"I had a habit of standing at my window, looking out, and so did Nakajima, so we noticed each other, and before long we started exchanging nods. I guess it must have been pretty rare in a busy city like Tokyo for two people in two windows to nod to each other when their eyes met, but where I come from, out in the boonies, that was the most natural thing in the world, and Nakajima isn't the sort of person to bother about such things. There's a tenacity in him that's beyond all that. The intensity of a person unafraid of death, at the end of his rope.
Maybe that's how I knew we would get along.
That and the lankiness of his silhouette against the window, and the fact that it made such a perfect picture. Sometimes he let his scrawny arm dangle down over the sill, and I thought he looked wonderful when he did that, like a wild monkey.
As time passed, I started opening my window when I woke up in the morning and glancing over at Nakajima's. I didn't care whether I had gotten dressed, or what state my hair was in or anything-it didn't matter. I felt close to him, and I'd come to regard him as just another part of the scenery. For some reason I was convinced our paths would never actually cross.
Even if I didn't see Nakajima, I'd see his carefully hung-out laundry (he hung it so neatly it was practically an art form. I bet he could have worn his clothes straight off the line, without even ironing them. Compared to him, I was so slovenly I might as well have just bunched mine up and tossed them on the veranda), and every so often I'd see a woman who was clearly older than Nakajima lounging around near the windows, and I'd think Ah, his girlfriend spent the night. Good for him.
Little by little, an inch at a time, the distance between us narrowed.
I always like to be near the window, no matter how cold it gets, so even during the winter, he and I were constantly waving to each other.
"How are you today?" I'd say.
"I'm okay!" I couldn't hear his voice, but I could read his lips.
And he would smile.
It was as if living where we did had imposed a special destiny on us, giving us feelings that no one else could share. Day after day, we always kept an eye on each other's windows, and so it felt almost as if we were living together. When Nakajima's lights went out, I'd start to think that maybe it was time for me to hit the sack, too, and whenever I came back after a trip home and opened my window, Nakajima would lean out his and shout, "Welcome back!"
Neither of us realized what was happening. That simply by keeping an eye on each other, without even giving it any thought, just by noticing the sound of a certain window sliding open, we were already starting to fall in love."
-Banana Yoshimoto, The Lake (Mizuumi)
++++
I don't know how people can write lovely stories like this. I fell in love with it the moment I read the first sentence. It was lovely in its simplicity and genuinely heartfelt. My eyes would tear up and my throat would get tight on the simplest sentiments.
If all of Banana Yoshimoto's books are this amazing, then I've found myself a treasure.
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