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Jade Rider posted:Let's go with Maria. I always wanna know what Maria's up to.
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Dec 20, 2020 14:59
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 Setup.  No music. I walk counter to the throng of people heading toward the scene of the explosion. There’s a gun pressed against my back, leaving me no choice but to continue marching forward. 428 Tip – Scene of the explosion posted:The explosion happened in Shibuya-ku, Jinnan l-chome, near the intersection of Koen-Dori and Organ Hill. I don’t have time for this right now. There’s something I need to do. My frantic sense of urgency grows and grows. Canaan... The only clue I have is that name; the other hazy snippets that have surfaced in my memory provide no answers.  “Please, just tell me,” I murmur. “Do you know who I am?” When the man with the cane doesn’t answer, I stop in my tracks. “I’m going to start shouting,” I warn him. “If you want to find out who you are, then do as I say.” The barrel of the gun jabs more forcefully into my back. “Once we find Hitomi Osawa, you’ll remember, whether you like it or not.” Guess I have no choice but to keep moving, then.  “Are your memories really that precious to you?” the man mutters as we start to move again. I’m taken aback by the question. “Well, yes. I mean isn’t that pretty normal?” There’s a bit of a pause before he replies, his voice sad and distant. “You’re not going to remember just the good times, you know.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that sad and painful memories are going to resurface, too.”  I guess I hadn’t really thought about that. But still, whatever kind of memories they are, they’re all a part of me. I’m the person I am now because of the sorrow and pain, too. I want to remember. I want to remember who I am! The gunman directs me dispassionately along a series of quiet side streets. “Right here.” I stop at his words.  In front of us is an old, multi-tenant office building. We ride the elevator to the eighth floor, then use the emergency exit to take the stairs up to the rooftop.  A cool breeze blows across my cheek. “Sit down there.” I do as he says, settling myself on the outdoor air conditioning unit.  The man lowers his gun, but keeps it in hand. “We’ll wait here for a bit.” “For how long?” He lets out a rueful chuckle. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” I decide there’s no point in trying to fight with him. For now I have to hope he’s telling the truth, and whatever’s coming will help me get my memories back. If I don’t know my past, how can I know what to do about this Canaan stuff-or anything else?  I stare up at the sky as I wait for whatever this assassin is waiting for. The silence between us is suffocating. Finally, I can’t take it any longer. “Hey, so I think this is yours.”  I hold out the notebook I picked up earlier. The man’s surprise is plain on his face. “Where did you get that?” “I saw the picture inside.” He snatches the book out of my hand.  Then he flips through it, looking sad. I’m afraid that another agonizing silence is about to descend when he speaks at last. Chance Meeting..“This is a picture of me and my childhood friends.” His voice is low and quiet.  “We were inseparable back when we were kids. The boy here, he liked to fiddle with machines. Always doing things like taking apart radios and whatnot and putting them back together. He was a total bookworm, too, so he got picked on a lot. But I was always there to save him from the bullies.” All of a sudden, the guy’s in a sharing mood, I guess. I can feel his aura of murderous rage starting to abate. 
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Jan 10, 2021 22:17
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B. Keep him talking.
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Jan 10, 2021 23:26
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AweStriker posted:B. Keep him talking. Agreed.
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Jan 10, 2021 23:51
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Chance Meeting.. “What was her name?” I ask, curious to know more.  “Kotone. We dated when we were in high school.” “Oh, wow. But I get the impression from that picture that the other boy must have liked Kotone too, right?” The gunman’s eyes widen. “You’re very astute.” “Call it a woman’s intuition,” I say proudly. Then I ask the obvious follow-up. “So what happened to you two?” “I dumped her.”  The man carefully slips the notebook into the pocket inside his jacket. “How come?” I ask. “I felt it was for the best.” He lets out a little chuckle, then stands up and brushes the dust off his pants. He looks strangely lonely. 
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Mar 9, 2021 19:22
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Let's go Kano.
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Mar 10, 2021 02:51
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Anyone want to break the tie between Kano and Minorikawa?
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Mar 10, 2021 16:57
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Sure, Kano.
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Mar 10, 2021 18:20
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Setup.  No music. Arriving back at the Shibuya precinct, Kano hurried to the interrogation room. With the investigation currently on hold, he knew that taking any official action would be tricky. If he was going to break through this stalemate, he was going to need Tateno’s help. The abduction, the ransom, the attaché case relay, Maria’s release, and then, Tanaka’s death. Maybe Tateno would be able to figure out how all these elements were related. But first, Kano needed to check something for himself. Tateno would never have let al-Karawan go free. Kano needed the prisoner to set the record straight.  Al-Karawan sat in the precinct interrogation room, looking brazen and cocksure. One glance at his face and Kano was reminded of what had happened to Sasayama; fresh anger smoldered at the edges of his mind. There were two detective already in the room. “It seems he wasn’t made privy to the details,” one of them told Kano. “Sounds like they were following orders, carrying that attaché case around,” the other added. Kano sat down across from al-Karawan.  “There’s something I’d like to ask you,” he said. “We were just paid to do a job. I don’t know anything more than that.” His Japanese was imperfect, but he understood the language well enough. “Tell me, how did you manage to escape from Detective Tateno?” “Escape? I didn’t.” A faint smile came to al-Karawan’s lips. Unrest. “He let me go free.” “Liar! Detective Tateno would never do that!” Kano slammed the desk with his fist.  “I didn’t have handcuffs on, did I? He took them off for me.” This had to be a lie. It’s not like there weren’t other ways to remove a pair of handcuffs. “After he took off the handcuffs,” al-Karawan continued, “he pointed his gun at me-”  “Cut the crap!” Kano grabbed the prisoner by the collar. But al-Karawan went on, unperturbed. “He kept the gun pointed at me, but he didn’t pull the trigger. So that’s when I ran.” “Why would Detective Tateno want to shoot you?!” “Because I saw him.” “Saw him? Saw him do what?” “Let me tell you something interesting,” al-Karawan said sardonically. “There was that girl who was carrying the ransom, right?” Kano pictured Hitomi, standing anxiously beside the statue of Hachiko. No music.  Unrest. In a fit of rage, Kano drove his fist into al-Karawan’s face. His colleagues rushed to interpose themselves. “Kano, calm down!” Knocked to the floor, al-Karawan gingerly fingered his split lip. “And after I gave you such good info, too,” he grumbled.  “Detective Tateno was assigned to protect Hitomi Osawa!” Kano shouted. “You can’t expect me to believe your rubbish!” He lunged around the table, ready to throw another punch, but his fellow detectives held him back. Al-Karawan looked away indifferently. “It’s your Detective Tateno you should be arresting, not me. That girl’s going to get killed.” “You need to step in line, pal!” Kano bellowed. “Kano!” His colleagues shouted. “You’re the one who needs to step in line! Go and cool off for a bit!” No music. Expelled from the interrogation room, Kano immediately pulled out his cell phone and called Tateno’s number. “Please, pick up.” He clutched his phone tight, pleading under his breath. But Tateno didn’t answer.  Kano sat down in a chair in the hallway in a bit of a daze. He found himself holding the present Sasayama had gotten for his wife. I have to do something. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do. His restlessness gnawed at him like a rabid animal. “Hey, Kano.”  He looked up to see Kuze standing beside him, his expression grave. “I...have an update on Sasayama,” the director began. Kano swallowed the lump in his throat. “It seems the knife went in deep enough to do some organ damage. He’s in critical condition.”  “I see.” Kano bit his lip, hard. His handkerchief, red with Sasayama’s blood, clung to the wrapping paper of Sasayama’s present.  Kano peeled it away carefully so as not to tear the paper beneath. “What’s that?” asked Kuze. “Sasayama had me hold on to this for him. It’s a present for his wife.” “Ah, I see.” “I’m sorry, Director Kuze. For ignoring your orders.” Kano’s eyes remained fixed on the gift as he spoke. “When you get down to it, none of this would have happened if it weren’t for me.” Some kind of punishment was surely headed his way for acting alone as he had. He probably wasn’t getting out of this one with a simple written apology. General Tip – Written apology posted:When public servants are negligent in their duties or violate regulations, they can be punished with a warning (a formal reprimand), reduction in pay, suspension, or dismissal. In the case of a warning, in addition to the remonstration from a direct supervisor, the individual must also submit a formal letter explaining the relevant details and assuring that it won’t happen again.  But Kuze calmly shook his head. “What happened to Sasayama isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself,” he said. “As far as this case goes, I’ve been given quite the runaround, myself.” There was a rare note of vulnerability in Kuze’s voice. “The higher-ups have barely let any information trickle my way, but they’re still ordering me around nonstop. It’s a real pain in the rear end.” Kuze fell silent, ruminating. The quiet lingered between the two men for several moments before he abruptly spoke again.  “Oh, right-I’d like to get your opinion on something. So, Mamoru Tanaka, who we found in the minivan, y’know? Whatcha think? Should we oughta maybe release his name to the media?” Kuze had slipped into his childish register; he was clearly exhausted. 428 Tip – Exhausted posted:After dealing with the kidnappers’ baffling actions and too much meddling from the higher-ups, even a veteran like Kuze is just beat. But that’s not the only reason for his exhaustion. Kuze has a brother, six years his senior, who despite being nominally mature refuses to get a real job and shows no inclination to settle down with a family. He walks around town day after day, dressed like a hippy and treating passersby to songs he’s written. Kuze has been worrying about his shiftless brother for years now; the guy’s become a chronic source of consternation. Kano was thrown by the question. It was a rare thing for the director to seek an opinion from a mere junior detective. “It feels like there’s something not too normal about one of Kenji Osawa’s subordinates dying,” Kuze went on. Kano had had the same thought. This felt too intentional to be a coincidence. “So here’s the question: should I get the media involved and try to rush for a resolution, or should I be more cautious? What would you do?”  “About releasing the name?” Kano asked. That wasn’t such a simple thing to answer; there were so many factors to consider. A tired smile came to Kuze’s face. “Don’t think about it so hard. This is just so I have a point of reference. Tell me what your gut says.” 
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Mar 10, 2021 22:32
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A: It's fine. Which is not actually my gut instinct, my gut instinct is to hold back, but this way we can potentially influence our other candidates.
