The Tenth Year of Silence —The Reason I Killed That Child— - The Witness of Rain —The Boy's Notebook and the Girl's Bracelet—

The sound of rain tapped against the window glass. Yagumo Chitose stood by the window of his room on the fifth floor of an apartment building in Aobagaoka, gazing outside. The rain that had been falling since morning draped the residential hillside in a gray veil. From the neatly aligned rooftops, countless streams of water cascaded down, darkening the asphalt below. (Three days, then.) Chitose glanced at the documents spread across his desk. Newspaper clippings and copies of witness testimony that Minazuki Naoto had entrusted to him. And a stack of copied pages from the search notebook Naoto had kept for ten years. They sat quietly on the desk, asserting their presence. Chitose unconsciously rubbed his left wrist with his right hand. The old scar beneath his sleeve ached faintly on rainy days. A wound sliced open by a box cutter during the bullying he'd endured in middle school. Even back then, Chitose had tried to uncover the reason. Why that child became the target. Why no one stopped it. In the end, he never understood why. But this time. Chitose picked up the copy of the witness testimony sitting on top of the pile. The contradiction he'd found in the first chapter remained there, unchanged. Around 3:40 in the afternoon. Mio's witness accounts existed simultaneously in three separate locations. In front of the café, at the park, along the riverside path. Physically, it wasn't a distance one girl could cover in a few minutes. Someone was lying. Or someone had manipulated the testimony. It had to be one or the other. Chitose pulled an old notebook from the inner pocket of his blazer and opened it to the last page. There, in meticulous handwriting, was written: "Around 3:40 PM, Mio's witness accounts exist simultaneously at three locations. In front of the café, the park, along the river. Contradictory distances. Someone is lying, or the testimony has been manipulated." Chitose traced the words with his finger. (This contradiction is the only solid lead I have right now.) When he went downstairs to the living room, his mother had already left for work. On the table sat breakfast wrapped in plastic and a note that read, "Dinner's in the fridge." His mother worked from early morning until late at night. No matter what Chitose did, she never asked deeply about it. Not asking — that was the rule of this house. Chitose ate a single slice of toast and slipped into his uniform. In front of the mirror, he confirmed that the scar on his left wrist was hidden by his sleeve. Then he gathered the documents on his desk into a file and put it in his backpack. When he stepped outside, the rain had let up a little. He walked to the Aobagaoka bus stop. Even with an umbrella, the damp air clung to his skin. A few students from the same school were at the bus stop, but none of them spoke to Chitose. Chitose didn't try to speak to them either. Rocked by the bus, he got off at Kirigasaki Station. From the rotary in front of the station, he walked toward Hamasaki Ginza Street. The moment he turned off the main road into a side street, the scenery abruptly changed to something old and worn. Building walls were faded, signs rusted, and shuttered storefronts stood out everywhere. This was the Hamasaki district — the old quarter spreading along the seaside of Kirigasaki City. A shopping street that once boasted a hundred and twenty shops now had only thirty-seven remaining. Chitose folded his umbrella. The rain had almost stopped. Thin sunlight was beginning to leak through gaps in the clouds. He stood at the entrance of Hamasaki Ginza Street. The eight-hundred-meter arcade glistened black with rain. Walking beneath the arcade, a cool air drifted through. Vegetable shops, fishmongers, dried goods stores, secondhand clothing shops. All small, individually owned businesses, their proprietors advanced in years. The people walking the street were almost all elderly. Chitose passed by the fresh fish shop "Minazuki." The shutter was half-open. From inside, he heard the sound of ice being crushed. Naoto must already have the shop open. Chitose paused for a moment in front of the store. (Should I report today's findings to Naoto first? No, I still don't know anything yet. Better to gather a little more first.) He walked past the shop without stopping. His destination was a café called "Shiomachi" in the middle of the shopping street. According to the map and copies of witness testimony he'd received from Naoto, one of the three witnesses who claimed to have seen Mio on the day of the incident was the owner of this shop. He pushed through the noren curtain of Café Shiomachi. Ding-ding, went the door bell. The interior was dim, thick with the aroma of coffee. Six wooden counter seats, three tables. Old record jackets decorated the walls, and jazz played softly from a speaker. There were no other customers. Behind the counter, an old woman in a white apron looked up. Her white hair was tied back in a single bundle, and she wore glasses. Her cheeks were hollow, her hands etched with wrinkles befitting her age, but her posture was straight and firm. "Welcome." Her voice was younger than he'd expected. Chitose sat at the end of the counter. "Coffee, please." "Coming right up." Mimura Masayo deftly lit the siphon. Inside the glass sphere, the water slowly rose. Chitose watched in silence. (This is the person — Witness A. Mimura Masayo, sixty-two years old. On the day of the incident, she testified that she saw Mio walking in front of her shop.) The coffee arrived. Steam rose, and the bitter aroma passed through his nose. Chitose took a sip. Hot, with a deep flavor. "Um, there's something I'd like to ask you." Chitose broached the subject quietly. "It's about the Minazuki Mio case, ten years ago." Mimura Masayo's hand stopped for an instant. The hand that had been wiping a cup on the counter froze in midair. "...Mio-chan." Masayo slowly turned toward Chitose. Behind her glasses, her eyes