This will never be a civilized country until we expend more money for books than we do for chewing gum.

Elbert Hubbard

 
 
 
 
 
Tác giả: Higashino Keigo
Thể loại: Tiểu Thuyết
Language: English
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Cập nhật: 2020-04-16 22:19:13 +0700
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Chapter 2
oshio Tagawa took a look at the sports page and thought about the game, his foul mood of the night before coming back over him.
The Yomiuri Giants had lost; there was nothing he could do about that. What bugged him was how it had gone down.
At the critical moment, Nagashima had just choked. This was the hitter that had taken the Giants to victory so many times before, and now his batting was so weak it hurt to watch. It was always Shigeo Nagashima who came through in a pinch, always the man they called ‘Mister Giants’ who gave a swing the fans could get behind, even when he was struck out.
But something had clearly gone wrong. To be honest, the warning signs had already been there two or three years back. But Tagawa, a Nagashima fan since childhood, had just looked away, unable to accept the harsh reality of what he was seeing. Everybody gets older. The day comes when even the best players have to leave the field. He looked at the photo in the newspaper of Nagashima having just been struck out and realised he might be at a critical juncture this year. The season was just getting started, but there would be rumours of retirement by summer. If the Giants stopped winning, it was almost certain. Tagawa wasn’t too hopeful about their prospects, either. They had charged through nine years at the top of the Central League, but he couldn’t help thinking that the cracks were beginning to show in the team – cracks epitomised by Nagashima.
He glanced sideways at an article about the Chunichi Dragon’s latest win and closed the paper. The clock on the wall showed it was four. He doubted anyone else would come today. Not many people paid rent on the day before payday, anyway.
Tagawa was mid-yawn when he noticed someone standing outside the office. He could just see glimpses through the spaces between the apartment flyers he’d taped up on the window. He couldn’t see a face, but he could see their shoes – sneakers, a child. Maybe some kid on his way home from elementary school killing time by checking out the apartment listings, Tagawa thought.
However, several seconds later, the door opened. A girl wearing a cardigan over a blouse peeked in, almost fearfully. Her eyes were large, like a cat’s. Tagawa guessed she was in her last years of elementary school, maybe sixth grade.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked. His voice sounded soft even to his own ears. If this had been one of the typical area brats, the kind with scuffed-up knees and worn faces, he doubted he would have sounded half as nice.
‘My name’s Nishimoto,’ the girl said.
‘Nishimoto? Where from?’
‘Yoshida Heights.’
The girl’s crisp diction and bright voice was remarkably refreshing to Tagawa’s ears. All the kids he knew talked as brutishly as you’d expect from their muddled heads and bad upbringing.
‘Yoshida Heights…’ Tagawa pulled a file off the shelf.
Eight families lived in Yoshida Heights. The Nishimoto unit was in the middle on the ground floor, No 103. Tagawa noted that they were two months behind on the rent. It had been about time for him to give them a call, in fact.
‘So, um.’ He turned back to the girl. ‘You’re Mrs Nishimoto’s daughter?’
‘Yes,’ the girl said.
Tagawa glanced back down at the file. The Nishimotos’ unit only listed two residents: Fumiyo Nishimoto and her daughter, Yukiho. When they had moved in ten years earlier, Fumiyo’s husband, Hideo, had been on the rental agreement, but he had died soon afterwards.
‘You come to pay the rent?’ Tagawa asked.
Yukiho looked down at the floor before shaking her head. Didn’t think so, Tagawa thought to himself. ‘So what’s this about?’
‘I was hoping you could open the door for me.’
‘What, the door to your apartment?’
‘I didn’t bring my key with me and I can’t get in.’
‘Oh.’ Finally Tagawa understood the reason for the girl’s visit. ‘So your mother locked the door and went out?’
Yukiho nodded. When she looked up at him, there was an allure to her face that made Tagawa forget for a moment that the girl was only in elementary school. He swallowed. ‘And you don’t know where she is?’
‘She didn’t say she’d be going out… that’s why I didn’t take my key with me.’
‘Right, I get you.’
Tagawa looked at the clock. It was still a little too early to close up shop. His father, who owned the estate agency, was off at a relative’s place since the day before, and wouldn’t be back until late tonight. Still, he couldn’t just stay here and give the master key to the girl. It was in the agreement with the property owner that someone from the estate agency would always be present when a master key was being used.
Normally he would have just told the girl to wait until her mother came home, but when he saw the forlorn look in her eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to turn her away.
‘Right, well, hold on, I’ll walk there with you.’ He stood and walked over to the safe with the keys for the rental properties.
Tagawa trailed Yukiho Nishimoto’s slender figure across the patched and cracked pavement on the ten-minute walk to Yoshida Heights. He noticed that she wasn’t wearing the usual school backpack. Instead she was carrying a red vinyl handbag.
When she walked, he heard a bell ringing from somewhere on her person. He wondered where the bell was, but couldn’t see it from behind her. Looking at her like this, he could tell now that she wasn’t particularly well off. The soles of her sneakers were worn thin, her cardigan was covered with pills, and a few holes were opening here and there. Even the fabric of her checked skirt looked spent.
And yet she gave off a kind of refined aura he was sure he’d never seen before, certainly not in these parts. It made him wonder where it came from. He knew Yukiho’s mother, an introverted, unremarkable woman, filled with the same vulgar desperation as everyone else who lived around here. It surprised him that a girl could grow up with a mother like that and still turn out the way she was.
‘Where’s your school?’ Tagawa asked from behind her.
‘Ōe Elementary,’ she said, turning her head slightly to answer while she walked.
‘You’re kidding.’
Ōe Elementary was the public school that nearly all the kids from the neighbourhood went to. Every year a couple of them would get picked up for shoplifting or simply disappear when their parents skipped town to escape loan sharks or the like. When you walked by the place in the afternoon it smelled like old lunch and when school finished the local hustlers would come out on their bicycles trying to sell the kids crap to part them from their allowances. It was that kind of school. Not that any of the kids that went to Ōe Elementary would get taken in by a street hustler.
He found it hard to believe that this girl went there. Of course, given what he knew about her household’s financial situation, sending her to private school would have been out of the question. He imagined she must be pretty popular in school.
They reached the building, and Tagawa knocked on the door to No 103, calling out, ‘Mrs Nishimoto?’ There was no answer. ‘Looks like she’s still out,’ he said, glancing in Yukiho’s direction.
The girl nodded. Again he heard the sound of a bell jingling.
Tagawa slid the master key into the lock and turned it clockwise. There was a click as the door unlocked. That was the instant he first had a premonition that something was wrong. It started in his gut and spread through his chest. Still he grabbed the knob and pulled the door open.
He’d only taken one step in before he saw the woman lying down in the far room. She was wearing a thin yellow sweater and jeans, asleep on the tatami mats. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew for certain it was Fumiyo Nishimoto.
So she was home, he thought, when he noticed a strange smell in the air.
‘Gas!’
He stopped Yukiho from coming in with one hand, and covered his mouth and nose with the other. His eyes went to the kitchen. A pot sat on the stove and the knob was turned on, but no flame came from the burner.
Holding his breath, Tagawa quickly turned off the gas and opened the window over the kitchen counter. Then he rushed into the back and opened the window in the far room, taking a sidelong glance at Fumiyo lying next to the tea table before sticking his head out and taking a deep breath. He felt a tingling sensation in the back of his skull.
