Chapter 12

The Answer

They had a meeting area set in advance, and it was doing Iori no good simply sitting around. Directly ahead of her, against the wall she was currently leaning, was the cashier. His message said to follow this path around the corner. Following his words, on her way she passed another waitress in one of those skimpy outfits. For a moment she pondered wearing one of those herself, and now it didn't seem like a bad idea. Maybe she could wear one of those feathery outfits and even do those high kicks, but certainly she wasn't old enough to be in one of those shows. Regardless, it might be fun. One of these days.

Turning the corner, it isn't long before she finds a seating area. There are many hotel guests lounged about on their laptops. Jordan sticks out like a sore thumb.

Before in quiet solace, he immediately perks up upon seeing Iori. He stands and waves her over.

"For a second I thought you would have stuck with that Noah chick."

By calling someone "chick" it was clear he had very little respect towards the woman. Certainly Iori would be discovering why in due process.

"What, were you worried I'd leave you alone? It's so obvious the melancholy you'd be in without me."

He takes no offense to her teasing, and in fact, makes no rebuttal. By simply looking at her and smiling, Jordan's basically acknowledging her accusations. Iori suddenly realizes what's being implied and blushes furiously. Maybe the only time a man had looked at her like that was on the day she was born, but she'd never know the expression her father might have made when he saw his daughter for the very first time.

"Now," Jordan's words are powerful enough to break apart an iceberg, "let's find you your friends."

In the wait time for his computer to start up, Jordan handed Iori 20 dollars and told her to get them something to eat. This small lounge is adjoined by a coffee and confectionary stand. Though he never told her what to order for himself, upon spying some of the pastries she chooses with near-certainty what she believes were his favorites.

By the time everything's bought and paid for, Jordan's already on the internet. Well past lunch and encroaching dinner, this was only going to be a light snack to hold them over. And with how certain Jordan was of himself (and Iori was certain as well) they'd soon be on the move towards their final destination. All they need is a bit more fuel for their final leg.

Iori sat a blueberry muffin and a bottle of cranberry juice on the table before them. For a moment Jordan had to stop his furious typing to notice her choice. All he did next was look over to her and extort a halfhearted laugh.

"Nihihihi~" she returned the favor for him being oh-so-honest a moment ago. "How did you know Noah already knew where my concert is?"

As he's browsing through web pages, "Well, first was her thick sense of superiority. That look she was giving me, it was 'I'm better than you.' At first I thought she was just being uppity, but then I remembered Colonel Shazier. He said that a few of his guys would like to see your concert, but he didn't ask where it was or show any concern that you didn't know yourself. Noah must have already told him, seeing that she already knew that a lot of Marines get stationed in Japan. It'd be no surprise if you have a few fans amongst their ranks, so she was being a good little hostess and informing them of events that they'd enjoy."

That might have been the nagging feeling she had earlier. Though it doesn't explain why she would drag things out and lie to them.

"Actually, it's not very difficult to image. Noah's an Event Coordinator. Now, how does one get clients to come to them in that line of work? The answer is they don't, potential clients will go wherever they want to go. It's the casinos themselves that determine favorablity over the others. It would be near-impossible to change someone's mind considering they're deciding almost completely by their personal tastes. Like trying to sell an orange to someone who wants an apple. All she can really do is sit and wait for clients to come to her.

"However, what she can do is network. Let people learn her name and how good she works. A good reputation is perhaps the best advertisement you can get. Also, having people owe you favors. Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. Something I noticed when we met her, she addressed you as 'Minase Iori.' Don't you address yourself as Iori Minase?"

Iori explained, "Minase is my family name. In Japan it's customary to introduce yourself with your family name first."

"I thought so. Now, she formally addressed you, but she didn't even say my last name. Don't you think that's odd? Also, didn't she seem overly interested in learning about your family?"

"My family?" Of course Iori knew how influential her family could be, but how could Noah know...and then she finally put everything together. "She knew me!"

"Exactly! She knew about the concert, knew about you, and knew about your family all before we met her. She was dragging this thing out so your father's company would owe her a favor. She was trying to extort you into increasing her own business!"

Iori wanted to say that anger welled up from inside of her, but it simply didn't. More than a time or two had she ran into somebody who wanted to befriend her in order to exploit her family's wealth. This time however, no emotions really sprouted forth. It was like she didn't care.

Regardless, that didn't change the fact that Noah had the answer while they are still in the dark. Jordan was working on his computer, but Iori couldn't see what he was doing. The man was sitting in a large sofa seat with wide armrests. Placing herself on one of those armrests, she sat down close and placed her hand on his shoulder so she could lean in and see.

