Chapter 4: This Will Happen Because You Want It To (Tengo)

1Q84, Volume 1,By Murakami Haruki

Chapter 4: This Will Happen Because You Want It To (Tengo)

Tengo was awakened by the sound of his phone ringing. The glowing display on his clock said that it was a little past 1 o'clock. It goes without saying that it was pitch black. He knew immediately that it was Komatsu calling. He was the only one who would call at 1 in the morning and not give up until someone answered. Komatsu had no concept of time. When he had an idea, he would call right away, no matter what time it was. He didn't even consider the time. Whether it was the middle of the night, or early morning, or your honeymoon, or your deathbed, Komatsu would call to annoy you with his thoughts on literature that just seemed to pop into his egg-shaped head.

No, no one else would have a reason to call now. But Komatsu was the one who paid his salary. No one else would have a reason to copy such crazy behavior. Since they were partners, Tengo could handle it. As far as Komatsu was concerned, Tengo was more or less an extension of himself. The same as an arm or a leg. There was no difference. So if he was awake, then he just naturally assumed that his partner would be awake as well. Unless he had some special reason not to, Tengo went to bed at 10 at night and woke up at 6 in the morning. He lived a perfectly regular life. He slept soundly. If something woke him up, though, he couldn't get back to sleep. On that matter he was very fussy. He had told Komatsu about it many times. He had asked Komatsu directly to please stop calling in the middle of the night. He had begged like a farmer pleading with God to be spared from a plague of locusts before harvest. “Understood. I won't call in the middle of the night anymore,” Komatsu had said. However, since he had about as much focus as a cheese grater, a single light rain was all it took to wash such a promise from his mind.

Tengo got out of bed, tripped over something on his way to the phone in the kitchen, barely making it in one piece. The whole time, the bell continued to ring without a hint of mercy.

“I spoke with Fukaeri,” Komatsu said. As usual, there wasn't anything even close to a greeting. There was no introduction. Not even a “Were you asleep?” or a “Sorry for calling so late at night.” It was something important. He was excited, as usual.

Tengo frowned silently in the dark. When he was woken up suddenly in the middle of the night, it took a little while for his head to begin functioning properly.

“Hey, can you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“Anyway, I spoke with her on the phone. Well, it was really more of a one-sided conversation, since she mostly just listened; naturally it wasn't a very long call. She's a rather quiet child, you see. She has a rather strange way of talking. If you could hear for yourself, I think you'd understand. Anyway, I explained my plan to give 'The Chrysalis of Air' to a third party to be rewritten and then submit it for the Newcomer Award once it's finished and see how it does. Well, since it was over the phone, that's about all I said. If it had been a face to face conversation, then I'd have tried asking about her interests. Taken more of a roundabout path. Because just getting straight to the point leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Well?”

“She didn't answer.”

“She didn't answer?”

Komatsu took a moment to respond. He took a cigarette and lit it with a match. Even though he was only hearing it over the phone, Tengo could see the scene in his head. Komatsu never used a lighter.

Fukaeri said she wants to meet you first,” Komatsu said, exhaling smoke. “She didn't exactly say she wasn't interested. She didn't say whether she would do it or not. It seems to depend on meeting you in person. She'll decide once she's met you. That's a big responsibility, don't you think?”

“So, what now?”

“Are you free tomorrow evening?”

He lectured at the cram school in the morning until 4 in the afternoon. For better or worse, he didn't anything planned after that. “I'm free,” Tengo said.

“Tomorrow night at 6 o'clock, go to Nakamura's in Shinjuku. There's a quiet table in the back reserved in my name. Since it's a business meeting, feel free to order whatever you want. Then the two of you should discuss everything completely.”

“Does that mean you won't be coming?”

“Fukaeri's condition was to talk, just the two of you. At this point, it seems she doesn't want me to come.”

Tengo was silent.

“So that's it,” Komatsu said in a bright voice. “Please do a good job, Tengo. You're an adult, so please make a good impression. Since you teach at a cram school, talking to a precocious high school girl should be a snap for you. You'll do much better than I would. Just talk to her and get her to trust you. You'll do fine.”

