by Kotaro Isaka
Aoyagi looked down at his bag and gave it a pat. “I'm over thirty," he said. “Too old to worry about how I look."
“You've got it backwards. This is when you have to start worrying. If you don't, you'll slide right on into middle age before you know it. . . . And while we're on the subject, how's your love life since you and Haruko split up?"
For a moment, Aoyagi almost forgot he was a wanted man as he was drawn back into the mindless leisure of their student days.
“Well, there is someone I've been seeing," he said, thinking of Koume Inohara.
“If it feels right, go for it," Kazu said, without much enthusiasm.
Not knowing how to respond, Aoyagi changed the subject. “Have you seen Morita?" he asked. The bloodshot eyes and desperate voice came back to him. Was he still alive? Feeling his face begin to twitch, he pressed his mug to his lips.
“Morita?" Kazu said. “We went out for a drink when I was in Tokyo on business with my old job."
“Did he seem different?"
“Well, he's married."
“With a kid, I hear," said Aoyagi.
“I have to admit, I was shocked when I found out."
“I know. He didn't seem like the type."
“When I saw him, he hadn't heard you and Haruko had broken up." They said nothing more for a moment and sipped their tea. Aoyagi wondered how much he should tell Kazu about what had happened. And he wanted him to turn on the TV, to see what they were saying about Kaneda. But first, he thought, he would ask if he remembered their old talks about things like
THE INCIDENT
the Kennedy assassination. Before he could open his mouth, though, Kazu spoke up.
"There's something I wanted to ask you."
"What's that?"
Kazu peered down into his mug. "Did you do it?"
Aoyagi almost choked. Was he asking whether he'd killed Kaneda? But how could he think that? Were they already talking about him on television?
"Well? Did you?" Kazu said, looking him in the face now. His eyes widened. "You t//T/! Unbelievable!"
"No!" he blurted out. "1 didn't! How could 1?!"
"You sure?" Kazu said. Confused, Aoyagi studied his friend for a moment.
"Would you rather 1 had?" he asked.
"Well, not everybody gets to do it with a girl like Rinka. 1 guess they get standoffish when they're that famous."
Aoyagi could feel the tension draining out of him. "Maybe," he murmured, taking a long, slow breath.
"'Maybe,' nothing. You were hot shit when all that was happening. The hero of the hour. And Rinka seemed so grateful. 1 thought for sure you were getting it."
"Morita said the same thing," Aoyagi said, realizing how different the words sounded to him now. "Can 1 turn on the I'V?" he added.
"Sure." Kazu put down his mug and handed over the remote. At that moment, the phone rang and he jficked it up. "Sorry," he said on his way out of the room. "(jO ahead and turn it on."
A shot of the parade came on the screen. I hen, as it faded, the announcer began reading a rather commonj)lace list of things observed hy witnesses to the assassination: a large man wearing a face mask jK)king at his cell phone; a group of men studying a maj) on an observation deck across from the station; a woman wIkj had been gesturing wildly in the crowd just before the ex|)losion. But one ot them made Aoyagi's heart skij) a beat: "Two men were seen arguing in a white sedan on a sitle street just a short distance Irom the |)arade route." 1 hat was us. Morita and me.
He tried to stand, suddenly appalled at the idetj that they thought he was imj)licated in it, but then sank back to the floor. At least he hadn't been identified by the media yet. (ilancing at the door, he tould see a somber-fact'd
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Kazu out in the corridor, nodding over and over with the phone pressed to his ear. There was something ominous in his expression.
The TV switched to a commercial. He stared at the screen until Kazu came back.
“Everything okay?" Aoyagi asked.
“Yes, fine."
“Your girlfriend?" he teased, hoping to find a cheerier subject.
“Uh, yeah," said Kazu, sounding surprised.
“Having a fight?"
“Yeah, sort of."
“It's always something."
Looking down at his feet, Kazu told him, “Actually, she's coming over now."
