“Ah, good morning!”
The next morning, when I went back to his room, it was Kunieda-san who greeted me. I forced a smile to hide my disappointment. “Have you remembered anything?”
“No, nothing in particular… Oh, right!”
“What is it?”
“The victims of last night’s fire only had slight burns—no major injuries, thankfully. Turns out they’re a group of urban explorers who just so happened to have broken in on the night of the explosion.”
“Uh…cool…” This time, my disappointment was obvious. I was really hoping he’d remembered something relevant.
“Right, that doesn’t matter… I’m sorry.”
But when he gave me that sad puppy-dog look, I couldn’t stay mad at him. “Nah, there’s no rush. I’m gonna be staying another night; what about you?”
“I’m checking out today.”
“Gotcha.” I grabbed the memo pad off the side table and quickly jotted down my phone number, email address, and home address, because I suspected they weren’t saved in his work phone. “Here’s my contact info. Reach out if you need anything.”
“Thank you… Oh, you live near my apartment.”
“Yeah, I do. We’re neighbors, so you come by every now and then. In fact, we first met when you came over to interview me.”
“I see…”
It didn’t seem to ring a bell whatsoever. Biting back a sigh, I said, “Well, take care on your way home.” And with that, I left the room.
✦ ✦ ✦
It was Sunday evening. Like the world’s worst traveling companion, I zoned out in silence until my group parted ways at the Tokyo train station. Then, once I was alone, I headed to the next meetup spot.
“What? So now he’s just Mr. Perfect? For real? That’s hilarious!”
I didn’t expect Tatsuki to start crying or anything, but this was a little too flippant. If Kunieda-san was “Mr. Perfect,” then what about the real Kei? Then again, he did refer to himself as schlubby that one time.
“Man, when you said you needed to talk about something important, I was scared it was some kinda catastrophe! Oh, excuse me, can I get another beer? And an order of grilled mochi with cheese!”
“This is a catastrophe.”
“Well, I mean, he remembers the basic stuff, right?”
“Yeah, and he seems to remember everything about how his job works, too. But if he regains his memories in the middle of a broadcast, even he won’t be able to play it off. So you’re the only person I can ask to look out for him.”
“Sure thing!” Tatsuki shot me a spirited thumbs-up. “I’m always prepared to cut to commercials!”
“I didn’t mean that. Won’t that get you fired?”
“Well, why don’t you try to jog his memory, then? He doesn’t even know what he’s forgetting, right?”
“I mean, that’s true, but…”
I was still in possession of his personal phone—I wasn’t sure I should give it back to him right now, knowing he’d see all the rude text exchanges we’d had. In contrast, his work phone contained no traces of the real Kei.
“If I show him who he really is, he might really freak out, don’t you think? He’s already scared enough as it is, knowing there’s something missing.”
“Ah, yeah, that’s true. If I was in his shoes, I’d probably wanna curl up and die if I found out. Either that or I’d refuse to believe you and try to sue you for defamation.”
“Exac—Hey, wait a minute!”
“Dang, I almost had you.”
On the upside, talking to Tatsuki was at least better than agonizing over it alone, but on the other hand, getting him to stay on topic was like pulling teeth.
“Okay, well, what if you just casually bring him to your favorite places? Or show him little trinkets from your favorite moments?”
“I could do that…”
“Or do him in your favorite position.”
“Hey!”
What kind of newscaster talked like that in a public izakaya? For as much as I scoffed at Kei’s paranoia, this guy’s total lack thereof seemed…concerning.
“I’m just saying! Sometimes the body remembers things!”
“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”
“Whaddya mean? Just go for it!” he shrugged with a carefree grin.
“Yeah? And if it doesn’t work, what does that make me? A rapist?”
“Nah, no way! He’s still the same guy, so I’m sure he’ll fall in love with you all over again. Just, like, start the relationship over and hope he remembers someday!”
“And how do you think the other him would feel about that?” At this point, he was legitimately pissing me off, but he was too dense to notice.
“Look, if it was me dating him, I’d be fine if he went back to normal, but also, pretty entertained if he didn’t. I mean, it’s a mental issue; there’s nothing you can do. So what about you, Tsuzuki-san?”
“Huh?”
“Are you saying you can’t see him that way unless his memories return? You can’t love him if he’s only half-there?”
“Whatever.” I threw some money down on the table and rose to my feet.
“Hey, that’s too much.”
“Consider it payment for the last-minute notice. Like I said, I’m counting on you to look out for him.”
Outside the pub, the sweltering heat rising from the asphalt made it hard to breathe. Even when the sun went down, the summer atmosphere remained in full force. It reminded me of the night before last—the last night Kei was still Kei. If only I’d told him to watch his step—if only I’d been there at his side, ready to catch him—he’d still be himself. He was so close to overcoming his struggle at work, too. What an idiot.
“My job’s the whole reason I’m here with you right now.”
Was that a premonition or something? What perfect universe conspired to have that sweet, uncharacteristically smooth line be the last thing Kei said to me? He buttered me up just to leave me behind?
For once I was grateful for the Tokyo crowds, forcing me to spend my energy weaving through them in the opposite direction. Because if the streets were empty, I probably would have just stood there.