“Wait a second. This was your idea from the beginning. I won't know how to answer all her questions. This whole time you've been doing all the talking; I don't think I'd be able to properly explain even the most basic parts of this risky plan. I can't even answer any general questions. I haven't even decided whether or not I'm going along with this plan myself, there's no way I'd be able to convince some girl I've never met before.”

Komatsu was completely silent for a moment. Then he said, “Hey, Tengo, we've already had this conversation. There's no reason to stop the train now. It's decided in my gut. You've pretty much decided in your gut as well. You and I are in this together.”

Tengo shook his head. In this together? Well, a lot of things were suddenly happening at once.

“But haven't you been saying this whole time that I should take plenty of time to decide?”

“But we've only got five days left. How much more time could you take?”

Tengo was at a loss for words. “I still haven't decided yet,” he said honestly.

“Either way, wouln't it be OK for you to go talk with Fukaeri? Then you'll be able to decide afterward, right?”

Tengo pressed his fingertips hard against his temple. His head still wasn't working properly. “I get it. At any rate, I'll meet with this Fukaeri kid. Tomorrow at 6 o'clock at Nakamura's in Shinjuku. And I'll try explaining the situation all by myself. But I can't promise anything more than that. Maybe I'll be able to explain it, but even if I try I probably won't be able to convince her.”

“That's fine, of course.”

“Anyway, just how much does she know about me?”

“I more or less told her everything. That you're about twenty-nine or thirty years old, unmarried, and a lecturer at a Yoyogi cram school. You a big guy, but you're not a bad person. Not the sort of person who gobbles up young girls. You lead a modest life and you look at things with a kindhearted eye. And, your works are very interesting. That's about it.”

Tengo let out a sigh. No matter what he tried to think about, it seemed as though reality was slipping away on all sides.

“Hey, Komatsu, is it OK if I go back to bed? It's almost 1:30, and I'd like to get back to sleep before dawn. I've got three lectures tomorrow morning.”

“That's fine. Goodnight,” Komatsu said. “Sweet dreams.” Then he simply hung up.

Tengo looked at the receiver in his hand for a moment, then hung it up. He would have preferred to go back to sleep if he could. However, having been forcefully awakened and drawn into this troublesome conversation, he knew that he simply wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. It might be possible if he drank some sake. But he didn't seem to be in the mood to drink. Eventually he drank a glass of water, got into bed, turned on the light and started reading a book. He meant to read until he got tired, but sleep didn't come until just before dawn.

After his three lectures at the cram school, he took a train to Shinjuku. He bought a few books at the Kinokuniya bookstore, then went to Nakamura's. He gave Komatsu's name at the entrance and was shown to a quiet table in the back. Fukaeri hadn't arrived yet. “I'm waiting for someone else,” Tengo explained to the waiter. When the waiter asked if he'd like anything to drink while he waited, Tengo said he didn't need anything. The waiter brought him a menu and a glass of water. Tengo opened one of the books he had just bought and began to read. It was a book about magic. The subject was the function of the curse at the heart of Japanese society. Jinxes were once as a “vital part” of the ancient community. The role of curses was to cover up inconsistencies in the system of the community. It was a truly interesting era.

It was 6:15 and Fukaeri still hadn't appeared. It didn't bother Tengo; he just kept on reading his book. He wasn't really surprised that Fukaeri was late. She didn't really even know the reason for the meeting. Nobody could complain if she was late when she didn't even know why she was coming. It wouldn't be strange at all if she simply completely changed her mind. That said, he would much rather that she came. It would simply be better to talk to her. If she didn't come after an hour, then he would just have to explain that to Komatsu. What would happen after that, Tengo didn't know. It would probably be OK if he ate alone and went home. Then his obligation to Komatsu would have been fulfilled.

At 6:22, he caught his first glimpse of Fukaeri. The waiter guided her to the table, and she sat down. She gently laid her hands on the table, took off her coat, and stared fixedly at Tengo's face. No “sorry for being late” or “did you have to wait long?” Not even a “nice to meet you” or a “hello.” She just kept her lips tightly closed and looked Tengo straight in the eye. She might as well have been watching the scenery. Tengo thought it was amazing.

