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rearview mirror. You must be tired, I added, but he shook his head.
    “Not at all. Not at all!”
    “You know, Sensei, it’s not too late to turn back.”
    “‘Turn back’? How do you mean?”
    “Well . . . ”

    “Let’s go along with this together. No matter where.”
    “What?”
    Was Sensei having a bit of fun? I stole a glance at his face but his expression was the same as always. Calm and reassured. He was sitting up straight, his briefcase lying next to him on the seat. While I puzzled over this, Satoru came down the hill with another person in tow.
    The other man was a perfect double of Satoru. The two of them opened the trunk and hurriedly carried the packages up the hill. Just as I thought they were out of sight, they returned, both of them stopping beside the car to puff on cigarettes.
    “G’morning!” Satoru’s double said as he got into the passenger seat.
    “This is my cousin Toru,” Satoru introduced him. Toru looked just like him, in every way. His face, his expression, his build, even the air about him—they were exactly alike.
    “So, Toru, I hear that you enjoy Sawanoi saké,” Sensei said. With his seatbelt fastened, Toru twisted himself around to face the back. “That’s right, I sure do!” he replied cheerfully.
    “But saké from Tochigi is still better,” Satoru added, turning around at the same angle as Toru. The car had started up the mountain road. Just as Sensei and I each let out a cry, the front end of the car scraped up against the guardrail.
    “Idiot,” Toru muttered nonchalantly. Satoru smiled as he turned the steering wheel. Sensei and I let out another sigh. I could hear muffled birdsong from the forest.
     
     
    “SENSEI, ARE YOU going to hike in those clothes?”
    We had driven for another thirty minutes or so after Toru joined us, then Satoru had stopped the car and turned off the engine. Satoru, Toru, and I were all wearing jeans and sneakers. We got out of the car, and the two of them started bending their knees and stretching
their legs. I followed their lead. Only Sensei stood still, completely upright. He wore a tweed suit with leather shoes. His suit looked old but well-tailored.
    “You’ll get dirty,” Toru continued.
    “It does not matter if I get dirty,” Sensei replied, shifting his briefcase from his right hand to his left hand.
    “Would you like to leave your briefcase?” Satoru asked.
    “That won’t be necessary,” Sensei replied imperturbably.
    Without further ado, we started to climb the wooded path. Satoru and Toru both wore similar rucksacks on their backs. Theirs were climbing daypacks, about one size larger than the one I was carrying. Toru led the way, and Satoru brought up the rear.
    “The ascent is surprisingly tough going,” Satoru said from behind.
    “Uh . . . Yes, it is,” I said, as Toru said from ahead in the exact same voice, “Easy, just take your time.”
    Every so often I could hear a sound like ta-ra-ra-ra-ra, ta-ra-ra-ra-ra . Sensei kept a steady pace as he climbed along the path. He wasn’t particularly out of breath. I, on the other hand, was considerably winded. The ta-ra-ra-ra-ra, ta-ra-ra-ra-ra became more insistent.
    “Is that a cuckoo?” Sensei asked.
    Toru turned around to reply. “No, actually, that’s a woodpecker. Sensei, you must know a lot about birds to recognize a cuckoo’s call.”
    He went on, “That’s the sound the woodpecker makes when he pecks at a tree trunk, looking for insects to eat.”
    “He makes quite a racket,” Satoru said from behind, laughing.
    The path grew steeper and steeper. It was about as narrow as an animal trail. Autumn grasses had grown thick on either side, and they brushed against our faces and hands as we walked along. At the foot of the mountain, the fall foliage had yet to change but up here most of the leaves were tinged red or yellow. The air was cool and pleasant, but I had broken into a sweat, due to the fact that I never exercised. Sensei, however, appeared