Parasite Eve (28 page)

    When Kiyomi came to,
everything was quiet.

    She was dreaming.

    It was the same strange dream
she had every Christmas Eve. A dream about her distant memories of wandering in
darkness.

    But the dream had evolved.
Kiyomi noticed elements that were different from the vision she had every year.

    She felt herself moving all
around. Her vision was vague, making it impossible to distinguish up from down.
And yet, she could feel, upon her skin, the current changing direction, moment
by moment. She was moving fast. Her strength surged and she felt like she could
go anywhere, traversing unimaginable distances. She realized she was happy
about this.

    She had no idea how much time
had passed. There was suddenly an odd turbulence in the current washing over
her body. Something was close to her. It was large and clumsy in its movements,
wriggling and swaying uncertainly.

    She remembered it. She had
come across it many times. Some of those times, she had attacked it. It
punctured easily, but on occasion it captured her.

    As she grew conscious of it,
a new impulse arose in her without warning. She had no idea what it was, where
it came from, or what it was trying to tell her. Before she could even notice
she’d burrowed into the other thing.

    It seemed surprised. But when
she shared her power with it, it accepted their coexistence. Inside it was
comfortable. Maybe she’d found her eternal nest.

    In her dream, Kiyomi wondered
what this feeling was, what it could possibly mean.

    But she didn’t know.

    She didn’t know what to make
of any of this.

18

    “First up’s you, Asakura.”

    Asakura stepped up to
Toshiaki, who passed her a pointer. She proceeded to the screen, manuscript in
her right hand and the pointer in her left.

    Toshiaki spoke as he pressed
the switch on his stopwatch.

    “Yes. Our first presenter is
Sachiko Asakura, whose topic will be “The use of retinoid receptors in the gene
induction of
2,4-dienoyl-CoA reductase
unsaturated fatty acid
β-oxidation enzymes.’ Asakura?”

    “Thank you, slide please.”

    There was a soft click and a
diagram appeared on the projection screen. Glancing at her manuscript, she
began.

    “I have come today to report
that we have successfully introduced clofibrate in rat livers and generated
unsaturated fatty acid B- oxidation enzymes in their mitochondria. By
activating nuclear receptor proteins with peroxisome proliferators, we have
established that retinoid receptors are a vital component in the induction of
these β -oxidation enzymes. For this experiment, we investigated ‘2,
4-dienoyl-CoA reductase,’ enzymes necessary for the β-oxidation of
unsaturated fatty acids. We cloned their genes and found that these genes are
governed by retinoid receptors. This is what I will be discussing today. Next
slide, please.”

    With another click, the
screen changed.

    Toshiaki listened
attentively, glancing now and then at the stopwatch face. All the professors
and most of the staff and students of their course were gathered in the small
seminar room. Though the fans were on, the curtains had been closed and the
lights turned off for the slides. The crowd made the room feel much more
claustrophobic than usual.

    It was five days before the
conference. Thinking it would make things easier on the presenters if they
practiced their speeches at least once beforehand, the professors had called
for a mock session. Assembling slides at the last minute was bound to cause
mishaps; writing up the presentations well in advance and giving a trial run,
on the other hand, helped reduce the stress for the first-timers.

    Asakura had completed her
slide diagrams much more quickly than Toshiaki had anticipated. Perhaps she’d
slaved at it and worked late hours; but no, this did not begin to explain the
speed with which she’d finished them. When asked how she’d pulled it off, she
simply smiled and didn’t answer.

    In any case, she seemed
well-prepared for her presentation, which put Toshiaki at ease. Asakura had
certainly been hustling more than ever, coming to the classroom early in the
mornings and working fervently until late at night without showing any signs of
tiring. She’d made Toshiaki wonder if he wasn’t getting too old in fact.

    Asakura continued without a
trace of hesitation. She accurately elucidated the various components of each
diagram with the pointer, capturing the audience’s attention whenever she
raised her voice to emphasize key areas. Her presentation had perfect
modulation. Toshiaki gazed at her profile with fondness. A researcher with
years of experience could not have given a finer presentation. Despite his
confidence in her, he never thought she’d be this good. In fact, she was
flawless.

    He suddenly realized
something that wasn’t appropriate to notice then and there. In recent days,
Asakura had become beautiful, beyond recognition almost.

    She wore the same rough jeans
and t-shirts she always did, but there was now a certain magnificence about
her. Perhaps it was because she’d changed her hair style. No longer tied back
in a pony-tail, her hair flowed loosely. Yet that couldn’t have been it. Her
expression had always been lively, but it was now complemented by a noticeable
refinement. The sparkle in her eyes, and her gestures, exuded confidence.

    “The aforementioned data show
how the enzyme in question is induced via clofibrate. It may be hypothesized
that many other enzymes for processing unsaturated fatty acids will exhibit the
same property. Their genomic cloning should further clarify the role of retinoid
receptors. That is all. Thank you very much for the slides.”

    The screen went blank and the
lights were flipped on. Toshiaki came back to reality and clicked the
stopwatch.

    “Fourteen minutes,
twenty-seven seconds.”

    “Was that okay?”

    Professor Ishihara nodded,
visibly satisfied. Asakura looked relieved. This was more like the young woman
Toshiaki was used to.

    “The time limit is fifteen
minutes?”

    “That’s right,” Toshiaki
answered.

    “I could not find a single
misspelled English word in your slides, and I think your explanations held up
well... So what did you all think?”

    Ishihara turned to the
students behind him, thereby cuing them to share any points of criticism
without hesitation.