He turned back to look at Fumiyo Nishimoto. Her face was a light blue and there was no warmth to her skin at all. We’re too late, was his first thought. He spotted a black telephone in the corner of the room, picked up the receiver, and put his finger on the dial when he hesitated, wondering if he should dial 119 for an ambulance or just 110 for the police to come and pick up the body.
He stood for a moment, unable to decide. The only dead person he’d seen until then was his grandfather.
He dialled 1, 1, then rested his finger on the 0.
Just then, Yukiho’s voice asked from the doorway, ‘Is she dead?’
He turned to look at her. The light from the door behind her meant he couldn’t see the expression on her face.
‘Is my mother dead?’ the girl asked again. There were tears in her voice.
‘I don’t know,’ Tagawa said, his finger shifting from the 0 to the 9 before giving the dial a final twist.
It was several minutes after the bell rang before he heard the sound of talking, giggling, and running feet.
Camera cradled in his right hand, Yuichi Akiyoshi crouched and watched. Students were just beginning to spill from the front gate of the Seika Girls Middle School. He held his camera up to his chest and stared at each of them in turn.
His hiding spot was in the back of a pickup truck parked along the side of the road about fifty metres away from the gate. It was a perfect location. Most of the students leaving the school would have to pass him on the way home and the tarp over the back of the truck provided good cover. Given his objective for the day, it was the best vantage point Yuichi could have hoped for. If he could get the shot he wanted it would be worth having skipped out on sixth period to come.
The girls at Seika Girls Middle School wore sailor uniforms. In the summer the uniforms had white tops with a light blue collar and their neatly pleated skirts were the same light blue. Yuichi watched those skirts flutter around the legs walking by. Some of the girls still looked as if they could be in elementary school, but others had already taken that first step into womanhood. Whenever one of the latter came near the truck he wanted to take a picture, but he resisted. He didn’t want to run out of film before the main event.
He’d been watching the girls pass by for about fifteen minutes before he spotted Yukiho Karasawa. Hurriedly he lifted his camera and began tracking her through the lens.
As always, Yukiho was walking with her friend, a lanky girl with wireframe glasses. She had a pointed jaw, a pimpled forehead, and her body was lumpy in all the wrong places.
Yukiho Karasawa, on the other hand, was a beauty with lustrous, chestnut brown hair down to her shoulders. She tossed it to one side with her fingers in an utterly natural motion. There was something luxuriously feline about her eyes and a winsome smile played across her slightly pouty lower lip. She was slender, too, except for the decidedly feminine curves of her chest and hips. This last aspect of her physique had been singled out by her many fans as a top selling point.
For Yuichi, however, Yukiho’s nose was her best part and the most deserving of a close-up shot. He steadied his grip on the camera and smiled.
Yuichi’s house was at the very end of a long line of terraced houses facing a narrow street. The place had been standing for thirty years already and an odd mix of miso soup, curry and other spices had infused the old roof and wall posts with their scent. Yuichi always thought of it as an embarrassingly working-class kind of smell.
‘Fumihiko’s upstairs,’ his mother called from the kitchen. He glanced down at the chopping board in front of her and sighed inwardly. Potato tempura again. Ever since one of her relatives back home had sent them potatoes they’d been eating them nearly every meal.
Upstairs he found his friend Fumihiko Kikuchi sitting in the middle of his bedroom, flipping through a movie pamphlet from a trip Yuichi had made to the cinema a few days earlier.
‘You saw Rocky, huh. Any good?’ Kikuchi asked, looking up at Yuichi. The pamphlet was open on a close-up of Sylvester Stallone’s face.
‘Yeah, it was cool.’
‘Cool. Everyone says it’s pretty good.’
Kikuchi resumed looking at the pamphlet. Yuichi figured he probably wanted it but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to give the pamphlet to Kikuchi – if he wanted it, he could go and see the movie and get one himself.
‘I wish movies weren’t so expensive,’ his friend mumbled.
‘Yeah.’
Yuichi pulled his camera out of his duffel bag and put it on the desk, then sat down on his chair, hugging the back. Kikuchi was a good friend, but he didn’t like talking about money with him. Kikuchi lived alone with his mother, and you could tell just by looking at him that they had it pretty rough. Yuichi felt lucky that his dad was still healthy and working with the railroad company.
‘You taking pictures again?’ Kikuchi asked, looking at the camera. By his grin, it was clear he knew exactly what Yuichi’s subject had been.
‘Yeah,’ Yuichi said, grinning back.
‘Get any good ones?’
‘I hope so. Actually, I’m pretty sure I did, yeah.’
‘Big bucks,’ Kikuchi said with an arch of his eyebrows.
‘I don’t know. They don’t sell for that much. And it costs money to print them. I’ll be lucky if I come out ahead.’
‘Hey, man, cash is cash. You got yourself a marketable skill there. I’m jealous.’
‘I wouldn’t call it a skill, really. I don’t even know how to use the camera, at least not how you’re supposed to. All this stuff just fell into my lap.’
The room that Yuichi was now using as his own had previously belonged to his uncle, his father’s younger brother. His uncle was into photography, and as a result he owned a lot of cameras. He even had the equipment to develop and print black-and-white photos. When his uncle got married and left, he’d given some of his stuff to Yuichi.
‘Cool that you have someone who gives you things like that.’
Yuichi’s mood darkened as he anticipated more envy from Kikuchi. He didn’t know why Kikuchi always steered their conversation to money – except this time, Kikuchi changed the topic on his own.
‘Remember those photos your uncle took that you showed me the other day?’
‘The ones from around town?’
‘Yeah. You still got those?’
‘Sure.’
Yuichi reached for the album at the end of the bookshelf. This was another of the things his uncle had left. It had a few photographs inside, all of them black-and-white scenes taken on the streets near his house. He handed Kikuchi the album and Kikuchi began to pore over each photograph with great interest.
‘What are you so into those for?’ Yuichi said, looking down at his slightly chubby friend where he sat on the floor.
‘No reason, really,’ he said, pulling one of the photographs from the scrapbook. ‘Hey, think I can borrow this one?’
‘Which one’s that?’
Yuichi looked at the photograph in Kikuchi’s hand. There was a narrow street with a couple walking down it. A poster taped to an electrical pole hung loose in the wind, and there was a cat curled up on a plastic bucket in the foreground.
‘Whatcha want that for?’ Yuichi asked.
‘There’s a friend I want to show it to.’
‘Who?’
‘I’ll tell you once I show it to him.’
‘Why?’
‘Come on, let me borrow it. You’re not using it, are you?’
‘No, it’s cool, it’s just a little weird,’ Yuichi said, looking at his friend’s face as he handed him the photograph.
After dinner that night, Yuichi went up to his room and began developing the photographs he’d taken that afternoon. Using his closet as a darkroom, he could take the film out of the camera in there and place it in a special container so he could do the rest out in the light. Once the photos were fixed, he took the film out of the container and took it down to the sink on the first floor to wash it.
As he washed the film, Yuichi held it up to the fluorescent light over the sink. He smiled when he saw that the negative perfectly captured the sheen of Yukiho Karasawa’s hair. Good, he thought. This will make the customers happy.
Eriko Kawashima made a habit of writing in her diary each night before she went to bed. She’d started at the beginning of fifth grade, which meant she had been at it for a whole five years now. The trick to keeping a diary was not to pressure yourself into always being dramatic. Simple was OK. Even if all you wrote was ‘nothing much happened today’, that was fine.
