YF wrapped a bunch of noodles around his chopsticks and then raised them to his lips, biting into the center of the clump and then shoving the rest into his mouth.
“You don’t slurp?” asked Numata.
“I don’t know.”
Numata chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. “That’s a lie.”
“Just don’t like the sound of it,” said YF.
“I see.” She wrapped a bunch of noodles around her own chopsticks, eating it with little noise. From YF’s angle, it was obvious she was not used to it.
“You doing all right these days?” asked YF.
“Not really,” said Numata.
“Get kicked out of your apartment too?”
“No, my apartment was one of the newer ones in the village. Wasn’t slated for renewal.”
“Well look at you.”
Numata tsked. “Don’t give me that look. I’m not uppity, you know that.”
“True enough.”
Numata stopped eating. YF could feel her staring at the top of his head, so he slowly raised his eyes until they met hers. “What?”
“You…” she started.
“Me what?”
“You need someone to talk to these days?”
“Can’t…really get out of the koban much,” said YF slowly as he continued to eat his noodles.
“I could come visit at the station, on a weekend or when I have off.”
YF held his noodles in the air. The longer he held them there, the more noodles seemed to unwind and fall back into the broth. “I…can’t get work done if you come over. I’d prefer it if you don’t.” He stared down into the bowl and started eating.
“Yeah…sure,” he could hear her say.
“But,” said YF. “If you ever need anything, do let me know. Things are getting more unpredictable these days. Dangerous.”
Numata smiled a somewhat melancholy smile. “Sure. I’ll do that.”
“When we finish I’ll take you to the station. Too bright out.”
“I’ll be fine.”
YF looked back up into her eyes. “I insist.”
“Just to the station then.”
“Just to the station.”
When they finished eating, YF and Numata activated the sun visors on their neck bands and stepped out of the restaurant. They then walked toward the train station, most of the time passed in silence. There were more people on the walkways than usual, likely because it was a Gold Day morning. YF knew it would be a slow evening patrol later that day; the same people on the walkways now would still be asleep by the start of his first round. The crowd grew denser as YF and Numata approached the station. YF continuously turned to check that she was present, which seemed to make her more agitated. Upon arrival, Numata turned into a small alley where several vending machines stood. YF found himself following her away from the station gates automatically. He stopped in front of the first vending machine, just as he felt the shade of the alley fully cover his body and block out the heat of the summer suns. Turning to examine the machine, he could see that several of the display drink canisters were missing. Numata turned around.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hmm?” asked YF.
“Can you lower your visor?”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
YF lowered his visor, and Numata did the same seconds later. For a moment the two of them stared into each other's eyes. Then Numata approached him slowly, until her face was within inches of his. YF did not step back.
She reached one hand behind his neck and raised herself up, kissing him on the cheek slowly before lowering her head. “Goodbye Sakai, we’ll see each other again.”
She winked and raised her sun visor again, brushing past him toward the fare gates. YF stood in the alley silently as he watched Numata brush her wrist over the gate reader. Minutes later, the train pulled into the station. YF saw her board the train, and then waited until it set off toward the east. He reached both hands into his pockets and sighed. YF turned toward the stairs, walking down them and onto the main road.
***
When YF got back to the koban he found himself continuously staring at the wall, wondering what Numata's messaging handle was. After idly searching the net for her information, he soon found her profile on a professional networking site. Before he could press on the “send a message” button though, YF shut his receiver and leaned back in his chair. He was not sure what to think. Though he closed his eyes and began to doze off, the image of Numata's face did not leave his mind. YF wondered what it was he was looking for exactly. For the first time in a while he found himself missing Erika. The image of her face, though, had grown blurry over time. He had also not spoken to her in months; even her voice and mannerisms were becoming a distant memory. YF suddenly opened his eyes.
He decided to call Kita.
"Yes?" Kita answered.
"Make any headway with Nakajima?"
"Did a few sweeps. Didn't seem like he had anything illegal. Why?"
YF frowned. "Uh huh,” he replied.
“And Uwada?”
“Nothing.”
“Really?”
