After the quake blind willow, sleeping woman dance dance dance

willingness
to pay and cough up a little bit, the courts 
usually look the other way. Men still have the upper hand in Japanese society.” 
Aomame said, “Maybe so, but as luck would have it, one of those violent husbands 
suffered a heart attack in a Shibuya hotel room a few days ago.” 
“ ‘As luck would have it’ is a bit too direct for me,” Tamaru said with a click of the 
tongue. “I prefer ‘Due to heavenly dispensation.’ In any case, no doubts have been 
raised regarding the cause of death, and the amount of life insurance was not so high 
as to attract attention, so the insurance company won’t have any suspicions. They’ll 
probably pay without a hitch. Finally, it’s a decent amount of money, enough for her 
to begin a new life. Plus she’ll be saving all the time and money that would have been 
eaten up by suing for divorce. When it’s over, she will have avoided all the 
complicated, meaningless legal procedures and all the subsequent mental anguish.” 
“Not to mention that that scummy bastard won’t be set loose on some new victim.” 
“Heavenly dispensation,” Tamaru said. “Everything’s settled nicely thanks to one 
heart attack. All’s well that ends well.” 
“Assuming there’s an end somewhere,” Aomame said. 
Tamaru formed some short creases near his mouth that were faintly reminiscent of 
a smile. “There has to be an end somewhere. It’s just that nothing’s labeled ‘This is 
the end.’ Is the top rung of a ladder labeled ‘This is the last rung. Please don’t step 
higher than this’?” 
Aomame shook her head. 
“It’s the same thing,” Tamaru said. 
Aomame said, “If you use your common sense and keep your eyes open, it 
becomes clear enough where the end is.” 
Tamaru nodded. “And even if it doesn’t”—he made a falling gesture with his 
finger “—the end is right there.” 

---

83
They were both quiet for a while as they listened to the birds singing. It was a calm 
April afternoon without a hint of ill will or violence. 
“How many women are living here now?” Aomame asked. 
“Four,” Tamaru answered, without hesitation. 
“All in the same kind of situation?” 
“More or less.” Tamaru pursed his lips. “But the other three cases are not as 
serious as hers. Their men are all nasty bastards, as usual, but none are as bad as the 
character we’ve been talking about. These guys are lightweights who like to come on 
strong, not worth bothering you about. We can take care of them ourselves.” 
“Legally.” 
“Pretty much—even if we have to lean on them a little. Of course, a heart attack is 
an entirely ‘legal’ cause of death.” 
“Of course,” Aomame chimed in. 
Tamaru went silent for a while, resting his hands on his knees and looking at the 
silent branches of the willow trees. 
After some hesitation, Aomame decided to broach something with Tamaru. “You 
know,” she said, “there’s something I’d like you to tell me.” 
“What’s that?” 
“How many years ago did the police get new uniforms and guns?” 
Tamaru wrinkled his brow almost imperceptibly. “Where did 
that
come from all of 
a sudden?” 
“Nowhere special. It just popped into my head.” 
Tamaru looked her in the eye. His own eyes were entirely neutral, free of 
expression. He was leaving himself room to go in any direction with this. 
“That big shootout near Lake Motosu between the Yamanashi Prefectural Police 
and the radical group took place in mid-October of 1981, and the police had their 
major reorganization the following year. Two years ago.” 
Aomame nodded without changing her expression. She had absolutely no 
recollection of such an event, but all she could do now was play along with him. 
“It was really bloody. Old-fashioned six-shooters against five Kalashnikov AK-
47s. The cops were totally outgunned. Poor guys: three of them were torn up pretty 
badly. They looked as if they’d been stitched on a sewing machine. The Self-Defense 
Force got involved right away, sending in their special paratroopers. The cops totally 
lost face. Prime Minister Nakasone immediately got serious about strengthening 
police power. There was an overall restructuring, a special weapons force was 
instituted, and ordinary patrolmen were given high-powered automatic pistols to 
carry—Beretta Model 92s. Ever fired one?” 
Aomame shook her head. Far from it. She had never even fired an air rifle. 
“I have,” Tamaru said. “A fifteen-shot automatic. It uses 9mm Parabellum rounds. 
It’s one of 
the
great pistols. The U.S. Army uses it. It’s not cheap, but its selling point 
is that it’s not as expensive as a SIG or a Glock. It’s not an easy gun to use, though, is 
definitely not for amateurs. The old revolvers only weighed 490 grams, but these 
weigh 850. They’re useless in the hands of an untrained Japanese policeman. Fire a 
high-powered gun like that in a crowded country like Japan, and you end up hurting 
innocent bystanders.” 
“Where did you ever fire such a thing?” 

