
Strange Weather in Tokyo: A Novel

“Let’s go along with this, together. No matter where.” “What?” Was Sensei having a bit of fun? I stole a glance at his face but his expression was the same as always. Calm and reassured. He was sitting up straight, his briefcase lying next to him on the seat. While I puzzled over this, Satoru came down the hill with another person in tow.
Hiromi Kawakami • Strange Weather in Tokyo: A Novel
While I contemplated these things, I became sleepy.
Hiromi Kawakami • Strange Weather in Tokyo: A Novel
Both Satoru and I fell silent. On the radio, a reporter was expounding on a theory about a random serial killing spree in another prefecture. “What kind of person . . . ?” Satoru said. “What is the world coming to?” I answered. Satoru listened carefully to the rest of the report and then said, “People have been wondering the same thing for over a t
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“Together?” “Yes, it had been a while since I’d visited.” A flock of seagulls hovered above the cemetery, their cries raising a commotion. I tried to ask, Why would you think to bring me here? But the seagulls were wild with excitement. My words were drowned out by their cries and Sensei didn’t hear me.
Hiromi Kawakami • Strange Weather in Tokyo: A Novel
Despite the fact that we had come on this trip together—even if it was only a two-day trip—I felt as if the person moving steadily away from me, Sensei, was a stranger.
Hiromi Kawakami • Strange Weather in Tokyo: A Novel
“These sunflower seeds are good,” I said, taking a couple more. Kojima was drinking his bourbon and soda at a leisurely pace. I took a small sip from the glass in front of me. A flawless martini. I set down my drink with a sigh. The glass was cold, its surface ever so slightly frosted over. “The rainy season is almost here,” Sensei said. Right, Sat
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“So, then, where are we?” I asked, for the umpteenth time. And still, Sensei did not reply.
Hiromi Kawakami • Strange Weather in Tokyo: A Novel
“So, you never married?” he asked me. No—I mean, I don’t know anything about prefab housing, I replied. Kojima laughed. We drained our cups of saké, petals and all. “Tsukiko, come here,” Sensei called. Ms. Ishino was beckoning me as well.
Hiromi Kawakami • Strange Weather in Tokyo: A Novel
“Tsukiko, would you like to go to an island with me next Saturday and Sunday?” Sensei had said out of the blue.