Erika had told him that he was bad at lying. “Really,” he repeated.
“I see.”
“But the moment I solve this, I expect an accelerated transfer to the Ward Office.”
“Sakai-san?”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
“You heard me.”
There was a pause on Kita’s end. “I can convey your wishes to the division chief.”
“That’ll do.”
“I’ll see you soon, Sakai.”
YF hung up. “Huh, she called me ‘san’.”
Right when he was about to pocket his receiver a notification from his messaging app made his heart skip a beat. It was Erika. He raised the receiver to his desk and hovered his thumb over the notification for several seconds before pressing it slowly. He then raised his thumb.
“Hey Babe. Come home when you get a chance. I need to talk to you about something important.”
Many things about the message seemed weird. Erika had not called him ‘babe’ in at least a decade, and she knew that YF did not really consider Ikusayama his ‘home’. ‘Something important’ could be just about anything. Did she want a divorce? Was it something else? But knowing Erika, she would not say more until he went to her. This was also not the usual way she communicated ‘something important’. When he checked his call log though, YF found that Erika had called him once before. He must have been in one of the hostess clubs or something — he did not recall missing it. YF took a deep breath and pocketed his receiver. He would at least need to finish the investigation before going anywhere.
***
“I was informed of your presence at the Sunfire Club the other day,” said Mizuno.
“Is that not allowed?” asked YF
“We were frankly surprised a person as busy as yourself found time to visit us.”
“I’m still investigating the Silver District incident,” YF reminded him.
Mizuno started stirring his coffee. “I don’t understand why some people insist that they like black coffee.”
YF looked down at his black coffee. “What about it?”
“When cream and sugar are available, why reject them?”
“I’m not sure.”
Mizuno stopped stirring. “And so let’s not hide our preferences from each other, Mr. Sakai. How can we be of service?”
“There are still no convictions over who provided weapons for the Silver District incident. The bodies were IDed as street thugs, affiliated with both the Uwada and Nakajima families.”
“Allegedly, affiliated,” said Mizuno.
“In any case it won’t hold, so you’re safe. Who is supplying the weapons?” YF pressed a hand on his coffee, making sure it was still warm.
“Sakai with our past relationship, is it any surprise that sectarians can receive higher powered weapons?”
“The weapons didn’t resemble ones the two of us have seen before.”
“Who has an incentive to sell them?” asked Mizuno.
YF frowned.
“Who lacks money?”
“You already suggested this to me before, Mizuno,” said YF.
“So you heard me the first time, but refused to investigate.”
“And there’s another problem here,” said YF. “Let’s say the suppliers are really lacking funds. Then the goods won’t come cheap, and the prices on the street were already high to begin with. Where is the extra funding coming from?”
Mizuno shrugged as he drank his coffee. “Who knows? With all the push of urban renewal there must be more money to go around these days.”
“So they say, but none of us feel it,” said YF.
“Mr. Sakai.”
“Yes?”
Mizuno drank more of his coffee, but left the last eighth of the drink at the bottom of his cup. “Don’t you want to see justice for what they did to your parents? Your childhood?”
YF chuckled. “We’re not going there. Remember? We’re not that close yet.”
“Fair enough.” Mizuno tidied his suit and stood up. “I have to attend to some business. But please remember, Mr. Sakai. I am always available for old friends. Call anytime.”
“Let’s say you’re right,” said YF.
Mizuno stopped mid-turn.
“Let’s say your guess is right.” YF looked up at him. “Will my people charge their own and close the case?”
“I suppose that’s up to you.”
YF raised his coffee to his lips and downed the entire cup. “I happen to genuinely like black.”
Mizuno smiled.
As Mizuno left, YF waited by himself, reading a months old old political magazine left on the table for at least fifteen minutes. He raised his receiver and pressed through a few screens until he saw a blip on his map. YF then mounted his scooter still sitting outside the cafe and accelerated until he merged onto the arterial road. Another blip did not show on the map for at least two minutes, indicating that Mizuno had already reached the highway and was headed further west into the country. YF grimaced and turned toward the access road, slowly changing lanes until he reached the second to the rightmost lane. When he did, the right most display area of his windshield flashed red, indicating that his vehicle would not move beyond that point.
