hen the typhoon passed, the brilliant summer sky went with it, as if swept away by a broom, and in its place the colourless dome of autumn appeared. As the temperature fell, Yayoi's overheated emotions also began to cool - her anger and remorse, her hopes and fears. She lived with her boys now, and the new life had begun to seem normal. But the women in the neighbourhood, who at first had rallied around the tragic widow out of sympathy and curiosity, quickly withdrew as she turned into a self-confident single mother. She rarely went out now, except to the factory or to shuttle the children back and forth, and she began to feel strangely cut off.

Had she really changed so much? What had she done except cut her hair - and try to fill in as a father figure for the boys, now that Kenji was gone? Yayoi hadn't realised yet that she was changing gradually from within, having thrown off the shackle that Kenji had been and exchanged it for an internal one, the guilt of having killed her husband.

***

One morning, when it was her turn to clean up around the garbage collection site, Yayoi went out, broom and dustpan in hand, to do her bit. The local residents left their trash by a utility pole at the corner where the wall along the alley turned, the spot where Milk had been crouching the morning after she had killed Kenji. Yayoi looked up at the wall. The stray cats in the area often perched there, hoping to find the garbage unguarded. A dirty white one that might have been Milk and a large brown tabby were sitting on it, but they fled as Yayoi approached. Milk had never come home after that day and had now joined the ranks of the strays, but Yayoi had long since stopped caring. She went on with her work.

As she swept up the scraps of food and paper left behind by the garbage truck, she had the feeling that she was being watched by unfriendly eyes, neighbours staring out at her from behind their curtains. The thought made her increasingly edgy, until to her surprise she heard a pleasant voice.

'Excuse me.' Yayoi looked up to find a woman standing there with a friendly smile. There was no trace of the nosiness she'd come to expect; so maybe this one didn't know about her. She tried to remember if she'd seen her before. The woman appeared to be in her early thirties, straight hair and simple make-up, as if she worked in an office, but there was something hesitant about her, as though she'd not had much experience with the world. Yayoi liked her immediately.

'Are you new in the neighbourhood?' she asked.

'Yes, I've just moved into that building,' the woman said, turning toward a block of ageing apartments behind her. 'Is this where I leave my garbage?'

'Yes. The schedule's posted there.' Yayoi pointed at a sign attached to the pole.

'Thanks,' the woman said, pulling out a notepad and copying down the information. She was dressed to go out, but the white blouse and navy-blue skirt were simple and understated. She waited until Yayoi had finished her sweeping and was about to go before she spoke again.

'Do you always clean up here?' she asked.

'We take turns,' Yayoi said. 'I suppose yours will come up eventually. There's a neighbourhood circular that explains the system.'

'Thanks so much,' the woman said.

'If you can't manage it because you're working, I'd be happy to cover for you,' Yayoi offered.

'That's kind of you,' she said, looking rather surprised. 'But I'm not working at the moment.'

'You're married then?'

'No, I'm not, though I'm certainly old enough.' The laugh that came with this brought out fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Yayoi decided they were about the same age. 'I just quit my job, and I'm unemployed at the moment.'

'Oh, I'm sorry.'

'Actually, I'm giving myself a treat: I've gone back to school.'

'Graduate school?' Yayoi said, realising she was being nosy. Still, she was just happy to be talking to someone. She had no real friends in the vicinity, and things had been strained at the factory since Kenji had died. It was fun to chat like this, even with a total stranger.

'No, nothing so grand. It's just something I've been wanting to do for a long time. I'm taking dyeing lessons. I'm hoping to make a living from it some day.'

'Then are you doing something part-time while you're learning?'

'No, I've got enough saved for two years of school - as long as I live like a pauper,' She laughed and turned back toward the dilapidated wooden apartment building, known in the area for being run-down but cheap.

Yayoi told her her name and said: 'We're the house at the end of the alley. Come by if you have any more questions about things like the garbage.'

'Thanks. I'm Yoko Morisaki. It was nice meeting you.' She sounded so relaxed, so normal. Yayoi wondered what she would think if she knew about Kenji.

***

The next day, after a late afternoon nap, Yayoi was in the kitchen making dinner when she heard the buzzer on the intercom.

'It's Yoko Morisaki,' said a cheerful voice. Running to open the door, Yayoi found her new friend holding a box of grapes. Once again her clothes and make-up were subdued and tasteful, and she seemed genuinely pleased to see her.

'Come in!' Yayoi said.

