Translation: Darkness 06 — Asakusa View Hotel Arc

2026/03/05 thu
闇06章：翻訳Cloud

ありがとうございます。読みます。
Reading 闇06 source text

読みました。翻訳に入ります。
ファイルを作成しました, コマンドを実行しました, ファイルを読み取りました

闇06、完了です。
翻訳上の処理メモ：

特記箇所：

• 柴チンのスピーチ→ 原文の間（ま）をそのまま英語で再現。"……or so I would like to say" のタイミングで会場が沸く構造を維持。

• カクテル「ミューテーション」の説明→ プースカフェ・スタイルの技術解説は専門用語を括弧注釈で補足。

• 「パンプラムース」→ フランス語でグレープフルーツの意と補足。ピエールのキャラクターが生きる場面。

• 「取れてると落ち着く」→ Being close to you…… it calms me down. 原文の余韻をそのまま。

• 扁桃腺の腫れ→ tonsils、医療用語として正確に処理。

• 日本生命の件→ 状況の皮肉（仕事が原因の入院なのに自己負担）が英語でも伝わるよう文脈を明確に。

06章は05章より密度が高かった——久美子との顛末、浅野美嘉との別れ、ピエールとの交流。人が来ては去っていく章でした。

Darkness 06 — Asakusa View Hotel Arc

 
*Asakusa, Tokyo. 1995–1996. Age 23–24.*
 
There was one thing I became aware of working at Asakusa View Hotel.
Compared to the other staff, I was absolutely lacking in experience.
 
Our starting lines were different to begin with.
Of course there was a gap.
 
So what could I do to close it?
 
Think of myself as a bartender twenty-four hours a day — keep thinking about hospitality even in my private life.
That was the only way.
 
When my paycheck came in, I bought good bottles — several types of liqueur, gin and vodka as bases — and set up my room so I could make cocktails there too.
I ordered books on alcohol and decided to study outside of work as well.
 
All Japan Pro Wrestling had fallen apart and I had no goals left.
By throwing myself into learning about alcohol, I could forget everything I didn't want to think about.
 
Why push this hard?
Simple.
I was no longer based at Green Plaza Jōetsu Hotel, where I had felt at ease.
So I needed a place where I belonged.
 
For that, I couldn't afford to be the kind of person who dragged people down.
More than anything, I couldn't stand the idea of people thinking — so that's what someone from All Japan Pro Wrestling amounts to.
Every action I took, every attitude I showed, could end up bringing shame on All Japan Pro Wrestling……
 
From time to time I visited the lounges of other hotels to observe their service style, how their systems worked, how their interiors were laid out.
It was a complete start from zero, but the days felt full.
 
Around this time, mobile phones were gradually spreading — more and more people were carrying them.
I signed up for an IDO（a Japanese mobile carrier, later absorbed into au/KDDI）mobile phone, which had lower initial costs than DOCOMO.
 
I seemed to be the only person at Belvedere with a mobile phone.
With no one else to call, after work I would ring Bōzu-san and we would talk about how things were going for each of us.
Bōzu-san had moved to a place called Shin-Maruko — he had a girlfriend named Yūko-san and had moved in with her.
 
Around this time, on days off I would often go visit my cousin Wa-chan's place.
Wa-chan's classmate Takeda took a liking to me, and with our shared love of games we gradually started hanging out together.
 
But this Takeda, two years my senior, was a game fanatic beyond all reason — spending most of his paycheck on arcade game circuit boards.
Spoiled by nature, on his days off he would call me and his other classmates over to his place and spend the entire day playing fighting games. That was it.
 
Playing games silently until night, then going to Gusto（a family restaurant chain）or Matsuya（a beef bowl chain）at the end for a meal.
Even within the same Kawagoe, his neighborhood of Imafuku and my Matsue-chō were quite far apart.
From my family home it was over an hour on foot — not somewhere you could realistically get to without a car.
 
I could go when the family car was free.
But when the car wasn't available it was a stretch.
Even when I explained that, Takeda would say: you made a promise, so get here by bus or bicycle — a completely unreasonable demand.
 
Senior or not, I was gradually getting fed up.
Going there meant nothing more than playing games and eating on the way home.
 
