Ogikubo Izakaya "Sugi no Ki" ~The Defeated's Revenge Score~ - Footsteps of the Sunset

Four days had passed since the Kuroda incident. The pain in his ribs still lingered. Every time Seiichi took a deep breath, a dull pressure ran across his right flank. He ignored it and continued his pre-opening preparations. He turned down the heat under the oden pot and wiped the counter with a cloth. The same motions. The same smell of the shop. Yet something felt different. Outside, it was already October. The air of Ogikubo had shed a layer, and the morning and evening chill had become genuine. Ten days remained until the Olympic opening ceremony. Shortly after hanging the noren curtain, a man entered. He was in civilian clothes. A gray suit and a drab necktie. Mid-forties, with deep facial features and distinct lines under his eyes. Not tired so much as the type of man who always wore such a face. Seiichi knew at a glance. A detective. The man sat at the end of the counter, looked around once, then spoke. "You're Sugiyama, correct?" "……Who are you" "Ando. Metropolitan Police Department. I've heard about you from Iwase at the Suginami branch office." Seiichi reached for a sake warmer, then stopped. The man knew his name. If Iwase had introduced him, his credentials were solid. Ando lowered his voice further. No one was in the raised seating area. No customers at the counter either. "A classified circular came down from headquarters to the Suginami branch. Information obtained by the Interior Ministry's Defeated Nation Management Official." Nothing on the table. He hadn't brought any documents. Everything was in his head. That alone told Seiichi how carefully this man was moving. "Operation Sunset. A sabotage plan by remnant forces of the former Allied nations, scheduled for the day of the Olympic opening ceremony." Seiichi's hand stopped. The cloth went still on the counter. ——New Liberty Council. The name Jack had spoken on that final night. "The target" "Reportedly the area around the National Stadium. But the details are fragmentary, and we haven't identified the perpetrators. All the Interior Ministry and headquarters have is the operation name and a rough target. That's it." There was no lie in Ando's eyes. There was urgency. Pure, inescapable urgency. This man wasn't trying to hide something and use Seiichi. He was genuinely troubled. "Why come to me" "I heard you have contact routes with foreigners. I'd like you to share information unofficially. Of course, I don't intend to put you at risk. But——" "I can't guarantee anything. I can't even say now whether I'll move." Ando fell silent for a moment. Then he gave a small nod and stood without saying thank you. Seiichi didn't move, cloth still in hand, until Ando's back disappeared beyond the noren. Ten days until the opening ceremony. The National Stadium. The New Liberty Council——it all connected. ＊ The next afternoon, Seiichi boarded the Chuo Line. He got off at Shinjuku and walked through the outskirts of Kabukicho. On the first floor of a mixed-use building, the sign for "Book House O'Brien" came into view. Beyond the grimy glass, stacked English books formed a wall. When he pushed the door, the smell of paper and dust came to him. Jack was attending to a customer. A white man holding a thick history book. The moment Jack saw Seiichi's face, his expression twisted. You could tell he was barely suppressing an obvious click of his tongue. Seiichi waited by the shelves. The customer set down the book and left. The door chime rang. Seiichi spoke. "Operation Sunset" Jack's movements stopped. Just for a moment. Jack moved away from the bookshelf and headed toward the back office. He gestured for Seiichi to follow. He closed the door. It was a small room. Stacked cardboard boxes, an old telephone, a rusted filing cabinet. Jack kicked back his chair and turned his back to the window. Tokyo's bustle came muffled through the glass. "Where did you hear that" "From a Metropolitan Police detective. Information the Interior Ministry obtained. Just the operation name and the target. The perpetrators are unknown." A long silence followed. Jack kept staring out the window. His thinning chestnut crew cut, the old burn scar on his left hand. You could tell something was weighing on that back. "……They're trying to direct the anger of their defeated homeland at Tokyo's Olympics." His voice was low. You couldn't tell if he was angry or exhausted. "I have no intention of adding further shame to my homeland. I want to stop the terrorism. But——I still haven't identified how deep the knowledge goes within the organization, or who the execution team is." Seiichi paused for a moment. "If we combine the information you have with my connections, we can move." Jack finally turned around. Muddy eyes looked at Seiichi through thick glasses. "I don't trust you." "I know. Neither do I." There was no handshake. Jack simply pulled his chair back and sat, and Seiichi put his hand on the door. Before he left, Seiichi turned back. "One thing. That memo had 'Vergiss nicht' written in German. Why German" Jack's hand stopped for just a moment. "……I didn't write that." The answer came too quickly. Too quick an answer was proof of thought. Seiichi said nothing and closed the door. ＊ He returned to Sugi no Ki before dusk. Regular customers came one by one, drank, and left. Two factory workers ordered highballs at the corner and talked on. Seiichi gave appropriate responses while polishing glasses at the end of the counter. Near midnight, the last customer left. Seiichi reached to put away the noren. That's when the noren was roughly pulled open from outside. The one-legged operative. He was wearing a coat. His right hand was in his pocket. The fabric of the pocket was pushed up from inside. The shape of a gun barrel. The moment Seiichi's eyes caught it, the man pointed the gun at him across the counter. Only two people in the shop. The man's face was expressionless. Mid-thirties to early forties. Nothing below his right knee. The prosthetic foot struck the