was no. Now wasn’t the time to think about it anyway. She was in too fragile a state for that. Besides, she had things to do.
She sniffed, wiped her nose, and got up to open the box. The cap was on top. She plopped it on her head, covering her ridiculous mostly bald spot, and held the jacket up in front of her as if to imagine herself wearing it in front of a mirror. “Well? What do you think?”
“I think you’re fucked. You’re not planning on wearing that to the ceremony, are you?”
“Um . . . yeah?”
“Right out of the box? Mariko, you’re supposed to have it dry-cleaned.”
Mariko thought about that for a second. No one had ever worn this uniform. It wasn’t dirty. It didn’t stink. She was missing something.
“Wrinkles!” Han said. He’d have thrown his hands up in despair if only he had two good hands. Instead he managed a kind of flailing motion. “It’s a dress uniform. It’s supposed to look, you know, dressy.”
“I don’t really do dressy.”
“No shit.” He flailed again. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I thought you said I was amazing.”
“You’re a jackass is what you are.”
Mariko laughed out loud. It had been a long time since she’d done that. “You think Sakakibara will give me one more day?”
“Are you kidding? He’ll skin you, stuff you, and use you as a punching bag. His words. He said he’d hang you in the police academy gym so all the new recruits could whale on you.”
Mariko laughed again. “Okay, so what now?”
Han shoved the last of the beers in her hand. “Drink this. Fast.”
“Han, I can’t show up drunk to the ceremony.”
“Trust me, you’ll sober right up when you find out how much one-hour dry cleaning costs.”
* * *
“It’s about damn time,” Sakakibara said when Mariko showed up in her spotless, wrinkle-free uniform. Mariko’s eyes flicked frantically to the wall clock, afraid she was late. Then, seeing she was five minutes early, she realized he meant she should have done this two weeks ago.
It hadn’t occurred to her how many people would be involved in this ceremony. She figured the usual: someone getting pinned, someone to do the pinning, maybe a photographer or two. Her mother, Saori, and Han should have doubled attendance. The department’s pressroom wasn’t big, just a nice little stage and a few dozen seats. Most of those seats should have been empty.
Instead it was standing room only. A complete press corps filled the front row. All the top brass were there. The governor himself was on stage, chatting idly in the wings with the chief of police. No wonder Sakakibara was pissed about rescheduling this thing.
At the chief’s insistence, three reporters were moved to stand in the aisle so Mariko’s mother could sit front and center, her little pocket camera at the ready. Saori sat to her left, Han to her right. Mariko could see them through the door, which she’d opened just the tiniest sliver.
“You ready for this?” Sakakibara asked.
“Hell no, sir. What are all these people doing here?”
He shut the door. “Frodo, you took down the most dangerous criminal this country has ever seen. That’s the kind of thing the governor shows up for. So for once in your life, pay attention to etiquette. He’s going to give you a very deep bow. What are you going to do?”
“Bow back even deeper, sir?”
“Damn right you will. You’ll accept your medal, you’ll accept your sergeant’s tags, and you’ll do it without freaking out or getting weepy. Is that clear?”
Mariko smiled. “Yes, sir.”
He scowled at her, but it was a different kind of scowl than she’d seen from him before. “One more thing,” he said. “I suppose you think I’m pretty proud of you.”
“Are you, sir?”
“Hell, no. You did your damn job. What do you want, a cookie?”
Her smile broadened. “No, sir.”
“All right, then. Let’s get your damn medal.”
GLOSSARY
Amaterasu: sun goddess and goddess of the universe, from whom the Emperor of Japan is said to be a direct descendant
arare: rice crackers usually flavored with soy sauce or seaweed
Bizen: a style of unglazed pottery
bokken: solid wooden training sword, usually of oak
boryokudan: the term used by police, and in the media at the behest of the police, for organized crime syndicates in Japan (literally “violent crime organization”)
bunraku: a traditional art of puppetry using ornate, lifelike puppets
bushido: the way of the warrior
chunin: a midlevel lieutenant in a ninja clan (literally “middle person”)
CI: Confidential Informant
daisho: katana and wakizashi together, the twin swords of the samurai (literally “big-little”)