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been unable to drink. He had the feeling that if he took one swallow he wouldn't be able to stop until he was falling-down drunk. He was afraid he'd be unable to control an impulse to die should it arise. He didn't have the courage to go there.
    It was raining, rare for late October. It was a misty rain, wafting underneath his umbrella like smoke, wetting his neck. He didn't feel cold. A faint glow from the sake warmed his body. As he walked back to his apartment, he kept sticking his hand out from beneath the umbrella to see if he could catch raindrops on his palm, but it didn't work. The rain seemed to be coming not down from the sky, but up from below.
    On his way down the road from the station, he wavered in front of a convenience store, thinking to buy a bottle of whiskey. Brightly lit skyscrapers towered over him. The cityscape was more beautiful than any natural landscape. The government edifices, all lit up, glowed cannily in the rain. He stared at the flashing red light at the very top of a building until it began to seem like a message in Morse code. It flashed on and off, slowly, like some thickheaded, barely articulate monster.
    Ever since he'd separated from his wife he'd been living in a dilapidated four-story apartment building facing Yoyogi Park. It was definitely a step down from the South Aoyama condo he'd lived in before. There was no parking, so he'd had to give up his brand-new BMW. In his miserable little studio apartment he felt like he was a student again. There was nothing in the place to suggest that he cared about how he lived. The only furniture was a bookcase and an aluminum bed.
    He went inside and walked over to the window to open it. The phone rang.
    "Hello?"
    "It's me."
    He recognized the speaker immediately. There was only one person who'd start a conversation with him like that, without bothering to identify himself: Miyashita, another classmate from his med school days. Miyashita was currently an Assistant Researcher in Pathology.
    "Sorry not to call earlier." Ando knew why Miyashita had called, so he apologized before he could be reproached.
    "I was at your lab today."
    "I was at the M.E.'s office."
    "Must be nice having two paying jobs."
    "What are you talking about? Your job's tenure track."
    "Never mind that. You haven't RSVP'd about Funakoshi's farewell party."
    Funakoshi, over at Internal Medicine, was leaving to take over his father's clinic back home, the old man was retiring. Miyashita had taken it upon himself to organize a send-off for him. He'd already told Ando the time and place, and Ando was supposed to get back to him right away to tell him whether or not he'd be attending. He had gotten wrapped up in other things and forgotten. If his son hadn't died, Ando would probably have been the one getting the big send-off. His stint in forensics was only supposed to be temporary, a stepping-stone. He'd planned to get the basics down pat, then switch to clinical work in preparation for taking over his wife's father's clinic… One moment of carelessness, and the whole blueprint had been ruined.
    "When is it again?" Ando wedged the receiver in between his ear and his shoulder as he flipped through the pages of his planner.
    "Next Friday."
    "Friday, huh?" He didn't need to check his schedule. Only three hours ago, as he and Mai had parted, they'd made a dinner date for that evening. Six o'clock next Friday. It was clear which commitment should take priority. For the first time in ten years, he'd asked a young woman out to dinner, and somehow, she hadn't bolted. There was no way he was going to send things back to square one. Ando felt the date could be the moment of truth as to whether or not he was ever going to wake up from his long nightmare.
    "So how about it?" Miyashita nagged.
    "Sorry, but I can't make it. Prior engagement."
    "Really? You sure this isn't the same old thing?"
    The same old thing? Ando didn't know what that meant. He couldn't remember if he used any excuse