'I just wanted to stop by and thank you for being so kind yesterday.'

'There's no need to,' said Yayoi, taking the grapes and leading the way back to the living room. Since that night, the only people she'd had in the house were her parents, Kenji's relatives and coworkers, Kuniko, and the police. It was wonderful to have a guest she felt relaxed with.

'I didn't realise you had children,' Yoko said, glancing at the crayon drawings taped to the walls and the toy cars scattered in the hall.

'Yes, two boys. They're at day-care.'

'I envy you. I love kids; I hope you'll introduce us soon.'

'I'd love to,' said Yayoi. 'But I have to warn you, they're a bit wild. They'll tire you out.' Yoko sat down in the chair she was offered and stared at her for a moment.

'I would never have guessed you had two children. You look too young and pretty.'

'That's sweet of you,' said Yayoi, delighted to receive a compliment from a woman her own age. She hopped up to make some tea, which she served with the grapes.

'Is your husband at work?' Yoko asked, spooning sugar into her cup.

'My husband died two months ago,' Yayoi explained, pointing toward the picture of Kenji in the new household altar in the next room. The photo was a few years old, and Kenji looked young and happy - and unsuspecting.

'I'm so sorry,' said Yoko, turning a bit pale. 'I had no idea.'

'Of course you didn't. Don't think a thing of it.'

'Was he ill?' she asked timidly, as if she'd very little experience of people dying.

'No,' said Yayoi, searching the woman's face. 'You really don't know?'

'No.' Her eyes were wide as she shook her head.

'He got mixed up in some kind of trouble. Have you heard about what happened in Koganei Park?'

'You don't mean...' A look of acute embarrassment spread over her face. Apparently, she really hadn't known. She looked down at her lap, with tears in her eyes.

'What's wrong?' Yayoi said, surprised by the tears. 'Why are you crying?'

'I just feel so sorry for you.'

'Thank you,' Yayoi murmured, moved at what seemed like the first sign she'd seen of pure human sympathy. A lot of people had expressed their condolences after the incident, but she had always sensed an undercurrent of doubt. Kenji's relatives blamed her quite openly, and her own parents had gone home. She knew she could count on Masako, but being with her made her nervous, as though she might cut herself if she weren't careful. Yoshie was hopelessly old-fashioned and judgemental; and as for Kuniko, she never wanted to see her again. Having felt isolated from nearly everyone for some time, Yayoi was genuinely touched by her new friend's tears. 'I really appreciate having you here,' she told her. 'The neighbours have been keeping their distance, and I've been very lonely.'

'You've no reason to be thanking me,' said Yoko. 'I'm afraid I'm terribly ignorant about how the world works, and I often wind up saying the wrong thing. So I often don't say anything at all, out of fear of hurting somebody. To tell the truth, that's more or less why I quit my job and decided to take up dyeing. I thought I might be able to make a little world of my own there somehow.'

'I understand,' Yayoi said; and then, slowly, she began to tell the official version of what had happened to Kenji. Yoko listened quietly at first, as if slightly afraid, but as Yayoi spoke she seemed to relax, eventually coming out with a question.

'So that was the last time you saw him, when he left for the office that morning?'

'Yes.' At some point Yayoi had come to believe this herself.

'How sad,' she said.

'I never imagined something like this would happen, that I'd never see him again.'

'And have they caught the killer?'

'No, they don't even know who did it,' Yayoi said with a sigh. As she continued to construct her story, the fact that she had killed Kenji seemed less and less real.

'But they cut him up!' Yoko said indignantly. 'It must be someone awful, a monster.'

'I can't imagine who'd do something like that, either,' she agreed, remembering the photo the detectives had shown her of Kenji's severed hand. The hatred she'd felt for Masako at that moment reared its head again. How could they have gone that far? Some part of her told her she was being illogical, but as they talked, as she went over what had happened, her take on the incident began to change.

The telephone rang. It was probably Masako, she thought. Now that she had this nice new friend, she suddenly realised how tiresome it was to have to talk with a bossy know-it-all like Masako. She hesitated, unwilling to pick up the phone.

'Don't worry about me,' Yoko said, signalling her to answer. Reluctantly, she complied.

'It's me, Kinugasa again,' said a familiar voice. He or Imai checked in each week to see how she was doing.

'Thanks for calling,' she said.

'How have things been going?'

'Well enough.'

'Are you back at work?'

