Suzuki
Bullet TrainSuzuki is an exam-preparation instructor who briefly becomes an unexpected moral interlocutor for the Prince aboard a train. Asked why killing is wrong, he answers that he would try to stop both a would-be killer and someone attacking another person, because such harm is heartbreaking and sad. His measured response is given added personal weight when he reveals that his wife was murdered long ago. A later chance meeting with Nanao, when both are shopping, returns Suzuki to the story in a markedly ordinary setting.
Identity and Background
Suzuki works as an instructor at an exam-preparation school. He describes himself with some qualification as a teacher, but the role is clear in his conduct: when the Prince turns a question about killing into a challenge, Suzuki tries first to understand what the boy really wants to know, then offers what he calls his personal opinion. The account does not establish his age, family beyond his deceased wife, or any further details of his work.
His presence on the train is explained by an awkwardly practical errand. Suzuki had told his students that he was traveling in the green car, and realized he ought to see what it was like if he was to persuade them that he really had a green-car seat. He is on his way to inspect it when Nanao encounters him. Suzuki explains himself before Nanao needs to ask, grinning with embarrassment; Nanao responds with a half-smile and remarks on how demanding teaching can be. The exchange gives Suzuki an unassuming introduction, shaped less by authority than by his earnest wish to make his story to students convincing.
Encounter with Nanao
Nanao first sees Suzuki when the instructor appears nearby on the train. Suzuki greets him, then explains why he is looking around. When Nanao asks how far he is traveling, Suzuki says he is going to Morioka. The journey gives Nanao a brief opportunity to talk with him, though they have not previously established a close relationship.
Their acquaintance becomes more consequential when Suzuki is brought into the conversation between Nanao and the Prince. The Prince learns that Suzuki teaches at an exam-preparation school and directs him to take the aisle seat next to an older woman, facing Nanao and the Prince. Suzuki follows the instruction. The Prince then tells him that Nanao has raised a difficult question and asks him, as a teacher, to answer it. Suzuki is not introduced as someone with special authority over the Prince; rather, the scene places an ordinary instructor in front of a question the boy is pressing on those around him.
His Answer to the Prince
Suzuki does not begin with a general rule. He says he is unsure what the Prince really wants to know and frames his response as a personal view. If someone intended to kill another person, Suzuki says he would want to stop them; equally, if someone tried to kill the person being addressed, he would want to stop that attacker. He includes attacks that do not end in death as well as murder. His answer therefore treats the prevention of harm, not only the outcome of a fatal act, as the ethical concern.
When the Prince asks why, Suzuki explains that killing someone—or attacking them even without killing them—is heartbreaking, sad, and hopeless. He would rather such things never happened. The response is direct but not punitive: Suzuki describes the human cost of violence and the wish to prevent it, rather than offering a legal argument or a strategy for dealing with the Prince. The contrast matters in a scene where the Prince has put the question to him as a test. Suzuki’s professional identity gets him invited to answer, but what he offers is explicitly personal.
His Wife and the Meaning of His Response
An older man asks whether Suzuki has a particular person in mind, and a woman says she had wondered the same thing. Suzuki then reveals that his wife died a long time ago and that she was murdered. The disclosure surprises both Nanao and the woman. It is the only specific account given of Suzuki’s personal life, and the narrative does not supply details of the crime or identify its perpetrator.
Nanao connects this revelation to an earlier impression, interpreting it as the reason he had never been able to detect light in Suzuki’s eyes. That is Nanao’s reading of Suzuki, not a fuller explanation supplied by Suzuki himself. The order of the exchange nevertheless changes how his answer lands: his opposition to killing is no longer only a teacher’s response to a pupil’s question, because Suzuki has disclosed a direct loss. The book leaves the connection understated. Suzuki does not use his wife’s death to elaborate a theory or to demand sympathy; he names what happened, and the conversation is left to carry the weight of that fact.
Later Reunion and Narrative Role
Much later, Nanao notices Suzuki at the back of a line in a shop. Suzuki is dressed in a suit, appears healthy, and carries a basket of groceries. He recognizes Nanao; his eyes widen, then he relaxes into a pleased smile. Though the two barely know one another, their brief reunion feels almost like a meeting between old friends. Nanao nods, and Suzuki nods back. He then seems to remember something important and moves to another line.
The encounter does not add a new explanation of Suzuki’s life or resolve the earlier conversation. Instead, its everyday details—work clothes, groceries, a shared recognition in a queue—place the train acquaintance in a continuing world beyond the charged question he answered. Suzuki’s part in the narrative is brief, but his two appearances make a clear contrast: first, a teacher unexpectedly asked to speak about violence and loss; later, a familiar face encountered amid routine errands. His answer and his disclosure give Nanao a human point of reference in the Prince’s interrogation, while the later reunion preserves Suzuki as a person whose life continues outside that exchange.