Teito Monogatari:
The Tale of the Imperial Capital
Part 1: Great Spirit of Tokyo
Author: Hiroshi Aramata
Part 6: Those Who Command Shinigami
Chapter 25: In a Room at Sugamo Hospital
On an afternoon in February of 1909 (Meiji 42), sunshine poured through closed windowpanes, creating a certain lightness in the atmosphere of the hospital room. A teakettle whistled merrily on a small stove. Aside from the agitated white steam, all was still.
Moments ago, Tatsumiya Yukari had been led out by the hand by a nurse and returned to the convalescent ward.
Left behind were Mr. Narutaki, who had come at the request of her elder brother, Tatsumiya Yōichirō, to inquire about Yukari's condition, and the physician Morita Masatake, whose overflowing vigor made him seem every inch a man in the prime of his working life. The two sat facing each other across a large desk, narrowing their eyes against the brightness of the sunlight.
Morita Masatake held the title of chief physician at a psychiatric hospital and had an extraordinary interest in mental illness. A physician from the Imperial University's medical faculty, he had worked for a long time at Sugamo Hospital under Professor Shūzō Kure, who was a pioneer of psychiatric treatment in Japan.
Sugamo Hospital boasted Japan's greatest facilities and achievements in the treatment of the mind. Even after taking up his post elsewhere, Morita continued to visit Sugamo Hospital's laboratory in the capacity of a graduate student.
Terada Torahiko had introduced Mr. Narutaki to this psychiatrist, a young doctor who likely possessed the highest level of skill and knowledge available in the country. Mr. Terada had grown close to the Tatsumiya family through the secret Imperial Capital Renovation Plan, and the introduction was a natural one: Mr. Morita was from Kōchi, and so he and Mr. Terada were from the same home province.
Mr. Narutaki had been watching the winter sunlight through the windows for a while. He lowered his gaze and looked at the steam rising from the kettle. Dr. Morita lifted the kettle and poured the boiling water into a teapot, divided the tea between the two cups on the desk, and handed one to Mr. Narutaki.
Narutaki received the cup, blew on it, and brought it slowly to his lips. The hospital room was warm enough that Dr. Morita had rolled up the sleeves of his white coat.
"As for the patient's condition... This is a somewhat troublesome set of symptoms. I don't say this to frighten you, but Tatsumiya Yukari has a very strange illness."
Mr. Narutaki was not mentally prepared to hear this. He panicked for an instant and gripped the teacup too tightly. Hot tea scalded his lips. "Doctor, actually —"
"Now listen. Since the age of civilization and enlightenment began, there has been a tendency to lump together strange phenomena like ghosts, monsters, and fox possession, and blame anything and everything on mental illness. We should feel gladdened and grateful that the monsters and possessions of the past have come to be scientifically explained as particular mental workings in human beings. They say it is all a matter of the nerves. A storyteller by the name of Sanyūtei Enchō made up a ghost story called Shinkei Kasane-ga-fuchi. Do you know it? Shinkei is a pun on nerves, meaning that all ghosts are neuroses.
"However, in truth, mental illness is no simple matter. Mental health does not simply mean feeling well. Seeing ghosts, being possessed by a fox—these are mental illnesses. But we cannot simply shove patients into Sugamo Psychiatric Hospital. That may be progress compared with the old days, when lunatics were thrown into a cage, but this is not the kind of illness that can be completely cured like an ordinary disease by a doctor administering medicine or performing surgery."
"Doctor, as it happens, I am a student enrolled in Experimental Physics at the Imperial University. When I spoke with Professor Shūzō Kure, I heard that you conducted an investigation into inugami possession in Kōchi some years ago."
The doctor's eyes sparkled with interest. "Oh? I'm surprised you know about that investigation. It's true. In 1903 (Meiji 36), I returned to my hometown and conducted research into inugami possession for about a month. Even if I say inugami, you youngsters probably won't quite understand. According to our ancient legends and tales, an inugami is an animal about one foot long, something like a large shrew. When this thing possesses a human being, a state of delirium or stupor occurs, and in the end a personality transformation takes place. The symptoms of patients possessed by inugami are terrifyingly intense."
"Isn't inugami possession simply another name for the symptoms of madness?"
"Well, that is precisely the point. Tokyoites infected with civilization have a habit of dismissing anything strange as the behavior of a madman. But what you must keep firmly in mind is this: inugami possession does not appear after madness arises. Inugami possession is a cause of madness. In my hometown, I witnessed with my own eyes a completely normal person who, through prayer, brought about the symptoms of inugami possession. Those possessed by an inugami are suddenly struck by abdominal pain, severe dizziness, and auditory and visual hallucinations, depending on the case."
There was a silence. Then, "The workings of the human mind are truly strange," Dr. Morita said. "Faced with something as eerie as this, what on earth can science or medicine do?"
"Then you are saying Yukari's treatment is impossible?" Mr. Narutaki asked angrily.
"To be honest, I am not confident that I can help her. I will speak frankly." Dr. Morita set down his teacup. "I suffered from persistent neurasthenia until ten years ago. When I was small, I was shown a vividly colored painting of hell at a temple in my hometown, and from that moment I was tormented by a fear of death. I developed heart palpitations, became prone to headaches, and by my first year of university I had become a severe neurasthenia sufferer. I tried all kinds of medicines and treatments."
Mr. Narutaki leaned forward. "How did you overcome it?"
"In the end, it was self-salvation. I had convinced myself that I could could not move. My hometown sent no money for medical expenses. Before long, the world began to feel empty. On impulse, I decided to die, to spite my hometown. I threw away all medicines and treatment and studied in reckless desperation. I thought I would starve to death at my desk. But as I studied like a madman, the imaginary illness and the neurasthenia vanished as if they had never existed. After that experience, I resolved to establish a method of treatment through self-help."
"How can you encourage Yukari to help herself, then?"
Dr. Morita had been expecting this question, but he seemed unsure about how to answer it. He looked out the window at the bright sunshine sky and then said, "I do not believe she wishes to help herself. That's the problem."
Translator's Note
Shinkei means "nerves" and shuurei means "ghost," so this is not a very good pun. Shinkei Kasane-ga-fuchi means something like "nerves piled in a heap."
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