But today she had lots to write about. For the first time she’d gone to Yukiho Karasawa’s house after school.
Eriko had known who she was since their first year in middle school. Yukiho had the face of an intellectual and an elegant, trim figure. Eriko saw something in her that she didn’t see in any of the other girls, or even in herself. What she felt when she looked at her was almost longing. She’d often wondered if there was some way they could be friends.
Which was why Eriko felt like celebrating when they were finally put in the same class in their third year of middle school. Mustering her courage, she had approached Yukiho right after the opening ceremony and introduced herself.
She’d been so afraid of a dirty look, or even worse, silence, that the girl’s reaction startled her.
Yukiho smiled. ‘Yukiho Karasawa,’ she said.
Yukiho was even more womanly close up. And she was sensitive. Just being with her opened Eriko’s eyes to all kinds of things she’d never noticed before. Yukiho had a natural talent for making conversations interesting, which made Eriko feel like she was more interesting, too. Though Eriko thought of herself as still a girl, in her mind and in numerous diary entries, Yukiho was always a ‘woman’.
As always with someone so popular, Eriko had competition for Yukiho’s friendship. At times she would feel a slight pang of jealousy, as though they might take something very important away from her.
Worst of all was when the boys at a nearby middle school noticed Yukiho and started following her around like she was some kind of celebrity. The other day during gym class some of the boys had climbed up the chain-link fence by the sports field to watch them. When they spotted Yukiho they hooted and hollered until the teacher made them leave.
And today, on their way home from school, there had been someone hiding in the back of a truck by the school gate taking pictures of her. Eriko had only caught a glimpse of him: an unhealthy-looking boy with a pimply face, the type of guy whose head was always filled with vulgar fantasies. When Eriko thought that the pictures he was taking of Yukiho might be fuelling those fantasies it made her want to puke, but Yukiho didn’t seem to pay any mind at all.
‘I just ignore them. They’ll soon find better things to do.’
Then she ran her fingers through her hair, almost as if she was doing it on purpose.
‘But doesn’t it make you feel gross? I mean, they’re taking pictures of you without even asking.’
‘It is a little gross, but it’s better than calling them out because then you end up having to talk to them and then it’s like you know them.’
‘I guess.’
‘It’s really better to just ignore them entirely.’
Yukiho walked right past the truck while Eriko stayed as close by her side as she could in hopes that she might get in the way of a photograph or two.
It was soon after this that Yukiho invited Eriko to her house. Yukiho had forgotten to return a book she’d borrowed and thought Eriko might want to come and pick it up. Eriko didn’t care about the book, but she wasn’t about to pass up a chance to visit Yukiho’s home.
She got off the bus at the fifth stop and walked for about two minutes. Yukiho Karasawa’s house was in a quiet residential area. It wasn’t large, but it had a very nicely tended garden in front.
Yukiho lived alone with her mother, who came out to greet Eriko. The woman looked old enough to be Yukiho’s grandmother, and it put Eriko in mind of an unpleasant rumour she’d recently heard.
‘Please make yourself at home,’ the woman said softly, leaving them in the living room.
‘Your mom seems nice,’ Eriko said when they were alone.
‘Yeah.’
‘I saw the sign by the door. Does she teach the tea ceremony?’
‘Yeah, flower arranging too. I think she even gives koto lessons.’
‘Wow,’ Eriko said. ‘She’s a superwoman. Is she teaching you all of that?’
‘Just tea and flowers,’ Yukiho said.
‘That’s so cool. It’s like you get to go to finishing school for free.’
‘I don’t know,’ Yukiho said. ‘She might not look it, but she’s a pretty strict teacher.’ She poured a little milk in the tea her mother had brought them and drank.
Eriko followed suit. It was a fragrant black tea, not the kind that came in those little teabags at the corner store.
‘Say, Eriko,’ Yukiho said, staring at her with her big eyes. ‘Have you heard anyone saying things lately about me. About my elementary school.’
Eriko blinked. ‘Um, well…’
A little smile came to Yukiho’s lips. ‘You have heard, then, haven’t you.’
‘No. I mean maybe I heard a little, but —’
‘It’s OK, you don’t have to hide it. I guess the stories are really making the rounds, huh,’ she said.
‘N-not really. Hardly anyone’s heard. That’s what the girl who told me said.’
‘Yeah, but the fact that she told you means that it’s out there. Eriko?’ Yukiho put her hand on the other girl’s knee. ‘Can you tell me what you heard?’
‘Nothing much, really. Nothing interesting, at least.’
‘I bet they said I used to be really poor and I lived in a dirty little apartment in Ōe?’
Eriko swallowed.
Yukiho went on, ‘And that my mother died mysteriously?’
Eriko looked up. ‘You know I don’t believe any of that,’ she said, her voice earnest.
Yukiho smiled. ‘It’s OK. You don’t have to pretend. And it’s not all a lie, anyway. I’m adopted. I came here just before starting middle school. My mother you just met isn’t my real mother.’ She spoke easily, as if what she was saying wasn’t that big a deal. ‘It’s also true that I lived in Ōe. And I was really poor. My dad died a long time ago, that’s why. And my mom died when I was in sixth grade.’
‘Oh no!’ Eriko said. ‘How?’
‘Gas poisoning,’ Yukiho said. ‘It was an accident. But some people said it might have been suicide. That’s how poor we were.’
‘Oh,’ Eriko said, really unsure of what to say now. Yukiho wasn’t acting like she had just made some weighty confession. Of course, Eriko thought, she’s probably just playing it casual so she won’t upset me.
‘My mother now is actually a relative of my father’s. I used to come here by myself to play a long time ago and when I became an orphan she took me in. I guess she was lonely, living all by herself.’
‘Wow, that must’ve been really hard.’
‘A little. But I was also really lucky. I mean, normally they put you in some kind of institution.’
‘I guess, yeah.’
Eriko wanted to say something sympathetic but she felt as if no matter what she said it could only earn Yukiho’s disdain. How could she, who had lived a completely normal, easy life, understand anything of her friend’s pain?
Eriko was impressed at the grace with which Yukiho seemed to have carried herself this far. She wondered if somehow all of those hardships were what made her shine from the inside as she did.
‘What else were they saying about me?’ Yukiho asked.
‘I don’t know. I really didn’t want to hear any more.’
‘Whatever it was, I’m sure there was some truth to it. And some parts they just made up…’
‘You really shouldn’t worry about it,’ Eriko told her. ‘The ones talking are just jealous of you, Yukiho.’
‘I’m not worried. I was just wondering who started the rumours.’
‘Who cares?’ Eriko didn’t really want to talk about this any more.
In fact, there was one more part to the story Eriko had heard. Yukiho’s real mom had been someone’s mistress, they said, and when the man she was seeing got murdered, she became a suspect. That’s why she killed herself. She was afraid of getting caught.
Of course, she wasn’t about to tell that part of the story to Yukiho.
Yukiho had taken up patchwork lately and she showed some of the things she’d made to Eriko. There was a pillow cover and a pouch whose bright colour selection revealed Yukiho’s good taste. There was one other piece, as yet unfinished, with a different colour scheme – a bag, or maybe a purse, made entirely with cooler colours, like black and navy. ‘Sometimes dark can be fun, too,’ Eriko said, and she really meant it.
The composition teacher always did her best to keep her eyes on either the textbook or the blackboard, never the students. She taught class mechanically, just trying to get through that forty-five minutes of hell, praying nothing would happen. No students were called on to read aloud to the class, no questions were asked.
