by Constantine
“No, I don’t.” Kasumi glanced quickly at her sister to shoot her a hard glare. “But you wouldn’t know that, given how infrequently we see you.”
Kyoko sighed and rolled down her window.
“I hope you’re not thinking of lighting up a cigarette.”
The urge to smack her sister built up inside her, but Kyoko suppressed it. “I’m just rolling down the window. That’s it.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
The silence that passed between them wasn’t more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Every now and then, Kyoko stole a glance at Kasumi. Both hands on the wheel, and Kyoko could see it was a tight grip. Studying her sister’s face, Kyoko saw Kasumi bite her lower lip.
During their childhood, Kasumi would have that exact same look on her face whenever she was nervous. Like the time they were playing Sailor Moon in the living room and Kasumi accidentally knocked over a glass cat figurine their mother loved. The head broke clean off. And when their mother asked them what happened, Kyoko took the blame.
Now she felt the need to come to her sister’s aid again.
“What do you and Mom fight about?” she asked.
“Little things,” said Kasumi. “She sometimes thinks I’m too lenient with Nao. Says I need to give her more structure.”
Thinking back to their childhood, Kyoko remembered how their mother would try and make sure they were always occupied with something that she felt would enrich their futures.
“You’re doing fine.”
Kasumi gave a quick glance to her sister, then turned back to the road. They came to a stop at a red light.
“Sometimes I envy you.”
Kyoko’s eyes widened. She blinked and looked at her sister. “Did I just hear that right?”
“I mean, you’re kind of a rebel.” Kasumi looked at her. “You’re stronger than I could ever be. What you did tonight, getting up and walking out of there? Would you believe I’ve wanted to do that exact same thing so many times?”
A smile spread across Kyoko’s lips, but she wouldn’t allow herself to laugh. It felt strange to hear Kasumi—who so often played the role of the model daughter—to say something like that.
“It’s just…”
Kasumi’s continuation of her thought was like a trigger. A feeling that she was going to say something to get back on their mother’s side crept inside Kyoko.
“Just what?”
“It’s just…why don’t you ever let things go?”
The light turned green. The car remained stationary. Kasumi stared at Kyoko.
“‘Let things go?’” Kyoko repeated the words only once out loud, but an echo continued its reverberation in her head.
“You know what she’s like. Getting into fights with her, when has it ever ended well?”
The cars behind them honked, and once Kasumi realized the light had changed, she stepped on the accelerator and the van shot forward through the intersection.
“You guys fight and argue and yell at each other. And then you retreat to your separate corners.”
The car’s speed continued to increase. Kyoko glanced over at the speedometer and saw the needle easily slide past sixty kilometers per hour.
“You wanna slow down?”
The speedometer clicked up.
“And then you go back to your job and your life and you leave Dad and me to clean up the mess.”
Moving past seventy.
“Kasumi, you’re going a little fast…”
“Mom calls me up on the phone screaming her head off, forcing me to take her side in things. And I try to stand up for you, I really do.”
“Okay, I believe you.”
Kyoko’s eyes were glued to the speedometer. The sound of honking drew her stare to the windshield and she saw they were in the middle of an intersection with the light red.
“I believe you, sis. But you have to slow down!”
The next light was red. Cars were passing through it. From the look Kyoko saw on Kasumi’s face, it didn’t seem like it mattered.
“Kas! Stop the damn car now!”
A realization flashed across Kasumi’s face. She gasped and slammed on the brake. The minivan’s tires screeched before finally coming to a stop right at the crosswalk. Pedestrians had jumped away from it to avoid being hit, and now they all glared at the driver.
For her part, Kasumi was breathing heavily. Her nerves were clearly overworked. It took a few seconds, but finally her eyes drifted to meet Kyoko’s.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just…a little worked up.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“Can I…?” Kasumi looked away and swallowed. “Can I have one of those cigarettes?”
“Thought Hiro hated the smell of smoke.”
“I’ll buy an air freshener on the way home.”
“And if he still notices?”
Kasumi hesitated for a moment. Then she looked up at Kyoko with a smile. “Fuck it, I’ll tell him you wouldn’t listen.”
With a laugh, Kyoko produced the pack of Seven Stars and took out two. Putting them both between her lips, Kyoko lit them simultaneously, then took one and handed it to Kasumi.
Once accepting the cigarette, Kasumi took a long, slow drag on it. The light turned green just as she’d begun to exhale.
“Think you can drive without killing us both?” asked Kyoko.
A nod followed and Kasumi stepped on the accelerator, just enough to get the car moving and at the speed limit. Both windows rolled down while Kasumi took another drag, and she blew smoke through the opening.
“At least try to minimize the damage,” she said.
Kyoko did as her sister wished, holding her cigarette outside the window and blowing her smoke in that direction as well. Silence followed for another few moments before Kasumi finally decided to speak up once again.
