Finally, time to start the actual story!
Chapter 4
Naomasa Tsukauchi pushed a button and stared absently at the dispenser, listening to the mechanical whir of the coffee machine as it slowly filled his paper cup with the dark liquid. When it was full, he took it and glanced at his watch as the minute hand fell squarely on the 12, dictating the end of his lunch break.
He strolled back to his office, one hand jammed deep in his pocket and the other tilting the tall cup forward in a long sip. He sighed contentedly; damn good coffee, that. He nudged the door to his office open, and sighed again for altogether different reasons.
Greeting him atop the desk lay yet another stack of paper cluttering his usually immaculate workspace, and the sight of it tugged his usually smiling mouth into a dull frown. He had only just made it through the last batch of paperwork, and yet new ones always seemed to appear in their stead like magic. He raked a hand through his cropped black hair, resisting the urge to berate his secretary, Miko, for sneaking the files in during his break.
She was such a shy girl, and always felt terribly guilty giving him so much to handle. She would probably run the whole station herself if it meant sparing other people late work hours, he thought to himself with a chuckle.
Downing half his cup in a single gulp, Naomasa pulled up his chair and began sifting through the stack.
Date, Case, Crime. He methodically lay the files in different stacks in front of him. Drawers in his desk clicked open and closed as he systematically filed many of them away for later inspection leaving only a few envelopes and papers, either in order of priority, or simply how much red marker was scribbled across the front.
Pulling a pair of reading glasses from his breast pocket and glanced over a few sheets stapled together with "ID#09" stamped on the front in red print. It stood for "Investigatory Division #09", designations of his branch and office number respectively. Below it, messy handwriting and cutouts of maps formed a collage of locations and photographs.
Naomasa sipped his coffee slowly as he studied the writing and locations. It looked to be the latest development in a series of aggravated assault charges, a case of his that had started some two months prior. The file denoted possible future targets, potential suspects, the like. As he pored over the information, the words began to jumble in his mind and it became harder to focus.
Scooting out of his chair, Naomasa opened the window behind his desk and took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Putting it between his lips, he fumbled with a lighter for a moment before relaxing, the familiar smell of burning tobacco filling his nostrils. As if on queue, his whole body seemed to relax a little, his mind clearing as he leaned out the window, puffing smoke. A bad habit of his, but his mind was at it's best when he had a cigarette between his teeth.
Growing lost in his thoughts of work, he jerked around when a knock on his office door pulled him back to reality. Turning, he saw none other than his secretary peeking around the door just as she knocked again. Noticing her embarrassment, Naomasa quickly smiled, dropping the cigarette and crushing it underfoot. "Why, Miko, how can I help you?"
Her face went a little red, and the dark-haired lady stammered a moment before stringing words together. "She's here to s-see you, Sir. She's asking if you're available, what should I tell her?"
Naomasa froze for a moment, running weekdays through his mind. It was Thursday today, wasn't it? He smiled, a little sadly. She never missed a day, that poor woman. He couldn't very well turn her away now.
"Of course, Miko, show her in." He smiled. "And thank you." The young woman gave him a nervous smile back before disappearing. A moment later, he was met by the familiar sight of a small, mousy woman shuffling into his office, glancing around his office warily as though it was her first time there. Pulling up his chair, he motioned for her to sit. Her emerald hair was up in a tight bun, dark bags only making her eyes seem larger.
She looked more tired than the last time he'd seen her.
Naomasa stepped back to lean against the windowsill, silhouetting against the orange light that filtered through behind him. He spoke softly. "Hello, Mrs. Midoriya, I hope you've been well."
She didn't seem to hear him, and her voice trembled a little when she spoke. "Has there been any news? Anything?" Her hands clutched at a small bag, and Tsukauchi felt something tighten in his chest. She seemed so.. exhausted.
He tried to brighten his tone. "Well, there was actually a sighting a few cities over." He lied.
He hated it, but he couldn't just tell her.. nothing. "We have the local police departments on high alert anywhere someone matching the description you gave us is sighted." The little woman gave a small gasp, her face lighting up hopefully.
It twisted a knife in Naomasa's gut.
Even after all this time, he had never had the heart to tell her that in a society where criminals wreaked havoc with powerful quirks, a single missing person report was practically nothing, not in the eyes of the law. Looking at her, he wondered if maybe she knew already, and all this was just an elaborate game of pretend they played to deny the truth. He wondered what could possibly drive her to return to his office each week, clinging to some hope that her boy was alive.
