Kanjuro listened quietly to her confession, his deep eyes showing no ripples of emotion. He took a step forward, his fingertips provocatively lifting her chin, his voice laced with cold mockery: "That's quite a moving story. Unfortunately... I still don't believe you."
These words became the final straw that broke Tomoko Suzuki.
The obsession accumulated over eighteen years intertwined with her current panic, forging a desperate courage.
She suddenly grabbed the hand he had on her face, and with her other hand, she tremblingly tore open the buttons of her silk shirt. The pearl-white buttons fell onto the carpet with faint thuds.
"You want evidence, don't you?" With tears in her eyes, she wore a smile that was almost hauntingly beautiful. "This is my answer... Since that night eighteen years ago, I have never again..."
She choked up and couldn't continue, merely standing on her tiptoes to bury her burning face in the crook of his neck, touching his cold skin.
Memories sealed by time came rushing back—the flickering candlelight in the Basement, the demonic aura of the youth, and the palpitations she felt back then, a mix of fear and surrender.
"That night you only stayed for ten minutes... because you had to go to..." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "But those ten minutes made me remember for a full eighteen years..."
Kanjuro allowed her to hold him, his eyes downcast as he scrutinized the mature and graceful body in his arms.
His icy fingers slowly stroked her back, causing a series of shivers.
"Is that so?" His deep voice resonated in the silent study. "Then let me see if your body is still as... familiar as it was back then."
The words were like a decree. Tomoko Suzuki looked up, her eyes flashing with a mix of joy and humiliation through her tears, and she nodded obediently.
Her meticulously styled bun came undone, and her chestnut hair cascaded down like a waterfall, enveloping their intertwined figures.
When everything returned to silence.
Tomoko Suzuki lay on the mahogany desk with her clothes in disarray, her fingertips still tightly clutching the torn fabric.
Kanjuro stood in the shadows adjusting his clothes, his expression still distant, as if the intimate encounter just now was merely a routine matter.
A flash of lightning suddenly streaked outside the window, its pale light illuminating the cold, hard lines of his profile.
Tomoko Suzuki gazed at this man whom she had both loved and feared for half her life; in a daze, she seemed to turn back into that helpless, trembling girl in the Basement.
Raindrops began to drum against the glass pane, echoing that night eighteen years ago. The lingering scent of intimacy seemed to flow in the air of the study. Tomoko Suzuki straightened her disheveled clothes, the flush on her cheeks not yet fully faded, as she stole complex glances at Kanjuro. Just then, she saw Kanjuro's gaze turn toward the expensive grand piano in the corner of the study.
He walked over slowly, elegantly lifted the fallboard, his long fingers lightly brushing the black and white keys, and then sat down.
Tomoko Suzuki's mouth hung open slightly in surprise. (He... knows how to play the piano?)
This demon-like existence seemed somewhat disconnected from the figure in her memory who controlled everything in the dark Basement. However, the next second, when Kanjuro's fingers fell, a clear and beautiful melody poured from the keys like flowing water, interrupting all her thoughts.
He was playing Debussy's "Clair de Lune." The piano music was gentle and hazy, carrying a hint of faint melancholy and dreamlike tranquility. Each note was like the rain outside growing denser, lightly tapping on the heart, or like moonlight piercing through dark clouds to cast a silver glow.
Tomoko Suzuki was completely stunned. Looking at Kanjuro's profile as he sat at the piano—his upright posture, lowered eyes, and focused expression—set against the dim light and beautiful music, he truly looked like a prince stepped out of a fairy tale: noble, elegant, and possessing a charm that seemed untouched by the mortal world. This formed a massive contrast with his coldness just moments ago and his demonic nature from eighteen years ago, creating a fatal attraction.
Her heart began to beat violently and uncontrollably, more chaotically than during their intimacy. She gazed at him blankly, the fear, calculation, and humiliation in her eyes gradually replaced by a pure, almost overflowing tenderness. This music, this scene, shattered all her solid defenses and awakened the softest, most vulnerable part of her heart.
The music slowed, like moonlight fading into the clouds, ending with lingering emotions. The last note dissipated in the air, leaving the study in silence, save for the pitter-patter of the rain outside.
As if pulled by invisible threads, Tomoko Suzuki walked forward involuntarily. She gently hugged Kanjuro from behind, pressing her burning cheek against his broad but slightly cool back, her voice carrying a dreamlike sob and total infatuation:
"Kanjuro... I... I love you... I really love you so much... Since eighteen years ago, I have never stopped... I know I'm unseemly, I know I'm not worthy of you... but..." Her confession was incoherent, yet filled with the sincerity of many years of suppression.
Kanjuro did not push her away immediately, nor did he respond to her embrace. He let her hold him, feeling the trembling and warmth coming from behind. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice gentler than ever before, capable of bewitching one's soul just like the music:
"Tomoko..."
He called her name softly, without the previous sarcasm, leaving only an intimate whisper.
"Right now, you already possess the status and wealth that many people dream of, and you control the Suzuki Conglomerate, don't you?"