Around this time there were two seniors I knew, Kanda-san and Akiyama-san — former colleagues of Bōzu-san's and the same age as him — who were in a similar situation to me.
Since we headed the same direction going home, whenever I grumbled about Takeda the three of us would find ourselves in complete agreement.
 
In those days Gusto did a hamburger steak for 380 yen, and Matsuya had a chicken set for 500 yen — both reliable options.
 
There were only three staff elevators at Asakusa View Hotel.
So depending on the time of day, when they really weren't coming you could wait quite a while.
 
To fetch alcohol deliveries from the basement all the way up at Belvedere on the twenty-eighth floor, you had to go all the way down to the underground level.
When waiting felt like too much trouble, I took the stairs down to the basement.
Rather than feeling tired, I would take each landing in three rhythmic bounds, grab the column to spin my body around, and carry on the same way — almost enough to make your head spin.
No other hotel employee did anything like that, but it let me put my physical ability to use while cutting down the time.
 
The long tanks of Löwenbräu（a German lager brand）draught beer — three of them — I could lift with one hand on my right.
With full beer crates I could lace my fingers through four at a time and lift them flat.
 
"Iwakami…… what kind of body do you have? That's in monster territory."
 
Satō, the captain in black uniform, watched what I was doing, took off his glasses, and stared wide-eyed.
 
Being able to do these superhuman things as a matter of course was surely the fruit of the training I had done during my All Japan Pro Wrestling days.
 
That world was behind me now, and I had never made it as a wrestler.
But the fact that I had been part of All Japan Pro Wrestling would follow me from here on.
 
I had been at the very bottom in pro wrestling.
Even from that lowest position I had this level of physical ability — I wanted to show it.
 
The one thing I absolutely could not allow was for my daily conduct to make that organization look sloppy.
That was something I kept engraved in my mind at all times, living and working every day.
 
Cocktails are an extraordinarily deep world.
I tried mixing various spirits to make an original cocktail.
 
After the lounge shift ended and I was drinking at the bar counter, the two members of the Escapade Duo（a performing duo from Montreal, Europe, who did shows at the hotel stage）— Pierre and Catherine, who had come from Montreal — would join me.
Someone happened to bring a grapefruit as a gift, and when I offered it to Pierre he said he wanted sugar.
There really are people who put sugar on grapefruit……
 
The classic vodka-based cocktail using grapefruit is the Salty Dog.
That one uses the snow style — coating the rim of the glass with lemon juice and salt.
Gin and grapefruit juice are not a bad combination either.
Grapefruit with sugar.
 
I tried a snow style using half Blue Curaçao（a blue liqueur made from dried laraha citrus peel）and half grenadine syrup instead of lemon on the rim, then pressing sugar into it.
 
Into that glass I shook gin and grapefruit juice in a shaker, then slowly poured Blue Curaçao and grenadine syrup from the top.
 
Normally, for pousse-café（a layered cocktail technique）-style cocktails with multiple layers like a Rainbow, you pour carefully in order from the heaviest to the lightest, resting each spirit on the back of a bar spoon against the rim of the glass.
 
This was the complete opposite approach.
 
Adding liqueur and syrup to settle after shaking — that method was probably an industry first.
Calculating the sugar content and weight of each alcohol, I completed my original cocktail.
 
Someone like me working in a hotel lounge — it's like a mutation.
Mutation in English.
I named the cocktail Mutation.
 
But something like this is ultimately just a surface technique.
 
What matters for a bartender is this: how well can you satisfy the guest who orders a cocktail — matching it precisely to their palate.
 
What kind of alcohol do they prefer, what style of drinking do they enjoy?
Beyond that — how delicious can you make the fundamental cocktails, like a Martini?
 
The difference between using a shaker and using a bar spoon to stir.
That is determined by the ingredients of the cocktail being made.
 
If the ingredients blend easily, the basic method is to stir.
The classic example of a stirred cocktail is the Martini.
Whether shaking or stirring, the shared purpose is to combine and rapidly chill.
 
A Martini uses only gin, dry vermouth, an olive, and lemon peel.
It is a cocktail dominated almost entirely by the proportion of gin — but no matter how quickly you stir, the ice in the mixing glass melts to rapidly chill the room-temperature gin, and the cocktail becomes watery.
 
