Index:
- Part One
- Part Two
- Part Three
“Why do I have to be the lead? That’s totally unfair!” Taniguchi complained loudly between munches, bringing down his fists on the laminate tabletop for added emphasis. More than a few patrons in the family restaurant stole covert and not-so-covert glances at the him and the other two high school students sat with him at their table by the corner.
“Now, now, Taniguchi,” Kunikida said in a placating tone, uncomfortably aware of the attention they were gathering. “Everyone here was pressured into joining the cast. You’re far from the only one who will have to perform in front of an audience.”
“Well, sure, but the lead?” Taniguchi grumbled, more sullen than angry this time, and took a big bite of his personalized hamburger, most likely to give himself an excuse to remain quiet.
“It’s not so bad, really,” Kyon shrugged, apparently unconcerned as he stirred his coffee. “It’s just a school play for the Cultural Festival, a parody at that, and our dear ‘ultra stage director’ promised us reduced manual labor for our troubles.”
Kyon sipped from his cup and made a small grimace of disgust, then proceeded to drink in long draughts as if to try to finish it as soon as possible. “My point is, let’s just make some memories to laugh at ourselves in the future. Perhaps even fondly, someday.”
The two other boys at the other side of the table shared an incredulous look. Kunikida finished his morsel first—salmon with roasted asparagus—and asked the question the both had, “Kyon, you seem to be surprisingly cavalier about this.”
“Yeah, how come you’re not wise-cracking and being as unhelpful as possible. You know, whining, Kyon-style.”
Kyon frowned and opened his mouth to protest, but his retort became a thoughtful silence before it could leave his lips. “I don’t know,” he mussed aloud. “It just doesn’t seem like such a big deal, I suppose.”
“Must be a matter of perspective,” Kunikida posited. “As a soon-to-be married man, probably it’s difficult for you to get worked up over things of little importance in the long run.”
“It’s amazing how fast they grow up, isn’t it, Kunikida-dono?” Taniguchi crossed his arms and nodded sagely, trying and failing to hide his smirk behind his best old-man voice impersonation.
“Indeed, they do, Taniguchi-san,” the shorter guy mirrored his gestures and intonation in a vaguely paternal manner as well. “It seems like it was just yesterday when our boy was sneaking out of the classroom for who-knows-what with who-knows-whom!”
“Ah, to be young again and in love!”
Kyon snorted at his friends antics and took another swig of coffee.
“By the way,” Kunikida begun. “You actually did a disappearing act yesterday. Missing class is a bad habit to fall into, of course, but I must admit that I’m somewhat impressed by how you managed to sneak past both world history and math teachers without either of them noticing a thing.”
“Guy must be a disciple of the Suzumiya’s secret school of truancy and mayhem,” Taniguchi commented. “If middle school taught me anything about life, it’s that there’s people who can and likely will get away with crazy stuff without getting caught.”
“Haruhi isn’t nearly as bad as you’re making her out to be,” Kyon protested lightly.
“She isn’t, now. Before Kitago and especially before you, that’s entirely a different story, dude.”
Kyon raised an eyebrow at him. “Nah,” he waved a hand dismissively. “If anything, I was just the guy who kept talking to her. Change must come from within and all that Zen.”
Taniguchi blinked at him several times and took a forkful of his french fries and chewed slowly.
“Kyon, if you don’t mind telling us,” Kunikida prompted after Taniguchi remained silent for a minute, “can I ask you why did you leave class yesterday? That’s not something you would do without a good reason.”
“Not at all,” he said amiably and finished his coffee. “I got a call from my part-time job. A situation came up and we had a conference call to work on the problem.”
“Sound serious,” Kunikida remarked.
Kyon made a so-so gesture. “Urgent maybe, but nothing too unusual. One of… my sempais volunteered to deal with it and that was it. In hindsight, I probably should have simply told the teacher that I needed a bathroom break instead of sneaking around. However…” he trailed off and suddenly took a furtive and efficient peek at his surroundings.
