The piercing rays of light accompanied by an incessant mehchanized
ping-ing noise caused Omoiya to stir from his peaceful slumber. Being not too fond of early wakings, he groaned as he rolled over in his bed to cease the cellphone’s notification. After blindly stretching out a limb at his night table, he slammed a fist against its wooden surface until it came into contact with the cellphone. The boy believed he had finally silenced the device, up to the point it began to emit a series of beeps, followed by an automated voice,
”Dialing number: ‘Risuki Hastomi’” His hand instantly propelled itself to the cellphone with a shout of denial, quickly fumbling with the keys to end the dialup. Omoiya had sat upright to stop the call, now leaning halfway over his bed on the verge of tumbling over. He let out a sigh of relief and chuckled as he propped himself against the headboard.
”That was close. Now, let’s see what Hastomi-san woke me up for.” A yawn escaped his lips as he tapped at the keypad, scrolling through his recent messages until Risuki’s name was highlighted.
'Hey guys, I was wondering if you were free for today. I wanna go to that new water park that opened up a week ago.'It took him a few moments to process the contents of the message in his half-awake state of mind.
”Oh, it’s Saturday, right. I guess I am free today, eh? Well, no reason to keep them waiting!” It was fun to hang out with his small group of friends, a calming getaway from the cases he constantly investigated. All of them each had their own little quirks which made them unique, in his eyes at least. He cuffed his mouth to trap another yawn as he began to type a message on the illuminated screen. Omoiya focused his eyes to see more clearly and watched as more replies popped up. First was Emiko, then Sento, and lastly Yasu. The boy perked up at how slow he was on the draw, but was determined to beat Tamaki and not end up last. He frivolously finished his response and sent it expeditiously.
”Yo! Morning all~, I’m more free than Amazon Prime shipping! Just woke up, so I have some things to clear up first, but I should arrive on time. Just name when, and I’ll be there.” Even through text, Omoiya was able to convey his ecstatic tone of speech.
With the text message sent, Omoiya set out to run through his morning routine. He let out a sigh as he scanned the room, counting all of the piles of papers and books he would need to organize. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and got a decent footing, then boosted himself onto his feet.
"Alright, Omoiya cleanup process: Activate!" He charismatically shouted as motivation, the boy flipped through documents and novels varying from school work to personal investigations. A few of the cases were that of the police, and were tasked to him by his father. The old man was smart enough to employ those who had a talent for cracking mysteries, one of which being his own son. Omoiya was midway through stacking a pile when he suddenly heard a knocking on the door, proceeded by the unhinging of the knob. As the door lightly eased open, in its frame was Omoiya's father, already dressed in his proper attire and a stoic expression on his face.
"Dad! I'm still in my boxers, don't randomly enter without a confirmation of entrance!" The man furrowed his brows and let out a sigh, shaking his head as he thrusted out a folder at his son.
"Your first priority should be to dress and shower, rather than stacking up your homework." After Omoiya scolded the man while wagging his finger, he then accepted the document.
"Recent homicide on the other side of town, dead housewife. We got a call from her neighbors early this morning when they heard some commotion from inside the home. They reported a man fleeing from the front entrance, but it was too dark at the time for them to identify who it was. Could have been the father." As his father continued on with his synopsis, Omoiya indulged himself with the contents of the folder. He grabbed onto the thin paper with his fingertips and unfolded it, producing a few pages of notes alongside a picture of the victim. The woman's face was boldly censored, but the knife impaled in her abdomen was a sight for his eyes. The boy was used to waking up to this kind of ordeal, it had become a weekly routine in his life.
"As you can see, she was stabbed to death, but only once. She was still alive for a few minutes, and tried to call us herself. Turns out she had an affair with her husband, but we can't deduce if that was a reason for killing." Omoiya narrowed his eyes at the picture while sneaking glances at the notes beside it.
"Says here that the back entrance was also open when you all arrived. Could have been two crooks. I'm not saying you should outline the husband, but don't pin him as a definite suspect. His whereabouts are unknown. Maybe he's dead as well? We can't tell until forensics analyze the murder weapon and scene for any traces. This was obviously rushed if they left her alive, chances are it wasn't planned out as intricately as past cases. Multiple individuals could be at fault here, given the fact that two escape routes were used." Omoiya let out another yawn as he began to pick up coffee cups scattered among the carpet, as if seeing a dead body didn't phase him by the slightest.
"Surprised you're already getting used to this kind of stuff, son." The boy paused from his routine and shrugged,
"Well, it's what I'll be doing as a profession in the future. Might as well get used to it. Anyways, I have to go out soon. Got a friendly get-together I have to attend~" He closed the folder with both hands and placed it on his desk, just another parcel in a sea of documents.
"Alright, sounds good. Well, have fun with whatever you are doing, and don't do anything unlawful." Omoiya chuckled at the reminder, it was obvious he wouldn't do anything to tarnish his career. After the door shut behind him, he finished up with cleaning his room, treated himself to a refreshing shower, then dressed himself in his usual casual attire; a pair of dark jeans, a blank white undershirt and a black hoodie. To say the least, he had a better sense of intuition than of style. Afterwards, he treated himself to a cup of coffee and sat down at the desk once again.
"Might as well read into this a bit more, got some time to kill." He mumbled to himself as he exposed the sheets of the murder case once again, his eyes fluently traversed the pages from line to line, side to side, without relent.
"Wonder what everybody else is doing right now?"