Dogra Magra (35/47)

by Hisashi Yumeno

Dr. Masaki's words echoed in my mind, and I desperately tried to grasp their meaning. However, the doctor remained unperturbed, continuing to grin.

"I understand your feelings. There's no need to explain. You might find it bothersome to be loved by that girl, but leave it to me. Regardless of whether you like her or not, surrender to fate. And to witness the outcome of that fate, you should ask how your headache and your relationship with that girl are connected... It might seem a bit strange... but as you listen, you'll realize that, even from a legal and moral standpoint, you and that girl stand on a single straight line of destiny. The reason you must marry the moment you leave this hospital will gradually become clear as all the contradictions and mysteries unravel."

As I listened to Dr. Masaki's words, I slumped down again. However, it wasn't a blush-inducing downward gaze. My heart was far from blushing; instead, I desperately closed my eyes and bit my lip again, trying to find a focal point to resolve my current situation from the numerous mysterious facts contained in the doctor's words. I recalled the events since this morning, pondered them, and then re-pondered and deconstructed them.

Dr. Masaki and Dr. Wakabayashi, though appearing to be close friends on the surface, are in fact bitter enemies harboring deep animosity towards each other. The cause of their rift seems to have originated from their research in mental science, using me and Go Ichiro as experimental subjects, and now their struggle has escalated to the point where it is openly conducted in broad daylight in this classroom.

However, the will to forcibly marry me and the girl from Room 6 seems to be strangely consistent between the two of them. If, by any chance, I am Wu Ichiro, or a young man with the same name and age, and that girl is Wu Moyoko, it would be truly strange. In other words, it seems that these two doctors, and no one else, are the ones who, on the eve of our marriage, entangled us both in some psychoscientific criminal scheme, leading us into such a wretched fate. Could such a contradiction possibly exist?

If I were to force an interpretation, it might be that the two doctors, for some academic research purpose, deliberately made a girl and one of a pair of twins, or something similar, into mental patients, even though they were complete strangers, and led them into a carefully crafted illusion, making them genuinely associate with each other... This is not entirely inconceivable, but no matter how you look at it, such a cruel and bizarre academic experiment could not possibly be carried out by human minds and hands.

In the first place, where did these contradictions and incomprehensibilities come from? Why are the two doctors making such a fuss around me? The more I thought about it, the more everything became tangled, and the more I speculated, the more inexplicably intertwined it became. Eventually, I could no longer think or speculate, and I merely closed my eyes, imagining myself frowning and biting my lip.

At that moment, I heard a knock-knock at the door. I flinched, opened my eyes wide, and looked at the entrance door. I thought it might be Dr. Wakabayashi, but Dr. Masaki didn't even glance, and with his chin in his hand, he called out loudly.

“Hey, come in!”

As that voice echoed through the room, the keyhole rattled immediately, and the door opened halfway. Entering was a shining-headed janitor in the navy uniform of Kyushu Imperial University. He seemed quite old, his back bent, but he carried a sooty earthenware pot and two crude teacups on a lacquered tray supported by his right hand, and a confectionery dish piled high with castella in his left hand. He tottered towards the large table. Placing it before Dr. Masaki, he looked at him with a puzzled expression, then bowed his head timidly as if frightened by something. Rubbing his hands, he nervously glanced between Dr. Masaki's and my faces with hazy eyes, then bowed deeply again, so low that his hands nearly touched the floor.

"It's truly a beautiful day today... This is a delivery from the dean, who instructed me to offer it as a tea snack for both of you..."

"Ahahaha, is that so? Wakabayashi sent it? Hmm, no, thank you for your trouble. Did Wakabayashi bring it himself?"

"No, the dean called earlier and asked if Professor Masaki was still here, and I was surprised and said I didn't know but would go check. When I went outside the room, I heard both your voices. So I told the dean, and he said he would send something later and to offer it as a tea snack..."

"Hmm, I see. I've certainly received it. Tell him on the phone to come talk if he's free. No, thank you for your trouble."

The janitor poured tea for the two of them with unsteady hands, bowed repeatedly, and then, his shining head gleaming, he exited.

Watching his retreating figure and confirming the door had closed, Dr. Masaki suddenly leaned forward, grabbed a piece of castella with his hand, devoured it in one bite, and gulped down the hot tea. Then, he gestured for me to eat as well.

I did not move. With my hands on my knees and my eyes wide open, I watched Dr. Masaki's actions. I was drawn to the tension between the two doctors, who seemed to be sparking off each other, though I didn't know why.

"Ahahahahaha. There's no need to be so disgusted. That's why I like villains. He knows that fellow hasn't eaten anything since staying up all night yesterday. So, he used my favorite Nagasaki castella to act like Uesugi Kenshin. It's sold in front of the hospital for visiting patients, so there's nothing to worry about. There's no cat poison or anything in it. Hahahahahaha."