Apparently satisfied with the results, he reached into an inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a stainless steel thermos. Without saying a word, Kyon opened flask and poured some of its still steaming hot content into his empty cup. “… as with everything else in life,” he continued and sipped slowly, savoring the taste, “sneaky-ness has its place and time.”
Taniguchi chuckled. “Suzumiya’s virus definitively got you. What’s that?” he asked.
“Coffee.”
“Seriously? For a moment I thought it was, I don’t know, Irish coffee.”
Kyon raised a questioning eyebrow.
“It’s a cocktail,” Kunikida explained. “A mix of hot coffee, Irish whiskey and brown sugar.”
Kyon shook his head. “Just black coffee. The real stuff, though.” He looked at his friends’ still unfinished plates. “Probably it won’t go too well with what you guys ordered for lunch, but do you want some?”
Kunikida declined politely with a wave of his hand. Taniguchi, feeling more curious than his classmate nodded and said, “Sure, I’d like a sip.”
Kyon put the cup down on its saucer and pushed both across the table. “Err, don’t you happen to carry another cup in that duster of yours,” Taniguchi asked.
“The flask does come with two small mugs, but—”
“A small mug is fine, long live the small mug,” Taniguchi cut in.
Kunikida snorted. “Let me guess, ‘Bros do not share dessert’?” he quoted.
“Applies to coffee and popcorn, too.”
Kyon looked a little confused at the interplay, but he simply shrugged and poured some coffee into the stainless steel mug and handed it over to Taniguchi, taking care to avoid the attention of any waitresses in the process.
“Sugar?” he asked, holding out his still-unopened tubular sachet of sweetener between his middle and index fingers.
“Nah, I’m good,” Taniguchi assured him and took a small sip. He blinked and looked at the mug, surprised. Then he took another sip, slow and deliberate, immediately followed by a longer draught. The cycle repeated itself with small variations a few times more until he muttered, “What the—?”
“Something bothering you?” Kyon chimed in, suppressing a grin.
“Yeah, just wondering what kind of muddy water I’ve been drinking all my life,” he said admiringly.
“That good?” Kunikida asked.
“Better.” Taniguchi turned to Kyon. “Where did you—?”
“Kanae-chan brews coffee for the SOS Brigade during meetings after half-days every other Saturday,” Kyon explained, obviously expecting the question. “Today, I was supposed to miss the chance because of work, but Asahina-san thought ahead and let me borrow her spare thermos.”
Taniguchi finished his coffee and handed the mug back to Kyon.
“Damn, little girl knows her stuff. Dude, if you guys ever want to attract new members for your club, you just have to offer a little of this elixir to the new meat on the recruitment week and collect the applications,” he praised. “Say, can I have some more?”
“Sure,” Kyon agreed and poured more coffee for Taniguchi and himself. Then he produced a second mug and turned to the other person at the table. “Do you—?”
“I appreciate it, but I think I’ll pass,” Kunikida declined. He made a thoughtful expression and observed, “Did you say something about work?” He looked at the table and took notice of the fact that Kyon just ordered coffee unlike Taniguchi and himself. “Do you have an appointment soon?”
“Yes. Someone is supposed to meet me here in”—he glanced at his wristwatch—“eleven minutes from now. Which reminds me…” Kyon pulled out his wallet and a few purple notes and place them on the center of the table. “Don’t worry about the bill. It’s my treat today.”
Taniguchi practically glowed. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
For his part, Kunikida looked visibly troubled. “Er, Kyon, I don’t think you should pay for my lunch. I hardly eat out and that’s why today I indulged myself and—”
“I said you don’t have to worry about it,” Kyon insisted.
“Still, my order is probably too expens—”
“It’s not a problem, really.”
“No need to be so shy, dude.” Taniguchi offered. “We’re among friends. What’s the big deal?”
“But—”
“Kunikida,” Kyon pressed on in softer voice. “If I made you feel uncomfortable, I apologize.” He bowed his head at a small angle, enough for his friends to notice but almost imperceptibly for anyone else at the restaurant.
