Dogra Magra (31/47)

by Hisashi Yumeno

"What? What did Nana say? Tremble... She already knows the true culprit of this case...?"

I couldn't help but exclaim in surprise. No matter how great a detective she is, it's troubling how quickly her mind works. First and foremost, it would put Wakabayashi and me in a difficult position.

"Now, now, don't rush, just wait. Even if the person you're targeting is the true culprit of this case, and the virtual phantom Wakabayashi-kun mentioned, that's still just speculation. There's no concrete evidence, you see. And even if there were solid evidence, and you knew where the culprit was and what they were doing, what would you do if you caught them and discovered astonishing new facts? Heheheheheh..."

That's why I'm telling you, it's absolutely dangerous to judge such a serious and inexplicable case based on a little evidence or conceptual reasoning. At the very least, unless we thoroughly examine how this incident occurred, how it slipped into my hands, and how I've observed and researched it, we won't be able to determine the presence or absence of a culprit. "So that's how it was... Hmm," you'd be dazed... So, first, let me say that... Now, I will continue to explain how my research into this case progressed afterward.

By the way, if a rural benshi like me, and a novice at that, were to omit "gozaimasu" from my film narration, it would simply sound like a reading of a script written by an amateur. Unfortunately, I have never written a script or cooked Chinese food, so I don't quite understand the situation, but there's still time until dawn, so I'll try to tackle one of those scripts now. However, I must reiterate here that postponing the core of the incident, the content of psychological heredity, and proceeding from external facts to the internal details in order is not a pun on "chanpon" (mixed dish). All my records regarding this incident are arranged in parallel according to the plot as the incident itself appeared before my eyes at the time, so merely studying this order will reveal almost the entire truth of the incident... In this regard, I believe it is an extremely scientific, absolutely truthful, and unashamed record of the truth... I suppose... Oh dear.

【Subtitle】 Ichiro Kure's Psychiatric Evaluation = May 3, Taisho 15 (1926), 9:00 AM, at the Fukuoka District Court reception room.

【Film】 Dr. Masaki, dressed like a village headman in a yokan-colored crested haori, a single-layer serge kimono, serge hakama, and well-worn white tabi socks, sat leisurely in a chair by the window opposite the entrance, puffing on a cigar.

On the round table in the center lay an old Western umbrella, presumably belonging to Dr. Masaki, and the "Kozan Koka" (Ancient Mountain High) thrown carelessly. Beside it, Dr. Wakabayashi, in a frock coat, stood introducing a stern-looking police inspector in uniform and an elegant gentleman dressed entirely in serge to Dr. Masaki.

"Inspector Otsuka... Judge Suzuki... both have been involved in this case from the beginning..."

Dr. Masaki stood up, accepted their business cards, and bowed casually.

"I am Masaki, who has come at your summons. Unfortunately, I don't have a business card..."

The inspector and the preliminary examination judge returned the bow with even greater formality.

At that moment, Wu Yilang, clad only in a single unlined dark blue kasuri kimono against his bare skin, was led in by two court officers with a rope around his waist. The three gentlemen parted to the left and right, standing before Dr. Masaki.

Wu Yilang stopped in his tracks and surveyed the room with dark, melancholic eyes. His white arms and neck bore several scratches and bruises from being forcibly restrained, which seemed to accentuate his extraordinarily handsome appearance in a strangely peculiar way. From behind him, the two court officers saluted in unison.

Dr. Masaki returned the nod, and after exhaling a long stream of cigar smoke, he casually pulled Wu Yilang's handcuffed hands closer, bringing their faces about a foot apart and aligning their eyes perfectly. He peered into the depths of those eyes, as if to imply something... or perhaps to push back Wu Yilang's gaze with his own, forcing it into the depths of his pupils... Thus, the two remained motionless for a while, their eyes locked.

Gradually, Dr. Masaki's expression grew somewhat tense. The expressions of the gentlemen present also became tense in response.

However, among them, only Dr. Wakabayashi did not bat an eyelid, his pale eyes coolly downcast, as he gazed intently at Dr. Masaki's profile. It was as if he was secretly searching for something within Dr. Masaki's expression...

But Wu Yilang remained composed. With the clear gaze peculiar to someone who had lost their sanity, he effortlessly shifted his gaze from Dr. Masaki's face and slowly looked up from bottom to top at Dr. Wakabayashi's tall frock coat, who was standing right beside him.

Dr. Masaki's expression softened visibly. He smiled as he looked at Wu Yilang's profile, took a puff from his dying cigar, and spoke in a casual tone.

"Do you know that old man, you...?"

