Although there was no official sign yet indicating the end of the rainy season, a midsummer sun in the clear blue sky was bathing the earth in abundant light. After a long time, the willows with their new and lush foliage cast a dense, gently swaying shade on the road.
Tamura welcomed Aomame at the entrance. He was wearing a dark summer suit, a white shirt, and a plain tie. Not a single bead of sweat appeared on his face. Aomame was always surprised that such a large man never sweated, no matter how hot it was.
As soon as he saw her, he nodded slightly, greeted her by mumbling something unintelligible, and did not open his mouth again. They did not engage in the small talk they were used to. He led Aomame to the Lady, who was waiting for her, walking first down the long corridor without looking back. Aomame guessed that Tamura was not in the mood to talk to anyone, perhaps because he had lost the dog. On the phone, he had told her, “We need a new dog to guard us,” as if he were casually talking about the weather, but even she could tell he was hiding his true feelings.
He adored the female German shepherd with whom they had developed a warm and mutual bond over the years. He had taken the inexplicably sudden death of the dog as a personal insult and challenge. As Aomame looked at Tamura’s broad, blackboard-like and silent back, she could easily imagine the anger simmering inside him.