Tengo kept these thoughts to himself, but he knew that Aomame was listening carefully to these unspoken words. Her little pink ear pressed against his chest. She was hearing everything that went on in his heart, like a person who can trace a map with his fingertip and conjure up vivid, living scenery.

“I want to stay here forever and forget all about time,” Aomame said in a small voice. “But there’s something the two of us have to do.”

We have to move on, Tengo thought.

“That’s right, we have to move on,” Aomame said. “The sooner the better. We don’t have much time left. Though I can’t yet put into words where we’re going.”

There’s no need for words, Tengo thought.

“Don’t you want to know where we’re going?” Aomame asked.

Tengo shook his head. The winds of reality had not extinguished the flame in his heart. There was nothing more significant.

“We will never be apart,” Aomame said. “That’s more clear than anything. We will never let go of each other’s hand again.”

A new cloud appeared and gradually swallowed up the moons. The shadow enveloping the world grew one shade deeper.

“We have to hurry,” Aomame whispered. The two of them stood up on the slide. Once again their shadows became one. Like little children groping their way through a dark forest, they held on tightly to each other’s hand.

“We’re going to leave the cat town,” Tengo said, speaking aloud for the first time. Aomame treasured this fresh, newborn voice.

“The cat town?”

“The town at the mercy of a deep loneliness during the day and, come night, of large cats. There’s a beautiful river running through it, and an old stone bridge spanning the river. But it’s not where we should stay.”

We call this world by different names, Aomame thought. I call it the year 1Q84, while he calls it the cat town. But it all means the same thing. Aomame squeezed his hand even tighter.

“You’re right, we’re going to leave the cat town now. The two of us, together,” Aomame said. “Once we leave this town, day or night, we will never be apart.”

As the two of them hurried out of the park, the pair of moons remained hidden behind the slowly moving clouds. The eyes of the moons were covered. And the boy and the girl, hand in hand, made their way out of the forest.

CHAPTER 30

Tengo

IF I’M NOT MISTAKEN

After they left the park, they walked out onto the main street and hailed a cab. Aomame told the driver to take them to Sangenjaya, via Route 246.

For the first time, Tengo noticed what Aomame was wearing. She had on a light-colored spring coat, too thin for this cold time of year. The coat was belted in front. Underneath was a nicely tailored green suit. The skirt was short and tight. She had on stockings and lustrous high heels, and carried a black leather shoulder bag. The bag was bulging and looked heavy. She wasn’t wearing any gloves or a muffler, no rings or necklace or earrings, no hint of perfume. To Tengo, what she had on, and what she had omitted, looked entirely natural. He could think of nothing that needed to be added or removed.

The taxi sped down Ring Road 7 toward Route 246. Traffic was flowing along unusually smoothly. For a long time after they got in the taxi, the two of them didn’t speak. The radio in the taxi was off, and the young driver was very quiet. All the two of them heard was the ceaseless, monotonous hum of tires. Aomame leaned against Tengo, still clutching his large hand. If she let go she might never find him again. Around them the night city flowed by like a phosphorescent tide.

“There are several things I need to say to you,” Aomame said, after a while. “I don’t think I can explain everything before we arrive there. We don’t have that much time. But maybe if we had all the time in the world I still couldn’t explain it.”

Tengo shook his head slightly. There was no need to explain everything now. They could fill in all the gaps later, as they went—if there were indeed gaps that needed to be filled. Tengo felt that as long as it was something the two of them could share—even a gap they had to abandon or a riddle they never could solve—he could discover a joy there, something akin to love.

“What do I need to know about you at this point?” Tengo asked.

“What do you know about me?” Aomame asked in return.

“Almost nothing,” Tengo said. “You’re an instructor at a sports club. You’re single. You’ve been living in Koenji.”

“I know almost nothing about you, too,” Aomame said, “though I do know a few small things. You teach math at a cram school in Yoyogi. You live alone. And you’re the one who really wrote Air Chrysalis.”

Tengo looked at her face, his lips parted in surprise. There were very few people who knew this about him. Did she have some connection with the cult?

“Don’t worry. We’re on the same side,” she said. “If I told you how I came to know this, it would take too long. But I do know that you wrote Air Chrysalis together with Eriko Fukada. And that you and I both entered a world where there are two moons in the sky. And there’s one more thing. I’m carrying a child. I believe it’s yours. For now, these are the important things you ought to know.”

“You’re carrying my child?” The driver might be listening, but Tengo wasn’t worrying about it at this point.

“We haven’t seen each other in twenty years,” Aomame said, “but yes, I’m carrying your child. I’m going to give birth to your child. I know it sounds totally crazy.”

Tengo was silent, waiting for her to continue.

“Do you remember that terrible thunderstorm in the beginning of September?”

“I remember it well,” Tengo said. “The weather was nice all day, then after sunset it turned stormy, with wild lightning. Water flowed down into the Akasaka-Mitsuke Station and they had to shut down the subway for a while.” The Little People are stirring, Fuka-Eri had said.

“I got pregnant the night of that storm,” Aomame said. “But I didn’t have those sorts of relations with anyone on that day, or for several months before and after.”

She paused and waited until this reality had sunk in, then continued.

“But it definitely happened that night. And I’m certain that the child I’m carrying is yours. I can’t explain it, but I know it’s true.”

The memory of the strange sexual encounter he had with Fuka-Eri that night came back to him. Lightning was crashing outside, huge drops of rain lashing the window. The Little People were indeed stirring. He was lying there, faceup in bed, his whole body numb, and Fuka-Eri straddled him, inserted his penis inside her, and squeezed out his semen. She looked like she was in a complete trance. Her eyes were closed from start to finish, as if she were lost in meditation. Her breasts were ample and round, and she had no pubic hair. The whole scene was unreal, but he knew it had really happened.

The next morning, Fuka-Eri had acted as if she had no memory of the events of the previous night, or else tried to give the impression that she didn’t remember. To Tengo it had felt more like a business transaction than sex. On that stormy night, Fuka-Eri used his body to collect his semen, down to the very last drop. Even now, Tengo could recall that strange sensation. Fuka-Eri had seemed to become a totally different person.

“There is something I recall,” Tengo said dryly. “Something that happened to me that night that logic can’t explain.”

Aomame looked deep into his eyes.

“At the time,” he went on, “I didn’t know what it meant. Even now, I’m not sure. But if you did get pregnant that night, and there’s no other possible explanation for it, then the child inside you has to be mine.”