"Take a look at this," Jordan cycled the widow back to a previously opened tab. It was a Wanted notice for a Japanese-English interpreter. It was signed K. Otonashi. "Look familiar?"

Eyes gone wide, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "This is it! This is it this is it this is it! We can ask her!"

"Hold on a second," he stopped her. "Didn't you notice? Look at the grammar."

Now that he mentioned it, it was bad.

"I don't think she knows English, or at least as well as she thinks she does. If I send her an e-mail she might need to have it translated, write a response, and have it translated back. That could take a couple of hours."

Iori knew that Otonashi loved The Blues and Jazz music, and that she listened to the genre in English, but she may not speak a word of it herself. It wasn't impossible.

"But shouldn't we send one anyway?"

"If we need to. That's Plan B. Plan A is still to find it ourselves. Now, look at these." He begins cycling through pictures. "Do you recognize any of these people?"

All were men in women elder in age. Clean cut and in nice suits. But Iori had to shake her head and every picture they cycled through. At the end there wasn't a single confirmation.

"What gives?" Jordan said. "That was every Japanese interpreter I could find."

Iori hung her head. In the end they'd have to contact Otonashi and wait for her to give them a reply. But how long would that take? Iori was starting to understand Jordan's reluctance to call upon others for the answer. It felt like she was being defeated.

But every profile Jordan showed was of an older person. Their interpreter was a young guy, probably not even 20. All those people were easily over 30 or older. How did his and Otonashi's searches differ?

Then she noticed something on the last remaining profile, "Hold on! What's that!"

"Hmm?" Jordan looked. "'Education: UNLV?' The University of Nevada Las Vegas."

"He was wearing a sweater with those letters on them."

Jordan hmph'ed, "So he was a UNLV student." For a moment he sat in silence, but then suddenly started up, "No! He's stilla UNLV student!"

Back at the search engine, his fingers blurred at the speed of light, furiously typing away keywords. Iori was amazed. She knew Ritsuko and Otonashi were fast typers, but Jordan would have blown them away. This must have been the same speed he typed that secret text into his phone. In little time he'd opened several pages under new tabs.

"Anyone?"

Now instead of a picture of a single person, he brought up pictures of groups of people. On the third image,

"That's him!"

Jordan scrolled down a little bit, "Richie Young?"

The name was immediately familiar, "Yes!"

Before he turned away to a new page, Iori spotted the website they were currently visiting. The Anime Club of UNLV.

Next up were the social networking sites. In no-time-flat his personal page was retrieved. His last status update, from 2 days ago, told them everything in big bold letter.

Iori almost couldn't breathe, "Is that it?" came out in a mumbled whisper.

Cycling away, Jordan brought up another page, the page of the aforementioned casino and hotel. After clicking "Entertainment," then "Concerts," and scrolling down the page...

There it was.

Ryuuguu Komachi.

Iori dead center. Ami to her left. Azusa to her right. They were doing their pose at the end of Smokey Thrill.

Suddenly her vision blurred and she was forced to blink. Feeling the cold sensation roll down her face, Iori then knew that she had started to cry. What would have normally been her characteristically strong defense never had a chance. There was no brushing it off, pretending it didn't happen, or trying to explain it was something that it wasn't. She couldn't create an excuse. Openly she was crying, slight sobs escaping whenever she was trying to breath. For only a brief moment did she manage to open her eyes. She met Jordan's stare. What kind of expression he was making, if he had his signature quaint little smile, she couldn't tell. One look sent a wave of emotion washing over her. She lunged over the chair and embraced him tightly, crying tears of joy onto his shoulder. How he responded? Iori only felt his large soft hand rest itself on the top of her head. He said nothing. Motioned nothing. Simply sat and waited for her to finish. He was kind of like a lame duck.

In time she recovered, using the napkins he presented to her to dry her eyes. When she was well enough to see, she saw that at some point he'd eaten his muffin. Iori couldn't help but laugh. A young, beautiful girl was crying on his shoulder, and here he was eating. She wished she could have stepped outside herself and seen it, but the image in her head was as clear as day. It made her laugh again.

"Well then," he said, closing up his laptop. "Shall we go?"

With her voice as clear as it's ever been, she said, "Yes!"

And finally, we have made it to this point. As I post this, I've already finished chapter 13, and I must say, I'm going too darn fast. I don't know what's been up with me lately, but I've been on a roll. If this keeps up, I'm just going to keep flooding you with chapters until I burn myself out or I finish with this story. Whatever the case, we're not done yet so expect more to come.

~Kyle Castorena