MAID IN TOKYO: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Monday was Cosplay Day, where we would all dress in costumes inspired by a popular comic or cartoon series.  Today it was Mega Fighter Squadron Venus, an animated TV series concerning the exploits of a group of female pilots in giant robots… at war with other giant robots.  I was dressed as Silky Fair, pink hair and a rather tight pink and white Lycra flight suit.  The costumes were made for us by a specialist in Akihabara – she was the top of her field and produced flawless garments.

I turned up for work in my jeans and denim jacket and almost fell over when I saw my pink suit with the inbuilt padded bra and strange sockets all over it.  I had to breathe in as I zipped the suit up.  Because the material was so skin tight panties weren’t an option.  I zipped up the knee high white boots and donned my long pink wig.  When I saw myself in the changing room mirror I thought I actually looked pretty good.  The only downside was my glasses… I couldn’t wear the pink contacts, thankfully.

            When I walked into the café itself half an hour before opening I saw the other girls in their similar outfits.  Even Miss Namikawa was dressed in a sexy outfit, although for some reason she wore a lab coat over it.  Having never seen the series I had no idea who she was meant to be.  All I knew was what was written on the note that came with my costume.

We got to work setting up the tables and I rushed around making sure our manga-like portraits were straight and in full view.  I was represented by a very cute character with big glasses and a sweet smile.  Yuri’s was sickeningly cute, giving a peace sign with a little heart.  The otaku who drew them for us is apparently now a famous comic artist.

“Right girls, open up!” Miss Namikawa called from the back room, reluctant to be seen in her costume.  Yuri and Akiko stood by the door and waited for the first of the customers to rush in, while Rei went outside and stood at the corner, handing out packs of tissues and menu sheets to passers by.

Two hours in and there was a steady stream of customers, normal for a Cosplay Monday.  We used these days to promote the café, while the animation studio’s PR company would pay us a fee for advertising their productions.  It helped to keep the place afloat and pleased the punters no end.

It was just after one-thirty when the policewoman appeared.  Akiko trotted up to her and I could see them looking at me.  I touched my nose and the policewoman nodded.  I felt a stabbing pain in my chest and my stomach knotted.  She bowed and asked me to go out to the car waiting outside the building.  I removed the pink wig and followed her out, noticing how silent the café had become.  I could feel the eyes on me as I left.

I left the air conditioned building and stepped into blazing sunlight and oppressive humidity.  Another policewoman, younger than the one with me, eased the passenger seat of the Nissan March mini patrol car forward so I could clamber into the back seat.  Moments later we pulled away from the kerb and headed away from Akihabara.

I was sitting in a concrete room with a metal table and two chairs, a cup of coffee before me and a uniformed policewoman standing to one side.  She looked to be my age, and looked smart in her sharply creased blouse and skirt.  Eiji would love this, I thought.  I took a sip of the hot sweet coffee and stared down at the table top.

The door opened and in walked Kuroda and the woman Toyama.  Both looked serious, although Kuroda greeted me with a small nod of his head and shoulders.  Toyama’s expression never changed.

I began to tremble as Kuroda sat down opposite me and placed a folder on the table.  He seemed to gather his thoughts for a moment before opening the folder and sliding out a photograph.

“Suzuki-san… do you recognise this man?”

He slid the photo towards me and I got up and stifled a scream.  It was Eiji, his face still bruised and battered from where the women had beaten him.  He was lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed.

“Th… that’s my friend…. Eiji Watanabe.  You met him the night of the murder.”

I swallowed hard as the uniformed policewoman guided me back to the chair.  I closed my eyes and pushed the photo away from me.

“Is he…?”  I couldn’t complete the question.

“Watanabe-san is in the police hospital with gunshot wounds to the chest, limbs and stomach.”  This was from Detective Toyama, standing with her arms across her big chest.

I burst into tears.

