They all raised their glasses until they clinked against each other amidst the lively occupants of the dimly lit and cramped yet comfortable interior. Bringing his glass back down to the dark wooden table, Shinichi relaxed as he watched his friends talk and eat and drink. It's been three years since he took down the Black Organization, along with the aid of the FBI and NPA. Not to mention it would have been nearly impossible to pull off without the help of a certain gentleman thief. Speaking of which, he hasn't pulled off a heist in over six months. It wasn't terribly out of character of the phantom thief to disappear from the eyes of the news media for a while, but it left a vague ache—an odd, slight yearning—that Shinichi couldn't shake off.
"Happy twenty first birthday!" The sweet voices of Ran and Kazuha drifted through the film of thoughts covering his consciousness, and saw that the two lovely brunettes seated in front of him had procured a slice of lemon pie, topped with two sparklers and a dollop of whipped cream. Hattori grinned at him with a mustache of foam upon his upper lip.
Shinichi smiled sincerely at his friends. In all truth, he had forgotten that today was his birthday, so when his friends and coworkers pulled him out of a cold case file and into the Izakaya Bon Temps in Shibuya, he was irritated to say the least. But Hattori told him to let his coworkers at the police station take care of everything for at least one night and to let loose for once. Not to mention, after seeing how hard Ran had worked to get this together for him, he certainly couldn't stay mad for long.
"Thanks guys, I appreciate it. A lot."
"I know," Ran replied, "You really need to stop working so hard and take better care of yourself."
"'s 'xactly as she said, ya workaholic" Hattori but in
"Shut up. It's not like you can say anything Hattori."
Hattori gaped and glared at him before smiling and shaking his head, "I guess we both gotta take care of our health then, eh?"
"I'm glad ya finally understand," Kazuha laughs.
These people really were dear to him. They supported him in his times of need, even when he acted like an ass towards them. They still stuck by him, so he stuck by them. He did all that he could to protect these wonderful people by taking down the black organization. He still woke up in the middle of the night sometimes, his heart seized with terror of the "what ifs", however. Thus, these were the moments that felt like everything was going to be okay.
But of course, knowing his luck, that was when the all-too familiar shrill scream sounded throughout the Izakaya.
"I- I was… I just entered the bathroom to clean and because some guy was complaining about it… and then... Because I was on cleaning duty and… oh god…"
"Tamaki-san, if you could please calm down and tell us the exact details of how you found the body, that would be very helpful."
Shinichi was getting a witness statement from a certain Tamaki Natsuko, age twenty, who was part-timing at the Izakaya they were utilizing. She had let out the scream earlier that struck down the detective's musings.
Listening intently, Hattori stood by, no doubt already formulating his own theories as to what happened.
"I-I walked in and saw that the whole bathroom was flooded. I thought it was weird because bathrooms don't usually do that and… and that's… I opened the third stall and I saw him there, on the toilet. His eyes dull and lifeless… I. I can't," Tamaki's thin frame shook as she let out a slight sob and leaned against Kazuha who was speaking softly to her.
"Ya got any clue on what took place, Kudo?"
"Not yet. I need to get a good look at the body first."
The bathroom was wide enough for him to reach both of the walls if he reached out both of his hands as he stood in the middle. However, the bathroom made up for its cramped space with its stylish light wooden walls and a sleek, black, tiled floor, which was covered in about an inch of water as Tamaki had stated earlier. The body was staring off at the lights in the middle of the room's ceiling with blank eyes, light blue lips agape. All four limbs hung listlessly down. The victim's neck had dark finger-like bruises on its neck. Not to mention the skin that stretched over the victim's lean muscle had a slight blue-ish tint. Nothing in the bathroom—not the toilet paper, the plunger, nothing—save for the faucet of the lone sink had been knocked off, which was the cause for the slight flooding of the bathroom floor.
Stepping closer to the body, Hattori rifled through the body's pockets and found a small note, a phone, and a wallet.
"Based on th' driver's license from the wallet found in the victim's pocket, the victim was one Murata Eiji, age 28, lived in Shinjuku, Kabukicho. Based on th' softness and warmth of the body, along with the marks along his neck, poor ol' Murata was strangled to death no more than four hours ago."
Shinichi hummed in acknowledgement, mind already deep within a web of possibilities.
"What are you kids doing near the body!?" a grubby old voice snatched them both out of their thoughts and back to the present.
"Inspector Megure!"
Taking a lighter tone, the portly inspector stepped into view and smiled at them, "Ah, Kudo-kun. Wrapped up in another case, I see," the inspector eyeing the two lowered his voice, "However, as you're currently off duty, I suggest you step away from the crime scene and enjoy the rest of your night, though I would need you to stay in this Izakaya. You understand."
"Inspector-"
Megure gently pushed the two out from the bathroom without another word.
Hattori, changing his stance from earlier, seemed to sense Shinichi's unwillingness to step away from a case that happened right in front of him, nudged Shinichi towards the other customers. As a fellow detective, Hattori probably could relate to Shinichi's unwillingness to step away from a case, where he would get to take direct action to help solve it.
Receiving the message, Shinichi scanned the crowd to search for probably suspects. There were three possible suspects total that he could see out of the fifteen total customers.
The first had the mix of muscles and sinew bulging beneath his tan skin. Probably a bodybuilder, judging from the amount of food he and his friend ordered. His friend, the second suspect, was well built as well, but not to the extent as suspect number one. Perhaps they were a senpai-kouhai relationship?
"Would you mind answering a few questions?" Shinichi asked, stepping closer to the two with Hattori at his side.
"What about"
"Are you aware of the murder that took place here?"
Suspect number one scoffed and rolled his eyes, staring at the detectives in annoyance.
Despite the lack of a verbal response, Shinichi pressed on, "If you would state your name and age and your relation to Murata Eiji please."
"Tsujikura Koji. What's it to you how old I am? And I've never even heard of that Murara guy."
"It's just standard procedure sir. May I ask what you were doing approximately four hours ago?"
"What. Like, at six? I just got off working at my gym, invited little kouhai-kun here out to drink. I think the rest should be obvious, Mr. Detective."
"...Did you happen to notice anything strange when you were drinking here?"
"Beats Me."
Tsujikura's kouhai, who was silent and shaking his pale (as pale as tan skin could get) frame, suddenly spoke up, " was some guy who kept g-going up to the bathroom and coming back. He-h-he looked pretty angry too."
"Would you mind describing this man?"
The Kouhai removed his trembling hand from his chest to point at another muscular man (albeit not as much as Tsujikura) who was sitting across the room and sweat dripping down his narrowed eyes and pointed eyebrows.
"...Alright. Lastly, may I have your name and age, kouhai-san?"
Averting his eyes, the kouhai mumbled something or other.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
Tsujikura huffed loudly, shaking his head affectionately, "Dumbass. He's Okita Yuuto, 23"
Mumbling once again while shoving Tsujikura with a slight pout, Okita shied away from the two detectives.
"...Thank you both for your time."
Bowing, Shinichi left the two and headed over to the man that the kouhai pointed out as Hattori tsked and followed behind with an air of rumination.