May 25th, 2018
"Chen-san. You have visitors."
Chen Jianhong cracked one eye open to glower at the guard as the door to his cell swung open. His cellmate twiddled his thumbs, trying his best not to be noticed. "Visitors?" Chen gruffed, sitting up. Who the fuck would be visiting me? The old man? Yeah right...
Begrudgingly, Chen allowed the guard to lead him to the visitor room without any trouble, where he would speak to whoever decided to drop by behind a protective screen.
They were suits, the two of them. Pretentious bastards. Who were they, anyway? Chen resisted the urge to spit at their faces as he took a seat in front of them, slumping at the counter.
"Hello, Chen-san," greeted the older of the two. "You may call me Prosecutor Karasuda. This is my colleague," he gestured to the other man, "Prosecutor Sakusa."
Prosecutors? Like lawyers? "What do you want from me?" Chen demanded.
"We'd like to make you a deal."
A deal? "I'm listening..."
Karasuda laced his fingers together, an unnervingly affable smile pulling at the corners of his chapped lips.
May 31st, 2018
"What?!"
Shō's outburst echoed in the silent courtroom. Every single pair of eyes had turned to him, and Musashi could practically see the blood draining out of his client's face as he wilted in his seat.
Well, well, well. Things just got interesting. Are we in trouble? Heh. "Please, settle down, Shō-san," Musashi said genially. "I apologize to the court on behalf of my client." He dipped his head to the judging panel. As Mahiro began to talk again, Musashi turned his gaze to the gallery, briefly locking eyes with his son, then his daughter. They weren't sitting together. Rina and Tetsurou probably didn't even recognize one another. A pang of sadness hit his heart, but he shook it away.
In the audience, tucked in the corner seats, a duo hailing from Hyogo Prefecture sat together. Decked head to toe in denim, Suna Rintarou remained impassive as Shō—white as a ghost—tried and failed to relax. He leaned to his left, shoulder resting against Ojiro Aran's broader one.
"What do you think?" whispered Suna.
Aran didn't look at him as he muttered back, "His reaction pretty much proves it, in my opinion."
"Mm."
When the news of Goshiki's fall and the director's confession first broke, Suna had immediately followed up every source online. He'd been keeping up ever since, and as soon as the trial date had been announced, he had called Aran, knowing that his former Inarizaki teammate had known Miya Atsumu—Osamu's twin—for a while. They'd flown all the way from Hyogo on the twenty-ninth, and currently resided in a nearby hotel.
Despite the hard fight for justice the prosecuting team and the public were putting up, Suna couldn't help but think that this had already ended in tragedy. It had taken so much before everybody started getting angry and demanding righteous action. Oikawa and Osamu were dead, another girl had been kidnapped and was probably dead if the confession leaked online had been any indication, and Goshiki was dead, too. Atsumu had dropped out of school, forfeiting his future prospects and now left without his other half.
It irked him, how close he had been orbiting around these dead stars, their explosion dates already predetermined. And Suna—Suna hadn't been able to get away unscathed. Osamu—his lover—dead. Aran was lucky—he'd long lost touch with the twins before Osamu's death, and it was probably for the best. If they'd been closer, Aran would've gotten hurt, too.
His fists curled at his sides.
Better late than never, he would think if he were more optimistic. But it's too late. Everything's gone to shit.
Suna hadn't been able to bring himself to throw the ring into the ocean.
Perhaps it hadn't quite sunk in yet. Due to their conflicting schedules, Osamu and Suna had been used to spending long amounts of time away from one another. But that'd been with the promise of reconciliation—a promise now broken.
Inevitably, when it hit him, it would hurt even more.
Suna wasn't looking forward to it.
The summoned witness—Chen—trudged his way up to the stand without his usual baseball cap, every bit as surly and brusque as the average street thug.
Karasuda met his fierce eyes without so much a flinch. "Will the witness declare his name and occupation?"
"Chen Jianhong." Chen smirked. "Inmate. I used to work for the old ma—Shō—a decade ago. The last job I had was guarding Oishi Ryoka."
"Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?"
"Heh. Yeah."
"I will remind you that offering false testimony will result in punishment for perjury. Additionally, you have the right to to refuse to answer any questions that may incriminate you or your relatives."
Who was this guy? Suna wondered. And why had Shō freaked out so badly when he saw him? What was their relation? Suna's eyes went round. Was this a betrayal of sorts? His gaze shifted to the back of Atsumu's bleached blond head. Atsumu hadn't seen them sitting down when he'd come in, too engrossed with everything that was happening around him. Whatever's going on, it's pretty obvious no one was expecting this guy to show up...
He was curious—what would Chen bring to the table?
"Chen-san, will you please give us a brief summary of your history with the accused?" Karasuda beseeched.
"I was young when we first met," Chen started. "Twenty, at the most. He was basically my mentor and my boss. Nothing more to it. But we grew to trust each other. I've seen the shi—stuff he did, and it's not pretty."
"It is to my understanding that you are responsible for the following video evidences submitted to the court?"
"Assuming that you're talking about what you're talking about... Yes."
Chinen clicked the remote, and the screen changed.
May 25th, 2018
"A USB drive," Chen revealed. "It's in a hidden compartment in my apartment. Underneath my work table. Just press against it three times and it'll open up."
Karasuda lifted his phone up to his ear. "I'll call my team over there right now."
"You kept blackmail?" Sakusa mused as Karasuda excused himself to made his phone call.
"Of course I did." Chen scoffed. "It's the only way to ensure that the old man doesn't cross me. He doesn't know about it, of course, but I'd make damn well sure to let him know if anything ever came up. No one throws me under the bus and gets away with it. No one."
Sakusa met his eyes. "Did he come to visit you even once?"
Chen grinned, but it was more like he was just baring his teeth. "No. He didn't."
So he sold him out for a reduced sentence.
May 31st, 2018
"The following footage was retrieved from a hard drive owned by the witness," Chinen read out. "As you will see, members of the panel, it clearly incriminates the accused. It contains some disturbing content, but the prosecution has found it necessary to show the panel. The extent of his crimes must not be censored."
She pressed play, and the audience held their breaths.
Tension lining his muscles, Sakusa grimaced, waiting for the video—one that he had watched more than once—to play.
It flickered to life.
There was a girl—no, a woman. Tied and gagged and naked and horribly emaciated in the corner of a dimly lit room with no windows.
In one of the seating rows, Kageyama Tobio grew very, very pale.
The video paused.
