Employees of the Aquarium:
Arata Kai (60 years old)- aquarium director
Shion Kai (28 Years old)- Aquarium assistant director
Takato Kagawa (32 years old)- Aquarium Caretaker
Rita Nitta (25 years old)- Part-time diver
Junpei Kato (17 years old)- Part-time customer service staff
Taichi Morimito (17 years old)- Part-time customer service staff
Danno Iwasaki (45 year old)- Security guard
Kawasaki Kinoshita (40 year old)- Security guard
Yuuto Yamada (30 year old) -HR Manager
Chapter 35
The woman with a thousand faces
A Mask. The act of hiding one's true feelings. Deeply buried secrets, emotions bottled up, a fake smile followed by nervous laughter—emanate from the man in front.
When Shion was quiet, he had a defeated, seemingly despondent look on his face. He walked with a slumped posture and carried a distant look when the others conversed. Shion Kai was hiding something despite his pleasant, well-mannered demeanor.
That smiling, indecipherable facade—Shiho sees through it.
"Shion-san, is this your workplace?" Shiratori asked. The inspector looked unimpressed with the dingy location Shion had led them to. Despite being the successor of his father's aquarium, he had quite a modest office. It was located in the basement, close to the generators for the tank. Shiho observed the man walking towards a shaking cabinet. The vibration of the furniture caused by the loud rumbling drones of the generators. The room was illuminated by a naked bulb that was swinging slightly. He poured water into two cups handing it to them.
"I generally work on the floor, so a grand office is not that practical," he explained. It was obvious to Shiho why the staff respected the courteous man. Rather than leading by force, he led by example. It was a stark contrast to the pig that was his father.
"Do you mind if we look around?" Shiratori asked, and the man nodded politely.
"Go ahead," the man trailed off, his gaze settling on Shiho.
"Don't mind me. I'm the inspector's niece," she replied before he could ask the usual question.
"Well...but isn't this...?"
"An unsuitable place for a kid?" she replied, and he frowned.
"Perhaps, but it's okay," she said, moving through the dingy room. "You call it a murder, but I call it a Monday."
"What—"
"She has been entrusted to me by her parents today," Inspector Shiratori cuts in before Shion can ask more questions. The well-dressed man sighed. Then he bent over and patted Shiho on the head. He produced a sweet from his pocket and presented it to her. "Although it is unfortunate that you had to experience this during your visit, I hope your next visit will be more enjoyable."
Shiho accepts the sweet before continuing their search.
"What are the contents of these boxes?" Shiratori pointed to the corners of the room. A few white cardboard boxes were neatly stacked to the side.
"They're my personal belongings. I was planning to give them away," Shion replied casually.
"Your belongings?"
"Yes, they were taking up too much space," he said. Shiho pursed her lips at his statement. Too much space? The room was almost empty. There were no decorations on the walls. The furniture is limited to the bare essentials—a cabinet and a work table. His office did not provide any insight into the man's character. It was as if—
Shiratori opened one of the boxes and found a couple of cartoon characters similar to those she had seen in Mitsuhiko's house. The freckled boy loves anything to do with robots and superheroes. It would seem Shion was no different. "It's childish, isn't it?" he commented.
"Yes," Shiho quipped, and Shion scratched his chin sheepishly.
"Don't mind her," Shiratori eyed her with a warning, "I don't see any problem with liking these as an adult."
They were many of them stacked neatly in the box, from robots to monsters to female characters, to the latest Kamen Rider series.
"Is there a reason you are giving them away?"
"Tou-san said it was a waste of time," Shion answered, and Shiho exchanged a glance with Shiratori.
No comment was made, the man seemingly revealing a sore spot. Shiratori shifted the boxes as he sorted through them.
"On the day Makoto-san went missing, Shion-san, where were you?" Shiratori continued.
"With my father," he replied without hesitation, "we were having a meeting and preparing the financial reports."
"Where?"
"In his office, it's located on the 2nd floor. I can get the reports for you if you like."
"That won't be necessary," Shiratori said before going through the box again. Once again, taking up a figure from an anime series. It differed from the others—a pink dolphin with a note attached. There were heart marks and a very poignant birthday wish on it.
"What exactly is your relationship with Makoto-chan?" Shiratori asked as he inspected the note.
Shiho observed the man's troubled expression, but it faded quickly behind a sunny smile.
"We were colleagues," he said, "but good friends. Rita introduced us...she was..." he stopped, hand resting over his forehead. He leaned against the wall for a moment, appearing to be in great distress.
"Shion-san?"
His reaction is understandable—the death of a friend must be brutal. "She was the only one who supported my hobbies," he explained, "I cannot believe that anyone would do such a thing to her. I just…can't..."
Clearly, the man was flustered, and pushing him any further might not yield the results they were looking for. The questioning was stopped, and the boxes were arranged again. While sorting through the last one, Shiho caught sight of it. Behind the boxes, a slight dent in the flimsy drywall of the office.
"What is this?" Shiratori asked Shion as he walked over. Perplexed, both the inspector and the young man inspect it.
"It wasn't there when I moved the boxes," Shion murmured, hands on his chin, pondering. It was quite a severe dent—looking like it has been kicked in. It would be impossible to miss—either Shion was genuine in his statement, or he was quite the actor. "Do you mind if I collect some samples?" Shiratori asked.
"No, go ahead," Shion replied, and Shiratori-san pulled out a bag from his pocket, picked at the drywall, and placed it in the bag.
While Shion assisted the inspector, Shiho walked over to his desk. It was old, had a missing leg, and was somewhat unsteady, unbefitting of a table. No matter how humble a person might be, Shion needed to stand up for himself.
Reaching for the drawer, she carefully opened it. It contained a few documents and files, nothing unusual. Then she opened another and another but found nothing. Just as she is about to move on, she notices something strange. It was evident that the lower drawer was larger, and there appeared to be... two compartments...
Once again, she found herself staring at a pile of paper documents. While sifting through them, something solid struck her fingers. There was something cold, metallic, and—
Raising the item to the light, she glanced at Shion, who was still assisting the inspector. And she deftly placed the item in her pocket.
"Is there anything the matter?" Shion asked when he noticed her standing apart. It was—
A mask.
