Business As Usual

I find myself staring down a small staircase that descends down into an alley, notably, the alley leading to the venue at which Hikari will be performing tomorrow. A small neon sign of a cat flickers at me as I take a mental note of the location of The Boxed Cat within the city.

When the Moon rises to give me its blessing, I begin my investigation by visiting the izakaya as the site of the crime or at least a site that was close in relative proximity to the site. However, to my dismay, I arrive to find that the izakaya is no longer there. Glancing between the buildings beside it, I verify that I’m in the right location, yet standing before me is a small bakery. Despite this unexpected turn of events, I rudely barge in uninvited with Restless Spirit to take a look around for any traces of evidence that might be helpful to my case.

I meander through the shop, gazing at some of the goods on display as though I were casually shopping, though I constantly remind myself to search for any crevices or remnants that might strike me as odd. Turning my attention to the cabinets behind the reception counter, I find some unrelated documents, keys, and accounting papers. I put everything back into its proper place as I restock some cash from the cash register while I’m there before moving on into the staff room.

Phasing through the door, I find myself in a small office furnished with a desk, a locker, and a computer. I inspect the walls and ceilings of the room to find no faults again and turn my attention to the locket and the desk cabinet. Phasing my hand through the locker, I flick the lock open to find two aprons and uniforms and a broom, and similarly opening the drawer, only unrelated documents and a photo of a young couple with a small child around the age of three greet me. With a defeated sigh, I return the cash back to the register on my way out.

I navigate my way over to the company office where I worked next as the Moon continues to guide me through the night. Despite the slight changes in the city structure, I manage to arrive at the office building without too much trouble. Entering the old office, I feel a sense of dread sink into my heart as the environment consumes me once more. I look through each employee’s personal files one by one, yet nothing but boring work documents remain.

Finding my own old cubicle, I notice that it's been redecorated and carries traces of use by another person. I suppose I should’ve expected that, but it still stings to see the environment that I’d made my own over the course of a decade has been desecrated and repurposed. The chair, however, is still the same, so I take a seat and lean back to relive a time I had a smile to go home to.

I take a deep breath and lean against the desk, resting my head on my hands as my efforts proved to be futile. I’m not quite sure what I expected. I’m no detective or some sort of private investigator, so it’s not like I had any directives or experience in solving murder cases. What was I thinking, investigating a three-year-old murder case on my own? I bury my face deeper into my hands and massage my scalp in frustration. How am I going to prove my innocence like this… If only there was some sort of record to prove that I wasn’t at the site of the murder when it happened. Record… Some sort of record…

I perk out of the chair as a revelation baffles me. When I took that train that day… I used my IC card to board… Doesn’t that mean… Shouldn’t there be some sort of record of the transaction of the train ticket? There has to be some sort of record either on the bank’s end or the train station’s end proving that I purchased a ticket there at a certain time, thus clearing my name. How was this not brought up in the original trial?

I sprint out of the office building and take a look at the Moon to estimate the time. It doesn’t look like the Sun’s rising anytime soon, and I doubt I’d be able to somehow hack into the computers of the bank or train station to find any records by myself tonight. I’ll have to just wait until tomorrow when I can ask the clerk to pull up the record for me. Returning to an empty hotel room to stay the night, I can’t help but wonder just how the Osaka police are currently searching for me.

Those disturbing thoughts wake up early in the morning after a rough and restless night. Tossing around in the bed a bit, I fail to return to sleep, so I scream into the pillow and get along with my day with some makeup. Considering that the bank will likely ask for my identity for my account info and find out that I should be in prison right now when I ask about transaction records, I leave for the train station instead. Unsurprisingly, the train station is rather empty two hours before the first train, but luckily, I find an operator working in a booth watching a morning news channel on a small TV in the corner.

“Good morning, sir.”

The man turns to me from the TV and raises an eyebrow. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

“I’m here to inquire about some records. I bought a train ticket using an IC card, and I’d like to know the exact timestamp of the transaction please.”

He turns and begins typing away at the keyboard. “What’s the card owner’s name?”

“Um… Sorry, but is that absolutely necessary?”

He stops typing and turns to me again, shooting me a strange look. “I’ve got millions of transactions in here, sir. I’m afraid I won’t be able to narrow it down without one.”

I sigh and pray, tensing up as I give the name. “Ishiguro Asahi.”

He doesn’t seem to react to the name and type it into the computer, furrowing his brows at the results. He begins typing again. “Huh, that’s strange. It says the last transaction was over three years ago. That can’t be right…”

I start to panic a little and try to stop him before he looks too much into the account. “No, no. That’s right, sir. Now, can you please tell me the exact timestamp of the last transaction?”

The man turns his furrowed brows to me instead. “Who are you?”

“Please, sir. I just need the timestamp, and I’ll be on my way.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything until you identify yourself and explain why you’re looking for this timestamp.”

“It really doesn’t matter who I am. Please. I’m begging you. Just tell me the timestamp on that transaction.”

I watch and panic as he slowly reaches for a phone, phasing my arm through the screen of the booth and grabbing his collar. “Listen here, okay? You’re going to tell me the exact timestamp of the transaction unless you want my hand firmly gripping onto your heart instead of your collar.”

He shakes, his eyes rapidly switching between the arm phasing through the screen and my face. With a gulp, he nods and turns to check the transaction. “It says the transaction occurred at 7:13 in the evening.”
“I see… And if I was that far away from the scene at that time, then that means I shouldn’t have been able to…”

The man seems to blink at the screen. “Huh…”

“Huh?”

“N-nothing!”

“What?”

“T-there’s a note attached to the transaction.”

“Well, what does it say?”

“It says, uh… It says that the transaction record was handed over to the police three years ago as well.”