"This woman is Kageyama Miwa," Chinen narrated, darkly. "She went missing on the fifth of December, 2012. It was only recently that her body was found. She was officially declared deceased on the twenty-seventh of April this year. Despite being missing for six years, forensic evidence shows that the deceased was dead for only five of those years. This footage was recorded during the last year of her life, which was spent in captivity."
Sakusa eyed where Shō was seated, all the blood drained from his cheeks.
Chinen restarted the video again. It buffered for a few seconds before continuing where it had left off.
A man approached from off-screen, his side profile in direct line of the camera. It was Shō. No one could deny that. "Get up," the Shō on screen said, tiredly. He was holding a tray of food—what looked like rice and boiled meat and vegetables on a plate. There was some miso soup to go along with it. "I said get up. You have to eat, Kageyama-san."
"Don't look," Sakusa heard Hinata murmur to Kageyama. "Kageyama, you—you don't have to look."
Sakusa didn't hear a reply.
"What if you don't survive?" Shō lamented. "I... I already have too much blood on my hands. You don't understand—I see his face in my dreams every night. He's begging. He's always begging. He says he doesn't want to die. Please, Kageyama-san!" His voice rose into a harsh bellow, snatching the gag from her mouth. "You must live! You must! You must!"
Sheer disgust made Sakusa's belly curl. Shō—he really was despicable.
Miwa groaned, head lolling on one bony shoulder. "Let... me... go..."
"You know I can't do that. I can't—I'm sorry, but I can't."
"I... won't... tell anyone..."
"Yes, you will. Anyone would, and you're too kind for your own good, aren't you? Plotting with Takagi to save that brat... You're too kind. I can never let you go. But I don't want you to die either. You don't deserve that."
Suddenly, Kageyama stood up in the bench. "So why did you kill her?!" he screamed at Shō. "Why did you kill her, you heartless son of a bitch?! Why?!"
"Kageyama, sit down!" Hinata implored.
"Quiet!" thundered Chief Justice Midorima Mahiro. "One more outburst from you and you will be escorted outside."
Grinding his teeth, Kageyama obeyed, knuckles going white from how hard he clutched the sides of his chair.
Sakusa lowered his gaze before looking back up at the screen.
"Eat," begged Shō, holding up a spoonful of rice to Miwa's mouth. But she clamped it shut, refusing his offer. "He'll... He'll break you if you're not strong enough. He's a monster."
There was a loud pounding noise—someone banging their fist on the door.
On the TV, Shō jumped, glancing back over his shoulder with urgency. He pushed the tray in front of Miwa, seemingly forgetting that her hands were tied, and scurrying away. The rest of the footage, if Sakusa remembered correctly, was just Miwa struggling to eat without the use of her hands. Nothing the court needed to see—he'd seen and felt Miwa's pain and humiliation and it was too horrendously intimate.
"The footage proves that the accused was responsible for kidnapping and holding Kageyama Miwa. Further evidence," Chinen took a paper from her desk, "also proves that the accused was in possession of Kageyama Miwa's dismembered remains for the five years that followed her kidnapping. This autopsy report stated that she had been strangled to death and beaten extensively prior. Additionally, this is a receipt detailing a purchase made on February eighth, 2014 for a freezer. Alongside this purchase is another purchase for a studio apartment at Dreaming Poker Heights. The freezer was kept in the accused's personal storage area in the basement car park."
Karasuda, in control of the remote this time, pressed the forward button. An image of the freezer, including its scale and measurements, came up. "As you can see," he continued, "It's large enough to hold a dismembered human corpse. Security footage from the apartment also shows that the accused has, on multiple occasions, visited the basement and back in what can be aptly described as excessive paranoia." The aforementioned footage played, showing multiple clips of Shō hurrying back and forth between the basement and his apartment. "Though he owned it, the accused did not frequently take up residence in this apartment. However, whenever he visited, he would, without fail, also check on the freezer in the basement. Look here—he is seen opening it and examining the contents.
"Furthermore, the freezer was seized and the forensic team checked the freezer for any DNA remnants. It tested positive to Kageyama Miwa's DNA across every interior surface. Undoubtedly, Kageyama Miwa's remains were kept inside the freezer."
"The remains were recovered during a police investigation into Miya Osamu's murder," Chinen said. "In our criminal profiler's report, it is stated that the perpetrator is in his mid-forties to early-fifties as well as male. It was concluded that the perpetrator intended to pin Kageyama Miwa's death on Miya Osamu, but wasn't able to complete his plan due to a short time window." She read out a summary of the report—from the postmortem cheap rice cooker delivery to the alarm clock. "It is extremely unusual for the perpetrator to set the alarm clock to alert him instead of just using his phone. Here, I will defer to the witness, Chen-san. Chen-san, why did the perpetrator use the alarm clock instead of his phone?"
"Because he was afraid of radio frequency interference. He has an older phone," Chen told the court, blandly. "There were delicate electronics in Miya Osamu's apartment. The whole place was bugged with listening devices. I know this because I was the one who set them up."
"Can you elaborate on that? Why did you set up the listening devices in Miya Osamu's apartment?"
"Because I was ordered to by the man I was working for at that time."
"And who is that man? Can you name him?"
Chen leered over at the defense table. "Shō Shinya."
"And the rice cooker? Can you explain that as well?"
"Yeah. Miya Osamu... was being extorted. The result of his contract, unfortunately."
"You mean this contract? Clause 14." With another press of the button, the screen switched to a picture of the contract, zoomed in on the appropriate section.
"Mm. I helped draft it, so I know. Shō and I raked in all the cash and Miya was virtually living with nothing. He was dirt poor."
Triumphantly, Chinen nodded. "Nothing further."
It was time for the cross-examination. The tension in his shoulders that had eased out throughout Chinen's questioning returned with a fury, and Sakusa stiffened.
"So, how was this footage of Kageyama Miwa obtained?" Musashi asked Chen.
"Easily," snorted Chen. "I was the first person Shō consulted when he met up with the guy who eventually killed her. I knew where she was being held the whole time and I planted a bug there."
Musashi frowned. "You are aware that is a criminal offence?"
"I'm already in prison. I don't care."
"Right. So you admit to the footage being obtained... illegally?"
"Yeah."
"One might question the credibility of the evidence, then—"
"Objection!" Chinen cried. "The evidence was approved by the court and shall be treated like such."
"Sustained," droned one of the justices. "Defense, you will do well not to imply the court's lack of credibility."
Musashi bowed his head. "Of course. The court has my apologies."
"Continue."
Musashi adjusted his tie, addressing Chen once more. "Witness, please enlighten me on the criminal charges that landed you in prison."
Like some bored school kid answering his teacher's question, Chen recited, "Stalking and assault and intimidation."
