The Next Day
Time: 1:30 pm
Location: Kavei's house
Scene: Afternoon Silence

Kavei settled comfortably into his favorite spot in front of the television, letting out a small sigh as the warmth from the Kotatsu {a Japanese heater-based table attached underneath the surface of the table. A blanket is placed between the legs and the surface of the table, completing the ensemble} washed over him. He pulled the blanket over his lap, eager to relax after the long, draining morning shift at the restaurant. Reaching for the remote on the table, he clicked the television on, filling the room with the soft hum of the screen as it came to life.

The bright colors and flashing logos of EZR TV faded, replaced by the composed figure of the reporter. It was Hitomi, delivering her report with her usual professionalism and grace. Kavei straightened slightly, his interest piqued as her expression turned serious. EZR TV was Kavei's go-to channel for crime news - they always covered cases quickly and in detail.

"Good afternoon, viewers," Hitomi began, her clear, steady voice filling the room. Kavei immediately raised the volume. "I'm Hitomi, here to report live on a tragic incident. The owner of the tech company, CCRS, Mr. Najima, was found dead this morning in his own home."

Kavei's posture shifted slightly as he heard the news. His eyes focused intently on the screen, curiosity and a flicker of interest flashing across his face. This case could be a welcome escape from the memories of yesterday's chaos. The camera zoomed in on Hitomi's face. "The police were alerted over an hour ago by the first witness," she continued. "Preliminary investigations suggest the cause of death to be a gunshot. Let's hear from the witness who discovered the scene."

Kavei watched as the screen cut to a different shot, now showing a woman standing beside Hitomi. She looked shaken, her hands gripping the microphone tightly, her knuckles pale against the metal.

"Yes," the woman began, her voice soft but unsteady, barely containing her own nerves. "I knocked on the door of the victim's house, but there was no response. After several attempts, I assumed he was asleep and left. However, as I made my way back to my apartment, I heard a faint noise coming from his room." Her voice wavered slightly. "I knocked again, and then there was a loud crash, like glass breaking. I was afraid, so I called security. When the door was opened, we found Mr. Najima... dead."

Kavei stared at the screen, his mind racing as he tried to process the events the witness had just described. A gunshot, the sound of breaking glass-it painted a vivid picture, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. There was always more to the story, and each page needed to be uncovered.

"Thank you for your statement, Yumiya-san," Hitomi said, her tone grave as she acknowledged the witness's contribution. "Stay tuned to EZR TV for further updates on this case."

The screen faded, transitioning to a commercial, but Kavei barely noticed. He leaned forward, his eyes unfocused, his thoughts racing, forming possible theories. The mysterious circumstances surrounding Mister Najima's death gnawed at him; it couldn't have been this simple, or could it?

Inspector Senzaki knelt beside the lifeless body of Mr. Najima, his gloves slipping on with a practiced ease. His eyes, sharp and focused, took in the grim scene before him—the body sprawled across the couch, the heavy stillness of death hanging in the air. The gunshot wounds were clear, though there was something about the whole scene that felt off.

Around him, officers were busy, each one methodically doing their part to collect evidence, flashbulbs popping as they snapped shots of every detail. The cotton swabs they used dusted every corner, every object, every surface in search of fingerprints or traces of the killer. Yet, despite their best efforts, no obvious clues were emerging.

Senzaki's voice sliced through the quiet. "Any weapon?"

"No weapon found, sir," came the response from one of the officers. He looked frustrated, his face tight as he continued tracing the outlines of the wounds on the victim's body.

Senzaki's brow furrowed. The absence of a weapon was unusual, but he didn't let the frustration show. There was no room for it. They'd find something. They always did.

Just then, the deep rumble of a sleek engine broke the silence, drawing everyone's attention. From balconies above and windows cracked open, every eye peeked down at the possible new guests. Senzaki's eyes narrowed as he glanced down from the corridor edge. The black car glided to a stop in front of the apartment. The sound of the door opening echoed softly, and a single heel touched the ground. Out stepped a young woman.

