asagaki’s coat whipped in the breeze as he stepped off the bus. It had been relatively warm until the day before, but this morning had brought a sudden chill to the city streets. Or maybe, he mused, it was just that Tokyo was a lot colder than Osaka.

He walked along the now-familiar route until he reached his destination, where he paused to check his watch. Four in the afternoon, right on time. He would have come earlier but he’d had to take a detour to a department store in Shinjuku to buy the contents of the small bag he carried in one hand.

He walked up the stairs to the second floor, feeling a little pain in his right knee. It had started bothering him several years ago – he couldn’t remember exactly when – and had proven a reliable indicator of the changing seasons.

He stopped in front of a door with a plate that read IMAEDA DETECTIVE AGENCY. The plate sparkled, having been recently cleaned. Anyone who didn’t know any better might think the agency was still in business.

Sasagaki pressed the doorbell and heard someone moving inside, probably checking him out through the spyhole.

He heard the door unlock and it opened to reveal a smiling Eri Sugawara. ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d never make it.’

‘The line was out the door,’ he said, holding up the package.

‘Oh, fantastic! You got it!’ She took the bag from him and immediately opened it up to examine the contents. ‘Mmm. That is one fine-looking cherry pie.’

‘What is it with cherry pies?’

‘It’s the big thing right now. Because of Twin Peaks.’

‘I’m not sure what that means,’ the detective said, ‘but wasn’t tiramisu the big thing just a couple of months ago? When did that change?’

‘Don’t strain yourself trying to keep up with the trends, I’ll handle that. But first, some pie. You want some? I put coffee on.’

‘Coffee sounds nice.’

‘OK!’ Eri said brightly, heading into the kitchen.

Sasagaki took off his coat. The place had hardly changed from the time it had been a functioning agency. The steel shelves and cabinet were all in the same places. The only difference was that now there was a television in one corner and the number of knick-knacks had grown. These new arrivals belonged to Eri.

‘How many days are you here this time?’ she asked.

‘Three, maybe four. Can’t leave my place sitting empty for much longer.’

‘How much can you really get accomplished in so short a time?’

‘We work with what we have.’

Sasagaki pulled out a box of Seven Stars and lit one with a match. He threw the spent match in a glass ashtray sitting on Imaeda’s desk. The surface of the steel desk had been perfectly cleaned. If Imaeda came walking back into the door, he could get right back to work. Except the desk calendar was still on August from the year before – the month when Imaeda disappeared. It was hard to believe it had already been over a year.

Sasagaki beat a little rhythm with his feet and hummed a tune, watching Eri go to work on the cherry pie. She always looked so cheerful and optimistic, but he knew she was in pain, deep down, and it bothered him. She must have accepted the fact that Imaeda was dead and yet that hadn’t kept her from waiting for him to return.

It had been almost exactly a year ago when Sasagaki first met her. He’d come back to see if anything had changed with the apartment and found the young woman living there.

She had been extremely wary of him at first, but he’d introduced himself as a detective and told her that he had met Imaeda just before his disappearance, which seemed to warm her up to him a little.

Though she hadn’t ever admitted as much, he suspected Eri had been involved in a romantic relationship with Imaeda. She was fervent in her efforts to find him. She had even got rid of her own apartment and moved into the office because she wanted to be able to keep tabs on anything with a direct connection to him. Here, she could read his mail and meet anyone who came to see him. Thankfully, the landlord didn’t seem to mind. Having someone in the place was better than a missing tenant who didn’t pay rent.

Since meeting her that first time, Sasagaki had always made a point of stopping in whenever he visited Tokyo. She was helpful, giving him tips about how to get around the unfamiliar city and keeping him up to date on the latest trends. She was a good conversationalist, too, and Sasagaki genuinely enjoyed the time spent talking with her.

Eri brought a tray with two mugs and two small plates, on to which she put two slices of cherry pie. She sat the tray down on Imaeda’s steel desk.

‘Dig in!’ she said, holding a blue mug out towards Sasagaki.

‘Thanks,’ he said, accepting it and taking a sip. Nothing like hot coffee to chase the chill out of the bones, he thought.

Eri sat down in Imaeda’s chair and took a bite of her cherry pie. She chewed enthusiastically, giving Sasagaki the thumbs-up.

