Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner
Chapter 122 - 44 Kazama Chihime

Chapter 122: Chapter 44 Kazama Chihime

The three of them were taken aback.

Fushimi Roku’s first thought was that Kazama Tatsuya was quite fortunate in his romantic endeavors, marrying such a young wife who looked like she wasn’t from the same generation as Kazama Tatsuya... And even if she was young, her figure and appearance perfectly matched Fushimi’s aesthetic preferences - a classic mature woman with a voluptuous figure, a slender waist, and long legs, with a bit of soft flesh on her thighs.

Immediately afterward, he realized something was off. Based on what he knew about Kazama Tatsuya, this guy was definitely single - even if he had been married, he must be divorced by now.

Could it be that the old man couldn’t stand the loneliness and called a young escort girl for some "services"...?

Minamoto Tamako thought Fushimi Roku had knocked on the wrong door and kept bowing to apologize, ready to pull them away. Fushimi gestured for her to stay calm, glanced inside the house, and casually asked, "We’re looking for Kazama Tatsuya... do you know him?"

"And you are...?" the woman asked hesitantly.

"I’m his colleague." Fushimi shamelessly put himself on an equal footing with his senior.

"I see," the woman turned her head and called out, "Dad, someone’s here for you."

The three were taken aback again.

Kazama Tatsuya was leaning against the balcony railing, smoking. Hearing the call, he came over with a cigarette in his mouth. When he saw Fushimi, his face fell, and he wanted to turn around and leave. But upon spotting Minamoto Tamako and Taira Sakurako, his expression improved a little.

Minamoto Tamako obediently greeted her senior and gestured for Taira Sakurako to call him uncle. The latter, saying nothing, shrank back into the box, clearly afraid of meeting new people.

The woman warmly welcomed the three inside, had them sit on the sofa, and brought over three cups of barley tea on a tray.

After they took the tea, she held the tray with both hands and introduced herself.

Her name was Kazama Chihime, Kazama Tatsuya’s daughter, currently teaching Sword Dao at the Budokan. She usually lived elsewhere, but during this vacation, she decided to visit her old father.

Fushimi Roku’s expression turned skeptical as he looked back and forth, because the father and daughter didn’t resemble each other at all. Kazama Tatsuya knew what he was thinking and said irritably, "Stop looking, she’s my biological daughter."

"Hey, people don’t usually emphasize that, do they?" Fushimi said.

Minamoto Tamako quickly covered his mouth with her little hand and whispered, "How can you say such a thing when you meet someone for the first time? That’s very rude!"

"It’s okay, we’re quite used to being misunderstood," Kazama Chihime smiled as she brushed aside the hair in front of her eyes and said, "I look more like my mother."

"Fortunately, you didn’t inherit Senior Kazama’s genes." Fushimi casually quipped.

He had been almost living off Kazama Tatsuya and Watanabe Shun’s cooking lately, so he figured poking fun at Kazama Tatsuya with a couple of jokes wouldn’t hurt much, considering it a meal fee.

Kazama Chihime covered her mouth and laughed, her laughter soft and lively, praising Fushimi Roku for being humorous.

Her laughter was very pleasing to the eye, with her eyelids squinting, long lashes, and a pure and crisp sound. Everyone took a liking to her, even Taira Sakurako, who peeked out from her box to take a look at her.

Subsequently, Fushimi Roku explained the purpose of their visit. Initially, he intended to bring Minamoto Tamako and Taira Sakurako over for a meal, just for them to have a quick bite.

But now their plans had changed, and Minamoto Tamako wanted to have a gathering with her seniors. Fushimi Roku decided to cook at home himself, and came knocking to invite Kazama Tatsuya and Watanabe Shun to join them... not that he enjoyed being a cook for others, but he simply couldn’t compromise his own palate.

Upon hearing this, Kazama Chihime eagerly asked if anyone had any dietary restrictions, offering to cook for everyone.

"My father is a clumsy man, and I’m sure he owes many of you for all the care you’ve given him. Let me do a little something to express my gratitude." She bowed, making her chest seem even more prominent.

Minamoto Tamako waved her hands shyly, "No, no, it’s actually Senior Kazama who takes care of us. Even when I was still training at the police academy, Senior Kazama took good care of me..."

"Guests need to be treated accordingly, right?" Kazama Chihime straightened up and said with a smile.

With that said, Minamoto Tamako couldn’t say no, so she nodded in agreement. Fushimi Roku stood up, volunteering to help in the kitchen, really intending to supervise.

If Kazama Chihime’s culinary skills didn’t cut it, he would step in himself.

The two of them walked into the kitchen, and after Kazama Chihime put on an apron and tied the waistband, Fushimi noticed her waist was even slenderer than he had imagined. She wore a pair of deep blue jeans that fit snugly and highlighted her leg shape, with the apron strings tied in a bow at her back, accentuating the curves of her hips.

