In the fitness room composed of different exercise machines, continuous knuckle and elbow strikes resounded against the punching bag. Kougami Shinya was dressed only in black pants, and the sweat from both his chest and face indicated the time and effort. When he was training, he could forget about everything, since he had to maintain his balance and coordination to perfectly match the blows.
Little by little they were increasing in intensity and above all, violence. He grimaced, suddenly imagining that the punching bag was a blurred and unrecognizable face, whose shape he created to give a reason to his then painful fists. A chill permeated his bones even though his entire body was bathed in sweat, and his chest swelled with air that rose to his throat, as if he were drowning without ever reaching death. Leaning forward, he gave a brutal kick in order to make the image disappear.
A few minutes later, when his body had stopped shaking like a dog in a storm, he went to drink water from a bottle he had taken out of the fridge in the same room, and poured almost all the liquid into his head as a female voice returned to his mind, along with her cold handsome face, "How can you be so sure that there are accomplices?"
It was Yashiro Takahashi. Instead of directly offering information about Kozaburo Toma, she had shown interest in the possibility of accomplices. Slowly, he walked into a small room filled with cigarette smoke, and stood in front of a wall that would be almost completely empty, if it were not for a couple of photographs and notations like hieroglyphics pinned to its surface. Among them was the only blurred, unintelligible one taken of a suspect.
Kougami turned around and went to the white investigation board by the door, which was similar to what the old detectives used to have. He grabbed a black marker, and proceeded to add one more name. It was Yashiro Takahashi, which he attached with an arrow to that of Kozaburo Toma and Toko Kirino. Stretching his black, soggy hair back with the fingertips of the other hand, he wrote a question mark between the two students. Then, he simply took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, releasing a deep puff of smoke in front of him.
A figure of his own height was analyzing the clues behind him, but without ever giving an opinion about them. They were the clues that he himself had obtained before him. However, that day he spoke for the first time with a cigarette between his lips, "She knows you suspect her. You're digging into something you have no control over, just like I did. Be careful, Ko."
"I know. But I'm not alone. I have help. I'm sorry I took that away from you."
The buildings and skyscrapers rose on each side of the highway. Yashiro could not help but look at her rational world with her elbow rested on the door car, and her cheek in her closed hand, a smile dancing on her lips as if she were about to fall asleep. Thanks to the Sibyl System and a harsh policy of isolation, Japan succeeded in escaping global strife and became the only peaceful nation. But what was the cost? Had they left anything behind on their path to perfection?
"In order to rid man of crime, you must fully suppress his freedom," Yashiro uttered with a dreamy voice. "We have only two choices then—happiness without freedom, or freedom without happiness. What would you choose, Choe? Will you take the blue one or the red one?"
He twisted his lips to the left in a never-ending mocking smile. The dark circles beneath his eyes were still there and gave him a somewhat peculiar expression—which added to his clenched jaw and then immobile body, resembled that of a teenager remembering the first time he had ever evaded the law.
"The red one—always. But both terms are inseparable. How can you enjoy a predetermined life? How can you live a life that you don't live for yourself? Is that true happiness? Or is it a lie instead?"
"They have never experienced the feeling of making a right or wrong decision. When people make choices, they ask for Sibyl's judgment instead of agonizing over the consequences. I dare say that not once did they think of a second choice. He who does anything because it is the custom, or because it has been recommended to him… makes no choice.
"If there is no independent judgment, the conscience is suspended. And you cannot give a meaning to life if you do not have consciousness. Maybe that is what I never got to understand about people. What prevented me from spending more time than necessary with others. They are like cars without engines. They give their opinions without first having gone through a process of reasoning and doubt."
The man on the wheel relaxed his face without looking away from the front.
"I think they realize that about themselves, too. They still have some dignity left because they're human beings. Notice how they instantly recognize the one who is independent. See how they condemn a man simply because of the greatness of his free choice. I tell you they would be able to forgive Sibyl or accept dictators—but they would hate someone who steps out of line, who isn't governed, because they're everything they can't be."
Yashiro nodded her head and blinked with a sudden fleeting half smile.
"They know they are their strictest judge—for there is no point in lying to yourself—and so they run from themselves. They spend their lives running… and accept the Sibyl System because it fills that empty space inside of their hearts. Self-aware individuals seeking freedom remind them of what they do not have. The most important thing they have lost—or allowed to disappear.
