The station clock blinked at 11:47 pm, again.
The night of Tokyo's late-summer heat fell cold.
People, despite the hour, were still moving about. Most likely to return home, go to work, or enter probably the most dangerous place around.
A vending machine's hum muffled out the footsteps and chatter as the clank of the cans fell down the shoot. A gloved hand picked the cans up—soda—flicking one open while tucking the other in the pocket of her coat.
The PA dinged as a chill loomed from the passage in front of her.
The train from Shibuya will be arriving shortly on Track 2. Please be careful of the closing doors.
That must be him. She thought, throwing the can into a nearby bin as she stepped by the yellow line.
A faint breeze slipped out from the tunnel, carrying with it the sound of rails—then the lights appeared, flooding the platform in motion.
The soft whoosh from the opening doors met her ears as he stepped out of the cart.
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"Good evening." Suzune greeted, reaching into her coat pocket. "I've been to Shinjuku Station a few times, but it's quite surprising to see how busy it is near midnight."
When she offered a can of cola, I took it from her hand as we made our way through the terminal's halls.
It was a lot noisier compared to what I've heard about; there were lights upon lights, signs upon signs, and several maps regarding the station itself.
The yellow tactile lines cut through the grey station floor, glowing faintly as I looked around.
We got through the ticket gates when Suzune spoke up.
"Where do you want to go?" She said.
"I thought you already had that planned."
She stretched her arms. "I know we're going to Kabukicho, but this is Shinjuku. I figured I should tour you around," she took her wallet out and held it between her fingers, "hungry?"
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Suzune had led us to a nearby yakiniku place. It was clear that she was a regular here, considering all that had happened.
The door made a small chime as we both entered the restaurant; everyone's eyes turned to us—explainable, Suzune is a well-known model, and her mother is Sora Amamiya.
As we found our table, I took the chance to look around the place.
It was quite modest, the lighting was slightly dim, and the walls were a shade of cream with brownish frames going through them.
Our table was situated at the corner with a grill on the table and mats surrounding it, all with a traditional design.
We sat across from each other as the staff moved towards our table.
"Suzune! You look stunning tonight!" The waitress said as she stopped by our table.
She took a glance at me as Suzune replied.
"Mhm, I decided to let my hair loose for the night—quite refreshing, honestly." She waved a hand. "And, by the way, do you still serve the you know what?"
The waitress bent down as she whispered to Suzune. "Oh~ You're going on the attack, huh? I can see where you're getting at—you have a cute guy for a first date." She winked.
Suzune smiled as the waitress left.
I smiled as well, lowering my voice.
"You set this up, didn't you?" I said, holding my grin.
She locked eyes with me before shifting her hair.
"Did I? How could you ever accuse me?"
"I can't be bothered to argue about this." I leaned my face into my hand. "Just tell me what the purpose of making everyone believe we're a thing is."
She smirked as she stood up, walking around our table before sitting back down next to me.
I noticed the stares behind us as her eyes seemed to gleam.
"Public perception. The more people believe we're together, the less they'll think that we're suspicious." She leaned her face closer to mine before nodding to her side and whispering. "Look."
While turning my gaze, I spotted a few people staring at us. At first, it was just another couple, but upon closer inspection, there they were.
This yakiniku restaurant was just outside of Kabukicho.
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This was 12 hours ago, when it was still just a theory.
I believe we were on the school rooftop, and Suzune had just obtained permission for us from our teacher.
Suzune opened the file. "Miyu Tachibana was spotted exiting Shinjuku Station at around 12:00 am two days before her suicide. Eyewitnesses have confirmed this."
I nodded, shifting as she pointed towards a couple of CCTV photos. They were slightly blurry and monochrome, but there was an image of a woman with a small handbag leaning on the station walls.
"The police ruled her death a suicide, as shown by the bloody knife in the hand of her corpse," I said, flipping through another file before pointing towards the photo.
I continued, "But if what you're saying is true, something must have happened during that two-day period between her arrival at Shinjuku and her suicide."
Suzune nodded, turning her head to check our surroundings before taking out another file from her bag.
The breeze intensified as she opened the said file, flipping through the documents until she arrived at a specific picture before showing it to me."
"Other CCTV footage shows a woman with the same profile entering Kabukicho nine minutes later." She took the photo between her fingers before offering it to me.
She continued. "My hypothesis is that this woman is Miyu Tachibana, and that the something that you mentioned could be traced back to Kabukicho."
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Suzune broke the silence.
"Do you understand now, Miyato?"
I looked her in the eye before nodding as the waitress came back with our food.
I haven't been to places like these, so everything felt quite unfamiliar. Usually, I hung out in Elise's office even when I was a kid to help with the agency; I didn't have the luxury to spend my time with other people besides family.
"Suzune, here's your order." The waitress laid the plate down. "Make sure to warn your boyfriend~"
Suzune snickered as she waved. "I will!"
