Reminiscence 3: July, One Year Ago
It was a holiday, and I, a first year high school student, was working hard at a part-time job. To be precise, it was an illegal part time job. To be even more precise, it was a part-time job that wasn't approved by the state. To be as precise as possible, I was getting paid 2,000 yen to accompany Yozuki on a shopping trip. I was bounced from store to store for nearly five hours. That was an hourly wage of 400 yen. This was a clear violation of the Labor Standards Act.
When we finally finished and left the final store, Yozuki said “Thanks for today.” Then she puffed out her chest and said “As a thank you, your favorite big sister will treat you to dinner.”
The sun was already setting, coloring the main street running between the buildings a deep red. Yozuki's hair, dyed brown, shone like golden thread. “I want sushi,” I said. “For dinner.”
Yozuki sported a dubious look. Then she started admonishing me.
“We can't get sushi, it's too expensive.”
“I'm fine with conveyor belt.”
“It's still impossible. Kasumi, whenever we go out for sushi, you eat 20 plates by yourself, right? You're still a kid, so I guess you don't know this, but 20 plates of sushi costs several thousand yen.”
I couldn't do anything but groan. I guess sushi lay beyond my grasp after all. There was no choice but to give up and go with my second choice.
“Alright then, let's get hamburgers.”
“Great, that's much more economical. Mind if I get mine with cheese?”
I nodded, and Yozuki and I started walking in the direction of a family restaurant. As I was making my way through the crowd, carrying paper bags stuffed with clothes and plushies, a girl with long black hair suddenly passed me. Without thinking, I dropped the paper bags. “Kasumi?” Yozuki exclaimed in surprise. But I didn't hear her. Before I knew it, I was running. I was chasing her back. The crowd was blocking me; I fought through in frustration. I'm sure it wasn't a mistake. That back, I'm sure of it. It belongs to...
The figure disappeared down an alleyway. I followed her. The setting sun shone down on the alley. The world dyed crimson looked beautiful as a dream.
I stared at the deep red scenery. Shitsuri Mitsumura stood there. Compared to the girl I'd known in my second year of middle school, she looked a bit more mature.
“It's been a while, Kuzushiro,” she said.
“Yeah, it really has,” I replied. I was still catching my breath from fighting my way through the crowd. “It really has been a while.”
Mitsumura gave a slight smile.
“I'm sorry, but I had various circumstances to deal with. But I should have at least contacted you, Kuzushiro. Would you have met with me if I had?”
Of course... I tried to say it, but for some reason, my throat was unbearably tight. It was true that I wanted to meet her. We had so much to talk about. But there was only one thing on my mind, and the guilt I felt over it made me hesitate to speak.
What I really wanted to say was...
Before I knew it, the words had slipped out. They had come with no conscious effort on my part, as though the words had their own wills and personalities.
“Did you really kill someone?”
Mitsumura's eyes widened. Seeing the look of shock on her face, I instantly regretted it. Words of betrayal. Words that said I didn't trust her, even though I should have.
But they were, without doubt, my true feelings. I wanted to know. I wanted to ask her. What was the truth? There was no way our relationship could ever go back to normal while she harbored such a massive “secret”.
Mitsumura answered my question with a pause, as if in thought. Eventually, a smile formed on her lips. It was a radiant smile, one she rarely showed.
“Yes, that's right.”
She spoke in the deep crimson light.
“I killed my father.”
Before I knew it, Mitsumura had disappeared from the alley. The sun had finished setting and I was surrounded by darkness. It was as though she had melted into the darkness like a mirage on a summer day. But she was still there, beyond my sight.
I killed my father...
The words lingered in my ears.
Until then, I'd held a vague hope that she wasn't the culprit. There was a possibility, however small, that the real culprit was somewhere out there. Even now, that possibility still existed. What she'd said just then might have been a joke.
Despite that, I was strangely convinced. Having just had an encounter with Mitsumura, I completely believed it.
She really had killed someone.
Starting that day, I collected all the information I could on the Mitsumura case and read it day in and day out. I kept replaying the case information in my head, again and again, trying to solve how she'd created the locked room. I thought about how Mitsumura usually thought and what she might have done. I always kept her image in my mind.
My obsession with the incident lasted for about a year. I've given up on ever solving it, but even now, every time I close my eyes, I can still see the crime scene.
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