Volume 1 - CH 9

He opened his eyes to the sound of his cell phone ringing.　

“Yes?”

“It’s Asai.”

“What the hell?”

“Right now, where are you staying?”

“My old place.”

In a panic, he opened the bedroom door. From the bathroom he could hear the sound of the shower running, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“If possible, I’d like to meet with you right away.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Can’t I just come over for a little bit?”

He connected words in rapid succession. He didn’t ask why. Both knew they were wasting their time. The official’s question was not a question.

“What’s going on?”

“I have some pictures I’d like to show you.”

Not only victims and suspects have their lives ruined by incidents. If you’re the first to discover a case, your daily life will be ruined for days. He was well aware of this, but when he actually put himself in that position, he realized that he would be forced to undergo a great deal of pain and suffering.

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me some pretty interesting things.”

So far, he had already been shown dozens of montages and mug shots.

“Yeah, maybe.”

The photographs shown would be of people around the victim. Junpei Koyama, a young man with glasses who had his chest punctured. Nobuko Yasuda, the owner of a snack bar, who was strangled to death. Hiroshi Kawamoto, the part-time clerk of the Five Market who was stabbed in the stomach.　

He sighed deeply. Every minute was too precious now. He wanted to get as close to Kanako as possible.

“Don’t come to the apartment. You know my wife hates cops. There’s a family restaurant nearby.”

He told him the name of the restaurant where he met Kaminaga last night.

“Got it.”

Hanging up the phone, he headed for the bathroom, which led to the washroom. The sound of the shower still persisted.

“Oi.”

He called out through the sliding door. No answer. He slid the door open. On the other side of the steam, Kiriko was scrubbing her body with a sponge. For how long had she been doing this? Her white skin, covered with foam, was red and scratched all over.

He stepped in and grabbed her wrist. The hot water from the shower splashed on the hem of his slacks.

“You look awful.”

“Let go of me!”

She tried to scrub it, as if she were insulted by Fujishima’s touch. It was as if her body had become impossibly dirty from his touch. He picked up the shower head that was lying on the floor and poured hot water on her. She let out a short scream and arched her back in pain. Then he tossed the shower head into the bathtub.

“Just hurry the hell up and stay put.”

She cowered and looked back at him with wide eyes.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m going out. Listen, don’t step out of the house.”

“Then get out!”

He left the bathroom covered in sweat and dampness. In the kitchen, he washed his face. He ran a comb through his hair. The teeth pressed against the wound on his forehead and he yelped.

He walked to the family restaurant. There were few customers, and a few businessmen were having breakfast. Asai was already sipping his coffee at a seat by the wall. A detective in a polo shirt was sitting in the booth right next to him. He was probably working with Asai. It was a different young man from the day before yesterday. Asai stood up and bowed.

“Excuse us for coming during your vacation. This late in the morning.”

He sat down on the seat. Asai gazed at his beat-up face seriously.

“Can’t believe it?”

“To be honest, I find that unexpected.”

When he was a detective, he took him to his apartment several times when he was drunk. Kiriko didn’t so much as say hello to him. In addition, Asai knew about the incident Fujishima had caused. Even a child would not believe that he would return to his former life.

“She’s been sick since the day before yesterday. I’m taking care of her.”

“I see.” Asai’s eyes had changed to those of a detective’s.

“Can I ask you one thing?”

“I thought you didn’t mean to pry.”

“Where’s your daughter right now?”

“She’s traveling to Kyushu with friends.”

Sweat beaded on Asai’s forehead. The young detective, who had been listening, exchanged glances with Asai.

“Subdivison Ch──”

Fujishima grabbed his cell phone.

“You think I’m making a fool of myself, don’t you?”

Asai did not respond.

“Did you think I was keeping her and her daughter locked up?”

“No, that’s…”

He immediately called home. The call was connected at the same time as the third ring.

“Yes?”

A voice that sounded as if the soul had been drained out of it.

“It’s me. So what was your temperature? And? What do you want me to get for you on the way home?”

“What… in the world are you talking about?”

“You remember him, don’t you, Asai-kun, from the station. He wants to say hello.”

He pulled away from Kiriko’s groggy voice and handed the cell phone to a bewildered Asai.

“See?”

Kiriko was a vicious woman, but she was no fool. Asai took the phone and put it to his ear.

“It’s been a while. Yes, I just heard about that. I see. Yes, please take care.”

The brief and hurried exchange was over. He received the cell phone from him. Fujishima inquired with his eyes.　

“…I’m sorry.”

“Hurry up with your business. I can’t just leave a sick person unattended.”

He put the phone to his ear and told Kiriko.

“It’s me.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I’ll be back soon.”

“So did she scream for help?”

“No.”

“Did she ask where her daughter was?”

“…No.”

“And did she ask you why I turned up at her place?”

“No… I understand what’s going on.”

“Naturally. If you keep poking your nose in, I’ll kill you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Asai bowed his head deeply. The young detective next to him rolled his eyes.

“So?”

