The Devil's Disciple by Shiro Hamao Page B

suffering. What a fool I was!
    I gave her a look of passion and our gazes locked. She looked back, her eyes also aflame, and said, ‘Look at this.’
    And without giving me a chance to avert my gaze she pulled up her left sleeve and thrust her bare arm in front of my eyes. The smell of her made me woozy at first, but then I saw a set of snake-like scars that seemed to have been burned into both of her arms.
    For a moment we both sat there in complete silence.
    â€˜Did Seizō do this to you?’ I said unthinkingly, immediately reaching out with my right hand to touch Michiko’s plump arm. She did not retract it, and silently nodded while offering it for my inspection.
    Oh, you devil! How could you abuse this goddess of a woman? You are not fit to be her husband – nay, not even to be her manservant!
    I cursed Seizō’s very existence. I railed against him. I cursed her marriage.
    In fact I did not go quite that far, but I was in such a state of agitation that I made no bones about my anger at Seizō.
    Michiko merely listened in silence and nodded, and when I had finished she said, ‘You’re the only one I’ve told so please keep this to yourself.’
    Michiko!
You
were the despicable one! When I think now that you played this trick not just on me but on so many other men as well it makes the blood course backwards through my veins!
    From that day on I resolved to defend her from the devil who tortured her. I would fight for her no matter what. I was her slave. What a fool I was!
    Now Seizō was not all that happy about the freedom he had given Michiko. Apparently he made Michiko suffer for the time she spent with other men like me. Even Seizō, it seemed, could be jealous. But his cool self-regard prevented him from ever addressing this with Michiko directly. Once I had understood this I began to copy Michiko’s behaviour towards him. I would purposely say things in his presence to make him uncomfortable. I found pleasure in thus making him miserable. In this way beginning in the spring of last year I met Seizō quite often and relished his unhappiness on each occasion.
    On that day, the 18th of August, that accursed day, Seizō’s unhappiness was very much in evidence!
    I don’t know for sure how Michiko was treating Tomoda. But considering that Seizō was being much friendlier to Tomoda than to myself, I assume that he, Tomoda, had not become as close to her as I had.
    And yet I cannot be sure of this since Seizō was the kind of man whose attitude often expressed the reverse of his true feelings.
    I was not actually invited on that day but, having nothing else to do, had gone there of my own accord. Tomoda happened to be there as well so we began a game of mahjong in the evening.
    During this game I was awash with sentimental emotions – on the one hand I was happy to be able to spend so much time with my lover, and on the other I felt sorry for myself for having fallen in love with a married woman and being forced to extract as much pleasure as I could from this silly game.
    Once the storm picked up outside I knew I was stuck there for the night and so devoted myself all the more single-mind-edly to the mahjong while indulging myself fully in this potent lover’s mixture of joy and sadness.
    After eight rounds it was still not clear who was winning. It was in the ‘west wind’ hand that Michiko suddenly did very well.
    Or rather someone arranged it so that she did very well. Seizō was the dealer for that hand. I was next to Seizō and just across from Michiko.
    It was the eighth and last round and no one had yet made any big wins or losses. The ‘prevailing wind’ was west when Michiko put together an excellent hand.
    Or perhaps it would be better to say that circumstances conspired in such a way that she got a good hand. Seizō was the dealer at the time. I was to Seizō’s left and opposite Michiko. After we had gone