After the quake blind willow, sleeping woman dance dance dance

Air Chrysalis
and so far he’s handled everything himself. He’s 
supposed
to restrict himself to the magazine side of things, but he ignored that fact 
and hasn’t let anybody else lay a finger on this project, even when it went into book 
production. So if he takes off now, nobody knows what to do. If he’s really sick, I 
suppose there’s nothing we can say, but still …” 
“What’s wrong with him?” 
“I don’t know. All he said was he’s not feeling well. And then he hung up. Haven’t 
heard a word from him since. We wanted to ask him a few things and tried calling 
him, but all we got was the answering machine. Nobody knows what to do.” 
“Doesn’t he have a family?” 
“No, he lives alone. He used to have a wife and a kid, but I’m pretty sure he’s been 
divorced for a long time. He doesn’t tell anybody anything, so I don’t really know, 
but that’s what I’ve heard.” 
“Anyhow, it’s strange that he’s been out a week and you’ve only heard from him 
once.” 
“Well, you know Komatsu. Common sense isn’t really his thing.” 
Receiver in hand, Tengo thought about this remark. “It’s true, you never know 
what he’ll do next. He’s socially awkward and he can be self-centered, but as far as I 
know he’s not irresponsible about his work. I don’t care how sick he is, he wouldn’t 
just let everything go and not contact the office when 
Air Chrysalis
is selling like this. 
He’s not that bad.” 
“You’re absolutely right,” the editor said. “Maybe somebody should go to his 
place and see what’s up. There was all that trouble with Sakigake over Fuka-Eri’s 
disappearance, and we still don’t know where she is. Something might have 
happened. I can’t believe he’d fake being sick so he could take off from work and 
hide out with Fuka-Eri, right?” 
Tengo said nothing. He could hardly tell the man that Fuka-Eri was right there in 
front of him, cleaning her ears with a cotton swab. 

---

442
“And not just this case. Everything involving this book. I don’t know, there’s 
something wrong with it. We’re glad it’s selling so well, but there’s something about 
it that’s not quite right. And I’m not the only one: a lot of people at the company feel 
that way about it. Oh, by the way, Tengo, did you have something you wanted to talk 
to Komatsu about?” 
“No, nothing special. I haven’t talked to him for a while, so I was just wondering 
what he’s up to.” 
“Maybe the stress of it all finally got to him. Anyhow, 
Air Chrysalis
is the first 
bestseller this company has ever had. I’m looking forward to this year’s bonus. Have 
you read the book?” 
“Of course, I read the manuscript when it was submitted for the competition.” 
“Oh, that’s right. You were a screener.” 
“I thought it was well written and pretty interesting, too.” 
“Oh, it’s interesting all right, and well worth a read.” 
Tengo detected an ominous ring to his remark. “But something about it bothers 
you?” 
“Well, this is just an editor’s intuition. You’re right: it 
is
well written. A little 
too
well written for a debut by a seventeen-year-old girl. And now she’s disappeared. And 
we can’t get in touch with her editor. The book is like one of those old ghost ships 
with nobody aboard: it just keeps sailing along, all sails set, straight down the 
bestseller seaway.” 
Tengo managed a vague grunt. 
“It’s creepy. Mysterious. Too good to be true. This is just between you and me, but 
people around here are whispering that Komatsu himself might have fixed up the 
manuscript—more than common sense would allow. I can’t believe it, but if it’s true, 
we could be holding a time bomb.” 
“Maybe it was just a series of lucky coincidences.” 
“Even so, good luck can only last so long,” the editor said. 
Tengo thanked him and ended the call. 
After hanging up, Tengo said to Fuka-Eri, “Mr. Komatsu hasn’t been to work for the 
past week. They can’t get in touch with him.” 
Fuka-Eri said nothing. 
“The people around me seem to be disappearing one after another,” Tengo said. 
Still Fuka-Eri said nothing. 
Tengo suddenly recalled the fact that people lose fifty million skin cells every day. 
The cells get scraped off, turn into invisible dust, and disappear into the air.