“Let me ask you just one question,” he said to me a few minutes later as the taxi was driving us over. “That really was Homare’s son I saw the other day, wasn’t it?”
After a moment of hesitation, I admitted it. “Yes, sir. When I spoke to him about it, he said he recognized you, and he regretted not having the chance to catch up with you.”
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” he replied in a surprisingly gentle tone. “I figure he’s got a lot going on, just like Homare did when he was that age. Everybody’s got a lotta shit on their plates, don’t they? Just depends whether they can stomach it all.”
“…Right.”
The stoplights ahead of us turned green in sequence, starting with the farthest and progressing steadily toward us. It felt like I was headed to Ushio’s house, but then I remembered that the whole building was gone now. My chest ached. Still, I knew I was better off having met his grandmother and learning the whole story. And now I was going to get him back.
“Here.” Eba offered me a piece of candy with Kyou-chan’s warped, ugly mug on it.
“What’s this for?”
“When you see a kid on the verge of tears, you give him candy. That’s the rules,” he said.
“…I’m not going to cry.” Nevertheless, I gratefully accepted the candy and crunched it into dust in my mouth. Crafty old coot. “Do you have any kids, sir?”
“Two sons, five grandkids.”
“Neither of them became politicians like you?” I asked.
“They told me they’d rather die. After they saw the hell their mother went through, it’s only normal that they’d wanna spare their own wives the misery. I couldn’t exactly argue with that, could I?”
“So you’ve accepted it?”
“If they don’t wanna do it, what else can I do? ’Sides, we don’t have some kinda ‘family legacy’ like the Wakamiyas—I’m just a guy who showed up one day. Oh, hey, pal, could you pull over right about here? Much obliged. And can I get a receipt?”
We got out of the car about a block from our destination. From there, Eba walked briskly along the tall, roofed tsuiji fencing until he reached the majestic sukiya-style front gate. After a beat, he pressed the button on the intercom.
Good lord, could you ask me if I’m ready first?!
No one answered, but the wooden gate slowly slid open; then, once we were through, it slid shut and audibly locked itself behind us. For a traditional Japanese house, this place was surprisingly high-tech. As we walked up the long cobblestone path leading to the front door, the sensor light came on, revealing a front garden that was clearly well-maintained, even to an amateur like me. I could hear Grandma Tsuzuki’s voice in my head: a totally different world from us.
The front doors, though large enough to accommodate a horse-drawn carriage, were not similarly automatic. Eba twisted the handles and flung them open.
Behind them, a man stood in the entryway. “I cannot allow this, Legislator,” he told Eba, disregarding the other man’s casual wave without so much as a smile.
So this is the naggy secretary.
“Don’t be such a square, Saijou,” Eba said. “Where’s Homare?”
“In the middle of a meeting. After your sudden phone call, he sent me back here without him.”
“Gotcha. Then I guess I’ll wait around.”
“By my estimate, you don’t appear to be drunk, not in the slightest.”
“Hey now, you really gonna leave an old man out in the cold? How will you ever sleep at night knowing I froze to death because of you?”
Saijou didn’t humor him. “And who is this?” he asked with a glance in my direction. The look in his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.
“Oh, him? New secretary-in-training. Thought I’d bring him by to introduce him. Hope you can show him the ropes.”
“…Well now,” Saijou replied.
“C’mon, let’s not have the whole conversation at the front door, shall we?”
“Says the man who dropped in with no warning. I repeat—I cannot allow this, Legislator. I don’t know how you and your ‘secretary’ know each other, but I must ask you both to leave.”
Rejected with cold indifference, Eba slowly stroked his chin…and when he next spoke, his voice was like steel.
“You know, I’m surprised. Not that long ago, you were a clueless rookie who didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. Now you think you can talk to me like you’re a big shot?” Eba’s angry-man television persona couldn’t hold a candle to the sheer thunder with which he growled. “Is there some special reason this kid can’t come in?”
“Of course not.” Saijou sighed dramatically. “Right this way.”
There was no sign of Ushio anywhere to be found, but since the house was so huge, he might not have heard us.
We were then directed to a European-style lounge room, but no sooner had we sat down on the sofa than Eba shot back up onto his feet again. “You know, I should pay my respects to the deceased. Me and Kai have a lot to catch up on, see. Oh, and we won’t be needing any refreshments, thanks.”
I couldn’t tell whether he was intentionally removing himself or merely chasing a whim. Nevertheless, Saijou and I were left alone in the room together. He was the first to break the silence.
“Have I seen you somewhere before?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.” I shrugged casually.
“That reminds me, I never got your name…”
I cut him off. “Your acting sucks.”
“…I beg your pardon?”
“I said your acting fucking sucks.”
Then, I rose to my feet and took a deep, deep breath, consciously filling every last corner of my lungs. I needed my voice to reach him.
“GET THE HELL OUT HERE, DADDY’S BOY!!!”
I screamed so loud, the glass rattled in the display shelves. There was an immediate flurry of footsteps, and a moment later, the door flew open so hard I thought it might fall off its hinges. Lo and behold, there stood Wakamiya Junior-Junior.
See? I knew he’d hear me.
“What are you—h-how did you…?”
I ignored him and turned back to Saijou, who stared blankly at me in shock. “Allow me to introduce myself,” I said with a smile. “My name is Kunieda Kei.”