‘So, anything to report?’ Sasagaki asked. Even though it was the same question every visit, he’d been working up the courage to ask it since he walked through the door.

The faintest cloud came over Eri’s features. She set her fork back on the dish and took a sip of her coffee.

‘Nothing you’d be interested in, unfortunately. I hardly get any letters any more and most of the calls are just new customers, looking to hire a private eye.’

She had kept Imaeda’s phone line connected and listed. Eri was paying the bills.

‘So nobody’s dropping by the office these days?’

‘Not really. There were a bunch of callers at the beginning of the year, but that tapered off.’ Eri reached over to the desk and pulled a notebook out of the drawer. ‘We had one more in the summer, and another in September. Both women. The one in summer was a repeater.’

‘Repeater?’

‘Someone who’d asked Mr Imaeda to do work before. Her name’s Kawakami. She looked pretty disappointed when I told her Imaeda was on an extended stay in the hospital. I looked into it and she’d had him investigate her husband for cheating two years ago. He hadn’t found any conclusive evidence at the time, so I wonder if she didn’t want him to try again. Her husband probably got back into the action,’ Eri said, looking cheery. Sasagaki had guessed before that part of the reason why she had helped with Imaeda’s work was that she liked digging into other people’s secrets. Her smile seemed to confirm that.

‘What about the person who came in September? Another repeater?’

‘No, not her. She wanted to know if someone had made a request here.’

‘What’s that mean?’

‘Well,’ Eri looked up from her notebook. ‘Specifically, she wanted to know if someone named Akiyoshi had come in to make a request about a year earlier.’

Sasagaki frowned. The name Akiyoshi sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. ‘That’s an odd question.’

‘Not that unusual,’ Eri said with a grin. ‘This is something I heard from Mr Imaeda, but apparently some people who have affairs get to wondering whether their spouse has hired a detective to check up on them. I think she might’ve been one of those. She must have found some evidence that her husband had hired Imaeda, or at least visited the agency, and came to find out.’

‘You sound pretty sure about that.’

‘I have a sense for these things,’ she said. ‘Also, when I told her I would look into it and get back to her, she didn’t give me her home address, but her work address. Suspicious, right? She doesn’t want her husband to pick up the phone.’

‘And what was this woman’s name?’

‘She told me it was Kurihara. I’m guessing that’s her maiden name, the one she uses at work. A lot of women do that these days.’

Sasagaki shook his head. ‘Well, I’m impressed. Eri, you’d make a good private eye. Heck, you’d make a good police detective.’

Eri laughed and shook her head at that. ‘I’ll tell you my next bit of conjecture, then. This Kurihara woman is a pharmacist at the Imperial University Hospital, see? So she’s having an affair with a doctor. And the person she’s having an affair with has a family. That’s what I think. Double infidelity!’

‘I think you’ve gone past conjecture and into fantasy,’ Sasagaki said, managing to frown and chuckle at the same time.

It was already seven at night when Sasagaki walked into the lobby of his hotel in Shinjuku.

It was a drab place, dimly lit. Even calling it a lobby was being generous – there was just a long desk that served as the reception. A middle-aged man who didn’t look particularly well suited for the hospitality industry stood behind it, a scowl on his face. It wasn’t Sasagaki’s first pick for lodgings but he didn’t really have a choice if he was going to stay in Tokyo for several days. In truth, even this was a bit of a financial stretch, but he couldn’t stand those new capsule hotels. The cramped quarters and shared facilities weren’t easy on his old body: he felt more exhausted when he woke up than when he went to sleep. Even if it was plain to the point of desolate, he preferred a private room where he could relax.

He checked in and was surprised to hear there was a message for him. The receptionist passed him a white envelope together with his key.

Sasagaki opened the envelope and looked inside. Within was a piece of notepaper with a message that read: ‘Call 308.’

Sasagaki frowned, wondering who it could be.

His room was 321, on the same floor as whoever had left him the message. He stopped in front of room 308 on his way from the elevator. After a moment’s hesitation, he knocked and immediately heard the sound of someone shuffling to the door on the other side.

Sasagaki gaped when the door opened to reveal Hisashi Koga.

‘Well, you sure took your time,’ his former subordinate said.

