Chapter 38: The Unanswered Questions
Mr. Hasebe’s brow furrowed deeply, his eyes clouded with a mixture of frustration and confusion. He hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully, before finally speaking in a tone that betrayed his uncertainty. “Koichi… he never talked to me about that kind of thing. Every time I tried to bring it up, he’d brush me off, get annoyed. And with him staying out so often, I couldn’t really keep track of his life. But…” He paused, his voice trailing off before he fixed Kagehara Tetsuya with a questioning look. “What does this have to do with the case?”
Tetsuya leaned back slightly, he lied, continuing to probe the topic. “I was thinking, if Hasebe-san had a girlfriend, she might know something useful. He wasn’t a young man anymore. Did you ever consider arranging a matchmaking meeting for him? How did he react?”
“Of course, I thought about it. Last year, I found a good candidate—a nice girl, only twenty-eight, gentle, polite. I thought she’d be perfect for him. But when I told Koichi to meet her…” He shook his head, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. “He stood her up. Can you believe it? It was so rude.”
Tetsuya’s eyes narrowed slightly, “What exactly did he say when you told him about her?”
Mr. Hasebe sighed, his shoulders slumping. “He said she was ugly. And too old. Can you imagine? A twenty-eight-year-old, too old for him?” He let out a bitter chuckle, but there was no humor in it.
“Did you ever ask him what kind of woman he did like?” Tetsuya pressed, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. “Or ask him to show you a photo, so you could find someone similar?”
“I asked. But he never gave me anything. No photos, no descriptions. Nothing.” He paused, his expression shifting to one of suspicion. “But really, what does this have to do with the case?”
Seem like it’s not going to be easy to get information from him, Tetsuya thought. For now, he decided to change tack.
“May I take a look at Hasebe-san’s room?” Tetsuya asked, his tone polite but firm.
Mr. Hasebe blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Oh… of course. Follow me.”
The Hasebe residence was spacious, with an air of faded elegance. The decor and furniture were dated, but the house was well-kept and functional. Hasebe Koichi’s room, located on the second floor, faced the west, and at this hour, the crimson glow of the setting sun spilled through the window, casting a warm, almost melancholic light over the space.
"The police came through a few days ago," Mr. Hasebe said as he flicked on the light switch. "After they left, I cleaned up a bit. It’s not as messy as it was, but I didn’t throw anything away. Everything’s still here."
Tetsuya gave a curt nod, his eyes already scanning the room. "Did they take anything when they searched?" he asked.
"No, they just took photos. Lots of them."
Tetsuya’s brow furrowed slightly. The police had found nothing of interest, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but it left him with more questions than answers. He moved to the wardrobe in the corner, its doors slightly ajar. Inside hung an array of clothes—expensive brands that stood out starkly against the modest surroundings. Hasebe Koichi hadn’t earned enough to afford these on his own. Tetsuya ran a hand along the fabric before closing the wardrobe and turning his attention to the computer desk.
On the desk sat two cardboard boxes, neatly packed by Mr. Hasebe. The first contained a collection of odds and ends: a flashy butterfly knife, cheap replicas, biker gang paraphernalia made of alloy, and a stack of motorcycle magazines. Tetsuya sifted through them quickly, finding nothing of immediate interest. His gaze shifted to the second box, where an old-fashioned photo album with a black cover caught his eye.
"Is this Hasebe-san’s photo album? Can I take a look?" he asked, lifting it out. Mr. Hasebe nodded, and Tetsuya began flipping through the pages.
"The early photos are from his childhood," Mr. Hasebe explained, his voice tinged with regret. "He was always getting into trouble, even back then. By middle school, it was worse. I should’ve disciplined him better, but... well, it’s too late now."
The album was only half-filled. The first section was a chronological record of Koichi’s life, but the photos stopped abruptly during his third year of high school. The rest of the pages were blank. Tetsuya paused, his finger resting on the last photo—a grainy image of a teenage Koichi, his expression sullen, his posture defiant.
"Did he stop taking photos after this?" Tetsuya asked, glancing up.
"That was taken in his third year," Mr. Hasebe said. "After that, he went to prison. When he got out, physical photos weren’t really a thing anymore. Everyone used their phones. But even then, Koichi wasn’t one for pictures. He hardly took any."
Tetsuya tilted his head, curious. "How do you know he didn’t take any? Maybe he just didn’t show them to you."
"Because I asked him," Mr. Hasebe replied, his tone tinged with frustration. "After he got out, he went on a lot of trips. I gave him a phone and told him to take pictures of the places he visited. But he never did. Not a single photo."
"I even complained to him about it. I said, ‘Take some nice photos so your mom and I can see them too.’ But he wouldn’t listen. He always said it was too much trouble or he didn’t have time."
Tetsuya’s eyes narrowed. Koichi’s "trips" were likely a cover for something else. The question was, what? His mind already turning over the possibilities.
"Earlier, you mentioned that Hasebe-san stopped asking you for money about a year after his release," Tetsuya said, leaning forward slightly, his voice low and measured. "I assume he stopped going on those trips around the same time, didn’t he?"
"That’s right," Mr. Hasebe replied, his tone tinged with a faint weariness. "Koichi’s always been the type to lose interest quickly. The only thing that ever held his attention for long was motorcycles."
Tetsuya’s mind raced. If that was the case, then Koichi’s "trips" were likely tied to his investigation into Lord Mask-Taker—and he must have found something. But how? The story of Lord Mask-Taker was absurd, bordering on the fantastical. Face-swapping? It was the kind of tale that would make anyone scoff. Unless, of course, they had experienced it themselves.
Could it be that the "Hasebe Koichi" who went on those trips wasn’t the same man who had gone to prison? Had his face been swapped somewhere along the way? Or had it happened even earlier—during his time behind bars?
"Sir," Tetsuya began, choosing his words with deliberate care, "do you think Hasebe-san changed in any way after his release? Even small details could be crucial to the investigation. Please, think carefully."
He had to tread lightly. Mr. Hasebe’s trust was a fragile thing, and anything Tetsuya said now could find its way to the police. Questions about face-swapping or Lord Mask-Taker had to be handled with the utmost discretion.
"I visited Koichi every year while he was in prison," Mr. Hasebe said after a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. "To me, he didn’t seem all that different after his release. Why? Does this case have something to do with his time in prison?"
"I’m not sure yet," Tetsuya replied smoothly, though he could sense the faint stirrings of suspicion in the older man’s voice. He shifted the conversation quickly. "Do you remember where he went on those trips after his release? I think he might have crossed paths with Kagehara Tetsuya during one of them. The age gap between them is too wide for them to have met under normal circumstances."
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