Two could play that game.
"Nothing," she answered, bearing a bright smile. "Shion-san."
Through the narrow corridors, Shinichi walked toward the backrooms. Generators buzzed everywhere, and there were whispered comments and curious glances from staff passing by. Having heard the news and the rumors, dirty glances were aimed at both Takato and Rita-san.
Since Makoto's death was confirmed, speculation has focused on her closest colleagues. Takato Kagawa, 32, had worked at the aquarium for nearly six years. Shion-san had recommended him. Apparently, they were close confidantes in college. Rita Nitta, 25, entered the aquarium three years ago, just like Makoto. Like Shion and Takato, they were close college friends. Still sobbing, Rita wipes her eyes. In contrast, a stern expression dominated Takato's expression—he appeared to be enraged rather than sad.
"Hey, Ran," Shinichi whispered, nudging the raven-haired girl walking alongside him. His childhood friend glared at him intently, and he frowned when she ignored him. She had been avoiding him on purpose ever since the trip began. What's up with her? He nudged her again, not understanding the reason for her hostility.
"What it is, Shinichi," she snapped, and he drew back.
"All I require is confirmation of their whereabouts on the day Makoto-san disappeared. Could you ask them?" He replied.
"Why should I ask them when you are here?" Ran huffed, turning away from him, and he narrowed his eyes at her sudden outburst.
"In light of my predicament and the fact that I am practically a child, why don't you cooperate with me? This is an easy task. Why are you making it so complicated?" he commented, folding his arms.
"Oh," Ran stopped, turning around. Shinichi gulped at the restrained fury in her eyes. Even though she smiled, there was something dangerous about it. And he did not intend to poke the hornet's nest. Not when the girl holds a black belt in karate. "So when you need me, it's suddenly my concern?"
He paused, the realization hitting him. As he glanced carefully at his childhood friend, remorse struck him. Shinichi had not been kind. "This has nothing to do with you!" he had shouted at her during the meeting earlier. She must have been hurt by it. If anything—he had acted unfairly.
Shinichi bowed sheepishly while scratching the back of his head. "I let my emotions get the better of me," he said, "I know you're still mad at me, but I want you to know you're an integral part of this operation…and I apologize."
He waited, believing that she might strike him, but then she sighed, and the tension was released from her rigid posture. "This isn't over yet, Shinichi," Ran told him. "I still have questions, and I would like answers."
"Fine," he replied, breathing a sigh of relief. "Ok, what do I need to ask them again?" she asked, and Shinichi repeated his question.
Shinichi paused for a moment, glad that Ran was willing to forgive him. It had been a messy ride, he thought. It is unlikely that the operation will proceed smoothly. There were still some gaps, and certain elements were missing. Shinichi was unable to shake the feeling. Furthermore—
"Shinichi, what are you waiting for? Hurry up," Ran called out to him. Walking towards her, he shook off the worry that had suddenly arisen. It could be dealt with later.
In the meantime, he had to take care of other matters. Starting with—
"What do you mean by that, Takato-san?" Shinichi asked as the man regarded him again. They had wasted five minutes on the usual "What is a child doing here?" debacle, which Shinichi was getting sick of. Now they were in a small side room. Each locker was labeled. As Rita and Takato open theirs, the contents are visible to all.
"I'm telling you— Arata-san, that asshole was responsible."
"Without proof, I find it hard to believe," Shinichi muttered, glancing at the man who snorted when Ran inquired about his whereabouts the day Makoto disappeared.
"Look, Rita and I are low-wage workers. Most of our time is spent in the backrooms, maintaining the tank."
"Why did no one report her disappearance?"
"Makoto was a free spirit who didn't believe in corporate hours," Rita interrupts, wiping her eyes, "she worked part-time and only came when needed. Arata-san had a problem with it, but he couldn't do anything...Makoto was the only person skilled and capable enough to clean the central tank."
"My guess is that she made a couple of enemies along the way?"
"No, she was outgoing and kind, though eccentric. Makoto was well-liked," Rita added, and Takato laughed.
"Well, I'm starting to doubt that," Takato snapped.
"How can you say such a thing!" Rita glared at him.
"She promised me not to disclose our relationship."
"You're an asshole," Rita whispered harshly, and both man and woman engaged in a verbal battle. Ran trying to stop them but to no avail. Shinichi studied his surroundings while ignoring them.
Above, a cracked lamp flickered intermittently. The room hadn't been inspected for some time and was clearly in need of upgrading. Gray walls stained with dirt have cracks running across them. An old air conditioner was encrusted with spiderwebs. Despite its ancient age, the device was still working and chugged and groaned as it blew hot and cold air. It was likely the cause of the stuffiness in this room. Shinichi was beginning to understand why Takato was dissatisfied with Arata. To cut costs, the old man does not provide for his staff's most basic needs.
Shinichi then turned to the opened lockers, examining Takato's first.
There was not much to be found inside—a few clothes, bags, and...anime figurines. Aquarium advertisements are pinned to the walls of the locker. Behind it was a picture of Takato's wife and child carelessly stuffed behind it. The photo of his family was crumpled and torn in many places. With all the care he took in displaying the image, Shinichi smirked; he must have really treasured them.
"She told me that she was okay with it," Takato affirmed when Ran brought up his affair with Rita. Both parties are still engaged in an argument. The man showed no remorse for his actions, instead resorting to anger. It appears that this was his default mode. "Makoto did not even attempt to stop it. She was even fine with it. If she had a problem, she should have discussed it with us first instead of bringing it up to Arata," Takato sneered. "That hypocrite I should have known."
And Shinichi had to hold a hand out to stop Ran. There was no doubt that his childhood friend was about to slap the man across the face.
"Stop it, Takato," Rita told him. "Makoto meant no harm." Placing her hands over her face, she wiped away the tears. "She cared about me...and wanted to..."
"Am I not good enough?" Takato grumbled as he slammed his locker shut. "I sacrificed my time for you, and now you reject me!"
"You are married, Kagawa-san," Ran seethes, and Takato folded his arms, leaning against the walls.
"So what?"
