A single, thuggish-looking person was crouched down in front of my apartment. I approached closer, wondering who it could be, only to discover (as half-expected, I suppose) that it was Aikawa-san. Her hairstyle had changed a bit since Wednesday, suggesting she had gotten it cut. It was a slick style like the kind celebrities sometimes get, where the bangs in front form a perfectly straight line above the brow. With her already extraordinary proportions, the new hairstyle made her look even more like a model. If only she hadn't been squatting like some high school thug.
"Yo," she said upon noticing me. She stood up and came to greet me. She had a heartless, somehow catlike sneer on her face. "So how was your date?"
"You were watching us?"
"I just spotted you in Shinkyôgoku. So I came here to make fun of you."
"I... See."
How much free time did this woman have? I was amazed. She was completely ungraspable. There was no way to guess what she might do next. A wily phantom of a woman.
"So you cut your hair, huh? Looking for a change of pace?"
"To be more accurate, I got it cut," she said as she tweaked her bangs.
"Well, yeah, I suppose."
"Yup. Like this"—flick—"with a survival knife. If I had dodged a second later, I wouldn't have my left eye anymore. I gotta admit, even I was scared."
She must have gone to the worst hairstylist ever.
"I figure I might keep it short for a while. What do you think? Does it work?"
"Aikawa-san, any hairstyle would look good on you. You're a beautiful woman."
"Aw, you're too sweet. But how many goddamn times do I have to tell you not to call me by my last name?"
She put me in a headlock and noogied my brains out before letting me go again. Then she flashed me that wicked smile.
You couldn't hold anything against this woman. If you did, you'd never get away with it.
"So? How was your date? What's going on with that younger girl? Hmm? Hmm? Come on, talk to me. If you've got a problem, I can give you advice."
"I think you've got it all wrong, er, Jun-san. She's just one of the people involved in this murder case."
"Hmm? Oh. Really. Then... By any chance was it Aoii Mikoko?" I nodded. Her face went blank.
"Hmm," she said. "I see. Well, either way, I guess if you're already back at this hour, you don't have much of a chance."
Incidentally, it was eleven o'clock.
Mikoko-chan had imbibed a ridiculous amount of alcohol, with all the inevitable consequences. She passed out in the middle of the restaurant. I hoisted her onto my back and took her all the way back to Horikawa Oike, entered her apartment, put her to bed, locked up, and took the bus back home. This time she didn't look like she was fake-sleeping.
"Too bad, young'un. Want me to console you?" she teased with genuine amusement.
"I'm telling you, it's not like that . . . and more important"—I decided to change the subject before I had another annoyance to deal with —"so about this hairdresser who did your bangs—was it Zerozaki, by any chance?"
"..."
Her facial expression distorted.
And became one of sheet delight.
"Yeah. Hell of a kid lemme tell you. Still only a second-rate killer, but as a knife-wielder, he's as good as they come. He knows exactly how a human has to move which muscles for maximum speed. And take a look at this," she said, rolling up her right sleeve. Her arm was wrapped in white bandages, stained with crimson blood from underneath. "And he walked away with hardly a scratch. Seriously, that's one hell of a kid. I guess he's living up to the 'Zerozaki' name."
"...Is he even tougher than you?"
"It's not a matter of tough or weak. In terms of sheet strength, I'm proud to say I'm several tiers above him. I'll admit that he is frighteningly quick, but he's still a hundred years too slow to deal with me."
Aikawa-san, ever the narcissist. The possessor of unrivaled confidence.
"Still, when he's dead set on escaping, he's really something. He was unexpectedly calm too. As a homicidal monster, I figured he'd be a little more hot-blooded. But he was just like you said."
"How do you mean?"
"He's identical to you. I can't exactly put my finger on one specific similarity, but he's just like you," she said, her voice full of cynicism. "The sick masochistic freak and the sick sadistic freak. It's a match made in freaking Heaven."
"So in other words..." I said, choosing my words as carefully as was humanly possible, "Er, in other words, you found Zerozaki and you let him get away?"
"Hmm?!" She grinned creepily and pinched both of my cheeks. "I'm sorry, did I just hear something come out of this mouth right here? Huh? What was that? Aikawa Jun is just some girl who likes to go around bluffing about herself, you say?"
"No, I didn't mean that. First of all, there's no way you still pass for a 'girl'..."
Squeeze.
Huh. Who knew the elasticity of a human cheek was so high?
"Eh, I guess you're right," she said, suddenly releasing my face. She scratched the top of her head with a bored expression. "I guess I've still got some things to learn. Oh, I wonder if that tattoo face is still in Kyoto."
"If I were Zerozaki, I definitely would've fled to another prefecture."
"Yeah, I know," she said, slumping her shoulders. "Oh, what a hassle. Not that I had any intention of letting him get away."
Seeing the icy cold look in her eyes as she said this, I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Zerozaki after all. Aikawa-san looked pretty damn persistent.
"Well, I'm done bothering ya," she said. She stretched out her back and began to leave. Evidently, she had come on foot today instead of in the Cobra. "Or rather, I'm done trying and failing to bother you. Well, whichever. Good night. Let's both have sweet dreams."
"Jun-san. Can I ask you something?" I said to her back.
"What?"
"Could you forgive a murderer?"
"Huh? What kind of question is that? Is this some sort of metaphor?"
"Eh, well, to say it more directly... Do you think it's okay for one person to kill another?"
"Yup, I do." She answered immediately and firmly. "People who are supposed to die should die. Heh heh," she laughed cynically. "Like let's say you kill me. Just relax, dammit. The world goes on," she continued coolly, then waved a hand at me and disappeared from view.
Geez.
"..."
If only I could be so defiant. So filled to the brim with cynicism. How wonderful it would be.
"I really am half-baked."
I was sick of myself.
Not just sick, disgusted.
"But either way, Aikawa-san, it's all just nonsense."
I went inside my apartment building and managed to make it to my door without running into anyone. I reached into my pocket to get my key when I felt a foreign object inside. I pulled it out and took a look.
It was Mikoko-chan's apartment key.
"..."
In order to get her back inside, I had taken it out of her bag without asking her. I couldn't just leave the door unlocked, so I had borrowed the key to lock up. At first, I considered dropping the key through the mail slot, but it was attached to the same key ring as the Vespa key, so I ended up bringing it home, deciding to just drop it off tomorrow along with the Vespa. It wasn't like I just wanted an excuse to try out the Vespa.
"Besides, the Vespa and the key aren't the only things I have to drop off."
I might have been antisocial, clueless, and kind of a big jerk, but spending that much time face-to-face with someone, you couldn't just ignore them.
Aoii Mikoko.
"I remember, Mikoko-chan."
I entered my room and lay down on the floor without even bothering to set out the futon.
It was my first day of college after coming back from that ridiculous island. I didn't know right from left in regards to the Japanese schooling system, and it was Mikoko-chan who was the first one to strike up a conversation with me.
"Nice to meet you! Is there anything you don't understand?" She was beaming with friendliness. This was the caring gesture of a girl looking out for a classmate who had gotten a late start.
I was horribly irritated. And just a little grateful. Because somewhere in that bright, innocent aura, echoed a slight resemblance to that precious friend of mine.
This is a real masterpiece," I said like Zerozaki Hitoshiki and closed my eyes.
No thinking about tomorrow.
No thinking about the case.
No thinking about the prowler.
No thinking about private contractors or my one and only friend.
I didn't want to think about anything anymore.