“I see," he said, getting up and shouldering his pack. “In that case. I'd better be going. You two try to patch things up."
Kazu muttered something inaudible. “Will you be okay?" he managed to say finally.
“I'll be fine," Aoyagi lied.
“If you go left out the front door, there's an all-night restaurant straight up the street. A place with a big red sign."
“Sounds great," Aoyagi laughed.
“Could you wait there?"
“The big red sign?"
“I'll talk to her and tell her what's going on, then I'll call and you can come back here."
“You really don't have to bother," said Aoyagi.
“But we've got a lot to catch up on," said Kazu, looking serious.
Aoyagi saw no reason to refuse. On the contrary, he was grateful for the offer of shelter and someone to talk to. “Okay," he said. “I'll hang out there for a while, but if you need some space with her, just let me know."
“I'm sorry," Kazu added as he followed him to the door.
“just sort things out with her."
“I will."
“You know, there was something I've been wanting to ask you, too," said Aoyagi.
“What's that?"
THE INCIDENT
"Do you remember that night Morita and I showed up at your place unannounced?"
Kazu chuckled, his expression softening. "You mean the night he was 'rehearsing' for rejection?"
"It didn't hit me at the time, but later 1 got to wondering . .
"Wondering what?"
"Was your girlfriend there, in the closet?"
"What makes vou ask that, after all this time?"
"It was just a feeling 1 had. 1 guess it's too long ago to remember."
"No, how could 1 forget? We were just—you know—'getting friendly' when you showed up."
"But you had that gross sweat suit on."
"It was all 1 could find," Kazu laughed. "1 threw it on while she got in the closet."
"Well, sorry for the interruption!"
"Anyway, after you left, we had a good laugh. She said 1 had the weirdest friends."
T here was one other thing. "Is the girl who's coming over now the same one?"
"No, of course not," said Kazu, as if he thought it odd to still be seeing the same girl. "But 1 sometimes wonder what happened to her. T he last time 1 saw her we had a huge fight. T hen she used the fire extinguisher to do a number on my apartment. A real bomb scene."
"A fond farewell to remember her by."
"Yeah, guess you could say she 'extinguished' the fire in my heart."
"Oh, please!" Aoyagi groaned.
"Do you think about Haruko much?"
Aoyagi felt blindsided by the question. "Not much," he said.
"(jirlfriends are funny that way. When you're with them you feel like you know everything about them. But once you s|)lit up, you lose track ol them completely."
"1 know what you mean," Aoyagi murmured. Sli|)|)ing into his shoes, he st(jod in the open door. "1 won't mind il you two lool around a while beloie you call," he told him. Kazu gave a hallheartetl smile.
"Aoyagi," he said.
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"What?"
"I'm sorry, really."
"Don't worry about it. I'm the one who dropped in out of the blue."
"I just didn't know what else to do." He looked crushed.
Aoyagi caught sight of the fire extinguisher in the hall. "If it turns out she came to finish the fight, make sure you hide that," he said.
"Will do." There was a hint of relief in his smile. Aoyagi had turned to go
when Kazu spoke up one more time: "You really didn't do it?"
Aoyagi stopped. It didn't seem worth the trouble. "C^f course I did," he said. To his surprise, Kazu looked shocked.
"Really?" he murmured.
Aoyagi smiled and headed for the elevator.
It was hard to miss the big red sign. The dinner hour was over, so the place wasn't crowded—a couple of women at one table, a few people eating alone. A sour-faced manager tried to take him to a table by the window, but he asked for one at the back. It made him nervous to be too visible.
He wasn't really hungry, but he ordered pasta and something to drink. Then he just sat, staring into space. His exhaustion was becoming a line of tense muscle down the back of his neck, and he thought he might feel better if he could close his eves for a few minutes, with his head dowri on the table. But almost immediately the images from the news and the announcer's droning voice began replaying in his brain. And then there was Morita. As drowsy as he was, he knew he would never get to sleep.
