Haruki Murakami - Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

Almost without thinking, Tsukuru stood up and went around to the opposite side of the table. Without a word he laid his hand on Eri’s shoulder. She still had her face in her hands. As he touched her, he felt her trembling, a trembling the eye couldn’t detect.

“Tsukuru?” Eri’s voice leaked out from between her fingers. “Could you do something for me?”

“Of course,” Tsukuru said.

“Could you hold me?”

Tsukuru asked her to stand up, then drew her to him. Her full breasts lay tightly against his chest, as if testimony to something. Her hands were warm where she held his back, her cheek soft and wet as it pressed against his neck.

“I don’t think I’ll ever go back to Japan again,” Eri murmured. Her warm, damp breath brushed his ear. “Everything I see would remind me of Yuzu. And of our—”

Tsukuru said nothing, only continued to hold her tightly against him.

Their embrace would be visible through the open window. Someone might pass by and see them. Edvard and his children might be back at any moment. But that didn’t matter. They didn’t care what others thought. He and Eri had to hold each other now, as much as they wanted. They had to let their skin touch, and drive away the long shadow cast by evil spirits. This was, no doubt, why he’d come here in the first place.

They held each other for a long time—how long he couldn’t say. The white curtain at the window went on flapping in the breeze that came from across the lake. Eri’s cheeks stayed wet, and Alfred Brendel went on playing the “Second Year: Italy” suite. “Petrarch’s Sonnet 47,” then “Petrarch’s Sonnet 104.” Tsukuru knew every note. He could have hummed it all if he’d wanted to. For the first time he understood how deeply he’d listened to this music, and how much it meant to him.

They didn’t speak. Words were powerless now. Like a pair of dancers who had stopped mid-step, they simply held each other quietly, giving themselves up to the flow of time. Time that encompassed both past and present, and even a portion of the future. Nothing came between their two bodies, as her warm breath brushed his neck. Tsukuru shut his eyes, letting the music wash over him as he listened to Eri’s heartbeat. The beating of her heart kept time with the slap of the little boat against the pier.

They sat back down again, across from each other at the table, and took turns opening up about what was in their hearts. Things they had not put into words for ages, things they’d been holding back deep in their souls. Removing the lids on their hearts, pulling open the doors of memory, revealing honest feelings, as the other, all the while, listened quietly.

Eri spoke first.

“In the end I abandoned Yuzu. I had to get away from her. I wanted to get as far away as I could from whatever it was that possessed her. That’s why I got into pottery, married Edvard, and moved to Finland. I didn’t plan it, of course, it just turned out that way. I did sort of have the feeling that doing so meant I’d never have to take care of Yuzu again. I loved her more than I loved anyone—she was like another self—so I wanted to help her as much as I could. But I was exhausted. Taking care of her for so long had completely worn me out. And no matter how much I tried to help her, I couldn’t stop her retreat from reality. It was awful for me. If I’d stayed in Nagoya, I think my mind would have started to go, too. I don’t know, maybe I’m just making excuses?”

“You’re just saying how you felt. That’s different from making excuses.”

Eri bit her lip. “But the fact remains that I abandoned her. And Yuzu went by herself to Hamamatsu and was murdered. She had the most slender, lovely neck, do you remember? Like a pretty bird, the kind of neck that could snap so easily. If I’d been in Japan that probably would never have happened to her. I would never have let her go off to some town she didn’t know, all by herself.”

“Perhaps. But even if it hadn’t been then, the same thing might have happened later, in some other place. You weren’t Yuzu’s guardian. You couldn’t keep watch over her every second of every day. You had your own life. There’s only so much you could have done.”

Eri shook her head. “I told myself that, I don’t know how many times. But it didn’t help. A part of me wanted to get far away from her, to protect myself. I can’t deny that. Apart from the question of her being saved or not, I had to deal with my own conflict. And in the process, I lost you, too. In giving priority to the problems Yuzu had, I had to abandon Tsukuru Tazaki, who had done nothing wrong. I wounded you deeply, all because it suited the situation as I saw it. Even though I loved you so much …”

Tsukuru didn’t say a word.

“But that’s not the whole story,” Eri said.

“No?”

“Truthfully, I didn’t abandon you just because of Yuzu. That’s a superficial justification. I did it because I’m a coward. I didn’t have any confidence in myself as a woman. I was sure that no matter how much I loved you, you would never reciprocate. I was sure you were in love with Yuzu. That’s why I was able to cut you off so cruelly. I did it to sever my feelings for you. If I had only had a little more confidence and courage, and no stupid pride, I never would have abandoned you like that, no matter what the circumstances. But something was wrong with me back then. I know I did something terrible. And I am truly sorry for it.”

Silence descended on them.

“I should have apologized to you a long time ago,” Eri finally said. “I know that very well. But I just couldn’t. I was too ashamed of myself.”

“You don’t need to worry about me anymore,” Tsukuru said. “I survived the crisis. Swam through the night sea on my own. Each of us did what we had to do, in order to survive. I get the feeling that, even if we had made different decisions then, even if we had chosen to do things differently, we might have still ended up pretty much where we are now.”

Eri bit her lip and considered this. “Will you tell me one thing?” she said after a while.

“Name it.”

“If I had come right out then and told you I loved you, would you have gone out with me?”

“Even if you’d said that right to my face, I probably wouldn’t have believed it,” Tsukuru said.

“Why not?”

“I couldn’t imagine anyone saying they loved me, or wanting to be my girlfriend.”

“But you were kind, cool, and calm, and you’d already figured out your path in life. Plus you were good-looking.”

Tsukuru shook his head. “I have a really boring face. I’ve never liked my looks.”

Eri smiled. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you really do have a very boring face and something was wrong with me. But at least for a silly sixteen-year-old girl, you were handsome enough. I dreamed about how wonderful it would be to have a boyfriend like you.”

“Can’t claim to have much of a personality either.”

“Everyone alive has a personality. It’s just more obvious with some people than with others.” Eri’s eyes narrowed and she looked straight at him. “So, tell me—how would you have replied? Would you have let me be your girlfriend?”

“Of course I would have,” Tsukuru said. “I really liked you. I was really attracted to you, in a different way from how I was attracted to Yuzu. If you had told me then how you felt, of course I would have loved for you to be my girlfriend. And I think we would have been happy together.”

The two of them would have likely been a close couple, with a fulfilling love life, Tsukuru decided. There would have been so much they could have shared. On the surface, their personalities seemed so different—Tsukuru introverted and reticent, Eri sociable and talkative—yet they both shared a desire to create and build things with their own hands, things that were meaningful. Tsukuru had the feeling, though, that this closeness would have been short-lived. An unavoidable fissure would have grown between what he and Eri wanted from their lives. They were still in their teens then, still discovering their own paths, and eventually they would have reached a fork and gone off in separate directions. Without fighting, without hurting each other, naturally, calmly. And it did turn out that way, didn’t it, Tsukuru thought, with him going to Tokyo and building stations, and Eri marrying Edvard and moving to Finland.