Chapter Forty-Six: Sneaking into the Suzumiya Residence

“Wow, the living environment here is quite nice.” Kurohane Itsuki checked the address recorded in Asuka Suzumiya’s file, hailed a taxi, and after nearly twenty minutes, the vehicle came to a stop. Paying the driver and stepping out, he scanned the numbers on the doors, searching through the upscale villas one by one.

A three-story villa appeared before Kurohane Itsuki’s eyes.

Looking at the iron gate blocking the path outside the courtyard, Kurohane felt this gate was redundant for him—it could be easily scaled with a light leap. Just then, perhaps a local resident passed by, and Kurohane lowered his hands, which were already gripping the railing ready to climb, and pressed the doorbell instead.

He pressed the doorbell, but it didn’t ring. Probably dead batteries, and the owner hadn’t noticed or replaced it.

About to knock, a memory from his first big cleaning when he gave money to Suzumiya flashed through his mind, causing him to shake his head with a smile. After all, she was still a girl, no matter how bold she could be—once a proud young lady. After what had happened yesterday, if he rashly gave her money now, she would surely refuse again.

“I’ll leave the money secretly and leave.” Kurohane glanced around to ensure no one was watching, then vaulted over, landing lightly on the smooth grass inside the courtyard, moving toward the villa.

Sneaking in meant he couldn’t use the main gate. Approaching, he noticed a floor-to-ceiling window on the first floor, which might allow him to observe inside and plan his next move.

It was noon, the sun shining brightly, golden rays washing over the window and reflecting white light that momentarily dazzled Kurohane, obstructing his vision. He closed his eyes and pricked his ears, listening carefully for any movement inside. The living room on the first floor was silent. No one seemed to be there. He edged closer to the window.

An armchair sat near the window, where a middle-aged man covered with a thin blanket sat, staring blankly outside. A closer look would reveal his eyes were vacant, lifeless.

Kurohane’s cautious instincts kept him from focusing on the man’s eyes. Seeing the shadow, he flipped over, falling hard onto the ground, hiding in the shadow between the waterproof layer and the grass.

“Why does doing a good deed feel like carrying out a mission?” Kurohane shifted uncomfortably, easing the impact against his back, dispersing the pain.

Inside, still no movement. They hadn’t discovered him. That was impossible—he had been so close, just separated by a layer of glass. Perhaps they were just alert. Resigned, Kurohane lay still, thinking about how to retreat. Being mistaken for a thief and getting arrested would be a huge problem.

He had come with the intention of doing good, not like a mission where he could act as he pleased as long as he stayed hidden. Here, everything had to be cautious—no harm, no evasion—making this “helping mission” much harder. Only now did he understand why people often said being a good person was difficult.

But since he had made up his mind, he couldn’t give up easily. Having stepped into the courtyard, leaving now was not something Kurohane Itsuki, the rising star of Iga, would do.

“Tap, tap, tap.”

Soft footsteps approached the floor-to-ceiling window.

Kurohane tilted his head slightly, his elegant bangs slipping aside. Someone was inside after all; there had been no sound earlier. Judging by the lightness of the footsteps, it was probably a girl.

“Right, Asuka Suzumiya didn’t go to class today. She should be home. Isn’t that who I’m here to find? Damn, have I already been discovered?” Kurohane lay quietly on the grass, focusing intently on sounds from inside.

“Dad, it’s time to eat.”

Asuka Suzumiya’s voice came through.

“Dad, today I made your favorite curry rice. You once told me that when you and Mom started your business, you often ate badly—sometimes only a bowl of instant noodles. Only on Mondays would Mom make a fragrant curry to encourage you. You always finished it happily, licking the plate clean.”

Her tone was soft and calm, but as she spoke on, her voice wavered slightly.

“Dad, this is the only dish Mom taught me to make. It’s very fragrant, tastes just like hers.”

“Dad, please have a bite. Drinking cold nutritional drinks every day can’t be good.”

“It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“It’s all my fault, all my fault.”

“Dad, didn’t you say that when I got married, you’d hold the most unique wedding in the world and personally give me away to my future husband?”

“...”

“Dad, we have a new transfer student in class. He’s really handsome.”

“...”

Listening to Asuka Suzumiya’s words, Kurohane was certain the man sitting by the window was her vegetative father, Teru Suzumiya. His heart didn’t lighten; instead, it grew heavy.

He knew that the curry rice was surely eaten by Asuka herself in the end.

After some time, Asuka left.

Kurohane stood and stepped inside again. He saw Teru Suzumiya through the floor-to-ceiling window—eyes closed, motionless in the armchair, an IV drip attached to his hand. Gentle sunlight bathed him, as if he were simply sunbathing during an afternoon rest.

“Huh, I think I’ve seen this illness before.”

Observing the man’s pathological signs, Kurohane recalled seeing the same case somewhere. His mind raced, and a secret medical manual from Iga surfaced in his thoughts.

“Tap, tap, tap.”

Just as he was about to step closer to examine the condition, hurried footsteps approached—Asuka was coming back.

Kurohane pushed off with both feet, leapt backward, supporting himself with his arms, and once again flattened into the shadowed corner of the waterproof layer.

“Dad, lunch is ready, and you’ve had some sun. You must be tired. I’ll take you for a nap. I have to go to school later, so be good, okay?” Asuka struggled gently to lift her father from the armchair and carefully placed him in his wheelchair. She rubbed her tired eyes and pushed him toward the bedroom. “I’ve already fallen behind a lot in school, and now I can’t slack off. I have to catch up. Don’t worry, Dad—when I get into a good university, graduate, and find a great job, I’ll earn lots of money to pay for your treatment.”

“She’s really strong,” Kurohane muttered, peeking his head out to watch Asuka pushing the wheelchair into the bedroom. After yesterday’s traumatic ordeal—one that could have broken an ordinary girl—she had recovered after only half a day’s rest. Perhaps she was just hiding her pain.

Thinking that she might soon leave and that hiding in the courtyard would risk discovery, Kurohane quickly sprinted to the iron gate, grabbed the bar with one hand, pushed off with his feet, and vaulted out.

Standing at a corner, he watched Asuka Suzumiya, now in her school uniform, walk away. Then Kurohane flipped back into the courtyard, reached the front door, and slipped two pieces of wire into the keyhole.