In the summer of 1940, Lieutenant Colonel Yuuki received a letter from a man named Osamu Utsumi that resided on a small Hawaiian island called Honolulu. The message contained coded details of his mission, which included his current situation and his apparent resignation from D-Agency.

Inside the note was a small photograph of Utsumi with a child, both dressed in summer wear, and a dog by the child's feet.

My niece and I will be on vacation for a while longer. I hope you and the family are doing well.

Yuuki pulled the picture out and stood, making his way to the cafeteria.

Kaminaga placed his empty glass of scotch on the table, his eyes blurring and refocusing on the mahogany countertop that was just recently wiped down to clear the water rings left from his drink.

Tazaki was supposed to join him for the evening, but had long went back to headquarters once he realized that Kaminaga wasn't going to leave anytime soon. It was unwise to stay up so late, under such a condition, before leaving the country again. Tomorrow morning was the start of a travelling author that went by the name of Kurosawa Shin.

Kaminaga almost laughed to himself, staring at his reflection in the glass cup before it was refilled with amber liquid. He didn't bother to thank the bartender that did it without his request, knowing he'd have enough to pay for his fourth drink but had the conscious decision to deny finishing it.

He held the rim of the glass to his lips, tipping his head back and swallowing enough to burn his throat and leave his tongue numb. He glanced at the ceiling, his vision picking up hazy images of wooden support beams and the small chandelier that hung above him.

"Neither of us got the chance to really live, huh?"

The words were muttered under his breath, but slurred to the point that only he would have recognized what he was saying. That was fine, he supposed. It would have been embarrassing if someone had overheard him talking to himself.

He remained that way, staring up at the ceiling and fixing his gaze on the support structure while his neck strained at the angle he held it in. Anyone looking at him would have thought he simply slumped in his chair and passed out, if they didn't notice his eyes.

Kaminaga tapped the side of the glass with his finger, his mouth forming something like a smirk in his drunken state. "You always had to go above and beyond everybody else."

Kaminaga leaned forward and righted himself before taking another drink.

He couldn't have died in some anticlimactic way. Though, he assumed a train accident might have been the most unexpected. It wasn't a situation that they had prepared for, at least. It was one thing after another. Kaminaga couldn't catch a break.

Perhaps that's where it started; when D-Agency didn't feel like a place to call home anymore. Miyoshi's death was recent but after Odagiri had resigned and left to go to the Kwantung Army, things just weren't the same.

Kaminaga recalled the way Fukumoto had become quieter and less willing to join the others after he cooked their meals. The absence of Odagiri really took a toll on him. Ever since Fukumoto was sent to Shanghai, Kaminaga hadn't heard a word from him at all. He chalked it up to him just being overly cautious or too caught up in his mission to send him some piece of mind.

Then there was the matter of Amari, who had ditched the agency to raise some brat on an island in the middle of nowhere. Kaminaga was sure that a playboy like him wouldn't last longer than a year raising a kid without realizing that parenting wasn't the life he wanted. Any chance of a relationship between the two of them would only be fragments of honesty and there was a good probability that the girl's life would be in danger later on.

Either way, Miyoshi was dead, Odagiri was gone, and D-Agency was lacking its big brother.

This time Kaminaga really did laugh, a chuckle bubbling to the surface before he drained the rest of the scotch. He pushed his drink away to signal that he was finished and ready to pay, the alcohol in his system doing nothing to deprive his eyes of the tears that threatened to give his act away.

He would be returning to the Cultural Society alone and greeted with drowsy nods from the other members who bothered to even stay up as late as he had. There wouldn't be any teasing of staying out too long or claims of trying to hook up with one of the local women.

He would head to bed with the rest of D-Agency and sleep in their dorm, only to wake up the next morning ready to head out and take on the identity of Kurosawa, the drifting writer that fell in love with Belgium's scenery.

Hatano was sitting on the arm of the couch, a book in his hands that he picked up from the shelf. Jitsui had already been deep into a novel on the other side of the library, his attention focused on the text below him and his left hand holding his head for support.