    They all looked down and
avoided his gaze. Toshiaki suppressed a smile. Asakura’s perfect presentation
had thoroughly intimidated them.

    Ishihara waited to see if
anyone would speak up. Eventually, he nodded and asked the projector assistant
to show Asakura’s slides from the beginning.

    “Let’s all check once more to
make sure there are no mistakes.”

    Ishihara questioned Asakura
at length about each slide and listened carefully to her arguments. She
answered everything perfectly. Toshiaki listened in half-surprise. She had
really done her homework. He thought to jump in with some timely help if she
faltered, but there was no need. In the end, she showed no uneasiness, but
neither was there even a hint of arrogance. Her forthright responsiveness was
even pleasant. Without rushing her replies, she presented her points clearly
and in order, with a clear desire to convince rather than befuddle the
questioner. She referred to surprisingly recent data as she did so.

    “Yes, perfect. I see you’ve
been studying well,” said Ishihara at last, his voice filled with admiration.

    “Thank you very much.”

    Asakura flashed a smile that
was startlingly lovely.

    “This certainly puts a lot of
pressure on the next person, doesn’t it?” said Ishihara, which brought a laugh
from the rest.

    After the rehearsal was over,
Toshiaki returned to the lab.

    “Wow. I’m really impressed.
You even got the professor’s seal of approval.”

    Asakura seemed flattered, and
thanked him with a bow.

    “I guess all that’s left is
to memorize your notes. Well, you have until the day of the meeting to do that,
so don’t stress yourself out over it. If you have any worries, though, just let
me know and we can go over things the day before. And let’s write up an outline
you can take to the podium just in case.”

    “I think I’ll be okay...”

    “I don’t know, you’d be
surprised how easy it is to forget things up there. Comes with the territory.
But if you can, try to do it without notes.”

    “I’ll give it my best.”

    “By the way...” said
Toshiaki, by way of changing the subject, as he looked at her knee. “How’s your
leg?”

    “Oh, this?”

    Asakura laughed and tapped
her jeans with her fist. “It’s healing. I still have a bandage on it.”

    “Doesn’t it hurt?”

    “Yes, but I doubt it’ll even
leave a scar.”

    She was limping the day she’d
changed her hair. When he asked her about it, she claimed to have fallen on her
apartment stairs and scraped her knee. Her fingers were taped up as well.

    She’d brushed away Toshiaki’s
concern, saying: “Really, it’s nothing. Besides, it’s hard for me to keep my
balance anyway, being so tall and everything.”

    Toshiaki had been struck by
this comment; it was so unlike her. Until then, he’d never heard her make fun
of her own height. He’d been taken aback for a moment. But it was really just a
trifle, and he’d scrubbed the feeling of oddness out of his mind.

    “It should heal by the
conference, so please don’t trouble yourself about it. I’d look pretty silly
with a bandage under my suit skirt, don’t you think?” she said with a grin.

    Just then, a group of seniors
came into the room. One of them was holding a white box in his hands.

    “The professor congratulated
us on such a good rehearsal and bought a cake for us to celebrate. Please, have
some,” said the student proudly.

    “Say, this is rare. He must
really be in a good mood, thanks to all your hard work,” Toshiaki said as he
opened the box.

    “Looks delicious,” said
Asakura elatedly. “I’ll get some tea? Everyone grab a cup if you want some.”

    The tea was a welcome
diversion and Toshiaki took his time to enjoy it.

    “Hey, Asakura, that isn’t
your usual mug, is it?” said one of the students as he ate his cake. Toshiaki
had not noticed it until now, but the design on her cup was indeed different.

    “What happened to the old
one?”

    “Yeah, did you break it?”

    “I don’t know where it went,”
Asakura replied, enjoying the scent of her tea with a joyful smile. “I swear I
put it right over there. Let me know if anyone finds it, though.”

19

    SHE had surfaced, for the
first time. It had gone better than She ever could have hoped. Kiyomi’s spirit
had resisted a few times, yet, She had proven triumphant. To surface and to be
held as Herself in Toshiaki’s arms was incomparably more blissful than what She
could feel while still buried in Kiyomi. But She was not satisfied. This was
only the beginning.

    She knew that Kiyomi was
dreaming. Memories sometimes leaked out from Her and stimulated Kiyomi’s
nerves. Though She had been careful not to enlighten Kiyomi to Her existence,
on the twenty-fourth of December, the day Kiyomi was born, Her defenses were
never as effective. Every year, Kiyomi seemed sharper that one night.

    At last, the night before,
Kiyomi had glimpsed Her memory of entering the host. Kiyomi would probably
never understand what it meant, but it would not do to be careless. There was
the danger that she would tell Toshiaki; and while Kiyomi’s ignorance could be
counted on, Toshiaki would probably decipher the dream.

    At last, the time has come to
take action, She thought.

    It was time to renounce her
status as an amenable slave. From last night’s trial, She knew the necessary
preparations were now in order. She thought and Kiyomi’s body complied: a most
pleasant reversal of who was mistress, and who slave.

    The morning was calm and
quiet. The persistently cold weather had begun to fade, and for the first time
in a long while, a faint sunlight poured in through the bedroom window.
Particles of light passing through the net mesh curtains floated gently above
white bed sheets. Crystalized kerosene sparkled blearily in the heater.

    Hearing a low groaning at her
side, she looked in its direction to see Toshiaki’s back. His naked shoulders
moved slowly up and down with his breathing. She realized that she had slept on
Toshiaki’s bed. She touched his shoulder gently with her hand.