Chapter 35: An Unexpected Situation

Nearing the border that separated Nagano and Mitsuba Wards, Yomikawa Tsuko felt a sudden, sharp pang of hunger. She had been so consumed with the task of fabricating the diary since dawn that she had completely forgotten the simple, human need for sustenance. Spotting the bright oasis of a convenience store nearby, she decided to grab a functional drink to silence the rumbling in her stomach.

“You know the way to Kimura-kun’s house from here, right?” she said to Takada. “I’m just going to buy something. Wait for me here.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Takada’s face. In truth, he desperately wanted to go into the store with her. The simple, domestic act of Browse the aisles together, of choosing products side-by-side… wouldn’t that feel almost… like a date? But Yomikawa Tsuko hadn’t extended the invitation, and he was too crippled by the fear of rejection to ask. So, he could only nod dumbly and stand his ground, waving to Ōgami Yōsuke and Ueno Junko up ahead, signaling them to go on without him, that he would catch up shortly.

Two minutes later, Ōgami and the others had already rounded a street corner, vanishing from Takada Shōji’s line of sight. He glanced back just as Yomikawa Tsuko emerged from the convenience store’s sliding glass doors. She handed him a cold, bottled drink. “This is for you.”

“Th-thank you, Senpai.” Takada took a grateful sip, then pointed towards the street corner. “It’s just around that bend, then another fifty meters or so to Kimura-san’s place. Ōgami and the others have already gone ahead. We should probably get a move on.”

Yomikawa Tsuko nodded. They began to walk side-by-side, a comfortable silence between them. They hadn’t taken more than a few steps when a piercing, terrified scream suddenly ripped through the quiet afternoon air, echoing from around the corner.

“Ahhh!!”

The voice… it was unmistakably Kana’s. Takada and Yomikawa exchanged a look, both their faces registering a mixture of surprise and alarm. Without a word, they broke into a run.

As they neared the corner, a subtle, almost imperceptible change occurred in Yomikawa Tsuko’s demeanor. Her eyebrows arched slightly, and her eyes, if such a thing were possible, seemed to grow even brighter, more focused, a predatory light igniting in their dark depths.

She heard it then. The sound of a dog barking.

And this sound… this specific cadence, this particular timbre… it was a sound she knew all too well.

A pit bull.

“Woof, woof, woof…”

In an instant, a detailed, clinical analysis formed in her mind. The bark isn’t particularly sharp, a little hollow even, but it lacks a certain depth and resonance. The dog’s size, therefore, is likely only medium. It is only barking, not growling or snarling, which means it has not yet entered a full-blown attack mode. The inherent viciousness of its breed has not yet been completely unleashed. It is probably on a leash, or securely tied up.

As for Kana, aside from that initial, hysterical shriek, there have been no other sounds. She clearly has not been attacked. Merely… startled.

Honestly, Yomikawa thought, a flicker of cold, calculating annoyance cutting through her. This girl is so pathetically timid. She was terrified when she found the body at the hot spring inn, too. So much so that she had to take leave from school.

Can I really rely on someone with such a fragile psyche to create a… ‘suitable’… criminal case? Unlikely.

As she and Takada Shōji rounded the corner, the scene that greeted them was exactly as she had predicted. Behind a sturdy, iron-barred gate, a powerfully built brown pit bull, its fangs bared, was barking furiously at a pale, trembling Kana. The dog’s muscles were bunched and coiled like thick ropes, and it repeatedly slammed its body against the unyielding gate, a clear, desperate desire to break free and launch an attack.

But Yomikawa, who was intimately, almost preternaturally familiar with the nature of these creatures, knew that this was mostly posturing. A bluff. The barks were ferocious, yes, the lunges against the gate dramatic, but its actual intent to attack was, at present, surprisingly low. For now, it was merely in a state of agitated intimidation.

“What’s all the fuss about? I heard Kana’s scream and thought something serious had happened!” Takada grumbled, seemingly regretting that he had rushed over, wasting a few precious, irreplaceable moments of alone time with Yomikawa.

He strode directly towards Ōgami and the others. But then he noticed that Yomikawa had stopped dead at the corner, her gaze fixed, with an unnerving intensity, on the pit bull behind the gate. He asked, a little surprised, “What’s wrong, Senpai? Are you afraid of dogs too?”

“Oh. It’s nothing.” Yomikawa snapped back to the present, her voice smooth and even. She began to walk forward slowly, but her gaze, seemingly of its own accord, kept drifting to the side, drawn to the snarling animal.

She could feel it. Something in the deepest, most ancient recesses of her mind, something long dormant, was beginning to stir. To awaken.

As she drew closer, the pit bull behind the gate suddenly stopped barking.

It turned its head, its dark, intelligent eyes locking onto Yomikawa Tsuko’s approaching figure.

And as she neared, it slowly, almost imperceptibly lowered its body, its powerful muscles rippling under its short coat. It bared its fangs in a silent, menacing snarl, and a low, guttural growl, rough and full of a deep, primal malice, began to rumble in its throat.

Ōgami Yōsuke watched this sudden, strange transformation with a growing sense of bewilderment.

Yomikawa was walking towards them, yes, but in doing so, she was also, step by step, closing the distance between herself and the iron gate. And as she did, the pit bull’s reaction grew more and more… intense.

Saliva, thick and viscous, began to drip from its bared fangs. Its posture grew more and more aggressive, a coiled spring of pure, unadulterated viciousness. But then, as Yomikawa continued her unhurried, almost lazy approach, something completely unexpected, something that defied all logical explanation, happened.

The pit bull began to slowly… retreat.

