The corners of Kanjuro's mouth held that inscrutable smile, as if he were savoring a rather self-satisfied old memory. He paid no mind to the sudden change in the expressions of the women around him. Using his unique, clear, yet slightly lazy voice, he began to tell the story, his tone as frank as if he were recounting a tale that had nothing to do with him:
"Sayuri... she was indeed a very interesting woman." He swirled the teacup in his hand, his gaze becoming misty as he drifted into memory. "She was the only daughter of Inspector Matsumoto. At that time, I had just transferred schools... it was probably around the sixth grade."
As his words fell, the air in the living room seemed to freeze even further. Sixth grade?! Miyano Elena's pupils constricted, the perfect smile on Tomoko Suzuki's face stiffened for a moment, and even Akemi and Sonoko, who "adored" Kanjuro the most, showed looks of astonishment.
Kanjuro seemed not to notice and continued, his tone even carrying a hint of playfulness:
"Back then, she was like an exquisite and fragile porcelain doll, very well-protected and very... innocent. I thought it was quite interesting, and I wanted to see what it would look like if that purity were broken."
He paused, throwing out a detail that made everyone's spine go cold.
"So, I deliberately found a group of local thugs and had them wait on the path she had to take home from school. I gave them a little 'benefit' and had them harass and scare her."
"What?!" Suzuki Ayako couldn't help but cry out softly, covering her mouth with her hand. Even Ai Haibara furrowed her brows, her gaze toward Kanjuro becoming even more complex.
Kanjuro gave a light chuckle, seemingly very satisfied with the shocked reactions of the crowd.
"Then, just when she was most afraid and helpless, I 'happened' to appear and easily drove those thugs away." He made a casual gesture. "The hero saving the beauty—though cliché, it was certainly effective. From that day on, the way Sayuri looked at me changed completely. It was filled with gratitude, dependence, and... that kind of ignorant adoration of a young girl. She fell completely in love with me, believing I was her guardian god."
His description was so cold and calculating, stripping a supposedly beautiful childhood encounter down to nothing but naked manipulation and schemes.
"She was very attached to me and wanted to be with me almost every day." Kanjuro continued, his tone flat, but a faint, hard-to-capture satisfaction flashed in his eyes when he mentioned Sayuri's attachment. "Unfortunately, her father, that old-fashioned Inspector Matsumoto, somehow found out about my status as a Chinese person. He was very dissatisfied and strongly opposed our association, feeling I wasn't good enough for his precious daughter."
"But Sayuri was very stubborn. She even argued with her father several times for my sake." Kanjuro's tone rose slightly, carrying a hint of boasting. "At that time, in her eyes and heart, there was probably only me."
The atmosphere became even more oppressive. Tomoko Suzuki struggled to maintain her smile, but her fingertips were already digging slightly into her palms. Miyano Elena looked at Kanjuro with eyes full of disbelief; she realized that her understanding of this man was still far from enough.
"What happened later?" Akemi couldn't help but press for more. Although she felt Kanjuro's methods were a bit... unique, she was more curious about the rest of the story.
Kanjuro set down his teacup and leaned back slightly, his gaze drifting out the window as if piercing through time and space.
"Later? Her father was transferred, and the whole family was to leave Tokyo, completely severing the connection between us." His voice remained calm, but his next words were like a thunderclap exploding in the living room.
"The night before she left, she snuck out to see me. We... met under the swing set in the park."
He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping over each face filled with shock. Finally, in an extremely candid, even somewhat cruelly poetic tone, he clearly uttered the final words:
"And, we had sex."
"..."
Silence.
An absolute silence enveloped the entire living room.
Sixth grade! The night before leaving! Having sex!
The impact of these keywords combined was devastating.
Suzuki Sonoko's mouth hung open, unable to close for a long time.
Suzuki Ayako's face turned pale, her eyes dazed.
Tomoko Suzuki took a deep breath. The hand holding her teacup trembled slightly, requiring immense self-control to maintain her composure.
Miyano Elena closed her eyes, her chest heaving slightly as if she couldn't bear the weight of this information.
Miyano Akemi was also stunned, seemingly finally realizing what kind of behavioral patterns, far beyond ordinary understanding, might be hidden behind the "liking" and "being together" Kanjuro spoke of.
As for Ai Haibara, she gave Kanjuro a deep look. In that gaze, besides her usual detachment and scrutiny, there was a clear trace of chill. She finally gained a more concrete understanding of her biological father—how deeply rooted his precocity, profound calculation, and disregard for moral boundaries were from such a young age, and to what terrifying extent they had reached. To be able to plot such a "hero saving the beauty" drama in the sixth grade and have sex with the other party on the night of departure... this had already surpassed the realm of "precocity"; he was simply like an experienced predator wearing the skin of a child.
