Page 58 of Secrets & Sake

“Hello?” I ask, voice clipped.

“Jinta. How are you?” My father’s voice is cold and clinical, even after five years apart. Clearly, absence did not make the heart grow fonder, as my father would actually have to have a heart for that saying to have any ounce of truth. “Did you get my text?”

“I did. You didn’t have to call me.” I lean on the sink and try to make myself be nice. “I actually need to go to work soon.”

“Oh, yes. Work.” He practically sneers the word. My blood pressure starts to rise. “Are you too busy to spare some time for the people who raised you?”

Surprisingly, I do want to see my parents. I want to see them so I can rub my success in their faces. Maybe I’m not where I really want to be in my career, but I moved to Tokyo all by myself, and I’m surviving all on my own. I bet they want me to beg for their forgiveness, to see me suffering without them.

If that’s the case, they’ll be disappointed.

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

He grunts noncommittally and hangs up.

This is going to be a bad idea. Nothing good ever happens when my family and I are in a room together.

By the time I get off work, the sun is starting to go down. As I walk toward the subway through the park, I check my messages and freeze in my tracks. I’ve got a DM from Yuki’s granddaughter, Ami. She wants to meet so we can talk about her grandmother’s experience. This is perfect.

Ami: Yuki is feeling better than usual today, so this evening would work.

Me: Wonderful! On my way! :)

After a quick detour to my favorite bakery around the corner from my job, I run to catch the train and ride the Chiyoda line to Yoyogi-Koen Station in Shibuya. Ami’s grandmother is a resident of an assisted living home. When I arrive, I take the elevator up and search the halls until I find the door with Yuki’s name on it.

Ami answers when I knock. “Come in, come in! Grandma, he’s here.”

Yuki’s room is small but cozy. There are paintings on the walls and framed photos of Ami, as well as a handsome elderly man I assume was Yuki’s husband. On the faded yellow sofa sits a woman with thinning silver hair and thin hands gripping onto a cup of tea. Her eyes are cloudy and unfocused when she glances in our direction.

Bowing, I say, “Thank you for having me. I brought these cookies for you. I hope you like them.”

“Thank you, dear. How sweet.”

“Would you like tea, Onodera?” Ami asks from the little kitchen, separated from the living room by an island counter.

“Yes, please.”

Once Ami has brought tea and plated up the cookies, we gather around. I sit in an armchair beside Ami while Yuki remains on the sofa. Ami puts the plate in her grandmother’s hand. Yuki runs her fingers over the plate, then finds the cookie and takes a bite.

“These are delicious,” Yuki says.

“I’m glad you like them. They’re my favorite.” I take a bite myself, enjoying the bitter matcha flavor combined with the subtle sweetness of the cookie.

“You’re a… reporter?”

“Yes, with the Jiji Shimbun. I’m investigating the disappearances for a story.”

Yuki’s almost-translucent brows furrow. “Disappearances?”

“People have been going missing since January. They are very similar to the abduction you experienced. I’m worried there’s a copycat, taking inspiration from what happened back in 1924.”

Hand shaking, Yuki drops her cookie onto her plate. “O-oh dear…”

“I know it may be difficult, but anything you can share with me about your disappearance is greatly appreciated.”

Ami touches her grandmother’s hand. “It’s okay, Grandma.”

Taking in a slow breath, Yuki is quiet for a moment. Finally, she nods. “Very well.”

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