Arriving early on a rainy September morning, the team had little chance to take in the scenery. Expedited through customs, they were ushered through a series of fluorescent-lit rooms in the heart of Narita airport, past workers and officials who eyed their jet-lagged faces with curiosity. Finally they emerged through a somewhat dingy backdoor where two long black cars with tinted windows waited.
A man in a cream-colored suit stepped forward.
The briefing had contained two salient facts about Captain Hajime Sasaki; that he had studied psychology at Oxford before returning to Japan, and that at thirty-six years old, he was the youngest man ever to hold the post of Chief of Tokyo Metropolitan Police. He looked younger. His hair was combed smartly back and he wore a pair of frameless spectacles so stylish they could have been vanity glasses. He looked friendly and a bit sheepish.
There was a moment of confusion as Hotch, holding out a business card with both hands, gave a deep bow, while Sasaki leaned back and extended one hand. They reversed the procedure with about as much success. Finally, both chuckling, they shook hands and Sasaki took Hotch's card, digging in one pocket for his own. "Sorry, I didn't know we were doing that…" He spoke crisp English without much of a British or Japanese accent. "Captain Sasaki, Tokyo Police. I presume Agent Hotchner?"
Hotch nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Captain. This is my team, agents Morgan, Rossi…"
"Ah, Agent Rossi, so good to meet you in person…"
"…Prentiss, Garcia, and Doctor Spencer Reid." As usual, he introduced Reid by his title, to give the reedy-looking young man an aura of legitimacy; but it escaped no one that Reid looked rather like Sasaki himself.
"Ah, Doctor Reid!" Sasaki stuck out his hand. "I read your paper on game theory with great interest."
Reid, turning pink, made a half-bow and muttered: "Y-yoroshiku onegaishimasu."
It came out in a girlish squeak. Laughter rose from the officers standing behind Sasaki, and he turned and glared. Garcia snorted.
"Yoroshiku," Sasaki returned seriously, then to Hotch: "Well, let's get moving. You must be exhausted; we'll drive you to your hotel where you can rest for a few hours."
Rossi, Prentiss and Garcia, all yawning, made for the forward car; Hotch and Morgan climbed into the rear with Captain Sasaki. Before joining them, Reid cast a look back over the airfield. It was still dark; lights blinked lonely across the horizon, and a greasy light rain was falling, falling. He shook his head.
"You okay?" Morgan whispered.
"Sure, it's nothing. I just like to get a first impression."
He lowered himself into the rear seat, next to Morgan and Sasaki. Hotch sat up front beside a silent and humorless-looking driver.
They had been driving less than a minute when Sasaki let out two huge sneezes. "Sorry, sorry," he buried his nose in a handkerchief, "it's this time of year, it plays hell with my sinuses.-Plays? Is this correct?"
"Is hell on my sinuses," Reid corrected unconsciously.
"Oh yes, of course. I'm out of practice..."
"Your English is very good," Morgan offered. "We're lucky our translator and liaison officer can be the same guy. How long were you at Oxford?"
"Four years, four years. But do you know…sorry to be so talkative, it's just, I am excited! Look, I'm not going to give you some stupid runaround about how your Western methods will never penetrate the Oriental psyche. But when I was studying psychology, it began to feel like…like a badly-fitting glove, do you know what I mean? It still conformed basically to the shape of the human hand. But it was uncomfortable."
Reid had begun to nod. Morgan looked somewhat baffled, but interested.
"We have our own profilers," Sasaki went on, "but we mostly use your tools. It's still a fledgling science. I hope to learn a lot from you."
"And us from you," Reid added politely.
Sasaki waved one hand. "Oh, don't give me that. Sometimes an exchange is one-sided. But perhaps, after all, there is something in your methods that won't work here. Then you would learn something. It remains to be seen."
"With all due respect, Captain, I think it would be literally impossible for me not to learn anything."
"Hmm…well, this is all going to sound very broad and stereotypical, but I think the main difference…the crucial difference is, Europeans are more optimistic about the possibility of understanding human behavior. To us, the mind is more like a dark pit, which anything might come out of…that's too artistic. I'm making a fool of myself. But you get my drift. Drift?"
Reid nodded.
"A dark pit," said Morgan. "I like that. I think I've seen a few of those pits."
"Exactly! You can approach to a point…but beyond that, perhaps…Doctor Reid, have you read Shusaku Endo? His Foreign Studies? About the Japanese scholar studying the Marquis de Sade. How Western scholars are trying to understand De Sade's lusts and perversions as something intellectual. Whereas for him, passions are just that: passions. What's more mystifying is that some people can control them."
Reid had not read Foreign Studies but he continued to nod.
"Anyway, this is a very safe country. Certain kinds of crime are almost unheard of. But when there is crime…"
Hotch leaned back. He had been listening, quietly, but it appeared he had nothing to contribute to the discussion. "Sorry to interrupt, Captain, but do we have an itinerary for the rest of the day? We'll be happy to get some rest, but we'd also like to get to work as soon as possible."
"Of course," said Sasaki, then sneezed again, and Reed jumped. "Sorry.-You'll be meeting my boss, Superintendent Hasekura, Federal Police. Well he's not my direct superior, but he could snuff out my career with a wave of his hand. He's been supportive of my decision to call you in, but to him it's a publicity stunt.-Don't tell him I said that. He's a politician, that's all. He's never worn a uniform; he got the job because he's a Tokyo University old boy. Sometimes I don't think he cares about finding whoever killed those girls."
Reid and Morgan shared a guilty smile. "We got people like that in our organization too," said Morgan. Sasaki grimaced.
"Hasekura-san has an evening of festivities planned for you. He's shipped in professional geisha from Kyouto. I would suggest you try and get out of it."
