Part 5 (last) of "Happiness Has the Form of a Kitten" (Otsuichi)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four



Murai hadn't been to school for one week. 


That morning I was having trouble getting up, and the curtains weren't open. When I realized this, I had a sad premonition. 


I got out of my futon and walked around the house. The floorboards were cold against my feet. I heard nothing but the low hum of the refrigerator in the deathly quiet. Suddenly the kitten meowed. It sounded like a child that had lost its parents as it wandered around the house, its voice full of anxiety and confusion.  I knew that she was no longer here. The kitten must have been searching for Yukimura, unable to find her. This was the first time it had ever been truly separated from its owner. 


I sat in a chair. This was the table where Yukimura listened to the radio at night. I sat there and thought of her for a long time, silent. 


I knew this day would come. And I predicted that I would be plagued with the sense of her loss. I understood all of it. I would just be going back to what it was like before. I could close the windows and lock myself away in my box-like room, just as I had intended in the first place. 


If I had done that, I wouldn't have been feeling this kind of sadness. 


It's painful to be connected with something. If I hadn't met anyone, I would never have felt envy, jealousy, or rage. If I had never grown close to anyone, I would never have experienced the pain of parting from them. 

She was murdered. What had she really been thinking as she lived here after that? When I thought that she might have cried in despair at what had been done to her, my chest grew tight. 


I'd always wished I could give her part of my own lifespan. If it meant she could live again, I wouldn't mind dying. As long as I could see her and the kitten happy, I'd ask for nothing else.


What was my life worth, in the first place? Why did she have to die, instead of me?


It took me a long time to notice the strange envelope on top of the table. I sprang forward and took it in my hands. It was a simple yellow envelope. It was addressed to me in her handwriting. From: Saki Yukimura.

I opened the envelope with trembling fingers. Inside, there was a single photograph and a slip of paper.


It was a photograph of myself and the kitten. I was laid out alongside the kitten, sleeping, an expression of perfect happiness on my face. It was maybe the most peaceful face I'd ever seen myself make in my life; a face I'd never seen in the mirror; a face that she saw through her unique filter. 


I read the letter. 


Sorry for taking a picture of you sleeping without asking. You just looked so cute, I took it before I realized what I was doing.

It's the first time I've been able to write this well. It's kind of weird. I felt like we'd developed some kind of communication between us, so I didn't think a letter was necessary. The next thing I knew us two and the kitten were living together, nestled close.

But I have to go soon. I wanted to be with you, and with the kitten, forever, but I can't do it. I'm sorry.

You probably don't know how grateful I am to you. I'm already dead but every day was really fun. I'm glad I met you. God is wonderful to have given me such a great gift. Thanks. We didn't always know what one another was thinking, or understand each other. We just had each other at our side. That was enough. I am dead and I had no one to rely on, but that made me happy. And plus, you didn't peek into my room or change it around.

The kitten died, didn't it. It's so sad. It might not realize that it's dead yet. That's how I was - I went about my daily life, without realizing I'd been killed. But the kitten will find out sooner or later that its dead, too. And I think it will leave you as well. But I don't want you to be sad when that time comes.

I don't think I'm unhappy; I don't think the kitten is either. There are a million things in this world that make you want to give up hope. There are times that you'll wish you had no eyes, and no ears.

But there are things so beautiful they make you want to cry, millions of them, in this world too. I've seen things so wonderful that I can't breathe. I'm thankful that this world exists, and that I got to be a part of it - even though it was only a small part. I always felt that way when I steady the camera and release the shutter. I was murdered, but I love this world. I can't help loving it. So I don't want you to hate it.

I want to tell you this: look at the photo I put with this letter. You've got a great expression on your face. You're a part of this limitless, beautiful world too. So doesn't that make you one of the things that I love with all my heart?

Saki Yukimura


The kitten wandered throughout the house, but never found her; it twined itself around my feet. After a pause I called out to it, happily, thinking I'd try to cheer it up.


Summer break had begun and there was no need to go to school. I thought I'd clean and do the laundry. But first, I would open up the curtains and the window, and let in some air. 


I stood on the porch and looked at the garden, where the plants were shimmering in the sunlight. The limitless sky, the tall clouds and the sun swept over my head. The tomatoes in the vegetable garden were red and sparkling with beads of water. 


Half a year ago, she lived in this world. 

She walks down a small, long road to nowhere in particular, a camera hanging from her neck.  On either side are wide pastures, the whole of it green. The wind is warm and sweet, and invigorates her. Her steps are as light as air, her mouth open in a natural smile. There is an boy-like innocence in her eyes, and she lifts her head high; she is waiting for the adventure that is set to begin. The road continues far ahead. The blue sky and the land stretch on until they touch. 