Pens scribbled across pages in messy scrawls.
"Did you have any special relation to Miya Osamu?" Musashi went on.
"Hmm..." Chen stroked his chin, frowning. "He's memorable to me. Not sure what I was to him, but I remember him well. He was a miserable little kid, and an even more miserable adult. He wasn't a bad kid, though."
"Were you fond of him?"
A shrug. "As fond as I could get. I saw him around a lot."
"So why did you bug his room?"
"Well, that's..." Nervous, Chen began to fidget, foot tapping behind the stand. "It was my job."
"Surely, there must have been some moral conflict on your part."
"Look, I don't ask questions in my job. Plus, it was the old man. Shō. I did it for old time's sake."
"Only for old time's sake? Or is there something you're omitting from me, witness?"
"Because I thought Shō was like me!" Chen screeched, snapping under the pressure. "I know I'm a bastard! No one has to tell me that! But I thought he was like me, inviting all those brats on set! I didn't know he was out to find a fucking replacement son! That's why I did it! I didn't want to be alone in this world!"
"Just to clarify, you mean alone in your sexual deviancy which happens to be geared toward prepubescent teenagers?"
"Yes! Goddammit, yes!"
That idiot! Sakusa groaned internally. He's saying too much! Admitting to being a child predator had just blown his credibility out of the water.
Thankfully, he was soon dismissed. Chen trudged back to the stands, not very pleased that his time in the spotlight was now over. His probity had been affected, but Sakusa couldn't gauge to what extent. It's coming, he thought, mind racing. His fingers tapped on his thigh, Karasuda's mouth moving all too slowly.
"The prosecution calls Sakusa Kiyoomi to the stand as a witness," Karasuda stated.
"Good luck," Atsumu whispered to him. "Go kick their asses, Omi."
I will, he didn't say.
When he got settled at the stand, Karasuda asked, "Will the witness declare his name and occupation?"
"My name is Sakusa Kiyoomi." Sakusa's voice rang loud and clear in the mostly silent courtroom. "I am a public prosecutor." He stood with his hands hidden behind his back, mask strapped around his chin so that his visage was fully visible.
"Sakusa-san, please describe your relation to both murder cases."
"Last month, in April, Kindaichi Yuutarou—a law student at the University of Tokyo—came to me with previously unaccounted for evidence related to the Oikawa murder case. He and I both investigated, unofficially, into possible suspects." Sakusa paused. "As you may know, my father was Iwaizumi's lawyer back in the past. The reason I took on the investigation with Kindaichi was because of my own personal stakes. It was during this investigation that we questioned Miya Osamu in his apartment. A few days later, he was dead."
"Did you cease your investigation after his death?"
"No, though I was ordered to by the former Prosecutor-General, Hirakawa Noriko." Sakusa lowered his eyes to half-mast. "I found that some things are worth risking my career for. The investigation carried on under wraps."
"That is very admirable, Sakusa-san." The way Karasuda praised his colleague was mechanical, and Sakusa had to arch a brow at the thinly veiled resentment behind the statement. "Was it the investigation that led you to Dreaming Poker Heights on the eighth of May?"
"Yes. After I talked with Miya Atsumu, I figured out who must have killed Oikawa-san. It was the accused, and I chased him through the building before we both ran into Goshiki Tsutomu, who held us both hostage along with four others. I heard the accused with my own ears—he confessed to being the killer. Despite the rejection of his confession as court evidence, I strongly believe that he was, in fact, the murderer of Oikawa Tooru and Miya Osamu."
"How did you come to this conclusion?"
"Confession aside, the accused had the motive," Sakusa explained. "Shō exploited a young Miya Atsumu for ratings on his 2008 show, KidProdigy. When Oikawa Tooru threatened to destroy Shō's reputation by revealing the devil's editing that had been going on behind everyone's backs, Shō killed him to silence him. Shō was also exploiting money from Miya Osamu through the terms of his contract, as proven earlier. With the audio bugs he planted, he realized that Osamu-san, who was also in the know of his shady dealings, was on the verge of spilling everything to me. Again, he killed to silence. The accused is a man who has come to value his career and money more than human life. This is my professional opinion as a public prosecutor." The words were like ash on his tongue.
"Thank you, Sakusa-san. Nothing further."
It was time for the cross-examination again.
Sakusa squared his shoulders, ready for Musashi to barrage him with questions.
"Sakusa-san," Musashi said. "Miya Osamu's apartment could only be accessed using a key card assigned to him and him alone. How would my client have entered the room if Miya Osamu was sleeping inside his apartment when he died? This implies that the key card was inside the apartment during the time of the incident."
"There was more than one key card in circulation," Sakusa informed him. "The landlord's wife, Kuroo Rina, has confessed to giving the accused a second key card. If you check with the prosecution, you will find that Kuroo Rina has submitted a signed statement regarding this matter and will be testifying further along the trial."
"So only two cards were in circulation?" pressed Musashi.
Sakusa sighed inwardly. He'd known this was coming. "No. There is a third card—the original one, which Miya Osamu lost some weeks prior his death. The one he had in his possession was a spare."
"And whose possession was the original key in?"
"I don't know. It was never recovered."
"So it is entirely possible that the third card could have been used by an entirely separate party," Musashi finished.
The rest of Musashi's arguments were mostly of the same sort—he nit-picked every single detail, but Sakusa was not worried. Musashi was providing the jury doubt, yes but Sakusa would say that it was not reasonable doubt. No, anyone with half a brain would eventually realize that everything was lining up too well for it not to be true. Evidence could only be circumstantial for so long before people started to open their eyes to the reality of the situation.
Truly, Musashi's downfall would not be his skills in argument, but his client's undeniable guilt.
Ishigami was called up by the prosecution next, getting up from her chair and moving behind the witness stand. Sakusa nodded at her as he left, padding back to the gallery.
"Will the witness declare her name and occupation?" requested Karasuda.
"Ishigami Yua. I'm the Superintendent of Criminal Investigations 1 of the Miyagi Prefectural Police." Ishigami didn't hide her slasher smile, gloved hands laced together and set on the stand. She went on to tell her side of the story—how Shirabu had contacted her and had her investigate into the evidence archives of the Oikawa murder case—circling back the focus of the discussion to Oikawa as the victim.
Her cross-examination was more lenient than the others'. There was really nothing to pick—despite her unpredictable nature, she had weaponized bureaucracy to her advantage, and had filed foolproof paperwork.
One question from Musashi did make her stumble slightly, however.
"Superintendent Ishigami, why did Dr. Shirabu Kenjirou come to you for help?"
