Chapter 66
[Sister, I’m home safely! Mom is very grateful to you and insists on coming to thank you in person, but you said you do good deeds without leaving a name and forbid me from publicizing your kindness, so I drew a picture for you!]
[This painting contains all my artistic skills and sister’s glorious image. I would be very happy if you could hang it in your home! —Yoshijima Echiri]
What a good child. She had been kidnapped and was still writing thank-you letters to her kidnapper, not only writing a letter but also giving a painting. She would definitely have a bright future.
Fan An finished reading the letter with emotion and unwrapped the picture frame that had been sent with it.
She admired it for a moment, then, as was her custom, found a nail and a hammer and, with a bang, bang, bang, hung the painting on the wall directly opposite the front door.
“I’m back.” Hiromitsu, who had gone out to buy groceries, opened the door.
A wall of colorful blackness crashed into his eyes.
A large area of black swirling lines was dizzying, as if the screaming man was writhing and twisting on the wall. The tentacles of a deep-sea Cthulhu were flying horizontally. A special-grade vengeful cursed spirit was roaring its unwillingness. A spiritual pollution rushed to meet him.
Hiromitsu: “…What is this? A cult’s holy icon?”
Fan An: “No, it’s my portrait.”
She stood in front of the portrait with her hands behind her back, her eyes full of admiration. “Don’t you think it’s very artistic?”
“I heard from Echiri that her mother is a famous Fauvist painter, and she herself has preferred abstract art since she was a child. So Echiri learned half of each school, and her skills are fifty-fifty. This painting is a masterpiece that combines the two schools, her highest level so far.”
Not only was the artistic skill superb, but the painter had also invested a lot of personal emotion, vividly depicting her understanding of the suspect and kidnapper, Miss An.
“I’m considering changing my avatar to it,” Fan An mused. “I feel like it would help my career.”
Hiromitsu: Yes… horror movies in the cinema will see an unprecedented boom.
“Did An’an hang it opposite the front door to randomly scare any thieves who come to the house to death?” Mentor Scotch commented. “First-class anti-theft.”
Even an undercover Public Security officer couldn’t quite take it. The apartment felt gloomy, as if something extra had been added.
Vodka had really been lucky. If he were to break into Fan An’s apartment now, what would greet him would be more than just a bruised face and a suitcase.
…
“Today’s news: Senior Superintendent Yoshijima of the Metropolitan Police Department is no longer able to perform his duties as a Senior Superintendent due to personal reasons and has been transferred. His original position will be taken over by a newly appointed Senior Superintendent…”
Fan An, who was admiring the portrait, was attracted by the news broadcast and walked to the TV.
“The speed of settling scores is so fast,” she said, rubbing her chin. “I thought it would take a long process.”
Hiromitsu nodded silently. This is the speed of Public Security and the efficiency of an undercover agent who works 22.5 hours a day.
The pen of the neighbor next door was probably emitting sparks as he wrote his report.
An’an’s home had dumplings for lunch again today.
The difference was, this time, she could dip them in vinegar.
An’an often found it difficult to see through Mentor Scotch’s heart. He was really hard to understand, with a kind of melancholy air of “everyone is drunk but I am sober.”
“Can An’an help me pack my luggage this afternoon?” Hiromitsu asked, putting some vegetables in the girl’s bowl. “I have to move back to the distillery’s employee dorms.”
“Eh? Is Hiro moving back?” An’an bit the tip of her chopsticks. “Does the distillery also have room checks? Do you get points deducted for not returning at night?” So strict?
The threat of point deductions couldn’t scare Mentor Scotch. He wasn’t competing for the “Employee of the Year” award.
But the famous workhorse of the Black Organization, Gin, who had been named “Employee of the Year” for thirty consecutive years, was about to face an epic interrogation of his loyalty. Hiromitsu had to go and join in the fun, no matter what.
He used a phrasing that An’an would most easily understand. “Your Silver-Haired Model Bro is in trouble. Twisted Deep-Closet Bro is overjoyed. He wants me to return quickly.”
An’an replied instantly, “I’ll go and pack your luggage for you right now.”