‘What?’ Sasagaki said, stammering a little. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘This and that. Mostly waiting for you, old man. You eat yet?’

‘No.’

‘Great, let’s go get something. You can leave your stuff in my room.’ He took Sasagaki’s things and opened the narrow closet in his room to pull out his jacket and coat. ‘Got a preference for dinner?’

‘Anything but French,’ Sasagaki replied.

They ended up at a street corner place serving Japanese food with seating at four low tables on tatami mats in the back. They picked a table and sat across from each other. Koga mentioned he often came here when he was in Tokyo, and recommended the stew and the sashimi.

Koga ordered some beer and Sasagaki let him pour. He offered to pour for Koga, who refused and filled his own cup. After offering Koga a toast, Sasagaki asked, ‘So what’s this all about?’

‘There was a meeting at Tokyo Police Headquarters. Normally the section chief would go, but he wasn’t available so they sent me up here.’

‘You’re moving up in the world. Congratulations,’ Sasagaki said, his chopsticks aiming for a particularly tempting piece of fatty tuna. It was as good as it looked.

Koga had gone from being one of Sasagaki’s subordinates to head of Homicide in Osaka. Sasagaki knew there were some who viewed his rise through the ranks as nothing more than the achievement of a sycophant with a knack for aceing exams. But Koga had never shirked his duty. He worked as hard as anyone else at the station and studied harder for those advancement exams than the rest of them put together.

‘I’m still at a bit of a loss,’ Sasagaki said. ‘Surely you have better things to do than chew the fat here with me. Not to mention stay at that cheap-ass hotel.’

Koga chuckled. ‘It is pretty cheap-ass, isn’t it? Why do you stay there?’

‘Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to. I’m not here on vacation.’

‘That’s the problem,’ Koga said. ‘If you were here on vacation, I’d have nothing to say. But when I think about the most likely reason you’re up here, well, it’s hard for me to smile. Your wife’s pretty worried, too.’

‘So Katsuko put you up to this? What does she think you are, her errand boy?’

‘She didn’t ask me to come up. We were just talking about things, and she mentioned it.’

‘Same difference. She gave you your orders, admit it. Or was it Orie?’

‘I think it’s safe to say that everyone’s concerned.’

‘Great,’ Sasagaki snorted.

In addition to their relationship at work, Koga and Sasagaki were now actually related after Koga’s marriage to his wife’s niece, Orie. On the surface it was a coincidence. Apparently the two of them had just happened to meet and fall in love, but Sasagaki had always suspected Katsuko of pulling some strings.

Their beer bottles drained, Koga ordered some sake. Sasagaki started on his stew. The miso flavouring was a Tokyo thing, but he found it pretty good all the same.

The sake arrived and Koga poured some into Sasagaki’s cup, saying, ‘So, still on about that old case?’

‘It’s my cross to bear.’

‘Why this one? There are other unsolved cases out there. And this one stands a good chance of actually being unsolvable. What if that guy who died in the traffic accident was the killer? That seemed to be the prevailing opinion in the department.’

‘Terasaki didn’t do it,’ Sasagaki said firmly, tossing back his cup. Despite the nearly two decades that had passed since the pawnbroker had been found stabbed to death in that abandoned building, he still remembered the names of everyone involved.

‘We must have searched his place a hundred times, and there was never any sign of that million yen Kirihara was carrying. I don’t buy that he hid it either, like some people are saying. Terasaki was deep in debt. If he came into that kind of money, he would have turned it around as quick as he could. Which leads me to think that he never had the money, which leads me to think that he wasn’t the one who stabbed him.’

Koga nodded. ‘I agree with your basic premise – I do. That’s why I kept making the rounds with you even after Terasaki died. But there’s making the rounds, and then there’s walking in the same wheel rut for twenty years.’

‘I know the statute of limitations is up on the case. But I’m not dying until I’ve cleaned it up, one way or the other.’

Koga tried to fill Sasagaki’s empty cup, but Sasagaki stopped him and snatched the decanter from his hand. He filled Koga’s cup to the brim before filling his own.

