Kino By Haruki Murakami . sean marc lee : New Murakami short story about a bar owner " Happiness ? He wasn 't even sure what that meant . " | NEAATO Blog " Happiness ? He wasn 't even sure what that meant . He didn 't have a clear sense , either , of emotions like pain or anger , disappointment or resignation , and how they were supposed to feel . The most he could do was create a place where his heart - devoid now of any depth or weight - could be tethered , to keep it from wandering aimlessly . This little bar , Kino , tucked into a backstreet , became that place . " The man always sat in the same seat , the stool farthest down the counter . When it wasn 't occupied , that is , but it was nearly always free . The bar was seldom crowded , and that particular seat was the most inconspicuous and the least comfortable . A staircase in the back made the ceiling slanted and low , so it was hard to stand up there without bumping your head . The man was tall , yet , for some reason , preferred that cramped , narrow spot . Kino remembered the first time the man had come to his bar . His appearance had immediately caught Kino 's eye - the bluish shaved head , the thin build yet broad shoulders , the keen glint in his eye , the prominent cheekbones and wide forehead . He looked to be in his early thirties , and he wore a long gray raincoat , though it wasn 't raining . At first , Kino tagged him as a yakuza , and was on his guard around him . It was seven - thirty , on a chilly mid - April evening , and the bar was empty . The man chose the seat at the end of the counter , took off his coat , and in a quiet voice ordered a beer , then silently read a thick book . After half an hour , finished with the beer , he raised his hand an inch or two to motion Kino over , and ordered a whiskey . " Which brand ? " Kino asked , but the man said he had no preference . Kino poured some White Label into a glass , added the same amount of water and two small , nicely formed ice cubes . The man took a sip , scrutinized the glass , and narrowed his eyes . " This will do fine . " He read for another half hour , then stood up and paid his bill in cash . He counted out exact change so that he wouldn 't get any coins back . Kino breathed a small sigh of relief as soon as he was out the door . But after the man had left his presence remained . As Kino stood behind the counter , he glanced up occasionally at the seat the man had occupied , half expecting him still to be there , raising his hand a couple of inches to order something . The man began coming regularly to Kino 's bar . Once , at most twice , a week . He would invariably have a beer first , then a whiskey . Sometimes he would study the day 's menu on the blackboard and order a light meal . The man hardly ever said a word . He always came fairly early in the evening , a book tucked under his arm , which he would place on the counter . Whenever he got tired of reading ( at least , Kino guessed that he was tired ) , he looked up from the page and studied the bottles of liquor lined up on the shelves in front of him , as if examining a series of unusual taxidermied animals from faraway lands . Once Kino got used to the man , though , he never felt uncomfortable around him , even when it was just the two of them . Kino never spoke much himself , and didn 't find it hard to remain silent around others . While the man read , Kino did what he would do if he were alone - wash dishes , prepare sauces , choose records to play , or page through the newspaper . Kino didn 't know the man 's name . He was just a regular customer who came to the bar , enjoyed a beer and a whiskey , read silently , paid in cash , then left . He never bothered anybody else . What more did Kino need to know about him ? Back in college , Kino had been a standout middle - distance runner , but in his junior year he 'd torn his Achilles tendon and had to give up on the idea of joining a corporate track team . After graduation , on his coach 's recommendation , he got a job at a sports - equipment company , and he stayed there for seventeen years . At work , he was in charge of persuading sports stores to stock his brand of running shoes and leading athletes to try them out . The company , a mid - level firm headquartered in Okayama , was far from well known , and lacked the financial power of a Nike or an Adidas to draw up exclusive contracts with the world 's best runners . Still , it made carefully handcrafted shoes for top athletes , and quite a few swore by its products . " Do an honest job and it will pay off " was the slogan of the company 's founder , and that low - key , somewhat anachronistic approach suited Kino 's personality . Even a taciturn , unsociable man like him was able to make a go of sales . Actually , it was because of his personality that coaches trusted him and athletes took a liking to him . He listened carefully to each runner 's needs , and made sure that the head of manufacturing got all the details . The pay wasn 't much to speak of , but he found the job engaging and satisfying . Although he couldn 't run anymore himself , he loved seeing the runners race around the track , their form textbook perfect . When Kino quit his job , it wasn 't because he was dissatisfied with his work but because he discovered that his wife was having an affair with his best friend at the company . Kino spent more time out on the road than at home in Tokyo . He 'd stuff a large gym bag full of shoe samples and make the rounds of sporting - goods stores