The Aosawa Murders

by Riku Onda

Fear is a spice that lends credibility. Just the right amount sprinkled in any story makes it plausible.

Non-fiction? I’m not keen on the word. No matter how much a writer tries to adhere to the truth, the notion of non-fiction is an illusion. All that can exist is fiction visible to the eye. And what is visible can also lie.

This section of the garden is for cherry trees, but you’d never know at this time of year. That’s the odd thing about cherry trees. Other trees keep their identity all year round. It’s easy to tell whether they’re a ginkgo, or camellia, or maple, or willow. Only cherry trees seem to become inconspicuous. When not in bloom, they’re just nameless trees. Everybody remembers where they are only when the blossom season arrives. Otherwise, they’re forgotten. At

After all, the truth is nothing more than a subject seen from a certain perspective. I understand that.

When someone devotes all that time to you for their own pleasure, all it does is make you wary.

Men are particularly at risk. They’re so used to having their mothers do everything for them, they’re under the illusion drinks appear whenever they want – just like that. They don’t realize that every single thing that goes into their mouths has been handled by any number of nameless people first.

Yeah, I bet you’re wondering why I got married in the first place. I think because everybody else was getting hitched too. I had this idea that I should try it once. And my married friends seemed to be having a good enough time. When all your buddies are doing it you start to panic about being left behind, don’t you?

There are two kinds of people in this world, I believe, those who frequent bookshops and those who do not.

If my life were a book, the thickest section, the one with the most dog-eared pages, would be the one about that case. The spine would be bent from being opened to those pages so often. And the book would always fall open to that place. That’s how I see it.

When you think about it, the world is connected by the sea. It literally connects me to the place she is now.

I think I told you once I’ve never felt comfortable in my skin. It’s like there’s an outer me that’s the container, and another me on the inside, and the two don’t fit together at all.