Every part of Fukaeri's body was delicate, and she was even more beautiful than her picture. More than anything else on her face, her eyes attracted attention. They were deep, impressive eyes. Staring into the space of that pair of jet-black pupils, Tengo felt an uncomfortable sort of feeling. She almost never blinked. She didn't even appear to be breathing. It seemed as if each of her hairs had been straightened out, one by one, with a ruler, and her eyebrows had been recently plucked. She was as beautiful as any teenage girl, but her expression lacked a sense of life. And there was something about her that felt off balance. Her pupils were deep, but Tengo couldn't tell if they were different sizes. Looking at them gave you an uncomfortable feeling. No matter how you thought about it, it wasn't the kind of thing you could measure. This meant that she didn't have the same kind of beauty that it took to be a model in a magazine, or a famous singer. There something provocative about her, though, that attracted attention.

Tengo closed his book and set it on the table, straightened his back and adjusted his posture, then took a drink of water. Komatsu was probably right. If this girl won the Newcomer Award, the mass media would never let go of her. No doubt about it, it would be a big deal. If that were to happen, then that would be the end of normalcy for her.

The waiter came over and placed a glass of water and a menu in front of her. Even so, Fukaeri still didn't move. Without touching her menu, she continued staring at Tengo's face. Tengo could help it; he said “Hello.” In front of her, his body felt especially large.

Fukaeri didn't return the greeting, but just kept staring at Tengo's face. “I know you” she eventually said in a small voice.

“You know me?” Tengo asked.

“You teach math.”

Tengo nodded. “Yeah.”

“I've seen you twice.”

“At my lectures?”

“Right.”

Her way of talking had several distinctive features. She left out a lot of modifiers in her sentences, she lacked a consistent accent, and she had a limited vocabulary (at least, she gave the listener the impression that she had a limited vocabulary. Just as Komatsu had said, she was certainly a strange one.

“So, you're saying that you're a student at my cram school?” Tengo asked.

Fukaeri shook her head. “I only go for emergencies.”

“But without a student ID, you shouldn't be able to get into the classroom.”
Fukaeri shrugged her shoulders. A very adult habit; it was as if she were saying, “What are you, an idiot?”

“How were the lectures?” Tengo asked. Another pointless question.

Looking away, Fukaeri took a sip of water. She didn't answer. Tengo supposed that it didn't give such a bad impression, the second time around. If he couldn't get her attention after one more attempt, then he out to just give up.

“You're a third year high school student, right?”

“For the moment.”

“How are college entrance exams going?”

She shook her head.

Tengo couldn't tell if that meant “I don't want to talk about college entrance exams,” or “I'm not going to take any college entrance exams.” He remembered that Komatsu had said on the phone that she was a terribly quiet girl.

The waiter came to take their order. Fukaeri put her coat back on. She ordered a salad with bread. “That's it,” she said, handing the menu to the waiter. Then she added “white wine” almost as an afterthought.

The young waiter seemed to be about to ask her age, but when Fukaeri looked him in the eye intently, he blushed and swallowed his words. Amazing, Tengo though for the second time. Tengo ordered the seafood linguine. Then he joined his companion in ordering a glass of white wine.

“You're a teacher and a novelist,” Fukaeri said. Somehow, it seemed to be a question for Tengo. Asking questions without question marks was apparently one of the quirks of her way of speaking.

“For the moment, at least,” Tengo said.

“You don't seem like either one.”

“Maybe not,” Tengo said. He tried to smile, but couldn't. “I'm qualified to be a teacher, but since I'm just a lecturer at a cram school, you couldn't say I'm a proper teacher; and while I do write novels, since I've never been published, I'm still not really a novelist yet either.”

“So you're not anything.”

Tengo noidded. “You're exactly right. At the moment, I'm not much of anything at all.”

“You like math.”

Tengo tacked a question mark onto the end of her sentence and answered the question. “I like it. I've always enjoyed math, so I still like it.”

“What about it?”

“What do I like about math?” Tengo filled in. “Well, when I'm in front of numbers, I just become very clam. It's like fitting something into a slot that it was made to go into.”

“Hearing about calculus was interesting.”

“You mean during my lectures?”

Fukaeri nodded.

“Do you like math?”

Fukaeri slightly shook her head. She didn't like math.

“But you thought hearing about calculus was interesting?” Tengo asked.

Fukaeri shrugged her shoulders slightly again. “It seemed important.”

“Is that so?” This was the first time anyone had said something like that to him.

“It seemed like it was the talk of someone important,” the girl said.