all over Japan , also visiting local colleges and companies that sponsored track teams . His wife and his colleague started sleeping together while he was away . Kino wasn 't the type who easily picked up on clues . He thought everything was fine with his marriage , and nothing his wife said or did tipped him off to the contrary . If he hadn 't happened to come home from a business trip a day early , he might never have discovered what was going on . When he got back to Tokyo that day , he went straight to his condo in Kasai , only to find his wife and his friend naked and entwined in his bedroom , in the bed where he and his wife slept . His wife was on top , and when Kino opened the door he came face to face with her and her lovely breasts bouncing up and down . He was thirty - nine then , his wife thirty - five . They had no children . Kino lowered his head , shut the bedroom door , left the apartment , and never went back . The next day , he quit his job . Kino had an unmarried aunt , his mother 's older sister . Ever since he was a child , his aunt had been nice to him . She 'd had an older boyfriend for many years ( " lover " might be the more accurate term ) , and he had generously given her a small house in Aoyama . She lived on the second floor of the house , and ran a coffee shop on the first floor . In front was a small garden and an impressive willow tree , with low - hanging , leafy branches . The house was on a narrow backstreet behind the Nezu Museum , not exactly the best location for drawing customers , but his aunt had a gift for attracting people , and her coffee shop did a decent amount of business . After she turned sixty , though , she hurt her back , and it became increasingly difficult for her to run the shop alone . She decided to move to a resort condo in the Izu Kogen Highlands . " I was wondering if eventually you might want to take over the shop ? " she asked Kino . This was three months before he discovered his wife 's affair . " I appreciate the offer , " he told her , " but right now I 'm happy where I am . " After he submitted his resignation at work , he phoned his aunt to ask if she 'd sold the shop yet . It was listed with a real - estate agent , she told him , but no serious offers had come in . " I 'd like to open a bar there if I can , " Kino said . " Could I pay you rent by the month ? " Kino didn 't explain the reason , and his aunt didn 't ask . There was silence for a time on the other end of the line . Then his aunt named a figure for the monthly rent , far lower than what Kino had expected . " I think I can handle that , " he told her . Kino used half of his savings to transform the coffee shop into a bar . He purchased simple furniture , and had a long , sturdy bar installed . He put up new wallpaper in a calming color , brought his record collection from home , and lined a shelf in the bar with LPs . He owned a decent stereo - a Thorens turntable , a Luxman amp , and small JBL two - way speakers - that he 'd bought when he was single , a fairly extravagant purchase back then . But he had always enjoyed listening to old jazz records . It was his only hobby , one that he didn 't share with anyone else he knew . In college , he 'd worked part time as a bartender at a pub in Roppongi , so he was well versed in the art of mixing cocktails . He called his bar Kino . He couldn 't come up with a better name . The first week he was open , he didn 't have a single customer , but he wasn 't perturbed . After all , he hadn 't advertised the place , or even put out an eye - catching sign . He simply waited patiently for curious people to stumble across this little backstreet bar . He still had some of his severance pay , and his wife hadn 't asked for any financial support . She was already living with his former colleague , and she and Kino had decided to sell their condo in Kasai . Kino lived on the second floor of his aunt 's house , and it looked as though , for the time being , he 'd be able to get by . As he waited for his first customer , Kino enjoyed listening to whatever music he liked and reading books he 'd been wanting to read . Like dry ground welcoming the rain , he let the solitude , silence , and loneliness soak in . He listened to a lot of Art Tatum solo - piano pieces . Somehow they seemed to fit his mood . He wasn 't sure why , but he felt no anger or bitterness toward his wife , or the colleague she was sleeping with . The betrayal had been a shock , for sure , but , as time passed , he began to feel as if it couldn 't have been helped , as if this had been his fate all along . In his life , after all , he had achieved nothing , had been totally unproductive . He couldn 't make anyone else happy , and , of course , couldn 't make himself happy . Happiness ? He wasn 't even sure what that meant . He didn 't have a clear sense , either , of emotions like pain or anger , disappointment or resignation , and how they were supposed to feel . The most he could do was create a place where his heart - devoid now of any depth or weight - could be tethered , to keep it from wandering aimlessly . This little bar , Kino , tucked into a backstreet , became that place . And it became , too - not by design , exactly - a strangely comfortable space . It wasn 't a person who first discovered what a comfortable place Kino was but a stray cat . A young gray female with a long , lovely tail . The cat favored a sunken display case in a corner of the bar and liked to curl up there to sleep . Kino didn 't pay much attention