The ride back to the station was tense, the rain falling harder as we drove through the dark streets, the silence between Hana and me thick with unsaid words.

The air was cool, damp with the scent of wet asphalt and the dull hum of the car's engine.

Even though we hadn't spoken since Sasaki's call, I could feel Hana's presence beside me—steady, unyielding, but with an undercurrent of something unresolved.

Something fragile, yet strong.

We were suspended in the same space, both knowing that whatever had just happened between us couldn’t be pushed away.

But for now, duty pulled us back, and we had to set it aside.

We arrived at the station, the familiar glow of fluorescent lights spilling out onto the wet pavement.

The building loomed ahead, its stark, institutional walls somehow more oppressive tonight, as if they knew what was coming.

I parked the car and turned off the engine, listening to the sound of the rain tapping against the roof.

Hana looked at me, her gaze soft but unreadable.

“We’ll get through this”

She said quietly, her voice calm but with an edge that mirrored the tension I felt inside.

I nodded, unable to muster words.

There was too much going on inside my head—Kento, Nagasuki, and now whatever this was between Hana and me.

But one thing was clear: something had shifted, and we couldn’t go back to how things were before.

As we stepped out of the car and headed inside, the cold rain felt like tiny needles against my skin, sharp but grounding.

We made our way through the station, nodding at the few officers still on duty this late.

The place was quieter than usual, but there was a tension in the air, like everyone was waiting for something to break.

When we reached Sasaki’s office, the door was slightly ajar, light spilling out into the dim hallway.

I knocked lightly before pushing the door open.

Sasaki was sitting behind his desk, his face drawn, eyes fixed on a file in front of him.

He looked up as we entered, his expression grim.

“Keisuke, Hana”

He greeted, his voice low, as if the words were weighed down by something heavy.

“Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“What’s going on?”

I asked, though the knot in my stomach already told me this wasn’t going to be good.

Sasaki sighed, leaning back in his chair.

He looked older in the harsh light of his office, the lines on his face more pronounced, the weariness in his eyes undeniable.

“Nagasuki Mitsuo is dead.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, sinking in slowly.

I exchanged a quick glance with Hana, who remained expressionless, though I knew her mind was already spinning.

“Nagasuki?”

I repeated, my voice rougher than I intended.

“What the hell happened?”

Sasaki rubbed his temples, clearly exhausted.

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“He was found in his cell about an hour ago. Dead. It looks like… a suicide.”

“A suicide?”

Hana’s voice was sharp, cutting through the thick silence that followed.

“How could that happen? He was under constant surveillance, wasn’t he?”

Sasaki nodded, his jaw tightening.

“That’s the thing. He was under surveillance. His cell had cameras, and there were guards stationed outside. But somehow, they didn’t see anything. No movement, no sign of struggle. He just… died.”

I frowned, the details not making any sense.

“No signs of struggle? What about the cause of death?”

“We’re still waiting on the full autopsy report”

Sasaki replied, his tone clipped.

“But from what I’ve seen, there were no visible injuries. No marks on his neck, no bruises, nothing. It’s like he just… stopped breathing.”

I could feel the unease creeping up my spine.

Nagasuki was a lot of things—cunning, manipulative, dangerous—but suicide?

That didn’t fit.

He had been too careful, too meticulous, and too proud.

He wouldn’t have gone down like that.

Not quietly.

Not without a fight.

“That doesn’t make any sense"

I muttered, pacing a few steps as I tried to piece it together.

“There has to be something we’re missing.”

Before Sasaki could respond, the door to his office swung open, and Detective Kurogane entered.

His usual composed, almost distant demeanor was gone, replaced by a sharp intensity.

He closed the door behind him, his presence commanding the room as he walked toward us.

“I’ve just come from the scene”

Kurogane said, his voice rough.

“It’s… strange. Very strange.”

Sasaki leaned forward in his chair, his expression darkening.

“What do you mean?”

