The Graveyard Apartment by Mariko Koike Page B

she’d gone into extravagant rhapsodies over the cherry blossoms. “Oh my god, what an absolutely exquisite view,” she sighed, as if she had momentarily forgotten that the beautifully blooming trees were surrounded by tombstones, burial mounds, and grave markers.
    Ha , Teppei had thought. If that woman had come to visit us during the bleak, gray winter and saw the view then—nothing but legions of dark, dingy gravestones, with the leafless tree branches lancing the air like crooked needles—she would probably have said something like, “Oh my god, what a dreary view. Why, you half expect a vampire to jump out at any moment!”
    As a housewarming gift, Tatsuji and Naomi had brought a set of linens: a white lace tablecloth, with napkins to match. The cloth was a perfect fit for the dining table, and Misao was delighted.
    Teppei strongly believed that his wife’s intelligence and tact were the main reasons she was able to maintain a reasonably amicable relationship with her sister-in-law. He often thought that to get along with someone like Naomi you had to be either very clever or else a natural-born coward like Tatsuji. Oh well , he thought. She isn’t my problem, so I’m not going to lose sleep over it.
    After passing through the station gate, the majority of people who had gotten off the train with Teppei headed for the north exit and scattered into the night. Even though it was past midnight, the streets around the exit were still garishly aglow with the neon lights of pubs, ramen joints, specialty restaurants, convenience stores, and pachinko parlors. Sidewalk vendors of octopus fritters and oden had set up their carts just beyond the train station and were loudly touting their wares, trying to lure the passing inebriates into stopping for a snack on their wobbly way home.
    The less popular south exit, by contrast, was quiet, and the rows of small shops had all been shuttered for the night. Only a couple of coffee shops remained open, with their electrified Coca-Cola signs casting a dim, rosy radiance over the nearly deserted street.
    Teppei emerged from the south exit into the mild spring night. After pausing briefly to let the sweet, balmy air wash over him, he lit a cigarette and continued on his way. A single taxicab pulled up directly in front of him, and the rear passenger door flew open. A second later a female emerged from the backseat of the cab with such force that it almost appeared as though she’d been hurled from an ejector seat.
    The woman was dressed in a blossom-pink kimono, and no sooner had she tumbled out onto the street than she angrily began to kick the side of the taxi with one dainty foot shod in a white wedge-heeled zori. “Get out of here, you jerk!” she shouted. “I never want to see you again!”
    The taxi driver stuck his head through the open window and shouted, “You evil wench!” Looking as if he might leap out at any moment, he snarled, “You think you can ride for free and run off without paying?”
    Wrenching open a small clutch purse, the woman pulled out some paper currency and tossed it through the window of the cab. “Here you go, you money-grubbing bastard. Are you happy now?”
    â€œCrazy slut,” the taxi driver growled, baring his teeth. Opening his door, he came flying out onto the pavement, clutching the woman’s money.
    It looked as if things were about to get interesting, so Teppei decided to stop and watch the spectacle unfold. His lit cigarette dangled from his mouth, momentarily forgotten. A small crowd of passersby began to gather, forming a spontaneous ring around the combatants.
    The woman seemed to draw energy from the growing audience, because she gave a disdainful snort of laughter and said haughtily, “Oh, are you really going to hit a woman now? Stupid jerk!”
    The enraged driver glanced around at the onlookers, then let out a loud groan of frustration that sounded more