He drove past the side of the library and headed in the direction of Nisshin.
Passing through a shopping street lined with abandoned bicycles, the car proceeded down a narrow alley along the railroad tracks. Hot and humid pop music was playing on the radio. Behind the shopping district, uniform old houses lined the street, as if they were once part of a development project. He parked his car on the street. Eventually, he spotted a house with a wood-grain nameplate on the front door. The name “Munakata” was written in worn letters.
What kind of life did Kanako lead as a high school student, and how did she end up disappearing? There were still countless unknowns. But if nothing else, he was beginning to grasp the direction in which to go.
She was a two-faced girl. On the one hand, she was a student with excellent grades who was applying to a prestigious university. On the other hand, she couldn’t stop using drugs, and she had one foot in the dark side of the law. What was more was, she didn’t stop at herself, she had probably gone and gotten her classmates hooked on stimulants. Nagano was an example. Kanako was a smart girl. In the beginning, she neglected eating properly and was indulging like an addict, but no wonder she learned how to come to terms with the situation instead of heading straight to death.
Generally, public portrayals of meth were extreme. Absolute psychological dependence and violent wakefulness. After hallucinations and delusions, users commit heinous crimes and are detained in hospitals. Yet, the reality was not so dramatic. It would take many years and a process of extreme abuse to reach that point.
Most of them had no money to last, and their access to it was closed off by the authorities, forcing some to quit naturally, while others continue to use it permanently for ten or twenty years.
Consequently, she may have been forced to disappear. He didn’t want to be right. But drugs are always accompanied by the shadow of gangsters. Unless she herself ran away, the truth was nothing but the ugliest.
He touched the doorbell. It seemed to be broken, and the bell did not ring. He knocked on the front door and called several times. Just as his knuckles were getting numb, he finally heard a noise on the other side of the door.
“Who is it?” said a middle-aged woman’s frail voice.
“The police.”
There was no reply at first. After a few moments of silence, the door was opened. It was a small woman in a wrinkled dress. Her hair was pulled back. But her face was neatly made up.
Still, it did not hide the scabs on her lips or the bleeding floating at the bottom of her eyeballs. She looked up at him, her eyes moving in a fine, frightened motion.
“Um…”
“I’m Fujishima of the Omiya Police Department.”
He showed her his business card from his former workplace. He had kept it for a long time, but never thought he would use it again. The woman who appeared to be Munakata’s mother did not ask to see his badge.
“Is Yasuhiro-kun here?”
“Did my son get into something again?”
“No, he didn’t do anything. I’m just here to talk to him about a man I think he knows, who was involved in a minor assault.”
She didn’t seem any less fearful. Her hand was shaking as she held the business card. The smell of simmering shoyu came from inside the house.
“Really?”
“Yes, so could I…”
“He’s off somewhere at the moment.”
“Off where?”
She shook her head emphatically. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know, myself.”
“Do you have any idea where he might be?”
“A few things come to mind, but he’s been away for three days.”
Three days ago. The same day Kanako disappeared.
She nodded. The Shiba River was a small river that ran through Omiya from north to east. The area around the river in Omiya No. 2 Park was surrounded by large fields and open spaces. At the end of August, a fireworks display was held there. On summer nights, the area had long been a favorite hangout for motorcycle gangs and juvenile delinquents.
“If he comes home, could you call? My cell-phone. Here, I wrote it down. I’m always away from the precinct.”
“Yes…”
“By the way, those wounds, were they caused by your son?”
A black cavernous oral cavity peeked out from a chipped right front tooth. She was wearing a long-sleeved dress, probably to hide some of the damage. As if repelled, her face turned up to deny it.
“You’re mistaken, it’s not like that. This…”
Suddenly, her expression froze, and she retreated hastily and closed the door.
He turned his attention to the small yard. A moped with no tires lay on the weed-strewn ground.
Oil cans and plastic bottles were scattered about, and a doghouse half-turned into wood shavings and a leash were left unattended. Everything was in disrepair, as if it were a true testament to the family’s environment.
He returned to his car and called the friends. Two answering machines. One was answered by an elderly man who was folks-home material. One call was answered by what appeared to be the mother of one of his friends, who strongly insisted that she had never heard of the building.
Through a narrow alleyway, he reached Route 16. The route plodded on, circling Saitama City. Eventually, he reached the Shiba River, with its vast open fields, and overgrown reeds. The sounds of children’s voices could be heard coming from the park’s outdoor swimming pool. The parking lot situated on the riverbank was already full, although only a third of it was filled with the wreckage of abandoned cars.
No tires, smashed glass, and sticky black-market flyers. Here and there, batteries, door mirrors, and parts were discarded. The concrete ground was covered with numerous tire tracks. As usual, the area remained a favorite spot for the gangs to hang out. During the day, the area was filled with cabs and company cars, all of them idling and running the air conditioner. But it wasn’t time yet for them.
He got into the car again. Then he called Matsushita and Nagano’s houses. The phone went straight to voicemail for Matsushita. Nagano’s phone was answered by someone who seemed to be her mother, who answered curtly that she was out.
