"A secret is a map known to only one. To find the treasure, you must first find the cartographer."
– From a Kaishi spy novel, The Shadow of the Chrysanthemum
DENKI-GAI - FRIDAY NIGHT
The cool night air of the Denki-gai felt electric on Riku's skin.
He and Kenji stepped out of the cramped software shop. The faded blue box was tucked securely under his arm. It was a fragile relic that felt heavier than its weight.
"Two thousand yen for that piece of junk?" Kenji whistled, shaking his head. "Hayashi-san, you are one serious hobbyist. You could have bought twenty bowls of ramen with that!"
Riku winced internally. Kenji wasn't wrong. The two thousand yen was a painful sacrifice from his carefully budgeted food money.
But he forced a smile. "A piece of history is priceless," he said.
In truth, it was a screaming bargain for the name he'd found on the back. Arakawa Shinji.
"If you say so," Kenji chuckled. He clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, the treasure hunt was a success!"
The easy camaraderie felt good. But it was shadowed by a pang of guilt. Kenji offered honest friendship. Riku was using it as a tool.
He pushed the thought away. "Thank you for showing me the way, Kenji-san. I never would have found it without you."
"Anytime, my friend. Anytime."
........
TORAI PUBLIC LIBRARY - SATURDAY MORNING
After parting ways, Riku's mind snapped back to the hunt.
Takeda Masaru was the visionary. But Arakawa Shinji, the designer, was a different kind of target. Designers left a trail.
The next morning, Riku was back at the library. His strategy had evolved. He approached the main reference desk.
"Excuse me," he said to the kindly-looking librarian. "I'm looking for professional directories or archives. Specifically for graphic and industrial design from the last ten years."
She led him to a quiet, dusty corner he hadn't discovered yet. The special collections archive.
The shelves were filled with bound volumes of old trade magazines, conference proceedings, and guild yearbooks. It was the library's nervous system. It was exactly what he needed.
He started with the Kaishi Industrial Designers' Guild member directories. One for each of the last ten years.
The work was tedious. His eyes grew sore from the tiny print. He found dozens of Arakawas, but no Shinji.
He moved on to conference proceedings. His fingers flipped through glossy pages. Hours bled into one another.
Hope, once a bright flame, dwindled to a guttering wick.
He was about to give up. He spotted a thin, unassuming journal tucked between two thick volumes: Form & Function: A Journal of Kaishi Design.
He picked it up. It was an issue from six years ago. He flipped through it, his expectations low.
And then he saw it.
It was a small article announcing the winners of the "New Vision Design Award."
The third-place prize was for an "intuitive user interface for home computing."
The lead designer was listed as Arakawa Shinji. A recent graduate of the Torai Institute of Art and Design.
Riku's breath caught. A university. It was a solid, concrete lead.
........
The library didn't have alumni directories for the Institute. But Riku knew an art school would have public exhibitions with catalogs.
He spent the next hour with the library's collection. His search was now narrowed to a specific school and time frame.
He finally found it in a graduation showcase catalog from seven years prior.
There, on page thirty-four, a black-and-white photo leaped out at him. A young man with intense eyes and a confident smile, standing next to a computer displaying a crude but graphical interface.
Arakawa Shinji - Communication Design.Thesis Project: The Digital Canvas.Current Employment: Koyama Marketing & Advertising.
Riku felt a jolt of adrenaline so powerful it made his hands shake.
He had him.
Koyama Marketing & Advertising. A current employer.
He quickly found the address in a business directory. An office building in the upscale Shinjin district.
........
He left the library. The name and address were clutched in his hand like a winning lottery ticket.
The sun was setting. It painted the sky in brilliant strokes of orange and purple.
He had tracked the ghost's partner from a dusty box to a specific place on the map.
But the next step was the most dangerous.
He couldn't just walk in and ask for the man. He needed a plan. A pretext for a low-level office worker from a textile company to be seeking out a designer at a trendy advertising agency.
As he rode the tram home, he stared out the window. The city lights blurred past. He saw an advertisement on a passing billboard for a popular brand of soda, its logo bright and cheerful. The kind of ad Arakawa probably designed every day.
An idea began to form. It was audacious and risky. But he had no other choice.
The hunt was over.
The approach was about to begin.