Chapter 1: Slow Ride

The taxi had always been a safe option for busy cities and towns. There was no time for Archie and Mugi to hire a car; not yet. The spirits of grief and the sadness merged with another dark spirit. The nine-hour time difference activated its ability to adjust their body clocks so that they would be vulnerable to a lack of sleep for a few days. Of course, Mugi knew this would happen from every plane journey she took in the past, whether it be to London, or to Helsinki. Therefore, they planned their arrival so that they could just relax on their first day, booking a taxi in advance for the beginning of their five-week hotel stay.

It seemed, at first, that booking a taxi from the station was worth it, as it cruised its way through an open road, decorated by a sunset painting on the horizon; an expansive field of rice on the left, and a humble conglomeration of traditional houses on the right. It didn't seem like those kind of outskirts back in Britain, where any force of nature could break the peace associated with Rural Japan…

Suddenly, Archie and Mugi woke up to two sharp bares of a siren. The driver pulled the taxi over and looked in the mirror to find two police cars. This was, indeed, a shocking sight; had the couple been caught for whatever crime they inadvertently committed during these five years, or was it just a mandatory safety check? That question would not go unanswered for long…

"Driver! Show us your hands!" the officer commanded through his megaphone. There had always been an unnerving force when the authorities arrived anywhere in Japan. That time was no exception; the driver, sweating with fear, promptly exited the taxi with both his arms flying a figurative white flag. He shook with embarrassment, as Archie and Mugi watched on with shock and interest in their eyes. If there was a temporary cure for jetlag, they were sure that they had just discovered it.

"Now down on your knees!" instructed the officer, as the humiliated driver felt his legs give up from all the shaking. He was on his knees, ready to accept his fate and take the final blade of justice, which came in the form of this instruction: "Now down to your stomach!"

Archie and Mugi felt they didn't need hotel entertainment now; they were tired, and even if they weren't, they had now seen everything. They just wanted to know what warranted the taxi to be pulled over. That, and to ask for a new taxi. As the officers prepared to handcuff the driver, state their cautions and enclose him in a Prisoner Transport vehicle, Archie nervously opened the door, slowly stepping out like a shy celebrity at an awards show. And as his wife did the same, he raised his hand.

"Is there anything wrong, Officer?" asked Archie in the best Japanese he could remember (much to his wife's scrutiny).

The officer in question was quite an imposing figure. His status was represented by the Navy fabric of his blazer, the golden buttons that showcased his power, and a white on black hat that radiated his knowledge about the sea of potential road hazards.

"Yes, sir," answered the officer, showcasing his golden Police Coat of Arms as if his looks hadn't said enough. "You two were about to become victims of a scam."

"Scam?" asked the couple in a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

"That's right. You have both unknowingly flagged an illegal taxi," the officer simply replied. "We have now arrested the driver, and that's why we stopped him."

Archie facepalmed in embarrassment. "I should have known," he silently muttered in English. In their jetlagged state, what Archie and Mugi couldn't have known was that the doors hadn't opened automatically, and the seat covers were not white as snow. It was their first day in Japan, and they had already been bamboozled. They were too tired to care whose fault it was, they just needed to get to the hotel, so they could rest for tomorrow's funeral.

"So, what happens now?" asked Mugi, hoping the Officer would help in a situation like this.

"I'll see what I can do, ma'am," the officer reassured her in a casual tone. 'Surely, that tone was unprofessional,' thought Mugi. Archie thought the same, but it didn't matter. As his colleagues drove the dishonoured driver away (alongside a map and his wallet for evidence), the officer got the OK to let the couple in his car for the rest of their journey, seeing as there were no proper taxis available in the area.

The journey continued for ten more minutes; the last twenty were halted when the taxi got pulled over. But the couple were now cruising again. It wasn't long before the rice fields were blocked by houses traditional and modern on both sides, and the officer decided to break the ice. Possibly to make up for interrupting the peace when he pulled the taxi over.

"So, what brings you two to Japan?" he asked out of curiosity. Mugi felt her eyes fill with tears again as she prepared to explain.

"I'm here to pay tribute to two of my friends," sniffed Mugi.

The Officer had showcased a sympathetic frown. "I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am," he lamented. "I guess I shouldn't have instructed that driver so loudly, if I had known how solemn you both were."

"No, it's fine," assured Archie in Japanese, stammering as he found his words. "You were, how do you say, doing your job." Mugi nodded as if to encourage him despite the circumstances.

