To the Most Exasperating Woman I Have Ever Known (cont.) (August 27-September 15)

August 27

To: Her Ladyship Ōtsuka Hisako

Greetings, milady.

I hope that the last few days of summer find you well, as the last unfettered vestiges of summer vacation are swept away. Schoolchildren shrieking with laughter at the pool, middle schoolers feeling the stirrings of first love, high schoolers bashfully performing folk dances at the beach, college students whose brains are evaporating in the pursuit of shameless revelry—all tremble in despair at the imminent end of summer vacation.

All things, no matter how enjoyable, must come to an end; all homework, no matter how far you put it from your mind, must come due. If the concept of summer vacation did not exist, when would our youth have cause to stop in the midst of their slovenly existences to ponder the callous passage of time?

One can only truly appreciate summer vacation at its demise.

And so too it was for your reign of terror.

Ever since I joined the lab as a senior, and even after I was dispatched to the Noto-Kashima Marine Biological Laboratory, you have put me through many trials and tribulations. You are a living legend: where once your power was second only to that of the professor, it now perhaps eclipses his. But with your ascent your arrogance became outrageous, and your abuses of power grew flagrant.

Obey your superiors, conform to your betters, keep your nose clean: those were my mottos, and so for many a year I bore the unbearable and gave you my obedience. When you told me to cross the Kamo River, I crossed the Kamo River; when you asked me to make a liquor run, I ran out to the store, and if it happened that I bought the wrong brand I would make the trip again. When you needed bamboo for Tanabata, I snuck into the botanical garden and got yelled at by the watchman. Ah, the bittersweet memories spin through my head like a revolving paper lantern!

But even the meekest mouse will bare its teeth when cornered.

I am writing this letter at the Jane coffee shop in the bowels of the Kintetsu Mall at Kyoto Station. While you were out going wherever you were going last Friday night, I snuck into the lab.

Have you looked at your desk yet?

Notice anything missing?

Perchance, the computer containing your master’s thesis?

I think you get the point.

I hereby claim responsibility for this act. If you ever want to see your computer again, you must swear to obey these conditions three:

1. Thou shalt not use MORITA ICHIRŌ’s name in vain
2. Thou shalt pray twice a day in the direction of MORITA ICHIRŌ, once in the morning and once at night
3. Thou shalt treat MORITA ICHIRŌ to Neko Ramen whensoever He pleasest (in perpetuity)

Even the most amorous couple must one day part; even the oldest friends must go their separate ways; even the quietest, most one-sided crush must come to an end. As the Tale of the Heike states: the arrogant do not long endure, they are like a dream one night in spring; the bold and brave perish in the end: they are as dust before the wind.

Empress Hisako’s reign of terror will be no different.

This is what you get for leading me on about Ibuki. Consider yourself served.

Have a blessed day,

Morita Ichirō

August 28

To: Ms. Ōtsuka Hisako

READ ASAP

When I got back to the Noto-Kashima Marine Biological Laboratory I discovered that my computer and research notes had gone missing! But how, and why? I asked that slavedriver Taniguchi about the lost notes, and he said, “You mean the notes you were supposed to hold dearer than your own life?” He looked as if he was about to drag me to the shore and hold my head beneath the waves until I stopped moving. I managed to hold him off for the day, and upon my return to my apartment in Nanao I discovered in my mailbox your note claiming responsibility.

When did you come here? And what could possibly bring you out all this way?

That reminds me. As I was on the Thunderbird Express on my way back from Kyoto, I felt a chill go down my spine just as the train was entering Fukui. Maybe that was you passing by on the opposite track. What a crossing of paths! And what an incredible coincidence that we both planned the exact same thing!

The situation is urgent. For you this is just a short delay to your thesis completion, but without those notes for my ongoing experiments all I can do is roll around like an armless, legless daruma. It throws all the experiments I’m scheduled to start into jeopardy. How could you do such a horrible thing? You’re inhuman; your heart is made of stone. You need to start thinking about how your actions impact other people.

I called you a little while ago but you didn’t pick up. Do you really hate me that much? How could you do this to such a kind, pure, innocent boy like me?

I demand you return my computer and research notes at once. I’m not kidding. Until then, you can kiss your computer goodbye.

Hurry it up.

Sincerely,

Morita Ichirō

September 4

To: The Empress of Darkness

Salutations. I know now why you haven’t been answering my calls.

But frankly you’re completely misguided. Yes, I am in epistolary bootcamp. Yes, I declared that I would polish my writing skills and start a company ghostwriting love letters. Of course I would like nothing more than to follow through. I would certainly like to be able to make any woman on Earth swoon with a stroke of my pen. But why should I be forced to deal with everything through letters just because I said I would? Who was it that came up with the ludicrous notion that a man must keep his word? Was it the prime minister? The president of the United States of America? I am a man, not to toot my own horn. Even so, I have never followed through on anything in my life. “Following through” is not in my vocabulary. Now is not the time to be talking about such things. I need to get my experiments back up and running!