I thanked her from the bottom of my heart: we didn't have very long, but thank you for being by my side.

Part 4 of "Happiness Has the Form of a Kitten" (Otsuichi)

Part One Part Two Part Three

The next day school was over and the sun slid by, marking the evening sky in red. The number of passers-by had dwindled, and there was no one but me at the lake. It was quiet. There was no wind, and the water in front of my eyes, still and without the smallest ripple, seemed like it swallowed every living sound. The lake was silent, a single giant mirror spreading over the land.


The lanterns placed at regular intervals around the lake blinked on. The branches of the trees in the forest arched hungrily toward the water, as if trying to jump in. I sat on one of the benches, and after a while Murai appeared. 

"So what'd you call me to this place for?" 

He had parked and walked here. I slid down to give him some space, and he sat on the bench with me. The kitten meowed from inside the bag I'd brought with me. 

"It looks like you found the kitten," he said. 

I nodded and lifted the bag up onto my knees. Inside, there was more than enough room for the kitten. The bell around its neck jingled; it sounded like it was clawing at the inside of the bag. 

"I called you here today because I had something to tell you. There's a chance you won't believe me. But since you lost your best friend here at this pond, it's something I have to tell you, no matter what."

And I started to tell him about the Yukimura and the kitten. How I had enrolled in college and started living in my uncle's house. How the previous tenant, who was supposed to have been killed, hadn't left yet. How she wouldn't let me close the curtains in the afternoons. How the kitten followed her invisible owner around, and loved her old clothes. 

It grew darker at the lake, and we sat motionlessly in the lantern light. Murai didn't interrupt me, just listened to my voice. When I finished the story, he sighed. 


"So that's how it is... Is that all you called me here to say?" he asked. He sounded annoyed. It was clear he didn't believe my words. 


I forced myself to look into his eyes. I honestly wanted to look away, to tell him it was all a joke. But I couldn't cover everything over like that. I knew I couldn't run away from the problem. 


"After the neighbor, Ms. Kino, brought the kitten back in her arms, there were some things I couldn't stop thinking about. For example, why would Yukimura expose her photo paper to light, making it useless?"


"Yukimura is that person in your story, the one that should be dead, right?"


"The day before yesterday, when the kitten disappeared, Yukimura tore the house apart looking for it. She often moved furniture when I wasn't looking. That's why I didn't realize it at first. I thought that she had moved things in the darkroom, like always. But isn't it strange for her do something as inept as purposefully ruining her photo paper? The drawer was left open and the windows weren't closed! It's inconceivable. Someone who didn't know the darkroom must have come in, searching for something, and left the photo paper exposed to light. That someone had no knowledge of photography, or photo paper. At a glance it looks like normal, white paper, doesn't it? But suddenly the owner of the home returned, and that someone left the darkroom without tidying up. Basically, I came to think that the person who moved things in the dark room wasn't Yukimura after all."

"Hold on a second. You've been saying 'Yukimura such-and-such' from the beginning, but this ghost stuff, it's all a story, isn't it?" He laughed, trying somehow to tear down the serious atmosphere of the moment. But the tranquility of the trees, the lake, didn't allow for that.


"Murai, why did you suggest we have beer the night before last? To make me leave to buy the alcohol, so you would be left alone in the house like you wanted. You already know that I don't drink. You made me go and buy the alcohol because you wanted time to search the house, didn't you?"

Part 3 of "Happiness Has the Form of a Kitten" (Otsuichi)

Part 1 Part 2


It happened the last week of June. That day it was clear all morning, with no sign of anything that might obstruct the sun. The rain started in the evening, so I ended up soaked on my walk home from school. Naturally, I had left the house without an umbrella, but I didn't even think of stopping on the way home to buy one. I wasn't carrying anything that couldn't get wet.

There was no one around the lake that I always passed by. Wooden benches were installed at regular intervals,  turned lonesomely toward the water. The opposite bank of the lake, blurred with rain, was foggy, and a haze hung between the water and the woods. There was no sign of life; the quiet sound of rain alone reigned over the lake and woods. My eyes were arrested by the unearthly scene, and I stood for a long while staring at the water. It was so cold the early summer seemed like a lie.


The quiet lake that spread before my eyes had stolen Murai's friend away. Its waters reflected an ash-colored sky. I was walking toward the lake as if being sucked in, but I didn't realize this until I was stopped by a thin fence.


