Chapter 7

CHAPTER 2 A The Missing The Awakusu-kai of the Medei-gumi Syndicate was a gathering of professional gentlemen claiming territory all over Ikebukuro. You know the kind. Led by a man named Dougen Awakusu, they were a powerful faction within the Medei-gumi, and their name prompted fear and caution among not only the local police but also major businesses and the media. One of their lieutenants, a man named Shiki, was summoned to the Awakusu office early in the morning. Unsure what this was about, Shiki arrived at the office feeling wary—and when he reported in, he caught a stray bullet from a direction he would never have expected. “Missing, you say?” Shiki was sitting across an elegant wooden desk from a man seated in a leather-bound chair—the future heir to the Awakusu-kai, Mikiya Awakusu. “That’s right,” said Mikiya. “It’s been happening in our business territory, mostly among young folks.” Mikiya was the boss’s second son and supposedly the first in line to succeed, but some in the organization did not think highly of him. He had to be vigilant and avoid vulnerability. In recent years, it was becoming less and less common for organized crime to pass down leadership directly to their children. Mikiya’s brother, the eldest, had chosen an ordinary life for himself. So it was known that Mikiya was dedicated to this line of work. When people murmured that he was spoiled by his father’s favor, he crushed them. The current rivalry playing out was between him and another lieutenant named Aozaki. “From kids around fifteen to magazine writers in their twenties,” he said, making a bitter face. It took several seconds of careful contemplation before Shiki replied, “It’s the first I’ve heard. How many are we talking about?” “I don’t know for certain, but I’m aware of fifteen cases within the past month.” “…” Shiki mulled this over. He must be getting this information from a mole within the police. In that case, I should assume the number is accurate. And fifteen people disappearing certainly sounds like a lot… But then he reconsidered. The number of missing people recorded in the system varied from year to year. A general annual number for the entire nation of Japan was about eighty thousand. In a busy year, it could easily top a hundred thousand. Fifteen was not a lot in the big scheme of things. “Considering the population of Tokyo and the number of runaways and such, it’s not really that surprising, is it? Doesn’t seem worth raising a fuss about.” Of course, not every missing person simply vanishes off the face of the earth, and the majority of cases are solved after the missing person’s report is filed. “I mean, if these are kids, we could be talking about mere runaways… Er, begging your pardon, sir. Wasn’t referring to Miss Akane,” Shiki said, bobbing his head. Mikiya had a daughter by the name of Akane Awakusu. She had run away from home for several days two years ago as an elementary school student. “No, it’s fine. At first, I thought it was kids running away, too, like my daughter. But…” “What is it? You don’t think our company’s involved, do you?” “That’s exactly it. I mean, I want to believe we’re not, but from what I know, the police are suspecting our involvement with the string.” “Why would they?” The Awakusu-kai was a criminal organization. Disappearing people was part of the business. But as far as Shiki knew, they weren’t in the habit of erasing ordinary citizens from the streets. If the magazine writer had gotten hold of some juicy nugget of info and tried their hand at blackmail, that would be one thing, but nobody had any reason to get rid of teenagers in school. Maybe if the Awakusu-kai were dealing drugs and the kids were bottom-rung sellers—but that was exactly the problem. The Awakusu-kai didn’t sell drugs as part of their business. Part of that was because the boss hated drugs, and part of it was that the powerful lieutenant Akabayashi especially hated drugs. Nobody in the group wanted to stick their hand in that fire. On the other hand, because they weren’t relying on the easy income of drugs, the Awakusu-kai had to lean more heavily on their local business, which made it tricky to avoid angering the populace of the city. So if there were rumors that the Awakusu-kai was involved in people going missing, that did not bode well for the group. Understanding at last why Mikiya was grimacing, Shiki gave the problem his renewed attention. The leather chair creaked as Mikiya readjusted his position. He asked Shiki, “Do you know about the Headless Rider?” “…” “You do, don’t you? The courier that you and Akabayashi hire from time to time.” “Well, yes. But the rider’s been out of the business lately,” Shiki admitted. Mikiya continued, “I understand