Free EDGE by Kôji Suzuki Page B

and the postcard from her father. Each floor was organized by subject. Saeko climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, where the science books were kept.
    She had studied here frequently during junior high and high school, but after her father’s disappearance she had completely stopped coming. The familiar smell of the library brought on a rush of nostalgic childhood memories. She’d come here a number of times at the end of one spring vacation to work on “homework” after returning from her grandparents’ home in Atami. She had been given the assignment at a cycling park in Izu she’d visited with her father.
    Saeko’s father had been extremely busy in those days and was often away on overseas business trips. He regretted not being able to spend more time with his daughter and decided it would be best for everyone if Saeko spent the vacation with her grandparents in Atami. Saeko was perfectly happy with the plan—it would be more fun to spend spring break being spoiled by her grandparents.
    Saeko’s grandparents had lavished her with affection, almost as if they knew they would pass away the following year. By early April when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, just as her grandparents’ dotingattentions were beginning to wear on Saeko, her father’s trip overseas was unexpectedly cut short, and he took advantage of the down time to return to his parents’ home in Atami. He arrived early in the morning and crept up to whisper in his sleeping daughter’s ear, “Sae, wake up! It’s Daddy.”
    When she opened her eyes to the sight of her father’s face, Saeko was flooded with relief. She sat up quickly, elated to see him. She was staying in a ten-mat tatami room that looked out over a large veranda, and it was far too much space for one person. Sitting cross-legged in the faint morning light, Saeko’s father made the room seem less gaping and empty, and his warmth drove away the early morning chill. She leaned forward over the covers, savoring the softness of the blankets. She was tempted to go back to sleep, confident that if she did, her dreams would be trouble-free.
    Did nightmares feed on anxiety? When Saeko’s father was away, she often dreamed of his death. She would awaken with a start, her pulse still racing, anxious to see her father and make sure he was all right. But if he wasn’t there, a lingering apprehension plagued her until his return. And when he was traveling on business, she didn’t feel better until he made it home safe and sound. Saeko’s father knew this and made a point of calling her every night at eight o’clock whenever he was away.
    Saeko’s fear of losing her sole protector was intense. Her grandparents gave her plenty of affection, but they could never replace her father. His unconditional love for her flooded her heart. Her sensitive nature made her vivid imaginings of his death all the more overwhelming, and she had cried herself to sleep on countless occasions just imagining the sadness of a world without her father. When she visited a shrine at New Year’s or other occasions, she always prayed that her father lead a long life.
    That early morning in spring, Saeko’s father had rubbed his daughter’s back as she slumped face down on her futon.
    “I want to go for a drive, Sae. Will you come with me?” he asked. Despite his all-nighter, his voice was full of energy.
    In the end, they went to Cycle Park in Izu, quite a distance from Atami. After Saeko’s father had taken a quick two-hour nap, they zipped merrily towards the Izu skyline.
    True to its name, Cycle Park was a theme park dedicated to attractions related to bicycling, organized into a number of zones. There was a zone featuring activities like the Cycle Coaster and Cycle Monorail, a water zone with a swimming pool that opened in the summer, a hot spring area, restaurants, and even a miniature golf course. But the main features of the park were the five-kilometer road bike and two-kilometer