It took two hours to put everything they had found into evidence before they could even entertain requesting another interview with the reserve's owners. Mr Tsukishima and Mr Shirotani were busy men, and with the reserve getting inundated with complaints from companies and individuals alike having their reservations cancelled, and even more messages about missing employees, appointments, weddings and other meetings needing to be amended, meant they were absolutely swamped.
Nanata couldn't help but feel a chasm of guilt tear through her as she watched the two elderly men shuffle from their office to a designated interview space. Mr Shirotani yawned into his veiny hands, while Mr Tsukishima scratched the sprouting white hairs on his cheeks.
"Good evening, Mr Shirotani, Mr Tsukishima. We're conducting some secondary interviews in accordance with potential evidence we found. We're going to start the recording now, if you two consent," Officer Nanata said.
The two old men nodded.
"Unfortunately," Detective Asakura said, pressing the red button on his recording device, "We require oral consent."
"I consent," yawned Mr Shirotani.
"I consent," Mr Tsukishima echoed.
"Fantastic," Detective Asakura said, glancing at his watch, "The time is 19:27, and the interview with Mr Shirotani and Mr Tsukishima is commencing. Primary interviewer, Detective Asakura Ryohei present."
"Secondary interviewer, Officer Nanata Kyoko present. Will you two please give your names for the record?"
"Mr Tsukishima Kouji."
"Mr Shirotani Botan."
"Fantastic. Thank you," Detective Asakura said, "I would like to remind you both on the record that you are here voluntarily and have the right to terminate the interview whenever you please. You are not under arrest nor are you under caution. You may request food, drinks, recesses, clarification, representation and more as and whenever you deem necessary. Can you please confirm your understanding of this?"
"I understand," they said in unison.
"Thank you," Detective Asakura said, "We have a few questions with reference to one of your hiking trails; the one with the adjacent pools off the main route? Are you familiar with this place?"
"Yes," Mr Tsukishima said, "We both are. It's one of our main attractions to the site. There are dozens of tourists that come with the hopes of catching the infamous glowing fish."
"And you, Mr Shirotani?" Detective Asakura said, his gaze flickering to the other man.
"Yes. I know it. Hell, 'til ol' Kouji had a stroke, two years ago, we used to hike it every day. Had to hire Yoshitani after."
"Ugh," Mr Tsukishima said, elbowing Mr Shirotani, "You old fart, you were always gasping like you smoked sixty a day by the time we reached the top. Your lungs would have burst if you kept it up."
Nanata glanced at Detective Asakura.
"We deployed a dive team at the pools this morning after we discovered this on the stone," she said, "Let the record show I am presenting Mr Shirotani and Mr Tsukishima Exhibit 62B, Photograph of Algae Drawing."
The two old men peered at the photograph Nanata had handed them, squinting at the bold bubble writing exclamation mark that smeared algae across the stone. Mr Tsukishima wrinkled his nose.
"That's not good for the algae," he muttered.
"Indeed," Detective Asakura said dryly. He cleared his throat, "Now, to your knowledge was that marking on the stone prior to Sunday?"
"Can't say I know. Yoshitani will, though," Mr Tsukishima said.
"Ask them basketballers. That ol' Kenjoku Kaiju was up in that hiking trail like a dog with a bone."
"I was afraid you'd say that," Nanata said, "Irrespective of which. Can I please confirm if you know of anything submerged in the waters?"
"Like treasure?" Mr Shirotani snorted, "Or UXBs."
Mr Tsukishima laughed, it was a raucous wheezy sound that left him smacking his knee, "Oh Botan, don't tell me the Americans tried to drop bombs on our reserve during World War Two! We could have made a killing on Trauma Tourism."
"Damn!" Mr Shirotani wheezed, clapping Mr Tsukishima on the back, "May our frames be thin but our wallets be fat."
They continued to laugh. Nanata glanced over at Detective Asakura, who watched them intently, like he was spectating strangers reminisce at a bar, instead of interviewing witnesses for a murder investigation. There was a fondness to his features as he gazed at the two old men clutching their sides and laughing.
When the pair finally ceased laughing, Officer Nanata turned her head to the side, eyes flickering from Detective Asakura to the laminated evidence files. He nodded once and allowed her to take the lead.
"Our divers and mini sub recovered an image of something in the water," Nanata said, "Let the record show that I am presenting Mr Shirotani and Mr Tsukishima with Exhibit 73A and Exhibit 74B, taken by," she glanced back at her notes and held them to her face, reciting the information on file directly, to ensure it was correct, "JPPR3F14K - Kiiro Sensuikan."
"Nanata," Detective Asakura said quietly, his tone fond, "I'm sure that the lawyers in court would just call it Kiiro Sensuikan. It's okay."
She let out a little relieved sigh and waited for Mr Tsukishima or Mr Shirotani to speak. Instead, they huddled together and peered at the images. They were poking and prodding the laminate, letting out the occasional whisper of 'wow', but were otherwise silent. Mr Tsukishima put his laminate down.
"Apologies, Detective Asakura, Officer Nanata. Could we possibly have a zoomed-in image? My eyes aren't what they used to be," he said.
"Of course. Here are Exhibit 73A-XL and Exhibit 74B-XL," Detective Asakura said, handing them two new laminates.
"I recall this symbol," Mr Tsukishima said quietly, "That archaeologist- Jesus."
"What?" Mr Shirotani said, "You mean the archiv- oh no."
They turned back to the police, eyes wide.