---

84
“You know, the usual story. Once upon a time I was playing my harp by a spring 
when a fairy appeared out of nowhere, handed me a Beretta Model 92, and told me to 
shoot the white rabbit over there for target practice.” 
“Get serious.” 
The creases by Tamaru’s mouth deepened slightly. “I’m always serious,” he said. 
“In any case, the cops’ official guns and uniforms changed two years ago. In the 
spring. Just about this time of year. Does that answer your question?” 
“Two years ago,” Aomame said. 
Tamaru gave her another sharp look. “You know, if something’s bothering you, 
you’d better tell me. Are the cops involved in something?” 
“No, that’s not it,” Aomame said, waving off his suspicions with both hands. “I 
was just wondering about their uniforms, like, when they changed.” 
A period of silence followed, bringing the conversation to a natural end. Tamaru 
thrust out his right hand again. “Anyhow, I’m glad it all came off without a hitch.” 
Aomame took his hand in hers. 
He understands
, she told herself. 
After a tough job 
where your life is on the line, what you need is the warm, quiet encouragement that 
accompanies the touch of human flesh
. 
“Take a break,” Tamaru said. “Sometimes you need to stop, take a deep breath, 
and empty your head. Go to Guam or someplace with a boyfriend.” 
Aomame stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder, and adjusted the hood of her 
parka. Tamaru also got to his feet. He was by no means tall, but when he stood up it 
looked as if a stone wall had suddenly materialized. His solidity always took her by 
surprise. 
Tamaru kept his eyes fixed on her back as she walked away. She could feel him 
looking at her the whole time. And so she kept her chin pulled in, her back straight, 
and walked with firm steps as if following a perfectly straight line. But inside, where 
she could not be seen, she was confused. In places of which she was totally unaware, 
things about which she was totally unaware were happening one after another. Until a 
short time before, she had had the world in her hand, without disruptions or 
inconsistencies. But now it was falling apart. 
A shootout at Lake Motosu? Beretta Model 92? 
What was happening to her? Aomame could never have missed such important 
news. This world’s system was getting out of whack. Her mind went on churning as 
she walked. Whatever might have happened, she would have to do something to make 
the world whole again, to make it logical again. And do it now. Otherwise, outlandish 
things could happen. 
Tamaru could probably see the confusion inside her. He was a cautious man with 
superb intuition. He was also very dangerous. Tamaru had a profound respect for his 
employer, and was fiercely loyal to her. He would do anything to protect her. 
Aomame and Tamaru acknowledged each other’s abilities and liked each other—or so 
it seemed. But if he concluded that Aomame’s existence was not to his employer’s 
benefit, for whatever reason, then he would not hesitate to get rid of her. Aomame 
couldn’t blame him for that. It was his job, after all. 
The gate opened as she reached the other side of the garden. She gave the 
friendliest smile she could manage to the security camera, and a little wave as if there 
were nothing bothering her. Once she was outside the wall, the gate slowly shut 

---

85
behind her. As she descended the steep Azabu slope, Aomame tried to organize her 
thoughts and make a detailed, comprehensive list of what she should do from this 
point forward. 

---

86