Wu Yilang, still looking up at Dr. Wakabayashi's pale, long face, nodded slightly, his eyes becoming dreamlike. Seeing this, Dr. Masaki's smile deepened. At that moment, Wu Yilang's lips twitched.

"...I know. He's my father."

...And... No sooner had those words left his lips than Dr. Wakabayashi's expression underwent an astonishing change. His already pale face lost all color before their eyes, and two blue veins bulged in the middle of his forehead, which had lost its luster like white powder. His countenance transformed into an expression that defied description, somewhere between fury and shock, and he turned to Dr. Masaki, his temples trembling. His eyes were so fierce they looked as if they were about to bite.

However, Dr. Masaki, as if oblivious to all this, burst into loud laughter, heedless of his surroundings.

"Hah hah hah hah. Your father, that's good. ...Well then, do you know who this old man is?"

Saying this, he pointed to his own nose.

Wu Ichiro stared intently at Dr. Masaki's face with a serious gaze, but after a while, his lips twitched.

"...Father... is..."

"Ah hah hah hah hah hah hah hah!"

Dr. Masaki laughed even more merrily, finally letting go of Wu Ichiro's hand and collapsing in uncontrollable laughter.

"Ah hah hah hah hah. I'm truly surprised. So you have two fathers, then."

Wu Ichiro hesitated without thinking, but then nodded silently. Dr. Masaki laughed even harder, clutching his stomach.

"Wah hah hah hah. That's wonderful. Unprecedented. ...So, do you remember the names of those two fathers?"

When Dr. Masaki said that half-jokingly, the faces of the people in the group, who had been bewildered and confused until then, instantly showed tension.

However, when Wu Ichiro received this question, his expression suddenly darkened. He quietly averted his gaze, seemingly absorbed in watching the clear May sky outside the window, but then, as if remembering something, tears welled up in his large eyes. Seeing this, Dr. Masaki took Wu Ichiro's hand again and slowly exhaled a puff of cigar smoke.

“No, it’s fine now. You don’t have to force yourself to remember your father’s name. Whichever one you remember first, it would be terribly unfair. Hahahahahahaha.”

The people who had been gripped by an unusual tension all burst out laughing at once. Dr. Wakabayashi, who had finally regained his original expression, also let out a strange, almost tearful, stiff laugh.

Wu Yichirō, who had been observing their laughing faces with an inexplicably cautious gaze, eventually sighed as if disappointed, lowered his eyes, and shed tears. The drops of tears fell onto the dirty floor over his handcuffs.

Still holding his hand, Dr. Masaki casually looked around at the faces of the people.

"At any rate, I would like to take charge of this patient, if that's alright. I believe there must be some memory related to the truth of the incident remaining in this patient's mind. As you just heard, the fact that everyone's face looks like his father's face might be an important psychological manifestation that hints at the hidden truth of this incident... If possible, I would like to use my abilities to help this boy recover and extract the memories related to the truth of the incident. What do you think...?"

[Subtitle] The first day Wu Yichirō appeared at the Liberation Sanatorium (photographed July 7, Taishō 15)

[Film] The deep green leaves of five or six paulownia trees standing in the middle of the Liberation Sanatorium fluttered and shimmered in the midsummer light.

From the east entrance, eight madmen entered one after another in a procession. Some looked around curiously, but soon each began to display various forms of madness.

Wu Yichirō entered last of all.

With a melancholic and lonely expression, he stared blankly at the brick walls on all sides and the sand at his feet for a while. Then, he suddenly seemed to find something in the sand at his feet, and his eyes suddenly sparkled as he picked it up, rolled it between his hands, and held it up to the dazzling sun.

It was a beautiful, blue ramune marble.

Go Ichi-ro smiled, facing the sun, and rolled the sphere into his black heko-obi, but then quickly lifted his hem, bent forward, and began digging into the hot sand with both hands.

Dr. Masaki, who had been standing at the entrance watching him, ordered the janitor to bring a hoe and gave it to Go Ichi-ro.

Go Ichi-ro happily bowed, accepted the hoe, and began digging into the glittering sand with several times more enthusiasm than before. As he did so, the wet sand was exposed to the sunlight and dried white from one end.

Dr. Masaki, who had been intently watching his actions, eventually grinned, nodded, and then quickly walked away towards the entrance.

[Subtitle] Go Ichi-ro at the Liberation Treatment Center approximately two months later (photographed September 10th of the same year)

[Film] In the center of the Liberation Treatment Center, the paulownia leaves show some withered spots. On the flat ground surrounding it, there are scattered, overlapping areas where the sand has been dug up, black like graves.

