Chapter Text
“And a continent does not fit in Him / But He fits in my chest / And my chest occupies His love / And in His love I want to lose myself..”
—ROSALÍA, “La Yugular”
TOTO’s flat in Asakusa was a modest one. It was also Ron’s third time there.
The first time was during their early acquaintance when Ron wanted to know where he lived. The second time was when the forbidden detective did not see Toto for three weeks and he was aching for more cases to solve with him. He waited at the stairs till the wee hours of the morning then Toto received a call from his landlord that a young man with seaweed hair was loitering in front of his apartment door.
Since then Toto spent most of his Feierabend in the Maison de Kamonohashi in a room Ron designated for him. But he always ended up staying in the forbidden detective’s room instead warming up the bed with the tomcat joining him.
Every time this happened Ron would stop what he was doing to join them.
“Must buy a large bed…” Toto murmured in his sleep. Ron would smile at that as he moved closely to the two creatures occupying his mattress.
The distance between Toto’s flat in Asakusa and the Japanese Metropolitan Police in Chiyoda was eight kilometres, give or take.
One time after Toto did an all-nighter at the police station after the event of the Auberge case the police officer went straight to the Maison, which was quicker to reach by train.
“I am sorry Ron if I am here again.”
He waved his hand and offered the police officer his room again.
“Go to sleep, Toto. You are tired.”
It was strange to be there. Stepping inside his friend’s apartment was akin to discovering the entrance gate to a secret garden standing before him. Full of unknown plants he didn’t have any knowledge of. He imagined the rooms having labyrinthine walls but at the same time there was no feeling of aggressive emotion whenever he touched his friend’s belongings. It was as if they welcomed him entirely with their body and soul. Toto kept a Maneko cat, a small Buddha and a well-maintained bonsai next to each other in an altar close to the book shelf.
The police officer rarely asked Ron to stay in his own apartment ever since the incident with the landlord. It had always been Ron asking Toto to consider moving in with him. It was bold to assume that he’d say yes but… Ron would never get tired asking his friend until he acquiesced. The dark-haired forbidden detective was that determined.
A shoji separated the bedroom from the lounge area. It creaked when Ron opened it. He felt a draft kissed his cheeks though the windows were all closed. Suddenly a heady mix of excitement and a slight terror filled him as he entered Toto’s sleeping room.
In the middle of the room was a grey futon that neatly laid out on a platform higher than the flooring.
He headed straight to the double closet using the key that was attached to it. He realised that Toto’s suits were not washed but all dry-cleaned. With an exemption of one pair of black suit, all of them bore either grey or light brown colour that he wore for work. The rest of his clothes were all folded and sorted according to the four seasons.
He took three pairs of pajamas and a couple of the leisure attire.
Ron also checked the boxes at the bottom of the closet and found the undergarments.
He’ll need these.
When he had everything he wanted, he placed them with care in a small luggage he found next to the futon.
A flummy ball bounced in front of him. Wondering where it came from, he realised too late that a beige-coloured box with a black ribbon on top of the lid, more like a child’s shoebox, fell from the night stand. Ron did not notice dropping it when he took out the travelling bag.
The contents were sprawled on the floor. Trinkets, ticket stubs, letters, notes and pictures—all sorts of ephemera.
Of all the photographs there was one that particularly caught his eye. Inspecting the image it was of a beautiful young blonde woman holding a baby and a toddler in tow holding her skirt on the left side with a pacifier in the mouth. The angry scowl on the blonde little boy reminded him of a nemesis he once knew. Ron turned the picture and read what was written there.
His hands began to shake. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. The room became warmer than before.
Written in English, the neat handwriting read:
“Sophie with Baby Eli and Milo, four years old, in Brighton.”
Eli? Huh? Eli Moriarty? The second son of my Uncle Dario? The child no one knew about? What is baby Eli Moriarty’s picture doing in Toto’s flat?
He searched for more clues by rummaging through the boxes and opening the locked drawers, but could not find anything that would substantiate his suspicions. He wanted to stay longer but he promised Toto’s grandmother that he would be back in an hour to the hospital where Toto was presently confined.
Ron looked around Toto’s apartment once again. There were so many things he did not know about his friend. He could only blame himself as he was too selfish not to be interested with his friend’s familial relations. And now he had so many questions burning to be answered. Too bad Toto couldn’t answer them. Yet. They put his friend in a coma after the coastguard found him unconscious and bleeding in the head not far from the Izu Islands floating on a piece of driftwood. It was only after a week when the doctors at the nearby island deemed that Toto’s condition was fit enough to be transported back to Japan. However, they never found Alice’s body.
Perhaps Toto’s grandmother could answer my questions.
Ron hastily closed the apartment door behind him and walked toward the train station confusion in his mind.