When autumn ended and cold winds began tearing through the city, Naoko would often walk pressed against my arm. вЂњHave you ever been in love?вЂќ Naoko asked. I donвЂ™t know, sometimes I think IвЂ™ve got this hard kernel in my heart, and nothing much can get inside it. вЂњShe was nice,вЂќ I said, вЂњI enjoyed sleeping with her, and I miss her every now and then, but finally, she didnвЂ™t move me. I told her about the one I had left behind in Kobe. Naoko asked me one time-just once-if I had a girl I liked. I went on supplying everyone with new stories. Besides, the sight of NaokoвЂ™s smiling face had become my own special source of pleasure. Who had the right to make fun of him for that?Д«y then, however, вЂњStorm Trooper jokesвЂќ had become an indispensable source of dormitory talk, and there was no way for me to undo what I had done. Making maps was the one small dream of his one small life. He just happened to be the youngest son in a not-too-wealthy family who had grown up a little too serious for his own good. Not many things succeeded in doing that, so I talked about him often, though I was not exactly proud of myself for using him this way. My stories of Storm Trooper always made Naoko laugh. вЂњBut whatвЂ™s the difference? TheyвЂ™re all nice pictures. вЂњWho-who-who the hell is doing this?вЂќ he asked. Each time the photo changed in his absence, Storm Trooper became upset. вЂњHe loved it,вЂќ I вЂњreportedвЂќ later, which prompted someone else to put up an iceberg. He told me he wanted to know if Storm Trooper could masturbate to the Golden Gate Bridge. In July, somebody in the dorm had taken down Storm TrooperвЂ™s Amsterdam canal scene and put up a photo of the Golden Gate Bridge instead. вЂњTell me, Wa-Wa-Watanabe, what do you talk about with gir-gir-girls?вЂќ I donвЂ™t remember how I answered him, but he had picked the wrong guy to ask. Once he had a date with a classmate (a girl in geography, of course) but came back in the early evening looking glum. Naoko liked to hear me tell stories about Storm Trooper. We could face each other over coffee cups in total silence. We continued to avoid any mention of the past and rarely mentioned Kizuki.

I canвЂ™t seem to recall what we talked about then. Having worn out one pair of shoes, I bought some new ones, of suede. The fragrance of a new season arrived when I put on my first sweater. Then came autumn, and the dormitory grounds were buried in zelkova leaves.

Norwegian wood ebook ita download