Tomoko Suzuki nodded vigorously against his back, not understanding why he suddenly mentioned this.
The corners of Kanjuro's mouth curled into a cold, calculating arc at an angle she couldn't see, but his voice remained so gentle it could practically drip with sweetness:
"Since you have already obtained these things... then, why don't we take it a step further?"
He turned his head slightly, and with that charming, magical voice—like a demon whispering in her ear—he proposed the suggestion that would completely drag Tomoko Suzuki into the abyss:
"Why don't we... join forces and completely 'hollow out' the Suzuki Family? Let you become the true and sole controller. And I will... help you."
These words were light, yet they were like a thunderclap exploding in the lake of Tomoko Suzuki's heart, which had been overflowing with tenderness! She jerked her head up, looking incredulously at Kanjuro's profile so close to her. In those deep eyes, she saw the reflection of her own face, which had instantly turned pale and was a mix of alarm and... ignited ambition.
The resonance of the piano seemed to still echo in her ears, while a darker, more seductive future had already pulled back a corner of its veil before her. Kanjuro's proposal to "hollow out" the Suzuki Family was like ice water poured onto Tomoko Suzuki's burning heart, instantly snapping her out of her sweet reverie.
"This... this wouldn't be right, would it?" She instinctively shrunk back, her voice carrying hesitation and a trace of remaining conscience. "Shiro... he is a good man, after all. He gave me and the children a name and protection. Although it was just an agreement, he never mistreated us..."
She tried to use Shiro Suzuki's "goodness" to construct a final line of defense.
Hearing this, the gentle mask on Kanjuro's face didn't change at all, but his eyes darkened a few shades. He reached out and gently stroked Tomoko Suzuki's reddened cheek, his movements intimate, but his tone carried an unquestionable possessiveness:
"A good man?" He chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "No matter how good he is, he cannot be allowed to hold the title of 'Tomoko Suzuki's husband.' Even if it's only in name, even if things between you are perfectly clean... I won't allow it."
His fingertip slid across her chin, carrying the weight of a declaration of ownership.
Tomoko Suzuki stared at him blankly. Suddenly, an indescribable emotion, a mix of wild joy and bitterness, surged in her heart. She grabbed Kanjuro's hand that was stroking her cheek, her eyes shining with an almost girlish brilliance, her tone carrying an unbelievable excitement:
"Kanjuro... are you... are you jealous? Are you jealous because of Shiro?"
This realization made her feel as if she had suddenly returned to age eighteen—that age when her heart first fluttered, when she would be ecstatic over a tiny ripple of emotion from the other person. She forgot the danger before her, forgot their respective identities, and only felt her heart filled with a massive, distorted sense of happiness.
Kanjuro took the opportunity to pull her close, making her press tightly against his chest. He looked down into her infatuated eyes and, with that gentle voice capable of drowning any reason, asked again:
"Yes, I'm jealous. So, Tomoko, tell me... are you willing? Are you willing to clear away this eyesore for me?"
His words were like the sweetest poison, pouring into Tomoko Suzuki's ears and striking directly at her already crumbling mental defenses. She looked at the face so close to her—as handsome as a deity yet as wicked as a demon—and those deep eyes seemed to contain a vortex, threatening to suck in her very soul.
What remained of her conscience and her faint guilt toward Shiro Suzuki seemed utterly insignificant in the face of Kanjuro's "Are you willing?" and his so-called "jealousy." Her pathological obsession with Kanjuro, her ambition to absolutely control the Suzuki Conglomerate, and a frantic desire to completely cut ties with the past and belong entirely to this man finally won out.
She bit her lower lip, the last trace of hesitation in her eyes replaced by fanatical determination. She nodded forcefully, her voice trembling yet incredibly clear:
"I am willing! Kanjuro, I am willing to do anything for you! As long as it's what you want, I'll do it!"
Seeing her complete submission, the corners of Kanjuro's mouth curled up with satisfaction. He lowered his head, leaning close to her ear, and issued the first command—one that would thoroughly bind her to his chariot—in a magnetic and seductive whisper:
"Very good. Then, from now on, when there are no outsiders around... call me 'Master'."
Tomoko Suzuki's body trembled slightly, and her cheeks instantly flushed crimson, but a strange light flashed in her eyes—a brilliance mixed with shame and excitement. Obediently, in a tone bordering on a moan, she softly called out:
"Yes... Master... So, you like this... Master Kanjuro..."
That word "Master" pleased Kanjuro. He let out a low, pleasant laugh, as if watching a most interesting toy fall completely under his control.
"Hahaha... Good, very good, my Tomoko."
In the time that followed, the study was no longer filled with ambiguous intimacy, but with the whispers of conspiracy. The two snuggled together like inseparable lovers, yet their conversation revolved around how to meticulously plan an "accident," how to step-by-step cannibalize the power of the Suzuki Conglomerate, and how to make that "good man" named Shiro Suzuki quietly disappear from their world.