Hm, delightful to the eyes.

Fushimi took a couple of glances and then stopped. In his previous life, people often sought to exploit his weaknesses to win cases, and over time, he developed quite a resistance to such temptations. Although he wasn’t totally devoid of emotions and desires, he at least wouldn’t daydream about getting involved with a beauty upon seeing her.

They are all just flesh and bones, no different from the pork in the refrigerator after death.

He skillfully washed the ingredients and passed them to Kazama Chihime for processing. It was clear that Kazama Chihime was quite proficient with a knife. Whether slicing radishes or filleting fish, she was swift and precise, indicating she likely cooked at home often.

Fushimi felt reassured. He stood to Kazama Chihime’s left, casually placing the washed radish on the cutting board. Unexpectedly, just as Kazama Chihime was about to chop, she ended up nicking his finger.

Fushimi didn’t think it was a big deal—just a small cut. But Kazama Chihime was very concerned; she gasped and took his hand to rinse it and disinfect it, then quickly ran to the bedroom to grab a first aid kit, carefully disinfecting the cut with iodine and applying a bandage.

Fortunately, she worked fast; otherwise, Fushimi’s wound might have healed itself if delayed any longer.

"I’m really sorry! It happened so suddenly, I wasn’t paying attention..."

Kazama Chihime apologized with her hands together and eyes still squinting. She looked like someone with weak eyesight, who, when gazing, instinctively drooped her eyelids, letting her long lashes shield most of her pupils.

"No worries, it’s not a big deal. Let’s focus on cooking..."

Fushimi Roku had just gotten up, only to be gently pushed back onto the sofa by Kazama Chihime, who said softly, "Injured patients shouldn’t get their hands wet, Mr. Fushimi, you should just rest."

He couldn’t refuse and had to give in. Once Kazama Chihime left, he turned his head to see Minamoto Tamako and Taira Sakurako staring at him, their expressions rather unfriendly.

"What’s with those looks?" Fushimi asked.

Minamoto Tamako huffed, saying nothing.

She suspected Fushimi Roku did it on purpose; after all, Kazama Senior had mentioned that even eight gunmen couldn’t get near him. How could he cut himself while slicing a radish? Did that mean the fighting power of a radish was higher than the Yakuza?

The only explanation was that he was bewitched by Sister Chihime’s beauty!

Seeing her reaction, Fushimi guessed what she might have misunderstood. Explaining would only make things worse, so he decided not to bother and instead turned on the big-screen TV in the living room, lying on the couch to watch the news.

Watanabe Shun wasn’t around; that guy had gone drinking again. The meal had transitioned into a free meal, and Fushimi was shamelessly lazing around.

Kazama Tatsuya was silent, looking quite preoccupied. Since they arrived, Kazama Tatsuya had only said one sentence, spending the rest of the time smoking. Only when Minamoto Tamako couldn’t help but cough did he react, extinguishing his cigarette, and opening the window to ventilate the room.

Over an hour later, dinner was ready.

Everyone gathered around the kotatsu, placing their hands together and saying in unison, "I will eat now." The dishes on the table were steaming hot, and when Fushimi Roku tried a piece of croquette, it tasted unexpectedly good.

After everyone finished eating and drinking, Kazama Chihime started to clear the table.

Normally a lazy person like Fushimi Roku wouldn’t help, but he wanted to find out some of Kazama Tatsuya’s dark history from Kazama Chihime. Therefore, he volunteered to wash the dishes—recently, Kazama Tatsuya seemed to have sensed something, and with no leverage over him, Fushimi didn’t feel secure.

The two of them carried the dishes into the kitchen, standing on either side of the sink. Fushimi hadn’t yet figured out how to bring up the topic when he saw a slug crawling out from between the kitchen counter gaps.

This creature, also known as a "snot bug," often hides in the crevices of furniture or walls for hibernation. With the indoor temperature being warmer than outside, they come out to forage.

Fushimi dug a spoonful of salt with a small spoon, sprinkling the grains evenly over the slug, feeling satisfied watching it twist and struggle, constantly dehydrating, and eventually dissolve into a sticky liquid.

At that moment, he instinctively turned his head and glanced over, like an eagle surveying its domain, only to find that the woman beside him was doing the same thing—Kazama Chihime was sprinkling salt on the slug as well, her lips curled up in a smile, her gaze holding a childlike yet ruthless innocence.

The two of them locked eyes, their pupils mirroring each other’s faces.

At that instant, Fushimi suddenly recalled a certain person Kazama Tatsuya had repeatedly mentioned.

—"You remind me of an annoying fellow; the look in your eyes is very similar."

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