The downpour knocked petals off, and the cherry blossom branches drooped.
The auditorium doors were pushed open, letting the wind and rain rush in. Thunder roared in the distance, and two silhouettes were cast upon the red carpet of the auditorium.
Sakurai Chizuru closed her umbrella with one hand and hung it by the door.
She carried a suitcase in her left hand, dressed in a brown trench coat with overlapping lapels, and a tightly fastened belt that accentuated her waist; the hem of the coat concealed her ankles.
"Let's go in." She said, turning to the side.
Fushimi Roku stepped inside, and Sakurai Chizuru stood beside him, reaching out to shut the door.
This was the auditorium for the opening ceremony, usually closed to the public, and the door was generally locked. Sakurai Chizuru had borrowed the key, brought props, and planned to experience a more thrilling new game tonight.
"Weren't we supposed to have special guidance?" Fushimi Roku asked, pretending not to know: "What are we doing here?"
"Speak respectfully." Sakurai Chizuru took out a key and locked the door from the inside.
"Yes, Instructor."
"I don't like to beat around the bush, so I'll come straight to the point. You're Kawai's accomplice, aren't you?"
Sakurai Chizuru had a predator's smile on her face. She carried the suitcase and walked through the rows of benches, standing on the stage, looking up at the police emblem relief.
"I'm not familiar with her." Fushimi Roku said.
This was the truth; he indeed wasn't familiar with Kawai.
"You met her last night and took something from her underwear," Sakurai Chizuru took out a film from her coat pocket and placed it gently on the lectern: "It was all photographed, so denying it is useless."
She turned her head and pressed on, "Doing such despicable things, don't you feel ashamed of that police uniform?"
Fushimi Roku genuinely didn't feel so. For him, it was just a job, not something that elevated to the level of faith or ideals, as he didn't feel a sense of belonging to this country or this land.
Seeing him silent, Sakurai Chizuru felt even more satisfied. She placed the suitcase on the lectern with a surge of excitement and said, "For a student like you, who shows no remorse, the most severe punishment is necessary."
Clack, the suitcase lock clicked open.
Sakurai Chizuru's slender fingers rummaged through the suitcase, occasionally making scraping metal sounds and the jingling of bells.
"Let's start with the most basic form of respect."
She took out a dark red leather collar with a simple brass bell mounted on it, attached to a slender metal chain, and gently said with her right index finger hooked to the round handle at the end of the chain: "Do you know how to address your superior?"
"Oh ya gee?" Fushimi Roku said.
Sakurai Chizuru did not refute, simply beckoning with her finger: "Come here."
Fushimi Roku stepped forward, only to see Sakurai Chizuru standing on the stage, lifting her right foot to rest on his shoulder, lowering the collar and commanding:
"Kneel."
Fushimi Roku looked up and saw the enchanting view hidden under her trench coat.
This woman truly is a complete pervert...
Sakurai Chizuru, wearing women's long boots, had gathered quite a bit of mud and water on the way here. At this moment, her heel splattered Fushimi Roku's shoulder and continued to apply pressure.
"You don't want to be expelled, do you?"
She looked down at Fushimi Roku, stamping her heel repeatedly on his shoulder: "Still can't figure out the situation? Know your place, you bastard!"
Fushimi Roku suddenly stepped back, causing Sakurai Chizuru's foot to overreach, almost falling off the stage. She stumbled backward, hitting something like a curtain, which cushioned her fall.
"Aren't you the one who doesn't understand the situation?" Fushimi Roku raised an eyebrow, brushing the mud and water off his left shoulder with his right hand.
Fury filled Sakurai Chizuru's heart, and her gaze turned cold. Though she indeed favored tough men, being too tough made them unromantic, like a stone in the pit—both smelly and hard, ruining the mood.
She was ready to speak when suddenly, the click of a gun being cocked reached her ears.
The cold muzzle was pressed against Sakurai Chizuru's temple.
It was only then that Sakurai Chizuru realized she hadn't backed into a curtain or any soft cushion but into a woman—a terror that exploded in her heart, causing her muscles to involuntarily tense, raising goosebumps all over.
Who is it?
Fushimi Roku's gaze focused past her, looking at someone behind her: "You didn't make a move early or late, but chose now to move. Are you trying to frame me?"
"There wasn't really a choice," Nagono Kawai's voice sounded, cheerful as ever in her police academy uniform: "How often do you get such a good chance? The location is secluded, the thunder can cover the gunshot; it's simply a godsend opportunity!"
It's her! But why...
Sakurai Chizuru didn't have time to think. She raised her hands, hurriedly persuading: "Calm down! Nagano, please calm down… think about why you joined the police academy, don't do something you'll regret for the rest of your life..."
"Yeah, yeah," Fushimi Roku sat on the front bench, crossing his legs, leisurely saying: "Instructor Sakurai is an officer, according to Japan's criminal law, at the least, it's life imprisonment. Killing her would ruin your life!"
Sakurai Chizuru felt something off in what he said, but she had no time to ponder, only focusing on how to escape.
Silence fell again in the auditorium, pierced only by the sound of rain.
"You two, what you said is so annoying." Nagono Kawai said.
"Uh? Don't get agitated, Nagano, it's just getting expelled from school, you still have a bright future..."
Sakurai Chizuru's words were cut off by Nagono Kawai: "Do you know why I wanted to become a police officer?"
"For… justice?"
"No."
"For job stability?"
"No."
Kawai paused for a moment, took a step back, and pointed the gun at the back of Sakurai Chizuru's head: "For thirteen years, I've been going to the police station every week, asking about the progress of the investigation. Every time I walk in, an officer would make me a cup of tea and say, 'I understand how you feel,' then, 'but the case is still under investigation,' and finally, 'please be patient, we will surely bring the criminal to justice'... the same lines used in practice classes to comfort victims' families."
Sakurai Chizuru found it hard to breathe.
"In the first month, everyone was fired up, saying they'd definitely catch the culprit and give her the punishment she deserves. Father posted notices everywhere, mother asked for news at mother's meetings, town district police box issued a wanted notice, patrolling everywhere;"
"A year later, the notices were covered by advertisements, mother's group had many changes in members, the wanted poster was replaced with the face of a murder suspect. Father chanted scriptures, saying it was all karma, hoping that my brother would be reborn into a good family;"
"Five years later, people started telling me to stop dwelling on the past, that one needs to look forward; in a blink of an eye, ten years passed, and father said I was obsessed, blinded by hate, mother also wept continually, hoping I'd change my mind."
"Yet in their eyes, I was still 'stubborn in my ways.' After graduating, I worked for four years, saving up tuition, took the civil service exam, and applied to join the police academy. If no one was going to continue the investigation, then I would. Even if it took ten years, twenty years, I would find the woman who ran over my brother."
"And so, on the first day of school, I saw you."
"Instructor Sakurai, you've aged well, looking as young as back then."
Sakurai Chizuru's fingers trembled, feeling her body grow colder inch by inch.
"Actually, I don't hate you at all, I'm not obsessed with revenge," Nagono Kawai spoke softly: "Instructor Sakurai, I truly don't hate you."
"I just hate that it wasn't me who died back then."