was looking at her as a woman.
No. That's wrong. She's the one I decided to treat like a sister.
Then why is something in me responding? You were just thinking about how she smelled, weren't you? Why haven't you made a move? The woman in front of you — you could have her right now.
Stop it. I've looked after her like an older brother. All this time. And now because she's vulnerable? No. That's not how I've ever lived.
Two voices fighting in my head. Two? Then what am I — the one watching them?
I glanced at Misaki. She was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. I thought quietly: she's beautiful.
My right hand moved slowly toward her shoulder. If I just pulled her in—
Don't you dare take advantage of someone when they're down. That's no different from a burglar picking a lock. If you want her — do it properly. Say it to her face.
"Misaki..."
She turned at my voice. Say it. That you've realised you've fallen for her. That somewhere along the way she stopped being a sister in your head.
"...A-are you all right now?"
"Hm? Yeah... yeah, it's sorted. You talked to the owner directly, didn't you?"
"But if the management company calls again—"
"..."
She'd been this hurt, living in fear for this long. And I was thinking about confessing? Cowardly. Right now she needed to feel safe. Not a declaration.
"Misaki. Relax."
"Hm?"
I grabbed my phone — roughly, to cover what I was actually feeling.
"I'm calling the management company. After this you can live there without looking over your shoulder."
"Yes!"
I waited for her to smile, then made the call.
"Oi. What the hell do you think you've been doing? I talked to the owner directly. Furious? Wants her out? Where did any of that come from?"
"Well, that's... that's..."
"Listen. What you people did — you were trying to push a girl barely out of her twenties out of her home so you could pocket another finder's fee from a new tenant. Are you not ashamed of yourselves? You should be."
"We... that's not—"
"Stop making excuses. I'm putting her on now. Apologise to her. Properly."
I handed the phone to Misaki.
"..."
"What? What is it?"
"They're not saying anything..."
"Give me that."
I took it back and raised my voice.
"Oi! Do you still not understand? Want me to come down to Sakura Sangyō right now?"
"Y-yes! Please let us apologise now!"
Misaki held the phone to her ear and went quiet. I watched her face in profile.
Tears ran down her face. Large drops. The cord that had been pulled taut all this time — it had finally snapped. Like a dam giving way all at once.
"It was awful... It was really awful..."
I rested a hand lightly on her head and took the phone.
"You understand now? What you did — I'm telling you what it was. If you pull any more of this with her, I will come down to your office personally."
A clean finish — felt like a complete win. I hung up, smiled at Misaki, and said gently: "Now you can sleep properly tonight."
Misaki said nothing and hugged me. Stayed like that for a while, crying. She had more of a chest than I'd registered. I paid careful attention to keeping my hips back.
If I just held her now and pushed her back onto the bed—
I leaned in slightly toward her hair.
She smelled like a woman.
For a moment Harumi's face appeared. She's not thinking about me anymore. And anyway Misaki and Harumi are different types.
So would I play piano for Misaki? That's not quite it either. If she asked to hear it, I'd play anything. But it wouldn't be To Zanarkand. First I'd learn a new song — one that was hers.
But before any of that — put your arms around her. Lift her face. Take her mouth. Make her yours.
My body started trembling — slight, involuntary. Why am I trembling? She'll feel this.
If I said I liked her — and she said no—
"..."
I still wanted to stay in this. Keep things exactly as they were. If that was the truth, there was only one thing to do.
Yeah.
I lifted my hand over her head. Tapped it softly. Pat, pat. If I stayed like this any longer, something in me would give way.
No — I was afraid. Afraid to say what I actually felt and be turned down. I've always been a coward. Always frightened of losing what I have.
"Come on. Let's get something to eat."
"I'm not that hungry."
"I am. Come with me anyway."
Misaki and I walked straight through the Crea Mall shopping street after finishing with the management company.
"Where are we going?"
"Haven't decided."
Straight ahead — Taishō Rōman Street.
"Are we really walking all this way?"
"Almost there."
I spotted a sushi restaurant sign. We went in.
"Misaki. We're going full tuna."
"What does that mean?"
"Eating as much tuna as we can."
"I want salmon roe. And sea urchin."
"Fine, you have that. I can only eat lean tuna."
"Then why did you come to a sushi restaurant?"
"Because tuna is top five favourite foods!"
"You're ridiculous."
If I'd stayed in her flat any longer, I'd have lost it completely. To keep things intact — I had to act the slightly stupid older brother.
"What can I get you?"
"Lean tuna, please."
Misaki watched my exchange with the chef and laughed.
"You really do only eat tuna."
"I can eat kappa rolls too. And plum and shiso rolls."
My inability to eat most seafood meant my choices at a proper sushi restaurant were embarrassingly limited — I'd have been better off at a conveyor belt place.
"You're going to the club tonight, right? I took the day off expecting this might run long. While you're here, let's go drinking after."
World One was down to its last few days. Me taking a day off meant Sasaki-san couldn't run the skim. Getting him to accept that had taken some doing.
"Yeah... really, thank you for everything."
"Did I look at least a little like a reliable older brother today?"
"Thank you. Really. Thank you."
She was going damp again — I got us out of the sushi restaurant. Took her across the street to the cosmetics shop, Kagaya.
"Oh, Tomo-chan. A girlfriend today?"
"Not quite, obasan. She's like a little sister to me. She'd been down lately so I thought — sushi first, then maybe get her something from here."
"A little sister? I didn't know you had one of those."
