Paprika by Yasutaka Tsutsui Page A

sprawled on the sofa.
    “I’ll call Doctor Kuroi right away,” said Noda’s wife.
    Noda simply had to speak out now. Not only was Kuroi openly envious of Noda’s material opulence, but he was also a prattler. The truth would be sure to leak out.
    “No … not Kuroi …”
    “What?! But look at you!”
    “I’m not … ill … It’s … something else …”
    “What then?”
    “Neuro … neurosis …”
    “You mean … you mean mental illness?!” Noda’s wife had been bending over him, wiping the sweat off his brow, but now she stiffened and took a step back. “Why haven’t you told us before?!”
    Noda’s son Tarao had been trying to persuade the chauffeur to stay behind a little longer. He turned to his father. “What do you want us to do then?”
    Noda took a card out of his breast pocket. He’d put it there in readiness for this very eventuality. The card gave an “Emergency Contact Number”; it was Paprika’s.
    “You’ve even got an emergency contact number!” wailed the wife, now in tears.
    Torao moved to a corner of the room to make the call. After giving directions to the house, he returned to his father. “It was a woman who answered. She said she’d arrange it right away.”
    “ Arrange it right away ”?! So it couldn’t have been Paprika who’d answered the phone – could it? And did that mean the apartment wasn’t Paprika’s either? Noda’s chest heaved violently as he considered the implications.
    The chauffeur left the room, causing Noda to raise his voice once more. “Pay the … driver … pay the driver …”
    “What’s that? The driver? He’s already gone, dear. Don’t worry. The company always pays!”
    “No … To … keep him … quiet …”
    “I understand. Leave it to me,” said Torao, following the driver out.
    Paprika’s taxi pulled up an hour later. Noda’s attack had already subsided.

10
    Noda was standing alone on a deserted country road. He seemed very familiar with his surroundings; it must have been a scene from his childhood home in the country. From the far end of the road, someone was riding toward him on a red bicycle. Noda began to feel anxious. Before Noda could deny the existence of the red bicycle or the person riding on it, Paprika entered his dream.
    “Who is it?” she asked.
    “Don’t you know, Mari?” Noda replied in a boy’s voice. “It’s Sukenobu!”
    Noda seemed to have mistaken Paprika for his childhood sweetheart Mari.
    The person on the bike certainly looked like Sukenobu, as had the old literature teacher in the previous dream. But it couldn’t have been Sukenobu riding toward Noda on that country road. He was merely a mask, a substitute for one of Noda’s boyhood friends. One that Mari must also have known well.
    “No, it’s not Sukenobu!” Paprika said in the voice of a child. Noda started to feel agitated. “Look closer!” Paprika shouted, but it was too late. Noda had already changed the setting of his dream.
    He had entered his final REM sleep in the morning hours. Paprika had sat with him all night trying to unravel the darkest secrets of his psyche.
    When the call from the Noda household came through, Atsuko had only just returned from the Institute. She was tired, but agreed to go to Noda’s house right away. Of course, she needed time to change into Paprika; she had to alter her hairstyle, change her makeup, and, most troublesome of all, attach freckles under her eyes. They had to be positioned one by one with tweezers, stuck fast to ensure they wouldn’t come off when she washed her face. These changes altered her appearance completely and made her look younger. At the same time, they gave Atsuko an opportunity to prepare herself mentally for the transformation into Paprika.
    Atsuko had to be careful when leaving the apartment building. Ever since the press conference, a number of journalists had started to suspect that Paprika was in fact Atsuko Chiba. As a leading candidate for