Hours slipped away like sand through fingers on that interminable day, and Yasushi's group toiled with unwavering diligence. Their efforts culminated in the collection of fifty-seven bags — an impressive feat by any measure. The task demanded multiple trips back and forth to the school, a journey that stretched their stamina and patience until, at last, they completed their arduous mission.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced on the ground, Xinyi turned to face Yasushi and Jingliu. Her eyes, a blend of determination and concern, fixed upon them as she spoke with a firmness that brooked no argument, "I've called Yinhaie for you both. I refuse to let you walk home until that killer is caught; do you understand?"
Yasushi let out a chuckle, his voice light with an attempt to ease the tension, "Alright, alright, we get it. We won't walk home after today."
Jingliu, despite her silent frown, nodded in agreement, her reluctance clear but her resolve to comply stronger. Xinyi enveloped them in a warm embrace, a gesture of reassurance and solidarity, before she turned her attention to Laura and Furuya. She relayed the same protective insistence to them, her words a shield against the encroaching night.
With that, Xinyi departed with Laura and Furuya, leaving Yasushi and Jingliu under the fading light.
"We just need to keep this up until Yinhaie confirms my suspicions. If I'm wrong, then we're back to square one," Yasushi murmured, his voice low and laced with a tension that seemed to ripple through the air. As he spoke, he let his gaze wander slowly, almost imperceptibly, around the perimeter, noting how the other students began trickling in, each burdened with their bags.
He led Jingliu to a secluded corner of the field, a vantage point from which they could observe without drawing attention. The shadows stretched long and thin as the minutes passed, cloaking them in a veil of anonymity. Yasushi's eyes were sharp, scanning every movement, every gesture. They settled into a vigil, their senses heightened, alert for the arrival of a particular classmate who occupied their thoughts.
Time seemed to stretch, each minute an eternity, until finally, after what felt like an interminable half-hour, the group they had been waiting for appeared. Yasushi's eyes narrowed, honing in on Mizahara Tokoyoni, who moved with a deceptive nonchalance amidst her peers. There was something in the way she walked, something in the subtle tension of her movements, that set off alarm bells in Yasushi's mind.
As Mizahara's group drifted away from the dumping area, Yasushi's gaze lingered on her retreating figure. Once they had left the field, he turned to Jingliu, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet loaded with the weight of his observations. "Did you notice anything different?"
"It was… subtle, but she had a sort of limp," Jingliu began, her voice tinged with a mix of hesitation and certainty. "And she was clutching her stomach, but that's not undeniable evidence that she's the killer. We couldn't see her face clearly from here, which would have been another point of evidence, especially since I did hit her with my wooden sword there," she explained, her words meticulous, each detail carefully considered.
Yasushi nodded, his mind turning over the possibilities, weighing each piece of information with the gravity it deserved. "That's true," he replied thoughtfully. "She could have gotten injured during the event. There's no way to definitively tell if what we saw was a result of what happened the other night or if she got hurt on her own. But regardless, I'll still keep an eye out for her," he said, his resolve firm. Jingliu, recognizing the sense in his words, nodded in agreement, a silent pact formed between them.
Their observations concluded, they lingered a moment longer, the weight of their shared responsibility hanging heavy in the air. The field, now nearly deserted, felt like a stage recently abandoned by its actors, leaving behind an aura of tension and unsaid words. Suddenly, the quiet was interrupted by the soft buzz of Yasushi's phone. It was a text from Yinhaie, informing them that she was waiting by the gate with the car.
With a shared glance of understanding, Yasushi and Jingliu gathered themselves and began making their way to the gate. The path seemed longer in the twilight, their thoughts heavy with the implications of their surveillance. Each step felt measured, deliberate, as if the very ground beneath them held the weight of their burgeoning suspicions.
Upon reaching the gate, they saw Yinhaie leaning against the car, her posture relaxed yet alert, embodying the tension of the evening. They exchanged brief nods, words unnecessary in the presence of their shared mission. The drive home was silent, each lost in their own thoughts.
+-+
Yasushi indulged in a long, well-deserved bath, the kind that allowed one's mind to wander through the labyrinth of thoughts that had accumulated over the course of a turbulent day. His eyes were closed, the warm water enveloping him like a cocoon, soothing the tension from his muscles and inviting a contemplative silence.
In this quiet sanctuary, his thoughts drifted towards the perplexing enigma of their classmate Mizahara. If she truly was the killer, what could possibly have driven her to such a desperate act?
He pondered the possibility of a troubled home life, though he found it difficult to reconcile such a scenario with the act of killing random strangers. It seemed too extreme, too disconnected from the causality of familial discord.
Yet, a fleeting recollection surfaced, reminding him of his own past life. Before being reincarnated here, he had roamed the city streets of his former existence, engaging in fights with random people. Though he never crossed the line into taking a life, his actions had left many wishing for the release of death. The memory, stark and raw, lingered in the back of his mind.