to the cat , figuring it wanted to be left alone . Once a day , he fed it and changed its water , but nothing beyond that . And he constructed a small pet door so that it could go in and out of the bar whenever it liked . The cat may have brought some good luck along with it , for after it appeared so did a scattering of customers . Some of them started to come by regularly - ones who took a liking to this little backstreet bar with its wonderful old willow tree , its quiet middle - aged owner , vintage records spinning on a turntable , and the gray cat sacked out in a corner . And these people sometimes brought other new customers . Still far from thriving , the bar at least earned back the rent . For Kino , that was enough . It was raining lightly that day , the kind of rain where you aren 't sure if you really need an umbrella . There were just three customers in the bar , Kamita and two men in suits . It was seven - thirty . As always , Kamita was at the farthest stool down the counter , sipping a White Label and water and reading . The two men were seated at a table , drinking a bottle of Pinot Noir . They had brought the bottle with them , and asked Kino if he would mind their drinking it there , for a five - thousand - yen cork fee . It was a first for Kino , but he had no reason to refuse . He opened the bottle and set down two wineglasses and a bowl of mixed nuts . Not much trouble at all . The two men smoked a lot , though , which for Kino , who hated cigarette smoke , made them less welcome . With little else to do , Kino sat on a stool and listened to the Coleman Hawkins LP with the track " Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho . " He found the bass solo by Major Holley amazing . At first , the two men seemed to be getting along fine , enjoying their wine , but then a difference of opinion arose on some topic or other - what it was , Kino had no idea - and the men grew steadily more worked up . At some point , one of them stood , tipping the table and sending the full ashtray and one of the wineglasses crashing to the floor . Kino hurried over with a broom , swept up the mess , and put a clean glass and ashtray on the table . Kamita - though at this time Kino had yet to learn his name - was clearly disgusted by the men 's behavior . His expression didn 't change , but he kept tapping the fingers of his left hand lightly on the counter , like a pianist checking the keys . I have to get this situation under control , Kino thought . He went over to the men . " I 'm sorry , " he said politely , " but I wonder if you 'd mind keeping your voices down a bit . " One of them looked up at him with a cold glint in his eye and rose from the table . Kino hadn 't noticed it until now , but the man was huge . He wasn 't so much tall as barrel - chested , with enormous arms , the sort of build you 'd expect of a sumo wrestler . The other man was much smaller . Thin and pale , with a shrewd look , the type who was good at egging people on . He slowly got up from his seat , too , and Kino found himself face to face with both of them . The men had apparently decided to use this opportunity to call a halt to their quarrel and jointly confront Kino . They were perfectly coördinated , almost as if they had secretly been waiting for this very situation to arise . The suits they wore seemed expensive , but closer inspection showed them to be tacky and poorly made . Not full - fledged yakuza , though whatever work they were involved in was , clearly , not respectable . The larger man had a crew cut , while his companion 's hair was dyed brown and pulled back in a high ponytail . Kino steeled himself for something bad to happen . Sweat began to pour from his armpits . " Don 't blame the staff , " Kamita said , pointing to Kino . " I 'm the one who asked him to request that you keep it down . It makes it hard to concentrate , and I can 't read my book . " " My name is Kamita , " he said . " It 's written with the characters for ' god ' - kami - and ' field ' : ' god 's field . ' But it isn 't pronounced ' Kanda , ' as you might expect . It 's pronounced ' Kamita . ' " Fine with me , " Kamita said . " Anywhere you say . But , before we do that , could you pay your check ? You don 't want to cause the bar any trouble . " " I don 't need any change back , " Ponytail told Kino . " But why don 't ya buy yourself some better wineglasses ? This is expensive wine , and glasses like these make it taste like shit . " " Correct . A cheap bar with cheap customers , " Kamita said . " It doesn 't suit you . There 's got to be somewhere else that does . Not that I know where . " " Not to worry , " Kamita said , with a slight smile . " You don 't need to do anything , Mr . Kino . Just stay put . This will be over soon . " Kamita went outside and shut the door . It was still raining , a little harder than before . Kino sat down on a stool and waited . It was oddly still outside , and he couldn 't hear a thing . Kamita 's book lay open on the counter , like a well - trained dog waiting for its master . About ten minutes later , the door opened , and in strode Kamita , alone . Kino handed him a fresh towel , and Kamita wiped his head . Then his neck , face , and , finally , both hands . " Thank you . Everything 's O . K . now , " he said . " Those two won 't be showing their faces here again . " Later that evening , after Kamita had gone , Kino went outside and made a circuit of the neighborhood . The alley was deserted and quiet . No signs of a fight , no trace of blood . He couldn 't imagine what had taken place . He went back to the bar to wait for other customers , but no one else came that night . The cat didn 't return , either . He poured himself some White Label , added an equal amount of water and two small ice cubes , and tasted it . Nothing special , about what you 'd expect . But that night he needed a shot of alcohol in his system . About a week after the incident , Kino slept with a female customer . She was the first woman he 'd had sex with since he left his wife . She was thirty , or perhaps a little older . He wasn 't sure if she would be classified as beautiful , but there was something unique about her , something that stood out . The woman had been to the bar several times before , always in the company of a man of about the same age who wore tortoiseshell - framed glasses and a beatnik - like goatee . He had unruly hair and never wore a tie , so Kino figured he was probably not your typical company employee . The woman always wore a tight - fitting dress that showed off her slender , shapely figure . They sat at the bar , exchanging an occasional hushed word or two as they sipped cocktails or sherry . They never stayed long . Kino imagined they were having a drink before they made love . Or else after . He couldn 't say which , but the way they drank reminded him of sex . Drawn - out , intense sex . The two of them were strangely expressionless , especially the woman , whom Kino had never seen smile . She spoke to him sometimes , always about the music that was playing . She liked jazz and was collecting LPs herself . " My father used to listen to this music at home , " she told him . " Hearing it brings back a lot of memories . " Kino actually tried not to have too much to do with the woman . It was clear that the man wasn 't very pleased when he was friendly to her . One time he and the woman did have a lengthy conversation - exchanging tips on used - record stores in Tokyo and the best way to take care of vinyl - and , after that , the man kept shooting him cold , suspicious looks . Kino was usually careful to keep his distance from any sort of entanglement . Nothing was worse than jealousy and pride , and Kino had had a number of awful experiences because of one or the other . It struck him at times that there was something about him that stirred up the dark side in other people . That night , though , the woman came to the bar alone . There were no other customers , and when she opened the door cool night air crept in . She sat at the counter , ordered a brandy , and asked Kino to play some Billie Holiday . " Something really old , if you could . " Kino put a Columbia record on the turntable , one with the track " Georgia on My Mind . " The two of them listened silently . " Could you play the other side , too ? " she asked , when it ended , and he did as she requested . She slowly worked her way through three brandies , listening to a few more records - Erroll Garner 's " Moonglow , " Buddy DeFranco 's " I Can 't Get Started . " At first , Kino thought she was waiting for the man , but she didn 't glance at her watch even once . She just sat there , listening to the music , lost in thought , sipping her brandy . " He isn 't coming . He 's far away , " the woman said . She stood up from the stool and walked over to where the cat lay sleeping . She gently stroked its back with her fingertips . The cat , unperturbed , went on sleeping . " I 'm not sure how to put it , " the woman said . She stopped petting the cat and went back to the bar , high heels clicking . " Our relationship isn 't exactly . . . normal . " Whatever it was , Kino didn 't want to see it . Of that he was certain . But he didn 't manage to produce the words to say so . The woman removed her cardigan and placed it on the stool . She reached both hands behind her and unzipped her dress . She turned her back to Kino . Just below her white bra clasp he saw an irregular sprinkling of marks the color of faded charcoal , like bruises . They reminded him of constellations in the winter sky . A dark row of depleted stars . The woman said nothing , just displayed her bare back to Kino . Like someone who cannot even comprehend the meaning of the question he has been asked , Kino just stared at the marks . Finally , she zipped up and turned to face him . She put on her cardigan and fixed her hair . Kino had felt , from the first , that there was something out of the ordinary about the woman . Something had triggered an instinctive response , warning him not to get involved with her . He was basically a cautious person . If he really needed to sleep with a woman , he could always make do with a professional . And it wasn 't as if he were even attracted to this woman . But that night she desperately wanted a man to make love to her - and it seemed that he was the man . Her eyes were depthless , the pupils strangely dilated , but there was a decisive glitter in them that would brook no retreat . Kino didn 't have the power to resist . He locked up the bar , and the two of them went upstairs . In the bedroom , the woman quickly took off her dress , peeled off her underwear , and showed him the places that were a little hard to show . Kino couldn 't help averting his eyes at first , but then was drawn back to look . He couldn 't understand , nor did he want to understand , the mind of a man who would do something so cruel , or of a woman who would willingly endure it . It was a savage scene from a barren planet , light - years away from where