“I was wondering. When you quit the police…”
Kyoko closed her eyes. A slow drag on the cigarette. The sound of traffic outside her window. This was one topic she tried to keep buried in her past. Something she never wanted to remember again.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m sorry, I was just curious. I mean, you never told me or Mom…not even Dad. So far as I know, that is.”
“Dad doesn’t know, either. The only people who know are the ones who were involved.” Kyoko opened her eyes, turning her head towards her sister. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”
There was a moment of hesitation in her sister’s face, hesitation that worried Kyoko of the possibility Kasumi would press the matter. But instead, she didn’t say anything.
“Okay, it’s no problem.”
Another beat of silence.
“But…”
Kyoko sighed, hoping this wasn’t some passive-aggressive way of pushing the issue.
“I just want you to know that when you’re ready to tell me—if you’re ready to tell me—I’ll listen.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” Smoke filled Kyoko’s lungs with another drag on the cigarette. After exhaling, she glanced at her sister again and offered an olive branch. “But I appreciate the offer.”
Kyoko’s phone beeped. She checked the display and saw a text message from her contact at the university: ‘Three different matches. Your girl was pretty busy.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Another night wandering around Shinsekai, another night of being called at by hostess club employees on the street, trying to entice passersby into their establishment. Another night of Nobu looking for a needle in a haystack.
Some of the hostess clubs had photos of their most-popular girls out front. Nobu would stop and study them, hoping to find one that resembled Akane. But each time, he found no one who could qualify.
While walking past another bank of neon club signs, one of them in particular caught his eye. Nobu stopped in his tracks and read it carefully, again and again. Four katakana characters, spelling out the word IDOL in
Japanese syllables.
“You gotta be kidding me…”
“Hey there, you look kind of lonely.”
Nobu looked at the voice and saw a girl not more than twenty approach him. She had on a short, red dress and her blond hair was done up, with plenty of make-up applied to her face.
“Maybe I am,” he said, offering her a smile.
“You wanna come upstairs? My friends will keep you company.”
This could be the break they were waiting for. Nobu would be an idiot if he didn’t take this opportunity. So he motioned to the elevator. “Shall we?”
The girl smiled warmly at him. She took him by the arm and escorted him to the elevator. The doors closed on them and they rode up together. Nobu reached inside his jeans and drew out his cell phone. With a few taps, he brought up Akane’s picture and held it so the girl could see.
“Do you know her?”
“Aww, you’re gonna hurt my feelings.” She rested her head on his upper arm. “Here I thought you were coming to visit me, but it looks like you’ve already got a girlfriend.”
Nobu chuckled. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’d just heard she worked here and was curious.”
The girl looked at the photo and frowned. “Don’t think I’ve seen her before. But, I’m pretty new here, don’t really know all the girls yet.”
“Anyone…leave recently?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?” She smiled at Nobu. “That’s actually how I got the job. They needed someone else to take over this other girl’s schedule.”
“You don’t know her name, do you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t. But I bet Miki does!”
“Miki?”
“She’s one of the most-popular girls. Been here for a year, too. So she’ll definitely know your friend!”
The doors opened and the girl led Nobu towards the door with IDOL stamped on it. She opened it for him and took him inside. A young man in a white shirt, vest, tie, and slacks stood by the door and bowed to Nobu, greeting him with the phrase, “Irasshaimase!”
The girl spoke to him for a few moments and the man responded with confirmations to each part. Finally, he told her he understood and bowed. The girl looked at Nobu.
“I have to go back downstairs. But I told him you’d like to spend time with Miki tonight. He said it was no problem.”
“Thanks, you’ve been a big help…umm…”
“Ai.”
Nobu smiled and bowed to her. “Ai. I’ll remember that. I’m Nobu.”
“Nice meeting you Nobu. And you’d better not forget.”
She flashed him one last smile before returning to the elevator. The host drew Nobu’s attention from Ai’s departing figure and gestured deeper into the establishment. Nobu followed him inside.
The hostess club had a small bar along the side of the entrance, with a bartender dressed similar to the hostess. Several stools at the bar were occupied by men in suits speaking to hostesses wearing fancy dresses, as if they were going to the prom.
Past the bar was an open area. Benches wrapped all around the length of the perimeter, with tables spaced apart. Several were occupied. Some were groups of men with a girl on each of their arms, others were like the bar—just one man and a girl.
Nobu hated places like these. Paying out the nose just so a pretty girl can smile as you complain about your job or your wife. It seemed like such a waste of money. But he was here to work, not to play. He only hoped this wouldn’t break his wallet before his next paycheck.
The host directed Nobu to an empty corner and he sat on the cushion. After confirming Miki would be here in a moment, the host bowed and left Nobu alone.
“Hi there.”
The greeting came after Nobu had been sitting alone for a few moments. He looked up from his phone and saw Miki. She wore a long, blue dress that shimmered with her movements. Her black hair was perfectly coifed and she had a dazzling smile. He also noticed her eyes were a bluish color—colored contacts, obviously.
“I’m Miki,” she said, bowing.
Nobu stood and bowed to her. “Nobu.”
