Chapter 26: An After-Work Gathering

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Before crossing into this world and becoming a police officer, Kiichi had often found it incomprehensible, while watching television, that police officers would visit criminals they had arrested.

But as he grew more accustomed to his present identity, he gradually shed the playful mindset of someone who had crossed into another world.

Little by little, he began to understand many things that had once baffled him.

For instance, after learning the truth behind the Asami Terahara case, he could still complain about how melodramatic it was and mock the characters for having mouths but never saying what needed to be said, just as he once had.

But no matter what, he still felt uncomfortable.

Especially after encountering so many perpetrators of “true evil,” he found himself increasingly disturbed by fools who killed people over nothing more than a “misunderstanding.”

It was not sympathetic forgiveness. It was simply discomfort.

That was why he had deliberately brought a newspaper with him when he went to see Asami Terahara.

“No, this can’t be true!”

Seeing Asami collapse into tears brought Kiichi no pleasure. That was not why he had come.

He had not revealed the truth in order to torment her.

He had done it for one reason only: because it was the truth.

That was enough.

As for what Asami Terahara chose to do afterward, that was her own affair.

Whether she faced her guilt calmly, served her sentence, and atoned for her crimes, or found the truth unbearable and took her own life—

none of that was Kiichi’s concern anymore.

Even so,

he still felt somewhat uncomfortable inside. But there was no need to dwell on it. People ought to leave themselves room to vent their emotions.

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He was not some adolescent suffering from delusions of grandeur, thinking that being antisocial was incredibly cool and that having no empathy made one invincible.

All he wanted was to be an ordinary person with a few peculiarities.

So after work, he took the rare initiative of joining the gathering at the izakaya.

“I never thought the Chief Inspector would actually come,” Takagi said, feeling distinctly uneasy. It was already difficult enough with Shiratori, who seemed to respawn here every time and kept him from finding an opportunity to speak with Sato. And now Kiichi had shown up as well.

Compared with Megure’s affable, good-natured personality, Takagi was actually more afraid of Kiichi, who always wore such a stern expression.

Although Kiichi was younger and never went out of his way to mistreat his subordinates, Takagi always felt a kind of old-fashioned superior’s pressure whenever he faced him.

“Exactly. Who comes to an izakaya and doesn’t drink?” Sato said.

Perhaps because she had grown up in a family of police officers, Sato was less affected by Kiichi’s manner than the others and found it easier to get along with him.

“No, thank you. I don’t drink,” Kiichi replied calmly. In any case, he held the highest rank here and had no need to worry about anyone forcing alcohol on him. Besides, he genuinely disliked alcohol. Even when he was not drunk, he could not tolerate the slightest dullness brought on by even a little alcohol.

“It seems the previous case is still weighing on you, Higashino,” Shiratori said. He knew a little more than the others, but mentioned it with considerable restraint.

“Yes. That isn’t strange, is it?” Kiichi had come to the gathering precisely because he felt troubled by the matter. Since Shiratori had brought it up himself, he could hardly complain if Kiichi treated him as a receptacle for his thoughts. “Of course, anyone who kills over romantic feelings is already an extreme and troubled person. But regardless, once you discover that the motive was based on a misunderstanding, it is bound to upset anyone who learns the truth.”

“Oh? So you do care about things like that, Higashino?” Sato asked curiously.

“Why wouldn’t I care?” Strictly speaking, he could not claim to have been completely unaware of the impression he gave, but now Kiichi was genuinely curious about how his colleagues saw him.

“Because you seem exactly like the sort of person who shouldn’t care about things like that at all,” Sato replied matter-of-factly. “You seem more like the type to grab a criminal by the collar and say, ‘You killed someone. No matter what the circumstances were, you’d better go to prison and reflect properly.’”

Takagi began laughing beside her. That was indeed how he had always imagined the stern-faced chief inspector. But he quickly remembered that Kiichi was sitting right there and hurriedly swallowed his laughter.

“That isn’t true.” Other people’s impressions could not be overturned by words, and Kiichi had no interest in changing them. But the truth was the truth, and he ought to correct her. “I’m just an ordinary person. Of course I have all kinds of emotions.”

“Is that so? Then if you’re an ordinary person, why do you never take part in any social activities? You even ignore invitations from so many female officers asking you out.”

Sato had always been a blunt, straightforward tomboy, but Kiichi suspected she had had a little too much to drink.

“Because I don’t know how to socialize,” Kiichi replied. “Once you participate in social activities and grow closer to people, you inevitably have to engage in a great deal of meaningless small talk.”

“Then do you think this is meaningless small talk, Higashino?”

Sato appeared to be genuinely drunk.

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The alarm bells in Takagi and Shiratori’s minds were already blaring.

“Under ordinary circumstances, I would,” Kiichi replied. “But since I chose to join the gathering of my own accord today, naturally it isn’t.”

When one was in a bad mood, one needed to engage in some pointless, valueless social activity. That was what it meant to be human.

“In that case, this must be a rare moment when you’re willing to open your heart, Higashino,” Shiratori interjected. Although Kiichi had always said that Sato’s personality did not appeal to him in the slightest, Shiratori felt it would be unwise to lower his guard completely. “Since we’re discussing social matters, I think everyone at the station is curious about what you look for in a romantic partner.”

“I’ve also heard that many of the women in the Traffic Division have been asking about the chief inspector’s ideal type,” Takagi added. With two people already leading the charge, he found the courage to join in.

“Exactly. Yumi often complains that I can’t give her even one useful piece of information,” Sato said, displaying her own small degree of curiosity.

“It’s precisely because too many people are asking that I don’t want to say,” Kiichi replied.

“Why not?” Takagi could not understand.

“Because if I say it, the information will inevitably spread. Then someone will inevitably deliberately behave in accordance with it,” Kiichi explained. “At that point, it would be meaningless.”

“Meaningless?” Shiratori asked, puzzled.

“Isn’t love, by definition, supposed to be about liking the other person for who they truly are, rather than for the image they deliberately present? In that respect, although the late Tatsuya Kimura was an idiot, I do agree with his ideas on this particular matter,” Kiichi replied. “Whatever the other person happens to present—whether it is voluntary, and whether they would be willing to remain that way forever—that is not what I want.”

“But don’t people say that being in love is a process in which two people gradually adjust to each other?” Takagi asked.

“Yes. For most people, I suppose that is indeed how it works...” Kiichi conceded. “But I don’t want that. To be honest, I know perfectly well that I’m a rather terrible person. In particular, I tend to show the worst side of myself to people close and familiar to me. When dealing with outsiders, I care about social etiquette and never allow myself to behave without restraint. But with people I know well and feel close to, I stop caring about such things. If they do something wrong, then I get angry.”

“Hmm...” Takagi had no idea how to respond.

“So, Higashino, have you ever had someone close enough that you no longer cared about keeping up appearances?” Shiratori asked perceptively.

“No,” Kiichi replied. “I’m not saying that as a lie or an evasion. There simply hasn’t been anyone. Because I know exactly what kind of person I am, I never even tried.”

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