Koji Suzuki

In the glass an ice cube cracked. As if spurred by the sound, without stopping to think, Tomoko spun around.

ow's the time to turn back, they seemed to be telling him, leering.

Now's the time to turn back, they seemed to be telling him, leering.

Those who have viewed these images are fated to die at this exact hour one week from now. If you do not wish to die, you must follow these instructions exactly. ..

"It's not for real, right? Right?"

Asakawa couldn't respond. He merely shook his head. Then he was filled with tenderness for the ones who now shared his fate.

No matter how easy a job was physically, if it didn't involve any imagination, it usually ended up exhausting you.

As always, he'd felt a tiny hand grasping at his shin. Every time he had the dream, he felt on his feet the touch of that little hand, those anemone-like fingers slipping away to vanish into the depths of the ocean. There was absolutely nothing he could do to prevent it, and it tortured him. He stretched out his arms, sure that he should be able to reach the body, but he just couldn't get a grip on it. It eluded his grasp every time, leaving behind only a few soft, fine strands of hair.

The mother was Shizu Asakawa, age thirty, and the daughter was Yoko, only eighteen months old.

The cab jostled up and down until it was straddling the tracks. At the same time, Mai's body was bobbing up and down in Ando's mind.

She didn't want them to apologize. She wanted them to learn and grow from the experience. She wanted to see a man turn embarrassment into energy and engage in a genuine struggle toward maturity.