I never even heard the alarm the next morning. I mean, I probably did, and somewhere in my fogged brain I found the energy to roll over and shut it up, so that I slept long past my usual brisk hour. Waking didn’t do anything to clear my head, so I decided to give myself a day off. It’s not that I’m lazy, but yesterday had been a trying day, full of weirdness, and I needed to recharge before I moved on with the investigation. Investigation. Just who was it that I was investigating? I was beginning to think that this Tenjou Utena never existed and that it was my client I was tracking. I skipped breakfast to take a short run. The Yura River is always nice in the morning, and mist shrouded the streets. It was going to be a thick day and I was glad to just kick back and let it slide. Back home for a light breakfast, some household chores and a few phone calls. Nothing stressful. Nothing interesting, either. I thought that what I needed was a good physical workout – something to occupy my body, so my mind would have to follow. I stopped by my friend’s dojo, and looked in the window. He was conducting a class, mostly women. I stepped into the school and watched as the students tossed each other around. He looked up and nodded at me, but didn’t leave the mat. I nodded back and tried to make myself inconspicuous. A quarter of an hour later, class was over and he walked up to me. Furuhata was a short guy, kind of thick, like a barrel – in fact, "Oke" was what we called him in school. Time and joking had changed it to OK and that was the name I used now. "Hey, OK." I bowed and stretched out a hand to shake. He shook and bowed and then he gave me a quick hug, to boot. Always a touchy guy – kind of unusual in our crowd. OK invited me in, we sat and sipped tea and he waited for all his students to finish changing and leave before he asked me what had brought me there. I told him that I wanted to work on some ukemi and he grinned. Gods, there’s nothing as horrifying as a judoka with a fresh uke. My smile slipped a bit and I remembered the last time we worked out – I think my sprained ankle was my own fault, but the bruises were his. He kept grinning until I groaned out loud and then he laughed. "What’s the deal? You only come here to work out when you’re upset about something." I glared at him and he grinned. "A woman, huh?" He whistled. Well, I think I can wipe her out of your mind. And my mat needs a good cleaning. C’mon – I got an extra gi in the back." And he rose, smoothly and gracefully for such a blocky guy. I scrambled up behind him and we went to get me properly attired. OK was a good guy – he’d never hurt me seriously. I kept telling myself that for the next hour and half, as he tossed me across the mat, around the room and straight down. I worked on making useful, committed attacks – smooth, good energy that he could react to. He worked on slamming my ass as hard as he could into the mat. It worked for us. At last he let me go. I felt like a convoy had run over me, but I felt better than I had in a while. There’s nothing like a really good, tough workout to remind you of all your muscles. We showered and changed and OK invited me back to his place for an early dinner. I accepted happily and off we went. OK’s wife was a really, really good cook. I always liked that about her – and she was an old school friend of mine. We had taken a lot of classes together in college. I can’t actually claim credit for their successful marriage, but I’d like to think I had at least something to do with getting them to meet. They had two kids – one boy, five, and a girl, two. Cute kids. I played with them while OK and his wife made dinner. We were building a block castle. Tasuke wanted it to have towers, but we only had square blocks, so I took a few pieces of scrap paper and made cones for the top. It made his day. Ari was busy making her own tower, which kept falling over. Tasuke, all responsible big brother, helped her. It was nice to watch kids play. It made me feel part of the family. Dinner was amazing. Fancy restaurants may be the rage, but when it comes to my taste just give me old-fashioned home cooking any day. By the time I got home, I was tired, sore and happier than I had been in several days. For a few hours, I hadn’t had a dark-skinned beauty looking up at me with teary eyes. As soon as I walked into the apartment, though, she was back. And I knew that I couldn’t put off the next step any longer. A few phone calls later and I had a ticket for a plane to Kagoshima to see one Saionji Kyouichi. I spent a few minutes tracking him down, assistant Mayor and Customs Official at the port. I managed to find an inn that would take the late reservation and settled down with the file on Saionji. Another Student Council member, with the exception of a hiatus. School records sealed – that always meant being expelled. I wondered why. Probably something to do with a girl - always was. Grades good, not tops, good looking enough guy, if you liked that type. Saionji had weak, thin lips and mean eyes in his photo. I wondered if he had become the supercilious, pompous official in his little nowhere town. Kagoshima…I picked up a map and found it fairly easily. Volcanic mountains, Izumi and its Crane Park, Mt. Sakurajima…sweet potatoes. I decided to pick up some souvenirs while I was there. Sounded like a beautiful place, at least. My eyes were closing and I had a long day ahead. I popped a few ibuprofen for my aching muscles and drifted off to sleep. If I had any dreams, I didn’t remember them.
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