Saying that, he again pushed two or three more pieces into his mouth and continued to drink tea.

"Ah, delicious. By the way, I'm going to continue with more talk, but before that, are there any remaining questions about the two seizures of Kure Ichiro that I just read about?"

"Yes, there are."

I answered without thinking. My voice echoed so clearly that I myself was surprised, creating a large reverberation in the room. Surprised by myself, I instinctively sat up straight and tightened my lower abdomen.

Perhaps it was due to the small disturbance that had just occurred before my eyes, the castella incident, that my previously stuck feelings suddenly shifted. Or perhaps the whiskey I had just been made to drink was finally beginning to take full effect, but in any case, at that moment, when I heard my reply echo and fade away with a "Whoa—!", courage suddenly welled up within me. I took a deep gulp of hot tea. The deliciousness of that tea was exceptional, and as I savored the fragrant aroma that traveled from my tongue to my esophagus again and again, I felt all the joints in my body gently relax. My blood circulation improved, my mood became calm, my head felt light, and licking my wet lips, I stared at Dr. Masaki's face.

"...No matter the logic, I can never truly believe myself to be Kure Ichiro..."

While I felt like declaring it in a loud voice, strangely, all the various events that had happened to me so far felt as if they were happening to a complete stranger, and I found it inexplicably amusing. What I had seen and heard since this morning began to spin before my eyes, imbued with an indescribable interest and color, as if I were looking through a kaleidoscope. At that moment, the two doctors, who had seemed like terrifying presences until now, no longer seemed scary at all; rather, they looked like wonderful, interesting toys.

...The two doctors must be making some kind of big mistake.

...The truth of this incident might be an unexpectedly ridiculous comedy.

"...There's a young man who is my spitting image, and both of us are suffering from an outlandish mental illness. Because of this, the two of us have become confused, and it's impossible to tell who is who. The two doctors are competing to distinguish us, but they just can't. Finally, in desperation, they've decided to use the girl who was one of our fiancées as their conclusion, and they're using every trick in the book to claim the credit for themselves... Doesn't it look like such an incredibly amusing and bizarre plot? ...How interesting... If that's indeed the case, then whether the two doctors are my enemies or allies, no matter how clever their terrifying methods against me may be, there's nothing to fear at all. I absolutely must uncover the true nature of this incident myself. And how exhilarating it would be if I thoroughly dug into the truth of the incident, rescued that girl from this hell of madness, and put those two doctors in their place..."

...I had changed into such a bold and buoyant mood. The refreshing brightness of the room, the greenness of the pine trees filling the window, and the midday stillness that permeated it all now felt even more pleasant and deeply comforting.

However, I believe that this change in my mind occurred within just a few seconds. Soon, I came back to my senses, and Dr. Masaki was leaning back with his hands behind his head, grinning at my face through his pince-nez. It was as if he was waiting for my question...

I paused for a moment. In any case, there were too many things I wanted to ask... But feeling ready to start anywhere, I picked up the will in front of me and flipped through it, eventually reaching the very end of the excerpt from the case records. I pointed to it and showed it to Dr. Masaki.

"It says, 'Insert a photographic edition of this... picture scroll and its origin story.' What about the original?"

"Ah. That one is..."

Before Dr. Masaki could finish speaking, he lowered both hands and slammed them onto the edge of the large table.

"...I completely forgot about that. Hahahaha. I was so engrossed in trying to restore your memory that I forgot to show you the most important thing. Without seeing that, you won't understand the true nature of Go Ichiro's psychological heredity. My will would be like making a Buddha without putting a soul in it. Hahahahahaha... No, a mistake, a mistake. Perhaps my head was a bit off due to lack of sleep... No. I'll show it to you right away. Here... it's right here."

Saying that, Dr. Masaki scratched his head and reached out a hand to pull over a furoshiki bundle made of merino wool that was beside him. He quickly untied the knot and took out a rectangular newspaper-wrapped package and a thick bound volume of large Western ruled paper, about two inches thick, from inside. He then deliberately carried them to the north window and spread out the furoshiki.

“...Pfft...Pfft...It's terribly dusty. It's been left in the stove hole for a long time, you see. ...Now, take a look. This file is Wakabayashi's investigation report on the Hama Incident, and it's the original of the excerpt you read. With that sharp nerve peculiar to tuberculosis patients, he investigated it with double and triple transparency, so meticulously that it's utterly overwhelming. So, if you're going to read it, you can do it slowly later. For today, let's just look at this picture scroll and its origin story... First, let's have you read the origin story. It'll be more interesting to see the picture scroll after that...”

As he said that, the newspaper wrapping was opened, and from within, a file about the size of a Japanese paper notebook, placed on a plain wooden box, was carelessly tossed in front of me.

