The Gate of Sorrows

by Miyuki Miyabe

  On the other hand, if nothing at all happened, it would be best to let things drop. Kotaro would wait to see which way they went.

  Before the new term started, he made one more visit to Shigenori in the hospital, and to the Nagasakis. At the hospital, Shigenori was off somewhere getting X-rayed, but his wife was in his room. Kotaro had the feeling that this smartly dressed, genial woman was almost wasted on Shigenori.

  “I got to know your husband online,” he said, which at least sounded plausible.

  “Really? All he seems to think about since the end of last year is that computer of his.”

  “When I heard he was a detective, I was so fascinated that I pestered him into meeting.”

  “You must’ve been disappointed then. He’s just a regular old guy. Not very approachable, I’m afraid.”

  Kotaro didn’t know what story Shigenori had cooked up to explain that night at the tea caddy building, followed by his sudden admission to the hospital. But he had the feeling that whatever it was, Toshiko had seen right through it. She was a very smart lady.

  After half an hour chatting with no sign of Shigenori, he excused himself. Toshiko cheerfully invited him to drop by once her husband was out of the hospital.

  At the Nagasaki mansion, Mana greeted him like any little girl. Her face was still not as animated as other children’s her age, and she didn’t speak much, but Hatsuko said she was opening up more and more each day.

  “We owe everything to you. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  After he had untangled himself from Hatsuko’s weepy embrace, he spent an hour or so in the big garden playing ball with Mana. Kotaro loved her throaty giggling; it sounded like someone was tickling her. For the first time in a long while, he relaxed and enjoyed himself. Seeing how far Mana had come since their first meeting, the mysteries and strange happenings of life hardly seemed to matter.

  April came. Kotaro was a sophomore. Kazumi was in ninth grade; her high school entrance exams lay ahead. Mika was an eighth grader.

  Spurred by Yuriko’s final warning, Kotaro managed—after the usual struggle—to get some face time alone with his sister so he could ask how Mika was doing. Kazumi was flatly irritated at having to deal with the same topic again, but her reaction eased Kotaro’s mind.

  “Why do you keep bringing that up? It’s all over. Completely. I mean, you’re the one who said problems like that blow over all of a sudden.”

  “Okay, I know I said that. But if the problem dies down too suddenly, you know, something minor might set it off again or something. What about this guy Gaku? The one who started it all? Did he get into the school he was aiming for?”

  “No. He didn’t.” Kazumi was caustic. “He was totally sure he’d make the cut, then he goes and blows it just like that. He had to scramble to come up with Plan B. He finally got in someplace else. Not as good, obviously. But they have a strong tennis team. He’s been blabbing to everyone that he’ll come out of this even more on top.”

  She laughed coldly. Kotaro had never heard her so dismissive.

  “So, what about Mika?”

  “She blew him off completely. So much for the big confession of love. I’m sure he’s a lot more worried about his future right now.

  “Glitter Kitty stopped posting, and all those girls who were kissing up to Gaku are devastated. I mean, he didn’t even come close to getting in. Now he looks even worse ’cause he was acting so stuck-up before. His reputation is toast.”

  “Serves him right.”

  “It sure does, but that sounds a little childish coming from you.”

  Kazumi had a sharp tongue. If that was how things stood, then they must really be okay, Kotaro thought.

  Becoming a sophomore didn’t bring much new to his college life, but things at Kumar were changing. Kaname and Kotaro had a new workmate named Makoto Miyama. With a last name that began with the same letter as Kotaro’s, they would have sat near each other in middle school and high school. That would have suited Kotaro, because he liked Makoto. He and Kaname quickly became friends too. She called him Mako-chan.

  Makoto wasn’t in college. He’d just completed a year of study in computer science at a technical school. In this industry it helped to be young, and what was most important was hands-on experience, not classroom study—which is what he said when he showed up one day at Kumar, résumé in hand, and asked for a job. Seigo must’ve liked his boldness, because he hired him on the spot.