‘You’re right that it’s not the only unsolved case. There are bigger, more brutal cases out there where we haven’t caught so much as a hair off the perp’s head. And none of them sit well with me. But the pawnbroker’s different, because we had our chance and we blew it, and people have suffered for our mistake for years – people that had nothing to do with the pawnbroker at all.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean we should have nipped this thing in the bud when we had a chance. And because we didn’t, it grew and began to bloom into an evil, evil flower,’ Sasagaki said with a frown, pouring back some sake.

Koga loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. ‘You’re talking about Yukiho Karasawa.’

Sasagaki reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and placed it on the table in front of Koga.

‘What’s that?’

‘Take a look.’

Koga unfolded the paper. A deep line formed between his thick eyebrows. ‘R&Y Osaka Now Opening?’

‘Yukiho Karasawa’s store. It’s a big deal. They finally made it down to Osaka, near Shinsaibashi. And take a look: the big opening’s on Christmas Eve this year.’

‘Is this that evil flower, then?’ Koga asked, carefully folding the pamphlet and pushing it in front of Sasagaki.

‘It’s more like the fruit.’

‘Remind me when you started to suspect Yukiho Karasawa? Or was she Yukiho Nishimoto at the time?’

‘Still Nishimoto. You may recall that Fumiyo Nishimoto died the year after Yosuke Kirihara. That’s what started it.’

‘And yet that was ruled an accidental death. Which you never believed.’

‘The victim drank sake, which she never drank, and took more than five times the normal dose of sleeping pills. I wouldn’t call that accidental. Unfortunately, I wasn’t on the task force, so I didn’t have much say in how it was handled.’

‘Wasn’t there talk of suicide?’ Koga crossed his arms, thinking back over the years.

‘Yukiho’s testimony put an end to the suicide theory. She said her mother always drank a little sake whenever she had a cold.’

‘Most people wouldn’t suspect an elementary-school-aged daughter of lying about her own mother’s death.’

‘No one else except for her said Fumiyo had a cold.’

‘But why would she do that? What difference would it make to Yukiho whether it was a suicide or an accident? There was no life insurance payout. And what kind of kid thinks about that sort of thing in the first place?’ Koga’s eyes widened. ‘Wait, you don’t think Yukiho killed her own mother?’ He was half-joking when he said it, but Sasagaki didn’t smile.

‘I wouldn’t go that far. But she could have been involved.’

‘How so?’

‘Ignoring obvious signs that her mother was contemplating suicide, for one.’

‘You think she wanted her mother to die?’

‘Yukiho didn’t waste much time moving in with Reiko Karasawa. They might’ve been talking about that move before the time came, even. Maybe Yukiho wanted to leave, but Fumiyo was holding her back.’

‘You think she’d just abandon her mother like that?’

‘She’s capable, yes. And she’d have a reason to want to hide the fact that her mother had committed suicide: an accidental death and everyone around her is sympathetic. But if word got out it was suicide, it would colour their opinion of her, too. Not hard to figure which one she’d pick.’

‘Look, Sasagaki, what you’re saying makes sense… but it all feels like a stretch, if you know what I mean.’ Koga ordered two more bottles of sake.

‘It took me a while following in Yukiho’s footsteps before I started putting things together – hey, this is pretty good. What’s this tempura?’ Sasagaki asked, staring at the small piece of fried food between his chopsticks.

‘What do you think it is?’ Koga asked with a grin.

‘I don’t know, that’s why I asked. Never tasted anything like it.’

‘It’s natto.’

‘What, that rotting bean stuff they eat up here?’

‘You got it,’ Koga said. ‘I knew you’d never eat it if you knew what it was.’

Sasagaki grunted. ‘They’re not so slimy when you do them up like this,’ he said, taking another mouthful. ‘Pretty good, actually.’

‘See? It pays to not have any preconceived notions about things. You never know until you try.’

‘You don’t say?’ Sasagaki said, drinking some sake. He could feel the warmth spreading down to his toes. ‘Speaking of preconceived notions, that’s exactly what tripped me up with this case. See, it was only when I started to realise that Yukiho wasn’t your average kid and looked back on the case of the murdered pawnbroker that I realised I’d overlooked something vital.’

‘What’s that?’ Koga said, a serious look in his eyes.

Sasagaki stared back at him. ‘Footprints, for one.’

‘Footprints?’

