Chapter 15 Chapter fifteen

I returned to Tokyo by four o'clock this day.I waited until mid-afternoon at my house in Hakone, thinking that Shimamoto might come back.Sitting honestly is hard, so I clean the kitchen and arrange the clothes here to pass the time.There was silence everywhere, and the occasional chirping of birds and the sound of car exhaust were somewhat unnatural and unbalanced.All the surrounding sounds sounded as if they were being distorted or completely crushed by some kind of external force.I wait for what happens in it.Something should have happened, I thought, and things shouldn't just go away like this.

However nothing happened.Shimamoto was not the type to reverse a decision that had been made after a while.I must return to Tokyo.If Shimamoto contacted me—even though it was highly unlikely—it should be at the store.In any case, the meaning of staying here any longer is zero. While driving, I do not know how many times I forcibly pulled my consciousness back to driving.I almost missed the signal several times, turned the wrong road, and took the wrong lane.After parking the car in the store's parking lot, I called home from the payphone and told Yukiko that I was back and I was going straight to work.Yukiko didn't say anything about it.

"It's so late, I've been worrying. It's okay to make a phone call, right?" She said in a dry voice. "It's okay, don't worry." I said.As for how my voice felt in her ears, I couldn't judge. "I don't have time, I'll go to the office to sort out the books, and then go to the store." I went to the office and sat at the desk, doing nothing and being alone until the evening.I think about what happened last night.It is estimated that Shimamoto did not sleep after I fell asleep, and got up and left at dawn.How she got back from there is unknown.There is quite a distance to the road outside, even if you take the road early in the morning, it may be difficult to find buses and taxis in the Hakone Mountains, not to mention that she is wearing high heels.

Why does Shimamoto have to disappear from my sight?I kept thinking about this while driving.I said I wanted her, she said I wanted me, and they hugged each other without reservation.However, she still left me and went somewhere alone without saying hello, and even took away the record she promised to give me.I tried to figure out what she meant by doing this. There should be some meaning and some reason for it. Shimamoto is not a whim-like character.But I can no longer think about anything systematically, all thoughts are falling silently from my mind, and if I insist on thinking, my head will feel a dull pain.Realizing that I was exhausted, I sat on the floor with my back against the wall and closed my eyes.And once you close your eyes, you can't open them again.All I can do is recall.I gave up thinking and went back and forth with the facts like a tape playing over and over again.Think of Shimamoto's body, one by one, all the parts of her naked body lying with closed eyes in front of the stove—her neck, breasts, sides, middle hair, secrets, back, waist, legs.These images are really too close and too vivid, even far closer and more vivid than reality.

I was surrounded in my cramped room by these phantasms of raw sheds.Soon I couldn't bear it anymore, walked out of the office building where my office was located, and wandered around aimlessly.After turning around, I went to the store and went to the bathroom to shave my beard.I thought I didn't shave all day today, and I was still wearing the windbreaker yesterday.Although the employees didn't say anything, they all looked at me with strange expressions.I still don't want to go home.Now when I go back to face Yukiko, I probably can’t tell the whole story—how I fell in love with Shimamoto, how I spent the night with her, how I plan to abandon my family, my daughter, my work, everything... …

In fact, I'm afraid I should tell the truth, I think.But there is nothing I can do.Now I don't have the ability to judge what is right and what is wrong, and I can't even grasp exactly what happened to me, so I didn't go home.Come to the store and wait for Shimamoto to appear.I knew full well that she couldn't show up, but I couldn't wait.I searched for her in the first bar, then came to Robbins Nestor and waited in vain at the bar until it closed.A few regulars accosted me, as usual, but I barely heard, echoed verbally, and kept thinking about Shimamoto.Remember how she gently welcomed me into her body, how she called my name.Every time the phone rings, my heart skips a beat.

After closing the door, everyone left, and I was still sitting in front of the stage drinking alone.No matter how much you drink, you won't get drunk at all, but the more you drink, the more sober you become.There is no cure!When I got home, it was past two o'clock.Yukiko is still waiting for me.I couldn't sleep well, sitting at the kitchen table drinking whiskey.While drinking, Yukiko also took a cup to drink the same thing. "Play some music," she said. I put in the first cassette I saw, hit start, and turn the volume down so as not to wake the kids.After that we sat across the table without saying a word and drank our respective glasses for a while.