"Ah." Ishigami would not meet a seething Shirabu's eye in the crowd. "I owed him a favor."
"What for?"
"Some years back, Shirabab—Dr. Shirabu provided key evidence into dismissing a case of arson against me."
"Oh? Could you elaborate on the nature of this evidence."
Ishigami deadpanned at him, her good spirit dampened significantly. "Must I?"
"Does the evidence incriminate you or any of your relatives?"
"Well, no... But the thing is—"
"The witness will answer the defense's question," commanded the justice sitting to Mahiro's immediate left.
Ishigami's lips pressed into a line. "A pornographic tape."
Musashi froze. "I beg your pardon?"
"The evidence was a homemade pornographic tape of me and Dr. Shirabu. Both of us consented to its making. The timestamp in the video showed that I was... preoccupied when the arson took place."
A thumping sound to the right attracted Sakusa's attention. Shirabu had let his forehead fall against the banister, Obata struggling to keep a straight face throughout this section of the examination if the way her shoulders shook was any indication.
Musashi, wisely or perhaps for everyone's sake, did not pursue the matter any further. One of the lay judges was beginning to look as green as Midorima's hair.
Smith's testimony was short, sweet, and to the point. He spoke on behalf of both Shirabu and Obata, telling the court of the handwriting tests, blood tests, and DNA samples that all eventually led back to Shō.
Chinen exchanged a few words with Karasuda before calling up Kindaichi to the stand. "Will the witness please declare his name and occupation?"
"M-my name is Kindaichi Yuutarou." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat at the stumble. "I'm currently a postgraduate student studying at the University of Tokyo for my Juris Doctor in law."
"Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?"
"I do."
"I will remind you that offering false testimony will result in punishment for perjury. You also have the right to to refuse to answer any questions that may incriminate you or your relatives."
Kindaichi nodded. "I understand."
"According to Sakusa-san, you were the one who first brought him previously unaccounted for evidence about the Oikawa murder case. Is this true?"
"Yes. It's true. The evidence was the handwritten confession note from earlier. I discovered it in Oikawa-san's middle school locker."
"What was your relation to the victim?"
Kindaichi chewed on the inside of his cheek. "He was my upperclassman in middle school and high school. I... I looked up to him a lot. I never believed that Iwaizumi was the one who killed him, so I couldn't let it go."
"And where were you on the night of the murder?"
Kindaichi spoke of how he'd come across Oikawa's corpse, half-submerged in the river, on the way home. The trauma of the sight had been enough for his mind to shut down, and by the time the next morning came around, he had no recollection of the event.
"It wasn't until recently," Kindaichi said, "That I remembered."
"And what would you say about Iwaizumi-san's character?"
His response was instant. "He would never kill Oikawa. I can vouch for him. He was a kind and caring upperclassman, and Oikawa... was the most important person in the world to him. Iwaizumi told me that himself."
Chinen had one last question for him. "As someone who was involved in the investigation with Sakusa-san, who do you think was behind Oikawa-san's murder based on what you have discovered?"
"Shō Shinya."
"Thank you. Nothing further."
"Kindaichi-san, it is to my understanding that you discovered the body and nothing more, right?" Musashi asked during the cross-examination.
"That's right."
"So you did not see the actual murder taking place?"
Kindaichi frowned deeply, wracking his brain. "No, but I did see something suspicious. I remember... I remember seeing the accused coming from the crime scene! Yeah!" This was not part of what they'd gone through with the witnesses—he must have recalled this bit of information just then.
Musashi asked him a few more questions to poke holes in his testimony—most of which centred around his power of recollection. It was a stretch to deem Kindaichi's memory as reliable, and Musashi exploited this to his advantage.
"Look, I'm telling you," Kindaichi said, exasperated. "I am not misremembering things. I saw him that night."
"But you don't deny your history of memory troubles?"
"I—no." Kindaichi lowered his head. "I don't."
"Nothing further."
Tch. Sakusa scowled. It was a scummy thing to do, but a sound tactic. Hopefully, Kindaichi wouldn't take Musashi's implications to heart.
Kindaichi left the stand, replaced by Kunimi, who drawled out his name and profession after being prompted by Chinen.
"I'm Kunimi Akira. I'm a postgraduate student studying counselling psychology at the University of Tokyo."
"Kunimi-san, where were you on the night of Oikawa Tooru's death?" Chinen inquired after reading him his rights.
Perhaps a little nervously, Kunimi ran his fingers through his newly dyed hair. "I was at home," he said. "Finishing up my homework when Kindaichi showed up at my door. It would've been... around half past nine in the evening? Yeah."
"What happened after Kindaichi-san appeared at your home?"
Kunimi sighed heavily. "He had a breakdown." The testimony corroborated with Kindaichi's. "He was crying and shaking and—and things got a little violent. Nothing too serious, but he was obviously very shaken from what he'd seen before coming here."
"Did he tell you what he saw?"
"Yes. He saw... He saw Oikawa's body. In the river."
"What was your next course of action?"
Kunimi shifted, rubbing his shoulder. "I knocked him out with a lamp. Hit him on the back of the head with it. It was the only thing I thought of that could stop him from leaving the house. I didn't want him to run into the killer and get himself murdered. After that, I panicked. I called the first contact I pressed on, which happened to be Iwaizumi's."
At the prosecution stand, Iwaizumi's handcuffs clinked almost inaudibly, stirring as if he had been awoken back into the world by this admission.
Chinen turned to the justices and the lay judges. "The panel should note that Kunimi-san's phone call was submitted for approval to the court back then, but was somehow rejected due to being deemed irrelevant to the case. Kunimi-san was also neglected as a potential witness during the 2012 investigation and was never called in to testify on Iwaizumi's behalf."
The judges ducked their heads, writing on their notepads.
"This certainly brings up questions about the integrity of the investigation," concluded Chinen. "The investigation which found Iwaizumi-san guilty in 2012. Nothing further."
"Kunimi-san," Musashi addressed, picking up where Chinen had left off promptly. "Why did you not volunteer yourself as a witness during the 2012 investigation?"
"I was scared," Kunimi said, as if it were an obvious thing. And it was, but Musashi would find some way to punish him for it anyway. "All I wanted was to move on from the tragedy. I... I didn't want Kindaichi to remember, either, since he had repressed his memories of the event. I thought that it would be better to live the rest of our lives in blissful ignorance, but I regret ever thinking like that. It was wrong."
"Forgive my bluntness, but you are saying that it was your own cowardice that prevented you from coming forward?"
"... That is correct."
Addressing the judging panel, Musashi said, "The integrity of the investigating team shouldn't not be entirely judged based on the members' actions. The lack of action from key witnesses should also be taken into consideration. Nothing further."
