CHAPTER THREE: Achtung Baby/Back to Morioh – Part 3

Sanjo returns from the kitchen after a few minutes. Josuke can’t help but feel like a breeze has come in from the back of the house, as Sanjo sits down at the armchair. “I used to rent out rooms in this house. Your mom came to me in the middle of the night, looking for a place to stay. This was in… 1997. April 1st. I figured it was a prank, but then she pulls out a wad of 500-yen bills. She was desperate, and she was scared. So I… took pity on her, I guess.”

The old man pauses to light up a match and apply it to his over-sized pipe.

“She was young, couldn’t have been more than 18,” the old man resumed, talking through his teeth, “And she was a strange one. Always polite, sure, but she was quiet. Almost mute, in fact. All the same, she was a good kid. Worked for her money, paid her rent on time, cleaned up after herself. And polite, like I said.”

He paused again to take a drag from his pipe. The cinders in the calabash flared, then died as he exhaled. Smoke poured out the side of his mouth like a Victorian coal engine. He tilted his head to keep the smoke out of his guest’s eyes, but the scent of the smoke still made the hairs in Josuke’s nose stand up.

“Things were fine, but they started getting complicated. At that time, I had a… business partner. A friend, name of Jouga. A big guy, real friendly-type. We knew each other from a while back, used to live in the same neighborhood, outside of Tokyo.”

“What was your business?” Josuke asks, wrinkling his nose against the acrid smoke. The old man pauses and looks at him. Shizuka looks over too, frowning. “…If you don’t mind me asking,” he adds, his tone level.

“…We owned a couple warehouses. Holding cargo for merchant ships. That’s not important. The point is, Jouga and the girl… well, putting it bluntly, they took one look at each other, and they could hardly keep their hands off. Beg your pardon, Miss.” He gestures apologetically to Shizuka.

She waves her hand limply, muttering something like ‘it’s fine.’ Then, clearer, “So, then, your friend. J-Jouga, he was my…?”

Sanjo nods, removing the pipe from his mouth in the regular motion. “He would be your dad… Now, you should understand. There was a major age gap between them. He was almost twice her age. But they had something that was really special. He loved her, I can say that much. Doted on her, every moment he could. If you’ll let me be blunt again, it got in the way of business in a bad way.” He chuckles to himself, crossing his arms.

Josuke didn’t like the sound of that at all, as he scrutinized the old man. Shizuka meanwhile, looked as she waited on his breathe.

“When you were born, ahh… that day was the happiest day of Jouga’s life. I suspect there wasn’t a happier man in all Japan. Maybe the world. As for her, well… she was as quiet as ever. Ladylike, I suppose. I never could tell what she was thinking, but I can tell you that she never took her eyes off you for the first month. Jouga would complain to me how she wouldn’t even give him a chance to hold you. I think, in her own way, she loved you more than anything in the world. More than Jouga, even.”

The old man smiles then, meeting Shizuka’s eyes. She sits stock-still, her mouth clamped shut as if sewn up, her eyes not even twitching.

The perceived happiness from Sanjo’s face left soon, though. It would only be replaced by an expression of sadness and dread.

“And then… then, it happened…”

Shizuka’s brow furrowed. “W-what?…”

Then there is a loud CLICK from the kitchen and Josuke nearly jumps out of his seat.

“Ah!” Sanjo exclaims, “that’ll be the tea. I’ll just, uh, go get that ready.” He pulls back into his chair, and makes to rise out of it, movements slow and doddery.

“Oh, let me help you!” says Shizuka, snapping out of a daze.

“No need, no need!” replies the old man, waving her back into her seat. “If I can’t serve my own guests tea, what am I, then? You just wait here, I’ll fetch it for you.”

He shuffles out of the room and Josuke and Shizuka are alone again.

“Isn’t this great, Josuke!” Shizuka declares to her brother. It’s not a question.

“Ah… I guess…” he replies, watching the door where the old man exited.

“What do you mean, ‘you guess’? Don’t you realize how amazing this is? Of all the houses we could have come to, we ended up at this one! It feels like we’re already halfway to finding my mom already! This has to be fate at work!” Her eyes glitter with delight.

“I don’t know about that. He hasn’t given us a name, or an address, plus he left right in the middle of his story. Not to mention… the old guy himself seems kind of… odd.”

“Josuke, don’t be rude! He brought us into his home and telling us what he knows. Besides, he’s a senior-citizen living all alone, he’s allowed be eccentric.”

“Shizuka…”

“What’s your problem?” she demands, raising her voice, “Isn’t this what we came here for?”

Taken aback, Josuke argues, “Yeah, it is, but I’m just saying we shouldn’t be too quick to trust someone that we’ve just met.”

“Trust? That makes no sense, Josuke. What reason would he have to lie to us?”

The policeman’s glowers at his sister, and says in a low tone, “I don’t know, but somehow… I know he’s not what he seems.”

She means to ask him what he means, and then she freezes in place, her eyes gouging out of her head. Josuke stares at her, then realizes that he can’t breathe. He coughs once. Clutches at his throat. Coughs again. Tries inhaling, sucking in air, but it does not reach his lungs. As if something is clogging his airways. There is a foul taste on his tongue, like something burning. Like…

Like tobacco.