Grotesque Read online

  Mokku turned back toward the corridor, still in Mitsuru’s grip. Then, with an exaggerated flourish, she shrugged her shoulders and stomped out of the room. I could hear the students behind her sigh loudly with collective disappointment.

  It was a good feeling. Ever since I was young I have loved bringing Yuriko down more than anything else. When people see a beautiful woman, they expect her to be perfect; they want her to remain beyond their reach. They feel she’s safer that way, more adorable. So when they find out she’s crude and unrefined, their admiration turns to scorn and their envy turns to hatred. Maybe the only reason I was born was to quash Yuriko’s value.

  “Wow, I can’t believe he showed up too.” At the sound of Mitsuru’s voice I returned to my senses.

  “Who?”

  “Takashi Kijima. He’s Professor Kijima’s son and he’s in his group.”

  One boy still lingered behind in the corridor after all the rest had left. He stood at the door to the classroom peering in at me. He looked exactly like his father: same compact little face, same slender build. His features were so nicely balanced you couldn’t help but call him pretty. And there wasn’t a hint of strength to him. Kijima’s son’s sharp eyes locked onto mine. I stared at him until he looked away.

  “I’ve heard he’s a problem kid,” Mitsuri said.

  She still clutched the biology book to her breast, brushing her fingers softly over the binding where Takakuni Kijima’s name was written. I could tell from her gestures that she was in love. I wanted to say something mean to her, something to shock her back to reality.

  “Well, what do you expect for a deviant?”

  “How do you know he’s deviant?” Mitsuru asked, startled.

  “I’ve got eyes, don’t I?”

  Kijima’s son and I had something in common. Kijima’s son was the blight on his father’s honor, and I was the blight to Yuriko’s beauty. We were both giant zeros. I suppose Kijima’s son had come to get a look at me because he harbored a distrust of Yuriko’s monstrous beauty. Once he saw me, he was able to despise her. But Kijima’s son was male after all, so I suppose he couldn’t help feeling sympathy for a woman like Yuriko, who was just as stupid as she was beautiful. I was sick of being put in these difficult situations. I had to continue at this school, and Yuriko’s presence was going to make my life unpleasant. I didn’t want to end my time here as a giant zero, like Kijima’s son. So from that day on I was determined to find a way to get rid of Yuriko.

  “Hey, what’s going on here?” I heard someone say in an overly friendly way. I turned to see Kazue Sat placing her hands on Mitsuru’s shoulders in a chummy show of friendship. Kazue was always trying to make friends with Mitsuru and was constantly starting up conversations with her. Today she was wearing a ridiculously short miniskirt that only accentuated how skinny her legs were. Kazue was knobby and angular and so thin you could feel her bones if you touched her. Her hair was thick and lackluster. And of course there was that silly red logo. I could just picture her sitting in that pathetically gloomy room of hers with needle and thread, madly embroidering Ralph Lauren logos on her socks.

  “We were talking about her younger sister,” Mitsuru said, coolly brushing Kazue’s hands off her shoulders. Kazue blanched for a second, feelings hurt, and then recovered with a look of feigned indifference.

  “What about her sister?”

  “She’s enrolled in the junior high division. She’s in Professor Kijima’s group.”

  A look of uneasiness gradually crept over Kazue’s face. I recalled her own younger sister—who was the spitting image of Kazue—and said nothing.

  “That’s great. She must be really smart!”

  “Not particularly. She got in under the kikokushijo category. You know, for the children of Japanese who’ve been brought up abroad.”

  “So it pays to spend time abroad? It’s true that you can get into a school like this without having to really study—just on the basis of living overseas?” Kazue let out a sigh. “I wish my father’d been transferred overseas.”

  “But that’s not all, Kazue. Her sister’s absolutely gorgeous on top of everything else.”

  I was sure Mitsuru hated Kazue. She kept tapping her front teeth with her fingernail while she talked to her. And the way she did it was different from when she talked to me. It was more random.

  “Gorgeous? How do you mean?” Kazue scowled at me. What she meant to say was, How can you possibly have a gorgeous younger sister? You’re not even remotely attractive.

  “What I mean is, everyone’s saying she’s a knockout. Just a few minutes ago, all the junior high kids came running over here to get a look at the big sister.”

  Kazue looked down at her hands with hollow eyes as if she’d just realized that she held nothing—nothing to put up in comparison.

  “My sister’s set her sights on this school too.”

  “Tell her not to bother,” I said crossly. Kazue flushed red and looked as if she were going to say something in response but bit her lip instead. “What I mean is, the insider students are so nasty they won’t let you enter the clubs you want, will they?”

  Kazue made a show of clearing her throat in an effort to avoid my obvious sarcasm. She’d joined the ice-skating team. But I’d heard others gossip that she was having a hard time coming up with the rink fees. The team had to dole out a lot of money to pay the Olympic-class coach they’d hired and cover the cost of renting the rink for lessons. Because of that, they’d accept any girl who wanted to join. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t skate a lick; as long as she could help with the costs, they didn’t care. The students at this school were absolutely indifferent to the hardships their own pleasures imposed on those around them.

  “Well, just so you know, I’ve joined the ice skating team. They were second on my list after the cheerleading squad, so I’m very happy with the way things turned out.”

  “Have they let you skate yet?”

  Kazue ran her tongue over her lips a couple of times, apparently searching for the right words.

  “It’s the rich insiders who monopolize the rink, isn’t it?” I said. “Or else the really pretty girls who look cute in their little outfits. That Olympic coach probably gives them private lessons anyway, so they get all the attention. Nothing like favoritism. The only other way to get noticed around here is to actually have talent. What a crock. The very idea of those high school students out there pretending to be ice skaters is a farce. It’s just an amusement for the little princesses anyway.”

  At that, Kazue’s eyes lit up and she smiled so broadly I thought she might rip her face open. Oh, yes. Kazue was nothing if not ambitious. And all she wanted—with a desire greater than anyone else’s—was to be recognized as “a little princess” who was as talented in the classroom as she was on the ice. This had been Kazue’s father’s most fervent wish.

  “I bet all they let you do is clean the rink and take care of their shoes. They may call it physical training, but it’s more like hazing. And how many times did you have to run around the playing field the other day when it was over ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit? You looked like you were going to die! Is that the kind of amusement that’s fit for a princess?”

  “It’s not hazing or anything of the sort!” Kazue finally regained the power to speak. “You have to train like that to build up basic strength.”

  “And once you build up your basic strength, then what? Are you going to try out for the Olympics?”

  I had to say it. And I wasn’t just being cruel. This dim-witted girl believed all you had to do was try your best and you could do anything. I wanted to set her straight. She knew nothing about the real world, and I wanted to explain the way things really worked. But more than that, I wanted to get my revenge on her father for having poisoned her with those stupid ideas in the first place.

  When I looked up I noticed that Mitsuru was working her way over to the window where a group of girls were having a conversation. They admitted her into their