Hatano watched from the corner of his eye as Jitsui played with his hair between his fingers, tugging it and then brushing it away from his face as he flipped the page. Hatano understood then that he wasn't as immersed in the book as he originally thought. His body language was enough to give him away, outside of his nervous tick.

He had a feeling that Jitsui wasn't fretting over their co-mission, but over something else entirely.

"Pacing around the room isn't going to do anything to bring him back."

Jitsui felt as though he had this discussion before, with another member of their spy agency. He recalled the way Kaminaga had once done the same when Yuuki broke the news of Maki Katsuhiko's death. The usually chipper and composed man spent more time in isolation and was usually found smoking in their dorm room.

All that was left of Kaminaga now was his cigarette pack and his once slept-in sheets that were still folded on the end of his cot.

"I should have just stayed with him that night."

Jitsui knew he was referring to Kaminaga's last day at D-Agency headquarters. He had invited a few other members out for drinks, but Jitsui had chosen to stay in for the evening. Tazaki had went with him but returned alone, claiming that Kaminaga was only looking to get drunk.

Now he regretted ever leaving him in the first place. "It was his decision—"

"You know as well as I do that he'd never deny the chance to go undercover." Tazaki couldn't even look at Jitsui, his gaze on the floor as he walked. "It was Yuuki's own error that cost Kaminaga his life."

"It was just a coincidence."

"It wasn't!" Tazaki slammed his hand on the desk beside him, his voice startling Jitsui. "Yuuki knew that the enemy was in Belgium and he overestimated his skills. It was too soon for him to have been travelling alone after his mission in London."

"How can you be so sure that it was Howard Marks' men that discovered his identity?" Jitsui's own voice had remained level to counter Tazaki's own unsteady one. "They're a whole country away and busy with their own nation's problems."

"The United Kingdom has had refugees from the German invasion in Belgium coming in for months. It wouldn't have been unusual for a Lieutenant Colonel to keep an eye out for any other potential threats during an ally crisis."

"I believe you're reading too far into this." Jitsui was having a difficult time managing a conversation with Tazaki now, feeling more and more agitated with his unorthodox behavior as of late. "You're becoming a mess."

Tazaki's lips thinned and his eyes smoldered with something Jitsui couldn't place. "It doesn't matter what you think because the result is the same. D-Agency is falling apart." He breathed in through his nose and shifted his weight in a way that looked conscious and forced. Like he was trying to calm himself by fidgeting. "The military doesn't give a damn about us. We're sticking our necks out for those bastards at General Staff and they're sitting on their goddamn asses doing nothing but shouting orders."

"That's how it's always been." Jitsui was careful about his words. "You didn't seem to mind their incompetency until now. I can understand your feelings about the Imperial Army, but there should be no reason as to why you're this upset about someone you didn't even know."

Tazaki opened his mouth to give his side, to bring up Jitsui's own relationship with Miyoshi and Hatano, but the younger man only glared to show that he wasn't finished.

"We were trained to let go of our emotions and carry on with our jobs, is that not correct? Kaminaga fulfilled his duty until the very end, just as Miyoshi had. Their deaths should mean nothing to us."

"That's it, then?" Tazaki lifted his hand from the desk and gestured to Jitsui. "We're just going to move on and march to our deaths just like the military does with their men? Isn't that what's going to happen to Odagiri once Hsinking gets involved, too?" He didn't miss the way Jitsui had tensed at the mention of his name. "When you're off on your mission, is Hatano just going to be another causality for you to—"

Tazaki was too slow to pull Jitsui's hands from his shirt, his brown eyes narrowed and features tight as he tackled Tazaki to the ground and slammed his head onto the floor. That was all it took for Jitsui to keep himself from strangling him to death.

It was also all it took for Jitsui to realize that Tazaki had baited him into losing his composure.

Angry, Jitsui roughly released his hands from Tazaki and stood. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I don't appreciate being played with. I trust Yuuki because I know it is ultimately up to my skills to save me from being killed. Kaminaga didn't have what it took to carry out his assignment in Belgium and that's all there was to it. Don't put the blame on someone else because of your failures as a spy." Jitsui turned to walk towards the door, leaving Tazaki to deal with his injuries on the floor. "It's your own fault for growing too attached."

