Well here it is. I'm sorry about the delay with the update, but I've been busy with other projects for the past month and I may be just as busy for the next week or two. But I want you to know that the story is still alive and well. And with this chapter we have offically passed the halfway point of the story (chapter-wise). So thank you everyone for sticking around this long and I hope you all will continue to enjoy this story. Merry Christmas and Happy New Years!

Chapter 9

Listening to Tomo's story, Sakaki glanced over to Chiyo and wondered what she'd be thinking about this. Heck, Sakaki wouldn't have believed Tomo if it weren't for the fact that she'd read through Chiyo's journals. But once more, they seemed like two completely different Osakas. And the things that Tomo described Osaka doing; where did that come from?

"I know it's not the easiest thing to believe, especially knowing Osaka," Tomo said, hoping to calm them both, "Saying and doing those things, especially to one of her friends. But for what it's worth, I don't think she had a choice."

"What happened to Kagura," Sakaki finally asked.

Tomo explained, "She disappeared. I radioed Chief and he told me he'd take care of it. It didn't look like Kagura was going anywhere so I was told to just have one of the neighbors watch her until someone would arrive to pick her up. Why I couldn't do it, I don't know." Tomo clenched a fist out of frustration. Even though it had happened so long ago, she'd been right there; could've stopped it. "But when I asked Chief about it the next day, he said she'd disappeared. They didn't know where she went. Kagura must have slipped past the person that I got to watch her. Imagine that," Tomo chuckled, "A girl with a cane slipping past someone unnoticed. If I only would've taken her in . . ."

"What about Osaka," Chiyo asked, eyeing Tomo. "Where'd she go after that? Did Kagura say?"

"No," Tomo shook her head, "Kagura didn't say anything about that. And even if she did, I probably wouldn't have believed her. I mean, I myself doubted what she'd said. It didn't make any sense you know."

"What happened?"

"Well," Tomo said, glancing at both Sakaki and Chiyo, "For a little while, I wasn't allowed to talk about anything dealing with Kagura. Then when things started getting released . . ."

I sat in Yomi's apartment, watching her set the table. Work had been a bore, like usual. Chief must still be a little uneasy with putting me back on the streets. But Yomi'd always told me to stick with it; especially since her major never worked out. Even though I teased her about it, I felt bad for her. In school, Yomi had always outranked me in grades by miles. If anything, I expected our roles to be reversed. She really hated that café job. But at least she had her boyfriend, Yuuko; what good could be said of him though was arguable.

"Well Tomo, you're sure making this a habit," Yomi said, setting down a scrumptious looking chicken udon.

"Sorry. But you're the professional," I said, hoping for a rise; instead a glare.

"I heard about Kagura on the news," Yomi said, taking a seat. Then, looking at me expectantly, she continued, "Your name was mentioned. What happened?"

And so I told her. I told her everything from the second I walked into Kagura's house, to the moment she finished talking about Osaka. Everything that I could remember, I reiterated to Yomi. I was actually kind of surprised by how long they kept things closed with the case. I mean, the end of August seemed a little long to release this stuff. What kept them? ". . . and when I asked Chief about her, he said she'd disappeared. No one knows where she is."

"You mean she was sitting in front of that trophy case ever since?"

Nodding, I responded, "That's kind of how I took it. It's like she was mesmerized by the thing. So bizarre. I mean, it almost sounds like drugs or something, but . . ."

"Kagura wasn't the kind to take drugs. None of us were."

"That, and no traces of drugs were ever found in the house. She had the sake sure, but I couldn't smell alcohol on her and . . ." Sighing, I sucked down some of the chicken udon and said, "I don't know. I don't know what to think."

"Do you believe her?"

"Do you," I asked back and receiving a slow shake of her head, I looked away for a moment and said to Yomi, "I don't know if she saw Osaka or not. Cause that just doesn't make sense. But I do think she saw someone or something, or at least she really believed she saw something. I just wish I could see it too. Or just talk to her again, and hear more about what happened." I chuckled a bit and felt my cheeks go red. I hated talking about work, hated talking about this kind of stuff with Yomi. It made me feel uncomfortable. "Sorry," I said, snatching up another bite of the udon, "Say, how's Yuuko? You went out with him last week didn't you?"

Yomi hesitated at the question. Maybe I knew better than to ask, but I did worry about her. Yuuko and Yomi had been dating on and off for over a year. There'd be an argument, and suddenly they'd break up. But then one (usually Yomi it seemed) always crawled back to the other. And honestly, I didn't care for Yuuko. Though I'd only met him once, he'd come off as being really snide and full of himself. I remember when Yomi had first met him, things had gone great for a while, and then she'd caught him hanging out with a bunch of sleazy women. But in the end, I think she's afraid to leave him.

