There wasn't a specific time of day, although it was ten times worse during the night. Perhaps it was the overall lack of visibility that triggered her tumbling response. Not being able to see encapsulated various nuances of fear. Dread and panic always clung to the shadows, and the outlines of their void never ceased to follow her toes. She knew that the day would come, but struggled to foresee the preservation of her sanity into the unknown, and the unknown was her future.
There had been many pains that were haunting her lately. Her eyes burned from her pitiful sleep schedule. Her knees were purple and blue from fresh bruises acquired on the job. And her back was endlessly aching, yet surely her chest pain was all in her mind, her once clear, healthy mind. There was no visible indication of trauma or injury, and yet, she felt it all the same. Therefore, she imagined that everywhere she stepped left a path of invisible blood; a trail of desperation. It was a sacrificial trail, bled to lead him back to her.
With a zip, she pulled a thin archaic string to open the rows of blinds. In his abandoned safe house, technology ceased to evolve. She admired the stark contrast of life in his world compared to her own. Still, he was absent from her existence, and so it was lacking in comfort after all. Through the window, the ocean's tempest stole the view. It appeared black and tar-like, twisting and falling into itself as if at war with its changing soul. Far off near shore, a star of light from a half-collapsed lighthouse directed her eye toward a cluster of wrecked ships. In the night, their silhouettes were cast together creating a mass of mangled sails tied to rotting wood. She wondered who would bother to maintain a source of light in such a tower that shone on such shattered, broken things. She hoped it was him, but then the light would burn out one day.
Stepping away from the window, she wandered to his desk. It was clean of scattered clutter and everything of importance. What he did leave behind were mountains of paper crafted from the floor up. She had been through the rejected records a million times and more, hoping to find at least one single hint as to where he was now. The only information she could confirm was that he had left the country altogether. This she knew from instinct alone, which was a flaw in her judgement to assume, but still, she had no doubt. He felt so far away.
Collecting the stacks of documents, she began placing them in boxes. Her initial goal was to re-analyze every word in each sentence, but it had consumed too much time away from her apartment and left her with no other option; she had to take them with her.
Among the piles there were coordinates of old army bases, strategic plans from extinct naval intelligence, and essays from various accredited latent criminals who fell victim to the system. The mass of information was a mixture of science, mathematics, and philosophy; too diverse for her to extract a potential plan of action. She was left bemused and aggravated each time a lead looked more and more unlikely. But still, she continued regardless of her frustrations.
The mountain of paper had finally diminished into a small plateau. She had packed three boxes to the brim, and re-organized them according to their estimated importance. Starting to feel the lack of sleep cloud her mind, she made her way to the couch.
The black leather felt cold on first touch. She swung her legs up and then curled into a ball facing the only source of light that came from the very distant square window. She could have laid there for hours with everything on her mind, but that night it was only his memory that crossed her thoughts.
She kept her breathing steady but wanted to hold in each breath, knowing that he was once there, resting his head where hers now lay. Even his cologne had not forsaken his sanctuary. And then it came, closing her eyes, she fell into the darkness.
"You haven't found it yet, have you?"
Her eyes were closed and wouldn't open despite using all her will, but still, she knew that voice. Weightless limbs refused to move. She was captured in an orb of darkness, paralyzed, but not alone.
Lips parted ever so slightly, and whispered, "What am I looking for?"
The black fog that enclosed her body swayed and enveloped her soul, rippling in waves of pulsations.
At first his tone refracted far away like an echo, but now it was as if he was holding her in an embrace. His husky voice vibrated the hollow wall of her ribs.
"You are smart detective, you will find it soon enough."
Her finger twitched to clasp his spirit, desperate to hold him prisoner.
"Where are you?" she breathed.
"I am in a place, where you can never go."
She surrendered to the pull of the shadow that danced with his spirit blindly in the dark. The moon had a similar pull on the ocean's tide. His waves filled her heart and drowned her lungs in a rush of unbound power.
"Kogami, Come back to me."
