Of course, there was also Mizuki. But he had brought enough trouble to her. When he’d reached Tokyo, he had considered trying to contact her, but the more he’d thought about it, the more he realised the best thing was probably to stay away. Every time he thought of Mizuki, he felt a tremendous amount of guilt.

‘If there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m all ears,’ Yoshioka said.

Shoji hesitated. He didn’t want to bother his senior, but he had exhausted all his other options. ‘Remember I used to live in Akakawa?’

Yoshioka nodded. ‘What about it?’

‘The reason I had to return to Tokyo was that I’d tried to help a female friend leaving an abusive marriage. Her husband was a politician with considerable influence. But instead of saving her, I ended up with people wanting to kill me.’

Yoshioka’s eyes widened. ‘That’s serious. Are they still pursuing you?’

‘I can’t be certain, but I like to think that they eventually gave up.’

‘You seem relaxed for someone with a noose around his neck.’

Shoji forced himself to laugh. ‘It’s been two years. I used to be anxious, but not anymore,’ he said. ‘There’s just one thing. I often wonder about that friend. Most probably, she’s still stuck in that marriage, though I do hope that she managed to get away somehow.’ Even as he said the words, he couldn’t help dismissing it as a feeble attempt to make himself feel better about his helplessness.

Yoshioka took a long sigh, seemingly thinking hard. ‘You want to meet up with her?’

‘Not necessarily — I don’t want to put her in danger again — but I’d like to know how she is doing. She’s not someone just anyone can easily get information about, but you might know …’

‘The wife of a politician, did you say? I’m going to bet she was an ojou-sama,’ Yoshioka said. ‘Why don’t you tell me her name? I’ll ask my contacts.’

‘I don’t have her real name.’

‘Just give me whatever information you do have. What about the husband?’

‘His name is Kazuhiro Katou.’

‘Ah.’ Yoshioka was silent for a moment. ‘The Katou family, eh? I’m sure I can find something.’

‘I really appreciate it, but please be careful. These people are dangerous.’

The older man sneered. ‘I did a few years as a crime correspondent. I’ve played with fire. No big deal.’

‘Like eating the expired wagashi in the pantry?’

They both laughed, recalling one occasion when Yoshioka had to go to the hospital because of a terrible stomach ache. He had stubbornly finished up a box of Fujiwara confectionery past its sell-by date. A client had sent it as a gift, but somehow the bag had lain unclaimed and unopened for more than a month.

Shoji turned to Yoshioka. ‘I’m sorry to impose on you. I should do this on my own, but I don’t know how. I feel so useless.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Yoshioka said, nudging him. ‘It’s perfectly fine to ask for help. It doesn’t mean you’re weak. It shows that you’re wise and brave. You don’t need to do everything alone.’