Kino lived . The woman took his hand and guided it to the scars , making him touch each one in turn . There were scars on her breasts , and beside her vagina . He traced those dark , hard marks , as if he were using a pencil to connect the dots . The marks seemed to form a shape that reminded him of something , but he couldn 't think what it was . They had sex on the tatami floor . No words exchanged , no foreplay , no time even to turn off the light or lay out the futon . The woman 's tongue slid down his throat , her nails dug into his back . Under the light , like two starving animals , they devoured the flesh they craved . When dawn began to show outside , they crawled onto the futon and slept , as if dragged down into darkness . Kino awoke just before noon , and the woman was gone . He felt as if he 'd had a very realistic dream , but of course it hadn 't been a dream . His back was lined with scratches , his arms with bite marks , his penis wrung by a dull ache . Several long black hairs swirled around his white pillow , and the sheets had a strong scent he 'd never smelled before . The woman came to the bar several times after that , always with the goateed man . They would sit at the counter , speak in subdued voices as they drank a cocktail or two , and then leave . The woman would exchange a few words with Kino , mostly about music . Her tone was the same as before , as if she had no memory of what had taken place between them that night . Still , Kino could detect a glint of desire in her eyes , like a faint light deep down a mineshaft . He was sure of it . And it brought everything vividly back to him - the stab of her nails into his back , the sting of his penis , her long , slithering tongue , the odor on his bedding . The legal issues were quickly settled , and the two of them signed the necessary documents . Kino 's wife was wearing a new blue dress , her hair cut short . She looked healthier and more cheerful than he 'd ever seen her . She 'd begun a new , no doubt more fulfilling , life . She glanced around the bar . " What a wonderful place , " she said . " Quiet , clean , and calm - very you . " A short silence followed . " But there 's nothing here that really moves you " : Kino imagined that these were the words she wanted to say . Kino took out two wineglasses and poured some Napa Zinfandel . They drank in silence . They weren 't about to toast to their divorce . The cat padded over and , surprisingly , leaped into Kino 's lap . Kino petted it behind its ears . " I suppose so , " Kino said , after giving it some thought . " I 'm human , after all . I was hurt . But whether it was a lot or a little I can 't say . " " It 's nobody 's fault , " he said . " I shouldn 't have come home a day early . Or I should have let you know I was coming . Then we wouldn 't have had to go through that . " " Better for me not to know , you mean ? Maybe you 're right about that , " Kino admitted . He kept on petting the cat , which purred deeply . Another first . " I know there must be a woman out there who 's right for you . It shouldn 't be that hard to find her . I wasn 't able to be that person for you , and I did a terrible thing . I feel awful about it . But there was something wrong between us from the start , as if we 'd done the buttons up wrong . I think you should be able to have a more normal , happy life . " He looked at the new dress she was wearing . They were sitting facing each other , so he couldn 't tell if there was a zipper or buttons at the back . But he couldn 't help thinking about what he would see if he unzipped or unbuttoned her clothes . Her body was no longer his , so all he could do was imagine it . When he closed his eyes , he saw countless dark - brown burn marks wriggling on her pure - white back , like a swarm of worms . He shook his head to dispel that image , and his wife seemed to misinterpret this . It took a few days for Kino to realize that it was gone . This cat - still nameless - came to the bar when it wanted to and sometimes didn 't show up for a while , so if Kino didn 't see it for a week , or even ten days , he wasn 't particularly worried . He was fond of the cat , and the cat seemed to trust him . It was also like a good - luck charm for the bar . Kino had the distinct impression that as long as it was asleep in a corner nothing bad would happen . But when two weeks had passed he began to be concerned . After three weeks , Kino 's gut told him that the cat wouldn 't be coming back . The first snake he saw was a dull brown and long . It was in the shade of the willow tree in the front yard , leisurely slithering along . Kino , a bag of groceries in hand , was unlocking the door when he spotted it . It was rare to see a snake in the middle of Tokyo . He was a bit surprised , but he didn 't worry about it . Behind his building was the Nezu Museum , with its large gardens . It wasn 't inconceivable that a snake might be living there . But two days later , as he opened the door just before noon to retrieve the paper , he saw a different snake in the same spot . This one was bluish , smaller than the other one , and slimy - looking . When the snake saw Kino , it stopped , raised its head slightly , and stared at him , as if it knew him . Kino hesitated , unsure what to do , and the snake slowly lowered its head and vanished into the shade . The whole thing gave Kino the creeps . Three days later , he spied the third snake . It was also under the willow tree in the front yard . This snake was considerably