Thirteen to fourteen

by Ryunosuke Akutagawa

We rushed to Tock's house. Tock was lying on his back among the potted alpine plants, gripping a pistol in his right hand, blood streaming from his head. Next to him was a female kappa, burying her face in Tock's chest and crying loudly. As I lifted the kappa, to be honest, I wasn't very fond of touching the slimy skin of the kappa, but I asked, "What happened?"

“I don’t know what happened. I just thought he was writing something, and then suddenly he shot himself in the head with a pistol. Oh, what should I do? qur-r-r-r-r, qur-r-r-r-r” (This is the kappa's crying sound.)

“Tock was selfish, you know.”

Geerl, the president of the glass company, said this to Judge Pep while shaking his head sadly. However, Pep said nothing and lit a roll of tobacco. Then Chuck, who was kneeling and examining Tock's wound, declared to the five of us with a doctor-like attitude. (Actually, it was one person and four creatures.)

“It’s no use anymore. Tock originally had a stomach illness, so he was already prone to depression.”

“You said he was writing something.”

The philosopher Magg muttered as if in defense, picking up a piece of paper from the desk. We all stretched our necks (though I was the only exception) and peered over the broad shoulder of Magg at the paper.

“Now, let us rise and go. To the valley that separates the world of the living.

The rocky clusters tremble, and the mountain waters are clear,

To the valley where the medicinal herbs bloom.”

Magg turned to us and said with a faint smile.

“This is a plagiarism of Goethe's 'Song of Mignon.' In other words, Tock was tired as a poet too.”

At that moment, coincidentally, the person who arrived by car was the musician Kurabak. Kurabak stood at the doorway for a while, watching the scene, but eventually walked over to us and shouted at Maggu.

“Is that Tokku's will?”

“No, it's the poem he was writing last.”

“A poem?”

Maggu quietly handed the manuscript of Tokku's poem to Kurabak, who began to read it eagerly without caring about his surroundings. He hardly responded to Maggu's words.

“What do you think about Tokku's death?”

“Well, standing here, … I don’t know when I will die again. … To the valley that separates the world of the living. …”

“But you were one of Tokku's close friends, weren't you?”

“Close friend? Tokku was always lonely. … To the valley that separates the world of the living, … only Tokku, unfortunately, … the rock pile is frozen …”

“Unfortunately?”

“The mountain water is clear, … you all are happy. … The rock pile is frozen. …”

I felt sympathy for the crying female kappa and gently embraced her, leading her to the long bench in the corner of the room. There was a kappa child, about two or three years old, laughing innocently. I comforted the child kappa in place of the female kappa. Then, before I knew it, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. This was the first and last time I shed tears while living in the land of the kappas.

“However, it is unfortunate for the family that has to deal with such a selfish kappa.”

“After all, they don’t think about what comes next.”

Judge Pep, as usual, replied to the capitalist Geer while lighting a new roll of tobacco. Then, the musician Kurabak raised his voice and startled us. Holding the manuscript tightly, Kurabak called out to no one in particular.

“Got it! A wonderful funeral march can be created.”

Kurabakku, with shining narrow eyes, lightly grasped Maggu's hand and suddenly dashed out the door. Of course, at that moment, many nearby kappa had gathered at Tokku's house's entrance, peering curiously inside. However, Kurabakku pushed past those kappa and gracefully jumped into a car. At the same time, the car roared loudly and quickly disappeared somewhere.

“Hey, hey, you shouldn't peek so much.”

Judge Peppu closed the door of Tokku's house after pushing out a large number of kappa in place of the police officer. Perhaps because of that, the room suddenly became quiet. In this silence—mixed with the scent of Tokku's blood and the fragrance of alpine flowers—we discussed the cleanup. However, only the philosopher Maggu continued to stare at Tokku's corpse, lost in thought. I tapped Maggu on the shoulder and asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“About the life of kappa.”

“What will happen to the life of kappa?”

“We kappa, after all, to lead a proper kappa life...”

Maggu continued in a slightly embarrassed whisper.

“In any case, it is to believe in the power of someone other than us kappa.”

This statement from Maggu reminded me of what religion is. Of course, since I am a materialist, I had never seriously considered religion, but at that moment, moved by Tokku's death, I began to think about what kappa's religion might be. I immediately asked the student Rappu about this issue.

“That includes Christianity, Buddhism, Mohammedanism, Zoroastrianism, and so on. The most powerful one, without a doubt, is what we call Modernism. It is also referred to as the Religion of Life.” (The translation “Religion of Life” may not be accurate. The original term is Quemoocha. The “cha” corresponds to the English suffix “ism.” The root form of quemoo, quemal, translates to something more than just “to live”; it implies “to eat, to drink, to engage in intercourse.”)

“So, there are churches and temples in this country as well?”

“You shouldn’t speak casually. The grand temple of Modernism is the largest architecture in this country. How about it, shall we go take a look?”

On a warm, cloudy afternoon, Rap proudly led me to this grand temple. Indeed, it was a magnificent building ten times larger than Nikolai Cathedral. Its form, combining various architectural styles, looked like countless tentacles stretching toward the heavens. We stood in front of the entrance, and (compared to that entrance, how small we must have looked!) we gazed up at the enormous temple for a while.

The interior of the temple was also vast. Worshippers walked among the rows of Corinthian columns, and they appeared just as small as we did. At that moment, we encountered a bent-over kappa. Rap bowed to the kappa and spoke politely to it.

“Elder, it’s good to see you well.”

The kappa returned the bow and responded politely.

“Is this Mr. Rap? You still seem to be, uh—(the pause in speech was likely due to noticing that Rap's beak was rotting.)—ah, anyway, you look well. What brings you here today...?”