She was dressed in a sharp white suit that contrasted with her dark, tailored black jacket. She wore her confidence like armor, and the black shades she kept on only added to the air of unapproachability that surrounded her.

"Of course she'd show up now." Senzaki exhaled, spun on his heel, and jogged down the stairs. Curious eyes continued watching as Senzaki reached the apartment gates.

He straightened up quickly, bowing low as she approached, his tone polite but tinged with a hint of unease. "Ma'am, if we'd known you were coming, we would have made arrangements to—"

But before he could finish, she waved her hand dismissively, not even breaking her stride. Her voice cut through the air, icy and impatient. "Inspector Senzaki, I come when I like, and I leave when I like. No one has the capability of picking me up or dropping me off at their convenience. Got it?"

Senzaki lowered his gaze, still bowing. "Understood."

The tension in the air thickened as the woman flicked her long black hair back with a casual movement and continued forward. Just behind her, a young man—Kavei—stood, his usual relaxed demeanor unchanged. He leaned against the gate, hands tucked into his loose pockets, dressed in his usual laid-back demeanor and a striking outfit: a green jacket over a pearl-white shirt and crisp white sneakers.

He caught the attention of the prying eyes above, his casualness standing in sharp contrast to the icy woman and the business-like atmosphere.

With a single, sharp voice, Kavei broke the stillness. "You can stand up now, Inspector Senzaki."

The onlookers held their breath in slight excitement, as if watching a soap opera, for this exchange seemed to border on the very lines of interesting. The woman didn't pause. She glanced back, her sharp gaze shifting from the Inspector to Kavei, and she took him in, her lips curving slightly into a mix of disbelief and mild interest. 

Senzaki stood up hastily and rushed past her, ascending the stairs and reaching the victim's house. Kavei exhaled as he followed behind the lady. Senzaki opened the door to the house without a word, waiting for the young lady to enter.

The lady glanced at the open door as she reached, Kavei a few steps behind her, but simply stood in front of the room instead. She snapped her fingers. The sound echoed through the corridor, and suddenly—out of nowhere—an elegant black couch appeared behind her. She sank into it with effortless grace, crossing her legs and leaning back as if this was all just part of her day. The man who had seemingly brought the couch stood beside her, her secretary, Henkai.

Kavei, meanwhile, simply raised an eyebrow at her antics, unfazed by her drama.

With another snap of her fingers, she demanded his attention. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice sharp, almost like a challenge.

"Kavei," he answered, his tone still calm, giving her a casual glance before looking away.

She squinted at him, her voice laced with incredulity. "Do you even know who I am?"

"A lady possibly in her early twenties," he replied, his gaze flicking over her, "a journalist who probably did her nails yesterday."

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, there was an edge to her expression. "Who do you think you are, analyzing me like that?"

"I told you who I am," Kavei said, shrugging as though the whole thing wasn't worth stressing over.

Senzaki, who had been watching the exchange with growing discomfort, hesitated. He glanced between the two, sensing the rising tension in the room. "Kavei Niram," he said, choosing his words carefully as he addressed the lady. "He assists with some of our cases from time to time."

"And Kavei," Senzaki whispered to Kavei. "She is Itsuhara Yukina, a famous detective and journalist." Kavei simply nodded at the introduction. 

The woman, still watching Kavei closely, seemed intrigued now. Her previous irritation was masked by something else—maybe curiosity, or maybe just the desire to challenge him further. She then stood up and took a step forward, leaning in as though to examine him more closely.

"Really?" she asked, her voice cool. "You solve cases, do you?"

Kavei didn't hesitate. "That's the plan."

She studied him for a moment longer, her gaze unwavering, before she stepped even closer, her movements smooth and calculated. Her lips brushed near his ear as she whispered, barely audible, "Then solve this case."

Kavei straightened slightly, his eyes meeting hers with a confident yet casual smile. "Sure," he said simply, accepting the challenge without flinching.

"Good luck," she muttered, her voice cold again.