The Tatami Prophecies (Part 4)

October 16

Stayed up until 2 last night working on physics report, but when I woke up it was past noon, and class had ended long ago. Talk about putting the cart before the horse, RIP. No lectures in the afternoon, so I raided the fridge for a bite to eat and spent the rest of the day flipping through The Prophecies of Nostradamus.

Once evening fell, headed to Ryokūdō to keep my date with Tamako. Sweet smell of instant shiruko. Tamako was staring at the diary with her arms folded. “Here it is,” she said. “There it is,” I said. With just one last day to go the book of prophecies had at last returned to its rightful owner.

“I think Gotō brought it himself because he tried to defy the prophecy,” Tamako told me. Apparently she’d spent every waking moment since last night scrutinizing the diary.

The author of this 4½ Tatami Diary must have found and read another 4½ Tatami Diary. Just like me he was bound by the prophecies. No way to tell when this had all begun. Tamako’s theory was that each successive diary revolved around an insignificant life, updated slightly by each new resident.

The most surprising thing she found was that the diary also had analogs of Gotō and Tamako. On the 12th and 13th our actions matched theirs exactly, which is how the landlady and Professor Akasaka had been able to predict our arrival.

But starting on the 14th things started to diverge slightly. That’s because Gotō got greedy and hung on to the diary. According to the diary Gotō was supposed to hand it back to Tamako on the night of the 14th. So all of the misfortune he encountered was due to the fact that he knew what the future was supposed to be yet tried to avoid it. But even he had to recognize that his life might actually be in danger if he kept it up, so he ended up returning it a day late to Tamako.

“Aren’t you going to read it?” she asked me.

“It’s not like there’s any point.”

“That’s not true. It’ll tell you where we need to go tomorrow.”

I shrugged and flipped the diary to the final page.

――――――

October 17

The day of prophecy has dawned: the day the world comes to an end.

When I woke up my mind was crystal clear. Come what may, I was determined to see it to the end. I promised I’d tell her how the adventure ends.

Headed to the Prince Hotel at Takaragaike at 2 like the diary said. Everyone was already gathered and waiting for me. When I met my esteemed companions the question “Why?” became meaningless. The secret of the 4½ Tatami Diary is simply something that exists. What we must focus on is simply “how” to live. Farewell, my insignificant life.

Terra incognita awaits.

――――――

After I was done reading I started to think. It’s clear that tomorrow I have to go to the Prince Hotel in Takaragaike at 2. But everything else was so abstract that I can’t make any sense of it. Like reading someone’s reflection after attending a dodgy self-improvement seminar. What happens to me tomorrow?

“I’d love to come along, but…” said Tamako sadly. She was right, since the diary says, “I promised I’d tell her how the adventure ends,” it’s clear the diary won’t allow her to come to the hotel. Who knows what would happen to her if she tried.

This diary contains my own destiny, and that means that it’s my job to see it to the end. “I’ll come back and tell you what happens,” I told her.

“I’ll be waiting right here,” she said.

After that I headed to the bathhouse. Figured I could use a good cleansing.

October 17

The day of prophecy has dawned.

Fell fast asleep last night after my purifying trip to the bathhouse. Weather was excellent, mind was clear. Whether it was the end of the world or some horrifying demon that awaited me I was ready to take it all on. However this ends, I’ll finally be freed from the chains of the diary. “Free at last! Free at last!” I murmured to myself as I straddled my bike and headed towards Takaragaike.

Arrived at the hotel at 1:45. It was quiet at the hotel, felt like something magical was just waiting to happen. Nervously walked into the lobby and was shocked to see Gotō standing there, lit by a sunbeam from the courtyard. He still had the bandages on his face, but he looked much improved. The curse must have lifted.

“I’ve come to see the end of the world.”

“Won’t the diary get mad at you again?”

“The entry for the 17th doesn’t mention me at all. That means I’m free to do as I please. With all that happened to me I didn’t make a single yen, so I might as well at least see how it ends. I deserve at least that much, don’t I?”

As we stood there whispering to each other a young man wearing a suit came up to us. “Excuse me. Are you Matsumoto?” he asked. “Yes,” I nodded.

“I thought so,” he smiled. “We’ve been waiting for you. The gathering is being held in the underground banquet hall. Let me show you the way.”

We started off but then the young man stopped Gotō sternly. “You’re not supposed to be there.”

“Oh well, I’ll just wait here. Break a leg!” he said with a grin, breaking out the fingerguns.

The young man and I proceeded down the hushed hallways downstairs.

“I’m the one who wrote your 4½ Tatami Diary,” he said to me with a wink. “And your diary will become the 4½ Tatami Diary for the next student that comes along. You’re part of a significant legacy, you know.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s understandable that you’re confused. It’ll all become clear before long―”

Felt like the hallways swallowed up all sound as we made our way down to the banquet hall. Arrived at double doors with signs on either side that said “4½ Tatami Diary Society”.

“Welcome to the 4½ Tatami Diary Society,” said the young man, opening the heavy door and putting a hand on my back to usher me inside.

Was greeted by stout applause plus the powerful reek of body odour. Over twenty men standing around at the cocktail party, all beaming at me. Thinking back their smiles must have been a mixture of expectation and pity and superiority all rolled up. Agewise they ran the gamut; some like the man who showed me inside were in their twenties, and some of them were sharp-eyed white-haired old men in wheelchairs wearing kimono. But all of them had this big shot sort of aura; I even recognized a couple of them from the papers and TV.

