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  Unlocking the door, Yayoi stepped into the dim house. Perhaps because the children were here, she was struck by the familiar smell of home, like the scent of a puppy sleeping in the sun. And now the house belonged to her and her kids and to no one else. Kenji wouldn't be coming back - but from now on she would have to be sure she didn't let on that she knew he wouldn't. She wondered a bit uneasily whether she'd be convincing in the role of the worried wife. After all, she still felt a tingle of excitement when she recalled the sight of his lifeless body slumped in the doorway. Serves the bastard right! She had never used that kind of language in her life before. Nor had she ever been hunting - so why had she felt the sort of thrill one got from chasing down an animal in the wild? Perhaps she'd always been that kind of person but had just never had a chance to find out.

  Feeling a bit calmer, she looked around the entrance hall for traces of Kenji as she slipped out of her shoes. It occurred to her that she couldn't remember which shoes Kenji had been wearing. Checking the shoe cupboard, she saw to her relief that his new shoes were missing: at least Masako had not had to deal with his dirty old ones.

  She peeked into the bedroom and noted happily that both children were still asleep. As she replaced the blanket that the younger boy had kicked off, she felt a momentary pang of regret for having robbed them of their father.

  'But Papa wasn't the old Papa any more,' she muttered aloud, then realised to her horror that the older boy, five-year-old Takashi, was awake. He was looking around for her, his eyes blinking anxiously. Yayoi went to him and began gently patting his back. 'I'm home,' she said quietly. 'Everything's fine. Go back to sleep.'

  'Is Papa home?' he asked.

  'Not yet,' said Yayoi. He looked around nervously for a

  moment, but she went on patting him until he dropped off again. The thought of what she would be facing in the next few hours made her realise she should probably try to get some sleep herself. Under the circumstances, she doubted she'd be able to settle down; but as she rubbed the bruised spot on her stomach, she drifted off almost immediately.

  -

  'Mama, where's Milk?'

  She woke abruptly when her younger boy, Yukihiro, jumped on her futon. It was difficult to pull herself away from her dreams and back to reality. Forcing her eyes open, she looked at the clock. It was already past 8.00 and she had to have the boys at their daycare centre by 9.00. She hopped out of bed still dressed, her clothes slightly damp with sweat.

  'Mama, Milk's not here,' Yukihiro was still whining. 'He's around somewhere,' Yayoi said, folding up the futon as she replayed the events of the night before in her mind. She finally managed to remember that the cat had fled through the crack in the door after she'd killed Kenji. It seemed strange that some of the details were already becoming vague, as if they'd happened long ago.

  'I said he isn't here!' the boy sobbed. He was the rougher, more boyish of her two sons, but he was unusually fond of the cat. She turned to look for the older boy with the idea of having him look after the little one.

  'Takashi,' she called. 'Could you take your brother to look for Milk?' A moment later, Takashi appeared in his pyjamas, looking anxious and gloomy.

  'Did Papa leave for work already?' he asked. For some time now, Kenji had been sleeping in the little room off the entrance hall when he got home late from work. Takashi had apparently gone to look for him there as soon as he woke up.

  'No, he must have stayed somewhere else. He never came home last night.'

  'That's not true,' Takashi said. 'He did come home.' Yayoi stared at him, horrified. When his pale, delicate face was strained with worry as it was now, he looked just like her.

  'What time?' she asked. Hearing the quaver as her voice trailed off, she realised that this was the first round in what was going to be a long fight. She steeled herself for the task of deceiving her son.

  'I don't know what time,' Takashi said, sounding very grownup. 'But I heard him come in.' Yayoi felt a wave of relief.

  'You heard him? You probably just heard Mama leaving for work. Now hurry up or we'll be late.' He started to protest, but she ignored him and turned to watch Yukihiro searching under the sofa and behind the kitchen cabinet. 'I'll look for the cat,' she said. 'You two get ready.'

  Yayoi made breakfast with what she had in the kitchen and then dressed the boys in their rain ponchos. She put them on her bicycle, one in front and one behind, and rode them to the daycare centre; and when she had them safely delivered, she felt a certain peace of mind. She suddenly wanted to call Masako right away to find out how things had gone, or even to ride over to her house to see for herself. But Masako had said that she was to wait until she heard from her, so she gave up the idea of phoning and hurried home.

  When she reached the alley, a middle-aged neighbour was shuffling about, umbrella in one hand, cleaning up the garbage collection area. As she worked, she grumbled to herself about the sloppy way the people in the nearby apartment building put out their trash. Yayoi greeted her reluctantly.

  'Good morning,' she said. 'It's good of you to take care of this.' The woman's reply was unexpected.

  'Oh, isn't that yours?' she asked, pointing toward a white cat that was hiding by a telephone pole. It was Milk.

  'It is,' said Yayoi. 'Here, Milk! Here, Milk!' she called, holding out her hand. The cat arched its back and mewed. 'You'll get wet. Come inside,' she said, but Milk ran off in the opposite direction.

  'That's odd,' said the woman. 'What do you suppose got into him?' Trying to control her impatience in front of her neighbour, Yayoi continued calling the cat's name. He'll probably never come back . . . just like Kenji. She stared blankly at the spot where he'd vanished.

  -

  Yayoi's daily schedule was an unusual one: after getting home in the early morning from the night shift, she would make breakfast for Kenji and the children, take the boys to the day-care centre, and only then would she get some sleep. She hadn't really wanted to work at night, but there weren't many places that would hire a mother with young children who had to take time off unexpectedly. Before starting at the boxed-lunch factory, she'd worked part-time as a checker at a supermarket; but between refusing to work Sundays and staying home frequently with sick children, she hadn't lasted long. The night shift was hard on her physically, but it did pay better than day work and she could put the children to bed before she had to leave for the factory. Also, she'd been fortunate to find co-workers like Masako and Yoshie.

  She wondered how she was going to manage from now on without Kenji's salary. But they'd made do these past few months without it; this would be no different. They'd figure out something. It seemed to Yayoi that she'd somehow grown stronger since last night.

  She wanted to make the call to Kenji's office as soon as possible, but it might seem strange if she called too early. Deciding to stick to her usual routine, she took half a sleeping pill and lay down. This time she had trouble falling asleep, and no sooner had she dozed off than she woke in a cold sweat from a vivid dream that she was lying next to Kenji. Shaking off its after-effects, she turned over and at last fell fast asleep.

  Some time later, she woke to the distant sound of the telephone ringing. Thinking that it might be Masako, she hopped out of bed, only to find that she was still dizzy from the sleeping pill.

  'My name is Hirosawa,' said the voice on the phone. 'Is your husband there?' The call was from the small construction-supplies company where Kenji worked. So it's starting, she thought, collecting herself.

  'No,' she said.'... You mean he isn't there?'

  'Not yet,' said Hirosawa. She had hesitated because she was unsure of the time. She turned to check the clock on the wall and saw that it was already past 1.00.

  'Actually, my husband never came home last night. I don't know where he stayed, but I thought he'd be at the office by now. I know how angry he gets when I call there, so I was just wondering what I should do.'

  'I see ... ' the man stammered, perhaps feeling he ought to keep up