He drove to the west exit of Omiya station. Three o’clock. Parking the car at the station’s rooftop parking lot, he walked to the prep school. Loud noises and crowds of people came from the shopping district. Hot weather. It was the same scenery and the same feeling as yesterday.
He quietly opened the classroom door. A lecture was in progress. The large classroom was packed with students. The colorful backs of their heads peeked out. He looked for black hair and golden brown hair.
Matsushita’s figure was by the window. Her black hair shone in the sunlight. Nagano was nowhere to be seen. Despite the enthusiasm of the lecturer, who was pounding the whiteboard with his fist, microphone in hand, she was gazing out in a daze.
Leaning against the door, he stared at her. Suddenly she looked back. Their gazes met. She looked surprised, but pretended not to know and turned to the whiteboard. With stiff cheekbones, she ran her pen over her notebook. But then, as if determined, she stood up vigorously and approached him. Come out quickly. A look like fire was about to leap out and a stance ready to drive him away, Nagano met him in the hall.
“What’s this?”
“Well if you run, I have to chase you, don’t I?”
“I didn’t run anywhere.”
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“Where’s orange-girl? I had something to say to her yesterday.”
“She didn’t come. She said she had a cold.”
“Her mother said she wasn’t home, though.”
“Oh, right…” Frustrated, she briefly clicked her tongue.
“Why don’t we quit this silly chase and talk about it? You’re hiding her.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Has Kanako contacted you at all?”
“Nothing.” A corridor with no sunlight. No people.
“Then let me talk to her. I’d rather talk to her than you.”
Her face turned red so clearly that it was visible even in the dark.
“What is it you want to talk about with her? I’ve said it a thousand times. We really don’t know where Kanako is.”
“Even if you don’t know where she is, you at least know what she’s been doing.”
“I don’t even know what you’re saying.”
“In Kanako’s room, there was a copious amount of drugs.”
She cautiously scrutinized Fujishima, like an inexperienced robber scoping out a hit. Sweat broke out on her red forehead.
Fujishima continued.
“Yesterday I was convinced. Your friend does meth. Am I right?”
Matsushita remained silent, glaring at him.
“Kanako was a dealer. Have you ever bought from her?”
“No. I’ve never done anything like that, not once.”
“I’m not a policeman. I’m not even blaming you. All I’m after is Kanako. And I have to see Nagano to find her; there’s no way around it.” He approached and made his case. Suddenly she backed away, breathing rapidly.
“…Kanako and I were friends. That girl couldn’t sing at karaoke to saved her life, but she was smart, and giving. She’s given me clothes, accessories, other stuff. I hate to admit it, but she was the friend I always wanted to brag about in front of others. Haven’t you ever felt that?”
“Yeah. She was the kind of girl that made you want to brag about her.”
“Kanako always brought…drugs. She just said they were for giving you a boost. There were a lot of people from real studying-heavy schools that wanted them. Their popularity boomed. Even though basically everybody knew it was speed.”
“And?”
“Then Kanako flipped around and got super stingy. She said it was getting harder to get, and started taking money for it. It went from from ten-thousand yen to twenty-thousand yen. Everyone was pissed off, but it wasn’t like they could report it as a scam. There were rumors that there was a gang backing her.”
“Apocalypse?”
With a sigh, she nodded.
She turned on her heel and put her hand on the classroom door.
“Wait.”
“I don’t give a shit what happens to Kanako.”
Fujishima reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Listen. My daughter’s life is at stake.”
Matsushita spun around, face pale. Her eyes were wide open, her whole body trembled, and her mouth parted as if to make a loud shout. He flinched. Then, all of a sudden, she stumbled and fell to the ground. Her dark hair covered her face, hiding her expression.
“Oi.”
He shook her shoulder as she lay on the floor. Her eyelids fluttered finely. She was clenching her teeth tightly.
“Oi!”
The girl’s face contorted in fear. Ready to scream at any moment, she sucked in a breath.
“Calm down. I’m not gonna do anything.”
She took several shallow breaths as she put her hands on the floor. Then she took a deep breath as if trying to regain her composure.
“I won’t do a thing.”
She nodded as if her strength had been drained.
“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”
“Aren’t you leaving?”
“Where’s Nagano holed up?”
“No idea.”
“If you’ve got no idea then why did you make a break for it?”
“No idea, I’m serious.”
Wiping away tears with a handkerchief, she grumbled in frustration.
“Yesterday, since you saw us, she was freaking out. She said she couldn’t even stay at home.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. It’s just, like, she finally started to be able to laugh again. Not like someone who was on speed. She was finally starting to get back on track, but…”
“So you’re hiding her without asking anything?”
“What else can I do?” she asked, her tone regretful.
“Let me see her.”
Wet eyes stared back at him.
“Can you wait a bit?”
“I can’t. It has to be today.”
“No. How can I guarantee you won’t hurt her?”
“Stop messing around.”
“I’m serious. Give her my number.”
He wrote his cell phone number on the back of his business card with a ballpoint pen and handed it over.
“What happened, back then?”
“Stop talking already…”
Matsushita registered the number on her cell phone, then crumpled up the business card and tossed it into the trash. Turning to run away from Fujishima, she fled into the women’s restroom.
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