Ran shook her head in disgust as Shinichi inspected Rita's locker. There were a few clothes and a small bag packed inside—nothing unusual. Shinichi also noted polaroid photographs of Rita and Makoto along the locker walls. Two young women, fresh out of college, who have secured their dream jobs. Her brown chestnut hair was cut short with long bangs parted to the side. Makoto's bright blue eyes were looking at the camera. Her freckles, tanned skin, and slightly muscular arms indicated that she was athletic. It was a pity. Shinichi dug deeper and discovered a strange figure beneath Rita's spare clothing. The item was an anime figurine.
Looking at the two, Shinichi frowned, bringing it up. "Could this possibly be a shared hobby?"
"It's Shion's," Rita said through her sniffles, "he's been giving away all his stuff these past months."
"Giving away?"
"Yes, are there any problems?" Takato snapped. "Shion mentioned something about shifting offices. This old fart is also giving him a hard time with his hobby. Stupid son of a bitch."
"Shifting office?"
"Arata was never happy with Shion's accomplishments. It was always—you can do better than this, or I do not agree with this. And Shion, that idiot, always takes it with a fucking smile. Never once did he complain. And now," Takato snorted. "Forget it. Anything I say now would be used against me anyway."
Shinichi regarding the information before closing Rita's locker. There was still one locker left, and it was still locked. Neither of them had access to it. The locker belonged to the victim, and Shinichi requested it to be opened. Takato denied it at first, arguing with them until Ran stood up. He fell silent out of fear and apprehension.
"I'll contact HR to get the spare keys," Rita said quietly. She walked slowly with slumped shoulders. Ran had to support her. Still in shock, the woman was grieving.
"What a farce," Takato grumbled as he followed them. When Shinichi was about to do the same, a door next to the last locker creaked open. Shinichi recognized it as the meal prep room they had examined earlier. Hadn't the police cordoned off the area? The curiosity got the better of him, and Shinichi approached it.
Only to be greeted by the pungent odor of slimy fish and a cunning smile from a blonde-haired detective. Amuro-san pulled him into the room and closed the door behind him. He barely had time to react before the man covered his mouth with a gloved hand.
"Not a word," Amuro replied. Taking out a tape from his pocket, Shinichi glared at the man.
"As I recall, you had an errand to run?" Shinichi eyed the tape.
"A little sleuthing never hurt anyone," Amuro responded. "This tape contains CCTV images of the room in question."
Amuro pointed directly to the CCTV camera mounted on the ceiling.
"Based on how the victim had been discovered, I figured there might be some footage of the events that took place in the particular room," Amuro stated. "But as I went through the tapes, what did I find?"
Shinichi ponders, and the realization hits him.
"Absolutely nothing," he states.
"Yes, the footage of the past week has been wiped clean following Makoto Okano's disappearance. Nothing remains," Amuro affirms.
"You don't mean…" Shinichi muttered.
"There is also the issue of the missing body. If I'm not mistaken, the police have not found Makoto's body in its entirety, am I right? It's as if..."
"Her dismembered parts are kept elsewhere," Shinichi concluded, and Amuro nodded in agreement.
Fish Chum. Human Flesh and Bone. A disgruntled employee. A corrupted boss. An affair. Earrings. And—
"Is there a reason you are helping me, Amuro-san?" Shinichi asked, genuinely confused. And the man's ironic smile disappeared—Shinichi staring at Bourbon for a brief moment. A member of a black organization that once served as a threat.
"You need to wrap this up quickly, Kudou-kun," Amuro said, "this place isn't safe. Not since the FBI irresponsibly divulged the organization's identity."
Shinichi squirmed at his words. "The Organization's top members have been hunting down traitors after the news, and I was quite high on their list of targets. Apparently, they thought I was a spy for the FBI, of all things."
"What happened?" Shinichi asked.
"An assassination attempt, I suppose. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to retire earlier," Amuro-san said, chuckling dryly. "It's helped put things into perspective, made my life easier now that I don't have to be a double agent."
Shinichi studies the man as he approaches the freezer.
"A storm is brewing, Kudou-kun," Amuro states, to Shinichi's dismay. It cemented the persistent, suffocating strain he had been experiencing all afternoon. "And you need all the help you can get."
Amuro opens the freezer. A series of frozen fish cubes were still contained in it. It appears that not all of the evidence was removed by the forensics team. The tanned PSB agent reached deeper in.
"But for now," said the man, taking out an object—silver, circular, and twirling it. A sweet smile graced Amuro-san's lips.
A ring.
"It's your turn, little detective."
"Not taking center stage now?" Shiho teased Shinichi as he settled beside her. The shrunken detective was fidgety, tapping his feet in a rhythmic drum-like fashion. Having arrived at the crime scene about 30 minutes ago, they stood waiting for information to be analyzed. More crucial evidence about Makoto's death is revealed by the professor and Inspector Megure.
"It's hard to tell," Megure said, "but based on the skull fragments and brain tissue found, forensics suspect blunt force trauma caused the death. Though, further tests will be conducted."
"And about Kinoshita-san, the night shift guard," Shiratori added.
"That should be sufficient," Shinichi states.
Bounding to his parents, the detective whispered into his father's ear. Kudou Yusaku, a man Shiho had never interacted with, listened intently. With uncanny resemblance, he forms the same smirk Shinichi had. Yukiko-san, who had been watching them both, clapped her hands in delight. She made a remark that caused Shinichi to scowl and Yusaku to laugh. The man took hold of Yukiko and Shinichi and patted them.
Shiho smiled slightly at the scene but stopped when she noticed the man standing on the 2nd level, overlooking the central tank. It was the old gentlemen that Ran had helped before. He was studying Shinichi and his parents intently, she might add. Shiho frowns at the situation. He adjusted the tie on his suit and turned— his attention now turned to her. Their gazes locked for a moment, and there it was—that killing intent reminiscent of—
"Just stick to your part Kaa-chan," Shinichi warned his mother before approaching Shiho. She was alarmed when she realized the man had disappeared. "I swear that mother of mine..." he trailed off, grasping her shoulders.
"What's wrong?" he asked before surveying the area.
"What?" she whispered, dazed.
"Have you sensed anything?"
She was unable to respond. The pace of her heart is frantic, like the speed of a bullet train barreling by.
