Kohaku
Propping her cheek with her fist, Taisho smirked.
"I've never seen a more depressed bunch. What, are you worried I'll lower your salary after that catastrophic failure?" Chuckling, the superintendent rubbed her forehead, hiding her tired eyes.
"Well, can't say I'm not considering the possibility. I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed." She lifted her eyes up, and they had an excited, menacing glimmer.
"However," her lips rose upwards, revealing the white canines. "I can't even imagine the faces of those pompous tops. I bet they're ballooning right now."
"Taisho-san," Sango quietly said. Everyone else was silent, all avoiding eye contact except Miroku: he was looking straight at Sango. Taisho's grin became threatening as she tilted her head and examined the young woman from slightly narrowed eyes.
"Don't get too defensive, Sango." Her nails pressed into the cap of the pen she was holding. "The higher-ups won't sugarcoat as much as I am now."
Sango answered with a cold, defiant stare. Taisho's eyes became irritated, but before she could say anything, Inuyasha interrupted.
"Screw the higher-ups," he snarked. Kagome gave him a quick glance, but didn't say anything. Taisho wordlessly lifted her eyebrows, forgiving his free-form language and allowing him to continue. Inuyasha took a deep breath, calming down.
"It's their fault, right? Kohaku didn't do anything wrong. He shouldn't have to face the consequences."
The interest that was about to appear on Taisho's face disappeared, and she rubbed her forehead.
"Inuyasha, it's almost always their fault. That doesn't change the fact that we're cleaning it up."
Still rubbing her forehead, the woman absently scrutinized the desk, and several wrinkles, related to age and workload, appeared at the corners of her eyes.
"Moreover, Kohaku will face all the consequences for this slip up."
"Meaning?" Miroku softly asked. Taisho looked up at him and tiredly smiled.
"Meaning?" She repeated. "I assume you want to get this out in words since you of all people should understand what will happen. Naturally, the Security Bureau will extract the shard from the boy."
"I will never allow that to happen."
For a moment, the superintendent examined Sango's pale, clenched face, and her features seemed to become nearly understanding. However, she shrugged and clicked a button on her phone.
"You can tell that to the tops. Conveniently, I have an appointment with them right now, so you are all welcome to stay."
The ringtone dreadfully resonated in the room, but was suddenly interrupted by a man clearing his throat.
"Taisho-san?" He hoarsely said.
Sango's eyes widened, and she made a step forward, but the woman lifted a finger in warning. The woman stilled. Satisfied, the superintendent lowered her arm and gave a cordial, innocent grin.
"Good to hear you, Shimura-senpai. Were you drinking all morning after you read today's news?"
The officers glanced between each other. Inuyasha slightly tensed, recognizing the man on the phone and inadvertently looked over his shoulder. Kikyo, leaning against the door, answered with an unreadable gaze. Meanwhile, the voice on the other end seemed completely unabashed by the familiar tone the woman was referring to him with.
"I'll be a goner if I drank at every single piece of news you report to me, Taisho-san." He paused a beat. "Which is telling of the quality of your work."
"The quality corresponds to the quality of policemen executing the work of government officials." Taisho raised an eyebrow. "Which the latter regularly fails to do."
The man laughed.
"Well, now we both have a chance to correct our mistakes."
Anger flared on Sango's face, but the superintendent's cold eyes froze her in place.
"That's right," Taisho enunciated, features completely emotionless. The man on the other end seemed not to have noticed the hollowness in her face.
"By the way, Taisho-san, what is the boy doing?"
The superintendent leaned back in her chair and gave an indifferent shrug.
"Like I'd care, Shimura-senpai, but one moment."
She pressed several buttons on the second receiver, seemingly oblivious to the strained gazes of her offices, and the answer was almost immediate.
"Superintendent-san?"
"Hokusai, where is the boy right now?"
There was a long silence as the officer checked the cameras.
"I can't see him, ma'am."
Miroku blinked, while Kagome's face elongated. On her part, Taisho didn't even look surprised.
"Really?" She sincerely asked, picking up the pen and twirling it. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma'am. I've checked all the rooms, but the subject is nowhere to be seen. He's positively not in the house."
"What do you mean not in the house?" It was Shimura. The cordiality that was in his voice was gone, revealing the authoritarian, cold undertones. Taisho, reclining her cheek on her fist, slid her eyes towards the first receiver.
"Don't abuse Hokusai, Shimura-senpai, especially since he's doing his job. Hokusai, that will be all."
"Yes, ma'am."
Taisho pressed the button, gave a long, happy sigh, and turned to the first receiver.
"Well, did you get your answer?" She eagerly asked.
"Taisho-san," the voice was polite, but threatening. "Where the hell is the boy?"
"Shimura-senpai, how am I supposed to know?" The woman sounded as if she genuinely did not know, but the glimmer in her eyes revealed that she was thoroughly enjoying this conversation. Shimura smirked.
"Don't make it sound like you have no clue, Taisho-san. Weren't you able to catch when the boy escaped on your cameras?"