Fukumoto tucked his glasses in his coat pocket and walked along the familiar alleyway that homed streets rats and shady business deals outside of prying eyes. With the death of Military Police Captain Oikawa and the revelation of leaked information in Shanghai now ever present in the Army, Fukumoto deemed it a job well done.

He emerged from the alley and blended in with the rest of the crowd there, though the afternoon streets weren't as eventful as the colorful evenings were where people dressed to dance and the company of women could be found around every corner.

The guise of Shiozuka Hajime no longer needed to be maintained, though Fukumoto decided to humor himself and keep it up for a while longer. Playing someone as goofy as him was rather fun and invigorating, even if his purpose was already served. He deemed himself worthy of a reward after two grueling years of watching Oikawa lose himself in the temptations that Shanghai had to offer those of willing heart.

Gambling, drugs, money, sex, scandal. In such a city, it was only a matter of time before even the most reserved of people were succumbed to the pleasure of sin.

Fukumoto found it fascinating.

In his train of thought, he found himself walking towards one of the many legal casinos Shanghai had to lure customers in. The usual flashing lights were off but the sign on the door indicated that it was open. Odd, for one to be operating before dark, but it wasn't entirely unusual. In order to keep business flowing, casinos were sometimes running all day or well before midnight when the more luxurious crowds of regular clients would make themselves known.

Feeling the coins rattling in his pocket, Fukumoto grinned and removed his hat as he opened the door to the establishment. Greeted by a young man by the door, he guided himself to an occupied poker table by the entrance and pulled up a seat.

He was unused to a legitimate poker table, Fukumoto far more familiar with the beaten wooden one they used to host their daily card games.

Even the smell was different, the air around him made of expensive and foreign cigar brands that were so unlike the local packs his colleagues bought. Odagiri especially was a fan of the cheap cigarettes he carried in his breast pocket.

Fukumoto took up his hand of cards and his thoughts went back to D-Agency, the year he had last seen Odagiri. He heard that he was transferred off somewhere outside of Japan, but the others refused to share any details before he was sent to Shanghai.

He hadn't bothered to keep in touch with the others anyway, considering they were most likely off working just as he was and unable to share sensitive information and the like. If you considered a letter with a brief greeting as sensitive information.

If he was being honest, he was still bitter about Odagiri leaving.

He was aware that one of his coworkers was listening in on his departure, but no one had bothered to let him know anything about it. Not even Odagiri had stopped by to talk with him before he left. No goodbye, no reassurance of his safety, no way to contact him through the military.

Fukumoto contributed his bet and pushed it to the middle of the table, idly watching some of the men sitting around him and observing their reactions. Picking them out would be easy, but gaining the right hand to win was the hard part.

He had almost three years to hone his skills in poker and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to put it to use.

Emma hopped down from the stool she was seated in as she watched Frate duck under the coffee table to retrieve a ball that had been left there from their last game of catch. He maneuvered around the play bin that held her own selection of toys as she moved through the kitchen and into the bedroom.

Sitting by the window was her uncle, his back to her and hand scribbling something on paper. He looked busy and Emma was against bothering him in the middle of his work, but he seemed to already be aware of her presence as he sat up and turned around to smile at her.

She smiled back and crossed the small shared bedroom of their apartment, putting her hands on her uncle's desk to peek at what he was doing.

"I'm writing to grandpa today. Do you want to say hello to him?" Amari had given her the option of taking his pen and writing for herself, though she shook her head and politely declined. "I'll be finished here soon. Maybe we could walk down to that restaurant you like and go there for dinner."

"Okay." She took one more look at the letter and walked over to the edge of the bed, pulling herself up and dangling her legs off the edge as she waited. "Uncle Utsumi?" She paused until she heard him hum. "When are we gonna visit your home?"

