After finishing up at the Arai residence, I didn't waste any time. The next stop was the Ishigami house — Yuto's home.
The closer I got, the quieter the neighborhood became. Even the wind seemed to move cautiously here.
When I reached the front step, I could already feel it — a heaviness in the air, like the house itself was mourning.
I knocked twice.
Knock. Knock.
After a few seconds, the door opened, revealing a man with graying hair and deep lines around his eyes. His expression was wary, as if bracing himself for whatever I might say.
"Good afternoon, sir," I greeted him with a small nod.
"You are…?" His voice was hoarse, like it hadn't been used much lately.
"Detective Reina," I said, showing my badge. "May I come in?"
He stepped aside without another word, and I entered.
The living room was simple, almost too neat — the kind of neatness that comes from not wanting to touch anything. Family photos lined the wall: Yuto as a little boy grinning with missing teeth, Yuto in his middle school uniform, Yuto holding a soccer ball under one arm. I noticed the absence of recent pictures.
"Where is everyone?" I asked.
"My wife…" His voice caught for a moment. "She's staying with her mother. After Yuto… passed, she couldn't bear to be here. She'll come back when she's ready. If she's ever ready."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said quietly.
He gave a tired shrug. "It's alright. I knew my son. He wasn't perfect — not the brightest, not the most disciplined. He… kept bad company. And I…" He shook his head, a hollow laugh escaping. "I didn't stop him. I guess I failed as a father."
"Please, sir," I said, meeting his eyes. "Don't carry all of that weight alone."
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he exhaled and looked at me steadily.
"You came here for answers, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Then ask your questions, Detective. I'll tell you what I can."
I pulled out my small notepad, though I haven't started writing yet.
"First… Did Yuto have any enemies? Anyone who might've had a serious problem with him?" I asked.
His brow furrowed. "Enemies? No… not exactly. He wasn't the kind of boy people hated. But…" He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "He did get into fights. Little ones, here and there. With classmates, with other kids in the neighborhood."
"Fights about what?" I pressed gently.
"Stupid things. Money, rumors, pride — you know how teenagers are. But… There was one boy who argued with him more than once. I think his name was Takuya. Takuya Maeno."
The name sent a quiet ripple through my thoughts. I didn't react outwardly, but I scribbled it down.
"Did you ever see them fight?"
"No, but Yuto came home once with a split lip. Said it was 'nothing.' He never told me more. And I…" He trailed off, shaking his head again. "I should have asked. I didn't."
I glanced up. "And who is Takuya Maeno?"
"He's from the same school — Noma High School. They fought. Not the usual teenage shouting match — it was serious. Yuto came home with a bruise under his eye that night."
"What was the fight about?" I asked.
"That," he said, rubbing his temple, "I could never figure it out. They didn't talk about it in front of me. But…" He hesitated, his voice dropping lower. "…I overheard them once, not fighting but… talking. Whispering, really. Something about a specific person. I don't know who. But whatever it was, they were planning something — like they had a goal. It didn't sound good."
"Do you remember anything they said about this person?"
He shook his head slowly. "Only that they didn't want anyone else to know."
I made a note of that, underlining it twice. A hidden fight, a secret plan, and an unnamed third person. My gut told me that thread, if I could pull it, would unravel a lot more than I expected.
I tapped my pen against the page. "Was Yuto… depressed lately? Or worried about something?"
Mr. Ishigami leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the table. "Worried… yes. I noticed it. He was quieter, distracted. Like his mind was somewhere else all the time."
"Do you know what was on his mind?"
He shook his head slowly. "No. But I'll tell you this — after the death of Kenta Arai, it got worse. Much worse. He wasn't just worried anymore… he was scared. I'd catch him glancing over his shoulder, jumping at noises. As if someone was watching him."
The words "after Arai Kenta's death" landed heavily in my mind. That was no coincidence.
I closed my notebook and gave him a small nod. "Thank you, Mr. Ishigami. I appreciate you answering my questions."
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "If it helps you find out what happened to my boy… I'll answer anything."
"One last thing for now," I said, straightening. "May I take a look at Yuto's room?"
