After the quake blind willow, sleeping woman dance dance dance



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I’m 
looking for Tengo, so I won’t miss the most trivial detail. Still, like Tamaru said, I 
only have one pair of eyes

“That’s about it from me,” he said. 
“How is the dowager?” Aomame asked. 
“She is well,” Tamaru replied. Then he added, “Though she seems kind of quiet 
these days.” 
“She never was one to talk much.” 
Tamaru gave a low growl in the back of his throat, as if his throat were equipped 
with an organ to express special emotions. “She is even quieter than usual.” 
Aomame pictured the dowager, alone on her chair, a large watering can at her feet, 
endlessly watching butterflies. Aomame knew very well how quietly the old lady 
breathed. 
“I will include a box of madeleines with the next supplies,” Tamaru said as he 
wound up the conversation. “That might have a positive effect on the flow of time.” 
“Thank you,” Aomame said. 
Aomame stood in the kitchen and made cocoa. Before going back outside to resume 
her watch, she needed to warm up. She boiled milk in a pan and dissolved cocoa 
powder in it. She poured this into an oversized cup and added a cap of whipped cream 
she had made ahead of time. She sat down at the dining table and slowly sipped her 


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cocoa as she reviewed her conversation with Tamaru. The man with the large, 
misshapen head is laying me out bare under a cold, harsh light. He’s a skilled 
professional, and dangerous. 
She put on the down jacket, wrapped the muffler around her, and, the cup of half-
drunk cocoa in hand, went out again to the balcony. She sat down on the garden chair 
and spread the blanket on her lap. The slide was deserted, as usual. But just then she 
spotted a child leaving the playground. It was strange for a child to be visiting the 
playground alone at this hour. A stocky child wearing a knit cap. She was looking at 
him from well above, through a gap in the screen on the balcony, and the child 
quickly cut across her field of vision and disappeared into the shadows of the 
building. His head seemed too big for a child, but it might just have been her 
imagination. 
It certainly wasn’t Tengo, so Aomame gave it no more thought and turned back to 
the slide. She sipped her cocoa, warming her hands with the cup, and watched one 
bank of clouds after another scud across the sky. 
Of course, it wasn’t a child that Aomame saw for a moment, but Ushikawa. If the 
light had been better, or if she had seen him a little longer, she would have noticed 
that his large head wasn’t that of a child. It would have dawned on her that that 
dwarfish, huge-headed person was none other than the man Tamaru had described. 
But Aomame had only glimpsed him for a few seconds, and at less than the ideal 
angle. Luckily, for the same reasons, Ushikawa hadn’t spotted Aomame out on the 
balcony. 
At this point, a number of “if”s came to mind. 
If
Tamaru had hung up a little 
earlier, 
if
Aomame hadn’t made cocoa while mulling over things, she would have 
seen Tengo, on top of the slide, gazing up at the sky. She would have raced out of the 
room, and they would have been reunited after twenty years. 
If that had happened, however, Ushikawa, who had been tailing Tengo, would 
have noticed that this was Aomame, would have figured out where she lived, and 
would have immediately informed the duo from Sakigake. 
So it’s hard to say if Aomame’s not seeing Tengo at this point was an unfortunate 
or fortunate occurrence. Either way, as he had done before, Tengo climbed up to the 
top of the slide and gazed steadily at the two moons floating in the sky and the clouds 
crossing in front. Ushikawa watched Tengo from the shadows. In the interim 
Aomame left the balcony, talked with Tamaru on the phone, and made her cocoa. In 
this way, twenty-five minutes elapsed. A fateful twenty-five minutes. By the time 
Aomame had put on her down jacket and returned to the balcony, Tengo had left the 
playground. Ushikawa didn’t immediately follow after him. Instead, he stayed at the 
playground, checking on something he needed to make sure of. When he had finished, 
he quickly left the playground. It was during those few seconds that Aomame spotted 
him from the balcony. 
The clouds were still racing across the sky, moving south, over Tokyo Bay and 
then out to the broad Pacific. After that, who knows what fate awaited them, just as no 
one knows what happens to the soul after death. 


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At any rate, the circle was drawing in tighter. But Tengo and Aomame weren’t 
aware that the circle around them was closing in. Ushikawa sensed what was 
happening, since he was actively taking steps to tighten it, but even he couldn’t see 
the big picture. He didn’t know the most important point: that the distance between 
him and Aomame was now no more than a couple dozen meters. And unusually for 
Ushikawa, when he left the playground his mind was incomprehensibly confused. 
By ten it was too cold to stay outside, so Aomame reluctantly got up and went back 
into the warm apartment. She undressed and climbed into a hot bath. As she soaked in 
the water, letting the heat take away the lingering cold, she rested a hand on her belly. 
She could feel the slight swelling there. She closed her eyes and tried to feel the 
little 
one
that was inside. There wasn’t much time left. Somehow she had to let Tengo 
know: that she was carrying his child. And that she would fight desperately to protect 
it. 
She dressed, got into bed, lay on her side in the dark, and fell asleep. Before she 
fell into a deep sleep she had a short dream about the dowager. 
Aomame is in the greenhouse at the Willow House as they watch butterflies together. 
The greenhouse is like a womb, dim and warm. The rubber tree she left behind in her 
old apartment is there. It has been well taken care of and is so green that she hardly 
recognizes it. A butterfly from a southern land that she has never seen before is 
resting on one of its thick leaves. The butterfly has folded its brightly colored wings 
and seems to be sleeping peacefully. Aomame is happy about this. 
In the dream her belly is hugely swollen. It seems near her due date. She can make 
out the heartbeat of the 
little one
. Her heartbeat and that of the 
little one
blend 
together into a pleasant, joint rhythm. 
The dowager is seated beside her, her back ramrod straight as always, her lips a 
straight line, quietly breathing. The two of them don’t talk, in order not to wake the 
sleeping butterfly. The dowager is detached, as if she doesn’t notice that Aomame is 
next to her. Aomame of course knows how closely the dowager protects her, but even 
so, she can’t shake a sense of unease. The dowager’s hands in her lap are too thin and 
fragile. Aomame’s hands unconsciously feel for the pistol, but can’t find it. 
She is swallowed up by the dream, yet at the same time aware it is a dream. 
Sometimes Aomame has those kinds of dreams, where she is in a distinct, vivid 
reality but knows it isn’t real. It is a detailed scene from a small planet somewhere 
else. 
In the dream, someone opens the door to the greenhouse. An ominous cold wind 
blows in. The large butterfly opens its eyes, spreads its wings, and flutters off, away 
from the rubber tree. Who is it? She twists her head to look in that direction. But 
before she can see who it is, the dream is over. 
She was sweating when she woke up, an unpleasant, clammy sweat. She stripped off 
her damp pajamas, dried herself with a towel, and put on a new T-shirt. She sat up in 


681
bed for a time. 
Something bad might be about to happen. Somebody might be trying to 
get the
little one. 
And whoever that is might be very close by
. She had to find Tengo—
there was not a moment to lose. But other than watching the playground every night, 
there wasn’t a thing she could do. Nothing other than what she was already doing—
carefully, patiently, dutifully, keeping her eyes open, trained on this one tiny section 
of the world, that single point at the top of the slide. Even with such focus, though, a 
person can overlook things. Because she only has one pair of eyes. 
Aomame wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. She lay down again in bed
rested her palms on her stomach, and quietly waited for sleep to overtake her. 


682

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