Sakurai Chizuru was in a bad mood today.
Not only did she receive an anonymous letter a few days ago, but this afternoon she was embarrassed by a pretty boy, and upon returning to her dorm room at night, she realized she'd forgotten her dorm keys. It's like being hit by a deluge when the roof is already leaking—a series of unfortunate events...
Perhaps I should buy a keychain? Ever since becoming an instructor, I've had more and more keys to manage, and one can easily be misplaced.
She took out the office key from her pocket, inserted it into the lock, turned it with a click, and the door opened.
"Huh? The door wasn't locked?"
Sakurai Chizuru frowned.
She pushed the door open and reached to press the switch on the wall.
The incandescent light flickered before illuminating with a pale glow. Looking around, beige partitions divided the workspace, and at the far end were several independent offices with white name tags on frosted glass walls.
Sakurai Chizuru walked through the narrow corridor between workstations, pausing briefly to glance at the file bags on one of the desks. Inside were the evaluation test papers for the month—there were no signs of them being opened.
Perhaps the last colleague to leave simply forgot to lock the door.
She walked into her private office, scanned the room, and despite the dim lighting, immediately saw her dorm keys on the desk.
"Really, how could I forget something so obvious…" Sakurai Chizuru rubbed her temples, walked over, bent down, and picked up the keys. "Is it because of too much stress?"
Meanwhile, behind her desk, three people were crammed beneath it in a bizarre position.
Simply crouching wouldn't be enough; the desk wasn't wide enough for three people. To maximize space, Fushimi Roku and Kawai intertwined their arms and legs, while the smallest of them, Minamoto Tamako, squeezed into the middle, barely fitting.
As footsteps drew closer and stopped by their side, Fushimi Roku could feel his heartbeat pounding like a drum. He glanced down; Minamoto Tamako was trembling in his arms, making him somewhat anxious too.
Ring ring ring—
A sudden, urgent phone ring sliced through the silence, and Fushimi Roku heard the sliding sound of a flip phone, followed by the common greeting "Moses Moses"… He was slightly astonished, not expecting Instructor Sakurai to own a cellphone. So being a police academy instructor pays well?
Cellphones weren't widespread yet; ordinary families either used coin-operated phone booths or landlines. Few people bought flip phones; they were mid-to-high-end electronic luxury items.
Fushimi Roku took a deep breath, calming his nerves.
Sakurai had already picked up the keys and was likely to leave soon.
They just needed to wait silently...
"Oh no!" whispered Kawai: "That one is coming."
Fushimi Roku cursed internally; what do you mean, "that one is coming"? Why speak at such a critical moment?
He mouthed a "shut up."
But under the table, it was too dark; Kawai only saw his lips move and mistakenly thought he was asking 'which one?' So he explained, "The one I can't hold back!"
Fushimi Roku thought to himself, what's the use of saving face in a situation like this? Japanese people are meticulous to the point of being rigid, why not just say you need to go?
Upon hearing this, Minamoto Tamako lost her composure. Sitting between Kawai's legs, she would be the first to bear the brunt if anything happened.
"Number one or two?" Minamoto Tamako asked in a whisper.
"Number one," Kawai replied.
"What's number two?" Fushimi Roku realized he was being led astray by their banter and lowered his voice to warn, "Stop talking! Hold it together no matter what!"
"Number two is a wet fart." Kawai paused and added, "Okay, I get it, I'll try my best to hold it back."
Fushimi Roku suspected this guy was doing it on purpose.
Sakurai Chizuru didn't notice the commotion below the desk; hearing a familiar voice over the phone finally eased her irritation.
"What's the matter? Calling me at this hour," she leaned against the desk, adopting an alluring, mature tone: "Can't hold back?"
A hurried and suppressed male voice came through the phone:
"I, I can't take it anymore. At work, my mind is full of wild thoughts… I beg of you, just for a little…"
"Oh my, is that how you beg?"
Sakurai Chizuru was in high spirits; with the phone nestled between her cheek and shoulder, she kicked off her boots, perched on the office chair, raised her long legs onto the desk, and lazily eyed her toes.
"I, I'm still at the office…"
The voice on the other end sounded troubled.
Sakurai Chizuru switched on the table lamp, took out nail polish, and casually began painting her toenails: "Then why are you calling me? You think I can't see through your little schemes? Go to the bathroom yourself!"
"But…"
"Do I need to repeat myself?"
"Okay…"
Fushimi Roku looked up, feeling the angle wasn't right.
Perhaps thanks to her focus under the lamp, Sakurai Chizuru hadn't noticed the three pairs of eyes beneath the desk.
"Why doesn't she just go to the bathroom?" Kawai muttered softly, "I'm about to lose it!"
Fushimi Roku felt increasingly regretful; he finally saw that of the four people present, he was the only normal one—had he known this would happen, he would never have agreed to get involved.
This 'torture' lasted over twenty minutes, the office filled with an ambiguous scent.
Sakurai Chizuru hung up the phone, a satisfied flush on her face. She stretched lazily, slipped on her shoes, walked a couple of steps, and used her forefinger to hook the shoe's heel to put it on properly.
The footsteps gradually faded, the office door clicked shut with a lock, and the three finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Fushimi Roku was the first to crawl out from under the desk. He stood up, stretching his strained joints, a series of crisp cracking sounds accompanied a sense of ease throughout his body.
"I can't hold it any longer—" Kawai bolted out of the office, fearing she leaked a few drops.
Minamoto Tamako crouched on the floor with her head in her hands, yet to recover from the terror.
Fushimi Roku glanced at her, twisting his waist, saying, "Alright, we've figured things out, now we can go home and sleep well."
"Huh?" Minamoto Tamako was taken aback.
"Weren't we supposed to 'figure out the contents of the anonymous letter'?" Fushimi Roku didn't want to be involved anymore; he yawned and said, "You saw what was written on it, let's just drop it."
"What about the revenge threat the letter mentioned? And the murder case? Instructor Sakurai is suspected of murder! Nothing is clear, how can you just give up?" Minamoto Tamako protested and tugged at his pants.
"It's none of my business!" Fushimi Roku shook his leg, trying to make her let go.
"Where's your sense of justice as a police officer? You're getting paid by the state's taxes!" Minamoto Tamako tightened her grip on his calf.
"In a past life, I was stabbed to death for meddling too much. In this life, I swear to be a selfish little guy, focusing on living my own life well is the way to go! Besides, I haven't even started the job yet; the school took a large fee for tuition and board. If I get expelled, wouldn't all the money, time, and effort I invested go down the drain?"
Fushimi Roku made up his mind to pull Minamoto Tamako's hand away but saw her suddenly raise her head and say, "Is it about money?"
"Uh? Do you dare speak like that with just a few coins in your pocket…"
"50,000 yen!"
Minamoto Tamako spread her fingers and pitifully said, "I'll spend 50,000 yen to hire you as my partner!"