Tokyo, 1991: Starting as a bank clerk

Chapter 188 Miyazawa Hara...is dead? [Requesting monthly votes]

The scenery outside the window swept past through the gaps between the tall buildings: neon lights, GG signs, and the illuminated window panes in the office buildings receded one by one.

Kenta Sasaki leaned back in his seat, feeling as if his bones had been removed, his head slowly drooping down with the swaying of the car.

Arima Kishou sat next to him, looking at him expressionlessly: "Don't fall into the aisle, it'll be embarrassing."

Kenta Sasaki mumbled a sleepy "hmm," rested his head on Kishou Uema's shoulder, and quickly fell asleep.

Arima Kishou sighed, looking helpless.

Kiryu Yaya couldn't help but smile as he watched this scene.

These two are actually quite compatible.

Yayoi Mina turned her head and glanced at Kiryu Yaya: "Everyone must be tired today."

"Um."

Kiryu Yaya nodded: "That means you had a great time."

Mizuna Yayoi gave a soft "hmm," glanced up at him, and then quickly looked down again.

"senior----"

"Um?

'

"Thank you for today."

Kiryu Yaya thought she was referring to the hair clip and smiled, "There's nothing to thank me for, it's just a small souvenir."

Mizuna Yayoi shook her head: "It's not just that. I also want to thank you for coming to Kyoto today and walking with me through Arashiyama. And I especially want to thank you for singing that song with me at the karaoke."

Kiryu Yaya looked at her and chuckled softly.

"Mizuna-san."

"Yes."

"You've worked very hard today too. You've been leading the way, introducing the itinerary, and taking care of everyone since this morning. You even helped wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen at lunchtime."

Kiryu Yaya paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "We're the ones who should be saying thank you."

Yayoi Mizuna stared at him blankly, her eyes slightly warm, but she quickly lowered her head, suppressing the tears.

"Um?

'

Sensing something amiss, Kiryu Yaya couldn't help but feel puzzled.

Yayoi Mizuna gently shook her head, her eyes filled with tears, but a smile played on her lips: "The tone of your voice reminds me of my grandfather. Your personality is somewhat similar to his—"

"Is that so?"

Kiryu Yaya recalled the car accident that killed Yayoi Masaki and the disappearance of Yayoi Masato, which must have been a huge blow to Yayoi Mizuna.

He felt a pang of heartache, but showed no sign of it, and said with a gentle smile, "Then talk to me more often in the future, maybe it will remind you of your grandfather more often."

Yayoi Mizuna nodded lightly and hummed in thanks, "Thank you, senpai."

The tram stops at Esaka Station.

The four people got off the bus and followed the flow of people toward the checkpoint.

Kenta Sasaki had slept the whole way, and now he was finally a little more awake, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

Arima Kishou walked beside him, his shoulder creased from the impact, and he patted him twice expressionlessly.

"Arima, your shoulder feels good."

"Bring your own cushion next time."

"You're really something—"

When they reached the checkpoint, the four men stopped.

Kenta Sasaki turned around and waved to Yaya Kiryu and Mizuna Yayoi: "We'll be going now. See you Monday."

See you Monday.

Kiryu Yaya nodded.

Arima Kishou bowed slightly, said nothing, and followed Sasaki Kenta toward the JR line.

The two figures quickly blended into the crowd; one was still gesturing and saying something, while the other listened expressionlessly.

The people on the platform gradually dispersed.

Mizuna Yayoi turned around to face Yaya Kiryu, holding a paper bag and a cloth bag in her hands, her head slightly lowered.

After a long while, she finally said, "Goodbye, senior—"

Kiryu Yaya nodded: "Go back and rest early, see you on Monday."

."

"Um."

Mizuna Yayoi nodded slightly and turned to walk towards the Hankyu Line.

After taking a few steps, she turned back, waved at him, and then quickly disappeared into the crowd.

Kiryu Yaya stood there, watching her leave, then switched the bags in his hands to his left and headed straight for the parking lot.

The Honda SuperCub50 was parked quietly in the corner.