Mr Shirotani stumbled out of his chair, and strode out of the door, "I think it's still in my wastepaper basket!"
"Crap," Detective Asakura said, "Interview Recess Begins at um. Nanata? The time?"
"20:08."
"Interview Recess at 20:08." Detective Asakura repeated, turning off the recording device.
"Mr Tsukishima, where is Mr Shirotani's dwelling on-site?"
Mr Tsukishima stretched his sore limbs, "We live in a ground floor apartment round the back of the main building. He's either in there or our records office. And while you're up, lovely, can you fetch us a pot of tea."
"Of course, Sir." Nanata said, getting to her feet.
"Oh no," Mr Tsukishima said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I meant the Detective."
Nanata's jaw dropped, she lowered herself back into the chair and Detective Asakura got to his feet, bowing deeply and leaving the room, he was slow and deliberate when he made his exit, trying not to let anything show on his face, especially not his piqued curiosity. If this case was teaching him anything it was patience.
Despite himself, he was brisk in his movements, all but colliding with the caretaker as he tried to catch up with Mr Shirotani.
"Oh! Mr Sato!" Detective Asakura said, "Have you seen Mr Shirotani?"
Sato Kenta didn't look like himself, his face was contorted in a deep frown and his hands were balled into fists. He pointed with a thumb over his shoulder and continued on his way, not even stopping to entertain the detective with a spoken response.
Detective Asakura stared after him, brows knitted together in thought, before heading off after Mr Shirotani. Sato Kenta was strange, but Shirotani might have evidence that would point directly to a killer, or at the very least, a motive.
Kaho had had enough of basketball. Fumiko had had enough of basketball. Captain Hirano had had enough of basketball. Even Ryota and Taiga had grown bored of the monotony of gameplay. They'd concluded their training early, since everyone was moaning, groaning and voicing abject disinterest in competing day in and day out. They needed a break.
Gameplay had ceased over an hour before dinner, and everyone, Kaho included, spent that time on their phones. They weren't allowed to post on social media, not about being trapped on the reserve, or about the murder. But, most of Kaho's teammates were texting friends. Matsushita had turned some music on and was mumbling under his breath, she thought maybe he was counting, but she couldn't be sure.
Somewhere behind her, Tomohiro, Sunada and Nitta were sprawled out on the floor, listing quotes they could use for their upcoming closed-book exam for their literature class. Either that, or they'd been transported to Feudal Japan, from the language alone but the first seemed more likely, since Matsushita was still playing dubstep.
Kaho's phone trilled with a flurry of incoming texts. She'd turned off her notifications while the team were practicing, and out of respect for Akane's exam. She was commiserating on the other side of the gym, with Coach Itomi patting her on the head like a cat. Kaho wrinkled her nose and peered at the texts, Ichigo was spamming her, asking, no, begging to borrow one of Kaho's t-shirts for a date. Kaho sent back a thumbs-up emoji and turned to the other messages.
That was when she spotted one from Tatsuya. He'd sent it maybe half an hour after school had finished:
'We need to go to the shrine when you come back! There's a new shrine card!"
Kaho's heart soared, she sat upright and let out a little squee. She and Tatsuya had collected shrine cards since they were little; their immense collection was stashed in an ornate chest in her bedroom. Tatsuya had his in a shoebox under the bed but used to hang them from his wall like bunting. She missed seeing them cascade from the ceiling in his room. Before they'd started dating and she'd been allowed in his room whenever she wanted, Tatsuya had it decorated with an eclectic array of items, but he was most proud of his shrine cards. She frowned for a moment, tempted to ask him why he'd taken them down. She'd never thought to consider why, just where they'd gone.
She pressed the video call button and held the phone close to her face. Tatsuya answered the call, promptly, but was silent. His phone seemed to be in his pocket. She could barely hear him; someone was shouting expletives, something about beauty, sex and innocence.
She hung up the call. He must be on shoot.
She groaned and hugged her knees. She missed him. And she was bored.
It was one of the kids from Kuroyama who declared that having these matching sjirts was the best weapon in their arsenal for some fun. They could run around and stay out late, because nobody would be able to identify them, not when they were dressed in the same outfit.
Which was how any idea of a mandated curfew had inadvertently been cast out the window.
The evening chill was harsh against Kaho's skin. She'd been lingering outside Akane's cabin, waiting to see whether Naseru went to visit her after dinner, but thus far, neither Akane nor Naseru had made themselves known. She shivered.
"Aigawa?" she heard a voice call.
She stood up from behind the bush where she'd crouched, her head whipping around. She wouldn't have been surprised if she'd seen Naseru standing just a few feet behind her, that amused look on his face, watching her squat down behind a bush and hide away from Akane whilst remaining otherwise in plain sight.
But he wasn't behind her.
Kaho climbed out of the bush properly and called out for him, certain she'd just heard his voice, and proceeded to follow the sound of his voice.
"Matsuoka," she hissed, "This isn't a game."
She followed him, the ghost of his voice at least, out of the cabin space and toward the main clearing. She could see a figure, shrouded in shadow on the other side of the clearing, by the mouth of one of the hiking trails. It was almost curfew, so the police officers on duty were probably prowling the areas by the cabins, ushering stragglers indoors. But the fact she couldn't see anyone in the clearing made her stomach feel like it was lined with lead.
Naseru called to her again, beckoning her closer. She looked around her and made her way across the clearing to the hiking trail; the easiest of the three to navigate, where he once again disappeared into the darkness.