Chapter 5
1146words
Hana Sawamura rubbed her tired eyes, her desk buried under annual audit reports. As the specialist responsible for financial auditing of infrastructure projects, she was tasked with analyzing cash flows for all major engineering projects from the past decade.
"Another all-nighter..." she muttered, opening the next report.
《Tsukiwan Civic Center Project—Detailed Usage of Long-term Maintenance Fund》
The project name made her pause. Lately, this name had been circulating around the company, primarily because of that determined young engineer.
Sawamura examined the report data carefully, her brow furrowing deeper with each page.
Maintenance Fund: 28 million yen annually
Period of Use: 2005 to present, continuing for 18 years
Cumulative Amount: 504 million yen
"This much?"
With eight years in finance, Sawamura knew the typical maintenance costs for municipal buildings. Even for large complex structures, normal maintenance rarely exceeded 8 million yen.
28 million—the figure was alarmingly excessive.
She pulled up maintenance cost comparisons for other similar projects:
Harbor District Community Hall: Annual maintenance cost 5.8 million yen
Shinjuku Cultural Center: Annual maintenance cost 7.2 million yen
Shibuya Civic Hall: Annual maintenance cost 4.5 million yen
The Tsukiwan Civic Center's maintenance costs were 4-6 times higher than comparable facilities!
Even more suspicious, the specific purposes for these expenses were remarkably vague. Most expenditures were categorized as "structural safety monitoring fees," "emergency repair reserves," or "specialized technical consultation fees."
Sawamura searched for information about the Tsukiwan Civic Center. She quickly found the accident investigation report, along with the name Makoto Kijima.
"Makoto Kijima... Shin Kijima..."
She thought about that young man who worked late alone, his intense focus when working—the same dedication she'd heard about in stories of his father.
Sawamura's fingers hovered over the keyboard as a sense of foreboding grew within her.
The next morning, Shin's phone rang.
"Kijima-kun, it's Moriyama." The elderly voice sounded tense. "We need to meet in person."
"Mr. Moriyama?" Shin stepped away from his desk to a quiet corner. "How did you—"
"I couldn't sleep all night." Moriyama's voice was low. "About your father—I need to tell you more. But not over the phone."
"Alright, you name the place."
"Yoyogi Park, two o'clock this afternoon, by the fountain."
After hanging up, Shin checked his watch. Four hours to go.
He tried to focus on his work, but Moriyama's tense voice left him unsettled. The words "your father was framed" kept echoing in his mind.
At noon, Hana Sawamura approached Shin's desk.
"Kijima-kun, do you have a moment?"
Shin looked up and saw Sawamura's expression, instantly alert. "Of course."
"Not here." Sawamura glanced around the office. "The café downstairs."
In the café downstairs, at a secluded corner table.
"I found something," Sawamura said without preamble, "about the Tsukiwan Civic Center project."
Shin tensed immediately. "What?"
"Financial irregularities." Sawamura pulled documents from her bag. "This project's annual maintenance costs run 28 million yen, and have continued for 18 years."
"28 million?" Shin took the document and scanned it quickly. "What would be normal?"
"At most 8 million." Sawamura's voice dropped to a whisper. "And the expense records are suspiciously vague—mostly for technical consulting and safety monitoring."
Shin stared at the data, his mind racing. "Safety monitoring... if a building requires intensive safety monitoring for 18 years, then..."
"Then the building itself has serious structural flaws," Sawamura finished. "Flaws that have never been properly fixed—only continuously monitored and patched at enormous expense."
They looked at each other, mutual shock reflected in their eyes.
"Ms. Sawamura," Shin asked carefully, "why are you telling me this?"
"Because something feels very wrong." Sawamura's voice trembled slightly. "I've been in finance for eight years and have never seen such anomalies. And also..."
"And?"
"I heard about your father's case when I first started here. The senior staff discussed it privately. None of them believed Makoto Kijima was the type to cut corners."
Shin studied Sawamura for a long moment. "This afternoon I'm meeting someone who was involved in the project back then. If you'd like to join..."
"I would." Sawamura replied without hesitation. "But we need to be careful."
Yoyogi Park, 2 PM.
Kenji Moriyama sat on a bench by the fountain, holding the square ruler Shin had given him, his expression troubled.
When Shin and Sawamura approached, the old man immediately stood.
"Mr. Moriyama, this is Ms. Sawamura from the finance department," Shin said. "She's uncovered some important information."
Moriyama studied Sawamura carefully, saying nothing for a long moment.
"Ms. Sawamura, why involve yourself in this matter?"
"Because I believe in truth," Sawamura answered directly. "And as a finance professional, I have a duty to investigate suspicious money flows."
Moriyama nodded, gesturing for them to sit.
"Shin, I've been thinking all night," Moriyama's voice was heavy with burden. "There are things I must speak about, or I'll never have peace."
"Please, go on."
Moriyama took a deep breath. "July 15, 2005, three nights after the accident. I returned to the site office to retrieve something I'd forgotten. That's when I saw Director Kokonogi and several others destroying documents."
"What documents?"
"The original structural design drawings and design change records." Moriyama's hand tightened around the square. "I watched them tear those drawings to pieces, stuff them into garbage bags, then douse them with gasoline and burn them."
Sawamura's eyes widened. "Design change records?"
"Yes." Moriyama turned to her. "Two months before the accident, there were major modifications to the design. But the final investigation report never mentioned these changes."
Shin's fist clenched. "So the truly responsible parties concealed the design changes and made my father the scapegoat?"
"Not just concealment." Moriyama's voice grew heavier. "I believe those last-minute changes caused the structural defect. And to cover it up..."
"That explains the exorbitant 28 million yen annual maintenance," Sawamura finished. "They're continuously monitoring and patching a fundamental structural flaw."
The three fell silent.
Finally, Shin spoke. "We need to locate the exact position of that hidden defect."
"But all the original documents were destroyed," Moriyama shook his head. "And everyone who knew about it then is in upper management now. They'll never talk."
"Then we'll find another way," Sawamura said firmly. "If money's flowing to the Tsukiwan Civic Center, the maintenance contractors must know exactly what they're fixing."
Shin's eyes lit up. "The maintenance contractors' financial records!"
"Exactly," Sawamura nodded. "And finance happens to have detailed records of all contractor payments!"
Moriyama looked at the two young people, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"So, the three of us..."
"Are in this together," Shin said firmly. "Until we uncover the truth."
Sawamura extended her hand. "I have only one condition—we do this legally."
Moriyama placed the square ruler in the center of their circle. "If Makoto's spirit is watching, he'll guide us."
As the sun set over Yoyogi Park, their three shadows merged on the bench. An unlikely alliance had formed—fragile, but determined.
