Chapter 11: Breaking Into the Shrine Annex

The tide was out by nine-fifteen.

Kenji had been checking the harbor gauge since noon, not because he needed to — he had memorized the tidal schedule for the next three weeks the same way he had memorized his father's voice, out of a fear that if he stopped rehearsing it he would lose it — but because checking gave his hands something to do that was not opening the letter. The letter from Taro was still in his jacket pocket. He had not read it again since the afternoon he found it, but he was aware of its presence against his ribs with the constancy of a bruise.

They met at the base of the cliff path at half past nine. The night was overcast but dry, the cloud cover sealing in a warmth that smelled of seaweed and distant rain, and the harbor lights behind them cast just enough glow to make the darkness ahead feel deliberate rather than natural. Io had confirmed the vehicle's absence an hour before — she had walked past the university faculty car park twice, once eastbound with her bicycle and once westbound without it, and texted Hana from the payphone outside the Lawson's: *empty since five, not unusual but useful.* Hana had forwarded the message to Kenji. Kenji had read it standing at the kitchen sink with the tap running over his wrist.