Kunimi narrowed his eyes but held his tongue.
When the time came for Atsumu to step up to the witness stand, Sakusa's stomach became a knot. The blond introduced himself to the court, looking more serious than Sakusa was used to seeing him.
"I was a contestant on KidProdigy in 2008. He used me," Atsumu proclaimed at Chinen's prompting, using what could be considered his classroom voice. "To up his ratings. I had ta go along with it."
"And why did you have to go along with it?"
"My dad was abusive," Atsumu said, bluntly. "Ma... She wanted the fame. And 'Samu... Osamu..." Here, he released a breath. "He hated our dad. He needed an out. So I let it happen. For their sake."
Atsumu told the court his story. Somehow, for Sakusa, it was even more difficult to hear it the second time than the first. In the hospital, it had been little more than an impromptu interrogation. Sakusa had chased the final piece of the puzzle, but now that the bigger picture had been completed... Things were more personal now.
By the time he had finished, he looked drained of all energy. Atsumu had his arms folded across his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. After this, Sakusa decided, they definitely needed to go unwind.
Musashi didn't make things any easier for him, either, pulling apart every detail like he tended to do.
"The call cut off before you could hear anything?"
"Well, yeah—"
"Then you have virtually no way of identifying who was at the site with Oikawa-san?"
Atsumu glowered at the lawyer. "No. I don't. But ain't it obvious? He has the motive. Oikawa was meeting up with him that night, and our text messages prove it!"
"There are several windows of time where Oikawa-san could have encountered the perpetrator. There is no certainty that it was my client. Nothing further."
Bullshit, but also irrefutable fact. No one had been physically present to witness the murder happen. Thus, there was always going to be room for doubt. But, nevertheless, Atsumu's testimony would be valuable in the eyes of the justices.
The trial was coming to a head. The prosecution exchanged more words, Chinen and Karasuda swapping papers while Iwaizumi sat in pensive silence. They came to a decision, and Chinen raised her voice. "The prosecution calls witness Hirakawa Noriko back to the stand for further questioning."
Elegantly postured, Noriko sashayed behind the stand, Atsumu skirting around the other side to return to his spot next to Sakusa.
"Hirakawa-san, please describe the relationship between you and your father," Chinen probed gently.
Noriko took a deep breath. "I hold... Nothing but hatred for him. I despise my father. Ever since I was a child, he would...!" She gritted her teeth. "He beat my mother and raped her. And he did the same to me." Dam broken, the words were coming out in a rush—she was afraid that, if she spoke slower, she would lose her resolve. "My 'father' is a rapist and a murderer!"
"Did you ever try to run away?"
"No. I was too scared."
"Of course your own safety?"
"Yes. But also my mother's and sister's." Her bangs curtained her face. Noriko pushed them out of the way. "One night, when I was seventeen, he murdered by mother. He was beating her, like he usually did, but he went too far. She died. It was just my sister and I, then. I couldn't let her die, too, so I obeyed my father's every word."
"So disobeying your father meant that your sister would perish?"
"There was the risk of that. And it wasn't a risk I was willing to take. He explicitly threatened me with her many times. I took them all seriously."
"And where was your sister throughout all of this?"
This was it—the reveal that would start strangling Daizen for good.
"Locked in the basement under our house," Noriko told. "I have no idea what he did to her down there. But I have... seen how she is now. She's beyond recovery. A police search should find traces of her existence there."
"Thank you, Hirakawa-san. Nothing further."
When she walked back to her place, she no longer exhuded her elegance. She wouldn't even meet her father's eye, legs trembling as she passed the defense counsel's bench and gaze fixed on the floor.
Sakusa sneaked a glance at Daizen. His lips were bloodless, hands palming the table and twitching. He's losing it.
"The prosecution calls Kuroo Rina to the stand," Karasuda's call broke into Sakusa's thoughts.
Musashi's features remained flat when his daughter testified, either ignoring the way Daizen was glaring daggers at her or completely unaware. Kuroo Rina walked with swinging hips and radiated a confidence that no other witness had so far. She was probably the one with the least amount of stakes in this whole debacle, even if she was directly connected to Daizen.
"Will the witness declare her name and occupation?" asked Karasuda, hands clasped behind his back.
"Kuroo Rina," Rina introduced herself, coolly. "I'm a freelancing actress."
The rights and reminders were announced, and Karasuda wasted no time in proceeding with the questioning. "But you have been working under Hirakawa Daizen for the past ten years, have you not?"
"Mmhm. Ever since I was twenty-one. But that doesn't mean I'm not a freelancer. I just happened to be under a long-term contract."
Karasuda's brow crumpled. "In your profile, it states that you are signed with an agency under HNN Foundation."
"Yes, but I'm a freelancer at heart." Rina winked. "By everything except technicality."
"Very well." Karauda seemed like he wanted to scream at her but swallowed it down for the sake of his own integrity. It would do to have an aneurysm in court. "What is your role as described in the contract?"
"It was a simple role. I played Hirakawa Shion, daughter of Hirakawa Daizen."
"No," Daizen burst out, "No, stop the examination. This is a breach of her contract. I won't stand for this!"
"Quiet," Mahiro spoke, cuttingly. "The binding legitimacy of the contract between you and the witness is overruled in criminal trial."
He got to his feet. "You can't be serious, Mahiro—!"
"Sit down, Hirakawa Daizen, or the court will hold you in contempt."
Snarling, Hirakawa dropped his whole weight back into his chair—it squeaked against the flooring.
The questioning portion resumed. "Witness, what kind of things did the role require you to do?"
"Oh, pretty simple stuff," Rina said, blasé as ever. "I just had to show up to important events and walk around Head Office occasionally. My boss didn't want me showing my face too much, in case somebody actually recognized me behind all the bling, but I let the press see me now and again. Y'know, to make sure I was still kicking."
How morbid.
They had found Hirakawa Shion in a state of utter mental deterioration.
The doctors said that she would live the rest of her life as little more than a vegetable.
"So, in conclusion," Karasuda said at the end of the examination. "You, for the last ten years, have played the role of Hirakawa Shion."
"Yep."
Throughout it all, Shō observed Rina as if he had seen a ghost. Then, strangely, the color returned to his cheeks, and there was something like resignation that shrouded his hunched form. Sakusa drew up to his full height in his chair, in anticipation of what Shō would do next. Come on, he implored silently. Do it, you cowardly bastard. You should know by now... What kind of power this has given you. Do it!
"Next, the accused will be questioned." Mahiro peered down at Shō. "Step up to the stand."
