Reiko Page 2

  I’d come across the incident while doing some online research about my subject. A female student from the local high school went missing and was presumed dead. Within the space of a month four more of her classmates died in separate incidents. In each of these cases, the body was recovered, but the circumstances never explained. Only the body of the original student was never found.

  A local vagrant was charged with the murder of the first student after a bloodstained item of her clothing was found in his possession. He was sentenced to death and later executed, but with no obvious motive, many commentators suggested he was a scapegoat. In addition, he could not be connected to the subsequent deaths.

  I could understand Charlie’s interest in this unsolved mystery. It made for fascinating reading. I wanted to find out more about it, even if I would be going to Izumi for more serious research.

  ‘Go to Izumi if you must. If you have to go, best do it now. But I guarantee you’ll come back disappointed.’

  I nodded. Besides the research aspect, I figured it would also be a chance to see a part of Japan few visitors got to see.

  Professor Atami looked at his watch, as though anxious to end the meeting. ‘I’ve arranged for Josh to come. He’s another of my foreign students. He’s meant to be doing a thesis on ancient Japanese history, but I think he’s more interested in studying the nightlife of Osaka. I thought he could show you round.’

  I thanked him for this gesture. I realized he didn’t approve of the proposed Izumi trip, but I could understand him being sensitive after what had happened with Charlie.

  As he got up from his desk to show me to the door he asked if I had any more questions.

  ‘You were saying before about Japanese yurei, about how they’re different to Western ghosts...’

  He smiled. ‘Ah yes, yurei. Traditionally, yurei are spirits of the dead, who remain on earth. This is a very Buddhist concept. You see, when a person dies they need some time to repose themselves. They need peace so that they have the spiritual calm to attain Buddhahood. But if a person dies unexpectedly or violently, they do not have that calm. They will feel only confusion and hatred in their last moments. And they are forced to wander the earth as spirits, trying to fulfil some purpose and find the spiritual calm necessary to achieve Nirvana.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound so different to our ghosts in the West. They usually have some kind of issue with the living.’

  Professor Atami considered this and nodded his head slowly. ‘You may be right. That is exactly what Charlie used to tell me. But over the years the popular image of the ghost in Japan has become very narrow and, as you said, culture-specific. They are almost always young and female with long hair. They appear in the dead of night between the hours of two and three. But in this particular point they are true to the definition of yurei. They have only one purpose here on earth. Revenge.’

  4. JOSH

  ‘Japan is fucking amazing. I love it here.’

  I was sitting with Josh on a bench at the far end of the gravel pitch, looking across at the dormitory and the green hills beyond. He gestured towards the Tower with a broad sweep of the arm.

  ‘This is home. This is where I want to be and I don’t ever want to leave.’

  At six foot one I was considered tall, but Josh was a six foot five American Football playing giant of a man. He would have turned heads on an English street, but in Japan he appeared almost superhuman and the fact wasn’t lost on him.

  ‘I’d never been special until I came here. Never been anyone. Here, I feel like a rock star.’

  ‘Sounds like you have the perfect lifestyle.’

  Josh laughed. ‘Oh, you have no idea. I never knew what a lifestyle was until I came here. Look around you. Look at the sky.’

  We tilted our heads back to look at the clear blue sky. Just forty-eight hours earlier I had left London shrouded in grey cloud and light drizzle. Now here I was on the other side of the world in short sleeves, feeling a warm tropical breeze on my skin.

  ‘And the girls!’

  Josh switched his attention from the sky to a couple of passing Japanese girls, impeccably groomed, with long raven-black hair. One of them caught us looking in her direction and smiled. Josh beamed with satisfaction and waved flirtatiously.

  ‘God, they’re beautiful,’ he said, his eyes following them. ‘There’s no woman on this earth more exquisite than the Japanese female. That’s a fact.’

  ‘You have a girlfriend?’

  Josh gave me a mischievous look. ‘Don’t go there. Don’t get me started on that.’

  We sat in silence for a while, basking in the sun, and I felt my body start to relax. I was still dazed and jet-lagged, but Josh was mellow and made for easy company.