"Shiho?" he pressed.
He held her— eyes darted across the room, and he took a protective stance.
Shiho gathers herself.
"It's nothing," she answered, and he furrowed his brows in disbelief.
"It can't be nothing. What is it?"
The irritation festered.
"What about you, then?"
"Don't do that," he snapped, "I'm asking the question here," he folded his arms.
"Why are you so concerned?"
He paused, shifting uncomfortably, before giving her a weak smile. "With the planning for the operation, my nerves are probably getting the best of me," he reassured
Again, he lied. Keeping everything sealed, not wanting to blow the lid off. It was a bad habit of his, and Shiho swallowed her apprehension. Something was brewing in the midst. Though he tried to remain cool, she knew it affected him somehow.
Idiot. Taking his hands, she squeezed them tightly.
"Shiho?"
"You asked me not to be alone, didn't you?" she muttered. She couldn't allow Shinichi to go running off alone—like he always did. Puzzled, he studied her and then relaxed his stance.
"If you wanted to hold hands, you could have just told me," he teased. Shiho glared at him with lips parted. The concern was still there, but he carried a smug expression, which she wanted to wipe clean. Instead, she tightens her grip.
"Whatever, let's get this over with lest…" she eyed him, "the Kudou's curse gets us caught in another case."
He was about to retort when Inspector Shiratori brought the suspects into the scene. As expected, there were four of them. Arata was first. The bluish tint of the central tank behind reflected the displeasure in his eyes. Grumbling, he wrapped his hands tightly around the handle of his cane. Shion, his son, followed. Walking with his usual hunched back, he bowed in apology. The next to arrive was Takato and Rita-san. The woman's eyes were red, and she was using the sleeves of her uniform as a handkerchief. Hiccupping lightly, she hid behind the three men when she saw the procession in front of her. Takato, on the other hand, expressed scorn and had his hands in his pockets. With a saunter, he snorted when he approached Arata-san.
"Waste of time," Takato muttered. "We already know who is responsible."
"You—" Arata about to dispute when Shiratori stops them.
"We have solved the case," he said, "If you want to finish this quickly, let's listen and behave like adults."
"You figured it out?" Shion asked in surprise.
"What do you mean by that? "Arata-san snapped, banging his cane against the marble.
"Why? You have something to hide?" Takato scoffed. A light cough escaped Ran's lips, and the two men stared at her wearily.
"As I said," Shiratori said, giving the two men a warning, "we have solved the case. Kudou-san here has assembled enough evidence for an arrest."
"What can an author accomplish?" Arata snorted, "I hired Yusaku Kudou for an event, not to solve crimes."
There was a pause as the suspects stared at the unsuspecting Arata-san. Shiho feels sorry for the ignorant egg-head as Yusaku emerged from his hidden corner, smiling sweetly. He stood in front of the tank. As the creatures swam leisurely behind him, they created a dramatic display that made him seem like a hero from a Hollywood movie. His glasses gleam in soft lighting as he gazes at the suspects. "You are right," he started, "I am but just a humble writer."
Shinichi snorted. "Humble writer, he says," he grumbled, and Shiho nudged him.
"Jealous?"
"How so?"
"But his...his stealing my spotlight," Shiho mocked, imitating his voice.
"I am not that childish."
"Ara, is that so, Shin-chan."
"Never hang out with my mother again," he quipped.
"Ok, six-year-old bed wetter-san," she continued. "Or was it seven?"
He gaped before gathering himself. "It was six," he sneered before turning to the woman beside his father. "That old hag," he grumbled, and Shiho chuckled.
"But even this humble writer has a few hobbies, one of which he excels at," Yusaku continued. Quite dramatically, he turns around and points brazenly at Arata-san, who flinched. The egg-headed man became quite flustered as Yusaku approached him. "You, Arata-san, are our prime suspect."
"What!?" There were collective gasps.
"I knew it!" Takato exclaimed.
"Wait, that wasn't what you said," Shiratori-san interrupted.
Shinichi slapped his forehead with a hand. Ran and the professor looked at each other in confusion. As the chaos unfolded, Yusaku turned to his wife for assistance.
"Did I do it right?"
"Yu-chan, I told you not to reveal the culprit's name until the end. Why are you jumping the gun?" she chided. Adjusting his spectacles, the man frowned.
"But you told me to add a dramatic flair."
"There is a specific order to it. Mo, Yu-chan, you have just ruined it."
"Oh, for the love of god," Shinichi muttered, about to interrupt when Shion stepped in.
"Making such a serious accusation without proof is quite irresponsible, isn't it?"
He spoke casually, but Shiho could sense his irritation. Yusaku and Yukiko stopped their argument before directing their attention to the suspects. Clearing his throat, Shinichi's father bowed his head.
"My apologies, why not we start from the beginning," he suggested.
"That would be ideal," Megure-san replied.
"Makoto Okano," Yusaku began again. The suspects winced at the mention of her name. "Disappeared a week ago, and the last contact with her was as follows. In the case of Kagawa and Nitta-san, Makoto-san had just finished cleaning the main tank and was getting ready to leave. Kagawa-san, you were the last person to speak with her before she left the lockers, right?"
"Yes," Takato confirms.
"Nitta-san, where did you last see Makoto-san?"
The woman hesitates before looking at Shion.
"I saw her entering Shion's office. Makoto always did that after work, so it wasn't unusual. She enjoyed talking with him, and I didn't think..." she trailed off, realizing something too late.
"Arata-san, you mentioned a week ago that you and Shion were working on the aquarium's financial reports. Am I correct? "
"Yes, and I've already given you the reports," he snapped.
"Are you sure?"
"Why wouldn't I be?!"
"Yukiko, if you will," Yusaku instructed. A wide grin spread across Yukiko's lips as she lifted the yellow tape surrounding the scene. A beautiful mature-looking woman made her way in. She wore stylish glasses, had curly brown hair, and carried herself well. The pencil skirt around her waist was tight, and her posture was elegant. Strolling in confidently in black high heels, she focused her attention on Arata as she pressed her lips into a tight line.
The woman glared at him as if he were garbage.
"Misa-san, what…what are you doing here?"