Shō obeyed, keeping his head down.
To the defense counsel, Mahiro added, "You may proceed."
"Thank you, your honor. Shō-san—"
"Wait," Shō interrupted. "There is something I need to say."
"What is it?"
Sakusa inched forward. Say it. Say it, say it, say it—
"I... plead guilty."
"What?!" Not even Musashi could hide his shock. "Shō-san, please—"
"No. It's true. I killed them. I killed Osamu and Oikawa. I took Kageyama Miwa away. I let Hirakawa Daizen kill her. I ran that kid over, too. I remember now. I... did all of it."
The great weight that had been pressing harshly into Sakusa's chest lifted. And there it is. For a moment, he had thought that Shō would stick to his guns until the end.
"You lie!" Daizen clamored. "It's all lies! How dare you, after I—!" One glare from Mahiro had him biting his tongue. But his entire body still trembled with rage—Sakusa could see, and the audience, too, were not blind to it.
Hirakawa Daizen was starting to show his true self.
"I'm sorry, Noriko," Shō continued, pressing on despite Daizen's vengeful outburst. "Nothing can save me now. But I can still save you. From him. Hirakawa Daizen came to me after I killed Oikawa and took Kageyama. He knew. He knew what I'd done and he said he would make it go away and forgive Noriko if I let him have Kageyama. So I did. He's a bloodthirsty psychopath. But I had to. I had to save my daughter. I had to save Noriko!"
Mahiro held up a hand. "The court accepts your confession."
Hirakawa Noriko. Always needing to be saved. Sakusa couldn't even hold it against her anymore. It had grown too tiresome for him to do so. No matter how powerful or how clever she became, Hirakawa Noriko would always need to be saved. His eye caught Midorima's. The green-haired man looked away.
"There is one final piece of evidence we would like to show the court," Chinen announced as the astonishment died down. "The prosecution deems it relevant in light of the accused's confession. What you are about to see is the video diary of Goshiki Tsutomu—the man who committed suicide after holding several people at gunpoint this year. It is important for everyone to understand that this man was undeniably affected by the actions of the accused, specifically those related to his negligent driving and hit and run charges. Please treat it as a victim impact statement."
The video played.
There was a once a boy who had been loved.
But the monster inside him had grown large, fed and fattened on isolation and rejection.
It was agonizing to watch—a little under ten minutes of content, it felt like an age before the video diary compilation finally ended.
"That is all." Chinen swallowed. "Nothing further."
Musashi did not debate the evidence.
"The examination of the evidence is complete," Mahiro said. "Public prosecutor, please present your closing arguments."
Karasuda read out the prosecution's closing arguments, Chinen beginning to pack some of their papers away. At the end, Karasuda stated, "To reiterate, the prosecution considers the death penalty for the double-homicide, three years of imprisonment for solicitation, eight years of imprisonment for negligent driving leading to injury, and a fine of five million yen for the hit and run as appropriate punishment for the accused."
Not long after, Musashi delivered the defense's closing arguments, and then the floor was Mahiro's again.
"Before we conclude these trial proceedings, do you have anything you would like to say to the court?" he asked Shō.
Shō shook his head. "Only that I am guilty. I can't do anything except apologize to you all. To everyone... Who I've ever hurt."
Sakusa's jaw clenched. How predictable, he had been in the end. But it was too late to show humanity now, when he refused to impart the same humanity when they'd still been alive. Nobody would ever forgive him for what he had done.
As soon as the judges removed themselves from the courtroom to consult one another, accompanied by the creak of chairs, the room descended into noisy whispers.
"A confession." Atsumu was dumbstruck. "He confessed? But why? Why go through all the trouble to defend himself?" He huffed at Sakusa. "And why aren't ya more surprised, Omi-Omi?"
"Because," Sakusa said easily, breezing past the nickname. "Everything went according to plan."
"What? Oh, hell, ya do realize ya sound like some cheap anime villain, right—?"
A few rows back, Yagami Light sneezed.
Sakusa eyeballed Atsumu. "It's true."
"You knew he was going to confess in court?" Kindaichi ogled him. "How?"
Quite grimly, Sakusa replied, "He's a deluded son of a bitch who's grappling with his broken moral compass. He killed his own 'son' in a fit of greed and fear and realized how much of a scumbag he is. I bet that he's been trying to find some sort of atonement all this time. His last resort? To be a martyr."
"Okay, but why now?" Kunimi chimed in. "Why not earlier?"
"Hirakawa Noriko," Sakusa simply said, as if it explained everything. When they just continued to look at him, he elaborated, "She's the only person he has left. If it means protecting her and making her happy, he would probably be willing to die at this point. As soon as Kuroo Rina came out, Shō realized he had the power to be the final nail in the coffin for Daizen." Daizen, who was pale as a sheet over by the defense table. Good. He deserves to rot in hell for everything he's done.
The judges returned, and everyone fell into a hushed silence.
Mahiro held their attention, eyes steely behind the frames of his glasses.
It was time for judgement to handed out.
Sakusa inhaled.
He could hear his heart pounding between his ears.
"The court hereby renders its judgment," declared the Chief Justice. "The accused, Shō Shinya, is sentenced to the death penalty for two counts of homicide, one count of solicitation, one count of kidnapping, one count of hiding a corpse, one count of negligent driving causing injury, and one count of hit and run. Additionally, Hirakawa Daizen will be taken into custody immediately, and an official investigation will be launched. Court costs shall be borne by the accused. The highest order of compensation will also be provided to Iwaizumi Hajime by the government."
And Sakusa knew it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn he heard the gavel of justice slamming down on the surface.
"No!" Daizen howled, jumping up in one swift motion with his teeth bared. His composure had been slowly unraveling during the trial, but it was nevertheless polarizing to see the usually calm man fly into a frenzy. "You filthy traitor! I made you! I built you up into the man you are today! You would be nothing without me! Nothing!"
All nine judges were already standing and preparing to leave through the back entrance. Sakusa didn't expect for Mahiro to dignify Daizen's wild accusations with a response, but he did.
"No," refuted Mahiro, calmly. "You are mistaken. I have always been my own man."
His robes fluttered as he whipped around, not even deigning a glance back at Daizen.
Holy shit. Is this really happening?
Kindaichi didn't even blink as Mahiro declared Shō guilty, officers also moving in to arrest Daizen, who was still roaring at Mahiro's supposed betrayal. They exited the courtroom, and everyone else made to get up and start dispersing, too.
"Come on," Kunimi urged, probably eager to see Iwaizumi up close.