Kunikida winced. According to his upbringing, forcing someone, especially a friend, to behave more politely than necessary is likely more of a faux pas than simply accepting his generosity.
Taniguchi pretended to ignore his friends and picked a menu card and skimmed through the pages.
“If an invitation for lunch is unacceptable, how about an exchange? A meal for knowledge?” Kyon proposed.
“Sorry, it was rude of me,” Kunikida apologized and returned the bow. “I’m thankful for your invitation and if there’s something you want to ask, please do so without reservation.”
“I’ll do so, thank you.”
“Dammit, guys. If you two spurt any more formalities, this is going to look like a marriage interview and I don’t want to play matchmaker,” Taniguchi complained.
Kyon and Kunikida snorted.
“And Kunikida would be the bride-to-be,” Taniguchi added.
“Hey!”
“It’s for the best, bro. Just try to picture Kyon in a dress. Long story short: buff drag.”
Kyon made a face. “I really think it’s against my best interest to comment on that, but I don’t think I qualify for ‘buff’,” he air-quoted.
“I think Taniguchi has a point,” Kunikida threw in his opinion. “If I’m not mistaken, you have a background in martial arts. Is that correct?”
“Well, a little,” Kyon confirmed. Taniguchi rolled his eyes and decided to focus on his food before it got too cold.
“Weight training? Abundant, protein-rich diet?”
Kyon thought for a moment. “Not particularly.”
Kunikida nodded to himself. “It’s only a hypothesis, but I think that your training regimen is designed to produce, let’s call it, ‘efficient’ muscle instead of simply ‘strong’ muscle. That’s it, your physique is closer to one of a swimmer or a long-distance runner than a weightlifter or a heavyweight boxer.”
“I think I got what you’re saying, but I’m not sure if I agree.”
“You’ve got Bruce Lee’s body type,” Taniguchi summed up. “While wearing normal clothes, you look like everyone else. Shirtless, you’re probably the worst wingman ever. In a drag, you’re either funny as hell or a very good reason why Brain Bleach should be a thing.”
“Then, let’s all be thankful that Haruhi withdrew her original plan of a cross-dressing pageant for our class’ official activity,” Kyon confided.
The other two boys widened their eyes in identical shocked expressions and cried out in impeccable unison, ““What!?””
Kyon sipped his coffee again and calmly elaborated, “Just like it says on the tin. We got lucky that an anonymous playwright”—he unconsciously nodded to his left shoulder for reasons unknown to Taniguchi and Kunikida—“presented an original script called Pretending to know Hamlet to her and now the rest is history… Feeling like we dodged a bullet, don’t you think so, too? Hamlet? Laertes?”
““Yeah…”” they breathed out at the same time.
Kunikida shook his head. “Let’s forget about that. Kyon, what did you want to ask me before the… digression?”
“Oh, right, I almost forgot. In layman’s terms, what can you tell me about Fermat’s theorem?” Kyon asked.
Taniguchi frowned. “That sounds like homework. Please tell me we won’t talk about homework.”
“… It depends. Which one of them?”
Kyon blinked. “Is there more than one?”
“A few. I recently looked into the subject and, as far as I can remember, there is Fermat’s little theorem, Fermat’s Last theorem, Fermat’s theorem on sums of two squares,—”
“My God, it isn’t just homework. It’s math homework,” Taniguchi muttered to himself disgusted, but his words remained unnoticed.
“—Fermat’s theorem of the stationary points of differentiable functions and I think there is a Fermat’s principle related to the law of refraction.”
“Worse. It’s extra credit stuff on top of that…”
“I see,” Kyon nodded thoughtfully to himself. “Which one of them would you say is the most famous?” he asked after a moment.
“…… That’s, err.” Kunikida coughed once into his napkin. “That would be, without a doubt, Fermat’s Last theorem.”
Kyon raised an eyebrow. “What’s so special about it?”
“For one, despite its simple formulation, it remained just a conjecture for more than 350 years. Many, many mathematicians across the centuries tried to either prove it or find a counterexample—”
Taniguchi waved his hands to get his friends’ attention. “Wait, guys. Can we change the subject? Please?”
