If the Shoe Fits Chapter 5
Akihito’s alarm clock went off at nine. Groaning, he managed to disarm it without opening his eyes and tried to go back to sleep with a pillow over his head. It’s Sunday morning, after all, and after such a long and eventful night, he deserved a few more hours of rest... But 10 minutes later his bladder woke him again, and after the bathroom trip he found that he was no longer sleepy. Going into the kitchen in search of coffee, he let out a profanity. Last night Kou took him back to Takato’s place, where they celebrated his successful infiltration of Asami Ryuichi’s domain with pizza and beer and Akihito regaled his co-conspirators with tales of his encounter with the shady mogul - playing down his passing out in the man’s arms and omitting all but one of their dances under the stars. When he got to his midnight escape, his friends roared with laughter and Yu-chan, hooting louder than the rest, forgave him for losing one of her beloved red shoes during his sprint to freedom. It was after three when he got home, feeling so exhausted he decided to put off his bath till morning. Now that would have to wait a bit longer, as the kitchen sink was once again filled to the brimmed with dirty dishes - no doubt from Eriko and Jun’s private after-party last night.
“Oh, you’re up.”
Eriko said by way of greetings, one red-nailed hand reaching for the coffee pot. Akihito couldn’t help thinking that his cousin had a way of making even the simplest sentence sound like an accusation.
“You’ll need to make more of this.” She gestured toward the half-empty percolator. “I'm having friends over for brunch.”
“There’s nothing in the fridge.”
“Well, then you’re going to have to nip over to the supermarket. I’ll make you a list in a minute.”
An hour later Akihito stumbled back into the apartment, panting heavily, both arms laden with grocery bags. Eriko had changed into her “lounging at home” attire of short, billowy chiffon dress and was sitting in front of the TV, her visibly hung over brother sprawled over the sofa next to her in a black silk robe.
“Hey Cuz, make me a fresh-squeezed orange juice, will ya?” Jun croaked out at the passing photographer-cum-houseboy. “And please bring a couple of aspirins, wherever you hide them.”
Akihito did as he was told, knowing it would be useless to tell the man that the aspirins were in the drug cabinet in the main bathroom, where they had always been. The arrival of Jun and Eriko’s friends kept him busy for the rest of the morning, but for once he found their conversation interesting, revolving as it did around the party the night before.
“Gosh, I wish I’d been there!” cried one of Eriko’s “civilian” friends, a petite girl with a breathy voice. “Is Asami Ryuichi really as good looking as everybody says?”
“Good looking?” Another voice scoffed. “He’s drop-dead gorgeous! And hunky too! And Eriko here got to talk to him!”
Akihito pricked up his ears as his cousin launched into an account of her up close and personal encounter with the man.
“I expect he’ll give me a call soon,” said Eriko at the end of her lengthy anecdote.
“Did he give you his number?” asked the civilian friend.
“No,” came a frosty reply. “But he does have mine.”
“I wonder if he gave his number to that girl he danced with,” said a voice Akihito didn’t recognize.
“What girl?”
“He did what?”
“Asami danced? At the party? How come I didn’t...
“Well, I don’t know who she is. Tomo and I felt like a cigarette just before the prize-giving began, so we tried to sneak out to the balcony, but this big bodyguard type stopped us, saying it was occupied. Tomo told me later that he saw Asami dancing with some girl on the balcony, and that’s why the bodyguard was keeping everybody from going out there.”
“So you didn’t actually see it yourself.”
If Eriko’s voice had been frosty before, it was now positively icy. The girl who was telling the story clearly sensed the shift in her host's mood, because she started to stammer.
“Well, no, I wasn’t really looking, you see, but Tomo...”
“It wasn’t anyone he knew?” asked Jun.
“Nah, he said she was pretty tall with short hair, and she was wearing a strapless dress with a full skirt. But of course, he only saw her from behind and only for a second or so...”
“I think I saw her too,” said a throaty voice that Akihito knew belonged to one Jun’s actor friends. “Toshi pointed her out to me, said she was his type, but some foreigner was chatting her up so he didn’t have a chance to...”
“What did she look like?”
