After the quake blind willow, sleeping woman dance dance dance



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It might be faster
, he 
thought, 
to just let the man in and show him the place. Tell him, look, no TV, right?
But if he saw Ushikawa, with his odd features, shut up alone in an apartment in the 
middle of the day without a stick of furniture, he couldn’t help but be suspicious. 
“Mr. Kozu, people who have TVs have to pay the subscription fee. That’s the law. 
Some people say they never watch NHK, so they’re not going to pay. But that 
argument doesn’t hold water. Whether you watch NHK or not, if you have a TV you 
have to pay.” 
So it’s just a fee collector. Let him get it out of his system. Don’t respond, and he’ll 
go away. But how could he be so sure there’s someone in this apartment?
After he 
came back an hour or so ago, Ushikawa hadn’t been out again. He hardly made a 
sound, and he always kept the curtains closed. 
“Mr. Kozu, I know very well that you are in there,” the man said, as if reading 
Ushikawa’s thoughts. “You must think it strange that I know that. But I do know it—
that you’re in there. You don’t want to pay the NHK fee, so you’re trying to not make 
a sound. I’m perfectly aware of this.” 
The homogeneous knocks started up again. There would be a slight pause, like a 
wind instrument player pausing to take a breath, then once more the pounding would 
start, the rhythm unchanged. 
“I get it, Mr. Kozu. You have decided to ignore me. Fine. I’ll leave today. I have 
other things to do. But I’ll be back. Mark my words. If I say I’ll be back, you can 
count on it. I’m not your average fee collector. I never give up until I get what is 
coming to me. I never waver from that. It’s like the phases of the moon, or life and 
death. There is no escape.” 
A long silence followed. Just when Ushikawa thought he might be gone, the 
collector spoke up again. 
“I’ll be back soon, Mr. Kozu. Look forward to it. When you’re least expecting it, 
there will be a knock on the door. 
Bang bang!
And that will be me.” 
No more knocks now. Ushikawa listened intently. He thought he heard footsteps 
fading down the corridor. He quickly went over to his camera and fixed his gaze on 
the entrance to the apartment. The fee collector should finish his business in the 
building soon and be leaving. He had to check and see what sort of man he was. NHK 
collectors wear uniforms, so he should be able to spot him right away. But maybe he 
wasn’t really from NHK. Maybe he was pretending to be one to try to get Ushikawa 
to open the door. Either way, he had to be someone Ushikawa had never seen before. 
The remote for the shutter in his right hand, he waited expectantly for a likely-looking 
person to appear. 
For the next thirty minutes, though, no one came into or out of the building. 
Eventually a middle-aged woman he had seen a number of times emerged and 
pedaled off on her bike. Ushikawa had dubbed her “Chin Lady” because of the ample 
flesh dangling below her chin. A half an hour later Chin Lady returned, a shopping 


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bag in the basket of her bike. She parked her bike in the bike parking area and went 
into the building, bag in hand. After this, a boy in elementary school came home. 
Ushikawa’s name for him was “Fox,” since his eyes slanted upward. But no one who 
could have been the fee collector appeared. Ushikawa was puzzled. The building had 
only one way in and out, and he had kept his eyes glued to the entrance every second. 
If the collector hadn’t come out, that could only mean he was 
still inside

He continued to watch the entrance without a break. He didn’t go to the bathroom. 
The sun set, it grew dark, and the light at the entrance came on. But still no fee 
collector. After six, Ushikawa gave up. He went to the bathroom and let out all the 
pee he had been holding in. The man was definitely still in the building. Why, he 
didn’t know. It didn’t make any sense. But that weird fee collector had decided to stay 
put. 
The wind, colder now, whined through the frozen electric lines. Ushikawa turned 
on the space heater, and as he smoked a cigarette he tried to make sense of it all. 
Why 
did the man have to speak in such an aggressive, challenging tone? Why was he so 
positive that someone was inside the apartment? And why hadn’t he left the building? 
If he hasn’t left here, then where is he?
Ushikawa left the camera, leaned against the wall, and stared for the longest time 
at the orange filament of the space heater. 


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