Suddenly, the officer noticed Mugi holding a picture. On it were two familiar faces. One, a cheery looking figure with a short brown bowl cut, holding a Gibson Les Paul Standard. The other, a long, black-haired professional with a slightly smaller stature than her counterpart, holding her red Fender Mustang. Mugi teared up at the picture as she looked at it, but the officer was quick to notice those two musicians as he stopped at a red light.

"I'm sorry, I can't help but notice this picture you're holding," enthused the officer.

"Those were our friends at a concert," Mugi responded, her voice shaking a little from sadness as she sniffed. The officer examined the picture, and his eyes lit up as if he just discovered a piece of treasure.

"I know those two," exclaimed the officer. "They were the popular rock duo that got shot up by an unknown assassin during a Live House gig in Kyoto. Yui and Azusa. Fine musicians, may I add?"

"Yeah, they were," said Archie in Japanese, with a disheartened tone. "In fact, we'll be attending their funeral tomorrow. We can't believe this happened to them, right dear?" Mugi sniffed as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry," said the officer, knowing he sounded unprofessional when he deducted the picture, which he had given back to Mugi as a green light shone upon the road. "Forgive my rudeness. We were recently arresting many criminals, day after day. They were mostly Yakuza mobsters. What happened at that Live House could be yet another example of an ambush."

"Ambush?" enquired Mugi, her tear-filled eyes now mixed with intrigue. "Are you saying it was the Yakuza's doing?"

"Don't worry honey, I'm sure it's just a rumour," assured Archie in English. "The cops will definitely find out who killed our friends sometime soon." Mugi translated that reassurance in order for the officer to understand.

"Indeed, we will," the officer agreed. "But remember this: given the number of mobsters we have had to arrest; the rumour holds some water."

"What do you mean?" asked Archie in Japanese. Both he and Mugi needed clarity on that vague statement.

"When they want you, they will find you," the officer warned menacingly, like he was reciting a campfire ghost story to scared children. "In the meantime," he advised, "please keep yourself safe. And please, do use any legitimate means of transportation where necessary."

Mugi had never felt so scared in her entire life. Not even during her five years in Britain. But she was strong. No way would she let a police officer get to her skin with scary rumours.

It wasn't long before the police car reached the hotel, with the Kanji sign naming it "Wakaba," or the "Fresh Leaf Hotel." It was a four-storey hotel, with frosted glass windows protecting the privacy of other patrons. It mixed traditional Japanese design with modern construction techniques. It was a bit stately for the couple's tastes, but at least it was less cumbersome than those capsule hotels they had considered. Plus, the garden atmosphere would hopefully calm them down; they definitely needed that after the ghost story the officer scared them with.

"There we are," Mugi remarked. All they needed to do now was unload the bags, thank the officer, check in, and prepare themselves for a good night's rest.

The bedroom, much like the building, mixed ancient tradition with modern technology. The smooth bedding merged well with the streamlined headrest. Opposite the bed, the table was laden with a tea set. As Mugi served tea for her and her husband, she teared up at the reminder of all the memories she had. It was as if that particular tea set just got delivered from her high school after ten years. Archie had noticed this and decided to reminisce with her.

"You miss these days, eh dear?" asked Archie sympathetically in English. Mugi nodded as she handed a cup to him. "You must have been proud to have been serving your friends all those treats you told me about."

"Well, that was a long time ago," Mugi remarked in the same language. She recalled the moments where Yui wouldn't play guitar without cake; the moments where Yui shared cake with the others; the moments where Azusa got surprise-hugged by Yui; and the moments where the two looked at each other during a performance. Archie could see that his wife was on the verge of a breakdown, and he knew it reminded him of losing his friends when he moved from one school to another.

"I kinda feel the same way, Mugi," assured Archie comfortably. "All those memories of the childhood we used to have in school. We all wish we had them back."

"I see what you mean," Mugi agreed tearfully. "At least you could cherish them knowing they are still alive."

"Indeed," Archie nodded. "I know it sounds cheesy when you put it this way, but for every person we lose, one spirit lives on."

Mugi giggled a little, but there was no need to cheer each other up at that time. The philosophy was indeed cheesy. But for them, if it meant knowing Yui and Azusa were still there in spirit, then it must be true.

Archie teared up a little too. "I've never talked to them too much and I'm missing them already," he lamented. "How come this had to happen?"

"I know," cried Mugi. And that's when they consoled each other; if Mugi was going to cry, then Archie would cry with her. And vice versa in some cases. That's how they went about their moments of sorrow.

It wasn't long before all the tears had run out, and the couple got dressed up to rest. They would be ready to continue their grieving at the funeral the next day…