I headed away from the Tower, treading through the grass and then along a path lined with plane trees. Small canals flanked the path on either side, their waters sparkling in the sunlight. I was swept away by the fantastic beauty of my surroundings, and I wanted to spit on myself for that shameful capitulation to sentimentality. I longed for Mizuo to be with me to share this gorgeous view, and I consequently wished to spit on myself all the more. I spat and spat, sending specks of saliva flying in all directions until my throat was as dry as a husk.
A thought occurred, and I peered into the surrounding forest. What if she was nearby, slinking among the trees like a cat? My cursory search yielded no trace, but I resolved that if I did find her, I would warn her about Endou and his unusual habit of following her with a video camera in hand. I’d inform her that the man was bent on surreptitiously filming her in her most secretive moments—and that he’d now gone so far as to invade her dreams. And while I was at it, I’d point out that he was a fool, a nitwit, a coward, and a liar.
I continued along the path in the direction of the National Museum of Ethnology. When I reached the building, I found it dead silent. It seemed Mizuo was not here, either.
In fact, when I stepped inside, I found the vast museum entirely free from patrons and staff. The only sounds were the echoes of my shoes against the hard floors.
I walked the mazelike network of halls and exhibit rooms, gazing at the replica of the moai that had so excited me as a child and taking in the sculptures from all over Africa. I had never imagined I would have such an opportunity. Here I was, the entire museum to myself. For a brief time, I was elated, and all thoughts of Mizuo slipped from my mind.
I wandered, calm and relaxed, eventually finding myself alongside the great curved wall that lines the museum’s brightly lit patio. The wall’s construction—dozens of glass panes fitted into a supporting latticework—afforded a clear view of the whitish, Escherian space. The tops of the far three walls were painted black, as if to emphasize the perfect blue square of sky above. A large Aztec sculpture dominated the center of the courtyard. Next to it was a small white table with two chairs. In one sat Endou, busily scribbling away in his notebook, naught but a tiny presence in the vast courtyard.
The glass door leading out was half ajar. I ducked through and casually ambled into the open-air space. My steps interrupted the pervasive silence, and Endou looked up in surprise, hurriedly snapping his notebook shut.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“I could ask you the same.”
“You shouldn’t be snooping around a place like this. It’s not right.”
“Again, I think that’s my line.”
I looked up and away, squinting at the bright-blue sky.
“So. What are you up to?” I asked.
“That’s none of your business!”
A black bag lay open at his feet, exposing an assortment of filming equipment. Clearly, the reprobate was attempting to capture additional nonconsensual footage of Mizuo. I’d have thought he knew better by now. The man already deserved a slow, painful death on account of his stalking. Now he was doubling down on his crimes, taking his illicit photography to new depths.
I fumed. I was this close to tackling him. I imagined binding him up in ropes using the tortoiseshell pattern, after which I’d leave him to roll helplessly about the courtyard. However, I lack the knowledge to tie such knots.
After a moment, his defiant eyes faltered, and his shoulders slumped.
“I guess this means you found out about the station.”
“Quite by coincidence, really.”
I sat myself in the table’s other chair and inquired, “Where is she?”
“Beats me. But she has to be around here somewhere.”
I sensed he was telling the truth. He really didn’t know where to find her.
“Tell me,” I said, “how is it that you can stalk her so relentlessly, all the way into her dreams, yet you can’t muster the courage to tell her how you feel? It’s pathetic.”
“Leave me alone. I’ve got my own way of doing things.”
I felt the faintest stirrings of pity for him.
“Look,” I said. “I’ll stop with the insults. Just please, for your own sake, cut this out. The longer you spend scurrying about like a little mouse, the farther off the path you’ll stray.”
“Why should I take your advice? She dumped you!”
“Oh, and you’re a shining example of gallantry, are you?”
Endou swallowed visibly. “Fine. Point taken.”
He began rooting around in his bag and pulled out a small thermos. He opened it and poured some of that same delicious coffee from before into a cup, which he then proffered to me. I’d just been thinking that my throat felt a bit parched, so I accepted gratefully.
“Maybe you could clear something up for me,” he said. “There are tons of maneki-neko in this place. I see them everywhere. Do you know what that’s about?”
I sipped casually at my coffee, feigning ignorance. “No. I haven’t the slightest idea. She’s a woman of many mysteries, isn’t she?”
We both fell silent, and for a while, we sat with heads tilted back, absentmindedly staring at the sky. The season here seemed to be spring.
I’ve already written of how strange it felt to sit in Endou’s lodgings, engaged in relatively civil conversation. The absurdity of our present circumstances eclipsed that earlier encounter by an order of magnitude. Here we were inside Mizuo’s dreamworld, two intruding strangers with the star of the show nowhere to be found. Endou and I sat scowling on opposite sides of the small courtyard table. The cost-benefit ratio of this interaction was absolutely dismal. It brought new meaning to the word pointless.
Suddenly, it dawned on me that I hadn’t actually seen Mizuo in quite some time—not even a quick glimpse from behind as she went about her day. Instead, I kept running into Endou. That fact should have aroused my ire, but I realized I was, in a way, beginning to enjoy the absurdity of the situation.
“So tell me,” I said, “have you gotten anything out of traipsing around her dreams?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I still don’t understand the first thing about her.”
At that, we both laughed.
“You’re hopeless, you know that?”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. It’s so strange.” He scrunched up his face as he stared back toward the sky.
“You’re a regular reprobate.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“Heh.”
“Just to be clear,” he said, “I’m actually a pretty normal guy. But the more time I spend in her orbit, the more twisted up I get. At some point, I started wandering around in circles, completely lost, and then I found myself here, in this surreal forest.”
“You’ve been mulling over your feelings for so long that they’ve gone rotten.”
“You think so, too? I was worried that might be the case.”
“It’s not too late, though. You’ve still got a shot.”
“I kinda doubt that.” Endou gave a pained smile and poured more coffee from the thermos.
“I’m serious. You can still salvage this. You just have to take action.”
The two of us finished off the coffee and stared at the sky a bit longer. There was still no sign of Mizuo. The only sounds in the courtyard were the gentle ins and outs of our breathing.
I stood and stretched. “Well, we ought to head back. We can’t stay here forever.”
Endou decisively rose to his feet with me. “Yes. You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”