– Did the cameras come to you? – My sensei was looking relaxed. He did not even looked at me when he asked me. – Good. I was expecting that. You’re a newcomer, and they think you don’t know the business. Do you? – He looked a me. His eyes were surrounded by wrinkles. I wondered how old was he. A hundred? More? I hold his gaze. – Anyway – he continued – we will find out soon if you have the stomach we need. –
He was now wearing civil clothes. As me. I abandoned the onsen on my own, since I didn’t see him, after the meeting with the girl, but not before running around the next empty islands, looking for other visitors. At least my part of the onsen was a desert. I came back to the entrance, to my trousers and shirt, and when I was about to head back to my cubicle, he appeared from behind my back.
– What do you think we shall do now? – Was that an exam? But I know old people tend to speak for themselves also, so I marked the question as rhetorical.
– We could ask the cameras to give us the ID’s of yesterday’s onsen visitors…but I don’t want you to do that. It’s a nasty job, and the cameras are not easy to question. How about this? – He was again not looking at me. Instead, he looked around. I did the same. The entrance to the onsen was evenly illuminated. It was on one side of a nameless triangular square. In the centre was standing the light, intermingled with the branches of a lush tree of a type I was not familiar with. The whole scenery was looking ancient, like coming out of an old Japanese engraving. There were a few other places you could end up coming here: the other side of the triangle was having a door advertising a massage parlor, and the third one happened to be a shinto temple. – I will make it easy for you: I will send you the list of suspects.