About This Novel
Shinto Eichi came out of the crowded Hokkaido train station. Outside the platform, it was a rare sunny day in Sapporo in February. The snowplow truck swept a foot of snow to the side of the road, revealing the blue-black asphalt road. Even with the plush gloves on, his fingers felt as if they had just been taken out of the freezer. Shindo wrapped his clothes tightly and looked at his hands unconsciously. The old black briefcase was still there. He took a deep breath and flagged down a taxi. The warm and muggy air in the car covered the windows with a thick layer of mist. Shindo took off his gloves, put his briefcase on his knees, closed his eyes and leaned back on the uncomfortable leather seat.
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