The red lamp in the studio went dark. The noon time signal ended, and the thread of tension quietly loosened. Through the glass, Abe Shoya watched the technical staff all at once let the strength drain from their shoulders. Every day the same repetition. When the twelve o'clock news finished, the broadcast hall's second studio filled with an air of relief. "Good work, Abe-san." "[gentle] Ah, good work." Abe lightly raised his hand and responded, taking the tea cup placed at the corner of the desk into his hand. Completely cooled coarse tea one mouthful contained. Bitter. Forty years, lived and come, this bitterness only no matter how long it takes, won't get used to it. Outside the window was cloudy. November's imperial capital always like this. Gray-colored air wrapped the town, people's faces from also took away the color. The city's hustle and bustle, to call it that, was too much, sinking town's sound, soundproof glass across faintly heard only. Abe leaned by the window, Marunouchi's townscape blankly gazed at. The provincial line train slowly ran, and beyond that, the palace's forest darkly lay. The sky was low, and now it seemed about to cry out. (Rain, huh.) Whatever it was, he thought. Had he brought an umbrella? No, this morning there was a sunny interval, so he'd left it behind. By the time he returned, it would probably fall. Returning——. Abe chewed the words in his head, ruminating. Returning. His own home. To that six-tatami small apartment. Bookshelf and phonograph and two records only had a room. There, his own returning place was. That alone was certain. When he went out into the hallway, "Luxury is the enemy" poster caught his eye. Under wartime, the thrift called out, that famous slogan. Next to it, "National Spirit General Mobilization" poster was pasted, and further beside it, this month from the start, the notice "Beware of Suspicious Characters" new poster occupied the wall. Watch the neighbors. Unsettling words and actions, if found, immediately report. That's this country's new common sense. Abe stopped his feet in front of the poster, and its wording read aloud his own figure imagined. Five days ago, this poster's content was news manuscript read by himself. "All of you citizens, each and every one, placed in your daily lives, from your surroundings, pay sufficient attention, and cooperate in the detection of unsettling elements." That time too, his voice completely didn't tremble. With tension, stable beautiful voice, the empire's entire land delivered those words. (In the end, what on earth am I doing?) Inside his heart, that murmured, Abe slightly shook his head. The state-run broadcast's signboard announcer——Abe Shoya. Forty years old. Deep brown pupils calmly dignified, black hair shortly trimmed, always white shirt black slacks, properly tied necktie. Slender and delicate physique, if anything, rather resembled a scholar or literary man. Contrary to that appearance, his voice astonishingly well passed through. Before the microphone, standing, as if a musical instrument tuned, naturally from the throat was born. That was his weapon. His voice was everything about Abe Shoya the person. At eighteen, the year's imperial broadcast association's gate knocked, about a hundred and fifty times the difficult barrier broke through, and from then on, twenty-two years. War results reported, national policy transmitted, sometimes出征 soldiers'激励 broadcasts handled. Monthly salary eighty yen. Not much, but for a single body, he had more than enough amount. Work boasted pride. At least, once upon a time, it was. But recently——. "Abe-san." From behind, a voice called out. Turning around, a colleague's announcer uneasy-looking face stood. Certainly, three years ago, entered the station's junior. Name——slightly thought, then remembered. Village well, what was it? "What is it?" "[scared] Ah, no…… that, well done." Village Well only said that much, and left. His eyes