I had a plan and something resembling a script, but no clue what my chances of success were—in other words, it had a level of sloppiness on par with “After this commercial break” or “Now for our next segment.”
No cast, no crew, no rehearsals, but I was gonna do it anyway.
I checked my cell phone multiple times during the taxi ride. No notifs. I had made sure to include my phone number in the message I wrote to Eba, and I figured he’d at least let me know if he was planning to decline, but the fact that he hadn’t even demanded an explanation suggested to me that he might have simply ignored my letter altogether. This was my first gamble, predicated on both his surprisingly compassionate side and his fondness of me.
My destination: the hotel where Ushio and I had spent the night. Please be there, I prayed as I boarded the elevator and rode it up to the room I had reserved in advance. I knocked twice before putting my keycard in the slot and opening the door. The lights were on.
“One minute I see you on TV, and the next you’re right in front of me. Feels funny.”
Eba sat comfortably in the recliner, feet on the ottoman, watching television. The coffee table was littered with cans of beer and mini-bottles of wine and whiskey—all empty.
Jeez, man, you drank all that?
“I gotta say, can you newscasters really afford this kind of room? Even when I’m on the campaign trail, I only ever stay at business hotels myself.”
“I reserve this sort of thing for special occasions,” I said.
“Right. Now tell me, how the hell do I find the porn channels on this thing?”
In response, I switched off the TV. He didn’t protest.
“So?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Let’s hear why you dragged this old fart all the way here, shall we?”
“I have a…small personal favor to ask,” I began.
“Does a small favor warrant this kind of red-carpet treatment?”
“It’s just…something I’d rather keep out of the public eye, to prevent more rumors.”
“Go on, tell me what it is.”
I sat down on the bed and looked him in the eye. “I’d like to visit Legislator Wakamiya’s estate.”
“Wakamiya?” he said, surprised. “Why in the world…?”
“Again, personal business.”
“You hardly need my permission, surely! You don’t know his address?”
“Oh, I do.” And I already checked out what it looked like on the internet. If I had to guess, the property taxes alone cost more every year than an entry-level salary at my job. “But if I go there alone, I suspect they’ll turn me away at the front gates. Plus, if it turns into an argument, someone might report it, and I don’t want to bother the neighbors…”
“Then just ask for an interview or something,” he suggested.
“I can’t involve my company in this—I’m going there on purely private business. As an uninvited guest, however, I’m in desperate need of someone who can vouch for me.”
“So I’m your Trojan horse, is that it?”
“Yes, sir.”
He took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, then turned his eyes on me sharply, probing for something. “There’re two types of people you should never ask for a favor—politicians and the yakuza. That’s if you know what’s good for you.”
“I certainly wouldn’t ask the latter,” I said.
“His secretary’s a real nag, you know. I don’t wanna get in his bad books by bringing him trouble in a handbasket. What do I get out of this?”
“My gratitude.”
“What?”
“I will be deeply indebted to you, Legislator Eba. Nothing more.”
“Out of the question.” He shooed me away with his free hand.
“It would be improper to bribe you with money or services, wouldn’t it?” I said. “It would certainly be a violation of compliance with Asabi.”
“You said this is personal business.”
“Right, but I am still a newscaster there, after all.” I donned a smile. Knowing this grumpy grandpa, I was most likely better off confidently pushing my luck than any amount of begging and kowtowing. “But at the very least, I’ll pay for this hotel room.”
“Damn right you will! You’re the one who invited me here!”
“Yes, but I didn’t know you’d be sampling the entire minibar. And besides, you already owe me a favor, don’t you, Legislator?”
“Beg your pardon?” he asked.
“That debate I hosted gave you a massive popularity boost, and thanks to that, they made you a regular on that satellite TV show.”
“Now you’re out of your damn mind!”
I knew it. He’s having a great time arguing about this.
“Your precious Asabi pays peanuts for cultural commentators, kid,” he continued. “That money wouldn’t even pay the electric bill at my office. Now, if it was a cable show…”
I cut to the chase. “Admit it—you’re scared, aren’t you?”
“Of what?”
“Trust me, I know what it’s like to have someone you barely know try to introduce you to their ‘newscaster friend.’ It’s okay if you’re just not as close to Legislator Wakamiya as you let on.”
“I changed Homare’s diapers, stupid! And every time they forced a vote, Kai and I would team up and smack down anyone we didn’t like!”
“Really now…?”
“Tsk! Just you wait and see!” He reached into the folds of his kimono and pulled out an ancient flip phone attached to a lanyard; apparently, he wore it around his neck. “Lost this damn thing three times. Wife was furious. Since then, I keep it on a leash,” he explained as he dialed, possibly out of embarrassment. “Hello? Hey, it’s me. I drank a little too much, and if I don’t sober up somewhere, the ball and chain will lose her shit. Lemme swing by like old times, would you? I’ll be there in thirty minutes. See you then.” After that, he tucked his phone away and stepped into his sandals. “Let’s go.”
“Right now?” I asked.
“That’s right, I’m taking your bait. You’d better be eternally grateful, kid.”
“I am. Thank you, sir.” I rose to my feet and bowed deeply.
“Sloppy posture,” he scoffed.
And with that, we hastily checked out of the hotel.