Hiromitsu was only staying temporarily and hadn’t brought much luggage. As An’an squatted by the suitcase, wondering if she should pack some Beika specialties for him, she watched Mentor Scotch unlock the balcony door.
Hiromitsu: Zero, this is the last thing I can do for you.
The girl’s beloved robber’s mask had been left at her ex-boyfriend’s house and had never been retrieved. She had repeatedly wanted to climb over the balcony to rob him but had been blocked by the balcony lock. Now that the obstacle was removed, she could walk right into the trap.
Mentor Scotch had worried himself sick over the little couple. He removed the balcony lock and politely stopped An’an’s enthusiastic act of stuffing luminol (family-sized value pack, large and satisfying), a guide to popular body-dumping spots in Beika, Beika’s finest knives: Chop Your Whole Family Three-Piece Set, and Suspect An’s highly recommended boning knife-specific whetstone into his suitcase.
Such good things. An’an should just keep them for herself. There was really no need to be so polite with him.
Hiromitsu, holding his suitcase, said goodbye to the reluctant girl at the apartment door.
The weather was still very cold. The wind blew straight into the open door. Hiromitsu coaxed her not to see him off and helped the girl close the door.
The moment he turned around, the door next door opened.
Furuya Rei dangled his car keys. “Want a ride?”
Hiromitsu had no need to be polite with his friend. He laughed and cursed, “Don’t look so eager.”
It couldn’t be helped that Mentor Scotch was being envied. A certain someone hadn’t even been allowed into the house during their relationship, yet the girl had specially reserved a guest room for her respected mentor.
“How could that be? I appreciate your kindness, Hiro,” the blond young man said seriously. “The guest room at home will always be reserved for you in the future.”
Hiromitsu: You haven’t even gotten back together and you’re already thinking about living together? As expected of you.
As their mutual friend, he had done all he could. The rest was up to Zero himself.
…
After Mentor Scotch moved out, An’an was alone in the apartment again.
She planned to read her new script, heat up the leftovers from lunch for dinner, and then take a shower and go to bed early.
The first few items on her schedule went very smoothly. The girl took a hot shower, the scalding water steaming her whole body and turning her cheeks pink.
“An ice-cold orange soda after a hot shower. Happier than a god~”
Since there was no one home, An’an only wrapped herself in a bath towel and sipped from the soda can.
Knock, knock, knock.
A sudden knock came at the apartment door. She tilted her head and glanced at the time.
The apartment manager was already off duty at this hour. And it was a Beika Town night. Who would be looking for her?
The dark-haired girl put down the soda can and walked to the door, pressing her eye to the peephole.
She took a closer look.
An’an took two steps back, picked up the ice-cold orange soda from the entryway cabinet, and calmly drank it all in one go.
In the bone-chilling clarity, she stepped forward a second time and took another, closer look.
“Alright, it’s confirmed. The peephole is broken,” the girl said calmly. “I’ll go find the manager for repairs tomorrow.”
Perhaps seeing that there was no movement from inside for a long time, the young man’s voice could be heard from outside, muttering to himself, “Is she not home… Achoo!”
The tail end of winter was still cold, especially at night. It was far from the season for wearing single layers.
Through the peephole, the blond young man’s hair was wet, and his clothes were thin. He would probably catch a cold if he stood in the hallway any longer.
“I’m not soft-hearted,” An’an told herself. “I’m just curious about his intentions. And as an enthusiastic citizen of Beika Town, I just can’t bear to see my neighbor freeze into an ice sculpture in the hallway.”
She pressed down on the doorknob and cautiously poked her head out. “What is it?”
Like a kitten peeking out, Furuya Rei thought. So cute.
“Excuse me,” he said, his voice troubled. “My water heater suddenly broke. I was halfway through a shower when it turned to cold water.”
Icy drops of water clung to his blond hair, trickling down Furuya Rei’s handsome face. His thin shirt was soaked, revealing his collarbones.
He looked cold, yet so hot.
An’an had just finished her shower. Her water heater was one hundred percent fine. Her neighbor was in distress. Should she offer a helping hand?
“…Just to borrow the bathroom? You’ll leave right after?” the girl asked hesitantly.
