After the quake blind willow, sleeping woman dance dance dance

just saw him
you mean he’s not there anymore?” 
“That’s right,” Aomame said. “A little while ago he was in the park across from 
my building. But he’s not there anymore.” 
“How long ago do you mean by 
a little while ago
?” 
“About forty minutes ago.” 
“Why didn’t you call me forty minutes ago?” 
“I had to follow him right away and didn’t have the time.” 
Tamaru exhaled ever so slowly, as if squeezing out the breath. “Follow him?” 
“I didn’t want to lose him.” 
“I thought I told you never to go outside.” 
Aomame chose her words carefully. “But I can’t just sit by when danger’s 
approaching me. Even if I had called you, you wouldn’t have been able to get here 
right away. Right?” 
Tamaru made a small sound in the back of his throat. “So you followed 
Bobblehead.” 
“It looks like he had no idea at all he was being followed.” 
“A pro can act like that,” Tamaru cautioned. 
Tamaru was right. It all might have been an elaborate ruse. Not that she would 
admit that. “I’m sure you would be able to do that, but as far as I could tell, 
Bobblehead isn’t on the same level. He may be skilled, but he’s different from you.” 
“He might have had backup.” 
“No. He was definitely on his own.” 
Tamaru paused for a moment. “All right. So did you find out where he was 
heading?” 
Aomame told him the address of the building and described its exterior. She didn’t 
know which apartment he was in. Tamaru took notes. He asked a few questions, and 
Aomame answered as accurately as she could. 
“You said that when you first saw him he was in the park across the street from 
you,” Tamaru said. 
“Correct.” 
“What was he doing there?” 
Aomame told him—how the man was sitting on top of the slide and staring at the 
night sky. She didn’t mention the two moons. That was only to be expected. 
“Looking at the sky?” Tamaru asked. Aomame could hear the gears shift in his 
mind. 
“The sky, or the moon, or the stars. One of those.” 
“And he let himself be exposed like that, defenseless, on the slide.” 
“That’s right.” 
“Don’t you find that odd?” Tamaru asked. His voice was hard and dry, reminding 
her of a desert plant that could survive a whole year on one day’s worth of rain. “That 
man had run you down. He was one step away from you. Pretty impressive. Yet there 

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he was, on top of a slide, leisurely gazing up at the night sky, not paying any attention 
to the apartment where you live. It doesn’t add up.” 
“I agree—it doesn’t make much sense. Be that as it may, I couldn’t very well let 
him go.” 
Tamaru sighed. “But I still think it was dangerous.” 
Aomame didn’t say anything. 
“Did following him help you get any closer to solving the riddle?” Tamaru asked. 
“No,” Aomame said. “But there was one thing that caught my attention.” 
“Which was?” 
“When I looked at the mailboxes I saw that a person named Kawana lives on the 
third floor.” 
“So?” 
“Have you heard of 
Air Chrysalis
? The bestselling novel this past summer?” 
“Even I read newspapers, you know. The author, Eriko Fukada, was the daughter 
of a follower of Sakigake. She disappeared and they suspected she was abducted by 
the cult. The police investigated it. I haven’t read the novel yet.” 
“Eriko Fukada isn’t just the daughter of a follower. Her father was Leader, the 
head of Sakigake. She’s the daughter of the man I sent on to the 
other side
. Tengo 
Kawana was hired by the editor as a ghostwriter, and rewrote 
Air Chrysalis
. In reality 
the novel is a joint work between the two of them.” 
A long silence descended. Long enough to walk to the end of a long, narrow room, 
look up something in a dictionary, and walk back. Finally Tamaru broke the silence. 
“You have no proof that the Kawana who lives in that building is Tengo Kawana.” 
“Not yet, no,” Aomame admitted. “But if he is the same person, then this all makes 
sense.” 
“Certain parts do mesh together,” Tamaru said. “But how do you know that this 
Tengo Kawana ghostwrote