At dusk, as Murakami was walking along the cobblestone streets of Kagurazaka*, he was suddenly called out to by an unfamiliar woman at the corner of an alley. She was dressed in a kimono and stood in the glow of a paper lantern*. Her age was impossible to guess.
“Would you like to see the future?”
He thought it was some kind of prank, but the woman’s eyes were not smiling. Murakami stopped and answered that he was interested. When he asked how much it would cost, the woman shook her head.
“I don’t need money. However, there is one condition.”
There was a pause.
“You will pay me in 800 years.”
Leaving only those words behind, the woman disappeared into the depths of the alley.
The next morning, Murakami woke up with vivid images flooding his mind. He could see tomorrow. He could see a week ahead. A year ahead. As he kept pushing further and further into the future, he eventually saw the night he would be bedridden, clearly reflecting the very moment he would quietly take his last breath.
A week passed in disbelief, but when the exact events he had foreseen happened right before his eyes, Murakami finally understood that it had been neither a joke nor a dream.
Murakami lived cautiously. So that no one would realize he had precognition, he used it secretly only in small situations and never at major turning points. He avoided one accident. He preemptively prevented two serious illnesses. Even so, ignoring what he had foreseen became harder with each passing year. He knew the day his grandchild would be born. He knew the day his friend would die. Each time, Murakami carefully chose where he would be. Pretending not to see what he could clearly see—that was his life for 50 years.
Sometimes, the alleys of Kagurazaka appeared in his dreams. The woman stood in the light of the paper lantern. He felt relieved upon waking up. There were several nights like that.
After turning 60, Murakami calculated it just once. What year it would be 800 years from his birth. He wrote it down on paper to confirm, then immediately tore it up. No matter how he calculated it, it was a number that would never arrive during his lifetime.
Finally, the night of his death arrived. On his hospital bed, Murakami looked up at the ceiling. As his consciousness faded, he remembered that condition one more time. *Pay in 800 years.* But he was about to die. No one chases after the dead. Convinced of this, Murakami peacefully closed his eyes.
He woke up. It was an unforeseeable development. Murakami stared at the ceiling for a while. It was an unfamiliar ceiling.
When he sat up, an unrecognizable city stretched out beyond the window. Sounds he had never heard before came from somewhere.
There was a calendar hanging on the wall.
Murakami narrowed his eyes and checked the date written on it.
750 years had passed since the day he died.
There was a knock on the door, but Murakami couldn’t move.
He heard the sound, but his body wouldn’t react.
The door slowly opened.
That woman was standing on the other side.
* *Kagurazaka*: A historic, atmospheric neighborhood in Tokyo, famous for its traditional cobblestone alleys, which adds a timeless and slightly mystical mood to the story.
* *Paper lantern (Chochin)*: Traditional Japanese lanterns that produce a dim, warm glow, often associated with old Japan, festivals, or the supernatural.
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【2分小説】神楽坂の魔女(15作目)
夕暮れ時、神楽坂の石畳を歩いていた村上は、路地の角で突然、見知らぬ女に声をかけられた。女は着物姿で提灯の光の中に立っていた。年齢の見当がつかなかった。
「未来予知をしたくないかい？」
ドッキリのたぐいかと思ったが、女の目は笑っていなかった。村上は立ち止まり、興味はあると答えた。費用はいくらかかるのかと尋ねると、女は首を振った。
「お金はいらない。ただし、条件が一つある」
間があった。
「800年後に支払ってもらう」
それだけ言い残して、女は路地の奥へ消えた。
翌朝、目が覚めた村上の頭の中に、鮮明な映像が流れ込んできた。明日のことが見えた。一週間後が見えた。一年後が見えた。そのまま先へ先へと進めていくと、やがて自分が病床に伏す夜が見え、静かに息を引き取る瞬間まで、くっきりと映し出された。
半信半疑のまま一週間が過ぎ、見えていた通りの出来事が目の前で起きたとき、村上はようやく、あれが冗談でも夢でもなかったと理解した。
村上は慎重に生きた。予知能力があることを誰にも悟られないよう、小さな場面でだけそっと使い、大きな局面では使わなかった。事故を一つ避けた。重い病気を二つ先手で防いだ。それでも予知したものを見なかったことにするのが、年を追うごとに難しくなっていった。孫が生まれる日がわかっていた。友人が死ぬ日もわかっていた。村上はそのたびに、どこへ行くかを慎重に選んだ。見えているのに見えないふりをすることが、50年の生活だった。
ときどき、夢の中で神楽坂の路地が現れた。提灯の光の中に女が立っていた。目が覚めるとほっとした。そういう夜が、何度かあった。
60を過ぎてから、村上は一度だけ計算してみた。自分が生まれた年から800年後が何年になるか。紙に書いて確かめ、すぐに破った。どう計算しても、自分の存命中には来ない数字だった。
いよいよ死ぬ夜が来た。病院のベッドの上で、村上は天井を見上げた。意識が遠くなる中で、あの条件をもう一度思い出した。800年後に支払う。しかし自分はもうすぐ死ぬ。死んだ者には誰も追いかけてこない。そう確信しながら、村上は穏やかに目を閉じた。
目が覚めた。予知できない展開だった。村上はしばらく天井を見た。見知らぬ天井だった。
体を起こすと、窓の外には見覚えのない街が広がっていた。聞いたことのない音が、どこかから聞こえてきた。
壁にカレンダーがかかっていた。
村上は目を細め、そこに書かれた日付を確かめた。
自分が死んだ日から、750年が経っていた。
ドアをノックする音がしたが、村上は動けなかった。
音は聞こえていたが、体が反応しなかった。
ドアがゆっくりと開いた。
あの女が、ドアの向こうにいた。