Chapter 29

Interrogation rooms were never a pleasant place. They were bare, cold, uncomfortable both physically and mentally for the interrogee. Their interrogation rooms had rough-looking walls and metal floors that sapped heat from bare feet. This room was even barer than most, possessing only a table and two chairs, as Kirigiri had advised Togami to clean it of possible weapons beforehand. Technically, Ikusaba was a victim, which meant it would be improper to restrain her as they would their typical suspect. Hence why Oogami watched from the other side of the one-way glass, ready to intervene.

Togami was there when Kirigiri entered the room. For whatever reason, the chief had found it fit to stand – ah, going by body language, Ikusaba had refused to talk and damaged his ego. Togami nodded at her, and then left to take a position outside the room next to Oogami. Kirigiri made a show of checking her phone, allowing the awkward silence to linger on, hoping it would unnerve the suspect victim.

The chair scraped against the floor as Kirigiri pulled it out. It was the only sound for a good while. Ikusaba wouldn't look at her; she straight down at her lap and nothing else. Clearing her throat didn't draw attention, nor did tapping on the table. Only saying Ikusaba's name aloud got those reluctant eyes to focus on her.

"Do you know why you're here?" Kirigiri asked. She reminded herself Ikusaba was supposed to be a victim.

Ikusaba said nothing.

Kirigiri reached into the folder she had brought with her and pulled out a picture of Ikusaba's father. She slid it across the table to where Ikusaba couldn't miss it. The other woman recognized him; Kirigiri saw it in the way her body became stone. But it was a weak stone, a stone chipping all over.

"This is your father."

"Yes."

"He was murdered."

She heard Ikusaba shift in her seat. ". . . Yes."

"What do you know about that?"

A long silence. "Nothing."

Too bad Naegi wasn't here. He would have gotten a lot more out of her withdrawn witness. "According to our records, you were reported missing shortly after your father died. Would you agree with this?"

". . . I guess."

Ikusaba was looking everywhere but at the picture of her father, as if fearing she would break down at the sight of it. That was encouraging. It suggested Ikusaba still had an emotional connection to him, and thus would be more cooperative with some encouragement.

Kirigiri threaded her fingers together on the tabletop. "Ikusaba-san, we did not have the greatest start and I apologize for that. However, I was unaware of your situation at the time. Regardless of what you may think, we are here to help you. We want to bring you and your father justice. Ikusaba-san, who abducted you?"

Ikusaba was silent.

"Ikusaba-san, I don't know what your kidnapper told you, but let me tell you this: you are safe. We are here to protect you from whomever is threatening you."

"Safe?" Ikusaba said. "From what? They're saving me."

"Was your life with your father unpleasant?"

"No," Ikusaba said. "He did the best he could, but he was only human."

"Ikusaba-san, they took you from your family," Kirigiri stressed. "These people took you from your home and murdered him. Is that okay with you?"

"It was their right," Ikusaba said quietly. "He didn't have any right to stop them. He should have let me go."

". . . So, your kidnapping was consensual?"

"I didn't understand at the time," Ikusaba said, "but I do now. She wanted to save me. I couldn't even remember her, but she saved me."

"You're talking about Enoshima Junko, correct?"

Ikusaba inhaled sharply. Kirigiri didn't need that hint to know her assumption was correct. So, Enoshima was the instigator . . . but she would have been Ikusaba's age, well before the age of culpability. It was extremely unlikely that Enoshima had understood what her request would lead to. What was more important was whom would have carried out the request on Enoshima's behalf: Hope's Peak.

"Allow me to voice my theory," Kirigiri said. "Hope's Peak took in your sister at a young age. However, Enoshima-san missed her older sister and requested that you be found. Hope's Peak sent an agent to retrieve you, killing your father when he resisted. Am I correct?"

Ikusaba shook her head. "They didn't do anything wrong!"

"But they did do it."

"N-no!" Ikusaba lied.

