His friends were probably right when they called it a pitiful little vacant house. He wondered if that had anything to do with the emptiness of his own world.
If I were an amoeba, he thought, with an infinitesimal body, I could defeat ugliness. A man isn’t tiny or giant enough to defeat anything.
“If this is ever destroyed, it’ll mean the end of the world,” Noboru murmured, barely conscious. I guess I’d do anything to stop that, no matter how awful!
Tales of women, anecdotes from shore, the endless boasting . . . he hated the lowbrow chatter meant to sweeten loneliness, the ritual of affirming ties with the brotherhood of men.
Whereas most men choose to become sailors because they like the sea, Ryuji had been guided by an antipathy to land.
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