After the quake blind willow, sleeping woman dance dance dance

CHAPTER 6 
Tengo 
DOES THIS MEAN 
WE’RE GOING PRETTY FAR FROM THE CITY?
The next call from Komatsu came early Friday morning, shortly after five o’clock. 
Tengo was just then dreaming about crossing a long stone bridge on a river. He was 
going to retrieve a document that he had forgotten on the opposite shore. He was 
alone. The river was big and beautiful, with sandbars here and there. The river flowed 
gently, and willows grew on the sandbars. He could see the elegant shape of trout in 
the water. The willows’ brilliant green leaves hung down, gently touching the water’s 
surface. The scene could have come from a Chinese plate. Tengo woke and looked at 
the clock by his pillow in the dark. Of course he knew before lifting the receiver who 
would be calling at such a time. 
“Do you have a word processor, Tengo?” Komatsu asked. No “Good morning,” no 
“Were you up?” If he was awake now, Komatsu must have pulled an all-nighter. He 
had certainly not awakened early to see the sun rise. He must have recalled something 
he wanted to tell Tengo before going to bed. 
“No, of course not,” Tengo answered. He was still in pitch darkness, halfway 
across the long bridge. He rarely had such vivid dreams. “It’s nothing to boast about, 
but I can’t afford anything like that.” 
“Do you know how to use one?” 
“I do. I can pretty much handle either a dedicated word processor or a computer. 
We have them at school. I use them all the time for work.” 
“Good. I want you to buy one today. I don’t know a thing about machines, so I’ll 
leave it to you to pick out the make and model. Send me a bill afterward. I want you 
to start revising 
Air Chrysalis
as soon as possible.” 
“You know, we’re talking about at least 250,000 yen—for a cheap one.” 
“That’s no problem.” 
Tengo cocked his head in wonderment. “So, you’re saying you’re going to buy me 
a word processor?” 
“That I am—from my own little private stash. This job deserves at least that much 
of an investment. We’ll never get anything done playing it cheap. As you know, 
Air 
Chrysalis
arrived as a word-processed manuscript, which means we’ll have to use a 
word processor to rewrite it. I want you to make the new one look like the old one. 
Can you start the rewrite today?” 
Tengo thought about it a moment. “I can start it anytime I decide to, but Fuka-Eri 
wants me to meet someone this Sunday before she gives me permission, and of course 

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I haven’t met the person yet. If those negotiations break down, anything we do now 
could be a complete waste of time and money” 
“Never mind, it’ll work out. Don’t worry about the details. Start working right 
away. We’re in a race against time.” 
“Are you that sure my interview will go well?” 
“That’s what my gut tells me,” Komatsu said. “I go by the gut. I might not appear 
to have any talent, but I’ve got plenty of gut instinct—if I do say so myself. That’s 
how I’ve survived all these years. By the way, Tengo, do you know what the biggest 
difference is between talent and gut instinct?” 
“I have no idea.” 
“You can have tons of talent, but it won’t necessarily keep you fed. If you have 
sharp instincts, though, you’ll never go hungry.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tengo said. 
“All I’m saying is, don’t worry. You can start the job today.” 
“If you say so, it’s fine with me. I was just trying to avoid kicking myself for 
starting too early.” 
“Let me worry about that. I’ll take complete responsibility.” 
“Okay, then. I’m seeing somebody this afternoon, but I’ll be free to start working 
after that. I can shop for a word processor this morning.” 
“That’s great, Tengo. I’m counting on you. We’ll join forces and turn the world 
upside down.” 
Tengo’s married girlfriend called just after nine, when she was finished dropping her 
husband and kids off at the train station for their daily commute. She was supposed to 
be visiting Tengo’s apartment that afternoon. They always got together on Fridays. 
“I’m just not feeling right,” she said. “Sorry, but I don’t think I can make it today. 
See you next week.” 
“Not feeling right” was her euphemism for her period. She had been raised to 
prefer delicate, euphemistic expressions. There was nothing delicate or euphemistic 
about her in bed, but that was another matter. Tengo said he was also sorry to miss her 
that day, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. 
In fact, he was not all that sorry to miss her on this particular Friday. He always 
enjoyed sex with her, but his feelings were already moving in the direction of 
rewriting