Regarding the matter of "Kujo Hikari's murder motive," Minamoto Tamako pondered it all night, yet was still at a loss.

Why on earth would someone commit murder? Having never killed anyone, Minamoto Tamako couldn't understand it no matter how hard she tried. Unable to put herself in Kujo Hikari's shoes, she tossed and turned on her bed, not sleeping in the middle of the night, and disturbed Fushimi Roku by whispering by his bedside:

"Why? Why commit murder?"

Fushimi Roku opened his bleary eyes, momentarily mistaking her for a ghost come to claim his life. He tried to persuade her to no avail and eventually resorted to covering his ears with a pillow, stubbornly waiting until dawn.

The next morning, the fishermen were up early again, and the sounds of steam whistles and shouts came from the harbor. Without waiting for Fushimi Roku to get up, Minamoto Tamako hurriedly dressed and headed to the Sapporo Police Station, intending to ask Kujo Hikari herself.

The pace of life in Hokkaido was slower; Minamoto Tamako stood in the autumn wind for over two hours before the officers started arriving for work. Until then, not even a night shift guard was present, which seemed incredibly irresponsible.

She hurriedly sought out the station chief, requesting to bring someone in for questioning, only to find out that Kujo Hikari had been transferred to the court overnight, waiting for the hearing.

Minamoto Tamako was quite shocked, not expecting Hokkaido Police Station to be so efficient. The case had been closed only yesterday, yet they had already transferred the person overnight... How did they manage to be late for work yet complete such a large workload?

It seemed both fast and slow, quite odd.

The person was already at the court, and there was no point in saying anything further; the prosecutor wouldn't allow a suspect to meet with outsiders. Minamoto Tamako noted the court date, planning to attend as an observer.

She returned home with frustration, just as Fushimi Roku was preparing breakfast.

Thankfully, it wasn't another gout-friendly meal today. After consuming seafood daily, Fushimi Roku felt weary of it and had purchased flour and pork, finely minced them into filling, and steamed some dumplings.

Taira Sakurako's daily routines continued as usual. The dumplings were delicious and very much to her liking, but she still wondered, "Why does Fushimi Roku always cook Chinese dishes?"

Minamoto Tamako arrived late, finding only the last basket left. She quickly filled her stomach and told Fushimi Roku about Kujo Hikari being taken away.

Fushimi Roku wasn't surprised at all; yesterday, Kujo Mutsumi's attitude already revealed his intention to protect his son, whether by bribing a judge for parole or by reducing the sentence. Therefore, the sooner the case was concluded, the better.

To him, this seemed within the legal boundaries. Since Kujo Hikari was caught and judged, it equated to having been punished—whether the punishment was reasonable was beyond his concern.

In all honesty, Minamoto Tamako seemed more suited to handle such matters than he was.

Fushimi Roku had no intention of stating this outright, having been disturbed all night before, and wanting a good night's sleep tonight. The less intrigue, the better.

If Minamoto Tamako wanted to manage it, she needed to detect a problem on her own. Fushimi Roku wouldn't involve himself in this matter nor offer any assistance, mainly trying to maintain a rare state of confusion.

After breakfast, the three found themselves idle.

Minamoto Tamako proposed visiting Kujo Mutsumi, intending to discuss Kujo Hikari's motive for murder directly with her grandfather.

Fushimi Roku outright rejected this proposal; his reasoning was impeccable, leaving Minamoto Tamako unable to refute: "After finally getting your grandfather on our good side, do you want to reset his goodwill to zero again?"

Taira Sakurako raised her hand, indicating she had something to say. But Minamoto Tamako didn't notice and continued debating with Fushimi Roku about where they should go today.

Taira Sakurako had to stand up and raise her hand, finally catching Minamoto Tamako's attention. However, Fushimi Roku spoke first, asking, "What is it?"

"I want to go to the Otaru Music Box Hall," Taira Sakurako said.

The Otaru Music Box Hall, founded in 1912, was a music box museum with a collection of nearly 3,000 antique music boxes. The exterior showcased a Renaissance architectural style, making it a popular tourist attraction.

Minamoto Tamako was curious about how Taira Sakurako knew about this place, having not heard much about it herself, so she asked.

"While you were talking yesterday, I was watching TV outside and saw it on the screen." Taira Sakurako had noticed many wooden boxes there, beautifully designed, which appealed to her. So she wanted to check it out.

Fushimi Roku had no objections, as there was nothing else to do; it didn't matter where they strolled.

Minamoto Tamako was quite indulgent with Sakurako. It was rare for Sakurako to propose an outing herself, reflecting a more outgoing nature. She had no reason not to support it, hence she readily agreed with both hands.

Having reached a consensus, the three took the tram to the Music Box Hall.

As the tram stopped at Otaru Station, the steam clock's chimes could be heard from the crossroads. Taira Sakurako was the first to jump off, looking towards the two-meter-tall steam clock at the source of the sound.

The brass clock shimmered warmly under the sunlight, its top steam vent releasing white mist, and the mechanical ticking of the gears harmonized perfectly with the hourly chime.

The red brick exterior walls of the Music Box Hall were covered in ivy, and various music boxes were displayed within the Renaissance arched window frames.

Minamoto Tamako approached to examine the most prominent one, which was an antique music box shaped like a steam locomotive under a glass dome. The brass pistons moved up and down with the melody of "Snow Dream."

Fushimi Roku, upon entering, realized that a wedding was taking place inside the hall.

The newlyweds had reserved the hall; family members sat in the front, and the back rows were left open for passersby to witness and bless the ceremony. In the center of the hall stood a giant pipe organ music box. As the bride walked down the aisle holding her father's hand, hundreds of metal sound tubes moved in concert, and the melody generated formed a three-dimensional echo within the seven-meter-high atrium.

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