“Well, I only saw her for a sec but yeah, I'm pretty sure it’s the same girl that Tomo saw. Tall, short hair, almost a pixie cut, and she wore that dress very well, let me tell you!”
“Interesting!” Jun piped up, sounding hung over no more. “Mystery girl came to the ball and got to dance with Prince Charming!”
Prince of Darkness, more like, thought Akihito, feeling blood rush to his face as he remembered how Asami had held him and swirled him around the makeshift dance floor... the man's strength and warmth, the soft, not at all unpleasant scent of his cologne and something musky underneath it...
“I’ve got to find out who this girl is!” Jun announced loudly. “You don’t seem at all curious about her, Sis.”
“Why should I be?” said Eriko sharply. “Just because someone thought they saw Asami Ryuichi dance with her doesn’t make her worth knowing.”
“OK, so you aren't interested, but I am.” It was Jun again, and Akihito thought he detected malice in that hoarse voice. “Asami is one of Tokyo's most eligible bachelors, and of all the girls at last night’s party, he danced with her. That makes her a pretty special girl in my book, and I think my friends at Tokyo magazine will be very interested in finding out who she is.”
I’ll just bet they will, after you give them a tip, thought Akihito crossly, though he wasn’t sure why the idea offended him. He put down a glass with rather more force than necessary and, after checking that it was still in one piece, resolved to close his ears to further chatter from the living room.
Meanwhile, half way across town in the security room of Club Verve...
“Play the tape from the back exit again.”
The man at the console complied, and seconds later the eyes of the room's three occupants were riveted to the screen as a lithe figure in a tulle dress burst out of the black metal door, stood hesitating for a few seconds under the harsh yellow light, then bent over, pulled off her shoes and sprinted off out of camera range. A few seconds later a small car whisked by, followed by a five-minute stretch in which nothing happened. Then the back door opened again. A big, muscular man with blond crew cut came out, looked left and right, the walked off in the same direction that the girl in the tulle dress had earlier taken. Shortly after, he reentered the frame, holding a dainty red shoe by its strap. The technician glanced at the red satin shoe on the small table next to the console, understanding dawning in his eyes. Nothing was said while all three men continued to watch the deserted exit. As the digital clock on the tape moved to 00:08, their patience was rewarded when the same small car cruised slowly by again with the windows down.
“Got the plate number?”
Asami’s voice broke the silence.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Find her.”
In all the time that Kirishima Kei had worked for Asami, he had never seen him show much emotion. But as he looked up from his notebook, the glint in those golden eyes told him that, for the first time in years, his boss was excited.
”I’ll track down those two people seen talking to her, and also the owner of the car...”
“Do what it takes. But find her.”
“Yes, Asami-sama.”
“Oh, you’re up.”
Eriko said by way of greetings, one red-nailed hand reaching for the coffee pot. Akihito couldn’t help thinking that his cousin had a way of making even the simplest sentence sound like an accusation.
“You’ll need to make more of this.” She gestured toward the half-empty percolator. “I'm having friends over for brunch.”
“There’s nothing in the fridge.”
“Well, then you’re going to have to nip over to the supermarket. I’ll make you a list in a minute.”
An hour later Akihito stumbled back into the apartment, panting heavily, both arms laden with grocery bags. Eriko had changed into her “lounging at home” attire of short, billowy chiffon dress and was sitting in front of the TV, her visibly hung over brother sprawled over the sofa next to her in a black silk robe.
“Hey Cuz, make me a fresh-squeezed orange juice, will ya?” Jun croaked out at the passing photographer-cum-houseboy. “And please bring a couple of aspirins, wherever you hide them.”
Akihito did as he was told, knowing it would be useless to tell the man that the aspirins were in the drug cabinet in the main bathroom, where they had always been. The arrival of Jun and Eriko’s friends kept him busy for the rest of the morning, but for once he found their conversation interesting, revolving as it did around the party the night before.
“Gosh, I wish I’d been there!” cried one of Eriko’s “civilian” friends, a petite girl with a breathy voice. “Is Asami Ryuichi really as good looking as everybody says?”
“Good looking?” Another voice scoffed. “He’s drop-dead gorgeous! And hunky too! And Eriko here got to talk to him!”