downcast, fast-footed, went away. (What I wanted to say seemed like it was.) But reconsidering. This era, unnecessary things mouth out one person. No one. Words are not weapons. They are凶器. One misstep, one slip of the tongue, one pronunciation's shake, non-national烙印 reason enough era. Abe knew. Last year, another broadcast station's incident occurred. Veteran announcer manuscript read aloud, "Gyokusai" momentarily詰marred. Just that alone. Next day, that man special high连行 arrested, and never again broadcast booth returned. The hallway's end window, cold wind blowing in. Chest pocket, silver cigarette case taken out. Inside, two cigarettes only remained. Precious goods. Fire lit. Smoke thin, ceilingへと ascended. (Today too, one day, finished.) So thought that time. The hallway's beyond regular army boots' sound approached. Zut, zut, zut——vigorously aligned footsteps, eventually behind stopped. Cigarette held in mouth, turned around. Four people. Military police corps' uniform men. Leading petty officer. Expressionless face, staring at Abe's face. Round face, one glance, countryside youth-like simplicity remaining——that instead eeriness. "Abe Shoya, right?" "[serious] That's right, but what?" The non-commissioned officer answered not, instead one sheet of documents thrust out. Ink written characters blurred, hard to read. But, red seal pressed, visible. "Public Order Maintenance Law Violation, and Enemy Country Soviet Union Communication Suspicion——" A moment, inside head, pure white became. Soviet? Communication? "[serious] What do you mean? Root basis is. Warrant is." Abe's voice was calm. At least, from himself, he thought. Twenty-two years, no matter what emergency broadcast, even calmness lost man. That training now this moment also lived. "[cold] Warrant is this." So said, the non-commissioned officer indicated was still just prior documents. Well seen, it was not a warrant, but rather a simple order document. No basis, no evidence, nothing written. "[serious] I am a state-run broadcast announcer. This station's stationmaster talk——" "[cold] Shut up." Another military police officer grabbed Abe's arm. Thin wrist, rough military gloves ate in. Cigarettes fell floor, sparks scattered. "[angry] Wait a minute! Abe-kun is our signboard announcer——" From where appeared, the hallway's beyond fast-footed approached. Fifty-ish, well-built man, always cheerful face, now pale-faced. Lower-ranking officer glanced. Just that alone, the stationmaster's words stopped. Lips trembled, something said——and then, down turned. (Ah, I see.) Abe thought. The stationmaster already gave up. This era lives through, it takes that much sense of smell necessary. Wall-side colleagues gathered. Village well also there. Technical staff, women's office workers too. Everyone wall backs pasted, frozen eyes this side. No one, mouth open. No——mouth open not. Power异议 sing meaning. Instinctively understand. This system finished up. Handcuffs嵌められた. Cold metal feeling, wrist ate in. "Escort." Abe then, suddenly, foot cigarette butt saw. Still fire lit, thin smoke rose. (This is my daily end, huh?) So thought. Strange, quiet, only. Abe that quiet inside, wall-side colleagues' faces one person each saw. Everyone eyes逸らした. Their silence, Abe eyes engraved刻みつけた. Pulled立てられるようにして, hall lobby through, front entrance out. Outside still cloudy sky, cold wind blowing. Military truck cargo platform pushed込まれる直前, Abe looked up at the sky. (Ah, rain still hasn't fallen yet, huh?) So thought last. Hood lowered, vision closed darkness. ——Ichigaya's military police special duty detachment station. This place's official name, transfer's way middle. Abe knew. Iron-reinforced concrete three-story building. Surface-facing usual military police barracks, inside entering, air different. Hallway almost light届かず, fluorescent lamp white light conversely shadow thick. Wall, sound吸い込む. Boots sound only異様 big loud響く. Self's footsteps