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Mar 10, 2021 23:12
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No music. “I think releasing the name should be all right.” There was still a lot they didn’t know about Tanaka. The fact that the final stop for the ransom relay was Tanaka’s condo implied some sort of connection between him and the kidnappers. But they still had no idea what his role in the abduction might have been. They also didn’t have any motive for why Tanaka would be helping the kidnappers in the first place. By sharing some of what they did know with the public, they might be able to garner some new leads. “You’d release the name? All right, then.” Without another word, Kuze headed back toward the conference room. Powerless. On the TV, the governor’s press conference was still going on. “I’ve just requested that each of the railroad companies, starting with JR, stop running trains through Shibuya Station until further notice. As far as the roads go, Route 246 has already been closed to traffic.” The executive looked pale as he spoke to the crowd. “Is there any possibility of a bioterrorist attack?!” “What about the people who are still in Shibuya?!” The reporters unleashed a barrage of questions. The governor’s face scrunched up. “As I’ve already made clear, this is not a complete blockade. There’s nothing to stop anyone from leaving Shibuya on foot.” “Isn’t what you’re describing de facto martial law?” spat one reporter. “Of course not!” the governor snapped. 428 Tip – Complete blockade posted:Because modern Japan does not have a system for enacting “You should be well aware that martial law is illegal! I couldn’t declare it even if I wanted to!” “If you wanted to? So this is a bioterrorist issue, then!” “I never said anything of the sort!” The press conference was devolving into chaos. Kano was unsurprised, given the circumstances. Still, everyone was doing their best insofar as they knew how. So why not me? Kano thought.  It doesn’t matter what I do. I just want to be doing something. Just letting time tick by without trying to take action was more than he could bear. 
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Mar 12, 2021 20:13
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Any votes? 
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Mar 15, 2021 19:45
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Oh wow the thread slipped right by first page, didn't see the update! C: Let's set that death flag of giving her the present too while we are at it.
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Mar 15, 2021 19:59
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An opportunity to get hassled by Rumi's dad again? Seems like as good of a time as any to call her. A: We've got to try to preserve our future,
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Mar 15, 2021 21:20
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C, we've gotta do right by our pal and let his wife know what's up. And maybe deliver the present.
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Mar 16, 2021 09:35
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I'll pop in to throw another vote at C.
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Mar 16, 2021 12:43
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Powerless. Kano thought about Sasayama’s wife, and decided to get in touch with her.  He called Sasayama’s home phone, but nobody picked up. Perhaps she’d gone to the hospital? With that in mind, Kano called up Shibuya Central Hospital and asked them to transfer him to Mrs. Sasayama. After a little while, a woman’s voice came through the receiver. “Yes, this is Mrs. Sasayama.” Her voice was thin and reedy.  “My name’s Shinya Kano; I work with your husband on the force. What happened...” He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find the words. “I wish that I’d been there, when he’d gone to make that arrest,” he blurted out at last. “I should have tried to get there and back him up sooner. If I hadn’t been too late....” He trailed off, hoping he hadn’t said too much. Sasayama’s wife answered in her gentle, quavering voice. “Thank you so much for your concern. I’m glad that my husband is lucky enough to have a colleague like you.” “No. I couldn’t-” “I married a detective, Mr. Kano. I’ve prepared myself for the possibility that something like this might happen.” But she certainly didn’t sound like she was prepared. Kano felt a biting pain in his chest.  “Um, your husband gave me something to hold on to for you. I’d like to give it to you, if I can.” “Oh? Well, certainly-but I’d like to stay here by his side today, if possible.” “Of course. I’ll head on over to the hospital myself, then. I hope you don’t mind if I pay a visit?” “Oh, of course not. Sorry to trouble you like this. Thank you so much.” Kano hung up, then hurried out of the precinct. No music. As he was making his way toward the hospital, Kano spotted a girl sitting on the pedestrian overpass. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. Concerned, he stopped beside her. “Are you waiting for someone?” he asked. The girl simply hit her lip, and said nothing. “Are you lost? Do you need a policeman?” Again, the girl gave no answer. “Where did you come from?” Kano tried. Still nothing. He had just decided to go and call for a female officer when the girl hesitatingly spoke at last. General Tip – Policeman posted:The relatively low crime rate in Japan, combined with rather high police personnel numbers in Tokyo, mean that officers, particularly beat cops, often have plenty of bandwidth to deal with more minor issues.  “Heaven Publishing.” After a little coaxing, she told him where that was. It turned out it was on the way to Shibuya Central Hospital, not too far from where they were now. “Why don’t I take you there, then?” Kano said. “I’m already headed in that direction anyway.” The girl seemed a bit reluctant at first, but eventually she agreed to go with Kano.  Kano parted ways with the girl outside the building where Heaven Publishing was located. He noticed that she hesitated to enter at first, but eventually vanished inside. Kano’s phone rang as he was about to continue on his way. When he peered at the incoming call display his heart nearly stopped. Maneuvers.There was Tateno’s name. Kano quickly pressed the button to accept the call. “Detective Tateno? Detective Tateno, is that you?” There was a whole mountain of things Kano wanted to ask. Just what had he been doing this whole time? Why had he let al-Karawan go free? And what had happened to Hitomi? But while he was trying to decide what question to pose first, Tateno spoke. “I’ve secured Maria Osawa.” “What?!” The word came out as a startled gasp. “Detective Tateno, you have to bring her here ASAP! Right now, she’s-” Tateno cut him off. “You need to bring Hitomi Osawa to my location at once.”  “Hitomi...Osawa?” “Yes. I heard over the wireless that the man from the U.S. Embassy had her in custody.” Kano hadn’t been listening to the most recent wireless traffic; apparently Stanley had managed to find Hitomi. But what was Tateno getting at, here? “Wait-hold on. What for? I mean, why do you need me to bring Hitomi Osawa to you?” There was no reply. “Detective Tateno, answer me. Please.” Tateno replied as if he hadn’t heard Kano’s questions. “There’s an office building in Nanpeidai called South Hill. I’ll be waiting for you on the rooftop. If you don’t bring her...I’ll kill Maria.” With that grisly warning, he hung up. Kano’s hand went limp; his phone slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor. No music.Kano went to South Hill in Nanpeidai alone. He hadn’t brought Hitomi as Tateno had demanded-nor had he reported the situation to Kuze. First, he wanted to meet with Tateno and find out what was going on. He took the elevator to the eighth floor; after that, he had to take the stairs to the rooftop. 428 Tip – South Hill posted:The building takes its name from a rough translation of ‘Nanpeidai,’ the name of the area where it is located. The official name is “South Hill Building,” but since this is awkward to say, it is frequently shortened.  As he made his way up the steps, he tried to imagine what Tateno might want with Hitomi. He hadn’t noticed anything suspicious about the senior detective in the lead-up to the stakeout at the scramble. Tateno had seemed like the same man Kano had always revered. So why was he doing this? Kano couldn’t think of a reason. Reaching the top of the staircase, he at last stepped out onto the open roof.  The time for half-baked conjecture was past. Kano would lay his doubts at Tateno’s feet. Then, soon enough, everything would become clear. Inwardly, Kano did his best to convince himself of that. A warm breeze blew against his cheek. He took a look around, but saw no sign of Tateno. “Detective Tateno, where are you?” Getting no response, he began to walk around the rooftop, calling out several more times. “It’s Kano! I’ve come as you asked!” “Where’s Hitomi Osawa?” Kano whirled around when he heard the voice behind him. Conflict. Tateno stepped into view from behind a water tank. He led with him a young woman, bound and blindfolded. “Why didn’t you bring her?” he growled. Kano stared in shock. “Detective Tateno, why are you doing this? Is that really Maria?” Tateno responded by removing the young woman’s blindfold.  There was no doubt about it. She looked very much like Hitomi Osawa. A surge of frustration rushed through Kano.  “Detective Tateno, what is the meaning of this?” Kano fought to remain calm; he felt like he was on the verge of falling to pieces. “Bring me Hitomi Osawa, and I’ll let this girl go.” “Why?! What do you need Hitomi for?” But Tateno’s only answer was an icy stare. “This isn’t like you! It’s so...weird! The Detective Tateno who I know-” “Who you know?” Tateno cut him off. “What do you know about me?” “I know what sort of detective you are, sir. Because I’ve modeled myself after you for my whole career.” The older man’s expression remained stony. “Don’t you remember?” Kano went on. “That time when you risked your life to talk down that man who’d barricaded himself inside that office? Ever since then, you’ve been my-” Tateno interrupted him with a sudden burst of laughter. “You really are gullible, you know that? You can only see things the way you want to see them.” “What do you mean by that?”  “The truth is, I didn’t even care if I died doing what I did. That’s why I doused myself in gasoline.” Tateno’s voice had gone low and quiet. “That was no display of heroics. It was more attempted suicide than anything else. I wasn’t thinking about the other people still inside the building. It’s just a coincidence things turned out the way they did.” “So then, if you’d made a single misstep...” “Then everyone in that building might well have burned to death.”  “You’re lying! That can’t be true!” Kano shook his head insistently. “I don’t have time for this conversation.” Tateno pressed the barrel of his gun to Maria’s head.  “If you don’t bring Hitomi Osawa to me, believe me, I’ll blow her brains out.” “Please, stop this!” Kano shouted. But there was no hesitation in Tateno’s eyes. He looked like he really would shoot Maria if Kano didn’t do as he asked. “Hurry up! Bring Hitomi to me!” “Can’t you at least tell me what’s going on?!” “Go now or so help me I’ll shoot!”  Kano drew his own gun from his jacket. “I know you, Detective Tateno. I know there’s some meaning behind all this.” Kano’s words came out as an imploring croak. “You think you can shoot me?” Tateno spat. “Letting al-Karawan go free...taking Maria hostage...this has to mean something.” Sweat made Kano’s hands slick where he clutched his gun.  “I asked if you think you can shoot me.” “I’ve always looked up to you. You were the sort of detective I wanted to become.” Kano’s view of Tateno began to blur as tears welled in his eyes. “Can you shoot me, Kano?!” No music. “I can!” Even as he cried, Kano stood resolutely, doing his best to stare down the older man. He set his finger squarely on the trigger and pointed his gun at Tateno’s forehead.  Suddenly, the piercing stare vanished from the other detective’s eyes. “I’ve got to give you full marks for that, Kano.” Tateno smiled thinly. “I’ll tell you, then. I’ll tell you why I’m doing this.”  It all happened seventeen years ago. A meth addict had assaulted someone in Shibuya. Tateno was questioning people around Dogenzaka in search of the perp. He happened to pass by Endo Electronics. “Oh hey, Tateno!” Implications. It was Kotone Endo, clad in pristine white. Clutched to her breast was her daughter Suzune, only a few months old. “It’s been a long time,” Kotone said. She flashed a tiny smile. “Yes, it has,” Tateno replied with a clumsy smile of his own. “Are you on the job?” “Yes, I am.” Kotone recoiled slightly at the dour look on Tateno’s face. “Is something the matter?” “There’s an armed criminal hiding out somewhere in the area.” “What?!” “I wouldn’t leave the shop for a while, if you can avoid it.” “But, I have to go to the bank to deposit some money...” “Surely you can have Daisuke go do it?” “He’s away on a repair job and hasn’t come back yet.” Tateno let out a one-note sigh. “I see Daisuke still does things his own way. All right. Let me escort you to the bank.”  “You mean it? I’d feel a lot safer having you with me.” Kotone flashed him a smile so wide that Tateno thought he might lose himself in it.  Tateno, Kotone, and Daisuke were childhood friends, and had gone to school together up through high school. Tateno and Daisuke were always clowning around together. And Kotone was always there alongside them, laughing.  It had been quite some time since he’d gotten to walk along Dogenzaka with Kotone. “How have you been lately?” “Well, with a newborn to look after, it’s been pretty hectic. But there’s never a dull moment. Things have been good.” “I’m glad to hear it.” Kotone was always as bright as a sunflower. Sometimes, Tateno managed to convince himself that just the sight of her was enough.  Outside the bank, Kotone held Suzune out to him. Tateno received the baby with an anxious frown. “What’s with the face?” “I’m not good with babies. I haven’t held one very often.” “Oh, you’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Just hold on to her for a minute while I take care of things inside.” “Uh, all right.” He held the baby gingerly, like it was a bomb that might explode at any moment. Kotone chuckled softly.  Suzune stirred and squirmed in Tateno’s arms. She kind of has Kotone’s eyes, he thought. It was strange, the sensation of holding a child. She was so soft and light, and yet such a real and responsive presence. The faint warmth of her body warmed Tateno inwardly in turn.  When Kotone returned after making her deposit, they strolled to a nearby park, Suzune back in her mother’s arms. “Do you have any plans for marriage, Tateno?” “I haven’t thought about it. Work has me plenty busy.” “Oh, that’s just an excuse,” Kotone said. “If there really were some woman you wanted to marry, you wouldn’t let work stop you.” “Then I suppose it’s because there hasn’t been anyone I’ve felt that way about.” “Really? Nobody, this whole time?” “Yeah. Really.”  “I see.” “But still, seeing the two of you like this...it makes me realize how nice having a family could be.” Tateno peered deeply into Suzune’s face. “Well, if it ain’t Tateno.” He looked up as a cheery voice cut into the conversation.  It was Daisuke. “What are you doing here?” he asked his wife. “I could ask you the same question.” “C’mon, gimme a break. I’ve come to make the deposit for the client.” “In that case, no need to worry-I just took care of it myself. I thought you’d forgotten about it.” “Huh, really?” Kotone smiled as Daisuke reached down and carefully lifted Suzune in his arms. Beaming happily at his daughter, he nuzzled up against her tiny cheek.  “Daisuke. Long time no see.” “Yeah. Glad you’re doing well for yourself, Tateno.” They walked side by side; Daisuke proudly showed off Suzune’s drowsing face. “What do you think? Adorable, isn’t she?” “Yeah. Luckily she doesn’t have your looks.” “Hey now. Badmouthing me the same as ever, huh?’ Some things hadn’t changed since high school. “Why not drop by our place for a bit?” Daisuke offered. “Ah, sorry. I’m in the middle of a job, actually.” Tateno turned to glance at Kotone. No music. An instant later, Daisuke screamed. “Kotone!” A man had come up behind his wife and now held a kitchen knife to her throat. Kotone stood stiffly, frozen in terror. “Let her go!” Tateno took a step toward the man.  The slightly upturned eyes, the close-cropped hair, the thin moustache-all the details matched the description. This had to be the man Tateno was after.  The reports had said the suspect was a tweaker. Right now, his mind was probably a complete mess from meth withdrawal. Left unchecked, there was no telling what he might do.  Tateno shoved Daisuke behind him and drew his gun from his jacket. “Wait, don’t shoot! You’ll hit Kotone!” But Tateno ignored Daisuke’s shouts and trained his gun on the perp’s shoulder. He was confident in his marksmanship. He’d never miss at this range.  “Tateno, please, back down!” Daisuke pleaded, Suzune still clutched in his arms. “I beg you!” “I can’t,” Tateno hissed under his breath. “This isn’t someone we can reason with!” The assailant began waving his knife about. He could stab it into Kotone at any moment.  Tateno had to take the shot now. He aimed for the shoulder of the arm the man held his knife in. “Tateno, stop!” Daisuke shouted. “Don’t do this!”  For a brief moment, Tateno’s eyes met Kotone’s. He thought he saw her give a tiny nod. “Don’t shoooot!”             Pride. It was all over in an instant. By the time Tateno had the perp subdued, Kotone’s white shirt was soaked through with red. With Kotone’s death, so too died Tateno’s heart.   Whatever feelings had lived inside him had been reduced to cinders, leaving only a never-ending need to atone. Countless times he’d thought of ending his life in order to make things up to Daisuke and his children. The only reason he didn’t go through with it was that he knew death would be the easy way out. And so, he’d stayed on as a detective.  He would carry the weight of his sins with him for as long as he lived. This was the sentence Tateno gave himself.  Fifteen years had passed since Kotone’s death. For the first time, Tateno had gone to visit her grave. He was standing by the grave marker with his hands clasped when someone called out to him from behind. “Um, excuse me?”  A slender young girl stood there, flowers in hand. Tateno instantly recognized her: Suzune. She looked just like Kotone had back in her high school days. “Did you know my mother?” she asked. “Ah, yes...we were classmates, a long time ago.” “Oh, really? Thank you so much for coming.” Suzune gave a slight bow, then gazed up at Tateno with her big, bright eyes.  “You...You look just like her.” Tateno struggled to hold back the tears. He felt as if Kotone stood before him, returned to life. “My father tells me the same thing all the time.”  “I’m sure once you’re all grown up, you’ll be just as beautiful as she was.” A forlorn smile came to Suzune’s face. “Once I’m grown up? Well-I don’t think that’s going to happen. I guess I really do have a lot in common with my mother, including the part where I’m going to die young.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Tateno exclaimed. “Why would you say such a horrible thing?” Suzune took a step backward, looking shocked to be rebuked by a stranger. “My apologies,” he said hurriedly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”  “No, it’s all right,” Suzune murmured, clutching the flowers close. “Honestly, it’s not something I like to talk about, myself. But I’m sick, so there’s not really anything I can do to change it.” “Sick?” “I have a heart condition. A transplant is the only thing that can help me, but my blood type is a little bit weird, and it doesn’t look like they’ll be able to find me a compatible donor” Then, bowing her head, Suzune stepped in front of the gravestone and clasped her hands in silence. General Tip – Heart condition posted:A generic expression for illnesses pertaining to the heart; also referred to as heart disease. Includes things like heart failure, valvular heart disease, and so forth. General Tip – Compatible posted:The immune system exists to get rid of foreign substances in the body. Often a patient’s immune system will attack a transplanted organ, which can result in the organ failing or functioning poorly. To mitigate the risk of rejection, it is preferable for the donor and the recipient to have matching body tissue. In the case of a heart transplant, characteristics such as blood type and pre-sensitized antibodies (human leukocyte antigens) must be screened ahead of time.  Tateno felt a wrenching pain inside him, as if Kotone were being taken from him all over again. If there really was a God, why would he do such dreadful things? Is there nothing I can do? He nearly lamented aloud.  I’ll do anything. Suzune, I’II do whatever I have to in order to save you. Tateno clenched his fists as he stared at the grave. Tell me, Kotone. What can I possibly do for your daughter? Please, tell me. Please...  And so the months rolled on... Everything changed just after 10 o’clock that morning. Tateno was on the stakeout when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the call display and saw Daisuke Endo’s name. He hadn’t heard from Daisuke in years now. Fearing that something had happened to Suzune, Tateno answered the call despite his current tense circumstances. At once, he heard Daisuke wailing.  “Suzune had a seizure! She might not come back from this one!” Tateno’s terrible suspicions had been right on the mark; he felt himself growing weak. “Please!” Daisuke exclaimed. “You need to shoot that girl you’re with-that Hitomi Osawa! You need to shoot her in the head! If we have her heart, we can save Suzune!” At first, Tateno couldn’t make sense of what Daisuke was saying.  “Hurry up and shoot! Shoot her, please! Hitomi Osawa has the Bombay blood type!” “Wait, hold on,” Tateno said, keeping his voice low. “You want me to kill Hitomi Osawa? Why?” He quickly scanned the area. “Daisuke, are you nearby? Wait, where are you?” “Don’t worry about that. If you can just render her brain-dead, we’ll be able to transplant her heart into Suzune!” General Tip – Brain-dead posted:The term “brain dead” refers to a state where the entire brain, including the brain stem, is beyond any recovery. In Japan, brain death is defined by Article 6 of the Act on Organ Transplantation, which states that brain death can only be declared with the goal of authorizing a transplant, and is subject to the judgment of at least two doctors inspecting the patient according to a pre-set process at least six hours apart. Shooting someone in the head didn’t necessarily guarantee they’d wind up brain-dead. And even assuming it did, if Tateno shot the Osawa girl here in the middle of the scramble, it would cause a giant incident. By the time the autopsy was completed, the window for a heart transplant would surely have passed. “Tateno! Shoot her, please!” “Daisuke, I can’t. You know I can’t do that.” “Hurry!” It was like his old friend wasn’t even listening to him. “Look-even if she did wind up brain-dead, they wouldn’t be able to perform a transplant.” But Daisuke kept on shouting. “It’s fine! It’ll be fine! I’ll make the transplant work somehow!” “You’ll make it work?” Even knowing how ridiculous that was, part of Tateno wanted to know what he had in mind-if anything.  “I finally found it! I found something we can do for Suzune! Please, help me help her!” Tateno understood Daisuke’s feelings painfully well. To be helpless to stop the suffering of someone you loved—nothing in the world hurt as much as that. “I want to save Suzune. Tateno, this is the one thing I will ever ask of you.” Tateno could hear choked weeping from the other end of the line. And at that sound, something inside him shifted.  Yes. Yes, Daisuke was right. The likelihood of a transplant happening wasn’t the issue. What mattered was that right now, he could take action - he could do something for Suzune. He mustered up his resolve, feeling the doubt lift from his heart. For Suzune. For the daughter of the woman he’d loved.  Tateno checked the gun tucked inside his jacket, then slowly began making his way through the crowd toward Hitomi. No music.“Now you know why we’re here.” Tateno gestured subtly with his gun, its barrel still pressed against Maria’s temple.  Kano’s own gun wavered in his hands; he was crying inside. There was nothing else he wanted to hear from Tateno now. And now, he was sure of one thing. Words were never going to stop this man. “Kano,” Tateno said, “at my age, I’ve seen all sorts of young detectives come and go.” He fixed his lonesome gaze on Kano. “And you’re about the worst of the lot. Whenever it’s time to take action, you immediately do something reckless. Do you know how many formal apologies I’ve had to write because of you?”  Tateno let out a heavy sigh. “But you know, Kano...because of the way you’ve looked up to me, you’ve saved me. And that’s the truth.” He sounded like a man speaking his last words. “Now come on. See if you can stop me.” He pressed the gun harder against Maria’s temple.  Kano took aim at his former hero’s head. “Detective Tateno...” His finger wavered on the trigger. Shoot him. You have to shoot him. If you don’t shoot him, Maria is going to die. He tried desperately to convince himself.  “I am going to stop you.” Tateno looked him coldly in the eye. “Do it, then! Shoot me!” Kano stared right back. He tightened his finger on the trigger. “Rrrraaaaagh!” 
