One woman with her neck bent to the side latched onto the car right next to Teruo and howled. Shinji threw her a glare, hoping it was enough, but she was insistent and shoved her bent head inside the car. Though Shinji risked Teruo seeing it, he summoned hisreiryokuand whipped a wave of white energy in her direction, pushing the ghost away from the car and back onto the street. That attracted all the spirits’ attention and they stopped yelling, putting distance between themselves and the car.
Teruo took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Ifeltthat.”
“I’m sorry,” Shinji said. “I had to.”
“Don’t tell me. Ghosts.” Teruo looked at him waiting for an answer, but Shinji didn’t give him one.
Teruo nodded to himself, running his gaze along the streets outside the car, perhaps wondering where the ghosts were. He couldn’t see them which made this whole thing more puzzling. All supernaturals could see spirits. They were born with this ability.
What added the strawberry on top of this supernatural cake was that Shinji had the impression he siphoned Teruo’s vitality when hisreiryokuwas depleted. He’d sensed the same thing Saturday evening when Teruo picked him up. The moment they touched, Shinji’s drained spiritual energy replenished. Why and how such a thing could happen? Shinji had no idea... yet.
The GPS showed they were right in front of Yamato’s apartment block and Shinji parked, got out and grabbed the black duffel bag from the back seat.
The building wasn’t luxurious, but it was well-maintained and they had to gain access inside from the guard. He was a stern looking middle-aged man who bowed deeply when he saw their badges.
“We’d like to see Yamato Daichi’s apartment, if possible,” Teruo said after giving a brief explanation about the crime.
“Certainly,” the guard said, bringing out a spare stack of keys. “I am heartbroken to hear about him. He was a fine young man. He used to be a football player.”
“Used to?” Shinji asked, intending to corroborate what Suzuki had told them.
“He quit because of an injury,” the guard replied. “Didn’t stop him from keeping in shape and becoming a coach.”
“I see.” Teruo nodded as they stepped inside the elevator going to the fifth floor.
This aligned with what Suzuki’s forensic team dug out about Yamato. Shinji found it interesting that the guard called him a “fine young man”. Then again, from Shinji’s very short interaction with Yamato as a spirit, it seemed like he changed his violent behavior. The ghost was nothing but nice and humble. People could turn their lives around after all.
Upon reaching the fifth floor, they exited and the guard guided them to Yamato’s apartment. He unlocked it and let them inside.
“Has anyone visited Yamato in the past few weeks or so?” Shinji inquired, opening up the bag and grabbing gloves, passing a pair to Teruo.
“Not recently, no. Friends came by sometimes.”
Teruo showed him a picture of Ozawa and another of Ishida. “These friends?”
“No. He met with a woman about a month ago, but not her.”
“When exactly?” Teruo said. “And what did she look like?”
“Can’t remember the day, but she was tall, in her late thirties, long hair tied in a ponytail. She was from a funeral home. She left me a business card too.” The guard ran his fingers over his thin mustache, mumbling, “Not sure why. I’m not that old.”
Funeral home?Shinji wondered. That could mean Yamato had to take care of a family funeral. He wasn’t sure if this fit at all into the overall case, but Shinji wrote it down in his notepad anyway.
“Do you still have the business card?” Teruo asked.
“No, but I remember the name.”
Shinji passed his notepad and the guard wrote down the funeral house’s name.
“Have you had issues with breaking and entering?” Teruo added. “Or any people lurking around, causing trouble?”
The guard shook his head. “The main entrance is the only entrance and it has an alarm system. The night guard or I would’ve noticed.”
“Thank you,” Teruo said. “We’ll be here for a while to check the apartment for evidence.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” The guard gave Shinji the key, bowed and returned to the first floor.
The apartment was untouched and coated in a thin layer of dust. No one had come in here, not the criminal or any of Yamato’s next of kin. They put on gloves and searched through Yamato’s clothes and drawers looking for anything that could tie Yamato to one of his classmates. There were recent receipts in his trash can, but none were from restaurants. Shinji hadn’t seen him in the high school reunion pictures, but that didn’t mean he didn’t attend.