The thought that Murai's friend might still be near this lake remained with me. They said his body had been removed. But he could still be there, like Yukimura, rising, sinking into the lake again and again. I thought it would be worth it to search the area more thoroughly. Even if he wasn't visible to human eyes, maybe the kitten would be able to find him. Murai needed to speak with his dead friend. That's what I thought. I had to come here with the kitten sometime.


I left the lake and began to walk home. When I got home, there might be a towel ready for me in the entryway. She could know that I'd be coming home soaked, and wait for me with dry clothes. Maybe she'd put out hot coffee to warm me up.


I felt an incomprehensible pain. I wondered how long this lifestyle could last. She would leave at some point. To that place where everyone goes eventually. Why didn't she leave now? Did she decide not to the moment she lost her life? Maybe she worried about the kitten she would leave behind.


The police said that the person who stabbed Yukimura was a robber. They still hadn't found the culprit.  Once in a while police officers would come to the house, talk, and leave. While it was  obvious she was loved by everyone, she didn't appear to have any close friends her age in the neighborhood. It couldn't be said that the crime was committed by someone she knew, just that she was attacked, unfortunately, by a robber who had come randomly to the house. It was a sad accident, equal to being struck by lightning and killed, or dying in an airplane crash.


In this world, there are many things that make you want to lose hope. Both Murai and I don't have the power to oppose that; all we can do is fall onto our knees and pray to God. We must wait for the sadness to pass over us with closed eyes and stopped ears, curled into ourselves.


What could I do for Yukimura?

Part 2 of "Happiness Has the Form of a Kitten" (Otsuichi)

乙一の『しあわせは子猫のかたち』 2
You can read Part One if you haven't yet.

Part Two 


I had been eating lunch alone in the school cafeteria, far removed from everyone. In the beginning I didn't plan to go through the trouble of making a friend to eat with. 

One day a man suddenly sat down in front of me. I didn't know him. 


"You're the guy that moved into the house where someone was murdered, right?" That was Murai. He was in the year above me. At first I just gave short answers to his questions, but he didn't seem to be a bad guy. He look was affable, knew a lot of people, and looked like kind of person who could get along with anyone.

From then on we started hanging out. I say "hang out" but we weren't what could be called friends. I just got to ride in his beloved Mini Cooper to go shopping, or if I had some errands to run near the station. His blue, cutely shaped car drew everyone's eyes when it stopped in the street.

Murai was popular and loved by everyone. He didn't pressure me if I didn't drink alcohol. He often started friendly chats, surrounded by people. At those times I quietly left my seat. Nobody noticed. I didn't feel like participating in that kind of conversation. Instead of listening to the conversation from somewhere a little removed, I felt most at peace sitting alone on a bench on the campus grounds, staring at the rotting root of a potted tree. I could become calm when alone, more so than being in a large crowd. 


Murai's friends were overflowing with energy and always laughing. They were rich, good at sports, and active. They were residents of a world different from mine. 


Compared with them, I felt as if I was a lower level organism. In reality, my shabby, unironed clothes and the habit I had of quickly choking on my words became a target for their laughter. What's more, because I didn't speak unless it was absolutely necessary, they probably thought I was completely apathetic. 


Once, they performed a small experiment. It happened in the A building lobby on campus.


"We'll be back soon, so you wait here," they said, and left for somewhere, taking Murai with them. I sat on a bench in the lobby and read a book as I waited for them to return. College students milled noisily around me. An hour passed, but no one had come back. I grew nervous, but in the end I continued to read for another hour. 


That's when Murai returned, alone. He looked at me with a complicated expression on his face and said, "You were tricked by everyone. No one was going to come back, no matter how long you waited. They all got tired of watching you and drove off a long time ago."


I responded only with Oh, I see, then closed my book and stood to go.


"You aren't embarrassed? Everyone was having fun watching you get nervous," Murai said. 


It's always happened to me, so I only half cared.


"I'm already used to this kind of thing." I left him behind and walked quickly away from that place. I felt Murai's gaze on my back. 


I had felt from the beginning that I couldn't belong with them. They had all kinds of things that I would never be able to get, no matter how much I reached for them. That's why I felt a secret hopelessness after I exchanged words with them, and embraced a feeling close to hatred. 


No, I didn't feel that only for them. I hated everything, cursed it. Especially things like the sun, the blue sky, flowers, songs - I emphatically muttered my curses at them. I thought all of the people who walked around with bright faces were all very ugly, stupid things. Solely by rejecting the world and keeping it at a distance like that, I could become calm.


That's why I thought the pictures that Yukimura had taken were miraculous.