“Shit!” YF slammed his fist on the windshield before making his way back to a side road and parking in front of an abandoned store. He leaned forward onto the handlebars, tapping his fingers for a few seconds as he pondered his next steps. The first thing he did was to deactivate the spider bot so that it stopped following Mizuno. It would run out of battery trying to keep up on the highway anyhow. After setting it to a return route, he thought about where he could obtain a highway-activated vehicle in case something like this happened again. Toa had already reported back to the barracks, which meant his only real option was Kigali. YF sent Kigali a message to meet him at a spot near the koban at his earliest convenience. He then pocketed his receiver and rode back toward his post.
***
YF pulled the drawer open. He looked down at Takamatsu’s blood substitutes, of which he had taken three times the daily dose already. The blood subs, the guns, the Kamakura Boulevard bombing that ruined his family. Everyone seemed to want to blame the Sentinels, but it seemed like too simple a solution. Kuroda had been Magistrate of Itsugo since YF was a kid. There was a brief period of time when he retired, but he then came back as Magistrate right around the time YF had joined the Village Office. Even if YF wanted answers, though, it was not like he could call Kuroda and ask. YF was not even sure Kuroda knew anything. The man had been like a father to him; YF could not imagine Kuroda being directly involved in any of those events. What YF really needed to do was to get a hold of the Ward Office’s records. He only knew of Toa who could pull something like that off, but she was not available. YF could find out more about Kamakura Boulevard once he was promoted to the Ward Office. But he needed to solve this case for any chance of that. YF held his head in his hands. His receiver rang.
YF lifted his head to see that it was from Kuroda. He pressed the “answer” button. “Sir?”
“I’ve been informed you’re deviating from your set duties and locations. What’s going on?”
“I need relief while I work the Silver District case. Where’s my co-patrolman?”
“There is no relief and you know that. We’re short staffed as it is and I’ve done what I can to give you more equipment. Besides, the Silver District Case is now being handled by Division Four at the Ward, or so I’m told,” said Kuroda. “Something this big is not in our purview.”
“I would like to contribute,” YF replied.
“You want to get promoted.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
YF could hear Kuroda sighing on the other side. “No. But your duties come first.”
“I will handle both adequately. Don’t worry,” YF reassured.
“I can cover for you as long as there are no incidents resulting from you taking time away from your primary schedule. If anything happens beyond that, I will be out of options.”
“Yes sir.” YF heard Kuroda hang up.
Something about Kuroda’s tone bothered YF, though he could not quite place his hand on what it was. Still, Kuroda gave YF some latitude to investigate, which was more than he could have hoped for. YF looked over to the spider bot which was charging in the corner. With no activity in the last week though, there was nowhere he could send the bot anyway. YF frowned. No activity. He pulled the recordings from The Mermaid where Misaki worked, but the audio analyzer did not pick up any new conversation. Only the constant music in the background had played over the past week. Misaki could have taken time off to take care of her mother. But it did not seem plausible she would go away so long — including a full weekend — for that, especially if she needed the money.
YF scrolled through his receiver to the bot control app and typed in a simple logical rule to plant itself near Misaki’s club when it was fully charged. Looking down at his drawer, he remembered that Kigali would arrive at the koban soon. YF breathed out deeply and shoved the drawer back in.
He walked outside, around the wall and to the garage behind the koban. After undoing the latch and opening the door, he stared at the corner where a chest style fridge was situated. A low, constant hum resounding through the room. He walked slowly to the chest and grabbed the handle, lifting the lid up. Inside, multiple packaged meals were stacked neatly in rows. But at the end of the row sat a black box: the black box that Kita had given to him. YF reached both arms into the chest and pulled the box out. He closed the fridge lid and planted the box on top. YF had delayed it as long as he could. But he was not going to take a chance on an episode when Kigali arrived. Not at such a critical moment. YF removed the box lid and placed his hand over the glass vial. The cold from the container quickly sapped the warmth from his hand.