self追いかけてくるよう. Interrogation room连行された. Abe crude wooden chair座らされた. Front正面机. Beyond side, young取調官一人座っている. Military uniform着ている, somewhere line細い男. Glasses書類目落としたまま, 入室しても顔を上げない. "[serious] Once again, I ask. What on earth is the suspicion——" "[cold] Your name is." "Abe Shoya. State-run broadcast announcer——" "Birth date." "Meiji 35 years, November 3rd." The interrogation officer calmly continued, Abe's answers stationery wrote down. That eye once also saw. "[serious] I Soviet contact, etc. nothing. First, my work broadcast, foreigners meet opportunity even——" Pen running sound only room響く. "[serious] Here several years action, all explanation possible. Last month once also imperial capital離れていません. Who meet, where stay, all clear——" Documents one sheet, turned over. "[serious] Temporary secret report, even if it's some mistake. I Soviet communication reason etc.——" "[cold] Statement recorded." The interrogation officer then first raised his face. But that eye, Abe's further back, wall one point見つめているだけ. "[cold] Next time認めるまで続ける." That alone said, the interrogation officer stood up, department room left. Door closed metal sound, strangely ear残る. Abe one person, interrogation room残された. Desk top, just nowまで interrogation officer書いていた documents置き去りにされている. Reverseさまになった文字, Abe unreasonable読もうとした. But, there content理解する前に, 別の military police入ってきて, 独房へと連行した. Solitary cell two tatami onlyなかった. Wall gray concrete. Ceiling high, small ventilation port faint air flow feeling alone. Bed wooden hard, mattress薄っぺらく yellowed. Corner lid付き toilet one. That alone. Light, hallway side iron door small覗き窓 leak faint light only. Meals one day one time. Wheat rice thin miso soup. First night, Abe half eat, remainder bed under隠した. Always next meal come time分からない. Saveえておかなければ. That thought self, Abe small laughed. (Already, this kind of thing考え始めている.) Wall back預けて, 目閉じる. Cold. November imperial capital coldえる. Heating etc. あるはずもなく, Abe slacks and shirt top, 支給された blanket one sheet羽織るだけ. Limbs先から体温奪われていく. ——Analyze. Abe self聞かせた. What person? Why here? How出られる? (Abe Shoya. 40 years old. State-run broadcast announcer. Career問題ない. Soviet contact当然 zero. Secret告者いたとして——誰? Broadcast station誰か? Neighbor? それとも全くの無関係な人間か) Public order maintenance law. Taisho 14 years制定. This law "national body reform" purpose association organization加入 heavy punishment科すもの, 問題 "purpose" 立証あまり曖昧なこと. Soviet共感した testimony one本で, people逮捕されうる. Under wartime, this law net mesh limitなく広がった. Secret report one本. That alone十分. Motive証拠, trial裁判すら必要ない. That kind of system, this country出来上がっている. Abe university era法学かじっていたから, that knowledgeとして知っていた. But, knowledge reality違う. (I am, this system——) That thoughtかけて, Abe唇噛んだ. War results report beautiful voice読み上げてきた. National policy imperial capital全土届けてきた. Self this huge machine oneつ歯車. And now, that machine self噛み砕こうとしている. (Self-inflicted, that kind of thing?) Mouth middle bitterかった. Two日目朝. Abe iron扉覗き窓向かって, 運動権利求める, military police無言で扉開けた. 一瞬, Abe淡い期待抱いた. 次瞬間, military police拳無造作に Abe鳩尾めり込んだ. "Gah……!" Voice sound漏れる. Abe place膝つき, 腹押さえたまましばらく動けなかった. 呼吸できない. 胃液せり上がってくる. Military policeそれだけ. 何も言わず, 扉閉め, 鍵かける. Shoes sound遠ざかっていく. (Words——通じない) Abe floor手ついたまま, しばらくその姿勢いた. 体中から汗噴き出し, シャツ肌貼りつく. 冷たい concrete額押しつけると, 吐き気少しだけ治まった. Intellect超えようとしていた self, 愚かしく思えた. This placeでは, 論理も話術も意味なさない. 理由も, 正当性も, 証明も——すべて暴力前では無力. Wordsいう, self唯一武器, ここ刃ない剣等しい. This time, first思い知った. Three日目夜. Abe寝台横たわり, 天井見つめていた. 換気口から相変わらず微空気だけ流れ, 時折, 遠く鉄扉開閉音聞こえる. 以外, ほとんど完全静寂. Self今, どんな声出せるのか——ふとそう思った. Abe喉手当て, 小さく息吸った. "……Imperial capital sky……" Voice出ない. Tension響きどこ行ってしまった. 誰別人間声よう. 擦れて, 掠れて, ただ空気振動. Broadcast professional二十年以上, self天命すら思っていた voice, この暗闇中滲んで消えていく. Abe壁片手ついた. Cold concrete. That cold alone, this place唯一確感触. (I am voice——) That thoughtかけた時. Kon, small sound聞こえた. Wall beyond. Cough. Man low cough, onceだけ. Abe breath止めて, 耳澄ました. 隣独房か, あるいは二つ先か. 正確位置わからない. 誰かいる. This place self以外人間. That cough, ほん