"Your secretary, Arata-san," Yusaku explained, "Misa Umeda-san has contradicted your alibi."
"What does she know? She's just a—"
"An administrative assistant?" Misa replied. He was stopped in his tracks by the woman's commanding voice. His hands trembled as Misa produced from her pouch a stack of money. "I may be willing to put up with many things, Kai-san, but bribing me to conceal a murder goes against every principle I hold dear."
"Murder? You have no idea what you're talking about. I wasn't—"
"On the day you asked me to finish the financial reports. As I recall, you were heading towards the staff office in the basement because you had an unexpected appointment with your son," she reveals.
Shiho looks at Shinichi, who smirks. Her thoughts went back to the dent in Shion's office. Now it all made sense.
"I knew it, you liar!" Takato said with a grin.
"Kagawa-san, I need you to remain silent. If you don't, we'll remove you," Megure-san commanded. Leaning back against the glass tank, the man became silent. Although the triumphant smile on his lips revealed the feeling of euphoria, he was experiencing.
"Conspiracy theories. An absent alibi means nothing," Arata huffed.
"True, lying about your alibi does not automatically render you a murderer; rather, it casts a very poor light on you," Yusaku concluded.
Snorting, Arata-san turned his gaze away.
"The question is, why would you want to falsify an alibi? Why go through all the trouble of erasing evidence?"
"Erase the evidence...what..." Rita whispered. "Arata-san, what's going on?"
"This," Yusaku said as he pulled a tape from his pocket. One that Shinichi had passed to his father earlier. "Are the CCTV footages of the food prep room for the past week. And what do you know, all footage has been deleted."
"Why?" Rita muttered as Takato's grin widens.
"Now, the only people with clearance to do such a thing are," Yusaku says. "And the guards on duty."
"What are you implying?" Rita interjected, looking at the egg-shaped man who was as white as a sheet. His skin was dripping with cold sweat, which he dabbed away furiously.
"You have only presented circumstantial evidence," Arata said with a growl.
"Depression," Yukiko said next. She took out the document from her pockets and displayed it in the room. Arata's eyes filled with rage as he raised his cane and was about to slam it into her. He was stopped first by Shion, then by the inspectors, who held him back as he cried out.
"I explained it to you, didn't I? That diagnosis was just a false report!"
"A report?" the professor asked.
"A psychological evaluation," Yusaku explained, "on Shion Kai, his son."
All eyes were now focused on the well-mannered man. Unable to deal with it, he stepped back, smiling nervously. The mask he wore cracked before their very eyes.
"Oh, that was my mistake. I...I just..."
"You were giving your things away," Takato whispered. "Shion, what is going on? Are you…" the man clearly in shock.
"Shion, why didn't you say anything?" Rita asked. Looking to the ground, Arata's son raised a hand to cover his mouth, quivering.
"It was just a practical joke!" Arata snapped, "My son is not suicidal. That bitch influenced him! Asking him to see a counselor and telling me to be kinder? What does she know? The boy I raised is not a weak fool!"
"She gave you a copy of the report, didn't she?" Yusaku confirmed, and Arata threw his cane against the floor. "She was a witch!"
"Tou-san," Shion whispered harshly, "Stop it."
His words were telling, and Arata stood in stunned silence for a moment.
"She isn't a witch," Shion continued, still looking to the ground, "She has a name."
The tension emerges, and it sinks like an elephant that Arata was not able to accept.
"No," Arata seethes. He couldn't calm down. "You're better than this. I told you not to listen to her, and yet!"
Shion leans against the tank as the mask drops completely. All that remained was a sorrow so deep. It pierced through.
"Hey, Shion, you can't be serious?" Takato muttered in shock. Concern replaced the anger in the man's eyes. When he reached out for his friend, Shion pulled away.
"It's time to stop this, Tou-san," he murmured lowly. Arata sunk to the ground, losing strength in his knees.
"What is going on?" Rita asked.
"Arata-san, you always protected your son," Yusaku said, kneeling beside the man and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Despite your harsh methods, it is clear that you care deeply about him."
"No, not like this," Arata moaned.
"You always believed your son was strong and flawless. You wanted him to have a brighter future than you did. However, your pride in his achievements had perhaps trapped him. You were certain you knew what was best for him. Yet when you received that letter, you couldn't comprehend it."
"Makoto Okano was an existence you could not tolerate. She was free-spirited, and your son was enamored with her," Yusaku continued.
"Shion?" Takato glances at Shion. "Wait, you and Makoto..."
"They were engaged," Yusaku revealed, taking out two rings. One was found in Shion's locker and the other—
"It was in the freezer, lodged among the fish feed," Shinichi told them. The news wasn't pretty.
"They are engraved with the marks SK and MO," Yusaku explained, "Surely you don't need me to tell you who these initials belong to."
"Shion," Rita whispered.
"There was a dent in Shion's office," Shiratori said in response to the new disclosure.
"Yes, Makoto Okano probably died in his office. To conceal the evidence and establish an alibi, Arata devised a scheme. It was intended to be a simple plan. Ensure that Makoto will never be discovered. By grinding up the body and feeding it to the fish, he could erase Makoto from existence, and it would be treated as a missing person case. First, Makoto was probably taken elsewhere for dismemberment, then brought back to the aquarium. Afterward, with access to the food prep room every night, he processes the cut-up parts in the machine. The ground-up flesh was then mixed with the fish feed and froze into chunks."
Takato and Rita gasped at Yusaku's deduction.
"Are you saying that we have been feeding…" Rita trailed off in disbelief.
"Yes, some of the staff may have unintentionally fed human meat to the sea creatures."
In an instant, Rita held a hand to her mouth as Takato turned away to gag.
"But why...place the ground-up body parts in the freezer for the central tank?" Shiratori interrupts, noticing the discrepancies. Shiho had wondered about it too. If his goal was to eliminate Makoto from existence, why would he put the body in a place where it would be easy to identify the victim?
Yusaku glanced at Arata, who flinched. "Because you wanted somebody else to take the blame if the body were to be discovered, right?"
"Nonsense," the man snapped.
"You're a piece of trash!" Takato shouted, and Shiratori had to hold the man back. Yusaku turned back to Arata-san, who was shaking slightly.