“Here.”

Spread out on the table were three mug shots. All of young boys with colorful heads of hair – all of them had been arrested for criminal mischief. In other words, all of them had been arrested before. One was a young man with dyed gold hair that hung down to his collar. The other was a young man over 20 years old with dark skin like a surfer and shoulder-length brown hair. He had one of his front teeth gold-plated, perhaps as a fashion statement.

The other man was of indeterminate age. He had a shaved head and stubble from his chin to his mouth. Piercings were embedded in his ears, lips, and nose. There was a long, blade-like scar from his right forehead to his cheek. The skinhead had dark, vacant eyes, and his mouth was slightly open as if in a daze.

Fujishima stared at them, forgetting the time.

“Is something the matter?”

Asai’s voice brought him back to himself.

“What a great looking bunch of brats.”

He released the photos onto the table, feigning indifference. The skinhead bore a striking resemblance to the boy named Munakata who was supposedly a friend of Kanako’s. His style had changed since he was in the graduation photo, but his elusive, vacant stare had not.

“I don’t know. I’ll say it again. There was a terrible downpour that day. I didn’t see a thing.”

“You’re positively certain?”

“How couldn’t I have noticed such flamboyant little shits hanging around?”

The waitress brought a breakfast of omelets and bread. He nudged the photographs to the corner.

“Did the dead have criminal records?”

He asked about the one whose throat was ripped open at the store.

“It seems he was connected to a group of juvenile delinquents. They called themselves Apocalypse.”

“Apocalypse?”

He rifled through his drawer of memories.

“Some of their alumni found work with the Ishimaru family.”

“That’s right.”

“Those idiots couldn’t have done it.”

Asai sipped his coffee.

“Maybe so. But then again, Apocalypse… they were probably involved in the murder of a junior high student three years ago. Cunning, manipulative, and notorious.”

“Mm.”

“But the majority of the investigation team is focused on scouring for illegal foreigners. The higher ups, like the section chief, don’t think those kids are capable of that kind of murder.”

He was ever so forthcoming. At times, he even discussed the status of the investigation, which was supposed to be top secret. But his words did not reach Fujishima’s ears. His attention was focused on the boy Munakata.

He forced his breakfast down with cold water. He stuffed all the food in his stomach, assumed the role of a husband worried about his sick wife, and quickly slipped out of the restaurant.

Then he made a phone call. It was to the junior high school that Kanako had once attended. A man who appeared to be a clerk answered in an unfriendly voice.

He said that Rie Higashi, her former homeroom teacher, had already gone to practice with the tennis club she was supervising. It seemed that she was still working at the same school without being transferred. When he told him to call her out, the man said with great propriety that he would have her call back later. He gave him his name and number and hung up the phone. In any case, the junior high school was just a stone’s throw away. There was no way in hell he would just sit idly and wait.

He headed out on foot, looking back many times. Sweat beading on his shirt, he walked through the gate. The school building was deserted, and on the field, where the sun was shining, numerous members of the athletic teams were shouting and shedding sweat. The air smelled of dry dust.

When Fujishima announced himself and told her of his intention for coming, Higashi’s face turned grim.

“I understand you called earlier.”

“I was relieved to hear that your place of employment has not changed.”

“Is this about Kanako Fujishima…?”

“Three years ago, she was a student of yours.”

“I remember it clearly. But…”

Fujishima explained that he and his wife had divorced. Her mother had custody of the her now and would only allow him to see Kanako for short periods of time. He put on as sincere of an expression as he could.

“This is the result of putting all my energy into my work for so many years. Although I don’t think we can start over, I wish I could at least understand her better than I do now, not knowing anything about her.”

Her face was covered by the shadow of her sun visor. But he could see the doubtful look in her eyes.

“You worked for the police, right?”

“I quit the police force. Now I work for a private company.”

“So… you are going around asking each and every person who knows your daughter?”

“Seems awfully pointless, huh?”

“Yes, well. It seems counterproductive. That detective-interrogation sort of style.”

Higashi continued, running her eyes over the court.

“But I can understand how you feel. I have a little daughter myself. When it comes to our own children, all parents lose their cool.”

Higashi gave a small smile. Then, silently, she grabbed a soft ball at her feet and threw it at one of the club members who was swinging a racket. Without much force, the soft ball parabolized and fell to the ground. But the girl, a member of the club, bowed deeply to the east like a spring-loaded puppet to hit it. Soon she clapped her hands and instructed the many girls, and they started walking to the school building.

They passed through the chilly staff entrance and into the empty staff room. She offered Fujishima a spot on the sofa of the old parlor set and offered him a glass of barley tea.

Fujishima praised her memory. How could she remember the name of a student who had graduated three years earlier, much less her father’s occupation, unless it had made a deep impression on her? She shrugged.

“I have an answer for that.”

She handed him a postcard she was holding in her hand. It was a summer greeting card with an illustration of a morning glory printed on the reverse side. A brief update on how she was busy preparing for her college entrance exam was written in light blue color pen. It was definitely Kanako’s handwriting.

