14

The inn at Hata Spa was an old building. It jutted out over the river from one side of the gorge, offering little scope for expansion even if guest numbers were to increase dramatically. In fact, the inn was so cramped that it had no banqueting room, and larger parties had to be held in three adjoining rooms with the sliding partitions removed. As one of the rooms protruded over the river from the end of the building, the party venue was inevitably L-shaped.

It was five o’clock in the afternoon. All the sliding screens along the veranda had been left open to let the cool river air flow in. Guests with cheeks reddened after a dip in the spa bath, and all dressed in matching cotton kimonos, filed in to take their places at the party; food already awaited them on low tables in front of their floor cushions. The seat of honor was near the tokonoma alcove in the corner of the L-shaped room.

Hata Spa in the Gorai mountains, part of the Echigo mountain chain, was about four hours by bus from the center of Niigata. Tatsuo Noda had left Tokyo that morning with a group of five men. One of them was Namba, Manager of the Third Sales Division. He was responsible for sales of the Vegetable, the new eco-friendly vehicle that was about to be put on the market. Besides Namba, Noda was also accompanied by sales staff and two section managers in charge of technology and parts.

The launch party was hosted by the owners of exclusive dealerships in Niigata. The following day, everyone except Noda and Namba would stay behind in the city to tour the dealerships and explain maintenance matters to their sales personnel, mechanics, and office staff.

The two section managers were last to appear at the party venue. They’d forgotten to empty their bowels before leaving home that morning, and had suffered stoically through the jolting four-hour ride in the bus. On their arrival at the inn, they had immediately rushed to the toilets, there to remain for an inordinately long time. That had made them late in taking their bath. To make matters worse, they’d had to wash their hair, as the windows on the bus had been left open and their heads had been coated in sand. All of which further delayed their appearance at the party.

“Sorry! Sorry!” they called as they finally entered the party room, their freshly washed hair gleaming with caked-on pomade supplied by the inn. And so the party could begin.

After a quick soak in the spa bath, Noda had taken a nap in his room until it was time for the party. He was suffering from fatigue. Out of concern for Paprika, he hadn’t really wanted to come. But the President had asked him to make a special effort for Niigata, and there had been no way out of it.

With the party in full swing, the sliding doors between the room and the veranda were all closed. The night breeze was bad for the health, came the explanation. As fluorescent strips shone brightly in the ceiling, the informal party entertainment started in the wide area by the tokonoma, near Noda’s seat. Several of the Head Office sales staff had eccentric and bizarre talents, but the Niigata dealers were men of diverse accomplishments too. In the end it was impossible to tell which was the host and which the guest. Some of those present would grow quite morose if they weren’t allowed to perform; letting them perform was almost part of the service.

One middle-aged dealer transformed himself into a Chinaman, with an upturned bowl on his head, a long pipe in his hand, and his jacket worn back to front. The party guests were all clutching their stomachs and helplessly rolling around with laughter at his antics when a serving girl came stumbling in from the corridor. With hair wildly disheveled and the hem of her kimono hitched up to her thighs, she ran though the party room as if something were chasing her.

“R-Run! Run for your lives!!” she screamed as she clung to the Chinaman’s legs.

The party guests whooped and laughed raucously. They assumed it was part of the entertainment.

“Attagirl!”

“Very convincing!”

At first, Noda too thought the girl’s entrance was part of the show. But when he saw her close up, her appearance was far too convincing for it to be an act. Her face and lips had turned mauve and her whole body was shaking. She seemed dumbstruck with terror.

“What’s the matter?” Noda shouted as if scolding her.

She turned her strained face toward him. “It’s a t-t-tiger!” she shrieked. “A tiger’s on the loose!!”

A tiger in a Japanese inn. Everyone fell about laughing again.

But Noda wasn’t laughing. He knew this was no joke. For a tiger had appeared in his dream a little while earlier. Coming to an old-style inn had reminded him of Toratake, and as he took his after-bath snooze, he had dreamt of a tiger. And now that tiger had become real, due to the residual side effects of the DC Mini.

Surely not?! he thought. Yes, he’d advised the others to “forget about distinguishing dream and reality,” but he’d only meant that in reference to Paprika’s world.

Noda shook his head. He’d read a newspaper article about a man who kept a pet tiger. Maybe the tiger had escaped.

The laughter subsided somewhat. The guests had started to realize that the girl’s terrified appearance was not an act. Noda exchanged looks with Namba. “Where is this tiger?” asked Namba.

“At the foot of the stairs, c-c-coming this way!” the girl stammered in terror.

“Oh, pack it in!”

A man sitting near the corridor stuck his head out and peered into the darkness. He said nothing but turned back into the room, shoved his food table to one side and hopped forward on all fours like a frog. While the others were still recovering from the sudden violence of his movement, a tiger leapt into the room from the corridor, as if the man’s hopping had sparked its momentum. It was not a domestic cat, nor a stuffed toy. It was a huge, adult tiger. Unlike the tigers seen on TV or in cages at the zoo, this one was so big that all the guests firmly believed they were looking at a real, live tiger.

Its excitement and hunting instincts stirred by the panicking party guests, the tiger bounded over to the nearest man and duly sank its teeth into his neck, as if to prove its prowess.

Guests started shrieking and yelling as they pushed open the sliding doors, scrambling to vault over the railings onto the riverbed. Those in the room jutting out over the river fought with each other to tumble into the waters below. Some were so rigid with terror that they couldn’t move. One clung fast to the alcove post and tried desperately to stand, another sat on the tatami floor and twisted his body effeminately as he tried to shuffle out on his backside. Some fled at the last minute, some clung to the feet of others who were escaping, some rested their backs against the wall and did nothing but spasmodically flex their outstretched legs.

A young sales employee from Head Office sat there staring blankly as blood spurted from the neck of the tiger’s first victim. The tiger left its immobilized prey and came for more, making the sales employee its second meal.

The serving girl clung to the legs of the Chinaman as he fled, dragging her all the way out onto the veranda. Noda and Namba looked on from their seats with dazed expressions. They were by now the only ones left.

“Sh-shall we get out?” Namba suggested, placing a hand on Noda’s shoulder and rising on legs that shook to the point of convulsion.

The tiger, its mouth covered in fresh blood, had ripped a chunk of flesh from the unfortunate employee’s windpipe. Reacting to Namba’s movement, it turned to glare at them.