CHAPTER 13 #2
Teruo understood the feeling all too well. He’d swallowed his worries many times. “I guess we both have this fixation, don’t we? I don’t want to burden you, you don’t want to burden me, but we end up frustrated because we’re both struggling under the weight of our collective burdens.”
“That’s true…”
As he stopped at the traffic lights, Teruo reached and gently cradled Shinji’s cheek in his palm.
“I’m your lover, your partner. I’m here for you no matter what.
When you think of us—of me—I want you to feel safe.
I want you to know, without a shadow of doubt, that you can share anything with me. I’ll listen and I’ll help if I can.”
Shinji’s gaze lingered on him for a bit before staring ahead at the road, his eyes wide and scared of whatever was inside his mind. He rubbed his palms on his knees before speaking, “The extraction made me think of my ex.”
Ueda Atsuji, Teruo thought. Even in death that man haunted Shinji.
“I did not go to his extraction,” Shinji said.
“I could have because I was informed of it, but I didn’t want to go.
” He stopped and ran his fingers through his hair, holding the strands in a tight fist. “I lacked the nerve to see him because I was afraid that I would feel… joy. I was afraid I would enjoy it.”
Teruo’s heart sank at the words. Shinji was scared he’d feel happy to see his abuser die. That thought must’ve tormented him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Teruo asked as he stepped on the gas.
“Because I’m trying to forget. I take these thoughts and pack them deep inside a box at the back of my head. Just bury them there. It’s better this way.”
“It’s not. Addressing these thoughts is—”
“No.” Shinji turned to him with a haunted look in his eyes. “Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because I am my father’s son. Because I might be a supernatural like my mother, but what if…
what if, in reality, I’m nothing like her?
What if I’m like him? My father… he drew joy from seeing me suffer.
His own child whom he was supposed to love.
And I would’ve drawn joy from seeing my ex suffer, a man I was supposed to have been in love with at some point. ”
Teruo shook his head. “That is not the same thing, Shinji. You may be your father’s son, but you’re nothing like him.”
“Sometimes I feel like I am. I try to hide behind a cheerful mask, but underneath it, there’s a prison of my own making and I’m trapped inside with him.”
“Shinji, your father’s love for you isn’t the same as your feelings for Ueda.
The love of a parent should be unconditional.
It would’ve been excusable if he felt overwhelmed at times—raising a child isn’t easy—but tormenting you was unforgivable.
An intimate relationship between two adults is different.
Ueda wasn’t a child you created and had a responsibility to nurture and raise.
He was a grown man who abused you. He deserved no love. ”
Shinji’s fingers dug hard into his thigh and Teruo took one hand off the steering wheel, intertwining it with Shinji’s. He held tight skimming his thumb in soothing circles.
“You are not a sadistic man, Shinji. Feeling joy that your abuser is no longer alive doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.
Plenty of people in your situation let out a breath of relief at the thought that their tormentors aren’t around anymore.
Allow yourself that breath of relief. You deserve it. ”
Shinji didn’t speak, didn’t look at him, only held Teruo’s hand in a strong grip.
“And I know,” Teruo continued, “that your father negatively marked more than half of your life, but his actions don’t define you.”
“I…” Shinji inhaled. “I understand. I do… but my mind…I just…”
“I know,” Teruo said. “But I’ll always be here to remind you what a wonderful man you are.”
Shinji turned to him and smiled, his eyes watery. “Thank you.”
Teruo wished they were home where he could give Shinji a hug and make sure he was okay, but in front of them stretched a line of police cars and forensic techs.
It was an incredibly narrow street and the apartment of the victims seemed to be on the first floor of a four stories apartment block.
The uniformed officers struggled with the early commuters and the rest of the neighbors that woke up because of the commotion.
Outside, one of the officers Shinji sent for a wellness check spoke with a middle-aged man who might’ve been a neighbor based on his casual clothes.
“You said this isn’t one of those supernatural-only areas?” Teruo asked.
“Yes. Those are right in the vicinity of the Onmyōryō’s HQ. I can sense plenty of supernaturals here, but most aren’t. That man isn’t.” Shinji pointed toward the neighbor.
“All right. Let’s see what we have.” Teruo left the car and Shinji followed him. When he reached the witness, the officer introduced him and Shinji.
“Tell them what you told me,” the officer encouraged.
