Saeko watched Torii hopefully.
“That will be fine,” the old woman assented.
Hashiba passed Torii a copy of the plans for the two-story house to give her an idea of the layout. In order for the video crew to capture her movements as she walked through discovering things in the home, they at least needed a general idea of the path she would take.
The layout of the home was typical. The two upstairs rooms were the children’s bedrooms. The kitchen and dining area came combined with the living room on the first floor, with the master bedroom and a guest room across the hallway. A standard four-bedroom home, it would have been ample space for a four-person family.
“Would you mind giving us an idea of how you’d like to move through the home?” Hashiba requested. “We’ll have two cameras accompanying you. One will focus on your face, while the other shoots what you’re seeing from the same angle as your point of view. Does that make sense?”
“Does that mean one camera will be ahead of me?” Torii asked. “I will move through the house in accordance with what sparks my interest.” She spoke slowly, enunciating each word.
Hashiba looked up at the sky and thought for a moment. “All right. If you see something that intrigues you, though, please don’t move too quickly. Can you be sure to give the cameras a chance to keep up with you?”
“Certainly. I’ll bear that in mind as I proceed.”
“I appreciate that.”
With those arrangements sorted out, Hashiba gave the camera and sound technicians their instructions.
As Saeko watched the exchange between Hashiba and Torii, a thought occurred to her.
Torii speaks like me.
Of course, that was neither here nor there. And naturally, Saeko wasn’t sure exactly how she sounded to other people. But various acquaintances, including Hashiba, had often remarked that Saeko’s manner of speech resembled that of someone far beyond her years.
“There’s a place in my neighborhood that serves really good Shinshu soba noodles,” Seiji whispered suddenly, interrupting Saeko’s thoughts. “I’ll take you there, tonight. My treat. Just you and me.”
Surprised, Saeko turned around quickly. Seiji’s face was full of wrinkles even though he was only in his mid-fifties. His small, round eyes peered out at her from his puckered face and blinked frequently. It was clear that he was doing his best to smile, but his eyes conveyed no warmth.
Unbelievable. He’s asking me on a date?
Saeko would have preferred not to eat with Seiji even if the rest of the staff were there too. Needless to say, she had no desire to be alone with him. Besides, she didn’t feel comfortable letting someone who was deeply in debt buy her a meal.
“I’m afraid I have a dinner meeting with the rest of the team tonight,” Saeko gently turned him down. In fact, there was no official plan for that evening, but it was more than likely that things would turn out that way.
Seiji widened his eyes, like a chicken hit by a peashooter. “What time will you finish?”
“Finish …?”
“We can meet up after your dinner meeting.”
Seiji wasn’t taking no for an answer. Saeko shuddered. “I’m not sure exactly what time we’ll be through, but I imagine it might be quite late.”
“I don’t mind. That’s fine. I’ll wait for you if it takes all night.”
“I really couldn’t trouble you to do that.”
“It’s no trouble. You really shouldn’t worry about other people so much. You should do what you want to do, and come and have soba noodles with me. Really, you’re being too formal.” As Seiji spoke, his hand reached for Saeko’s shoulder, but she twisted out of the way.
“I’m afraid it just won’t work out tonight,” she said with an exaggerated grimace. It wasn’t easy to evade a person who interpreted everything the way he wanted.
Seiji’s hand fiddled with the keys in the pocket of his tracksuit pants, and their jangling issued from the area near his crotch. He was probably fingering the key to the front door of the Fujimuras’ house.
It was as if the jingle were meant to say, If you want to get into the house, young lady, you’d better do as I say.
Saeko squinted — the afternoon sunlight was bright. They had been standing in the shade of the house’s eaves, but as the sun sank in the western sky, its rays now shone in her eyes.
She made a visor with her hand, shielding her eyes as she looked up. The days were short at this time of year, and the sun was sinking quickly towards the horizon. She remembered the weather forecast predicting that it would be cold that night. At this rate, it might start getting chilly even before sunset.
The sun’s rays shone on the upper floor of the house too, reflecting in its windows. There were two upstairs rooms, both children’s bedrooms. Inside the windows, the curtains were open, allowing ample sunlight to stream in. From the time she was here before, Saeko remembered the upstairs sash windows being locked, with the lace curtains drawn closed. Today, though, they were tied back at the sides of the windows.
I’ve been in this house before.
When she’d come in the summer, she hadn’t discovered any clues but had been struck by a strange sense of familiarity. For some reason, the entire house had triggered a wave of nostalgia akin to revisiting one’s childhood home.
When I was here last, he guided me through the house.
“Right this way,” Seiji had said, standing extra close to Saeko as he’d escorted her through the curtained rooms.
“Saeko, there’s no need to be formal with me.” Seiji had called her Kuriyama, but now he’d switched to using her first name. As the jangling keys brought her back into the present, she suddenly became aware that Seiji was brandishing a single key in front of her face. The key lay on Seiji’s open palm, which he was now thrusting almost right into her nose. “Here, take it,” he said.
Saeko plucked the key from his hand, taking care not to touch any part of his skin. “I’ll have one of the staff members return it to you later,” she promised.
“Don’t bother. It’s a spare. Go ahead and hold onto it,” Seiji offered.
The mere thought of entertaining the kind of relationship with Seiji that involved him giving her a spare key sent a wave of revulsion through Saeko that almost made her faint. Nonetheless, she wasn’t about to refuse the offer. A spare key to the Fujimura residence was a powerful asset. If they needed to come back and film again, she might be able to get into the house without even dealing with Seiji.
Saeko dropped the key into her purse. She would have preferred to wrap the key in a tissue first, but that wasn’t an option at the moment.
For the second time, Saeko crossed the threshold of the Fujimuras’ home.
As the front door opened, the smell of earth and leather shoes wafted out. All houses have a unique smell, just as people do, but it was especially strong here. Saeko hadn’t noticed it as much the last time, but today when the door opened and the air from inside enveloped them, she found herself covering her nose with her hands.
Shigeko Torii paused in the front entryway, staring at the welcome mat at the threshold where they would step up after removing their shoes. Saeko and Hashiba watched quietly from behind, being careful not to get in the way of the cameras. In the shoe-removal area just inside the door, two pairs of acupressure sandals were arranged neatly side by side in contrast to two pairs of children’s sneakers that lay scattered messily nearby. Just under the ledge, Saeko also spotted two pairs of dusty traditional wooden sandals. There were two pairs of each type of shoe — the acupressure sandals, sneakers, and wooden sandals — but no leather shoes or women’s pumps in sight.