Jiangxia Tongzhi turned at the sound of footsteps, spotting a middle-aged man with a receding hairline.
The man had a short nose, a mustache just under his lip, and wore casual clothes—he looked like the kind of neighbor who might wander over mid-lunch to borrow soy sauce.
Hattori Shizuka gave him a subtle once-over before nodding politely. "Yes, we're looking for Mr. Shibata. Are you his neighbor?"
"Yep." The man clearly had business of his own with Shibata. Without waiting, he brushed past Jiangxia and the others, marching up to Shibata's front door and pressing the doorbell. "We're supposed to play mahjong at my place. If you're looking for him, hurry up."
Jiangxia smiled mildly. "We already rang earlier. No answer. Maybe he's not home."
The man—Yoshikawa Takezou—shook his head knowingly. "He's probably just asleep. Last night we—" He abruptly stopped, cleared his throat, and swallowed the rest of the sentence like a suspicious dumpling.
Amuro Tooru narrowed his eyes at him, sniffing something suspicious.
Jiangxia, however, wasn't too interested. No ghost shadows around Yoshikawa's legs, and not a trace of murderous aura—this guy was harmless. Jiangxia already knew what he had clammed up about: late-night mahjong. Shibata and a few others had been playing at Yoshikawa's place into the wee hours. So Yoshikawa just assumed Shibata passed out from exhaustion and missed the doorbell.
These neighborhood uncles were clearly very chummy.
After the bell got no response, Yoshikawa didn't hesitate. He grabbed the doorknob and turned.
The door clicked open. It was shut but not locked.
Yoshikawa's face lit up in smug vindication. "See? Told you he was home." He stepped into the genkan, calling out, "Shibata? Yo, Shibata?"
Jiangxia followed without hesitation.
Amuro Tooru, a seasoned trespasser, entered just as naturally.
Hattori Shizuka hesitated for a moment. And in that moment, everyone else was already gone.
She looked at the wide-open door. Shibata had promised to wait for her at home to hand over some photos, yet he wasn't answering his phone or the door. After a moment's thought, she cautiously stepped inside too.
The house was clearly lived-in. Jiangxia passed by the living room and noted the TV was still on, half-eaten food sat on the table, and today's evening paper was folded nearby.
He moved his gaze away, preparing to check the inner rooms and hunt for clues—fodder for his inevitable "deduction moment."
But just then, the main door slammed open behind them.
A sharp, trembling voice rang out: "What are you doing?! Why are you breaking in?! I'm calling the police!"
Amuro froze. At the door stood a short-haired woman, clutching shopping bags, glaring in horror.
Judging from her tone and age, she was most likely Shibata's wife—and clearly startled to find a house full of strangers.
Amuro opened his mouth to explain—but paused. His eyes swept over the elegant, kimono-clad Hattori Shizuka, then to Jiangxia with his awkward "Oops, caught trespassing" expression.
Something felt off.
It wasn't midnight. It wasn't even early morning. Shibata wasn't some loner. In this situation, wouldn't most people assume the strangers were guests of her husband?
Why was Mrs. Shibata reacting like she'd walked into a hostage scene?
Maybe they'd been robbed before? PTSD?
He was just about to politely dig into the backstory when—
Another scream, this time from deeper inside.
It was Yoshikawa Takezou. His voice trembled with urgency: "Shibata?! What happened to you? Wake up! Shibata!!"
Jiangxia jolted forward like a reflex, dashing off toward the voice.
Hattori Shizuka blinked, then quickly followed. She mentally nodded: Such an enthusiastic child.
…
Half a minute later, everyone had gathered in the study—including the still-shellshocked Mrs. Shibata, grocery bags in hand.
Shiro Shibata lay sprawled on the floor. The hair at the crown of his head was clumped together—likely with blood.
Jiangxia crouched down, poked the body once, then withdrew his hand with a sigh. "Hard to save now."
A polite euphemism for: This one's done for.
Yoshikawa stared at the corpse, stunned. Mrs. Shibata clapped a hand over her mouth, sobbing.
Next to them, Hattori Shizuka stood solemnly. Another classic "three-choice" scene.
…
The police arrived quickly, and with them came noise and crowding.
Jiangxia drifted over to the body. He noticed that Shibata's right hand was slightly extended, clutching a rolled-up photograph.
Just that image—the photo and the grip—was enough to start fast-forwarding this investigation.
As a cooperative detective-tool person, Jiangxia didn't forcefully pry the fingers open. Instead, he loitered by the body like a polite shikigami, waiting for some overachieving officer to do the honors.
Soon enough, someone arrived—but not your average officer.
Amuro Tooru slipped in while no one was watching, camera in hand (gifted by who-knows-who). He clicked a few photos, crouched down, and carefully pulled the rolled-up image from the dead man's fingers.
He unrolled it and looked.
The photo showed a girl with a single ponytail, sad eyes brimming with tears, her hand gently stroking a medal.
Her face was vaguely familiar.
Amuro mentally compared it to the group photo from the junior high kendo club that Hattori Shizuka had shown earlier.
It matched.
The girl in the photo was none other than a younger Hattori Shizuka—thirty years ago, back when she and Shiro Shibata had been classmates.
Amuro stared for a moment, rolled the photo back up, and returned it gently to the corpse's hand.
Then he rose, met Jiangxia's curious gaze, and muttered lowly, "Don't let your feelings for the suspect cloud your judgment."
Murder doesn't discriminate. Anyone can be killed. Anyone can kill. Even a high-ranking official's wife…
But even as he said it, Amuro couldn't shake the feeling that something didn't add up.
He stood silent, eyes falling again on the photo clenched tightly in Shibata's cold hand.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 36/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:2/10*