“It is in one way: you have regrets after you make a mistake.”

They shared a laugh.

Aomame said, “It’s the same with menus and men and just about anything else: we think we’re choosing things for ourselves, but in fact we may not be choosing anything. It could be that everything’s decided in advance and we pretend we’re making choices. Free will may be an illusion. I often think that.”

“If that’s true, life is pretty dark.”

“Maybe so.”

“But if you can love someone with your whole heart—even if he’s a terrible person and even if he doesn’t love you back—life is not a hell, at least, though it might be kind of dark. Is that what you’re saying?” Ayumi asked.

“Exactly.”

“But still,” Ayumi said, “it seems to me that this world has a serious shortage of both logic and kindness.”

“You may be right,” Aomame said. “But it’s too late to trade it in for another one.”

“The exchange window expired a long time ago,” Ayumi said.

“And the receipt’s been thrown away.”

“You said it.”

“Oh, well, no problem,” Aomame said. “The world’s going to end before we know it.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“And the kingdom is going to come.”

“I can hardly wait,” Ayumi said.

They ate dessert, drank espresso, and split the bill (which was amazingly cheap). Then they dropped into a neighborhood bar for cocktails.

“Oh, look at him over there,” Ayumi said. “He’s your type, isn’t he?”

Aomame swung her gaze in that direction. A tall, middle-aged man was drinking a martini alone at the end of the bar. He looked like a high school scholar-athlete who had entered middle age virtually unchanged. His hair was beginning to thin, but he still had a youthful face.

“He may be, but we’re not having anything to do with men today,” Aomame declared. “And besides, this is a classy bar.”

“I know. I just wanted to see what you’d say.”

“We’ll do that next time.”

Ayumi looked at Aomame. “Does that mean you’ll go with me next time? Searching for men, I mean.”

“For sure,” Aomame said. “Let’s do it.”

“Great! Something tells me that together, we can do anything!”

Aomame was drinking a daiquiri, Ayumi a Tom Collins.

“Oh, by the way,” Aomame said, “on the phone the other day you said we were doing lesbian stuff. What kind of stuff?”

“Oh, that,” Ayumi said. “It was nothing special. We just faked it a bit to liven things up. You really don’t remember anything? You were pretty hot.”

“Not a thing. My memory is wiped clean.”

“We were naked and touching each other’s breasts and kissing down there and—”

“Kissing down there?!” Aomame exclaimed. After the words escaped her lips, she nervously glanced around. She had spoken too loudly in the quiet bar, but fortunately no one seemed to have heard what she said.

“Don’t worry, like I said, we were faking it. No tongues.”

“Oh, man,” Aomame sighed, pressing her temples. “What the hell was that all about?”

“I’m sorry,” Ayumi said.

“It’s not your fault. I should never have let myself get so drunk.”

“But really, Aomame, you were so sweet and clean down there. Like new.”

“Well, of course, I really am almost new down there.”

“You mean you don’t use it all that often?”

Aomame nodded. “That’s exactly what I mean. So, tell me: are you interested in women?”

Ayumi shook her head. “No, I never did anything like that before. Really. But I was pretty drunk, too, and I figured I wouldn’t mind doing a little of that stuff as long as it was with you. Faking it. Just for fun. How about you?”

“No, I don’t have those kinds of feelings, either. Once, though, when I was in high school, I kind of did stuff like that with a good friend of mine. Neither of us had been planning it. It just sort of happened.”

“It’s probably not that unusual. Did you feel anything that time?”

“I did, I think,” Aomame answered honestly. “But only that once. I also felt it was wrong and never did anything like it again.”

“You mean you think lesbian sex is wrong?”

“No, not at all. I’m not saying lesbian sex is wrong or dirty or anything. I mean I just felt I shouldn’t get into that kind of a relationship with that particular friend. I didn’t want to change an important friendship into anything so physical.”

“I see,” Ayumi said. “You know, if it’s okay with you, would you mind putting me up tonight? I don’t feel like going back to the dorm. The minute I walk in there it will just ruin the elegant mood we’ve managed to create this evening.”

Aomame took her last sip of daiquiri and set her glass on the bar. “I don’t mind putting you up, but no fooling around.”

“No, no, that’s fine, I’m not looking for that. I just want to stay with you a little longer. I don’t care where you put me to bed. I can sleep anywhere—even on the floor. And I’m off duty tomorrow, so we can hang out in the morning, too.”

They took the subway back to Aomame’s apartment in Jiyugaoka, arriving just before eleven. Both were pleasantly drunk and sleepy. Aomame put bedding on the sofa and lent Ayumi a pair of pajamas.

“Can I get in bed with you for a minute or two?” Ayumi asked. “I want to stay close to you just a little bit longer. No funny business, I promise.”

“I don’t mind,” Aomame said, struck by the fact that a woman who had killed three men would be lying in bed with an active-duty policewoman. Life was so strange!

Ayumi crawled under the covers and wrapped her arms around Aomame, her firm breasts pressing against Aomame’s arm, her breath smelling of alcohol and toothpaste. “Don’t you think my breasts are too big?” she asked Aomame.

“Not at all. They’re beautiful.”

“Sure, but, I don’t know, big boobs make you look stupid, don’t you think? Mine bounce when I run, and I’m too embarrassed to hang my bras out to dry—they’re like two big salad bowls.”

“Men seem to like them like that.”

“And even my nipples are too big.” Ayumi unbuttoned her pajama top and pulled out a breast. “Look. This is a big nipple! Don’t you think it’s odd?”

Aomame looked at Ayumi’s nipple. It was certainly not small, but not so big as to cause concern, maybe a little bit bigger than Tamaki’s. “It’s nice. Did somebody tell you your nipples are too big?”

“Yeah, one guy. He said they’re the biggest he’s ever seen in his life.”

“I’m sure he hadn’t seen very many. Yours are ordinary. Mine are too small.”

“No, I like your breasts. They’re very elegantly shaped, and they give this intellectual impression.”

“That’s ridiculous. They’re too small, and they’re different sizes. I have trouble buying bras because one side is bigger than the other.”

“Really? I guess we all have our issues.”

“Exactly. Now go to sleep,” Aomame said.

Ayumi stretched her arm down and started to put a finger into Aomame’s pajamas. Aomame grabbed her hand.

“No, you promised.”

“Sorry,” Ayumi said, pulling her hand back. “You’re right, I did promise, didn’t I? I must be drunk. But I’m crazy about you. Like some mousy little high school girl.”

Aomame said nothing.

Almost whispering, Ayumi said, “What I think is that you’re saving the one thing that’s most important to you for that boy. It’s true, isn’t it? I envy you. That you’ve got somebody to save yourself for.”

She could be right, Aomame thought. But what is the one thing that’s most important to me?

“Now go to sleep,” Aomame said. “I’ll hold you until you fall asleep.”

“Thank you,” Ayumi said. “Sorry for putting you to so much trouble.”

“Don’t apologize. This is no trouble.”

Aomame continued to feel Ayumi’s warm breath against her side. A dog howled in the distance, and someone slammed a window shut. All the while, Aomame kept stroking Ayumi’s hair.