The Ōe Middle School Year 3 Class 8 classroom was divided into two sections. Those students with even a slight interest in listening sat towards the front half of the class. Those without any interest sat in the back, doing whatever they felt like doing. Some of them played cards, some chatted loudly, and others just slept.
A few teachers had started off punishing such behaviour in their classes, but over the span of a month or two the punishments stopped. It just wasn’t worth the consequences. Once, an English teacher had scolded a kid for reading a manga in class, taking the comic book away and swatting him on the head with it. Several days later a masked assailant attacked the teacher on a back street, breaking two of his ribs. It was clearly payback, but the student who had been scolded in class had an alibi. On another occasion, a young maths teacher had screamed and nearly fainted with shock when she went to the chalk tray of her blackboard and found it lined with condoms, all clearly used and still containing semen. She was pregnant and the fainting spell had nearly caused her to have a miscarriage. She had gone on sick leave the next day. No one expected her back until the current third years graduated.
Yuichi Akiyoshi sat almost exactly in the middle of the classroom, allowing him to pay attention or join the miscreants in the back depending on his mood.
Toshiyuki Muta walked in halfway through class with a loud rattling of the door, not seeming to notice the stares as he casually made his way to his own seat in the very back, next to the window. Once Muta sat down, the class resumed as though nothing had happened.
Muta put both his feet up on his desk and pulled a magazine out of his bag – a porno mag.
‘Hey, Muta, no jacking off in class,’ one of his friends whispered, and an eerie smile flickered across Muta’s stony face.
Class finished and Yuichi pulled a large envelope out of his bag and walked over to where Muta was now sitting cross-legged on top of his desk. He had his back to Yuichi, making it impossible for him to see his face, but judging from the smiles of the other kids around him, he was in a good mood. This was important. They were talking about the latest craze, a videogame called Brickout. Yuichi figured they’d probably be ditching school again to hit the local arcade before the day was finished.
One of the boys sitting across from Muta noticed Yuichi approach and jerked his head towards him. Muta turned around. He’d shaved off his eyebrows, leaving two dark blotches on his forehead. Beneath, his eyes were like little sharp pinpoints of light shining out of the craters in the rugged landscape of his face.
‘Here,’ Yuichi said, holding out the envelope.
‘What’s that?’ Muta said in a low voice. His breath smelled of cigarettes.
‘I went to Seika yesterday.’
Muta snatched the envelope out of Yuichi’s hand.
The envelope contained three photos of Yukiho Karasawa. Yuichi had woken up when it was still dark that morning to make the prints. He was proud of his work. Even though they were black and white, you got a real sense of the colour of her hair and skin.
Practically licking his lips, Muta looked up at Yuichi and half of his mouth curled upwards in an unsettling smile. ‘Not bad.’
‘They’re pretty good, right? It wasn’t easy,’ Yuichi said with relief that his customer seemed satisfied.
‘Why are there only three of them?’
‘I just brought the ones I thought you’d like for now.’
‘How many more you got?’
‘Five or six good ones, I guess.’
‘Bring the rest tomorrow,’ Muta said, slipping the envelope inside his school uniform jacket. Clearly he wasn’t intending to give them back.
‘It’s three hundred yen a photo, so that’s nine hundred,’ Yuichi said, pointing at the envelope.
Wrinkles formed in the space between Muta’s shaven eyebrows and he glared sidelong at Yuichi. The angle made the scar under his right eye look even more impressive.
‘I’ll pay when you bring the rest. You’re good with that, right?’
The implication was clear. If Yuichi had any complaints he was welcome to take them up with Muta’s fist. Yuichi nodded and walked away.
‘Hang on a second,’ Muta called out from behind him. ‘You know Miyako Fujimura?’
‘Fujimura?’ Yuichi shook his head. ‘No.’
‘She’s at Seika. Third year. Different class than Karasawa.’
‘Never heard of her,’ Yuichi said, shaking his head again.
‘I want you to take some of her, too. I’ll pay the same price.’
‘But I don’t even know what she looks like.’
‘She’s a violinist so she’s always in the music room playing violin after school. You can’t miss her.’
‘Can you even see inside the music room?’
‘Guess you’re going to go have to find that out for yourself,’ Muta said, turning back to his friends. Clearly, Yuichi had been dismissed. He knew better than to ask any more questions. Muta had been known to fly into mad rages over less.
Muta had first taken an interest in the classy, rich girls attending the famous Seika Girls Middle School about halfway through the first term. Chasing after them was the latest pastime for his gang although it wasn’t clear that any of them had actually ever scored.
The whole photography project had been Yuichi’s initiative, though he’d only had the idea because he heard Muta and his buddies talking about wanting pictures. Yuichi needed pocket change to support his hobby, so the arrangement worked out well.
Muta’s first request had been for photos of Yukiho Karasawa and Yuichi got the sense that he was genuinely interested in her; Muta never turned down any photo with her in it, even ones that were a little blurry.
So it came as a surprise to hear him mention another girl’s name. Maybe he had switched targets, having decided Yukiho Karasawa was out of his league. Either way, it didn’t make much difference to Yuichi. Work was work.
Yuichi had finished eating and was in the process of cramming his lunchbox into his bag when Kikuchi walked up, carrying a large envelope in his hand.
‘You want to come with me up to the roof?’ Kikuchi asked.
‘What for?’
‘That thing we talked about the other day,’ the boy said, opening the envelope so Yuichi could look inside. It was the photo he had lent him.
‘OK,’ Yuichi said, his interest piqued. ‘Sure, let’s go.’
The roof was unoccupied. Until recently it had been a popular hangout for the bad kids, but after a large quantity of cigarette butts had been discovered there, the guidance counsellor had taken to making frequent patrols on the roof, and so no one ever came there any more.
After a few minutes the door to the stairs opened and a boy emerged. He was in Yuichi’s class, but they had hardly ever spoken. His name was Ryo Kirihara and Yuichi had long since categorised him as one of those gloomy kids you just avoided. He didn’t seem to have any friends, never stood out in class, never said anything. During lunch and recess he would always go off by himself and read.
Ryo walked over to them and stopped a short distance away. There was a sharp light in his eyes Yuichi had never noticed before and for a second he felt his heart race.
‘What do you want?’ Ryo said bluntly. Yuichi realised that Kikuchi must have called him up here.
‘I wanted to show you something,’ Kikuchi said.
‘Yeah?’
‘Here,’ Yuichi said, taking out the photograph.
A wary look on his face, Ryo stepped closer and took the photo. He took one glance at the black-and-white scene and his eyes went a little wider. ‘What’s this?’
‘I just thought it might be useful for you. You know, as evidence.’
Yuichi took a sidelong glance at Kikuchi. Evidence?
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Ryo glared at Kikuchi.
‘Come on, that’s your mom in the photo, isn’t it?’
‘What?’ Yuichi blurted. Ryo shot him a withering glare then turned his sharp eyes back to Kikuchi. ‘No way. That’s not her.’
‘Take another look. It totally is. And the guy with her, he’s the one that worked at your place, right?’
Ryo took a closer look at the photo and slowly shook his head. ‘Honest, I got no idea what you’re talking about. And that’s not my mom. Stop wasting my time.’ He gave the photo back to Kikuchi and started to walk away.
‘This was taken by the station,’ Kikuchi called out. ‘Near your house! It was four years ago. I could tell by the movie poster on the telephone pole. See? It’s for Johnny Got His Gun.’
