‘Yoko!’ he shouted.

The little man changed to green and Shoji dashed across the road. He ran over to the car. Yoko — was that her? No … It wasn’t her, though they had a similar facial structure and build. He cursed. What had he been thinking?

Shoji stopped for a moment, aware that people were staring at him. He slowed down his pace to match the rest of the pedestrians crossing.

The woman in the car laughed and leaned back, and the man next to her came into view. Shoji’s heart skipped a beat. That cold, intimidating presence. Was that Kazuhiro Katou?

But before Shoji could get closer, the car drove away.

He felt his heart racing. What was wrong with him? First, he had mistaken that woman for Yoko and then he’d convinced himself the man in the passenger seat was Mizuki’s husband. But that couldn’t be true. There was no way Kazuhiro Katou would turn up in Tokyo without his entourage of guards. He was delusional. Perhaps his earlier conversation with Yoshioka had affected him.

Yoko was gone. He should have moved on by now, but why couldn’t he?

He went to the station and took the train back. On his way out of the station, instead of heading straight home, he made his way into a red phone booth a ten-minute walk away.

The door felt heavy. He reached for the phone, inserted some coins, and punched a series of numbers on the worn-out panel. He hadn’t called this number in a long time. It would probably be out of service now.

Shoji stared at the dust-coated glass panels, waiting for the ringing tone to end.

Hi, we’re away right now. Leave us a message and we’ll get back to you soon.

He froze. Yoko’s voice was still there.

Shoji closed his eyes, overwhelmed with emotion. His chest ached. Hearing Yoko’s voice brought back flashes of memories. She had recorded the message when they had just moved to Akakawa and bought that phone from the electronics shop in town.

‘You don’t need to bother,’ Shoji had said. ‘No one will call.’

‘It’s all right, I want to do it,’ she’d replied, turning to face him. ‘Hey, Shoji. Do you know that our voices sound different to us than to other people? In our heads, our vocals are deeper and more resonant. I have a friend who worked part-time as a voice actor, and he told me it took him a while to get comfortable with hearing his voice. Fascinating, isn’t it?’

Shoji took the receiver from Yoko and pressed the playback command.

Her recorded voice sang out:

Hi, we’re away right now. Leave us a message and we’ll get back to you soon.

‘If you go through all the trouble to do the recording, you should at least include our names,’ Shoji said.

Yoko laughed. ‘Anyone who calls us should know who we are.’

That was what she had said, but it wasn’t true. Shoji was calling her now, but he wasn’t sure if he did know her. He had no clue which city in Iwate prefecture she came from, or what kind of childhood she’d had, or who she had been close with. Even when they had been together, there were so many things she kept from him. For instance, those aquarium visits. He was certain she had been hiding something, yet he hadn’t probed further.