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Mar 16, 2021 21:31
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Maria, Minorikawa and Osawa are available.
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Mar 16, 2021 21:32
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Well, that got heavy. Maybe Minorikawa for a change of pace.
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Mar 16, 2021 22:29
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Let's go with Maria.
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Mar 16, 2021 22:33
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I always want to know what Maria is up to, especially with all this going on.
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Mar 17, 2021 16:33
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Conflict.   No music. I hear a faint voice, and realize that the man is listening to a wireless radio. “I’ve managed to secure Hitomi Osawa at Shibuya Central Hospital,” the voice says. A gleam comes to the gunman’s eyes. He pulls his cell phone from his jacket and hurriedly makes a call. “I’ve secured Maria Osawa,” he says to whoever’s on the other end.  Huh? Maria...Osawa? Is my name Maria Osawa? “You need to bring Hitomi Osawa to my location at once.” Hitomi...Hitomi Osawa. If I’m Maria Osawa, what sort of relationship do I have to Hitomi? “If you don’t bring her...I’ll kill Maria.” Then my captor hangs up.  “Were you...were you serious just now?” My voice wavers uncontrollably. “What do you mean, you’ll kill me?” “Don’t look at me like that.”  He steps in closer to me, his expression dangerous. That killer’s edge that he’d lost during our little talk is back in full force. “Just bear with me a little longer.” He blindfolds my eyes with some sort of towel. I can’t see through it at all. Just then, I hear Canaan’s voice inside my head. My memories are like shards of broken glass, tumbling through my mind all out of sequence.  “How are you able to do that when the string is so tangled up?” “Oh, once you know the trick to it, you can do it with your eyes closed.” I’m showing Canaan how to do a cat’s cradle. She reaches out for the string.  “Huh?” She doesn’t get hold of it quite right. “What gives?” Despite her efforts, the string gets all jumbled up. “No, not like that,” I say. “Hook your index fingers through the front part of the string-” “No, I get that.” Canaan’s getting irritated.  But after giving it a few more tries, she finally manages to pull it off. “There we go,” she says. “Look at that.” Seeing her innocent little smile bolsters my own spirits. “That’s neat! Thanks for teaching me.” “Oh, it’s nothing special.” “Here. As a thanks, let me teach you some skills to help protect yourself...” Abruptly, my memory jumps forward a bit.  Canaan has been training me in some form of self-defense. “Don’t overthink it,” she says. “People will either try to punch you, kick you, or grab you. If you can stay ready for those three things, you’ll be able to take it from there.” General Tip – Self-defense posted:Techniques for protecting oneself when attacked. Rather than defeating the opponent, self-defense training generally prioritizes simply getting oneself away from danger. Some people consider behavioral tenets such as “run away when you’re attacked” or “don’t go near dangerous places” to be forms of self-defense as well. She demonstrates some defensive movements as I watch. I follow suit, doing my best to mimic her. “Okay. Let’s do this.”  Canaan throws a punch at me; I dodge, grab her by the wrist, and give her arm a hard twist. Incredibly, she goes whirling through the air.  She lands nimbly on her feet, a little grin coming to her face. “Nicely done,” she says. I stare down at my own hand. “Did I...really just do that?” “Once you repeat the movements enough, your body will treat them like second nature.” I do as she says, trying to repeat the movements over and over. At first it feels like a silly gimmick, but eventually I can feel the motions growing smoother. “There you go. People like those thugs we met before won’t get the drop on you again.” Thugs? Now my memories zip further back into the past.  I was wandering the streets, trying to get back to my hotel, but I’d gotten lost. By the time I realized I’d wandered into some dodgy backstreets, I was already surrounded by people giving me threatening looks. They must have been thugs looking for tourists to rob. If they had caught me, I’m not sure I would have made it out alive. But they hadn’t-Canaan had seen to that.  “Thank you so much for what you did for me.” “I didn’t want there to be a scene here,” Canaan says bluntly as she surveys the aftermath of the thugs’ attack. “That’s all.” I’d happened to be right underneath her apartment window when I was nearly abducted.  Bit by bit, my memories of Canaan are starting to resurface. Just a little more... Just a little more and I’ll have myself back-I’m sure of it. “Detective Tateno, where are you?” A man’s voice suddenly snaps me back into the moment. “It’s Kano! I’ve come as you asked!” The gunman grabs me by the arm and yanks me to my feet. “Where’s Hitomi Osawa?” he snarls. “Why didn’t you bring her?” “Detective Tateno, why are you doing this? Is that really Maria?” My captor removes my blindfold.  The first thing I see is a huge blimp drifting slowly by overhead. Huh. I’m sure I’ve seen it before. And pretty recently, at that. There’s a flash of revelation inside my head. Like a dam bursting, my memories come flooding back to me.          Last night... I was at a party-a sort of mixer with the exchange students.  Someone was plotting to use this party as an opportunity to abduct my sister - Hitomi. And so I told Hitomi that the party started one hour later than it really did.  I had a plan: to let myself get abducted in Hitomi’s place. Of course, the idea wasn’t just to let myself get kidnapped.  The necklace I wore was outfitted with a tiny GPS. Wherever I happened to be taken, Canaan would be able to track my location. What we hadn’t counted on, though, was my necklace getting torn off when I was attacked.  I’d managed to grab hold of it, but I hit my head when I was being shoved into the car, and it slipped from my grasp. I’m not sure how far we drove after that. In my fuzzy memories, I recall gazing blearily out the car window.  That was when I saw the blimp-right after we parked.  “Yes, it went fine.”  There was a man talking to someone on a cell phone. “All right. I’ll shut her up inside the storeroom. I’ll be waiting in the room upstairs.”  The man dragged me out of the car and shoved me into some dark storeroom. Then, I guess for good measure, he hit me on the head again. That’s right. There’s more of it coming back to me now.  “You’ve spent your life living in a country at peace-in Japan. You couldn’t possibly understand me.” Canaan again. So it’s not like she and I became fast friends right away or anything. The two of us were too different in a lot of ways. “Where do you draw the line?” “What would you protect with your life?” “What does ‘justice’ mean to you?” A forlorn look came to her face whenever Canaan asked me a new question. And I never had a good answer for any of them. My flimsy grasp on my own personal identity made it hard for us to get along-yet I kept visiting Canaan’s place for the duration of my trip. I recall doing the cat’s cradle there at the table one time when we didn’t have anything in particular to talk about. Implications. Her eyes had gone wide when she saw me deftly manipulating the string with my fingers. “Who taught you how to do that?” she asked. “My mother. My real mother, that is.” Canaan furrowed her brow. “What do you mean, real?” “As opposed to my stepmother, I mean. My birth mother died after getting really sick. I was only five years old, so I don’t remember her that well.” “I see,” Canaan said. Her expression remained unchanged. “What about your parents, Canaan?” “I don’t have any. They died during the war.” The bluntness of her response made my hands stop, the string still stretched between them. Sensing that we were treading on some serious ground, I hurried to change the subject. “Do you, ah-do you have any friends?” “No. Well, I used to have one.” Her use of the past tense made me fear the worst-and I was right. “He was killed, too. By an arms dealer named Alphard.” Her tone was dry, matter-of-fact. “Taking revenge for his death is my sole purpose in life.” Despite the gravity of her words, her face was an unreadable mask. She seemed almost incapable of human emotion. “So, um, what sort of person is this Alphard?” “A destructionist who masquerades as a terrorist.” Destructionist...? That sure wasn’t a term that came up a lot back in Japan. “Alphard doesn’t believe in god, and holds no political ideology. The chaos and destruction is just to earn money in order to carry out more terrorist acts.” “So you’re saying this Alphard commits terrorism because it’s fun?” Canaan nodded. “That’s why every now and then, Alphard changes loyalties. Just when you think you’ve found ties to some Middle Eastern terrorist organization, it turns out the job was for the American CIA.” “What the heck? So Alphard stands for nothing, then?” Canaan smiled dismissively at my little childish outburst. I couldn’t help but feel a bit patronized.  I twiddled my fingers, turning my cat’s cradle into a bridge. Canaan’s eyes fixed right back on the string. A tiny surge of pride replaced my annoyance. She went quiet, watching closely as I worked my fingers. The tension in the room faded as the silence between us lengthened. “My stepmother’s the sort of person who couldn’t do this sort of thing,” I said at last. For some reason, I had a sudden urge to talk about my personal life. “I guess she cares about herself more than looking after her children. She’s not a bad person, though. She gives me weird bits of advice, like telling me to find someone to date, or that a woman’s life is defined by a man. But it’s not like I hate her or anything.” “Would you mind teaching me?” Canaan asked softly. “What? How to find a guy to date?” “No.” She shook her head. Then she pointed to the cat’s cradle strung between my fingers. “Oh, you mean this.”  So I took her by the hand and started to teach her the cat’s cradle. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?” I said after a while. “What’s that?” “That friend you mentioned earlier...what was he like?”  Canaan’s fingers went still. “It’s better if you don’t ask. If I tell you, you won’t want to come here anymore.” “That’s not true,” I insisted. “Even though I’m a terrorist?” she replied curtly. I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat, unable to find words. “We fight for righteousness, but you people call us terrorists. Am I wrong?” She cast a quick look at my face. General Tip – Terrorist posted:One who uses fear and violence to attain political objectives. The term has its origins in the “Reign of Terror” in 18th Century France, known in French as “la Terreur.” General Tip – Righteousness posted:In the religious sense, the state of being virtuous, free of sin, and observant of the proper rules of moral conduct. Not the same as being “in the right,” though many people equate the two. “But, I mean...you protected me.” My voice wavered as I replied. “All I did was take down some thugs. I just didn’t want them around.” What could I say to that? I just stammered. “Nah, I’m just messing with you.” “Huh?” Canaan flashed me another slight, condescending grin. “I was just joking. Don’t worry about it.” But I didn’t get the sense that everything she’d said was a joke. Even if calling herself a terrorist was an exaggeration, the world Canaan lived in was unquestionably a dangerous one. I could tell that from the cold look in her eyes-a look you’d never expect from an ordinary teenage girl. Just what sort of hardships had she endured to acquire that deadly stare? Having lived all my life in peaceful Japan, I could scarcely imagine.  Canaan tried and failed several times to get the cat’s cradle right, but she didn’t give up. She worked fastidiously by herself, fingers continuing to shift awkwardly about. “Okay, here we go.” She hooked the string around her fingers and spread her palms. But the string-shape just collapsed into a jumbled mess. “Confound it...okay, one more time.” “You can make this into a game with two people, you know.” I plucked the string from Canaan’s hands.  “You pass the string back and forth. Why don’t we try that? It’s more fun than doing it by yourself.” I wrapped the string around my fingertips. “What do you say? Want to give it a go?” Canaan looked dubious. The intricately intertwined strings were like the world, in a way. What had started as a single thread was now something that couldn’t be undone just by pulling on it. I held my hands out, twirling the string around my fingers. Canaan took the pattern from me, and spread her palms apart.  She made a perfect bridge between her hands. The shy grin that came to her face made her finally look like a normal girl. I followed suit, with a childish little laugh of my own. Tama. And, as if in a blaze of sunshine, the fog that’s been hanging over my mind finishes receding. I remember everything. My name is Maria Osawa. My sister is Hitomi Osawa. And Canaan... She’s a dear friend who I met in a far-off land. She helped me once-and now it’s my turn to help her. I close my eyes as I reflect upon these precious memories, all the dearer for having been lost. Now when I try to picture Canaan, I can do so clearly. It’s just as I’d thought before: my memories are what make me who I am, and I would never choose to forget them. I feel almost as if time had stopped for me while my history was gone, and now it’s started moving again. I’m finally back to being me.  And - I have to go. I have to go back there, one more time. 