Being seated at the frontrow, they shuffled after the people, having to slow to a stop as everyone meandered through the double doors. They spent a while being tossed around in the sea of people before, finally, they managed to move to the side in the lobby.
It was just in time for Daizen and Shō to circle around with their police guards as well. Kindaichi watched them go past with eyes narrowed hatefully. Iwaizumi was somewhere behind them but Kindaichi couldn't quite see him yet.
"Get away from me!"
All of a sudden, Daizen lashed out with a mighty shout, bashing the crown of his head against the chin of a guarding officer and wrenching away from them. Hands still cuffed behind his back, Daizen dashed forth.
"He's getting away!" yelled Kindaichi, dashing around the group of gathered people and after him. But the two armed guards, now recovered, were faster, and they soon outpaced him.
The only person in Daizen's path was a woman wearing a black jacket over her red-collared shirt, purse slung over her shoulder. Daizen would bowl her over and make for the doors—Kindaichi could see it happening already.
They reached out for him, but not before—
Kindaichi stopped running. Wait, isn't she...?
Daizen shrieked and toppled when the woman stuck out her foot, sending him to the ground with a painful thud. The guards—the public nipping at their heels—caught up to them as Makoshima Naoko stepped on the back of Daizen's head; she crushed the flat of his nose against the tiled floor with a thunderous expression marring her delicate features. "Where do you think you're going, you miserable rat?" she spat, high heel digging into the back of his neck.
The man squealed, wriggling on the floor like a wounded animal.
Naoko peered over her shoulder, seemingly unimpressed at the police officers rushing to get Daizen back into custody. Then she saw Kindaichi—Sakusa, Kunimi and Atsumu trailing close behind him. Numerous observers had gathered as well, some of them with their phones out despite the 'no electronics turned on' sign in the hall. "Sorry I'm late to the party." The apology bordered somewhere between forced and flippant. "I couldn't get away from work."
Sakusa sagged, looking as if the past three minutes had sucked the life out of him. "No need. You arrived... fashionably."
She removed her foot off of Daizen's head. The police guards lifted him off the ground and walked him away. "I take it that things are over already?" She sighed, dusting her hands. "Figures."
Shocked by what had just ensued and hungry for drama, the media folk rushed toward her, hounding her for questions. Taken aback by their sudden advancements, Naoko glared.
"Ma'am, excuse me, ma'am—"
"Over here!"
"Who are you?!"
"How did it feel, taking down Hirakawa Daizen like that?"
"How were you even able to do that?"
"No comment!" barked Naoko, but they kept pressing forward.
Kindaichi felt bad for her, but something else had caught his attention.
A guard twisted his key into Iwaizumi's handcuffs.
He gasped as he saw the handcuffs come off, but his view was obscured by a surge of reporters that had barreled through the front entrance—those who had not made it into the courtroom.
"Kindaichi-san!"
"It's the hero of Japan!"
"Oi," Kunimi snapped when one guy got too close. "Back off and go pick somebody else's flesh, you camera-flashing creeps! And quit it with that stupid nickname!"
The crowd jostled them around, but all Kindaichi could think of was Iwaizumi's freedom and how Sakusa would be mortified at the excessive bodily contact. "No comment," Kindaichi kept repeating under his breath as he pushed past everyone with Kunimi close behind. "No comment, no comment... Sorry, no comment."
They broke through the crowd.
The handcuffs came off.
Iwaizumi stared at his empty wrists, reeling from the knowledge that they would probably be bare for the rest of his life. He looked up at one of the guards, but he couldn't meet his eye. It was as if the officer was ashamed. Absently, Iwaizumi rubbed his wrists, the phantom feeling of cuffs still lingering.
The noise around him was nothing more than a buzz in his ears as Iwaizumi stepped away from the crowd, head ducked so he wouldn't attract the attention of the reporters. Luckily, they all seemed to be focused currently on Naoko of all people.
Naoko.
God.
Iwaizumi swallowed, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He wanted so terribly to just run up to her and hug her tightly. Naoko—the only person who had ever visited him over the years after his parents had been blacklisted. Naoko was here and she was being harassed by reporters and that sour pout on her face as she resisted the urge to cuss at all of them was hilarious.
He'd catch up with her later.
For now, he just drifted, almost aimless in his wandering.
"Iwa... Iwaizumi?"
He turned at the sound of his name, eyes going wide. "Kindaichi! Kunimi!" he blurted. Dear lord, they were so tall. It shouldn't have affected him so badly but it made it all the more easier for the tears to spring up.
Kindaichi's mouth opened and closed, at a total loss for words.
And Kunimi—Kunimi didn't even try.
Without wasting a moment, Kunimi lunged at Iwaizumi, the latter barely able to open his arms up in time to accept his hug. Somehow, although Kunimi had practically thrown his whole body weight at him, Iwaizumi managed to hold his ground. He laughed—joy ringing in the sound—and squeezed Kunimi. His hair was blue now. Blue. And such an ostentatious shade of the color, too. Kunimi had never been one for showing off back in high school, but it was not an unpleasant surprise to see that he had changed.
While Kunimi was much taller than Iwaizumi now, he felt like a child in his arms.
"Don't ever do that again," Kunimi growled, voice thick, as if it had been Iwaizumi's own fault that he had gotten thrown into prison for the past six years. He relaxed in his grip as he said the words, and Iwaizumi couldn't reply, words stuck in his throat. "Dammit. Goddammit."
Kindaichi approached them with ginger steps, reaching out a hand. Then he hesitated, unsure of where to put it.
But Kunimi and Iwaizumi parted eventually, and Kindaichi appraised him.
"You know," Iwaizumi found his voice, "You don't have to say anything." Biting his lip, he threw out his arms. "Fucking hell—c'mere, Kindaichi."
Iwaizumi could see the moment Kindaichi's restraint broke. With as much fervor as Kunimi, Kindaichi embraced him, pressing his palms against his shoulder blades experimentally as if he were testing whether or not Iwaizumi would remain solid.
"Finally," Kindaichi said, voice muffled. Iwaizumi could feel a wet spot growing on fabric above his shoulder. "Finally."
Sighing, Iwaizumi placed one hand on the back of Kindaichi's head. "I missed you guys." All of you guys. In passing, he wondered how the rest of his teammates were faring. Were they like Kindaichi and Kunimi, or had they forgotten about him?
Watari emerged from the crowd with a young teen by his side. Takeru. God, is that really him? He was... He'd grown up. Of course he had—Takeru wasn't going to stay young forever, but—
But nothing.
I've been gone from this world for so long.
Iwaizumi sniffled, the burn behind his eyes stronger than ever.
