Chapter Seventeen - Asako Kato
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Asako Kato
ASAKO’S PHONE CHIMED as she entered the Turner Student Union, she stomped hard knocking the snow from her boots. She had a full day planned. First coffee from the campus coffee shop, Thanks A Latte, and then up to her cubicle for a full day of research on Sylva Clearwater and Naomi Halston.
She was getting close to break in this case she could feel it.
As she walked through the busy student union, students bustled to and from. The Turner Student Union was the newest addition to campus with its modern open-concept lobby adorn with couches, armchairs, and communal tables where students gathered between classes. The whole space was flooded with natural light from the endless blue Colorado sky.
Asako passed the information desk staffed by eager student employees ready to assist with directions to class, campus events, resources, and directions.
The scent of the fresh coffee drew her closer and closer to her second favorite place on campus Thanks A Latte —the first being her cubicle in the Ledger newsroom . A cozy and stylish coffee shop located just off the main lobby of the union, Asako lived for a dark but sweet cup of coffee.
“Hi, Asako! The usual?” Eddy said. He was a handsome barista with a tight blue T-shirt with a stylized SSU Lion emblem. His shirt revealed a sculpted physique and dreads that were pulled back and away from his face. He wore round black-framed glasses that accentuated his tan complexion.
“You know me too well, Eddy,” Asako said leaning on the counter. A feeling rose in her stomach as she watched Eddy reach for a ceramic cup and expertly prepare her medium Americano. She reveled in the clicking and clacking of the portafilter as he loaded it with dark earthy coffee grounds. Tamping it down gently, he inserted it into the machine.
“Working on any big stories?” Eddy asked, as he casually looked up. The machine hissed and soon a dark, rich liquid streamed into the cup.
Asako hesitated, she wasn’t in the mood to get into the details. At least, not before the coffee.
“You could say that,” She said distractedly, pulling the phone from her pocket and checking her email. Her heart dropped, an email from her editor.
Eddy chuckled softly and moved to the hot water spout. He topped off the espresso and gently set it at the end of the bar. “Hopefully this will get those journalistic juices flowing. Want your blueberry Danish too?”
“What?” Asako said, looking up from her phone. “Yeah, please.”
Asako stared at her phone, the email reading:
Subject: Ferris Wheel Story
Feedback: “Get an eyewitness quote”
Eddy glided to the other side of the bar and grabbed a large pair of tongs and pulled a glistening blueberry danish from the display case setting it on a plate.
Eddy gave her the total and she mindlessly pulled her Student ID from her back pocket and paid the tab.
“Enjoy!” Eddy chirped.
Asako grabbed the coffee and pastry and made her way to a table, “Thanks,” she mumbled, her mood souring.
Sitting down, she sighed heavily. More of this stupid Ferris wheel story. Her editor was a dog with a bone. She sipped the coffee and grimaced. Then, looked up from her phone, grabbing three packets of sugar she dumped the into the cup and stirred, re-reading the email. Her editor loved the story but wanted an eyewitness quote and would not be deterred.
What was the deal with the “eye witness quote?” After interviewing the carnie, she sent off her draft and said no quote was available. Asako was surprised the editor was still pushing the Ferris wheel story, it was practically old news. Printing it now, it would just get buried under an avalanche of finals coverage, student protests, and the basketball team making it to the state finals.
Taking a bite of her blueberry Danish, she pulled the notepad from her leather tote. She wanted to get on with the Naomi Halston story, but she couldn’t brush her editor's demands so easily. The campus newspaper wasn’t just a job, it was her lifeline. The check it provided covered a large chunk of her scholarship and tuition. This meant relenting, no matter how silly the story seemed. Rifling through her notepad she found the page with Ethan Hernandez and Jason Havelock underlined.
There wasn’t much to the story, but she supposed the bit about a student being seen leaving with a head injury was likely what kept her editor nipping at her heels for a quote. Otherwise, the story was a fluke — some mechanical failure during the campus. A few students had been trapped on the Ferris wheel briefly before carnival staff could get them down. No one was seriously hurt, but there was buzz on social media about the whole event. Students claiming “administrative neglect,” a few posts hinted that the SSU administration had hired a third-rate company to manage the rides. Asako found this hard to believe, she spoke to the ride operator and he seemed genuinely shocked by the malfunction. She had left out the quote from the carnie, just seemed like the ethical thing to do.
Pulling out her laptop, Asako pulled up the campus directory and typed in Ethan’s name: His profile photo popped up: a standard ID photo of a young man with thick black hair and a guarded expression. Asako tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at the photo. A twinge of recognition nagged her.
“Why do I know him?” She murmured, clicking on the profile to see if anything rang a bell. “Did we have a class together?” The profile was light on personal information — email address and a link to the campus-based instant messaging feature. She couldn’t place him, Ethan seemed familiar.
But nothing sprang to mind — no shared courses, no overlapping clubs. There was something familiar about his face, the expression, and wavy jet-black hair. She shook off the thought and typed in Jason’s name.
His profile loaded just as quickly. Jason’s photo were nearly the opposite of Ethan’s. Short auburn hair, a dusting of freckles, and a big, warm smile. His photo looked like he was smirking at a joke made by someone off-camera. Asako frowned, scrolling through Jason’s profile. No information jumped out, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t here to make friends. Opening the university messaging system, she drafted two identical messages:
Subject: Ferris Wheel Story — Campus Newspaper.
Hi Jason/Ethan,
My name is Asako Kato and I’m a reporter for the Ledger. I’m writing about the Ferris wheel incident from earlier this semester. I understand you were there present during the malfunction and I’d like to get a brief quote from you about your experience. It would help me complete my story.
Let me know if you’d like to meet in person, or feel free to reply here. Thanks for your time.
Best,
Asako
Her mouse hovered over the ‘send’ button, she felt a wave of fatigue wash over her. Leaning back in her chair, she stared at the screen, willing some part of her to ignite with interest in the story.
But nothing came.
The Ferris wheel story wasn’t what she wanted to write — she could remotely care less. But for now, it would have to do. She closed her laptop and returned to her coffee and Danish. Part of her doubted Jason or Ethan checked their campus messages. Asako had been in several classes where professors complaining about students not checking their campus messenger or email. It wasn’t much but at least she was one step closer to being done with this damn story. She took another sip of her Americano which was lukewarm by now, something about Ethan’s photo continued to niggle at her.
Why did he look so familiar? There was something behind those dark, guarded eyes. She dismissed the thought, Naomi Halston was her priority, and Asako could not lose focus.