Ivan Lizarde

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Still no words came to him. Tsukuru silently followed her gaze to the surface of the lake. It was only later, after he boarded the direct flight back to Narita and had buckled his seat belt, that the words came, the words he should have said. The right words always seemed to come too late.
Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage
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