Ryo stopped. ‘Drop it,’ he said, looking back over his shoulder. ‘It’s got nothing to do with you.’
‘I was just trying to help out,’ Kikuchi said, but all Ryo did was glare at both of them before heading down the stairs.
‘I thought it was pretty good evidence,’ Kikuchi said after Ryo had left.
‘Evidence for what?’ Yuichi asked.
Kikuchi looked at his friend, surprised for a moment. ‘Oh right, you didn’t go to the same elementary school he did. You don’t know.’
‘Don’t know what?’ Yuichi asked, growing irritated.
Kikuchi looked around before replying, ‘That big park up by the station? You remember the building next to it? The one they left half built?’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, four years ago, they found Ryo’s dad in there. Murdered.’
Yuichi’s mouth hung open.
‘His money was gone, so they said it was probably a mugging. You should’ve been there. The cops were all over town for days.’
‘They catch the guy who did it?’
‘They found someone they thought might’ve done it, but they never knew for sure. He died.’
‘What, someone kill him too?’
Kikuchi shook his head. ‘Car accident. But when the cops checked his stuff, they found the same kind of lighter that Ryo’s dad had.’
‘That sounds like pretty good evidence to me.’
‘Maybe, maybe not. They couldn’t prove that it was the same one that belonged to Ryo’s old man. And that’s where it gets interesting. See, people started wondering if it wasn’t his wife who did it.’
‘Whose wife?’
‘Ryo’s mom, dumbass. They say she was going at it with the guy who worked in their shop and Ryo’s dad got in the way.’
The story was that Mr Kirihara ran a pawnshop out of his house, and the ‘other guy’ was an employee who worked there. The whole thing seemed a bit unreal to Yuichi, like something on TV. Besides, he wasn’t really sure what was meant by ‘going at it’.
‘So, what happened?’ Yuichi asked.
‘Well, the rumours kept flying, but there was never really any proof, so I guess people forgot about the whole thing. I barely remembered it myself. Until I saw this.’ Kikuchi held up the photograph. ‘Take a look. See that place behind the couple? That’s one of the hotels people go to to do it. Doesn’t it look like they just walked out of there together?’
‘What does this have to do with what happened four years ago?’
‘Everything, man! This is evidence that Mrs Kirihara was having an affair with the guy at the shop. That means she had a motive for killing her husband. That’s why I wanted to show it to Ryo.’
Yuichi shook his head. Kikuchi spent way too much time reading books.
‘OK, but Ryo isn’t going to suspect his own mom,’ Yuichi pointed out.
‘I get that, but there’s some things you just got to get to the bottom of, even if the truth hurts,’ Kikuchi said, excitedly. It sounded like another line from one of those books he was always reading. ‘Anyway, I’m gonna prove that this is Ryo’s mom somehow. Then he can’t ignore it. I bet if I brought this to the police they’d fire up the investigation again. I even know one of the detectives who was on the case. Maybe I’ll show it to him.’
‘Why are you so obsessed with this?’ Yuichi asked.
‘It was my little brother who found the body.’
‘Your brother? Seriously?’
Kikuchi nodded. ‘Yeah, he came and told me, so I went to look for myself. It was there, the body, really. I told my mom, and she was the one who called the police.’
‘No way.’
‘So because we found the body the police had us in for questioning like a hundred times. And they weren’t just asking about how we found the body, either.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The guy had his money stolen, right? Well, it turns out that sometimes the killer’s the one who takes the money, but sometimes it’s someone else.’
‘You mean —’
‘Like whoever found the body might’ve snatched the money before telling the police!’ A little smile came to Kikuchi’s mouth. ‘The cops didn’t stop there, either. They suspected my dad might’ve killed him, then had us find the body, see?’
‘That’s crazy.’
‘I know, but it’s totally true, just because we were poor. My mom used to go to Ryo’s shop, too. That had the cops real excited.’
‘But they cleared you, right? They didn’t arrest your dad, did they?’
Kikuchi snorted. ‘No, but they suspected him,’ he said. He didn’t elaborate any further.
After class Yuichi went back to the Seika Girls Middle School. He walked along the fence surrounding the school, stopping when he heard the sound he’d been listening for: a violin.
He looked around and once he was confident the coast was clear he climbed on to the fence and moved along it until he could see in through the window the music was coming from.
There was a girl inside sitting at a black piano, her hands on the keys. Her back was turned to Yuichi.
Yes! Yuichi thought, and shifted, craning his neck to see beyond the piano. There was a girl standing there in her sailor uniform, playing violin.
Miyako Fujimura.
She looked shorter than Yukiho. Her hair was short, too. He wanted to get a closer look at her face and was just craning his neck further when the sound of the violin abruptly stopped and, to his horror, the girl ran up to the window.
The window opened right in front of Yuichi and the girl stared straight out at him, a victorious smile on her face. Yuichi froze, unable even to climb down the fence.
Then Miyako Fujimura shouted something at him. Her voice hit him like a ton of bricks and he let go of the fence, tumbling when he hit the ground. Thankfully, he’d managed to land feet first.
The girl was still screaming inside the classroom. Yuichi ran for his life.
It was only later when he caught his breath that he was able to process what the girl had shouted at him through the window.
‘Cockroach.’
On Tuesday and Friday evenings, Eriko went to English lessons with Yukiho from seven to eight-thirty. The lessons had been Yukiho’s idea, of course.
The class was only a ten-minute walk from school, but Eriko always went home first to eat dinner before going. While she was doing that, Yukiho stayed at school to practise with the theatre club. Eriko was like Yukiho’s shadow these days, following her everywhere, but she had stopped short at trying to join the theatre club.
One Tuesday night after class the two were walking back home as usual. They were nearing school when Yukiho said she had to call home and went into a phone booth. Eriko looked at her watch. It was almost nine o’clock. They’d stayed too long after class finished, chatting.
‘Thanks for waiting,’ Yukiho said as she came out of the booth. ‘Mom told me to hurry home. How about we take a shortcut?’
‘Sure.’
Normally the two of them walked along the main road where the buses ran, but tonight, they took a back road they usually avoided because there weren’t many lights, which made it really dark, and there weren’t many homes, just empty car parks and warehouses. They were just passing by the storehouse for a lumberyard when Yukiho stopped.
‘Hey,’ she said, ‘see that thing over there? Isn’t that a school uniform?’ Yukiho pointed towards something white lying on the ground next to a stack of wood.
‘I don’t know,’ Eriko said, craning her neck. ‘Maybe it’s just a piece of cloth or something.’
‘No, that’s definitely a uniform.’ Yukiho walked over and picked it up. ‘See? What’d I tell you?’
She was right. It was torn, but it was definitely one of their school uniforms – the light blue collar was unmistakable. A small name tag was attached: MIYAKO FUJIMURA.
A nasty tingle ran down Eriko’s spine. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to leave this place soon as possible.
But Yukiho just stood there, looking around until she noticed that the door on the side of the storehouse was slightly ajar. Bravely, she walked up to it and looked inside.
‘Let’s go home,’ Eriko called out, but Yukiho gave a little scream and stepped away from the door, clapping her hand to her mouth.
‘What?’ Eriko asked, her voice shaking.
‘Somebody’s inside,’ Yukiho said. ‘I think they might be dead.’
It was Miyako Fujimura. Her arms and legs had been tied and her mouth was gagged, but she wasn’t dead. She was unconscious when help arrived, but came to soon afterwards.
