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  “What are you doing sitting up here?”

  “Ah, it’s you?” Zhang looked up at me in surprise. My eye lit on a gold chain glittering around Zhang’s neck.

  “That’s Yuriko’s necklace, isn’t it?”

  “What, this?” Zhang touched the necklace as if he’d just remembered it was there. “So, her name was Yuriko?”

  “Yes, she was an acquaintance of mine. She always dressed exactly like me.”

  “She did, didn’t she, now that you mention it.”

  Zhang twisted the chain around his fingers. Rainwater dripped off my umbrella and pooled onto a corner of the mattress like a spreading stain. Zhang didn’t seem to notice.

  “You killed Yuriko, didn’t you?”

  “That’s right. I killed her because she asked me to. It was the same with my sister. I said my sister fell into the sea and drowned, but that was a lie. I killed her. In the container, on the voyage to Japan, we had sex every night. She was repulsed by the idea of living like a beast and asked me, with tears in her eyes, to kill her. I told her not to worry about our relationship and asked her any number of times to go ahead and live with me like husband and wife, but she wouldn’t do it. So I threw her in the sea. I could see her hands waving from between the swells as she drifted farther and farther from me; it was as if she were bidding me good-bye. She was smiling. She seemed happy to be waving good-bye to her life with me. We borrowed so much money just to make it to Japan. I couldn’t believe how stupid she was. So whenever I meet a woman who says, ‘Kill me,’ I’m only too happy to oblige. If she just can’t deal with her life, I’ll step up to settle things for her. How about you?”

  Zhang smiled slightly in the darkness. The wind had grown strong and lashed our faces with rain. I turned aside, trying to avoid the rain, but Zhang just grimaced as he let the rain pelt his face. His forehead glistened with moisture.

  “I don’t want to die yet. But I may before too long.”

  Zhang grabbed my legs. “You’re so thin! Like a skeleton. I can’t understand why you can’t gain any weight. Do you suppose you’re sick? My sister and that Yuriko woman were both healthy. Why are you the one who’s sick? It’s sad, isn’t it?”

  “You think I’m sick? But I don’t want to die.”

  “There are people out there who are already on the road to death, and they don’t even know it. And then there are people who are a picture of health but choose to die anyway. Don’t you agree?”

  I was suddenly assailed by sorrow. Why was it that when I talked to Zhang I felt so lonely, so sad? I sat down on the filthy, sodden mattress. Zhang grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me to him. He smelled of sweat and dirt, but I didn’t mind.

  “Be good to me. Please.”

  I burrowed my face in Zhang’s chest, playing with the chain that glittered at his neck.

  “All right. And in return, you be good to me.”

  We held each other, murmuring over and over, “Be good; please be good to me.”

  • 9 •

  JANUARY 30

  SHIBUYA: WA (?), ¥10,000

  SHIBUYA: FOREIGNER, ¥3,000

  Zhang’s a big liar. A piece of shit. And a murderer! I placed my can of beer, packet of dried squid, and bottle of gymnema pills on the counter at the convenience store and thought about him.

  “Hey!” Someone poked me in the back. I realized I’d cut in line but I didn’t care, I stood where I was and placed an order for oden stew.

  “I want fish cake, radish, and konnyaku—one of each. And fill the bowl up with broth, will you.”

  The man behind the counter gave a snort of annoyance, but the female clerk—who was used to seeing me there—went to the cauldron of oden and picked out what I wanted without any expression at all. The two young women standing in line behind me mumbled something—either an insult or a complaint—so I turned and glared at them. They looked intimidated. It amused me. I’d taken to staring people directly in the eye—in the office, at home, wherever. I am a monster. Everyone treats me like I’m special. And if you have a problem with it, just try to be like me!

  I went outside and quickly slurped the broth. The smooth warm liquid slipped down my throat. I knew the heat of the liquid would shrink my stomach. It would grow smaller and smaller. A train rumbled passed on the Inokashira Line tracks. I straightened up and watched it pull into Shinsen Station. I wondered if Zhang was in it.

  More than half a year had past since Zhang and I clung to each other that rainy night. It was now January. We’d had a mild winter so far, which made things a lot easier for me. Whenever I got to Shinsen Station, I always looked for Zhang. Once, as I peered up through the fence from the road, I thought I saw a man who looked like him standing on the platform. But I hadn’t run into him since that rainy night. That was just as well. He was nothing to me. I put all my energy into my night work. Zhang will continue to live in this country, forgetting that he’s killed Yuriko.

  That night we’d both been desperately sentimental. But still, I had had to burst out laughing when I heard Zhang’s ridiculous little soliloquy.

  “I loved that prostitute. The one you said was Yuriko.”

  “Oh, give me a break! That’s not really likely, is it? I mean, you had just met her. And Yuriko wasn’t anything more than a shabby whore. Besides, I doubt even she would have believed you. She hated men, you know.”

  Zhang grabbed me by the throat as I squirmed in laughter, as if he was going to strangle me.

  “Oh, so you think it’s funny? Well, how about I do you the same way? You stupid bitch.”

  The orange light illuminating the entry to the staircase reflected in Zhang’s eyes, making them glitter. He looked possessed, creepy. Frightened, I slapped Zhang’s hands away and stood up. The rain struck my cheeks. I raised my hand to wipe it off and realized it wasn’t water, it was Zhang’s spit. Sperm, spit: a woman receives what men excrete.

  “Get lost.” Zhang waved me away, and I rushed down from the roof. I scrambled down the slippery staircase, kicking the wet garbage aside as I went. What was it about Zhang that I wanted to try to escape? Even I wasn’t sure. As I got to the front door of the building, I collided with a man who was dashing in from the outside. His body, damp with rain and sweat, emitted a peculiar odor. His black T-shirt was soaked, revealing a slender build. It was Dragon. I adjusted my wig and called out to him.

  “Hello!”

  Dragon did not reply. Instead he riveted me with his needle-sharp gaze.

  “Zhang’s on the roof,” I informed him. “Do you know why he’s hanging out up there? He’s running from something.”

  I had planned to tell Dragon that Zhang had murdered Yuriko, and that was why he was on the lam. But before I could, Dragon surprised me with an explanation of his own.

  “He’s running from us, the asshole. He’s cheated us out of all our money, and until he pays us back we’ve told him he’s not welcome to come back.”

  The night I had slept with Chen-yi and Dragon one after the other, Dragon had been kissing Zhang’s ass. But tonight, Dragon was arrogant.

  “Yeah, well, he killed a prostitute, you know. He killed a prostitute in Shinjuku,” I said, smirking at him.

  “A prostitute? Let him kill all the prostitutes he wants. They’re easily replaced. But money, that’s different!”

  Dragon shook the cheap vinyl umbrella he was carrying, sending raindrops scattering in all directions.

  “Well, don’t you agree?”

  I nodded, yes. He had a point. Money was definitely more valuable than life. But then, when I died, my money would be meaningless. My mother and younger sister would end up with it. The thought irritated me, but what could I do? I was disgruntled by the fact that I couldn’t figure out something so simple. Dragon looked at me and laughed derisively.

  “Do you believe what that asshole tells you? Zhang’s a liar, you know. No one here trusts a thing he says.”

  “Everyone lies.”

  “But nothing that loser say