  ‘I’m going in. You coming?’ Josh got to his feet and stretched his arms.

  I got up and we began to walk slowly round the edge of the pitch.

  ‘So you’re studying Japanese ghosts or something? Atami told me about it.’

  ‘More like perceptions of supernatural phenomena in the Buddhist tradition. But, yeah, basically ghosts.’

  ‘You interested in that kind of thing?’

  I shrugged. I knew I’d have to face a lot of questions like this and I needed a stock response. It didn’t have to be true, but I needed something to say.

  Josh sensed my hesitation. ‘To be honest, I didn’t come here for the academic stuff. I wanted to live in Japan and this was the easiest route for me. Half the time, I can’t even remember what I’m studying.’

  It was nice that Josh was on my wavelength. ‘Yeah, it’s the same for me. I just did whatever I could get the funding for. Turned out to be ghosts, which is fine.’

  Josh also seemed pleased to have found a partner in crime. ‘Don’t worry. Atami doesn’t care. We just get assigned to him. Considering the last guy doing your thing killed himself, I don’t think he’s going to be too harsh on you.’

  ‘You know about that?’

  ‘Everyone knows about that. I guess it’s a cautionary tale. I even know where his room was.’

  We had rounded the corner of the pitch and were on the approach to the Tower. Josh pointed up. ‘Third floor down, second window from the right.’

  I stopped in my tracks as I realized it was my floor. A sudden fear gripped me, but counting across, it was clear it couldn’t possibly be my room. I might be carrying the dead guy’s file in my bag, but I didn’t want to be sleeping in his bed.

  Josh continued, warming to the subject. ‘Actually, this place is a popular suicide spot, probably the number one suicide spot in the area. It’s a tall building, you have easy access to the roof and panoramic views for your last look at the world.’

  ‘People have jumped, then?’

  ‘Regularly. Usually one a year, sometimes two. It’s a problem. There was one just after I arrived. Some guy stepped off the roof while we were having lunch in the canteen. We all heard it and went over to the window and there he was.’ Josh stopped in front of the building and pointed to a spot near the entrance. ‘I never saw anything like that before. The twisted body, the blood, people screaming.’

  ‘Who was he? A student?’

  Josh nodded. ‘They say it happens a lot in Japan. Social pressure, academic pressure, that kind of thing. But it’s even worse here. This university specializes in foreign languages and the kind of Japanese people attracted to foreign things are often the social misfits. I’ve heard this from a lot of people. They don’t fit in, so they’re looking for escape. But the sense of national identity is so strong that there is no escape. It’s what I’ve heard, anyway.’

  ‘That’s pretty horrible.’

  Josh caught my expression and laughed. ‘Hey, lighten up. It’s something that happens, is all. You try to make light of it. If you didn’t laugh about it, you’d cry. Now every time we hear a thud, we say “hey, there goes another one”. It’s our way of dealing with it.’

  We parted company outside the lifts with an arrangement to go i
nto Osaka later that night, and I returned to my room feeling tired and disjointed. The afternoon was drawing on and my jet-lag was kicking in. It had been nice sitting outside with Josh, but the conversation about suicides had left me depressed. Given the nature of my thesis, I couldn’t avoid people telling me grim stories, but it was just a bit too much too soon. Not only was I carrying around a dead man’s research notes, but I was also living in the university’s most desirable suicide location.

  I took Charlie’s file out of my bag and laid it on the desk. I debated whether or not to take a peek, but somehow it didn’t seem right. With a heavy sigh, I opened a drawer and shoved it in. I didn’t want it looking at me. Stepping over my suitcase, still only half-unpacked, I lay down on the bed for a rest.

  I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

  5. OSAKA BY NIGHT

  I woke from a dreamless sleep to the sound of knocking at the door.

  ‘James. Are you there?’

  The evening had drawn in and the room was deep in shadow. I sat up and peered through the gloom, trying to get my bearings.

  ‘Just a minute,’ I called. I realized I must have missed my rendezvous with Josh in the foyer.