"Good. It went good," Yomi said stiffly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

I eyed for a few minutes. She lied. They'd had a fight. I could tell. "Alright," I gave in. Sure I could've forced the truth out of her, but what good would that have done? She'd tell me eventually, and on the rare occasion that this might be only a small squabble, maybe I wouldn't hear about it at all. But those kind of arguments were becoming fewer and farther between. "Just let me know if ya need someone to break his nose," I exclaimed, punching my hand.

This kind gesture not appreciated as always, I was forced to apologize and we ended up eating in silence. Yeah I'd gotten into the habit of stopping by Yomi's apartment once a week (mainly because it was right next to mine), and while I think it annoyed the hell out of her, I also think she enjoyed it. "So, how was work," I asked, trying to set aside yet another failed attempt at humor.

And Yomi, visibly calmer with the change in subject, ranted on and on about work and how she hated the new person because he couldn't run the cash register, couldn't do the dishes fast enough, and a bazillion other things.

"I'd always wanted to do more to help Yomi. But she wouldn't let me. I think she knew that if I ever ran into that Yuuko, I'd probably do more than just bust his nose," Tomo said, "So I tried not to butt in with it."

"How did Yomi meet this guy," Sakaki asked, wondering how one of the more intelligent girls from their gang ended up with such a loser. Ashamed to think it, she would've expected Tomo to grab the rotten apple of a boyfriend.

"I think she met him at work, but I'm not sure. And then, he was a good guy. But I think he ran into some money along the way and it really screwed him up."

"Did Osaka talk to Yomi," Chiyo asked, apparently having a one tracked mind.

Tomo understood the question however and after all, Osaka was the original reason she had come to see Chiyo. "Eventually yes. But I think Osaka had been watching her for a long time. I wonder if she did the same for Kagura, or me." With all eyes on Tomo, she continued, "About a year after talking to Yomi about Kagura, I came home to find Yomi crying . . ."

I stepped up to my apartment door with key in hand, and before I could unlock it, a soft whimpering escaped the confines of Yomi's closed door. Hesitating, I wondered whether or not I should investigate. It could be coming from her TV. I thought but quickly trashed the notion when the sound drifted slightly louder out into the hallway, and I could more clearly make out Yomi's sobs. Walking over to her door, I lightly knocked, and when no response came, I turned the knob and opened the door a crack. "Yomi," I called soothingly, "Yomi are you okay?"

I thought I heard some kind of answer, but couldn't make it out. Closing the door behind me, I walked through her kitchen/living room and into her bedroom. There sat Yomi in a blubbering mess. She'd taken her glasses off and had set them on the bed while she held her face in her hands. Still in her work uniform from the café, I assumed something must have happened there. Careful not to break her glasses again, I sat beside her and rubbed her shoulder. "Are you okay?" She didn't answer, but only shook her head. "I'm guessing something happened at work?" She nodded, and her crying began to diminish. "You gave a customer food poisoning," I asked, hoping it that would at least put a smile on her face. It didn't.

Instead, Yomi faced me, her nose red, cheeks glistening wet. "I'm not in the mood." But she didn't pull away from me. Yomi leaned her head into my chest and allowed me to hold her. "It's Yuuko."

"Oh," I said. No wonder that didn't work. "What about Yuuko?"

"I seen him today," she said sniffling, "He was fooling around with some girl."

"Again," I said surprised, "Yomi, this isn't the first time this guy has . . ."

"I know that Tomo," Yomi interrupted sharply.

"Then why do stay with him," I asked, petting her head. "I mean face it Yomi. The guy's an asshole. I mean, sure he was nice enough when you met him. But he's changed and I know you can do better than him."

Ignoring me, Yomi continued, "I just can't figure out why. What does she have that I don't? Where'd he even find her? And it happened on my break too. I mean, why he would even let that bitch take him somewhere he knows he'd be caught?" She released a long, hiccupping breath and glanced up at me.

"It's okay. I'm here," I said reassuringly. "Do you wanna tell me about it?"

Nodding, Yomi relaxed herself in my arms, and I wished I had something to lean to for support. But I kept silent as Yomi began, "I'd just gotten on my break and was grabbing something to eat . . ."

"Hey Yomi-san, you can take your break now," Hitomi-san hollered from the back.

