Seventeen

by Ryunosuke Akutagawa

After returning from the land of the kappa, I couldn't stand the smell of human skin for a while. Compared to the kappa, we humans are truly filthy beings. Especially for someone like me, who had only been looking at kappa, human heads felt very creepy. You might not understand, but aside from the eyes and mouth, this nose gives an oddly terrifying impression. So, I tried to avoid meeting anyone as much as possible. However, gradually I seemed to get used to humans, and after about six months, I started going out anywhere. The only problem was that while talking, I would sometimes accidentally slip and use the language of the kappa.

“Are you going to be home tomorrow?”

“Qua”

“What did you say?”

“No, I mean yes.”

It was generally like this.

However, just about a year after returning from the land of the kappa, a failure in a certain project triggered... (At that time, Dr. S warned, “Let’s not talk about that.” According to him, every time such stories are told, they become so unruly that the nurses cannot handle them.)

Putting that story aside, the failure of the project made me remember wanting to return to the land of the kappa. It wasn't that I wanted to go; I felt that I wanted to go back. The land of the kappa felt like home to me at that time.

I quietly slipped out of the house and tried to catch the Chuo Line train. However, I was unfortunate enough to be caught by a police officer and ended up being admitted to the hospital. Even while I was in the hospital, I kept thinking about the land of the kappa. I wonder how Doctor Chuck is doing? Philosopher Magg might still be pondering something under the rainbow-colored glass lantern. In particular, I was reminded of my dear friend, the beak-rotted student Rap. On such a cloudy afternoon, as I indulged in such memories, before I knew it, a kappa fisherman named Bag was standing in front of me, bowing his head repeatedly. After calming my heart, I almost cried out. I don't remember if I cried or laughed, but it was certainly moving to use the language of the kappa after such a long time.

"Hey, Bag, why did you come?"

"Hey, I came to visit. I heard you were sick."

"How did you know that?"

"I found out from the radio news."

Bag was smiling proudly.

"Still, I'm glad you came."

"Oh, it's nothing. The rivers and moats in Tokyo are just as accessible for kappa."

It suddenly occurred to me that kappa were amphibious creatures like frogs.

"But there are no rivers around here."

"No, I came up this way through the water supply iron pipes. Then I opened a fire hydrant a bit..."

"You opened a fire hydrant?"

"Have you forgotten, sir? That there are mechanics among kappa too."

Then I received various visits from kappa every two or three days. According to Dr. S, my illness is what he calls early-onset dementia. However, Doctor Chuck (this might be rude to you as well) said that I am not an early-onset dementia patient. Early-onset dementia patients are, starting with Dr. S, you all. Since Doctor Chuck also comes, it was natural for students like Rap and philosopher Mag to visit me. However, during the day, no one came to visit except for Bag. In particular, a few kappa would come together at night, on nights with a moon. Last night as well, in the moonlight, I talked with Geer, the president of the glass company, and philosopher Mag. Furthermore, I had the musician Krabak play a piece on the violin for me. Look, there’s a bouquet of black lilies on the desk over there, right? That was also brought to me as a gift by Krabak last night.

(I looked back, but of course there was no bouquet or anything on the desk.)

This book was also specially brought to me by philosopher Mag. Please read the first poem a little. No, since you probably don’t know the language of the kappa country, I will read it instead. This is one volume from the recently published complete works of Tock.

(He opened an old telephone directory and began to read a poem aloud.)

――In the midst of palm flowers and bamboo

Buddha has long been asleep.

Together with the withered fig by the roadside

Christ seems to have already died.

But we must not rest

Even in front of the backdrop of a play.

(If you look behind that backdrop, is it just a patchwork canvas?)――

However, I am not as cynical as this poet. As long as the kappa come to visit occasionally—ah, I had forgotten about this. Do you remember my friend, Judge Pep? That kappa really went mad after losing his job. I hear he is now in a mental hospital in the land of the kappa. If only Dr. S would allow it, I would like to go visit him...