much attention when Chie didn’t come in. She had left early the day before, looking unwell and saying she might take the next day off. She didn’t answer when I phoned, so I assumed she was asleep and decided not to bother her with any more calls. After closing up that night I bought some groceries,
udon
noodles and scallions and things, and went to check on her. She lived in a small studio apartment a couple of minutes’ walk from the train stop at Nabata.
The windows were pitch black and she didn’t answer when I knocked on the door as usual. It didn’t worry me, as I still thought she was probably just asleep.
I’ll never forget the way that feeling slammed into me, of everything collapsing around me, when I used the spare key to open the door.
The room was totally vacant. The familiar curtains were gone, as were the bed, table, and cutlery. The thin veil of darkness seemed to insinuate that the room had always been that way.
I kicked off my shoes and stumbled a few steps inside. I wonder how long I sat crumpled and dazed in the middleof the floor that had been laid bare from corner to corner. I couldn’t process any of it but the question looped through my mind all the same, like something mechanical:
What’s going on? What the hell is going on? What’s going on? What the hell is going on?
I searched for over a month, neglecting work completely. I tried the real estate agent that managed the room, but they didn’t have her new address. All they told me was that she had paid the early termination fee in full before moving out. I went back to the studio apartment block a number of times, speaking to her neighbors on either side first, then to everyone else in the building, but I didn’t gain any useful information. I couldn’t even find a single person who had shared more than polite greetings with her.
Time and again I went back to bars and pubs we had visited together. As I sat there drinking alone I was unable to stop myself from turning around and checking the door as though she might just waltz in at any moment with an impish grin on her face.
That was when it dawned on me that when it came to specifics, I knew next to nothing about her. Our conversations had always focused on the future of Shaggy Head, what our future selves would be like. I had been blind when it came to anything else.
I knew she was an only child, and I knew her parents lived in Okayama as we had been talking about going there so she could introduce me, but she never told me their actual address. I had no idea about the kind of relationships she’d had before, what her friends were like, the details of her old jobs, or what she liked to do when she was alone.
Just a couple of weeks before she disappeared, I’d agreed to loan her some money after she’d begged me: two million yen, the whole of my savings. Chie had told me that her cousin had embezzled ten million yen from her workplace and that she was now facing criminal charges unless she could scrape enough together from friends and relatives and return it in full.
Ms. Hosoya had seemed distressed, too. She had called the college listed on Chie’s resume, even the local ward office for anything that might have listed a new address. The college turned out to be real, but they wouldn’t release alumni names to unrelated parties, and the ward office refused to let anyone but the person in question examine records. Ms. Hosoya grew more and more despondent, as she had doted on Chie like a daughter. I think she might have suspected Chie of making off with the money, of having approached me in the first place for such a purpose. It was understandable, considering how things had unfolded.
But I couldn’t believe it. That wasn’t the sort of woman Chie was. I still didn’t believe it, and even if I never saw her again I probably wouldn’t until the day I die. After having held her trembling body in my arms so many times, my body continued to scream that it was absolutely
udon
noodles and scallions and things, and went to check on her. She lived in a small studio apartment a couple of minutes’ walk from the train stop at Nabata.
The windows were pitch black and she didn’t answer when I knocked on the door as usual. It didn’t worry me, as I still thought she was probably just asleep.
I’ll never forget the way that feeling slammed into me, of everything collapsing around me, when I used the spare key to open the door.
The room was totally vacant. The familiar curtains were gone, as were the bed, table, and cutlery. The thin veil of darkness seemed to insinuate that the room had always been that way.
I kicked off my shoes and stumbled a few steps inside. I wonder how long I sat crumpled and dazed in the middleof the floor that had been laid bare from corner to corner. I couldn’t process any of it but the question looped through my mind all the same, like something mechanical:
What’s going on? What the hell is going on? What’s going on? What the hell is going on?
I searched for over a month, neglecting work completely. I tried the real estate agent that managed the room, but they didn’t have her new address. All they told me was that she had paid the early termination fee in full before moving out. I went back to the studio apartment block a number of times, speaking to her neighbors on either side first, then to everyone else in the building, but I didn’t gain any useful information. I couldn’t even find a single person who had shared more than polite greetings with her.
Time and again I went back to bars and pubs we had visited together. As I sat there drinking alone I was unable to stop myself from turning around and checking the door as though she might just waltz in at any moment with an impish grin on her face.
That was when it dawned on me that when it came to specifics, I knew next to nothing about her. Our conversations had always focused on the future of Shaggy Head, what our future selves would be like. I had been blind when it came to anything else.
I knew she was an only child, and I knew her parents lived in Okayama as we had been talking about going there so she could introduce me, but she never told me their actual address. I had no idea about the kind of relationships she’d had before, what her friends were like, the details of her old jobs, or what she liked to do when she was alone.
Just a couple of weeks before she disappeared, I’d agreed to loan her some money after she’d begged me: two million yen, the whole of my savings. Chie had told me that her cousin had embezzled ten million yen from her workplace and that she was now facing criminal charges unless she could scrape enough together from friends and relatives and return it in full.
Ms. Hosoya had seemed distressed, too. She had called the college listed on Chie’s resume, even the local ward office for anything that might have listed a new address. The college turned out to be real, but they wouldn’t release alumni names to unrelated parties, and the ward office refused to let anyone but the person in question examine records. Ms. Hosoya grew more and more despondent, as she had doted on Chie like a daughter. I think she might have suspected Chie of making off with the money, of having approached me in the first place for such a purpose. It was understandable, considering how things had unfolded.
But I couldn’t believe it. That wasn’t the sort of woman Chie was. I still didn’t believe it, and even if I never saw her again I probably wouldn’t until the day I die. After having held her trembling body in my arms so many times, my body continued to scream that it was absolutely
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