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Mar 17, 2021 20:36
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Yeah!! Finally! Now kick his rear end, Maria!
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Mar 17, 2021 21:44
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Setup.
Cigarette Smoke. No music. The taxi stopped outside of Heaven Publishing. Minorikawa left a thousand-yen bill on the seat and exited the cab. He was stumbling his way toward the building when someone called out to him. “Mr. Minorikawa!” “Hm?”  For a moment, Minorikawa didn’t recognize the man now idling his sedan at the curb; but when he took a closer look he realized it was Kenji Osawa. “Oh, Mr. Osawa. Sorry, but I haven’t been able to look into that thing you asked about yet.” “I see. That’s quite all right.”  Osawa looked pale and haggard. Minorikawa’s reporter sense started tingling. Contemplation.This guy is the key to something. He recalled what he’d heard the detective and his buddy talking about back at the scene of the explosion. “Roughly eight hours ago, they infected Maria Osawa with the Ua virus.” “If we don’t administer Kenji Osawa’s antiviralbefore she develops symptoms...” “You. You’re caught up in something big, aren’t you?” “How-how do you know that?” “Because,” the reporter said simply, “I’m Minoru Minorikawa.” Osawa rolled his eyes. “Well, that’ll make this simpler, I guess. Get in. I’ll tell you everything.”  Minorikawa hesitated. This might be his big chance to land a beyond-incredible scoop. Yet it felt like it was too late to matter. Still, landing a major story, selling out an issue of Four-Star General Gossip, and putting Heaven Publishing on the road to solvency-all that was the least he could do in Toyama’s memory. You don’t drop a story until you have what you need. Maybe it was too late to save Toyama. But Minorikawa got in the car.  Osawa’s tale was beyond anything Minorikawa had imagined. “So-they send you threatening emails, devise a plan to kidnap your daughter in order to get the antiviral, and now that that’s failed, they’re turning to bioterrorism...” Finally Minorikawa was able to flesh out the story behind the conversation he’d overheard earlier. And as he did, he could feel a growing sense of exhilaration. “So basically, they’re now effectively holding all the people in Shibuya hostage and demanding the antiviral, is that it?” Before Osawa could answer a new idea occurred to Minorikawa. “Wait, hold on. Why didn’t they just start by holding the whole city hostage? Why did they need to go through all the trouble of kidnapping your daughter?” “I don’t know,” Osawa said, shaking his head. “Perhaps they wanted the ransom money?” “For a mere 50 million yen? I can’t imagine international terrorists bothering for that much.” “You can’t know how terrorists think,” Osawa spat.  “Let’s just assume, though. Could there be some other reason they abducted your daughter?” Osawa didn’t reply. He was probably too preoccupied with finding a way to save his infected daughter to think about anything else. Still, something about the course of events didn’t quite add up to Minorikawa.  But whatever the case, if the criminals were after this antiviral, then sticking with Osawa ought to bring him closer to the truth. Minorikawa was still mulling that over when they arrived at the laboratory. No music. The two men hopped out of the car-and were immediately rushed by a pair of security guards, who subdued them in a matter of moments. “Hey!” Minorikawa protested. “What the hell is this?!” “Unhand me!” Osawa yelled. “I’m Kenji Osawa! This is my lab!” But evidently, that didn’t matter to the guards.  Another man emerged from the building. He and Osawa exchanged a few brief words. Judging from the tone of the conversation, this was someone who outranked Osawa at the company. “Take him away.” As the newcomer looked on, the guards dragged Osawa into the building.  “Hey!” Minorikawa shouted at the man as he began to walk away. “Don’t you know what’s going to happen to Shibuya? Don’t you care?! If you just stand by and let the people of this city die, Okoshi Pharmaceutical is going to be held responsible!” The man stopped in his tracks.  “And if that happens, you’ll be ruined personally, too!” Minorikawa added. “You know I’m right!” “That will be up for the police to decide.” “You’re going to regret this! Don’t be a fool!” Minorikawa’s resolve was unwavering. His pen would mete out justice. He might have come close to forgetting what he’d once stood for-but now the old fire was back. “I see. It seems this isn’t something to leave unchecked.” The man gestured with his jaw. Violation.“Take him as well.” More security guards surrounded Minorikawa.  “Hey! Stop it! Let me go!” But though he struggled fiercely, there was no escape. Once he was dragged through those laboratory doors, Minorikawa never wrote another article again.  
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Mar 18, 2021 20:07
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Well uh, I guess we have to go back to Osawa and fix this bad end.
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Mar 19, 2021 03:40
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Setup.  Hope.I don’t want to know how people feel. All I want to know is what viruses feel. I prefer viruses because they make no move to encroach on me from the other side of my microscope. They leave me free to let my thoughts wander as I wish. And while it may be true to say I understand viruses, I have never been able to understand my fellow humans. I don’t know them. I don’t know a single fundamental thing about them.  With Tanaka dead, trying to use the backup passwords for the fingerprint scanner had become a hopeless endeavor. The only remaining means of gaining entry to the storage area was to issue an emergency unlock request to the electronic lock manufacturer. And in order to do that, they needed approval from the six members of the board of directors.  Returning to his study, Osawa called Makino’s personal cell phone. “What is it?” Makino said gruffly as soon as he picked up. Osawa informed him of the situation, including Tanaka’s death and the fact that Maria was infected. The news left Makino at a loss for words. “Please,” Osawa begged, “you need to hold an emergency board meeting.” Makino was silent for a few moments. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” “Why not?! Are you just going to sit by and let my daughter die?!” Osawa raged. “And not just her! If Maria goes symptomatic...” If Maria goes symptomatic... That was still only an ‘if,’ but Osawa was reluctant to put his fears into words. “If she goes symptomatic, the Ua virus willsweep through all of Tokyo!” “I realize that,” Makino replied. “But one of the board members is overseas on business. Holding a meeting is impossible.” Despite the gravity of the situation, he sounded astoundingly nonchalant. Osawa couldn’t back down now. “There must be some other option! Like a web conference, or something!” “That doesn’t help us if we can’t get in touch with him,” Makino huffed. “He went missing a few days ago, in the middle of his business trip.” 428 Tip – Went missing posted:The head of Okoshi Pharmaceutical’s New York branch has been missing since April 25th, 9p.m. local time. There have been no demands for a ransom, and so the New York Police Department is investigating the possibility of some other form of foul play. Osawa was almost too appalled to be angry. “That’s the most ridiculous lie I’ve ever heard!” “Would you like to speak to my on-site contact, if you don’t believe me?” This was like arguing with a child. If Makino was deliberately working against him, he’d never know if this disappearance was real or not.  “In that case, can you please appoint a representative in his stead?” Osawa pleaded. “Selecting a representative is a complicated process. Even if we started right now, it would take until sometime tomorrow afternoon to complete.” Tomorrow afternoon... By then, it would be too late for any of this to matter. “Sir, can’t you see how absurd the things you’re saying are?!” “What would you have me do?!” Makino barked. “These are the realities of corporate politics!”  “I understand, sir. You will do nothing for my daughter. That’s what you’re saying.” “That’s not what I’m saying,” Makino replied. “Look-I’ll see what I can do to appoint a representative more quickly.” He hung up.  His tone had suggested that waiting for an appointee wouldn’t be a terribly hopeful prospect. I have no more allies, Osawa thought. All I have left now are foes. 