I slowly release my grip on the man as my brain tries to unravel that information. What? The record was already presented to the police back then? Wha– Then why? If the police already had this record back then… No, that’s impossible! How could they… If they had clear-cut evidence that I was innocent… Unless… No… There’s no way… They wouldn’t knowingly prosecute and convict an innocent man, right? Right? I mean, that has to be a mistake, right? Or was there no hope from the start…? Was there no point in all this effort trying to prove my innocence? Was it rigged from the start?

The man turns his attention to the small TV in the corner of the booth again as I follow suit to find my face on it. The reporter on the news channel speaks. “Forty-one-year-old man Ishiguro Asahi has been reported to have escaped from Osaka Prison. Ishiguro was an office worker charged with and convicted of the murder of a colleague around three years ago.”

I gulp as I make eye contact with the man again, and I can see the realization in his eyes. I grab the phone on the counter before him and phase it through the screen, breaking it before I sprint off. Fuck! Now they’ve got a trace of me. I need to get out of here and find somewhere to hide until the coast is clear. I take a turn into the first small alleyway I can find and catch my breath.

Calm down, Asahi. Calm down. Osaka is an extremely large metropolis, and the streets are filled with crowds from day to night. I just need to blend in. I just need to blend… Fuck! Fuck it all! I bang my head into the brick wall as everything starts going to shit again. There’s no hope… There’s no hope anymore. I’ll be a wanted man for the rest of myself. I have to get out of Japan. I just need to not get caught until I attend Hikari’s show. Then, I’ll stow away on the next ship out to start a new life in another country, and maybe after some time, I’ll be able to reconnect with Hikari somehow.

I quickly pace along dark alleys until I reach far enough from the train station and locate a cheap love hotel. They wouldn’t search a place like this, especially when it’s this far from the train station. I phase my way into a room, immediately hit with a scent of smoke and sadness. Ugh. Well, I can at least stake out here until evening. I should be able to blend into the Osaka nightlife enough to reach The Boxed Cat without being caught then.

Biding my time, I stare at the analog clock and listen to the clicking of its hands as it reminds me of all the time I’ve lost and all the seconds I’ve counted. In my imagination, I run through all the things I’ll say to Hikari once I see her again. I’ll be able to tell her how sorry I am for everything that’s happened. I’ll be able to show just how hard I’m trying and just how much I care. I’ll be able to hold her again, and… And then I’ll have to say goodbye… And I’ll tell her to wait for me. I’ll be there for her… eventually.

When the clock strikes seven, I head out and shuffle into the streets of Osaka. Following the mental map towards The Boxed Cat earlier today, I walk amongst the crowds of others indulging in their own pursuits. The flickering neon sign of the cat greets me again, now shining much brighter in the night. The tingling returns to my palm as my heart beats, and I descend the stairs.

As soon as I descend the stairs, I phase into the wall and use it as cover to shuffle past the lady out front checking for tickets, reemerging in a corner of the small venue. I see around ten other people in the room, waiting for Hikari to come on stage, and the atmosphere consumes me. The nerves seem to all disappear as I take a seat and truly relax for the first time in forever, a smile resting comfortably on my face.

The lights dim, the music starts, and I watch the stage in anticipation. A spotlight flashes down, illuminating her before a mic. I lean against a desk as the smile expands on my face. She’s grown so much since I last saw her. I try to hold back my tears as she begins singing, her voice much more mature than I remembered, and I watch as she starts dancing in that costume of hers like should’ve done so long ago. For a moment, we make eye contact, and she smiles back at me, my heart skipping a beat.

The crowd claps when the first song finishes, and after the cheers settle, Hikari speaks into the mic. “Hi, everyone! Thank you all so much for coming to my first performance. My name is Hikari, and–”

Suddenly, the lights come back on, interrupting Hikari’s self-introduction. She looks just as confused as everyone else in the room as we turn our attention to the entrance to find the police standing there. I carefully scan around the entrance again and spot that shithead of a lawyer with the cops. Kouta, you snitching fuck! Everything was going so well! He notices me staring at him as we make eye contact, and I watch him point to me for the police. I have to act fast.

Assessing my situation, I weigh my options. Seeing as the police are already here and blocking the exit as a chokehold, I bite my lip as I contemplate the phasing into the walls around me. No, that wouldn’t work. The venue is at a lower altitude than the rest of Osaka, and if I phased into the wall, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to ascend to the surface. I turn and look at the confused Hikari. If I can’t escape this situation, then maybe if I could just tell her everything I’ve wanted to say… Anything I’ve been so desperately meaning to convey… Maybe if I can just hold her hand again, then just maybe, it’ll have made this all worth it. I take a deep breath and gulp.

As the buzzing red light of the neon cat sign on the wall flickers, I begin sprinting towards Hikari. Time seems to dilate as my body breathes in the electric atmosphere. I hear Kouta shout out, “No, don’t shoot,” as one of the police officers fires his taser gun at me. Almost instinctively, I dematerialize my form with Restless Spirit to let the taser pass through me, but as I look down at the taser in my body and up at Hikari, I realize that its trajectory is headed right for her if it passed right through me. It’s like I’m a pinned piece in some sick game of chess!

I close my eyes and suspend Restless Spirit with the taser still passing through my body, letting out a tormented roar. The taser lodges itself into my intestines, the wires piercing through my back and sending electricity directly into my organs as I fall to the ground convulsing, Hikari still in my sight and just out of reach. She’s even more beautiful in person.

She looks down at me with an expression of fear and shock, holding herself and quickly backing up. Those eyes meet again with mine, yet they feel empty. That look she’s giving me with those eyes… Those glowing brown eyes… They’re for someone she doesn’t recognize.