Suicide Forest Read Free

peaceful and the perfect
place to die.”
    That last bit struck an awkward note with
me.
    The perfect place to die .
    Silence ensued. I looked at Neil, then John
Scott. Neil’s brow was furrowed, as if he were perturbed by the
dark turn the conversation had taken. John Scott, too, seemed
preoccupied with his thoughts. Ben said something to Nina in
Hebrew. She said something back. She saw me watching them and
smiled.
    Ben said, “We will take a bus to Aokigahara
now.” He pointed to a nearby bus stop. There was no bus there yet.
“You know, you and your friends should come with us. It will be an
adventure, what do you think? We do not mind the company.”
    I was about to decline when John Scott said,
“I’m up for that.” He shot a cigarette from a pack of Marlboro Reds
that had appeared in his hand. “Beats an amusement park.” He lit up
and blew the smoke out of his mouth in a long, relaxed stream.
    I’d quit smoking a year ago because Mel had
wanted me to. She’d said she was concerned about my health, though
I suspected she simply didn’t like the smell of the smoke on my
clothes and in my hair. Still, to this day, a freshly lit cigarette
always unleashed a craving inside me I had to forcibly ignore.
    John Scott took another long drag, blowing
the smoke around his words while he spoke: “So how about it? We
wanted to kill some time? Camping in a haunted forest sounds
sick.”
    Neil was gazing at nothing in the distance,
which I interpreted as noncommittal. Honda had started shaking his
head again. He was definitely not cool with the idea.
    “Neil?” John Scott pressed. “What do you
say, big guy?”
    Neil wasn’t a big guy, and considering he
was about twice as old as John Scott, I thought “big guy” sounded
disrespectful.
    Neil shrugged. “I like camping, and I’ve
heard of the forest. It could be interesting. But it’s going to
rain. The last thing I want to do is spend the night cold and
wet.”
    “Aokigahara, it is special,” Ben said. “The
trees, you know, are very dense. The canopy keeps most of the rain
out.”
    I found that hard to believe, but I didn’t
say anything—because I was warming to the whole camping idea. It
was a long weekend, which meant we could still climb Fuji on Sunday
and return to Tokyo on Monday without anyone missing work. “We’re
pretty well prepared to camp,” I said tepidly. “Food, tents, warm
clothes…”
    “Dude, let’s do it,” John Scott said.
    Honda made an X with his arms and bowed
apologetically. “I’m sorry, I cannot go, not there. But you go. I
think you are crazy. But you go. No problem.”
    Ben shifted his weight from one foot to the
other, as if impatient for us to make up our minds.
    “Give me a sec while I run this by my
girlfriend,” I said.
     
     
     
    I climbed in the
front seat of Tomo’s souped-up Subaru WRX. Mel, I noticed, was
still sleeping. I said to Tomo, “What do you know about Suicide
Forest?”
    “Ah! Is that what you talk so fucking long?
Leave me here?”
    “You could have come over.”
    “You say watch Mel.”
    “What do you know?”
    “It’s famous for Japanese. Guys go there to
suicide.”
    “So that’s true?”
    “Crazy, right?”
    “What would you think about camping there
tonight?”
    “Are you fucking kidding, man?” Tomo was a
hip guy, and it was hip for young people in Japan to use swear
words when speaking English. It showed off their fluency. But some
used four-letter words too much. They didn’t grow up with them,
weren’t lectured against their use as children, they were just
words. Tomo was one of those guys. “You want camp there?”
    “We can’t climb Fuji because it’s supposed
to rain. So we either go back to Tokyo or do something here. Honda
doesn’t want to camp. But Neil and John Scott are okay with the
idea. Those two there”—I pointed to the Israelis—“are going.”
    “She’s so hot.”
    I think Tomo currently had two or three
girls chasing after him. He was handsome,