A Midsummer's Equation

TWENTY

It was a little after eight o’clock when Narumi got to the bar. Sawamura was already waiting for her, his laptop on the table in front of him.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, sitting down.

“No worries. The police still there?”

“They only just left.”

“What are they looking for, anyway?” Sawamura asked with a frown.

Narumi gave him the same explanation she had given Yukawa.

Sawamura’s frown deepened. “But why? Didn’t he fall off the seawall and hit his head? Doesn’t seem like that would require a whole lot of investigation.”

All Narumi could do was shrug.

“I’m just as confused as anyone, really,” she said. “Still, I have a feeling things will just blow over.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, it wasn’t meant for my ears, but—”

Narumi had just collected Yukawa’s tray from dinner and was heading back to the kitchen when she overheard several men inside talking. She couldn’t hear everything they said, but the general consensus appeared to be that there was nothing out of order in the inn whatsoever. As the police made to leave, Nishiguchi had whispered in her ear, “Hopefully we’ve put this thing to rest for good.”

Sawamura gave a sigh of relief, even as he shook his head and muttered, “Who knows what the police are thinking? I sure don’t.”

They began going over their notes from the hearing the other day, but neither of them was able to put their heads into the work. Eventually, Sawamura said, “Let’s call it a day,” and closed his computer. “What do you do at your place once the summer is over, anyway?” he asked. “I know a lot of the inns close for the season.”

Narumi told him that her parents were considering shutting down for good, and he didn’t seem surprised.

“Times are tough, huh. Now what are you going to do for work?”

“I’ll find something. I figured I’d have to search for a job come fall at any rate.”

“I have an idea,” Sawamura said, a serious look in his eyes. “How about working as my assistant?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Well, my writing gig keeps me on the road a lot, but my position with Save the Cove means I also need to be near my base of operations to keep in contact with everyone. Basically, I need someone to hold down the fort when I’m out. I’m thinking I’ll convert a part of my house to an office, and if you could come work there, it’d be a big help. I should be able to pay you enough to make it worth your while.”

Narumi’s eyes dropped to the table. She hesitated, uncertain what to say. It wasn’t a bad offer. In fact, she was immensely grateful. She wouldn’t have to leave town, and she could devote herself to protecting the ocean. But she was worried about what might be behind the offer.

“Well? What do you think?” Sawamura asked with a smile. “I know I’ve said this before, but I think you and I could be great partners. An unbeatable duo!”

Narumi smiled but her eyes wandered.

Sawamura had a way of keeping things vague. When he talked about partners, did he really mean just work partners, or was there a more personal agenda as well? It was hard to tell. No, he made it hard to tell.

They’d only been working together for a short while before she had sensed a personal interest from him. She’d pretended not to notice. She respected him as a journalist and an activist, but she just couldn’t see him as a romantic partner.

Time had passed, and Sawamura had begun saying things that, depending on how you interpreted them, could be taken as a kind of confession of his interest in her. Maybe he thought that by dropping little hints, he could get her to start thinking of him not just as a friend, but as a man.

“I’ll have to think about it,” she said.

“Of course, take your time.”

He smiled, but Narumi could feel the added weight in the air.

* * *

Back at the inn, she found Yukawa pacing in the lobby. He was carrying a bottle of red wine in his hand.

“Ah, you’ve come at the perfect time,” he said. “I was hoping I could borrow a bottle opener.”

“Where’d you get the wine?”

“I had it sent from the university. Looks like I’ll be here a bit longer.”

That explained the box with the FRAGILE sticker she had seen in his room.

She returned with a bottle opener from the kitchen and handed it to him.

“Care to join me?” he invited her.

“Sure, why not?”

“Good wine loves good company.”

Narumi went back to the kitchen and took two of the few wineglasses they had down from the shelf.

They sat down at the table in the lobby and toasted each other. She took a sip, detecting an oaky fragrance as the flavor spread through her mouth. She swallowed, leaving only a faint, pleasant sweetness on her tongue that made her want to take another sip.

The label on the bottle read “Sadoya”—a winery in Yamanashi, Yukawa informed her.

“I didn’t think any Japanese wine tasted this good,” Narumi said.

“Japanese people are oddly uninformed about what is good about Japan,” Yukawa said, swishing the wine around in his glass. “There are a lot of people out in the countryside doing their darndest to make amazing things, but no one notices. Tokyoites write off this wine as ‘too local’ without even tasting it. Much like you’ve devoted your life to protecting Hari Cove, when an outsider might say why bother when there are plenty of other beautiful coastlines around?”

“So what we’re doing here doesn’t mean anything? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Not at all. To the contrary, it’s quite important, and should be recognized as such. In fact, just today at noon Kyohei and I saw the sight that gives Hari Cove its name. The sparkling formations on the seafloor—it was remarkably beautiful.”

Yukawa’s words sounded heartfelt. Narumi made another mental mark in his favor.

The phone behind the counter began to ring. Narumi stood up, glancing at the clock. It was almost ten at night. They rarely received calls this late.

“Hello, Green Rock Inn.”

“Sorry to call so late,” said a man on the other end of the line. “I was hoping I could talk with one of your guests, by the name of Yukawa? Tell him it’s Kusanagi.”