"Unfortunately for the culprit, the body was discovered. He didn't realize how hard it was to dismember a corpse. The method is physically demanding, and even experienced killers have expressed difficulty with it. Arata-san, however, was desperate, so he threw what he had already done into the meat grinder. In his ignorance, he didn't realize that the machine though powerful, could not get rid of bones."
The information presented was graphic. Callous and cruel—but the manner in which it was done provided another clue.
"You said it was physically demanding, but his...health," Megure pointed out. Arata's health was deteriorating. While he hides it under his fiery temper, the old man was hobbling and needed support from a cane. In addition to his obesity, he was unable to walk even a few steps without hyperventilating. It was hard to imagine the man dragging a body, let alone cutting it up.
"I never said he did it alone," Yusaku said. The implication is startling. After all, Arata-san wasn't the only one with a false alibi.
"Why!?" Rita screamed, rushing forward and slamming Shion into the wall. "Why did you do it!? What did she do? You loved her, didn't you!?"
"Wait, no, it wasn't him," Arata pleaded, groveling on the ground. "I did everything. I killed her...leave Shion out of this.
"Enough," Shion whispered. Slowly facing his father, he had a crooked smile. "Enough already."
"Shion, no," Arata murmured, approaching his son, who raised his hand to stop him.
"I'm tired," Shion confessed, burying his face in his hands. "Tou-san, not everything can be solved with money."
And the truth emerges from his lips. "It was me," he confessed. "We were arguing about our marriage. I was...fearful of proceeding and in my haste...I pushed her. She fell too quickly and too hard. I heard the crack but was unaware of its severity."
Rita fell back in shock at his confession. "I tried to revive her, but it was too late, and I panicked. I wanted to turn myself in, but Tou-san said…not to."
"You coward!" Rita cried, "You had every opportunity to stop him, but you didn't. You tried to destroy her, to erase her from existence. How could you do that to her?"
"No, no. Shion wasn't at fault. It was my fault. He still has a future. I killed her, not him," Arata was desperate. Attempting to stand, he grabs hold of Inspector Megure, who could only flinch in response. "I killed her. I knocked her on the back with my cane when I was arguing with her that day. I was the one who decided to dispose of her. Shion had nothing to do with it, please…"
"Tou-san," Shion whispered, "Please."
Dazed, Arata fell limp before the inspectors who caught him. Facing Shiratori-san, Shion gave him a weak smile. "The hair you recovered from the dent in the wall belongs to Makoto," he explained. "In retrospect, I probably should have reported it on the day of her death. Rita is right. I am a coward."
"I always have been," he continued breathlessly. Pointing to the rings, he turns to Yusaku.
"May I have those?"
"No, those are evidence," commented Inspector Megure, but Yukiko snatched them away. Her actions had the inspectors and Shinichi gawking. Putting it within Shion's grasp, the woman smiled bitterly as she passed it to him.
That man stood motionless for a moment. In shock, Takato grimaced at the sight while Rita wept. As he stared at the ground, Arata-san grew remorseful. Shion holds the rings tightly in his palms as if hugging an invisible entity, tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried softly.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry, Makoto."
Shion's confession allowed the inspectors to coerce Arata-san into revealing what had happened that day. It was a tragic accident that led to Makoto Okano's death. Arata-san found his son cradling the dead woman in his arms in that fateful office. Knowing that this would probably ruin his son's future, he chose a path of no return.
The night shift guard, Kinoshita-san, was promptly arrested after Arata-san revealed that he had enlisted his help. The guard suggested feeding the body through the machine to dispose of the body. With the bribe paid by Arata-san, the guard began the process of dismembering the body. The rest of Makoto's body were found at the security guard's home. This would explain the missing human parts that were not accounted for. As it turns out, Kinoshita-san had been cutting up the body at home and bringing it to work during his night shifts. There, Arata-san and him loaded the body parts into the grinder, which was then frozen. It was a gruesome burial. Makoto-san deserved better.
With the arrest taking place, Shinichi, Ran, Shiho, the professor, and his parents were escorted out of the room. The inspectors claimed they needed to keep them out of the reports. While walking through the main lobby, Shinichi was grateful for the consideration of their circumstances.
Given that a murder had taken place, it was too peaceful. There were still families and children about, laughing, ignorant of the horrors that lay behind. It would be the last time, Shinichi suspects. Sadly, the aquarium he had been visiting for more than 20 years might have to close its doors soon. There would be news coverage about the incident, and the reputation of the Kai family would be tarnished. Nobody would wish for such an end.
"Are you okay, Shinichi?" Shiho inquired.
"Yes," he answered, "Just a little tired, that's al—"
He stopped, glancing at an old man. He stood by a corner with a murderous intent so strong that it brought time to a startling halt.
"Shinichi? " Shiho asked again.
"I have to go to the washroom, so you guys can go on without me. I'll meet you by the reception," he states.
"Wait—"
Shinichi ran before she could stop him. He was sure of it. That old man who bumped into Ran before—the one who called her angel. He was the reason for Amuro-san's appearance. Making a beeline for the bathroom, he changed his course once he was certain no one was following him. Shinichi spots him again—and he couldn't help but feel like he was straying into a lion's den. Like a torrid dream, Shinichi pursued him.
This was a curse. Every fiber of his being was telling him it was a trap. However, he was unable to stop. Not now, not when the answers were just within his reach. He rushed into the staff rooms again, generator whirling, before stopping in front of a janitor's closet.
He opens the door silently, shifting uncomfortably as he enters. There was a strong smell of detergent and bleach. Brooms, along with an old mop and a bucket of yellow water, were hung along the walls. Metal stands carrying cleaning reagents lined the sides, and Shinichi whipped around, hands on his tranquilizer watch—ready to fire.
Her disguise had been ripped clean off. The blonde greeted Shinichi with menacing blue eyes. On her red lips was a smirk. Fresh terror erupted as she shoved him against the walls. The tip of the pistol was lodged in his forehead. She leans forward, barring teeth.
"We meet again…boy."
Shiho sees her sister as she watches him leave. The unnamed sense of dread settles, festering painfully—suffocating, like a noose tightening over. There was something in the air, a strange sensation of fear that she had ignored since entering the aquarium.
