The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

Our afternoon at the Kōrakuen brought me to a
decision.
It was a trivial decision. If I was to wound Momoko
not in the flesh but in the spirit, then there was an
urgent need for another woman.
To make Momoko taboo was at the same time a
responsibility and a logical contradiction. And if my
carnal interest in her was the hidden source of my
rational interest, then my dignity was left with nothing
to stand on. I must wound her with the shining scepter
of “love that is free.”
To have another woman did not seem difficult. I
went to a go-go hall on my way home from school. All I
had to do was dance as I had learned to at the
houses of friends, whether skillfully or not did not
matter. I had several friends who had a healthy
routine. Each day after school they would spend an
hour or so alone at a go-go house before settling
down after dinner to studies for entrance
examinations. I went with one of them, and
persevered over Coca-Cola after the hour had
passed. A countrified girl with thick makeup spoke to
me, and I danced with her. She was not, however,
what I was after.
I had heard from my friend that there were certain to
be “chastity eaters” at such a place. One would