Coda I

“I knew I’d find you here. How’s it going, Elio?”

“Hey boss.”

The ice in Reiko’s cocktail clinked. It reflected the colors of the oak wood countertop. Her fingers circumnavigated the precipice of a tall glass. She gazed at the condensation and wiped it on a napkin.

“You look like you’ve been stabbed in several dozen places,” Kazuo said.

“I was stabbed in several dozen places.”

“Like I said, I have spare clothes in the back,” said the bartender. “When you have a moment, go put them on. You’re going to scare away my other customers.”

“They think it’s hot,” Reiko downed the drink. “Another.”

“This is your last one,” Elio warned.

“Arataki called,” Kazuo said. “He congratulates us on a job well done.”

“That’s not what he told me when he ambushed us.”

“It’s politics,” Kazuo shrugged. “The Commission wants to say they had a hand in solving a famous case. Who cares who gets credit? What matters is we got the bastard.”

“We didn’t get him,” Reiko shook his head, “and that thing he summoned is still out there. You don’t seriously think the mages at the Commission can catch it?”

“Just leave it alone–”

“Something’s not right,” Reiko snapped. “I saw Natsuko, Kazuo. I heard her voice. The incantation used to summon that thing was almost the same one that I used on Natsuko that night. Except this one worked. And now they’re telling us that a bunch of amateurs are going to handle it? Seriously? If that’s her–”

“I think you should stop for tonight.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Reiko snarled. “I saw what I saw.”

Elio returned to the counter with a fresh highball. Kazuo waved him away.

“Natsuko’s been dead for ten years, Reiko,” the old man said. “Let it go.”

“She died on the same night as the Brideskiller’s disappearance,” Reiko muttered.

“In Tokyo, over a thousand kilometers away,” Kazuo said. “We’ve been over this.”

“It can’t just be a coincidence.”

“If it’s not, then prove it. Show me right now. Do you have proof?”

Reiko did not respond.

“Look, unless you have proof, drop it. I need you and the rest of the team ready for tomorrow,” Kazuo said, “provided we still have a team tomorrow.”

“...What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t pretend not to know,” Kazuo frowned. “I reviewed the footage, Reiko. You shouldn’t have tested them like that. Fujimoto’s going to quit.”

Reiko threw back her head and laughed.

“No he won’t.”

“He won’t?”

“Hotshots like him don’t quit,” she muttered. “Their pride doesn’t let them. He’ll be the first in the office tomorrow. Just you wait.”

The section chief sighed. He placed a hand in his coat pocket and fetched out a leather wallet.

“He won’t be first in the office tomorrow,” he said, laying a plastic card on the table. “You will. Elio, I’ve got her tab. Don’t give her anything else.”

“You got it boss,” Elio shrugged at Reiko. “Sorry, Rei. You know the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Reiko pushed her empty glass away. “Water’s fine.”

Postwar American jazz syncopated on the vinyl that Elio had set up at the end of the counter. The bar was filled with warm orange light. The bartender liked it that way. It was better than the murky colors of the incantation named after him.

Reiko surveyed the lounge. There were no more than a half dozen people sitting at their own booths surrounded by yellow stained paperbacks. It was an old place. Elio’s father had opened it decades ago.

There were several regulars. There was a woman, for instance, in a doctor’s coat, with square glasses, a plastic pen, and too many papers bursting from a stack of manilla folders.

Reiko couldn’t be more disinterested. She slid out of her seat.

“I’m going in the back,” she said. “Where are the clothes?”

“In the closet,” Elio called after her. “Your water’s on the counter.”

Reiko returned a few minutes later, dressed in a fresh blazer and slacks. Elio kept spares for her, just for days like this.

She scanned the bar again. This time, she spied a cute little thing. Nervous, uncertain, their fingers tapping on their table for a date that had stood them up.

She downed her water. It was cold. On nights like this, Reiko wished it was even colder, colder than the depths of the ocean or a ravaged lunar sea, where no fire, not even the one that burned eternally in her heart, could survive.

“Hey,” Reiko approached. “My name’s Ayane Shirosawa. It’s nice to meet you.”

Thus I Burn Eternally - END