They were getting somewhere, but it wasn't enough. Ikusaba wasn't giving in, but Kirigiri knew why. Flashes of memories, of Ikusaba trailing after her sister, shot through her mind. Enoshima Junko was the reason that Ikusaba wouldn't talk. It was the older sibling complex, the very same one Naegi possessed that stood in her way now. And that wasn't a problem.

"Ikusaba-san," she tried to soften her voice. Not too much though; something that uncharacteristic would frighten the woman. "You were just a child when this happened. Your sister was, too. Even if she instigated this, no one is going to hold her responsible. She wouldn't have known the consequences of what she was asking. Your sister is as much of a victim as you are."

Ikusaba's lower lip wobbled. "Stop."

Weakness. A chink in the armour. Restless, Kirigiri stood. The height difference would exploit that weakness, batter against Ikusaba's psychological barrier. She stood next to Ikusaba and laid a hand on her shoulder like a comforting parent.

"Ikusaba-san, we can help both of you. You and your sister. But we need your help to do that."

Ikusaba wrenched her head away. She was shaking. "I don't know what to do!"

Kirigiri leaned down so they would be eye-level. "Tell me what happened."

Ikusaba was silent.

"Ikusaba-san –"

"Will you get out of my face already?"

Kirigiri blinked. That made her hesitate, and that hesitation made her take too long for Ikusaba's liking. The woman put a hand on Kirigiri's chest and shoved her back, crossing her legs afterwards. She idly examined her nails.

"Seriously, do you know how annoying you are?" Ikusaba drawled. She drawled. "I already told you that I have nothing to say."

What?

"Oi, you!" Ikusaba snapped her fingers at the one-way glass. "Get me some water."

Seriously: What?

"Well, if Mr. I'm So Tough Police Chief won't do it, guess it's up to you, Kirigiri-san! A pitcher of ice water will do."

Her first attempt at speech tripped over her tongue because what? "I don't need to –"

"Uh, actually, you do," Ikusaba said. She looked up from her nails. "Last time I checked, you guys were forbidden from torturing others, and withholding the necessities of life is torture. . . So, get moving!"

Ikusaba gestured to the door.

Kirigiri left. She had to. She couldn't stand in that room and keep her composure while listening to Ikusaba hum cheerfully to herself. This was real, right?

". . . You never told me Ikusaba had a split personality," Togami said once she was out of the room.

"She doesn't . . . I didn't think she did."

"Right."

Oogami passed them with a pitcher and glass. Inside the room, she held it out to Ikusaba who snatched it away. Immediately, the woman poured herself a glass and sipped it like she was drinking a cocktail at the beach. She wiped her lips with an exaggerated smack, and stared straight at the one-way glass (at them.)

"She might be having a nervous breakdown," Kirigiri said. "Let's give her a break."

She and Togami strolled through the station together. The others veered out of their way, knowing that when Kirigiri and Togami were together, it meant Serious Business. A couple of minutes into their walk, Togami began talking.

"It isn't enough. We can't conclusively prove Ikusaba was talking about Hope's Peak."

"Give it some time," she said. "I'll break her."

Kirigiri took a lunch break in her office. Called up Maizono and checked on Naegi. An hour later, she and Togami were ready for round two. They headed down to the room Ikusaba was in and . . .

She wasn't there.

That was impossible. The rooms locked from the outside, and Kirigiri had taken special care to lock Ikusaba in. That would suggest that someone had released Ikusaba, and the most likely candidate was Ishimaru, who had been assigned to watch her during their break. Furthermore, Ikusaba wasn't the only missing person; Ishimaru wasn't present either. Togami had already realized that and was on his phone demanding that Ishimaru return immediately.

Thankfully, Ishimaru appeared unharmed when he arrived. The officer stopped before them, still lacking his usual boisterous spirit, heels merely tapping each other instead of clicking in a salute.

"Chief. Detective Kirigiri-san. What do you require?"

"Where's Ikusaba?" Kirigiri asked.

"Ikusaba Mukuro?" Ishimaru furrowed his eyebrows. "I escorted her off the premises half an hour ago."

"You did what?" Togami demanded, the force of his shout nearly knocking Ishimaru back. "What gave you the brilliant plan to do that?"