The blond young man nodded obediently. He held up a dessert box in his hands. Sweet, soft flower cakes were wrapped in glutinous rice paper.
An’an was easily bribed. The door opened wide for Furuya Rei.
He: “…”
Opening the door wrapped in only a bath towel. Was An’an testing him?
The girl belatedly followed Furuya’s gaze down and fell silent.
Should she scream and run back to her room, wrap herself in a blanket, and blush until she could fry an egg on her face?
But what hadn’t he seen?
As long as An’an wasn’t embarrassed, the one who would be embarrassed was her ex-boyfriend. She calmly stepped aside and gestured for Furuya to come in.
The girl had just finished her shower. The steam in the bathroom hadn’t completely dissipated. The mirror was foggy, and the scent of white peach filled the bathroom.
“Remember to adjust the water temperature,” An’an said. “Don’t get scalded again.”
She especially liked to take scalding hot showers in the winter. After washing, her whole body would be warm.
Furuya had had the honor of experiencing An’an’s shower water temperature. It was practically molten iron.
The day she had stayed over, the girl had gone into the bathroom first. She had been perfectly comfortable under the stream of water. The result of Furuya letting his guard down was a patch of red, scalded skin on his shoulder.
He had indeed heard that due to differences in height and body perception, men and women had different tolerances for shower water temperature, but this was his first time experiencing it.
But it wasn’t bad, because after the girl had seen his scald, she had come over with a look of pity and helped him blow on it, her fingers gently stroking the red skin.
An ex-boyfriend didn’t get the “blow on it” treatment, so An’an reminded him to remember to adjust the water temperature.
She was only reminding him because he had specially brought a dessert and hadn’t come empty-handed. It wasn’t because she was worried about him getting scalded. It wasn’t.
“Thank you, An’an. I’ll be careful,” Furuya said in a gentle voice.
The girl said nothing more and walked away with the dessert.
The sound of water soon came from the bathroom. An’an was curled up on the sofa, the dessert box on her lap. She picked up a flower cake.
A faint scent of plum blossoms lingered in the flower cake. She remembered the promise they had made to see the plum blossoms together.
A coincidence, An’an mused. Besides, she had already gone to see the plum blossoms with Hiro. She had no regrets.
Her ex-boyfriend probably didn’t know about this, right? He couldn’t possibly have deliberately made plum-flavored flower cakes out of a subtle jealousy.
“I must be overthinking it,” An’an shook her head.
But the flower cakes were really delicious. She had thought she would never be able to eat his desserts again after they broke up.
“An’an.”
The sound of water in the bathroom stopped. The blond young man’s muffled call came from behind the door.
“What’s wrong?” she answered. “Did my water heater break too?”
What brand was so unreliable? A serious red flag.
“It’s not the water heater,” Furuya said, as if he were very helpless. “I can’t find a bath towel.”
An’an: “…”
Isn’t that a matter of course? Why didn’t you bring your own bath towel when you came to borrow the bathroom?
—It seemed she hadn’t brought her own bath towel when she had stayed over before.
—The situations are different! They can’t be compared!
Furuya seemed to have heard the girl’s complaints.
A moment later, the bathroom door was pulled open a crack. A hand reached in, holding a bath towel.
“This is the only one,” she said hurriedly. “Take it or leave it.”
Forgetting to bring a bath towel was not Furuya’s original intention. He had really forgotten.
He had only remembered to break the water heater to create an excuse to get in, and had spent more of his thoughts on how to make his ex-girlfriend’s heart soften at the sight of him through the peephole. His preparations had not been thorough enough.
Furuya had thought that An’an would rummage through her closets to find a spare bath towel for him, but very unfortunately, the spare bath towel in her home had been taken by her respected Mentor Scotch when he had packed his luggage and had not yet been restocked.
There was only one bath towel left in An’an’s home, the one she had wrapped around herself after her shower today.
Warmed by the girl’s body temperature and fragrant, it was practically scalding in Furuya’s hands.
…It felt a bit like he had shot himself in the foot.
The blond Public Security officer seriously reviewed the process of tonight’s events and couldn’t help but wonder:
Who on earth was seducing whom?