"Bullying?" he muttered softly, the word hanging in the humid air. It didn't seem implausible. Bullying could drive people to unimaginable extremes, pushing them to act out in ways that defied reason. The thought resonated with him, making a strange kind of sense. Bullying, in its insidious cruelty, often led to unpredictable outcomes, with some victims being driven to the brink.
However, Yasushi couldn't help but draw a distinction between the bullying he had observed in Japan and that which he had experienced in the United Kingdom, a place he had once called home.
The nature of bullying here seemed more pervasive, woven into the fabric of societal interactions in ways that were both subtle and overt. In his previous life, the bullying had been more direct, more confrontational. Here, it was insidious, often masked behind a veneer of politeness and conformity, making it all the more difficult to combat.
As Yasushi continued to mull over the perplexities and uncertainties swirling in his mind, the door to his bathroom creaked open, disrupting the cocoon of solitude he had enveloped himself in. "Oh, you're joining me today too, Jing — huh?" he began to remark, expecting the familiar presence of Jingliu. However, his words trailed off abruptly as his gaze fell upon Yinhaie, standing there with a serene smile, clad in a bikini that seemed both incongruous and deliberate in the intimate setting.
"Yinhaie?" he echoed, his voice tinged with surprise and a hint of confusion.
"I wish to speak to you, Yasushi. Is that okay?" she asked, her tone gentle but firm, as she closed the door behind her with a decisive click and gracefully stepped into the bath, the water rippling around her.
"…Okay," he replied, his mind still grappling with this unexpected turn of events. Yasushi hadn't anticipated anything remotely like this happening today, and he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. His eyes, almost involuntarily, roamed over her form, taking in the graceful curves and the confident way she carried herself, silently acknowledging the beauty she exuded.
Clearing his throat to regain a semblance of composure, Yasushi asked, "So, what did you want to talk about?"
Yinhaie responded with a smile that was both knowing and teasing. "Do you enjoy the view?"
"Yes," Yasushi deadpanned, his voice flat yet honest, the simplicity of his answer drawing a soft giggle from Yinhaie.
Her laughter filled the space, light and melodic, breaking the tension that had settled like a thin mist. Yasushi watched her, intrigued by this unexpected side of her, wondering what had prompted this unusual encounter. The warmth of the water mingled with the warmth of the moment, creating an atmosphere that was both surreal and profoundly intimate.
"You're not shy about admitting that?" she asked, still amused by his forthright response.
"No," Yasushi replied, his voice steady and sincere. "I am honest with most things I say. I'd rather be straightforward than have people constantly beating around the bush. Anyway, what did you want to talk about?" he reiterated, his curiosity piqued and his focus unwavering.
Yinhaie nodded, her amusement giving way to a more serious demeanor. "It's about the list I mentioned," she began, her tone now imbued with gravity. "We've narrowed it down significantly, and based on what you mentioned earlier, we've started to look into it more closely. But we've already hit some major obstacles. It seems like any information about Mizahara Tokoyoni has been completely wiped from the internet."
Yasushi's brow furrowed deeply at this revelation, a silent sigh escaping him as the weight of her words settled in. "Not a single thing?" he asked, the lines on his forehead deepening with concern.
Shaking her head, Yinhaie continued, "None. Everything about her is gone. However, it's not a complete loss. We have our ways of obtaining the information, but it means this will take longer — probably extending into next week. We'll need to do this the old-fashioned way: on foot, visiting different places to extract the information we need."
Yasushi's frown remained as he absorbed the implications of her words. This new development added another layer of complexity to an already convoluted situation. The notion of having to track down information manually felt like a throwback to a bygone era, a stark contrast to the digital age they were so accustomed to.
Yinhaie, observing his thoughtful silence, continued, "We'll need to be methodical and thorough. There are places we can start — schools, libraries, maybe even talking to people who might know her. It's going to be time-consuming, but it's the only way we'll get the answers we need."
Yasushi nodded, his resolve hardening. "Alright. We'll do whatever it takes. If this is the path we have to take, then so be it. I'm ready to go through it, no matter how long it takes."
"Very well, thank you for indulging me," Yinhaie said with a graceful nod, her words carrying a mixture of gratitude and formality as she rose from the bathtub. The water cascaded down her body, glistening under the soft light. In a move that caught Yasushi entirely off guard, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, a gesture both tender and unexpectedly intimate.
Yasushi remained motionless, his eyes widening in surprise as Yinhaie exited the bathroom, leaving behind a faint trace of her presence. The door closed with a soft click, and Yasushi found himself alone once more, the warm water now feeling like a tepid echo of the moment that had just passed.
His old instincts, honed in the rough streets of his previous life, screamed at him to take action, to react in some way. Yet, he found himself rooted to the spot, his body betraying none of the turmoil that roiled within. He held those instincts back, suppressing the urge to follow her, to do something to her.
In that quiet bathroom, enveloped by the lingering warmth of the bath, Yasushi realized that, in a way, he had already made a choice. It wasn't a conscious decision, nor one he fully understood, but it was a choice nonetheless.