The Sea of trees. The Conclusion. Aikogahara (Jukai) The Suicide Forest.

When Yoko arrived at the entrance to the forest the sun had gone behind a cloud and a cold wind chafed at her face. She looked up at the sign. The first letter of Aokigahara had worn off and the remainder was concealed beneath the overlapping branches of the trees, but she had no doubt that this was the right place. She blundered through the bushes trying to find a smoother path. She had already twisted her ankle on the moss covered rocks that jutted up out of the ground. The wood was quiet and cool, a twilight world, and the tall trees seemed muffled in a conspiracy of silence. Delicate mushrooms bloomed in the mossy rocks and wild flowers were dotted among the foliage. No one would have guessed that a place of outstanding natural beauty could camouflage such a site of death and destruction.

She was aware of the rapid pounding of her heart. The blood thundered in her ears. Her breath came in laboured gasps and perspiration beaded her upper lip. She wasn’t fit. She never went to the gym with the other students from the English school, preferring the comfort of her car. It wasn’t enough to be thin. Irrelevant thoughts crowded into her mind, distracting her and sending her off course. Then, without warning, she went crashing to the floor and found herself struggling in swathes of sticky plastic tape, like a buzzing fly in a spider’s web. She remembered Noburo’s grisly explanation that the body hunters used the tape to mark the search areas. In that moment she felt helpless and without power, a victim of the forest. She was completely at its mercy.
Gazing up into the dense, greenery overhead, she saw a notice in red letters nailed to a trunk. ‘Please reconsider before you decide to die’.

The breeze sprang up and the leaves on the trees quivered and shook. They rattled in the branches and she fancied they were whispering secrets to each other. The twigs creaked and snapped. Yoko thought she heard voices keening on the wind and thought of the tales she’d heard about the Yurei, the spirits of the dead that could be heard howling through the forest.
No! Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. It's just an old wives’ tale. They don’t exist. She noticed the things from her bag were scattered over the forest floor. She scooped up her lipstick, purse and mobile phone and put them into her bag and got to her feet. Clutching the shoulder strap of her bag firmly she walked on through the trees. She picked her way over the lichen covered roots that twisted along the ground, trying not to look too closely at the bones and fragments of rotted fabric among the decaying mounds of leaves. She noted the remnants of leather wallets and the rusted keys gleaming dully from under the rich loam.

As she staggered along she glimpsed a body hanging from a tree in the distance, swinging gently in the wind. The weight caused it to spin slowly. She stared hard at it for a moment until she had satisfied herself it wasn’t Noburo. She stopped and rummaged in her bag and took out her mobile phone and keyed in his number but it was no use. She couldn’t get a signal. She glanced down and noticed a long length of string near her foot. Incongruously, she was reminded of Theseus unwinding his ball of twine in the Labyrinth of the Minotaur. She guessed it was someone’s strategy to ensure that they got out of the forest. She hoped they were successful and began to wonder if she would ever get out.

Her mind was still teeming with unbidden thoughts when she came upon Noburo. He was sitting with his back against a tree with a knife protruding from his stomach. The knife was firmly embedded in the bloody folds of his flesh. She reached out and touched him with her finger tip. His skin was ice cold. All life had left his body long ago. She knelt down and pressed her warm, moist face against his clammy, pale cheek. 'Oh Noburo,' she whispered. Then, as if in a grotesque reply, shockingly, the corpse fell forward and released a gush of air. Noburo coughed into her face, spraying her with tiny droplets of blood. She reared back in terror, her whole body quaking. She forced herself to remain calm, fighting back her revulsion. Then slowly and deliberately, she put a trembling hand on the handle of the knife and drew it out of his body…





Noburo-San

There is no easy way to say this but I am leaving you. I am going away with Andrew. We love each other. I am so sorry this sounds cold and hard, but our life together is at an end. I have nothing left to give you. The vessel that once carried us down the river of life is now empty and you must find a new path.
I will always care for you.

Yoko


My Dearest Yoko

I am staying at the Sheraton Hotel. I want you to come to me there as soon as you can. I believe that we only have one life and we must follow our hearts. I know you are the only woman with whom I can be truly happy. My room number is 9. Don’t hesitate. Just come. I am waiting for you.

Much love

Andrew


Dear Andrew

Don’t be angry with me but I cannot come to you. I am only a weak woman. I am not strong enough to leave Noburo. He needs me. I cannot go away with you as we planned. How can we be happy when others are miserable? I could not bear to be the one to part you from your son.

I hope one day you will be happy. Please try to understand.

Your own Yoko



My little Yoko

If I am successful, this will be my final letter to you. Do you remember when we were first married and Fujitsu sent me on all those courses so far away? I wrote to you nearly every day. I missed you so much. We were so young and carefree in those days. I still miss you. I miss the sweet Yoko who showed me so much love and affection.

When I saw the note from Andrew that dropped out of your book I knew I had failed you. I knew that you could not love me any more. I have lost you, I have lost everything and I am nothing. Do not think badly of me.

Goodbye Yoko.

Your very own

Noburo.