"Did you have another woman you like?" Yukiko asked while staring at my face. I nod.I think Yukiko has repeated this sentence in her head countless times before. The words have a clear outline and weight, and I can feel it from the echo. "And she likes you too—not just for fun." "Yes," I said, "it's not of a playful nature. But it's somewhat different from what you think." "You know what I'm thinking?" she asked. "You think you really understand what I'm thinking?" I am silent.Speechless.Yukiko also remained silent for a long time.The music flows in a low voice, Vivaldi or Telemann, can't remember its melody.

"What I'm thinking, I think, you're afraid, don't understand." She spit out every word slowly and carefully as if explaining something to a child. "You, sure don't understand." She looks at me.But knowing I couldn't say anything, I picked up my glass and took a sip of whiskey. "I'm not that stupid, to tell you the truth. I live and sleep with you. I've seen for a long time that you have women you like." I looked at Yukiko silently. "But I don't blame you. It's up to me who likes who. I like you naturally. You must not be enough for me alone. I don't understand that. So far we have been on good terms, you Very nice to me. I'm very happy with you. I like you even now, I think. But after all, I'm not quite a woman for you. I'm more or less aware of this, and I expect to be sooner or later. It was unavoidable that such a thing happened, so I didn't blame you for falling in love with other women. To be honest, I was not angry when I was angry. It was unbelievable to say that I was not very angry.

I'm just sad, just terribly sad.I had already imagined it, and I was afraid that it would be sad to imagine such a thing, but it was far beyond imagination. " "Sorry." I said. "No need to apologize," she said. "If you want to break up with me, it's okay to break up, don't say anything. Want to break up with me?" "I don't know." I said, "I said, can you listen to me explain a few words?" "Explanation? About you and that woman?" "Ok." Yukiko shook her head: "I don't want to hear a word about that woman. Don't add to my sadness. As for your relationship with her and what you want to do, it doesn't matter. I don't want to know anything. What I want to know is just Do you want to break up with me or not. I don’t want the house, money, or anything. I want to give you the children. Really, I’m not kidding, this. So, if you want to break up, just say you want to break up. I just want to know this One point. Don't want to hear anything else. Yes or No, which one?"

"I don't know." I said. "You mean you don't know if you want to break up with me?" "That's not. I don't know if I can answer myself." "When will it be clear?" I shake my head. "Then, think about it slowly." Yukiko sighed, "I'll wait, it's okay, take time and think about it." From that night on, I began to sleep on the sofa in the living room with the quilt.The children would get up from time to time and come over in the middle of the night, asking why Dad slept here.I explained that my father had been snoring a lot recently, so I slept separately from my mother for the time being, otherwise my mother would not be able to sleep.Sometimes one of my daughters would get under my bed, and then I would hold her tightly in my arms on the sofa.Sometimes I heard Yukiko sobbing in the bedroom. For almost two weeks thereafter, I lived with an endless stream of memories.I recalled the events of my last night with Shimamoto one by one, trying to read some kind of message from them.Thinking of Shimamoto in my arms, thinking of Shimamoto's hand reaching into the white dress, thinking of Nat "Kim" Cole's singing and the fire in the furnace, and recreating the words she said at that time. "As I said just now, there is no middle in me." Shimamoto said there, "There is no middle in me. Where there is no middle, there is no middle." "I've made up my mind, Shimamoto." I said from inside, "I've thought about it countless times during your absence, and I've made up my mind." I thought of Shimamoto's eyes staring at me from the passenger seat.That impulsive gaze seemed to be clearly branded on my cheek.Or so that's something beyond sight.Now I can feel the breath of death rippling on her body at that time.She did intend to die, and she must have gone to Hakone to die with me. "At the same time, I also take all of you, all of you! Do you understand this? Do you understand what this means?" In