Haruki Murakami - Kafka on the Shore

The boy named Crow continues. "Your mother felt a gut-wrenching kind of fear and anger inside her, okay? Just like you do now. Which is why she had to abandon you."

"Even though she loved me?"

"Even though she loved you, she had to abandon you. You need to understand how she felt then, and learn to accept it. Understand the overpowering fear and anger she experienced, and feel it as your own-so you won't inherit it and repeat it. The main thing is this: You have to forgive her. That's not going to be easy, I know, but you have to do it. That's the only way you can be saved. There's no other way!"

I think about what he's said. The more I think about it, the more confused I get. My head's spinning, and I feel like my skin's being ripped away. "Is Miss Saeki really my mother?" I ask.

"Didn't she tell you that theory is still functional?" the boy named Crow says. "So that's the answer. It's still a functioning hypothesis. That's all I can tell you."

"A working hypothesis until some good counterevidence comes along."

"You got it," Crow says.

"And I have to pursue that hypothesis as far as it'll take me."

"That's it," Crow replies pointedly. "A theory that still doesn't have any good counterevidence is one worth pursuing. And right now, pursuing it's the only choice you have. Even if it means sacrificing yourself, you have to pursue it to the bitter end."

"Sacrifice myself?" That certainly has a strange ring to it. I can't quite grasp it.

There's no reply. Worried, I turn around. The boy named Crow is still there. He's right behind, keeping pace.

"What sort of fear and anger did Miss Saeki have at that time?" I ask him as I turn back around and walk on. "And where did it come from?"

"What kind of fear and anger do you think she had?" the boy named Crow asks in return. "Think about it. You've got to figure it out yourself. That's what your head's for."

So I do just that. I have to understand it, accept it, before it's too late. But I still can't make out that delicate writing left on the shore of my consciousness. There's not enough time between one wave and the next.

"I'm in love with Miss Saeki," I say. The words slip out naturally.

"I know that," the boy named Crow says curtly.

"I've never felt that before," I go on. "And it's more important to me than anything else I've ever experienced."

"Of course it is," Crow says. "That goes without saying. That's why you've come all this way."

"But I still don't get it. You're telling me my mother loved me very much. I want to believe you, but if that's true, I just don't get it. Why does loving somebody mean you have to hurt them just as much? I mean, if that's the way it goes, what's the point of loving someone? Why the hell does it have to be like that?"

I wait for an answer. I keep my mouth shut for a long time, but there's no response, so I spin around. The boy named Crow is gone. From up above I hear the flap of wings.

You're totally confused.

Not long afterward, the two soldiers appear.

They're wearing battle fatigues of the old Imperial army. Short-sleeved summer uniforms, gaiters, and knapsacks. No helmets, just caps with bills, and some kind of black face paint. Both of them are young. One of them's tall and thin, with round, metal-framed glasses. The other one's short, broad-shouldered, and muscular. They're both sitting on a flat rock, neither one looking like he's about to leap into battle. Their Arisaka rifles are on the ground by their feet. The tall soldier seems bored and is chewing on a stem of grass. The two of them look completely natural, like they belong here. Unperturbed, they watch as I approach.

There's a small flat clearing around them, like a landing on a staircase.

"Hey," the tall soldier calls out cheerfully.

"How ya doing?" the brawny one says with the smallest of frowns.

"How are you?" I greet them back. I know I should be amazed to see them, but somehow it doesn't seem weird at all. It's entirely within the realm of possibility.

"We were waiting for you," the tall one says.

"For me?" I ask.

"Sure," he replies. "No one else is coming out here, that's for sure."

"We've been waiting a long time," the brawny one says.

"Not that time's much of a factor here," the tall one adds. "Still, you took longer than I figured."

"You're the two guys who disappeared in this forest a long, long time ago, right?" I ask. "During maneuvers?"

The brawny soldier nods. "That's us."

"They searched everywhere for you," I say.

"Yeah, I know," he says. "I know they were looking for us. I know everything that goes on in this forest. But they're not about to find us, no matter how hard they look."

"Actually, we didn't get lost," the tall one says. "We ran away."

"Not running away so much as just stumbling onto this spot and deciding to stay put," the brawny one adds. "That's different from getting lost."

"Not just anybody can find this place," the tall soldier says. "But we did, and now you have too. It was a stroke of luck-for us, at least."

"If we hadn't found this spot, they would've shipped us overseas," the brawny one explains. "Over there it was kill or be killed. That wasn't for us. I'm a farmer, originally, and my buddy here just graduated from college. Neither one of us wants to kill anybody. And being killed's even worse. Kind of obvious, I'd say."

"How 'bout you?" the tall one asks me. "Would you like to kill anybody, or be killed?"

I shake my head. No, neither one, definitely not.

"Everybody feels like that," the tall one says. "Or the vast majority, at least. But if you say, Hey, I don't want to go off to war, the country's not about to break out in smiles and give you permission to skip out. You can't run away. Japan's a small country, so where are you going to run to? They'll track you down so fast it'll make your head spin. That's why we stayed here. This is the only place we could hide." He shakes his head and goes on. "And we've stayed here ever since. Like you said, from a long, long time ago. Not that time's a major factor here. There's almost no difference at all between now and a long, long time ago."

"No difference at all," the brawny one says, waving something away with his hand.

"You knew I was coming?" I ask.

"Sure thing," the brawny one replies.

"We've been standing guard here for a long time, so we know if somebody's coming," the other one said. "We're like part of the forest."

"This is the entrance," the brawny one says. "And we're guarding it."

"And right now the entrance happens to be open," the tall one explains. "Before long, though, it'll close up. If you want to come in, now's the time. It doesn't open up all that often."

"We'll lead the way," the brawny one says. "The path's hard to follow, so you need someone to guide you in."

"If you don't come in, then go back where you came from," the tall one says. "It's not all that hard to find your way back, so don't worry about it. You'll do fine. Then you'll return to the world you came from, to the life you've been living. The choice is entirely up to you. Nobody's going to force you to do one or the other. But once you're in, it isn't easy to turn back."

"Take me inside," I answer without a moment's hesitation.

"Are you sure?" the brawny one asks.

"Somebody's inside I have to see," I say. "At least I think so…"

Slowly, silently, the two of them get up off the rock and shoulder their rifles. They exchange a glance and walk on ahead of me.

"You must think it's strange we still lug around these heavy lumps of steel," the tall one says, turning around. "They're worthless. Never had any bullets anyway."

"But they're a kind of sign," the brawny one says, not looking back at me. "A sign of what we left behind."