“What’s wrong?” Kyon asked.
“Well, err—”
“If I had to guess, I’d say he’s still upset with his almost failing score on last math text…” Kunikida trailed off.
“Something like that, yes.”
“… or rather, Yanagimoto-san is.”
“Coughjerkcough,” Taniguchi snarked back, actually vocalizing the word ‘cough’.
“Seriously? Even I got a score above my average on that one. What happened?” Kyon said.
Taniguchi sighed. “Remember two weeks ago when I got my scooter license?”
“At your first try, I remember.”
“That’s right. The thing is I got carried away with the preparation for that test that I…” He made a vague gesture.
“And now Yanagimoto-san is mad at you because she’s the one tutoring you,” Kyon guessed.
“Yeah,” Taniguchi sighed again.
Kyon seemed to consider something for a short while. “Tell me something. Why did you give priority to the driving test? As far as I know, you can take it whenever you want, what was the rush?”
Taniguchi scowled at Kyon, set his mouth in a flat line and then… blushed.
Both Kyon and Kunikida raised two eyebrows at that. The former politely gestured him to elaborate.
“… Let’s say, hypothetically, that there’s this guy who got an old scooter for free from a relative who moved to overseas for work. Would you blame him for rushing to get his license to invite his g-girlfriend for a ride?”
“… Of course not, but… isn’t, er, against the law for two people—?”
“—to ride a scooter at the same time on a public street? Yes, it is. That was question number 49 of 50, by the way,” Taniguchi grumbled.
“So, does Ya—, I mean, does the girlfriend in this hypothetical scenario know exactly why the guy got a low score on his math test?” Kyon formulated.
“…………… No.”
“I think you should tell her.”
“No! That’s—, I don’t think the guy wants to make a bigger fool of himself.”
“In my opinion, a well-meaning fool is easier to forgive than an ungrateful idiot, but…”
“But?”
Kyon sighed. “Let’s say, still hypothetically, that there’s a meddlesome person who knows a few friends of that girlfriend and might, just might, mention the whole story to them. In turn, these friends of hers may decide tell her about it. That way, she can get a better idea of what’s going on and possibly become more receptive to her boyfriend’s explanations.”
Taniguchi blinked at him owlishly.
“In that scenario, would the guy get upset with that?” Kyon asked, putting annoyed emphasis on the roundabout manner of speech.
“I don’t think he would,” ‘the guy’ said with a sigh of his own.
“You sure?”
“Yes. Thanks, man.”
“Not a problem. Now, let’s go back a bit. Kunikida, what else can you tell me about—?”
“E-Excuse me, sir,” a new voice stammered. “Are you ‘K-Kyon’?”
The three boys turned to the newcomer, surprised. They quickly recognized her as one of waitresses working the tables, but not the one who took and later brought their orders.
The young woman, probably not older than twenty-two with short black hair and glasses, was dressed in a white blouse, simple black pants and a long patterned apron with a nametag reading ‘Yukari’.
Yukari’s face was pale, she was obviously trembling with fear and her eyes were bright with unshed tears. In one hand she carried a cellphone and a large manila envelope in the other.
Kyon narrowed his eyes. “Yes. How can I help you?” He pointed at the phone and mouthed the word ‘speaker’ to the waitress. She nodded.
“There’s a g-group of—, of g-gentlemen outside who instruct me to h-hand over this folder to you without bringing anyone else’s attention to m-myself,” Yukari said in a soft voice, but loud enough for Taniguchi, Kunikida and whoever it was at the other end of the line to hear. “Here.”
Without further ado, Kyon accepted the envelope and browsed through contents without removing any pages from the folder. For the briefest of moments, Kyon’s face twisted in an angry visage like his friends at the other side of the table never saw before. Yukari almost jumped in fright at the sight of it.
Kyon took the phone from the waitress’ hands with a slow and deliberate manner as if to not scare her further, pushed a button and said to the receiver without preamble, “How do you want to do this?”
