Regular users of Asylum Net were mostly in their twenties and thirties, with the occasional person in their forties who had just been laid off. Morimoto also ran a job posting website on the Internet, and actively introduced regulars to the employers registered there.
The lucky ones who were able to snag a job would go out and come back late at night. When they had free time, they chatted with their roommates. A sense of community, so rare among young people of today, blossomed here. Some roommates would move out to rent an apartment together. Once they rented a place, they would be able to enroll in health insurance. It was a chance for them to move up from the lowest rungs of society.
There were still few people who had reached the next milestone beyond that - permanent, full time employment - but Kuji felt that this system worked.
Then, what was the problem?
Just as he was thinking of telling Song that there was nothing to be suspicious about, it happened.
A youth named Ogura, who had been staying at the shelter for three months now, approached Kuji. He had asked Kuji to do his laundry a number of times, and on this day, too, he came down to the basement boiler room with his laundry bag in hand.
"You can leave it there," said Kuji, in the midst of tossing someone else's laundry into the machine. Ogura fidgeted on the spot.
"Hey," he said, "do you remember Yoshida? He was here for about six months, remember?"
It had been less than a month since Kuji had begun working here. Perhaps because of his job as an S, he was better than most at remembering names and faces. But even then, he was not able to recall Yoshida.
"You know I only come into the basement for a little bit every day, right?" Kuji said. "Everyone's out working when I come in during the day. How should I know about him?"
"Yeah, but he was a bit of a clean freak," Ogura replied. "He put out his laundry every day."
Kuji was finally able to conjure a vague mental image. He remembered Yoshida was a little heavyset and bespectacled, with an appearance of a stereotypical otaku, or geek. Now that Ogura mentioned it, he hadn't seen the young man for a while. But there were many people like that.
"Are you sure he didn't just move out into an apartment somewhere because he had enough money?"
Ogura shook his head firmly. "That can't be."
"How do you even know? Are you guys best friends, or something?"
"No, but... I have proof." Ogura brought a closed fist out from behind his back, stuck it under Kuji's nose, and opened his hand slowly.
"Huh?" Kuji said.
"Don't you know what this is? It's Darth Vader."
"Yeah, I know that. But what about it?"
"He and I are both huge fans of action figures and figurines. You know what I'm getting at, right?" Ogura said with a look of derision. Kuji almost threw a punch at him, but managed to hold off and nod instead.
"So?"
"See, you don't get it. This is super rare. The only thing he'd treasure more is his life!" Ogura burst out loudly. He caught himself and hastily put his hand over his mouth. Kuji was a little exasperated to see someone get so worked up about nothing in this day and age. He turned away from the boy in front of him.
"I'm busy. We can talk later."
"Wait! You're the only one I can talk to," Ogura said, pulling at his sleeve.
"Go to Morimoto. He's the boss of this place."
"I can't. He's probably one of them."
Kuji turned around and saw fear in Ogura's eyes. He closed the door of the washing machine and jerked his chin.
"This way," he said, and led the boy behind an unused boiler, where they both sat down.
"What are you talking about?" he asked once they were settled.
"You know about urban legends? There's one going around among Internet cafe refugees. They say if you keep on wandering around like this, someday you'll get kidnapped and taken somewhere."
"Kidnapped..." Kuji felt some flags go up his mind. But they were talking about nothing more than an urban legend.
Ogura looked panicked at Kuji's unconvinced look. "That's why I'm saying, isn't it weird that Yoshida's gone?" he insisted.
"Like I said, some guys move out to rent an apartment. Other ones go back to the countryside. Some of them actually become homeless. Maybe he's gone and done one of those."
"But I think he would take this along." The little Darth Vader on the palm of the boy's hand looked anything but valuable. But for an action figure fanatic, perhaps it was.
"Then, maybe he left his stuff behind to stay overnight somewhere else because he's doing an overnight shift at work."
Ogura shook his head.
"His locker and bunk bed are all cleaned out. The locker had the key back inside, and it was empty."
"Isn't that weird?" Kuji asked. "You mean he didn't keep his precious action figure in his locker?"
Ogura yet again gave him a look of scorn. "He used to keep this on the frame of his bunk bed and look at it until he fell asleep. His figurines are his life. Of course he would keep it in close reach."
Ogura had been on the top bunk of the same bed, and when they found out that they both shared the same interest in "geek" or "Akihabara" pop culture, they had hit it off and shared stories about their upbringing as well.