YUKUE

First Incident

     Her hands stiffened as she clenched a piece of paper firmly in her palms. A vacancy had burrowed its way into her train of thought, neutering her mind. Looking down at the words, they appeared illegible and foreign to her. Suddenly, she began to feel like a stranger in her own body. Nothing ever made sense anymore.

“With your employee’s discount, you’ll only be required to pay 30%.”

     She gazed up at the man, clad in a white jacket as he stood across the opposite side of the counter. Flanked by equally white walls on either end. The sterile atmosphere felt suffocating.

“Tsumi-san, be sure to stay consistent with these, okay?

     Although she had a skill for filtering out the words of others on command, the bag sitting before her abated her attempts at ignoring her own reality any further. Mirai Tsumi was marked clearly across the top of the label. Hesitantly scanning her phone at the payment kiosk, she swiped the bag and made a straight line for the exit. Still standing behind the counter, the man let off a tired sigh as Mirai vanished from his sights.

     It was just past noon, and the city was as busy as ever. Vehicles lined up behind one another as wary pedestrians bobbed and weaved through traffic. Children piled on top of one another as they stood mesmerized by the holographic images that plastered every store front. As everyone went about their day, fighting to keep pace with the evermoving world around them, Mirai found herself proceeding forward in slow-motion.

     Clutching the bag tightly in her hand, she fished her phone out of her pocket and tapped on the name Yukue.

     As the phone rang on and on, she pulled her face from the device in astonishment. “That’s weird,” she whispered to herself.

“I got what you told me, although I still don’t think it’s necessary.

Anyways, I’m heading over to your place now, so I’ll see you there.”

     Sending the message, she then flagged down the nearest taxi and made her way inside. “Where to?” the driver asked, “Inagi,” she stated solemnly. Peeking through the rearview mirror, the cab driver injected, “I don’t get many passengers heading in that direction.” With a nonchalant visage, she glanced at the driver through the same mirror before shifting her eyes to the side window. “Yea, I’m sure you don’t.”

     After about a 15-minute drive, the taxicab pulled up in front of a home with a modern style facade. Clad with a unique blend of refined wood finishes and glass, meeting one another with black brushed metal trimmings and complemented by a minimalist garden before it.

“Alright! You’re good to go milady.”

     “Thanks,” she returned as she stepped out through the car door, now facing the art piece of a home in front of her.

     “Mam…” the driver called out to here. “Are you sure this is where you need to be?” he asked with an aura of confusion emanating from his voice. “Yeah,” Mirai calmly replied with her eyes squinted, “here is fine.”

     As the tires drudged down the road, the environment fell eerily quiet. The atmosphere felt… still.

     Placing her palm on the sensor, the gate eased open, and Mirai stepped her way down the path before her. Reaching the front door, a wave of hesitation clawed over her skin as the oddity of the moment grew into an uncomfortable sensation. Normally she would let herself in, but today she opted not to.

With one push of the doorbell, she waited.

…

No answer.

     She pulled out her phone and checked her messages, which were still unread. Despite knowing it wasn't a reason to worry, she couldn’t help but to feel uneasy.

     Unlocking the door, she stepped in through the doorway and into the foyer. “Yukue!” she called out, but yet again, no answer. Panning her eyes across the scene in front of her, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Everything was in place. Furniture was intact. Objects seemed to be as they always were. Nonetheless, there was an anxious feeling brewing in the pit of her gut. As she peeked down below, she spotted a pair of shoes at her feet. Reaching towards the closet to the right, she swung the door open and confirmed that all the other shoes that she’d known her sister to own were there. Is she still somewhere in the house?

     Mirai slowly closed the front door as she stepped into the home and began analyzing the area. She proceeded tepidly, but surely. She paid attention to everything from top to bottom, careful not to miss even the slightest clue. She navigated her way from one room to the next, from the kitchen to the bathroom, the bedroom, and eventually finding her back in the living room.

Nothing.

     There was nothing. Nothing that stood out, seemed unusual, or just worth taking note of. Everything was normal…

     Pressing on, she made her way towards a room at the backend of the house. A room that her sister always kept closed was the last place left unchecked, filling Mirai with a pillar of anxiety as she stepped closer. Wrapping her fingers around the handle, she twisted the knob, only to struggle with getting the door open. Why would she need to lock the door? Mirai worryingly thought. But after shuffling the knob a few times more, she suddenly heard the door click, and with it, the door eased its way open.

     Stepping through the door she entered a space that felt much less modern than the rest of the home. A wooden floor with a pecan hue helped the room feel warm and earthy, while the thick lacquer coating spoke of a person fixated on maintaining a pristine environment. Antique styled furniture accented the traditional bookshelves that lined the walls on either side. An auburn-colored rug was placed centerstage, right beneath a desk situated in front of a window that stretched from corner to corner. The slowly setting sun cast long shadows of the outdoor garden through the window that landed at the tip of Mirai’s feet.

     Standing over the desk, she peered down at a pile of red origami paper. Repeatedly alternating kanji lined each sheet one after the other. Mirai lightly ran her finger over the paper as she led her eyes from character to character, frustrated with herself at her inability to read what was written. Why would she be practicing such unusual kanji? Mirai thought as she shuffled through the pile.