A tempest ignited her blood. The performance of his storm swallowed her every breath. Warmth in her hands traveled to her lips. Still, she was powerless to it all. Only his presence within her could move her feather-lite form. And as quick as his grasp smothered her light, he was gone.
It all fell into a stillness of frozen seas. No warmth to thaw her heart. His ghost abandoned her, ignoring her only request.
Eyelashes separating, a blue radiance outlined the curve of her cheek. The ocean still sang of crashing sails, and his neon clock glowed through all the black. She could move her body, but still lay unchanged from when she fell asleep.
She breathed. His scent still filled her lungs and her chest still fell with pain.
She twisted her neck to gaze at the textured ceiling. It was another minute detail that differentiated the times in which they belonged to. He now lived in the past, yet his memory would live in her future. A chill rippled through her arms causing peaks of naked flesh to rise. Wanting to burrow deeper into the warmed cushions, she slowly rolled back into the wrinkled crease.
As her body sunk lower, suddenly something sharp pierced her hip. She yelped and rubbed the stinging pain away. Pushing away from the side, she reached behind her back and dipped her hand between the two cushions. Careful with her touch, she brushed her finger tips against the cold leather, plunging deeper and deeper until she found it.
Drawing up the hidden weapon revealed that it was not what she expected. Her eyes widened as she held a white, 4 x 6 envelop with nothing on the front except the name of the person she was searching for. Yet, it was not the dispatch itself that surprised her the most. Even though stationary was a rare commodity and scarily used, she had seen various correspondents communicate in such an ancient fashion. Her finger mindlessly traced over the cursive "o". It wasn't the letter's existence; it was the writer's handwriting.
She only knew of one person who crossed their o's in the same very distinct way, and he just so happened to be Kogami's ex partner: Ginoza.
She grasped the fold of the letter under the triangle flap and pulled it from its sleeve. The paper had been folded many times and previously in a different pattern until the existing creases became its permanent way of rest. A slight smile curved the corner of her lips as she opened the message and recognized a clumsy coffee stain splattered diagonally across the bottom. The drifting aroma still clung to the wrinkled paper, and some black ink pooled to mix with the brown spill. However, the words were written in such a way that their character was well preserved.
About your concerns, I shall offer you only the smallest consolation. As an inspector, she is better than you ever were. But surely you must know that she is not the same. Strangely, your habits have become hers, and sometimes it is like you are talking through her voice. She has the potential to grow and become better than you or I ever was as an inspector. She has the ability to see objectively, and contains a spirit that one can only be born with. You are right that she is strong, but it seems that you have greatly underestimated your influence on her character. Now, I trust that what I have written shall stay between you and me. Also, I convey these concerns not out of sympathy for you, but out of duty to a friend.
She may have forgiven you, but I have not. Nevertheless, there is no turning back for you now. All I ask is for you to give her closure, and then let her go. She needs to stop chasing your shadow. She needs to forget you now.
She read the letter.
And then she read it again.
And then again.
She read the assumptions of her altered character. She read the undeserving accolades and the unwanted expectations, and then she read the reason for it all.
Desperate for more information she flipped it over front and back several times. Only then did the severity of her emotions swallow her.
Anger, betrayal, sorrow, and grief flashed across her face. Each sentence, each word, repeated and echoed through her skull as if the words had been spoken from his mouth.
She needs to forget you now.
Grinding her teeth she wanted to scream.
Reflexively shaking her head, her gaze fell onto the tower of boxes full of his cast away documents. She wanted to kick them over, throw the papers in the air and cry out for all of her questions to be answered.
Her chest heaved and her breath fanned over her cracked lips.
And then she paused, staring at the untouchable light illuminating the broken far off sails. Kogami had read the letter numerous times. The proof was in its wasting condition. And yet, he left it behind, and in the same state as how he had abandoned her.
She shuttered as her hands grasped bent knees. White knuckles quivered as drops of the ocean fell from her cheeks.
"Kogami, come back to me."