'I am,' she told him. 'I have friends there, and I'm used to the routine, so I'm planning to stay on.'

'That sounds sensible.' His voice was quiet, soothing. 'And you leave the boys to fend for themselves?'

'Fend for themselves?' she repeated, struck by the disapproval in his choice of words.

'I didn't mean it like that,' he said. 'But what do you do with them?'

'I put them to bed before I go; I think they're safe enough.'

'Unless there's a fire or an earthquake. If something happens, you should call the local police station immediately.'

'I appreciate your concern...,' she said.

'By the way, I hear that you'll be getting your husband's insurance.' He sounded happy for her, but she could hear a slight reservation in his tone. She glanced around and saw that Yoko, out of courtesy perhaps, had left her seat and was standing by the window staring out at a withered pot of morning glories that the children had brought home from day-care.

'Yes,' she said. 'I hadn't even realised he'd taken out a policy at his company. It was a shock, but I must say I'm grateful. I wasn't sure what I'd do, trying to raise these boys by myself.'

'Well, I'm happy for you,' said Kinugasa. 'I'm afraid there's some bad news, though. It seems the owner of that casino has disappeared. If you see any sign of him, please let us know right away.'

'What do you mean?' said Yayoi, raising her voice for the first time since she'd answered the phone. She wheeled around to find Yoko staring at her.

'Now don't get excited,' Kinugasa told her. 'He's just gone missing. It's a mistake on our part, but we're doing everything we can to locate him.'

'So you think he ran off because he's guilty?' Kinugasa said nothing for a moment, and in the background she could hear phones ringing and men's voices talking. She frowned, feeling that the smoky, masculine fug of the police station had somehow made its way into her home.

'We're looking for him,' he said eventually, 'so try not to worry. If something happens, call me directly.' With that, he hung up.

This was good news for all of them, Yayoi thought. She'd been disappointed when he was released for lack of evidence, but if he'd gone on the run he was as much as admitting he was guilty. She could relax again. When she put down the phone and went back to her chair, she looked quite cheerful.

'Good news?' Yoko asked, smiling herself.

'No, not really,' she said, trying to look serious again. Yoko seemed surprised by the sudden change of expression.

'Perhaps I should go,' she said.

'No, please. Stay a while.'

'Was the call about the case?'

'It seems the suspect disappeared.'

'Was that the police calling?' Yoko said, a hint of excitement in her voice.

'One of the detectives,' said Yayoi.

'It was? Wow... I mean I'm sorry.'

'That's all right,' Yayoi said, smiling. 'They're a bother, those men, always calling to see how I'm doing.'

'But don't you wish they'd hurry up and find who did it?'

'I certainly do,' said Yayoi forlornly. 'I don't know how much longer I can go on like this.'

'I don't blame you. But if he ran off like that, it must mean he did it.'

'Wouldn't that be wonderful?' The words slipped out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying, but fortunately Yoko seemed to take no notice and went on nodding in sympathy.

***

It was only a matter of time before a friendship developed between them. Yoko would often show up soon after Yayoi awoke from her nap, before she was quite ready to go get the boys and start dinner. Yoko said she was on her way home from school, and she usually brought some inexpensive dessert or snack. Yayoi's children liked her right away. Yukihiro told her about the cat, and she took them out to search for him in the neighbourhood.

'Yayoi-san,' Yoko said to her one day, somewhat hesitantly, 'why don't I stay here with the boys while you're at work?' Yayoi was amazed that someone she'd only just met should be so kind to her.

'I couldn't ask you to do that,' she said.

'You certainly could. I've got to sleep somewhere anyway, and I hate to think of little Yukihiro waking up alone at night, his papa gone and his mother off at work.' She seemed to have a soft spot for the younger boy, and he in turn was completely attached to her. So Yayoi, who had been feeling starved for simple human kindness, jumped at the offer.

'Then you have to agree to have dinner with us. I can't pay you, but at least we can feed you.'

'Thank you,' said Yoko, beginning to cry.

'What's wrong?'

'It's just that I'm so happy,' she said, wiping away the tears. 'I feel like I have a new family. I've been alone so long, I'd forgotten how nice it is to be with other people. That room gets so lonely...'

'I've been lonely, too. I lost my husband so suddenly, and since then I feel as though nobody understands what I'm going through.'

'I know how hard it must be.' Both in tears now, the two women embraced; but when Yayoi looked up, she saw her kids staring at them in amazement.