     Reaching for a piece of paper further separated from the rest, she noticed the last stroke unusually dragged all the way off the edge of the page. Following it with her eyes and now staring at the floor, she began swiveling her head left to right as she searched the ground beneath her, discovering a pen sitting just underneath the desk.

     Gripping onto it, scenes of her sister being hauled from her seat flooded her mind. The pen slipping from her sister’s hand as she fought to free herself. But why wouldn’t she have tried to use it as a weapon to stab the intruder instead? she questioned as the images played on in her head. Struggling to break away she pictured Yukue kicking the chair…

No, she concluded, as the chair didn’t seem out of place.

     As the playback continued, she followed the theoretical intruder dragging Yukue around the desk and towards the door. The lamp sitting at arm’s reach was still where it’d always been, unscathed. The rug was unbothered. No ruffles, or even the slightest shift from its position. Books still rested in place on the shelves. No scuffs or scratches on the walls, floors, or furniture…

     Now standing back in the doorway and facing towards the room once again, Mirai toiled with the reality that there just weren’t any signs of a struggle. As the seconds passed and her mind churned, she made one final consideration. Yukue had been sedated. Sneaking in from the garden and through the window…

A possibility…

     Perhaps the details were still to be figured out, but one thing she felt sure of nonetheless was that her sister was not safe.

     As Mirai turned to exit the room, she eyed a bag leaning against the foot of desk. She’d never known Yukue to carry one like it before, and figured she’d likely used it for work. Opening it up, she found a tablet placed inside, which was again, something she’d known known her sister to carry.

     Immediately Mirai attempted to access the device but was disappointed to find out she couldn’t get through without an access code. It was a sinking revelation despite already being aware that Yukue likely only used it for work either way. Even if she could get inside, would there even be anything for her to find? Was she simply being desperate and irrational? Did anything even happen to Yukue begin with?

“Are you imagining things, Mirai?”

     The words oscillated through her eardrums making her feel sick to her stomach. The blood spread across her hands as she looked into the eyes of a man she couldn’t recognize. Her sense of reality wavering in and out. “Mirai, what have you done?” the voice cried.

Bam!

     With frustration boiling over the edge, Mirai threw her fist into the wall. The memory began to fade, and her mind became clear. She looked at the bag from the drugstore looped over her wrist, only just now noticing the mochi-shaped smiley face printed on its side. “What kind of childish shit is this?” she vented as she leaned her back against the wall, left staring at the hands of the clock hung across from her as time ticked on.

“So, what exactly comes across here as an abduction?”

     The detective, who had introduced himself as Detective Kawamura, stood sternly. His stature a few inches over Mirai’s as he languidly gawked down at her. “It’s just that… she’s missing!” Mirai tiringly failed to explain. Hardly moving from his position, the detective peered down the hall and lightly scanned the surrounding area. Glancing back at his partner, Detective Ura, who welcomed himself to a seat at the kitchen table, Kawamura then turned back to face Mirai. “You know it takes 24 hours for us to declare an adult missing. We’re only here because… well it’s a perk of the neighborhood.”

     “The fuck does that even mean?” Mirai decried in a tempered tone. “You know what, wait!” she then insisted as she began stepping in the opposite direction. “Just gimme a second.”

     Emerging from her sister’s office with the origami paper in hand, she eagerly presented it to the detective hoping to capture his attention. Lightly flipping the paper around, his intrigue slowly, but surely, began to dissipate. “She’s got pretty good handwriting,” he mentioned with an irony laced tongue, “yeah it kind of takes you back to your grade school days when they used to teach us kanji, huh?” he chuckled with a gesture towards Ura who was now fixating his laptop atop the kitchen table.

“I’m not joking.”

     The pointed edge to Mirai’s delivery slowed the detective down and immediately gripped the air. Kawamura folded the paper over and clenched it in between his fingers. Their eyes dug into one another and put them both into a paradigm shift.

“Mirai…?”,

“Tsumi!”

“Mirai Tsumi… hmm.”

“Huh?”

     A man most likely in his mid to late 30’s, Detective Kawamura didn’t dress up in the typical suit and tie that was expected of most detectives. He had fitted black chinos with mid-ankle boots. Up top he wore a dusty grey leather flak jacket, with the zipper pulled halfway up. He kept an untidy chin strap which helped enforce a more rebel look to his appearance. All the while, maintaining an unwavering sense of authority out of the two partners.

     He made another tempered glance towards Ura who dipped his own words into the uncomfortable bicker. “It’s just an uncommon last name, I’m sure you’re aware of that.” Kawamura then followed, “Or maybe you’re not, I guess.”

     Stepping over to his partner, Kawamura placed the piece of paper in front of him. “Any of this seem like the cry of an abducted young lady?” As he stood over the table, he looked at the computer screen through the corner of his eye.

Mirai Tsumi:

     Profile: SEALED

     “I don’t think so,” Ura returned. “Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” Stepping back over towards Mirai, Kawamura handed her the paper, but not without passing her an intimidating look; to which she reacted equally in unison. “No word from her by the end of the day, we’ll open an investigation.” With his hands clenched around his belt he passed a head nod to Ura. They both then made their way over to the front door while Mirai stood planted in the same position.

“Don’t go getting yourself in trouble now,” Kawamura iterated as parting words.

     The dimming sunlight shifting with the swinging door passed over Mirai’s irritated countenance before dissipating. Leaving her in the shade of a house vacant of conclusion.