“I was probably more passionate during my lecture on sequences,” Tengo said. “That's my favorite topic in the high school curriculum.”

“You like sequences,” Fukaeri asked, once again without a question mark.

“For me, it's like the temperament of Bach. I can't say that I ever get tired of it. There's always something new to discover.”

“I know about temperament.”

“Do you like Bach?”

Fukaeri nodded. “Sensei is always listening to him.”

“Sensei?” Tengo asked. “You mean one of your teachers at school?”

Fukaeri didn't answer. It's still too soon to talk about that, the expression on her face seemed to say to Tengo.

Then, as though just remembering, she took off her coat. She moved restlessly like a bug shedding its skin as she slipped out of her coat; she folded it up and placed it on the back of a nearby chair. Under her coat, she was wearing a pale green tight-neck sweater and white jeans. She wasn't wearing any accessories. She wasn't wearing any makeup, either. Even so, she stood out. Her body was slender, and even though her breasts weren't too big, they attracted attention. Their shape was very beautiful. Tengo had to concentrate to keep from looking at them. Even while he thought this, though, his eyes drifted back to her chest. It was like they were at the center of whirlpool.

She raised her glass of white wine. Fukaeri took a single sip. Then, gazing at the glass as though deep in thought, she placed it on the table. Tengo only drank a little. He had important things to talk about after this.

Fukaeri combed through her straight black hair with her fingers. It was a charming gesture. They were charming fingers. Each finger looked as though it had a mind of its own. It felt like there was something magical about them.

“What do I like about math?” Tengo asked himself again out loud while dividing his attention between her fingers and her chest.

“I guess it's the way that math flows,” Tengo said. “Of course, there are some difficult theorems, but the fundamental theorems are all simple. Numbers flow just like water seeking the shortest path from the high ground to the low. If you stare at the numbers hard enough, the correct path appears on its own. All you have to do is look for it. You don't have to do anything. If you just focus, everything becomes clear. In the whole world, there's nothing clearer to me than numbers.”

Fukaeri though about that for a moment.

“Why do you write novels,” she asked without emphasis.

Tengo converted her question into a longer sentence. “If math is so much why do I feel the need to go to the trouble of writing novels? Why isn't math enough by itself? Is that what you're to say?”

Fukaeri nodded.

“You're probably right. But there's more to life than just math. It doesn't always flow along the shortest path. For me, you might say that numbers are almost too perfect. To me, it's like seeing beautiful scenery. It's just that there's something there. There's no reason to try to change it. In math, I'm only interested in things that become clear gradually. Sometimes, it gets pretty scary.”

Fukaeri looked Tengo straight in the eye, without looking away. Her face might as well have been staring into space through a window.

Tengo spoke. “By writing novels, I'm able to use words to change the scenery around me to better suit me. This is to say, I can reconstruct it. By doing this, I can examine my human existence in this world. It's completely different from when I work in the world of mathematics.”

“You examine your existence,” Fukaeri said.

“I'm not saying I can do it perfectly, yet,” Tengo said.

Fukaeri didn't look satisfied with Tengo's explanation, but she didn't say anything else. She just brought the wine glass to her mouth, then sucked up the wine without a sound, as though drinking through a straw.

“I'd say that you do effectively the same thing. You reconstruct the scenes the you see around you by changing them with your words. And you examine the condition of your human existence,” Tengo said.

Fukaeri held the wine glass in her hand and thought about that for a moment. But she didn't voice her opinion.

“But it lacks form. Your writing,” Tengo said. “If your works could just arouse arouse sympathy or approval in lots of people, then they would be objectively valuable works of literature.”

Fukaeri shook her head flatly. “Form holds no interest for me.”

“Form holds no interest for you,” Tengo repeated.

“Form has no meaning.”

“Well, if that's true, then why did you apply for the Newcomer Award?”

Fukaeri put her wine glass on the table. “It wasn't me who did that.”

Tengo picked up his glass and took a sip of water to compose himself. “Are you saying that you didn't apply for the Newcomer Award?”

Fukaeri nodded. “It wasn't me.”

“Well, just who would have submitted a novel that you wrote to the publisher to for the Newcomer Award?”