"The paperwork said that she was to be released."

"Someone signed release papers for her? This has to be a joke," Kirigiri muttered. Administrative errors happened, but if this turned out to be the cause, Kirigiri was going to murder the one responsible. "Do you remember who signed off on it?"

Ishimaru gave her an odd look. "Yes."

"Who signed those papers?"

Ishimaru stared at her. "You did."

Togami slowly turned to look at her.

"You're mistaken," Kirigiri said instantly.

"Ngh!" Ishimaru looked hurt by her attack on his memory. "I have made no mistake! The signature was yours, and the clerk who gave me the paperwork said you had personally requested it be delivered to me."

"You're mistaken," Kirigiri said again, placing more stress on the words. "I've spent the last hour in my office. I didn't speak to anyone here or complete any paperwork."

". . . Do you have proof?"

She assumed Togami was talking to Ishimaru. But when the silence stretched on and she saw Togami's cold eyes on her, she realized she had been very, very wrong.

"What are you implying?" she asked.

Togami held her gaze. "Officer Ishimaru, return to your duties."

Ishimaru, completely oblivious to the bubbling tension before him, walked out. Kirigiri immediately rounded on Togami because what was he accusing her of?

"You're on administrative leave for a week," Togami said. And he started to walk off.

"I didn't sign those papers," she snapped after him. She followed him furiously, refusing to be ignored. "I am not going on leave."

He stopped suddenly. "Did you hit your head recently?"

What was he –?

"Are you having issues with your father again? Is it your grandfather this time? Or have you been secretly dying of pneumonia this entire time and didn't see it fit to tell me?"

"Where is this coming from?" she said.

Togami adjusted his glasses. "You've been off your game almost from the very beginning. Talking about caverns no one else seems able to find, harassing witnesses, exceedingly reckless behaviour and that nonsense with your car. . . I know all about your nervous breakdown yesterday. You and Naegi are off this case until further notice."

"Then what? You're going to put Asahina-san on the case? I'm the only one who can handle this!"

"And what a great job you're doing," Togami scoffed. "Needing a murder suspect to drive you home. Face it: you two are a danger to the investigation."

"You're making a big mistake."

"No, I'm not," Togami said. "In fact, I think two months from now you'll be begging me to bury all memory of your behaviour during this case. You're a risktaker, and I respect that, but there's a difference between taking risks and acting like an idiot. You've been toeing the wrong side of the line recently."

This was among some of the very last things she had expected Togami to ever say to her. That allowed him to speak again before she could retaliate.

"Kirigiri, I am going to give you one chance to come clean. Do you have some relation to Hope's Peak that you haven't told me about? Because the way you've been acting . . . it's almost as if you know you're not in danger."

"I have no history with them," she said, glaring at him for even entertaining the thought.

"If that's the case . . ." He turned his back on her. "Go home."

But Kirigiri wouldn't be ignored. "You have no right –"

"I think," Togami said loudly, turning the heads of a couple of people walking by, "you've forgotten where you stand. I've let you conduct your investigations how you've seen fit and ignored all the laws you've bent along the way. It appears, however, in doing so, I've allowed you to forget one key detail: I am your boss. I am the only one with the right to say who works which case. Now, be a good employee and go home."


Kirigiri hadn't been thrown off a case since she was a young girl. Even then, it was always because of perceived danger to her wellbeing and never a question of competence. To experience this now, at her age, at her level of expertise. . . she would have rather stuck her hands in a fire. For once, she was glad her car had gone missing, because she didn't think she was in any state to drive.

Before she walked through the front door, she took a minute to calm herself. Maizono was inside, and the woman was sharp; the last thing Kirigiri wanted was to explain why she was angry. It would already be bad enough when she had to explain what had happened to Naegi.

Shortly after she walked in, Maizono came down the stairs. She offered a small smile and a respectful nod before launching into what Kirigiri wanted to hear.

"He's awake now. He seems fine. But," she giggled, "he talks more in his sleep than I remember."

"He doesn't usually."