Standing in a corner of the sandy flat ground between these holes, Go Ichi-ro leaned on his hoe like a staff, straightened his back, and let out a painful sigh. His face was burnt black by the autumn sun, and he seemed utterly exhausted from days of labor, having become noticeably thinner, with only his eyes gleaming intensely. Sweat flowed incessantly, and his gasping breaths were like flames... In particular, the blade of the hoe he leaned on, worn thin and wavy as if to tell of the frantic intensity of the past tens of days of sand-digging, shone like silver, a sight that was truly that of a tormented soul fallen into a scorching hell while still alive.

Go Ichi-ro soon gripped the hoe again with his blackened arms, as if being chased by something. He struck it into a new flat area of quartz sand, digging another hole, but when he unearthed a large fish vertebra, he suddenly regained his energy and continued swinging the hoe with twice the vigor as before.

A female student, obsessed with dancing, fell into one of the large holes behind Go Ichiro, screaming as she flailed her legs in the air. The other patients clapped and cheered.

Go Ichiro, without looking back, continued to dig diligently. It seemed he had unearthed something invisible, which he repeatedly twisted between his fingers, but he soon picked up his hoe again, his eyes gleaming like fire, and with gritted white teeth and a desperate expression, he began to dig furiously at his feet.

From behind him, Dr. Masaki approached leisurely. His pince-nez glinting, he watched Go Ichiro's work for a while, then walked closer and lightly tapped Go Ichiro's right shoulder, which was raised as he swung the hoe.

Go Ichiro, startled, lowered his hoe and, wiping the sweat from his face, looked back at Dr. Masaki in a daze.

Seizing the opportunity, Dr. Masaki quickly plunged one hand into Go Ichiro's pocket, pulled out a round object wrapped in a dirty handkerchief and the fish backbone he had just dug up, and immediately hid them behind his back. However, Go Ichiro seemed completely unaware, wiping his sweat as he looked up from the hole. Dr. Masaki looked down at his face and smiled.

"What did you just dig up?"

Go Ichiro blushed awkwardly and pointed his left index finger at the tip of the doctor's nose. When the doctor brought his pince-nez closer, a single strand of woman's hair was tightly wrapped around the tip of that finger.

Dr. Masaki, seemingly understanding what it meant, nodded with a serious expression. Then, he unwrapped the dirty handkerchief he had hidden, placed its contents in the palm of his left hand, and held it out to the tip of Go Ichiro's nose. In his palm, a ramune marble he had picked up two months ago when he entered this treatment facility, the fish bone he had dug up today, a fragment of a red rubber comb, and a broken piece of a glass tube about the size of a pinky finger, all gleamed.

"You dug these out of the dirt, didn't you?"

Wu Il-rang nodded, still out of breath. He compared the doctor's face with the four items...

"Hmm... By the way, what is this? What good is it, this...?"

"That is a jade of Qinglang, a crystal tube, human bones, and a coral comb."

Wu Yilang answered casually without much thought, and soon received the four trinkets and a handkerchief from the doctor's hand, tied them up as hard as a stone, and tucked them deep into his bosom as if they were something precious.

"Hmm... Then why are you digging up the earth so diligently?"

Wu Yilang placed his left hand on the hoe he was about to strike into the earth again, and pointed at his feet with his right hand.

"A woman's corpse is buried around here."

"Hmm. I see. Hmm."

Dr. Masaki grunted, staring intently into Wu Yilang's eyes over his pince-nez, and asked in a stern tone, pushing each word into the other's ear.

"...Hmm... I see... But... when exactly was that woman's corpse buried under the earth...?"

Wu Yilang, still supporting the hoe with both hands, looked up at the doctor's face in surprise. The redness in his cheeks quickly faded, and his lips twitched.

"...When... when... when... when was it..."

he began to repeat in a sleepwalker's tone. He looked around blankly for a while, but then his expression changed to an inexpressibly sad, bewildered look. He dropped the hoe with a thud, lowered his eyes weakly, then slumped his head, crawled out of the hole, and slowly walked away towards the entrance.

Dr. Masaki watched his retreating figure, then crossed his arms and smiled contentedly.

"Indeed, psychological heredity manifests itself without the slightest deviation... However, I must be patient for a little longer. The real spectacle is yet to come..."

Again, on October 19th of the same year, the scene inside the Liberation Treatment Center was shown.

Gisaku, the old man tilling the field, appeared in front of the brick wall within the grounds, which had become a flat sandy area. Gisaku had made about one more furrow than when he first appeared, and the thin girl beside him was also planting withered branches and broken tiles up to half that extent.