"I'm afraid not," Taisho calmly replied. "After you declared him innocent three days ago, we put down the camera control. In fact, we reinstated it only an hour ago, when my - " she gave the stupefied officers a quick, sarcastic glance "- miserables of workers reported about the events in Hokkaido."
"You let him go," Shimura just as calmly stated. Taisho shrugged, visibly not concerned with whether the official could see her or not.
"Don't waste your breath on accusations, you know I don't pay attention to them."
"I see." There's a quiet chuckle. "You won't be too upset if I'll send over my people to search for the boy?"
"Not at all," the superintendent passed her eyes over the men and women standing in front of her. "I'm conveniently short-handed, and I'm sure some of my officers would love to reunite with their colleagues."
Inuyasha wordlessly squeezed his hands together, looking at his superior in open disgust. Taisho condescendingly grinned and returned to the receiver.
"Any last words for me, Shimura-senpai?"
"Only that you never fail to disappoint."
The phone switched off. Taisho sighed, shaking her head.
"When will he ever learn that insulting me doesn't do anything?" She absently muttered, before looking at the officers.
"By the way, Sango, why didn't you intervene? That was your perfect moment to argue for the rights of your brother."
Sango shook her head. Her knuckles were white from clenching her fingers too hard. Taisho regarded her for a moment, the sarcasm slightly waning away, before switching her gaze to the rest of the officers.
"I assumed that he will go away, if not for self-preservation then not to be a nuisance to Sango." Sango's lips twitched, and she forcibly looked away, hiding her eyes. The superintendent sighed.
"Even though you are better workers than I make you seem, I have no illusions about the people Shimura will send." She grew quiet, thinking something over. "You have at most six hours to find the boy." She cracked a dry chuckle. "I don't know what you'll do with him then, but at least I can give you this much."
"Thank you, Superintendent-san," Miroku bowed and walked over to Sango. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Let's go," he said loud enough only for the woman to hear. Sango's face crunched, but she quickly composed herself, and nodded. Kagome, bowing to the superintendent, trailed after the pair. With a sigh, Inuyasha stood up as well and took the door Kagome was holding out for him. He gestured to Kikyo; the women silently leaned off the wall, but the superintendent's clear voice prevented her from taking a step.
"Kikyo, could you stay for a bit? I need to ask you something."
Kikyo emotionlessly looked at her, then nodded to Inuyasha. That one frowned, but obediently walked out and carefully closed the door. Kikyo fully turned to the senior officer and straightened out.
"Yes, Superintendent-san?"
Fixing the backpack on my shoulders, I glance at the large, round clock hanging from the ceiling. 10:17
Trying to look as confident as possible, I walk towards the exit sign. When I pass by the security guards, my palms inadvertently sweat. Staring straight ahead and not decreasing my pace, I walk right past them. The guards continue amiably talking to each other, and my heart unclenches in relief.
The doors swoosh in front of my face. Immediately, I'm overwhelmed with the flashing taxi lights, the exhales from the pick-up buses, the rumbling of suitcases over the sidewalk, and the preoccupied voices of the passengers. For a moment, the thought of riding the bus crosses my mind before I remember that I used up all the money on the train. Sighing, I step down on the asphalt and walk along the road.
The landscape is pretty lonesome. The low-hanging electric lines sizzle from the faint drizzle, and the wind ruffles the green bushes on both sides of the asphalt. There are overgrown trails snaking to hidden houses, and rusty traffic signs flanking the trees.
After fifteen minutes, a small grocery store appears on the side.
I take a deep breath and cross the road.
The bell chimes when I open the door. The clerk glances up from his book.
"Good morning, boy."
"Good morning," I politely nod. The clerk looks back to his book. Uncertain, I shuffle at the entrance before forcing myself to walk down the aisles. The shelves are stacked, but only with two or three brands of the same product. Feeling depressed, I look at the food, feeling the nervosity creeping up to my throat. Biting my lip, I walk out from the aisles and make my way straight to the counter. Hearing me approach, the clerk looks up again and scrutinizes me through his glasses.
"Can't find something, son?"
"I was thinking of asking if you have any spare work, sir." Holding to the straps of my backpack as if to a lifesaver, I try to keep my voice as straight as possible. "Just for today."
"Work?" The clerk looks more surprised than angry. "You mean for money?"
"Yes sir." I swallow. "Even for one yen would do."
The clerk snorts.
"You can barely buy a pack of nuts for one yen." His eyes trace the backpack. "You need at least a hundred for a train ride if you're running away."
I giggle, trying not to focus on the sweat droplets running down my neck.
"Sir, I'm not running away."
The clerk skeptically eyes me, and I feel my smile wavering. Then, the man smirks and nods towards the storage room.
"Alright. I'll pay you five yen for washing the floor."
That was enough for a package of chips at the station's vending machine. I beam and deeply bow.
"Thank you, sir!"
I carefully lean the mop on the metal shelf and hold my fingers next to it for a few seconds. Satisfied that it won't fall, I pick up my backpack from the floor and sit down on a sealed package. Placing the backpack on my lap, I fish out the sandwich I prepared in the morning and the bottle of water.
