Chapter 7: 5

The morning before yesterday.

Kanako left for her summer course at a prep school, as usual.

The night before yesterday.
Kiriko called home repeatedly from Iwanaka’s apartment, but was met with her own answering machine. Then she called Kanako’s cell phone, however, it was turned off and there was no answer. Kiriko went to work the next morning full of anxiety.

She called home and the cell several times during the workday, but there was no answer. At the end of the workday, Kiriko rushed home. When she learned that Kanako had not returned home, she called several of her friends who also attended the prep school. They told her that they parted ways since that evening she’d gone to the prep school, after stopping at a fast food restaurant. After that, nobody knew anything.
There was a school directory, but she was clueless as to who was a friend and who wasn’t. Contacting the school or the police came to mind, but she couldn’t take such a large step. She couldn’t do something that might affect her daughter’s future, or her own. The separation and divorce had done more than enough damage.
When the sun had completely set, she went to her daughter’s room. There, she found a certain bag in the back of the closet. She was so shocked at the contents that she lost track of time for a while. Then, she contacted her ex-husband, who was already fading from memory.

Fujishima asked about his daughter’s friends. The only friends Kiriko mentioned were classmates who went to the same prep school, and childhood friends. There were few.
“That it? What about a boy?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“Who?”
“How could I possibly know that?”
“What type of guy do you think he is?”
“Like I said, I don’t know if there is or not…”
Kiriko’s cheeks reddened. She noticed the contempt in his eyes.
“What am I to do? Nowadays, they all use cell phones and computers to talk. There’s no room for us to figure out. But…”
She tilted her head back thoughtfully.
“I’m sure there was. Not a boy her age. One older than her.”
“Why?”
“Just intuition. I don’t have proof. But really, compared to other girls her age, what can I say? She was… too smart for her own good.”
Kanako’s toiletries and cosmetics were still in the bathroom. When he asked Kiriko to check them, she let out a thin sigh, her expression hardening.

He returned to his daughter’s room and did a second sweep, from top to bottom. He asked her to inspect each item thoroughly. He questioned her about the clothes in the closet. Half of them she had bought for her, but the other half of them she had no idea where they came from.
“Did she have a part-time job?”
Kiriko shook her head. Working was forbidden by her school, she explained, and there was no indication that she had ever done such a thing. Fujishima pinched the clothes and asked.
“This pricy brand-name stuff?”
“I think it probably is, but I don’t know for sure.”
Kiriko was vague in her answer. A high school student, not rich or employed, doesn’t exactly have many means to buy expensive clothes. But then again, there could have been an older man. The faces of the girls who had been pulled into the precinct and the police station came to mind. He had never asked them if they were selling their bodies. Yet he still resisted the idea of including his own daughter as one of them.

There was a cream-colored pouch in the bottom drawer of the desk. In it was a paper bag containing aluminum-wrapped capsules and powder medication.
“Was she sick, somewhere?”

Kiriko looked unsure. On the paper bag the name of the pharmacy was imprinted. Inside, a piece of paper with a neurology department’s name on it.
The contents, he understood, were sleeping pills, anti-anxiety drugs, and antidepressants of some kind. All three of them, parents and child, were drug addicts, he mocked himself. After all, alcohol is a fine drug in itself.

On the bottom row of the bookshelf were a few simple albums, the kind that a photographer would give you when he developed the film.
Sandwiched between them were photos that appeared to be taken with friends and classmates. Her black hair was longer than her shoulders, and she was taller than the rest of her classmates. School trips, cultural festivals, athletic meets──
Gradually working backward in time, he came upon her wearing the uniform of her junior high school days. There was a familiar face in the picture, slightly childish, from a time when they still talked to each other to a certain degree.
The last book. The photographs were few and sparsely arranged in the album. He stopped turning the pages and furrowed his brow.
“Oi.”
He showed the album to Kiriko, who was standing there as if distracted.
“Who’s this guy?”
In all the photos, there was one boy. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Kanako in junior high school, smiling shyly. There was even a shot of the boy alone waving at the camera, perhaps taken by Kanako herself.
“Ogata-kun…”

“Ogata?”
He was shorter than Kanako, with fair skin and red lips. His body was thin, lending the impression that he was somewhat frail. Although his school uniform identified him as a boy, his bangs fell to his eyebrows, and his figure was slim, almost girlish.
The photos were enough to infer that they were close. Maybe they even fell in love. Kanako was more radiant and lovely than in any of the other photographs. Fujishima took plenty of time to look at them. Before long, he felt a strange, foolish jealousy rising in his heart toward this Ogata boy.
Kiriko stared at it for a moment, then shook her head and returned the album.
“What is it?”
“He was Kanako’s classmate in junior high, but… he isn’t with us any more.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s dead.”
Fujishima looked at his ex-wife. She was trying to keep her face expressionless. Fujishima looked down at the picture. There she was, smiling against the blue sky. The Kanako who’d lost him. Not once had he noticed her.