  His voice rang out in the corridor. ‘Sorry to wake you. I’ll be waiting downstairs, okay.’

  I struggled to my feet and groped for the light switch. Stooping in front of the basin to splash my face, I was shocked to see my reflection. I looked pale and haggard and in need of sleep. But Josh had offered to take me out on the town and it was too late to back down. I took a deep breath and resolved to make the most of it.

  We caught a bus from the campus gates, which took us on a meandering tour through the same peaceful suburbs I had seen on my way in. By the light of the street lamps it was different: quieter and eerier. We passed elegant houses, with topiarized hedges, miniature stone pagodas and dense clusters of bamboo in inner courtyards. I watched in silence as the suburbs gave way to the city and the Zen tranquility became a blast of noise and neon. Of course, I had seen images of Asian cityscapes, but the reality was so much more vibrant and breathtaking in the flesh. Everything pulsed with life and light and energy. This was the Japan I had come to see, burning itself on to the retina like the beating heart of the world.

  We got off the bus and travelled a few stops by metro to Namba, the heart of nightlife in Osaka. The place was bustling with the youth of Japan, sporting an astonishing array of weird and wonderful fashions. Every street was nothing less than a public catwalk. The girls, heavily spray-tanned, wearing thigh-length boots or platform shoes and blonde highlights, stood around in groups. The young men wore grungy T-shirts and peered moodily from underneath floppy hats. I walked with a sense of shame, hopelessly underdressed in a pair of bland beige chinos and white polo shirt.

  Josh was in search of his favourite kaiten-zushi, which he translated as ‘revolving sushi’. We turned down a busy street of bars and restaurants, where a sea of neon signs jostled for attention. We passed a giant, mechanical crab with moving claws suspended over a restaurant, and a cheery street vendor hawking yakitori chicken skewers. With a cry of recognition, Josh darted down a few steps to a well-concealed door and I stepped into the revolving sushi bar.

  We were greeted by the shrill welcoming cries of irasshaimase, which I’d read was the standard welcome on arriving in any shop or restaurant. The room was the size of a large garden shed, with a circular counter and high stools on each side. A number of diners were packed in, elbow to elbow, picking plates off the conveyor belt that wound its way round the perimeter. The chefs stood in the centre, decked out in white overalls and fetching bandanas inscribed with mottos, moulding the rice and raw sashimi fish into bite-size pieces. As we squeezed into our stools, Josh looked particularly over-sized in the confined space.

  ‘What do you think of this stuff, then?’

  I had little experience of sushi, but I was determined to give it a go. ‘It’s all in the name of adventure.’

  As the conveyor belt made its tour of the counter, I watched some of the other customers whipping plates from the belt as they passed. In the middle, the sushi chefs worked tirelessly with deft hands to keep the production line going.

  Josh chose his first plate, which I recognized as octopus. ‘I love it here. Sushi purists hate these places, the whole conveyor belt thing. They say it’s fast-food sushi, but you know what, I can’t tell the difference.’

  I spotted a cooked prawn laid flat on a wedge of rice and plumped for that to start with. ‘You’re going to have to help me out here. I don’t know what half the stuff here is.’

  Josh laughed. ‘Don’t ask me. I don’t know what the hell I’m eating most of the time. I know this is octopus and I reckon that’s a prawn you’ve got there. Beyond that, I’m just eating blind. There’s a lot of weird shit in Japan. You should see the lunchboxes, some of the shit they put in those. You don’t know if it’s animal or vegetable or what the fuck it is. Kind of like a culinary version of Russian roulette.’

  ‘Japanese roulette.’

  We laughed raucously and I felt the colour return to my cheeks, glad Josh had dragged me out. We ordered some beer and tucked into our sushi. The place was hotting up and the turnover of both clientele and dishes on the conveyor belt was fast and furious. Some customers came in, wolfed down two or three plates, paid up and were gone within minutes. A few, like Josh and I, were there for the long haul. Josh boasted that he had once got through twenty plates at a single sitting, so I challenged him to go one better. For my part I was starting to enjoy the thrill of adventure through the medium of sushi. Having done the boring stuff, I became ambitious, getting on to raw tuna, then to sea bream and squid, and on to alarmingly orange cod’s roe and some foul-tasting sea-urchin. Josh egged me on to twelve dishes before I threw in the towel, while he finally laid down his chopsticks at a paltry eighteen, mumbling something about stomach cramps.