Soon Professor Akadama took the stage.

“Let’s have a big hand to welcome the newest member of our society: Matsumoto Kiyohiro!”

Another round of applause and then silence again.

“You’re probably confused right now,” continued Professor Akadama. “Every single person in this room, as well as our forebears who have passed on, experienced that same confusion when they were ushered into this society. But rejoice at your good fortune, for you are one of the chosen few. What is the 4½ Tatami Diary? It is none other than an unbroken chain of insignificant, fruitless college experiences, stretching far back into the mists of history. It is useless to ask why it exists. What you must ask yourself, now that you have come face to face with this silly cycle of space and time, is: how will you now live?”

He eyed me fiercely like a hawk eyeing a quivering bunny rabbit.

“The life you have led thus far is like a dirty dishrag lying on the ground: utterly insignificant. And yet each of us is painfully familiar with it, for we each experienced our own versions of that barren 4½ tatami life. Your days are empty, your love life is empty, your dreams are empty. I will put it plainly: as you stand there now, you are worthless. But the 4½ Diary Tatami Society offers a lifeline, an ironclad curriculum guaranteed to transform even the most fatuous fool into a first-rate student. The road will be hard. You will receive no pity. But we have turned out some of the finest men of the age. In school, in the professional world, in love: we of the 4½ Tatami Diary Society will spare no effort in setting you on the right path. Armed with an unshakeable sense of purpose and an iron will, you will lead the most meaningful of lives. Save for vice and debauchery, all in this world will be at your fingertips. The world you have thus far inhabited is mean and vile. Bid farewell to it now, and you will embark on a journey into a new world. Take upon yourself the certitude of the anointed, and set forth toward horizons yet unseen! That is all.”

After this grandiloquent speech Professor Akadama motioned to me.

“Now let us hear from Matsumoto himself.”

I was dragged onto the stage and stood there looking at the sea of suits.

“Um…I’m not sure what to say…”

What I felt at the moment inside was rage. I thought I was going to be free from the 4½ Tatami Diary and instead I’d wandered right into a horrible trap. Bunch of annoying, nosy idiots. That diary really isn’t just a prophecy, it’s a curse!

“What’s wrong?” “Pull yourself together!” I heard them start to jeer as I stood there tonguetied on the stage. “What say you?” said Professor Akadama, his eyes sparkling.

Suddenly the door flew open and I saw Gotō standing outside.

“Matsumoto! Your dad’s in critical condition!”

“Excuse me,” I said, making my way off the stage and jogging across the hall.

“What happened to my dad?” I asked Gotō after closing the door behind me.

“Nothing, silly,” he said airily, taking off his jacket and deftly threading it through the door handles so they couldn’t open.

“Is this supposed to be a rescue?” I asked.

“I can’t have you going all respectable on me. If you did, who would I look down on?”

The doors rattled and I heard angry shouting coming from the other side. “You can’t get away!” “We know where you’re going!”

Gotō shoved his back against the doors and grinned. “You just get out of here and leave this to me,” and for the first time in my life I believed him.

That’s how I escaped from the Prince Hotel. Unless I wanted to be remade into a robot with an unshakeable sense of purpose and an iron wilI, I had to find a place to hide from those creeps.

I pedaled my bike as fast as I could back to my apartment in Jōdoji. Packed a backpack with bare essentials. Given my 4½ tatami room lifestyle not like I had many belongings in the first place. Didn’t forget my diary of course, which is how I’m writing this now.

Only took a few minutes to pack everything and then I was on my way to Ryokūdō. Tamako had a right to know about this bizarre turn of events.

When I ran into Ryokūdō dripping with sweat Tamako jumped up in alarm.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

I ducked behind the register.

“I’m being chased,” I whispered.

Face to face so close our foreheads were almost touching, I told her about the weird events at the Prince Hotel. “A secret society! Like the Freemasons!” she excitedly said. She murmured respectfully at Gotō’s heroics, sounding disappointed she couldn’t be there.

“So what are you going to do now?”

“I think I’ll have to go on the run.”

“Whoa, that sounds awesome!”

I saw a fleet of taxis roll up in front of the store. They’d found me.

Tamako leaped out from behind the register with enough force to knock over the collected works of Kunikida Doppo and sprinted to the door. As she put up the Closed sign and locked the door the suited mob got out of the taxis and started walking towards the shop. They pounded on the glass, but Tamako ignored them and turned around.

“Come on! We gotta get to the back door!” she laughed.

We picked our way between the piles of books deeper into the shop. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I could make out a door hidden behind all the musty tomes. As we went along we picked up the books and stacked them behind us to form a barricade. Just when I spotted the doorknob I heard the crash of the front door being kicked down followed by a torrent of angry yells.

But Tamako had already unlocked the back door. She grabbed the knob with her right hand and took my hand with her left. Her hand was wonderfully soft, and surprisingly warm, and ever so slightly moist, like a karukan.

As of today, October 17, the tale of the 4½ Tatami Diary comes to an end. I’m free to do what I want now. Will continue to record what happens in this diary: my own 4½ Tatami Diary.

“Come on,” I said, and together we fled Ryokūdō through the doorway.

Terra incognita awaited.