"The fisherman does not chase the wise old fish. He learns the currents, finds the quiet pools, and offers the one bait the fish cannot ignore."
– An old Kaishi Proverb
RIKU'S APARTMENT - SATURDAY EVENING
The image of Takeda Masaru was a brand on Riku's mind.
He spent the evening in his small apartment. The city lights of Torai painted silent, shifting patterns on his wall.
The adrenaline of the discovery had faded. It left behind the cold, enormous weight of the real problem.
The hunt was over. But the hunt had been the easy part.
He spread his notes on the low wooden table. Arakawa's photograph. The map of Kichijoji. The faded blue box of Prometheus OS.
They were pieces of a puzzle. Artifacts of a ghost's life.
His analytical mind began to break down the monumental task ahead.
A direct confrontation was out. A man who had spent five years building a fortress of silence would not respond to a battering ram. He would bolt. The ghost would vanish for good.
He could contact Arakawa. It was his lead. His former partner. But that would be ceding control. It would be admitting that Arakawa's test had been too difficult. Riku had been tasked with hunting. He would not hand his catch off to another.
That left the subtle approach. The slow game.
He had to become a part of Takeda's quiet, analog world. Only then could he hope to change it.
.....
KICHIJOJI - THE FOLLOWING WEEK
On Monday, Riku's first action was to send a fax. He went to a public machine in a convenience store far from his office or home. The message to Arakawa was concise, professional, and deliberately vague.
Target acquired. Commencing observation. Will advise before initiating contact. - H.
It was a soldier's report. It confirmed success. It asserted control. It promised an update without giving away any actionable intelligence. It kept the architect in his tower while the man on the ground did his work.
The rest of the week was a masterclass in patience.
Every day, Riku performed his duties at Watanabe & Sons. His focus on the tariff codes was absolute. He gave Sato-san no new reason for her watchful suspicion to escalate.
But every evening, he took the train to Kichijoji.
He did not go to the coffee shop again. Surveillance from a distance was not enough. He had to enter the ghost's habitat.
His first visit to "Tome & Thought" was on a Tuesday. Takeda was not there. The kindly, scholarly-looking older man, Mr. Morisaki, was at the counter.
Riku's heart pounded as he stepped inside. The chime of a small brass bell announced his presence. The air smelled of aging paper, ink, and brewed tea. It was a small, narrow space. The towering, dark-wood shelves gave it a cathedral-like reverence. The silence was not empty; it was full, a comfortable weight.
Riku browsed for twenty minutes. He noted the sections. Philosophy next to poetry. History beside classic literature. And in a small, well-lit nook at the back, a meticulously curated collection of rare science and technical manuals.
He bought a slim volume of Kaishi philosophy. He exchanged a polite nod with Mr. Morisaki, and left.
He returned on Thursday. This time, he browsed the technical section. He saw old textbooks on programming languages that were ancient history to him. He found biographies of scientists from this world's Continental Concord. He bought a book on the history of Kurogane Heavy Industries.
Again, Takeda was not there.
Riku was becoming a familiar, quiet presence. A non-threatening customer with esoteric tastes. He was learning the store's rhythm. He was mapping the currents.
.....
RIKU'S APARTMENT - FRIDAY EVENING
By Friday, he knew he had to prepare the bait.
A simple conversation would not be enough. He needed something to bridge the gap between two worlds. Something only Takeda would understand.
He spent the evening at his small table. The blue box of Prometheus OS was open before him. He wasn't a programmer of Takeda's genius. But he was from the future. He understood the destination Takeda had been striving for.
He took out a simple, black-covered notebook and began to write.
He did not write code. He wrote a proposal. A design document for a piece of software that did not exist.
He gave it a simple, academic title: "On Heuristic Operating Kernels: A Framework for Predictive User Interface."
He filled three pages with dense, technical prose. He wrote about neural nets that could adapt to user habits. He described algorithms that would surface information before a user knew they needed it. He outlined a system architecture that learned, that evolved.
Crucially, he wrote it all using the terminology of the 1990s. He built an impossible future using only the tools of the past.
It was a message in a bottle, sent backwards across a sea of time.
It was a lure.
.....
TOME & THOUGHT - SATURDAY AFTERNOON
Riku walked through the streets of Kichijoji. The black notebook was a heavy weight in his coat pocket.
When he entered "Tome & Thought," the bell chimed. He saw him.
Takeda Masaru was at the counter, arranging a new display of books.
Riku's breath hitched. He forced himself to remain calm. He gave a quiet nod. Takeda returned it with a distracted, neutral glance. The ghost had seen him, but only as another customer.
He spent ten minutes Browse the philosophy section. He picked out a book he had no intention of reading. He walked to the counter.
The proximity to the man he had hunted for so long was dizzying.
Takeda's presence was one of profound stillness. He was a black hole, absorbing the light and noise around him.
"Just this one today," Riku said quietly.
Takeda took the book. He rang up the sale. Riku paid in cash, his hands steady.
As Takeda placed the book in a simple paper bag, Riku placed his other books and his black notebook on the counter to free up his hands.
"Thank you," Riku said, taking the bag. He then picked up his other books. He deliberately "forgot" the black notebook. It sat innocuously on the edge of the counter.
He turned and walked out of the store. The bell chimed his exit.
He didn't look back. He walked to the corner of the street. He slipped into the doorway of another shop. His eyes were fixed on the entrance of "Tome & Thought."
The bait was in the water. The trap was set.
He watched as Takeda finished with another customer. He saw his eyes drift down to the counter. He saw him notice the forgotten black notebook.
He watched as Takeda picked it up. His brow was furrowed in mild curiosity.
And then, he watched as Takeda Masaru began to read.