"It's true," Kizu broke in. "He has been thinking about the end of the world for a long while. Remember, he's the child who destroyed the plastic model of a megalopolis he'd so carefully constructed. After he smashed that model to bits, isn't it understandable for him to have a vision of the destruc- tion of Tokyo? Though I suppose you could label that just a child's game."
"I'm sure it wasn't a game," the young woman answered Kizu, "since any kind of event-once it takes place in reality-leaves traces behind, espe- cially with children." He found himself staring at her waxlike ears as she turned and focused on Ikuo. "I understand you gave a lot of thought to the end of the world, but have you ever belonged to any group that actually dwells on the end time? Any Christian denominations, for example?"
"I've put out a few feelers."
"What to do you mean by that?" she retorted.
"I mean I don't belong to any religious group now, but that doesn't mean I haven't tried out a few."
Kizu expected the young woman to feel rebuffed and pursue the matter more, but she didn't. Instead she looked at Ikuo with interest and said calmly, "I'd say you didn't meet me again just out of nostalgia for something that happened fifteen years ago. I think you're seriously checking out Patron and Guide. How about visiting our office as a next step? Meeting Guide's out of the question now, but I'd be happy to introduce you to Patron. I know I'm repeating myself, but he's gone through so many trying experiences that I can't be too careful."
2
Ikuo and Kizu stood under the eaves of the restaurant, the zelkova tree dripping copiously, and said goodbye to the girl. She flipped open her um- brella, and the two men ran out into the pouring rain and made a dash for the nearby parking lot. If Kizu had been alone he would have had one of the waiters bring his car around, but he decided to keep pace with his young companion's way of doing things.
"It seems to me that having a religious leader's office in a residential area like this might make the residents upset enough to force him out- not the old-time residents, maybe, but the nouveau riche. But she seems pretty carefree."
Ikuo said this as they drove past a crowded intersection, hemmed in by a bank on one side and a train station on the other, and caught sight of the girl and her practiced dancer's gait.
"Maybe it's because they're not holding any religious activities there now," Kizu speculated. "She said they were in the planning stages of a new movement. When this so-called Patron and Guide were involved in the scan- dal where they apostatized, they did have their headquarters downtown, as I recall. I remember reading about it in The New York Times. After they re- nounced their faith they must have wanted a quiet place to live. They call it an office, but apparently it's also their residence."
Two days before-to the kidding of his apartment's super, who chided him for his pointless faithfulness to the American economy-Kizu had pur- chased a brand-new Ford Mustang, the same car he drove in the States, and had promised to let Ikuo do the driving, but since he wasn't used to a steer- ing wheel on the left, today Kizu took the wheel. Besides, Kizu figured that part of Ikuo's forwardness at lunch was the wine talking.
As they headed toward Shibuya, Kizu asked Ikuo about something he hadn't quite understood during his conversation with the girl.
"As I explained earlier, Ikuo, I really do believe you've been thinking about the end of the world ever since you were a child. And that what hap- pened fifteen years ago is not unrelated to that.
"What strikes me as odd, though, is that you don't seem to recall much about the Somersault incident ten years ago. I read about it in the papers in the United States, so it must have been big news in Japan. The Times said it was widely reported on Japanese TV, and that Patron's remarks on televi- sion also played a major role."
"At the time it was called the Church of the Savior and the Prophet,"
Ikuo said. "I realized today when I was talking with that girl that I heard about it through the media."
"Then why didn't you put out feelers, as you put it, to that church?
Because it wasn't that well known before the leaders' renunciation?"
"For me, at least, it wasn't," Ikuo said. "I first heard of it when the lead- ers publicly announced they weren't saviors or prophets after all, and every- thing they'd preached was a bunch of bull. I watched the reports afterward that made fun of them and just felt contempt for people who'd do what they did. I really wanted to know what mankind should do, faced with the end of the world, and-I don't know-perhaps I felt betrayed."
Kizu glanced at Ikuo's face. His tone of voice indeed contained a hint of a grudge.
So what about the young lady? Seeing her after fifteen years-"I was surprised she was just as I remembered her," Ikuo said, his voice now calm. "It was like looking at your painting; her eyes were still like faded India ink, her mouth still open as if that were the correct way to breathe."
"Ha! She does seem to like to keep her mouth open, doesn't she. And her eyes!" Kizu said, as if ever the artist, continuing the sketch. "When they look at you they turn even darker."
"I also had a feeling of déjà vu, as if I knew exactly how she would turn out when she grew up."
Kizu understood exactly what he meant. Déjà vu neatly summed up his own feelings when he met Ikuo again and discovered he was the young boy from so long ago.
"She's definitely unique, isn't she?" Kizu said. "I knew that the first time we talked on the phone. Her job-her lifestyle choice, I guess you'd say-is pretty extraordinary, too."
"Do you think she believes in the new teachings of that old leader who did a Somersault?" Ikuo asked. "For the sake of her dance, even though he hasn't restarted his religious movement yet?"
"Are you going to accept her challenge and go meet this Patron?"
"I haven't really thought about it," Ikuo said. "First of all, I really don't know much about this Somersault."
"Shall I give a little lecture, then, based on what I know from The New York Times? The media over here treated the leaders' recantation entirely as a scandal, and I think that's what you remember. The Times correspondent, though, was really fascinated by the story. The religious group had been founded by two middle-aged men. One of them formulated their basic doc- trine based on his mystical experiences. Over time he refined this. The sec- ond man's job was verbal expression of the mystical experiences the first man had. He was also the one who took care of the day-to-day running of the church.
"The Times correspondent reported on their church for a year. He got to know the two leaders well; he's the one, in fact, who dubbed them Patron and Guide. I imagine he used these names because calling them Savior and Prophet would have provoked some serious negative reactions from his American readers. After the Somersault the two of them adopted these names themselves; they weren't fond of their earlier names, anyway.
"Anyhow, just around the time the correspondent was wrapping up his reporting, the Somersault incident occurred. What happened was that the two leaders negotiated with the authorities to inform on some potentially danger- ous activities of a radical faction within their church.
"It was on a much smaller scale than Aum Shinrikyo, but the research facility they owned in Izu became the focal point of the radical faction's ac- tivities, the cornerstone of which was their plan to occupy a nuclear power plant. One of the people at the research center had a PhD in physics. They wanted to turn a nuclear plant into an atomic bomb to force the leaders' teach- ings on all Japanese, or at least to preach the need for universal repentance now that the end of the world was drawing near. Or maybe by blowing up two or three nuclear plants they felt they could make everyone experience how very near the end of the world was. Their entire plan for repentance was based on this. Radical political groups all have the same basic idea, don't they- pushing the country into crisis? But here the target was nuclear power plants.