"Okay. Thanks," I said, exhausted. I hated working the register during the noon hour. The café always flooded with people right as the clock would strike twelve. And with the dinky old machine that we used, a week barely passed without the damn thing freezing up on us. Oh well, I logged off the register and walked to the back, to prepare myself a nice katsudon to eat. Though this place had few pluses, one that came with the job was learning how to cook.

After preparing the pork cutlet and the rice, I decided I'd actually sit at one of the tables, versus in the back. I didn't like the secluded atmosphere back there; too stuffy. Grabbing a single table, I eased back into the chair, resting my poor feet and ate. The place buzzed with chit chatter, rumors, news, jokes, scandals, and every topic in between. Though I preferred the peace and quiet, being able to eat in a location that made me forget I was even working helped the break actually relax me.

Eating my katsudon, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me. It shouldn't have bothered me because people often watched others in a place like this; usually out of boredom and for a lack of a TV. But for some reason, I felt uncomfortable; almost threatened, like I shouldn't be here (not that I would argue with that). I sneaked a quick glance around my table, hoping that I was only imagining things. And to my relief, no one posing a threat seemed to show any interest in me. The only person that eyed me was a lone high school girl, sitting in a booth, by a window. She sat forgotten, sipping a cup of milk tea; watching me. Even when I stared directly at her, she didn't bother to look away. Her desolate eyes penetrated me, and I realized that it was her gaze which somehow threatened me, urging me to leave. But she said not a word. And the more I looked her over, the more I recognized her. My mind was clouded, and I couldn't place the face.

Standing up, I walked towards the table, and felt her stare grow more intense, pushing me away. But before I could reach her, a woman stepped in front me, blocking my view of the girl. "What are you doing here, you little brat! Get out," she shouted and she threw the girl out into the aisle. The girl ran out through the door, but not before making a last pleading glance at me before exiting.

People already stirring, I figured someone else would deal with the crass broad and so I hurried to the door, hoping to catch up with the girl. But someone else entered at the same time that I arrived at the door. "Y-Yuuko," I asked astonished.

"Yomi," he stumbled, "what are you doing here? I thought it was your day off."

"What are you talking about? I don't get days off." I said, quickly glancing out the window, hoping to catch sight of the girl, but to no avail. She'd be long gone by now. "Say, did you want to eat with me? I'm on my break and . . ."

"Yuuko!"

I spun on the spot to find the same woman who had thrown the girl out of the booth, now running up to my boyfriend. She eagerly wrapped her arms around him and swiftly, but not innocently kissed him on the cheek. "Kurmura-san, please," Yuuko nervously begged.

"Why not," the woman playfully argued, "You said we'd be together all day!"

"Yuuko," I stammered, suddenly finding it hard to breath, "What's going on? Who is this?"

"Eh Yomi, please. This is just . . ."

But the woman stuck her nose out into my face and said, "Who am I? I should be asking you the same question, silly waitress. What you think you're doing standing around, gawking at another girl's man? Don't you have some dishes to wash!"

With that she grabbed Yuuko's arm, wrapping her body tightly around it, she pulled him toward the booth that she had emptied and said, "Come on Yuuko dear. We've got no time for the likes of her."

"I don't know how many times I came home to Yomi crying over stuff like that. But that particular instance stuck with me, especially with what happened to Kagura. I don't think Yomi ever realized who that girl was, or if she did she never told me," Tomo explained. Then nodding at Chiyo, she said, "What about you Chiyo? Did she ever follow you?"

Chiyo nodded. Within the past few hours, she looked as if she had aged more years just from hearing that story than from all her heart problems. "I've seen her so many times. I can't even begin to count. But she never did anything like that."

Tomo gulped with the realization of her friend's words. "Chiyo," her voice wavered unsteadily, "Before I continue, there's something I want to know. Since you've seen her so many times . . . did Osaka ever speak to you, like she spoke to Kagura? Did she ever . . ."

"Yes," Chiyo whispered. Her eyes had lost all life with that answer. "Yes. She did. And I haven't seen her since."

Finally breaking her silence, Sakaki slowly asked, "What did she say to you?" And glancing at Tomo, Sakaki caught the girl's heightened interest in the question. But Chiyo wouldn't answer it.

Ignoring Sakaki, Chiyo turned to Tomo and said, "I'll tell you what Osaka said to me; but only after I hear what she said to you."

