“Urgh, this is such a drag…” Officer Kawada groaned, warming his fingers on his hot takeaway cup.
“You’ve been complaining for the last hour.” Officer Honda clicked his teeth. “Orders are orders. Now keep your mouth shut and your eyes open.”
Officer Yuuki Honda was your typical yes-man and had excelled at the academy. He was gunning for top brass one day; Commissioner General, if he had his way. 
Needs to pull that stick out of his ass, Kawada thought, the fidgety tapping of his standard-issue shoes hardly making a ripple in the pool of noise. His gaze wandered lazily over the hordes of people coming and going through the main entrance of Ōmiya Station.

When he was young, he used to think train stations were like the ‘Anywhere Door’ from Doraemon—a magical portal capable of transporting thousands of people all over Japan. Through his adult eyes, it appeared painfully mundane—normal people on normal commutes.

“How can we keep an eye out if we don’t even know what we’re looking for? ‘Anyone suspicious’ doesn’t really narrow it down.”

“Anyone with unreasonably over-sized bags, children travelling alone, lone middle-aged men looking nervous—use your imagination,” Officer Honda replied, arms crossed. 

Kawada sighed as he smoothed his hair back; the summer’s humidity was wreaking its usual havoc. “Other prefectures don’t have extra patrols. What’s so special about here?” 

“I’ve heard rumours, but none that hold water. It’s what we’ve been told to do, that’s all that matters. You need to know how to follow orders if you want to make a career of this.” Most of their conversations were ten percent speaking and ninety percent awkward silences. 

A mother with her young daughter stole a glance at them when they walked past. She must think there’s some kind of criminal on the loose or something, Kawada thought, knowing their presence was probably scaring more people than it was comforting. Especially with Officer Honda looking like a drill sergeant. All he needed was an assault rifle and S.W.A.T vest and the look would be complete. 

“We can’t watch out for trouble if we die of boredom first. You’re from Saitama, right?” Kawada asked. He was desperate for anything to take his mind off the residual hum of the swarm. It was like being inside a beehive after someone shook it a few times. 
“Yes, why?”
“You must have some stories. What did you do when you were a kid? Anything interesting?” Kawada tried to picture Officer Honda as a normal, easy-going kid.

“Can’t be much different from growing up in… where are you from again? Osaka? Anyway, it’s hard to think of something on the spot like that,” Officer Honda replied, his eyes darting from person to person as he scanned the masses. “Ah, there is one thing—scared me to death when I was in middle school.”

“This sounds promising.”

“Me and a couple of friends were just leaving school, later than usual since we got caught up playing baseball, when I noticed a window on the fourth floor of the main building was open. It was hard to miss with the curtains being pulled out, waving in the wind. That’s when my friend first told me about Teketeke.” 

“Never heard of it.” Kawada noticed a group of high school kids heading towards the West Exit. One of them carried a large sports bag, big enough to fit a small child. The boy wore a cap and a baseball glove, so Kawada didn’t bother searching his bag.

“It’s an urban legend, especially around Saitama. A boy leaves school late, after dark, when he sees a girl through an open window on the second floor, leaning with her elbows on the windowsill.”

“A girl scared you shitless?” Kawada said, drinking down the last of his coffee and tossing it into the recycling bin next to them. “I’m not surprised—they’re all pretty fucking scary.”

“Very funny. The fact that she was inside an all-boys’ school after the gates had all been locked didn’t help,” Officer Honda replied, clicking his teeth again. “A real beauty, too, apparently. But after he called out to her, he found out that she was somewhat… lacking.”

“Lacking what?”

“Her lower body.” 

Kawada scrunched up his nose. “Sounds like a bad joke.”

“Maybe now that we’re adults, but it was a terrifying story as a kid. The sound she made was even scarier. The boy turned to run, but all he could hear behind him was the sound of her dragging herself along the ground. That’s why they call her Teketeke—scritch scratch.”

“So, what happened to the kid?” Kawada asked. His eyes trailed after a stunning woman in a long white dress and designer sunhat. Her wavy black hair was slightly frizzy in the humidity, but she was beautiful, nonetheless. Maybe I should search her bag.

“He was found the next morning cut in half, his lower body missing.”

“That’s disgusting… You talk about it as if it actually happened.”

“It did, in a way. The story even made the papers. The boy did actually go missing, but they didn’t find his mutilated corpse. They didn’t find him at all. There was a surge of missing children cases back then. But it’s just a silly legend—nothing to lose sleep over.”

“Is that a fact?” Sergeant Sasaki’s deep baritone voice tore them from their conversation.

