About 10 years ago, I was a struggling student attending a third-tier university. I managed to scrape by with a part-time job four days a week and some financial support (which barely covered my rent and utilities) to afford basic meals.
It happened during the summer of my second year in university. Overwhelmed by the summer heat, on days when I didn’t have work, I would spend almost every day at the air-conditioned community center, working on my university reports.
There, I noticed a bulletin board called the “Community Exchange Board,” where anyone could post notices. I would always check that board because I was hoping to find tutoring opportunities, relying on my confidence in high school entrance exams. However, most of the posts were about studying foreign languages together, and there weren’t many tutoring opportunities available.
One day, as I checked the board as usual, I came across the following notice: “Looking for someone to help with room cleaning between July XX and XX. Pay starts at 5,000 yen for half a day. TEL XXXX-XX-XXXX, Tanaka (pseudonym).” Those days happened to fall right after my university exams, so I had time off and no work scheduled. Furthermore, it was just a few days before I was planning to visit my hometown, so the timing was perfect. I thought earning 5,000 yen would be a nice addition to cover my travel expenses, so I made a decision and called immediately.
When I explained, “I saw the notice on the bulletin board about helping with cleaning, and I would like to apply,” the man on the other end seemed a bit surprised but soon asked, “How many days can you work?” I replied, “I can work any day starting from XX,” to which he said, “Okay, let’s make it XX. If you can come in the morning, I’d appreciate it starting at 9 a.m.” We exchanged contact information and the address of the man’s apartment, and the application was complete. Judging by his voice over the phone, the man seemed to be in his mid-thirties and appeared a bit lacking in energy, leaving a lasting impression.
Time passed, and the promised day arrived. It was a sunny day, even in the morning, and the heat was intense. As I made my way to Tanaka’s apartment, I hoped he had air conditioning.
Around 8:50 a.m., I arrived at the door of the room with the name “Tanaka” on the nameplate. I rang the doorbell, and the man came out. He greeted me, somewhat averting his gaze as if he wasn’t comfortable talking to strangers, and invited me inside. I took off my shoes and followed him into the cool, air-conditioned room.
After introducing ourselves again, we discussed the plan for cleaning up and what assistance was needed. My role was to help with carrying heavy objects, taking out the trash, and doing some light cleaning.
There was quite a lot of garbage, and there were many items that I, a struggling student, considered treasures. Sensing that, Tanaka-san said, “If you find anything you want, you can take it home.” I happily sorted through and packed the things I wanted to take with me, such as old games and adult magazines, into my bag.
As we continued, the cleanup progressed rapidly. Tanaka-san’s room became visibly cleaner in no time. In fact, the room wasn’t as cluttered as I initially thought, so it ended up quite empty. Tanaka-san said, “I think it’s about time…” After a brief pause, they looked at me and said, “Let’s wrap it up.” As a token of gratitude for a day’s work, Tanaka-san gave me a 10,000 yen bill. Then they asked if I could spare half a day tomorrow because there were a few more things they needed help with. I gladly agreed, thinking that I would receive another 5,000 yen. With my bicycle loaded with treasures, I headed home.
The next day, when I arrived at Tanaka-san’s house, the front door was open. I called out, “Excuse me, is Tanaka-san here?” and heard a voice from the back saying, “Yes, come in.” I closed the front door and said, “I’m intruding,” as I entered the room.
I wondered where Tanaka-san could be since I heard their voice from this direction. Thinking that, I headed towards the back room, where Tanaka-san approached me with a smirk. Tanaka-san said, “You only need to stay for half a day today,” and placed an envelope with 5,000 yen on the desk. Then they took my hand and led me further into the room.
Actually, inside the walk-in closet of this room, there was a heavy item (a suitcase for overseas travel) that needed to be taken out. Tanaka-san wanted my help because it was difficult for them to do it alone. Tanaka-san said, “I’ll push from the inside, so when I give the signal, pull it as hard as you can from the outside.” Then they went inside the closet. The closet had jackets and suits hanging, so I couldn’t see Tanaka-san.
After a while, Tanaka-san said, “Pull,” and I pulled the handle of the suitcase with all my strength. It slid… It slid… The suitcase moved little by little. It was heavy, probably around 60 kilograms. Then the suitcase suddenly came out. Huh? It’s empty.
I heard a thumping noise coming from the closet. Was it Tanaka-san? I called their name a few times, but there was no response. The sound of thumping gradually faded away. Huh? Huh? At that moment, I couldn’t grasp the situation at all.
Then, I suddenly realized and moved the suits and jackets aside. Although it probably took only a dozen seconds, it felt like minutes had passed. Tanaka-san was hanging themselves inside the closet, and I was the one who moved the stool.
I immediately tried to bring them down, but the rope was tight and wouldn’t come off. I remember throwing away anything sharp… I was honestly panicking. Tanaka-san wasn’t moving. I had to bring them down… The rope was thick. Scissors wouldn’t work… What should I do…
It took more than a minute before I asked for help from a neighbor.
After that, the ambulance and the police arrived, and I was questioned for a day. My parents came from my hometown and, for some reason, they burst into tears. Tanaka-san was transported by ambulance, but it took too long to get him down, and he passed away at the hospital that same day. There were hardly any personal belongings left. It was all clean. I had cleaned up a lot.
In the end, inside the envelope Tanaka-san was going to give me, along with 5,000 yen bills, there was a paper that resembled a suicide note. It mentioned his layoff, his wife running away with another man, and his debts. At the end, he wrote that he had caused me trouble. This helped clear any suspicion of assisting in his suicide. The police, who understood the situation, returned the 5,000 yen that they had temporarily seized. Ultimately, it seemed like he just wanted to tidy up his affairs before his suicide.
About a week later, Tanaka-san’s sister, who had cut ties with him long ago, came. There was an unpleasant truth for me there… Tanaka-san was a devoted follower of a certain religion (which seemed to be the cause of his estrangement from his family).
In that religion, it is said that “those who commit suicide will go to hell.” So, he wanted to die but couldn’t choose suicide. That’s why he opted for the method he used this time. And finally, he gave me 100,000 yen, saying, “It’s not much, but I’m sorry for causing you trouble.”
According to Tanaka-san’s interpretation, does that mean I have killed someone? Am I destined for hell with 115,000 yen?