After discovering her, the two girls had run back to the main road and, convinced they’d seen a body, called the police. Then they waited by the phone booth, holding hands and trembling.
Miyako was naked from the waist up. Everything from the waist down had been taken off except for her skirt. The rest of her clothes were scattered on the ground nearby along with a black plastic bag. The first responders carried her into the waiting ambulance, but the girl said nothing. Even when she saw Eriko and Yukiho she didn’t react and her eyes were vacant.
Eriko and Yukiho were taken to the nearby police station where they were asked some simple questions. It was their first time in a police car – an event that would have been cause for excitement under any other circumstances. But after what they had witnessed they were just happy to be safe.
The man asking them questions was a middle-aged detective, with white hair parted in the middle. He looked like the kind of man you might see behind the counter at a sushi bar, but the way he talked, and even the way he sat in his chair, were completely different. He seemed as if he was doing his best to be gentle with them, but the sharp look in his eyes made Eriko shrink in her seat.
The detective wanted to know everything that had led up to their discovery of Miyako and whether they knew anything about what had happened to her. Eriko and Yukiho told the policeman everything they could remember, frequently exchanging glances while they talked to make sure they got it all right. The detective just nodded and listened to them, but when he asked whether they knew anything about what had happened, Eriko and Yukiho had nothing to say.
‘Have you ever seen anyone unusual on your way home from school?’ a female officer sitting next to the detective asked. ‘Maybe someone who might have looked like he was waiting for somebody? Have you ever heard stories about anything like that from your friends?’
‘No, nothing,’ Eriko said.
‘Except,’ Yukiho said, ‘there’s been people looking inside the school, and taking pictures of us on our way home.’ She looked at Eriko. ‘Remember?’
Eriko nodded.
‘Was it always the same person?’ the detective asked.
‘No, there were a few of them. I don’t know if all of them were taking pictures, though,’ Yukiho said. ‘But I think they’re all from the same school.’
‘Wait, these are students you’re talking about?’ The female officer’s eyes widened.
‘I think they’re from Ōe Middle School,’ Yukiho said. She sounded so sure of it, Eriko was surprised.
‘Ōe? How could you tell?’ the female officer asked.
‘I used to live there. I’m pretty sure those uniforms are from the middle school.’
The female officer exchanged glances with the detective.
‘Do you remember anything else?’ the detective asked.
‘Well, I know the name of the one who took my picture the other day. He had his name tag on his shirt.’
The detective’s eyes narrowed like an animal closing in on its prey. ‘What was the name?’
‘Akiyoshi, I’m pretty sure. Written with the characters for autumn and good luck.’
This all struck Eriko as extremely odd. Judging from her attitude the other day, she’d thought Yukiho was completely ignoring them. Yet she had been paying enough attention to even catch the boy’s name. Eriko didn’t remember seeing anything like that at all.
‘Akiyoshi… Right,’ the detective said, writing the name down. He whispered something in the female officer’s ear. She stood and walked out of the room.
‘There’s one last thing I want you to take a look at before we let you go.’ The detective brought out a plastic bag and put it on the table. ‘We found this in the warehouse. I wonder if either of you have seen it before?’
The bag contained a small figurine that looked like part of a key chain, except the chain was broken off halfway.
‘No, sorry. I’ve never seen that,’ Eriko said.
Yukiho’s answer was the same.
‘Hey, your key chain’s broken.’
It was lunch hour and they were at the store to buy some snacks. Yuichi was standing in line behind Kikuchi when Kikuchi pulled out his wallet. He used to have a keychain attached to it with a little figurine at the end, but now there was just a short piece of chain. The figurine was gone.
‘Yeah. I just noticed last night.’ Kikuchi made a sour face. ‘Sucks. You wouldn’t think the chain’d break that easy.’
Yuichi almost said that it was because it was cheap but swallowed his words. ‘Cheap’ was a forbidden word when he was talking with Kikuchi.
‘Speaking of yesterday,’ Kikuchi said, lowering his voice, ‘I saw Rocky!’
‘Hey, cool,’ Yuichi said, even though he was thinking: I thought you said the tickets were too expensive.
‘We got free tickets,’ Kikuchi added, as though he had read Yuichi’s mind. ‘Some customer gave them to my mom.’
‘You lucked out.’ Kikuchi’s mom worked at a market near the school.
‘Anyway, when we checked the tickets, we found out that they were only good until yesterday. Guess that’s why they gave ’em to my mom in the first place. Man, we only just made the last show.’
‘So, how was it?’
‘It was great!’
For a while they just talked excitedly, trading notes on the movie.
They were just getting back to class when one of Yuichi’s classmates told him that their homeroom teacher had been looking for him. Their teacher taught science and everyone called him Bear.
Yuichi found Bear waiting for him, a serious look on his face.
‘Some detectives from Tennoji are here. They want to talk to you.’
Yuichi’s mouth gaped. ‘With me? About what?’
‘They say you were taking pictures at the Seika Girls Middle School?’ Bear glared at Yuichi with dark eyes.
‘I – no, uh —’ Yuichi stammered. He might as well have confessed on the spot.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Bear said, scowling as he stood. ‘What will you idiots think of next? You’re an embarrassment to the whole school.’ He walked out of the room, motioning with his jaw for Yuichi to follow.
Three men were waiting for them in the school office. One of them was the guidance counsellor. He was glared at Yuichi through thick glasses.
Yuichi had never seen the other two men before. One was middle-aged and the other was a little younger. They were both wearing plain dark suits. These must be the detectives, Yuichi thought.
Bear introduced Yuichi to the detectives, who were looking him over from head to toe.
‘So you’re the one they say has been taking pictures of the students by the Seika Girls Middle School?’ the middle-aged detective said. His voice was calm, but there was a growl beneath the surface that was more frightening than anything Yuichi had ever heard from any teacher. Yuichi shrank in his seat, wanting to disappear.
‘I, er—’ He tried to talk, but his tongue felt like it was tied in knots.
‘One of the girls saw your name tag,’ the detective said, pointing at Yuichi’s shirt. ‘It’s a pretty unusual name. Guess that’s why she remembered it.’
No way, Yuichi thought.
‘Well? Were you taking pictures? Tell the truth, now.’
The younger detective joined in glaring at Yuichi. Meanwhile, the guidance counsellor was practically simmering in his chair.
‘Yes,’ Yuichi said, lowering his head. He heard Bear give a big sigh.
‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ the guidance counsellor scolded him.
‘Let us handle this,’ the detective said, holding a hand up to the guidance counsellor before looking back at Yuichi. ‘Were you taking photos of a particular student?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You know her name?’
Yuichi nodded. His voice was caught in his throat.
‘Think you could write it here for me?’ The detective pushed a piece of paper and a pen over to Yuichi.
Yuichi wrote Yukiho Karasawa’s name on the paper. The detective took a look at it and nodded.
‘Anyone else?’ the detective asked him. ‘You just took pictures of her?’
‘Just her, sir.’
‘She your favourite or something?’ the detective asked, a knowing smile spreading across his face.
‘Not my favourite exactly. More like my friend’s. I was just taking the pictures for him.’
‘Why couldn’t he take them himself?’
Yuichi looked down at the floor and bit his lip. The detective watched him, then chuckled. ‘You were selling the pictures?’
Yuichi flinched.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Bear muttered next to him. ‘Of all the stupid —’
‘You the only one taking pictures?’ the detective asked. ‘No one else was doing the same thing?’