しあわせは子猫のかたち｢作家｣乙一 "Happiness Has the Form of a Kitten" (Otsuichi)

Otsuichi (real name 安達寛高, Adachi Hirotaka) is a prolific author who began publishing at 17. A number of his works have become movies and/or manga, including the short story 『君にしか聞こえない』 (Calling You) and the novel　『GOTHリスット事件』 (Goth). He is also a scriptwriter. Several of his works have been translated into English, including his short story collection Zoo and his first published book, 『夏と花火と私の死体』 Summer, Fireworks, and My Corpse. You can read about his reading habits in this interview with 作家の読書道. He also uses twitter.

The following is the first part of Otsuichi's 『幸せは子猫の形』, which is in his own collection 『失われる物語』 and part of a compilation called 『きみが見つける物語』. The latter describes itself as a "十代のための新名作恋愛篇", or a collection of new masterpieces about love for teenagers. I initially wanted to get the mystery series version of the book, but I decided I would try to broaden my horizons and read some love stories, since I guess love isn't that bad now that they have mostly proven that cooties don't exist and all. They have quite a few different collections for students of Japanese who want to read something at a kind of middle level. The text is more advanced than beginner/elementary reading materials (probably more interesting too), but the kanji isn't as in your face as more complex materials. Moving onto Otsuichi's story, I'd heard of some of his stories and movies, but only had a general idea of his work (spooky, twist at the end, imaginative, bittersweet, etc). I've really enjoyed what I read so far, and I'm looking forward to Part Two, and more after that.


Part One


When I decided to leave the house and live on my own, it was simply because I wanted to be alone. What I wanted more than anything was to go to an obscure town where no one knew me and die alone. That's why I purposefully chose to go to somewhere far from home for college. I apologize to my parents for becoming the kind of person who turns his back on his hometown. But I have many siblings, so they shouldn't be hurt that they've lost one never-do-well son.

It was necessary to determine a place of residence before I began living alone. My uncle owned an old house, so I decided to rent it. The last week of March, I went to that house together with my uncle, to inspect it.

Until that time I'd never had even a single conversation with my uncle. I sat in the passenger seat of the car he was driving, and we headed for our destination, but the conversation fell flat. It wasn't just because we had no topics in common. I lack any ability to converse, so I'm not the type of person who can speak frankly with ease.

"I heard that a college student drowned in that lake over there about a month ago. Got drunk and fell in." My uncle pointed out the window with his chin as he drove.

The trees flew past and I glimpsed a large pond in the midst of the dense, thick leaves. The pond's surface was dyed grey as it reflected the overcast skies, and it gave off a lifeless, lonely impression. Around it was a field of grass.

"Really?" As soon as I said it, I thought I should have been more exaggeratedly surprised. My uncle was probably expecting me to be surprised.

"You aren't really shocked by things like people dying, then?"

"Well, no..." I'm not easily moved by the mundane deaths of strangers.

My uncle looked slightly relieved, but I didn't realize the meaning behind his expression.

Thanks to my manual-like answers, the conversation with my uncle didn't last much longer after that. My uncle fell quiet, looking bored, and as I wondered whether he thought I was tedious an uncomfortable silence rose within the car. It's a situation I can't get used to, despite having experienced it countless times, but I don't feel any anger. I've simply always been the kind of person who is unable to match up with others.

Even so, I'd already grown tired of worrying over how to connect with people. It was enough already, more than enough. From now I would refrain from meeting with people as much as possible. I would try not to leave my house to often, and live quietly. And as much as possible, I wanted to avoid doing things like walking down the middle of the street. Nothing is a greater relief than to leave the crowds behind, and be alone. From now on, I would live my life alone with the curtains closed.

The home that my uncle owned was a two-story wooden house in an unremarkable, ordinary residential area. Compared to the homes surrounding it, it seemed old as a hand-coloured photograph, and looked like it might lean to the opposite side if you pushed it. When I walked around it I was back to where I started before I knew it, so I didn't foresee any disasters. There was a neat garden, and there were traces of someone having grown their own vegetables there recently. There was a water pipe and faucet on the side of the house, and the green hose was laid out in a coil.

When I looked around I was surprised to find that nearly all the furniture and household items were still inside. I had imagined an abandoned house, but now I felt as if I'd set foot in a stranger's home. 
 
"Had someone been living in here until recently?"

"I was renting it to a friend of a friend. That person's already died, but since they had no relatives there was no one to take the furniture and all..."

My uncle didn't seem eager to say much about the previous tenant.

It was as though life had been going normally until just a second ago, when suddenly only the people disappeared with a puff. An old movie calendar, a postcard stuck to the wall with a pin. Silverware, books, cassette tapes, cat figurines on the shelves. All of the previous tenant's things were left just as they were.

"You can use what's left. The owner is gone," said my uncle.