Amari had just wrapped up his message and signed his name at the bottom of the paper. "Hopefully soon. I have to do some things here first before we can go to Japan." He set his pen down and began folding the paper before writing the address on the envelope cover.

"Will we be able to see grandpa?"

"Yes."

Emma tucked her hands into her lap, fiddling with the woven bracelet on her wrist. "Is grandpa nice?"

Her question seemed to make her uncle fumble with the letter he was packing because he had bent it around the corner of the envelope before adjusting the paper and correctly slipping it inside. "Yes, Emma."

Emma gasped. "Uncle, you're fibbing!"

Amari set the envelope down on the desk and sighed, turning around in his chair. He really didn't like the way Emma could see through him sometimes. He could lie through his teeth with the officials in Hawaii and barter his way into decent living conditions, but completely fooling a six-year-old was beyond his level of deception. "No, I'm not fibbing. Your grandpa really is a nice man. He's just… strict with his rules."

"Was he strict with you?" Emma tugged at her bracelet idly.

"He was strict with me." Amari recalled the harsh winter he endured swimming in the ocean during recruitment. The way Yuuki's face looked as he watched almost sent a shiver down his spine from the memory. "Why don't we get ready for dinner now, okay? Go wash your hands and put your shoes on."

Emma nodded and slid off the bed, the waistline of her summer dress now crooked from where she was sitting on the hem of the garment. The bathroom wasn't very far and she was able to reach the sink with the use of a stepstool, so Amari wouldn't have to worry.

He turned back and grabbed the envelope from his desk before he stood and plucked his hat from the coat hanger.

He was no longer under employment from Yuuki as Amari decided to find a job in Honolulu working as a technician for a nearby aircraft company. He planned to raise Emma on the island until she was old enough to support herself, believing that Hawaii was one of the safest places to do so. However, the recent bombing at Pearl Harbor had indicated that the United States were going to enter war.

It was better for them to leave for Japan while they still could. He didn't want Emma wrapped up in things here, where Hawaii's strategic ports could be used as military bases for the second world war just as it happened before. Too many soldiers would be flooding in and the islands could be attacked at any time.

For now, he would wrap up what he could at his replacement job and hope that his message would be able to reach Yuuki in time.

The echo of footsteps rang through the streets as they splashed through puddles and the brisk air stung their cheeks. They didn't bother to look behind them, already aware of the group of men that chased them from the underground train tunnels.

In Jitsui's hand were the documents they were ordered to steal after gaining access to Russia's secret police unit in Sochi. The files held confidential information involving the whereabouts of international Russian spies that they were aiming to discover and turn into double agents working for Japan.

Hatano was in the lead, trying to pick up the pace while keeping an eye on Jitsui behind him.

"I'm fine." Jitsui huffed out the moment he noticed Hatano looking at him, his legs struggling to keep up. The two of them had been caught during their infiltration mission, one of the NKVD officers had managed to pierce Jitsui's right arm with a bullet before they scrambled out.

"We need to find a place to rest once we lose them." Hatano's voice came out raspy, probably short of breath after running for so long. Even he was beginning to feel the effects of fatigue, his legs turning numb and his chest burning from the air. He had memorized the street route they needed to take in order to escape by ship, but the port was still another three miles away and Jitsui looked ready to collapse.

"If we rest, we won't be able to reach the port in time." Jitsui winced as the tender flesh on his arm throbbed with pain, the bullet still lodged near his shoulder. His sleeve was soaked in blood, droplets of it leaving a fresh trail behind him. He knew that alone would give away their position, even if they were hidden away. He was leaving a path for their enemy to follow, whether he wanted it or not.

Hatano looked at the street names up ahead, still able to read them in the dark without the help of a streetlamp. He tugged on Jitsui's good arm and led him down another road, their destination visible even from where they were. The port could be seen from the cobble street between the houses and Hatano could spot the ship that was awaiting its sea voyage in less than an hour.

If they hurried, they could make it.

Jitsui kept his eyes on Hatano, watching his back while making sure to keep the files tight in his grip. He took another breath of air before his vision became blurry and he nearly lost his footing.