When the food arrived, he took out his cell phone and put it on the table. Only then did it occur to him that he would need to turn it on to get Kazu's call. He held the phone in his left hand while he twirled some spaghetti with his right. An image of a Security Pod flashed into his head: a little rocketshaped capsule—or just a glorified mailbox, maybe? Was there one nearby iritercepting every radio wave in the vicinity? But even without the pods, couldn't they locate a cell phone just by its signal? The phone in his hand seemed insignificant yet dangerous as well.
He pressed the power button. T here was a faint musical tone and the display came to life. A second later, the phone rang, as if someone had been waiting for that very moment to find him. It was unnerving.
THE INCIDENT
At first he thought they'd found him, and then that it might be Kazu, but it was Koume Inohara's name that appeared on the screen. He put the phone to his ear.
"Masaharu?" she said. "I've been trying to get you all day." She was a couple of years younger than him but she talked to him like an older sister.
He lowered his voice and glanced around the restaurant. "I'm sorry. I've been kind of busy."
"I kept getting your message box."
"You heard about the helicopter?" he said.
"That's what you were calling about?"
"It just seemed pretty incredible."
"Where are you now?" she asked. He could feel his hand tense at the question. Morita had told him to be suspicious of her—to be suspicious of everyone—unless he wanted to end up like Oswald.
He started to say that he was waiting for a friend, but suddenly questions began forcing their way into his head. Was it just a coincidence that she should call him now and want to know where he was? Was it a coincidence that they'd met in the first place? That she'd been sitting next to him at the employment agency and had complained about the unusable terminal? Or had the whole thing been arranged?
"I'm going to see a friend," he said. Better to keep it vague. Her murmur was equally noncommital. He realized she had never revealed much about herself yet always seemed to be sounding him out, trying to find out more about him. Once the susj:)icions started, though, there was no end to it. Hveryone looked like the enemy.
"But it is pretty weird," she said. "It's not every day they kill a prime minister with a model helicopter!"
He was startled by her choice of words. And somewhat relieved. How could someone S(^ straightforward be involved in any of this? "Do they know what kind it was?" he asked.
"1 haven't been watching, but I heard ()chiai is going to be on I'V tonight as some sort of exj)ert."
"Ochiai?"
"T fie man who owns the shop where I bought your helicopter."
Aoyagi looked across the room to the parking lot, dyeil ic‘d by the sign oxer
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the restaurant. He realized Kazu might be trying to call. "I've got a lot going on right now, so I'm going to hang up," he said. "I'll call you back later."
"Later? 1 was hoping we could go out somewhere."
Why not? It didn't make much difference whether he stayed at Kazu's or got together with her. He didn't have anywhere else to go. And since Kazu's girlfriend was coming over, it probably made sense not to bother them.
A waitress passed his table, glancing in his direction and then moving on. Perhaps she didn't like him talking on the phone, or maybe she just had other things on her mind, but there was something oddly inquisitive about her. She disappeared into the kitchen and didn't come back. He suddenly felt anxious.
"I'll call back," he said again.
"You know, 1 can always tell when something's bothering you," Koume said. "Are you all right? Has something happened?"
"I'm fine," he replied. Haruko had once told him that the one thing she didn't want to become was a person who could lie with a straight face. They had been watching a politician on TV trying to wriggle his way out of some scandal.
After hanging up on Koume, he sat staring at the display on the phone. He knew he should turn it off, but instead he dialed Kazu's number and listened to it ring. The waitress brought his order, seeming flustered as she put it in front of him.
"What's up?" Kazu said.
"1 just wanted—" Aoyagi began, but Kazu cut him off.
"What's up?" he repeated.
"Sorry, are you in the middle of something?"
"No, not really."
"It's just that 1 don't think I'll be able to use my phone much longer."
"Low battery?"
"Yeah," said Aoyagi, realizing he had actually become one of those people who could lie with a straight face. "1 know it's a lot to ask, but would you mind coming to get me here if it turns out 1 can stay at your place? Or calling the restaurant?"
