Ma?l awoke to a light pressure on his chest and a flood of emotions burst through him. She is back, she is—His eyes opened wide and stared directly into a pair of bright green eyes. A stray cat! He jolted in surprise and looked around. Where was she, where… the truth stabbed mercilessly through the fog of his mind. He slumped back in the sofa, watching listlessly as the startled cat scampered away, out of the open window.

  He was alone again.

  The fever had run its course. His body was a well-oiled machine, courtesy of years of training and care, and his immune system assisted by the antibiotics had made short work of the infection. He was still a bit weak, but he felt light, comfortable even. Ma?l groaned at the realization. What did that matter now? She is gone. He stared at the black screen of the TV with empty eyes. Time passed slowly, each minute stretching into hours, but still marching on as he remained unmoving.

  He longed to see her face. It would be torture, but torture was something.

  After a few hours of starring at the dark screen, he reached for the remote and turned the TV back on. Her face filled the screen again, her eyes pointed at him, reproachfully. He was nothing, nothing but a man staring at a screen. She did not see him, she did not care. He could stretch his hand and reach for her but she wasn’t there. His fingers would meet the smooth glass and go no further. He knew, but reached anyway, bringing his head close, tracing the curves of her smile with his finger. Closer, her face disappeared into tiny cubes of light and he wept, sobs shaking his body. He slumped to the floor and curled into a ball.

  It was just too much, what was the point? He reached for the remote. He could still hear her voice. He pressed play once more and listened as she spoke. He couldn’t understand, his Japanese wasn’t good enough, but the sound of her voice soothed him. He wished he could remove all but her voice. Occasionally, he recognized a word, a phrase…

  “I’m dying.” she said

  “Me too.” Ma?l answered. He was quoting the line, but that didn’t make it any less true. He was dying. He had no reason to live. What did life matter now? She was gone and it was his turn. Time to go.

  Isn’t that the Japanese way? To exit life when it truly ended? Why live on? If he remained, he would seek her out, and destroy her happiness too. She deserved better, and he was just him, nothing more. Worthless.

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  The decision brought clarity and a surprising measure of peace. His life finally had a direction. He was headed into the abyss. Soon, he would see what was on the other side. He would face it and spit in the eyes of the Gods. He’d not let himself wither, waiting for the inevitable like a coward. He’d walk to the edge and jump on his own.

  He stood up, full of determination. This life was over. He had fulfilled all of his obligations, he owed nothing to anyone and he’d now walk out, his head held high.

  He looked at the mess on the floor and the sofa.

  Those were the last lose ends. He found a mop and cleaned the floor, tidied the sofa, and changed the bed sheets. They bore traces of blood, so he threw them in the bin and left a few thousand bahts on the mattress. It would be enough to buy new sheets.

  The house looked neat, just as it was when they arrived. He thought over his life, but it had been empty before, and now that Kaori was gone, it was empty forever.

  His phone rang. Noi.

  He owed him at least that much. He picked up and answered, willing his voice to sound calm.

  “Sawasdee Krap.”

  “Ma?l? Remember the attack yesterday? I caught two men in the corridors, looking for you. They claim to be part of Kaori’s fan club and they told me—”

  “Kaori is gone, she is back with her husband in Japan.”

  Saying those words felt like vomiting knives, but Ma?l managed to keep his voice steady, almost emotionless.

  “But that’s the thing, he—”

  “Thank you, Noi. Good bye.” Ma?l hung up with finality.

  The last loose end. The phone rang again furiously. Ma?l turned it off. It was time. He walked to the garage and found a coil rope. Brand new, still in the plastic. He grabbed a knife and a small stool and stepped out into the jungle. He climbed to the top of the hill and enjoyed the view below him, the setting sun painting the sky a soft shade of orange and purple, the sea rolling lazily down towards the horizon.

  He passed the rope over a tree branch and secured it to the trunk, making a loop on the other side. He stepped on the stool and admired the view. He had come to the end of the road and finally felt… nothing, he had lost and worldly matters no longer concerned him. He placed the rope around his neck, took a deep breath and stepped forward.

  ———

  Oroshi picked up the phone.

  “Is it done?” he asked.

  “Not quite. You’re going to laugh. He’s hanging himself. What do you want us to do? I can make the shot easily.”

  Oroshi looked at the phone with a grin. He had done that, with just a few words. Such was his power. An enemy, a brave enemy, tortured and killed himself at a mere wish of his!

  “No. Let him do it. His obedience is to be rewarded. Just cut him down and send me the parts I asked after it’s done.”