saying this, Shimamoto is asking for my life.Now I can understand.Just as I came to my final conclusion, she could have come to my final conclusion.Why didn't I realize it myself?Presumably she had made up her mind: After cuddling with me all night, she twirled the steering wheel of the BMW on the return highway, and the two of them died together.There is probably no other choice for her, I think.But at that time, something made her dispel the idea, and she kept everything in her heart and disappeared. I asked myself: what kind of situation is Shimamoto in?What kind of dead end was that?Who on earth forced him into that field for what purpose and in what way?Why does fleeing there necessarily mean death?I have thought about this many, many times.I lined up all the clues before myself and deduced every possible reason.But at a loss.She disappeared with a secret in her arms.Impossibly not for a period of time, he fled somewhere quietly. Thinking of this, I feel uncomfortable for a while.At the end of the day, she refused to share secrets with me, even though we were so compatible and one with each other. "Once something is advanced, it is impossible to undo it, Hatsu-kun." Shimamoto must have said so.On the sofa in the second half of the night, I can catch her voice speaking like this, and I can clearly hear the words woven by this voice. "As you said, it would be great if the two of them could go somewhere alone to start a new life! Unfortunately, it is impossible to escape from this place, physically impossible!" There, Shimamoto was a sixteen-year-old girl, standing in front of the sunflowers with a restrained smile. "After all, I shouldn't have gone to see you. I knew it from the beginning, I expected it to be so. But I couldn't bear it. I wanted to see you anyway, and I couldn't help but say hello. Well, Chu Jun, that’s me. I didn’t have that idea at first, but in the end, all my previous efforts were wasted.” It is estimated that it will be impossible to see Shimamoto in the future.She only exists in my memory.She has disappeared from my sight.She was there once, but is nowhere to be seen now.There is no so-called middle.Where there is no intermediate, there is no middle.Possibilities exist south of the border, but none exist west of the sun. I read the newspapers every day to see if there were any reports about female suicides, but I found no similar news.Many people commit suicide every day in the world, and it is others who commit suicide.A beautiful thirty-seven-year-old woman with a wonderful smile who, as far as I know, does not appear to have committed suicide.She just disappeared from my face.Outwardly I continued my daily life as before.Basically, I send the children to kindergarten and then pick them up.I sang with the children in the car.I talked to the young woman in the 260E car from time to time in front of the kindergarten gate, and only in the short time I talked to her was I able to forget my many troubles.She and I still only talked about food and clothing. Every time we met, we brought new knowledge about the vicinity of Qingshan and natural food, and we exchanged endlessly with joy. At work, I also performed my usual responsibilities properly. Every night, I put on my tie and went to the store, chatting with good regular customers, listening to the opinions and complaints of the employees, giving a small gift to the working girl on her birthday, and the musicians coming to the store. When entertaining and drinking, invite them to taste the taste of cocktails.Always remind the band to adjust the piano, remind the drunk guests not to disturb other guests, and resolve any disputes immediately.The operation of the store is almost too smooth, and everything around me is in the dark. It's just that I'm not as enthusiastic about the two stores as I used to be.Others may not see it.Outwardly, I am the same as before, and I am even calmer and more eloquent than before.However, I know what I know.Sitting on the high chair at the bar and looking around, compared with the past, many things seem to be eclipsed and dull. It is no longer a colorful sky garden with exquisite workmanship, but a noisy ordinary bar that can be seen everywhere.It's all so pretentious and superficial and shabby, just a stage set built for the pockets of drunkards.The fantasies in my mind were gone before I knew it. why?Because Shimamoto is no more, because she no longer smiles and asks for a cocktail. Life at home is also