The interruption in Jitsui's rhythm had made Hatano stop and grab Jitsui by his waist, pulling him forward with him while providing balance. "You've lost a lot of blood already and you're in no condition to run like this."

"We're not sto—"

"I'll carry you if I have to."

"I'm slowing you down, Hatano." Even in his weakened state, Jitsui was able to pry Hatano from him and shove the documents into his arms.

Realizing the meaning behind his resistance, Hatano scowled. "Don't you dare think about it." He gripped the files and crumpled the side with his fingers. He could hear the officers behind them approaching. It wouldn't be long before they found them if they stayed there any longer. "I'm not sacrificing you for this mission."

"If I don't do this now, we're both going to get caught." Jitsui nearly snarled, his anger mixing with the pain from his wound. "Then our mission would be a complete failure. I'd rather take out as many as I can than lead them directly to our escape route."

"It's suicide."

"It's the better option."

Hatano knew better than to stand there arguing while Jitsui held his ground. Their enemies were gaining and closing the distance between them. He needed to make a decision. It damned him to say, but Jitsui was right on this one. "I want you to promise me something."

Jitsui's expression alone gave him the incentive to continue.

"Kick their asses," Hatano's throat was tight as he spoke, "and don't keep me waiting at the port."

"I never disappoint, do I?" Jitsui didn't wait for Hatano to turn around and run as he hid in an alley between two stone houses, the darkness effectively concealing his presence. He took the opportunity to rest his body, leaning against the wall and pressing his hand against his wound in a feeble attempt to stanch the flow of blood.

It wasn't long before he heard the group of men advancing, the sound of their footsteps giving Jitsui an estimation of five soldiers, maybe six. He just needed to time it right. He counted down, listening until they were nearly even with his location, Jitsui pulling out the pistol he kept in his jacket.

A second later he fired, the bullet catching one man in the leg and the rest were quick to react. Jitsui braced himself and pulled the trigger again, managing to hit one to his left before he ducked and knocked another off his feet, striking him in the head with the butt of his gun.

There were three left standing, but Jitsui was losing steam and his wound wasn't doing him any favors. They were armed with higher caliber weapons and he knew he was at a disadvantage.

Before one of the men aimed, Jitsui tackled the closest one and broke his wrist to retrieve his firearm before he took off in the opposite direction to lure them away from Hatano. He was still quick enough to lose them, but he couldn't continue his stride for very long.

His decoy strategy worked, the two other soldiers following and leaving the others to their injuries. They weren't far behind him, both prepared to shoot the moment he was easily within point blank range. He made it difficult for them, maneuvering through the streets and weaving through obstacles to give them less of a chance to hit their moving target.

His legs were telling him to stop, but Jitsui continued on before he found an opportunity to attack. He feinted a left into a narrow street before abruptly turning around and knocking the breath out of one, a solid punch to his solar plexus enough to leave the man momentarily disabled. He pulled the gun from him before he could recover, using it to shoot his partner in the chest before shooting him.

Jitsui realized that the wounds he had inflicted on them were possibly going to kill them, but he figured that breaking his agency's motto this one time wasn't going to cost him. It was already wartime and Jitsui didn't see a point in hiding the bodies. He was too tired to give a damn and he was sure that the civilians in their homes had already heard gunfire being exchanged. The police were bound it get involved soon.

Taking that as a sign to get out, Jitsui turned back around and followed the path he and Hatano were meant to take and hoped that he would make it to the port in his condition. He was only able to jog, but it was far better than his walking speed.

He retraced his steps, discovering the trail of blood he did indeed leave that had brought him back to his ambush location. Two of the men were unconscious on the ground, but the third wasn't where he had left him.

Jitsui panicked and searched to find his weapon again before a gunshot went off. It resonated behind his ears and the spy's own hand stopped. He looked down to see where his gun was tucked inside his jacket, only to discover the blooming blotch of red that oozed from his stomach.

His knees gave out and his body slumped to the ground, the stinging pain from his fresh wound causing Jitsui to whimper. His face was pressed against the cobble road and he could barely keep up with the footsteps behind him.

