Page 1 of Secrets & Sake

Chapter 1

Achill runs down my spine as the smiling face of a young woman looks back at me from her own missing-persons’ poster. Pity squeezes in my chest. Though I didn’t know her, Himiko Nakamura looks like a kind and lovely person from her picture alone.

Tearing my gaze away, I walk until I reach the end of the street. Where was her house again? I check the messages on my phone. Right. On this street, but to the left. I pass more posters of Himiko’s smiling face, like she’s begging me to help find her.

I will. Definitely.

After I climb the steps of an apartment building, I walk along the balcony until I find the right apartment number. I double-check the number is correct, then buzz. I lift the edges of my mouth into a polite smile while I wait.

“May I help you?” The woman standing in the doorway regards me with wary confusion through her tired, red-rimmed eyes. The puffy state of her cheeks and nose suggests she was crying before she answered the door.

Chest squeezing with pity, I smile to reassure her. “Excuse me, but are you Aiko Nakamura?”

“Yes,” she answers slowly, sniffling.

Giving a bow, I say, “Nice to meet you. I’m Jinta Onodera. I’m with Jiji Shimbun,” I hastily say to clarify when she continues to look confused.

She lets out a gasp. “Oh, yes! I’m so sorry. I’d completely forgotten you were coming.”

“No problem!” Clearing my throat, I add, “I have some questions about your daughter, Himiko. I’m investigating her disappearance. I’d like to write a story to raise awareness.”

“I… I appreciate it. Thank you.” Her voice wavers as she steps aside to let me in.

Relief whooshes from my lungs. I was really hoping she wouldn’t have changed her mind, though I would’ve understood why. It can’t be easy to talk about this stuff with a stranger. “Thank you so much. And here. For you.” I present her with a small box of cookies I bought on the way over. It would have been impolite to show up empty-handed.

She accepts them and lets me in.

“Pardon the intrusion.” I step inside after her. In the vestibule, I exchange my outdoor shoes for the pair of hallway slippers she offers me and follow her further into the house.

“Please have a seat,” Nakamura says, heading into the kitchen. “Would you like tea? I have matcha.”

“Yes, please.”

The apartment is small and cozy with pictures hanging on the walls. There are pictures of baby Himiko with chubby cheeks, being embraced by a younger version of Nakamura. In another picture, an older Himiko celebrates her graduation. I don’t see any to indicate Nakamura had a partner. Looks like she was a single mom who adored her daughter and did right by her. Envy gnaws at me. I had two parents, and even combined, they aren’t even half the parent Nakamura was—is.

Nakamura carries steaming tea to the table, and we sit. Thanking her, I take a cautious sip. The tea warms my stomach as I set out my notepad and pen. “Those are nice pictures. I went to the same university.”

“Really?”

I nod. “What did she study?”

Nakamura pulls her trembling lip between her teeth, gaze falling to her teacup. “She wanted to be an engineer. She had started dating this wonderful man. This week, she was supposed to go to an interview.”

I make a note. “Sounds like she was really going places.”

Until she’d disappeared, like so many others. The victims have nothing in common, not age, not gender, and they aren’t even from the same neighborhood. The only commonality is that they were married, engaged, or at least dating someone. Some are foreigners, while others are Japanese citizens. There’s seemingly no motive. People go missing all the time, but this isn’t right.

“When was the last time you saw Himiko?”

Nakamura exhales shakily. “She was going out with some friends to the Blue Lotus. I told her not to go there. Everyone knows that the club is owned by the Namikawa-kai.”

At this, my heart skips. This is it. The connection I was hoping for. The Namikawa-kai is the biggest yakuza organization in Tokyo. They operate primarily in the Taito Ward, where they have a headquarters in Asakusa. Their leader is Kensuke Namikawa, one of Tokyo’s richest, most powerful men.

“And? What happened when she got there?” I fight to keep my tone neutral, my heart pounding to escape my ribs.

“Her friends said she caught the eye of this yakuza.” Anger tightens her features. “Himiko is non-monogamous, so it wasn't unusual for her to flirt with other men. They danced together, and she left the club with him. That was the last time anyone saw my daughter.” With a trembling hand, she wipes away a sudden rush of tears.

Anything could have happened to Himiko. The yakuza have been known to traffic women and children. Wetting my dry lips, I ask, “This yakuza she left with. Who was he? Do you know?”

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