She told herself that the recent murder case was the cause of this trepidation. That it was due to the gruesome nature of the body's discovery. The situation was different this time. They were here. It should have been obvious from the very start.
And he had used the lamest excuse he could think of to keep them safe. Shiho wasn't going to let him face it alone, not when he was putting himself at risk. That idiot!
She was about to run after him when a hand grabbed her and held her back. Yusaku had stopped her. "This is not the place to act, Ai-chan," he stated. It was the first time he had spoken to her, and she was taken aback by his words.
"What you are about to do will not end well," he warned.
"But—"
"Everything has its moment."
"Yusaku-san, he is in danger."
"I suggest you take a break," he replied, ignoring her statements and pushing her back gently. Her protest was quashed when he eyed her pointedly.
"You are important to him," he declares. "And I intend to keep my promise."
"Wha—"
"Ai-chan~" Yukiko appeared, dragging her towards Ran and the professor. "Let's have some snacks, shall we, before dinner. I'm quite famished."
"Wait."
"Ai-chan, it's going to be alright," Yukiko said, the woman strangely calm about the danger.
Shiho glanced back at Yusaku, who stood at the spot. An expression of solemnity replaced his smile.
It felt like she had swallowed lead—a bag of maggots squirmed furiously in her gut. Although Shiho didn't know the name of this anxiety, she was aware of it.
Blonde hair, hateful green eyes, a body resting beneath a tree.
Vermouth.
A woman breathes down Shinichi's back as he stands fixed in the enclosed room. He raises his hands in surrender. There was a sense of menace in her eyes, and she wasn't playing around—not anymore. The obsessive resentment buried within was precisely how he remembered it to be. The showdown on the docks and the deal they had made in the forest a year ago seem to be coming apart.
"What are you planning?" Her face becomes a sea of rage, and she loses any semblance of calm. He felt the gun digging deeper into his skin. To keep his cool, he dug his fingers into his palms. Taking a deep breath, he answers the question.
"I don't know...you tell me," he smirked as she pressed further.
"I'm not playing your tricks," she whispered, her words echoing off the walls of the small dark room. The stale air teemed with explosive energy, the woman igniting the sparks. He took a sharp breath as she released the safety, fingers coiling around the trigger.
"Why are you using me?" she demanded. "Sharing how I let you go, revealing the location of our last encounter. Do you wish to kill her?"
Her? Shinichi was right—for whatever reason, Vermouth could not hurt Ran. Angel, she had mentioned. And—
Grabbing the gun with his free hand, he pressed it to his forehead and held it there. With a gleam in his eye, Shinichi dares her. "What are you waiting for?" confident in his theories. "Shoot me, Vermouth!"
True enough, she released the trigger, pulling the weapon away as she seethes at Shinichi. She was unable to.
"Your plans, your stupid operation with the FBI, would fail," she told him, tightening her grip on his watch, painfully so, "Did you expect us to back down just because a silly boy suddenly expressed an interest in us? Are you really expecting our demise if we were revealed?"
"It's worth a shot," Shinichi replied, and she laughed. Her cruel mocking tone returned. She glares at him intensely, her eyes brimming with a deadly glint. "The organization is vast, boy," she replied, "far bigger than you think. You're naive to think that what you're doing can take them down. Your efforts are laughable, barely scratching the surface of their goals."
Their? It was a Freudian slip, a mistake she had not yet realized. Vermouth was part of the organization—shouldn't it be—ours. As he suspected, Vermouth was—
"You aren't that special," she pointed lazily at him, interrupting his thoughts, "Kudou Shinichi."
"I respectfully disagree," he says. Pressing against him, the woman speaks with a veiled threat that sends chills down his spine.
"I know where you live, boy, and I know about Sherry. It would be easy—to destroy the illusion of peace, wouldn't it?"
"What are you up to, Vermouth?" he spat.
Smirking, she returns the gesture mockingly, "I don't know. You tell me."
He scowls, struggling underneath her. "Give me the drug and Sherry, boy," she continues, "If you know what's best for her."
He scoffed at her absurd idea. "Do you think that'll work?" he asked. "That's not who I am, Chris Vineyard, or should I digress."
Upon the mention of the name, the woman's bloodlust becomes thick. Her eyes were almost bloodshot, and her grip on the gun tightened, leaving her knuckles almost white. "Who are you exactly?" he asked.
"The girl and the drug," Vermouth threatens after a pause, cocking the pistol again; she raises it. Pulled the trigger; something zipped past his cheeks, and he felt a sharp pain. Blood ran down his cheek as a bullet lodged in the wall behind him. She then lifts him by his shirt collar, slamming him against the shelves. His feet dangled above ground, and he gasped, catching the glint in her eyes—beady, sharp, unflinching like a shark hunting for prey. "I will not hesitate anymore," she growls.
"A test, a drug trial," he forced out, remembering the conversation he had with Shiho a few days earlier. Information from Shiho's thumb drive, her parents' redacted reports, and Vermouth's hatred for a girl she caused immense pain too. His mother's closest friend, Vermouth, huddled in mystery, hiding in the darkness, a malevolent being with a deep hatred for the Miyano family.
"I think you should keep it to yourself," Vermouth seethes, slamming him again while he smirks. He had hit a nerve. "A creation, a prototype," he continued, and she pushed harder. Wincing slightly, he hissed slightly at the pressure pressing against his chest.
"Volunteers were forced, and a mother and her child were tested under due orders. They claimed it was a miracle drug, and they seemed trustworthy. Elena and Atsushi Miyano, experts in the field, had promised the trail would be safe. Since they have tested it many times over—on experimental mice and themselves."
A deadly silence descended upon the room. Those dark blue eyes bore into his own, sucking him into an abyss only he could see. He could almost sense her purpose. Shinichi was close, the answer just at the cusp of insanity.
"On that faithful day, the Miyano's fed a mother and a daughter the drug. And, it failed. They tried their best to revive the daughter, and then a mother—who..."
"Save?" Vermouth whispered, clutching his shirt so tightly that he could hardly breathe. "Don't make me laugh!" Vermouth sneered.