"Why's that?" asked Reid.
"First, you'll be bored to tears; second, I agree we should get to work. I have a guide to take you around the neighborhood of the crime. You can take in the local color and investigate at the same time."
"I'm glad to hear it," said Hotch, then regretfully: "But as team leader, I can't just snub Hasekura. That would look bad. I think at least one of you should go with me."
"Prentiss was saying on the plane she was interested in traditional dance and music," Reid casually let slip.
"Sounds like she just volunteered to take one for the team," said Morgan.
"Then it's settled. You two, Rossi and Garcia will go with Captain Sasaki while we keep up the diplomatic end."
Sasaki was grinning like a schoolboy at the intrigue passing in front of him. He made no attempt to hide his dislike of Hasekura, a surprisingly frank attitude.
Reid said in the same casual tone: "Oh, and before I forget, Captain, Agent Rossi expressed a particular interest in visiting a…what was it? Little sister cafe?"
To which Morgan nodded seriously.
Sasaki looked a bit surprised, but murmured: "That could be arranged."
The outside world was invisible through the darkness and rain. They might have been traveling down an endless tunnel.
Meanwhile, in the other car, Garcia was glued to the pages of her guidebook. She had bought it the day before they left and it was already well-thumbed. Prentiss, unaware that she had just been volunteered for diplomatic service, leaned back with one hand over her eyes.
"…Ueno is one stop from Akihabara, and there's a zoo and a museum…they've got new pandas at the zoo! The old one died in two thousand eight, so sad, and they're having a contest to name the new ones…and the museum is doing a special on Buddhist statuary from Toudaiji Temple in Nara, except the ji part means temple, so it's kind of like saying ATM machine and…oh, oh god. This is really bad, isn't it? This is like, Nero-level messed up."
Prentiss knew what she meant. Very slowly, she shook her head. With her eyes still shut she spoke: "Garcia, feeling bad isn't going to bring anyone back to life. If you get the chance to enjoy yourself during this investigation, I say you should take it."
From the front seat Rossi said: "I'm with Agent Prentiss. Things will be hard enough without making them any harder on ourselves. Besides, this is your first time in Japan, isn't it?"
"However could you tell?"
"What about you, Emily? You asked me before, but you didn't tell."
"Once or twice, yes. On business. Just shuttling between the airport and the hotel. I never got to see the country.-You think Reid is really in the land of his dreams?"
"He and Captain Sasaki seemed to get along well."
"Oh, totally two peas in a bespectacled pod," Garcia agreed. Then a thought struck her and, in a more serious tone, she went on: "Um…you guys? I was thinking before, and I know this totally isn't my job or anything? But couldn't this just be…some kind of really weird suicide pact? Sorry, that came out of nowhere."
But Rossi was nodding. "The idea crossed my mind. But the information about the suicide notes wasn't leaked to the press, so they couldn't be copycats. All these women would have agreed ahead of time to do this at these intervals, and I don't buy that. Except for the ah, unusual method of attack, this profiles like a classic sexually obsessed serial killer."
Prentiss said softly: "That's been bothering me. The method. It is unusual, and it's hard to profile as distinctively male or female…in fact. If not for the notes? It would look like criminal mischief. Like something a child might do." "Or a high school student," Rossi suggested.
"I know this is a shot in the dark," said Garcia, "but have either of you seen Battle Royale?"
"I haven't had that pleasure.-Hang on," he dug out his vibrating cellhpone, "it's Reid…oh. Well, this is just terrific."
He showed Prentiss the glowing text: Sasaki says little sister cafe is a go ^_^
She smiled. "You should go, Dave. You might expand your horizons."
"To be honest? I'm not sure I'd trust myself in a place like that."
"You mean those indiscretions you mentioned before? Well, Reid made it all sound very innocent."
"Oh yeah," said Garcia, "it's totally not a sex thing. Except, sometimes it is?"
"Terrific," Rossi repeated, shook his head, and blew through his lips. Suddenly the transceiver crackled; a voice spoke in Japanese. The driver replied in kind. Then he turned to Rossi and said impassively: "Your hotel."
The darkness on their right was interrupted by a huge, bright structure, floodlights dazzling the rain-smudged pavement. Prentiss peered through the window. A sign read: Hotel New Otani.
It was cold.
He didn't know how long he had been standing there, waiting. There was a clock nearby, but it had stopped some time ago.
It was snowing. Or was it raining? The top of his head was wet. In the indistinct gloom ahead of him stood a figure. Then he realized he hadn't been waiting: she had. And his heart jumped as he wondered how long.
He tried to move towards her, but his legs had gone stiff with cold. He opened his mouth; a cloud of steam escaped, but no sound. It seemed like she was getting further away…
Reid spasmed awake.
His heart was thudding. He suffered a further moment of panic, not knowing where he was; the crisp white hotel room, lit through the drapes by an afternoon sun. Of course. For the first time in his life, he had woken up in Japan.
The dream hadn't been so disturbing. Certainly not compared to some in recent memory. So why had it felt like a nightmare? He continued to breath, his narrow chest heaving.
Recovering from addiction was more than fighting a craving. It meant knowing, in a moment of crisis, there was no sure way of feeling better. It meant facing the world alone. Even when the cravings receded, that knowledge remained. The drugs always worked; the trouble was they worked too well.
He managed to get to his feet and stagger across to the bathroom. After staring into the mirror for five seconds, he closed his eyes, and the images of the dream were still vivid. It must be something he'd seen in real life. Then the words of the note recurred powerfully:
Dear Yu, perhaps we really did kill ourselves that day six years ago.
He'd read those words somewhere before.