that Akane knows the rider as well. I’ve heard her mention that.” “Yes, the Headless Rider helped us when the young mistress ran away from home.” “I’m going to be direct with you. Who is the Headless Rider?” Mikiya demanded, his eyes narrowing. “I assume it’s not truly headless, of course.” “There’s no head, sir.” “…What?” “It’s difficult to believe, but it’s the truth,” Shiki stated. Mikiya smacked the desk. “This is no time for bullshit, man!” Most people would have shriveled up in the face of his anger, but Shiki remained cool. Respectfully, he replied, “Sir, you of all people should know that I am not the type to speak bullshit at moments like this.” “…” Mikiya clammed up. He had a point; Akabayashi might shrug off a question like that with a joke, but Shiki was not such a man, and Mikiya knew it. That still didn’t make it any easier for him to accept his answer. “But…wait. Wait a minute. If it has no head…then you’re saying it’s literally a headless rider.” “Yes. The Headless Rider is a headless rider. I understand why you’d doubt it, but I can introduce you sometime. Mr. Dougen is already aware of this.” “…Dad knows?” Now that he’d brought the name of the company president into it, there was no way Mikiya could possibly accuse him of lying. Not a single person in the Awakusu-kai would swear on Dougen’s name and tell a falsehood. Mikiya didn’t quite accept the answer, but he realized he wasn’t going to win further arguments. Somewhat awkwardly, he tried to move on. “…Well, we can discuss that later. I don’t care if the Headless Rider is real or just a stage magician. The real issue is that it might be involved in these disappearances.” “…Really?” “Yes. From what I understand…all the people who vanished were passionate fans of the Headless Rider.” “Uh…fans?” Shiki repeated, taken aback by that word. “That’s right. People who had an interest in the Headless Rider and were trying to track it down. From what I understand, these kids with big dreams have taken to worshipping it like some kind of pop singer… And the writer who vanished was working on some kind of scoop.” “But people like that have been around for years. Why now…?” “That’s what I want to know. I know there have been freelance journalists looking into the Headless Rider’s story, but this person’s the first one to actually disappear. The problem is, this story’s reached the Internet.” “Ah, I see. And so they’re also talking about connections between us and the Headless Rider, I assume,” Shiki added. Mikiya exhaled. He was clearly quite upset about all this, a vulnerable position for a major yakuza lieutenant to be in, but it was a sign of how much he trusted Shiki to let him witness it. He put his hands on the desk, fingers steepled, and looked Shiki in the eyes. “One of the people who went missing is a student at Akane’s new middle school.” “…” “I suppose Akane must be feeling responsible for what happened when she ran away. Apparently, when she heard about the rumors that the rider did it, she said, ‘The Headless Rider wouldn’t do that,’ and now she’s gone off searching on her own.” “Whether the Headless Rider is actually involved or not, that’s probably something you’d want to stop,” Shiki admitted. If the rider he knew was responsible for the disappearances, Akane was obviously in danger. Even though she would know Akane by appearance and position, if she was vanishing people left and right, something wrong was going on. And if the Headless Rider wasn’t at fault, that meant some mystery abductors were likely to catch rumor of Akane and put her through the same thing they’d done to the others. “I scolded her, of course. But you know what my daughter is like.” “That’s true. She might obey you in person, but she’d cook up some plan in secret.” “I can only imagine where she gets it…” “…” Brother Mikiya was like that when he was younger, too, thought Shiki, remembering how Mikiya had spurned Dougen Awakusu’s warnings and gotten into trouble in his youth. He chose not to mention that now. He was not clever enough to get away with teasing his superiors in person. Mikiya moved on. “Anyway, if you can get in touch with the Headless Rider, that would make things easy. Bring this guy here right now… No, wait. Not to the office or any of our other spots. Pick out someplace appropriate and see if you can get any information direct from the source.” “…‘Right now’ may not be possible, sir.” “What do you mean?” Mikiya asked. Shiki shook his head. “The courier’s stepped back from the business…and gone on vacation with that black market doctor.” “Vacation?” repeated Mikiya, confused. Shiki followed up with an explanation. “Forget the last month. The Headless Rider hasn’t been around in the past half a year.”