Fukaeri shrugged her shoulders slightly. There was silence for about 15 seconds. Then she said, “Someone.” “Someone,” Tengo repeated. Then he slowly breather out through pursed lips. Well, things don't seem to be going well. That's what I think.

Before this, Tengo had often met personally with female students. That said, they were all out of cram school and into college. It was always them who contacted him, saying that they wanted to meet; they would get together and talk, then go somewhere together. Just what about him they found attractive, Tengo himself didn't really know. But either way, he was single and they weren't his students anymore. There was no reason to turn down their invitations to go on dates.

Twice the dates had continued to physical relationships. While the relationships lasted a while, however, they eventually faded out. When he was with young college girls, Tengo could relax. He could never get comfortable. It was like getting a kitten; at first it was fun, but you gradually get tired of it. And these girls would become disappointed when they discovered that he actually became a different person when he wasn't up on stage excitedly giving a math lecture. Tengo could understand their feelings.

When he had recovered, he started dating older women. When he thought about not having to lead in everything, it felt like a load was being lifted from his shoulders. And lots of older women seemed to like him. So, about a year earlier, he had stopped dating young girls altogether. Once a week, he would meet his older, married girlfriend in his apartment so they could release their desires (or perhaps it was more like their needs.) Then he'd be left alone in his room to write novels, read books, listen to music, or go swimming in the neighborhood indoor pool. Other than conversations with his coworkers, he almost never spoke to anyone. He didn't have anything in particular to complain about in his life. No, rather, for him, it was almost the ideal lifestyle.

However, where Fukaeri was concerned, Tengo felt a violent tremor in his heart whenever he saw this seventeen year old girl. They were the same tremors he had felt when he first saw her picture, but in person they were much stronger. It wasn't love, or even sexual desire. It was more like something was filling up an empty space inside of him. It was that kind of feeling. Fukaeri hadn't produced this emptiness. It was something that had always been inside of Tengo. It felt as if she was illuminating a spot that had previously been in the dark.

“You have no interest in writing novels, and you didn't apply for the Newcomer Award,” Tengo said, confirming the situation.

Fukaeri nodded without taking her eyes off Tengo's face. Then she hunched her shoulders as if protecting herself from a cold winter wind.

“And you don't think you want to be a novelist,” Tengo asked, suprised to find himself not using a question mark. That way of speaking was probably contagious.

“I don't think so,” Fukaeri said.

At this point the meal was brought out. Fukaeri got her bread and salad in a big bowl. As for Tengo, he got his seafood linguine. Fukaeri carefully inspected her food, turning over every leaf with her fork like a headline newspaper food critic.

“Well, anyway, someone took you 'The Chrysalis of Air' and submitted it to the publishing company for the Newcomer Award. Then, as I was preparing for the contest, your story caught my eye.”

“The Chrysalis of Air,” Fukaeri said. Then she squinted.

“'The Chrysalis of Air' is the title of the novel you wrote,” Tengo said.

Fukaeri continued to squint without saying anything.

“Isn't that the title that you gave it?” Tengo asked, becoming anxious.

Fukaeri shook her head slightly.

Tengo's face showed a bit of confusion, but for the time being the question of the title wasn't the most important thing to focus on. For the moment, he had to move on.

“It doesn't matter either way. Anyway, it's not that bad of a title. It's got feeling, and it attracts attention. That's what I think. Whoever chose it, as far as titles go you can't complain. I don't really know the difference between a chrysalis and a cocoon, but it's not an important issue. What I want to say is, when I read this work, something powerfully attracted me to it. So I took it to Mr. Komatsu. He was also interested in 'The Chrysalis of Air'. But if it was going to try for the Newcomer Award, it needed to be edited, in his opinion. Compared to the strength of the story, the writing was somewhat weak. So he thought that, instead of you, I should be the one to rewrite it. I myself still haven't made up my mind about it. I haven't answered whether I'll do it or not. I'm just not sure if that sort of thing is appropriate.”

At this point, Tengo stopped speaking to gauge Fukaeri's reaction. She didn't react at all.

“What I want to know now is what you think about me rewriting 'The Chrysalis of Air' instead of you. No matter what I decide, without your consent and cooperation, I can't move forward.”

Fukaeri picked up a small tomato with one finger and ate it. Tengo picked up a blue mussel with his fork and ate it.