I focused on a different angle.
Most establishments leave the base spirit at room temperature when making cocktails, measuring out the quantities.
What if the gin was kept thoroughly chilled in the freezer from the start?
 
Spirits like gin don't freeze when you put them in the freezer.
When stirring, the temperature difference between the ice and the gin would be minimal.
That way, I thought, you could create an almost perfect Martini.
 
The hotel staff mocked me: "Nobody goes to that kind of trouble."
 
They were wrong.
What is hospitality, at its core?
Isn't the most important thing first having a genuine desire to serve the guest?
 
I wasn't looking for approval from my colleagues.
It was simply because I genuinely wanted to see the smile on a guest's face that I gave my best.
 
Shibazaki Yoshiaki — Shiba-chin — whom I had reconnected with at a class reunion during the wretched year of my All Japan setback.
We had stayed in touch.
 
He let me know that he and the girl he had introduced to me as his first girlfriend were now getting married.
 
"Shiba-chin, congratulations!"
"So — Iwa-yan, I was hoping you'd give the friend's speech."
 
"A speech? I've never done anything like that."
"If you're not comfortable with a speech, singing a song would work too."
 
"Singing in front of a crowd? That's even worse. Alright, I'll figure out something to say."
"Sorry to push this on you. I'm counting on you, Iwa-yan."
 
How was I supposed to pull that off?
Even back home in Kawagoe after work, no good ideas came to me.
Wandering the streets near Hon-Kawagoe Station, I ducked into a snack bar（a small bar with hostesses, a common type of Japanese drinking establishment）called Apple（Appuru）next to a MOS Burger on impulse.
 
"Welcome~"
 
The woman who greeted me was strikingly beautiful.
Her name was Kumiko.
Slim with sharp, almond-shaped eyes — I fell for her instantly.
 
I told Kumiko about being asked to give the friend's speech at Shiba-chin's reception, and she listened with genuine interest.
I exchanged contact information with her and left the bar.
 
There was one problem working at Asakusa View Hotel.
A superior with a mean streak who would sneer: "Pro wrestling is fake, isn't it?"
If I answered seriously, he would needle me further in a way designed to get under my skin — "But I mean, pro wrestling, come on~"
 
I had thrown myself into it with complete seriousness, even if it had fallen apart.
My colleagues would watch me get riled up and argue back, and enjoy it.
That was the one thing that bothered me.
 
Other people's misfortune is supposedly sweet — but it really isn't sweet at all.
We simply started from different positions.
I kept telling myself that constantly.
 
The lounge closed at one in the morning.
 
The last trains were long gone by then, so the hotel had a rest room.
A room of about ten tatami mats with five bunk beds.
 
Staff from various other restaurants and bars would stay here.
 
The work was shift-based, but so many staff were crying out under the excessive schedules that I volunteered for punishing shifts myself.
 
For example: first day, clock in for the lounge at five in the evening and work through until the middle of the night.
Stay at the hotel, then help out at the Japanese restaurant Karuta（a restaurant at the hotel）from five in the morning until ten.
Belvedere sky lounge lunch buffet from eleven in the morning until two in the afternoon.
Only then could I take a break — then the evening lounge again, staying a second night.
The following morning, Karuta again from five.
Then lunch buffet preparation, finally finishing at eleven.
 
Two-night, three-day live-in shifts — that kind of schedule.
 
As it had been at Green Plaza Jōetsu in Niigata, I think I simply enjoy the act of serving people.
In that sense, hotel service work suited me.
 
Aside from the pro wrestling mockery, I was enjoying the work.
 
When stress built up I would go to Snack Apple to see Kumiko's face.
Even when something unpleasant had happened, just seeing her smile was enough to make me feel happy.
 
"Iwakami-san, have you figured out what to say for the speech?"
"Hmm…… my friend is marrying the first girl he ever dated, so I'm thinking of building something around that."
 
"Your voice is good too, I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Thanks, Kumiko."
 
Inside I was thinking: someday I'd like to end up with this girl the way Shiba-chin did.
 
The day of Shibazaki Yoshiaki's wedding reception arrived.
The venue was Kawagoe Prince Hotel.
 
