Tokyo, 1991: Starting as a bank clerk

Chapter 193 Miyazawa Residence [Seeking Monthly Tickets]

The next morning.

Kiryu Yaya stood in front of the balcony door of the apartment, looking at the sky outside the window.

The rain has stopped, and the air is filled with the scent of earth and grass, along with a slight chill blowing in from the direction of Yodokawa.

He barely slept last night, his mind filled with clues he had pieced together from Miyazawa Hara's suicide note.

East Council, Rinku Castle, Kansai International Airport, Koudahiko, Kuroda Shuichi —

These names and place names intertwine like a spider web, slowly forming a clue map.

Just after seven o'clock, Kiryu Yaya went to the bathroom to take a shower and changed into a dark suit.

Today is Sunday.

It was supposed to be a dinner date with Keiko Miyazawa, but because of Hara Miyazawa's death, it was clear that I wouldn't be able to get a free meal.

of course.

Kiryu Yaya didn't have that intention either.

However, he was going to visit the Miyazawa family as usual today, because he was going to the Ashiya old house in Miyazawahara with Miyazawa Keiko.

Let's see what clues he left behind.

Kiryu Yaya arrived at the apartment building, hopped on his Honda SuperCub50, and stepped on the start lever.

Keiko Miyazawa immediately gave him the address: 12 Kurenaiku-rakuen-shibancho.

Kiryu Yaya has heard of the Paradise of Suffering.

This is one of the "Seven Gardens of Nishinomiya" developed from the Taisho to the early Showa period, and is a well-known high-end residential area in the Kansai region.

It's no wonder they're from the Miyazawa family.

rich.

It takes about forty minutes to travel from Ezaka to Nishinomiya.

On a quiet Sunday morning, traffic was light on National Route 2. Kiryu Yaya rode his little black motorcycle westward along the south bank of the Yodo River.

He turned onto a side road near Sukawa Station and began climbing the hill.

The hedges on both sides of the Bitter Paradise were trimmed very neatly.

Rows of Japanese-Western eclectic mansions are nestled behind greenery, occasionally revealing a glimpse of their dark gray tiled roofs.

The nameplates on the gateposts mostly have two characters—

"Tanaka", "Matsumoto", "Takahashi".

Occasionally, even older surnames are engraved on the bronze plaques, the characters worn away by time.

Kiryu Yaya slowed down and went from house to house, following the house numbers.

Shiban Town.

He turned into a narrower alley, with towering stone walls on both sides, and a few pine branches and maple leaves peeking out from the top of the walls.

Deep in the alley, he saw the wrought iron gate.

The bronze plaque on the gatepost is engraved with two characters: "Miyazawa".

right here.

He parked his motorcycle on the roadside outside the door, took off his helmet and hung it on the handlebars, walked to the door, and pressed the intercom button.

"Who is it?"

A middle-aged woman's voice came through the walkie-talkie, slightly hoarse.

"Kiryu Yaya of Mitsubishi Bank has made an appointment with Ms. Keiko."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie.

Then, the iron gate opened automatically with a low click.

Kiryu Yaya pushed open the iron gate and walked into the courtyard.

This was the first time he had actually stepped into the Miyazawa family's main residence.

The yard was much bigger than he had imagined.

A stone-paved path leads from the main gate to the entrance hall, with neatly trimmed lawns and several graceful black pines on both sides.

Directly opposite the entrance, there is a small stone lantern, next to which is a squatting stool covered with moss.

He walked to the front door, but before he could ring the doorbell, the door was pulled open from the inside.

Standing behind the door is Keiko Miyazawa's mother, Yumi Miyazawa.

She was wearing a plain-colored loungewear set with a light gray cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders.

Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes were red and swollen.

They clearly haven't recovered from last night's blow.

Even so, she still managed to force a nearly polite smile: "Kiryu-kun—please come in."

"Sorry to bother you."

Kiryu Yaya bowed slightly, took off his shoes, put on the slippers prepared in the entryway, and followed her into the living room.

The living room was simpler than he had imagined.

A traditional Chinese ink painting hangs in the niche, depicting the scenery of Jishui, with its layered mountains and cascading waterfalls.

Autumn leaves dot the landscape.

A simple lily was placed next to it, its white petals appearing particularly pure in the morning light.

"Huizi is still upstairs."

Yumi Miyazawa led him to sit down on the sofa, her voice tinged with apology: "She barely slept last night, and got up very early this morning to finalize the details of Hara's funeral. I told her to rest a little longer, but she refused."

"It's okay, I'll wait for her."

Kiryu Yaya sat down on the sofa, his gaze falling on the ink painting.

Yumi Miyazawa followed his gaze and lowered her voice: "That was Keiko's father's favorite painting."

"Long would go to Jimian to sketch every autumn, and this painting was the last one he painted before he became seriously ill."

She paused, and her eyes reddened again.

"He said he would take Keiko to Mino again once he recovered, but unfortunately—"

Yumi Miyazawa paused, then didn't continue.

Kiryu Yaya gently pursed his lips: "Please accept my condolences."

Yumi Miyazawa shook her head: "I'm sorry to have troubled you, Kiryu-kun. I'll go call Keiko."

Kiryu Yaya nodded, and after watching Miyazawa Yumi go upstairs, his gaze fell on the painting.

The painting depicts the serene and secluded Jishui Mountain, with a waterfall cascading down a precipice amidst a misty haze.

The stream meanders through the valley, with layers of maple leaves of varying shades on both banks.

The drawing is indeed very good.

After a while, footsteps came from the direction of the stairs.

Kiryu Yaya turned his head.

Keiko Miyazawa walked down the stairs.

She was wearing a dark gray suit, her hair was pulled back, and her makeup was very light, though it was clear that she had tried to cover it up, but it couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes.

"Kiryu-kun, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Kiryu Yaya shook his head: "I just arrived recently."

Keiko Miyazawa nodded and turned to her mother: "Mom, Kiryu-kun and I are going to Uncle's house."

Yumi Miyazawa nodded gently, without asking any further questions. She simply walked up to her daughter and straightened her collar.

"Be careful on the road."

"Um."

Keiko Miyazawa took her mother's hand, patted it gently, then let go and turned to walk towards the entrance.

Kiryu Yaya followed behind her.

The two changed their shoes and stepped out of the entryway.

Yumi Miyazawa stood at the door, watching them cross the courtyard until the iron gate closed, before slowly turning back.

Kiryu Yaya hopped onto the motorcycle, started the engine, patted the back seat, and said with a smile, "Get on, young lady."

Keiko Miyazawa took a light breath, turned sideways and sat in the back seat, wrapping her arms around his waist without any hesitation.

Kiryu Yaya didn't say anything, but reminded him, "Hold on tight, don't fall."

'

""

The motorcycle sputtered out of the high-rise residential area of ​​Kurenai-rakuen Shibancho, descended the mountain along the road it had come from, and merged into the traffic on National Route 43.

From Nishinomiya to Ashiya, it's only a ten-minute walk west along the coastline.

Ashiya City has a similar topography to Nishinomiya, both being backed by mountains and facing the sea, and both being high-altitude residential areas.

Miyazawahara's house is located on the mountainside of Ashiya.

It is also a two-story building with a Japanese-Western eclectic style.

The gray exterior walls and dark gray tiled roof are nestled in a dense forest.

From the outside, it looks even more impressive than Takashi Miyazawa's residence.

But at this moment, the gate was tightly closed, and the courtyard was empty, exuding a desolate atmosphere of deserted buildings.

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