Chapter One Hundred and Twelve: Wouldn't That Make Them a Couple?

“Tamura, isn’t it dangerous to leave Ye Zhao and Miss Nakama alone on the boat like this?” Yuuki Uemura, waiting for the staff to prepare the boats, looked worried. “It would be awful if they accidentally fell into the water.”

“Relax, relax. From what I know of the president, he wouldn’t do this unless he was quite confident,” Yuuki Tamura said with a mischievous grin. “Besides, this is a rare chance for the two of them to be alone together. Wouldn’t they be furious if someone interrupted them?”

“Alone together?” Uemura’s expression twisted slightly. “You mean Ye Zhao and Miss Nakama?”

“Who else?” Tamura said in the knowing tone of an insider. “If he weren’t worried about being photographed by paparazzi, why would Ye Zhao go to the trouble of bringing the two of us along? Uemura, if a man is willing to go this far for a woman, he definitely has feelings for her. And if a woman is willing to travel somewhere and spend the night with a man, she definitely has similar intentions.”

“Really?” Uemura said, only half convinced.

…

The two of them sat facing each other in the boat.

“Brother Ye Zhao, do you know how to row?” Yukie Nakama asked.

“I’m all right. I probably won’t manage to tip us both into the water.”

“Really?” Nakama sounded a little uneasy. “If we did capsize, wouldn’t we have to go back soaking wet?”

Holding the oars in both hands, Ye Zhao suddenly set the little boat moving while she was off guard.

“Hey!” Nakama cried out.

Ye Zhao laughed. “A lake this beautiful is meant to be admired from the surface. As for tasting the water or climbing down for a swim, we’ll skip those activities. So don’t worry.”

If he had not been reasonably confident in his rowing ability, he would never have joked with his life by taking her out onto the lake in a small boat.

Surrounded by mountains, Lake Chuzenji was a delightful harmony of green trees, wildflowers, and a deep sapphire-blue surface. Mount Nantai, shaped like a cone, rose beside the lake, its slopes veiled in drifting mist. There was a quiet beauty to the scene.

Nakama looked from one mountain-lined shore to the other, then suddenly asked, “Why is it called that?”

“Hmm?”

“Mount Nantai. Why give it such a name? It sounds a little strange.”

“I’m not entirely sure. But to the northeast of this mountain there’s another volcano called Mount Nyohou. Perhaps the names were meant to correspond to each other.”

“In that case, wouldn’t Mount Nantai and Mount Nyohou be husband and wife?”

“If you put it that way, then wouldn’t Mount O-Manago and Mount Ko-Manago, which stand between them, be their children?”

“Perhaps they are.” Nakama replied in a carefree, almost sing-song voice. “Brother Ye Zhao, you really know so much.”

“Actually, it’s only because I looked through a sightseeing guide to Nikko when I was planning the route.”

Ye Zhao spoke candidly. The oars in his hands moved rhythmically, sending ripples spreading across the water before the surface settled into calm once more.

The two of them drifted only a short distance from the shore. Uemura and Tamura followed nearby in their own boat, never too far away and never too close. Uemura glanced toward them from time to time, while Tamura devoted himself to admiring the scenery.

About half an hour later, the two boats slowly reached the shore one after another. With the assistance of the lifeguards waiting there, everyone climbed out.

Chuzenji Temple stood beside Lake Chuzenji. Although the lake had originally taken its name from the temple, it had ultimately become even more famous than the temple itself. After returning their life jackets, and with daylight still remaining, the four of them followed the lakeside path to Chuzenji Temple. They bought their tickets and, led by one of the temple’s monks, toured the main hall and the secondary hall in turn.

Chuzenji Temple was an excellent place from which to view Lake Chuzenji. Once they stepped out onto the temple’s second floor, the lake came into view at a short distance. The sight from above felt completely different from being on the water itself. The boundless surface lay smooth and still as a mirror, possessing a mysterious, tranquil beauty that stirred the desire to see more.

By the time they left Chuzenji Temple, it was already half past four in the afternoon. It was the period of the year when the days were longest, and sunset was still a long way off. Ye Zhao suggested that they go and see Kegon Falls as well.

“They say it’s the highest waterfall in Japan.”

“The waterfall is best viewed in January or February, or in May or June,” the taxi driver who took them there remarked.

“July first isn’t all that different from June,” Tamura replied, lively and talkative as ever.

Besides, every season had its own particular beauty.

To appreciate just how high the waterfall was, there was no more direct way than to stand beneath it. To see the falls in their entirety, the four of them took an elevator down to the observation platform at the bottom.

It was the rainy season, and Kegon Falls was carrying nearly twice its usual volume of water. The closer they drew to the falls, the lower the temperature felt. Mist dampened their skin, leaving them slightly wet.

At the very top, the water poured over an outlet roughly ten meters wide. The roaring torrent plunged downward with tremendous force. Standing before the railing, they felt the spray blown toward them by the wind settle over their bodies. A bone-deep, invigorating chill seeped into every pore.

Put simply, there was only one word for it: cold.

“I heard this is a famous place for suicides.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” Nakama answered softly. “I read about it in the library earlier. The book said that, long ago, a high school student stripped the bark from an oak tree near the waterfall and carved the words ‘I cannot understand’ into the trunk as a suicide note. Then he jumped from the falls.”

“‘I cannot understand’…” Ye Zhao lowered his head and looked at the unfathomably deep pool beneath the waterfall.

Wearing only a short-sleeved shirt, Nakama rubbed her exposed arms with her palms and hunched her shoulders. “Now that I’ve told you about it, I suddenly feel as though the place is rather eerie.”

“That’s only because we’re standing so close to the waterfall and your body feels cold,” Ye Zhao said with a smile.

By the time they finished viewing Kegon Falls and arrived at the inn, it was nearly half past five.

There were many traditional Japanese inns around Lake Chuzenji, including even establishments reserved exclusively for the embassies of certain countries. It seemed the area had been developed as a dedicated vacation destination. Seeing a sign at the entrance that read “No Entry,” Ye Zhao could not help associating it with several rather strange possibilities.

They had reserved two Japanese-style suites with twin rooms: Ye Zhao and Uemura would share one, while Nakama and Tamura would share the other. If he had had the choice, Ye Zhao would not have wanted to share a room with Uemura. Japanese hot-spring inns, however—especially traditional Japanese-style inns—generally did not accept bookings for single guests, nor did they offer single rooms.

A male attendant dressed in a yukata led them to their rooms. The sitting room measured roughly ten tatami mats, and beyond its broad windows lay Lake Chuzenji. That view was the reason Ye Zhao had chosen this inn when making the reservation.

Ye Zhao slid open the window. As expected, the lake spread out before them in its entirety.

“No matter how many times I see it, I can’t help saying it—the view is incredible.” Nakama came to stand beside him and murmured her admiration.

“It is.” Ye Zhao nodded. “So? Wasn’t this a good destination for our trip?”

“It’s absolutely perfect.”

Facing Lake Chuzenji, Nakama stretched contentedly.