A minute that felt like an eternity went by while Kyon held a phone conversation using mostly monosyllables. Then he raised from his chair, pressed the same button again and turned to Taniguchi and Kunikida.
“Sorry, guys,” Kyon said apologetically, something like shame tainting his voice. “Stay here for another half a hour and then go home. You’ll be fine.” He turned to the young woman expectantly. She nodded shakily and begun to walk towards the back of the store.
Kyon followed after her and a few seconds later he disappeared through a set of double doors.
Sixty seconds later, Taniguchi and Kunikida still remained on their seats in astonished paralysis.
Nobody else noticed a thing.
Nobody reached for their phones to call the police. No patron broke up their conversation to glance at them and wonder what was wrong with them. Not even the staff seemed to notice the absence of one of their own.
A little while later a waitress, the one in charge of attending their table, approached the two boys in school uniform and asked whether they wanted dessert. She thought nothing of the empty chair in front of them but she did remark on the small pile of 5,000 yen bills on the center of the table.
“How was everything?” she asked politely. “Can I interest you in our dessert menu?”
For some reason, this snapped Taniguchi out of his stupefaction.
“Fuck!” he snarled, unconsciously grabbed his school bag and jumped out of his chair.
People sitting at the nearby tables stared at the high school student with disapproving eyes.
“Yeah, you heard me,” he snapped at them and went for the double doors.
“Wait! Sir, that area is off-limits for costumers,” the waitress complained a few steps behind him.
After the threshold, Taniguchi found another set of double doors leading to the kitchen and a corridor to his right with a couple of doors to one side and an emergency exit swinging ajar at the end.
Taniguchi ran through the hallway without any clear idea of what to do after leaving the building. He pushed the heavy-duty steel door with his shoulder and arrived to a small parking area at the end of an alley.
Yukari stood on her knees next to a row of parked bicycles, her glasses forgotten on the ground. She was crying in earnest, uncontrollable sobs interrupted by hiccups and whimpers.
“Yukari!” the other waitress cried out and immediately kneeled down next to her. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”
Yukari recognized her coworker and hugged her without thinking. “They took him. They wanted to—,” she sniffed, “—to h-hurt me, but he didn’t let t-them. I-I couldn’t… a thing. I couldn’t do…”
Kunikida arrived at some point carrying a school bag under each arm and stopped in his tracks at the sight of both women.
“Where?!” Taniguchi half asked, half demanded, with as much authority as he could manage.
Yukari looked at him, seemingly in recognition, and said, “Car. Black s-sedan. Big.”
He sprinted towards the street. “Don’t go!” Yukari cried out. “G-Guns, they have guns!”
The shorter boy blanched. “Taniguchi, wait! It’s too dangerous. We have to call the police!”
Taniguchi faltered for a second, but then immediately hurried his steps and shouted back, “You call them! At least we need to know which way they took him!”
As he feared, once he stepped into the street, he looked at both sides and saw no black sedan in either direction. A curse died in his throat when the sound of numerous car alarms went off at the same time from some point to the north.
Lacking better clues, Taniguchi tracked down the source of the noises and traveled west after a corner. Halfway to the next intersection he located it. The lights of every vehicle in a rental car lot flickered in tandem with their sirens, creating a deafening cacophony.
Taniguchi put a wrist through the handle loop of his school bag and covered both of his ears with his palms. Soon he realized that nobody was trying to turn off the alarms, no personnel of the rental car company seemed to be present to get the situation under control.
Following his hunch, he walked through a missing section of the tall, removable security fence surrounding the street side of the lot. Stealth wasn’t an issue with so much noise drowning his own, but he made sure to keep his head down to avoid being spotted just in case.
There wasn’t any need to sneak around.
After a short patch covered by gravel, Taniguchi found a foreign car matching the description given by Yukari, hidden from sight from the street by the front row of parked cars. Its four doors were completely open and around the sedan…
Taniguchi gulped. Around the sedan found the unconscious bodies of six men. Three dressed in black suits, two in cheaper-looking suits sporting big round pins with the logo of the rental car company and the last one had a dirty and oil-stained set of blue overalls.
