Volume 1 - CH 8

Warning:

When he opened the door, he heard the domestic sounds of dishes touching each other.　Kiriko was standing in the kitchen, washing pans. On the table were two rice bowls and a bowl for soup, face down. In the center of the table were taro stew and grilled white fish wrapped in plastic wrap.

“Are you going to eat?”

Kiriko said in a calm tone as she turned on the faucet. Slightly confused, Fujishima could only nod. He picked up his travel bag and placed it in a corner of the living room. She said nothing.

He sat down on a chair. He noticed that the other bowl and chopsticks must have been Kanako’s. He stole a glance at his wife’s face as she wiped the dishes. Although she was still a bit worn out, she had regained some of her good looks with a little makeup and lipstick.

Rice and miso soup were ladled into bowls. The warmth alone was enough to make his heart clench. He had no appetite, only a heavy tiredness that felt as though he was about to meld into the back of the chair.

“You’ve calmed down?”

“I’m just tired of making a fuss.”

Fujishima reported on his day as he poked at the side dishes. About their daughter, who was brilliant, yet hung out with a group of delinquents, was hated by the girls she considered friends, and had been in and out of the neurologist’s office on and off for many years.

“A neurologist? You mean a mental hospital?”

Fujishima frowned. He himself saw one every two weeks.

“It’s not a mental hospital. It’s a neurology clinic.”

“But she kept saying that she was going to the dentist.”

She looked as if she had been terribly wounded.

“What kind of person was she, after all?”

Fujishima was speechless. Similar questions were swirling in his fatherly head.

The girl was an honor student who attended school diligently, went to a preparatory school during vacations, and was aiming for a national university. She was good at English, and apparently had a dream of becoming a translator in the future when she was in junior high school. On the other hand, she hung out with a group of delinquents in junior high school. That still might have been the case today.

In high school, she often returned home late at night. In addition, she had meth and paraphernalia unique to a regular user. Fujishima recalled his time as a detective. He had seen many young people who had grown up in wealthy families and attended prestigious schools, but had fallen to ruin through drugs and violence. So Kanako was one of them.

“The girl said that this is her way of punishing us. Do you think so?”

He rummaged through the refrigerator. His body, continuously exposed to the strong sunlight, craved beer. Kiriko continued.

“I admit it now. I certainly let her off the hook. No, it’s too laid back to say I let her off the hook. All along, I’ve been condescending and neglectful. Because she followed your words. Because she didn’t go to the middle school I wanted. That’s the only reason I was so disappointed, and I took advantage of my job to think only of myself. I left her alone all these years.”

He drank his beer in one gulp while making appropriate remarks.

“I would never question her. Even if she doesn’t come back, as long as she doesn’t blame me, it would be enough if she just told me that she was doing well.”

Kiriko was forever wiping the dishes, which were already dry. He left most of his supper and laid down on the couch in the living room. He took sleeping pills from his travel bag and took two days’ worth at once. Kiriko took one look at him rooted to the couch. But she said nothing.

He looked at each of Kanako’s photographs. The summer blanket was draped over his body as he idled with the photographic paper in his hand. A long day. And he had never looked at his daughter so much as he did today. Since her birth to this day, as a father, he had been checking on her growth at each milestone, though not to the same extent as other people would. But it was far short of what he had seen today.

A snapshot with a dead boy named Ogata. The two were standing upright side by side in front of a cage containing some kind of animal at what appeared to be a zoo. Who was the photographer? Both of them were standing tall with a face that looked so formal that it was almost comical. The sky was dull, and there were patches of snow in the shadows of the trees. There was no date on the photo, but it was probably the winter of their eighth grade year. Whenever he saw them smiling at each other in an innocent and friendly manner, as if they were middle school students, his heart ached.

They were arranged by age group. There were no delinquent boys or girls anywhere around Kanako, a junior high school student. Nor was she anywhere to be seen with what appeared to be a drug dealer.　

Kanako, now in high school, had lost some of her childishness and had grown even taller, with longer arms and legs and hair that reached to her back. Her complexion was fair and she wore an air of maturity. Like a spirited model with a sense of sobriety as her duty. He wondered if that was how she had been. At the time, Fujishima was in the First Section. He was obsessed with a case.

With that being said, why didn’t he notice all these little sides of her? Plain clothes, uniforms. A variety of outfits and rich expressions. I saw a range of smiles, from archaic smiles to full smiles with white teeth peeking out. At other times, a sulky look with pouting lips appeared on her face.