Kurogane glanced at us, then at Sasaki, before continuing.

“I went to Nagasuki’s cell myself. The cameras were functioning properly, and the guards claim they didn’t see or hear anything unusual. But when I checked the footage… it’s like something’s off.”

“Off how?”

Hana asked, her tone even but with a growing sense of urgency.

Kurogane crossed his arms, his brow furrowing.

“The footage from the last hour shows him lying in bed, completely still. Not moving. Not even a twitch. It’s almost like he knew he was going to die and just… accepted it. The strange thing is, the footage looks fine, but when you watch it, there’s this… flicker. Like a glitch. Just for a second. Right before he stops moving.”

My mind raced, trying to process what Kurogane was saying.

A glitch?

In a maximum-security facility with state-of-the-art surveillance?

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Something felt deeply wrong here, but I couldn’t put my finger on it yet.

“And you’re sure it’s a suicide?”

I asked, my voice low, but with an edge of suspicion.

“No foul play? No signs of interference?”

Kurogane shook his head.

“The autopsy will give us a clearer picture, but from what we’ve seen, there’s nothing to suggest foul play. No external injuries, no poison detected in the preliminary tests. It’s like his body just… gave up.”

“Gave up”

I repeated, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

Sasaki sighed heavily, running a hand through his thinning hair.

“We’re going to need more than speculation. Whatever’s going on here, we can’t afford to overlook anything.”

I nodded, my thoughts churning.

Nagasuki was the one who killed Kento, but his death didn't feel right.

Was it just a suicide?

Or something more sinister?

As we sat in uneasy silence, the door creaked open again, and an officer appeared, looking pale and nervous.

He handed Kurogane a file.

“Sir, this just came in from forensics.”

Kurogane flipped through the pages quickly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the report.

After a long pause, he looked up, his expression unreadable.

“Preliminary findings suggest that Nagasuki’s heart simply stopped. No signs of trauma, no drugs in his system, nothing. It’s as if he died of natural causes.”

“Natural causes?”

Hana repeated, her voice thick with disbelief.

“He wasn’t that old, and from what we knew, he was healthy. This doesn’t add up.”

Kurogane nodded, his jaw tight.

“I agree. But for now, that’s all we have. We’ll have to wait for the full report.”

I sat back in my chair, staring at the floor.

Natural causes.

Suicide.

Surveillance glitches.

None of it fit together.

Nagasuki was too dangerous to simply die in his sleep.

And yet, here we were, faced with a dead man and more questions than answers.

“What about his cell?”

I asked, my voice low.

“Was there anything unusual? Anything out of place?”

Kurogane shook his head.

“Nothing. The cell was spotless. No sign of any struggle, no sign that anyone else had been in there. It’s like he just… vanished.”

I exchanged a glance with Hana, who was watching Kurogane closely, her eyes sharp with suspicion.

She wasn’t buying it either.

“We need to dig deeper”

She said, her voice steady but firm.

“Something’s not right here. Nagasuki wouldn’t have gone down like this. Not without a fight.”

Sasaki nodded, his face grim.

“Agreed. We’ll start pulling everything we can—interview the guards, review the footage frame by frame, recheck the forensics. We can’t leave anything to chance.”

As the conversation continued, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were missing something important.

Something big.

Nagasuki’s death was too convenient, too perfectly timed.

It would have been important to find out who was running the criminal activities in Kyoto.

And now, he was gone.

I glanced at Hana again, and she gave me a slight nod.

We were thinking the same thing.

As we left Sasaki’s office, the rain still falling in sheets outside, I felt a chill creep up my spine.

Nagasuki’s death had opened up a whole new set of questions, and I knew we weren’t even close to finding the answers.

The storm outside mirrored the one building inside me—dark, dangerous, and growing.

Hana walked beside me in silence as we made our way back to the car, her steps slow, deliberate.

I could feel the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her, just like mine.

We had a lot to figure out.

And not just about the case.