"Fair enough," Tomo said, relaxing in her chair a little. "Let's see. Not long after Yomi told me about Yuuko, maybe a week or so; it's probably why I remember that so well. I had started to get impatient with the investigators working on Kagura's case. You see, we still didn't know whether or not she was alive or where she was. And it'd been almost a year since she disappeared in 2012. So I'd started doing some "investigating" of my own . . ."

While I spent much of my time at work filing papers, looking over police reports, and whatnot, my breaks were a different story. Rather than sitting back and kicking my feet up for fifteen minutes or so, I spent my breaks rereading old reports on Kagura's case. No one was able to come up with a viable explanation as to why she disappeared or as to where she went. I had tried interviewing a couple of neighbors and coworkers, but none could provide anything new. Chief had even caught me once when one of the concerned people called in and asked about my intentions. But what did that matter? In the time I'd spent reviewing Kagura's case, I hadn't come any closer to solving it than the investigators who were getting paid to solve it.

"September 23rd already," I said to myself as I checked the calendar on my computer. The missing persons' reports would be due soon. Oh well, my shift was about to end. I'd worry about that tomorrow. But Kagura's case kept me from relaxing. There had to be something that I was missing. Opening up the police archives, I clicked open the public archives file for a quick search (for the millionth time). It never amounted to much, but it'd give me something to do until the bell rang. I typed in Kagura's name and did a quick search. Files on her athletic competitions popped up. I'd read over a couple of those before. Nothing more than a small blurb on the back of the Sports section. Next came the announcement that she'd participate in the Olympics; followed by the accident that took her out of them. I'd read over those articles half a dozen times. Nothing there. Then came the article that I'd read every time I did the search; the article about her disappearance.

"I've gotta be missing something obvious," I said to myself, rereading the article:

"Another tragedy has befallen the ex-Olympic athlete Kagura. Once a top contender for the gold in 2008 for women's swimming, Kagura was thrown out of the Olympics by a horrible auto accident. Now, just weeks after the 2012 Summer Olympics, Kagura has turned up missing. The report came in not long after an officer went to check up on the former athlete. Kagura, who had been absent from work for over a week, reportedly spoke to the officer briefly on an undisclosed subject, and disappeared later that day. If anyone has any information regarding her whereabouts, please contact the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department."

I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the screen; as I usually did after reading the article. Sure there were other articles I could I read, some mentioning me more than others, but I didn't have time. Then suddenly, it hit me. I don't know how I overlooked this for so long. I opened up a new search and typed in "Osaka." I cursed under my breath and said, "No stupid, that was her nickname." And it took me a minute to remember just what Osaka's real name had been. "Kasuga Ayumu . That's it," I finally said, and typed it into the search bar.

Articles on her death appeared, as was expected. And then articles on the death of her parents. Eventually, I discovered a tabloid article entitled, "Kasuga Murder/Suicide – Work of Dead Daughter?" I quickly skimmed the contents and learned that a neighbor lady had overheard some kind of domestic involving an unexplained voice, but when she'd gone to the police, they hadn't believed her story.

"Tomo, go home. I know what you're doing and it's time to stop." Chief hollered from his office.

"Right," I answered, my eyes sticking to the screen. I did a quick search on the woman that the tabloid interviewed, Senzuki-san. Only moments later and I had her address. Printing the page, I grabbed my coat, things, and paper just as Chief stepped out of his office to shoo me away. "I'm going. I'm going."

"Yeah, just stay out of trouble," I heard him say, but I was too far out the door to care. If this lady had any information which might lead me to Osaka, then it was worth a shot. I didn't necessarily believe Osaka was behind this, but maybe this lead would take me to Kagura. I still had my uniform on so I'd just make it look like a follow-up or something; not that she'd believe me.

Arriving at the Senzuki household, I stepped out onto a perfectly cut lawn. Faded green, the grass would've died if cut any shorter. A fence separated the neighboring property with a stale garden leaning up against it. I stepped up to the front door and rang the bell. The sour chime that plays at every clock in every city at every hour echoed within the house. I don't know why, but that tune annoyed the hell out of me. In high school it didn't bother me so much, but once I got down to filing papers at the station, every single clock in the building would chime away the same tune; and of course no two clocks told the same time. Maybe that's why I hated it so much.

A bustling of feet and the door opened; finally. An elderly woman stood before me, her eyes studying me over like she didn't know what to do. She must've glanced at my badge five or six times before saying anything. "Yes dear, how may I help you? I'm not interested in donating to any fundraiser if that's what you're here for."

"Oh no, that's not it," I said quickly. "I'm actually here because I wanted to ask you a few questions . . ."