Darkness. He realized that the overhead light had been turned off at some point. The picture slipped through his hands, and he knew he had been ruminating on Kanako’s image in his slumber. Fatigue was melting his extremities. His vision was wandering, partly due to the effects of the sleeping pills. His eyelids were heavy. Kiriko had already disappeared into the bedroom.

The digital clock on the VCR was showing four o’clock in the morning. He felt terribly thirsty. Getting up, he went to the kitchen in search of water. Not even half a glass of tap water made it down his throat. His feet were heading for the bedroom.

The door was opened quietly. On the semi-double bed, Kiriko was sleeping with her back to the door. Silently, he peeled back the edges of the bedding. Dressed in her pajamas, she didn’t move an inch. The thick scent of her body sent shivers down his spine. Underwear peeked out through the gap between her pajamas, giving her a sensual look. The lines of her body were a little less defined than before, but she still looked younger than her age, and her body was still nubile.

He took off the shirt he was wearing. Naked only on his upper body, he slid himself onto the bed. He pulled her faintly sweaty body closer and touched her shoulder. Her sleeping face caught his eye.

It was as if she had been poked with a sharp blade. It wasn’t the face of a sleeping person. Her brow was wrinkled deeply and she was gnashing her teeth as if she was enduring pain. He was about to say something, but she shook her head slowly as if she was interrupting him. He felt a sense of shame that made him want to run away. Not wanting to retreat, he smiled benignly and continued to fondle her body. He touched her breasts, which had not lost their firmness, and buried his face in her neck.

“No…”

She wriggled and jerked his arm away from her. Long nails dug into the back of her hand, and the unrelenting pain almost robbed him of his arousal.

“Stop…”

“Why?” He tucked his face next to her stomach.

“Please, stop!”

Strong force pushed him away.

Like a woman trying to escape rape, the force felt instinctive. Kiriko’s palm hit his larynx. He coughed like an asthmatic.

“At a time like this… Something’s wrong with your head…”

“I’m only──” He was coughing so abominably that he trailed off.

“Stop, I don’t want to hear it.”

“All I wanted was to start over with you guys.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’ll find Kanako.”

“Even if you do, what next? Really, what then?”

As expected, he did not say “alive”.

“I’m giving this my all.”

“And so what now?”

“I told you I’d find her, didn’t I?”

He was uncontrollably agitated and determined to seize the situation.

“I’m sick of being alone. I’m not old enough to be alone.”

She scrunched up her face and retreated to the very edge of the bed. “I can’t do any of that. I can’t start over.”

“Why?”

“Are you going to make me say it? You understand, don’t you?”

“I’m asking you why.”

“Because you don’t even try to understand. It’s terrifying. You’re… anyway, I can’t even imagine us together.”

“Then I…”

For what reason was he looking for that girl?

He never meant it to be in his face or words. No, he didn’t even think of it. But Kiriko’s face twitched as if she was lamenting in disgust.

“Are you looking for my daughter just to have me?”

“That’s not it.”

“Then why are you in here trying to touch me? How can you get hard when you don’t even have the slightest idea what you’re doing?”

Why, he wondered. He was at a loss for words and was deeply irritated by her vigorous attitude. Why was she doing this? If only she would shut her mouth and keep quiet, she would be a lovely woman.

“I was thankful for you. I really was. You were the only one I could count on. After all, you are her father, I thought. But…”

“Listen.”

There was only blinding rage.

“Or are you going to stop looking for Kanako if you can’t have sex with me?”

Sudden fatigue robbed him of language.

“Please. If it’s money, I’ll get it for you. If I hear from Kanako, I’ll call you.”

His right arm gripped her neck. Her eyeballs bulged with fear. With his left hand, he brushed her cheek. A short cry of pain escaped her. The base of his index finger was cut by a canine tooth, and a spot of blood drenched the sheet. Blood leaked from the black wound in rhythm with the beating of his heart. No time to be surprised. Her elbow hit his jaw, jolting his brain.

He applied pressure to his right hand. Her face was red and puffy, and her white teeth bared like a primate’s. Her well-defined face was distorted into an ugly mess. For her. For their daughter. He would have risked anything for them. But you people….

“Don’t kill me…” she croaked.

He didn’t understand what he was saying. Why on earth would he kill her? An intense shock hit his forehead and he saw a flash of red. She was holding an alarm clock in her hand. With his split left hand, he snatched the clock and threw it against the wall.

“Let me breathe…”

He did the same thing at that time. That son-of-a-bitch said.

“Please stop.”

“How many times did you fuck that guy?”

“I’m begging you, forgive me…”

“You made a fool of me.”

The smell of exhaust fumes. The cold underground parking lot flickered in his mind.