the same as in the past.I eat with them and take the children out for walks and visits to the zoo on Sundays.Yukiko also treats me—at least on the surface—as usual.The two are still talking about this and that.Generally speaking, Yukiko and I lived like old friends who happened to live under the same roof.There are words that are not suitable to be told, and facts that cannot be mentioned.But there's no cynicism between us, it's just that we don't touch each other physically.We go to bed separately at night, I sleep on the sofa in the living room, and Yukiko sleeps in the bedroom.This was probably the only tangible change in our home. Sometimes it is thought that in the end it is all just a play, that we are, one by one, masterfully playing the roles assigned to us.Therefore, even if something precious is lost from it, I am afraid that it is possible to spend every day as usual with skill and without major mistakes.This thought made me very uncomfortable.This kind of empty technical life inevitably broke Yukiko's heart, but I still couldn't answer her question.Of course I don't want to break up with Yukiko, that goes without saying.However, I no longer have the qualifications to make such a statement. After all, I once wanted to abandon her and the child.Just because Shimamoto disappeared and never came back, I can't return to my original life as a matter of course.Things are not that simple, nor should they be.What's more, Shimamoto's phantom still lingers in his mind.The phantom is that the boat is vivid and vivid, and every detail of Shimamoto's body can be vividly remembered when he closes his eyes.The feeling of her skin really remains in my palm, and the voice is still lingering in my ears, I can't embrace Yukiko with such an illusion. I wanted to be alone as much as possible, and I didn't know what to do, so I went to the pool every morning.Then I went to the office, staring at the ceiling alone, immersed in Shimamoto's fantasies endlessly.I also want to draw an end to this kind of life.I'm living in a blank space while leaving my life with Yukiko on hold, while keeping an answer to it, and this state can't last forever, no matter how you think about it, it's wrong .I had to take on my responsibilities as a husband and a father, but in reality I was completely powerless. The fantasy was always there, always holding on to me.If it rains, the situation will be even worse.As soon as it rained, an illusion came to me, thinking that Shimamoto was about to appear here, and she gently pushed the door open with the breath of rain.I can imagine the smile on her face.Whenever I said something wrong, she shook her head quietly with a smile on her face.Then all my words were powerless, dripping slowly from the realm of reality like raindrops on a windowpane.Rainy nights are always so depressing.It distorts reality and turns back time. Tired of watching the phantom, I stood in front of the window and looked at the scenery outside for a long time.It felt as if at times I had been left alone on a parched, lifeless earth, where phantoms came and went and sucked up all the color from the world around me. As far as the eye can see, all things and scenery are so dull and empty, as if they have been built perfunctorily, and they are all gray and dusty.I thought of the high school classmate who told me about Quan. He said: "There are so many ways to live and so many ways to die. It's not a big deal. The only thing left is the desert." Over the next week, several strange things happened one after another, almost as if waiting for me.On Monday morning, I suddenly remembered the envelope containing 100,000 yen, and started looking for it.It's not that there is any special purpose, it's just that the heart is moved.For years I kept it untouched in a desk drawer, the second drawer from the top, locked.I put it in this drawer along with other valuables when I moved here, and it has never been touched except to see if it is there sometimes.Unexpectedly, there were no envelopes in the drawer.This is very abnormal and bizarre.I'm 100% sure of that because I don't remember ever removing the envelope elsewhere.Out of caution, all the other drawers of the desk were pulled out, and they were turned upside down, but they still couldn't find it, nowhere. When was the last time you saw that envelope with money in it?I can't remember the exact date.Not too long ago, but not too recently.Maybe a month ago, maybe two months ago, maybe three months