I attended in a dark purple suit.
 
The moment for my speech came.
Don't let the atmosphere get to you.
If I could stand in front of President Giant Baba……
 
Microphone in hand, I drew a light breath and opened my mouth.
 
"Ladies and gentlemen, how do you do. My name is Iwakami Tomoichirō, an acquaintance of Shibazaki Yoshiaki, and I have been asked to speak as a representative of his friends. I have attended a number of occasions like this in the past, and I have always felt that a speech, the shorter the better, keeps the atmosphere from going flat. With that in mind, I would like to end my speech here."
 
I bowed my head deeply and held the position.
Everyone seemed to think that was actually the end, and a murmur rippled through the venue.
 
After holding for a suitable length of time, I lifted my head and brought the microphone back to my lips.
 
"……or so I would like to say, but that would be far too discourteous to the bride and groom. So please allow me just a little more of your time."
 
The venue erupted with laughter.
Good — exactly the reaction I had simulated.
I had the room now.
 
"First, I would like to ask everyone here a question. Marrying the very first person you ever dated — once you have experienced even one breakup in your life, this becomes permanently impossible. Yoshiaki-kun has achieved that. He is a remarkable man. To such a couple with such a future ahead of them, I have just one thing to say. Shiba-chin! Noriko-chan! Congratulations from the bottom of my heart! Ah, one more thing…… Shiba-chin, remember how you agonized early on because your sister and Noriko-chan share the same name? Don't let something that trivial bother you. Now — everyone, let's give this couple the storm of celebration they deserve!"
 
Thunderous applause washed over the two of them.
The speech ended without incident.
 
I had also taken on organizing the after-party, using a venue called Est（a party hall near Kawagoe Prince Hotel）just a short walk from the Prince Hotel.
Childhood friends and classmates including Adachi Sumire and Masukawa Kiyoko joined, and it was a lively celebration.
 
When everything was over, the first thing I did was go to Apple and report back to Kumiko.
 
"I'd love to go out for a meal with you sometime, Iwakami-san."
"Let's compare our schedules then."
 
Slowly, gradually, the distance between Kumiko and me was closing.
 
Catherine of the Escapade Duo mentioned she wanted to go to a Japanese karaoke place.
They only spoke English, so we always communicated in broken words and gestures.
 
Catherine, who took great care of her voice, drank nothing but room-temperature water at all times.
 
I loved the song she sang called "My Cherie Amour."
Later, at a record shop called Otowaya run by the father of my childhood friend Saitō Yōgo back home, I bought the CD and discovered it was a Stevie Wonder song.
Yōgo's father said with great delight: "So Tomo-chan has finally started listening to this kind of music."
 
We rented a luxurious room at a karaoke place in Asakusa, but Catherine declared that as a professional she would only sing one song, and spent the rest of the time enjoying everyone else's singing.
I wanted to ask what the point of renting a room like this had been, but Catherine had an endearing side to her, and I focused on helping liven up the evening.
 
Cross the International Street（Kokusai-dōri）in front of Asakusa View Hotel and walk a little further, and there was a JRA（Japan Racing Association）off-track betting facility.
I knew it was there simply because it was impossible to avoid seeing it from the hotel during shifts.
 
"Hey, Iwa. Tomorrow's races — sorry, but could you go buy me a ticket?"
 
Chef Asanuma, who worked in the Belvedere kitchen, asked me this one day.
He had taken a liking to me — often when I went to the back he would say "Iwa, try this. Don't tell the others," and spoil me with food no one else got.
 
He taught me how to fill in a racing form, and I went to the off-track betting window.
Influenced by him, I tried horse racing for the first time myself.
 
My first race was the Tennō-shō Autumn（one of Japan's most prestigious horse races, held at Tokyo Racecourse in October）.
I hit on a combination of Bubblegum Fellow and Mayano Top Gun.
 
Asanuma, who lost, looked genuinely frustrated.
 
Then in the Queen Elizabeth II Cup（a Group 1 race at Kyoto Racecourse in November）I hit again with Dance Partner and Fair Dance.
I had bought the ticket as a joke — "Dance Dance, fever" — but it came in.
 
