Chapter 14

The next morning, Mayor Harufumi Fuwa woke up next to Yayoi, his wife.

He looked up at the ceiling and took some time to gather his surroundings. Yayoi's warmth was the familiar relief he always craved. Yet, he could not explain the foreboding feeling he suddenly had.

Harufumi leaned forward on his elbows and gazed at Yayoi, who was lying on her side with her back to him. Her yukata, with a soft petal color and cherry blossom pattern which had faded due to frequent use, was skewed, indicating her restless sleep.

Looking intently at his wife, Harufumi could see that even sleep could not ease her tiredness. Her body, already ravaged by her illness, was further consumed by the constant grief caused by their son. He felt absolutely guilty that even after she was freed from slavery, she still had to live like one, treated like dirt by her own flesh and blood.

But never had he regretted redeeming and marrying her, even after being disowned by his parents.

The three-eyed chain peeking from the collar of her yukata caught his attention. It was surrounded by newer scar tissues, the result of one of her desperate attempts to erase the proof of her humiliating past. However even with those scars, the brand still blared against her pale skin.

Reminded of his conversation with the young Parliament member Hiroaki Ogata, Harufumi realized that slavery would never end if the society stayed the way it was.

Sighing sadly, he reluctantly got up from bed, away from the Yayoi's comforting presence, and put a lounge robe over his own yukata before heading out of the room down towards the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

As he walked down the grand stairs, he looked at the sculpture of a maiden located near the old grandfather clock at the entrance. It had been there for almost 2 days, after Sho purchased and brought it home from who knew where.

Harufumi had to admit — the sculpted maiden was beautiful with her downy hair and doe eyes. But whenever he laid eyes on it, he could not help feeling that something about it was very wrong.

Speaking of Sho, he mused as he worked on the coffee maker, he was suddenly reminded of his latest conversation with his estranged father. Seeing as Sho was already nearing 20, Grandfather Fuwa thought it was the perfect time for him to get engaged to Erika Koenji, the heiress of Koenji Enterprise, in a political marriage.

While Harufumi was not specifically against the arrangement, he did not think Sho was ready for such a commitment. The boy may have thought himself an already mature man, but his conduct contradicted that arrogance. And as long as Sho did not change his attitude and way of thinking towards his own mother and women in general, Harufumi doubted that whatever marriage his son would have in the future would be a happy one.

The memory of Sho abusing the poor girl before his brief imprisonment made Harufumi shudder in disgust. If it was up to him, Harufumi would have disowned Sho when the boy had purchased a slave the first time; but Yayoi's teary appeal for their son had allowed Sho to stay.

Yayoi had sacrificed herself too much because of her love for her son, Harufumi decided, and this could not be allowed to go on for everyone's sake.

The doorbell rang, surprising the mayor.

The heavy doors opened to reveal a tired-looking man Harufumi recognized as Detective Kuon Hizri. Slightly behind him stood his cousin, ME Shimona Keyes, and several lower-ranking officers.

"I sincerely apologize for intruding this early, Mayor Fuwa," Kuon bowed down in respect towards the older man, his voice laden with tired nervousness. "I hope we didn't disturb your sleep, but there's an urgent matter we need to deal with."

The young detective handed Harufumi an envelope, and he instantly knew what was inside before opening it.

"What has my son done this time?" he asked Kuon resignedly.

The examination on Shotaro's statue did not take long, much to Kuon's delight. To be honest, after slaving himself overnight to get the warrant from Takenori Sawara, a local district prosecutor and longtime friend of Koo and Lory, the detective was ready to hit the sack for the rest of the day.

He also had been nervous while he had waited in front of Fuwa's doors. Harufumi was a very good friend of Koo's, and Kuon personally liked the gentle mayor. He loathed to be the one breaking the bad news to Harufumi; the older man's resigned acceptance towards it had surprised Kuon, and it made Kuon respect Harufumi more.