ago I don't know, but in the not-too-distant past I took out the envelope and clearly confirmed that it still exists. I couldn't figure out what was going on, so I sat in the chair and stared at the drawer for a while.Could it be that someone entered the room and opened the drawer and just took the envelope?This kind of thing is basically impossible (because there are cash and valuables in the table besides this), but it is not absolutely impossible as a possibility.Or maybe there's a major lapse in my memory.Maybe I dealt with that envelope unknowingly, and lost all this memory.This situation is not completely impossible.Anyway, it doesn't matter, I convinced myself that I planned to get rid of it sooner or later, so it would be easier. However, after I accepted the fact that the envelope disappeared, and after I clearly replaced the existence and non-existence of the envelope in my consciousness, the sense of reality that should have existed with the fact that the envelope existed also disappeared.This is a wonderful feeling similar to vertigo. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, this sense of absence swelled rapidly inside me, consuming my consciousness with menacing force.It squeezes and crushes the sense of existence that clearly existed, and devours it greedily. For example, we need to have reality enough to prove that an event is reality.This is because our memories and feelings are so vague and one-sided that in many cases we even find it impossible to recognize the extent to which the facts we think we know belong to the original facts and the extent to which "we perceive them as facts". fact of fact".So, in order to lock reality as reality, we need to have another reality that relativizes it—a reality adjacent to it.And this other reality adjacent to it needs grounds for relativizing it as reality.In turn, it needs another reality adjacent to it to prove that it is reality.This chain continues forever in our consciousness, and in a sense it may be said that my existence is established by the continuation of the chain, by maintaining these chains.But somewhere the chain will be interrupted for some accidental reason, and I'm immediately in trouble.Is the real reality on the other side of the section?Or is this side of the section the real reality? It was this sort of discontinuity that I was having at the time.I close the drawer and try to forget everything.That money should have been thrown away in the first place, and the very act of keeping it was a mistake. On Wednesday afternoon of the same week, while driving along Gaien Higashi-dori, I spotted a woman whose back looked very similar to Shimamoto's.The woman was wearing blue cotton trousers, a camel-colored raincoat, and flat shoes, also dragging one leg.When the eyes saw it, it seemed that all the surrounding scenery was frozen for a moment, and a blocky air-like thing went straight from the chest to the throat.It's Shimamoto!I chased in front of her in order to confirm her face with the rearview mirror, but due to the obstruction of pedestrians, I couldn't see her face clearly.I stepped on the brake, and the car behind me immediately honked loudly.The back and the length of the hair were exactly the same as Shimamoto's anyway.I wanted to stop immediately on the spot, but the road in my field of vision was full of parked cars.After driving about 200 meters forward, I found a place that could barely park a car, drove the car in, and then ran back to the place where I found her.But she was gone.I searched there like crazy.She has bad legs, she shouldn't be able to walk very far, I said to myself.I separated the crowd, crossed the road illegally, ran up the overpass, and watched the faces of passers-by from a height.My shirt was dripping with sweat.But during such a period of time, I suddenly realized that the woman I witnessed just now could not be Shimamoto. The woman's dragging leg was the opposite of Shimamoto's, and Shimamoto's leg was fine. I shook my head and let out a long sigh.I am indeed baffled.I felt like a sudden dizziness when I stood up. I leaned against the signal lamp post and stared at my feet for a long time.The signal light changes from green to red, and from red to green again.People cross the road, wait for traffic lights, and cross again.During this time, I just leaned against the signal lamp post to adjust my breathing. Opening his eyes suddenly, Quan's face appeared!Izumi was sitting in the taxi parked in