‘Yeah, the footprints at the scene where the body was found. The place was covered in dust, so there were a lot of footprints on the ground. But I never paid much attention to them. You remember why?’

‘Because we didn’t find any that looked like they belonged to the murderer,’ Koga replied.

Sasagaki nodded. ‘The only footprints at the scene, other than those made by the leather shoes of the victim, were made by kids’ sneakers. And we knew the kids played in there, and it was some kid from Ōe Elementary who discovered the body, so what’s so strange about some sneaker marks? That was where I was wrong.’

‘You mean the murderer was wearing kids’ sneakers?’

‘Don’t you think it was a little careless to not even consider the possibility?’

Koga frowned. ‘A kid couldn’t have pulled that murder off.’

‘Or maybe being a kid is how they pulled it off. Caught Kirihara off guard.’

‘But…’

‘There’s another thing I overlooked,’ Sasagaki said, putting down his chopsticks and sticking up a finger. ‘Alibis.’

‘Go on.’

‘When Fumiyo Nishimoto’s alibi checked out we immediately started checking for an accomplice. That’s when we hit on Terasaki, but there was someone else we should have looked at first.’

Koga rubbed his chin. ‘Wasn’t Yukiho at the library at the time?’

Sasagaki stared the younger detective in the face. ‘Good memory.’

Koga chuckled dryly. ‘Don’t tell me you’re one of the ones who thinks I care more about my rank than my work.’

‘Never crossed my mind. I didn’t think any of the other detectives remembered where Yukiho had been that day. But like you said, she was at the library. I looked into it and found out that that library is pretty darn close to the scene of the crime. She would’ve had to pass in front of that abandoned building on her way home.’

‘I see where you’re going with this, but come on – what age is that?’

‘Eleven years old. Old enough to know the deal.’ Sasagaki opened his box of Seven Stars and put one in his mouth. He began to look for a match.

Koga’s hand shot out with a lighter. ‘I’m not so sure,’ he said, lighting the old detective’s cigarette. The expensive lighter had a satisfying click.

Sasagaki nodded his thanks, then blowing a puff of white smoke he looked down at the lighter in Koga’s hands. ‘That a Dunhill?’

‘Cartier, actually.’

Sasagaki snorted. ‘Remember that Dunhill we found in Terasaki’s car after the accident?’

‘The one they thought might have belonged to the pawnbroker, right? Never did figure that one out, as I recall.’

‘That was my theory, that it belonged to Kirihara. But Terasaki wasn’t the murderer. I think it’s more likely that someone who wanted to make it look like he did it snuck it into his place, or sold him some story and gave it to him.’

‘And you think that was Yukiho?’

‘That would make the most sense. I’d say it’s even more likely than Terasaki just happening to own the same lighter as Kirihara.’

Koga sighed, a sigh that gradually turned into a groan. ‘Look, I admire your flexibility in even considering the possibility that Yukiho is behind all this. It’s true, we might have cut some corners because she was a kid. But without anything more conclusive, this is really just another theory. You have any evidence that she was the one who did it?’

‘Well…’ Sasagaki said, taking a deep drag on his cigarette and slowly exhaling. The smoke floated over Koga’s head before dispersing. ‘I’d have to say no. I don’t have evidence.’

‘Then maybe you better rethink this whole thing from the beginning. And, I’m sorry, but the statute of limitations is up on the case. Even if you did find the real killer, there’s nothing we can do.’

‘I know that.’

‘Well?’

‘Well, listen,’ Sasagaki said, snuffing his cigarette out. He glanced round, making sure no one was listening to them. ‘This is bigger than the question of whoever killed the pawnbroker. I’m not just after Yukiho Karasawa.’

‘Who else would you be after?’ Koga asked, a sharp light in his eyes.

‘I’m after both of them,’ Sasagaki said, a wry smile on his face. ‘The goby and the shrimp.’

The first patients were admitted for consultations at the Imperial University Hospital at nine, but there was always a considerable lag time before the first prescriptions came into the system.

Whenever one came through, they would work on it in pairs. One would measure out the medicine, the other would check for any mistakes and bag it. The checker would stamp the sealed package when the prescription was complete.

In addition to outpatient requests, they would get work from the wards as well. There were emergency medicine deliveries, and occasionally carting around IVs.