“Ms. Amano,” the man started. “She keeps to herself. We don’t know where she works.
She comes and leaves at odd hours. Lately she hasn’t been home, so I assumed she might be on a business trip or vacation.
But yesterday evening this officer knocked on her door.
I told him the same.” The man’s shoulders drooped, looking defeated. “I didn’t think she’d be dead…”
“It’s all right,” Teruo said. “Please continue.”
“But when I told my wife about my talk with the officer, she got angry. She said she smelled something gross outside on the balcony, coming from Ms. Amano’s apartment.
I thought it’s just nasty food left out, but my wife was worried.
” He turned to stare at the building, then shuddered.
“We argued about it until late at night and I checked for that smell. It reeked. I told her, I’ll just go over the balcony, see if there was any trash. ”
“Balcony?” Shinji repeated.
The man flushed, looking abashed. “Yeah. There’s only a thin wall between us and the rails made it easier, so I climbed over.
” He stopped and wiped the sweat on his forehead with the back of his palm.
“The balcony door was ajar. The smell was horrid, so I pushed it open. Ms. Amano she was… I didn’t go in, I just saw her, and I called the officers back. ”
“Do you know if Ms. Amano has any enemies? Anyone came around, trying to stir up trouble?”
The neighbor shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. I don’t know what she does when she’s not home, but there was never any trouble with her. Very silent and polite. It’s why I checked. The officers knocking on her door and my wife talking about the smell made me suspect something was wrong.”
“Thank you.” Teruo bowed and waited until the man left, then turned to the officer. “We were told there are two victims? The witness only mentioned one.”
“Yes, the second victim is in a different apartment block, a few streets away. We have another team there for investigation. We had checked on her, but she didn’t answer.
When we were called back here again, we sent a team to her and forcefully opened the door.
It seems to be your killer’s M.O. because she was poisoned unlike Ms. Amano. ”
“What do you mean unlike Ms. Amano?” Shinji asked.
The officer looked between them. “She was brutalized.”
Brutalized was a peculiar way to describe it. The previous victims had signs of a fight, but not of a brutal one. Teruo figured that the killer used their reiryoku to hit the victim and the officer probably perceived it as brutal—which was an accurate description.
“Has the M.E. arrived to asses?” Teruo asked.
“She’s upstairs.”
“Thanks. Well, let’s go and see for ourselves.” Teruo leaned toward Shinji as they walked inside the apartment block. “Can you sense anything if it’s been too long?”
“I don’t think so. The spiritual energy disperses with time, but the green coloring remains for longer. And the appearance too: blown veins, nosebleed.”
“Okay,” Teruo said. “Because the officer’s description didn’t quite match my expectations.”
“Yeah, I found it a little odd too.”
Nakagawa was outside in the apartment block’s corridor, speaking with a tech and she rushed to Teruo when she saw him. She had a mask on her face.
“Good morning, chief. Sergeant.” Nakagawa bowed. “There’s something you need to know.”
“I already don’t like the sound of that…” Teruo said.
“Commissioner Horiuchi is here.”
A vein popped at Teruo’s temple. “What’s she doing here?”
“Monitoring the situation. Her words,” Nakagawa whispered.
“Can’t she monitor it from the comfort of the office’s chair?” Teruo groaned. “Whatever. Nakagawa, who’s at the second crime scene?”
“Inspector Furuya and Superintendent Yoshida.”
“The superintendent? Why’s everybody on my ass today?” He knew the answer to that: six victims, if not more was the reason everybody was on his ass. But that didn’t mean he liked it.
He exchanged a look with Shinji who seemed just as annoyed as he was and they put on foot covers before entering the apartment. The smell hit them immediately and they both covered their noses. It was a thick and putrid stench that seeped into the walls and furniture.
Teruo stopped a forensic tech in the hallway and grabbed two masks, giving one to Shinji. To their left was a kitchen, and to the right a closed door. The crime scene was in the living room and Teruo walked ahead. Even through the masks the smell was turning his stomach upside down.
“Oh my god,” Shinji whispered as they reached the living room.
Blood painted the walls in thin lines. More pooled on the floor close to the doorway. The woman lay crumpled in the middle of the room, her clothes sliced in places, another pool of blood underneath her head, and red trails going down her ears, eyes and mouth.