The plate was a rectangular, sleek black platter with thinly sliced beef tongues, around eight to ten, arranged in a circular pattern. There were a few side dishes laid out, but the dipping tray was what caught my eye as Suzune took the tongs.
"Suzune," I said.
"Hm?"
"What's in that tray?"
A wide grin formed on her face.
"There's the miso paste." She pointed with the tongs as she grabbed a slice. "Then there's the ghost pepper chili oil."
The moment those words came out of her mouth, I immediately backed off.
"What—are you planning to burn us alive?!"
"Relax," Suzune slicked every single slice of the beef with the chili oil, "I've been doing this before I could spell 'capsaicin', you're in good hands."
As the slice met the grill, the smell of chili oil, garlic, miso, and smoke made my nose burn up. I covered it instantly before leaning my head on the table.
All I could hear was faint noises of laughter—probably from Suzune, as the sizzling of the beef continued flowing into my ears.
The smell was—largely—no longer a problem, but if I ever tried turning my head up, my nose would catch on fire.
"Miyato~"
"What?" I said, voice muffled.
I couldn't see anything, but I felt this strange sensation that she was grinning as the sound of sizzling slowly died out.
"Open wide~"
Shit.
"No."
Suzune leaned closer to me, and I could feel her hair on my back as she whispered—her tone going cold as the sound of metal clanked on our table.
A couple of tables over, someone giggled. I couldn't tell if it was because of us or because Suzune knew exactly what she was doing.
"They're watching. You have to play your part."
I whispered back. "Fine, but you're going to owe me for this."
A pause. I could almost hear her smile.
"Then I'll owe you, now get up."
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The smell of grilled meat still lingered on my clothes as we stepped out into the night air. Neon shimmered across the wet pavement as the clock struck midnight. And the burning aftertaste of Suzune's cooking still haunted the back of my mind.
The woman in the CCTV footage, whom we assumed was Miyu Tachibana, entered Kabukicho around three to five blocks from the restaurant.
CCTV coverage ended the moment she entered.
A few heads turned as we walked. Someone gasped quietly—'Isn't that Suzune Amamiya?' before another whispered, 'Her boyfriend's cute.'
More people passed by as an ad flickered from a billboard, accompanied by the constant shouts of the most random drunkards crashing into the walls.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. Suzune, of course, acted like she didn't hear any of it.
"Just keep your head down, smile if anyone pulls their phone out," she murmured. "The less they think, the safer we are."
"You seem pretty familiar with this place," I muttered, "are you sure you've never been here before?"
Suzune looked around. The neon signs of Kabukicho were a few minutes across as people kept passing us.
"Of course I haven't." She said, tone blunt. "Do you think I'm the type of person to risk being here?"
"I think my tongue can answer that question."
She laughed, elbowing my side as the Kabukicho's signs were just a few steps ahead.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Suzune said.
Silence lingered between us as our steps carried us closer to Kabukicho.
As we turned the corner, the lights burned through my eyes—even worse than the beef.
I still hate her for that.
Neon signs screamed from every direction—garish, overexposed, and all competing for attention. The smell hit next—sweet, metallic, and uncomfortably human.
Muffled music by the walls.
Drunk laughter by the side.
Intense moaning by the alleys.
We passed by the overhang—glowing a bright red—as I turned my head to look at the CCTV camera.
The area around this place is similar to the one shown in the photo.
Suzune nudged me. "We're here."
"So this is the place, huh?" I said. "The most dangerous place in Tokyo."
Suzune reached into her coat pocket. "Which is why I brought this."
The clack of metal echoed as she pulled something out.
"Pepper spray...?"
"And this." She flipped her coat's hem as a small clack hit my ear.
A gun—no, a taser.
She must've got it from her dad.
"Are you really sure about not being here before?" I said, stepping over a puddle.
"Dad says this area used to be worse," she muttered, scanning the alleys. "Not that it's much better now, considering that we're here."
We both began to walk in silence once again, analyzing every single building while avoiding certain people.
However, there are things that can't be avoided sometimes—like it's premeditated that it'll happen sooner or later.
We were passing by a love hotel, obviously ignoring the... signs, when a few men in black jackets approached us.
One of them, a guy with slicked back hair, approached Suzune while shoving me away.
"Hey, hey," he drawled, his breath reeking of alcohol. "You look a little too dressed up for this part of town, sweetheart."
Suzune didn't answer. Her eyes stayed locked forward.
"What's with the kid?" another one sneered, jabbing a thumb at me. "Your bodyguard?"
"Maybe a boyfriend," the slick-haired one said, laughing. "Lucky bastard—what's she cost, huh?"
"Don't," Suzune said sharply, voice low.
The smile fell from his face.
"The fuck?" He laughed, turning to his men. "Hey, boys! This chick sure has a mouth!"