“As far as we can tell he was asking a group of men what they had seen on the night of the murder when a van stopped, men got out and shot him with automatic weapons.  Your friend received eight separate injuries.  Luckily no major organs or arteries were damaged and the doctors say he should pull through.”

I wept like a child, my face buried in my hands.

I had warned Eiji not to get involved – no, I had pleaded with him.  And now he was lying in a hospital bed having been shot down in the street.

“Suzuki-san.”

It was the uniformed girl speaking softly to me.  I looked up and she handed me a snow white handkerchief.  I thanked her and blew my nose.  The soft cotton smelled of roses and cherry blossom – so fragrant and sweet.  I thanked her again and apologised for messing it up.  She smiled and said it was okay before returning to her position, the smile fading as Toyama gave her a surprisingly cold look, which she then turned on me.

“Suzuki-san… why was your friend asking about the murder?”

I took a deep breath and explained all about Eiji’s obsession with the police and how he had said he wanted to make Kojima safe again.  I left out the part where he said that he said the police could even be involved. 

Kuroda leaned back and folded his arms, closing his eyes and giving a low growl.  Toyama started to pace, looking at a report of the attempted murder.

“Can I see him?”

Kuroda opened his eyes and looked at me.  They were so dark and penetrating… I could imagine any criminal, no matter how vicious weakening under his stare. 

“As soon as we’ve asked you a few more questions, Suzuki-san.  Does Watanabe-san have any enemies in the criminal fraternity?”

“You mean gangsters?”

Kuroda nodded, pressing the top of his pen a few times.

“No.  He’s the most gentle man I have ever known, and he’s afraid of his own shadow.  He would never get involved with gangsters.”

“How about loan sharks?”  This from Toyama, now standing next to me so that I had to look up at her.  I shook my head.

“Then the target must have been the men he was talking to… but none of them were injured.”

Kuroda stood up and walked across to the slatted window, the bars of sunlight catching the lines of his face.  All at once I suddenly felt self conscious of the fact that I was wearing nothing but a pink lycra bodysuit.  I unconsciously pressed my thighs together and looked down at my still-shaking hands.

“I think we’re finished here, Suzuki-san.  I will have a car take you to the hospital.”

“Can I ask you to have him stop at my flat?  I want to change out of this.”

There was that smile again, and this time I noticed warmth in his eyes.  I wanted to melt in that warmth.

I shook myself and stood up, giving the deepest bow I could in the suit.  The policewoman opened the door for me and I turned to walk away.  I could hear Kuroda clear his throat.

“Yes, I think a change of clothing would be appropriate.”

I gave an embarrassed smile and tried not to imagine what my backside would look like.

Dressed in my black jeans and a loose blouse I stepped from the lift and headed for the reception desk on the third floor of the police hospital.  A nurse pointed down the corridor to where a police officer was standing with his hands behind his back.  I thanked her and set off towards the room, my sandals clopping on the polished floor.

I gave the officer the pass that Kuroda had issued for me and the policeman opened the door for me.

Eiji’s room was in semi-darkness, an overhead lamp casting a pool of soft light onto his face.  Next to the bed were banks of equipment and plasma bottles and bags, some connecting to him by cables and tubes.   As I approached the bed I could smell the surgical fluids and the antiseptic the medical staff had used.  It was overpowering.

He lay there like a hunk of bruised meat.  His face was more swollen than before and the bruising was more pronounced.  I was sure these were new injuries, but Kuroda had said his injuries were confined to his arms, legs and bodies.  Someone had beaten him again.

I sat next to him and placed a trembling hand on his forehead.  I was shocked when he opened his eyes, so red and bloodshot.

“Momoko-san,” he croaked.  I choked and I could feel the sting of tears running from my eyes.

“Eiji…”

“I’m sorry, Momoko-san… you were right.”

I shook my head.

“Not now, Eiji… just promise me that this is an end to it?”

He nodded and I could see that it hurt him to do so.

“Get better, please… I need someone to feel superior to.”  I smiled through my tears and stroked his hair.

