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he picked me to be his friend。 I was just an ordinary kid who liked to
read books and listen to music and didn't stand out in any way that
would prompt someone like Kizuki to pay attention to me。 We hit it
off straight away； though。 His father was a dentist； known for his
professional skill and his high fees。
〃Want to double…date Sunday？〃 he asked me just after we met。 〃My
girlfriend goes to a girls' school； and she'll bring along a cute one for
you。〃
〃Sure；〃 I said； and that was how I met Naoko。
The three of us spent a lot of time together； but whenever Kizuki left
the room； Naoko and I had trouble talking to each other。 We never
knew what to talk about。 And in fact there was no topic of
conversation that we had in mon。 Instead of talking； we'd drink
water or toy with something on the table and wait for Kizuki to e
back and start up the conversation again。 Naoko was not particularly
talkative； and I was more of a listener than a talker； so I felt
unfortable when I was left alone with her。 Not that we were
inpatible： we just had nothing to talk about。
Naoko and I saw each other only once after Kizuki's funeral。 Two
weeks after the event； we met at a caf茅 to take care of some minor
matter； and when that was finished we had nothing more to say。 I tried
raising several different topics； but none of them led anywhere。 And
when Naoko did talk； there was an edge to her voice。 She seemed
angry with me； but I had no idea why。 We never saw each other again
until that day a year later we happened to meet on the Chuo Line in
Tokyo。
Naoko might have been angry with me because I； not she； had been
the last one to see Kizuki。 That may not be the best way to put it； but I
more or less understood how she felt。 I would have swapped places
with her if I could have； but finally； what had happened had happened；
and there was nothing I could do about it。
It had been a nice afternoon in May。 After lunch； Kizuki suggested we
skip classes and go play pool or something。 I had no special interest in
my afternoon classes； so together we left school； ambled down the hill
to a pool hall on the harbour； and played four games。 When I won the
first； easy…going game； he became serious and won the next three。
This meant I paid； according to our custom。 Kizuki didn't make a
single joke as we played； which was most unusual。 We smoked
afterwards。
〃Why so serious？〃 I asked。
〃I didn't want to lose today；〃 said Kizuki with a satisfied smile。
He died that night in his garage。 He led a rubber hose from the exhaust
pipe of his N…360 to a window； taped over the gap in the window； and
revved the engine。 I have no idea how long it took him to die。 His
parents had been out visiting a sick relative； and when they opened the
garage to put their car away； he was already dead。 His radio was
going； and a petrol station receipt was tucked under the windscreen
wiper。
Kizuki had left no suicide note； and had no motive that anyone could
think of。 Because I had been the last one to see him； I was called in for
questioning by the police。 I told the investigating officer that Kizuki
had given no indication of what he was about to do； that he had been
exactly the same as always。 The policeman had obviously formed a
poor impression of both Kizuki and me； as if it was perfectly natural
for the kind of person who would skip classes and play pool to
mit suicide。 A small article in the paper brought the affair to a
close。 Kizuki's parents got rid of his red N…360。 For a time； a white
flower marked his school desk。
In the ten months between Kizuki's death and my exams； I was unable
to find a place for myself in the world around me。 I started sleeping
with one of the girls at school； but that didn't last six months。 Nothing
about her really got to me。 I applied to a private university in Tokyo；
the kind of place with an entrance exam for which I wouldn't have to
study much； and I passed without exhilaration。 The girl asked me not
to go to Tokyo … 〃It's 500 miles from here！〃 she pleaded … but I had to
get away from Kobe at any cost。 I wanted to begin a new life where I
didn't know a soul。
〃You don't give a damn about me any more； now that you've slept
with me；〃 she said； crying。
〃That's not true；〃 I insisted。 〃I just need to get away from this town。〃
But she was not prepared to understand me。 And so we parted。
Thinking about all the things that made her so much nicer than the
other girls at home； I sat on the bullet train to Tokyo feeling terrible
about what I'd done； but there was no way to undo it。 I would try to
forget her。
There was only one thing for me to do when I started my new life in
the dorm： stop taking everything so seriously； establish a proper
distance between myself and everything else。 Forget about green baize
pool tables and red N…360s and white flowers on school desks； about
smoke rising from tall crematorium chimneys； and chunky
paperweights in police interrogation rooms。 It seemed to work at first。
I tried hard to forget； but there remained inside me a vague knot of air。
And as time went by； the knot began to take on a clear and simple
form； a form that I am able to put into words； like this：
Death exists； not as the opposite but as a part of life。
It's a clich茅 translated into words； but at the time I felt it not as words
but as that knot of air inside me。 Death exists … in a paperweight； in
four red and white balls on a pool table … and we go on living and
breathing it into our lungs like fine dust。
Until that time； I had understood death as something entirely separate
from and independent of life。 The hand of death is bound to take us； I
had felt； but until the day it reaches out for us； it leaves us alone。 This
had seemed to me the simple； logical truth。 Life is here； death is over
there。 I am here； not over there。
The night Kizuki died； however； I ost the ability to see death （and l
life） in such simple terms。 Death was not the opposite of life。 It was
already here； within my being； it had
always been here； and no struggle would permit me to forget that。
When it took the 17…year…old Kizuki that night in May； death took me
as well。
I lived through the following spring； at 18； with that knot of air in my
chest； but I struggled all the while against be ing serious。
Being serious was not the same thing as approaching the truth； I
sensed； however vaguely。 But death was a fact； a serious fact； no
matter how you looked at it。 Stuck inside this suffocating
contradiction； I went on endlessly spinning in circles。 Those were
strange days； now that I look back at them。 In the midst of life；
everything revolved around death。
銆�
3。txt
Norwegian Wood
3
Naoko called me the following Saturday； and that Sunday we had a
date。 I suppose I can call it a date。 I can't think of a better word for it。
As before； we walked the streets。 We stopped somewhere
for coffee； walked some more； had dinner in the evening； and
said goodbye。 Again； she talked only in snatches； but this didn't seem
to bother her； and I made no special effort to keep the conve