All of them carried silenced weapons, either pistols in holsters peaking beneath their jackets, a few discarded guns a few feet away from the closer body and an assault rifle with a large suppressor attached to the barrel and hanging by a nylon strap over one shoulder for the one guy without a suit.
A sudden need to feel himself armed and safer pressed Taniguchi to grab one of the pistols, but he reasoned that without the proper training he had better chances to hurt himself rather than otherwise and left the weapons alone. Instead, he looked around for any sign of Kyon and his attention was drawn to the only other thing out of place.
A large delivery van, wearing the colors of a known hardware store chain, stood with its engine running, apparently ready to leave the lot through another missing section of fence leading to a back alley.
From where he was standing, Taniguchi had a clear longitudinal view of the right side of the vehicle. A seventh man in plain clothes and a ball cap laid unconscious, his head resting awkwardly on the steering wheel. One of its rear doors hanging precariously from just one hinge and Taniguchi decided to investigate.
He tried to peek into the interior and immediately regretted it. A pungent smell, a disgusting mix of sweat, vomit and urine leaked from the cargo space and only the strident noise prevented Taniguchi from covering his nose and mouth with his hands. He turned around, took a deep breath, held it and tried again.
The interior of the van looked like something prepared for a thriller or even a horror movie. Two sets of restraining implements had been laid out on the floor to each side of the cargo space. Shackles, handcuffs, chains and other items that Taniguchi couldn’t identify had been either weld to the metal floor or held onto it by metal rings attached to it.
The arrangement suggested that two people were supposed to be bound in a supine position on the floor, lengthwise with their upper-body pointing to the front of the van and their hands cuffed well above their heads. Taniguchi also noticed smears of dried blood and other stinking spots staining the interior of the van.
Some particularly analytical part of his mind zeroed in on the obvious differences between both set of restrains. The one to the left appeared to be intact, but the one to the right seemed to be missing pieces.
Taniguchi focused on a short and sturdy-looking length of chain that connected the floor of the van to nothing in particular. Pieces of matching links could be found laying around and he peered closely to one of them and making sure of not touching anything.
The metal loop had been cut clean into two and, if his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, he observed a burning halo surrounding the circular cross-sections of the link.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his arm and Taniguchi swore and swung his school bag at whoever touched him in reflex. Removing his hand from his head sent the discordant noise of car alarms through his ear and the resulting moment of disorientation prevented him from following-up with his attack.
Kunikida fell down, sitting on the gravel, and held his bag defensively over his head. Once he made sure that the taller boy recognized him, he rose to his feet and pantomimed something that Taniguchi couldn’t make too much sense of. Kunikida then took his arm again and lead his friend a few steps away from the van and pointed in direction to the back alley.
Nine or ten meters in front of them stood a woman who kept impassive surveillance over the prone bodies, holding her small semiautomatic in a two-handed grip with her right index finger away from the trigger. Her commanding bearing and unperturbed demeanor made Taniguchi think of an uncompromising character, a by-the-book detective or strait-laced SP right out of a police drama.
Taniguchi threw a questioning stare at Kunikida and arched an eyebrow. The latter nodded and encouraged him to approach her, then he picked up the discarded school bags and hurried to do the same.
As they walked towards her, Taniguchi took in more of her appearance and other features. She looked about thirty years old, hair cut professionally short, but he guessed that she could still pass for someone a lot younger with the right makeup and clothes. She was tall for a woman, just two or three inches shorter than himself, she was dressed in a brown pantsuit set with matching comfortable shoes.
Once they were a few steps away from her, she holstered her weapon, turned around and wordlessly beckoned them to follow her through the back alley. Kunikida immediately obeyed and Taniguchi had to struggle to keep with her brisk pace while holding his hands against his ears. Only then he noticed that Kunikida and the woman didn’t seem to be nearly as affected as him by the noise.
She led them to a street, turned west and kept walking. Her eyes swiftly jumped from one store sign to the next until she found one of her liking and all but darted down a flight of stairs.
