Tamayo was the first to grow sick of it and she quit to work as a caddie at a nearby golf course. But she soon hurt her back and took an office job at the Chamber of Commerce. Around the time she quit the caddie job, Mitsuyo was let go by the food factory. The company was downsizing, and the first to be fired were the girls like Mitsuyo who’d only graduated from high school.

The employment office at the factory introduced her to the menswear shop. She wasn’t good at dealing with customers, but wasn’t in a position to wait for something that suited her better.

They rented this apartment around the time that Mitsuyo first started working at Wakaba. Tamayo claimed that if they kept living at home, they’d never get married, and so she half forced Mitsuyo into the idea of moving in with her.

The twins always got along well and continued to do so after living together. Their parents were glad to get the two nagging older sisters out of the house, for it gave them the chance to seriously start preparing for the girls’ younger brother, their eldest son, to get married. And sure enough, three years later he married a former high school classmate. The girl was twenty-two at the time, three years younger than the twins. In attendance at the wedding were several of their brother’s friends, themselves already married with babies-not an uncommon scene at this suburban wedding hall.

“Hey, what d’you think one of the girls at the Chamber of Commerce asked me?”

After they finished their udon, Mitsuyo was washing the dishes in the kitchen, Tamayo sprawled out in front of the TV.

“‘What’re you doing for Christmas?’ she asked. How am I supposed to answer a nineteen-year-old who asks me that?” Tamayo was watching a show on dieting and doing leg lifts as she watched.

“But weren’t you going to take some vacation time and go on a trip?”

“Yeah, but taking a bus trip around the Shimanami Kaido Expressway with a bunch of women seems kind of sad, don’t you think? Hey, do you want to go with me?”

“No way. We’re together every day. Just the thought of taking a trip with you on my vacation makes me tired.”

Mitsuyo added a little dishwashing liquid to her sponge. In the kitchen hung a calendar from the local supermarket. Other than notations of garbage days and her days off, the calendar was blank.

Christmas, Mitsuyo murmured as she squeezed the sponge. The last few years Mitsuyo had spent Christmas with her parents. Her brother’s little boy, born not too long after the wedding, had his birthday on Christmas Eve, so he’d always go home with an armful of presents.

She’d been squeezing the sponge too hard and the suds had dripped down on her rubber glove. She stood there, watching as the suds slid down the glove to her elbow and then, once enough suds accumulated, into the sink with all the dirty dishes. The soapy suds made her elbow itch. Her whole body felt itchy.

Yuichi rolled over several times in bed, as if to test how creaky the springs were.

It was 8:50 p.m. Too early to sleep, but these past few days he’d tried to fall asleep as soon as he could, so right after taking a bath and having dinner he went to bed, even though his eyes remained wide open.

He’d toss and turn, and start to notice the smell of his pillow, and the feel of his blanket and how it rubbed against his neck the wrong way.

And most nights, before he knew it, he had an erection. His hard penis under the blanket was nearly as hot as the infrared space heater next to his bed.

Nine days had passed since the murder. The TV talk shows had all reported how the Fukuoka college student sought as a material witness was still missing, but the last couple of days, the shows had been silent about the murder at Mitsuse Pass.

As the local patrolman had told Fusae, the only lead the police were pursuing was to find the missing college student. Since then, the police hadn’t contacted Yuichi’s home, or tried to question him. Nothing at all happened, as if he’d disappeared from their radar.

When he closed his eyes, he felt as if he were driving over the pass again, holding on to the steering wheel so tightly he nearly spun out on some of the curves. The headlights of his car lit up the forest as the white guardrails drew closer.

Yuichi rolled over again. Go to sleep! he commanded himself, burying his face in the pillow, smelling its mixture of sweat, body odor, and shampoo.

Right then his phone beeped, signaling an e-mail. Suddenly freed from being forced to go to sleep, he reached out for the cell phone, which lay inside the pocket of the pants he’d tossed on the floor.

It has to be Hifumi, he thought, but he didn’t recognize the number.

He got up and sat cross-legged. Though it was winter, he still slept just in his underwear, and his back facing the heater soon got hot.

Hello. Remember me? We exchanged a few messages a couple of months ago. I’m the elder of twin sisters who live in Saga, and you were going on and on about some lighthouse. Have you forgotten? Sorry for the sudden e-mail.

After he read the message Yuichi scratched his back, which was still facing the heater. In just a short time, it felt as if he’d been burned.

He got out of bed and sat on the tatami. As he slid forward his trousers and sweatshirt got twisted in his knees.

Yuichi remembered the girl. Two months ago he had registered his address on a dating site and gotten five or six replies. Hers was one of them, and they’d e-mailed for a while, but when he invited her to go for a drive she suddenly stopped replying.

Hey, it’s been a while. So what’s up all of a sudden?

His fingers worked smoothly over the keys. Usually when he spoke, something in his mind interfered before he could get the words out, but when he sent e-mails, the words flowed easily.

You remember me? I’m happy. No, nothing’s really going on. I just felt like e-mailing you.

He couldn’t remember her name, but even if he did, he was sure it was an alias.

How have you been? Yuichi replied. You were talking about buying a car, so did you get one?

No, I didn’t. I’m still commuting by bike. How about you? Anything nice happen lately?

Nice?

A new girlfriend, maybe?

Nope. How about you?

No such luck. Hey, have you gone to any new lighthouses since then?

No, I haven’t gone at all. On the weekends I just hang out at home.

No kidding? Hey, where was that lighthouse you recommended, the one you said was so pretty?

Where did I say it was? In Nagasaki? Or Saga?

Nagasaki. You said there’s a little island next to it you can walk to with a lookout platform. You said the sunset from there is so gorgeous it makes you almost cry.

Oh, that’s Kabashima Lighthouse. It’s near where I live.

How far is it?

Fifteen, twenty minutes by car.

Really? You live in such a nice place.

I wouldn’t say that.

But it’s near the sea, right?

Yeah, the sea’s right nearby.

Just then, as he e-mailed about the sea, Yuichi heard the sound of the waves against the breakwaters outside. The waves sounded louder at night. He could hear the waves the whole night long, washing over his body as he lay in his narrow bed.

At those times Yuichi felt as though he were a piece of driftwood bobbing in the waves. The waves were about to wash over him, but never quite reached him; he was about to be washed up on the beach but never quite reached it, either. A piece of driftwood tumbling about at the shoreline.

Is there one in Saga, too? A pretty lighthouse?

Yuichi replied right away: Yeah, there’s one in Saga.

But it must be around Karatsu, right? I live in Saga City.

Yuichi had never heard this girl speak, but with each word he felt he could hear her voice.

Yuichi had driven through Saga many times and tried to picture the scenery. Compared to Nagasaki, Saga was boringly flat, with the same monotonous roads wherever you went. No mountains anywhere. No steep slopes or little cobblestone alleys like in Nagasaki. Just newly paved, arrow-straight roads lined with big-box bookstores, pachinko parlors, and fast-food places. Each store’s massive parking lot was filled with cars, but somehow the only thing missing was people.