"Now I understand what I always recognized at once from people. What makes me choose friends not with a huge fishing net, but with an arrow. Men who seek to be an end in themselves… not a means to the ends of others. Those who have goals, who recognize no authority higher than their own mind… and no value higher than their own judgment."
Choe's eyes crinkled when he gave her an affectionate smile and remained with the same expression for a long time, without saying a single word. Then he arched an eyebrow and finally looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "You're just like the people from the past. You follow your instincts... you have hunches…"
"I do not judge people according to numbers as the Sibyl System does. I judge and measure others by my own standards. And I accept that I cannot change a person's values for them. They must choose their own measurement by themselves and for themselves."
"And what conclusions do you draw about me, miss?"
Her face contorted with a fleeting scowling glance.
"You care too much about public opinion. You crave for my approval," she sighed while turning to him, her voice loud at first. "You see the world as a popularity contest you think you are losing. You measure yourself and people through social status because they have always treated you as a latent criminal, without recognizing your brilliance.
"You hate that they do not value your talent, and you envy people who have perfect hues but hesitate to find a job or a career, because you were not even given a choice. And that is why you are so conflicted about me… you need me, just like Makishima."
He stood still with his eyes barely open. He used to give the impression that he was not paying attention to others, yet he did care about what she said. His lips were tight and his face was perfectly calm, like that of an imposing photograph of a captain in his moment of glory.
"Imagine a world without the Sibyl System," he slowly whispered as his eyes glared in awe. "If we destroy it… we'll have freedom outside, too. I'm always in hiding while you live on the surface. Come down for a moment miss, look up and tell me. How would you feel… if you saw those who took everything from you… and treated you like scum all your life… losing themselves to tear this city apart? Wouldn't it be fun to watch them kill each other?"
Yashiro's chest filled with air as the deep sound of his voice resounded in her mind. Her eyes closed completely for a moment, and she released an audible sigh that caught his attention.
"I would feel… at ease. To be feared and despised as if you were an animal… then watch them become what they tried so hard to suppress—themselves. I would seek comfort in the fact that after so much suffering, people at last would find a light amidst darkness… one that would not come from another Sibyl System."
"I knew you would understand. Shougo was right about you."
"It does not mean I would impose my own view of happiness. Is that a way of justifying yourself to me?"
"I wasn't trying to" —he widened his eyes, then looked back at her—"yes."
"Why?"
It took him several seconds to finally find words, "You understand me in a way no one else has before."
The silence between the two of them became deeper. But no more words were needed. When they arrived at the residence and Choe closed the door behind her, both went into the large living room where a long white couch was in the middle. The fireplace at the end of the room was lit and matched the red carpet on the floor. Yashiro left her black backpack on a small table behind the couch, and Choe Gu-sung's voice echoed softly and clearly in the room as he walked to the kitchen, "Shougo's upstairs in his study."
Yashiro walked up the stairs slowly and her footsteps barely echoed down the corridor. When she reached the first room, she noticed that the door was half open and decided to enter without making a sound. She was surrounded by two large bookshelves that were against the wall, and at the end of the room a desk with a lighted lamp and a closed hardcover book next to it. Everything was made of wood and was perfectly maintained and clean; a rare style that a person could only enjoy by means of holograms, since that kind of furniture was difficult to find. Without hardly being aware she was already walking gracefully along the bookshelves, gazing at the books from a distance.
"Courtesy of an old friend," the mocking and measured voice rumbled throughout the room.
Yashiro stifled a chuckle with a slight smirk and turned around, finding the amber-colored eyes staring at her from the other bookshelf.
"You have no friends," she blurted out shaking her head.
Makishima gave her back a weak yet peaceful smile, letting silence come between the two of them as she turned to the books once again and leaned forward to study one in particular. He took a few steps toward her with his hands in the pockets of his beige pants, looking for what had caught her attention, but stopped behind her back as he managed to recognize the name of the author—Arthur Schopenhauer.
His gaze suddenly settled on her right shoulder as a smell of lavender flooded his nostrils, and when he noticed that Yashiro was immersed in a page of the book, he bent cautiously bringing his nose to her black coat. Suddenly, he opened his eyes when he was invaded by cigarette smell instead. Yashiro frowned and raised her head a few centimeters, bringing him to his senses. Makishima tilted his head to the side as she put the book back in the same place, her body did not seem to be bothered by the unexpected closeness.
