Stranded in the Future

Chapter Thirty-One: Dark Desires

Ichiro resigned himself to staying silent and letting Kumiko ask the questions while Izumi led them towards her house. After all, even if he was supposed to be the medium, the fact remained that his wife was more qualified to deal with the supernatural than he was. 

In the meantime, he lowered his head and hoped for the chance to prove himself soon.

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but would you mind telling why the girl in your store was crying?"

Izumi responded with a derisive chuckle. "Oh, her. She's one of my few remaining employees."

"Few? How many do you have exactly?"

"Enough to keep the business going, which is all that matters." 

"I see." Kumiko glanced back at Ichiro in uncertainty. "You mentioned a friend earlier. Could you tell us about them?"

Izumi chuckled a second time. "Not really. They're the reclusive kind, and chances are you won't even see them today..." 

"Uh... thank you for the information," Kumiko replied, unable to conceal her doubt and making Ichiro feel a little more anxious. "How much longer?"

"It's right across the road." Izumi stopped and pointed at the two-storey house located on the other side of the street. Its pristine white exterior and smooth gray roof tiles reminded Ichiro of the castles of old, and he wondered how many of them were still standing. 

He walked across the quiet street behind the two women until they reached the front doorstep of Izumi's residence. Izumi flung the door open without the use of a key, then beckoned him and Kumiko inside. "Come on. There's nothing to be afraid of..."

Kumiko heeded Izumi's assurance and entered the house first. Ichiro followed with his shoulders hunched in fear. He still couldn't figure out a reason for their client's odd behavior, so he hoped that Kumiko had already deduced the answer. Of course, he also didn't want her to take over this particular assignment and overshadow him yet again. That simply wouldn't stand. 

"So, tell us about this ghost," Ichiro made sure to ask the moment his shoes were off, since he couldn't afford to waste time. "Do you know what it's done so far?"

Izumi smirked despite it being inappropriate for the situation. "I would say the living room is its favorite haunt. I can show you there if you want."

"Well..." Ichiro lost confidence and looked at the unfazed Kumiko. "What do you say?"

Kumiko stepped into a pair of bright pink slippers and stood tall. "There's only way to find out, so let's get on with it."

"Be my guest." Izumi slid the living room door open for them to pass through and slammed it as soon as Ichiro had crossed the threshold. He stumbled in shock and bumped into Kumiko, who managed to regain her footing before turning around. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Yes. I'm sorry," Ichiro apologized.

"No harm done." Kumiko scanned the living room and much of its quaint decor. "I don't sense anything in here, but how about I inspect the couch and you check behind the TV? Those seem like the best hiding spots."

"Actually, I-" Ichiro began to protest, but Kumiko left his side without a moment of hesitation. He frowned, unable to overlook the blatant disrespect. You bitch. What's gotten into you?

He clenched his fists and stormed towards to the television. It sat on top of its wooden cabinet like an emperor on a throne, taunting him with what it was capable of. Ichiro made out his distorted reflection in the idle black screen as he grasped the device with both hands.