“That is a copy of the origin story that serves as the colophon for this picture scroll. In other words, it's about events that occurred before the founding legend of Kisaragi-dera Temple, detailing the fundamental psychological heredity of Go Ichiro, which began about 1,100 years ago in ancient times. But while you're reading it... hmm? Whether you clearly remember the fact that you've read this somewhere before, a long time ago... that will still be the turning point for Wakabayashi's and my life or death. Right, isn't that so? If even a tiny fraction of that memory remains in your head, then you must be Go Ichiro... Hahahaha... Anyway, go ahead and read it. Don't hesitate. It's a wonderfully interesting story...”

I was well aware of how valuable the contents of that document were. However, it was strange that despite understanding all too well the grave implications of the psycho-scientific experiment Dr. Masaki was attempting to conduct on me through that document, I felt no tension whatsoever. Perhaps it was due to the whiskey I had just drunk, but conversely, as if imitating Dr. Masaki, I casually picked up the file and just as casually turned to the first page. Inside, square Kanji characters were densely packed together, lined up without any gaps.

"Wow, this is classical Chinese... and it's a plain text, isn't it? No punctuation, no okurigana, nothing... I can't possibly read this. This is..."

"Hmm, I see. In that case, there's nothing for it, so I suppose I'll just tell you the gist of the contents, as far as I remember them."

"Please do."

"...Ugh..."

Dr. Masaki said vaguely, leaning back. He climbed onto the chair with his slippers still on, hugged his knees, turned to face south, and with his eyes half-closed as if organizing his thoughts, he looked through the light from the window and exhaled a puff of blue smoke.

Perhaps due to the whiskey, I also felt a sense of weariness and sleepiness, so I propped my elbows on the desk and rested my chin on my hands.

"...Burp... Ugh... Well then. Speaking of Emperor Xuanzong of the Great Tang, that was exactly eleven hundred years ago. Towards the end of Emperor Xuanzong's reign, in the fourteenth year of Tianbao, a man named An Lushan rebelled. The following year, in the first month, An Lushan usurped the throne. In June, the rebels entered the pass, the Emperor fled and died at Mawei. Yang Guozhong and Yang Guifei were executed... so the chronicles state."

"...I see... You remember it very well, Doctor..."

"The uninteresting parts of history are the ones you just have to memorize. ...By the way, Emperor Xuanzong's death in the fifteenth year of Tianbao, as indicated by the chronicles, seems to be correct. However, seven years prior to that, in the eighth year of Tianbao, a seventeen or eighteen-year-old scholar from Fanyang named Wu Qingxiu, following Emperor Xuanzong's command, entered the land of Shu with a paint brush, depicted the waters of the Jialing River, then crossed the Wushan and Wuxia gorges, navigated upstream on the Yangtze River, discovered and returned with many scenic wonders, and presented over a hundred collected landscapes in five scrolls. The Emperor praised him and bestowed upon him Dai-nyeo, the surviving daughter of the former Hanlin scholar Fang Jiulian. Dai was Fen's sister, and they were twins. They both became ladies-in-waiting to the imperial consort. People at the time called them the 'Twin Flowers of Qinggong.' This was in the third month of the fourteenth year of Tianbao, when Wu Qingxiu was twenty-five and Fang Dai was seventeen."

"I'm surprised by this. I can't possibly remember all of it. Is that also from a chronicle?"

"No, this is different. Up to the part about 'bestowing Dai-nyeo,' it appears in a novel called 'The Secret History of the Peony Pavilion.' That novel contains illustrations, such as the poet Li Taibai drooling as he watches Emperor Xuanzong and Yang Guifei whispering sweet nothings in the Peony Pavilion. It's a very sentimental Chinese-style story, but what's interesting is that the beginning of the description about Wu Qingxiu in that novel matches the content of this historical account word for word. I plan to have someone from the literature department research it someday, but first and foremost, it's very well-written, to the point where you can't help but memorize it."

"Is that so? But somehow, stories told in a classical Chinese style are hard to understand just by listening. You have to look at each character used..."

"Hmm. Well, shall I go with a softer approach then?"

"Please do... that would be a great help."

"Hahahahahahaha. In short, this old man, Emperor Xuanzong, was depicted with Yang Guifei in festival lantern paintings, making him the most derelict emperor of all time. He pacified the four barbarians, governed the world, separated soldiers and farmers, prohibited bad currency... up to that point, things were good. But then Yang Guifei led him by the nose, and everything was 'all right.' He promoted good-for-nothing scoundrels, starting with her brother Yang Guozhong and his cronies, to important positions one after another. In other words, he drove out loyal subjects and surrounded himself with treacherous ministers, singing songs of peace and prosperity. In the end, he built a magnificent palace called Lishan Palace, with a bathhouse studded with gold, silver, and jewels, drawing in jade-like hot springs, and he jumped in with Guifei Yang... 'If I'm with you, I'll go anywhere...' that's how it went."