Miki moved to Nobu’s side and they both sat down. She pushed herself close to him, resting a hand on his knee. “So, Nobu-san, do you want something to drink?”
“How about a highball?”
“Mind if I join you?”
Nobu was afraid of that. At these places, drinks for the customer were included with the hourly rate. But drinks for the girls, those cost a surcharge per each. And usually an expensive one. He had no choice, though. If he was going to get any information out of Miki, he would have to pay for it. So he nodded and smiled.
Miki called a waiter over and placed the order. They spent some time on introductions, with Nobu telling her just as much about his life as he felt comfortable. He didn’t mention too much about the less-savory aspects of his past, nor did he tell her that he worked for a private detective agency.
For her part, Miki seemed fairly open. But Nobu knew from experience that many of these girls would fudge details about their life. Most of the time, the name they used inside the club wasn’t even their real name.
Before he realized it, an hour had already come and gone. Nobu would have to push deeper into the conversation or else he might end up being here all night. He took a sip of the highball—there was no question about it, this was cheap well whiskey, definitely not worth what they charged.
“I’m curious about something, Miki,” he began.
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“About the girl who pulled me in here.”
Miki frowned. “You’re not bored with me already, are you?”
“No, nothing like that. But she said she just started, taking over another girl’s schedule.”
“Yeah, she did. We had a girl here, started about the same time as me. But she just disappeared.”
“What was her name?”
“Rina.”
Nobu had to be sure. He took out his phone and showed Miki the photo. “Is this Rina?”
Miki took the phone and studied the image. She tilted her head to the side—seemed like she wasn’t quite certain. But then she nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s her. Do you know her?”
“Kind of. What happened to her?”
Miki shrugged. “No one really knows. She didn’t show up for work for a few days. Boss tried calling her phone, but no answer. After a few days, that new girl showed up and no one mentioned Rina again.”
“So you knew Rina?”
“Yeah, sure. Like I said, we started about the same time.”
“How often was she working here?”
“Few nights a week.”
“You know anything about her? I mean, before she started working here?”
Miki sipped her drink, then shook her head. “Not really.”
“Did she ever…” Nobu cleared his throat and leaned closer to Miki, whispering so no one else could hear. “She ever go home with any customers?”
Miki looked down, both hands wrapped around her glass. Her lips were parted, but she wasn’t saying anything. Nobu took a sip from his drink, watching her face.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, just…” She shook her head, then added in a whisper, somewhat harshly, “We’re not prostitutes.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that you are…”
“Why do you have so many questions about Rina anyway?” asked Miki. “You’re not…some kind of stalker or something, are you?”
Nobu sighed. This wasn’t working the way he hoped, and he would have to play things a little differently. He took out his card case and produced one of his business cards, setting it on the table.
“Look, I’m a private detective,” he said, whispering. “The reason Rina stopped coming in is because she’s dead.”
“Dead?” Miki’s voice spiked in volume. Other conversations around them silenced. The waiter approached their table, with two guys flanking him—one bald, one with a full
head of hair. They wore dark suits and shirts with no tie. And they were pretty well-built with hard faces.
“I’m sorry, sir. But your time is up.” The waiter handed Nobu a small clipboard with a bill attached to it. “Please pay the fee and these gentlemen will escort you out.”
Nobu looked at the charge. He took out his wallet. He took a single bill out, labeled ¥10,000, and handed it and the clipboard back to the waiter.
“Let’s go,” said the bald one.
Nobu walked towards the exit, the men following him. He was going to go to the elevator, but they pulled him away from it and pushed him towards the stairs. Literally pushed—Nobu lost his footing and tumbled down the steps. He stopped once he hit the landing on the next floor. Pain stung throughout his body and it was tough to move. Nobu looked up and saw the man with hair coming towards him down the steps.
“Looks like he can’t hold his booze.”
“Hate bastards like that. Always make an embarrassment of themselves. Don’t you hate guys like that?”
“They’re the worst.”
Nobu was forced down the next flight of steps. Even though he expected it this time, the pain from the first fall made it difficult to fight back. He hit the landing on the next floor and struggled to get up. The bald guy came towards him first this time and as he pulled Nobu up, Nobu took a chance.
He swung, putting his strength into a punch. There was a connection and baldy grunted and cringed. Nobu grabbed him by his jacket and delivered a headbutt, then released the lapels so baldy fell into his partner.
With that distraction, Nobu tried to get ahead. He started running down the steps, but he heard footsteps behind him. There was a blow on his back. Nobu fell again, landing face-down on the third-floor landing. One of the men grabbed him by his hair and slammed his face against the landing. Then dragged him forward and threw him down the steps.
Nobu tumbled, each stair creating a new bruise on his body. Then the second-floor landing. He was forced to his feet and before he could focus his vision, something hard struck his face. A fist, probably. It hit again.
The back of Nobu’s head struck the wall. He was grabbed by his shirt and thrown. When he struck the ground, he could hear the sounds of Shinsekai. The scents of fresh yakitori and takoyaki filled his nostrils.
