Chapter 5 – Unavoided Traps
It had only taken a few seconds for him to know that he was not going to get anywhere. The strength of her power changed things, made them faint, uncertain. "I'm sorry. I cannot see anything."
Himura was quite for a few moments. She stared at her hands as they rested in her lap. In a voice barely audible she said, "What if it's all true? Tsukiko was only playing on the swings – nothing else – and that woman I told you about, she picked her out. She knew. Just looking and she knew. When someone can do things like that… When someone like that has a warning, you listen."
Kakei could not tell her what she wanted to hear – that there were not people out there set on gathering children with special abilities. He already knew of one boy who was wanted. A boy he knew he would one day shelter. A boy he had arranged his life so that he could protect. That boy and those dear to him. And even though that was still a ways off, events were already beginning to pull together. Saiga was here. He was another one that could benefit from his store.
"I might be able to see something through someone else close to her. Maybe if I could read Rikuou-kun…" It was not pure good intention that led him to offer. He was known for being somewhat devious and the reputation was not completely unfounded. He needed to learn everything he could about this group - who they were, what their ultimate goal was. The information might prove critical in the future. He might have the ability to see the future, but that did not mean he knew everything.
Himura perked up slightly, glad for the distraction. "Ah, he's at his club right now."
"He plays soccer and he's really good, too!" Tsukiko jumped in to brag.
"Is that so?"
"Uh-huh! I get to watch his games sometimes and he always scores the most points."
"Tsukiko, that's not very polite," The girl's mother chided gently before returning her attention to Kakei, content that her daughter looked suitably embarrassed. "He doesn't really have time with that and school work to make it over here on a weekday. I'll stop him by Saturday afternoon."
It was as his guests were leaving that Kakei had a flash. It was nothing new – he'd had the same vision for the first time more than ten years ago – but the time was drawing closer. Just a few years more and the Himura children would be on their own.
If Saiga hadn't been so preoccupied with his thoughts, he would have heard the soft pattering of small feet fleeing the hall as he stepped out of his room. He could always contact the old woman and cancel their agreement. The next step after location was bound to be retrieval and Saiga had little desire to be responsible for a robbery on Kakei's store. He was fairly certain that wasn't the kind of behavior the pharmacy owner would appreciate out of a potential lover. Perhaps he lacked the proper degree of professionalism, but his personal life was more important that a job. Or maybe it was just the excuse he'd been looking for to quit while he was ahead. He'd already learned all he needed to know from his client. He could wash his hands of this business and move on before he found out what it was that made Oohara so nervous. He'd seen the local post office on his way to the restaurant earlier; he could stop there and send out the note.
The hall was quiet as he headed toward the main exit, so when he hear voices, not necessary loud, but not unusually hushed either, his ears picked up the sounds with little effort. The inflections indicated some sort of argument. He should have taken the hint and headed back the way he came. He could have left though the window in his room if nothing else.
Since he didn't, he was able to catch the last bits of the conversation, "…pen to them without you? Don't start getting any ideas, sensei," before rounding a corner to find his client in the company of a somewhat short man with an average build. The middle-aged man had close-cropped hair and wore a dark brown suit with no tie to compliment his serious demeanor. What Saiga guessed was a perpetual sneer marred what might have been reasonably attractive features had the man been a decade to two younger. This was just the kind of trouble he had been working hard to avoid.
"Oohara-san," he began as smoothly as though he had not just interrupted an argument he was not meant to hear, as though he had expected to find her here and had no disapproval for the now obvious fact that he had been followed from the moment he left his meeting that afternoon. He began and stopped, pointedly looking at the man standing in front of his client. The man remained where he was, unwilling to take the cue to leave.
Oohara took a quick glace between the two of them – the same mannerisms from their earlier meeting only more pronounced. "Saiga-san…. Please. If you have something to say… You can go ahead. This is—"
Here the man spoke up in a hurry. "I'm her nephew." And Saiga noticed something then as the man gestured to himself. The glint of familiar metal. The same brand and style of watch that adorned Saiga's wrist rested on this man's as well. It lacked the delicate engravings that Saiga's had but still… too many coincidences. The huge smile the man plastered across his face made him look slimy – like a tonic salesman trying to pass sewage off as rosewater. Saiga was prepared to automatically assume that anything coming out of his mouth was going to be a lie. This man settled things. Something clicked in Saiga's mind, the decision was made and there would be no going back. If Oohara was helping men like this, there was nothing he could do for her.
"I'm sorry, Oohara-san," he made a point to look only at the woman. "I'm not going to be able to help you." That was all there was to it. He apologized for raising her hopes, and shifted his weight in preparation to take a step in the direction of the exit.