Then in the Arima Kinen（the Grand Prix horse race at Nakayama Racecourse in December, one of the most prestigious races of the year）at the end of the year I called Sakura Laurel and Marvelous Sunday exactly right.
Including the autumn Grade 1 races, ten races, eight wins.
 
The year was almost over.
Christmas shifts ended and colleagues lamented: "Of all nights to be on the overnight shift."
Flush from the racing winnings, I treated everyone to chanko nabe（a hearty hot pot traditionally eaten by sumo wrestlers, also made famous by All Japan Pro Wrestling）in the All Japan Pro Wrestling style.
 
Partway through, the two members of the Escapade Duo joined and ate with us.
Pierre particularly loved the chanko nabe and kept pestering me to teach him the recipe.
 
"Is napa cabbage available in Canada?" I asked, and Pierre — not understanding Japanese — tilted his head with a puzzled "What?"
 
New Year's visits to the shrine were work too, so I took him to the nearby Sensō-ji（a famous Buddhist temple in Asakusa, also used for hatsumode — the first shrine or temple visit of the New Year）.
Pierre, experiencing this ritual for the first time, was excited and having a great time.
 
On the way back he stopped at a nearby Denny's and ordered something called pamplemousse（French for grapefruit; likely a seasonal menu item）.
It turned out to be a limited-time menu item that was no longer available.
 
"Pamplemousse. Smoked meat! Oh, no……"
 
He looked sad eating his meal, but out of loyalty for treating him to chanko nabe before, he paid the entire bill — showing that principled side of him.
 
I handed him a 500-yen coin and said "Skinhead, throwing" while pointing to his bald head.
Pierre laughed: "Oh, you, bad boy!"
 
About six months after I started at Asakusa View Hotel, a new staff member joined — a beautiful girl named Asano Mika.
 
Serious and not particularly flexible, she seemed to be struggling with various aspects of working in a hotel.
She often came to me with her worries, and I would listen.
 
In the middle of all that, my date with Kumiko was confirmed.
The place she wanted to go was Belvedere, where I worked.
 
I got permission from Manager Miyamoto and of course asked all my colleagues to take care of things.
I also put in a word with Asanuma in the kitchen.
After everything I had done working here, I was coming back as a guest bringing a woman.
Ah — I had better tell Pierre and Catherine of the Escapade Duo as well……
 
On the day itself, to make a good impression I borrowed a car from my cousin Wa-chan's father in Minami-Ōtsuka.
I worked at the View Hotel until evening, then after finishing rushed to Minami-Ōtsuka.
Borrowed the car, picked Kumiko up in Kawagoe.
A drive to Asakusa.
On the way I stopped at a drive-through McDonald's and bought thirty burgers and things.
 
"You're buying that many?"
"I think this will be just about right."
 
Everyone at work, the kitchen, Pierre and the others.
Ozawa-san on the same floor would surely smell it and want some too.
I wanted everyone to eat as much as they liked.
 
I explained how I had worked there and what kind of service I had done.
When we arrived at the hotel, Hayashi was waiting at the Belvedere entrance to meet us.
I handed him the massive bag of McDonald's and he laughed and scolded me — "Don't hand it over here" — and took it through the staff door.
 
He had saved the best window seat for us and showed us to it.
 
On the table were my favorite Glenlivet 12 Year and even a Hennessy XO（a premium cognac）.
 
"What would you like to drink, Kumiko?"
"Hmm…… I'll leave it up to you, Iwakami-san."
 
"What kind of cocktail do you feel like? Something refreshing, something sweet?"
"Something refreshing to start."
 
My junior Ejiri approached and took our order.
 
"Hey — you know that original cocktail I came up with, Mutation? If you don't remember I can write out the recipe."
"I know it perfectly. Ah — how do you do, I'm Ejiri. Iwakami-san has always looked out for me — I look up to him like an older brother."
 
"Stop saying ridiculous things and go make it! And get my guest a Valencia（a cocktail made with orange juice and apricot brandy）as well."
 
Kumiko laughed watching our exchange.
I would have to thank Ejiri properly another time.
 
Soon a steady stream of dishes arrived.
 
"This is from Chef Asanuma. He says to keep telling him if you need more."
"Tell Asanuma-san to eat as many burgers as he likes."
 
