* * *

No, I just wouldn't be able to explain. The harder I would try to make him understand the more my words would turn to dust, the more they'd get caught up in their own momentum, a wind that would blow them out of existence—this much was clear to me, and so I said nothing. All those words I'd thought up wouldn't communicate a thing. Ultimately the only part that was true was the beginning. A friend of mine has died. How else was I supposed to express the loneliness I felt? How else could I make him see?

I stayed lost in thought as we walked along under the near-summer night sky. Then, as we crossed the large pedestrian bridge in front of the train station, he spoke.

“I can go to work in the afternoon tomorrow.”

The lines of cars shimmered, one car after another, curving off into the distance. Suddenly it felt as if the night had become infinitely long, suddenly I felt happy. I found myself able to forget Shiori entirely.

“So we'll stay someplace tonight?”

I took his hand as I said this, unable to contain my joy.

His profile was graced, as always, by a small smile.

“Looks like it,” he replied.

I was happy. I loved the night, I loved it so much it almost hurt. In the night everything seemed possible. I wasn't sleepy at all.

* * *

Sometimes when I was in bed with my boyfriend I would see the edge of night. The scenery there was unlike anything I'd ever encountered.

It didn't happen while we were doing it. Then it was just the two of us together, nothing separating us, no room for our minds to wander. He didn't speak during sex, he never said anything, and so I'd often fool around trying to get him to say this or that. But to tell the truth, I liked it that he kept quiet. It felt somehow like I was sleeping with an enormous night, just doing it through him. As long as he didn't use words it felt like I was embracing his true self, encircling it—a self that existed at a level much more profound than the actual man. Until we pulled our bodies apart, ready to fall asleep, I could get by without thinking of anything at all. I could just close my eyes and feel him, nothing but the true him.

I'd see it very late at night.

It made no difference whether it was a large hotel or a cheap motel like the ones you find behind train stations. Either way I'd wake up suddenly in the middle of the night, thinking I could hear the sounds of rain and wind.

I'd want so badly to see what it was like outside that I'd sit up and open the window. A bracingly cold wind would flow into the room, breaking through the hot air that filled it, and I'd see the stars blinking. Or perhaps a soft rain would be just starting to fall.