All the Lovers in the Night

by Mieko Kawakami

The red light at the intersection, trembling as if wet, even though it isn’t raining.

It’s like the night is breathing. Like the sound of melted light.

The light at night is special because the overwhelming light of day has left us, and the remaining half draws on everything it has to keep the world around us bright.

It isn’t anything, but it’s so beautiful th...

“Sometimes you can be okay with something, then the next day comes and it’s a totally different story.”

I feel sort of stupid saying I was tired of dealing with people, but when it comes down to it, I guess there’s no other way to put it.

From a young age, I couldn’t bring myself to contribute to conversations like a normal person, much less socialize or go out with people, and I was never able to acclimate to the particular atmosphere of that little office.

Apparently offended by what she saw in me as the self-absorption of a single woman who did nothing with her life but work, she reminded me at length, sighing periodically, of how much effort it required her to keep her life afloat, and how easy things were for people like me.

Not that she didn’t have her fair share of wrinkles, normal for her age, but all the same, she had a certain liveliness about her.

A unique aura surrounded her, something like a special layer of light that gave her a brightness greater than the space around her.

I remember feeling an excitement I was unable to understand, something about the way she unleashed provocative expressions so effectively, the confidence of her delivery and the way she made her point, how she maintained composure, in those moments where the man raised his voice defensively, as she looked around and smiled.

When I asked what part of me she thought was fun, she would simply say, “Part? Everything about you,” then laugh again with delight, not giving me a real answer.

I lacked the confidence to speak well.

I asked myself what was so special about the place, aside from it being somewhere I could go to every day.

The sharp pain building in my temples.

I didn’t mean to, but unsure what kind of face I should be making, I started laughing, in an odd way that betrayed the fact that I was used to living my life in a daze, without giving anything much thought.

One side depends on the other. That’s not a partnership. And that’s why relationships based on reliance are pretty unstable.

“And once I trust somebody, that trust never fades.”

You can make people believe whatever you want. You can fool them like it’s nothing. But you can’t fool yourself, not really.

When a group of older ladies seated nearby burst out laughing, we both jumped in our seats, then caught each other smiling.

Once I repeated this a few times, a freshness I was sure I’d never known before spread slowly through my lungs, and I was filled with an awareness of the soft places inside me, spreading outward by degrees.

With every step I took, a veil of darkness came down over all I saw.

Everybody in this life has something they have to put up with.

I’m not sure what gave me the idea, but as I sat there, watching yet another uneventful birthday coming to an end, I had the sudden desire to go out and walk around.

The layers and layers of clouds, not exactly white or gray, hung in the night sky like the outline of some kind of creature, enormous and moving without a sound, a sight that made my heart race.

Hands in my jacket pockets, I started walking down the street, not another person in sight, but for some reason, it lifted my mood.

That night, everything was thrown into oddly sharp relief, as if the pieces of the world before my eyes were...

It crossed my mind that I would probably never notice if the previous six months and the six months to follow had been switched around.

You should come out, even if it is too much trouble. You gotta get out sometimes.

I was feeling too nervous to look at her while I spoke, so I sort of looked around the room.

Hijiri gave me a big smile, looking genuinely happy. It felt softer than her usual smile.

We get this all the time as women, right? Like, if you make plenty of money but don’t have any kids, you might get called successful. But unless you have kids, no one will ever call you a great woman.

They act like they’re all big, ready to share their happiness with everyone, when the only happiness they care about is their own.

I mean, when someone says something stupid, don’t you want to tell them how stupid they sound?

It’s more like . . . I don’t want to rely on anything, no matter what it is.

They’re all so sure that they’re the ones who have seen the light, and it’s the only identity they’ve got, so they can’t keep their mouths shut.

It’s always the common people who end up as the victims, the people hoping against hope.

Even though it was dark, the ambient lighting defined the contours of her plump, shapely lips, which looked so full of life that they could have hopped off her face and walked around at any moment.

At this point in life, I know better than to expect anything from men.

“It’s not like I want people to hate me. I’m just not about to go out of my way to make them like me, either. Being liked is wonderful and all, but that’s not what life is about, you know?”

Anyway, who cares what’s fashionable? How can anybody go through life thinking about crap like that?

I never knew what kind of face to make when she stared at me like that.

I understood what she was asking, but I couldn’t think of a single thing about me that would be worth sharing.

I stroked the tips of my fingers, where Hijiri had squeezed them, as I turned around and watched her getting smaller and smaller.

Focusing harder only made the text before my eyes break apart and spill across the page like it was running away, so that I had to grab each piece and pin it back to its proper place.

My back and hips, so stiff that I was certain they would crack in half if I so much as moved, eventually relaxed, and when I tested out my neck, in awe of what hot water can do, I found a softness that had not been there before.

I felt the root of my tongue in the back of my throat go tense and the contents of my stomach travel upward.

My heart was burdened by a leaden darkness, but I took one breath after another, telling myself that this was my responsibility.

If only those parted lips would tell me something, I knew that I would listen to them, whatever they might have to say, but no matter how I waited, no words came from anywhere.

Whenever he smiled, two big wrinkles pushed the other ones aside, making his gentle face look even more relaxed, and I couldn’t help but smile too.