He hesitated for a moment, then gave a faint nod. "Yes… of course. It's upstairs, the second door on the right. I haven't touched a thing since… well, since then."
The way his voice cracked on those last words told me enough — whatever I found up there, it was going to feel like stepping into a frozen moment in time.
I made my way up the narrow staircase, my steps echoing faintly in the quiet house. Mr. Ishigami followed behind but stopped at the landing, letting me go ahead.
Yuto's room door stood slightly ajar. I pushed it open slowly.
It smelled faintly of dust, mixed with something faintly metallic. The blinds were half-closed, leaving thin lines of light across the floor. The bed was neatly made, though the pillow bore a faint crease like someone had been lying there not too long before everything happened.
I started with the desk. A scattering of notebooks, a pen that had run dry, and a cracked phone charger. No obvious signs of anything unusual — just the clutter of a student.
Next, the bed. I crouched, checking underneath. A lone sneaker and a half-empty water bottle rolled into the corner. Nothing useful.
Then I turned to the almirah. The hinges gave a faint creak as I opened it. Inside, clothes hung neatly — school uniforms, casual T-shirts, a winter coat. But at the bottom shelf, partially tucked beneath a folded sweater, something caught my eye.
A small, crumpled piece of white cloth.
I pulled it out carefully. My stomach tightened. A dark brownish-red stain was smeared across it — dried blood.
It wasn't from a shirt sleeve or a pants leg. It looked like part of a blouse… possibly from a schoolgirl's uniform.
I slipped it into an evidence bag, my mind racing. Whose blood was this? And why was Yuto hiding it here?
Standing, I took one last look at the room before stepping out.
Mr. Ishigami was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
"Thank you for letting me look around," I said, holding the evidence bag out of sight.
Just as I reached the door, he stopped me with a quiet, almost pleading voice. "Detective… if my son… if Yuto was involved in anything criminal… please, I beg you… Don't tell my wife. She… she wouldn't survive hearing that. I've already lost my son. I can't lose her, too."
I nodded slightly. "I understand."
Then, as I was about to step outside, I turned back. "One more thing, Mr. Ishigami… Do you know anything about a complaint an unknown girl filed against both Yuto and Arai?"
He frowned, shaking his head slowly. "No… I've never heard of that. But… if it's true, maybe it has something to do with the reason Yuto and that boy were always… whispering about someone. I never found out who."
With that, I thanked him and stepped out into the cool afternoon air, the evidence bag secure in my pocket. Keiji was already waiting in the car.
I slid into the passenger seat, shutting the car door a little harder than necessary. Keiji glanced at me in the rearview mirror but didn't ask yet.
We drove in silence back to TSID headquarters.
Inside, I headed straight for evidence processing, handing over two sealed bags — one with the anti-anxiety pills from Arai's house, the other with the bloodstained cloth from Yuto's room.
"Both need priority analysis," I told the lab tech. "Cross-check the blood against our database."
With that done, I made my way to my office. The chair creaked as I sat, letting out a slow breath.
Keiji stepped in a few minutes later, holding two cups of coffee. "So," he said, setting one down, "you've got pills and a bloody cloth. Sounds like a fun day."
"I'm waiting for forensics to call," I replied, sipping my coffee. "Depending on the results, I might have to go down there myself. There's more to these two deaths than we're seeing."
Keiji leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "What about that unknown girl you mentioned? The one tied to both Arai and Yuto?"
"That's what's bothering me," I said. "If she was alive, we might finally get a motive. But so far… nothing. Just whispers."
Before Keiji could respond, my desk phone rang.
I picked it up. "Detective Reina speaking."
A man's voice came through, tense and hurried. "This is the principal of Noma High School. I… I have to inform you — Takuya Maeno, one of our students, is dead. He… fell from the rooftop during lunch break. Some students say they saw a boy nearby… wearing a cowboy hat."
I froze, the words sinking in. Takuya Maeno — the very student I'd planned to question next.
I stood abruptly, motioning to Keiji. "We're going to Noma High School. Now."
Keiji grabbed his coat. "On it."
As we hurried out, my thoughts churned. The case had just shifted again — and the boy in the cowboy hat… felt far too familiar.