After the quake blind willow, sleeping woman dance dance dance

very tough
place. There 
were tons of orphans after the war, and not enough food or heat for them all. I had to 
do all kinds of things to survive.” Tamaru glanced down at the back of his right hand. 
“So an adoption was arranged for form’s sake, I became a Japanese citizen, and got a 
Japanese name: Ken’ichi Tamaru. All I know about my original name is the surname: 
Park—and there are as many Koreans named ‘Park’ as there are stars in the sky.” 
Sitting side by side with Tamaru, Aomame listened to the cries of the cicadas. 
“You should get another dog,” Aomame said. 
“Madame says so too. The safe house needs another guard dog, at least. But I just 
don’t feel like it yet.” 
“I understand. But you should get one. Not that I’m in any position to be advising 
people.” 
“I will,” Tamaru said. “We do need a trained guard dog, in the end. I’ll get in touch 
with a breeder right away.” 
Aomame looked at her watch and stood up. There was still some time left until 
sunset, but already a hint of evening marked the sky—a different blue mixed in with 
the blue of the afternoon. She could feel some of the lingering effects of the sherry. 
Could the dowager still be sleeping? 
“According to Chekhov,” Tamaru said, rising from his chair, “once a gun appears 
in a story, it has to be fired.” 
“Meaning what?” 
Tamaru stood facing Aomame directly. He was only an inch or two taller than she 
was. “Meaning, don’t bring unnecessary props into a story. If a pistol appears, it has 
to be fired at some point. Chekhov liked to write stories that did away with all useless 
ornamentation.” 

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287
Aomame straightened the sleeves of her dress and slung her bag over her shoulder. 
“And that worries you—if a pistol comes on the scene, it’s sure to be fired at some 
point.” 
“In Chekhov’s view, yes.” 
“So you’re thinking you’d rather not hand me a pistol.” 
“They’re dangerous. And illegal. And Chekhov is a writer you can trust.” 
“But this is not a story. We’re talking about the real world.” 
Tamaru narrowed his eyes and looked hard at Aomame. Then, slowly opening his 
mouth, he said, “Who knows?” 

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