Previous chapter: Chapter 46
Next chapter: Chapter 48
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... that it was dawn.

The gradually brightening twilight seeped through the gap in the curtains.

Thousands of threads of light spilled into the air.

I woke up from my sleep at the sight of that radiance.

Murakami Haruki says he writes as soon as he wakes up in the morning. I wanted to be like him, so I tried imitating him, but all I managed to do was grope for the notebook I left by my bedside and jot down a few keywords that came to mind.

When I lived in the ...

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