The izakaya where Ogasawara Yuto worked was not far from the apartment he rented.
Following the address provided by the apartment manager, Hayashi Shuichi and the others soon arrived at the front of the tavern.
It was not yet ten in the morning, and the izakaya's doors were tightly shut. Hayashi Shuichi's gaze swept across the display window; the interior was pitch black, offering only the faint, skeletal silhouettes of a few tables and chairs.
Inspector Matsumoto frowned, turning to the officers behind him. "Go to the nearby koban (police box) and have them bring the owner of this place here immediately."
A short while later, a young patrolman arrived in a hurry, leading a middle-aged man.
The owner, a man named Kitagawa, appeared to be in his fifties. He was slightly portly with disheveled hair, evidently having been roused from a deep sleep. Dark circles hung heavily beneath his eyes, and his face was masked with blatant reluctance.
"Why do you need to inspect my shop?" Kitagawa rubbed his bleary eyes. "Nothing happened at my izakaya. We're still closed for rest at this hour."
Inspector Matsumoto's expression darkened instantly. He took a step forward, his towering frame casting a long, intimidating shadow over Kitagawa. "Cut the chatter. Open the door. Now."
Startled, Kitagawa swallowed hard. He fumbled for his keys and unlocked the heavy entrance to the tavern.
Hayashi Shuichi was the first to step inside. The interior was dim, with only a small patch of floor near the entrance illuminated by the morning sun filtering through the doorway.
"Do you have a freezer in the shop? Where is it?" Hayashi Shuichi's voice echoed through the empty room.
Kitagawa pointed toward the prep counter. "In the back." He paused, then seemed to change his mind. "Forget it, I'll lead you there. I don't want you breaking my things."
Under his guidance, the group wove through the clusters of tables and reached the area behind the service counter.
It was even darker here, and the air was thick with the heavy, cloying scent of raw meat and seafood. A large, commercial-grade freezer stood silently in the corner, its surface dusted with a thin layer of white frost.
Hayashi Shuichi walked up to the unit and pulled open the heavy door.
A dim, yellow light flickered on inside, revealing neatly stacked cuts of meat—beef, pork, and chicken—all portioned into transparent plastic bags and meticulously labeled.
"Packed this full?" Hayashi Shuichi remarked casually, though his eyes were searching the interior with surgical precision.
Kitagawa rubbed his hands together, sounding rather proud. "Business has been good lately. On Ogasawara's suggestion yesterday, I stocked up on quite a bit of extra meat."
Hayashi Shuichi didn't respond. Instead, he began pulling the bags of meat out one by one. Before long, a "mountain of meat" had been piled up on the adjacent prep table.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
Kitagawa could no longer contain himself. The flesh on his face trembled with agitation. "If that meat thaws and isn't used immediately, it'll spoil!"
He stepped forward, intent on stopping Hayashi Shuichi, but Inspector Matsumoto was faster, firmly grabbing his arm. "It's only for a few minutes. It's not going to rot."
Ignoring Kitagawa's indignant glare, Hayashi Shuichi continued his work.
When more than half of the meat had been cleared, he suddenly stopped. His body stiffened visibly for a fleeting second.
Then, in a voice that was uncharacteristically solemn, Hayashi Shuichi said, "Eri, take Reiko outside."
Standing nearby, Eri Kisaki heard the gravity in his tone and understood instantly. Though she was burning with curiosity, her absolute trust in her childhood friend won out. She immediately took Reiko's small hand. "Let's go wait outside."
"Why?" Reiko pouted in protest. "I want to see too!"
"Do as you're told!" Hayashi Shuichi's voice snapped with a rare, sharp authority.
Reiko puffed out her cheeks, reluctantly allowing Eri to lead her out of the shop.
"Hayashi-kun, did you find something?" Matsumoto asked, his voice tight with anticipation.
"It's just a freezer, what could he possibly find?" Kitagawa grumbled resentfully. "At most, some of the meat has gone bad."
However, in the next heartbeat, as Hayashi Shuichi reached into the furthest depths of the freezer and pulled out a glass jar with both hands, Kitagawa's words died in his throat.
His eyes bulged, and his mouth hung wide open, but no sound came out.
"Th—This... what is this?!"
After a long silence, Kitagawa finally let out a strangled shriek. His face turned a deathly, ashen grey. His legs turned to water, and he collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud, his hands shaking violently as they pressed against the wood.
The young officers following Matsumoto also turned pale. One of them suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth and bolted out of the izakaya; another gripped his partner's arm so hard his nails sank into the skin. One officer remained standing, his face grim and beads of cold sweat rolling down his forehead, forcing himself not to look away.
"Another head?"
Inspector Matsumoto swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He recalled the photographs he had seen at Ogasawara's apartment. "Is that... Ogasawara Mari?"
In the glass jar Hayashi Shuichi held, filled with clear formalin, a complete female head floated silently.
Her long hair drifted slowly like dark seaweed in the solution. Her expression was serene—peaceful, even—with the faint ghost of a smile lingering on her lips. It stood in horrific contrast to the head found at the convenience store, which had been hideously disfigured by acid.
Hayashi Shuichi carefully placed the glass jar on the prep table. He leaned in to observe the features and the jagged line where the neck had been severed.
"It is indeed Ogasawara Mari. Moreover, the neck on this head is significantly longer than the one we found at the convenience store. It would fit perfectly onto the torso found by the riverbank."
"So Ogasawara Yuto really did kill his sister?" Matsumoto's voice was strained. "But why? From what we knew, their relationship was supposed to be excellent."
Hayashi Shuichi sighed, his gaze falling upon the faint, lingering bruises of handprints visible on the neck through the glass.
"It was likely a crime of passion—of distorted affection. The Ogasawara siblings lost their parents early; for years, they only had each other to rely on. In Ogasawara Yuto's heart, his feelings for his sister gradually morphed into something far beyond brotherly love."
"But for Ogasawara Mari, such feelings were something she could never accept."
"Before she found a boyfriend, Yuto was likely able to suppress his emotions. But when she became President Okawa's mistress—and especially after she began engaging in those... 'erotic games' with him—Yuto began to lose control."
"A week ago, when he learned his sister was going to Kyoto with President Okawa for a romantic getaway, Yuto was consumed by a toxic mix of jealousy and hatred..."
Hayashi Shuichi pointed to the finger marks on the neck.
"...And so, he strangled his sister. Looking at the expression on Mari's face, it seems that even in her final moments, she didn't hate her brother."
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