Read Online The Lake by Banana Yoshimoto - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Banana Yoshimoto
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world,” Nakajima said. “I want to see them so badly I can’t stand it. All the time. Lately, now that I’m with you, I’ve been feeling more desperate than ever to see them, like I can’t hold myself back anymore.”
“And how many friends are we talking about?” I asked.
“Two,” Nakajima said. “They’re brother and sister, both old friends.”
I had no idea where Nakajima wanted to take me, but I trusted him implicitly. I trusted him with my whole body, even with my skin. When you’re with someone every day, if there’s even the tiniest glimmer of a contradiction inside them, you pick up on it. Nakajima was an uneven sort of character, it was true, but he always struck me as totally sincere.
“All right, then, let’s go. Is it far?”
“About three hours, including changing trains.”
“Will it be expensive?”
“I’ll pay. I’m the one dragging you along, after all.”
“That’s okay. I’ll enjoy the trip, too.”
“No, I should get the tickets and everything.”
“Really, I’m in pretty good financial shape now.” I laughed. “I’ve got a job.”
“Why are you so willing to go with me, anyway?” Nakajima said, looking a bit surprised. “You don’t even know where it is. I’d never be able to go on a trip like that.”
“It’s someplace you really want to go, right, even though it hurts?” I said. “It’s only natural that I come along, if I’m the only person who’s able to help you do that. After all, you’re here in my apartment every day. We see each other all the time, and we’re together because we like being together, not because we have to be.”
If I were really in love, I don’t think I could have said that. I probably would have tried to toy with his feelings a bit more, or maybe I would have had trouble finding the words. But all I felt then was a desire to help. And while I didn’t yet know the reason, it frightened me much more to think of him getting hurt than it did to think of someone else getting hurt. Just the idea made me shudder, and left me feeling as if a heavy stone had lodged in my chest.
“Thank you,” Nakajima said quietly.
The next day, we took a train headed north.
We got off at a small station and started walking. There was still a chill in the air—it was the sort of weather that makes your face feel cold, but doesn’t do anything more than that.
From time to time, a cool ray of sunlight shone through the clouds.
There were trees everywhere, their new leaves just beginning to appear. Even the greenest branches were dotted, here and there, with sensuous, round buds, clenched but swelling, vibrant in the haze of fresh growth. The air was clear; I could feel it coursing through my body. Soon we had left behind the kernel of activity around the small-town station, and after that it was just Nakajima and me ambling along nondescript streets. The mountains in the distance were still capped with snow. That white and the brown of the trees rolled on and on under the blue sky, a dry pairing of colors.
Then, at last, we came to a small lake.
It was a weekday, so there was no one around. The water was so still you almost felt like it would absorb any sounds that reached it. The surface might have been a mirror. Then a wind blew up and sent small waves drifting across it. The only sound was the chirping of birds that whirled around us, high and low.
“It’s over near that shrine.” Nakajima pointed. “Where my friends live.”
A small red torii was visible on the far shore of the lake.
I looked up at Nakajima. He was sweating buckets, and his face was pale.
“Are you okay?”
I took his hand in mine.
“I’m okay. This is the hardest part. I’ll be fine once we actually get there.”
Nakajima’s hand was frighteningly cold.
What horrors had he endured? I wondered. Physically, emotionally.
Poor guy. Those were the words that came to me. There wasn’t anything else I could say. I knew my sympathy was useless, but I
“And how many friends are we talking about?” I asked.
“Two,” Nakajima said. “They’re brother and sister, both old friends.”
I had no idea where Nakajima wanted to take me, but I trusted him implicitly. I trusted him with my whole body, even with my skin. When you’re with someone every day, if there’s even the tiniest glimmer of a contradiction inside them, you pick up on it. Nakajima was an uneven sort of character, it was true, but he always struck me as totally sincere.
“All right, then, let’s go. Is it far?”
“About three hours, including changing trains.”
“Will it be expensive?”
“I’ll pay. I’m the one dragging you along, after all.”
“That’s okay. I’ll enjoy the trip, too.”
“No, I should get the tickets and everything.”
“Really, I’m in pretty good financial shape now.” I laughed. “I’ve got a job.”
“Why are you so willing to go with me, anyway?” Nakajima said, looking a bit surprised. “You don’t even know where it is. I’d never be able to go on a trip like that.”
“It’s someplace you really want to go, right, even though it hurts?” I said. “It’s only natural that I come along, if I’m the only person who’s able to help you do that. After all, you’re here in my apartment every day. We see each other all the time, and we’re together because we like being together, not because we have to be.”
If I were really in love, I don’t think I could have said that. I probably would have tried to toy with his feelings a bit more, or maybe I would have had trouble finding the words. But all I felt then was a desire to help. And while I didn’t yet know the reason, it frightened me much more to think of him getting hurt than it did to think of someone else getting hurt. Just the idea made me shudder, and left me feeling as if a heavy stone had lodged in my chest.
“Thank you,” Nakajima said quietly.
The next day, we took a train headed north.
We got off at a small station and started walking. There was still a chill in the air—it was the sort of weather that makes your face feel cold, but doesn’t do anything more than that.
From time to time, a cool ray of sunlight shone through the clouds.
There were trees everywhere, their new leaves just beginning to appear. Even the greenest branches were dotted, here and there, with sensuous, round buds, clenched but swelling, vibrant in the haze of fresh growth. The air was clear; I could feel it coursing through my body. Soon we had left behind the kernel of activity around the small-town station, and after that it was just Nakajima and me ambling along nondescript streets. The mountains in the distance were still capped with snow. That white and the brown of the trees rolled on and on under the blue sky, a dry pairing of colors.
Then, at last, we came to a small lake.
It was a weekday, so there was no one around. The water was so still you almost felt like it would absorb any sounds that reached it. The surface might have been a mirror. Then a wind blew up and sent small waves drifting across it. The only sound was the chirping of birds that whirled around us, high and low.
“It’s over near that shrine.” Nakajima pointed. “Where my friends live.”
A small red torii was visible on the far shore of the lake.
I looked up at Nakajima. He was sweating buckets, and his face was pale.
“Are you okay?”
I took his hand in mine.
“I’m okay. This is the hardest part. I’ll be fine once we actually get there.”
Nakajima’s hand was frighteningly cold.
What horrors had he endured? I wondered. Physically, emotionally.
Poor guy. Those were the words that came to me. There wasn’t anything else I could say. I knew my sympathy was useless, but I
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