Description
This is a tender, bittersweet story about Toru Watanabe, a man who looks back on his youth in 1960s Tokyo. When he hears the Beatles’ song “Norwegian Wood” years later, it brings back a rush of memories from when he was nineteen. Those years were shaped by deep friendships, heartbreak, and the confusing path from adolescence to adulthood.
As a teenager in Kobe, Toru had two closest companions: his best friend Kizuki and Kizuki’s girlfriend Naoko. The three were inseparable until tragedy struck—Kizuki ended his own life without warning. This loss bound Toru and Naoko together in grief. They developed a quiet, intimate connection, often walking through Tokyo, speaking in half-finished thoughts, and sharing silences that felt heavier than words. Naoko once told Toru about a hidden well in a meadow, a chilling image of unseen emotional danger that lingered in his mind.
On Naoko’s twentieth birthday, their closeness deepened physically, but the night left her unsettled. Soon after, she withdrew from university life and went to live in a mountain sanatorium, a quiet place meant to help her heal. Toru remained in Tokyo, starting college, sharing a dorm with an odd, overly tidy roommate, and forming a friendship with Nagasawa, a confident upper-class student who lived for nightlife and fleeting pleasures. Nagasawa’s world was exciting but hollow to Toru, whose thoughts often drifted back to Naoko.
Life shifted again when Toru met Midori, a lively classmate full of warmth and energy. She was everything Naoko was not—bold, outspoken, and present in the moment. Their friendship grew quickly, and Midori’s openness made Toru feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt since before Kizuki’s death. But this also deepened his inner conflict. He cared for Naoko deeply, yet felt a pull toward Midori’s vibrant world.
Toru began visiting Naoko at the sanatorium, where he also met Reiko, Naoko’s roommate and close friend. Reiko, once a piano teacher, had faced her own struggles and found a fragile peace in the mountains. She shared stories of her past, and her insights helped Toru understand Naoko’s pain more clearly. Still, each visit left him uneasy. Naoko seemed calmer in the sanatorium, but her sadness was never far away.
While Toru’s time with Naoko was quiet and reflective, his moments with Midori were spontaneous and light-filled. One evening, Midori kissed him as they watched a house fire from her balcony, a small but powerful moment that made Toru question what he truly wanted. Midori, honest as always, challenged him to choose a direction for his heart.
Toru’s struggle reached its breaking point when Naoko’s mental state worsened. One day, the news arrived—Naoko had taken her own life. The loss shattered Toru. Overwhelmed by grief, he wandered aimlessly for a month, lost in thought and unable to anchor himself in the world.
When he returned, Reiko visited Tokyo to say goodbye before starting a new chapter in her life. Together, they held a small private remembrance for Naoko, playing music, talking late into the night, and sharing a moment of unexpected intimacy. This act was less about romance and more about two people seeking comfort in their shared pain.
After Reiko left, Toru began to reconnect with Midori. She remained patient but wanted clarity. Toru realized he was standing at the edge of a new beginning, but he still carried the weight of the past. In a final moment of the story, Toru reached out to Midori by phone—his voice filled with both uncertainty and the desire to move forward.
This is a story about the way love can both heal and hurt, how memories can hold us back, and how loss can change the shape of a life forever. It shows that growing up is not simply about age, but about learning to live with the spaces left behind by people we love. Toru’s journey is one of grief, choice, and quiet hope—a search for light while walking through the shadowed woods of memory.
