Devour Me

Abstract

Devour Me Yuki Fuwa (bio) Translated by Toshiya Kamei (bio) In this short story from Japan, the narrator—who is disappearing organ by organ—dissolves into a library as encompassing as the cosmos. Click for larger view View full resolution PHOTO BY GREG RAKOZY & ALFONS MORALES ON UNSPLASH I chose to live as a part of the school. I belong to the library. My devotion has led to organ donation. S. R. Ranganathan, who was considered the father of library science in India, authored The Five Laws of Library Science. Here’s the fifth, and last, law—the library is a growing organism. You know what’s ironic? A twentieth-century scholar predicted the future. The library actually grows as it chews, digests, and integrates all kinds of information. I was born into the third cybergeneration, so it’s a cinch for me to merge with the library. The linguistic barrier has crumbled down. I, watashi, and 我 . . . are all me. I’ve renounced my birth name and gender. Does an information entity need gender? The answer is no. Even so, everybody who comes here becomes feminine. Thanks to her influence. My liver is being taken from my body. It doesn’t matter. Let us visit the Asian History section today. I zip through aisles and hurry toward my destination. No, there’s no hurry. I accelerate like a particle and leap to the destination in a second. I’m glad that I’ve gotten rid of my physical body. That’s the best decision I’ve made. At the Asian History section, the Mongolian cavalry storms away. A patron has checked them out. She’s a thirteen-year-old girl. Nowadays hardly anyone reads physical books. As textual information is stored visually, most patrons prefer videos. I monitor the patron’s heart rate. At times, history shows them a scene of unparalleled atrocity. Checking the patron’s mental state, stopping the video in case somebody passes out in shock: these are also a part of my job description. Half an hour later, the patron disengages from accessing. Perhaps she will go back to the afternoon class. Since I transitioned to this side, I don’t know if my school still physically remains. How many brick-and-mortar schools are still left in the world? Physical schools you can touch. Schools accept only a select few. I play the rest of the video. Temüjin, the future Genghis Khan, will conquer vast territories of land. Another part falls from my body. This time my skin peels off. Maybe some building has collapsed somewhere. A few kids still intend to access the library. They must be afraid of going to their class. I could log them off forcibly, but I won’t do that. I turn into a ghost and access one of them. Pity kids with no freedom. They’re not allowed to discard their bodies yet. I send them a message: “With age comes privilege.” Then the patron’s mental patterns turn from red to green. There, there. Here we go. The library doubles as the health office for bullied kids who are afraid of going to school. Those kids can [End Page 60] hide in the forest of books, away from their classmates, parents, and teachers. I hop on my broomstick and speed across the sky. The Western Civilization section is full of mysteries, always brimming with curses, hexes, and spells. At last, my heart is removed from my body. But I couldn’t care less. I keep soaring to meet her—Mother. A city on the moon lies at the center of the universe now. The atmosphere snatches away my broom and puts me in a space suit. I zip across the dark expanse and land on the dome covering the lunar city. “It’s you again,” the dome says in a slow, feminine voice. It’s Mother. “Here I am.” “Do you feel like a girl now?” “I may feel like a boy tomorrow.” “Is that so?” The library’s motherboard is always connected. She re-creates the construction of the lunar city in real time. The soaring spires beneath the dome remind me of New York...