wooden floor. His eyes, cold, looked at Seiichi. "Because you went sniffing around, two of my comrades were disposed of." His Japanese was perfect. Seiichi didn't answer. The next moment, the man tucked the gun back at his waist. He came around the counter. Before Seiichi could reach for the wooden sword, the man's fist came. Bang——. Heavy impact on the right side of his face. His vision went white for an instant. His body was slammed against the shelf. Two bottles fell and shattered. Glass scattered. Seiichi dropped to his knees. The man came from above. He placed his prosthetic foot on the fallen Seiichi's abdomen. Slowly, he applied his weight. The old wound in Seiichi's ribs screamed. No sound came out. His throat was crushed. Both of Seiichi's hands grabbed the wooden floor, but his body wouldn't lift. The man spoke in a quiet voice. "If you move again, I'll kill the florist woman." The pressure increased. Seiichi's vision drew closer to the concrete floor. The man kept his foot on him while turning his gaze to the back of the shop. Seiichi's detective-era toolbox was sitting outside the closet. The man kicked it. The wooden lid cracked and the contents scattered across the floor. An old notebook. A worn fountain pen. Investigation files. ——A single photograph slid out. A young woman and a small girl. Both smiling. The faded photograph stopped at the tip of Seiichi's blood-stained hand. The man withdrew his foot. "Your detective games are over." He passed through the noren and disappeared. Silence returned to the shop. Seiichi couldn't move. Broken glass from the bottles touched his cheek. The sensation of pressure still lingered on his abdomen. Seiichi's fingers reached toward the photograph. They stopped just before touching it. ＊ Stepping over the broken pieces, Seiichi got to his feet. Blood dripped from his right cheek. He grabbed the edge of the counter to pull himself up and reached for the telephone. He dialed Misako's home number. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. Seiichi held the receiver against the wall and dialed another number. Hana-yoshi——Misako's shop number. The phone rang. It kept ringing. No connection. He could see the wall clock. It was past midnight by fifteen minutes. There were several possible reasons why Misako didn't answer. She might be asleep. She might be out. But——the man's voice painted over Seiichi's thoughts. ——I'll kill the florist woman. He grabbed his jacket and tried to leave the shop. The moment he stepped into the alley, his knees buckled. He put his hand against the wall. His body wouldn't move. Pain came in waves from deep in his ribs. (I couldn't move then either.) Seiichi leaned against the wall, staring into the dark alley. The sensation of that night, shortly after the war, came back. The night he couldn't move. The night he couldn't protect. The two people in that photograph. Seiichi went back into the shop. He sat down beside the remains of the scattered toolbox and picked up a single photograph. He gripped it tight. Misako was different. Not a wife. Not a daughter. Just a woman who came twice a week to deliver flowers. Just that. It should have been just that. But something with a clear outline had formed inside Seiichi. ——He didn't want to lose her. That night, Seiichi stayed alone on the shop floor until dawn. ＊ Morning came. Seiichi pulled his hat low and headed toward the south entrance of the Ogikubo shopping street. The shutter of Hana-yoshi came into view. His feet stopped. The shutter was half-destroyed. Glass was shattered, scattered across the pavement. Cut flowers were trampled, red and white petals crushed on the stone tiles. White chrysanthemums. Autumn bellflowers. English words were scrawled on the wall in red paint. 　NEXT TIME A crowd of people gathered at the entrance to the shopping street. Two police officers were taking statements. Seiichi looked through the gap in the crowd from outside the circle. Misako was there. Her soft, naturally wavy brown hair swayed in the early morning light. Standing before the officer, her pale green eyes answered something. There were no tears on her face. She wasn't trembling. She was simply quietly enduring something. Seiichi tried to approach. His feet stopped. If he got closer, the danger to Misako would increase. That man was serious. Every time Seiichi moved, the pressure on Misako would grow stronger. Misako's gaze lifted. Beyond the crowd, her eyes met Seiichi's, his face hidden under his hat. Misako's eyes changed. Not tears. Not relief. A quiet, direct gaze. Her eyes asked him——Are you safe? Seiichi gave a small nod, his face hidden in the shadow of his hat. With just that, he left the scene. It was something he had caused. As Seiichi walked, that was all he could think. ＊ By evening, Ando came to Sugi no Ki again. This time his complexion was different from the day before. Not a warning, but a notification. "Sugiyama, your name has been added to the Defeated Nation Management Official's list." Seiichi's hands stopped. "Suspicion of illegal contact with foreigners. Multiple eyewitness accounts have been submitted to the Management Official." Kuroda. Seiichi understood immediately. Kuroda had used his information channel to the Management Official to report that Seiichi had visited the office in Ginza, that he had made contact with a foreigner in Shinjuku——all as false illegal dealings. The Defeated Enemy Alien Management Act——if contact with a person of former enemy nation origin was confirmed as illegal, even Japanese citizens became investigation targets. If the imperial administrative machinery moved that way, there was nothing Seiichi could do to stop it. "If it becomes a public security matter, I can't stop it." There was genuine bitterness on Ando's face. "……Thank you. I'm grateful." Ando left. Seiichi lowered the noren. Alone

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Episode 4

Name: Ogikubo Izakaya "Sugi no Ki" ~The Defeated's Revenge Score~
Author: Novelia

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