The show on stage began.
Catherine's voice, as beautiful as ever.
Kumiko gazed absently at the stage bathed in its single spotlight.
 
Suddenly the spotlight swung to our table, and every eye in the room turned on us at once.
Catherine extended her hand toward me and spoke:
 
"My best friend, Iwakami. Iwakami's request — Stevie Wonder — My Cherie Amour."
 
Everyone in Belvedere was celebrating me and Kumiko.
Even a movie wouldn't have a scene like this……
 
When the spotlight went back to the stage, I found myself in tears.
Kumiko gently took my right hand in hers.
 
I thanked everyone as we made our way to the cashier.
Hayashi said with a grin: "Your total is 200,000 yen."
 
"There's no way it's that much!"
"Then the manager says tonight is on the house."
 
All that hospitality, and I had gotten away with thirty McDonald's burgers.
 
Leaving the hotel, I remembered there was a good sushi place called Midori Sushi（a sushi restaurant near Asakusa View Hotel known for its grilled conger eel nigiri）nearby — famous for its grilled conger eel nigiri — so we stopped in.
 
"I'm completely full already~"
"Just try one piece. This place is genuinely exceptional."
 
"Wait — what is this? It's incredible!"
"Right?"
 
Back in the car, headed for Kawagoe.
Kumiko naturally reached for my hand.
At a red light, she rested her face against my chest.
I was anxious she could hear my heartbeat.
 
"Being close to you…… it calms me down."
 
Seeing her happy expression, I understood for the first time why people spent so much money to come to Belvedere.
 
They all went there to see the smile of someone important to them.
That was why men pushed themselves and dressed up to take women there.
 
Kumiko looked steadily at me.
I pulled over to the side of the road and kissed her.
A woman's body is warm, and soft.
 
Things moved naturally and we checked into a hotel, and made love until morning.
At some point I fell asleep, and when I woke she was beside me.
 
I slowly opened my mouth.
 
"I want to marry you……"
"Come on, we've only been on one date. You're hopeless."
 
She laughed as she said it, looking genuinely happy.
I was happy.
 
I dropped her off in Kawagoe and headed on to Minami-Ōtsuka.
On the way, wanting to brag to someone, I called Bōzu-san's place.
He seemed to be at work, and his girlfriend Yūko-san answered.
I boasted enthusiastically about the date with Kumiko.
 
"Ah——"
 
Distracted by the conversation, I scraped the car against a wall.
I hurriedly hung up and checked — a light scratch, but it was definitely there.
 
Of course I told him I would pay for the repair and apologized for the carelessness.
The repair cost me 100,000 yen.
 
Once I had slept with Kumiko, something like possessiveness came out in me — I would sometimes treat her unkindly or speak to her coldly.
Whether she was disillusioned by that, before I knew it she was pulling away.
 
I had gotten carried away — that was on me.
I tried repeatedly to patch things up and get back in her good graces, but like a cracked glass that can never be made whole again, Kumiko's heart never turned back toward me.
 
Gradually she put more and more distance between us, and one day I understood — she had broken up with me.
 
The breakup with Kumiko.
Everyone who had cheered me on kept asking how things had gone, and I brushed them off with vague answers.
 
A hollow opened up in my heart.
To numb the wound, after hotel shifts I started stopping in at other snack bars more and more.
My horse racing started losing too, and most of my paycheck disappeared into gambling and bars.
 
"Iwakami-san, drinking that much is bad for your health, and a waste of money too."
 
The only person who seriously cautioned me was Asano Mika.
 
No matter what she said, my lifestyle didn't change.
The occasional incoming call on my mobile was usually just senior Takeda from back home.
Calling to say come over on your day off and play games, no doubt……
 
The calls were persistent enough that I picked up once.
 
"Tomo, you've been cold lately!"
"I'm all the way in Asakusa for work — what do you expect."
 
"Take a Sunday off sometime and come play games!"
"Takeda-san…… there's the matter of shifts at the hotel."
 
Dragging myself through the days.
When I stayed over for overnight shifts at the hotel, the only things I looked forward to were the yakiniku place nearby afterward, the pub Butahatchi（a local izakaya）, and Midori Sushi.
 
