“That's right. Her parents came up from the country and everything. It was all really crazy,” I said, realizing as I said it that it was a strange response.

“I can imagine. She had some kind of job, right? Something bizarre?”

“Yeah, it was a little bizarre. I hadn't even known such a job existed.”

“Was that why she died? Because of her job?”

“Well . . . I don't know. But I don't think so.”

“Yeah, I guess that's something only she would know. I mean, she was always smiling, you know? And she was such a wonderful person. I just can't see how she could have been in such pain that she felt she had to die.”

“Me neither.”

We settled into silence for a time as we descended the wide street that led down the hill, walking slowly side by side. Several cars drove past us, and dazzling streams of sunlight hit us straight on. This man walking beside me has access to the same images of Shiori that I do, scenes only those of us who lived with her can know . . . Shiori with damp hair, Shiori cutting her nails, Shiori seen from behind as she washes the dishes, Shiori's sleeping face bathed in the morning sun. Somehow this seemed very strange to me.

“So are you still as amoral as ever?” he said suddenly, grinning.

“Well that's a nice thing to say!” I replied, grinning back at him. “But I still am. We haven't broken up yet and he's still married.”

“You really ought to try having a serious relationship, you know.” My friend's voice was bright, without any sort of undertone at all, but this only made its impact stronger. “But then you were always mature for your age, weren't you? I guess you just like people older than you.”

“Right. That's it.” I smiled.

Though I was actually so serious about the relationship it frightened me, so serious my hands and legs started trembling whenever I considered what things would be like if it ended. And my emotions still continued to smolder, even though my boyfriend and I could have broken up at any time without it seeming at all strange.

“Well, see you later. Call me if there's a party or anything.”

We'd reached the entrance to the subway. My friend raised his hand as he spoke, then descended the dimly lit stairs underground. I stood there in the burning sunlight watching his back until it vanished, feeling a little sad, unwilling to part. It felt like all the brightness inside me had slipped down the stairs with that back. I was alone in a sprawling emptiness.