Sweet talk intertwined with murder plans; tender affection ran parallel to cold calculation. Tomoko Suzuki had completely succumbed to the dark dream woven for her by Kanjuro—a dream built of desire, ambition, and distorted love—willingly becoming the sharpest and most obedient blade in his hand. Outside the window, the rain fell harder, as if washing away the impending sins.
Hearing Kanjuro bluntly and coldly propose the word "murder," Tomoko Suzuki's heart couldn't help but shrink sharply, despite her resolve. Leaning in his arms, she looked up and asked, "Then... Master, what exactly should we do? Is there a... reliable countermeasure?" She was, after all, accustomed to the schemes of the business world; she still felt an instinctive fear toward such direct violence.
Kanjuro's fingers idly twirled a strand of her hair, his eyes deep as if scrutinizing a complex chess game. He didn't answer directly, but instead asked a seemingly unrelated question:
"Tomoko, what's the situation with Ayako... right now? I heard she seems to have an engagement?"
Though puzzled by his meaning, Tomoko Suzuki answered honestly, "Yes, with the eldest son of the Tomizawa Conglomerate, Yuzo Tomizawa. It's an engagement that was settled long ago, more of a business alliance. Ayako is a gentle child; though she lacks passion for it, she has never opposed it."
The corners of Kanjuro's mouth slowly curled into a calculating arc, a smile that was cold and dangerous.
"Oh? The Tomizawa Family... interesting." He looked down at the woman in his arms, his gaze sharp. "Then, if... I were to pretend to pursue Ayako and develop a 'romance' with her, what consequences do you think that would trigger?"
Tomoko Suzuki was stunned for a moment, then instantly understood his intention. A flash of shock and a... trace of indescribable, complex emotion crossed her eyes. Being a shrewd businesswoman, she immediately saw the key point:
"This... this would trigger a massive conflict!" she analyzed quickly. "First, the Tomizawa Family would never let it slide; it would seriously damage the relationship and joint projects between our families. Second, Shiro... though he is indifferent toward me and our daughters, he places extreme importance on the Suzuki Family's reputation and established business alliances. He absolutely would not tolerate such a breach of engagement that brings shame to the Suzuki name! He would definitely oppose it vehemently, and might even... use forceful means to stop you or pressure Ayako."
"Exactly so." Kanjuro nodded with satisfaction, as if everything was within his grasp. "My appearance and my 'pursuit' of Ayako will be like a wedge driven ruthlessly between you and Shiro Suzuki, and between the Suzuki and Tomizawa families. It will exacerbate all potential conflicts, drawing Shiro Suzuki's full attention and causing him to lose his composure out of anger and anxiety."
He paused, his tone becoming even more nonchalant, yet carrying a lethal chill:
"When everyone's eyes are focused on this 'emotional dispute,' when Shiro Suzuki is in a heated conflict with you because of me and Ayako, and when the outside world believes this is a domestic conflict triggered by a 'future son-in-law's' lack of integrity..."
He gazed into Tomoko Suzuki's gradually brightening eyes and revealed the final plan:
"...That will be the best time. Find a suitable 'accident' to make him disappear forever. At that point, the focus of everyone's suspicion will naturally fall on the 'wife' who was at odds with him and had a motive due to her daughter being 'insulted,' or on me, the culprit who'seduced' his daughter. But in any case, suspicion does not equal evidence, does it?"
Hearing this, Tomoko Suzuki finally fully understood Kanjuro's entire layout. It was a move to divert the trouble and a feint to the east while attacking the west. By actively placing himself in the position of a suspect, Kanjuro was actually creating the perfect conditions for her, the true co-conspirator, to act and escape.
"But... if that's the case, wouldn't you be heavily suspected, Master? You might even be investigated..." Tomoko Suzuki was still somewhat worried.
Upon hearing this, Kanjuro let out a low laugh full of pleasure and anticipation.
"Suspected? Investigated?" A light bordering on excitement flickered in his eyes—the kind of exhilaration one feels when facing a challenge. "My dear Tomoko, don't you think that makes it even more interesting?"
He gently lifted her chin, his tone carrying a chilling composure:
"I'm looking forward to... having a good contest with those so-called Great Detectives. We'll see if they can see through my performance, or if I can play them in the palm of my hand."
His confidence and madness completely infected Tomoko Suzuki, dispelling her last trace of concern. She looked at him with obsession, as if watching a performer about to step onto a magnificent stage.
"I understand, Master." She snuggled into his arms, her voice carrying a hint of trembling excitement. "I will cooperate with you to make this 'emotional drama' realistic enough to cause an uproar. And then... wait for the perfect moment."
The details of the conspiracy were sketched out clearly in the rainy night of the study. Kanjuro would not only use Ayako's engagement as a fuse to ignite the conflict but also viewed this upcoming murder as the start of a mental game with potential opponents (such as Shinichi Kudo). Meanwhile, Tomoko Suzuki willingly became the most important and obedient piece in his dark chess game.
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