ME: A Novel. Tomoyuki Hoshino
that supposed to mean?” I retorted.
“You see? You make people feel like they have no idea what you’re going to do next.”
“Just because I head-butted Tajima? Well, I only played dirty because Tajima is himself a dirty player. I was just giving him a dose of his own medicine.”
“Yes, you two may be similar.”
“Cut the crap.”
“It’s not crap. You and Tajima are both simple souls: when you’re hurt, you don’t heal. And that makes you dangerous. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Yeah, now I can see it too: you two have a lot in common,” Yasokichi affirmed.
“We’re nothing alike!” I snapped.
“Tajima was a fine young man when he first joined the company, with a positive outlook on things. He’s a man of talent and skill who can be plugged in here and there to perform a variety of tasks. But when he feels underappreciated, he gets his back up against the wall. And that’s made him embittered. He takes pride in being the only one who can do this or that, when, in fact, anyone could. And then he feels hurt. So when Nagano came along, the touted camera expert, Tajima couldn’t take it.”
“Minami-san, I thought you suggested we go out for drinks to cheer me up, but now I feel more hounded than ever. I’m going home.”
“Let’s call it a night then. Nagano’s about to get all teary.”
I walked with them as far as the Hiyoshi Station ticket gate. As a parting shot, Minami-san added for good measure, “Don’t let yourself get all worked up about Tajima. If you do, you’ll wind up just like him.”
“I was hurt today,” I replied reproachfully. “And I won’t be getting over it.”
* * *
My spirits remained low when I returned to my apartment. As I put the key in the lock and opened the door, I decided to hit the sack without bothering to shower first. But then I noticed that the light was on in the dining room and was immediately enveloped in tepid air and the smell of cooking. I could hear the sound of the television, and from the other side of the sliding door in front of me came a voice: “Dai-chan? You’re home so late!” A moment later its source stood before me: an elderly woman I had never seen before.
“I’m sorry!” I said, panicking, as I started to back away. “I’m in the wrong place!”
“What are you saying? This is your place, isn’t it? You must be upset at my sudden visit, but you’re the one who’s at fault here, you know. You’ve changed your cell phone number, haven’t you? You should have told me. You promised me you’d call the next day, but then you didn’t, and when I tried to call, I couldn’t get through. And you responded to none of my messages. I thought something must have happened. I was afraid you might have gotten yourself caught up with some loan shark. I almost called the police. But then Kasumi said I should just look for you here. So I dropped everything and came. Now don’t just stand there, come on in!”
I did as I was told and took off my shoes. The silly question I was about to pose—Who the hell are you?—died on my lips. I could tell from her voice and manner of speaking exactly who she was: Daiki’s mother.
But why was she here? Unless she was involved with the police, she had no way of knowing my address. Was it a sting operation? I’d heard of would-be victims of remittance fraud playing along in order to help the police arrest the culprits. But I had given her my own account number, so there was no need for any such charade.
So what was the scam? What sort of scheme was I caught up in?
“Your face tells me you’ve been drinking. Do you need anything to eat? I’ve prepared something simple . . .”
“No thanks,” I answered cautiously, taking my place onstage.
“How are you feeling? Have you been overdoing it?”
“I’m all right.”
“Did you solve that problem involving your friend?”
“Yeah. You came to the rescue all right—and I’m grateful.”
She persisted even as I kept giving her brusque answers. “Dai-chan, are you sure you’re not hiding anything from me?”
She’s closing in on me! I thought, bracing myself. For a moment I contemplated confessing everything and returning all of the money. It occurred to me that if I opened up in that way I might get off the hook. But I hesitated, unable to reply to her question. After an awkward lull in our exchange, I gave up any hope of conning her this way.
“Well, to be honest, I haven’t touched that money yet. So let me give it all back to you.”
“What? Do you mean the story about your friend in trouble was a lie? If so, what was the money for? I really don’t understand. Do you think you can get any old tale past your mother? Don’t be ridiculous! Parents can always see through their children’s shenanigans, and I smelled a rat from the beginning. So tell me what’s going on!”
She was shouting now, stubbornly keeping this charade going. It was irritating and also rather creepy. Here I was more or less leveling with her, so why did she have to drag this out? But was it really a charade? And if not . . . what it would it mean if Daiki’s mother really thought I was him?
It was a horrifying idea. Suddenly I didn’t care about getting arrested; I just wanted out. Get me back to reality! I silently pleaded.
“Okay, okay, I did something stupid. It was just an impulse. I didn’t mean any harm. It just happened . . .” Clinging to that idea, I told her the whole story. I thought that I could somehow reset everything that had happened since I picked up Daiki’s cell phone. I didn’t know that it was already too late.
Mother heard my confession, only to fly into another rage: “Of all the nerve! So you say you’re not my son? Fine. If you want to treat your old mother like a stranger, go right ahead! You’ve been neglecting me all this time anyway. In exchange, I won’t hold back either—I’d been telling myself not to intrude. I was waiting for you to tell me. But I’ve had enough, so I’ll ask you anyway: are you going to marry Mamiko-chan or not?”
I was speechless, having no idea how to reply.
“I see . . . When faced with an inconvenient question, you fall into convenient silence. Very well then, go your merry way. It’s your life. Never mind your mother.”
“It’s . . . it’s not like that.” I barely managed to spit out the words, unnerved at not knowing what Mother would do next.
“Then what is it? Just tell me something.”
“I’ve broken up with Mamiko.”
I’d caught her off-guard. “Oh,” she sighed, looking momentarily dazed.
I felt somewhat relieved. And then my mind began to work. “Actually, the money I borrowed has something to do with that. I made a terrible mess, hurting her and all, and so I wanted to put a little space between us.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sorry, really sorry. Look, what I told you before is true: I was driving my friend’s car with Mamiko and we had an accident. Mamiko was badly hurt.”
“Oh no! How badly hurt?”
“Multiple hip fractures. She’s a lot better now, with no aftereffects. We’d both been drinking, so the insurance barely covered anything. I managed to get some money together, borrowing it from friends. I told Mamiko how sorry I was and tried to take care of her, so that even though there aren’t any bad vibes, it’s somehow not quite right. We feel awkward together, you know, uncomfortable. There’s now a distance between us. We decided not to meet for a while, and then about a month later Mamiko suggested that