Taniguchi glanced at the numerous flyers glued to the walls at both sides of the stairs and realized that they were heading to a karaoke place, albeit one quite a lot shoddier than the kind Yanagimoto and Sakanaka like to visit.
Kunikida stepped beside him and removed a pair of plugs from his ears. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Where did you get those?” Taniguchi asked instead.
“I used them when I want to study during breaks.”
The still unnamed woman remover her own pair of earplugs, opened a door ajar and peered inside, one hand on her holster under her left arm.
“Blasphemy and heresy,” Taniguchi quipped without any real humor in his voice. He pointed ahead with his thumb and said, “Who’s the—?”
“After me,” she instructed and ambled through the door. Kunikida complied and Taniguchi followed after them.
The sudden transition from the outside to the poorly illuminated interior left Taniguchi squinting at his surroundings. By the time he could make any details, the woman was paying a young man with a shaved head and piercings behind the counter.
The man gave an obvious once-over to the woman and then to both teens. Taniguchi could just see the incipient cues of a dirty joke on his face.
“Babysitting, that’s—” he begun but his words died in his throat after one glance at her face. “Sorry, ma’am. Room number two, right next to the soda machine to the left.”
The woman walked into the store and quickly found the indicated room. She went through same routine to check the door as before, and then motioned them to enter. After they did, she closed after her, ignored the couches and stood with her back against a wall in a position that gave her a good view of the door.
“Who the hell are you?” Taniguchi demanded, already tired of following someone else’s instructions without any explanation.
Kunikida winced. “Taniguchi, don’t. She’s—”
“Akasaka Miyuki, National Police Agency, Organized Crime Division,” she cut in smoothly and produced a badge wallet and handed it over to Taniguchi. “Kunikida-san, Taniguchi-san. Please refrain from making questions and pay attention to everything I’m going to say for the next few minutes. Is that alright with you?”
Taniguchi was about to retort something rash, but Kunikida fixed him with a stare and shook his head. The taller boy bit back his words and nodded.
“First, as minors and without a properly issued subpoena, you’re not in any obligation to answer any questions or even remain in this room if you don’t wish to. You can leave whenever you want and I can’t and won’t do anything to stop you. Is that clear?”
Taniguchi and Kunikida said nothing.
“Second, I’m not in liberty to divulge any information about any ongoing investigation. However, time-critical circumstances demanded extraordinary measures and that’s the reason I approached you two, today.
“As I said before, you can leave this room at any time, but if you decide against doing so, you might provide crucial information leading to the resolution of an open criminal case. Do you wish to stay?”
Kunikida waited for his friend answer. Taniguchi was at a loss. On one hand, he wanted to help the police. On the other hand, after what he saw in the last twenty minutes, he couldn’t be sure that Kyon wasn’t actively hiding from the law.
On the gripping hand, lack of knowledge is lack of power and the NPA agent knew something they didn’t.
Taniguchi nodded. Kunikida did the same after a moment.
“Right,” Miyuki said. “the young man under the alias of ‘Kyon’ is a… person of interest in a current investigation. It’s of utmost importance for the NPA and particularly myself to locate him before everyone else. That’s why I want to ask you two to contact him for me right now.”
“That’s it?” Taniguchi asked incredulous. “You aren’t going to tell us what the hell is going on?”
“As I said,” Miyuki said warningly. “I’m not in liberty to speak—”
“It won’t connect,” Kunikida purposely interrupted, lowering his cell phone from his ear. “It rings once and then goes straight to voice mail. I could try again but…”
“He blocked your number,” Miyuki guessed.
“That or I only have his old number. I think he changed phones this year and I usually just mail him, which is probably why I didn’t notice until now.”
Taniguchi blinked. He couldn’t be completely sure about it, but the other boy was, as a rule, way too meticulous to overlook something like that. For example, he knew for a fact that Kunikida keeps a paper back-up of his list of contacts just in case his phone goes missing, stolen or breaks down.
Kunikida was planning something. Taniguchi was willing to bet yen to Monopoly money on it.
