21: Necessary Distractions
Kotomi
Nothing.
It's 10:00 at night now. I've been puzzling over everything that was said at the lab, but I can't find a conceivable connection between them.
Not to mention how dubious Ishihara-san's story is . . . Once lies factor into my calculations, there's just no hope.
My guardian had other work to take care of, but he aided me at first. After his initial reluctance, he was finally able to acknowledge that this mysterious atmosphere bears further investigation. There were times I wondered if he would ever open his eyes to the danger right at our doorstep, but it seems I underestimated him.
Tomoya might like to know about these development, too . . . Maybe I should give him a ring.
I open the door and jog downstairs to the living room. Punching in his phone number, I wait patiently.
Six rings pass and nothing. Before I can hang up, a raspy, weary voice comes out of the receiver.
"H-hello?"
It's his Dad.
I bring the phone up to my ear. "Good evening, Okazaki-san. This is Ichinose Kotomi, calling for your son, Tomoya. Is he available right now?" Darn, I sound too formal.
"I-I'm afraid Tomoya's not here right now." He says sheepishly. "He had a rather . . . strange nightmare and bolted out of the house."
What? I clenched my hold on the phone tighter. "Do you know where he went?"
"I . . . I wish I knew. He's been all over town before, I, I have no idea where he could be."
"He's your son," I retort, teeth clenched. "Shouldn't you know?!"
"We haven't been close in a long, long time. I don't usually leave the house and . . . Oh, there's no excuse for it. He's gone, and he won't come back until he feels like it."
I slam the phone on its hook.
No . . . He's coming back, whether he likes it or not.
Postea
"'Furukawa Bakery'?"
My guardian repeated, his right hand's grip on the steering wheel growing ever tighter. "Why would he be there?"
"He visits when he's in a bad mood." I nod to myself. "Even if he's already done, it should give us a lead to where he is now."
"If you're sure,"
The short ride there is tense. After seeing what Tomoya was like the last time he got so upset, I can't let him get away from me again.
No matter what.
He swerves to a stop once we reach the side walk bordering the bakery. He agreed to wait in the car while I asked Furukawa Akio where he ran off to.
I push open the door and approach the eccentric man behind the counter. Normally, his expressions are fierce and snarly, but today, he looks grim.
I knew it . . . He has been here.
"You're looking for Okazaki, aren't ya?"
As I bite my lip, he puts a pile of change back in the cash register.
"I understand you're worried about em; frankly, I'm worried what kind of crap that kid's getting up too. But I don't know if seeing you would change his mind."
I frown. "What do you mean?"
"Kid's struggling to what to make of his Dad. 'Guy's been kinda abusive in the past, and he's more than a little chaotic today. It's probably that drinking problem. After all, not everyone can hold their liquor as well as me."
Realizing the joke is in poor taste, he sighs. "'Fact is, I think he needs some time to thin alone. Seeing you won't make his decision any easier."
"That might be true for most people, but I can help him. He's my best friend, and I know I can be there for him at this point."
"You know better than I do, kid," he drops his baseball bat on the ground. "Tomoya may act all cheek 'round his friends, but he ain't no extrovert. Personal stuff like this, it might be better if you let him be."
I hang my head. "I'm surprised you're taking his side here."
"You didn't see his face or hear the way he spoke," he put his hands on his hips. "It's your life, you can do whatever you want. Who knows, maybe talking to you will change his mind. But I wouldn't suggest it."
"Where did he go?"
My quick response surprises him. Admittedly, I'm shocked I haven't lost a shred of my resolve. "I think he's hanging out at the park near the little school downtown. It's not far, so if you need an escort, I can take you there."
"That's alright; I have a ride."
Before leaving, I drop 300 yen coins on his counter.
"For the information,"
Akio just smiles.
Postea
"Kotomi?"
My guardian grabs my shoulder. "Give him space; I don't know how willing he'll be to talk."
"I know," I say curtly.
Once again, I close the car door behind me and walk to the center of the park. A streetlight on the perimeter of the park is the only thing that illuminates my approach.
At the center of the park, blood dripping from his arm, stands Tomoya.
"Why . . ." He mutters. "Why are you here?"