The Fifth of the Seven Deadly Sins

Kita Hikaru carefully tugged her sleeve down, hiding the bluish bruises beneath her police uniform. Her movement was subtle, but in the bustling police station, one pair of eyes caught her small gesture.

Just then, Chiyu Igarashi, who had just arrived for her shift, approached her. “Miss Kita, I have some ointment in my office that works wonders on bruises.”

Kita Hikaru recoiled like a startled rabbit, pulling her right hand behind her back. Chiyu Igarashi smiled gently. “Miss Kita, you’re well past the age of being scolded by your parents for tripping on your way home from school. I’ll bring you the ointment. Please be more careful next time and try not to fall again.”

Kita Hikaru stared blankly at Chiyu Igarashi’s retreating figure. A moment later, Igarashi returned with the ointment and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” Kita Hikaru murmured, her voice faint, nothing like the crisp, decisive officer she usually was.

After accepting the ointment, she looked up beseechingly. “Please don’t tell the others about my injury, all right?”

“Why? Oh, I see. It must be embarrassing for a police officer to be injured over something so trivial. Don’t worry, I won’t mention it to anyone. But please, Miss Kita, do take care of yourself. No matter how tough a police officer is, every woman should cherish her own body.”

Chiyu Igarashi’s smile was warm as she put on her mask and headed back to the forensics lab.

“Every woman should cherish herself…” As Kita Hikaru processed files, the words echoed bitterly in her mind.

“Hikari, how about joining me for a spa after work?” Chika Koide asked with enthusiasm, eyes alight.

“Sorry, I have to go home and prepare dinner,” Kita Hikaru replied, shaking her head.

“Oh right, I nearly forgot—you’re already a devoted wife. I wonder which lucky man managed to marry such a beautiful woman. Hikari, your husband must treat you well, doesn’t he? If I had a wife like you, the first thing I’d do after work would be to devour you!” Chika Koide laughed merrily.

Kita Hikaru managed a token smile, then left the station as if fleeing.

Night had not yet fallen, but couples on the street were already walking hand in hand, stealing kisses when no one was looking. Kita Hikaru’s heart was full of sighs. She and Shin Miyazawa had once been just as affectionate; back then, hope filled everything, and the world returned their love with gentleness. They believed their love would endure like Mount Fuji. But in just three short years, everything changed.

Sometimes, Kita Hikaru wondered if, had she not impulsively wanted to see the penguins at the aquarium that day, things would have remained perfect.

Shin Miyazawa always fulfilled her every wish—even a casual remark from her would prompt him to sneak off work and surprise her at their rented apartment.

A speeding truck, herself shoved aside, the kneeling driver begging forgiveness, the cold, clinical report of permanent injury, the man in the wheelchair, silent and withdrawn.

Kita Hikaru had never had the patience for such melodrama, even in fiction. Only when tragedy struck her did she realize that true tragedy is so devastating because it arrives without warning and is utterly inescapable.

Since then, she had never seen Shin Miyazawa smile—not even at their wedding, where he sat wordless, drinking alone in his wheelchair.

Having lost his job, Shin Miyazawa became despondent. He stopped talking to friends and, after the wedding, never left the apartment again. The pitying stares of others wounded his pride so deeply that he preferred to drown in the haze of alcohol.

Kita Hikaru had pleaded with him through tears not to give up, and though he tried to pull himself together, what respect could a man command in such a cold world when even leaving the house was an ordeal?

“It’s all your fault! If not for you, I wouldn’t be stuck in a wheelchair—a useless cripple!” Shin Miyazawa would rage, smashing bottles against the floor, shards of glass reflecting Kita Hikaru’s shattered heart.

First came the abuse, then the violence. Consumed by anger, Shin Miyazawa lost all reason. He hated everything, and Kita Hikaru, sharing the same roof, became the focal point of his resentment.

She grew numb over time. Whenever a bottle shattered, she instinctively shielded herself, silently enduring the pain. No one knew whether this was penance for guilt or the weakness of misplaced compassion.

The acrid stench of alcohol filled the air, and the lock rasped harshly as she turned the key. When the brass cylinder was nearly out of the lock, she saw Shin Miyazawa passed out on the floor.

“I’m home,” she announced, but only his heavy snores replied.

She wasn’t surprised. Without a word, she began cleaning up the mess.

The aroma of fried eggs roused Shin Miyazawa. He yawned, dragging his lifeless lower body toward the crate of liquor.

Kita Hikaru turned off the stove and tried to help him up.

“Get lost!” he snarled, shoving her away.

The sound of fabric scraping against the floor was grating in the tiny apartment. Finally, Shin Miyazawa seized a bottle, took a swig, and choked on the harsh liquor. Kita Hikaru gazed blankly at the unkempt man before her, wondering if this was truly the man she had once wanted to spend her life with.

“Why are you so late?” Shin Miyazawa asked, eating his eggs.

“I was home by six today, too,” she replied, cautious.

“Nonsense! It’s seven already!” he exploded, hurling his chopsticks at her chest.

“When I came home at six, you were still sleeping,” she replied, unconsciously stepping back.

Those two steps back enraged him. He threw whatever he could grab at her.

“You’re trying to say I just drink and sleep all day, aren’t you? That I’m useless? Well, I am! And it’s all your fault! All your fault!”

“No, I…” She tried to explain, but a ceramic bowl crashed into her shoulder.

The cramped apartment was soon filled with shouts and sobs, just like every night before.

The next day, Kita Hikaru went to work as usual. She wanted to take the day off, but her job was their only source of income.

No matter how much she tried to hide it, Chiyu Igarashi could sense something was wrong.

“Miss Kita, what happened to your shoulder?” he asked, feigning concern.

