Chapter 44Hiroshi met Suzuki in front of the shinkansen ticket counter inside Tokyo Station. They both tucked the heavy black bags they carried behind them and bowed to each other in the middle of the congested passageway, commuters politely sidestepping the most fundamental Japanese ritual. Amid the gleaming tiles and chrome pillars of the station, the pressed suits and bright overcoats, Suzuki’s hakama and sandals looked straight out of old Edo.
“I couldn’t be in two places,” Suzuki said. “So, it was better to leave her on the train. I called the transit police as soon as I could.”
Hiroshi set his bag down with an understanding nod. “The police called from Fukuoka.”
Suzuki handed the hardshell backpack to Hiroshi. “That little computer thing is in there, too. No swords, though.”
“My