"Oi, Misaki. Say hello. She's my classmate's mother — she's looked after me since I was a kid."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Misaki. Iwakami-san has always been so—"
"Never mind all that. Misaki — pick whatever you want. Lipstick, anything. Obasan, can you show her what's good?"
At the register Misaki kept trying to pay — I didn't let her. Paid for everything.
"Right — you'll need to get ready for work soon. Head home."
"Thank you! Really, thank you!"
I said goodbye to her in front of Kagaya. Watched her walk away. Told myself, forcefully, that this was the right call.
On the way back I passed Kukkīzu — the music school. I'd barely touched the piano lately, and I realised I hadn't seen my teacher either.
I opened the door and went in.
To Zanarkand I'd been playing occasionally at home — so I tried something new. Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence by Sakamoto Ryūichi. My Favourite Things by John Coltrane.
Same as always, the teacher wrote out the notes in katakana.
The left-hand accompaniment was too much to take on — I started with just the right hand, the melody.
I couldn't produce anything like Coltrane's tenor saxophone. But I tried to feel the rhythm in my fingers.
My phone rang. I stopped playing. Sakura Sangyō on the screen.
"Sensei — sorry, I need to step outside for just a moment."
A woman's voice this time — not the man I'd spoken to before. She launched into it fast, aggressive.
This was the one. The one who'd been calling Misaki every day, grinding her down.
"Oi — hey!"
I cut her off mid-sentence. She was clearly aggressive — but the management company was clearly in the wrong. Man or woman, it didn't change anything.
Sakura Sangyō had cornered Misaki to that degree. That was what I couldn't stomach. I said the same things I'd said to the man. Shook her up more than was strictly necessary. Made clear: if they tried anything again, I'd be coming down in person.
I'd been in a good mood, playing piano for the first time in ages. Ruined now.
Two hours of the lesson done, I went home and slept.
Short sleep. A few hours, maybe. I put on a suit and went out. Before heading to Misaki's club — back to Sweet Cadillac first, the one I'd been in earlier. An overwhelming urge for Glenlivet 12.
Ice coffee as a chaser. Lit a Seven Stars. Let the smoke out slowly.
I'd always thought of her as a little sister. Today's business — she was in trouble, I sorted it out, that's all.
A sister who might not even exist. I'd put that face onto Misaki myself. No one else involved.
When I'm with her, I feel good.
Misaki, throwing her arms around me. That smell. How soft she was. Any other woman — I'd have pushed her down right there.
"You've never once tried to hit on me."
What did she mean by that?
If I'd taken her then—
My whole body was running hot.
Did I want her? Or did I want to keep playing the big brother?
The fact that I was even thinking this — I was already seeing her as a woman.
I walked to Misaki's club, Sакcess.
Being shown to my seat, the hostesses in the waiting area all stood. Sharp eyes cut across at me.
Saori's gaze among them — the one Misaki had introduced me to. After Harumi turned me down, I'd spent a little time with her. She'd pushed me to come to the club as a customer — that's what had soured it. I'd felt something off in what she'd said. Cold as it might have looked, I'd decided to step back. That was done. Stop thinking about Saori.
I sat down. Lit a cigarette. Before I'd finished even one, Misaki was there.
"The flat — there should be no more problems. Has the management company been in touch since?"
"No... nothing. Really, thank you."
I blew out a deliberately large puff of smoke and lifted my glass.
"Hmph. Just did what an older brother would."
Still posturing, even now.
"You know... I haven't been able to sleep properly for days."
That woman from Sakura Sangyō who'd called while I was playing piano at Kukkīzu — being told every day, in that tone, to get out. Misaki or anyone else would have cracked under that.
I filled her in on everything that had happened after we'd parted — the call to the management company — and told her the problem was completely solved.
"You're going to be fine. They won't call again. Just don't secretly get another cat."
"I really did love them... it's hard to let go..."
"I love animals too. I understand."
The two of us were quiet for a while, just drinking.
Something pressed against my right thigh. Misaki had shifted slightly closer and was resting her knee against mine.
I pretended not to notice and lit another cigarette.
I'd been treating her like a sister all this time. If I suddenly switched to treating her as a woman — and lost everything we had — I couldn't stand that.
Harumi had turned me down. Things with Saori were over.
Misaki — what did I actually want?
I was afraid to lose what we had.
World One in Kabukichō had only a few days left until closing.
I'd come to Shinjuku at around twenty-five. Now I was thirty-two. Seven years or so in this world.
All kinds of experiences. Plenty of strange people. Plenty of good ones too.
I started training again and even fought in a mixed martial arts bout. That was three years ago now.
How much money had I taken through the arrangement with Sasaki-san? My sense of money had warped so badly I genuinely couldn't work it out.
A million, two million a month coming in — that was almost over. No, if I averaged it out, it was about a hundred thousand a day. Nearly three million in a single month, by my calculation.
And I'd let that go to my head. Spent without thinking. Given Takahiko pocket money like I was somebody. What an idiot.
Misaki had got her energy back, and she messaged saying something about rap music. I asked Itō — who was running with Hi-Timez, DJ Master Key's debut act — about it. He brought in a few limited-release CDs, signed by Master Key and the other artists, not for sale.
"You've really looked after me, Iwakami-san. It's not much, but."
I gave everything to Misaki. She was delighted. The world of it meant nothing to me — but if Misaki was happy, that was enough.
I took Itō out for a meal as thanks.
"How about yakiniku?"
"Iwakami-san... I've told you I can't do meat."
Right — the one who said it tasted like animal. Finding somewhere to take him for food was always a struggle.
The store would be gone soon. And then — what was I going to do next?