In the middle of all that, I heard the rumor that Asano Mika was leaving.
Apparently she had been working to save money to go abroad, and she would be quitting in a few months.
 
Such a good person — I would miss her.
 
One day Asano invited me to go to the nearby Hanayashiki（Asakusa Hanayashiki, Japan's oldest amusement park, opened in 1853, located in Asakusa）with her.
It was on a day off, and I don't dislike amusement parks, so I said yes.
 
On the day itself I slept in spectacularly at home in Kawagoe and left her completely stood up.
I only woke when Manager Miyamoto called me.
I looked at the clock — two hours had passed since the time we were supposed to meet.
 
"Iwakami — don't do something that cruel. She's been waiting in the lounge saying there's no way you'd stand her up."
 
I rushed to Asakusa.
No matter how fast I went from Kawagoe, an hour and a half.
 
She had waited for me for a total of three and a half hours.
That steadfast patience of hers made my chest hurt.
 
Hanayashiki had of course closed by then.
I owed her.
 
"Asano-chan, I'm really sorry about today."
"You always work so hard — you must have just been exhausted."
 
Such a kind girl, and she was leaving in a few months.
Thinking about it left me with a helpless feeling.
 
Even so, we walked around Sensō-ji together, and since she mentioned she had never played billiards, I taught her as we played.
 
I took her to Capricciosa（a popular Italian restaurant chain known for generous portion sizes）, an Italian restaurant with large shared plates that I had been wanting to try.
 
Green salad, supplì（a Roman fried rice ball with mozzarella）, Bolognese pasta, and baked pizza.
I was about to order a meat dish and keep looking at the menu when she stopped me: "We can't eat all of that."
 
Even looking at just the first salad that came out in a quantity far beyond normal, I could tell I had already ordered too much.
Supplì over ten centimeters in diameter, pasta on a large plate — both of us were full.
We had the baked pizza wrapped to take home.
 
On the walk back along International Street, a strong wind blew.
Winter — it stripped the warmth from us without mercy.
 
Asano was shivering, so I forced myself to act unbothered, took off my coat, and draped it over her.
Without realizing it I had come to think of this girl as someone very important to me.
But in a few months she would be gone from Japan.
 
I wrapped my arms around her from behind and held her warm.
 
Around this time, influenced by local friends, after finishing work and coming back to Kawagoe I would often go drinking at a snack bar called Godai（Fifth Dimension）in the bar district beyond the west exit.
No snack bar carried The Glenlivet 12 Year, so back then I often ordered a bottle of Hennessy VSOP（a cognac by the French Hennessy brand）instead.
 
After the snack bar I would head to the tonkatsu（deep-fried pork cutlet）place next door to my family home called Hiromu.
Hiromu was more accurately described as a small Japanese izakaya than a tonkatsu restaurant.
 
A senior named Okabe-san, five years older than me, worked there.
He had apparently been in the same school year as my childhood friend Hiromu's older brother Ichi-chan.
I got to know him after coming back to Kawagoe from the Self-Defense Forces, so we had known each other for a few years.
 
His common sense, his values, his way of thinking about things were all enormously instructive to me — before I knew it he had become the person I respected most back home.
 
I also got to know Nohara-san, the owner of a bar in Kawagoe called Jackpot（Jakkupotto）, who I often saw at Godai around this time.
Okabe-san introduced us, and after work we often drank together.
 
At the hotel, Asano Mika kept warning me as usual that I was ruining my health with all the drinking.
 
"No matter what happens to my health, you're going to quit and go abroad, aren't you?"
 
I wanted to say that, but I was in no position to say anything to her at this point.
Faced with the reality of this girl I cared about leaving, all I could do was think it to myself.
 
Inside the hotel, the food and beverage division covered the restaurants and bar, with a floor manager overseeing them.
The kitchen prepared the food, with an executive chef over each of the Japanese, Western, and Chinese sections.
Cashiers handled billing and the register.
Everyone assigned to their respective departments.
 
After work, drinking at the bar counter, staff from other departments would often come by to share a drink.
 
One of the cashiers often came to me with things on her mind — I would listen, and at some point she mentioned that her father was the executive chef of Diamond Hotel（a hotel near Hanzōmon Station in Tokyo）near Hanzōmon Station.
She said she had already put in a good word with him, so the three of us — my superior Hayashi, Asano Mika, and I — should come by sometime.
 