And in the end, after a simple stethoscope check — really, Kuon had thought it would take more technologically-advanced tests — Shimona was confident the fairy statue adorning the Fuwa family's mansion hall was indeed the missing actress Michika Kawagoe, adding to the streak of good things happening in his day.

But then came the most difficult part. True to his status as the extremely spoiled young master of an esteemed old money family, Shotaro was not an easy person to deal with in early mornings. In fact, when Kuon and his team barged into his room, Sho was still under the covers of his bed, groaning sluggishly in irritation.

"I told you numerous times not to enter my room without permission, Jijii," the boy with bottle blond hair snarled. "Now get out!"

"Sadly I cannot do that, Shotaro Fuwa," Kuon said calmly while he was seething internally, hoping that he could just chuck Sho's ass into the jail without going through the formalities.

To Kuon's amusement, Sho got up instantly, his eyes wide in fright as he looked at Kuon. "I didn't do anything!" Sho exclaimed hastily.

It's so sad to see what a poor liar he is, Kuon mused internally as he rose an eyebrow at the other man-boy. "Strange," he said. "I haven't told you what I came here for, have I?"

"You're a cop," Sho sputtered. "What else do you do other than arresting people here and there?"

"You know, I'm rather hurt when you say it like that," the detective said with an unnerving sparkling smile. "So why don't you come with me, and we can have a long talk about what detectives do?"

Sho instantly looked disgusted. "Thanks but no thanks," he told Kuon. "I have no interest whatsoever in what you do. So why don't you just scram if you need nothing from me?"

At that moment Kuon wanted to do nothing else other than strangling the brat to death. "Unfortunately that's not an option, Shotaro," he said. "Because, you see, I have a warrant here, and it clearly indicates you as a suspect in a case we're currently investigating."

"Bullshit!" Sho growled. "I have nothing to say to that since I know nothing. Someone else is trying to frame me!"

"Not my problem," Kuon snarled back, his patience running on a very thin line that could snap any moment. "You have only 2 options at the moment: come with us willingly, or we can drag you screaming to the precinct for refusing to cooperate. Which one will you choose?"

In the end, Harufumi and Yayoi — the latter had been woken up by the commotion — had to watch their son being dragged out in handcuffs, screaming and struggling with his legs kicking around like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

The prolonged gloomy, stormy weather of Neopolis had finally turned into a pleasantly warm, sunny one, and in such day, Julie had decided that it was high time for Kyoko to get some clothes for herself.

The two females drove to Harajuku, a very old Japanese shopping district preserved and restored numerous times thanks to its reputation in the Eastern and Western cultures. Even so, the district itself did not look historical at all, and Kyoko was amazed at how people dressed in different fashions crowded the streets and buildings that had small signs of being recently renovated.

Once out of the car, Julie steered Kyoko towards the rows of clothing stores with eye-catching windows. "You are free to look anywhere you like, Sweetheart," the older woman said with a sweet smile. "And if you like something, don't hesitate to try it on, and then we can buy some that looks nice on you."

They went into the nearest store, which shelves were filled with piles of tops, pants, skirts, and dresses made of materials that were soft to the touch. The styles, Kyoko mused, were very different from the late Setsuka Heel's — judging from the hand-down clothes given by Seijuro, his daughter would have eyed the shop in distaste and settled for anything sexy, preferably made of leather instead of silk.

"Oh, that one's nice," Kyoko barely heard Julie murmur in appreciation before the older woman wandered off. Not having any idea of what to get, Kyoko browsed absently, pausing here and there at times to look at things that caught her interest, but not daring to take them to the fitting room.

A moment later Julie found her, bringing a pile of clothes she unceremoniously dumped onto Kyoko's arms. "Try these, Dear," Julie told Kyoko as she dragged the girl to the fitting room, "and show me how they look once you have them on."

Once inside the cubicle, Kyoko looked at each of the items Julie had urged her to try on. A lot of them were dresses and feminine tops fit for a sophisticated modern lady, but there were also long chinos thrown into the mix.