  “But Mako-chan, they’re closing this office pretty soon,” Kaname said.

  “I know. It’s okay. I’m from Sapporo. Kumar needs people like me. Seigo told me working here would show me there are some things you need to learn in school. If he’s right, I might think about going to college in Sapporo.”

  “You’re a very forward-thinking young guy,” Kaname enthused.

  “We’re young too, you know,” Kotaro said.

  “But Mako-chan’s more, you know, pure and innocent. It’s blowing my mind.”

  Kaname was a sophomore too. She had a heavier class load and her seminars were taking up more of her time. Having a third member of the team was more than welcome. Makoto learned the ropes quickly.

  The serial murder case had stalled completely. The news had reported everything there was to report too many times. The lack of fresh information was becoming embarrassing.

  Could crimes that were so flagrant and reprehensible, so lurid and shocking to the public, really just peter out unsolved? Kotaro asked his father this over dinner one evening when Takayuki, unusually, arrived home in time to join them.

  “Sure, it’s happened before,” he said as he tucked into the food. Kotaro was taken by surprise.

  “I didn’t know you followed that stuff, Dad.”

  “I don’t. One of the weeklies had a special feature. Some of the journalists covering this story are starting to think it may never be solved. If we’re lucky, just when people have forgotten it happened, the killer will screw up and get arrested for something minor. Then when they check his fingerprints or DNA, they’ll find out he’s the killer.”

  “That sounds pretty optimistic.”

  “That’s how they caught Tsutomu Miyazaki. Most serial killers in the States are picked up for something minor too.”

  That’s no way to solve a case, though Kotaro. He sent Kaname and Makoto a mail asking if they’d heard anything from the team that Seigo had formed to work on the case.

  Pulled the plug, Kaname wrote back, copying Makoto.

  I heard it was disbanded, Makoto added, copying Kaname. Are you going to try to solve it yourself?

  This left Kotaro even more irritated. If only the Serial Amputator case could be solved, it would make the other mysteries weighing on him a little easier to bear.

  The search for Kenji Morinaga was going nowhere. Everyone’s interest and concern seemed to be dwindling. The detective in charge of the investigation stopped visiting Kumar. Seigo and Narita didn’t mention it, and as for Kaname, pretty much all she could talk about was Mako-chan this, Mako-chan that. Are they dating or something? Does she have a crush on him?

  Ayuko Yamashina was different too, and that had a certain influence on Kumar. Her search for sponsors for her new nonprofit venture had transformed her into an aggressive media promoter. She even landed a spot on a weekly national news program as a commentator.

  Ayuko was attractive and knew how to dress the part. She was brilliant, in fact, and eloquent enough to beat Seigo in a debate if she had a mind to. She immediately captured the spotlight, but this also made her a target of gossip and slander on the Internet. Ninety-five percent of it was ridiculous, but the rest was viciously hostile threats or the twisted, obsessive comments of stalkers. Security at Kumar was tightened and Ayuko avoided going anywhere alone. She and Seigo stopped visiting each other’s homes and finally moved in together.

  Kotaro
felt a little lonely, but things were clear now, which had its advantages. He genuinely felt good in a way. He wasn’t just putting up a front.

  “Kotaroh, please take me to your campus!”

  “For what?”

  “Ooh, that’s so antisocial.”

  It was the end of April, just before the Golden Week holidays. Summer was ahead of schedule, and Kotaro was wearing a T-shirt under his thin parka. Kaname’s sleeveless one-piece had drawn a tart “Isn’t it a little early for that?” from him.

  With only the two of them to cover the shifts, Kotaro and Kaname had hardly had any chance to socialize outside Kumar. But with Makoto on the island, things were different.

  “I just wanted to visit a nice city campus.” Kaname pouted.

  “Sure, if you say so. Don’t you want to invite Mako-chan too?”

  “Why?”

  This was a difficult question to tackle head-on. Kotaro couldn’t think of an answer.

  “Are you jealous, Ko-chan?”