"Soon," mouthed Watari, Takeru not saying anything. "Soon."
Iwaizumi understood. They weren't ready yet. But they would be, eventually.
Watari and Takeru disappeared back into the crowd, dodging journalists still entranced with poor Naoko. To her relief, some of them had gone after Daizen and Shō as well, demanding interviews from the convicted men.
Kindaichi's arms fell around him, and the two men stood back.
"I'm so glad," Kindaichi told him, struggling for the right things to express himself. "I... I don't even know what to do, I'm just so fucking glad you wouldn't even believe it."
Kunimi wiped a tear away with one finger, sniffing. "You're so shit with words, Kindaichi." But there was no malice in his tone—never was when it came to Kindaichi. They were like brothers in a sense.
Brothers...
Before that train of thought could even begin to move, frantic footfall reached his ears. Blinking, Iwaizumi wheeled around, feeling his heart stutter in his chest. No... No way. Could it really be...?
Satoshi was holding a gigantic Godzilla plush toy in a choke-hold. His hair flopped over his eyes the same way it had when he'd been twelve and moody and addicted to video games. Oh, how Iwaizumi had told him off—had nagged him to pause his silly first-person shooters and ignored all of his protests of his games unable to be halted and made him do his homework so he could hand it in on time—
Satoshi was staring at him, mouth parted slightly.
Iwaizumi marched forward, not noticing Kindaichi and Kunimi's questioning looks. He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of the man who just had to be his brother. He was tall. Taller than him. Too tall.
The first thing Iwaizumi said to him, blunt as a hammer, was: "How tall are you?"
"Six foot," Satoshi answered without hesitation. With a cheeky tilt of the head, he added, "Two. Six foot two."
"You fucking bastard," Iwaizumi whispered, voice cracking on the last syllable. Without warning, he pulled Satoshi into a hug, the Godzilla toy squishing between them. Vaguely, he was aware of Satoshi beginning to quietly sob.
"Six years!" cried Satoshi, face screwing up. "Six fucking years, Hajime!"
"I know," Iwaizumi said, shoving his mien into Godzilla's plush arm and staining it with tears. It smelled new. Had Satoshi bought it just for him? Of course he had. Of course. Violently, Iwaizumi's shoulders wracked. He'd missed out on six years of Satoshi's life. Had never gotten to see him grow up into the man he was today, had never gotten to see him navigate the rough waters of adolescence. Nothing in the world would ever give him those lost years back, and it left a deep, bitter ache in his heart.
I'll never let you go again, Satoshi. We'll stick together from now on.
"... Hajime?"
He almost didn't hear her at first.
Iwaizumi's gaze slid to the left, at where Naoko was standing, straight-backed and composed as always. Somehow, she had escaped the media vultures. Or perhaps they'd just run out of questions. There were so many things he wished to say to her, but nothing came to fruition right now. He continued to cling to his younger brother, hoping Naoko could see his grin and that it wasn't half-hidden by Godzilla's arm.
Then—
Naoko crumbled. She sucked in a harsh breath, holding her hands to her mouth in a fruitless attempt to hide her emotions. But, in the end, it was in vain. Iwaizumi had never seen her cry before. Somewhere along the lines of their friendship, Naoko had become his pillar of strength, untouchable and and infallible. The sight of her—her seemingly endless strength sapped away in this precious moment—made his gut clench.
"Thank god," Naoko wept, softly. "Thank god."
They were bawling—all of them, unashamedly.
He loved them so much.
All of them.
So Iwaizumi cried—cried with them, alongside them.
Kindaichi's eyes were swollen.
They walked together, in a group.
Him, Kunimi, Naoko, and Iwaizumi and his brother.
Kindaichi hung his head, feet starting to drag. Man. It's all over.
The distance between him and Naoko, Kunimi, Satoshi, and Iwaizumi grew further but he made no effort to catch up to them. Instead, he craned his neck, watching the storm clouds roll in over the city. It would be raining sometime soon, he reckoned.
I can't believe it's really over.
The whole past month and a half had been Kindaichi's own personal hell, he felt. It was hard to reconcile with the fact that this rollercoaster of a ride was finally finished. They'd won. But seeing Iwaizumi banter with Satoshi, tears still shining in his eyes...
I wish I could've done more for them.
Abruptly, Kindaichi lurched forward with a surprised grunt—Sakusa had thumped him on the back with one strong hand. "What the...? Sakusa...?"
"You did well." He said it like it was a cold, hard fact. Sakusa's mask was pulled down in a rare display of familiarity. He smiled—not the kind of condescending half-smiles and smirks that Kindaichi was used to associating with him. It was kinder than any incarnation of a smile he had ever seen on his face—pale, gentle sunshine. "Kindaichi. Thank you."
At first, Kindaichi just stared at him. Where had he even come from? He dismissed the thought quickly.
Then he laughed. He threw back his head and laughed, tears welling up in his eyes all too quickly once more and rolling down his cheeks. "You...!" Kindaichi couldn't even find the words for this moment. All he knew was that it made him feel strong.
Get up, Sakusa had said without even verbalizing it. Get up and keep going because you're strong. Stronger than anyone gives you credit for.
Sakusa seemed to understand his reaction, standing with his hands in the pockets of his overcoat as he waited for Kindaichi to let it all out.
At last, the tears ceased, and Kindaichi was grinning so hard he felt as if his mouth would split open at any time.
He wanted to holler at the sky, wanted to whoop and cry ecstatically and punch into the air.
So he did.
Kunimi glanced backward, eyebrows lifting in wondrous amusement.
But Kindaichi didn't care.
He was standing on top of the world.
A/N: One more chapter left (with Miya family stuff and Sakusa, Terano getting sold out and doxxed, an official apology from the NPA done by Light Yagami, and some good times together) before the epilogue(s)! The story is almost done! It's almost been a year since I first started this story, and... Wow. It's almost over. Time sure flies, huh?
I've really enjoyed writing this, even though I'm kinda super burnt out at this point. This story has flung me back and forth from "i am THE SHIT B)" to "i am a shit writer :(" and I feel like my metaphorical spine has just snapped into two. I know I shouldn't use fanfiction as a measure of success (or lack of thereof, depending on perspective), but I can't help it. I'm balls deep in this craft and I love it too much.
This trial has been an absolute pleasure as well as a total pain to write and this isn't even including trying to balance realism with dramatization. A part of me is disappointed in how it turned out, but it was so much of a slog that I can't even bring myself to care that much right now. Nevertheless, I hope you've enjoyed the journey.
The story will be continued in the sequel, which should be much shorter than this story and only serves to tie things up nicely.
