RL Chapter 23

Chapter 23 – Makeshift Headquarters

Resonance 3, Part 1

Novel Title: 共鳴劣情 オメガバース (Resonance Lust: Omegaverse)

Author：岩本薫 (Iwamoto Kaoru)

Illustrator: 蓮川愛 (Hasukawa Ai)

Translator: K (@kin0monogatari)

Protagonists: 本浄天音 (Honjou Amane) & 苅谷煌騎 (Kariya Kouki) / 首藤煌騎 (Shutou Kouki)

*Please read at knoxt.space, the original site of translation. TQ*

֍֍֍

The following day, despite it being their day off, Amane and Kouki decided to devote their time to investigating Aya’s death.

Their makeshift ‘investigation headquarters’ was Amane’s downtown apartment.

Amane hadn’t been entirely comfortable with letting Kouki into his apartment during his heat period, but they needed a base separate from the D-East Station. If their superiors or colleagues found out they were digging into a case outside their jurisdiction—especially one that had already been closed as a suicide—they’d likely face disciplinary action.

Kouki lived with his parents, who didn’t approve of his job. Although they considered using a shared office space, the presence of too many people made it hard to maintain privacy.

Considering these factors, they concluded that Amane’s apartment was the best option.

Amane had warned Kouki the previous night, “For the next week, no matter what happens, you absolutely must not touch me.” As long as they avoided resonance heat, they could work together as usual. Plus, Kouki likely wanted to avoid breaking up their partnership.

(I took the suppressant first thing in the morning. I’ll be fine…)

While telling himself this, there was a knock on the door exactly at the agreed-upon time of 10 a.m. It was Kouki.

“Good morning.”

Amane opened the door and welcomed his partner in with a “Thank you for your hard work.” Although it was their day off, Kouki was dressed sharply in a tailored three-piece suit. In contrast, Amane was in his usual attire: a long-sleeved white cut-and-sewn top paired with black denim.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

It had been two months since Kouki last stepped into this apartment. He took in the room with a sense of nostalgia, murmuring, “It hasn’t changed at all.”

“Hasn’t it?”

Following Kouki’s gaze, Amane also looked around the familiar room. It was a square room enclosed by concrete walls and ceiling. The floor was dark, aged wooden planks, and an old ceiling fan rotated lazily above. Although it was a one-room apartment, there was a loft accessible by an iron ladder that served as the sleeping area.

The building itself was an old, somewhat run-down apartment complex. But it attracted individualistic residents who minded their own business, which Amane liked. He’d been living there for seven years.

When he was assigned to the D-East Station, his priorities in searching for an apartment were affordability and proximity to his workplace. Things like the building’s age, layout, or sunlight didn’t matter to him.

To Amane, as long as the apartment provided shelter from the elements, a place to sleep, a shower, and a toilet, it was enough. This mindset might be rooted in his upbringing: he’d lived in a brothel until his mother passed away, in abandoned buildings in the slums, and then in a dormitory after being taken in by a church. After gaining independence, his top concern was finding a place he could afford with his part-time job earnings, and he had no room to care about anything else.

Having never known a normal family life, he had no interest in interior decoration or making the space more livable. Since he rarely had guests, there was no need to decorate.

As a result, the only furniture in the room consisted of a leather sofa, a wooden coffee table, a round dining table with two chairs, and a stainless steel shelf—all bought from a downtown antique store.

“Sit wherever you like.”

“Alright.”

Kouki sat down on the leather sofa.

“Want some coffee?”

“Yes, please,” he replied immediately, sounding strangely delighted.

Amane went to the kitchen, put instant coffee powder in two mugs, poured in hot water, and brought them to the coffee table. He placed one mug in front of Kouki, kept the other in his hand, and sat on the sofa while maintaining a careful distance from Kouki as a precaution.

“Thank you for the drink.”

With a serious expression, Kouki took the mug in his hand and sipped the coffee. After savouring it for a moment, he said, “It’s really good.”

“What? It’s just instant coffee.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s instant or not. The fact that you made it for me, Honjou-san, is what matters.”

Amane visibly grimaced at Kouki’s passionate words.

“Don’t say stuff that makes me cringe. It’s annoying.”

“…”

“We’re starting the briefing.”

Kouki, who had been about to respond, closed his mouth without saying anything. After showing a momentary, strangely alluring look of sadness, he straightened up. It was as if he had collected himself. He pulled out his notebook and pen.

Seeing this, Amane switched his mindset to work mode.

Amane had already learned the basic information about Aya from Mizuki the previous night.

Aya was her stage name. Her real name was Shiraishi Aya. She was raised as an only child in a single-parent household in a small mountain village in the north. Her mother passed away from illness when Aya was 17. After her mother’s death, she dropped out of high school and moved to Central City to pursue her dream of becoming an actress. Two years ago, while attending an acting school and working part-time, she was scouted and joined ‘Chance Promotions’. Aya had quickly developed a close friendship with Mizuki, who she had originally admired as a fan.

According to Mizuki, Aya had no other close friends in Central City, and she didn’t have a romantic partner. The agency’s policy forbade romantic relationships (except for top stars), so she didn’t have a boyfriend. As for friends, rivalry among talents at the same agency made it difficult to form deep bonds. Following agency guidelines, Aya didn’t use social media, so she had no online connections either. As a result, her circle of acquaintances was quite limited.

“Before coming here this morning, I stopped by the medical facility where Aya was a patient,” Kouki reported.

Amane raised an eyebrow. 

“How did you identify the hospital Aya used?”

Since there were no living blood relatives to inherit her estate, Aya’s belongings had been disposed of after her cremation. According to Mizuki, Aya’s apartment had already been lightly renovated and cleaned. And it was now vacant.

In other words, they had zero physical leads. Amane had been worried this investigation would be tough.

“I traced it using her national ID number. The national ID system tracks a person’s entire life, from the hospital where they were born, their educational background, employment history, bank account numbers, marriage records, criminal history, the medical facilities they’ve used, to even where they were cremated and buried. Naturally, Aya’s ID number was recorded in her file in the database.”

֍֍֍

*Translator’s Note: The ‘Aya’ stage name is written in Katakana. Her real name is in Kanji. For those unfamiliar with the Japanese writing system, I’ll include some info in the glossary below. By the way, Kouki just flirts so naturally hahaha. -K

*GLOSSARY: 

The three writing systems in Japan are:

1. Hiragana (ひらがな): This is a syllabary used primarily for native Japanese words and grammatical functions. It’s the first script children learn and is used alongside kanji for writing native Japanese words and verb endings.
2. Katakana (カタカナ): Also a syllabary, katakana is mainly used for foreign loanwords, names, onomatopoeia, and sometimes for emphasis. It’s often seen in words borrowed from other languages or for scientific and technical terms.
3. Kanji (漢字): These are logographic characters borrowed from Chinese, each representing a word or a meaningful part of a word. Kanji can be complex, with thousands of characters, each having one or more readings and meanings.

These three systems are often used in combination in Japanese writing.

Next update: 2025.01.24

֍֍֍