Still, he’d just have to take Makino at his word. Right now, that was his only course of action. Osawa sat down in front of his computer and quietly closed his eyes. If only I could just go to sleep and wake up tomorrow morning and find all of this resolved. All I’m asking for is a miracle. But he knew reality would never be so kind. He could hold his eyes shut as long as he wanted and it wouldn’t make this hopeless situation go away. He felt the anxiety welling up inside him until it seemed like he was going to explode. No music.Needing a distraction from his helplessness, Osawa opened up AyaNET. He knew this was mere escapism, but he couldn’t just sit and do nothing while waiting for Makino to call back. He posted a new topic with the title ‘Aya Fortune-Teller.’  I tried the Aya Fortune-Teller. My results basically said I was a bad person who can’t connect to the people around me. And you know what? That’s exactly right. I’m only interested in my own little world. That’s probably why my wife and my assistant at work got so fed up with me. It’s the same with my two daughters. What sort of things are they interested in? Do they have a lot of friends? What are their aspirations for the future? I don’t know any of those things. It never even occurred to me to find out. I’m such a terrible father. Lost in Thought. Osawa’s fingers ceased their tapping on the keyboard as he thought back to when Maria and Hitomi were younger. “Daddy!” “Daddy!” The two girls would follow him around like a pair of puppies. Their father was their everything-that much was clear just by looking at their faces. He’d felt a ticklish giddiness at having his girls cling to him so. He’d never felt anything like it in his life. But there were times where he also found it tiresome.  I am sick of being the person I am. There’s nothing I can do about that, though. I’m sure it’s far too late for me to change.  He poured out all his negative emotions into his post. It felt like stream-of-consciousness drivel, but he didn’t hesitate to write it down all the same. He wanted other people to know what a miserable excuse for a human being he was. At last, when he couldn’t think of anything else to add, he posted his bitter confession to the forum. No music.“You have got to be kidding me! It was Kajiwara-and Osawa had never heard him so angry.  Osawa headed into the living room, and found Kajiwara embroiled in a vehement argument with the other detectives. “I don’t care what HQ’s policy is-I will not just quietly go along with this!” Kajiwara had already screamed himself red in the face. “You’re out of line,” snapped one MPD detective. “Hold your tongue.” “I don’t care if I’m out line!” “You may have talent, I’ll give you that,” the other detective said. “But you’re a precinct detective, and this isn’t your jurisdiction. It’s not your place to question orders from higher up.” Wait, Osawa thought. Kajiwara really is a real detective after all? 428 Tip – MPD detective posted:Kiichi Sawatari, with the Metropolitan Police Department’s First Criminal Investigation Section. Having heard of Kajiwara’s past deeds from friends at the Shibuya precinct, he recommended to his boss that Kajiwara be assigned to the investigation at the Osawa residence. After seeing the detective’s interactions with Osawa, he is confident that his recommendation was in the right; however, given the circumstances, he can’t help but take a cold stance towards Kajiwara. “Go on. Explain the situation to Mr. Osawa.” Kajiwara bit his lip in frustration at the other detective’s order. “Very well,” he said. But before he could say more, Osawa noticed that the police equipment had all been cleared off of the table. Unrest. “Hold on!”“Hold on!” Osawa said. “What’s going on? Has something happened?” “Allow me to explain, sir,” Kajiwara said. His bitterness showed plainly on his face.  “We’ve been recalled, sir.” Osawa narrowed his eyes, fighting to keep the confusion from his face. “I...What do you mean by that?” He was shaking, terrified to have his suspicions confirmed. “I’m truly sorry, sir. For having been unable to help you.” Kajiwara gave a deep and solemn bow. 428 Tip – Recalled posted:The MPD has established a security force, headed by members of its Public Security Bureau, to deal with the bioterrorist threat. Because the kidnapping task force has not yet found Maria, and she is infected with the virus, the task force personnel have instead been absorbed into the security force, and will continue their work under its direction.  “But...Maria...what’s going to happen to Maria?” “Another unit has been tasked with bringing your daughter into custody, sir.” That much, at least, Osawa could process. “You’re going to place her under quarantine, aren’t you?”  Kajiwara’s lips stiffened, but he nodded. “In order to minimize the spread of the virus. So I’m told.”  “No!” Osawa cried. “You can’t do that! If you do, there won’t be any way to save her!” His head spun. “Please, I beg of you! You need to get Maria to me! I might be able to save her!” When Kajiwara didn’t respond, he turned to the other detectives.  “Please! Don’t-you can't place Maria under quarantine!” But the detectives’ only answer was to avert their eyes.  “Why are you all ignoring me?! Please, you have to listen! If you bring her to me, I can figure something out!  I know I can!” He plunked himself down on the floor, yelling and flailing his arms like a child throwing a tantrum.  The detectives exchanged sullen looks with one another, and then walked off and left him there. He knew he must be a sorry sight, but nevertheless he kept shouting after them. No music.  Only Kajiwara remained with him in the living room. “I’m sorry, sir. This was beyond my ability to stop.” He gave another apologetic bow. Osawa felt suddenly deflated. “No. You’ve done a fine job, Detective Kajiwara. It’s me who should be sorry. I’ve made such a disgraceful display of myself.” “That’s not true, sir. In fact I’m deeply moved. I can tell how much Maria must mean to you.” Osawa shook his head. “If I’d really been thinking about Maria, I would have made an effort to work with you detectives more. That was all just-self-absorbed shouting. A moment of emotional selfishness.” “And yet, as a result, you convinced me to stay here with you.”  Kajiwara proceeded to pull out his phone and put in a request with the task force headquarters to remain at the Osawa residence. He got into a heated spat with his commanding officer, but ultimately received permission to stay on as the police liaison with Osawa. “Well,” the detective said when he’d hung up. “You see? There are some people who are legitimately moved by a parental display of emotion. Even if I’m not certain that I can do very much in staying here with you.” 
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Mar 19, 2021 21:51
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Things that have gone missing, eh? That sounds useful.
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Mar 19, 2021 23:58
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Bananas are a great source of levity and potassium in these harsh times.
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Mar 20, 2021 12:18
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As funny as the food options are, I don't think Osawa's actually capable of making jokes. Let's go B.
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Mar 20, 2021 17:01
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No music.  “...you find things that have gone missing.” “Ah, like that plane ticket, you mean?” Kajiwara gave a bashful smile. “Yes. I’d never have found it if you hadn’t been here, Detective.” “Haha. Well, like they say, you can never find something when you’re looking for it.” Then a hint of sadness came to Kajiwara’s eyes, and his voice grew quieter. Chance Meeting.“My daughter...she had this little toy ring that she loved, and she lost it in our house somewhere.” “I didn’t realize you had a daughter, Detective.” “She just started grade school this year.”  “Oh really? She must be adorable.” “Well, I don’t get to see her as much as I’d like...” A lonely sort of smile crossed Kajiwara’s face. “Why’s that?” “Doing this job caused me to neglect my family...finally, about two years ago, my wife hit me with the divorce paperwork. I wanted to be able to keep our daughter with me, but...well, the law tends to favor the mother when it comes to custody issues...” The detective pulled two bars of chocolate from his pocket.  Osawa accepted one, but said nothing. “The toy ring she lost-I’d bought it for her as a birthday present. She loved it so much-she cried and cried when it was gone. I looked all over for it.” The detective bit into his own chocolate bar with a soft snap. “So then, later, this toy ring-I found it after my wife took our daughter away. And do you know where it was?” Osawa shook his head slightly. “Under my daughter’s mattress. Fell out when the bed was being taken out of her room. Isn’t that funny? That it was somewhere I never would have found if she’d stayed?” Another sad smile came to Kajiwara’s face before he went on. “I guess there wasn’t much point, though, finding it after she was already gone.” The man had lost his daughter-Osawa couldn’t help but sympathize.  Here was someone he could really talk to. He was sure of that much now. “Detective, I apologize. I’ve kept things from you, because I was worried that they involved classified corporate information.” “Oh?” Kajiwara’s eyes glimmered with interest. “Earlier today, I received some emails. They could be pertinent to the case.” “Would you mind letting me see them?” Osawa shook his head. “On the contrary.” 
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Mar 24, 2021 19:57
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We have nothing to hide in front of our new best friend. Let's A, read the reply.