smaller than the others and blackish . Kino knew nothing about snakes , but this one struck him as the most dangerous . It looked poisonous , somehow . The instant it sensed his presence , it slipped away into the weeds . Three snakes within the space of a week , no matter how you considered it , was too many . Something strange was going on . " Snakes ? " his aunt said loudly , in surprise . " I lived there for a long time but can 't recall ever seeing any snakes . I wonder if it 's a sign of an earthquake or something . Animals sense disasters coming and start to act strange . " " I don 't know what they 're sensitive to , " his aunt said . " But snakes are smart creatures . In ancient legends , they often help guide people . But , when a snake leads you , you don 't know whether it 's taking you in a good direction or a bad one . In most cases , it 's a combination of good and evil . " " Exactly . Snakes are essentially ambiguous creatures . In these legends , the biggest , smartest snake hides its heart somewhere outside its body , so that it doesn 't get killed . If you want to kill that snake , you need to go to its hideout when it 's not there , locate the beating heart , and cut it in two . Not an easy task , for sure . " Kino began to feel as if the house were surrounded by snakes . He sensed their quiet presence . At midnight , when he closed the bar , the neighborhood was still , with no sound other than the occasional siren . So quiet he could almost hear a snake slithering along . He took a board and nailed shut the pet door he 'd built for the cat , so that no snakes would get inside the house . One night , just before ten , Kamita appeared . He had a beer , followed by his usual double White Label , and ate a stuffed - cabbage dish . It was unusual for him to come by so late , and stay so long . Occasionally , he glanced up from his reading to stare at the wall in front of him , as if pondering something . As closing time approached , he remained , until he was the last customer . " I really liked this bar a lot , " Kamita said , as if confiding in him . " It was quiet , so I could read , and I enjoyed the music . I was very happy when you opened the bar here . Unfortunately , though , there are some things missing . " Kino followed Kamita 's gaze , and looked carefully around the bar , but saw nothing out of the ordinary . He did , though , get a sense that the place felt emptier than ever , lacking vitality and color . Something beyond the usual , just - closed - for - the - night feeling . Kamita spoke up . " Mr . Kino , you 're not the type who would willingly do something wrong . I know that very well . But there are times in this world when it 's not enough just not to do the wrong thing . Some people use that blank space as a kind of loophole . Do you understand what I 'm saying ? " " Think it over carefully , " Kamita said , gazing straight into Kino 's eyes . " It 's a very important question , worth some serious thought . Though the answer may not come all that easily . " Kamita nodded . " You could put it that way . But I 'm not blaming just you , Mr . Kino . I 'm at fault , too , for not having noticed it earlier . I should have been paying more attention . This was a comfortable place not just for me but for anybody . " " Close the bar for a while and go far away . There 's nothing else you can do at this point . I think it 's best for you to leave before we have another long spell of rain . Excuse me for asking , but do you have enough money to take a long trip ? " " I 'm just a guy named Kamita , " Kamita said . " Written with the characters for kami , ' god , ' and ta , ' field , ' but not read as ' Kanda . ' I 've lived around here for a long time . " Kamita didn 't respond . " Here 's what you do . Go far away , and don 't stay in one place for long . And every Monday and Thursday make sure to send a postcard . Then I 'll know you 're O . K . " " You can mail it to your aunt in Izu . Do not write your own name or any message whatsoever . Just put the address you 're sending it to . This is very important , so don 't forget . " " Yes , I know her quite well . Actually , she asked me to keep an eye on you , to make sure that nothing bad happened . Seems like I fell down on the job , though . " " Mr . Kino , when I know that it 's all right for you to return I 'll get in touch with you . Until then , stay away from here . Do you understand ? " That night , Kino packed for the trip . It 's best for you to leave before we have another long spell of rain . The announcement was so sudden , and its logic eluded him . But Kamita 's words had a strange persuasive power that went beyond logic . Kino didn 't doubt him . He stuffed some clothes and toiletries into a medium - sized shoulder bag , the same bag he 'd used on business trips . As dawn came , he pinned a notice to the front door : " Our apologies , but the bar will be closed for the time being . " Far away , Kamita had told him . But where he should actually go he had no idea . Should he head north ? Or south ? He decided that he would start by retracing a route he often used to take when he was selling running shoes . He boarded a highway express bus and went to Takamatsu . He would make one circuit of Shikoku and then head over to Kyushu . He checked into a business hotel near Takamatsu Station and stayed there for three days . He wandered around the town and went to see a few movies . The cinemas were deserted during the day , and the movies were , without exception , mind - numbing . When it got dark , he returned to his room and switched on the TV . He followed his aunt 's advice and watched educational programs , but got no useful information from them . The second day in Takamatsu was a Thursday , so he bought a postcard at a convenience store , affixed a stamp , and mailed it to his aunt . As Kamita had instructed him , he wrote only her name and address . " Think it over carefully , " Kamita had told him . " It 's a very important question , worth some serious thought . " But , no matter how seriously he considered it , Kino couldn 't work out what the problem was . A few days later , Kino was staying at a cheap business hotel near Kumamoto Station , in Kyushu . Low ceiling , narrow , cramped bed , tiny TV set , minuscule bathtub , crummy little fridge . He felt like some awkward , bumbling giant . Still , except for a trip to a nearby convenience store , he stayed holed up in the room all day . At the store , he purchased a small flask of whiskey , some mineral water , and some crackers to snack on . He lay on his bed , reading . When he got tired of reading , he watched TV . When he got tired of watching TV , he read . It was his third day in Kumamoto now . He still had money in his savings account and , if he 'd wanted to , he could have stayed in a much better hotel . But he felt that , for him , just now , this was the right place . If he stayed in a small space like this , he wouldn 't have to do any unnecessary thinking , and everything he needed was within reach . He was unexpectedly grateful for this . All he wished for was some music . Teddy Wilson , Vic Dickenson , Buck Clayton - sometimes he longed desperately to listen to their old - time jazz , with its steady , dependable technique and its straightforward chords . He wanted to feel the pure joy they had in performing , their wonderful optimism . But his record collection was far away . He pictured his bar , quiet since he 'd closed it . The alleyway , the large willow tree . People reading the sign he 'd posted and leaving . What about the cat ? If it came back , it would find its door boarded up . And were the snakes still silently encircling the house ? Straight across from his eighth - floor window was the window of an office building . From morning till evening , he watched people working there . He had no idea what kind of business it was . Men in ties would pop in and out , while women tapped away at computer keyboards , answered the phone , filed documents . Not exactly the sort of scene to draw one 's interest . The features and the clothes of the people working there were ordinary , banal even . Kino watched them for hours for one simple reason : he had nothing else to do . And he found it unexpected , surprising , how happy the people sometimes looked . Some of them occasionally burst out laughing . Why ? Working all day in such an unglamorous office , doing things that ( at least to Kino 's eyes ) seemed totally uninspired - how could they do that and still feel so happy ? Was there some secret hidden there that he couldn 't comprehend ? It was about time for him to move on again . Don 't stay in one place for long , Kamita had told him . Yet somehow Kino couldn 't bring himself to leave this cramped little Kumamoto hotel . He couldn 't think of anywhere he wanted to go . The world was a vast ocean with no landmarks , Kino a little boat that had lost its chart and its anchor . When he spread open the map of Kyushu , wondering where to go next , he felt nauseated , as if seasick . He lay down in bed and read a book , glancing up now and then to watch the people in the office across the way . It was a Monday , so he bought a postcard in the hotel gift shop with a picture of Kumamoto Castle , wrote his aunt 's name and address , and slapped on a stamp . He held the postcard for a while , vacantly gazing at the castle . A stereotypical photo , the kind you expect to see on a postcard : the castle keep towering grandly in front of a blue sky and puffy white clouds . No matter how long he looked at the photo , Kino could find no point of contact between himself and that castle . Then , on an impulse , he turned the postcard over and wrote a message to his aunt : How are you ? How is your back these days ? As you can see , I 'm still travelling around by myself . Sometimes I feel as if I were half transparent . As if you could see right through to my internal organs , like a fresh - caught squid . Other than that , I 'm doing O . K . I hope to visit sometime . Kino Kino wasn 't at all sure what had motivated him to write that . Kamita had strictly forbidden it . But Kino couldn 't restrain himself . I have to somehow get connected to reality again , he thought , or else I won 't be me anymore . I 'll become a man who doesn 't exist . And , before he could change his mind , he hurried out to a mailbox near the hotel and slipped the postcard inside . When he awoke , the clock next to his bed showed two - fifteen . Someone was knocking on his door . Not a loud knock but a firm , compact sound , like that of a skilled carpenter pounding a nail . The sound dragged Kino out of a deep sleep until his consciousness was thoroughly , even cruelly , clear . Kino knew what the knocking meant . And he knew that he was supposed to get out of bed and open the door . Whatever was doing the knocking didn 't have the strength to open the door from the outside . It had to be opened by Kino 's own hand . It struck him that this visit was exactly what he 'd been hoping