He released his right hand that was squeezing her. She slumped over and let out an animalistic moan. Yellow bile leaked from her mouth to the floor. Eventually, the moans turned to cries. Fujishima touched her waist and pulled her pajamas down to her feet. He pulled down her light pink panties. Her white hips, with few blemishes, were revealed.

She did not try to resist. He pulled down his trunks and got completely naked. Holding her by the waist, he spit on her pubic area and pushed his painfully erect penis in. He pulled up her pajamas and touched her breasts, disciplining the rhythm of his hips. The sensations were terribly vague. Still, he felt a hot surge, and he went on, clutching at her flesh.

Semen was smeared on their genitals, both of them. He came back to himself and shuddered. Regret and guilt. They were drowned out by the tinnitus-like frustration and anger. All he wanted to do was to start over. She said, ‘if it’s money, I’ll get it for you.’ Why would she say such a thing?

A hiccup-like sob escaped his throat and his eyelids heated. Tears ran down the bridge of his nose. He left the bedroom, holding his stubble-streaked face. In the bathroom, he washed his face. The mirror reflected a childlike face with reddened eyes. He could see a chest with protruding ribs and a flabby belly. A penis that had lost its hardness. A small red laceration on the forehead.　Tears almost welled up again. He sprinkled antiseptic solution from the first-aid kit on the wound on his hand. The dripping blood did not stop. Feeling slightly dizzy, he wrapped the bandage tightly around it.

He wandered around the living room. Mouth on a bottle of scotch in the cupboard, my nerves were on edge. I unzipped my travel bag. There were no condoms in it. He put on a change of pants and slacks. Half-naked, he returned to the bedroom. She was slumped over on her back, her limbs sprawled out on the bed. She was breathing heavily and her breasts were rising and falling violently.

“Take a shower.”

She remained supine and did not move. Was she that shocked? Did she really hate being taken that much? There was no way that this woman had such a weak heart. With both hands, he forcibly pulled her off the bed. The eyes that looked at him as if he were a monster. And there was a fierce hatred in her eyes. He endured it.

“I’m her father. And here’s where I’ll be til’ I find her.”

“What a noble idea.” The wound on his forehead ached.

“If the police won’t act, I’m going to turn to a detective agency or whatever. I’m going to spend all my savings on it. If I don’t have enough, I’ll bow down to all my relatives. I was thinking about that while you were moving your hips around so much. I was thinking how terribly natural it was.”

“I see.” The police would move.

How could they not be interested in a high school girl who had that much methamphetamine in her possession? They will try to put her into the category of the subject of a special search, not just as a runaway girl. This could develop into something big, using the mass media. Her picture would be plastered in police stations, highway service areas, and neighborhood halls all over the country.

His daughter being peeked at by all kinds of people with a keen interest in her. Just the thought of it was enough to make him feel bizarre and uncomfortable.

“I’ll just count all of this as punishment for not calling when I should have…”

Naked, Kiriko raised herself from the bed. The fluid stuck to her crotch had dried, and her pubic hair was discolored white.

He pulled one of the packets out of his slacks pocket. It was the one he had found in his daughter’s room and used for confirmation. He tore off the seal and dropped the crystals into his palm.　

Kiriko was putting on her panties. Halfway down, she stopped and stared at his palm.

“What… are you doing?”

“I’m going to find Kanako. I said I was, so I’m going to.”

He punched her in the stomach with his bandaged left hand. Her brown hair whipped about in the air, and she folded at the knees. Clinging to the corner of the bed, she growled.

“… you, really …”

“I will protect the two of you. I will find her. I won’t let them do it first.”

He wanted to find Kanako and hold her close. To reassure Kiriko.　

Spit dripped onto the crystals and he kneaded them around with his fingers. He screwed the melted mixture inside of her and rubbed it in. She let out a muffled scream as she gripped the summer cover. Eventually, her whole body shook.

“You’ll go to him, won’t you? The police won’t listen to you. The first thing they do when you talk about drugs is test you. You want them to think you’ re a drug addict? They suspect you more than Kanako. You still want to rely on them? Are they that much better?”

Once again, between her legs, she was growing stronger. She was shivering, squirming. Even so, her pubic hair was soaking wet.

“Do not step outside. I will call you every 30 minutes. If you don’t pick up the phone within three calls, I’ll call the police. I’ll tell them that there’s a woman with meth up hers here.”

“But it’ll be impossible for you.”

The sun shining through the window burned his eyes. The light was strong enough to make him angry. He pulled the curtain closed. She spoke in a thin voice.

“You don’t know anything about that girl.”

An unexplained excitement welled up from deep within his chest. I’ll definitely find her. He touched her breasts and continued to chant to himself.