Chapter 6
971words
The blue glow from the computer screen illuminated Shin's exhausted face. His desk was covered with Moriyama's hand-drawn sketches, publicly available documents on the civic center, and several thick textbooks on structural mechanics.
"The rebar layout Mr. Moriyama described..." Shin murmured, adjusting the 3D model in his CAD software. "According to standard specifications, this should have double-layer reinforcement..."
His fingers flew across the keyboard, inputting construction details from Moriyama's recollections into the system. As a structural engineer, he understood that the position of each rebar could affect the integrity of the entire building.
At three in the morning, the preliminary model was complete.
Shin started the structural analysis program, then went to make a cup of instant coffee. When he returned, the results on the screen left him stunned.
Under simulated earthquake loading, abnormal stress concentrations appeared in the load-bearing structure on the north side of the civic center. The red warning areas clearly showed the connection nodes between the seventh and eighth load-bearing columns experiencing stress far beyond design limits.
"This can't be right..." Shin muttered, rechecking his input parameters.
But no matter how he adjusted them, the results remained consistent: if built according to Moriyama's recollection, the building would suffer catastrophic structural failure during even a moderate earthquake.
The next morning, in Director Kokonogi's office.
"Kijima-kun, a moment please."
Shin had barely settled at his workstation when he heard the summons. Fighting his exhaustion, he walked to the director's office.
"How are you settling in?" Kokonogi's tone was friendly, but Shin detected a calculating gaze.
"Still learning the ropes, sir. Thank you for asking."
"Is that so?" Kokonogi pulled a thick file from his drawer. "Well then, I have an urgent project that needs your attention."
Shin took the file and read the cover: "Shinagawa District General Hospital Expansion Project—Structural Safety Assessment."
"How urgent?"
"Preliminary report due in one week." Kokonogi's tone hardened. "This project is tied to a major contract next year. There can be no mistakes."
Shin flipped through the 200-page technical document, his heart sinking. This workload would normally take at least two weeks of undivided attention.
"I understand, Director."
"Also," Kokonogi rose and walked over to Shin, placing a hand on his shoulder, "young people should focus their energy on what truly matters. Some... irrelevant matters from the past are best left alone."
The words carried an unmistakable warning. A chill ran down Shin's spine.
"Yes, I'll focus on my work."
Outside the office, Shin paused in the hallway. Kokonogi's thinly veiled warning suggested he was already suspicious.
For the next three days, Shin lived a double life.
By day, he buried himself in the Shinagawa Hospital project data. Kokonogi seemed to deliberately assign the most complex calculations—tasks where every number required multiple verifications and every conclusion needed extensive documentation.
"Kijima-kun, there appears to be an error in this load calculation." Kokonogi held up the draft report. "Redo it."
"Right away."
"And this seismic analysis—did you use the wrong reference standard?"
"I'll verify it."
"Progress meeting tomorrow at nine. Have your section ready."
Each night in his apartment, Shin forced himself to stay awake, continuing his simulation analysis of the Tsukiwan Civic Center.
Moriyama occasionally texted additional construction details from the original project. Sawamura shared information during brief lunch meetings. But Kokonogi's crushing workload left Shin barely any time for his investigation.
On the fourth night, Shin finally uncovered critical evidence in his simulation.
When he adjusted the earthquake parameters to match the actual seismic data from July 2005, a clear crack propagation pattern appeared at the base of the seventh load-bearing column.
"It's right here..." Shin stared at the red warning area on the screen.
If his calculations were correct, the 2005 earthquake would have already initiated microcracks inside the load-bearing column—cracks that would have been slowly but steadily expanding over the past 18 years.
Meanwhile, in the Finance Department.
Hana Sawamura was reviewing the latest maintenance expense records when she discovered a disturbing pattern.
"November 2021: Reinforcement work on load-bearing column C7, 12 million yen"
"September 2022: Emergency maintenance on load-bearing column C8, 8.8 million yen"
"March 2023: Structural monitoring equipment upgrade, 6.5 million yen"
C7, C8—these two codes made her pulse quicken.
She immediately texted Shin: "Urgent! Must talk. Tomorrow lunch, café downstairs."
The next day at noon, in a secluded corner of the café.
"Columns C7 and C8," Hana Sawamura whispered, "Over the past three years, maintenance costs totaled 27.3 million yen, all focused on these two columns."
Shin nearly jumped from his chair. "C7 and C8? You're certain?"
"Absolutely certain. And the intervals between expenditures show they're performing emergency repairs." Hana Sawamura pulled financial statements from her bag. "The intervals between repairs are shrinking, while the costs are climbing."
With trembling hands, Shin took out his phone and showed her screenshots of his simulation results.
"Look here," he pointed to the red area on the screen. "My calculations show that if the construction matched Mr. Moriyama's description, the structural weakness would be located in..."
"The seventh and eighth support columns," Hana Sawamura finished.
They stared at each other, both seeing the same mixture of shock and vindication.
"We found it." Shin's voice trembled. "My father wasn't responsible for these columns, yet the structural defect appeared here. This means..."
"The real problem was in the design change," Hana Sawamura concluded rapidly. "A change that was fundamentally flawed from the start."
Shin clenched his fist. "Now we need to prove who authorized this fatal design change."
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the café window, illuminating them both. The truth was slowly taking shape before their eyes.
But Shin also realized something more urgent—if his calculations were correct, the structural integrity of the Tsukiwan Civic Center had deteriorated to a critical point.
The next significant earthquake could be catastrophic.