“Sometimes I get postcards like this. But even if I never heard from her, I’m sure I would have remembered her.”

“Was my daughter a memorable student?”

“Yes. Very clever, and more beautiful than cute. Not the type to assert herself, but she was full of charm.”

She looked at the postcard and added, “And she knew well how to please people. I’ve been a teacher for how long, and I can’t believe I’m still getting postcards like this after all these years.”

“So──”

She interrupted him.

“I know. You came to ask about him, didn’t you?”

“Him?”

“You don’t know him?”

“No, I do. I heard that my daughter had a boyfriend at the time. And that he committed suicide.”

“I will probably never forget that day.”

“Was Kanako shocked?”

“At the time, everyone was in terrible shock.”

“I’m told my daughter didn’t show much grief.”

“Who told you that?”

“Not everyone in this world has a soft spot for my daughter.”

“Tears aren’t the only way to express condolences.”

“Well, that’s right.”

He showed her a bunch of photos. He pointed to two people, Nami Endo and Yasuhiro Munakata.

“Was it because of Ogata-kun’s death that she started hanging out with them?”

She replied bristlingly. “Neither of them were bad kids by any means.”

“But this student, Munakata. He was part of a gang named Apocalypse.”

“You must have put a lot of effort, looking into this.”

Her face turned grim. Fujishima was convinced that his eyes were not mistaken after all. The bareheaded boy was Munakata after all.

“Kanako’s mother has asked me to do this for her. My daughter has disengaged from communication with both of us for years now. She is a smart, strong girl. She’ll end up going to college on a scholarship and choose to support herself. Just end up disassociating herself from us. That is why I want to know as much as I can about that girl’s past. I understand that this is a terribly selfish thing to say.”

These were not random remarks. If he didn’t find her now, he would never be able to see her again. That was the feeling he had.

He felt Higashi’s gaze on him painfully. There was a strong light in her eyes as she tried to discern the authenticity of the situation.

“There was a time when Kanako fell into truancy. She was pale and gaunt, as if she had not been eating or sleeping properly, let alone studying. It was right after she entered the third year.”

“Huh?”

“There is no doubt that Ogata-kun’s death in that way was a great psychological shock. But even now, I don’t think that was the only reason. She herself denied it once and for all.”

“Was it drugs?”

Higashi’s eyes widened in surprise. Then she gave one big sigh.

“At the time, I was unsure. Should I tell her parents or not? In her case, it was obvious that she was using drugs after knowing how scary they are. It was like she was slowly trying to commit suicide.”

“I couldn’t have even noticed her…”

“I think she blamed herself. More severely than anyone else. It was contrary to those of us who were slowly healing from our grief. She was not willing to even go back to her normal life. Munakata-kun and his crew had the means to get those drugs. Things that we would have never thought possible.”

“So, she──”

For a change, Higashi looked pained.

“To tell the truth, my memory of those days is a little fuzzy. In any case, many things happened three years ago, including Ogata-kun’s suicide.”

“Ah. Yes, that’s right.”

Fujishima’s memory was coming back to him. Some time ago, there had been a shocking incident in which someone had murdered a student at this junior high school. That incident, as he recalled, had also occurred three years ago. Then Higashi spoke, as if to interrupt his thoughts.

“I talked to her when she had calmed down to a certain extent. She said she would stop using drugs and would stop hanging out with Munakata-kun and the others.”

Fujishima nodded, though to him it sounded like nonsense. Higashi stared directly into Fujishima’s face.　

“Are you going to see them? Munakata-kun and Endo-san? If that’s the case──”　

He shook his head.

“No. Enough is enough. No amount of digging up the past will change the situation. What matters is how we are going to handle our daughter.”

“She’s a bright girl. I’m sure she’ll come around sooner or later.”

Fujishima stood up and held out his hand.

“It’s been a pleasure talking to you.”

He shook her hand. It was big like a boy’s, tanned by the sun, and her palm was thick. The soft breeze from the fan ruffled her hair. He was about to leave when she spoke once more.

“She’s doing well, right?”

“Well, she’s been keeping busy with all sorts of things. This and that.”

He bowed and left the staff room. The aburazemi were rumbling like an engine that had begun to hum.

The sun was high in the sky and the smell of dust and sand intensified as he stepped out the front door. The heat from the asphalt was transmitted through the worn soles of his shoes. On the sidewalk, a young baseball player with a slight build was panting like a skinny stray dog. He looked around the water fountain as if he was thirsty and wanted something to drink.

His molars grit sand. As he passed through the school gate, he glimpsed Kanako walking by his side. Her hand holding her bag was as thin as a piece of wood. Her face was pale and white. Holding up his hand, he asked,

Are you alright?

But Kanako just smiled unworriedly. It was that wry smile, the one with the corners of her lips lifted. It seemed as if she might’ve said something, but he didn’t hear anything. With a flickering shimmer, she dispersed into the distance beyond the waving heat.