The old woman sat behind a folding table covered with a black cloth in an alley near Nakasu-Kawabata Station. A handwritten sign advertised her services.

They had to line up behind three customers who’d arrived before them, though he couldn’t wait to leave.

When it was his turn, the fortune-teller grinned at him. He flinched. His mother put her hands on his shoulders, edging him forward.

‘My son has been having the same nightmare. Three times in a row.’

‘That’s worrying.’

The old woman reached for the boy’s hand. Her wrinkled skin brushed against his as she turned his palm face up.

His mother’s grip on his shoulders tightened. ‘Do you see anything?’

‘Yes, I see water. Too much water.’ The woman furrowed her brow. ‘Black, murky water. A lot of darkness.’

There was a pause.

‘Your son will come across three women with the water element in their names. One of them could be his soulmate.’ She closed the boy’s palm. ‘But if he’s not careful, the water will flood. He, or someone close to him — these women perhaps — may drown.’

His mother turned pale as he stared at the age spots creeping all over the old woman’s arms, wondering what they were.

‘Madam, you’ve got something on your mind.’

‘There was an accident involving a relative …’ His mother’s voice was small. Shoji looked at her curiously, but she shifted her eyes away from him. ‘Is there anything you can do for my son?’ she asked the fortune-teller, desperate.

The old woman cleared her throat. ‘I’m afraid I can’t give you a definite answer, madam.’ She turned to the boy. ‘But your son has a kind heart, and kindness is often rewarded. With a bit of luck, he might be fine.’

MIZUKI
水月

CHAPTER 1

THE EAR PROSTITUTE

Akakawa, 1995. At a glance, the building didn’t look much different from the high-end westen-style cafés in Daikanyama. It was housed in an elegant, pristine-white, western-style building. But, looking closer, everything had been meticulously planned to ensure complete privacy for those inside, from the frosted-glass windows to the carefully tended garden that blocked the entrance.

Entering, Shoji saw a framed pen-and-ink illustration of a teapot hung on the wall. A pair of potted English ivies stood near the wooden front doors, which had shiny golden handles. He took a deep breath. The enthusiasm he’d felt earlier had evaporated once he’d got off the bus.

‘Are you nervous?’ Yoko asked.

He forced a smile to reassure his girlfriend. ‘No.’

‘Your palm is sweaty.’

He quickly let go of her hand and wiped his on his trousers.

‘Just kidding,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘Don’t worry, Shoji. You’re a good listener. I know that better than anyone. You’ll be fine. Actually no, not just fine. You’ll be amazing. You’re perfect for this.’

He wasn’t convinced, but he had to nail this interview. He needed a job to stay in Akakawa. Even a dodgy one would do.

•

Three days ago, his girlfriend had returned home earlier than usual. Yoko’s eyebrows rose when she saw him lounging on the low sofa in front of the television. She probably thought he should’ve been out there. Somewhere, anywhere, doing something …