“Eiji… who beat you up”

He shook his head. 

“These are new bruises on your face…”

“Please Momoko… “

I nodded, understanding what he was wanting – he wanted me to drop it, like I had asked of him.

The door opened behind me and a nurse walked in with a covered tray.  She bobbed her head when I stood up and I looked down at my friend.

“I’ll go now, Eiji.  Is there anything you want me to get for you?”

He shook his head slowly, but then seemed to change his mind.

“Nana Kitade CD….”

“Please… he needs to rest, young lady,” the nurse said softly but forcefully.  I apologised and gave a little bow before giving Eiji one last look.

I got back to my flat and ran the bath before phoning the café and telling Miss Namikawa what had happened, and that I would like a few days off to visit Eiji and to get over the shock.  She told me to take as long as I needed to call if I needed anything.  I could feel the emotion bubbling up again, threatening to explode in a torrent of tears.

I put the phone down and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm my shattered nerves.  I stripped off and entered the bath… where I cried my eyes out.

I had fallen asleep after my bath and awoke around eight that evening.  I made myself some instant Miso soup and ate an onigiri pickled plum rice ball that was in my fridge.  Feeling a bit better I switched the TV on… trying hard to avoid news programmes, but in the end I settled on the NHK news bulletin.  It was on about a corrupt pop producer and a small earthquake out in Nagoya, but there was nothing about Eiji’s shooting.

I found that strange.  Shootings always made headline news, and someone to be shot in the street, and in broad daylight had to be a major news story.  Maybe Kuroda had ordered a news blackout?  Did he have that sort of power?

I shrugged to myself and thought back to Eiji lying in his bed, bruised and badly wounded.  I wondered if his parents knew, but then I remembered that they were overseas, avoiding the intensity of a Japanese summer.  Before my own parents died they did the same.

I thought back to how I felt when I was told that they had died in a bus crash in Italy.  I was told three days after the event because the recovery teams had to get down to the bottom of the ravine where the bus had fallen.

I shook myself out of these thoughts and remembered the Nana Kitade CD that Eiji had mentioned.  I was surprised he was a fan of such an eccentric rock star – she dressed like a Lolita-Goth but played rock music.  I didn’t like her – I preferred boy bands.

I grabbed Eiji’s spare key from my bag and took the lift down to his flat.

The room was the same size as mine, but seemed only half the size.  There were model cars on every horizontal surface and DVDs scattered in the corners near the window where they had apparently fallen over.  Next to his CD player was a tower full of plastic cases.  I looked down the column of names until I had found the sole Nana Kitade CD – a 2007 album.  I pulled it out and looked at the cover, and frowned.  Stuffed between the sleeve and the case was a slip of paper.  I pulled it out and had a look.

On the paper was a mobile phone number, and scrawled underneath it in hiragana was the name Kiyomi Kawahara.  Was this a message from Eiji to me?  To call this Kiyomi?

I sat on his bed and stared at the note, taking the room in out of the corners of my eyes.  I turned to look at the wardrobe in the same place as mine.  I slipped the paper into my pocket and wandered over the wardrobe, sliding it open.  The first thing I saw was the dark blue of a police uniform.

Without realising what I was doing I pulled it out.  It was a summer uniform going by the cut and lightness of the material used.  On the sleeve was the shield shaped patch bearing the word ‘Tokyo’.  On the chest was the metal badge of the local Ueno police.

I stared at the uniform for several minutes before coming to a decision and leaving Eiji’s flat with the suit over my arm.

Once back in my flat I tossed the uniform onto my bed and sat opposite, staring at it.  What was I thinking?  What was I planning to do?  Ask questions disguised as a police officer?

Everyone in the area knew me on sight – people tend to notice when you dress as a maid.  I chewed on my thumb then pulled out the slip of paper.

What had Eiji done to me?  Had this all been a set up to get me to take over his investigation while he recovered?

I broke down again, not knowing what to do or where to turn to for help.  For the first time in my life I was utterly alone.