My computer and notes contain incredibly valuable data, data that could transform this dying planet into a thriving, beautiful home and secure a bright future for all of humanity. Even as I pen this letter, intelligence agencies and secret scientific syndicates are hot on my trail: that’s how important this data is. I’ve even heard it said that my research could very well revolutionize the face of science itself. Come, paradigm shift! Well, paradigm shift or no, it’ll at least lead to my graduation, and that makes it important enough for me.

I ask you: do you intend to plunge the earth into a new dark age? And what of my future— do you intend to throw that into darkness as well? Only a fiend would do that, thou demon, thou scourge.

I was able to salvage some of my data and notes, and with a little supplementary data provided by Taniguchi (who it turns out does have a heart after all) my research has been limping along, but this can’t go on much longer.

Lately I swear I can detect a trace of sympathy in Taniguchi’s attitude. He doesn’t get mad at me anymore when I screw up; all he says is “Don’t worry about it, cherry boy,” which for him practically sounds like he’s trying to cheer me up. Sometimes he even gives me a piece of mochi ice cream. I’m starting to miss his constant drill sergeant barking. Knowing that he’s only being nice because he’s given up on me is painful. It’s like he’s saying that it’s not worth spending any effort on me because I’m just going to mess things up, no matter how hard I try. I’ve never been so humiliated. At long last, my pride has been wounded.

That’s why I need to produce some results, no matter how insignificant. I need to prove to Taniguchi that even if I’m a worthless scrub, I’m a worthless scrub who at least does what he’s supposed to. And that’s why I need my computer and notes back.

Starting to make sense? I’m finally hunkering down and getting serious. I’m not going to get a second chance. Without my stuff I’m in real trouble.

Don’t you want your computer back so that you don’t have to rewrite your entire thesis from scratch? Let’s stop this ridiculous game of chicken. This is pointless. We both have better things to do with the limited time that we have.

Summer vacation has to end sooner or later, and so do our student days. More accurately, we have to end those days ourselves, no matter how much we wished they could go on forever.

Yours,

Morita Ichirō, the shining hope of humanity

September 10

To: Ms. Ōtsuka Hisako

The heat of summer’s end this year is unforgiving, almost as unforgiving as the conundrum I have been thrust into.

I read your letter, and to your demands I say only this:

NUTS!

However, I am willing to withdraw my own demands. I believe our interests align. You need to recover your computer: do you really think you’re in any position to lay more absurd demands on me? If this drags on much longer, I’ll never be able to go back to Kyoto, and you’ll never be able to graduate. No one wins!

The content of my research notes hardly concerns us right now. I was simply practicing writing love letters for my startup in between experiments. They were written as part of my business plan, not with a specific recipient in mind. It’s because of my god-given talent that they read so much more realistically than your average practice letter. They’re certainly not real drafts of letters to Ibuki, I assure you.

Did you take my notes with you? Or did you hide them somewhere here in the laboratory? Surely you didn’t throw them into the ocean. Please, just tell me where they are.

No, I’m afraid I can’t tell you where your computer is first. Without first securing a guarantee that you’d return my own computer and notes in exchange, I’d just be left holding the bag.

You tell me where my stuff is first, then I’ll tell you where yours is.

There’s no guarantee that I’ll hold up my end of the bargain, you protest. But I can promise you that that won’t happen though, because I am a fine upstanding citizen. I’ve never told a lie in my life. Cross my heart, hope to die.

Let’s put an end to this pointless, childish squabble.

Truthfully,

Morita “Saint” Ichirō

September 15

To: Ms. Ōtsuka Hisako

I received your letter.

I’m glad that you’ve seen reason. Indeed, a wise choice. I knew you had it in you.

At last, my beloved computer and notes with which I have shared the ups and downs of the last six months are back in my possession. I never would have guessed that they were hidden inside Noto-Kashima Station. What would I have done if some stranger had taken them? You need to think your actions through.

Now I can brush aside Taniguchi’s pity, rededicate myself to brightening the future of humanity through my research, and really make something of myself. My triumphant return to Kyoto is not far away.

But if you think that your evil deeds have been wiped from the slate, you’ve got another thing coming. I spent the last two weeks in great distress because of you. Time is money, and I lost out on a fortune. That loss doesn’t go away just because you’ve told me where to find my computer and notes. Therefore, I won’t be telling you where your computer is just yet. Serves you right!

It’s a dog-eat-dog world—might makes right—no one to blame but yourself—etc etc. I’m actually disappointed: the jaded person you are, I thought you’d know better.

If you ever want to see your computer again, you must swear to obey these conditions three:

1. Thou shalt not use MORITA ICHIRŌ’s name in vain
2. Thou shalt pray twice a day in the direction of MORITA ICHIRŌ once in the morning and once at night
3. Thou shalt treat MORITA ICHIRŌ to Neko Ramen whensoever He pleasest (in perpetuity)

Say what you like about me. Sticks and stones and all that.

At long last, I’ve finally beaten you. This calls for a toast: To sweet, sweet victory.

From the strategist by the sea