Paprika (48 page)

“Wahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

Inui’s insane laughter filled the sanctuary. The ceiling peeled off and shards of stained glass danced through the air. They turned into dead rats, German dictionaries, wineglasses, fountain pens, scorpions, cats’ heads, syringes, and a motley jumble of other objects that filled the space, flying around madly, swirling like a whirlwind, surging like a raging sea.

“He’s lost his mind!” shouted the voice of Kosaku Tokita, unseen.

But the madness was short-lived.

The cathedral disappeared, whereupon all returned to their respective dreams and their respective realities. Except for Inui, that is. It wasn’t clear what had happened to him.

This was the moment Kuga had been waiting for. He’d been standing by, having diverted the power of his dreams to make time go backward. He’d done so by focusing his mind on dreams in which the dreamer wants to return to the past, and had thereby tried to reinstate a specific time in his dream. He had succeeded in his attempt, but the sheer effort of it had drained every last drop of his energy, both mental and physical. He lost consciousness.

Professor Karl Krantz started to speak in English. “Doctor Kosaku Tokita and Doctor Atsuko Chiba, for your invention of psychotherapy devices in the treatment of mental illness, and your considerable achievements in their clinical application, it is an honor and a privilege to convey to you, on behalf of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, our warmest congratulations on winning the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine …”

26

“P.S. I Love You” echoed around the dark-brown interior of Radio Club. In a spacious booth at the back of the bar, the one that was like a private room of its own, a quiet celebration was in progress. The participants were looking back over weighty events that seemed to have taken place only a moment ago, and were rejoicing in their safe conclusion.

“Amazing that such a place existed,” Torataro Shima said with an air of lament. “None of us knew about it. He must have been sleeping there the whole time. He must have starved to death in his sleep.”

Seijiro Inui’s emaciated body had been found in one of the forgotten detention rooms, in the second basement of the hospital attached to the Institute for Psychiatric Research.

“He must have been hiding there, building up his psychic power for the day of the awards ceremony,” Toshimi Konakawa said with a sigh of disbelief, slowly and repeatedly shaking his head. “He knew very well that it would ultimately destroy him, yet he was still wearing the DC Mini. It was embedded so deep in his skull that a layer of skin had grown over the base. Such was the depth of his malicious vindictiveness.”

“And you think he died just after that last confrontation?” asked Tatsuo Noda.

“Probably. There were no more appearances after that, until they discovered his body. Either in our dreams or in reality.” Konakawa nodded. “That last battle must have used up all his remaining energy.”

“I thought he’d gone mad for a moment.”

“He did go mad,” Tokita said before turning to Konakawa. “Did Osanai know the Vice President was down there?”

“If anything, I think it was Osanai who put him there. And I reckon they kept Himuro there as well.”

Morio Osanai had been charged with Himuro’s murder.

“Himuro. And Hashimoto. Poor blokes.” Tokita hung his head, revealing his inner torment. “They all went mad from the beginning. We all did, me included.”

The others showed a certain discomfort with that notion, and shifted uneasily in their seats. The residual effects of the DC Mini. No, that wasn’t all. The anaphylaxis effect, which could but increase. The immune hypersensitivity, which could but grow more hypersensitive. It was a fear they all felt but could not express. If only someone could make them forget it. Anyone.

“But at least Tsumura and Kakimoto are on the way to recovery,” Atsuko Chiba said cheerfully as she patted the back of Tokita’s hand. She felt proud, at that moment, of her ability to appear nonchalantly light-hearted for Tokita’s sake.

“More drinks, anyone?” Kuga stood beside Atsuko, a huge crescent-shaped smile occupying the whole of his face.

“That’s right! We haven’t had that toast yet!” Noda exclaimed, turning to Kuga. “Yes. The same all around, if you would.”

“The same all around. Coming right up.” Kuga bowed low in a state of great joy.

“And have you recovered now?” asked Shima.

Kuga gave another polite bow. “Oh yes. The collapse was only temporary. Now I’m just as you see me,” he declared, spreading his arms wide.

“He says he’s fatter than before,” Jinnai called with a laugh from behind the counter.

“By the way, it’s been known for married couples to win the Nobel Prize, but I don’t think two prizewinners have ever married each other before,” said Noda. “When do you plan to tie the knot?”

“Well, once all this hullabaloo has died down a bit,” Tokita said sheepishly. “Quietly, no press conferences or anything like that.”

“We’re really so very sorry,” Atsuko said with her head bowed.

They all laughed at the faintly immoral implication behind Atsuko’s words, which only they could understand. Drinks were brought. Jinnai and Kuga also helped themselves, whereupon all raised their glasses in a toast to Atsuko and Tokita, winners of the Nobel Prize and now engaged to be married.

“And that’s the end of Paprika, too,” Atsuko said emphatically, surveying the men’s faces as she did. “Whatever happens from now on, Paprika will not be working again.”

“True,” Shima concurred sadly. “Inevitable, really. So that sweet, lovely girl is really dead now?”

“She’s dead,” Atsuko said with a smile. “She no longer exists.”

“No, that’s not true,” said Noda, straightening up from the back of the seat. “Paprika is still alive. Just like any idol, she will live on forever in the hearts of those who met her. I will never forget her, for one.”

“But we won’t be able to meet her,” said Konakawa.

“Yes, we will,” Noda contended with some conviction. “If we want to meet her, we can always find her in our dreams. If we really want to meet her, we need only wish sincerely to see her, and she will always join us there. I really believe that. She will be an independent personality. She will smile at us and talk to us, just as she has until now. I’m sure she will. With her incredible beauty, her delicate gentleness, and her great intelligence coupled with unbending courage …”

27

“P.S. I Love You” echoes around the dark-brown interior of Radio Club. There are no customers in the bar. Jinnai is wiping glasses behind the counter, Kuga is standing by the door. As always.

What was that?
Jinnai tilts his head. It’s almost as if he can hear some customers in the booth at the back of the bar, enjoying a quiet conversation and good-natured laughter.

They’re fondly remembered, those customers, a group of really decent people who often used to meet, both in reality and in dreams.
I wonder if they’ll ever be back
, thinks Jinnai.
How long is it since they were here?

He looks up to see his old friend Kuga standing by the door with his back to him, completely motionless. As always.

Jinnai can no longer resist the urge to call out. “Hey. We were fighting, weren’t we?”

Kuga doesn’t turn, but the trace of a smile on his lips broadens a little. “Yes. We were fighting,” he replies. He almost looks as if he’s asleep.

Jinnai nods twice before going back to his wiping. He smiles in satisfaction; his mouth seems about to break into a chuckle. He waits a moment, then, as if to confirm what he heard, calls out to Kuga once more. “And we were courageous, weren’t we?”

“Yes. We were courageous,” Kuga replies with a groan.

Jinnai looks happy as he increases the vigor of his wiping. But there’s something he still finds hard to comprehend. He remembers what it is and the smile leaves his face. He mumbles a question, neither to himself, nor to Kuga.

“So – it was all a dream, was it?”

Kuga doesn’t answer. His back is still turned. His eyelids are closed, as if he were deep in meditation. It’s not certain whether he knows the answer or not. The smile on his face makes him look more and more like an image of Buddha.