“It’s nothing, I just twisted it,” she replied, unable to meet his gaze.

“Miss Kita, these aren’t the kind of injuries you get from twisting—it looks like blunt force trauma. Did you run into a suspect yesterday?” he pressed, frowning.

“No, leave me alone. It’s my own business.” Kita Hikaru was frightened and tried to walk away, but he grabbed her sleeve.

“Miss Kita, I heard from Miss Chika that you’re married, is that true?”

“Yes, I am. Please stop asking these questions—they’re making me uncomfortable,” she said, pulling away. But his next words made her freeze.

“I suspect the person causing you distress is your husband, isn’t it?” Chiyu Igarashi’s tone turned serious.

“Even a husband has no right to treat his wife this way. This is domestic violence, Miss Kita—and as a police officer, you must know it’s a crime.”

“Please don’t tell anyone. I… I let it happen,” Kita Hikaru pleaded, flustered.

“He was meant to be your partner for life. Not only has he failed to keep his promises, but he abuses you. Do you still love such a man?” Chiyu Igarashi was visibly angry.

Kita Hikaru faltered, but Chiyu Igarashi pressed on. “If you don’t promise me something, I’ll have no choice but to call the police.”

She looked up and met his compassionate gaze.

“I’ve admired you for a long time, Miss Kita. I was heartbroken when I heard you were married. But you don’t deserve this. My affection for you hasn’t changed—I want to give you the gentle love the world has denied you.”

His gentle voice and heartfelt gaze stirred something inside her numb heart.

“This afternoon, I’ll take the day off. I want you to spend it with me.”

He didn’t give her time to hesitate. Mask in place, he disappeared into the forensics lab.

The morning slipped by in a haze of anxiety, and in the end, Kita Hikaru left the station at his side.

This is for Shin, she told herself. I’m not betraying him. But a woman’s heart is ruled by emotion.

Compared to Shin Miyazawa, who was always furious and saw her as the source of his misery, Chiyu Igarashi’s gentle understanding quietly invaded her heart.

At first, she was afraid and considered refusing his invitation at the hotel, but nothing she feared happened. Chiyu Igarashi had prepared everything meticulously, like a boy on his first date, his eyes shining with pure affection, untouched by desire. Under his care, Kita Hikaru felt cherished once more.

He was not only handsome but witty and charming as well. That afternoon, for the first time since Shin’s accident, Kita Hikaru smiled—her bruised heart slowly beginning to heal.

A woman’s deepest wish is simply to be loved. Every woman craves love, regardless of age or status.

As dusk cloaked the city, Kita Hikaru remembered she had to return home. Chiyu Igarashi, to her surprise, did not try to keep her. He looked at her tenderly, “Hikari, you’ll forget him—perhaps in months, perhaps in years. The world may know eternal hatred, but love fades unless nurtured. I’ll wait for you no matter when you make your choice.”

She could not recall how she got home. Torn between guilt and the longing to be loved, she was lost in turmoil.

The first thing Chiyu Igarashi did after removing his mask was call Koji Shiina.

“What is it?” came the response.

“I need you to deliver something for me.”

A pause. “Alright.”

This routine continued for a week. Every day, Chiyu Igarashi sought her out—talking about a bouquet he’d seen, gifting her a keychain bearing her surname, offering homemade cakes that looked rough but tasted surprisingly good.

The station and the apartment seemed like two different worlds—tenderness and devotion in one, abuse and disdain in the other. Even animals seek what is best for them; how could a person do otherwise?

The explosion of conflict came sooner than expected.

“Why are you so late tonight?” Shin Miyazawa asked, his familiar accusation.

Kita Hikaru hesitated; she had, in fact, lingered an hour after work to dine with Chiyu Igarashi.

That moment’s hesitation unleashed the beast within Shin. “You faithless whore—out with one of your lovers?”

Anger surged in Kita Hikaru. She had never crossed the line with Chiyu Igarashi; they were no more than close friends.

“I can’t satisfy you, so you go to other men. Why not bring them home? Maybe watching you together would cure me.” Drunk, Shin Miyazawa tried to slap her, forgetting his lower body was useless, and fell awkwardly to the floor.

Kita Hikaru moved to help him, but he grabbed her, pinning her down and squeezing her throat with all his might, eyes bloodshot with endless rage. “Die, you wretch!”

As she struggled for breath, instinct took over. Training as a police officer, she twisted his wrist, causing him to release her.

Coughing, hand at her throat, Kita Hikaru knew—her beloved had just tried to kill her. The last glimmer of hope in her heart was extinguished.

She might have endured the darkness, had she not seen the light. Chiyu Igarashi was not her savior—he had merely awakened her self-respect.

Years of pent-up anger erupted. “Why? Why blame me for everything? What have I done wrong? You’re just helpless and put it all on me. I’m divorcing you. I want a divorce.”

Without another glance at the man who had so deeply disappointed her, Kita Hikaru left, determined to embrace someone who truly loved her.

“You can’t leave me,” Shin Miyazawa’s voice edged into madness.

A sense of danger made Kita Hikaru turn, but it was already too late.

The black barrel of a gun pointed at her. She fell heavily to the floor, and finally, another scent replaced the stench of alcohol in that apartment—the mingling of smoke and blood. Shin Miyazawa, suddenly sobered, stared at the body lying in the pool of blood.

He recalled the courier that afternoon, who had handed him a package and said, “Don’t make a choice you’ll regret.”

But when he saw the gun, the tragedy’s finale had already begun.

Hikari, don’t be afraid. I’ll join you in that world. There, I won’t be crippled; I’ll be worthy of loving you. I’ll make it up to you.

Before the police arrived, a second gunshot rang out in the brilliant lights of Tokyo.