front of me, watching me intently from the back seat. The taxi was waiting at a red light, and Izumi's face was less than a meter away from mine.She is no longer a seventeen-year-old girl, but I can tell at a glance that this woman is Quan, and it cannot be anyone other than Quan.In front of me is the woman I held in my arms twenty years ago, the woman I kissed for the first time, the woman I stripped naked and lost the sock of her panties when I was seventeen.No matter how much twenty years have changed a person, I will not mistake her.The classmate said that "the children are afraid of her".When I heard it, I couldn't figure out what was going on, and couldn't comprehend what this sentence was trying to express.But at this very moment when I was facing Quan in this way, I was able to fully understand what he was trying to say.There was no expression on her face.No, that's not accurate enough.I'm afraid I should put it this way—everything that can be called an expression has been taken from her face.It reminds me of a house from which every piece of furniture has been removed.Even the slightest bit of emotion didn't show up on her face, everything died quietly like the bottom of the sea.And she was staring at me with an expressionless face—I think she was staring at me, at least her eyes were looking straight at me.Yet that face said nothing to me.If she wanted to tell me anything, what she said would undoubtedly be a boundless blank. I stood there dumbstruck, dumbfounded, barely able to support my body to breathe slowly.At this time, I completely lost my existence. For a while, I didn’t even know who I was, as if the outline of myself disappeared suddenly and turned into a sticky liquid.I had no room for thinking, and almost subconsciously reached out and touched the car window glass, gently stroking the surface with my fingertips. As for what this behavior means, I don't know.A few pedestrians stopped and looked at me in surprise.But I can't help it.I slowly stroked Quan's faceless face through the glass.She didn't move a muscle, and didn't bat an eyelid.Could it be that she is dead?No, not to die, I think, she is living without blinking her eyelids, living in the world behind the silent glass window.Those motionless lips speak of endless nothingness. After a while, the signal turned green and the taxi left.Quan's face remained expressionless until the end.I stood there numbly, watching the taxi disappear into the traffic. I return to the parked position and tuck myself into the driver's seat.Gotta get out of here anyway.When I turned the key to start the engine, my mood was extremely bad, and I felt a surge of vomiting, but I couldn't vomit, I just wanted to vomit.I put my hands on the steering wheel and remained motionless for fifteen or sixteen minutes.Beads of sweat were dripping from the armpits, and the whole body seemed to be emitting an unpleasant smell.It wasn't my body that Shimamoto had gently licked all over, but the body of a middle-aged man with an unpleasant smell. After a while, the traffic police came and knocked on the glass.I opened the window, and the policeman peeped in and told me that parking was prohibited here, and told me to move away immediately.I nodded and turned the engine key. "A bad face—uncomfortable?" asked the policeman. I shook my head silently, and drove away immediately. I couldn't get back to myself for hours afterwards.I became a pure shell with nothing but a hollow sound inside.I know that I have really become a dry shell with nothing, and all the things left in my body just now are poured out.I parked the car in the Qingshan cemetery and looked at the sky outside the front car window.I think Quan is waiting for me.It is estimated that she often waits for me somewhere.In which street corner, in which glass window, waiting for my arrival.She was watching me all the time, but I didn't notice it. For the next few days I hardly spoke to anyone.Every time I opened my mouth to say something, the words disappeared, as if the nothingness she was talking about had penetrated into me. However, after that wonderful encounter with the same spring, the phantom and lingering sound of Shimamoto that surrounded me began to fade away slowly.The scenery in my eyes seemed to have regained some color, and the feeling of loneliness and helplessness like walking on the surface of the moon gradually subsided.It was as if I was witnessing what happened to someone else through a glass, and I