Together, they walk towards the city. On their way, the pair are stopped by about a dozen people, mostly old folks greeting Sergeant Higashikata with a parental pride. He greets them back, and introduces them to his kid sister, visiting from the States, and they look at the girl with the painted face and hair, and he feels the looks they give her, like a grinding ulcer in his gut. Soon, they reach a more unfriendly area…

“Hey, cutie,” whistles a teenager in a leather leaning against a bike rail, “loving the ganguro look!”

“I don’t know what that is, but thank you!” Shizuka replies, waving chirpily.

Josuke shoots the kid a look that sends him scuttling, then frowns at his sister. She asks, “What?”

“Nothing…”

Perhaps it was karma, after all. When he and Joseph discovered her, in 1999, an invisible baby crawling about a remote area of Morioh, they were at a loss with what to do. It had been a good idea to use foundation make-up to make her transparent flesh visible.

But whatever the circumstances, the fact remained that they had applied make-up to an infant girl, and something about that was just wrong. Now it seems Shizuka never wore that off…

“Shizuka, I need you to listen to me for a second.”

“Hmm? What’s up?”

He stoops low and speaks in a confidential voice. “This neighborhood we’re going to is pretty close to where we found you, not to mention there were a few missing persons reports from around this area.

“Actually, there were more than a few. In 1999 alone, over half the missing people case in Morioh were reported from this neighborhood. You get what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“I… think so.”

“Let me make it crystal. This place might look innocent enough, but make no mistake. This is a dangerous place, filled with a rough crowd. Stay on your guard, understand? And stay close to me. This isn’t a place that takes kindly to policemen… or strangers.”

Then, the policeman casts a look at his surroundings, and his sister does the same. And only then does she seem to notice the people watching them. The women whispering behind their hands. The children stopping their play to watch their every move. He hears her swallow. He nods, satisfied that she understands.

They walk the rest of the way in silence.

They stop in front of the house marked 30-3, and Josuke checks his notebook to confirm the number before knocking twice, light but firm on the front door. After two minutes, the door opens up a crack and a wizened eye peeks out. A weak and tempered voice speaks.

“…Please, I’ve lived here for 20 years, I never had no trouble with the police. If you’re here looking for something, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

“There’s no trouble. This isn’t official police business, more of a personal matter.”

“Then why wear that fancy uniform?”

“…It’s good to keep up appearances. I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine.” He steps a bit to the side, presenting his sister. “This is Shizuka, she’s with me looking into a case from…” says Josuke, and then something heavy drops from behind the door and the wizened eye goes wide.

The door closes shut. From inside, the scraping of several locks. Then the door swings open and an old man hobbles out, with skin like old paper and silver hair poking out in tufts beneath a baseball cap. “Incredible,” the old man croaks, staring into Shizuka’s face with wonder.

“Uhm… have we met before?” Shizuka asks.

“Yes,” replies the old man, still staring. But then, his expression softens. “And no. It was a long time ago. You wouldn’t remember. But still… my god, you look just like her, don’t you?”

Shizuka says nothing, balling her hands into nervous fists.

“Hold on,” Josuke cuts in, “are you saying… you know who this is?”

The old man nods. “Unless I’m completely wrong, the last time I saw this young lady was a little over 18 years ago. 18 years ago…”

“Incredible. There’s no way. No coincidence is this crazy!” Josuke declares.

“If you prefer, you might call it fate.” The old man dodders, turning around, going on, “you must come in, in any case. Please, I insist. We clearly have a lot to talk about.” As he turns, the girl catches his wrist, and Josuke swears he sees something change in the old man’s being, something passing over him that changes his face, but only for an instant, and his back is to him and he can’t say for sure.

Once they’re inside, the old man bows to his guests, properly introducing themselves. “Please, allow me to introduce myself. You can call me Sanjo. Please, have a seat.”

Shizuka immediately takes her seat on a long couch, adjacent from an armchair. Josuke takes a moment to place himself next to Shizuka, who promptly bows in return.

“Thank you for having us, Sanjo-san! My name is Shizuka.”

Sanjo smiles warmly, “A beautiful name…”

“Did you know her?” Shizuka asks, a pleading in her tone, “Did you know my mother?”

The old man sighs, a nostalgic look on his face. “Yes, I did. She lived with me for over 2 years.”

Shizuka seems to forget to breathe for a moment.

The old man makes his way out from the living room, towards the kitchen. “You’ll want tea, of course. We have cookies if you want them. You can go ahead and make yourselves comfortable while I boil the water, and then we can talk. I hope you don’t mind I smoke.” The old man produces a pipe from some secret pocket, a great, curving, polished calabash, and presents it to them with a collector’s pride.

“It’ll be just a moment…”

END OF CHAPTER TWO