Akihito pricked up his ears as his cousin launched into an account of her up close and personal encounter with the man.
“I expect he’ll give me a call soon,” said Eriko at the end of her lengthy anecdote.
“Did he give you his number?” asked the civilian friend.
“No,” came a frosty reply. “But he does have mine.”
“I wonder if he gave his number to that girl he danced with,” said a voice Akihito didn’t recognize.
“What girl?”
“He did what?”
“Asami danced? At the party? How come I didn’t...
“Well, I don’t know who she is. Tomo and I felt like a cigarette just before the prize-giving began, so we tried to sneak out to the balcony, but this big bodyguard type stopped us, saying it was occupied. Tomo told me later that he saw Asami dancing with some girl on the balcony, and that’s why the bodyguard was keeping everybody from going out there.”
“So you didn’t actually see it yourself.”
If Eriko’s voice had been frosty before, it was now positively icy. The girl who was telling the story clearly sensed the shift in her host's mood, because she started to stammer.
“Well, no, I wasn’t really looking, you see, but Tomo...”
“It wasn’t anyone he knew?” asked Jun.
“Nah, he said she was pretty tall with short hair, and she was wearing a strapless dress with a full skirt. But of course, he only saw her from behind and only for a second or so...”
“I think I saw her too,” said a throaty voice that Akihito knew belonged to one Jun’s actor friends. “Toshi pointed her out to me, said she was his type, but some foreigner was chatting her up so he didn’t have a chance to...”
“What did she look like?”
“Well, I only saw her for a sec but yeah, I'm pretty sure it’s the same girl that Tomo saw. Tall, short hair, almost a pixie cut, and she wore that dress very well, let me tell you!”
“Interesting!” Jun piped up, sounding hung over no more. “Mystery girl came to the ball and got to dance with Prince Charming!”
Prince of Darkness, more like, thought Akihito, feeling blood rush to his face as he remembered how Asami had held him and swirled him around the makeshift dance floor... the man's strength and warmth, the soft, not at all unpleasant scent of his cologne and something musky underneath it...
“I’ve got to find out who this girl is!” Jun announced loudly. “You don’t seem at all curious about her, Sis.”
“Why should I be?” said Eriko sharply. “Just because someone thought they saw Asami Ryuichi dance with her doesn’t make her worth knowing.”
“OK, so you aren't interested, but I am.” It was Jun again, and Akihito thought he detected malice in that hoarse voice. “Asami is one of Tokyo's most eligible bachelors, and of all the girls at last night’s party, he danced with her. That makes her a pretty special girl in my book, and I think my friends at Tokyo magazine will be very interested in finding out who she is.”
I’ll just bet they will, after you give them a tip, thought Akihito crossly, though he wasn’t sure why the idea offended him. He put down a glass with rather more force than necessary and, after checking that it was still in one piece, resolved to close his ears to further chatter from the living room.
Meanwhile, half way across town in the security room of Club Verve...
“Play the tape from the back exit again.”
The man at the console complied, and seconds later the eyes of the room's three occupants were riveted to the screen as a lithe figure in a tulle dress burst out of the black metal door, stood hesitating for a few seconds under the harsh yellow light, then bent over, pulled off her shoes and sprinted off out of camera range. A few seconds later a small car whisked by, followed by a five-minute stretch in which nothing happened. Then the back door opened again. A big, muscular man with blond crew cut came out, looked left and right, the walked off in the same direction that the girl in the tulle dress had earlier taken. Shortly after, he reentered the frame, holding a dainty red shoe by its strap. The technician glanced at the red satin shoe on the small table next to the console, understanding dawning in his eyes. Nothing was said while all three men continued to watch the deserted exit. As the digital clock on the tape moved to 00:08, their patience was rewarded when the same small car cruised slowly by again with the windows down.
“Got the plate number?”
Asami’s voice broke the silence.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Find her.”
In all the time that Kirishima Kei had worked for Asami, he had never seen him show much emotion. But as he looked up from his notebook, the glint in those golden eyes told him that, for the first time in years, his boss was excited.
”I’ll track down those two people seen talking to her, and also the owner of the car...”
“Do what it takes. But find her.”
“Yes, Asami-sama.”