Kanjuro took in everyone's reactions. Far from feeling the slightest guilt or embarrassment, he looked as if he had just finished a brilliant performance. The smile at the corners of his mouth deepened, carrying an almost devilish pleasure.
"Are you surprised?" he asked softly, breaking the silence. "Even back then, I knew very well that if I wanted something, I had to take the initiative to plan and control it. Feelings are no exception."
His honesty was appalling, and his cruelty was chilling.
This past event regarding Matsumoto Sayuri was like a mirror, suddenly reflecting the dark and cold undertones that had long existed in the depths of Kanjuro's soul. This caused the women, who had already begun to adapt to (or were forced to accept) the status quo, to feel a surge of stormy emotions once again. They realized how fragile and distorted the foundation of the 'happiness' and 'harmony' surrounding this man was, and that they were facing a being who was fundamentally at odds with 'normalcy' from the depths of his soul.
The name Matsumoto Sayuri brought not just a buried memory, but a trial and an impact on everyone's hearts.
Akemi Miyano's words, tinged with a bit of innocence and a desire to see the world burn, were like a fuse that instantly ignited a playful flame in Kanjuro's eyes. He let out a laugh, as if he had truly been reminded of a trivial yet interesting matter:
"Oh? Now that you mention it, I almost forgot. Back then, Inspector Matsumoto couldn't wait to kick this 'little brat' who 'corrupted' his daughter out of Tokyo." His tone was light, but the coldness in his words made those present who understood his character shudder. Give him a lesson? With Kanjuro's current status and methods, this "lesson" would likely be anything but easy.
However, before Kanjuro could say anything more, Suzuki Sonoko seemed to suddenly remember something. She blinked and spoke with a reminiscent look on her face:
"Matsumoto Sayuri... Ah! I remember now! Father Kanjuro, are you talking about that very gentle and beautiful music teacher? She used to teach our middle school music class!"
Her words caught everyone's attention.
"I remember... I think I heard some former classmates mention recently that Ms. Matsumoto... is about to get married! It seems like it's happening in the next few days!"
"Getting married?"
As these words left Sonoko's mouth, the living room fell silent for a moment.
Everyone's eyes subconsciously focused on Kanjuro, wanting to see how he would react. Would it be anger? Disdain? Or... regret?
The lazy smile on Kanjuro's face didn't change at all; there wasn't even a ripple of surprise. He simply raised an eyebrow slightly, and the curve of his lips deepened a bit more, his eyes flashing with an almost joyful light, like he had discovered a new toy.
He gently set down the teacup he had been playing with, making a crisp clinking sound. Then, in a tone that was clearly interested yet bone-chillingly cold, he slowly said:
"I see... She's getting married soon."
He nodded slightly, as if he had heard news that was very much to his liking.
"Then I must definitely go and join the fun."
His words were calm, without gritted teeth or fuming rage, but that matter-of-fact tone—as if he were about to go inspect his own property—made everyone present except Akemi feel a chill crawl up their spines.
His going to "join the fun" was definitely not as simple as attending as a guest to offer his blessings.
Given Kanjuro's personality, his past with Matsumoto Sayuri which was full of calculation and control, and Inspector Matsumoto's rejection of him back then... his appearance now would be nothing less than a storm of unknown fortune or disaster for Matsumoto Sayuri, who was about to enter the halls of marriage.
A flash of worry passed through Miyano Elena's eyes, but she knew well that she had no standing and no ability to stop Kanjuro.
Ai Haibara sneered in her heart, feeling disgusted by Kanjuro's behavior of wantonly intervening in others' lives and treating it as entertainment, yet she was also helpless.
Tomoko Suzuki and Ayako exchanged a look, both seeing the same realization in each other's eyes—Father Kanjuro was about to start his familiar "game" again.
Only Akemi Miyano still had a bright smile as she clapped her hands. "That's great! Brother Kanjuro must go! Let that Inspector Matsumoto, who looked down on you back then, see how powerful you are now!"
Kanjuro smiled and reached out to ruffle Akemi's hair, but his gaze had already drifted far away, as if he could already see the scene of the wedding and the expression of shock, panic, and perhaps... a hint of hidden emotion on Matsumoto Sayuri's face when she saw him.
"Yes, I really should let him have a good look." Kanjuro muttered to himself, then turned to Tomoko Suzuki, his tone returning to its usual composure and sense of command. "Tomoko, go check the specific time, location, and the identity of the groom. Prepare a suitable 'congratulatory gift' for me."
"Yes, Lord Kanjuro, I will handle it immediately." Tomoko Suzuki complied respectfully without the slightest hesitation.
Kanjuro nodded with satisfaction and leaned back against the sofa again, closing his eyes. His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, as if he had already begun to arrange a "Wedding March" in his mind that belonged to him.