“Taniguchi, could you try, too?” he requested in a little too insisting tone.
The taller boy pressed his lips into a flat line. “Fine,” he spatted and pulled out his phone. “Same thing,” he said truthfully after a moment.
Miyuki seemed to consider her options. “I apologize for the inconvenience,” she said. “I paid the room fee for the hour. I recommend for you two to remain here for that time and then go straight home. Thanks for your cooperation. Good-bye,” she bowed her head a fraction of an angle and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Kunikida cut in. “What if we could contact Kyon, if given the time to do it?”
Miyuki looked down at him over her shoulder and frowned.
“We are his friends,” Kunikida elaborated, “we hang out with him during breaks, after school and over the Internet. And we also know his other friends and we have common acquaintances with his fiancée. If we put our mind—”
“Tsuruya Haruka can not be carelessly informed about today’s incident,” Miyuki snapped back. She didn’t raise her voice, but the intensity she put in her words forced both boys take a step away from the woman.
“W-What…?” Kunikida stuttered. Whatever his plan, such a strong reaction wasn’t part of it.
“Dammit,” Miyuki cursed and turned around to face them both. “You must listen to me very carefully. This is not a game. One false step and a lot of people will be hurt. You don’t know—”
“That’s the problem!” Taniguchi snarled back at her, anger pushing caution out of his thoughts. “We don’t!”
“Please, Akasaka-san,” Kunikida pleaded before either Miyuki or Taniguchi could say anything else. “We just learned that our friend is hiding what obviously are dangerous secrets from us. Simply put, if you don’t give us at least an idea, an inkling of what is really going on, we’re bound—either by act or omission—to make a crucial mistake. Please,” he bowed deeply to her.
Tense silence permeated the room. The until-then unnoticed karaoke machine mutedly played some cheery and jarringly inappropriate pop song about a first love. Taniguchi ground his teeth and clenched his fists.
“Please,” he said. “Kyon, he’s our guy. Our friend. If he got into trouble, I want to help him. If it’s his own damn fault, I want to beat some sense into the fool and then help him. But…, if I know nothing, I can do nothing. Please, help me to change that.”
Miyuki studied them, her expression betraying nothing. After a while that seemed a lot longer than it actually was, she glanced at the clock on the wall and then turned at Taniguchi and Kunikida.
“Very well,” Miyuki allowed. “But first, you must understand this: you two are better off not knowing. Don’t get further involved with Kyon and his people and you’ll be fine. Safe. Believe me when I tell you that you don’t have any idea how precious that word really is. I can see on your faces that life didn’t give you the frame of reference to understand this and that’s a good thing.”
Miyuki let her words sink for a moment. “Time is short and I can only give you thirty seconds to make up your minds. Don’t let your own words bind you, you don’t have anything to prove. Now, are you sure you really want to know?”
Do they?
Both young men fell into thoughtful silence.
Taniguchi wanted to spat his affirmative, but caution and something else stopped him. He wanted to help his friend, he really did, but what difference would he make in this situation? Seriously, guys with guns in broad daylight in Japan? How did Kyon’s life come to that? he wondered.
There were signs, though. Taniguchi couldn’t forget when someone guy challenged Kyon in front of the whole school and he just ran out of class to face him. He also remembered that time in May when Kyon got a note from the doctor excusing him from P.E. for two weeks and the rumors saying that it had something to do with the news reports of a high school student getting shot outside a movie theater.
“Please continue, Akasaka-san,” Kunikida spoke first to Taniguchi’s surprise. “I’ll take responsibility for my own decisions.”
Miyuki nodded and turned to Taniguchi with an expression that some part of his brain translated to ‘Man Up or Get Out’. A small pang of wounded pride tilted his mental scales slightly into a course of action. “Yeah, no time to lose, remember?” he seconded and crossed his arms.
The NPA agent shook her head and sighed, mostly to herself, “That guy sure knows how to pick them.” Then she looked straight at Taniguchi and Kunikida and said, “Okay, listen up…”
They did.
That was the real start.
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