Volume 1 - CH 3.2

OCTOBER 10, 2022 ~ CTRLDEVIL

Kiriko slumped on the couch in a state of dejection. He tossed the bag wildly on the table. The anxiolytic drugs did nothing to ease his stupor.

He shoved her coffee aside – and again flung the contents of the bag down. The packets made a rustling sound. Coffee dripped from the edge of the table onto the carpet. She closed her eyes tightly. Crow’s feet were clearly visible around her eyes. Her face looked so tired that he wanted to laugh.

“Is this yours?” Fujishima then continued. “Hers?”

There was no reply.

“You should know. You guessed right the first time. Meth, syringes, and a pipe. All the trappings of a drug addict. So how did all this get into the house?”

There was no reply.

“Did Kanako’s weight suddenly change? Has she grown thin? What about her behavior?”

Kiriko opened her eyes. Her neck was covered in red rashes, probably smothered raw by tears and sweat. She shuddered, choking back her sobs.

“That girl… would never do something like that.”

“So it’s yours?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s being ridiculous?”

Kiriko glared viciously at her ex-husband. But there was no power behind her expression. She was still crying, her eyes bloodshot. When was the last time they had looked at each other so intently?

“Because I don’t know. How she grew up. What sort of friends she hangs out with, what kind of food she likes. I’m her father, but I don’t even have the slightest clue.”

“But──”

“Just now I was wondering whether or not I really have a daughter at all. After all, it wasn’t like she’d ever rooted for me.”

A long, thin breath escaped from her slack mouth. He had seen many women with this look on their faces. It was the face of someone who had been told of a close relative’s crime or death.

“Why would she──”

“Isn’t this what you called me here to confirm?”

Kiriko’s voice caught in her throat.

“You aren’t going to call the cops?”

“Shouldn’t that be obvious?”

“Why the hell would you! You can’t!”

Kiriko took Fujishima’s hand and latched onto it like a child. She looked up at him with eyes that seemed to be pleading for salvation, digging her long fingernails into his wrists. “There’s no way we can do anything about this by ourselves!”

He grabbed the cordless phone with his left hand before she could get it. The rampaging Kiriko was caught in his arms. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating. And the smell of sweat and alcohol. The feel of her soft arms and the warmth coming from her made his back buckle involuntarily.

“Listen. What do you think will happen if those guys find out about this? You used to be a detective’s wife. Do you understand?”

“Let me go! Quickly, or else she…”

“Listen to me. Our daughter’s gotten mixed up with something. It’s the kind of stuff that people love to cry over. Can you handle them? What of Kanako? If the media finds out, her life is over. Can you endure that?”

In his arms, she was slowly losing the strength to resist. There was no way she could handle it. Countless thoughts must have been mixed up with each word he spoke to her.

Take, for example, the time when she was living in a government accommodation. She was already tired of being the wife of a police officer, and therefore had become a bit of a pariah. She did not want to fit in with the police community and forced her daughter, Kanako, to follow suit. She devoted herself to her daughter’s upbringing, and planned to take advantage of her entrance into a private junior high school to join a new community that was more appropriate to her status.

“She must have run away on a whim. That has to be it.”

A wail, almost a scream, escaped from her throat. “What would you know?”

“Just let me take care of it.”

T/N

1. here Fujishima refers to it as shabu (シャブ) which is slang for uppers, usually meth