  Just as we were paying up he turned to me, his tone serious. ‘Listen, I’m sorry about before. I shouldn’t have told you all that stuff about suicide. I wasn’t thinking.’

  I was surprised he’d even remembered. ‘That’s okay. Hey, I’m studying the undead. It’s my business to know these things.’

  ‘I know. But you’ve just arrived and you don’t need to know all that. I’m sorry.’

  It was good to get out into the fresh air again. The beer had gone straight to my head and I was experiencing a pleasing buzz. This was exactly how I’d hoped it would be – a long way from home, stumbling around pleasantly tipsy in a strange, exotic city.

  Josh was eager to introduce me to his social network and had arranged to meet a couple of Japanese students from the university. We set off, weaving our way through the busy main streets, before turning into a quiet alley where the harsh neon gave way to traditional lanterns hung over wooden sliding doors. Once again Josh led me down a set of steps to an inconspicuous door of a bar, fittingly called ‘The Underground’.

  There couldn’t have been a starker contrast to the harsh light of the sushi bar. With wooden beams and candlelight, comatose clientele and funereal jazz music, it acted as an instant mood dampener. Not only that, but I felt my hair brush the low beams as I entered and realized Josh was stooping for good reason.

  His friends were sat at the far end of the room with a half-drunk bottle of red wine in front of them. They stood up on our arrival and we exchanged enthusiastic greetings and introductions. Shinichi was a floppy-haired student with an interest in French symbolist poets. He told me in confident English that he was majoring in French and idolized Baudelaire. His girlfriend, Etsuko, had red streaks in her hair and was a student of Swahili. Her dream, she said, was to live in Africa.

  Introductions over, we settled down and ordered another bottle of wine.

  ‘How do you like Japan?’ Etsuko asked. Like Shinichi her English was accomplished.

  ‘I like it. I’m still jet-lagged, so it’s all a bit confusing, but I like it.’

&
nbsp; ‘What are you studying?’ asked Shinichi, filling my glass in the Japanese custom.

  I paused, still reticent about my thesis.

  Josh decided to help me out. ‘He’s studying Japanese ghosts.’

  Not unreasonably, they both looked at me blankly.

  ‘Actually, it’s more like looking at cultural differences, but in the context of supernatural phenomena,’ I added.

  They still looked blank and again Josh waded in to help things along. ‘This guy’s going halfway across Japan to see some haunted village. What’s it called?’

  ‘Izumi.’

  This time they reacted with surprise. Shinichi leant forward. ‘Izumi? In Fukushima Prefecture?’

  I nodded. ‘You’ve heard of it?’

  Shinichi looked at Etsuko and they had a brief exchange in Japanese. Etsuko screwed her face up, as though she’d just been told something unpleasant.

  ‘Izumi is a very famous village,’ Shinichi said. ‘But why do you want to go there?’

  I could see I was facing another inquisition, but I was interested to hear what people thought of the place. I couldn’t think of anywhere in England with a similar reputation and I said as much to Shinichi.

  Etsuko cleared her throat. ‘In the past someone from this university went there. Another foreign student. He hung himself.’ She emphasized this by fastening her hands around her neck.

  ‘I know.’ It seemed that Charlie really had gained immortality by his ill-fated trip to Izumi. I wished I could disassociate myself from him, because I was starting to feel like his shadow.

  Shinichi and Etsuko had seemed disturbed by the mere mention of Izumi, but I decided to persevere. I picked the bottle up and poured them a glass of wine to egg them on.

  ‘I’m interested to hear what Japanese people think of Izumi and about ghosts in general. I want to know how it fits in with the culture. It’s part of my research to find out these things.’