We were shown to a private room and treated to impeccable service.
 
Decorative knife-work using vegetables like carrots shaped into rabbits.
A full course of Chinese cuisine using premium ingredients throughout.
 
When the bill came, they charged the three of us a combined 10,000 yen — an astonishingly low price.
 
One day, before sleeping in the rest room after an overnight shift, I soaked slowly in the large communal bath in the basement.
My body was overheated, so I slept on the upper bunk bed where cold air blasted through a duct hole in the ceiling.
 
When I woke up something was clearly wrong.
My voice was hoarse.
My body felt sluggish.
 
The lounge staff, seeing me looking unwell, laughed: "Iwakami-san is actually showing weakness for once."
 
My voice disappeared entirely partway through the shift.
I had a few consecutive days off coming up, so I told myself rest would fix it and didn't take it seriously.
But my condition only kept getting worse — a fever so high I couldn't even get up.
 
With no voice at all, I finally dragged myself to Mitsui Hospital（a hospital near Kawagoe）right in front of my house.
I was admitted immediately.
The doctor scolded me for letting myself get this bad before coming in.
 
Sleeping under the duct in the rest room had put me in a position to breathe in a large amount of dust, and my tonsils had swollen to capacity.
 
My second hospitalization since a appendicitis in sixth grade.
I wrote on a notepad: "Please contact Asakusa View Hotel and let them know I've been admitted."
 
A few IVs and my condition recovered quickly.
Guilt over leaving work shorthanded made me want to be discharged, but permission wouldn't come.
 
Bored with hospital life.
I snuck out, brought my Sega Saturn（a home video game console by Sega, released in Japan in 1994）from home, and was playing it when Asano Mika from the hotel suddenly came to visit.
She had come all the way from Asakusa to Kawagoe — over an hour and a half……
 
In that moment I became clearly aware of her as a woman.
 
I ignored the doctor's opinion and discharged myself after about a week, returning to work.
But the hospitalization overlapped with the timing of Asano's resignation, and I wasn't even able to see her off.
 
And the Escapade Duo's contract with the hotel ended, and I couldn't even say goodbye to them properly.
A colleague told me Pierre had kept asking about me worriedly — "Mister Iwakami?" — before he left.
 
Their next engagement was apparently performing aboard a luxury cruise ship.
I envied them, singing their way across the world.
 
I already had an IDO mobile phone, but for no particular reason I also signed up for a Docomo phone and started carrying two.
 
After I returned to work, a Nippon Life（Nihon Seimei, one of Japan's largest life insurance companies）representative who frequently visited Asakusa View Hotel urged me to sign up for insurance.
I had been turning him down, but the recent hospitalization had made me painfully aware that I couldn't train the inside of my body, and I signed up.
 
But within a month, my tonsils flared up again and I ended up hospitalized a second time.
The price of having forced my way out of hospital before making a full recovery.
 
Once my voice came back, nothing but the boredom of hospital life awaited me.
Asano Mika would be abroad by now.
 
To shake off the restlessness, I would sneak out of the hospital at night and make the rounds of the snack bars.
There was no point in rushing back to work only to relapse.
 
After about a month of hospital life, I decided it was time to go back and left.
 
Asakusa View Hotel and the catering company hadn't paid a single yen of my treatment costs, even though the hospitalization had happened as a direct result of work.
Working as hard as I could, destroying my body in the process, and then paying my own hospital bills — what a joke.
 
And waiting for me when I was discharged: orders for a section transfer starting next month.
Misfortune never comes alone.
 
I was told to move from the lounge to the wedding banquet section, but I loved making cocktails and serving guests in the lounge, so I made my feelings clear.
 
But orders are orders.
They would never be reversed, so I told them I would be leaving the hotel.
 
The Nippon Life representative told me it looked like I had engineered the hospitalization on purpose, so there was no need for the insurance benefit — but he said: "I know better than anyone that you didn't do it on purpose. The benefit will definitely be paid out — please take two days off for the diagnosis from our affiliated physician." And he made me take those two days.
 
And so my time at Asakusa View Hotel came to an end.