vaguely felt that the gravity was changing subtly, and the things that were tightly attached to me were being peeled off bit by bit. At about the same time, something that had been in my mind disappeared, severed—quietly, but decisively.When the band was taking a break, I went up to the pianist and told him he could stop playing "STAR CROSSED LOVERS" from now on. I smiled and told him so in a friendly manner. "I have appreciated a lot, it is almost enough, and I am satisfied." He looked at me for a while as if calculating something.I got along very well with the pianist, a personal friend, so to speak.We often drank together and sometimes talked about personal matters. "There is still one point that I don't quite understand: Are you saying that the piece can be played without special attention, or that it should never be played again? There is a certain difference between the two. If possible, I would like to make it clear." He said. "I don't want to play it anymore." I said. "I'm afraid you don't like my performance?" "It's no problem playing, it's wonderful. There are not many people who can play that piece decently." "Then you don't want to hear that song anymore, do you?" "Is that so?" I replied. "It's kind of like Casablanca, boss," he said. "indeed." Since then, when he sees me, he plays "Far As Time" jokingly from time to time. The reason why I don't want to listen to that song again is not because I can't help but think of Shimamoto when I hear it, but because it no longer touches my heart as it used to.I don't know why, but the special thing I once found in it has disappeared.It's still beautiful music, but nothing more.I don't want to hear its corpse-like melody over and over again. "What are you thinking?" Yukiko came over and asked me. It was 2:30 in the middle of the night, and I was still asleep, lying on the sofa and staring at the ceiling. "Think of the desert," I said. "Desert?" She sat at my feet and looked at my face. "What kind of desert?" "Ordinary desert. There are sand dunes, dotted with cacti, and all kinds of things are contained in there and live there." "I'm contained there too, in the desert?" she asked. "Of course you're included there," I said. "Everyone lives there. But it's the desert that's really alive. Like the movie." "Movie?" "Desert Alive - a Disney thing, a documentary about the desert. Didn't watch it in hours?" "Didn't read it," she said. I was a little puzzled when I heard that, because we were all taken to the cinema by the school to watch that movie.But Yukiko is five years younger than me, so she must have been under the age to see that movie when it was released. "I went to the rental store to borrow a video tape and brought it back with the whole family on Sunday. The movie is good, the scenery is beautiful, and there are many animals, flowers and plants. Children can understand it." Yukiko looked at my face with a smile.It's been a long time since I saw her smile. "Want to break up with me?" she asked. "Tell you Yukiko, I love you." "That might be. But I'm asking if you still want to break up with me. No other answer." "I don't want to break up." I said, shaking my head. "Maybe I'm not qualified to say such things, but I don't want to break up with you. I really don't know what to do if I just leave you like this. I don't want to be lonely anymore. No matter how lonely I am, I'd rather die." She reached out, placed her hand gently on my chest, and stared into my eyes. "Just forget about the qualifications. I'm sure no one has the so-called qualifications." Yukiko said. I felt the warmth of Yukiko's palm on my chest, and I was thinking about death in my head.It was possible to die with Shimamoto on the highway that day.If that were the case, my body would not be here, and I would disappear, perish, like so many others.But now I exist here, with the palm of Yukiko's body temperature on my chest. "Well, Yukiko," I said, "I like you very much. I liked you the day I met you, and I still like you now. If I hadn't met you, my life would have been much, much worse. Thank you so much, this feeling cannot be expressed in words. However, I have hurt you in this way, and I think I am probably quite selfish, unethical, and worthless. I hurt people around me needlessly, and at the same time because of this Hurt yourself. Hurt others. Hurt yourself. I don’t do it because I want to, I do it because I don’t want to.” "Indeed." Yukiko said in a quiet voice.The smile seemed to linger