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Mar 25, 2021 00:05
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Chance Meeting. “One moment. Just let me read this.” Osawa read the response.  I got that same result! Do you really think it’s too late? Don’t give up hope. Hang in there! p (^ - ^) q It’s never too late. Every family has its share of problems. Like, you’ll never find one that doesn’t, I’m sure. When it comes to family, there’s no such thing as “Game Over.” So don’t let it get you down, Julie! (i_ i) (^_^) Besides, I did learn one thing from reading your post. In the end, a father’s happiness is his daughter’s happiness. (^ o ^) No music.Kajiwara peered into the monitor. “A young girl is posting to a forum for people forty and older?” “It’s Pretty Honey. She always replies to my threads.” The detective furrowed his brow. “I see.” “Is something the matter?” “No. That last line there just has me curious, is all. A young girl writing something like that...well, that’s neither here nor there right now. Let me see those emails, if you would.” Osawa opened his email. He pulled up the images of the human testing on the monitor.  “What...is this?” Kajiwara stared at the monitor as if unable to look away. “These are images from unauthorized clinical testing of an antiviral drug I developed, carried out by my company without my knowledge.” “Images of a-I’m sorry, what was that?” The detective frowned at the unfamiliar terminology. “In simple terms, the antiviral is a wonder drug to combat the Ua virus.” “Hold on. Maria is infected with the Ua virus, isn’t that right?” “Yes. Ua is a species of virus discovered in South Africa relatively recently. Roughly twelve hours after infection, patients develop a cough, then a fever, then begin vomiting, and ultimately begin to bleed uncontrollably from all over, resulting in death. The mortality rate is...” Osawa was reluctant to say it. Kajiwara held his breath, waiting.  “...it’s nearly one hundred percent.” Kajiwara shuddered. “But-wait,” he said after a moment. “If you have this wonder drug, then Maria-” Osawa shook his head. “Without Tanaka, I have no means of getting it out of the lab.” Kajiwara’s frown deepened. “I see. It may not be much to go on, but I think we can put together at least one piece of our little mystery here. Pardon me one moment.” Kajiwara inspected the email address of the sender, “A,” then brought up the mail header. General Tip – Mystery posted:Something difficult or impossible to explain; an enigma. You see plenty of books titled The Mystery of Such-and-Such or The Secret of Whatever on bookstore shelves, but when you read them, you’re invariably disappointed by the mystery not being that mysterious after all. Tension. “You don’t see email addresses like this much. It’s seemingly from a foreign country, but that may be fake.” “You can tell that just from the email?” The detective flashed a little grin. “Take a look here. So if we just do this, and then this...” His fingers flew over the keyboard, calling up the header details, singling out the [Received: from] field. “This set of four numbers at the bottom is the sender’s IP address. Think of it as an ordinarily hidden location marker of sorts.” As he spoke, the detective pulled up a website called “IP Station.” He copied and pasted the set of four numbers and pressed the Enter key. The monitor showed the name of the provider, connection method, and other such details. Osawa couldn’t make heads or tails of most of it, but one thing drew his eye. General Tip – Provider posted:A vendor that provides an Internet connection service. A typical Internet connection requires a dedicated line; customers who do not already have one must make a contract for one with the provider. When the provider establishes your connection to the Internet, you are assigned an identifying number called an IP address.  Access Point: Shibuya Ward, Tokyo Kajiwara went into the email program’s options and checked the server info for Osawa’s connection. “Hmm...” Deep furrows formed in his forehead. “This here-this is the same provider that you use, Mr. Osawa.” “What does that mean?” “What kind of Internet connection do you have here at your house?” “What sort? Um, well, it’s plugged in over there, but...” Osawa pointed at the router.  “And does everyone in your family use that same line?” “Um...yes, I think so.” Kajiwara opened up a command prompt, then typed “ipconfig.” General Tip – Command prompt posted:A literal prompt for users to issue computer control commands via keyboard instead of mouse; also frequently used to refer to the window or program allowing for such. “Okay, so, if the same numbers we saw before pop up here, that’s a bad sign.” “Oh?” Osawa stared at the monitor.  Kajiwara pressed Enter, and a black window covered in white alphanumeric characters appeared. “What the heck?” Kajiwara muttered under his breath. “Wait, what’s going on?” Osawa asked. “Explain simply, so that I can understand.” “Faking an email address is simple enough, but the typical person wouldn’t be able to fake an IP. It’s very likely that these emails were sent from another computer inside this house.” Osawa had to stifle a gasp. The emails had been sent from his own house at around 11 o’clock that morning. Since Osawa hadn’t sent them himself, that left only one possible culprit: No music. Ai. Suddenly, his phone rang, nearly startling him out of his seat. Makino’s name showed on the incoming call display. Osawa quickly picked up.  “Is there an update on the emergency board meeting?!” he blurted. Makino’s voice was quiet and subdued. “I tried pulling whatever strings I could, but to no avail. I’m afraid holding a board meeting today just won’t be possible.”  The phone fell from Osawa’s hand. His only possible means of saving Maria was now gone. 
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Mar 25, 2021 21:09
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The emails are coming... from inside the house!?!?!
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Mar 26, 2021 02:39
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Setup. Cigarette Smoke. The taxi stopped outside of Heaven Publishing. The trip had taken ten minutes on the dot. “Thanks.” Minorikawa left a thousand-yen bill on the seat and exited the cab. “Sir!” the driver called after him. Minorikawa turned back around.  Kimizuka was leaning out the window to point at him. “It isn’t called ‘work’ because it’s fun, sir. The day will be over soon enough. Just hang in there a little bit longer.” The driver finished with a knowing grin. Minorikawa cracked a ghost of a smile; maybe his spirits had been lifted just a tiny little bit.  “Thank you,” he replied. “You’re a true friend of the working man.” He waved half-heartedly, then headed into the building. No music. “Mr. Mino!” Chiaki threw herself at him as soon as he opened the door to the editing office. News of the explosion was playing on the television. Minorikawa marched straight to his desk and opened up his laptop. While it booted up, he tried to get a handle on the current situation. “Where are the folks from the loan company?” he asked. “They’re here,” Chiaki said. “I have them waiting downstairs.” “Do they know Toyama’s dead?” “I’m sorry. I kind of let that slip.” “What about Hana?” “I’m not sure. I haven’t heard from her since she called earlier.” With a tiny sigh, Minorikawa started typing at his laptop.  By some miracle, his six pages of the copy were nearly wrapped up. Still, he needed to do whatever it took to see this job through to the end. That would serve as his final tribute to Toyama’s memory. He loaded his copy into the DTP software in order to set the layout. Bit by bit, actual magazine articles began to take shape. Then the editing department door swung open.  “Hey!” snarled the young man who barged in first. He kicked over a stack of books. “How long you gonna keep us waitin’, huh?!” Mystery. “Honestly, Segawa, must you be so rowdy?” A middle-aged man stepped in alongside him. “Are you Mr. Minorikawa, then?” he added as his eyes fixed on the journalist. He held out his business card.  “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Asao Ozu, from Takarada Financing. My deepest sympathies about Mr. Toyama. However, I am afraid that we do need you to give us back the money we loaned.” Despite his polite tone, the threat in his voice was plain. 428 Tip – Takarada Financing posted:A black-market lending firm that offers loans at an interest rate above what the law allows. Well-known for taking whatever steps necessary to collect What’s owed. Its business card slogan: “Got bad credit, but you need a loan? Call any time! We’ll put together a loan that suits YOUR needs!” “Look-next month’s issue of Four-Star General Gossip is definitely coming out. Couldn’t you please wait for repayment until we have the funds from those sales?” Minorikawa asked. That was exactly what Toyama’s plan had been, after all. “Well, we certainly aren’t monsters. If the magazine is going to be making you money, we wouldn’t mind delaying another month.” “You really mean it?!” Chiaki chirped.  “To clarify, that would be the case, if Toyama were still alive. Releasing the next issue is all well and good-but with Toyama gone, so too is the company. That will make full repayment of what we’re owed impossible, I expect” “Then what do you want us to do?” Minorikawa asked coldly. “How ‘bout we just cut to the chase?” growled the younger man, Segawa. “Dig out your ears and listen up!” Chiaki recoiled in a panic, and Minorikawa held up an interposing hand. “Knock it off,” he said. “You’re scaring the young lady.” A thin smile came to Ozu’s face. “All we want to know is where Mr. Toyama’s daughter is.”  “Yeah, that’s right!” Segawa said. “Tell us where the girl is!” “No way!” Chiaki squeaked in protest. “Hana’s just a little kid! She doesn’t have any responsibility to pay back the-” Ozu didn’t let her finish.  “We’re aware of that. Nevertheless, we’d still like to know where she is.” The law didn’t matter right now. Guys like this had all sorts of ways of wringing money out of people. It was clear from the looks on their faces that Ozu and Segawa had some wicked scheme up their sleeves. “Unless, of course, you would prefer to take on Toyama’s debts, Mr. Minorikawa? You are quite the accomplished reporter, after all.” Take on his debts, huh? Minorikawa didn’t know how much Toyama had borrowed, but it only took one look at these guys to tell him it was no small sum. “How about it?” Ozu asked. “The way you land scoop after scoop, I’m sure you’ll be able to repay us in full before you die.” 
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Mar 26, 2021 20:00
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Let's just call it even, with
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Mar 26, 2021 20:13
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Tie breaker between A and C.
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Mar 27, 2021 13:38
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C
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Mar 27, 2021 13:40
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Mystery. “Can’t we just call it even?” The two men stiffened. “What was that?” the older of the two demanded.  “Can’t we just call it even?” This time, Minorikawa spat the words out sharp and clear. The older fellow furrowed his brow, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. “You wanna say that one more time?” he growled. Minorikawa cleared his throat. 