“Do whatever you want,” Fukaeri said simply. Then she picked up another tomato. “If you want to rewrite it, then go ahead.”

“It's alright if you want more time to think about it more carefully. It's a big decision, after all,” Tengo said.

Fukaeri shook her head. She didn't need more time.

“I'll be rewriting your story,” Tengo explained. “I'll be strengthening the writing without noticeably changing the story. There will probably be some big changes. But in the end, you're the author. The final product will be a novel written by Fukaeri, a 17 year old high school girl. That part won't change. If it wins the Newcomer Award, it will be you who accepts the award. If it gets published as a book, you will be the sole author. We'll be a team. The three of us: you, me, and Mr. Komatsu as the editor. But on the outside cover it will just be your name. We'll be hiding silently behind the scenes. Like stagehands in a play. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

Fukaeri put a piece of celery into her mouth with her fork. She nodded slightly. “I understand.”

“The story called 'The Chrysalis of Air' is something that came from within your body. It came out of you. There's no way for me to make it my own. I can only do this with your constant help. And the fact that I lent a hand will have to be kept a secret from everyone. What I mean is, we'll be conspiring to lie to the entire world. No matter how you think about it, that's not an easy thing to do. It's a secret that you'll always hold in your heart.”

“If you say so,” Fukaeri said.

Tengo moved his mussel shells to the side of his plate scooped up some linguine, then paused to reflect. Fukaeri picked up a cucumber, and, seeming to find it tasteless, carefully bit deeply into it.

Tengo spoke, fork in hand. “I already asked, but you really don't have any objections to me rewriting your story?”

“Do what you like,” Fukaeri said when she had finished eating the cucumber.

“You don't care how I rewrite it?”

“I don't care.”

“How can you be so sure? You don't know anything about me.”

Without saying anything, Fukaeri simply shrugged her shoulders.

They bother momentarily continued eating their meals without saying anything. Fukaeri was completely focused on eating her salad. Every so often she would butter a piece of bread and eat it, or reach for her wine glass. Tengo mechanically brought his linguine to his mouth while considering his various options.

Putting his fork down, he said “When I first heard the idea from Mr. Komatsu, I thought that it had to be a joke, it was so ridiculous. That sort of thing seems impossible. Somehow I intended to refuse. But when I went home and thought about it, the desire to do it slowly became stronger. I didn't know whether or not it would be ethical for me to change 'The Chrysalis of Air', a story that you had created. Whatever you say is fine, but it's something that I really want to do.”

No, maybe it's more of a need than a want, Tengo added in his head. Komatsu's prediction was right. It's slowly becoming difficult to suppress this need.

Without saying anything, Fukaeri gazed at Tengo with her beautiful, indifferent eyes, as if from somewhere far away. She looked as though she might understand what Tengo was saying.

“You want to rewrite it,” Fukaeri asked.

Tengo looked her straight in the eye. “I think so.”

There was something faintly sparkling reflected in Fukaeri's pitch black pupils. That's how it seemed to Tengo.

With both hands, Tengo seemed to be feeling for an imaginary box hanging in the air. The gesture didn't have any special meaning, he just needed to use the imaginary something as a medium to express his feelings.

“I wouldn't sat it's perfect, but during the several times that I read 'The Chrysalis of Air' I felt that I could see what you were seeing. Especially when the Little People came out. You imagination is probably something pretty special. No matter what you say about it, there's something infectious about the original.”

Fukaeri put her spoon on her plate and wiped her mouth with her napkin.

“The Little People really exist,” she said in a quiet voice.

“Really exist?”

Fukaeri paused for a moment. Then she spoke.

“The same as you or me.”

“The same as you or me,” Tengo repeated.

“You'd probably think they look strange.”

There was a strange conviction in Fukaeri's concise phrasing. It felt as though there were a lynchpin wedged tightly into every single word. But just how honest of a girl Fukaeri was, Tengo couldn't tell. Somehow, this girl had gone beyond the realm of normalcy. Maybe it was a natural gift. Tengo wasn't sure if he had ever encountered such a real talent in his life. Maybe it wasn't anything more than ordinary pretending. Most teenage girls instinctively passed the time by imagining things in their heads. On the surface, it was just an eccentric pretense. Apparently suggestive words would confuse her. He'd seen examples of that many times. Sometimes it was difficult to tell the real thing from an act. Perhaps it was close to reality.