First she put on a short dress with a sheer chiffon outer layer that made it seem like two dresses sewn together on top of each other. It fell nicely on her slender body and ended just at the top of her knees. Kyoko decided she liked it.

Even Julie loudly agreed.

Next came a crepe summer dress with the color of mint. The sleeves were loose and, together with a pair of spaghetti straps, exposed her shoulders. The material was creased and easily flowed, perfect for hot weather.

Julie mulled over that one. "We can make it work," she told her. "Maybe a pair of leggings and a belt will do." And she went around some more to find said items.

The rest was a blur of changing clothes and showing them to Julie for Kyoko, and finally she was to try a combination of a long-sleeved, tight-fitting shirt with wide slits on the upper arms, and a pair of skinny chinos.

They were a nice fit for her, even making her look mature, but as Kyoko looked at her reflection on the mirror, her mood suddenly plummeted down with horror.

Something looked — no, felt — very wrong; so wrong that Kyoko could feel herself freeze in unexplainable fright while beads of cold sweat started rolling down her face.

"Kyoko, are you alright in there?" Julie's worried voice startled her amidst the knocking on the door.

Gulping and shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Kyoko replied, "I'm okay, Julie-san." She wanted to believe that her voice was steady when she had said it, but it had come out as if she had been dunked into icy water.

She gingerly looked back at the mirror. With her eyes wide, there was nothing wrong with her reflection. But when she narrowed her eyes just a little, Kyoko swore she could see someone else gazing back at her with a sultry smile and an assessing gaze partly hidden by her chestnut bangs — Kyoko's hair color before Julie had dyed it black.

And somehow, Kyoko felt like she had seen her often before.

"What do you mean he was released on bail?!" Rick exclaimed in rage.

Ruca Port, a big-boned warden of the detention center — although Rick believed the phrase 'couch potato' would be more befitting — put his beefy hands up in front of his chest in a placating manner, shielding himself from the furious Rick.

"Man, chill!" Port told Rick with a smothered laugh, further ticking Rick off. "I meant what I said; Miroku was released earlier. Someone paid a handsome bail for 'im."

Huffing in frustration, Rick straightened up, raking his hand roughly through his dark hair. He had thought to make Miroku cough up some info on the mole in the police force, maybe a bit extra on the silver-haired freak from the living art auction. Now that Miroku had been released and probably had gone into hiding, his investigation had come to a dead end until he could find another lead or a chance to turn every stone and corner until he found Miroku.

Also, Miroku was possibly an important suspect of the illegal human trafficking in Neopolis. God knew what Kuon's reaction would be when he heard about this.

"Sonofabitch," Rick swore under his breath before glaring again at Port. "By whose authority was Miroku released? I swear on my dad's grave, if you let him go as you liked without asking your superior—"

"But the Chief of Police himself gave the permission!" Port blurted out.

Rick was completely stunned, so much so that it took him some time to recollect himself. "You'd better not joke around, Port."

"I'm not," Port insisted. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Rick was tempted to point out how gay Port had sounded, but he decided to think about the more pressing issue.

Lory Takarada gave the approval of Miroku's release, knowing full well the convict was possibly a major member of the trafficking ring. The flamboyant man also had been the one who had disapproved Shingai's squad from giving backup during the living art auction.

A frown creased Rick's eyebrows. It seemed his investigation would have to start with the Chief of Police himself.

Disclaimer: I do not own Skip-Beat!

Beta-read by [rsrdiall]. Thank you for pointing out the mistake about Erika's surname.

Author's Note:

There are 1 good news and 1 bad news. The good news is, I finally got a job, which leads to the bad news: longer wait for updates. My most humble apology in advance.

The clothes Kyoko tried on in this chapter are my own clothes. I also took a liberty, as a fan of Ace Attorney games, to create the name of an OC using wordplays and anagrams. Feel free to have a guess.

Thank you for reading. Until next time.

- Reggie