Haruki Murakami - Sputnik Sweetheart

She might be a virgin, Miu suddenly thought.

After putting on the silk pyjamas, Sumire lay down again in bed, on the far side. Miu got into bed, where the scent of sweat remained strong.

“Can I,” Sumire began, “just hold you for a while?”

“Hold me?”

“Yes.”

While Miu wondered how to respond, Sumire reached out and clasped her hand. Her palm was still sweaty, warm and soft. She reached both hands behind Miu. Sumire’s breasts pushed against Miu, just above her stomach. Sumire pressed her cheek between Miu’s breasts. They remained that way for a long time. Sumire seemed to be shaking, ever so slightly. She must be crying, Miu thought. But it was as if she couldn’t let it all out. Miu reached around Sumire’s shoulder and drew her closer. She’s still a child, Miu thought. Lonely and frightened, she wants someone’s warmth. Like that kitten clinging to a pine branch.

Sumire shifted her body upwards a bit. The tip of her nose brushed Miu’s neck. Their breasts pressed together. Miu gulped. Sumire’s hand wandered over her back.

“I really like you,” Sumire said in a small voice.

“I like you, too,” Miu said. She didn’t know what else to say. And it was the truth.

Sumire’s fingers started to unbutton the front of Miu’s pyjamas. Miu tried to stop her. But Sumire wouldn’t stop. “Just a little,” she said. “Just a little— please.”

Miu lay there unresisting. Sumire’s fingers gently traced the contours of Miu’s breasts. Her nose flickered back and forth at Miu’s throat. She touched Miu’s nipple, stroked it gently, and held it between two fingers. Hesitantly at first, then more boldly.

Miu stopped speaking. She looked up, searchingly, at me. Her cheeks were slightly flushed.

“There’s something I need to explain to you. A long time ago I had a very unusual experience, and my hair turned pure white. Overnight, completely. Since then I’ve dyed my hair. Sumire knew I dyed it, and since it was too much trouble after we came to this island, I gave up. Nobody knows me here, so it didn’t matter. But knowing you’d be coming, I dyed it again. I didn’t want to give you a strange first impression.”

Time flowed past in the ensuing silence.

“I’ve never had a homosexual experience, and never considered I had those tendencies. But if that’s what Sumire really wanted, I thought I could oblige. At least I didn’t find it disgusting. As long as it was with Sumire, that is. So I didn’t resist when she started feeling me all over, or when she stuck her tongue inside my mouth. It felt strange, but I tried to get used to it. I let her do what she wanted. I like Sumire, and if it made her happy, I didn’t mind what she did.

“But my body and my mind are two different things. A part of me was happy that Sumire was caressing me so lovingly. But no matter how happy my mind was, my body resisted. It wouldn’t yield to her. My heart and my head were aroused, but the rest of me was like a hard, dry stone. It’s sad, but I couldn’t help it. Of course Sumire picked up on that. Her body was flushed and gently damp, but I couldn’t respond.

“I told her how I felt. ‘I’m not rejecting you,’ I said, ‘but I just can’t do that kind of thing. Ever since that happened to me, 14

years ago, I haven’t been able to give myself to anyone in this world. It’s something that’s out of my hands, decided somewhere else.’ I told her that if there was anything I could do, you know, with my fingers, or mouth, I would. But that isn’t what she wanted. I knew that already.”

”She kissed me on the forehead and said she was sorry. ‘It’s just that I like you,’ she said. ‘I’ve worried about it for so long, and I had to try.’ ‘I like you, too,’ I told her. ‘So don’t worry about it. I still want you to be with me.’

“As if a dam had burst, Sumire sobbed into her pillow for the longest time. As she cried, I rubbed her bare back from the top of her shoulder to her waist, feeling all her bones. I wanted to cry along with her, but I couldn’t.

“And it came to me then. That we were wonderful travelling companions, but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal on their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they’re nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we’d be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing.”

“After crying her heart out, Sumire got up, picked up the pyjamas that had fallen to the floor and slipped them on,” said Miu. “She said she wanted to be alone and was going back to her room. ‘Don’t think too deeply about things,’ I told her.

‘Tomorrow’s a new day, things will work out just like before. You’ll see.’ ‘I guess so,’ Sumire said. She leaned over and held her cheek against mine. Her cheek was wet and warm. She whispered something in my ear, I think. But in such a small voice I couldn’t make it out. I was about to ask her what she said, but she’d already turned away.”

”Sumire wiped her tears away with the bath towel and left the room. The door closed, and I snuggled back under the covers and closed my eyes. After an experience like that, I thought it would be hard to sleep, but strangely enough I soon fell fast asleep.

“When I woke up at seven the next morning, Sumire was nowhere in the house. Perhaps she woke up early—or maybe never got back to sleep—and went to the beach by herself. She said she wanted to be alone for a while. It was odd that she didn’t even leave a note, but considering the night before, I guessed she was still pretty upset and confused.

“I did the washing, hung out her bedding to dry, and sat on the veranda, reading, waiting for her to come back. The whole morning passed, and no Sumire. I was worried, so I looked through her room, even though I knew I shouldn’t. I was afraid maybe she’d left the island. But her bags were still open, her passport was still in her handbag, her swimsuit and socks drying in a corner of her room. Coins, notepaper, and a bunch of keys lay scattered on her desk. One of the keys was for the front door of the cottage.

“It all felt weird to me. What I mean is whenever we went to the beach we always wore heavy trainers and T-shirts over our swimsuits as we walked over the mountains. With a canvas bag with our towels and mineral water. But she’d left it all behind—the bag, shoes, and swimsuit. The only things missing were the pair of cheap flip-flops she’d bought at a local shop and the pair of thin silk pyjamas I’d lent her. Even if you only meant to take a walk around the neighbourhood, you wouldn’t stay out long dressed like that, would you?

“In the afternoon I went out to scour the area for her. I made a couple of circuits nearby, went to the beach, then walked back and forth down the streets of the town, and finally returned home. But Sumire was nowhere to be found. The sun was setting, and night came on. The wind had picked up. All night long I could hear the sound of the waves. Any little sound woke me up. I left the front door unlocked. Dawn came, and still no Sumire. Her bed was just as I’d left it. So I went down to the local police station near the harbour.”

“I explained everything to one of the policemen, one who spoke English. ‘The girl who was travelling with me has disappeared,’ I told him, ‘and hasn’t been back for two nights.’ He didn’t take me seriously. ‘Your friend will be back,’ he said. ‘It happens all the time. Everyone lets their hair down here. It’s summer, they’re young, what do you expect?’ I went again the next day, and this time they paid a bit more attention. Not that they were going to do anything about it. I phoned the Japanese embassy in Athens and explained the situation. Thankfully, the person there was quite kind. He said something in no uncertain terms in Greek to the police chief, and the police finally started getting an investigation up and running.