Keisuke sat staring at the brown envelope on the desk in front of him. It was addressed to him, and had come from the private investigator he'd hired to track his father down. The man, it seemed, was a pro. He hadn't realized he'd get results so quickly, and wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with what was inside that innocuous looking envelope.
The phone rang…and rang…and rang. Eventually, the answering machine kicked in with a series of high pitched electronic beeps. No message…it was just like him, Keisuke thought.
"Shingo, it's me, Keisuke. I know you don't want to talk to me, but…there's something I need from you. You said once that you'd do anything for me. I don't know if that's still true or not, but, well, it's about my father. Can you call me, when you get this-"
A loud click interrupted him.
"Hello? Shingo?"
"Yeah," came the solemn reply.
"You were there the whole time?"
There was a pause, and then, "What do you want, Keisuke?"
He sighed. "I hired an investigator to find my father, like you suggested. I got the results back today. He's dead, Shingo. The bastard's dead, and I never even got to…to say…"
"Shit. I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Anyway, I was wondering, can you come with me, to the grave? You're the only other person I know who knew him. I feel like you should be there."
There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, ""When do you want to go?"