The veteran police officer had not a hair out of place, although the odd wisp of grey affirmed his advancing age. He stared at them, his eyes critical and accusing. Deep, dark circles under his eyes made him look old and haggard. 

I wonder how ancient the old goat really is, Kawada thought.

“Care to tell me why you’re standing here talking instead of patrolling the rest of the station? There’s more to look at than just this area. The North, South, and East Exits, for example. Did it even cross your minds to check people going on and off the platforms? Not everyone gets off here.” 

“No, sir. I’m sorry, sir. We were just—” Officer Honda tried to explain, when Sergeant Sasaki cut him off, his voice sharp as a switchblade. 

“Take my advice. Don’t talk about that story or those missing children cases again. Not at our station, not at any station in Saitama, or I will personally oversee your transfers. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir…” In less than a minute, Officer Honda had lost all colour. His forehead glistened with fresh sweat. 

“Good. Now come with me. If you look up ‘patrol’ in the dictionary, I think you’ll find that it says, ‘to watch over an area by walking or travelling around it.’” Sergeant Sasaki walked on ahead of them, his head turning left and right. 

Jeez, no need to bite our heads off. It’s not like anyone died, Kawada thought, his lips pursed as they headed towards the entrance to the nearest platform. The stairs were crammed with people. Kawada tried not to accidentally jab anyone with his elbow while he made his way down. 

A hard jolt to the side made Kawada cry out. “Hey!” 

A man in a navy blue cap and black t-shirt quickened his pace and passed Kawada, pulling his cap further over his face.

Asshole. Could’ve at least apologised, Kawada thought bitterly.

Sergeant Sasaki was already ahead of them on the platform, his face strained with concentration as he scanned both sides of the platforms. Kawada followed his lead. Most of the crowd was condensed to the right side of the platform, bound for Higashi-Ōmiya. Several women (housewives, judging by their clothes), elementary school kids in bright coloured hats, as well as high schoolers glued to their phones. Nothing odd there. Although Kawada wondered how the hell they could navigate the crowded platform without looking up.

He spotted the man in the blue cap crossing from the left platform to the right side; no phone in his hand, but also with his head bowed low.
He didn’t look up even once. 

Kawada snorted. That explains a lot. No wonder he bumps into people if he doesn’t bother to look where he’s going. 
Suddenly, Sergeant Sasaki’s head snapped to the right before hurrying to the platform bound for Higashi-Ōmiya. 

“Is something wrong?” Officer Honda whispered to Kawada. Kawada shrugged. 

“Beats me.”

The familiar sound of an ascending xylophone scale followed by a pre-recorded female voice announcing the train’s arrival, blasted over the intercom. 

まもなく、一番線に東大宮方面行きがまいります。 
The train bound for Higashi-Ōmiya will arrive momentarily at Platform One. 
危ないですから黄色い線までお下がりください。
Please wait behind the yellow line.

Kawada’s gaze trailed after Sergeant Sasaki, who was making a beeline towards the man in the blue cap. 

What am I missing…? His eyes darted from person to person, his heart beating hard and fast the longer he took to find that one missing link. He finally fixed on a little girl, only about six years old, waiting behind the yellow line for the train. She’d taken off her bright yellow school hat, making her almost invisible.

Sergeant Sasaki was already beside her, crouching down as he spoke. 

The man in the blue cap stopped, turned on his heels, and hurried in the opposite direction. Kawada motioned for Officer Honda to follow the man while he made his way over to Sergeant Sasaki. “You two stay here and keep an eye on things while I see this little one home,” Sergeant Sasaki said, smiling down at the girl. It was the most human expression Kawada had ever seen him make, almost paternal. Looking back, Officer Honda shook his head. The man was long gone. 

“How did you notice that guy so quickly, sir? I only thought his behaviour was suspicious after following your lead,” Kawada whispered so the little girl couldn’t overhear. 

“You have to notice these things, Kawada. People’s lives depend on it.” Sergeant Sasaki took the girl’s hand and escorted her onto the train. “I’ll be back soon. Kawada, you keep watch here. Honda, you patrol the rest of the station. Don’t trust anybody.” The train doors slid shut, and the train sped off. 

“What was that all about?” Officer Honda asked, wiping his forehead with his pocket handkerchief. 

“That girl might have been kidnapped if Sergeant Sasaki hadn’t been here,” Kawada said, staring at the ground, full of self-loathing.

He’d thought of this as a shit assignment with no real merit.
But Sergeant Sasaki just proved that what they did or didn’t notice could change someone’s life forever.