“Being concerned is one thing, but aren’t you taking it a little too far? Her family has a right to deal with the situation in their own way, and there’s really nothing more you can do. Don’t tell me you and her seriously are—”
“Hey, now who’s jumping to conclusions?” Sayama butted in, jumping to Toshihiko’s defense. “Dr. Nakamura accused him of the same thing, you know. Mr. Katayama seemed pretty hurt by it. Really, it’s sad the way people latch on to these ideas just because the two parties involved are male and female.”
Midori’s face stiffened. Her lip trembled briefly, but then she turned back to Toshihiko with a steadier expression.
“I’m sorry. I just meant to say that it would be easy for people to assume things like that. I don’t want you getting into trouble.”
“No, it’s fine. I appreciate you looking out for me.”
Toshihiko went with a very by-the-book response. Midori apologized a couple more times before returning to her own desk. She seemed strangely persistent about it, which only made the possible connection between Midori and the letters stronger in Toshihiko’s mind.
“Such a hassle, am I right?” Sayama mumbled. “We’re talking about a middle school girl. There’s no way you’d have feelings for her either way. You’re just worried like any responsible adult would be, but because you’re a man and she’s a girl, people get these weird ideas.”
Toshihiko’s motives weren’t quite as noble as Sayama seemed to think, of course. He nodded vaguely, feeling a little guilty that the other teacher was working so hard to cheer him up.
“If I’m being honest, though, I agree that you seem a little too fixated. I don’t think romance comes into it, but there’s so much about this incident that still doesn’t make sense. It almost seems like what you really want is to question Nakamura about it.”
Toshihiko hesitated. Midori being the one behind the letters was still nothing but a personal theory; he wasn’t about to share it unless he was sure. If he told Sayama why he was so concerned about Mirei, he’d have to tell him what he knew about the stalker, too. And given how not just Mirei but every woman at the cram school was a potential suspect, he couldn’t go letting that particular cat out of the bag just yet.
On the other hand, looking at Sayama’s kind, considerate face, he couldn’t help but feel some of that paranoia and suspicion ease up. It was obvious why everybody seemed to like this guy. Sayama was the archetypal “normal” person whom Toshihiko had always aspired to be like. “What you see is what you get” seemed the perfect way to sum him up. For better or worse, people always ended up overanalyzing the things Toshihiko said and did.
“Life would be so much easier if I could be like you…”
The moment he uttered the words, he realized how jealous and petty they sounded. Sayama didn’t seem to hear him, however, and Toshihiko wasn’t about to repeat himself.
“I dropped something when I fell that day. It’s kind of important to me, so I wanted to check if Nakamura knew what happened to it, that’s all.”
He flashed Sayama a wry smile, then asked him to keep it off-the-record, since him not being worried about Mirei might look just as suspicious. The other man sighed.
“I’m sorry if I touched a nerve back there. When you smile like that, though, I can see why people fall over themselves trying to please you sometimes.”
“You didn’t touch a nerve. It’s all good.”
He was being sincere. When Sayama said that kind of stuff, none of it had sounded like criticism. It was more like he was paying Toshihiko a genuine, heartfelt compliment. In a weird way, talking to him dispelled the gloom that dealing with Midori had brought up. Just one more reason to be envious of the man’s interpersonal skills.
The next day, Toshihiko took a trip to Nihonbashi. He was going to see Miyoshi, an old college friend. More of an acquaintance, really. They’d been in different school years and hadn’t spoken much back in the day. But some time after graduation, they’d run into each other at a screening of a minor horror film and bonded over that. Miyoshi was a researcher studying molecular biology. After Toshihiko got in touch with him to ask for his advice, Miyoshi suggested they meet at his lab.
Thinking about the thing he’d brought with him made Toshihiko want to throw up. He’d put it in a paper bag that he was keeping closed tight, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Inside the bag was the menstrual pad, the dried blood still clinging to it. The same one that had fallen off his door and gotten stuck to his shoe.
Sweat beaded on his face, making his mask cling to his skin. Given the kind of attention he attracted, riding the train could be risky business, so Toshihiko always wore a face mask for safety. At least when he was out on the street, he had somewhere to run if any trouble started. It might have made him come across as a little paranoid, but that was a small price to pay for his peace of mind.
The domino effect that Toshihiko’s face caused on a train had to be seen to be believed. He’d had to start wearing the mask when he was in middle school. These days, he rarely left home without it—a fact that he definitely resented on some level.
The sensation of the mask sticking to his face inevitably made him think of how the menstrual pad had stuck to his door. He thought about taking his mask off, but even with only his eyes on show, his appearance was already exerting its usual influence. He could feel stares on him. Not just from one person—there were several purposeful gazes resting on him. It wasn’t the same clingy gaze of the woman who had sent the letters, but it was still disturbing nonetheless. He decided to switch trains before things had a chance to escalate.
Still feeling gloomy, he finally arrived at his destination. It was a large building reminiscent of a department store. The lower levels actually did house retail outlets. This was where Miyoshi worked. Toshihiko gave his name at the reception area and received a lanyard and visitor ID from the security guard. He took the elevator to the tenth floor. He hadn’t called ahead to say he’d arrived, but Miyoshi was there waiting for him.