Hard Rain

just because the
    government says you can? Or you drop a bomb from thirty thousand feet
    to kill the bad guys, you bury women and children under the rubble of
    their own homes in the process, but you're not bothered because you
    didn't actually have to see the damage, that's moral? I don't hide
    behind mortar range, or behind the cartoon image in the thermal scope
    of a sniper's rifle, or behind the medals they give you afterward to
    reassure you that the slaughter was just. All that shit is an
    illusion, a soporific fed to killers to anesthetize them after they've
    killed. What I do is no worse than what goes on all over the world,
    what has always gone on. The difference is that I'm honest about
    it."
    I was quiet for a while, thinking.
    "And how about a little slack?" I said. "Her old man was set to check
    out from lung cancer anyway, in a lot more pain than what I caused him.
    Whatever happened to "no harm, no foul"? I mean, I practically did him
    a favor. Hell, in some cultures what I did wouldn't be looked at as
    much more than euthanasia. She almost ought to thank me for it."
    Things had been okay for me in Osaka, reasonably okay. Looking back, I
    felt like it had all been falling apart since Tatsu had showed up.
    I thought about taking him out. There were a dozen reasons why I
    didn't want to. The problem was, he was beginning to act like he knew
    I didn't want to, and that wasn't good.
    I needed to get back to Osaka, finish my preparations as quickly as I
    could, and go. Tatsu could handle himself. Harry was hopeless. Midori
    knew what she'd come here to learn. Naomi was sweet, but she'd served
    her purpose.
    I stood. My legs had stiffened on the cool ground and I massaged some
    blood back into them. I bowed to my father's grave, then stood looking
    at it for a long time.
    "Jaa," I said finally. Then: Arigatou."
    I turned and walked out.
    Fifteen.
    The next morning, I went out to a pay phone and called Harry. He'd
    done a lot for me over the years and I felt bad about the way we'd
    parted. I knew he'd be bothered by it, and that bothered me.
    An unfamiliar male voice answered his phone. "Moshi moshi?"
    "Moshi moshi," I said, my brow furrowing. " Haruyoshi-san irasshaimasu
    ka?" Is Haruyoshi there?
    There was a pause. "Are you a friend of Haruyoshi's?" the voice asked
    me in Japanese.
    "I am. Is everything all right?"
    "This is Haruyoshi's uncle. I regret to inform you that he passed away
    last night."
    I gripped the phone tightly and closed my eyes. I thought of the last
    thing he'd said to me: Look, I'm going to see her tonight. I'll watch
    more closely. I'll keep in mind what you've said.
    He'd gone to see her, all right. But he hadn't kept anything in
    mind.
    "Forgive me for asking," I said, my eyes still closed, 'but can you
    tell me how Haruyoshi passed away?"
    There was another pause. "It seems that Haruyoshi had drunk a bit too
    much, and had gone up to the roof of his building for a walk.
    Apparently he came too close to the edge and lost his balance."
    I gripped the phone harder. I'd never known Harry to drink. Certainly
    not excessively. Although I knew he might
    try all sorts of new things if Yukiko were there to urge him on.
    "Thank you for informing me," I said to the voice. "Please accept my
    deepest condolences on this sad occasion. Please convey these
    sentiments to Harry's parents. I will say a prayer for his spirit."
    "Thank you," the voice said.
    I put the phone back in its cradle.
    My gut told me that what I'd just heard had been legitimate. Still, I
    called the police box in his neighborhood to make sure. I told the cop
    who answered that I was a friend of Haruyoshi Fukasawa, that I'd heard
    there had been bad news. The cop confirmed that Harry was dead. A
    fall. Apparently an accident. He told me he was sorry. I thanked him
    and hung up.
    I stood there for a moment, feeling miserable and strangely alone.
    They'd gotten what they wanted from him. They were tying up loose
    ends.
    Well, there was nothing I could do for him now. I'd tried to help him
    when it mattered. Now it was too late.
    In some ways it was my fault. I'd known Yukiko was dangerous to him,
    but all I did was tell him about my suspicions. What I should have
    done was said nothing to him, and just made her have a little accident.
    Harry would have grieved, but he'd still be alive.
    I realized I was grinding my teeth and made myself stop.
    I thought of how happy he'd been when he'd first told me about her, how
    shy and sappy