“If you don't mind, I'd like to start rewriting 'The Chrysalis of Air' tomorrow.”

“If that's what you want.”
“It's what I want,” Tengo replied simply.

“There's someone else you need to see,” Fukaeri said.

“Then I'll meet with him,” Tengo said.

Fukaeri nodded.

“What sort of person?” Tengo asked.

She ignored his question. “You'll talk to this person.”

“If it's something that I need to do, then I have no problem meeting with him.”

“You're free on Sunday,” she asked without a question mark.

“I'm free,” Tengo answered. It's like we're speaking using semaphores, Tengo thought.

When the meal was over, Tengo and Fukaeri split up. Tengo inserted some 10 yen coins into the restaurants payphone and called Komatsu's office. Komatsu was still in his office, but it took some time for him to pick up his phone. Tengo waited with the phone pressed against his ear.

“How was it? Did it go well?” was the first thing Komatsu asked into the phone.

“Fukaeri basically agreed to let me rewrite 'The Chrysalis of Air'. I think that's probably what she said.”

“That's great, isn't it,” Komatsu said. His voice became cheerful. “Wonderful. To be honest, I was a little worried. What I mean is, you don't really have the personality of a negotiator.”

“There wasn't really a reason to negotiate,” Tengo said. “There was no need for persuasion, either. After I explained everything, she seemed to decide of her own free will.”

“That doesn't change anything. You can't argue with the results. With this, the plan can move forward.”

“Not until I meet with someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“I don't know who. Anyway, she wants me to talk to this person.”

Komatsu was silent for a moment. “When will you meet with him?”

“This Sunday. She's going to take me to him.”

“The only rule is to keep this a secret,” Komatsu said in a serious voice. It's fine as long as no one else finds out. Other than the three of us, no one in the world knows about the plan. Just you, me, and Fukaeri; we can't go around increasing the number. Understand?”

“Theoretically, at least,” Tengo said.

After that, Komatsu's voice became soft again. “Either way, Fukaeri had given you permission, in principle. Ultimately, that's the most important part. Anything else doesn't really matter.”

Tengo switched the phone to his right hand. Then, he slowly rubbed his temple with the forefinger of his right hand.

“Hey, Komatsu, I'm nervous about this. I don't have any clear evidence, but I couldn't help but get the feeling that somehow I'm being mixed up in something unusual. I didn't notice it while I was with Fukaeri, but one we separated and I was alone, the feeling gradually became stronger. Call it a premonition or foreboding, but there's something weird about this. Something not normal. I feel it in my body rather than in my head.”

“You felt all that from just meeting with Fukaeri?”

“Maybe. Fukaeri is probably the real thing, I think. Of course, that could just be a hunch.”

“You're saying her talent is real?”

“I don't know how talented she is, I only just met her,” Tengo said. “She didn't seem like a normal girl, but maybe she not what she appears to be. I'm not sure if she really has something. I'm still thinking about it.”

“Would you say she's not right in the head?”

“There are some eccentricities about her, but I don't think she's particularly crazy. She sounded reasonable enough, anyway,” Tengo said. Then he paused for a second. “That's all I thought about her.”

“Either way, she found you interesting,” Komatsu said.

Tengo searched for the correct words, but couldn't find any. “I don't know about that,” he replied.

“After meeting you, she at least thought you were qualified to rewrite 'The Chrysalis of Air'. That means she's interested in you. You did really well, Tengo. I'm not sure what's going to happen next. Naturally there are risks. But risks are just part of life. The first thing to do is to revise 'The Chrysalis of Air'. There's not much time. We've got to quickly rewrite the manuscript and return it to the pile of applications. We'll switch it out with the original. Can you have it written in ten days?”

Tengo sighed. “It'll be tough.”

“It doesn't have to be a final draft. We can make slight changes until the final stage. For the time being it's fine if you just give it a basic form.”

Tengo calculated the amount of work in his head. “Maybe I can get it done in 10 days. It's bad, but there's nothing we can do about it.”

“That's the spirit,” Komatsu said in a bright voice. “Look at the world through her eyes. With your help, Fukaeri's world and the real world will merge together. You can do it, Tengo. I...”

At that point, the 10 yen coins ran out.