appraised him. "Who are you?" "My name is Yagumo Chitose. I'm a second-year high school student. Minazuki Naoto asked me to reinvestigate the case." Chitose answered honestly. Masayo stared at his face for a while. Then she let out a small breath. "Naoto-san... that man, he still, about that child..." Masayo resumed wiping the cup. Her movements were just a little slower than before. "You're a high schooler, right? Why stick your neck into such a troublesome business?" "Because I want to know the reason." Chitose spoke while gazing at his coffee cup. "Why Mio-chan had to die. Why the case has been treated as closed. I want to know the reason." Masayo didn't answer. Silence flowed through the shop. The jazz track ended and the next one began. "...Mio-chan was just her usual self, you know." Masayo began to speak, little by little. "That day too, she stopped by the shop on her way home from school. She drank a cocoa. Just like always, smiling, she said, 'See you tomorrow, Auntie,' and left. That was the last time." Masayo's voice seemed to be looking at something far away. "Mio-chan was a truly good girl. Cheerful, polite. Naoto-san treasured her so much. That family was normal. An ordinary parent and child, the kind you'd find anywhere." Chitose took out his notebook and gripped his pen. "You testified that you saw Mio-chan in front of this shop around 3:40 PM on the day of the incident, correct?" Masayo's hand stopped again. This time, she was clearly shaken. Her grip on the cup tightened. "...It's been ten years, so my memory is fuzzy." Masayo turned her face away. She was looking out the window. The rain had completely stopped, and thin sunlight filtered beneath the arcade. "I don't remember. What time Mio-chan was in front of the shop that day — such a small detail." Chitose watched Masayo's profile intently. (This person is hiding something.) In the copy of the witness testimony, it was clearly written that Mimura Masayo had testified: "Around 3:40 PM, I saw a girl walking alone in front of the shop. It was definitely Mio-chan." And yet now she claimed her memory was fuzzy. Chitose wrote in his notebook. "Mimura Masayo — testified she saw Mio at 3:40. Time contradicts the other two. Claims memory is fuzzy." "Was that family normal?" Chitose asked without stopping his pen. "They were normal. An ordinary parent and child, the kind you'd find anywhere." Masayo repeated the same words. "Then, what do you think of Minazuki Naoto?" In that instant, Masayo's mouth snapped shut. The air changed. Masayo stood beyond the counter, staring down. Chitose couldn't see her face. But he could tell her shoulders had stiffened slightly. "...That man." Masayo spoke as if squeezing out the words. "That man is... a bit, you know." That was all. Masayo said nothing more, and placed a freshly brewed coffee in front of Chitose. The sound of the cup touching the counter echoed strangely loud. "I'm sorry, I'm busy." With that, Masayo retreated to the back of the counter. She turned her back and began washing dishes. The conversation was over. Chitose added to his notebook. "Avoids speaking about Naoto. 'That man is... a bit, you know.'" Chitose drained his coffee and placed the payment on the counter. "Thank you for the coffee." Masayo didn't turn around. When he left Café Shiomachi, the area beneath the arcade was brighter than before. The sun was peeking through gaps in the clouds. The after-rain air carried the scent of the sea. Chitose closed his notebook and put it in his backpack. (Mimura Masayo. She's one of the three who testified to seeing Mio. And yet now she says her memory is fuzzy. Does she not know that her time completely overlaps with the other two, or does she know and is hiding it?) Chitose walked deeper into the shopping street. His destination was the vegetable shop "Marusen." The shop of Chida Genzo, rumored to be a local elder and tight-lipped. The vegetable shop "Marusen" was further down the shopping street. Daikon radishes, Chinese cabbage, green onions, apples, mandarin oranges — all crowded the storefront. Everything was fresh, smelling of soil. At the back of the shop, a bent-backed old man was organizing cardboard boxes. His white hair was cropped short, and he had a stubbly beard. He wore work gloves, and his movements were slow but powerful. "Hello." When Chitose called out, the old man looked up. "Oh, welcome. What'll it be?" His voice was low, as if rising from the pit of his stomach. Chitose took the map from his backpack. The map from the time of the incident that Naoto had entrusted to him. Hand-drawn, with the places canvassed and witness information written in. "You're Chida Genzo-san, correct? I've come to talk to you about Minazuki Naoto." When Chitose said this, Genzo's eyes narrowed sharply. "...Naoto, huh." Genzo removed his gloves and stared at Chitose's face. "You're looking into that case?" A low voice. Appraising, probing eyes. Chitose looked straight back into Genzo's eyes. "Yes." Chitose answered briefly. Genzo stared at Chitose for a while. Then he looked away and picked up a mandarin orange from the storefront. "I see." Genzo began slowly peeling the mandarin with his gnarled fingers. "That day, I did see Mio-chan." Chitose's heart thumped hard. "But, you see, what I saw wasn't on Hamasaki Ginza Street." Genzo popped the peeled mandarin into his mouth in one bite. A little juice spilled from the corner of his lips. "It was in front of the warehouse at the fishing port." Chitose forgot to breathe for a moment. (In front of the warehouse at the fishing port—) That was a location not in the witness testimony. According to the copy of the testimony, Chida Genzo was supposed to have said he "saw Mio on Ginza Street." "The testimony says you saw her on Ginza Street." Chitose said, opening his notebook. Genzo tossed the mandarin peel into the trash an

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Episode 2

Name: The Tenth Year of Silence —The Reason I Killed That Child—
Author: Novelia

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