Today, there was someone else in the pharmacy besides Noriko and her partner: a man who sat in the corner staring at a computer terminal. He was a young assistant professor in the medical department.

For two years Imperial University had been taking steps to connect their computers with those at other research facilities. The biggest of these connections was a permanent online channel between their office and the central research facility of a pharmaceutical manufacturer. Whenever they needed to know anything about any of the drugs handled by that company, they could check the data instantly.

Anyone with an ID and a password could use the system. Noriko had both, but she had never touched the thing. Whenever she needed to know something about a medicine she called the pharmaceutical company up, the way they had always done. Most of the other pharmacists did the same.

The assistant professor currently working the terminal was engaged in a joint research project with the pharmaceutical company. Noriko agreed that their kind of system would be extremely handy for someone in his position – though it wasn’t perfect. They’d had a bunch of technicians in just the other day discussing the latest issue with the doctors on staff: a recent hacking attempt on their system. Noriko wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but it didn’t sound good and it did little to instil faith.

After lunch she made the rounds helping inpatients with their daily dosages and talking to doctors and nurses about the drugs they were using. Then she went back to the pharmacy to measure out more dosages. Five o’clock came quickly.

She was just getting ready to leave when one of her colleagues stopped her – a phone call for Noriko, she said.

Noriko’s heart fluttered.

‘Yes?’ she said, picking up the receiver. Her voice was a little hoarse.

‘Noriko? Noriko Kurihara?’ It was a man’s voice, but not the one she had been hoping to hear. The voice was thin and made her think of illness. It was also somehow familiar.

‘Yes?’ she replied.

‘I wonder if you remember me. It’s me, Fujii. Tamotsu Fujii.’

‘Mr Fujii?’ She remembered. He was one of the men she’d met through the matchmaking service – the one with the mother suffering from dementia.

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘how have you been?’

‘Fine, fine. You sound well.’

‘Yes, um, can I help you?’

‘Well, I’m calling from very close to the hospital. Actually, I stepped in a few moments ago and saw you – have you been eating properly? You’re a little on the skinny side.’

He chuckled, and the sound sent a chill down her spine.

‘I was hoping we could meet up,’ he said. ‘Maybe have tea?’

Noriko rolled her eyes. What, he wants another date?

‘I’m sorry, but I have plans today.’

‘It would only be for a bit. There’s something I really need to talk to you about. Can you spare even a little time? Thirty minutes?’

Noriko sighed loudly for effect. ‘Really, I don’t have time. I can’t even have you calling me here like this. I’m going to hang up.’

‘No, sorry, wait. At least answer one question, just one? Are you still living with that man?’

‘What?’

‘Just, if you’re still living with that man you’ve been living with there’s something I really need to talk to you about.’

Noriko cupped her hand over her mouth and the receiver, lowering her voice. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘That’s what I want to tell you, in person.’

Noriko hesitated, but he had piqued her curiosity. ‘OK. Where should I go?’

Fujii told her to meet him at a café just a few minutes’ walk from the hospital, near Ogikubo Station.

She went in and saw him sitting at a table near the back. He was thin, with buggy eyes that made her think of a praying mantis. He was wearing a grey suit, his jacket hanging on the wall behind him.

‘Long time no see,’ Noriko said, sitting down across from him.

‘I’m so sorry to call out of the blue like that.’

‘What’s this all about?’

‘Please, order something first.’

‘I’m fine. I need to leave soon, so please, just say what you have to say.’

‘It’s not that simple,’ Fujii said, calling the waitress over and ordering a milk tea. He looked at Noriko and smiled. ‘You liked tea, didn’t you?’

She didn’t remember anything she’d ordered on their last date. The fact that he did made her feel uncomfortable.

‘How’s your mom?’ she asked, hoping to put him on the spot.

The man’s face darkened and he shook his head. ‘She died. A few months ago.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry. Was it her illness?’

‘Not really, it was an accident. She choked.’

‘That’s horrible. Choking on food is pretty common, though.’

‘Well, it was cotton.’

‘Cotton?’

‘I only took my eyes off her for a moment and she started eating the stuffing out of a cotton comforter I’d put over her. I have no idea why she did it. When I took it out, it was larger than a softball. Can you believe it?’