It was the raw, instinctive reaction of a wild animal that has sensed, on some deep, preternatural level, the presence of a greater, more dangerous, and infinitely more terrifying predator.

Its fangs were bared wider, its mouth stretched in a silent, desperate snarl, but its paws, its powerful, muscular legs, were undeniably, inarguably, moving backward, one hesitant, shuffling step at a time.

By the time Yomikawa reached Kana’s side, the straight-line distance between her and the pit bull was less than three meters.

And in that instant, the ferocious creature, as if its nerve, its courage, its very sense of self, had finally, completely shattered, let out a high-pitched, almost pathetic whimper, turned tail, and fled, vanishing from sight in the blink of an eye.

“That kind of dog… it’s called a pit bull, isn’t it? I heard they’re an extremely vicious breed,” Junko said, crossing her arms with a huff of disapproval. “Honestly, why would anyone keep a dog like that? It’s so incredibly dangerous.” Compared to ferocious dogs, she much preferred cute, cuddly cats.

“Well, pit bulls were specifically bred for fighting,” Ōgami Yōsuke explained, his tone calm and informative, though his eyes kept flicking back towards Yomikawa. “They’re ‘fighting dogs,’ bred for the pit. It’s said that in combat, not only do they possess exceptional stamina and a devastating bite force, but their skin has a very low sensitivity to pain. When they’re excited, they feel almost nothing, and once they bite down on their prey, they absolutely will not let go. That’s why they’re so… prized… by dog-fighting enthusiasts.”

Kana, still shaken, moved closer to Yomikawa, shivering as her overactive imagination conjured up gruesome images of being bitten. “Just hearing about it is terrifying.”

Yomikawa Tsuko unconsciously flexed her long, slender fingers, a strange smile playing on her lips. “Not feeling pain… well, that’s not entirely accurate. If you do something… extreme… enough to them, they, too, will whimper and beg for mercy.”

That look in their eyes, then… when they finally break… it’s quite…

“Huh?” Junko looked at her, a little confused by her odd, detached comment.

“Well, there are videos online, aren’t there?” Yomikawa said, smoothly recovering. “Of this kind of dog, I believe. One that provokes a young tiger and gets its neck broken for its trouble. Didn’t it let out a very… pathetic… cry for mercy then?” Damn it. Almost said ‘adorable.’ A careless slip.

“Eh? Eh-eh? Pathetic? You think that monster was pathetic…?” Kana looked up at her, a look of utter, uncomprehending astonishment on her face.

“That dog just now,” Ōgami Yōsuke remarked, his gaze sharp, analytical, and deeply curious, “it seemed genuinely terrified of you, Senpai. The moment you arrived, it immediately turned tail and fled.”

Yomikawa Tsuko saw the look on Ōgami’s face, knew his relentless, analytical mind had been piqued once more. Not wanting to get bogged down in this particular and rather dangerous topic, she said, her voice light and dismissive, “Perhaps it was the smell of medicine on me. Now, where is Kimura-kun’s house? We should hurry.”

“It’s just up ahead,” Takada Shōji said, pointing with his chin. He then ushered the others forward. Like Kana and Junko, he had already dismissed the bizarre incident with the dog as insignificant, a momentary distraction.

Only Ōgami Yōsuke lagged behind. He kept glancing back at the empty, silent yard where the dog had been, then up at Yomikawa Tsuko’s graceful, retreating figure, a thoughtful, deeply unsettled expression on his face.

After ringing the doorbell, the scenario Junko had imagined – the classic detective trope of being rudely refused entry – didn’t happen. To their surprise, the group was welcomed inside without any trouble.

Kimura’s home was an ordinary, perfectly respectable, two-story Japanese-style house. A small, neat yard in front contained a single-car garage and some miscellaneous items that looked like they hadn’t been tidied up recently. Geographically, the house was in a decent location, and would have been quite expensive. The Kimura family was clearly quite well-off.

Kimura’s mother appeared to be in her early forties. She was wearing a set of light-colored, comfortable loungewear. Although her face was etched with a deep, profound exhaustion, she managed a gentle, welcoming smile as she greeted the unexpected visitors.

After serving them tea in the living room, Kimura’s mother asked the purpose of their visit. Upon hearing it, she sighed, a sound heavy with a mother’s weary, helpless worry. “No matter what, thank you all for your concern for my son. He’s become more and more… strange… lately. For a whole week now, he’s been locked up in his room, refusing to come out. Sometimes, he’ll just… start shouting, for no reason at all, disturbing the neighbors. I try to take him to see a doctor, but he refuses to go.”

Ōgami Yōsuke leaned forward slightly. “Is he still sleeping during the day and active at night?”

“He never leaves his room. When he sleeps, when he’s awake… I have no idea anymore. I just know that besides his normal mealtimes, every night, around midnight, I make him something to eat and leave it outside his door. The next morning, the empty bowl and chopsticks are there, waiting to be washed.”

Ōgami Yōsuke asked another, more pointed question. “Forgive me for being so blunt, ma’am, but have you ever personally witnessed him sleepwalking? Or have you always discovered it after the fact?”

Kimura’s mother paused, her brow furrowing in thought as she tried to recall the timeline. “I… I’ve only ever discovered it after the fact. For instance, being woken up suddenly at four or five in the morning by the doorbell, and opening the door to find him standing there in his pajamas, a look of pure, unadulterated terror on his face. Or him suddenly coming home at seven or eight in the morning, still in his pajamas and slippers, saying he’d been… sleepwalking… again.”

Hearing this, Ōgami Yōsuke nodded slowly, a bright, keen, almost triumphant light flashing in his eyes.