Chewing the bread, I look around with my eyes in curiosity. The storage room is cramped and dimly lit, but it had the strange and fascinating smell of the newness of unpacked boxes. My gaze involuntarily fell at my own backpack, stuffed with cans of soup and vegetables. They should last me three to four days.
My eyes linger on the wheel poking out behind one of the shelves. Gazing at it, I take a long sip of water. Suddenly, I feel heating up from shame and doubt as the thought crosses my mind. I quickly look away, trying not to think about the bicycle, and take another hasty bite. Swallowing it without tasting the bread, I shove more than half half of the sandwich into the crumby plastic wrap and stuff it inside. Hurriedly wiping my mouth with the sleeve, I run out of the storage room, forcing the image of the bike out of my head.
Right at the door, I remember about the mop. When I jerked it off the shelf, my eyes inadvertently fell on the bike again. Don't even think about it.
The clerk, arranging slices of fish in the ice, glimpses over his shoulder.
"You eat that quickly?"
I flush red and quickly plop the mop into the bucket. The water deafeningly splashes.
"Yes, sir." I flush even more and quickly stutter on. "I just have these two aisles to finish."
The clerk smirks and goes back to the fish. "Go ahead then."
I vigorously start scrubbing the grey tiles, smearing the water all over the place. No matter how hard I tried to get rid of it, the image of the bike sat stubbornly in my head. Pressing my lips, I squat and reach the mop underneath the display. Clusters of dust, dirt, and crumbs roll back out. I couldn't do it. I wasn't brave enough.
Nonetheless, when I walked back into the storage room, the bike glared at me. Fixing my eyes straight ahead, I open the back door and dump out the dirty water into the street. Hesitating, I glance over my shoulder. I can't even see the bike from here. My grip tightens on the doorknob.
I drag a box towards the door and prop it open. Then, without looking, I quickly walk out of the storage room.
"Five yen, as promised, son."
I, slightly unbelievably, take the coin and deeply bow. It stings in my palm.
"Thank you very much, sir."
"No problem." The clerk looks around the store, satisfied. "You spent a good three hours fixing up my mess. I haven't had such a clean store for years."
I keep myself bowed, feeling both proud and unable to look him in the eye. I feel the clerk turning back to me, and I slowly straighten out. Feeling like I want to kick myself, I broadly smile.
"I'll be going, sir."
The clerk nods and smiles. "Sure thing."
Pushing the door, I look over my shoulder and give a final smile. "Have a good day, sir."
"You too, son."
Outside, I wearily walk up the road a couple of feet. In a daze, I take one of the alleys and appear straight behind the grocery store. Mind empty, I stare at the storage door I left open with the box. I silently take off my backpack and place it next to the wall. Carefully, I step over the box and tiptoe into the storage room. It's so familiar at this point that it's as if I never left. I could hear the clerk whistling as he walked around the store. I squeeze my eyes shut, before slamming them open.
Delicately, I wheedle out the bike and quietly lean it over the shelf. Heart beating in my ears, I noiselessly move the box from the door. It starts to close, but I hurriedly stick out my foot. Reaching with one hand towards the bike's handles, I roll it over and carefully lift it up. Step by step, pressing the bike to my body, I walk out of the storage room. The door quietly closes behind me, and I slowly set the bike on the ground. Releasing the metal structure, I realize just how sweaty my hands are. Trying to ignore the shaking legs, I pick up and hang the backpack over my shoulders, then sit down on the bike. It was made for taller height, and fear, multiplied with the desire to return it back, floods over me. Without thinking, I scramble off and lean the bike on the wall.
The bike, red and gleaming, stares at me. For a few moments, I look back, broken, divided, and ashamed. I close my eyes and take out the five-yen coin out of my pocket.
"I'm so sorry, clerk-san," I quietly say as I slip the coin under the door. Without looking back, I take the bike by the handles and walk out of the alley.
The station is crowded with people. Moving the bike forward, I look around, trying to find the map. It's past four, and I'm tired. Noticing the map on the billboard, I wearily make my way there. Apologizing every now and then, I walk up close and, squinting, quickly find my location.
Howajima
With my finger, I trace a blue line leading from the town. Ten kilometers to the next one...
Two hands land on my shoulders, and a strong floral perfume fills the air.
"Isobe Kohaku?"
My eyes widen, and I slowly shake my head in half-hearted denial. The woman kneels next to me, and my eyes dart on her. She's young, well-dressed, and completely unfamiliar.
"Don't move," she quietly says. Her eyes shimmer. "I'm with the NPASB."
A/N: Cliffhanger!
Honestly, though, Kohaku's chances on escape with zero money were pretty unenthusiastic: groceries' costs start around fifty yen or so... (correct me if I'm wrong, of course, but five yen are still very, very little. But then again, I thought that who will actually pay a kid legit wage?) By the way, just if I forgot to mention this, but all the towns in this story are fictional.
Anyway, thanks for reading! Feel free to leave reviews!