'Boys,' she laughed, wiping her cheek, 'Yoko-san is going to be staying with you at night from now on!'

***

It never occurred to her that Yoko would be the cause of a shouting match with Masako.

Masako's grilling had begun with, 'Who is that answering the phone at your house these days?'

'Her name is Yoko Morisaki. She's a neighbour, and she's been nice enough to look after the boys for me.'

'You mean she stays over at your house?'

'She's been sleeping there while I'm at work.'

'So she's living with you?' asked Masako in that analytical way of hers.

'No, it's nothing like that.' Yayoi sounded annoyed. 'She goes to school. When she's done, she comes over for dinner. Then she comes back when I leave for work.'

'And she stays with your kids all night for free?'

'I feed her dinner,' said Yayoi.

'She's pretty generous, wouldn't you say? You don't think she's after something?'

'No!' Yayoi protested. She couldn't allow anyone to make nasty insinuations like that about Yoko, not even Masako. 'She's just incredibly kind - and you're rather mean.'

'Mean or not, I'm just trying to remind you that you're the one who'll suffer most if we're found out.'

'I know, but... '

'But what?'

Yayoi was fed up with this cross-examination. Why did Masako always keep on hammering away at things?

'Why are you getting at me like this?' she said.

'I'm not,' a puzzled Masako replied. 'Why are you getting so angry?'

'I'm not angry!' Yayoi insisted. 'I'm just tired of all your questions. In fact, I've got a few of my own. What have you and the Skipper been cooking up? And why aren't you talking to Kuniko anymore? Did something happen?' Masako frowned. She hadn't told her that Kuniko had talked to Jumonji, or that she was considering another 'job' as a result; and it never occurred to Yayoi that she was being kept in the dark because Masako considered her weak and unreliable.

'No - nothing,' Masako said. 'But are you sure that woman isn't after the insurance money or something?'

'Morisaki-san is not that kind of person!' Yayoi shouted, exploding at last. 'She's not like Kuniko!'

'Fine, fine. Forget I mentioned it.' Her outburst over, Masako subsided; and Yayoi, remembering her debt to her, was quick to apologise.

'I'm sorry, I just snapped. But I'm sure Yoko is all right.'

'But aren't you worried about her spending all that time with your kids?' said Masako, refusing to give up. 'One of them might say something.'

'They've forgotten all about that night,' Yayoi said, amazed at her persistence. 'They've never mentioned it again.' Masako sat and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

'You don't think that's because they know it would cause trouble for you?'

'No, that's not it,' she said, though the comment had hit home. 'I know them better than anybody, and I'm sure they've forgotten all about it.'

'I hope you're right.' Masako glanced at her. 'But you don't want to get sloppy in the late innings.'

'Late innings? Why do you say that?' To her mind, the game had ended, and they had won. 'Haven't you heard? The casino owner has disappeared, so it's all over.'

'What do you mean?' she snorted. 'I don't see how it will ever be over for you.'

'What a horrible thing to say!' Glancing around, she realised that Yoshie had come up quietly and was standing behind Masako, watching her with the same accusing eyes. Yayoi couldn't stand the way they seemed to be plotting something together, shutting her out of their plans, blaming her for everything, even though they were more than willing to take her money.

After work, she left the factory without talking to anyone. The dawn came later these days, and the darkness seemed to close in around her, reminding her how lonely she was. When she arrived home, Yoko and the boys were still asleep in the bedroom, though her friend must have heard her come in since she appeared a few moments later in her pyjamas.

'Good morning,' she said.

'Did I wake you?'

'Don't worry about it. I have to get an early start today so I should be up anyway.' She stretched sleepily but then seemed to realise that Yayoi was upset. 'You look pale. Did something happen?'

'No, it's nothing important - just an argument at work.' She couldn't mention, of course, that her defence of Yoko had been the cause.

'Who with?'

'A woman named Masako, the one who calls here all the time.'

'You mean the one who's always so curt? What did she say?' Yoko was flushed, as if she'd had the argument herself.

'Nothing much,' said Yayoi, dodging the question. 'It was all pretty silly.' She tied on her apron and began fixing breakfast.

In a quiet voice, Yoko asked: 'Why do you always sound so meek when you're talking to her?'

'What?' she said, wheeling around. 'I do not.'

'Is she threatening you somehow?' There was a sharply inquisitive look in her eyes, the same look she'd seen in the other neighbours, but Yayoi forced herself to ignore it. Anyone else, she thought, but not Yoko.