The Hamlet Syndrome

Hamlet is dead. Stabbed in the back with a dagger. He was found at dawn, cold and hunched over in the living room. Tragedies, it seems, often conclude abruptly. Everything probably went according to the script. Regardless of the path we chose, the ending would remain the same . . . including the fact that it was I who killed him.

It was exactly one month ago today that I arrived here. Heavy rain clouds hung low across the afternoon sky as the bus gently swayed along the road. Feeling quite cozy, and already drowsy from an early morning, I found myself dozing in and out of sleep. I would wake up, fall back asleep, then wake again. Each time I woke, the scent of the sea would grow stronger, signaling that I was drawing ever closer to my destination.

The place I was headed for stood at the tip of a cape. Laid over a desolate expanse of black rocks, a road as white and straight as chalk invited me forward. Ahead, I could see a square silhouette enclosed by an earthen wall. I thought it looked much like a tombstone. It was shrouded by a white mist rising from the sea, which clung to it like a veil and blurred its contours, making it difficult to discern.

I observed the scene from a distance for a while. Below the cliffs, a vast ocean gaped open as if waiting to swallow something . . . or someone.

The waves advanced and retreated ceaselessly, creating a thunderous noise without pause. As I continued to watch, a deep melancholy overcame me. It felt as though this place had somehow been severed from the surrounding world by mere happenstance. This feeling gave me an inexplicable, sorrowful foreboding.

Soon, it began to rain. I did not carry an umbrella with me, and so I hurried through the drizzle until I reached the gate. The large iron gate was red with rust, probably due to the sea breeze. A thin chain hung beside it. As soon as I pulled the chain, I heard a gong-like echo reverberate from somewhere deep and far away. An old man approached slowly, unlocked the gate from the inside, and gestured for me to enter without saying a word or greeting me in return.

Inside the gate, the ground sloped gently towards the sea. Black rocky terrain stretched as far as the eye could see. The building in question stood alone in that desolate landscape. Up close, I saw it had a peculiarly asymmetrical shape, almost like an ancient creature born in the wrong era. Beyond that, I could only see walls. It was a stark landscape. I stood in front of an old, large door for a while.

The old man ushered me indoors and into a reception room, then disappeared after gesturing for me to wait. I sat on a sofa and waited nervously. No one appeared for quite some time. The rain seemed to be getting stronger. I patiently waited while listening to the sound of the rain.

On a marble stand, a brass clock punctually marked the time, and I felt a certain pressure in my eardrums. Expensive-looking furnishings surrounded me, exuding an oppressive atmosphere. From beyond a glass door, a small rabbit figurine stared intently at me. As I engaged in a staring contest with the rabbit, I could hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

Eventually, the door opened, and at last, someone entered.

He was a clean-looking man. Tall and slender, he wore a well-tailored black suit without a wrinkle. It took me a moment to place it, but his attire was unmistakably that of a butler, like something you would see in an old movie. He sat down in front of me and began to speak as if reciting a speech from memory.

This person was none other than Polonius.

Think of your job here as something akin to a nurse, or perhaps a secretary. You are to stay by His Lordship, accompany him, follow through with tasks as directed, and closely monitor and record any changes in his temperament. Should anything unusual occur, report to me immediately.

It is not a difficult task. However, what is absolutely imperative here is that whatever happens in this place stays within these walls. You must also obtain my permission before going out. You come recommended by Mr. Sakai, so I believe there should not be any issues.

However, I am somewhat unsure to what extent you are aware of the situation here. It is crucial to know who you are and why you have come here, and . . . frankly, I am not entirely clear on that.

Oh, really?

I said.

I was under the impression that you had been informed of everything. But, it seems there's been a misunderstanding. Perhaps I should start with a proper introduction. My name is Sofue. Sofue Hikaru.

Yes, yes, of course. I know that. Oh, pardon me, I would seem I have forgotten myself. I am Polonius, and I am in charge of managing the household. I have served as a butler to His Lordship since I was a child. My family has served in this role for generations. So, managing the rules here is also part of my role.

You see, that is also why I am called Polonius, and I would like you to thoroughly understand this as well. Everyone here has been given a name based on their assigned role. Mr. Sofue, here you shall be 'Rosencrantz', and you would do well to remember that.

I was not aware it was that thorough.

I thought for a moment.

Rosencrantz was Hamlet’s schoolmate, correct? So, you mean to say I should approach him in that capacity?

Upon hearing this, Polonius looked slightly troubled. He hesitated, as if struggling to come up with a decision and eventually spoke with a hint of annoyance.

That sort of attitude might prove problematic. You see, you are indeed Rosencrantz, and you serve none other than Prince Hamlet himself. You should not entertain any backward thoughts about roles and statuses. Here, in this place, you are not merely playing his schoolmate—you become him. I wish we could discuss this matter more thoroughly, but alas, time is not on our side.

We shall continue to address this on another occasion. What is crucial, however, is that you report even the slightest matters to me. I am Polonius, the head butler. Should there be any changes with Prince Hamlet, I must be informed first and foremost. I am not aware of any arrangements you and Mr. Sakai might have, but remember that I am in charge here.

. . . Okay, er, yes. Understood.

I decided it was best to simply nod in agreement.

That is good to hear. For now, let us show you to your room. Someone will come to guide you shortly, so please wait here for a moment.

No sooner had he spoken than Polonius quickly departed, and there I was, left alone once again.

Fortunately, this time, I was not kept waiting long. The door swung open energetically with a bang, and a man about my age entered the room.

Hey, partner!

He greeted me quite suddenly. He had a rather casual look about him, wearing worn jeans and a snug sweater, and his demeanor was somewhat rough . . . yet he had a certain affable charm as well.

So you're the new guy, huh? Nice to meetcha, I’m Yamakita. Ah, but here, I'm Guildenstern. Looks like we’ll be a team—Rosencrantz and Guildenstern! We're both to keep an eye on Prince Hamlet. Lookin' forward to working with ya! After all, we share the same role, y'know?

Nice to meet you . . .

I felt a bit overwhelmed by his approach.

What's the matter? You seem a bit down. Well, that ain't a good start. Hmm, would you say you're rigid in how you think, or are you the more flexible type?

Um, I'm not sure? I guess I'm pretty good with puzzles . . .

Impressive! Haha, no, but what I meant was whether you are resilient or not. Anyway, lemme give you a quick tour of this place, huh?

Yamakita—or Guildenstern—then briskly took off while quietly mumbling to himself. I obediently followed behind him.

This place, well, it could definitely be called a castle. It's incredibly spacious. Ridiculous, don'tcha think?

He continued to mutter as he walked a few steps ahead.