What do you even say to that. He really liked Sano, too. "...I've definitely heard Japanese culture's better about allowing certain types of artistic freedom," he says after a terrible pause. (And seen on occasion. If we're being honest here.) "The things I sell are well within the window of accepted subject matter in Japanese art."

"I am willing, I think, to do a trade, Mr. Latz."

"Thank you... Uh, I guess I have to ask about the offer."

"Do you know the play The King in Yellow?"

"...Yes."

"For... personal reasons... I would prefer that this play never again be read or performed. My request is that, should you come across any copies of The King in Yellow or the artwork the Yellow Sign, or the book Der Wanderer by Mr. Roby, or any other media which references the King in Yellow, you give it to me immediately. And that you inform me promptly if any people seem to be preparing for a performance. I will of course cover all expenses and a reasonable fee per book or performance."

"Can I ask why you don't want anyone to see this play?"

"You can ask but I will not answer."

"...How do you plan on getting people not to perform it?"

"The powers of persuasion. Bribery. Support of alternate plays in the same venue."

To Sano's credit, those forms of influence involve neither violence nor the state. But he's still asking Oscar to become a kind of censor. "...Do you promise that's all the tactics you'll use."

"I can hardly tie my hands like that, Mr. Latz. Different scenarios require different approaches."

"...I don't feel good about the King in Yellow or especially Der Wanderer, but I've been punished for 'socially corrosive' art my entire career."

Sano visibly hesitates. "I can explain my reasoning but you must agree never to tell anyone."

"Go ahead." There's something about the way Sano reacted when Oscar said "Der Wanderer" that makes his stomach sink.

"Walk outside with me."

"Alright."

"My deepest apologies, Mr. Latz," Sano says. "I will have to behave in a way which is quite strange."

"Not a big problem."

"You see that at the present moment it's quite dry?"

"Yeah." (Wait, no, where is he going with this?) "I'm sorry, I don't quite get the connection with the King in Yellow."

"The very moment that I stop singing," Sano says, "it will begin to snow."

He sings quietly. The words are in no language Latz recognizes; they are odd, sort of... aqueous? Like a language spoken by frogs or fishes instead of by humans.

Oscar remembers, for a moment, the voice of a stream he liked to visit as a child.

And, the moment that Sano's song concludes, it snows.

"How on Earth did you predict that," asks Oscar. In the back of his mind, he has a bad feeling about what the answer's going to be.