The salesman spoke up again. "Just a minute, Saiga-san." He stressed the honorific as though he was being extraordinarily kind in giving out common courtesy. "I have been told you are the best there is in this business. If… my aunt's keepsake were anywhere in Japan, they said, you would be able to find it. And here you are giving up so easily? You cannot even find a worthless piece of rock!" The man was a poor actor. He didn't even bother to hide the scorn in his voice at the description of the item.
It seemed the truth of the matter was slowly revealing itself – who the true client was, what exactly they were looking for, not the accessory itself, that was clear enough by now. The man's condescending tone marked him as someone to be handled carefully, but Saiga wasn't going to be goaded into helping this rat. There were still pieces missing but, no matter what the reason for Kakei to have the obi-dome, Saiga had absolutely no desire to lead sleazy men like the one standing in front of him to Green Drugstore. In fact, he had no desire to help a man like this regardless of who else was involved. "Maybe you should start looking outside the country then."
This time he did start to leave. He made it all the way to the door where a pair of heavily muscled men were waiting for him. They stood, unmoving, watching not Saiga, but their apparent leader – awaiting orders. Behind him, Slime Man cleared his throat. "I suggest you try again. You wouldn't want a black mark on such a clean professional record."
"More time isn't going to change anything." This was worse than getting rid of a bad date and probably a lot more risky. He would be better off if he could manage to be a bit more diplomatic, but the necessary patience for that failed him.
"I'll only ask this once more for you to reconsider." The man was an arrogant son of a bitch as well as a sleaze.
"I can't put it any more simply." It was a matter of principle as much as it was for his own safety that Saiga had made it a point to avoid men like this in the past. The kind that was willing to do anything to get what they want. The kind that would relish in the suffering of others if it brought them closer to their goal. It was these kinds of men, perhaps even these same exact men, that had been the cause of his mentor's "accident" and it was that accident that gained him his watch. A watch wasn't much good without a wrist to put it on.
"I think you're lying to me. I think you know exactly where it is." The man's voice reminded him of a snake slowly curling against its self, smooth and relaxed but still dangerous. Saiga finally turned from the door to face his accuser. "What do you think Koji-kun?" And for the first time, he noticed someone hiding in the corner shadows. Had he been there before? "Do you think he is lying?"
The young man, barely an adult really, took only a moment to study him before he began to nod his head – slowly at first and then with more vigor and for a longer amount of time than most people would consider necessary.
"Mmmm, I thought so. Saiga-san, it looks like we have ourselves a problem." Now he was a teacher administering a much-deserved reprimand.
Saiga was a strong man but he never had taken an interest in fighting. There were so many other, more pleasurable ways for a person to spend their time.
When the men at the door rushed him from behind, he managed to get in a few well-placed swings before being tackled to the ground. He was fairly sure he broke a finger or two giving one of the guards a black eye. It was a damn shame. He could think of a good number of things that hand would have been good for on his next date with Kakei.
The room Saiga found himself in was not like those he had been in at the ryokan. It might just be a different area, or it could be a different building all together. He was seated in a rather uncomfortable wooden chair with his legs spread apart and tied separately to the opposing front chair legs. The wrappings were tied above the horizontal supporting bar so it would be impossible to just tip the chair back and slide the bindings off. His hands, tied behind the chair back were laced together tightly enough that the chair dug into the flesh of his arms.
He shifted around as much as he could to get a look at the chair itself. It looked sturdy. Even if he tipped himself over completely, it was unlikely that the chair would break. He took to studying the room instead. An opportunity would come for him. He just had to be patient and vigilant. He'd been in worst situations before. That was what he told himself.
There were heavy curtains over the windows that made it impossible to determine the time of day and one of the light bulbs in the room was about to go out. The flicker-flicker off to his right was what first caught his attention. Next, it was the incessant hum associated with the dying bulb that started bothering him. He tried to ignore it – there were four other men in the room that were a much greater cause for concern. There was the leader, Oohara's "nephew"; the two guards from earlier, one complete with black eye – he afforded himself a small smile at that; and one new person.
The new man spoke first. "The Founder isn't going to be very happy about this. He's an outsider." Despite his words, he didn't sound worried. He was amused if anything.
"That old man is practically on his death bed. Besides, we're not going to kill him. Disposing of bodies is too much of a pain for a guy like this. He's no danger to us." And the man laughed. "He just needs to be punished a bit for his insubordination. Something to make him a bit more amenable to helping us, in case we need him in the future."