“Today, I have been accompanying this person. As you probably know, this person—”

Rap began to talk about me in a flow. It seemed that this was also an excuse for why he rarely came to the great temple.

“Therefore, I would like to ask for your guidance for this person.”

The elder smiled, first greeting me, and quietly pointed to the altar in front.

“Although I say guidance, there is nothing I can assist you with. We, the believers, worship at the 'Tree of Life' on the front altar. As you can see, golden and green fruits are bearing. The golden fruit is called 'Fruit of Good', and the green fruit is called 'Fruit of Evil'...”

As I listened to the elder's explanation, I began to feel bored. Even the elder's words seemed like an old metaphor. While pretending to listen intently, I did not forget to occasionally glance at the interior of the great temple.

Corinthian columns, Gothic domes, Arabian checkered floors, Secessionist prayer desks— the harmony they created gave a strangely barbaric beauty. However, what caught my eye the most were the marble half-figures in the niches on both sides. I felt like I had seen them somewhere before. It was not surprising. That hunchbacked kappa finished explaining the 'Tree of Life' and then walked over to the right niche with me and Rap, starting to explain the half-figure inside.

“This is one of our saints, — Saint Strindberg, who rebelled against everything. It is said that this saint was saved through the philosophy of Swedenborg after going through much suffering. However, in reality, he was not saved. This saint believed in the doctrine of life like us. — Or rather, he probably had no choice but to believe. Please read the book 'Legend' left by this saint. This saint also confesses that he was a suicide attempt survivor.”

I felt a bit melancholic and looked towards the next niche. The half-length statue in the next niche was of a stout German with a mustache.

"This is the poet Nietzsche from Zarathustra. That saint sought salvation from the superman he created, but ultimately, he was not saved and became insane. If he had not gone insane, he might have been able to join the ranks of the saints. …"

The elder fell silent for a moment and then guided us to the front of the third niche.

"The third one is Tolstoy. This saint underwent more asceticism than anyone else. Originally a noble, he disliked showing suffering to the curious public. This saint tried to believe in the unbelievable Christ. In fact, there were times he publicly declared his belief. However, in his later years, he could no longer endure his tragic state. It is also famous that this saint sometimes felt fear in the beams of his study. But since he is among the saints, of course, he did not commit suicide."

In the fourth niche, there was a half-length statue of one of us Japanese. When I saw that face, I felt a sense of nostalgia.

"This is Kunikida Doppo. He was a poet who clearly understood the heart of those who die in accidents. However, any further explanation is unnecessary for you. Now, please look at the fifth niche. —"

"Isn't this Wagner?"

"Yes, he was a revolutionary who was a friend of the king. Saint Wagner even prayed before meals in his later years. However, he was certainly one of the followers of the religion of life rather than Christianity. According to the letters left by Wagner, the sufferings of the world must have driven this saint to the brink of death many times."

At that time, we were standing in front of the sixth niche.

"This is a friend of Saint Strintberri. He is a French painter who married a girl from Quiti, around thirteen or fourteen, in place of his wife who has many children, having come from a merchant background. This saint had sailor's blood flowing through his thick veins. But look at his lips. There are traces of arsenic or something. What is in the seventh grotto... You must be tired. Now, please come this way."

I was really tired, so I followed the elder with Rap, proceeding down the corridor filled with the scent of incense and entered a small room. In the corner of the room, I noticed a bunch of wild grapes offered under a black Venus statue. It was a somewhat surprising sight for me, who had imagined a monk's cell with no decorations. Then, sensing my feelings from my expression, the elder began to explain, half apologetically, before offering me a chair.

"Please do not forget the teachings of our religion. Our God, the teaching of 'The Tree of Life,' is to 'Live vigorously.' ... Mr. Rap, have you shown this person our Bible?"

"No, actually, I have hardly read it myself."

Rap answered honestly while scratching his head. However, the elder continued to speak quietly with a smile.

"Then, you will not understand. Our God created this world in one day. ('The Tree of Life' has nothing that cannot be accomplished.) Furthermore, he also created female kappa. Then, the female kappa, feeling utterly bored, sought a male kappa. Our God, pitying her lament, took the brain of the female kappa and created a male kappa. And our God blessed these two kappas with the command, 'Eat, mate, and live vigorously.' ..."

Listening to the elder's words, I remembered the poet Tock. Unfortunately, Tock was an atheist like me. Since I am not a kappa, it was understandable that I did not know about the teachings of the Life Doctrine. However, Tock, born in the land of kappas, must have known about the "Tree of Life." I pitied Tock for not following this teaching and began to speak of him, interrupting the elder's words.

“Ah, that poor poet.”

The elder listened to my story and let out a deep sigh.

“What determines our fate are only faith, circumstances, and chance. (Of course, you might add heredity to that.) Unfortunately, Mr. Tock did not have faith.”

“Tock must have envied you. No, I envy you too. Young people like Rap-kun are still so…”

“If I had just a proper beak, perhaps I could have been more optimistic.”

The elder said this to us and took another deep breath. His eyes, filled with tears, were fixed on the black Venus.

“Actually, — this is my secret, so please do not tell anyone. — I too cannot believe in our god. However, someday my prayers—”

At that moment, the door to the room suddenly opened, and a large female kappa leaped at the elder. We tried to catch the female kappa, but she instantly threw the elder to the floor.

“You old man! You’ve stolen money from my wallet again today!”

After about ten minutes, we left the elder couple behind, barely escaping, and went down the entrance of the great temple.

“With that, that elder probably does not believe in the 'Tree of Life' either.”

After walking in silence for a while, Rap said that. However, instead of responding, I couldn't help but look back at the large temple. The large temple stretched its tall towers and domes like countless tentacles under the heavy cloudy sky. It seemed to exude the eerie quality of a mirage visible in the desert sky.