They looked at each other awkwardly, recognizing that Maizono's statement might not suggest he was fine.

"He was convinced that one of Hagakure-kun's theories is true," Maizono said. "He didn't say which, but personally I'm hoping it's the one where aliens stole his burger."

"Sounds like an interesting dream." She shrugged off her coat and hung it on a nearby hanger.

"Who's Tanaka?"

Kirigiri froze. "Why do you ask?"

"Naegi-kun was asking for him in his sleep," Maizono said. "He kept saying he needed to talk to Tanaka."

"That dream seems to have given him quite the affinity for lunatics," Kirigiri said as she took off her shoes.

"I suppose," Maizono said lightly. "Is everything okay?"

"We're fine," she said automatically.

Maizono was staring too much. She didn't believe her. It made no difference. If Kirigiri were to talk about what had happened, about how everyone was insisting she couldn't tell two hours from two days (a nervous breakdown, Togami had called it!), Maizono wouldn't believe her. How could she, when even Naegi called her a liar?

The doorbell rang.

Her spirits rose. Togami had come to his senses and was here to grovel (which in Togami language, meant he would insist on giving her a 'second chance') for her return. Served him right. She still hadn't accepted that –

She opened the door.

She shut the door.

"Who was that?" Maizono asked.

"Nobody important." She left it there. Let Maizono think it was a solicitor. She didn't want to explain –

A knock on the door. "Kyoko-chan, you don't have to let me in. I just wanted to say hi."

Hand over her mouth, Maizono looked like she wasn't sure whether to laugh or gasp. Meanwhile, Kirigiri was quietly stewing. Kyoko-chan? After all this time he thought he could march in here and call her that? The arrogance of this man outdid even Komaeda Nagito.

Maizono glanced at the door. "Uh. . ."

"It's nobody important," Kirigiri insisted as the man at the door kept knocking.

"Are you sure . . .?"

"Let's sit down. I'll make you some tea," she said quickly, walking off before Maizono could ask another question.

Maizono wasn't dumb. She recognized a change of topic when she heard one. They down in the kitchen together over tea, Maizono fighting not to look back. Her struggle was betrayed in the restless drumming of her fingers along the cup's rim, on the slightly excessive energy in her tone. Still, Kirigiri appreciated the thought –

They both heard the front door open. How –?

Oh. That was right. Maizono said Naegi was awake.

Reach door. Close door. Say nothing. That was all she had to do. It wasn't like Naegi had deliberately done this. She could imagine him frantically speaking right now, trying to buy time as he figured out what to do.

Her mental image was correct. Naegi was indeed speaking quickly, his body in the doorway, serving as a makeshift barrier. The man he spoke to wore a pleasant smile, but she wasn't fooled.

The man waved. "Hello. . .!"

She shut the door on her father.

As she dragged Naegi away, Jin shouted through the door. "I was in the neighbourhood, so I just wanted to say hi. I'm at a nearby hotel for the next little while."

"I don't believe him!" Kirigiri hissed. "Of all times, he has to show up now. What will it take to make him realize I don't want to see him?"

Naegi said nothing. Knowing him, he thought she should make up with her father, but he was supportive enough not to say it.

"This is just . . ." She trailed off. As she entered the kitchen, it was like someone had flipped a switch. Her energy vanished, leaving her without the will to finish that sentence, without the strength to stand. She collapsed into a chair, head in her hands. When it rained, it poured, so the saying went. How true it was.

"Kirigiri-san, are you okay?" Naegi rubbed a circle into her back.

No, she wanted to say. Her lips couldn't form words, however.

"You know I'm here for you," Naegi said. "You can tell me whenever you're ready."

(But I already did, and you didn't believe a word of it.)

Her fingers curled around his wrist. Then, she tangled her fingers with the back of his hair and yanked him forward. Their lips slammed together, squeezing out a sound of surprise from him.

"Distract me," she murmured.

Naegi swallowed. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips –

Someone cleared their throat.

They both turned their heads.

". . . I think I'll be leaving now," Maizono said.