Matsumoto Sayuri's wedding was destined not to be peaceful. And Kanjuro's intervention would lead this ceremony, which was supposed to be full of happiness, toward an ending that no one could predict. The hunting instinct awakened in Kanjuro's heart once more, and this time the prey was a part of the past he had personally "marked" years ago, a part that had never truly concluded.
A few days later, in a high-end custom wedding dress shop in Tokyo.
Matsumoto Sayuri stood alone in front of a large fitting mirror, wearing a pure white tube-top wedding dress adorned with fine crystals. The dress was beautiful, outlining her still-slender figure. In the mirror, she was as gentle and beautiful as ever, but her brows were clouded with a faint, lingering sorrow.
She couldn't say she disliked her fiancé, Takasugi Toshihiko, but she certainly didn't feel the burning heartbeat she had in her youth. It was more out of her father's (Inspector Matsumoto) satisfaction and a compromise with reality—at this age, meeting a man with a comparable family background, a gentle personality, and her father's approval seemed like the best choice. It was just that... in a corner of her heart, she always felt empty, as if she had lost something extremely important.
She sighed softly and was about to ask the shop assistant to help adjust her veil when her peripheral vision caught a figure on the sofa in the lounge area.
It was a young man dressed casually yet with an undeniable air of nobility. He looked to be only eighteen or nineteen, and was handsome to the point of being unreal. He leaned lazily on the sofa, casually flipping through a wedding magazine, a faint, somewhat wicked smile playing on his lips.
The moment Matsumoto Sayuri's gaze touched that smile—
Her heart felt as if it were suddenly seized by an invisible hand, and her breathing came to an abrupt halt!
That smile... although his face was different from the handsome sixth-grade boy in her memory, having lost its greenness and become more profound and defined, that unique, bad-boy curve that seemed to see through people's hearts while carrying a hint of cynicism... was exactly the same!
It was him!
It was Kanjuro!
The man who, when her heart first began to stir with love, burst into her life in such a dramatic and calculated way, making her love him purely and intensely, only to leave a deep mark on the night of their parting before vanishing without a trace like he had evaporated from the face of the earth!
Time seemed to flow backward at this moment. Buried memories rushed in like a flood from a broken dam—the peace and heartbeat when she was "saved" by him, the persistence of meeting him despite her father's opposition, the lingering affection mixed with sadness and sweetness on the night before parting... Matsumoto Sayuri froze in place, the corner of the veil she was holding slipping quietly from her hand. Her eyes widened, and she looked in that direction in disbelief. Her face turned pale instantly, and her lips trembled slightly, but she couldn't make a sound.
How... could he be here?
How could he... not have aged at all? (No, he was even more dazzling than the boy in her memory.)
Is he... here for her?
Countless questions and a massive shock hit her, making her almost unable to stand steady.
As if sensing her burning and chaotic gaze, Kanjuro on the sofa slowly raised his head. His gaze accurately captured her, standing frozen in front of the fitting mirror, wearing a sacred wedding dress.
There was no surprise, no accident, as if everything was within his expectations.
Kanjuro closed the magazine, set it aside, and then stood up, walking toward her unhurriedly. His steps were composed, and the bad-boy smile on his face deepened slightly. His gaze felt like a physical touch as it moved from top to bottom, carefully and unabashedly sizing up the wedding dress she was wearing, eventually settling on her pale and shocked face.
He walked up to her, getting so close that they could almost feel each other's breath.
"Sayuri," he spoke, his voice deep and magnetic, carrying a familiarity of a long-awaited reunion yet containing an undeniable power of control, "long time no see."
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the wedding dress on her. The curve of his mouth carried a hint of playfulness as he commented softly:
"The wedding dress is very beautiful. However..."
He deliberately dragged out his words, his deep eyes locking onto her panicked gaze, as if he wanted to look straight into the depths of her soul.
"Wearing it to marry a man you don't love, don't you think... you're being too unfair to yourself, my Sayuri?"
These words were like a precise key, instantly opening the floodgates of emotion that Matsumoto Sayuri had been trying hard to suppress. Unfair? It was more than just unfair! It was a sense of powerlessness against fate, a longing for the past, and an... uncontrollable heartbeat for this man who had suddenly appeared, tempting like a devil.
She looked at Kanjuro, who was within arm's reach, seeing the familiar yet strange light in his eyes. Tears welled up in her eyes without warning. Over a decade of time didn't seem to have erased that complex emotion rooted deep in her heart; instead, at the moment of seeing him, it became vivid and intense once again.
Kanjuro looked at her reaction and smiled with satisfaction. He knew the prey... was still in the net. This wedding, it seemed, would be even more "interesting" than he had anticipated.
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