  Is it okay to ask me that outright? And what’s with “Ko-chan”? It sounds a little weird.

  “I’m surprised. I thought you only had eyes for our president.” Kaname grinned.

  “Time out—what’s that supposed to mean?” Asking women for time out seemed to be the story of Kotaro’s life.

  “It means what it means. You’re smitten with her, aren’t you?” Kaname was a true lit major. Women her age never used “smitten.”

  “I admire her. Get it straight.”

  “It’s not very masculine if you can’t even admit your real feelings.”

  And so it went from there. They decided to visit Kotaro’s campus on May Day, in the middle of the vacation.

  “I want to visit the library. And have lunch in the cafeteria, definitely.”

  “Who’s paying?”

  “Who do you think?”

  Kumar never slept, not during Golden Week or any other holiday, but the company was humane enough to let members arrange their shifts so they could spend more than a day or two with their loved ones. As it happened, Makoto also ended up with a day off on May 1.

  “Would you mind if I joined you guys? It looks like we’re off on the same day. I want to try the cafeteria.” A recent TV program had featured a tour of campus cafeterias known for their food. Kotaro’s school had rated near the top.

  “Are you kidding? So that’s the real reason,” Kotaro said to Kaname.

  “I heard you’re one of those people who can pig out and stay thin,” Makoto chimed in.

  “Why don’t the two of you just make a date of it?” Kotaro said sarcastically.

  “What?” Makoto said. “I’ve got a girlfriend.”

  I don’t understand kids these days. Kotaro threw in the towel.

  They rendezvoused on campus at ten that morning and audited a lecture on the history of science. Attendance wasn’t taken, and the lecture hall was mostly empty because of the holiday. It almost helped that Makoto and Kaname were there.

  “I heard your professor is famous in his field,” Kaname said.

  “You’re joking. This class is super boring.”

  “Teaching isn’t his main job. He’s an academic,” Makoto said. “That’s the basic contradiction of higher education. Students come to learn, but academics don’t come to teach.”

  In the library, Kaname and Makoto flitted among the shelves, entranced. They had different interests, but both loved books. Kotaro settled in a corner of the reading room, booted up his laptop and surfed the web to kill the hour before lunch.

  “Can we come back after?” Kaname said. “For like, another hour.”

  “Is it really that interesting?”

  “They have everything here. I could stay all day.”

  “I’ve got a shift at two.”

  “Then you and me better have a big lunch,” she said to Makoto.

  “You’re on!”

  The menu was shorter than usual because of the holidays, but the cafeteria was still fairly crowded. The TV coverage seemed to have had an effect.

  “There are whole families here. They’re not even students.” Kaname exempted herself and Makoto from her stern judgment. “Hey, the fried chicken lunch is sold out!”

  “Don’t get mad. The ground meat croquettes are great,” Kotaro said.

  They ordered three different lunch sets and sides of macaroni gratin, pizza toast, crab croquettes, and miso soup with pork.

  “Anything going on?” Kaname asked Kotaro as she dived into the food. She’d noticed him using his laptop in the library.

  “Nothing new.”

  “Things sure were noisy in my neighborhood this morning,” Makoto said. “I live near Yoyogi Park. It’s always like this on May Day. I heard they used to have union riots in the old days.”

  “That’s a pretty nice neighborhood, though. You’re lucky.”

  “It’s a rooming house. A really old residence, the kind with mortar on the walls outside. The son grew up and moved out, so the husband and wife rent the extra space to students. Comes with breakfast and dinner.”

  “But you eat at Kumar sometimes, don’t you?”

  “Sure, but I eat again when I get home.” Makoto was another avid eater. It was one of his biggest pleasures. “The landlord makes way better food than I can get in a convenience store. Healthier too. Sometimes I go to the market with the family and help bring the groceries back.”

  “Hmm. Do your trips to the supermarket include West Shinjuku?” Kotaro asked.

  “Sometimes. Not always.”

