Saeko thought that Hashiba’s tone sounded distant, dreamy; it was as though he was describing some feverish dream. “We’ll be right there. But I won’t be able to stay long,” she told him.
“How come?”
“I’m going to go back to the Fujimura house in Takato.”
“Takato? What for?”
“It’s where you found my father’s notebook. I’m sure there’s something we overlooked. Do you remember exactly where you found it?”
“On the first floor, in front of the altar in the main bedroom.”
Just as she suspected. When she’d stopped off at Kitazawa’s office on the way, he’d shared his theory that her father had met — and traveled with — Haruko Fujimura during his visit to Peru and Bolivia. He must have given her the notebook himself.
But this was Saeko’s private business. It had nothing to do with the program, so she decided there was no need to explain it to Hashiba. Even if she’d wanted to, it would’ve taken too long.
“Well, make sure you come and see this first.”
“Of course. I’ve got to bring Dr. Isogai to you, after all.”
Hashiba laughed, “I guess so. Is the professor with you now?”
“He ran off to the toilet as soon as we arrived.”
“What’s he like?”
“I think I’ll leave that for you to decide …”
“Sure. Come as fast as you can.”
Hashiba hung up the phone and looked at the time, trying to work out the route to Takato. Saeko would have to take the bullet train to Tokyo and change to the Chuo Line, or she could change to the Minobu Line from Fuji. Whichever route she took, it would be dark before she arrived. Hashiba couldn’t fathom what could have caused her to suddenly decide to go back there, especially alone, at night. That place had felt strange even in the middle of the day, even with the crew; he remembered feeling cold the whole time. Was it just his imagination — knowing, as he did, that it was the scene of a whole family’s sudden disappearance — or was there genuinely something creepy about the place? He didn’t know.
A series of images from the house flickered through his mind: the empty beer glass, contents evaporated; the toothbrushes he couldn’t bring himself to touch directly; the wart-like flecks of toothpaste on the sink; the matted hair in the drain. He remembered the remodeled floor of the bathroom, covered in mold. Bits of dead skin turned to dust. His mind’s eye traced through the corridors of the house like a camera, reaching and entering the main bedroom, stopping before the photograph adorning the Buddhist altar. The photograph of the family’s deceased grandfather, with his bald pate and watermelon face. His skin was wrinkled but had a shiny, reptilian luster. The face bore a stunning resemblance to that of Seiji Fujimura.
Hashiba shook his head. No, he couldn’t understand why Saeko would want to go back to such a place, especially alone. He wondered if perhaps she was too strong-willed for him after all. Her behavior amazed him. At the same time, there was something about her strength of spirit that he found difficult to resist.
Saeko and Isogai emerged from the restaurant at the base of the gardens and began to climb one of the paths towards the Soga Shrine where Hashiba and Kagayama were waiting for them.
Isogai was in good shape, taking easy, measured strides up the path. His movements were fluid and athletic. Saeko followed a daily exercise regimen and was confident of her physical fitness, but there was no way she could keep up with his pace. Predictably, he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the fact that she was falling behind. He just raced up the hill, muttering under his breath to himself all the while.
Although Saeko knew that it was impossible to try to understand the character of someone she’d just met, she did her best to make sense of Isogai’s. It already seemed clear to her that he had two distinct sides: one where he seemed completely indifferent to those around him, and one where he assumed an unnerving familiarity. Right now he appeared to have forgotten that Saeko was with him. Not purposely, she suspected — he simply didn’t notice.
She decided to test her theory and came to a full stop halfway up a set of log steps. She looked up, watching and waiting. The area was completely silent, and there was no wind in the still branches. The moment she stopped walking she realized she was already sweating, and she felt uncomfortably hot. Despite the fact that it was already getting late in the day the air didn’t feel the slightest bit cold.
Isogai didn’t seem to have noticed her stopping. He continued up the steps and the distance between them quickly grew. Saeko bent forward, placing her hands on her knees. She took a few deep breaths of the fresh park air.
When the distance between them had grown to around twenty meters, Isogai came to a sudden stop, finally seeming to have sensed that no one was following behind. He turned straight around and, seeing that he had left Saeko alone, started to hurry back down the steps, moving at almost a full sprint. His slim black trousers and leather jacket gave Saeko the impression of a bat flying down out of the sky. The smooth rhythm of his steps suggested a history as an athlete, although Saeko couldn’t remember anything of the sort in the file. He stopped beside her, putting a hand around her waist.
“Are you all right?” Something about his look was so intense that Saeko found herself pulling away again. It seemed that he had the habit of coming closer than was comfortable.
“I’m fine, just a little tired.”
“I did it again, didn’t I?” He looked up at the sky in an exaggerated swing. “I’m sorry, really. Sometimes I just get lost in my thoughts. It’s this habit I have; I just forget that there are people around me. I don’t notice until someone points it out to me. I try to watch out but … Let’s just say it’s a steep learning curve.”
His tone was deeply friendly and earnest. Saeko was glad to see that her analysis had been correct, and she decided to be more tolerant of him in the future. “That’s how it should be, your job is to think after all,” she assured him. After all, she had a strong innate respect for people that took thinking seriously.
Isogai blinked, wide-eyed, then laughed, rubbing his head and propping up the collar of his jacket. He looked quite pleased with himself. “Do you want to rest and chat for a while?”
Saeko knew that Hashiba was still waiting for them at the shrine. “We’d probably better hurry, the others are waiting for us. Maybe we can talk while we walk?”
With that, she started back up the steps. Isogai tried to match his pace to hers but the effect was rather awkward. He started to joke about the time he’d spent working for the military facility. He seemed like a different person, as though he’d reassigned himself as her entertainer.
“You know the Pentagon is already using technology they developed based on analysis of captured UFOs. The stealth bomber, for one. Optical communications, another. We even have aliens held captive underground. They work as advisors for the government.
“Another fact: the aliens are DNA-based life forms, like us. Think about it. That means that, given the right circumstances, the creation of life is almost inevitable. They’re about a meter high with big heads, no hair whatsoever — just like me. You know the facility introduced Steven Spielberg to one of the aliens to help him put together a movie. You might have heard the rumor before. Do you know the film?”
Isogai asked this with such a good poker face that Saeko couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“So have you seen these aliens?” she asked back.
Isogai laughed and waved his hand back and forth. “No, no, these are all just urban myths — no such things as aliens. At least, I’ve never met one.”