There had been six times he had her accompany him to his father's grave, and in three out of six of them he had seen her cry in silence.
It was customary for Enforcer Ginoza Nobuchika to visit his father's grave in October and June. October for the commemoration of his passing and June for his birthday. Should those times of the year arrive, Inspector Tsunemori Akane would accompany him in these occasions.
And in these occasions too, he would find a sight he so rarely see of his inspector.
The first one occurred in his forth visit. Ginoza was late a couple of weeks behind his father's death anniversary as Division One was previously preoccupied with the Kamui case. After the case was closed, he delayed no further. Tsunemori was more than happy to accompany him. He knew the case had been more than she can handle so she welcomed the prospect of leaving the Nona Tower even for a short while.
As usual, Tsunemori would wait by the car while leaving Ginoza be for an hour or so. Only this time, Ginoza returned to see the inspector in the verge of trees.
With her right hand carrying a lit cigarette and her left hand covering her mouth, her tears fell slowly like the surrounding autumn leaves.
"Obaa-chan…I'm so sorry…" she murmured between sobs.
Ginoza went numb. He had never seen her so…vulnerable and exposed. Sure, he had seen her at her lowest, but…he never expected to see this side of her.
Confused and at a loss of words, Ginoza froze. He did not step back nor advance to her side. Did Tsunemori notice that he was watching? She did not look like she knew…or cared.
Tsunemori continued to sob, until she finally calm down. Ginoza watched her drop the cigarette she was holding before she stomped it with her right foot. He mentally took this as a signal to return to her side. Keeping his calm demeanor, he decided to act as if nothing happened.
"Thank you, Tsunemori. Let's head back."
Tsunemori braved a smile.
"Let's go."
The second time was during Masaoka's birthday. Ginoza remembered it was a blazing hot day. The paper headline was still etched in his mind: the hottest day ever recorded in the 2100s.
Division One was lucky the cases that occurred during that summer were petty and sometimes laughable. Perhaps latent criminals were out in their summer holiday. Either way, Ginoza was available to visit his father's grave exactly on June 27th.
Tsunemori, again, offered to wait by the car. As usual, Ginoza complied and left her for about an hour.
Again, he saw them. The tears streaming from Tsunemori's chestnut eyes. At first he wanted to wistfully think they were sweat droplets, but then he would be fooling himself. Tsunemori was crying in the exact same manner as he remembered. Right hand holding burning a cigarette, left hand covering her mouth. Sobs soft and somewhat inaudible.
And again, Ginoza can only watch her, dumbfounded.
The third time was in the following October. They were in the middle of the mid-autumn rain. A cold shower was pouring down between the car window wipers. Before dropping Ginoza by the cemetery entrance, Tsunemori pointed out that he should take an umbrella from the car luggage and that she would look for a parking space nearby.
Covered in his father's khaki trench coat and an umbrella, Ginoza made his way to pay his respects. In the back of his mind, he knew Tsunemori would look for another spot where she can cry in silence. Knowing this would happen, he knew he could not stay longer than he usually did.
After approximately 40 minutes, Ginoza wandered to look for a MWPSB-crested car. When he found it parked by an old Acacia tree, he found the driver to be nowhere in sight.
It was almost immediate when he found Tsunemori outside of the car, leaning on the tree, letting out sobs that were drowned by the sound of the rain. Her face was wet as her whole body was drenched. The only umbrella in the car was the one he was using, after all.
Being so inept in human intimacy, the only gesture Ginoza can manage was covering Tsunemori with the umbrella he was holding. He moved close enough to ensure the frontmost tip of the umbrella was above her.
There was no way she did not notice he was watching. Yet, she continued her sobs, and Ginoza continued to cover her.
Ginoza never visited Masaoka on New Year's, which would now be his first. Tsunemori, who was on-duty for the holiday, drove him to the cemetery. None of them spoke a word about what had occurred in their last visit. Ginoza knew Tsunemori did not want to burden him with her troubles. As worried as he always was with her, he decided to keep it to himself so long her hue was still clear.
Unlike in the center of the city, the snow was relatively thick in the suburbs. The storm had stopped the night before and left a drizzle of snowflakes in its wake. It was wise to wear layers of clothing in this weather, which was what Ginoza prepared.
Ginoza and Tsunemori only exchanged knowing looks before they separated. In truth, he was upset she did not mention anything to him, yet he knew this was none of his business. On the contrary, he decided that turning a blind eye would make it easier, but then he would not be known as the worrywart that he was.
After leaving a glass of scotch and burnt incense on his father's gravestone, he walked back to the MWPSB car. Again, he found Tsunemori slouched just a few steps from the car.
This time, she had no cigarette in hand. A part of him sighed in relief. It seemed like the events in Shambala Float had helped her reached closure in one aspect of her life.
Still, she was sobbing all the same. Her sobs were void of words. Could this be how Tsunemori dealt with everything all this time?
Ever since the Makishima case and the death of her grandmother in the Kamui case, Tsunemori had kept everyone at arms' length. Despite going way back, Ginoza was no exception. On one side, this was called for. On another side, he wished she would confide to him. After all…if she did not have anyone to confide to, where does that leave her?
And now, when he finally got his answer, he remained unsure. Being someone who had always relied on everything by himself, he was alien to the concept of seeking comfort. Yet, he knew she needed him, even though all words were lost.
"Tsunemori,"
Ginoza engulfed Tsunemori with his trench coat. He had the coat hang above her head, as if to add more warmth to her currently redden face. He gently placed his flesh hand on her coat-covered head.
"Please, let it all out, or your psycho-pass would get clouded," he softly mentioned as he brushed the top of her head.
Tsunemori did not budge an inch. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Her sobs were as soft and inaudible as they were before. However, this time, she did not bother to stop. She continued on as Ginoza's hand rested on her head.
This was her way of telling him that she did not have anything else to hide from him. And for him, that was enough.
At least, Tsunemori doesn't need to cry alone anymore.