Noriko shook her head. No, I cannot believe you’re telling me this.

‘I was so overcome, I didn’t know what to do for a little while, but then I realised that there was also a kind of relief, you know? I thought: now I won’t have to worry about her all the time.’ He sighed.

Noriko understood how he felt. She’d seen more than her share of families exhausted by having to take care of elderly relatives. Still, she wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with her.

The waitress brought her milk tea. She took a sip and Fujii’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen you drinking tea.’

Noriko looked down at the table.

‘There was another thing I thought, probably inappropriately, after my mother died,’ he continued. ‘That is, I thought someone might think of dating me again. I don’t mean just anyone, of course. I mean you.’

‘That was a long time ago.’

‘But I never forgot you. And I went to your apartment. It was about a month after my mother died. That’s when I found out you were living with someone. It came as a bit of a shock. But I was also very surprised when I saw him.’

Noriko frowned and stared at him. ‘Surprised? Why?’

‘Well, it’s just that I had seen him before.’

‘No way!’

‘It’s true. I don’t know his name, but I remember his face quite well.’

‘Where did you meet him?’

‘Well, that’s the thing. I didn’t actually meet him, but I saw him. Here, at the hospital, and near your apartment.’

‘What?’

‘It was around April of last year. To be perfectly honest, I was a little obsessed with you back then and, well, I’d make trips to the hospital just to see you, or hang out near your apartment. I’m guessing you never noticed.’

‘I had no idea.’ Noriko shook her head. The thought made the hair on the back of her neck rise up.

‘But,’ he continued, unaware of her reaction, ‘it wasn’t just me coming to see you. He was watching you, too. I know this is a little funny, me saying this, but he gave me a bad vibe. I even thought of telling you once. But I started getting busy at work, and with my mother, and I had no time to myself and, well, I guess I just let it slide.’

‘And you’re sure it was him?’

‘He’s the one living with you now, absolutely.’

‘That’s impossible,’ she said, shaking her head. Her face felt drawn and taut, as if she were wearing a plaster mask. ‘I’m sure you’re mistaken.’

‘I’m sure I’m right. I have a very good memory for faces. He was definitely the man I saw last year,’ Fujii said with certainty.

Noriko picked up her teacup, but she didn’t feel like drinking. Her head was a storm of thoughts.

‘Of course, just because he was hanging out around you doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. Maybe he was like me, and he fell for you, you know. But, like I said, he gave me a bad vibe, and the thought of you two together, well, it made me worry. Not that it’s any of my business, of course, so I held back until I saw you the other day – entirely by accident, you understand – and that got me thinking about it again. Thinking about you. So, that’s why I’m here.’

Noriko was hardly listening to him by that point. His meaning was clear: break up with Akiyoshi and go out with him. But she wasn’t interested in the least. Not only because it was ridiculous; she just wasn’t in the right state of mind.

She wasn’t sure what she said when she left the café. When she came to her senses, she was walking down the street at night. April, he had said. April of last year.

That didn’t make any sense. She hadn’t met Akiyoshi until May, and their meeting had been a total accident – or so she’d thought.

What if it wasn’t?

She thought back to that night. Akiyoshi, hunched over with a pain in his stomach. Had he been waiting for her to come home? Had it all been an act to get close to her?

Why?

Assuming that Akiyoshi had some purpose in getting close to her, why had he chosen her? She wasn’t so enamoured of herself as to think he had fallen for her looks. So she filled some other condition, then. Was it because she was a pharmacist? An unmarried thirty-something? Was it because she lived alone, or because she worked at the Imperial University Hospital?

Noriko gasped as a thought occurred to her. When she had signed up for the matchmaking service she’d given them a great deal of information about herself. If someone peeked at the data they could easily find someone who met certain criteria. Maybe Akiyoshi had got his hands on their data somehow. Hadn’t he worked at a computer company? What if Memorix had been involved in making the matchmaking service’s computer systems?

She looked up and noticed that she had already reached her apartment. A little shakily, she climbed the steps until she was standing in front of her unit. She unlocked the door and opened it, Fujii’s warning ringing in her ears.

If we know the truth, there’s nothing to be afraid of, she muttered to herself, staring into the dark apartment.