Suzune only sighed as she reached into her pocket.
The guy took a glance at Suzune once again. "Huh," he smirked, reaching for her shoulder, "whaddya say we put that mouth to some use—"
Snap
"One."
Pop
"Two."
Another.
"Three."
Again.
"Four."
And again.
"Five."
The man bent backwards, screaming as metal left his skin; he fell to the ground immediately, arms still twitching.
Even I felt the jolt...
Suzune tucked the taser back as she kneeled down, thumb pressing into the man's neck and arms before looking back up at the stunned lackeys.
"Don't worry," she said. "It was just a taser; he's still alive."
The guys just looked at each other before nodding, bolting as soon as she stood up. Not that I blamed them—getting close would mean risking the same fate.
"Impressive," I said, looking down at the incapacitated man. "I kinda feel sorry for him; his friends just left him in this state."
"They'll come back for him." She wrapped the man's arm around her shoulder before lifting him up. "Let's drag him over there."
"You sure he's not gonna wake up halfway?"
"I tased him for five seconds."
I nodded, wrapping the man's other arm around my shoulder as we walked towards the alley beside the love hotel.
We dropped him there before continuing our walk.
After we had some distance, I turned around to see some of the previous lackeys running towards the alley as they dragged their boss's body.
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It didn't take long for us to reach Suzune's "info grounds".
The info ground in question was a nightclub, or a bar, depending on the time of day. Music blasted from it as we neared, the chatter of people around us muffled by the constant sounds coming from the place.
"Is this the place?" I said.
"Most likely." Suzune led us to a nearby alley as she reached into her coat again. "If you were a young idol who wandered in here to have fun, where would you go?"
"A place to get wasted? Honestly, I wouldn't know."
"Probably." Suzune nodded, holding out two cards.
She took one for herself before giving the other to me.
These were unusually high-quality for fake IDs. Even the material is convincing enough. White, polished, and had our headshots propped up.
"Just to be sure," Suzune took my hand, "you are Suzune Amamiya's boyfriend, and we're two perfectly legal adults entering this place. If anyone asks, don't hesitate to tell them that we're here for the 'private rooms'."
I coughed. "Worst case scenario is we have to follow through with that."
The two of us visibly flinched from the thought.
Pretty disgusting.
As we started walking, hand in hand, the music got louder with each step. The deep purple of the walls and lights met us as we made our way towards the door.
The bouncer, built like a refrigerator in a suit, glanced at us as we approached.
"IDs," he said flatly, voice barely audible over the bass.
Suzune handed both cards over with a smile as she leaned on my arm.
The bouncer gave me a glance as he scanned through our IDs, nodding.
I think this was supposed to be the universal acknowledgement among guys, saying "Damn, nice one." Well, Suzune is a model, so it's a given that she's beautiful—which is probably why he gave me that look.
But for me?
No. Absolutely not, "nice one", this girl burned me alive ten minutes ago.
He looked up, crossing his arms. "You two don't look like the usual crowd for this hour."
I stepped forward, smiling. "We got a little too caught up with the rest of this place, let's just say we ran a little late."
I continued. "And the hotels can be pretty expensive too, you know?"
"We're just here for the drinks," Suzune said. "And maybe the rooms, if you know what I mean, Mr. Bouncer."
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Sometimes plans outright fail. Sometimes plans succeed.
There's a concept called "integer overflow."
When you add one to a number that's already at its limit, it loops back—turning positive into negative.
Math and human logic aren't exactly the same, but in some cases, they are.
Sometimes, a plan succeeds so well that it ultimately undermines itself.
Which is why I can confidently say—
"I called it."
I lay flat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling lights. Suzune's things were spread neatly across the bed—her pepper spray, taser, wallet, and phone.
Not her clothes, obviously.
"I'm surprised that it worked too well," I said, turning my head towards her. "With how good that performance was, I think you could branch into acting, Suzune."
Suzune was sitting on "our" bed: legs crossed, coat off, palming her face as she looked down at me.
"At least we got in." She deadpanned. "Let's think positive for once. We could use this place to plan out how we're obtaining information in this nightclub."
I sat up on the floor, adjusting my jacket. "But we can't just walk out of this place immediately."
I crossed my legs. "They're expecting us to be doing... stuff here. For a while, actually."
"Quick question," I said.
"Hm?" She looked up.
"If two drunk, overly affectionate people booked this kind of room—how long would they… You know… do whatever they're supposed to do before it's normal to leave?"
"Statistically speaking," Suzune muttered, crossing her arms, "the average… encounter lasts about thirty to forty minutes. So if we stay here for that long, it'll look normal."
She cleared her throat. "In the meantime, let's plan this out."
"Wait." I frowned. "How do you know that?"
Suzune froze, then turned her back to me as she began arranging her things on the bed. "Research. You know... uh, social studies. And... Mom's stories."