He fought to grip his pistol from its hiding spot in an attempt to defend himself, his fingers brushing the cold metal before he heard the click of a trigger and his world went black.

Tobisaki had received word of the atomic bombings on his homeland, the effects of the attacks killing over two-hundred thousand civilians. It was tragic, Tobisaki unable to imagine the devastation it brought to his people.

The bombings were unnecessary. Germany had already surrendered three months ago, yet his own unit was forced to remain at Kwantung for further instructions. There was a rumor of the Soviet Union advancing into Manchuria, but his superior officers were keeping the information from the other soldiers.

The former spy had barely even noticed that one of his men had approached and tapped him on the shoulder, alerting him of his shift end. He had stayed up for eighteen hours keeping watch with dozens of other soldiers as they stood outside of their garrison, armed and alert for any signs of Russian troops.

He stepped down from his post and allowed his replacement to take over, retiring to his bunk for the few hours of sleep he was able to get. The heat outside was bearable once the sun had set, and while Hsinking had only about five-thousand men left to keep watch, it still meant longer watch hours. The rest were inside preparing for the possible attack and Tobisaki had a feeling they were all left at headquarters to fend for themselves.

He entered the building and walked past the group of men that were making their way through the halls to, what Tobisaki could assume was, the artillery room to stock up on weapons. What they had left was what his commanders had bothered to leave behind while they traveled to Tokyo to sort out military matters with the government.

Tobisaki strode into the dorm rooms and made his way to his own cot, removing his hat and the accessories from his uniform before he collapsed onto the bed. It was against regulation to rest in uniform, but with no one there to reprimand him and the others doing the same, he found that he really didn't give a damn.

It only felt like seconds before the sound of his comrades' shouts could be heard from outside and it ripped Tobisaki from his sleep. Without bothering to assess the situation from the window, he reached for his sword and the gun he kept at his side before running out of the room.

Those that were preparing earlier were scrambling to give orders and send men with the weapons they needed.

"What's going on?" Tobisaki approached the one he had passed earlier on his way in, noticing that he wasn't even an appropriate rank to lead. No one left at headquarters was.

The soldier passed a machine gun to another man before shoving one in Tobisaki's arms. "The Soviets are invading." It was the only thing he got out of him before he moved on and distributed the rest of their firearms.

Tobisaki walked outside and found that his unit had already set up a blockade of sandbags and vehicles that were enough to momentarily stop bullets and give them a chance of cover. One soldier was already operating their tank, setting it up and aiming the cannon towards the oncoming barrage of Soviet troops.

They were marching closer and Tobisaki could see them even from where he was standing. They had far more men than they did and that alone made him realize the outcome of the battle. They didn't have enough ammo, let alone enough weapons or soldiers, to fight off an entire invasion like this.

Japan had already surrendered.

Yuuki had just finished filing away a recent document handed to him from the military, his eyes blinking slowly to adjust to the lack of light in the room. His desk lamp was starting to flicker and dim, making it difficult to read such small text even for him.

He was ready to retire for the night when he had heard the sound of his spies returning from their mission, heavy footsteps coming from downstairs letting him know that it was Hatano who had ungraciously entered the establishment in a foul mood.

Within a minute, the short spy was already yanking his office door open and a thick manila folder thrown onto his desk, the papers inside scattering and fluttering around the room.

Hatano reached forward and gripped Yuuki by the front of his suit, nearly pulling him out of his seat from the force of his rage. "You're going to regret ever taking me into D-Agency, you fucking son of a bitch."

Yuuki could feel his hands trying to dig deeper through the fabric and clutch at his skin, his nails already scraping the surface of it. The absence of Jitsui was enough for Yuuki to understand the situation. "Hatano, explain what—"

"You got your fucking information, that's what happened! You put Jitsui's life in danger and now he's dead! He sacrificed himself so you could get your precious documents that the military doesn't even care about!" Hatano breathed in, his face red. "What are you going to do now, hmm?" His face inched closer to Yuuki's, his fists tightening around the cloth in his hands. "What are you going to do once you find these spies? Make them work for us? Interrogate them about their country's war tactics? Hope that our army will finally realize the shit we've gone through to make our country safer?!"