"It will be as you say then. This time tomorrow, he won't be able to see a thing." Yes, amused was a suitable word, but the longer he watched the man, the more Saiga thought "delighted" might be even more appropriate.
"I'm glad to be working with a man who enjoys his trade. Still, a whole day to take effect? We have better things to do then sit around waiting for your charm to start working."
"You could have hired that other guy – he'd be quicker about it – but good luck even finding him. I heard he has some pet project of his own." The man who had been speaking went to a small leather bag lying on the floor and pulled out a cloth covered roll and a small bottle. There was no telling what was in either until he unrolled the parcel and retrieved what looked like a scalpel from across the room. The bottle, he shook as you would a pot of ink, though from what Saiga could tell, the container looked empty. "Oh, look. He's awake already. Gentlemen," he addressed the two grunts, "come hold him down. He'll ruin everything if he squirms about. Too much blood."
"Don't be foolish, Doctor. If it's that much of a problem, just knock him out first."
"I don't have the necessary drugs for that."
"I never said you had to be gentle about it." The leader reached a hand underneath his jacket before starting toward Saiga's spot along the wall, walking with large quick steps, walking with purpose. It would be Saiga's last memory of that room.
There was a solid thud from the next room over before all went silent. Etsuko adjusted her collars, though they were perfectly aligned already. She had brought that man here to find her sister and now he was her responsibility.
She had been careful. Only speaking briefly with each informant in public so as not to arouse suspicion. Sending out only written letters – not once did she make a phone call – on her regular schedule. One extra should not have been noticed. Special plans were made so that she could pay her bills without drawing notice. Yes, she had been careful, but they had still found out. They had carried out her worst fears before she could give her warnings.
The door slid open without notice. "Sensei? You need my help?"
There was no one left to call her by name anymore. She was only "sensei" or "obaa-san." The former was better. She didn't feel old, though she knew she was, and she had never married – not willing to make her mother's mistake – let alone had children of her own.
It was okay though. Narumi had never married either.
Without husbands, they had each worked to support themselves. Narumi had used her talent to earn her living from the start. Work would take her all over the county and sometimes to China or Korea as well. She had always been energetic like that. Despite all the travel on her sister's part, it never felt like they were truly separated. One letter every other week for each of them any time they were apart – which was more often the case than not. Phones – and recently, email – were all very well. Convenient to be sure, but not safe and they lacked the personal warmth a handwritten letter gave. A conversation decades long filled box upon box in her room back in Gifu. She had a sudden longing to re-read some of those letters. When tears began to well in her eyes, she decided that maybe it was best that she didn't have access to them at the moment.
Their topic of discussion had been increasingly dangerous the last few years and Narumi had thought that maybe they should be doing something more than ranting to each other. Their plan was nearly ready for execution when the letters stopped coming. Etsuko had told herself she was just being paranoid, that it wasn't unheard of for a letter to be delayed or even lost in the mail, that everything would turn out well.
She touched her obi, felt the small fabric wrapped treasure she now kept hidden beneath its layers. The two of them had been as much a pair as the set of obi-dome, the gifts that had been created for them before they were even born – carved with all the love left to the brokenhearted man who had cherished their mother. For Narumi to have given her treasure away, she must have known her time was coming.
Wherever the obi-dome was, she wished its new owner good fortune and safety. They would undoubtedly need it. Those men would stop at nothing to find anyone who may have information about their organization. They knew the importance the obi-dome held for the Oohara sisters. They knew one should have been recovered with Narumi. Maybe Narumi had given more away than just a trinket, they reasoned. Maybe she'd given information as well. It was a likely assumption, though Etsuko would never confirm that for them.
"Yes child. I need you to use your talent. You will have to be very careful. You will have to be very brave. Can you do this?"
"We're going to help the stranger, aren't we?"
"Yes." She picked at her mofuku again subconsciously. The kimono had been given to her as a warning. An unwritten message saying, 'Look what we did to your precious sister. Look what we will do to you.' She would wear the cursed thing just to spite them.
"Then we can finish our trip and be at the festival by tomorrow?"
There was no point in going anymore, everyone but the children knew the festival was a charade. "Yes."
"Brother was excited about this trip until he learned it would be with them. He never likes it when they come around at home. They make him nervous. I think he'll be happy if I help the stranger! I can be brave and I'll be extra careful."
This child and her brother, they were sweet children. They didn't deserve the fate they had been given – living in that big house with only each other for company, the only exceptions being for their lessons and the rare odd job off the property. If only she could have helped them more. If only she and her sister had been able to carry out their plan. If only Narumi were still alive.
