Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage: A novel

He wrapped up work before five, left the office, and rode the Marunouchi line from Shinjuku to Ginza. Luckily he happened to be wearing the tie Sara had given him last time.

Sara was in the coffee shop when he arrived. She had already ordered coffee and was waiting for him. She beamed when she saw the tie. When she smiled, two charming little lines formed beside her lips. The waitress came over, and Tsukuru ordered coffee. The shop was crowded with people meeting up after work.

“Sorry to drag you out all this way,” Sara said.

“No, it’s good for me to get to Ginza every once in a while,” Tsukuru said. “I only wish we could go somewhere and have dinner together.”

Sara pursed her lips and sighed. “I wish we could, but I have to attend a business dinner tonight. There’s this VIP from France who’s here and I have to take him to an expensive kaiseki restaurant. I hate these kinds of dinners. I get all tense and can’t even taste what I’m eating.” She’d taken even more care with her appearance than usual, Tsukuru noticed. She wore a nicely tailored coffee-brown suit and a brooch on her collar with a tiny diamond sparkling in the center. Her skirt was short, and below this were stockings with a detailed pattern the same color as her suit.

Sara snapped open the maroon enamel handbag on her lap and extracted a large white envelope. Inside were several printouts, folded. She snapped her handbag smartly shut. A pleasant sound, the kind you might expect would turn the heads of the people around her.

“I looked into your four friends, where they are, and what they’re doing now. Like I promised.”

Tsukuru was taken aback. “But that was less than a week ago.”

“I’m very quick when it comes to work. As long as I know the gist of something, I don’t take long to get it done.”

“There’s no way I could have done that.”

“Everyone has their specialty. I could never build a railroad station.”

“Or do drafting, either.”

She smiled. “Not if I lived for two hundred years.”

“So, you know where the four of them are now?” Tsukuru asked.

“In a sense,” she said.

“In a sense,” Tsukuru repeated. The phrase had a strange ring to it. “What do you mean?”

She took a sip of coffee and returned the cup to the saucer. She paused, and checked her enameled nails. They looked beautiful, painted in the same maroon color as her handbag (perhaps a little lighter). He was willing to bet a month’s salary this wasn’t a coincidence.

“Let me tell things in order,” Sara said. “Otherwise it won’t come out right.”

Tsukuru nodded. “Of course. Whatever way works best for you.”

Sara quickly explained how she’d carried out the investigation. She started with various online search methods and social networks, including Facebook, Google, and Twitter, and had tracked down information about the four people’s lives. Gathering information about Ao and Aka hadn’t been difficult. Actually, they openly shared information about themselves online—most of it related to their businesses.

“It’s sort of weird if you think about it,” Sara said. “We live in a pretty apathetic age, yet we’re surrounded by an enormous amount of information about other people. If you feel like it, you can easily gather that information about them. Having said that, we still hardly know anything about people.”

“Philosophical observations really suit the way you’re dressed today,” Tsukuru said.

“Thank you,” Sara said, and smiled.

When it came to Kuro, the investigation hadn’t been as easy. She had no business reasons for disclosing personal information to the world. Still, searching the website for the industrial arts department of the Aichi Prefectural Arts College, Sara had finally been able to trace her whereabouts.

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