My sequel to Kokoro

Wrote this for my English class. It probably won't make sense to you unless you've read Natsume Soseki's Kokoro (or The Heart of Things). Hell, it probably won't make any sense either way. I'm not a very good writer, but i really am a sick bastard.


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I read the last lines of Sensei’s letter to myself several times, recalling his vivid life story. I tried to choke back my tears, but a few managed to slip through, and I immediately wiped it away, but not before it landed on the letter and blurred the characters. I looked up hastily, hoping no one had noticed. There were a few men who had indeed noticed and I felt my face flush, as they looked away, back towards their newspapers.
As soon as I turned back to Sensei’s letter, I felt their penetrating eyes on me again, but it did not matter. I hastily folded the damp letter and tucked it away into my pocket, and quietly hoped that Sensei would be all right. But in my heart, I knew he was already gone, and my father soon would be too.
When the train arrived at the station, I decided to go for a walk. I did not know where to go, but I simply walked. After an hour or two I found myself at the Zoshigaya cemetery where Sensei had gone to visit K’s grave. I too decided to visit K’s grave, now knowing of the man who lay beneath the earth there.
Something distracted me on the way to his grave. I looked towards the back of the cemetery and noticed an absence. I walked passed K’s grave to where the gingko tree once stood. All that remained now was upturned dirt.
I turned to one of the men working there and questioned him about it. The tree had been removed for it had intruded on some nearby graves. “I’m glad to see it gone, it was quite an ugly thing. Though, I didn’t mind the shade. At least now we’ll have more room for graves. This is a business, after all.”
I stared at him for a good while, before we both turned away. I walked out of the cemetery and made my way towards Sensei’s house.
I approached Sensei’s home and hesitated briefly. The front door was slightly open and I wondered who was inside. Curiosity getting the better of me, I entered Sensei’s home, and shut the door behind me.
Everything looked normal, as if Sensei’s death had not disturbed the rest of his home. I continued walking forward and my nostrils tingled. I smelled something that I couldn’t quite recognize. It did not smell bad; in fact I quite liked the smell. I heard noises from the kitchen and walked towards it.
“Dinner will be ready soon, but in the meantime please come join me at the table.”
The voice startled me. I did not recognize it. It had an unfamiliar accent, though was speaking Japanese. I turned and entered the dining room, to find a man sitting at Sensei’s place at the dinner table. It took me but a brief moment to recognize this man as the Westerner that Sensei had spent time with at the beach in Kamakura.
“Please, sit.” I hesitantly obeyed. “We were wondering what took you so long, though it did save us the trouble of keeping you busy ourselves.”
“Who are you?”
“That is of no matter. All will be explained, but after we eat.”
Sensei’s wife entered the dining room and placed two dishes in front of me. Both were very meaty, with little rice and vegetables. I looked at Sensei’s wife, and then at the Westerner. He gave me a look as if to tell me I had a choice between the two dishes. I looked at both and took in each of their scents. The one to my left reminded me too much of my home to pass up, while the one on my right gave me an uneasy feeling.
I moved the one on my left closer to me. “Is this your choice?” he asked, grimly. I nodded, and Sensei’s wife took the one on my right to the Westerner, with a small sniffle. She placed the dish in front of him, and then sat to the side with her head bowed. I waited for the Westerner to begin eating, but he did not.
“You must take the first bite.”
I looked at the dish, and although it looked very appetizing, I lied and said I was not hungry. I did not know this man. What if he had poisoned these dishes? He did not seem to be a very trustworthy man. My suspicions of this were confirmed when he pulled out a revolver. It was small enough for him to click back the hammer using only his thumb, yet big enough to be very intimidating. Having never looked down the barrel of a gun, the feelings that overwhelmed me were unfathomable. I decided to risk eating the meal.
It was very good, as I had anticipated. As soon as I started, the Westerner followed suit. We both ate, without saying a word to each other. After several minutes, we both finished, and Sensei’s wife cleared our plates. Not until she returned did I dare speak.
“What is this all about?” I inquired.
The Westerner stared at me for a long time. “Your sensei is dead. Your father is dead.”
“How do you know this?”
“I saw your sensei take his own life, and ordered my men to take your father’s.”
“What—why?”
“The only way to bring you back to Tokyo was to have your sensei take his own life. The only way to assure you stayed here was to take your father’s life. Your sensei and I are part of a global crime syndicate with aspirations of world domination. In recent years however, he has been shying away from his duties. It was hard to watch him take his own life having trained him myself, but we both knew it was necessary to get you here.”
“Why am I here?”
“You had to make a series of choices. You made the right choices up until this dinner. Your choice to return home to your dying father was anticipated by us, and was the correct choice. Your choice to return here, while less anticipated, was the correct choice. When my men on the train reported that you were on your way, Sensei smiled in front of me for the first time. While unanticipated, your trip to the Zoshigaya cemetery helped us prepare a great deal. We would have otherwise had to keep you secluded in another part of the house while we prepared your final test.”
“My final test was…this dinner?”
“That is correct. And you failed. You chose the dish that reminded you of your father, while you let me eat the one that reminded you of your sensei. That’s no coincidence. We were lucky enough to chop up both of there bodies and cook them into this delicious meal. Yes, I see by the look on your face that this is quite a shock to you.”
I felt my stomach turning.
“If you had chosen the dish containing your sensei, you would have started your training immediately. Unfortunately, you chose the dish containing your father. I’m sorry to say, but you are not what Sensei had hoped you would be. It was not pleasurable meeting you.”
The Westerner pulled the revolver on me, clicked the hammer back, and fired. The last thing I saw was a puff of smoke and a spray of blood intersect above the table.
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