It took them half an hour to reach their destination. Hachirō slowed the van and then reversed it. The vehicle bumped over the surface of the road and drew to a stop; Hachirō opened the driver’s side door and hurried around to the back. He opened the doors, keeping out of Natsuki’s sight but just within Milton’s view. Milton looked out and saw that they were in a narrow alleyway, with industrial dumpsters at the closed end and buildings that reached up several storeys, blocking most of the light so that all that was left was weak and grey. Hachirō’s face wasn’t covered; Milton pointed and the older man acknowledged his forgetfulness, going back to the front of the van and returning with an Oni mask, a red-faced and angry demon with long, curved fangs.

Milton made sure that his own mask was still in place and turned back to Natsuki. “We’re getting out now,” he said. “I’ll help you.”

He took the woman by the arm and guided her to the van’s door. Hachirō took her other arm and she slid her legs over the edge. Milton and Hachirō, one on each side, guided her around the van to a door that Hachirō had opened for them. It was dark inside, lit by a single naked bulb. It was the storeroom for the restaurant; Milton saw bags of rice and trays of fresh produce, including a tank of water that held the uni of which the old man was so volubly proud. The storeroom was not large, perhaps ten metres square, but it would serve for the time Natsuki would be kept here. Milton did not intend it to be for long.

They guided her to a wooden chair and helped her to sit.

“I’m sorry about this,” Milton said. “I’m going to have to tie you to the chair.”

“I won’t try to run,” the woman protested. “You don’t need to do that.”

“It won’t be for long. I’m sorry.”

Milton separated four ties from the bunch. He took a knife and sliced through the tie that he had used to secure her in the van, then used the new ones to attach her ankles and wrists to the legs and arms of the chair. She sat quietly while he worked and didn’t struggle; Milton felt a fresh blast of regret for worsening her morning still further, but he didn’t know her and was not prepared to take the chance that she might try to escape. He was going to have to leave her with Hachirō and, although he had no doubt that Sakura’s father was capable, he was also old and Natsuki was fit and strong. Just one more reason not to take chances.