“Hey,” he answered. Thankfully his voice didn’t crack.
“I’m done,” Shinji said. He sounded exhausted and out of breath. “Is the offer to pick me up still on the table?”
He hesitated for a moment. “Of course. Where are you?”
“I’m at my apartment, packing a suit and shirt for Monday morning.”
“You sound tired. You sure you’re okay with coming over?”
“Yeah… I… uh… I would like to stay at your place.”
“All right. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Thanks.”
Teruo hung up, paid for the groceries and rushed to the car. He put it into gear and lit a cigarette as he drove toward Shinji’s apartment. He hadn’t had a smoke since he’d left Higashikurume. The nicotine had no taste in his numb throat and he cursed, sucking the cigarette like his life depended on it.
Reaching the apartment, Teruo knocked on the door. A disheveled Shinji answered. His eyes were sunken, his face was pale, his hair stuck out at odd angles. It seemed that life had been swept right out of him as well. Whatever it was he had done, it took a toll on him.
Teruo opened his mouth to say something but before he managed to string any words together, Shinji wrapped his arms around Teruo’s waist, hugging him. He practically melted into Teruo, letting out a soft moan. A shiver went down Teruo’s spine as he felt Shinji’s body ice cold against him and he instinctively tightened his arms around Shinji to warm him up.
“I know how I look,” Shinji said, but didn’t offer an explanation. Instead he dragged them both inside and closed the door with his foot. “But it’s nothing some food and a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” He glanced at Teruo. “Do you mind if I stay the rest of the weekend at your place?”
“Not at all. I’d like you to stay.” Teruo meant it, even if he was still apprehensive about all the things Shinji hid.
He couldn’t quite figure out his own intentions or what do to with what he found out about Shinji. If he truly was working some undercover job he couldn’t speak about, Teruo could live with that. He understood the necessity of keeping a low profile to preserve the cover. And if talking to dead people was part of it, all the more reason not to tell anybody.
But if that wasn’t the case... then what?
Teruo was going to give himself this weekend to think things over and make a decision.
“Thank you.” Shinji leaned in and kissed him, lips as cold as the rest of his body and Teruo stiffened, trying not to gasp. “Just let me get the bag.” Shinji headed for the bedroom, thankfully oblivious to the awkward reaction.
Teruo let out a long sigh and focused on Shinji’s apartment to distract himself.
It looked unused as if no one lived in it. No clothes in the closet and no shoes besides the pair Shinji wore the entire day. There was nothing personal in the living room or any smell of someone living and breathing in here. Shinji’s hair and skin had a sandalwood scent. But absolutely nothing in the house.
Shinji returned with a small bag and a suit hanging on his shoulder. They settled in the car and upon reaching Teruo’s house, he whipped up a rich, healthy dinner, wanting to feed Shinji as fast as possible with the hope that it would bring some color back in his cheeks.
Teruo was tempted to ask Shinji what he’d done at Ishida’s apartment, but he wavered between curiosity and fear. Did he really want to know? What if he couldn’t stomach the truth? He even questioned his decision to get involved intimately with Shinji. He shouldn’t have accepted it. There were too many strange things looming over them.
Yet something kept tugging him back into Shinji’s arms. He looked at Shinji whose lips were warm now, his beautiful eyes bright, his skin soft and smelling like sandalwood. He sat cross-legged on the sofa, one arm around Teruo’s shoulders, the other nursing a beer and laughing at some show on TV. It felt like Shinji belonged here by Teruo’s side, but
And then they were in bed, naked, moaning in pleasure. It felt like Shinji belonged here, but in reality he didn’t. Teruo knew he would soon snap out of his sex-induced fantasy and would have to confront Shinji about everything he had seen.
CHAPTER 18
Teruo
On Monday, Teruo checked the police report about Yamato Daichi dating eleven years back.
Yamato had bullied several classmates, one of them—a girl—couldn’t take it anymore and called the authorities when the teachers did nothing—according to the girl’s own words. Teruo compared her name with the list of students he’d received on Friday and confirmed she was in the same classroom as the victims.
Was she the killer? Teruo’s team of officers were headed to her last known address. If she had no alibi, they’d bring her here for questioning.
Teruo placed the report back in the folder and glanced at Shinji who was tapping away at the laptop. Their weekend together lingered on Teruo’s mind. Shinji had been nothing but charm and sensuality with no hint of his peculiar escapade to perform that ritual. The white wind hadn’t made another appearance, so now Teruo questioned his sanity.
Drawing a silent breath, Teruo pressed his lips together. Today he would to speak with Shinji. He didn’t care if Shinji would laugh in his face, or deny, or decide to quit. He had enough of stressing over this. They were due to visit the victims’ former high school in half an hour and then Yamato’s apartment. Once done, Teruo planned on having a discussion.