13. A Happy Routine Shouldn't Dull Your Vigilance

Life isn't a single-player game that you can save, close, and return to months or years later. The Earth keeps orbiting the Sun, and billions of people continue their complicated interactions on its surface. The world around us is changing. What was left behind in the distant past can't be resumed.

At least that's what I thought until the morning I woke up next to Yukino. It was as if ten years hadn't passed at all. There was plenty of awkwardness between us that morning, but that's how it was at the beginning of our relationship too. We were constantly bumping into small obstacles. And we had our fair share of major ones too.

We were both loners with complicated personalities. We pushed people away with our skeptical view of the world and sarcasm. We hurt ourselves with endless self-reflection — me more, Yukino less. It would have been strange to assume everything would just fall into place.

But we quickly found a rhythm that worked for both of us. We met a couple of times a week during workdays and tried to spend weekends together. Anything more wasn't possible — Yukino remained a workaholic, sometimes staying at her desk for 16-18 hours a day. We went to the movies, the theaters, concerts, exhibitions, even Destinyland. We made love — sometimes at my place, sometimes at hers, under the disapproving gaze of Hana, her sleek, black-and-white, mixed-breed cat with clear voyeuristic tendencies.

I met Yukino's boss at the law firm. Another reminder of how deceiving appearances can be. Underneath the cherubic smile of a figure straight out of a Western Christmas card, that woman hid a ruthless and aggressive predator. Yukino secretly told me that after court sessions Taiga Takasu would set up a makiwara in her office, write the opponent's name on it, and start beating it with an old, battered bokken. Every couple of months, she'd buy new targets in bulk. But she was reasonable with me. We even accepted an invitation to a barbecue once. That was a mistake. It turned out Takasu's husband was a seasoned chef. Yukino's competitive spirit kicked in, and she entered a culinary showdown — one she lost. We all ate until we were stuffed, but Yukino's mood afterwards was utterly miserable.

The meeting with Yuigahama went even worse. Yu was clinging to her school friend like a little monkey to her mother, leaving me and her husband to fend for ourselves. Ito and I had disliked each other from the start, and several hours together didn't change that. He tried to maintain at least a minimal level of polite conversation, but first of all, I can't stand that kind of empty chatter. Second, we had almost no common interests. Or you think I could tell him how I had once reduced Yuigahama to tears without even letting her confess her feelings for me! We briefly talked about bicycles, and that was it.

But despite the occasional missteps, we were happy together. It was as if the ten-year break hadn't happened.

Naturally, we couldn't devote all our time to each other. Sometimes, crimes unravel on their own, but even then, I need a thick stack of various documents. But in most cases, it's still necessary to work both with my head and my feet. Yukino, unbound by the strict demands of government bureaucracy, set her own work schedule. She took on as many cases as she could handle. I should mention that her help wasn't only needed by the poor. One case in particular caught my interest, so I went to court to observe the hearings.

The situation was painfully familiar to any detective. To appease the right person, you feed and water them at your own expense, and then your bosses don't reimburse you. In my case, that usually meant four to six thousand yen for a meal at an izakaya. But in Yukino's client's case, their bank account shrank by 3.24 million yen after organizing a reception for a relative of the Sultan of Brunei, with whom the client's company had been negotiating. The negotiations failed, and the company refused to reimburse the top executive for expenses exceeding the 500,000 yen originally planned in the budget. The defendant's lawyers squirmed like eels on a hot pan, but my beloved woman still proved the plaintiff's case.

I also hadn't forgotten Yukino's request. I started building a network of contacts that would allow me to gather some information about the affairs of the Yukinoshita family business and potential problems with her father's political career.

The first part was easy. "Yukinoshita Kensetsu" had been operating in Chiba for decades, and they had many contractors. I met some people who weren't too happy with the way the construction giant did business. I made connections with retirees who still loved to spread rumors about the company. I even gently pulled on the strings of some middle management people who weren't too loyal. They were convinced I was a reporter preparing an exposé about their employer.

The second part was harder. I'm apolitical, and my specialty is property crime. But I still managed to establish some contacts in the regional branch of the LDP.

It took a lot of time and effort. The results were minimal. It was just general background dissatisfaction with the wealthy and influential family whose name even the deer in the parks knew. Not everyone supported Mr. Yukinoshita's ambitions to run for president of the party, and objectively speaking, his chances weren't great. But the mere fact that Nobuo Yukinoshita was aiming for that post made him a potential candidate for prime minister. And that was high-level politics, where even the actions of foreign intelligence agencies couldn't be ruled out.

I thought about this over lunch, sipping on mediocre ramen at a newly opened place near the station. The noodles were decent, but they really skimped on the broth. Still, there were few empty seats. I sighed heavily when a plain-looking man in his forties in a brown suit and dark green tie asked if he could join me.

My loner habits often conflict with the instincts of a policeman who constantly needs to assess the situation around him. I took a closer look. At first glance, the man looked like a typical office worker. But the suit seemed custom-made, his shirt cuffs had cufflinks instead of plastic buttons, and the mechanical watch on his left wrist would cost me a couple of months' salary.

"Detective Hikigaya, right?"

"May I ask who's inquiring?"

Like any law enforcement officer, I don't like it when strangers approach me and address me by my title. At best, it's a lawyer preparing to call me as a defense witness in a case where I'd rather be on the prosecution's side. At worst, I'm about to receive an offer I can't refuse.

"My name is Kobayashi Sato. I've heard rumors that you're deeply interested in the affairs of the Yukinoshita clan."

I discreetly reached into my pocket and pressed the power button on my work phone. Thanks to a previous simple manipulation with the settings, it activated the voice recorder.

"May I ask, Kobayashi-san, how do my interests concern yours?"

"I represent the interests of people who also care about this family. We might have a productive collaboration. I'm not offering money; that would be bribery. But what police officer would refuse information?"

"Careful."

Kobayashi smiled.

"The people I represent have access to certain information that suggests Nobuo Yukinoshita has violated criminal laws. The problem is, simply taking this to the police, the prosecutor's office, or even the newspapers won't work. They wanted to use it to blackmail Mr. Yukinoshita, but I, as a prudent intermediary, persuaded them against such a blatant violation of the law."

"Let's assume this information exists. But what does it have to do with me?"

"You're the only law enforcement officer in the prefecture actively digging into the Yukinoshita clan. This means you're conducting some unofficial investigation. If you find evidence, it could turn into an official one. It would be a major victory for law enforcement, guaranteeing fame and promotion for you."

"So, you want me to legalize the kompromat on Mr. Yukinoshita through my work, right?"

"In general terms, yes."

"Where are the guarantees that I won't be used behind my back?"

"No one can give you those guarantees."

"Where are the guarantees this isn't a hoax?"

"I can provide you with some fragments to review. I'll send them via email. Take a look, think it over. You can contact me through it. Have a good day, Hikigaya-san."

Kobayashi, although I strongly doubted that was his real name, gave a slight bow and left. I stayed behind to finish my cold ramen. My personal phone buzzed. I received an email. Of course, it was from a service guaranteeing full anonymity for users. The attachments included several photos of documents and two audio files.

Unfortunately, Yukino was right. There's a big conspiracy surrounding her family, and they're trying to make me a part of it.