"Come get you there?" Kazu muttered and was silent for a moment.
"Kazu?" he said at last.
"Look, I'm sorry."
THE INCIDENT
"About what?"
"I'm really sorry."
"What do you mean?" Aoyagi said. He wanted to tell his friend to forget about him and look after the girl. "Kazu," he started to say, but the line went dead. For a moment he considered calling back but then let the phone fade out. When he looked up, the waitress was standing over him. Startled, he sat back abruptly, banging his knees against the bottom of the table. The coffee cup rattled.
"Excuse me," she said, blinking nervously. Aoyagi was tempted to stand up and leave the place without another word. He was reaching for his backpack when she managed to get out the rest of her question. "Aren't you the deliveryman?"
He looked at her again. She was smiling now and blinking even harder. "I used to see you on TV. I was a big fan."
"Thanks."
She opened the little notebook she was holding. "Could I get your autograph?"
"I'm not a celebrity," he stammered, shaking his head. "I'm not even a deliveryman anymore." He had asked hundreds of people for their signatures on his rounds, but it felt very strange to have someone ask for his, and even stranger to be refusing. He had never known what to do when people were reluctant to sign his delivery slips, but the girl gave up easily enough, turning to go with a disappointed look. Feeling guilty, he got up and headed for the bathroom at the back of the restaurant, taking his backpack with him just in case.
He looked at himself in the mirror. T here was a scratch on the side of his face, and he could feel the bruises on various parts of his body. His eyelids were puffy; his jaw hurt where his knees had hit. He rinsed his hands, ran them under the air-drier, and left the bathroom. As he was making his way down the narrow |)assage toward his table, he noticed that the automatic door at the Iront ol the restaurant had just swung open. He st()p|)ed and instinctively retreated a step.
Five men came in the door. No one he recognized. Some in suits and some not, but all live were well built- like an aiiKitem rugby team going out loi dinner alter practice. T hey had a hard look, clearly not the ollit e crowd stoking
uj) tor a long night.
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The short, middle-aged man in the lead flashed an ID of some kind at the manager, while the other four looked around the room. T hese guys obviously played on the same team as the ones who had shown up at Inai's apartment.
T he one at the back was especially impressive: almost 190 centimeters tall, crew cut, broad shoulders, muscular chest—like a black belt in some martial art. He had earphones on and was carrying a firearm so casually it could have been an umbrella. It seemed incredible that anyone could walk into a restaurant with a gun in this city, in this country. Which may have been why the other customers paid no attention to the new arrivals or this man's shocking accessory. Maybe they thought it was an umbrella?
Aoyagi stepped back, then turned and ran back to the bathroom. Opening a window in one of the stalls, he dropped his pack to the ground outside. Then he climbed onto the toilet seat and used the window frame to haul himself up. His heart was pounding. He knew they could come bursting through the door at any moment, but the thought somehow made him waver. He managed to pull the upper half of his body through the window, then found he couldn't twist around. Finally, spurred on by the fear that someone might grab his legs, he slithered out. His jeans caught on something and he felt a pain in his leg, but he stretched his hands above his head and let himself fall to the ground.
The shock disoriented him for a moment. Groaning, he sat up and brushed the dirt from his hands. Then the wall next to him shook, and there were shouts and loud banging. A gun went off inside. He needed to get away, to put a safe distance between himself and these men. But what was safe now?
Masaharu Aoyagi
"Legally speaking, the safe distance isn't clearly specified." Aoyagi, Morita, Haruko, and Kazu were sitting on the ground like well-behaved schoolchildren, listening to Todoroki. He wore a pair of light blue pants and a white T'-shirt, and they could see his belly wobble every time he gestured at them.
THE INCIDENT
Morita had kidded him that he should wear something a little less revealing, but the boss had brushed this off. "I should show up in my birthday suit. Give you kids a real thrill!" They had groaned at the thought.