The Sea of Trees Part 4: The Fujiyama Hotel

Yoko was sick with nerves as they pulled up in front of the splendid hotel Fujiyama. She sat on in the car for a moment enjoying the spring sunshine on her face, glad of the anonymous shield of her dark glasses. A few more minutes grace. She marvelled at the sight of Mount Fuji rising grandly above the clouds. It has been a spiritual symbol of Japan since ancient times. It is Japan’s most sacred and holiest of mountains.
She was in awe of its serenity, its symmetry and its icy remoteness. She longed to be a speck on that snow-covered summit. She imagined herself standing on the snowy apex, gasping in the thin air that hurt to breathe. A solitary figure, eyes screwed up against the blinding whiteness and ears deafened by the thundering silence: the freezing wind savagely biting her cheeks. There, on that glittering peak one could experience complete freedom, a oneness with nature and perhaps, happiness of a sort.

Noburo leapt out of the car and took out their suitcases and began to hurry up the marble steps to reception, bumping the suitcases noisily on every other step. He suddenly became aware that she wasn’t behind him. He dumped the cases in front of the revolving doors with a clatter and went down to the car. He put his head inside the window, his face close to hers. Yoko drew back a little, but he didn’t seem to notice
‘What’s the matter? Don’t you like the hotel?’ he asked. Without waiting for her answer he continued.
‘I thought you’d love it. When we first married you talked of nothing else but going on holiday to Mt. Fuji together.’
Yoko turned her head away a little so as not to inhale his strong breath.
‘That was 30 years ago’, she murmured half to herself. Then, managing a weak smile, she got out of the car.
‘You’re right Noburo, it’s a beautiful hotel’. Fighting back the nausea and apprehension she climbed the steps to the glass and marble foyer but she did not permit him to take her arm. She simply could not bear him to touch her. She had asked him to book twin bedded rooms, explaining that she had a painful rash.

While Noburo checked them in at reception Yoko sat stiffly on an elegant cream sofa and amused herself watching the arrival of the guests coming in through the revolving doors. People fluttered inside the glass cubicle like butterflies caught in a jam jar; imprisoned briefly by the heavy, rotating glass doors before they were suddenly spewed out, dizzy and disoriented.

Some had arrived to visit the Cherry Blossom festivals which were just beginning. The hotel was busy with tourists from all over the world. She wondered at all the different languages being spoken. A group of Americans pressed eagerly against the reception counter, all calling out different requests at once to the receptionist.

'Miss! Miss! I need someone to take our bags up to our room immediately!'

'Hey miss! Can you tell us where to catch the touring bus tomorrow morning?'

'Excuse me miss, what time is breakfast?'

'Er.... miss! My little boy has just been sick on this gentleman's suitcase. Do you have a cloth?
Honey, there's no use getting mad! It's just one too many Hershey bars is all!'

'Miss' Kanawa kept calm and unruffled and bore all the mayhem with dignity and good humour. Always smiling gently and giving little respectful bows to everyone. Eventually they fell back, their needs now satisfied only to be replaced with a family of bewildered Spaniards who surged forward.
'Perdona Senorita!!! They cried in unison.

A tall well -dressed Frenchwoman with some expensive looking luggage came hesitantly forward.
'Bonjour mademoiselle. Je voudrai un chambre........'
****************************************
In the gleaming, brightly lit corridor the bustle of Reception was soon forgotten. Noburo slipped the card into the slot and pushed open the door of their room. Yoko let out a little gasp of surprise. The door opened onto a large, airy room with two enormous picture windows looking out over the forest to the snow-capped Mt Fuji. Bright mid- morning sunlight splashed onto the cream linen sofas with chocolate cushions artfully arranged. The gleaming wooden floors were covered in strategic places with thick beige rugs. A heavy oak coffee table piled with magazines stood between the sofas.
Yoko walked over to the huge picture window and gazed out over the tops of the trees to the lake, shimmering in the sunlight. In the distance she could see Mt Fuji, starkly white against a dazzling blue sky. Shining and omnipotent. A group of pink flowering cherry trees coming into blossom provided a natural arch on the terrace outside the sliding glass doors.

‘Oh Noburo! This is so very lovely!’ she breathed.
‘You like it? I’m so glad Yoko-san’ Noburo murmured. His expression of relief was concealed as he gave a low bow like the bell boy showing off an apartment.
She smiled. She had not expected such splendour, such beauty. She turned to Noburo. 'This is wonderful. It's more beautiful than I could have ever imagined' She wandered into the bedroom and noted the two single beds. Noburo came up behind her and tried to kiss her neck affectionately. She moved aside abruptly.
‘I’m going to try out that shower. The bathroom looks so inviting.’
He tried stifle his disappointment with a broad grin. Noburo, the smiling tiger.
'Fine, after your shower we could take a turn round the gardens and have tea on the terrace if it's not too cold.' he said.
Yoko put her head on one side coyly, her sleek black hair with its single grey streak, fell seductively over one eye 'Sounds like a good idea'. Then the door closed gently against all further communication. Noburo stood looking at the door for a moment then, with a sigh, he turned to unpacking the suitcase.