For the last time. Through the Occupied City, we shuffle –
From the Shiinamachi Station, we shuffle. In the sleet. For the last time. Up the road, we shuffle. Through the mud. For the last time. To the Teikoku Bank. The Teikoku Bank that is no longer a bank…
For the last time. We slide open the door. The door that is no longer a door. For the last time. We take off our shoes. Where are our shoes now? For the last time. We put on our slippers. Where are our slippers? For the last time. We sit at our desks. Our desks that are no longer, no longer our desks …
For the last time –
Among the papers and among the ledgers, we wait for the bank to open. For the last time, on this last day, 26 January 1948 –
We watch the hands of the clock reach half past nine. For the last time. The bank opens and the day begins. For the last time. We serve the customers. For the last time. We write in ledgers.
For the last time –
In the glow of the lights, in the warmth of the heaters, we hear the snow turn to sleet, the sleet turn to rain, as it falls on the roof of the bank. And we wonder if today the bank will close early. We wonder if today we will be able to leave early, to go back to our homes, back to our families. Because of the weather,
because of the snow –
But the snow has turned to sleet, the sleet has turned to rain, and so the bank will not close early today and so we will not be able to leave early today, we will not be able to go back to our homes,
back to our families –
So we sit at our desks in the bank, in the glow of the lights, in the warmth of the heaters, and we watch the hands of the clock and we glance at the face of our manager, our manager sat at his desk at the back; we know Mr Ushiyama, our manager, is not so well. We can see it in his face. We can hear it in his voice. We know he has severe stomach pains. We know he has had these pains for almost a week. We all know what this could be; we know it could be dysentery, we know it could be typhoid. In the Occupied City,
we all know what this could mean –
In the Occupied City, we know
this could mean death, death –
But he will survive this,
he will live through
this…
For the last time. We watch the hands of the clock reach two o’clock and we see Mr Ushiyama rise from his desk at the back, his face is white and he holds his stomach. For the last time. We watch Mr Ushiyama bow and we listen to Mr Ushiyama apologize to us all. For the last time. We watch as Mr Ushiyama leaves early –
And we all know what this could mean –
We know this could mean death –
But he will survive, he will live. Back in his home that is still his home, back with his family that is still his family …
But we do not leave early today. We do not go back to our homes, back to our families. We sit at our desks, in the glow of the lights, in the warmth of the heaters, and we go back to our customers and back to our ledgers. And we listen to the sound of the rain –
And we watch the hands of the clock –
We watch the hands of the clock reach three o’clock and we watch as the bank closes its doors for the day. Among the stacks of receipts, we collate the day’s transactions. For the last time. Among the piles of cash, we tally the day’s money. For the last time. And then we hear the tap-tap upon the side door. For the last time –
We look up at the hands of the clock –
For the last time:
It is now twenty past three on Monday, 26 January 1948 –
Twenty past three, in the Occupied City –
The knock now upon the side door –
Twenty past three and he is here –
Our killer is here.
We watch as Miss Akuzawa gets up to open the side door for our killer. You say he is forty-two years old. Our killer presents his name-card: Yamaguchi Jirō MD; Technical Officer; Ministry of