Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan 16: At a Confessional

Um, Mr. Kishibe.

I have a big favor to ask today.

KOICHI HIROSE, HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT

ROHAN KISHIBE, MANGA ARTIST

Oh. What's that, Koichi?

Actually, I'm going to go abroad this spring, during the school break.

Are you? Where to?

To Italy.

Wha…!

Italy?

Could you please use your Heaven's Door to write in for me, "I can speak Italian"?

Why on earth should I do such a thing for you?

I… I've never been abroad on my own before, so I'm nervous.

So, I'd like to be able to at least speak the language!

Please!

You're going to Italy, huh?

Then I'll tell you about the experiences I had there.

Huh?

When I first met you, I had to stop drawing my series because of the injury

which he caused, remember?

During that time, I went to Venice to do some research for my next manga plot

and stayed there on my own for eight days or so.

That was when I came across this story.

It's a really weird story.

AT A CONFESSIONAL

The story I'm telling you is…

what I, Rohan Kishibe, heard with my own ears.

It was a horrifying incident.

Do you know what a "confessional" is?

Every Italian church has one of those.

It has two wooden boxes that look like telephone booths.

The parish priest gets in the one with the curtains ,

and the parishioner goes in the other box.

There's a little window between the two boxes,

and voices can go through the window, but…

the priest and parishioner cannot see each other.

The window allows the parishioner to confess their "sins"

with their privacy securely protected.

You see, you can't keep a secret hidden deep in your heart for years.

The graver the secret is, the greater the suffering of the heart.

A confessional is a place to purge a soul of its sins.

It was created by the wisdom of people in the past.

It's not allowed, but I took some photos when the priest wasn't around

and looked closely at the design and materials of the carvings.

And just for an experience,

I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea if I could confess to a priest myself.

So I went in the box.

The actual experience would bring reality into my work, you see.

Huh?

Father, I've come to make a confession.

I have committed a great sin.

Wha…

I can't stand it anymore. I've got to tell you, Father.

I can't sleep without making a confession.

I swear it!

At that time, I didn't know the box with the curtains was for the priest.

This man mistook me for the priest.

But…

wasn't this a stroke of luck?

What's his "great sin"?

I might as well listen through to the end.

A real experience brings reality into my work.

It doesn't matter who listens to his confession.

After all, it's the thought that he confessed to the priest

that matters for this man.

Father, is there anything wrong?

No, it's nothing. Plea-- I mean, go on.

Yes, but how do I start?

Well, that evening.

Yes, the whole thing started on that evening.

I was 24 years old then,

and working at a food market.

I was doing manual labor.

I piled up sacks of corn on a truck and carried them to the storehouse.

It was hard work.

I was so busy, I didn't have time to meet any girls.

I absolutely hated this job.

That evening, it was after 6:00 p.m.

I was working overtime, as usual.

That's when that man appeared.

He was staggering along

with empty eyes and unwashed hair. He stank.

I could tell at once.

He was a tramp.

Please… give me… something to eat.

His voice was pathetic.

He kept glancing at my lunch on the table.

Suddenly, I started to feel angry.

I've been working like a dog,

while he's just been loafing around behind the station or in a park.

He's got the nerve to ask for food!

What a selfish jerk!

I work and get paid and buy food with that money.

Why don't you do the same?

I'll give you food after you carry all these sacks to the storehouse.

I… I will work.

But first, please give me some food.

I haven't eaten for five days. It's t-- true.

Just a little bit of food. I'll work after that, I promise!

Oh, really?

You only get paid when you finish your job.

Are you gonna do it or not?

Hey! Whatcha doing picking up just that little one?

These ones are yours!

Finish with these in an hour, okay?

I wanna go home soon, you know!

Hurry up, for God's sake!

If you wanna eat soon, you've gotta finish soon!

He's a lazy ass, that one.

He needs to learn a lesson.

Hey! Don't pretend that you fell just because you wanna slack off!

You haven't even worked for ten minutes!

Slacking off?

Are you trying to tell me…

I look as if I'm slacking off?!

What the heck?!

I'm now deep in despair, deeper than the dark sea…

because of you!

I'll never, ever forget your face!

I'll make you pay for this.

I'll come back

at the happiest time of your life! I will!

I will come back to get you.

So be prepared!

Look! There's someone lying under the sack!

He's dead!

He is dead!

A doctor! Call a doctor!

Or call the police!

I didn't know!

I didn't know that he really hadn't eaten for five days!

Hang o-- I mean, wait a moment.

Did you say the tramp spoke for the last time… after he was dead?

Are you sure you were not dreaming?

Dreaming?

How I wish it were a dream.

The real terror hadn't even started yet, Father.

After that, I suddenly got so lucky, it felt almost eerie.

I inherited some money from a distant relative.

I won the jackpot in a soccer lottery.

I sold the land I bought with that money, at a huge profit.

Then I had the idea to make snacks and food from corn ,

which became a huge hit right after the launch.

These products sold like hotcakes all over the world.

I'd had nothing to do with girls before, but I got married

to a former supermodel who had appeared at Milan Fashion Week.

I had such a massive income, I couldn't spend it all.

Where I live now, I have 15 servants

and three chauffeurs.

This outrageous good luck always made me anxious.

In the back of my mind, I was always thinking of that dead man.

Then I had a child.

Daddy! Daddy!