Facing Hayashi Shuichi's sharp interrogation, President Okawa shook his head frantically. "I didn't! Mari and I... our relationship was wonderful. How could I possibly lay a hand on her?"
"If you didn't touch her, then where did these marks come from?"
Seeing him continue to stall, Inspector Samezaki grew incensed. He grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him directly toward the corpse, lifting the fabric of the victim's clothing to force Okawa to look at the bruises marring Mari Ogasawara's skin.
"We've already examined her. These injuries are the result of long-term, repeated trauma. If it wasn't you, then you tell me—who did this?"
"It was him! He beat my sister!" Yuto Ogasawara shouted, his face twisted with pure loathing. "I asked Onee-san about it before. She admitted it—she said he was the one who caused these injuries!"
"President Okawa," Samezaki said, his voice dropping to a low, cold threat. "If you cannot provide a satisfactory explanation, we will be forced to take you back to the Metropolitan Police Department as a suspect in a manslaughter investigation."
Under the predatory glares of the gathered officers, Okawa's legs began to shake uncontrollably. He hesitated for a long beat, his teeth grinding together, before a look of desperate resignation washed over his face.
"...Fine! I'll tell you!"
With trembling hands, Okawa fumbled with the buttons of his expensive suit jacket. He yanked up his shirt, revealing a torso that was equally covered in a map of faded and fresh scars.
"Those marks weren't from a beating! They were... they were from a game! An intimate game Mari and I played!"
"What?"
The crowd fell silent, as if a bolt of lightning had struck the riverbank. Every face was a mask of shock and utter disbelief.
Hayashi Shuichi hadn't expected such a sordid revelation. He blinked, momentarily stunned. However, he quickly noticed that Yuto Ogasawara didn't seem particularly surprised. The young man remained fixated on Okawa, his eyes burning with a hatred so intense it felt like he wanted to tear the President apart piece by piece.
"What kind of 'intimate game'?" The elderly Inspector Samezaki asked, his brow furrowed in deep confusion.
"It's..." Inspector Megure coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat as he leaned in to whisper a low explanation. "Some couples seek out... extreme stimulation. They use things like whips, hitting, or dripping wax to increase the pleasure of the moment."
"This..." Samezaki looked absolutely floored, his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit an egg. "Are young people today really this depraved?"
"It's only a small minority," Megure defended quickly, though his ears were red. "Most young people are perfectly normal."
As he spoke, he subconsciously stole a glance at Hayashi Shuichi. In his heart, he silently added: And Hayashi-kun is part of that minority.
Megure still vividly remembered the night Eri Kisaki had used handcuffs to lock Shuichi up, forcing him into a session of "import and export trade." She had then forgotten where she'd put the key, forcing Shuichi to call Megure in the middle of the night to come rescue him with a spare.
Though Megure's trip had ultimately been in vain, from that night on, he had firmly categorized Hayashi Shuichi as a man with... particular tastes.
Shuichi, unaware that Megure was currently reminiscing about that embarrassing night, kept his focus on the scarred President. "Even if you enjoy these hobbies, it doesn't clear you of suspicion. In fact, it makes Mr. Ogasawara's theory more likely. It's entirely possible that during one of these 'games,' you went too far and accidentally killed her. Such tragedies aren't exactly unheard of in your circles."
Hearing Shuichi speak with such apparent expertise on the matter, Megure felt his suspicions confirmed. He gave Shuichi a look that was now tinged with a strange, newfound "understanding."
"Mari really wasn't killed by me," Okawa wailed, his face a mask of misery. "She's been missing for a week! I've been looking for her everywhere these past few days!"
"According to our records, we did receive a missing person's report for Mari Ogasawara recently," a nearby officer from the Beika Precinct chimed in, searching his memory. "I remember the petitioner—it was indeed this President Okawa."
"Do you hear that? I didn't kill her!" Okawa followed up desperately. "If I had, why would I be the one to call the police?"
"A thief crying 'stop thief' isn't exactly a new trick," Officer Matsumoto sneered. "Inspector, we should take him back for a formal interrogation."
Samezaki was about to nod when Shuichi suddenly spoke up. "Mr. Ogasawara, your sister has been missing for a week. Did you not look for her? Why was it President Okawa who filed the report?"
"A week ago, Onee-san told me she was going on a business trip out of town with this guy," Yuto explained, his voice thick with pain. "She said she'd be gone for several days. If you hadn't notified me today, I wouldn't have even known something happened to her."
"I did have an appointment to go to Kyoto with Mari a week ago," Okawa interjected, seeing the suspicious glares return to him. "But I waited at the station for hours and she never showed up! I thought she was just playing a trick on me. It wasn't until she failed to show up at the office that I realized something was wrong and went to the police."
"Liar! Onee-san definitely left the house that day!" Yuto clenched his fists. "She told me you were planning to get a divorce so you could marry her! You probably got cold feet and killed her to keep her quiet!"
"I lied to her about the divorce, yes! I admit that!" Okawa shouted back. "But I wouldn't kill someone over something like that!"
"Mr. Ogasawara," Shuichi said, his voice neutral. "Are you absolutely certain that when your sister left a week ago, she told you she was going on a long trip?"
"Yes," Yuto nodded firmly. "Positive."
"I see..." Shuichi didn't argue, but his gaze drifted down to the feet of the female corpse.
The toenails on her right foot were all painted a vivid, bright polish. However, on her left foot, only half of the nails were finished. This didn't look like the work of a woman who had meticulously prepared for a romantic getaway.
"Alright. Regardless of the circumstances, Mr. Okawa, you are a prime suspect. Come with us to the station," Samezaki commanded. Ignoring Okawa's protests, he signaled for the officers to lead him to the patrol car.
Just then, Shuichi spoke up one last time. "Mr. Ogasawara, your sister's body is about to be moved to the forensics lab at headquarters. If you want to say goodbye, you should do it now."
"...Thank you," Yuto whispered. His eyes were bloodshot, shimmering with unshed tears as he nodded slowly.
He collapsed to his knees before his sister's remains. He reached out, clutching her cold hand tightly in his own as the dam finally broke. He began to wail, a heart-wrenching, soul-tearing sound that seemed to vent all the agony trapped in his chest.
As the officers began to clear the scene, one of them accidentally stepped near the corpse's hand while passing by.
Yuto reacted instantly like a cornered beast. He lunged forward, shoving the officer away with a roar of fury. He then threw himself over his sister's body, hugging the remains tightly and refusing to let go, as if terrified that she would be hurt again if he moved an inch.
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