I don't reply. I'm not sure how to express it, but the answer isn't hard to guess.

"I feel kind of sorry for you," Oshima says, "but like I said, I think you two shouldn't see each other for a while."

"But I might never see her again."

"Perhaps," Oshima admits, after giving it some thought. "This is pretty obvious, but until things happen, they haven't happened. And often things aren't what they seem."

"But how does Miss Saeki feel?"

Oshima narrows his eyes and looks at me. "About what?"

"I mean-if she knows she'll never see me again, does she feel the same about me as I feel about her?"

Oshima grins. "Why are you asking me this?"

"I have no idea, which is probably why I'm asking you. Loving somebody, wanting them more than anything-it's all a new experience. The same with having somebody want me."

"I imagine you're confused and don't know what to do."

I nod. "Exactly."

"You don't know if she shares the same strong, pure feelings you have for her," Oshima comments.

I shake my head. "It hurts to think about it."

Oshima's silent for a time as he gazes out at the forest, eyes narrowed. Birds are flitting from one branch to the next. His hands are clasped behind his head. "I know how you feel," he finally says. "But this is something you have to figure out on your own. Nobody can help you. That's what love's all about, Kafka. You're the one having those wonderful feelings, but you have to go it alone as you wander through the dark. Your mind and body have to bear it all. All by yourself."

It's after two when he gets ready to leave.

"If you divide up the food," he tells me, "it should last you a week. I'll be back by then. If something comes up and I can't make it, I'll send my brother here with supplies. He only lives about an hour away. I've told him about you being here. So no worries, okay?"

"Okay."

"And like I told you before, be extra cautious if you go into the woods. If you get lost, you'll never find your way out."

"I'll be careful."

"Just before World War II started, a large unit of Imperial troops carried out some training exercises here, staging mock battles with the Soviet army in the Siberian forests. Did I tell you this already?"

"No."

"Seems like I forgot the most important thing," Oshima says sheepishly, tapping his temple.

"But this doesn't look like Siberian forests," I say.

"You're right. The trees here are all broadleaf types, the ones in those forests would have to be evergreens, but I guess the military didn't worry about details. The point was to march into the forest in full battle gear and conduct their war games."

He pours out a cup of the coffee I made from the thermos, spoons in a dollop of sugar, and seems pleased with the results. "The military asked my great-grandfather to let them use the mountain for their training, and he said sure, be my guest. Nobody else was using it, after all. The unit marched up the road we drove here on, then went into the forest. But when the exercises were finished and they took roll call, they discovered two soldiers were missing. They'd just disappeared, full battle gear and all, during the training, both brand-new draftees. The army conducted a huge search, but the two soldiers never turned up." Oshima takes another sip of coffee. "To this day nobody knows if they simply got lost or ran away. The forest around here is incredibly deep, and there's hardly anything you could forage for food."

I nod.

"There's another world that parallels our own, and to a certain degree you're able to step into that other world and come back safely. As long as you're careful. But go past a certain point and you'll lose the path out. It's a labyrinth. Do you know where the idea of a labyrinth first came from?"

I shake my head.

"It was the ancient Mesopotamians. They pulled out animal intestines-sometimes human intestines, I expect-and used the shape to predict the future. They admired the complex shape of intestines. So the prototype for labyrinths is, in a word, guts. Which means that the principle for the labyrinth is inside you. And that correlates to the labyrinth outside."

"Another metaphor," I comment.

"That's right. A reciprocal metaphor. Things outside you are projections of what's inside you, and what's inside you is a projection of what's outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you're stepping into the labyrinth inside. Most definitely a risky business."

"Sort of like Hansel and Gretel."

"Right-just like them. The forest has set a trap, and no matter what you do, no matter how careful you are, some sharp-eyed birds are going to eat up all your bread crumbs."

"I promise I'll be careful," I tell him.

Oshima lowers the top on the Miata and climbs in. He puts on his sunglasses and rests his hand on the gearshift. The forest echoes with the sound of that familiar roar. He brushes back his hair, gives an abbreviated wave, and is gone. Dust swirls around where he was, but the wind soon carries it away.

I go back inside the cabin. I lie down on the bed he'd been using and shut my eyes. Come to think of it, I didn't get much sleep last night either. The pillow and covers still show signs of Oshima having been there. Not him, really-more like his sleep. I sink down in those signs. I've slept for half an hour when there's a loud thump outside the cabin, like a tree branch snapped and tumbled to the ground. The sound jolts me awake. I get up and walk out to the porch to have a look, but everything looks the same. Maybe this is some mysterious sound the forest makes from time to time. Or maybe it was part of a dream. I can't tell one from the other.

Until the sun sinks down in the west, I sit out on the porch, reading my book.

I make a simple meal and eat it in silence. After clearing away the dishes I sink back in the old sofa and think about Miss Saeki.

"Like Oshima said, Miss Saeki's a smart person. Plus she has her own way of doing things," the boy named Crow says. He's sitting next to me on the sofa, just like when we were in my father's den. "She's very different from you," he tells me.

She's very different from you. She's overcome all kinds of obstacles-and not what you'd call normal obstacles, either. She knows all kinds of things you're clueless about, she's experienced a range of emotions you've never felt. The longer people live, the more they learn to distinguish what's important from what's not. She's had to make a lot of critical decisions, and has seen the results. Again, very different from you. You're only a child who's lived in a narrow world and experienced very little. You've worked hard to become stronger, and in some areas you actually have. That's a fact. But now you find yourself in a new world, in a situation you've never been in before. It's all new to you, so no wonder you feel confused.

No wonder you feel confused. One thing you don't understand very well is whether women have sexual desire. Theoretically, of course they do. That much even you know. But when it comes to how this desire comes about, what it's like-you're lost. Your own sexual desire is a simple matter. But women's desire, especially Miss Saeki's, is a total mystery. When she held you did she feel the same physical ecstasy? Or is it something altogether different?

The more you think about it, the more you hate being fifteen. You feel hopeless. If only you were twenty-no, even eighteen would be good, anything but fifteen-you could understand better what her words and actions mean. Then you could respond the right way. You're in the middle of something wonderful, something so tremendous you may never experience it again. But you can't really understand how wonderful it is. That makes you impatient. And that, in turn, leads to despair.

You try to picture what she's doing right now. It's Monday, and the library's closed. What does she do on her days off? You imagine her alone in her apartment. She does the laundry, cooks, cleans, goes out shopping-each scene flashes in your imagination. The more you imagine, the harder it gets to sit still here. You want to turn into a dauntless crow and fly out of this cabin, zoom out over these mountains, come to rest outside her apartment, and gaze at her forever.