Chapter 34: “Police Lights”

The street was drowned in color.

Red. Blue. Red again.

The lights pulsed against the walls of the Hanabusa house, slipping through windows, crawling across the floor like living things. Neighbors stood at a distance, whispering, phones raised, faces half-hidden behind curiosity and fear.

Reika Hanabusa was led out first.

Her wrists were cuffed. Her hair was disheveled, makeup streaked beyond saving. She didn’t resist. She didn’t cry anymore. Her eyes were hollow, fixed on nothing, as if the world had already ended for her and everyone else was simply late to notice.

She didn’t look back.

The police guided her into the car, the door shutting with a dull, final sound.

Only then did the paramedics move.

Rurika was carried out on a stretcher, her body small under the white sheet, oxygen mask fogging faintly with each shallow breath. Her arm dangled limply at her side, a thin bruise already blooming where fingers had once dug in too deep.

Someone murmured her name.

She didn’t respond.

Touko stood in the doorway.

She hadn’t changed her clothes. She hadn’t cried. Her posture was straight, hands folded neatly in front of her, like a polite host seeing guests off after an unpleasant evening.

She watched silently as the stretcher was lifted into the ambulance.

The doors closed.

The engine started.

And for just a moment, as the vehicle pulled away, Touko’s lips curved upward.

It was small. Barely there.

Like satisfaction.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke the stillness.

“Touko!”

Kei pushed through the thin line of onlookers, his face pale, eyes darting from the police cars to the ambulance, then finally landing on her. He crossed the distance in seconds and gripped her shoulders, hands firm but shaking.

“What happened here?” he asked. “Why are there police— Touko, are you hurt?”

She looked up at him.

Her eyes were clear. Dry. Too calm for a scene like this.

“I’m fine, Papa,” she said softly.

Kei searched her face, panic tightening his chest. “Then what—?”

Touko turned her gaze back to the street, to the fading lights, to the empty space where Rurika had been moments ago.

“People who hurt their families,” she said gently, almost thoughtfully, “should be removed.”

Kei froze.

The words were quiet. Reasonable. Spoken like a simple truth, the way one might comment on the weather.

Yui arrived behind him, breathless, horror written plainly across her face as she took in the scene.

“Oh my god…” she whispered.

Touko stepped closer to Kei, resting her forehead briefly against his chest, like a child seeking comfort after a long day.

“It’s over now,” she said. “You don’t need to worry anymore.”

Kei wrapped his arms around her without thinking, his heart still racing, unease crawling up his spine though he couldn’t explain why.

Behind them, the last police car pulled away.

The street slowly returned to normal.

But Touko didn’t look back again.

She already knew nothing here would ever touch her family the same way.

Not anymore.