After the quake blind willow, sleeping woman dance dance dance

part of our job.” 
“That’s fine, search all you want,” Aomame said. There was no hint of tension in 
her voice. If anything, there was a perceptible touch of amusement at their neurotic 
attention to detail. 
Ponytail came over to Aomame and did a body search to make sure she was not 
carrying anything suspicious. All she had on was a pair of thin cotton pants and a 
blouse; it didn’t take a search to know there could be nothing hidden under those. He 
was just going through the motions. His hands seemed tense and stiff. It would have 
been hard to compliment him on his skill at this. He probably had little experience at 
doing body searches on women. Buzzcut watched him work, leaning against the desk. 
When the body search was over, Aomame opened her gym bag for him. Inside 
were a thin summer cardigan, a matching jersey top and bottom for work, and two 
towels, one large and one small. A simple makeup set and a paperback. There was a 
small beaded purse containing a wallet, a change purse, and a key ring. Aomame 
handed each item to Ponytail. Finally she took out a black vinyl pouch and unzipped 
it. Inside was a change of underwear and a few tampons and sanitary napkins. 
“I sweat when I work, so I need to have a change of clothes,” Aomame said. She 
took out matching lace-trimmed bra and panties and started to spread them out for 
Ponytail to see. He blushed slightly and gave several quick nods as if to say, “All 
right, I’ve seen enough.” Aomame began to suspect that this man could not speak at 
all. 
With unhurried movements, Aomame returned her underthings and sanitary 
products to the pouch, zipped it closed, and replaced it in the bag. 
These guys are 
amateurs
, she thought. 
What kind of bodyguard blushes at the sight of cute lingerie 
and a few tampons? If Tamaru had been doing this job, he would have searched Snow 
White down to the hairs of her crotch. He would have examined the bottom of that 
pouch if it meant digging through a warehouse’s worth of bras, camisoles, and 
panties. Things like that are nothing but rags to him—well, true, he’s as gay as they 
come. At the very least, he would have picked up the pouch to check its weight. And 
then he would have been sure to find the Heckler & Koch wrapped in a handkerchief 
(and weighing in at some 500 grams) and the small homemade ice pick in its hard 
case
. 

---

347
These guys are amateurs. They may have some skill at karate, and they may have 
vowed absolute loyalty to their Leader, but they’re nothing but a couple of amateurs. 
Just as the dowager predicted
. Aomame had assumed they wouldn’t go through a 
pouch stuffed with women’s things, and she had been right. It had been a gamble, of 
course, but she had not gone so far as to think about what she would do if the gamble 
hadn’t paid off. About all she could have done in that case was pray. But she knew 
this much: 
prayer works
. 
Aomame went into the suite’s large powder room and changed into her jersey 
outfit, folding her blouse and cotton pants and placing them in the bag. Next she 
checked to see that her hair was pinned tightly in place. Then she sprayed her mouth 
with a breath freshener. She took the Heckler & Koch out of the pouch and, after 
flushing the toilet to mask the sound, she pulled back the slide to send a bullet into the 
chamber. Now all she would have to do was release the safety. Finally, she moved the 
case with the ice pick to the top of the bag where she could have immediate access to 
it. Once she had finished with these preparations, she faced the mirror and relaxed her 
tensed expression.