on the corner of her mouth. "You are indeed a selfish and dishonest person, and you really hurt me." I watched Yukiko's expression for a while.She didn't mean to blame me.Not angry, not sad, just telling the truth as it is. I slowly took the time to search for words: "Throughout my previous life, I always felt that I was going to be someone else, always seemed to want to go somewhere new, start a new life, acquire a new personality there. So far I don't know how many times I repeated it. This is growth in a sense, a makeover in a sense.But anyway, I was trying to free myself from what my past self harbored by becoming another me.I have been searching for this wholeheartedly and earnestly, and I believe that as long as I work hard, it will be realized sooner or later.But in the end I don't think I'm going anywhere, I can only be me anyway.The regrets I harbor remain the same no matter what.No matter how the surrounding scenery changes, no matter how different voices are spoken by people, I can only be an incomplete person.In me there is a fatal deficiency that is always the same, and that deficiency brings me a strong hunger and thirst.This hunger and thirst, which had been tormenting me before, will, I fear, trouble me in the future as well.Because in a sense the pity itself is me, and I know that.If possible, now I want to be a new me for you, which I should be able to do.It may not be easy, but if you work hard, you can always get a new self.But to be honest, once something happens once, it may happen again, and it may hurt you in the same way. I can't make any guarantees for you.And by qualification I mean this.For this kind of power, I don't have the confidence to win the battle anyway. " "Before this, you always wanted to break free from this power?" "I think so." Yukiko's hand was still on my chest. "Poor thing," she said.The voice is like reading aloud the big words written on the wall.Or maybe it's really written like that on the wall. "I really don't know," I said, "I don't want to break up with you, that's clear. But I don't know if that's the right answer, or even if it's a choice I have.喏，有纪子，你在这里，并且痛苦，这我可以看到。我可以感觉出你的手。然而此外还存在看不到觉不出的东西——比如说情思那样的东西，可能性那样的东西。那是从什么地方渗出或纺织出来的，而它就在我心中。那是无法以自己的力量来选择或回答的东西。” 有纪子沉默有顷。夜行卡车不时从窗下的路面上驶过。我目光转向窗外，外面一无所见，惟独联结子夜与天明的无名时空横陈开去。 “拖延的时间里，我好几次想到了死。”她说，“不是吓唬你，真是这样。好几次我都想死。我就是这样孤独寂寞。死本身我想大概没有什么难的。嗯，你该知道吧？就像房间空气一点点变稀变薄一样，我心中求生的欲望渐渐变小变淡，那种时候死就不是什么难事了。 甚至小孩儿都没考虑，几乎没考虑到自己死后小孩儿会怎么样。我就是孤独寂寞到这个地步。这点你怕是不明白的吧？没有认真考虑的吧？没有考虑我感觉什么、想什么、想做什么的吧？ " 我默然无语。她把手从我胸口拿开，放在自己膝头。 “但终究我没有死，终究这样活了下来。这是因为我在想：如果有一天你回到我身边，自己到最后恐怕还是要接受的。所以我没有死。问题不在于什么资格，什么对与不对。你这人也许不地道，也许无价值，也许还要伤害我，但这些都不是问题。你肯定什么都不明白。” “我想我大概什么都不明白。”我说。 “而且什么也不想问。” 我张嘴想说什么。但话未出口。我确实什么都不想问有纪子。why?我为什么就不想问问有纪子呢？ “资格这东西，是你以后创造的。”有纪子说，“或者是我们。也许我们缺少那东西。 过去我们好像一起创造了许多东西，实际上可能什么都没创造。肯定是很多事情过于顺利了，我们怕是过于幸福了。Don't think so? " I nod. 有纪子在胸前抱起双臂，往我脸上看了一会儿。“过去我也有美梦来着，有幻想来着，可不知什么时候都烟消云散了，还是遇见你之前的事。我扼杀了它们，多半是以自己的意志扼杀了抛弃了它们，像对待不再需要的身体器官。至于对还是不对，我不知道，但我那时只能那样做，我想。我经常做梦，梦见谁把它送还给我，同样的梦不知做了多少次。梦中有人双手把它捧来，说'太大，您忘的东西'。就是这样的梦。和你生活，我一直很幸福，没有可以称得上不满的东西，没有什么更想得到的东西。尽管这样，还是有什么从后面追我。半夜一身冷汗，猛然睁眼醒来——我原本抛弃的东西在追赶我。被什么追赶着的不仅仅是你，抛弃什么失去什么的不仅仅你自己。明白我所说的？” “我想是明白的。”我说。 “你有可能再次伤害我。我也不知道那时我会怎么样。保证之类任何人都做不出，肯定。我做不出，你也做不出。但反正我喜欢你，仅此而已。” 我抱过她的身子，抚摸她的头发。 “有纪子，”我说，“从明天开始好了，我想我们可以再一次从头做起。今天就太晚了。我准备从完完整整的一天开始，好好开始。” 有纪子好半天盯住我的脸。“我在想——”她说，“你还什么都没有问我。” “我准备从明天再次开始新的生活，你对此怎么想？”我问。 “我想可以的。”有纪子淡然一笑。 有纪子折回卧室后，我仰面躺着久久注视天花板。没有任何特征的普通公寓的天花板，上面没有任何有趣的东西。但我盯住它不放。由于角度的关系，车灯有时照在上面。幻影已不再浮现。岛本乳峰的感触、语音的余韵、肌肤的气味都已无法那么真切地记起。时而想起泉那没有表情的面孔，想起自己的脸同她的脸之间的车窗玻璃的感触。每当这时，我便紧闭双眼想有纪子，在脑海中反复推出有纪子刚才的话。我闭目合眼，侧耳倾听自己体内的动静。大概我即将发生变化，而且也必须变化。 至于自己身上有没有足以永远保护有纪子和孩子们的力量，我还无由得知。幻想已不再帮助我，已不再为我编织梦幻。空白终究是空白，很长时间里我将身体沉浸在空白中，力求让自己的身体适应空白。那是自己的归宿，必须安居其中。而从今往后我势必为别的什么人编织梦幻了，对方要求我这样做。我不知道那样的梦幻到头来具有多大作用力。但是，既然我企图从当下的我这一存在中觅出某种意义，那么就必须竭尽全力继续这一作业，大概。 黎明时分，我终于放弃了睡眠。我把对襟毛衣披在睡衣外面，去厨房冲咖啡喝着。我坐在餐桌旁，眼望渐次泛白的天空。实在已有很久没看天明了。天空的尽头出现一道蓝边，如沁入白纸的蓝墨水一般缓缓向四面扩展。它竟是那样的蓝，仿佛汇聚了全世界大凡所有的蓝而从中仅仅抽出无论谁看都无疑是蓝的颜色用来划出一道。我以肘拄桌，有所思又无所思地往那边凝望着。然而当太阳探出地表以后，那道蓝色顷刻间便被日常性白光吞噬一尽。墓地上方只漂浮着一片云，轮廓分明的、纯白色的云，仿佛可以在上面写字的清清楚楚的云。另一个新的一天开始了。至于这新的一天将给我带来什么，我却无从推断。 往下我将把孩子送去幼儿园，接着去游泳池，一如往日。我想起初中期间去过的游泳池，想起那座游泳池的气味和天花板的回音，那时我正要成为新的什么。每当立于镜前，我都能够看出自己身体的变化，安静的夜晚里甚至能够听到肉体发育的响动。我即将身披新的自己这层外衣踏入新的场所。 我仍坐在厨房桌旁，仍静静地注视墓地上空漂浮的云。云纹丝不动，俨然被订在天穹上完全静止了。我想差不多该叫醒女儿们了。天早已大亮，女儿们得起床了。她们比我更强烈更迫切地需要新的一天，我应当走到她们床前掀开被子，手放在柔软而温暖的身体上告知新一天的到来。这是我的当务之急。然而我无论如何也无法从厨房桌前站起，似乎所有气力都已从身上消失，就好像有人悄悄绕到我背后轻轻拔去我的体塞。我臂肘柱着桌面，双手捂脸。 黑暗中我想到落于海面的雨——浩瀚无边的大海上无声无息地、不为任何人知晓地降落的雨。雨安安静静地叩击海面，鱼们甚至都浑然不觉。 我一直在想这样的大海，直到有人走来把手轻轻放在我的背上。