He cracked open his notebook and glanced again at the photo he had clipped there. Sipping the nutritional drink he had just bought, a sweet taste slid down his throat. He stood in front of a convenience store near the west exit of Omiya Station. The clock was past twelve. He shoved the bottle into the garbage bin, where it reeked of rotten food. It was lunchtime, and the store, which was not very large, was crowded with many prep school students.
Everyone was carrying lunch boxes and plastic bottles. The store clerks were single-mindedly working the cash registers, and customers were huddled together in the heat to complete their purchases. Fujishima paid close attention to the area. He was told that the three neighboring police departments, including the local jurisdiction, had all of their regional divisions off-duty and were mobilizing all hands on deck to reinforce patrols of convenience stores. There were no police officers in sight.

Businessmen and students drifted about in the post-lunch siesta mood, and elderly women were enjoying shopping at the department stores. The shopping building in front of the station’s west exit was playing music at a volume so strong that it was almost as intense as the sunlight, creating an even hotter atmosphere. Then the girls in the photo came out of the convenience store.
“Hey.”
When he called out to them, Emi Matsushita and Tomoko Nagano had suspicious and irritated looks on their faces, unlike their photographs. What with the location and all, they must have mistaken him for a scout.

Both were dressed simply in short T-shirts and jeans that revealed the lines of their bodies. Matsushita, who was already long-legged, was wearing thick-soled platform sandals, making her almost as tall as Fujishima. She had black shoulder-length hair and a face that gave a winning impression.
Nagano wore a short camouflage patterned T-shirt that almost showed her navel and a silver choker as well. She had gold earrings and short golden brown hair. Despite her colorful appearance, she had a thin body that looked as if it could be blown away by the wind at any moment. In the eyes that looked up at this new stranger, there were hints of fear and trepidation.
“Wait a sec.”
Matsushita, with her long, model-like arms and legs, looked back at him with unafraid eyes, as if being accosted was not unusual for her.
“He’s Kanako’s dad.”

Matsushita took one look at him, as if to gauge his level of value, and raised her eyebrows lightly. There was no sign of surprise. Amber-haired Nagano moved back behind the other with a stiff look on her face.
“Is Kanako back home?”
Matsushita asked, chewing gum. Fujishima shook his head.
“Have you two heard from her?”
“No, nothing. We’ve been calling her cell for a while now.”
Nagano nodded in agreement behind Matsushita. She was like a princess shielded by a lady prince.

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They were the first two people Kiriko contacted. The girls were high school classmates, Matsushita commuting from Kamio and Nagano from Yono to school and prep school. Many of Kanako’s photographs were taken as a set with these girls. They attended the same prep school, worked together on school trips, and spent time together at cultural festivals.
“So?” Matsushita said, lifting her shoulder.
Fujishima put his hand to his forehead and shaded his eyes from the sun, unable to resist any longer. In fact, his skull was beginning to heat up like a burnt griddle. With his chin, he pointed to a sign for a fast-food restaurant a few doors down.
“Could I ask you a couple questions?”
“But…”
Matsushita lifted the brown convenience store bag she had just acquired.
“Please, help me out.”
Matsushita sighed in a what-do-to-do? manner. They exchanged looks as if they were troubled. Nagano had a stiff look on her face as she looked at her friend. Even though there were no actual words, she was conveying her desire to get out of there as soon as possible. What great friends you have! Fujishima remarked to the invisible Kanako.