"A smoking boyfriend, perhaps?" Makishima tried to guess with a certain loud tone, his piercing eyes slightly scowling at her.
Yashiro sighed and shook her head, walking past him to the desk and leaning against the wooden surface. The amber eyes sparkled as he crossed his arms over his white shirt to observe her, his gaze growing skeptical and almost accusing. Yashiro parted her lips but words did not come out. The other in response arched an eyebrow tauntingly inviting her to continue, yet she closed her eyes for a few seconds imagining his reaction, "Three agents came to my apartment and one of them was smoking like a chimney."
"What were these agents looking for?"
"They wanted to know about Toma," she looked down with sudden concern. "But I did not tell them anything."
"You did the right thing. May I ask what this concern is about?"
Yashiro shook her head for a moment, until she finally looked at him again, "They know he is not the only culprit behind the murders. They are searching for the one who could have made the resin and the one who provided the materials."
"Unfortunately for them… they'll have to keep searching," he uttered, as his mouth curved into a faint smile for a second.
"You look confident. Aren't you worried that you might be linked?"
Makishima stepped toward her with a gentle guttural laugh, "The only living proof they have resides in a girl who can't even speak. And they haven't placed cameras in the academy, so everything that happens inside stays inside."
For the moment; Yashiro was sure they would install cameras throughout the academy building in the future, if they had not already done so.
"You did not see the faces of these guys. I think they know something," Yashiro insisted narrowing her eyes. "They looked at me as if I were playing devil's advocate."
Makishima leaned against the desk next to her with his legs slightly apart, his hands on the wooden surface and his gaze fixed on hers, "I trust you will not allow them to go any further."
She closed her eyes, unable to exchange another look with him at that moment.
"You cannot hide forever, Makishima. They will hunt you down someday."
He arched an eyebrow putting his hands together, and turned to the bookshelf in front of them, "Shouldn't you be worried about your former partner? I don't need to remind you what could happen to her."
Yashiro's eyes opened staring at the floor, her body was strangely tilted forward as if the world were resting on her back. Makishima gently widened his eyes to her, recognition dawned on his face.
"You can sow with care but what grows next is the fruit of its own nature," he stated, looking at the part of her neck that was not hidden by her hair.
"I am afraid that the apple will fall too far from the tree," she replied in a mumble.
Makishima curled his lip showing part of his teeth, and suddenly stood up taking some steps forward. His fingers played an invisible piano next to his body, but then he turned around with his right heel slightly in the air, and his narrowed eyes stuck in hers.
"Why can't you just get rid of her? She didn't ask you to help her. She doesn't even know that she's alive because of you," his voice shattered the quiet before it, rumbling and trembling throughout the room.
Yashiro blinked as words struck her, she was unable to make a single move, for she could not actually believe his odd reaction and remained still as she asked, "Wouldn't you do the same?"
"Why do you care so deeply about her? You can't even look at her since she helped Toma commit his murders, can you? Have you met each other again?"
"I expect no answer from her—I don't even care about her indifference. Nothing else matters to me—only the fact that she has no replacement, for she has a place in my heart."
Makishima instantly curled his lip raising his head a few centimeters, and one of his eyes squinted as if someone had stabbed him in the back for a second.
"You always protect those you care about first, even if your life is in danger."
"This isn't about Rikako," she cut him short with a scowl and shook her head. "You… it's about you. You didn't expect me to save you from Sasayama that night—"
"I expected you to kill him and then kill me, for dragging Rikako into Toma's game. You did neither, for you needed me to find answers—"
"I didn't just risk my life because I needed you," Yashiro blurted out with a voice between a whisper and a shout. "But because I care about you."
"Don't ever do that again."
Yashiro blinked with her mouth half open, unable to believe what her ears had heard—both her own words and his response. Standing up in front of him, she saw the way his jaw tightened as he looked down at her. The only thing that separated them was a space of a few centimeters.
"You cannot accept help from anyone," she softly stated looking through his eyes and making a long pause. "Has someone ever helped you? Are you like this... because you feel you don't deserve it? Is that why you can't trust anyone… you can't let your guard down?
"I don't expect any answer from you either. You're careful not to be vulnerable for a second in front of anyone else."
Yashiro moved away from his closeness, going back to look at the books. It became harder for her to find her breath, as if by stabbing him with those words, she had just hurt herself in the process.
