Free The Isle of South Kamui and Other Stories by Kyotaro Nishimura

dark void as I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was lying in my own bed. Blankets were piled high on me, but as I came round I started shivering with cold.
    I looked up to see her pale face peering down at me. For me, the fact that she was there was more of a miracle than having been rescued.
    â€œYou’ve come round,” she said with a gentle smile. “Drink this, it’ll make you feel better.” She offered me some hot milk.
    I sat up in bed and drank some. At last I stopped shivering.
    â€œA fishing boat happened to pass by and saved you. No more swimming out so far, right?”
    I nodded wordlessly, but deep down I was feeling acutely ashamed. I had wanted so badly for her to see me as a powerful young man, yet I had shown myself up as a pitiful weakling. My only vindication was that the water had been colder than I had expected. Even that wasn’t very convincing. In any case, I had been careless and was saved from drowning by a fishing boat. Even my bronzed body had lost its meaning as a symbol of youth, and had ended up looking ridiculous.
    â€œWhat about Mr. Takeda?” I asked, averting my eyes. He must be feeling disappointed that I had been rescued. I was furious with him, but at the same time I felt deeply grateful that I had not been rescued by him. If he had saved me, I would certainly have felt doubly humiliated before her.
    â€œHe’s downstairs working on his novel,” she said.
    â€œHow long is he planning on staying?” I asked reproachfully.
    â€œWell,” she said looking doubtful, “until we go back to Tokyo, I guess.”
    â€œDidn’t he say anything about his book?”
    â€œHis book?”
    â€œThe book of his that you were reading on the beach, Parting One Rainy Morning .”
    â€œOh, that book.”
    She put her hands together before her breast and smiled. Just like yesterday, she had painted her nails prettily. She had been doing so ever since he had arrived. I looked away.
    â€œNow that’s a funny thing. I thought I had lost it, but it seems it had fallen into the sea. Mr. Takeda fished it out and brought it to me this morning.”
    She was beaming with delight as if recounting an entertaining anecdote or something. I was taken aback. I had expected him to snitch on me.
    â€œIs that what he told you?”
    â€œYes. Why, is anything wrong?
    â€œNo.”
    I looked out of the window. He clearly hadn’t covered up the matter of the book out of any kindness to me, I thought. It was probably just the capriciousness of a novelist, or perhaps the conceit of having me in his debt. Given what had just happened, it was obvious that he didn’t like me. When I had called to him for help, he had turned his back. I would never forget that as long as I lived. Just as I hated him, he also hated me. I knew the reason. It was because she would be free if it wasn’t for me. I was in the way of him winning her for himself.
    â€œWould you like another cup of milk?” she asked gently.
    When I was feeling a little better, I went down to the living room to find them drinking tea together. Beside him lay some sheets of manuscript paper, but he hadn’t written a single line. It was a blatant lie that he had come here looking for inspiration for his next novel.
    â€œYou shouldn’t be up yet!” She looked at me with big eyes.
    â€œYour mother’s right. You should get more rest,” he piped up next to her.
    I deliberately ignored him and said to her, “I’m better now. I feel like going out for a walk.”
    â€œDon’t be long. It looks like rain,” she said.
    I went down to the beach.
    It did indeed look as though it would rain. The sun was shining, but heavy black clouds were racing up from the south. A typhoon was probably on the way.
    I gazed at the droning sea. It had been my ally until now.
    But you betrayed me …
    A week before, she had applauded me as I swam out to a small