"We have no time, but we'll have to make do. Our Father, which art in heaven..." After Song finished his quick prayer, he opened the door to the minivan.
"Get on. Quickly."
Morimoto dove into the rear seat.
"Masatake, you, too. Hurry up."
"But these guys..." Kuji pointed at the two bodies on the ground.
"Leave them. Their friends will come and clean them up. If they've got smarts enough to procure police uniforms, they're probably competent to a degree."
Kuji climbed into the passenger seat and glared at Song.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I am a Catholic priest."
"You killed those people."
Song sighed and put the key in the ignition. "I won't try to make excuses by saying I had no choice. But as you can see from their methods, they're cruel and cold-blooded. I did this to protect everyone else. And if we can apprehend Morimoto here, we might still be able to help Yoshida."
"I see..." If Yoshida was still in the country, Kuji thought.
"It was a pity what happened to Ogura. If only we'd acted sooner. But, what's more important at the moment is..." Song turned around to check behind him. Morimoto was as still as a mouse in the back seat. "Where would be a safe place to take him? We can take him to the police, but we have no proof."
Just as the minivan engine roared to life and lurched into motion, Kuji's cell phone rang.
"Hello?" Kuji answered.
He was greeted by Nango's voice. "You fucking idiot!" he yelled. "What the hell have you gotten yourself into, you fag? Your job was to get fucked in the ass, and that was all you should have settled for!"
"Nango, why..."
"You retard. Why did you think I gave you a new cell phone? I get to listen in on all of your calls now. It's GPS equipped, too. Ever thought about that?"
"So that means... everything I said back there, you heard...? About those two being killed?"
"You're damn right, I did. That's why I'm calling, you idiot."
Song kept one hand on the steering wheel and reached out toward Kuji with the other. "Pass that to me, please."
Kuji passed the phone to him, which Song wedged between his shoulder and neck as he spoke into it quietly. "Hello, Mr. Nango, or whoever this is. Please lead us to somewhere safe. Thank you for getting in touch. You're a great help."
"You're the last person I want to be thanked by, all right? Give the phone back to him. He can navigate."
Kuji took the cell phone back from Song and orally passed on the instructions that Nango said into his ear. The car wove through the nighttime streets.
Nango's instructions were short. "Next, turn left," he would say. "Next, right." The car eventually turned off the main road, where there were barely any more oncoming cars. It took a while for Kuji to notice that Song was muttering something under his breath. He listened carefully. It was a Bible passage.
"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight..."
Song wore a tense expression on his face as he looked before him. He barely blinked; he only occasionally closed his eyes as if in prayer.
伊Who are you? Where did you come from? Why do you have a gun?伊 A jumble of questions sprung up and crowded Kuji's mind, but he could not bring himself to interrupt Song while he recited Bible verses to himself.
The car pulled to a stop in front of a residential house. It was within Metropolitan Tokyo, but Kuji wasn't sure of the exact address. There were no streetlights around, and it was pitch black. The house was unremarkable and ordinary-looking. In front of the gate stood Nango and another uniformed police officer.
"Hurry up and get out," Nango ordered. The three of them exited the car. "This is where we shelter important witnesses," Nango explained. "Kuji and that other guy - Morimoto? You guys will be assigned protection."
Nango made a shooing motion with his hand toward Song. "You get out of here immediately. Our nation's laws can't protect you."
Song bowed his head. "I understand. Please take care of the both of them. Especially Masatake."
"What the hell do you mean?" Kuji said, looking back and forth between Song and Nango. The two men ignored him.
"Masatake is a very honest and good young man. He's been a great help."
"I'm sure he has. He's made himself useful to me, too. In a lot of ways. I give him a good time for what he does. Doing what you can't do."
Kuji flushed in anger at Nango's snide remark. "Nango!" he snapped.
Nango grabbed Kuji's arm as if to tell him to shut up. Song smiled as he looked on.
"Mr. Nango, isn't it time that you set Masatake free?"
Nango shook his head. "Nope. This guy's useful. Can't let him go."
"I see," Song smiled again. "Masatake, he must cherish you well. If so, that's fine."
伊Cherish? Are you kidding me?伊 Kuji almost retorted, but when he saw Song heading back to the car, he shook free of Nango's hand. He sprinted around to the passenger's side.
"Where're you going?"
"Now that I've delivered you in safe hands, my job is done. I'm going back to where I belong. To my church." Song climbed into the driver's seat and looked at Kuji. "Now, be a good boy and stay there."
"Wait!" Kuji protested desperately. "I wanted to ask you - did you know I was a spy?"
Song smiled and shook his head. "I didn't. You've always been my dear Masatake. You are, always have been, and always will be."
Morimoto disappeared into the house, accompanied by police officers. Kuji went in after him, being half-dragged along by Nango. With a roar of the engine, the minivan drove off.
"Goodbye."
Those were the last words that Song had left him.
Upon entering the house, Morimoto and Kuji were separated. Morimoto was taken to the second floor, and Kuji to the first. Nango took Kuji to a small Western-style room. It was about eighty square feet, with a student's desk and bed. In a regular household, this would be the child's room.
"Sit down."
Kuji sat down on the bed and looked up at Nango, who was standing in front of him with his feet set apart.
"Nango, who is Song, really? Why did you say that you couldn't protect him?"
Nango didn't answer his question, but instead folded his arms. "This turf belongs to Metropolitan Police jurisdiction. I've got no power here."
"Metropolitan Police? What's the case about?"
"No idea." Nango reached out and grabbed a fistful of Kuji's hair.
"Ow!" Kuji protested.
"Shut up! Thanks to you, we're in a pretty little mess. I had to beg to be allowed in here, all right? Not to mention having to put up with people commenting on what an idiot pet I had for an S."
"I don't care about that. Tell me about Song."
"And I'll take that question and throw it right back at ya, idiot. I thought he was supposed to be a priest?"
Kuji shook his head. "No priest would murder someone, would they?" he lifted his gaze to search Nango's expression. "I feel so stupid," he muttered to himself. "It's his fault. He got me in the mood because he was putting on an act of being prim and proper. But he's exactly like the rest."