Go Ichiro, standing in front of them, was also smiling as he had in the first scene, and with his hands clasped behind his back, he intently watched the old man raise and lower his hoe. However, his skin had become completely white and he had gained a lot of weight in just one month, probably because he had stopped the labor of digging holes during that time and had been confined to his room... Room No. 7.

Dr. Masaki approached from behind, smiling, and when he suddenly placed a hand on Go Ichiro's shoulder, Go Ichiro turned around with a start.

"...How are you... It's been a while since you came out, hasn't it? You've become completely fair-skinned... and you've gained weight too."

"...Yes..."

Go Ichiro continued to smile as usual and began watching the raising and lowering of the hoe again.

"What are you doing here...?"

Dr. Masaki asked, peering into his face. Go Ichiro then quietly replied, keeping his eyes on the hoe.

"...I'm watching that person till the field."

"Hmm. Your consciousness seems to have cleared up quite a bit."

Dr. Masaki said as if to himself, looking up at his profile, and then, with a slightly stronger tone, he said,

"...That's not it, is it? You want to borrow that hoe."

Before these words were finished, Go Ichiro's cheeks suddenly turned pale. He widened his eyes and looked at Dr. Masaki's face, but soon turned back to the hoe and muttered to himself,

"...That's right... That's my hoe."

"Yes. I know that."

Dr. Masaki nodded.

“...That hoe is yours. But since he’s working so diligently, couldn’t you wait a little longer? When the twelve o’clock bell rings, that old man is sure to drop the hoe and go eat... and then he won’t come out again until sunset.”

“Are you sure?”

Wu Yi-rang’s eyes, as he said this and looked back at Dr. Masaki, shone with a hint of anxiety. Dr. Masaki nodded deeply, as if to reassure him.

“Absolutely. ...I’ll buy you another new one soon.”

Ichiro Go watched the movement anxiously, raising and lowering his hoe. After a while, he muttered to himself.

“I want it now...”

“Hmm, why is that... it’s...”

However, Wu Yi-rang did not answer. He closed his mouth tightly and returned his gaze to the hoe’s movements.

Dr. Masaki stared intently at Wu Yi-rang’s profile with a tense expression. He seemed to be trying to find something in that expression.

At that moment, the large shadow of a kite glided silently past the two of them.

――――――――――――――――――――

From the situation so far, it has become clear that deep within Wu Yi-rang’s heart lies a psychogenetic connection to ancient noblewomen, evidenced by the blue-green jade, crystal tubes, and coral combs. It has also become apparent that he is earnestly searching for a female corpse to complete an illustrated scroll modeled after such a woman.

However, when Dr. Masaki asked when the corpse was buried in the ground, Wu Yi-rang was bewildered, unable to find an answer, and returned to his room to ponder. Why was that?

And why, a month later, today, October 19th, in the fifteenth year of Taisho, has he suddenly appeared at this liberation sanatorium, intently waiting for the old man’s hoe to become free?

Meanwhile, a crisis is approaching this sanatorium for the mentally ill. From where, and how, will this crisis arrive...?

For now, only Dr. Wakabayashi, who is investigating this case, and I, his consultant, can unravel this mystery. No, Dr. Masaki in the screen is also there... no, not really... Ah, it's too much trouble, I'll just do it myself. And while I'm at it, I'll stop the moving pictures too. Furthermore, I'll return to Dr. Masaki, who is alone in the professor's office of Kyushu University's Department of Psychiatry late at night, writing his will.

Perhaps I'm joking a bit too much, but it's a will I'm writing to pass the time before I die anyway. It doesn't matter how much the whiskey affects me. After this, let nature take its course... Shall I have another smoke here?

...Ah, how delightful. On the eve of my suicide, I write my will with the feeling of laughing off everything in the universe. When I get tired of writing, I sit in my swivel chair in my slippers, hugging my knees, and puff out ultramarine and gamboge-colored smoke. Then, like morning clouds or evening clouds, the smoke swirls up towards the ceiling, and when it reaches a certain height, it slowly spreads out like oil on the surface of water. It connects and unravels like a spirit, sadly and joyfully, fading and disappearing while drawing various non-geometric curves.

My figure, like a small skeleton, vaguely looking up at that scene from a large swivel chair, is just like a wizard from Arabian Nights... Ah, I'm sleepy. The whiskey seems to be taking effect. Mumble mumble mumble... Outside the window, it's full of stars. ...Um... What was it again... One star... "Find one star, and Dr. ends his life"... Haha... Not very auspicious... Mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble............... Mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble............................................................ Mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble ........................................................................................................................................................................