“Shogo’s father was a senior of my dad’s in medical school. I owe a lot to that man too, though,” the doctor said. He seemed to be well-connected, and the following day, that is, yesterday, he arranged their escape from the country. “Shogo had me hold onto some money just in case of an emergency. We’ll use that.” They would first take a fishing boat from a small fishing village in Wakayama Prefecture into the Pacific Ocean, and then transfer to another boat in the Democratic Nation of the Korean Peninsula. “You won’t have any problems getting from Korea to America. It’ll be the transfer from that first boat that’s going to be hard.” The doctor voiced his concern, but Shuya and Noriko really had no other choice.
Noriko called home before they left the doctor’s house today. She first called a close friend from another class, having her relay a message to her family to call the doctor’s house from a payphone. It was a precaution against wiretapping. Shuya left Noriko alone for a while, but he could hear Noriko’s sobbing from the hall where the phone was. Shuya himself didn’t contact the Charity House. He thanked Ms. Anno and bade her goodbye in his heart. He did the same with Kazumi Shintani.
The reporter continued, “Due to the Defense Forces helicopter’s dispersal of poison gas over Kagawa Prefecture’s Okishima Island, where this Program was held, the inspection of the site was delayed. However two days after the incident, the inspection was finally held this afternoon. We now know two students are missing.”
The image changed. A zoom-lens camera from sea captured police officials and soldiers inspecting the island where Shuya and the others had fought for their lives. There were piles of corpses. For a split second, Shuya managed to make out two bodies. There were Yukie Utsumi and Yoshitoki Kuninobu, on the edge of a black pile of school coats and sailor suits, facing the camera. Despite the dispersal of poison gas, their faces managed to stay unharmed because they had died indoors. Shuya clenched his right fist.
“The missing students are Shuya Nanahara and Noriko Nakagawa, third-year students of Shiroiwa Junior High School in Kagawa Prefecture.” The screen now displayed large closeup photos side by side. They were the same photos used for their student I.D. cards. Shuya shifted his eyes, but no one in the crowd staring at the screen seemed to notice them.
The image of an empty coast right beside a mountain appeared. As the camera zoomed in, a small military-colored patrol ship which had run ashore appeared, and was now being examined by police officials and soldiers on the beach. This segment was shot immediately after the incident became known, so it was less recent.
“On the early morning of the twenty-fourth, the Kagawa Prefecture Program Instructor Sakamochi’s patrol ship was found on the shores of Ushimado-cho in Okayama Prefecture. Instructor Sakamochi and nine Special Defense Forces soldiers, including Private Tokihiko Tahara were discovered along with the Program’s winner, Shogo Kawada.” Sakamochi’s closeup photo appeared. He had long hair. “Suspecting there was a conflict, the police and Defense Forces officials proceeded to investigate. Authorities now believe the two missing students from today’s report may provide the crucial link to the incident. They are currently searching—”
The reporter continued, but Shuya was too preoccupied with the following to listen.
It was a short clip subtitled, “Winner Shogo Kawada— Found Dead.” Under normal circumstances, they would have only shown a generic subtitle, “Male Student Winner,” and the short segment would have only been broadcast on the Kagawa Prefecture local news. Shuya and Noriko watched the news at the Kobe doctor’s house several times, but they only showed Shogo’s photo. This was the first time they saw this clip.
Held between the soldiers, Shogo stared into the camera. Then—
At the end of the clip, which lasted approximately ten seconds, he grinned and raised his right fist with his thumb pointing up.
The crowd staring at the screen sounded dismayed. They probably thought Shogo was proud about his victory.
But of course that wasn’t it at all, Shuya thought as he watched the screen return to the image of the reporter.
Was it a message to him and Noriko? Did he already know he was going to die when he stood in front of the government camera? Or was it just a display of his unique sense of irony?
I’ll never know. Just as Shogo once said.
Then Shuya and Noriko’s closeup photos were displayed again.
“Any sightings should be reported to—”
“Let’s go Noriko. We have to hurry,” Shuya whispered. He took her left hand with his right hand. They turned away from the screen and began walking.
“Shogo told me,” Noriko said as they walked, holding hands, “before you came back… when you were with Yukie’s group, he told me something.”
Shuya tilted his head and looked at Noriko.
Noriko looked up at Shuya. Her eyes covered by the brim of her hat were moist. “He said he was glad to have such good friends.”
Shuya looked up and nodded. He just nodded.
They let a group of six or seven students pass by, and then they started walking again. Shuya said, “Noriko. We’ll always be together. I promised Shogo.”
Noriko seemed to be nodding.
“For now we escape. But some day I’m going to tear this country down. I’m still keeping the promise I made to Shogo. I want to tear it down for Shogo, for you, for Yoshitoki, for everyone. Will you help me when the time comes?”
Noriko squeezed Shuya’s hand and replied assertively, “Of course, I will.”
They departed from the crowd. They stood in front of a ticket dispenser. Noriko looked up at the display above the ticket machine, took out some change, and counted it out. Then she stood in line in front of the ticket machine to buy their tickets.
Shuya stood still, waiting for Noriko’s turn to come. It came immediately. She put the coins into the coin slot.
Shuya casually looked over to his left.
He squinted his eyes. There was the entrance to the station concourse, and he could make out the Osaka high-rise district, just beyond the road where taxis and cars were passing each other. A tall, uniformed man emerged from this background, heading straight towards them. He skillfully dodged the flow of pedestrians and made his way toward Shuya.
It was a policeman’s uniform. There was a gold peach insignia shining at the center of his cap.
With his right hand Shuya slowly reached for the Beretta M92F tucked in the back of his jeans as he looked for an escape route. There was a road at the entrance opposite the policeman. If they could get there, they could grab a cab—
Shuya whispered to Noriko, who returned with their tickets, “Forget about the train, Noriko.”
Noriko understood. She quickly turned and opened her eyes wide after seeing the policeman.
“That way,” Shuya said. The policeman came running at them.
“We have to run, Noriko! Run as fast as you can!” he said. As they dashed out, Shuya thought, hey, doesn’t that sound familiar.
He glanced behind him. The police officer held out his gun. Shuya pulled out his Beretta. The officer shot immediately. BANG BANG. Two sweeping shots, but luckily no one in the crowd, including Shuya and Noriko, was hit. There were cries though, as some fell to the ground for cover, while others—having no idea where the gunfire came from—scattered in random directions. The officer, his gun down, ran toward them again, but then crashed into a fat woman carrying groceries, and clumsily fell. The woman fell too, and her bag of vegetables for dinner tumbled and slid on the floor.
That was all Shuya saw. He was looking ahead now.