“Call it even.” Music stops. The next thing Minorikawa knew, he’d been head-butted right between the eyes; an instant later he was slammed bodily down onto the desk. “You dumb bastard!” He could vaguely hear the middle-aged man’s voice ringing inside his head. That’s when he lost consciousness. “Mr. Mino!” Someone was calling to him. “Mr. Mino, wake up!” Chiaki? He forced his eyelids back open.  “Nngh. What happened?” “Here, could you please read this?” Chiaki held out a printed draft of her article. How long had he been knocked out? A minute...? No, maybe an hour? “Are you awake now, sir?” The voice of the middle-aged thug intruded on his dazed mind.  Looking around, Minorikawa saw the two men from Takarada Financing still there, casually seated on the sofa. He couldn’t have been out for too long, then. “We’ll just wait here until you’re inclined to take on this debt.” Minorikawa’s nose stung painfully.  “Please, can you read this?” Chiaki repeated. “It’s my copy from those street interviews.” “I know even if next month’s issue gets released it’s not going to fix the debt problem, but still...I mean I already wrote it and all.” Nodding silently, Minorikawa took hold of the copy. She was right: this wasn’t going to help with the debt situation. But when a professional took on a job, they saw it through to the end.  Minorikawa gave it a quick once-over. He saw immediately that the piece was lacking in structure.  He then read the article a second time, checking the finer details. Several off-theme sentences jumped out at him. “This is no good. Rewrite it.” He thrust the printout back at Chiaki. “Yes, sir.” She bowed her head and retreated to another desk.  The TV was still on. A news broadcaster’s voice suddenly broke through the silence, as well as Minorikawa’s concentration. “We’re live on the scene now, where an explosion in Shibuya has...” Minorikawa gazed blankly at the screen. He found his mind drifting to a particular memory of Toyama.  The door looked like it might fall apart at any moment, but Minorikawa didn’t care; he pounded on it as hard as he could. The “Toyama” nameplate popped off and fell to the floor. It was hard to believe this dilapidated apartment was the home of a newspaper editor who’d worked his way up from reporter. “Hey! Toyama! Get your rear end out here!”  At the sound of Minorikawa’s angry shouting, other tenants on the floor poked their heads out of their rooms to stare. He paid them no heed, continuing to call out.  Eventually Toyama opened the door, dressed in his sweats and undershirt. “Quiet down, you moron!” he snapped. “C’mon in...”  “I hear you tendered your letter of resignation at the paper.” Minorikawa sat cross-legged on the tatami-covered floor. “Tell me why!” Toyama quirked a lopsided grin. “You wanna know why I quit, huh? All right. Lean in close.” Minorikawa peered at him dubiously. “Huh? Why?” “I don’t want anyone overbearing this.” Resigned, Minorikawa leaned forward andturned his right ear toward Toyama. The man’s warm breath against his cheek was pretty unsettling.  At first he had trouble concentrating on Toyama’s story. But when the older man got to the crux of the matter, he found himself listening with rapt attention. By the time Toyama finished, Minorikawa was unable to suppress his shock. Best. “You’re-you’re starting your own publishing company?!” “Not so loud, dammit!” Toyama shushed him with a finger to his lips; he looked around warily, as if there might be spies in his own apartment. “Right, but-a publishing company?” Minorikawa said again, more quietly this time. “What are you doing for your distributor account?” All booksellers were required to use a wholesale distributor to circulate their publications. To do business with such a distributor, a publisher needed a specialized distributor account. “They’re not going to let a company with no track record open a new account with a distributor. I’m sure you must realize that.” Toyama grinned, a proud gleam in his eyes.  “I know. That’s why I bought one.” “You bought one?” “A ghost account, belonging to a publisher that went bankrupt.” Distributor accounts could go for tens of millions of yen. There was no way Toyama could afford that on his severance pay alone. He must have taken out a loan in order to make the purchase. But the publishing industry was in a slump nowadays; people just weren’t buying books much anymore. Starting up a new publishing company was a beyond-risky endeavor. “And I’ve already decided on a name for my company, Minorikawa.” Toyama’s face was positively beaming. “Get this: Heaven Publishing!” “‘Heaven’? That sounds...fatalistic.” “The idea is that the people who work for me will feel like they’re in paradise!” For all his kvetching about keeping quiet, Toyama was now exclaiming pretty loudly, himself. “I mean, I can appreciate your willingness to take the risk, but...surely your wife must have had objections?” Minorikawa said. Toyama fell silent; he went and opened up the refrigerator.  Minorikawa took a peek inside. Its shelves were mournfully spare, holding little besides beer cans and drinking snacks. “The missus left me. Took our daughter with her.” Those scant few words painted the picture clearly enough. Toyama grabbed a can of beer and tossed it to his guest.  “But no more sob stories!” he went on. He briskly cracked open his own can of beer. Weak foam bubbled from the top. “Cheers, Minorikawa! To Heaven Publishing’s big debut!” He’d cast everything aside, and was striving for a new beginning. If the man had braced himself for the challenge, it wasn’t Minorikawa’s place to tell him he was making a mistake. Even if it was an uphill battle he had little chance of winning.  “Congrats, Mr. Toyama.” Minorikawa pulled the tab on his beer can. “Cheers!” The two of them clacked their cans together. No music....one year had passed since Toyama founded Heaven Publishing. Minorikawa poked his head into the editing office, a bag from the convenience store in hand. “Hey boss, how’s business?”  “How does it look like it’s doing?” Toyama sat amidst a veritable mountain of returned stock, his expression bleak. The books were all bulky, nonfiction tomes-not exactly the sort to fly off the shelves. The man couldn’t even muster a smile for their reunion. General Tip – Returned stock posted:Bookstores do not purchase the books they sell, but rather take them on consignment. This allows them to return to the publisher any books that do not sell. “It’s been like this for every nonfiction book we’ve put out.” “Wow, starting right off with the bleak stuff, huh?’ “’Cause things are bleak. The only thing that’s selling is this gossip rag of ours.” Minorikawa pulled some beer cans from his bag, handing one to Toyama.  Toyama lifted an issue of Four-Star General Gossip from atop his desk. It was Heaven Publishing’s one breadwinner, the only thing keeping the company afloat. But the Gossip now seemed like it was buried in the red of the publisher’s nonfiction releases. “I really did have higher aspirations than this,” Toyama sighed, gazing in disappointment at the piles of unsold books. “But here were are, with our gossip magazine as our only viable publication.” The beleaguered bookseller chugged his beer. “Daddy, I’m hungry.” Minorikawa was startled to hear a young child’s voice. Devotion. He turned around to see a little girl nestled between the stacks of returned stock. “That’s my daughter, Hana,” Toyama said. “It’s...complicated, but she’s living with me, now.” “I see.” Minorikawa couldn’t press for more details with Hana right there. In all likelihood, things with Toyama’s ex-wife hadn’t been going well. “Go on, introduce yourself,” Toyama said. “This is one of daddy’s work friends.” Hana turned to Minorikawa with a bright little grin. “Hello. My name’s Hana. I’m six.”  “You want some of this?” Minorikawa held out a packet of dried squid he’d bought to go with the beers. “Sure!” Hana greedily stuffed her cheeks with the squid. Toyama flashed a sheepish grin. “Do you like living with your daddy, Hana?” Minorikawa asked, giving the girl’s hair a gentle ruffle.  “Uh-huh, I do! My daddy’s amazing. He runs a company.” Toyama let out a tiny, involuntary sob at his daughter’s ready praise.  “I’ll keep at it,” Toyama said, looking into his daughter’s smiling face. “Hana is more important to me than any high aspirations I might have had. I’ll keep shoveling out copies of the Gossip, and at least make sure she’s always got something good to eat.” “Daddy, this is really tasty!” Hana held up the pouch of dried squid. Tears welled in Toyama’s eyes. “Next time, I’ll make sure she has some sashimi instead of something like this.” “Hey. What do you mean, ‘something like this’?” Minorikawa grumbled. “I’m the one who bought it.” Toyama and his daughter laughed together.  It was a heartwarming sight, Minorikawa thought, a father and his girl getting along so well. Toyama might have been a hard-hitting journalist, but when he came home at the end of the day, he was just ‘daddy.’ It was only natural for the man, as a father, to put his child above anything else.  After gorging herself on snacks, Hana fell asleep on the sofa, looking well and truly satisfied. “You know, Minorikawa, Hana’s happiness means more to me than my lofty artistic ideals ever could.” Toyama kept his voice low as he regarded his daughter’s sleeping face.  And from that day forward, Heaven Publishing had shifted its focus to scandal rags, with Four-Star General Gossip as its pillar. Had that been for good, or for ill? Whatever the case, Toyama had abandoned his pride; Minorikawa had watched him become more and more of a miserable wretch. No music. Minorikawa snapped back into the present as a sheaf of pages appeared in front of his face. “Here you go,” Chiaki said, radiating anxiety. “Right.” Minorikawa gave her copy a close read-over, then thrust it back out to her.  “What did you even fix?” he asked. “Um, could you please tell me what parts are wrong?” she mumbled, hanging her head. “What are you talking about?”  “It’s just, well, we don’t have a lot of time, here, so I figure if I just fix the parts that need fixing...” Chiaki trailed off into an indistinct mutter. “Is that always how you go about fixing your copy?” “Um. Yes.”  “Then you’re never going to get any better! If someone tells you it’s no good, you rewrite the whole thing from scratch! Just making fiddly tweaks here and there is what an amateur does!” Chiaki dipped her head even deeper, cringing at the reprimand. Minorikawa let out a tiny sigh.  “Look. What I just told you-that’s what Toyama told me when I was first starting out. There were times he’d have me do dozens of rewrites. At first, I thought he was just pushing me around. But after rewriting things over and over, I realized something: there are a whole lot of ways you can write about the same thing. And that’s what helped me hone my skills as a writer.” Chiaki raised her head back up. “Oh wow. Really?” “If you can get that, then stick with it. Ride your submission deadline as close as you have to in order to write the best piece you can.”  “Okay. I can do it. I will do it!” Finally, Chiaki’s face brightened with a smile. “That’s the spirit!” The woman might have talent, but she hadn’t realized it yet. She needed to be able to stick to an assignment, even when things got tough. If she didn’t have that kind of resolve, she’d never make it as a freelancer.  “Oh, how touching,” Ozu chimed in, applauding. “I’m almost moved to tears. They’ll make a movie of this for sure. See, we had only been acquainted with that sad sap Toyama; we never knew there was such an upstanding fellow here who was so good at tough love.” Minorikawa shot to his feet and pounded his fist on the desk. “That’s about enough from the peanut gallery.” “Hold your tongue!” Segawa snarled. His eyes shone with a vicious gleam. “We’re gettin’ sick of waitin’ here!” “Segawa, you really are a short-tempered guy, aren’t you?”  Ozu clucked disapprovingly at his underling, then slid a sheet of paper onto Minorikawa’s desk. “Nevertheless, I’m afraid we do require a decision, now. If you’ll just stamp here, we’ll be on our way.” Chiaki stared down at the document. Decision. “Is this...a bond of recognizance?!” “Yeah, that’s right! That’s whatcha write when transferring a debt!” Segawa puffed himself up proudly.  Minorikawa silently looked over the contract. “If you don’t have a stamp, we’ll gladly accept a signature as well,” Ozu pointed out. “Face it, pal,” Segawa added, “if you don’t hurry up and sign, we’re never gonna stop goin’ after Toyama’s daughter!” Minorikawa snatched up a pen.  “Mr. Mino, you can’t do this! Think about what you’re doing!” Chiaki shouted. “If you go through with this, you’ll just wind up like Mr. Toyama!” “I won’t.” “Yes you will!” “Just who the hell do you think I am?! I’m Minoru Minorikawa, dammit! I’m going to land so many scoops it will make your head spin! And I’m going to pay back this debt and rebuild Heaven Publishing!”  “But...why would you take such a risk?” Chiaki sobbed. Minorikawa lowered his voice. “Because I owe him so much. I can’t stand by and let these scumbags kill his daughter.” No music.“A-haaaaaa!” Before Minorikawa could sign, Segawa startled him with a sudden exclamation. Impatience. Looking up, Minorikawa saw what the loan sharks had seen: little Hana, standing by the door. “Get her!” “On it, boss!” Ozu and Segawa rushed at the girl. “Run!” Minorikawa shouted.  Hana bolted right back out the door, but Ozu managed to snatch her up just as she reached the stairs. “Let’s be on our way, shall we?” A vile grin came to Ozu’s cruel face as he headed down the stairwell.  “Stop! Let her go!”  Minorikawa rushed after them, trying to grab the girl, but Segawa drove a punch right into his face.  “Oog...” The pain staggered him. Nevertheless, he managed to press on. “Get...your hands...off...off that...girl...” Dread. “Shut your drat mouth!” Something hard slammed into his chest. His vision went dark. He felt himself slipping from consciousness. Just before he blacked out, he heard Hana’s voice. “I’m sorry, Uncle Minorikawa.” Sorry? No. I’m the one who should apologize... But before his thoughts got any further, Minorikawa passed out.  
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Mar 27, 2021 19:30
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...oops. Um, whoever's fault that was, we should probably undo that. I think it was Achi?
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Mar 27, 2021 21:04
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Posting to push to next page.
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Mar 29, 2021 18:37
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