"Stories," I muttered.
Now that I think about it, Ms. Amamiya really does seem like the type.
"Anyway—" Suzune coughed, quickly changing tone. "Let's not waste time."
She sat down beside me, pulling her phone out and setting it between us. The light from the screen cast pale blue over her face as she scrolled through the case files.
The music outside thumped heavier, and the lights in our room dimmed, settling into a faint crimson glow. Her fingers kept swiping until we reached a certain page in the documents.
Suzune pointed at the screen. "What we know is that she arrived in Shinkuju at 11:47 pm, then entered Kabikicho less than 10 minutes later."
I leaned on the bed's frame. "And your guess is that she went inside this nightclub to 'have fun' or something along those lines."
She sighed, adjusting her sitting position as she crossed her legs. "But that was only a guess. I assumed it was as is because of the police reports from questioning."
She swiped to the side before pointing at a specific text. "Here."
We believe that Ms. Tachibana may have entered Kabukicho to socialize or relax before returning home.
Reports from bystanders have stated that they saw a woman with a similar figure and build to her from 11:40 pm to 12:30 am.
I skimmed through the rest of the text—these were the transcriptions and other details that were either too vague or unimportant to Tachibana's case.
But then I saw something within the other reports.
Evoke Production, Ms. Tachibana's agency, has claimed that they ended her contract the same day she was spotted in Shinkuju Station.
I pointed towards it. "Suzune, do you see this?"
She lifted her gaze. "What?"
"It says here that her agency dropped her the same day she came here." My fingers zoomed the text in. "Do you think it could be related to that?"
Suzune stayed silent as her eyes darted through the screen.
"What if Miyu Tachibana had a different reason for coming here?" I continued, turning as my back faced the door behind us. "Being laid off by an agency would be crushing for a rising idol."
The breeze from the window kept pouring in as the music continued thudding and thudding by the walls on the other side.
"I think she went here to cope with that fact." I looked at her; she was still reading through the documents. "If the report's right and she's over twenty, maybe she came here to forget everything—just for one night."
"Maybe even to try some alcohol, though I don't know if she's the type of person to drink."
The ceiling light flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
After a few seconds of silence, I heard a faint chuckle from her.
"Miyato." Our eyes met as she lifted her head, and she covered her mouth as the laughter stopped. "This is exactly why I asked for your help."
Her finger pressed a button. The phone turned off. "Well then, what's your conclusion?"
The edge of my thumb was against my chin before I knew it.
The bass thudded away; the breeze narrowed to nothing.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before muttering—soft, but loud enough for her to hear.
"Miyu Tachibana."
"Idol—former idol."
"Timeline: 11:47 pm, arrives at Shinjuku station."
"Destination: Kabukicho, approximately 300 meters east."
"CCTV footage ends at Kabukicho."
I frowned. "Coincidence? Convenient..."
Suzune's eyes widened.
"Witness accounts..."
"Primary hypothesis revolves around recreation."
"Police reports from bystanders."
"Believed to be spotted deep into Kabukicho."
"Police reports from her agency..."
"Laid off the same day all this happened."
"Secondary hypothesis revolves around coping."
Suzune's hand gripped the bedsheet; her eyes were still on me.
"Unreliable sources stated that she was in this very area."
"If true, it could mean that she interacted with the staff here."
I blinked as the light flickered once more.
As I raised my gaze, Suzune was still sitting there, hand on her phone, gripping the bedsheet, eyes locked onto me.
I spoke up.
"Miyu Tachibana at that moment could've most likely been in a depressed state; she wouldn't actively socialize." I paused.
"That said, if she came here to drink, the only person she might have any meaningful interaction with is the bartender."
Suzune exhaled, a small smirk forming on her face as she held a hand over her chest. "That was... Impressive." She stretched her arms before standing up from the bed. "We still have a few minutes left."
I checked the clock—sure enough, it's been 36 minutes since we entered.
That means it must be past midnight...
I won't be able to go home because of this.
Suzune began ruffling up the bed. Her hands crumpled the bedsheets, arranged pillows in a way that suggested action, and then draped the blanket over so that it dangled off the frame.
"Miyato, mind helping around?" She said, winking. "We have to make this look convincing, you know?"
I sighed before smiling, closing the windows whilst opening the cabinets.
My steps led me to the drawer beside the bed.
This must be the one.
I pulled it open, revealing several packs of condoms and other "things".
When I turned to my side, Suzune was snickering as she messed with the blankets. I returned the gesture with a sigh before grabbing a pack.
But seriously, did it have to be me?
I tore a few packs open before throwing them in the trash... and on the floor.
"I think that's about it." Suzune smirked as she took a glance at our "room"—it was pretty convincing if I do say so myself. Almost everything here screamed that something must've happened.
She faced the door before looking at me.
"Ready?"