He stuffed the paper bag into the storage space under the seat, put on his helmet, climbed onto the bike, and stepped on the start lever.

Back at the apartment.

Kiryu Yaya parked his Honda SuperCub50, locked the handlebars, took off his helmet and hung it on the handlebars, then carried the paper bags upstairs.

Room 203

He took out his keys, opened the door, turned on the light, put the paper bag on the table, took off his shirt and hung it on the hanger behind the door, loosened his collar, and let out a long breath.

After a busy day, I can finally rest.

But before he could take off his shoes, a phone rang urgently in the living room.

Kiryu Yaya frowned slightly.

Who could it be so late?

He put on his slippers and walked over, just about to answer the phone, when the ringing suddenly stopped.

Kiryu Yaya paused for a moment, thinking it was a wrong number, and was about to turn around when the phone rang again.

This time, he didn't hesitate and picked up the receiver directly.

"Feed?"

"Kiryu-kun————"

The voice of Keiko Miyazawa came from the other end of the phone, and for some reason, her voice sounded trembling.

However, Kiryu Yaya didn't realize that Miyazawa Keiko was calling to remind him of tomorrow's dinner party, so he joked, "I remember tomorrow's dinner party, I won't forget."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

Then, Keiko Miyazawa's voice finally rang out, tinged with panic: "No—no!"

"Kiryu-kun—my uncle—Miyazawa Hara—has passed away."

As soon as he finished speaking, Kiryu Yaya's eyes widened suddenly, and something seemed to buzz in his mind.

Miyazawa Hara has passed away?

Of all times!?

Rokko was recently separated from the Miyazawa Group, and Miyazawa was removed from his position as executive director. How long has it been?

Less than half a month.

He actually died?

Kiryu Yaya quickly pressed, "When and why?"

Keiko Miyazawa's panicked voice came through the phone. She had just accepted the death of her father, and now her only uncle had also died: "Two hours ago, a car accident."

"On the Hanshin Expressway, from Osaka to Kobe, his car was rear-ended by a large truck and crashed into the median strip."

Rear-ended by a large truck?

Kiryu Yaya sensed a vague sense of familiarity, then asked, "What did the police say?"

"Still under investigation."

"However, it has been preliminarily determined that the truck driver was driving under the influence of alcohol, and the truck driver has been taken into custody by the police."

"It's said—it's said the blood alcohol level was several times higher than the legal limit. The police said the preliminary assessment is that the truck driver was driving while fatigued and under the influence of alcohol, and didn't notice the vehicle in front, causing a rear-end collision."

Kiryu Yaya remained silent.

He leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the dim yellow wall lamp in the entryway, but his mind was filled with images.

"Kiryu-kun?"

Keiko Miyazawa's voice pulled him back from his thoughts.

Are you listening?

"I'm listening."

Kiryu Yaya's voice steadied.

"Where are you now?"

"At the hospital."

Keiko Miyazawa lowered her voice.

"Osaka Municipal Medical Center Central Citizen Hospital. The police notified me to come over—to verify my identity."

Kiryu Yaya's fingers tightened slightly.

Are you alone?

"Yes, Mom and Mr. Uesugi are on their way."

At this point, Keiko Miyazawa's voice finally choked with emotion.

"Kiryu-kun—I didn't recognize him when I saw him."

"That face—was completely distorted. The staff asked me to check my belongings, and that's when I realized it was him. His wallet, his phone, and—and an old family photo."

Kiryu Yaya closed his eyes.

He could picture that scene.

Keiko Miyazawa stood in the cold morgue, facing a disfigured body, clutching an old photograph she had found among the body's belongings.

Kiryu Yaya took a deep breath: "Keiko, I'm coming over now."

Keiko Miyazawa was clearly stunned.

"You don't need to—"

Kiryu Yaya didn't say much, only "Wait for me," before hanging up the phone, putting on his coat, and picking up his motorcycle keys again.

The death of Miyazawa Hara.

This is too strange.

He's going to the hospital to get checked out.

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