“The view’s much better from here than on the first floor,” Mitsuyo said as she wiped her hands with the hot towels. “We kind of lucked out.”

“Have you been here before?” Yuichi asked.

“My sister and I came here a couple of times, but we were always on the first floor. The first floor’s okay, though, with the live-fish tank and everything.”

The waitress brought them hot tea and Mitsuyo ordered two set lunches. As she turned to look at the scenery outside Yuichi murmured, “It reminds me of my neighborhood.”

“Oh, that’s right. Your house is on a harbor, isn’t it?”

“Not a harbor like this, just a fishing village.”

“You’re lucky. I love this scenery. You know they have those articles in magazines that introduce fancy restaurants in Hakata or Tokyo? Every time I see the seafood in those articles, I think, I bet it’s expensive and doesn’t taste half as good as the squid in Yobuko.”

“But don’t girls like that kind of restaurant?”

“My younger sister always wants to go that famous French place in Tenjin, I forget the name. I like places like this. The food’s so much better. On TV they’d probably say the food here is second-rate gourmet fare or something. I can’t stand that. ’Cause the ingredients here are great.”

Mitsuyo got all this out in a burst of enthusiasm. Without realizing it, she was getting increasingly excited at the prospect of skipping work and having the whole day free. She suddenly noticed that Yuichi’s shoulders were trembling and his eyes were red.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Yuichi’s fists were balled tight on the tabletop and were audibly shaking.

“I-I killed someone.”

“What?!”

“I’m sorry…”

For a moment she couldn’t grasp what he was saying. “What?” she repeated, startled. Yuichi just looked down, clenching his fists and didn’t say another word. His eyes were tearful, his shoulders trembling. Mitsuyo stared at his tightly clenched fists on the cheap tabletop. She could see them, right in front of her.

“Wait a second. What are you telling me?” Mitsuyo reached out her own hand but then, confused, pulled it back. It felt like somebody else’s hand.

“You killed somebody?” she said. Outside the window was the calm harbor. The fishing boats bobbed in the water, their lines creaking.

“I know I should have told you before this. But I couldn’t. When I was with you, it felt like all of this might disappear. Though I knew it wouldn’t… I wanted to be with you today, just one more day together with you. Yesterday I was thinking of telling you in the car, but I didn’t know if I could get the whole story out.” Yuichi’s voice trembled terribly, as if shaking in the waves.

“Before I met you I knew another girl. She lived in Hakata…” He paused after each word. For some reason Mitsuyo recalled the pier they’d just been walking along. It was beautiful off in the distance, but now she saw all the garbage floating there, washed by the waves. A plastic bottle of laundry detergent, a filthy Styrofoam box. A single beach sandal.

“I got to know her through the Internet and met her a few times. She told me if I wanted to see her I had to pay for it…”

Just then the fusuma slid open and the middle-aged waitress in her apron came in carrying a large serving plate.

“Sorry it took so long.”

She placed the heavy-looking plate on the table.

“You can use the soy sauce on the table there.”

The white plate was heaped high with colorful seaweed, on top of which was an entire squid. Its body was translucent, clear through to the seaweed below. Its silvery, metallic-looking eyes were unfocused and stared into space. Its legs alone were still writhing, as if they could escape from the plate.

“The legs and whatever else you leave we’ll make into tempura or deep-fry for you,” the waitress explained, giving the table a tap for emphasis, and then she stood up. They thought she was about to leave, but she suddenly turned to them. “I see I haven’t gotten your drink orders yet,” she said with a friendly smile. “Shall I bring beer or something?”

Mitsuyo shook her head quickly. “No, we’re fine,” she said, her hands, for some reason, held up as if holding a steering wheel.

The waitress left, keeping the fusuma open behind her. The two of them were alone again in the dining room. Yuichi sat there, head hung down, in front of the plate of squid. Though she’d just heard an unbelievable confession from him, Mitsuyo still reached out and, almost without thinking, poured soy sauce into two smaller plates.

She stared at the two plates with soy sauce for a moment, unsure what to do, then pushed one in front of Yuichi.

“I don’t know where to begin,” Yuichi murmured as he stared at the plate. He paused. “That night that girl and I had made a date to meet. In a place called Higashi Park in Hakata.”

As he began, Mitsuyo found herself wanting to ask questions, but she held back. What kind of woman was she? How many times had they met before this? Yuichi’s story tumbled out in bursts, and in the gaps, Mitsuyo thought of one question after another. Finally she asked, “When did all this happen?”

Yuichi looked up. He tried to reply, but his lips were trembling so much he couldn’t form the words.

“Before I met you…” he managed to say. “Remember when you sent me e-mails? It was before that…”

“You mean the first message?”

Yuichi shook his head listlessly.

“I didn’t know what to do back then… I couldn’t sleep, it was terrible, and I wanted to talk with somebody… And then you started e-mailing me…”

They could hear the waitress greeting newly arrived customers down the corridor.

“That night I made a date to meet her, but she made a date to meet another guy at the same place. ‘I don’t have time to see you tonight,’ she said, and got in this other guy’s car. And they took off somewhere… I felt like she was laughing at me and I couldn’t stand it, so I followed them…”

On the table in front of them, the squid’s legs were squirming and writhing.

The night was cold, so cold he could see his breath.

In his rearview mirror he saw Yoshino, walking along the path by the park. Yuichi gave his horn a tap to signal her. Startled by the sound, Yoshino stopped for a moment, stared ahead of her, and then hurried over. It all happened quickly. She didn’t run to his car, but ran right past him. Flustered, he turned to see where she was going and saw her run up to a man he’d never seen before.

Yoshino grabbed the man’s arm in a friendly way and started to talk with him. The whole time the man was looking over in Yuichi’s direction with this spiteful look in his eyes. It must be a coincidence, her meeting him here. Once she said hello, she’d come back to him.

As he expected, Yoshino soon walked over. Yuichi was about to open the passenger door, but anticipating this, Yoshino picked up the pace, opened the door herself, and said, “Sorry. Tonight’s not going to work out. Just transfer the money to my account. I’ll e-mail you the info later.”

Then she slammed the door shut and almost skipped back to where the other man was. It happened so quickly. So quickly he had no time to even open his mouth, let alone figure out how he felt.

The man standing in the road wasn’t looking at Yoshino as she approached, but at Yuichi, staring at him. He seemed to be smiling, laughing at Yuichi, but Yuichi couldn’t tell if that was just the way the light from the streetlight hit him.

Yoshino got in the man’s car without glancing back at Yuichi. The car was a dark blue Audi A6, the kind Yuichi could never afford no matter what kind of loan he put together. The car headed down the empty, tree-lined road beside the park, its exhaust white in the freezing night air.

I’ve been abandoned, Yuichi realized. The little scene had been so abrupt. He felt his blood boil beneath his skin, as if his whole body were engorged by anger.