"Wow, that's too soft. ...So then,"

"No, you have to listen seriously. There's not a speck of Chan-gong's usual nonsense mixed in here. This is the original source of the popular song 'Dokomademo' that was popular four or five years ago. It's properly recorded."

"...Huh, is that so?"

"That's right. First, if I'm with you, I won't go to dull places like the Sahara or Niagara. We'll ascend to heaven together, become stars, and make the people below envious, so it's quite something. The one who was peeking must have been quite something too..."

"But how does that relate to the picture scroll?"

"It's very much related. Well, listen without rushing. It's a story from the continent, so it's hard to get to the point quickly. Alright... this cultured emperor, Xuanzong, loved art and favored and cherished a bald,酒-loving poet named Li Taibai. On the other hand, he ordered Wu Qingxiu, a young scholar who was nineteen or eighteen at the time, to sketch the famous scenic spots of the world. In other words, it was a gracious wish to tour the world without leaving his palace... it seems it was by order of Guifei-sama."

"That young man was a genius at painting, wasn't he?"

"Of course. He was a young man of eighteen or nineteen, yet he painted pictures that rivaled the poems of Li Bai, the bald-headed great poet renowned throughout history. That's no ordinary skill. However, due to his bad luck and early death, not much of his name or his works remain. As I said before, there are records from that time, of course, and even in recent chronicles, but the dates and names differ slightly depending on the book, so the exact details are unknown. However, there is tangible evidence here that details everything, so future historians will not be able to ignore it."

"So that picture scroll is a very valuable reference, isn't it?"

"It's more than just valuable... Now, to go back a bit, the young scholar, Wu Qingxiu, spent exactly six years on his sketching journey by imperial command. When he returned to the capital of Chang'an in the fourteenth year of Tianbao, his landscape scrolls were greatly pleasing to the emperor, who was in a good mood. He achieved supreme honor as an artist and also married a beautiful wife named Dai-zi. Furthermore, he received a small residence with a quiet, beautiful garden, and it was truly a period of abundant blessings, so he lived like a dream for a while. However, as he gradually settled in, he realized that it was precisely the prelude to the decline of the Great Tang Dynasty, with frequent ominous signs and portents, and everywhere were signs of great unrest in the world. Moreover, no matter how much his close retainers admonished him, the emperor was like a nail in bran; if he accidentally became displeased, loyal subjects were continuously executed on false charges. ...Seeing this, Wu Qingxiu involuntarily resolved to use the power of his brush to awaken the emperor from his delusion and bring peace to the nation. He confided his intentions to his newlywed wife, Lady Dai, saying, 'Here, for the sake of the world, would you sacrifice your life? I intend to follow you eventually...' To which she replied, 'For you, I would...' with a joyful expression."

"That's very wonderful."

"It was purely Chinese style. Then, Wu Qingxiu secretly hired carpenters and plasterers and built a painting studio, an atelier, in the mountains dozens of li from the imperial capital Chang'an. However, its structure was quite unusual: the windows were set high so that no one could peek in from outside, a bed covered with white cloth was placed in the center, and firewood, charcoal, vegetables, meat, and provisions for cold and insect protection were all prepared. After perfectly preparing for a siege, he secretly moved in with Lady Dai. Then, one day in November of that year, the couple further solidified their promise to reunite in the netherworld, exchanged farewell cups, shed tears of sorrow, and eventually, Lady Dai, who had purified herself, bathed, and applied fresh makeup, lay down on the bed dressed in white amidst rising incense smoke, and Wu Qingxiu climbed on top of her and strangled her to death. After that, Wu Qingxiu stripped the body naked, arranged its limbs, scattered incense and flowers, burned talismans, and exorcised the corpse demon. Then, he spread out paper, adjusted his paints, and began a vividly colored sketch, pouring his entire life's heart and soul into it."

"...Wow... that's quite a story. It's completely different from the origin story we heard earlier."

"...Wu Qingxiu thus depicted his wife's changing appearance every ten days, until she became a skeleton, capturing about twenty images in this scroll, which he then presented to Emperor Xuanzong. The plan was to use the truly lifelike power of his brush to show the transience of the human body and the impermanence of life right before one's eyes, intending to horrify. However, since there were no preservatives back then, even though it was winter, the decomposition accelerated rapidly, and the appearance of the body at the beginning and end of each painting was completely different. Eventually, before even half of the planned paintings could be completed, the corpse was reduced to just bones and hair... so it is said. ...Perhaps due to a lack of scientific knowledge, he might have planned it based on the decomposition rate of a buried body... In any case, it's an terrifying display of patience."