There was something in the desperation of it that he couldn't touch.
Didn't dare to.
"But, I must warn you again," he said, moving to sit on the edge of the desk, "Missing person reports usually take second priority to.."
Everything. Nobody gives a shit nowadays.
"..More pressing cases." Tears welled in the small woman's eyes, but she wiped them with her sleeve and nodded with a shaky smile. "I understand. I can't possibly express how thankful I am for everything you've done so far to find my boy." Her voice quivered slightly as she finished.
I wish I could do more. So, so much more.
He tried to smile. "I promise you'll be the first to hear about any new developments, Mrs. Midoriya. And, if I may be so unprofessional for a moment," he reached across the desk and gave her fragile hand a tight squeeze that he hoped was reassuring. "I know you're worried sick, but.. if your son is alive, I'll find him."
Naomasa straightened. "I can't promise anything,"
Your son is probably dead, and I'm just giving you false hope.
"but if I could, I would promise you as much." He finished quietly.
He had barely finished when the phone on his desk rang loudly. He mouthed an apology to the older woman as he picked up. "Hello?.. Oh, Chief, Sir!.. Now?.. No, no problem, Sir… On my way."
He set the phone down with a click and turned back to the green-haired woman. "Apologies Mrs. Midoriya, that's all the time I have for now." He walked over to the door and held it open for her. "Have my secretary see you out, if you don't mind."
He gave a small wave as they parted in the hall. "Safe trip home, ma'am." he smiled.
.
.
.
The click of his shoes and the rustle of his slacks echoed through the neon-lit halls as Tsukauchi drew a beeline to the Police Chief's office. When he arrived, he raised his hand to knock just as the door opened from the inside and he stepped in.
Chief of Police Kenji Tsurugae may have been an eccentric man, but he remained an exceedingly competent one. Medals, awards, and certificates all filled the walls of his office, along with a cabinet displaying an impressive assortment of vintage automatic rifles. Standing at the window with his back to the door was the Chief himself, and Naomasa gave a dry chuckle.
Whatever God there might be certainly had a sense of humor, giving Kenji the body he did.
Sleek, black and white fur covered his hound-like head, beady black eyes fixing on Naomasa as his superior turned. Large ears hung on either side of his head, twitching and perking up momentarily as Tsukauchi raised a hand in greeting. "Afternoon, Chief."
He sat in the chair opposite the Police Chief's, tugging the collar of his white blouse loose before crossing his arms and leaning them down on the desk.
The chief walked over. "Afternoon, Tsukauchi. Sorry for the short notice."
He grabbed a file off a shelf, tossing it down in front of the detective with a thud. "Have a look at this. Just in, one of the suspects we had for the big case." The "big case", as the series of unresolved crimes had come to be called.
Naomasa glanced down at the file; the first page was a mugshot. Wide-nosed man, with a scar on his left cheek. Glaring, angry eyes. "Yeah, I know him. I'm the one who put him up here on the list in the first place." He frowned.
The hound-man leaned forward, jowls spreading into a jagged, canine grin. "He's dead."
"Dead?"
The older officer chuckled as he stroked his chin. "Killed in a shoot-out this morning, downtown. Some sort of turf war. Thing is, that's our prime suspect off the table.." The chief scratched his own silky ear.
"So, either these crimes stop happening, or it was never him to begin with." Naomasa folded his hands in front of him. "If experience has taught me anything, it's to expect the worst."
"Aye, well, we'll see how things play out." The hound-man leaned back in his chair. "The real reason I called you here was to tell you that the latest victims are due to be dehospitalized first thing next week. The ones from the case two weeks ago."
"I remember."
"Yes, well, you'd best go get a one-on-one with them. See what they remember."
Naomasa nodded. "Well, if the others are anything to judge by, I doubt it'll be much. Whoever did this must have some kind of invisibility quirk, or something. That's all I can make of it." He sighed, and the chief shrugged. "Well, let's hope for the best. All these seemingly related cases, maybe they were just unfortunate coincidences."
The words had scarcely left the chief's mouth when frantic knocking began at the door.
"Come in!" he barked.
Into the room burst a young officer, uniform messy and drawing heaving breaths. "Chief, sir! A call just came in from the periphery! There's been another one!"
Naomasa whirled around, almost knocking his chair over. "What?"
Behind him came the grim, dry voice of the Police Chief. "Well now, that's your cue, Tsukauchi."