No Longer Human ( PDFDrive )

77
Kabuki Theatre or even to a cafe without any guidance
from Horiki. Inwardly I was no less suspicious
than before of the assurance and the violence of
human beings, but on the surface I had learned bit
by bit the art of meeting people with a straight
face—no, that's not true: I have never been able to
meet anyone without an accompaniment of painful
smiles, the buffoonery of defeat. What I had acquired
was the technique of stammering somehow,
almost in a daze, the necessary small talk. Was this
a product of my activities on behalf of the movement?
Or of women? Or liquor? Perhaps it was chiefly
being hard up for cash that perfected this skill.
I felt afraid no matter where I was. I wondered
if the best way to obtain some surcease from this
relentless feeling might not be to lose myself in the
world of some big cafe where I would be rubbed
against by crowds of drunken guests, waitresses and
porters. With this thought in my mind, I went one
day alone to a cafe on the Ginza. I had only ten yen
on me. I said with a smile to the hostess who sat beside
me, "All I've got is ten yen. Consider yourself
warned."
"You needn't worry." She spoke with a trace of a
Kansai accent. It was strange how she calmed my
agitation with those few words. No, it was not simply
because I was relieved of the necessity of worrying