‘I don’t think so, sir.’
‘What about the kids on the fence by the athletics field? You one of them, too?’
Yuichi looked up at the detective. ‘That wasn’t me. Honest, sir. I only took the pictures.’
‘So who was on the fence, then? Any idea?’
Yuichi was sure it was Muta and his gang, but he didn’t say anything. Who knew what they would do to him if they heard he’d squealed.
‘Understand: if you’re hiding something it’s not going to go well for you.’ The detective gave him a meaningful look. ‘But right now what I want you to tell me is what you were doing yesterday after school. Be as detailed as you can.’
‘Huh?’ Yuichi blinked. ‘Did something happen?’
‘Akiyoshi!’ Bear shouted. ‘Answer the man’s question!’
‘It’s OK,’ the detective said. There was a faint smile on his face when he turned back to Yuichi. ‘One of the students from Seika got pretty roughed up near school yesterday.’
Yuichi felt the muscles in his face freeze. ‘I didn’t do anything.’
‘We’re not saying you did. But we were talking to the students at Seika, and your name came up.’ There was nothing threatening in the detective’s tone, but Yuichi could hear the meaning behind his words: you’re our prime suspect, kid.
‘I don’t know anything, really!’ Yuichi shook his head.
‘OK, then tell me what you were doing yesterday and where you were.’
‘Yesterday… on the way home from school I stopped at the bookshop and the record shop,’ Yuichi said, recalling. That had been a little after six, and after that he had spent the entire night at home.
‘Was your family home?’
‘Yeah. I was with my mom. Dad came home around nine.’
‘So no one other than your family was there?’
‘No, sir,’ Yuichi said, worried that they might not take his family’s word for it.
‘So, what to do?’ The detective talking turned to the younger detective. ‘Mr Akiyoshi here says he wasn’t taking those photos for himself, but I’m not sure what reason we have to believe him.’
‘I really was taking them for my friend.’
‘If that’s the case, you should probably tell us your friend’s name.’
Yuichi was in a fix. If he didn’t tell them, he was sure they would suspect he did it.
‘Don’t worry,’ the detective said suddenly, ‘we won’t tell anyone it was you who told us.’
His timing was uncanny. It was as if he had peered right into Yuichi’s thoughts. Hesitantly, he gave them Muta’s name. As soon as he said it, the guidance counsellor’s face fell. Probably because that was the name that always came up whenever there was trouble at the school.
‘And he only asked you for pictures of Miss Karasawa? He didn’t want pictures of any of the other girls?’
Yuichi hesitated for a moment, but decided not to hide anything. It wasn’t like he had much left to lose. ‘Actually, just the other day he asked me about one other one. Her name’s Miyako Fujimura. I don’t know her, though.’
A change came over the detectives’ faces.
‘And did you take her picture?’ the detective asked him in a low voice.
‘Not yet, sir,’ Yuichi said, immediately regretting his choice of words.
The detective nodded.
‘I don’t ever want to hear about you taking any more pictures, you got that?’ Bear growled next to him. ‘If you hadn’t been out there being an idiot you wouldn’t be sitting in here right now, understand?’
Yuichi nodded silently.
‘There’s one more thing I wanted to check with you,’ the detective said, pulling out a plastic bag. ‘Have you ever seen this before?’
A small figurine was in the bag. Yuichi gaped. There was no doubt in his mind it was Kikuchi’s missing key chain.
‘Looks like you have seen it.’
If he told them who it belonged to, would Kikuchi become a suspect? But, if he lied, things might get worse for him, quick.
‘Well?’ the detective asked again, rapping his fingers on the table. The sound felt like needles pricking at Yuichi’s skin.
Yuichi swallowed and told them.
It was Thursday morning when the announcement came. All students were to leave school by no later than five o’clock, even if they had after-school activities. They were reminded of the new rule again by their teacher in homeroom.
It seemed only natural to Eriko. When she thought about what she’d seen the other day, she felt like even five was too late, and every student should go home right when classes ended.
But all the other students complained. It was a testament to how well they had covered up the incident. It was safe to say that no one else in the school knew what had happened two nights ago in the storehouse so close to campus.
Of course there were rumours, and some bore a resemblance to the truth. One was that a pervert had attacked a student on the way home from school. But even then, they could have made that up just from reading the announcement. Eriko couldn’t imagine any of the teachers talking, and neither she nor Yukiho had said a word. No one even knew that they were the ones who had found the victim.
It had been Yukiho who suggested they keep it to themselves. She had called Eriko that night after they got home.
‘Miyako must be in shock, having that happen to her. If people start talking about it… I mean, what if she does something? What if she kills herself? So I was thinking we should keep it to ourselves. Maybe we can stop the rumours from starting.’
It was a wise suggestion, Eriko thought. She told her friend that she had planned on staying quiet, too.
Miyako Fujimura had been her classmate in second year. She was a good student with a cheerful personality, a natural leader in class. She wasn’t Eriko’s favourite person, however. Miyako had a tendency to lash out whenever she felt her pride was being injured, which was often. She also never thought twice about saying bad things about people. There were others who felt the same way about her, Eriko was sure. If they heard about what had happened, they would be right up there in front, leading the rumour mill.
That day at lunch Eriko ate with Yukiho at their desks by the window. No one else was around.
‘So the story is that Fujimura’s off because she was in a traffic accident,’ Yukiho told her in a quiet voice.
‘Really?’
‘Nobody suspects anything yet. I don’t know how long that will last, though.’
When she had finished lunch, Yukiho took out her patchwork and looked out of the window. ‘Doesn’t seem like any of those boys are here today.’
Eriko looked up. ‘Which boys?’
‘The ones that are always on the fence.’
Eriko looked outside. It was true. During lunch break, the boys could usually be seen out there, hanging on the fence like geckos, but today the fence was clear. ‘Maybe they heard about what happened and their teachers told them not to come.’
‘Could be.’
‘I wonder if one of them did it?’ Eriko said quietly. ‘I don’t hear anything good about that school. I’m glad I don’t go there.’
‘I don’t know,’ Yukiho said. ‘I’m sure some of the kids there aren’t bad. They just don’t have any other choice if their families can’t afford to send them anywhere else.’
‘Well, sure, but…’ Eriko’s voice trailed off. She looked down at Yukiho’s hands and smiled. She was almost done sewing the purse she’d shown her the other day at her house. ‘You’re almost finished.’
‘Yep. Just the final touches left.’
‘But why do the initials say RK?’ Eriko asked. ‘Shouldn’t it be YK for Yukiho?’
‘This is for my mother. Her name’s Reiko.’
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ Eriko said, watching Yukiho’s fingers deftly work the needle.
It was clear that the police suspected Kikuchi. He was questioned in the school office by detectives on Thursday morning, though he never told anyone what they asked, or what he told them and he was called out of class again on Friday morning. He made his way to the door, weaving through the desks, making eye contact with no one.
‘I heard someone attacked one of the girls at Seika,’ one of the kids said after Kikuchi had left the room. ‘And they think it’s him. They found something of his at the scene.’
‘Who told you that crap?’ Yuichi asked.
‘Somebody heard the teachers talking about it. It sounds like it was real bad.’
‘What do they mean, “attack”? Did he rape her?’ another boy asked, his face alight with curiosity.
‘Yeah, probably. And took her money too,’ the first boy added meaningfully.