Hatano released Yuuki and pushed him back in his seat once he knew he wasn't going to get a satisfactory answer from him. "Was it not enough to watch our numbers dwindle down to less than a handful? Was Miyoshi's death not enough for you to realize?" Hatano watched as he saw Yuuki's eyes narrow and he knew he hit the mark.

"Right, how could I forget! Your favorite student, Miyoshi. The poor sucker who died in a tragic train accident after reporting to his spy master." Hatano felt like his face was going to combust with how warm it had gotten, all of his pent-up aggression finally reaching an agreeable target. "I'm sure you were heartbroken, weren't you? All that effort into creating the perfect pawn for you to manipulate and it was wasted."

"Hatano." Yuuki spoke in a tone that warned him to cease, but it seemed to have no effect on him now. His warning was overlooked in favor of his apparent meltdown.

"You know, I think you sent us on that mission to get rid of us." Hatano leaned to the side and supported himself by using Yuuki's desk as leverage. "We were one of the few left to play this game of yours and you just decided to throw us away. Kaminaga wasn't good enough for you. No, you had to pick us out one by one until you were satisfied. You just had to add Jitsui to your list of casualties to complete your collection!"

Yuuki stood from his chair and used his height to intimidate Hatano from where he was. If words alone couldn't get him to understand, then other methods were clearly needed. "Jitsui was completely aware of the risks just as you were. You had every chance to walk out of D-Agency and leave this behind."

"Like the others did?"

Yuuki nodded at his question, even though he knew he wasn't looking for confirmation.

Hatano wanted to laugh in Yuuki's face for being so indifferent to the situation. D-Agency was down to three members and he still wanted to keep up this façade of a confident man. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

His question gave Yuuki time to collect his thoughts before deciding to answer. "Tazaki quit immediately after your departure to Sochi."

A pause.

"He quit." Hatano said the words slowly before they had sunk in.

"Yes."

Another pause.

"Why?"

Yuuki leaned more on his cane, still maintaining his disguise even now. "We had gotten confirmation from our network in Shanghai that Fukumoto had been murdered."

Hatano's features softened and his gaze had been dropped to Yuuki's chest.

It was obvious now that Hatano was struggling to cope, not just emotionally, but physically. His assignment alone would have been enough to knock him to his knees. The sudden news of one more death toll was too much for him.

"… So, that's it?"

Yuuki wasn't sure what he meant.

Hatano moved back from his desk, his eyes still unfocused and staring through Yuuki like he wasn't even there. He was disassociating himself from the situation. One of the methods Yuuki had taught him while training to become a spy.

He knew better than to try to snap him out of it, unable to find better words to help bring him back. He received Amari's letter just a day before, claiming that he would be returning to Tokyo with a child named Emma. However, Yuuki knew that his presence alone wouldn't get through to Hatano. He wasn't returning as a spy, on top of it all.

"You're free to leave."

Yuuki had almost believed that he only he had heard himself speak, his words hardly audible even from where Hatano was standing. His own voice wasn't recognizable from the way he had mumbled it, unsure of what to do.

His student finally looked up and met his eyes, his words parroting his. "I'm free to leave?" it was like Hatano couldn't believe he had actually said it.

"I mean it. You can leave if you want." There was nothing keeping Hatano from staying here now. His agency that he had worked so hard in developing had crumbled into nothing but a defected machine with missing parts. Hatano alone couldn't carry out missions anymore.

"Where am I supposed to go?"

Yuuki recalled the day he had picked Hatano off from the street, giving him the chance to take his exam. He didn't have a home to return to. "I can arrange an apartment for you to live in until you can get yourself on your feet." Yuuki would even pull some strings to get him a job before the military would eventually call him into battle. Though, he supposed he could keep his presence a secret from the IJA until the damn war was over so Hatano could have a life of his own.

It was the least he could do after everything.