The Color of Farewell is Moss Green - Chapter 3
To the right of the hallway leading from the entrance to the living room, there was a door to the separate washroom.
From behind that door, the faint sound of running water could be heard.
“Did you accidentally leave the water on before you went out?”
Okuda-kun’s voice wavered slightly.
“No way.”
Mine did too. My voice trembled, barely forming the words.
“Is that bastard… actually taking a shower right now? Unbelievable. What kind of nerve—”
“Can I go in first?”
Okuda-kun asked in a hushed tone.
I nodded, over and over again.
Thank god he was with me.
Moving silently, he slipped off his shoes.
This apartment had a dimple key, a type that couldn’t be copied.
Aside from me, the only person with a key was my ex—whom I had punched just hours ago.
That meant there was no doubt about who was in the bathroom.
A cold sweat ran down my back.
Had he actually broken in?
“I’m opening the door.”
Okuda-kun’s voice was tense as he reached for the sliding door to the washroom.
I clung close behind him, peering into the room.
The lights were on.
The shower continued to run in rhythmic bursts from the bathroom.
Inside, there was a hunched, shadowy figure.
“Oh god.”
My breath caught in my throat, my eyes stinging with tears.
“There’s definitely someone in there.”
“Something’s off…”
Unlike before, Okuda-kun’s voice was eerily calm.
“Is the shadow moving?”
I froze.
Now that he mentioned it—
No.
That figure hadn’t moved at all.
The sound of water splattering was monotonous, striking the floor with unwavering repetition.
Something was wrong.
“Excuse me. Is someone in there?”
Okuda-kun asked, his voice lower than usual.
Silence.
No response.
The unease in my chest grew heavier.
Taking a deep breath, Okuda-kun reached out—
And opened the bathroom door.
※ ※ ※
A memory surfaced.
A fig.
A fruit with dark skin, concealing its dense red flesh.
I used to love them as a child, always begging my parents to buy them.
But now—
I don’t think I’ll ever eat one again.
What lay beneath the running shower water wasn’t the tiled floor.
It was a body.
A black mass, drenched, unmoving.
Soaking wet clothing—clinging to a motionless form.
Facedown.
Right hand limp, pressing the shower handle down.
That shirt—
I knew that shirt.
It was my ex.
Why was he here?
Why was he lying fully clothed, drenched in my bathtub?
The answer was obvious.
“Is… he dead?”
His head—
It was caved in, smashed like a split-open watermelon.
Like a fig, torn apart.
Bl00d.
Deep red, pooling, swirling with the water into a thin pink film across the floor.
I knew the answer.
Even as I asked, I already knew.
The bathtub’s edge was splattered with dark, dried stains.
My mind went blank.
Okuda-kun moved fast.
He crouched by the body, checking the wrist and then the neck.
His face was pale with fear, but his gaze was steady as he looked up and nodded at me.
Oh god.
My knees almost buckled.
I couldn’t process this.
The only thing I felt was overwhelming despair.
Reality was slipping—
I couldn’t grasp it.
“No way…”
The words barely left my lips.
Then,
“Ah—!”
Okuda-kun’s expression hardened.
“We need to get out of here. Now.”
He jumped back from the corpse, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of the washroom.
“Stay close to me.”
He didn’t hesitate.
He threw open the door to the living room—
Then the bedroom.
Then the bathroom.
One after another, he checked every single door.
“W-wait! What’s going on?!”
I stumbled after him, struggling to keep up.
I had no time to feel embarrassed that he was going through my apartment.
Finally, after sweeping the entire space, Okuda-kun’s face tensed.
“Sorry for doing this suddenly.”
His brows knitted into that familiar eight-shape of concern.
His gaze darted around, as if still searching for something.
“Wait— What are you trying to say?”
He looked straight at me.
His next words made my stomach drop.
“Your ex was killed by a blunt force trauma to the head.”
“If— if this was an intentional attack—”
The moment I understood, my breath caught.
My pulse pounded in my ears.
I whispered,
“You’re saying… the murderer… might still be inside?”
“It’s just a theory.”
The front door was locked when we arrived.
The only person with a key was my ex.
If he was murdered—
Then who locked the door?
“W-wait. Maybe the killer took the key and locked the door behind them?”
“Why would they do that?”
“I—”
I couldn’t answer.
It didn’t make sense.
“I don’t know… but—”
“Neither do I.”
His voice was firm.
“That’s why we need to search.”
I clung to his side, scanning every corner.
We checked the closets.
The curtains.
Even under the bed.
Nothing.
No one was there.
Then—
“Huh?”
Okuda-kun suddenly stopped.
He stared at the balcony door.
“It’s unlocked.”
“Wait, what?”
I froze.
“I must’ve forgotten to lock it… right?”
Or—
Had the ‘killer’ escaped through the balcony?
“I’m opening it.”
“Okay.”
I clutched the hem of his shirt.
With a loud scrape, the balcony door slid open.
Nothing.
No one.
“…It’s empty.”
“Yeah… looks like it.”
The tension broke.
Relief hit all at once.
My legs gave out, and I sank onto the floor.
My mind finally accepted reality.
That bastard is dead.
A cheating, lying, useless piece of trash.
But still—
I had spent two years with him.
It wasn’t grief.
It wasn’t fear.
But a hollow, gnawing loss spread from deep in my chest.
I exhaled. My nose stung.
“Did they escape through here?”
“But… it’s the second floor. And below is solid concrete.”
“Yeah… so maybe—”
Maybe I really did just forget to lock it.
I wanted to believe that.
Okuda-kun whispered,
“We need to call the police. Now.”
I nodded, unable to speak.
If I did, I might start sobbing again.