  “Do you know that religious organization there? House of Light?”

  “Are they in that neighborhood? Okay, that explains why there’s pamphlets in the mailbox sometimes.”

  “Well, I advise you to stay away from them. Your parents would flip.”

  “Who knows? Maybe they’re the real deal.”

  “He’s right, Ko-chan. Maybe you should do some patrolling and find out,” Kaname said.

  “Have you ever patrolled any cult sites?”

  “Ayuko had me try it when I came to interview. Once was enough.”

  “I didn’t even know we did that. Did you, Makoto?”

  “Don’t ask me. I haven’t even met the president yet.”

  “That’s right, she was already working on her new thing when you joined.”

  “Maybe she was worried about me because I’m a woman,” Kaname said. “Some cults are pitching stuff girls like, like diet plans and yoga and aromatherapy, as a front.”

  “You’re not attracted to stuff like that.”

  “Who knows? If I was depressed, I might think about it.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll always make the rational decision.”

  Makoto had just placed an entire jumbo crab croquette in his mouth and was reaching for his water when it happened.

  Everyone’s phone rang at the same time—a doorbell for Kotaro, classical music for Kaname, and the sound of a car crash for Makoto.

  “Mako-chan, you can do better than that,” Kaname laughed. They all stared at their phones and exchanged glances as if to say, I knew it.

  They had all received the same mail. Everyone else in Kumar must have as well.

  TO: ALL EMPLOYEES

  CODE BLUE. REPORT TO THE TOKYO OFFICE IMMEDIATELY.

  “What do you think it is?” Kaname buckled down on the last of the gratin. “Maybe there was a break in the amputator case?”

  Makoto was already scanning the news. “I don’t see anything. Yet.”

  “Was there another murder?” Kotaro loaded the empty plates onto a tray with a clatter. “Maeda told me there was a Code Blue when that guy with a knife went nuts in Akihabara.”

  “Is this the first time for you guys?” Makoto asked.

  “Yeah. It’s
kind of a shock.”

  Afterward, everything they said and did, every gesture and facial expression, remained vividly in Kotaro’s memory. Their silly jokes. Kaname blowing on the gratin so she could eat faster. The way Makoto slathered sauce on everything deep-fried. How everything seemed so funny, and how he almost dropped his chopsticks laughing. How they competed to see who could cram the most food in their mouth. How Kaname pointed to a grain of rice stuck to Makoto’s lip and said You’ve got lunch on your face. How hard Makoto laughed. That’s great! Never heard that one before.

  How they stared at each other open-mouthed when Kotaro’s phone went off.

  Because that instant marked the borderline between light and darkness, between fullness and loss. A bright line that could never be erased, a border they could never cross again. The rupture between what lay on the near side of that line and what lay beyond was so deep that everything was utterly transformed. The world as it was just before the line was crossed was burned into Kotaro’s memory.

  He looked at his phone. “It’s Maeda.” Maeda was the senior member of Drug Island, after Seigo. “Speak of the devil. I hope there wasn’t a murder for real.”

  Kaname’s face clouded. Makoto was still glancing at his news feed as he ate. Kotaro exchanged glances with both of them and hit TALK.

  “It’s Kotaro.”

  “Where are you?”

  Maeda was into martial arts and could be a bit scary, but Kotaro had never heard him sound like this.

  “I’m on campus. With Kaname and Makoto.”

  “Ah, right. I heard you guys talking about the cafeteria. Well, it’s good that you’re out and about.” He lowered his voice and spoke hurriedly. “Have you heard?”

  “Heard what?”

  Makoto’s scrolling thumb stopped.

  “I’m glad you said that. Just get back here right now.”

  Makoto’s face stiffened. Kaname noticed. She leaned over to peer at his phone and gasped.

  Kotaro felt something cold on his neck. What’s wrong with her eyes?

  “Kotaro? Are you listening?”

  Kaname covered her mouth with both hands. Wide-eyed, Makoto scrolled quickly down.