for , yet , at the same time , what he 'd been fearing above all . This was ambiguity : holding on to an empty space between two extremes . " You were hurt , a little , weren 't you ? " his wife had asked . " I 'm human , after all . I was hurt , " he 'd replied . But that wasn 't true . Half of it , at least , was a lie . I wasn 't hurt enough when I should have been , Kino admitted to himself . When I should have felt real pain , I stifled it . I didn 't want to take it on , so I avoided facing up to it . Which is why my heart is so empty now . The snakes have grabbed that spot and are trying to hide their coldly beating hearts there . Kino pulled the covers up , shut his eyes , and covered his ears with his hands . I 'm not going to look , not going to listen , he told himself . But he couldn 't drown out the sound . Even if he ran to the far corners of the earth and stuffed his ears full of clay , as long as he was still alive those knocks would relentlessly track him down . It wasn 't a knocking on a door in a business hotel . It was a knocking on the door to his heart . A person couldn 't escape that sound . He wasn 't sure how much time had passed , but he realized that the knocking had stopped . The room was as hushed as the far side of the moon . Still , Kino remained under the covers . He had to be on his guard . The being outside his door wouldn 't give up that easily . It was in no hurry . The moon wasn 't out . Only the withered constellations darkly dotted the sky . The world belonged , for a while longer , to those other beings . They had many different methods . They could get what they wanted in all kinds of ways . The roots of darkness could spread everywhere beneath the earth . Patiently taking their time , searching out weak points , they could break apart the most solid rock . Finally , as Kino had expected , the knocks began once more . But this time they came from another direction . Much closer than before . Whoever was knocking was right outside the window by his bed . Clinging to the sheer wall of the building , eight stories up , tap - tap - tapping on the rain - streaked glass . The curtain was open . Before he fell asleep , he 'd been watching the patterns the raindrops formed on the glass . Kino could imagine what he 'd see now , if he stuck his head outside the covers . No - he couldn 't imagine it . He had to extinguish the ability to imagine anything . I shouldn 't look at it , he told himself . No matter how empty it may be , this is still my heart . There 's still some human warmth in it . Memories , like seaweed wrapped around pilings on the beach , wordlessly waiting for high tide . Emotions that , if cut , would bleed . I can 't just let them wander somewhere beyond my understanding . " Memories can be helpful , " Kamita had said . A sudden thought struck Kino : that Kamita was somehow connected with the old willow tree in front of his house . He didn 't grasp how this made sense , exactly , but once the thought took hold of him things fell into place . Kino pictured the limbs of the tree , covered in green , sagging heavily down , nearly to the ground . In the summer , they provided cool shade to the yard . On rainy days , gold droplets glistened on their soft branches . On windy days , they swayed like a restless heart , and tiny birds flew over , screeching at one another , alighting neatly on the thin , supple branches only to take off again . Under the covers , Kino curled up like a worm , shut his eyes tight , and thought of the willow . One by one , he pictured its qualities - its color and shape and movements . And he prayed for dawn to come . All he could do was wait like this , patiently , until it grew light out and the birds awoke and began their day . All he could do was trust in the birds , in all the birds , with their wings and beaks . Until then , he couldn 't let his heart go blank . That void , the vacuum created by it , would draw them in . When the willow tree wasn 't enough , Kino thought of the slim gray cat , and its fondness for grilled seaweed . He remembered Kamita at the counter , lost in a book , young runners going through gruelling repetition drills on a track , the lovely Ben Webster solo on " My Romance . " He remembered his wife in her new blue dress , her hair trimmed short . He hoped that she was living a healthy , happy life in her new home . Without , he hoped , any wounds on her body . She apologized right to my face , and I accepted that , he thought . I need to learn not just to forget but to forgive . But the movement of time seemed not to be fixed properly . The bloody weight of desire and the rusty anchor of remorse were blocking its normal flow . The continuing rain , the confused hands of the clock , the birds still fast asleep , a faceless postal worker silently sorting through postcards , his wife 's lovely breasts bouncing violently in the air , something obstinately tapping on the window . As if luring him deeper into a suggestive maze , this ever - regular beat . Tap tap , tap tap , then once more - tap tap . " Don 't look away , look right at it , " someone whispered in his ear . " This is what your heart looks like . " The willow branches swayed in the early - summer breeze . In a small dark room , somewhere inside Kino , a warm hand was reaching out to him . Eyes shut , he felt that hand on his , soft and substantial . He 'd forgotten this , had been apart from it for far too long . Yes , I am hurt . Very , very deeply . He said this to himself . And he wept .