“We don’t have any clue where she went, either. We’re worried too, but…”
“No hassle. All you need to do is answer some questions.”
Matsushita narrowed her eyes.
“Is this like, your job?”
“Huh?”
“I remember now. You’re a detective, aren’t you? Kanako said so.”
“I’m not in the police force anymore.”
“Then have you told them yet? The police.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Should I go ahead and call ‘em?”
“Well… I dunno about that. But aren’t you worried?” Matsushita’s lips twitched. He leaned in close and told her in an offhanded tone, “I’m worried. That’s why I’m walking around asking.”
A group of middle-aged women carrying paper bags from a department store passed by them with disturbed glances. Fujishima inclined his head to the girl behind her.
“Please.”
Nagano’s gaze was fixed on the asphalt.
“Well, okay, but…”
Matsushita interrupted her and gave her a strong-willed look. There was a hint of a resemblance to Kanako. He had once received a similar look from his daughter.

He entered the crowded fast food restaurant and let them find a table. Then he sat down, holding a tray with a cup of coffee on it.
“Is there anything that you remember? Other than what you told her mother.”
“I couldn’t say.”
“How about you?”
Fujishima turned to Nagano. A low, muffled voice responded. He had no choice but to repeat his question.
“I don’t know anything either…”
“Tell me again about the day before yesterday. How did you spend your time?”
“Umm──”
He raised his hand to stop Matsushita, who was about to answer, and pointed to Nagano.
“I’m asking her.”
Matsushita gasped in surprise and then fell silent, letting off an indignant huff as if she had been insulted.

“You were at the prep school together that day, weren’t you?”
“We were only together in the morning.”
On the other side, Matsushita nodded, her mouth ajar.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Kanako and us are all in liberal arts courses, so in the morning the three of us would take English lectures together, but in the afternoon we would separate. Kanako’s going to a national university, so in the afternoon, she went to math and stuff like that.”

“Didn’t ya’ go home together?”
“That’s usually the case, but…”
Nagano falteringly chose her words.
“I was waiting there the day before yesterday, but she didn’t come at all that day. I thought she must have gone home first.”
“So where did she go?”
Matsushita tapped the table with her finger in frustration.
“Didn’t she just say? She thought she went home.”
“She didn’t come home. So where do you think she went?”
“Where she goes, where she’s going, I don’t keep track of that stuff. We’re not together year-round, you know.”

He asked question after question. He wanted them to have as little time to think as possible.
“Did she have a man? Anybody in particular?”
Matsushita snickered.
“Kanako? No way.”
“What’s so funny?”

“Huh?”
“I’m seriously asking. Unless, of course, you guys are covering for her.”
“Covering? Us?”
Housewives with children were looking back at them. Matsushita looked up at the ceiling in disappointment and stood up.
“Let’s go. I feel like a criminal.”
“We’re not done talking yet. Sit back down.”
“Don’t order me around.”

Clamor and static. The jarring pop music struck a nerve. Fujishima wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and lowered his head.
“My bad. I apologize.”
Matsushita, who had been hovering, sat down with a miffed look on her face.
Fujishima spoke.
“She didn’t leave home. Someone took her.”
“Why do you say that? Isn’t she just out somewhere for a breath of fresh air? Study, study, study, that’s all she ever does… wasn’t she cooked?”
“But my daughter had an income. Was she selling herself?”
“You, are you really her father?” Matsushita’s face contorted in disgust.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Shaking, with her eyes tightly closed, Nagano expressed her anger. “She has every reason to ask that.”
“Unbelievable.” The brass-haired girl could not hold back her tears.
“A man, there might be one.” Matsushita spoke up.
“What’s that?”
“I said there might be one. You were asking if there was one in particular.”
“And who might that be?”
“Beats me. Kanako didn’t tell us. We were pissed too. Kanako was avoiding us. She doesn’t answer her cell phone much, and she’s not very social. It’s been like that since before summer vacation. Days like the day before yesterday were not unusual for her. I had always thought she was a selfish girl, but I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. It’s just a hunch, but maybe she’s on a trip with that guy. It’s summer.”

“Do you think so too?”
Nagano shook her head, wiping away tears. “I…”
“She’ll come back when she’s had enough. Is that all? We need to get going.”
“You don’t know Kanako that well either, huh? Despite the fact you’re supposed to be friends.”
Fujishima provoked them, but Matsushita, standing up, only smiled thinly.
“Who said we were friends?”
Fujishima was at a loss for words. Matsushita went down the aisle with a convenience store bag hanging from her arm. Nagano followed her.
At the last moment, Fujishima grabbed Nagano’s elbow. His fingers trace the thin, hard bone in his palm. His eyes traveled to the inside of her elbow.
Nagano’s body froze. Turning hostile at once, Matsushita closed the distance with a broad step and stretched out Fujishima’s cheeks.

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