"Oh! Well it's about time," Senzuki-san said, "Come on in dear and we'll talk all about it."

Confused, I entered her house and removed my shoes. Was she some sort of psychic or are we on totally different wave lengths? After insisting on me taking a seat, I watched her rush off to prepare some tea. Generous host, but something felt wrong here. Maybe it was the open window with the nice view into the next house, with a pair of binoculars resting on a nearby rocker. Or maybe it was the fact that I caught her sneaking a glance into the living room to see what I was doing, an offense she regularly repeated. It made me wonder whether or not she had a telescope sitting next to a window on the second the floor.

Returning with the tea, Senzuki-san carefully poured me out a cup as if one spill would instantly stain. "Here you go officer. Now, let me tell you what's been going on. I hate wasting time and so much has been wasted already. I've called your offices seven times since that couple moved in, and they are the noisiest bunch of . . ."

"Wait, that's not what I'm here for," I interjected. Senzuki-san stopped and looked at me as if I was out of my mind. But I ignored her and continued, "My name is Officer Takino and I'm here about an interview you did almost ten years ago. It involved the Kasugas. Do you remember?"

She then became very busy with doing nothing, as if I had upset her. When I attempted to calm her down, she spat, "Are you here to make fun of me too? Just like those reporters from that magazine? Well go ahead and laugh. I know what I heard."

"Wait. You don't understand. I'm not here to make fun of you. I just want to hear the story; whatever you remember." Senzuki-san considered this in her outrageously pink dress. It was as if she had gotten all dressed up just for me; or at least anyone who happened to stop by.

"Very well," Senzuki-san released, and sipping up some tea, she said, "I don't remember so clearly anymore. But I'll tell you what I do remember." Setting her cup down, she gave me that look from when she first saw me, those penetrating eyes, probably try to determine why I was really there. "Well Mr. Kasuga had just returned from work. I remember he couldn't stand being at work so late cause his wife was in such a state. She was depressed you know. Almost hung herself, but he didn't want anyone to know of course. So there I was in the garden, watering my lilies when there was this commotion from the Kasuga house."

"Was that their house," I asked, pointing out the open window, past the fence with the garden.

"Yes. They always kept it so clean."

"How could hear them?"

"Well they had the windows open cause the Mr. gets warm so fast. And at first, all I heard were the greetings that they always exchanged when Mr. Kasuga got back home. He was such a gentleman. But then I heard a third voice, a voice I know I'd heard before. And it wasn't long after that the couple was a fighting." Senzuki-san paused for a moment to take another drink.

"Did they have many fights?" I noticed her eyes had slowly crept over to the window.

"Of course they did. Just over little things though; like any married couple. But this was different. Mr. Kasuga was in an uproar, sayin things like "That's not her!" and "We could never do such a thing!" Well he was hell bent on something and I could hear his wife crying." She paused for a moment to clear her throat. "I felt terrible for the woman. Mrs. Kasuga was always a sweet lady, always visiting with me. My husband had passed away years ago and she always kept me company when I was feeling lonely."

"What happened next?"

"Well, they argued and then, and I'll never forget this. I heard Mrs. Kasuga shout, "But she's our daughter!" Well I knew that their little Ayumu had passed away two years prior; and how that tragedy tore that poor woman apart, as it would any mother. And then I heard that third voice again, more clearly. It was that of a young girl."

"Was it Ayumu?"

Senzuki-san nodded her head, "It sounded just like her. But there was something wrong with her voice. I never did see exactly who the girl was, but the way she spoke . . . could've turned your skin to marble."

"What did she say?"

Troubled, Senzuki-san said, "Why she asked them for help. She said, "Mom, dad. I'm in trouble. And I need your help." She said something else that I couldn't make out and that really set off Mr. Kasuga. He bellered something so rude I think it shook his wife to silence. But I never heard the girl after that. It was like she had vanished."

"How long after that was the murder/suicide?"

"Why just a couple of days. It's sad too. They were such a nice couple." Then, Senzuki-san got up and walked over to the window where she stared out at the neighbors. Her voice becoming irritated, she said, "You should hear the people that live there now. The noises they make. You know a person almost can't stand to be next to them." Turning to me, Senzuki-san raised an eyebrow and said, "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I don't know, "I answered truthfully.

"Then why are you here?"

I had no answer. A lump seemed to catch in my throat and I couldn't answer. I just smiled and said, "Just looking for a friend." The woman made an exasperated sort of "Hmph" and turned back to her window. When she wouldn't talk to me anymore, I let myself out and drove home.