She released him as he fell to the ground, coughing. His vision blurred, and he struggled to stand, his eyes adjusting to the haze. "That is why you desire, above all else—revenge."
Faced with her momentary shock, he stared at her—an unstoppable demon created from desperation and fury. To get what she wants, Vermouth will do anything, Shinichi suspects. No matter the cost—murder wasn't too far off.
"If they knew what you are. It would be impossible for you to enact your goals."
"You're wrong," she said quietly. She placed a finger on his cheek and ran it down. He flinched.
"You have no idea what you're up against," she warned, her voice paralyzing him—malice like a snake wrapping around him tightly. The woman grips his chin incessantly, forcing him to gaze into her dark, penetrating eyes, hidden behind a veil of mystery. It swirled, and he became entangled in a madness called Vermouth.
"Sherry will die," she promised. "That demon spawn shouldn't exist. You're protecting a monster."
"No," Shinichi said, grasping her arm and trying to pull it away. But she was firm, and her hold hurt. Shinichi could feel his chest constricting. "No, Vermouth," he insisted. "The girl was forced."
"Do you really believe that?" she asked, her voice harsh, and he recoiled as she squeezed.
"You tortured her!" he yelled, "How are you any different?"
With her head thrown back, she laughs without humor. It was empty, and as she faced him, a bitterness laced her words.
"We were guinea pigs," she whispered, "a cog in a hole. We weren't informed, weren't briefed about what would come. And they stood there, staring, observing, pretending to care," she spat. "Sherry is...the same. And if you keep going, she'll lead you to your destruction."
"I don't care," he seethes, struggling under her clutches, "your words mean nothing."
The light in her eyes fades, becoming black. There were no emotions, only a stoic mask hiding a malignant presence. It was cold, colder than ice, and Shinichi could feel his hair standing as she approached him.
"He is ubiquitous. It's a futile attempt, Kudou Shinichi."
"Sharon!"
The woman stood motionless. Her shoulders slumped, and she stared at the ground. Her mouth curved into a wry smile. For a moment, he sees a woman overcome with regret, with sorrow that has lasted through the years. Then it was buried...as chaos took over.
She twisted his watch to face him. Before Shinichi had time to react, she had shot it. He slumps to the ground for the second time, his vision fading as the woman addresses him.
She was speaking—he could not hear it. Her words were barely audible, muffled whispers, and within it all—a single phrase. "Ver...mouth..." Shinichi forced, but couldn't stay awake, the darkness consuming him as he fell to the floor.
"Good luck, silver bullet."
"I wonder if there really is a god?" she spoke under the rain, the woman emerging from beneath the umbrella. "If there's such an existence as God, shouldn't all hard-working people be happy?"
With a rueful smile, she greets them, forbidding and sad all at once.
"That's right. No angel has smiled upon me. Not even once."
Memories of his time in New York replayed in his mind. Her vague statement was a message to the unknown. There is a darkness that grows within, telling the story of a woman lost within time, unable to face the future. An unstoppable force, a woman of a thousand names. Blonde-haired woman with sad blue eyes—haunting him. What happened? Disoriented, Shinichi shifted to gain his bearings as he awoke with a groan. Is that a broom? Wait!
Gasping, he slammed his hand against the floor and forced himself up. Dizziness swept over him, and he winced, colliding with the metallic shelf. As he supported himself, his vision blurred, and he rushed out of the janitor's closet. Pipes rumbled, and he remembered the incident from before.
With an eye on his watch, he hurried down the corridor and burst through the staff doors, scaring a few patrons. "Shit!" he exclaimed. It's been an hour, he's been sleeping for an hour, and now she's gone.
In a panic, he whirled around. He needed to find them. Vermouth was probably wearing a disguise—what if...
No! Not again!
Running through the crowd, Shinichi pushed his way through. The aquariums and bright lights make for a confusing and disorienting experience. His frantic search ended with him tripping, and he yelped. Arms caught him, wrapped tight around his wrist. He whipped around to see his father's concerned expression. Yusaku Kudou adjusted his spectacles, still dressed in the ridiculous cape of his baron character.
"Tou-chan, where is—"
"They're safe. I stopped the girl from chasing after you if that's what you're asking," the man replied.
He sighed in relief, flinching when his father reached for his cheek, trailing a finger across the bloody wound.
"You looked like you'd seen a ghost," he said. His father was perceptive, and Shinichi slumped to the floor, almost falling. The meeting with Vermouth had left him feeling drained and weak.
He was caught by his father, who supported his weight. "What happened?" Yusaku asked, and Shinichi remained silent, unable to respond. There was so much to take in. The operation. Vermouth. The organization. His confirmation.
"I…" he trailed off.
"Shinichi," Yusaku began, his father's blue eyes meeting his own. Clear and precise, he knows. "You've seen a ghost."
Shinichi swallowed as his father knelt in front of him. "I assume what transpired between you two has something to do with..."
"Rum," he whispered.
Yusaku slowly absorbs this information and squeezes Shinichi's shoulders. Tension dissipated, his father's weight relaxing the dread crushing him.
"We're your parents, Shinichi," he said. "Do not forget this."
As Yusaku messed with his hair for a little while, he groaned, annoyed but comforted by his father's antics. Vermouth's words resonated in his ears, and his worry for the auburn-haired scientist grew.
"Tou-chan," he grabs ahold of the man, "I need your help."
Slowly, the words and a plan form. When it was all done, his father contemplated thoughtfully, taking it all in. "You understand the implications of this," he replied.
"Yes," Shinichi confirmed, and Yusaku removed his cape regarding the challenge.
"Can you manage that?" Shinichi asked.
"Yes," Yusaku smirked, "I guess it's back to America then."
Shinichi nodded and gasped when his father hugs him—uncharacteristically. "Shinichi," he said, "Survive, son."
"Of course," Shinichi muttered. It doesn't matter. Vermouth threats were something he had dealt with before. He had help now—and vital information. Shinichi would not let anything happen to her—to Shiho.
"That is the plan."
Episodes used:
Episode 286, 288 (Vermouth arc :D)
I hope you've enjoyed the chapter this week. The main showdown would happen next chapter, I hope I don't butcher it. XD Again, I thank you all for the reviews and feedback. See you again next chapter :D