Yuichi sensed the other kids listening, nodding, understanding. They all knew that Kikuchi’s family wasn’t rich.
‘But Kikuchi says he didn’t do it, right?’ Yuichi said. ‘Wasn’t he at the movies when it happened or something?’
They weren’t listening to him. ‘He totally did it,’ said another student, and several of the kids agreed. A circle had formed and Yuichi was surprised to see Ryo joining in. He usually avoided gossip, though Yuichi wondered if his interest wasn’t more about the photo Kikuchi had shown him the other day.
Yuichi watched them for a while, until his eyes met Ryo’s. Ryo returned his gaze for just one or two seconds before he slipped out of the circle and returned to his desk.
On the Saturday, four days after the assault, Eriko and Yukiho went to visit Miyako Fujimura at home. It had been Yukiho’s suggestion that they go.
They waited in the living room, but Miyako didn’t appear. Instead her mother came down and told them that Miyako still wasn’t receiving any visitors. She sounded genuinely sorry.
‘Was she badly hurt?’ Eriko asked.
‘No, not too bad…’ Miyako’s mother gave a short sigh.
‘Do they know who did it?’ Yukiho asked. ‘The police have been asking us a lot of questions.’
The mother shook her head. ‘No, not yet. I’m sorry they’ve been after you so much.’
‘No, it’s fine. I was just wondering if Miyako might have seen who it was,’ Yukiho said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
‘No.’ The mother shook her head. ‘Whoever it was put a bag over her head from behind, so she couldn’t see a thing. Then they hit her, and she blacked out.’ Miyako’s mother’s eyes were red and she put her hands to her face. ‘I was worried because she was coming home late every day, staying after class to get ready for the school festival. I think she felt responsible because she was in charge of the band, so she stayed even later than the other kids —’
Eriko truly hoped the woman didn’t cry. She wanted to leave. Yukiho must have felt the same way, because she looked at her and said, ‘Maybe we should go home.’
‘Yeah,’ Eriko said, gathering her things.
‘I’m really sorry she couldn’t see you,’ the mother said. ‘After you came out all this way.’
‘It’s no problem. We just hope she gets better soon,’ Yukiho said.
‘Thank you. Oh, and…’ Miyako’s mother looked up at both of them. ‘I know what you saw, and that her clothes were taken off, but they didn’t touch her, you know. Her body, I mean.’
Eriko understood what she was trying to say. She exchanged surprised looks with Yukiho. Neither of them had used the word, but they had both assumed Miyako had been raped.
‘Of course,’ Yukiho said, in a voice that made it sound like they had never even suspected such a thing could happen.
‘Also, I know you’ve both done a really good job keeping this to yourselves and I was hoping you could continue to do so. I’m afraid if people start talking they might say things that could hurt her… hurt her future.’
‘We understand,’ Yukiho said crisply. ‘We won’t tell anyone, I promise. And if we hear any rumours, we’ll deny them right away. Please let Miyako know her secret is safe with us.’
‘Thank you. I’m glad she has such good friends. We won’t forget this,’ the mother said, tears in her eyes.
Suspicion over Kikuchi had lifted by Saturday – at least that was what Yuichi heard when he came in to school on Monday morning. Word was that Muta had been called in to talk to the detectives that morning.
Yuichi went to Kikuchi to get the whole story, but his friend just stared at him before looking back at the blackboard and saying, his voice rough, ‘Yeah, I’m off the hook. It’s done. Over.’
‘Well, that’s good, right?’ Yuichi said brightly. ‘How’d you get them off your back?’
‘I proved I went to the movies that night.’
‘How?’
‘See…’ He folded his arms across his chest and gave a deep sigh. ‘I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Unless you wanted me to get arrested?’
‘What are you talking about? Of course I didn’t want you to get arrested.’
‘Then maybe you could just drop it, OK? I don’t even want to think about it. Makes me sick to my stomach.’ Kikuchi kept his eyes on the blackboard the whole time, without a single glance at Yuichi. It was obvious he was upset with him. Maybe he had an inkling of who had told them the keychain was his.
Yuichi racked his brain trying to come up with a way to mend relations. Then he got an idea. ‘Hey, Kikuchi, remember that photo? If you wanted to look into that some more, I’ll go with you.’
‘What’re you talking about?’
‘That photo with Ryo’s mom and the guy. I thought that whole thing sounded pretty cool.’
‘Oh, that.’ Kikuchi frowned. ‘I’ve given up on that. I mean, it’s got nothing to do with me. It was a long time ago, too. No one even remembers any of that any more.’
‘But didn’t you say —’
‘Besides,’ Kikuchi cut him off, ‘I lost the photo. Maybe I threw it out by accident when I was cleaning my room the other day.’
‘No way —’
When Yuichi saw the stony look on Kikuchi’s face his words left him. He didn’t look sorry he had lost the photograph one bit.
‘It’s not like you cared about that picture anyway, right?’ Kikuchi said, looking at him. Actually, it was more of a glare than a look.
‘Well, no, I guess not.’ Yuichi shrugged.
Kikuchi stood and left his desk. Talking time was over.
Yuichi watched him go, a mix of emotions in his chest. Then he felt someone else’s eyes on him. He turned and saw Ryo looking at him. The boy’s cold, calculating stare gave Yuichi a chill.
It was over a moment later. Ryo looked back down at his desk and started reading a book. There was a patchwork bag on the desk next to his book, embroidered with the initials ‘RK.’
Yuichi was walking home from school that afternoon when someone ran up and grabbed him on the shoulder. He looked around to see Muta glaring at him, rage in his eyes. Two of his friends were behind him. They all had the same look on their faces.
‘Come on,’ Muta growled in a low voice that made Yuichi feel like his heart was being squeezed out of his chest.
They dragged Yuichi into a narrow alleyway. Muta stood directly in front of him with his two cronies holding Yuichi on either side. Muta grabbed Yuichi by his collar, lifting him up until Yuichi had to stand on tiptoe.
‘You sold me out,’ Muta said.
Yuichi shook his head furiously. His face was drawn tight with fear.
‘You squealed.’ Muta bared his teeth as he brought his face closer to Yuichi’s. ‘You’re the only one who could have.’
Yuichi kept shaking his head. ‘I didn’t say anything. Honest!’
‘Liar,’ the boy to his left said. ‘We’re going to fuck you up.’
‘Tell the truth!’ Muta gave Yuichi a violent shake.
Yuichi felt his back pressed up against the wall, the coolness of the concrete through his shirt.
‘Honest. It’s not a lie! I didn’t say a word.’
‘Really?’
‘Really!’ Yuichi pleaded.
Muta glared at him for a moment, then suddenly released him. The boy to his right swore under his breath.
Yuichi put a hand to his own throat and swallowed. That was close.
But the next moment, Muta’s face twisted into a wicked grin. There was no time to react, not even time to shout. With the first hit, Yuichi was down on all fours.
He could feel the side of his face stinging and belatedly realised he’d been punched.
‘It was you!’ Muta shouted, and Yuichi felt something enter his mouth. He was already lying with his back on the ground by the time he understood it had been the tip of Muta’s shoe.
There was a cut in his mouth, and he tasted blood. Tastes like sucking on a coin, he thought, as a staggering pain washed over him. Yuichi put his face in his hands and curled into a ball as the boys kicked him in the ribs, over and over.
Journey Under The Midnight Sun Journey Under The Midnight Sun - Higashino Keigo Journey Under The Midnight Sun