"Thank you," a deep, spontaneous voice stopped her.
She slowly turned around with her hands on her back, a smile came to her lips and her heart quickened with sincere joy.
"You're welcome," it was the first time she enjoyed uttering such simple words.
There was a long silence that both took advantage of to analyze each other, but it was Yashiro who decided to change the subject, "There is something else. When the detectives came, they mentioned that Toma is missing."
"And?" His voice was almost a whisper.
Yashiro walked around the study, pointing with one hand as if inspired.
"I know Toma. He is too stubborn. Impulsive. Careless. Once he starts something he does not stop until he finishes it."
"Perhaps he got bored and decided to run away, knowing that he has nothing left."
"That is not the Toma I knew," she slowly shook her head. "He would never run away—it is not his style. And even less knowing what we did to Toko."
"She was a simple toy for him."
"He loved her. Based on his own concept of love, of course."
"And based on yours?"
"He... was obsessed with her."
He sat in an old wooden Victorian armchair next to the desk. Leaning against the dark red upholstered back, he looked up slowly, almost as if asking permission to exchange a glance with her, then crossed one leg over the other and placed an elbow on the armrest. Suddenly he asked, "Is there a difference between love and obsession?"
Yashiro's brows drew together as she turned to him. He then lightly rested his left hand on his cheek without using it as a head support, entirely focused on her and waiting for an answer that took her several seconds to find.
"If you loved someone… you would not hold them back from where they might belong."
There was an expression of genuine peace on his face that lingered for a while as he melted into her eyes.
"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."
Yashiro was standing there, a smile slowly covering her lips as well as his own. Then Makishima got serious as he questioned, "You think he might be dead?"
"I think they made him disappear."
His eyes suddenly flickered with interest, "They?"
"For the Sibyl System, there are no mistakes. There cannot be. But there are always people who betray reason. And if someone were to threaten the credibility of that perfection… people must continue to believe that it functions perfectly. At least that is what I would do.
"As Sasayama said—individuals like him would make people doubt this society's order, causing others to be affected by it."
"Is there a sector of society that benefits from the existence of the Sibyl System?"
"How ironic," she smirked at him. "I asked the same question."
"The government doesn't," he argued with a thoughtful look. "First thing a totalitarian government does is to disarm population, to deprive them of the right to legitime defense. So far so good for them, but they have no control over the monopoly on violence. The Sibyl System is an independent entity that surpasses them all, which is why politicians like Mr. Hashida have to falsify their crime coefficients."
"Since the creation of the Sibyl System there is no such thing as the rule of law," Yashiro added gesturing with her hands. "Basically because there is no equality before the law. People like us or Toma cannot be judged. That is what a politician would most want to obtain impunity, but if I were one of them... I would prefer to go to another country where it is easier to be corrupt."
He slightly shook his head as the corner of his mouth quirked up.
"Don't you feel that in this country the government is like a mask?"
"It represents this country keeping curious looks away; Japan became protectionist long ago and we seek to live by ourselves. The problem is... that an autarky is not sustainable in the long term. Someday... everything is going to fall apart."
"More precisely—it's not attainable in real life, like closed systems in physics. Every order requires more or less from its environment and it's difficult to isolate oneself from it completely.
"Without competition, companies within the industry don't need to innovate. Eventually, the domestic product will decline in quality and be more expensive than what foreign competitors produce. I'm dying to know then, Yashiro. What do you think would happen if there was some kind of problem in Hyper-oats?"
Yashiro lifted an eyebrow as she scrutinized the way his eyes burned with genuine interest. He had wanted to corner her from the very beginning, to let her know what he was capable of. And still, Yashiro felt that he deemed it necessary to share the sense of that power with her.
"We would have to... loosen our isolation policies to allow for import of food. There would be food shortages as well. And… it could cause nationwide stress and increased hue cloudiness. Which would ultimately lead to…"
"The breakdown of the Sibyl System."
He had said it with such naturalness and ease that it took Yashiro several seconds to feel the real weight of the words—the truth hidden in them. Her face hardened and her eyes narrowed as if they had lost the strength to stay fully open.
"Is that your way of... opening yourself to the gentle indifference of the world?"
His mouth slowly curved into a smile.
"Would you be there the day of my execution, Yashiro… among the large crowd of spectators, greeting me with cries of hate?"