Author's note: So it's me...again...

This has been an incredibly difficult chapter to write. There're parts in this chapter, especially in the begining, that are quite a challenge to get right. I can't say I've done a particularly good job of it...

Anyways, sorry for keeping you guys waiting for so long. Bit of a short chapter, I hope you'll bear with me.

Warning: The first half of this chapter might be triggering to some.

He left some time during the night.

Shiho could feel the rustling of the sheets and the weight of his arm leaving her body as he got out of the bed. Her mind had cleared a while ago, but she didn't dare move or do anything to indicate that she was awake, lest he wanted to do anything else.

He got dressed in the dark, silent, and quick. Then, just when she thought that he was gone, his hand returned to rest on her hip and then trailed down the length of her body. It took everything in her to keep herself from shuddering and Shiho desperately prayed that he was done with her for the night, because she didn't know if she could handle another episode.

It was already hard enough when alcohol was burning through her blood, but now that she was sober…

After what seemed like an eternity, he retracted his hand and left.

Shiho waited, and waited, and waited. And finally, she let out a breath that she had been holding in all these times.

Then, throwing off the blanket that reeked of him, she curled up into a ball and cried.

The hardest part was saying it.

Shiho knew that there was a word to describe what had happened in the picture, and what had happened to her, but for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud.

Instead, she started with: "I didn't know that this picture was taken."

Although, when she thought about it, she wasn't really surprised. It was exactly like Gin to record their…encounters, for a lack of a better word. She had just never thought that it would come to this, especially now that he was (supposedly) dead, and thus had never prepared herself for it.

The picture was kept securely at her house, but Shiho could envision it just as clearly. She had lived through it, after all.

"I wasn't aware that…that he…" she broke off, unable to continue.

Just the thought of it made her sick. Somewhere out there was the evidence of her shame, God knew how many of them, just waiting to be released to the world.

"I figured as much," Shuuichi said quietly. "Shiho-san, if you don't want to-"

"No, I've made up my mind. For years I've kept this inside me. I can't…not anymore," she whispered, rubbing her eyes. "It's just hard. I don't know where to start."

"It's okay. You can take your time."

They lapsed into silence. Now that the memories had resurfaced, there was no shutting them out any longer. So Shiho tried her best to arrange them into sensible thoughts, to detach from her feelings and focus only on the facts. She had found that that usually worked for her in emotional situations, so she prayed that this time, it would work, too.

"It was around the time I came back from the States. I was 14…no, 15 then. He paid close attention to me before, but not…not in the same way," Shiho swallowed, recalling the day that he picked her up from the airport. It was rare for Gin to make a personal trip like that.

"He said that I…looked like my mother," Shiho murmured, looking down. How many times he had said those words to her, she wondered. She had lost count once he started calling her Elena in moments when he was feeling particularly ecstatic.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Shuuichi murmured in a soothing voice, wrapping his hands around hers. She hadn't realized until then that her fingers had started shaking uncontrollably. "It's okay."

"It's not…it's not!" Shiho choked out, tears rolling down her cheeks. Now that she had started, she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out, "I was so afraid…I didn't fight him. I…I let him…He said if I tri-tried to…he'd…he'd hurt nee-chan. So I…I said y-y-yes."

Shuuichi's hangs tightened around hers. The murderous look on his face was enough to scare anyone and it was only the realization that that look was not directed at her that stopped Shiho from scrambling away. In a way, it was comforting - the last thing she had wanted was him looking at her in pity.

Or worse, disgust.

Shiho breathed in and took a few minutes to calm herself down. When she trusted herself to speak without stuttering over every word, she continued on with the story. She told him of how Gin came for her at her apartment, how he always made sure that she would consume enough alcohol that she would no longer see straight, how he would make her beg for it. She recalled the countless nights when she would spend hours in the bath, scrubbing her skin until it was red and raw just so she would no longer feel his hands on her.

Shiho thought that the more she said, the more she would get lost in images of the past that were threatening to consume her. Yet, somehow, she managed to stay afloat. Perhaps it was because of his presence, of his hands wrapped so tightly around her. She could feel the warmth that he radiated, anchoring her to the present where she was safe and protected.

"And you know what the worst thing was? My mother's name…even now I couldn't…I couldn't say it," she let out a bitter laugh.

"When I hear it, all I could think…not her…but him. He made me afraid of my mother's name!" she was screaming by the end of the sentence, tears flowing freely down her face. She could feel her nose getting blocked and reached for a tissue to blow the snot away. Shiho couldn't recall the last time she cried like this - unrestrained, without the smallest inhibition of what would happen if she allowed herself to bare her feelings like this.

And somehow…it felt good. It was painful still, but she could feel the burden that had been weighing on her heart ebb away with every tear that spilled out. She had no idea that telling someone about this would be so cathartic.

Rough thumb brushed against her cheek. Her eyes shot up, surprised. Shiho knew he was just wiping away her tears, but the caress in his touch was unmistakable.

"You are such a strong person, Shiho-san."

She shook her head. "I don't feel strong. I'm still so…afraid."

"Being strong is not about being unafraid," he said, the steady rumble of his voice so comforting and earnest that she let herself accept that what he was saying was true. "You've survived something that would have broken even the strongest of us. You've survived it, and now you're living on. You're going to school, you're hanging out with your friends, you're getting better. I don't think someone who is not strong would be able to do all of that, having gone through what you did."

"You think I'm getting better?"

"I know you are," he replied, adopting the tone that people would take when they talk about how the sun rose in the East and the sky was blue.

And she believed him, because she desperately wanted to.

It had taken Shuuichi a week of coaxing before Shiho finally agreed to ask Kudo and Bourbon for help. She had been reluctant (she still was), not wanting either of them to know about this. With Bourbon, it was plainly because she didn't trust him and the last thing she wanted was to show him a piece of her past that no one else (save for Shuuichi) had known. Even if she was only planning on giving him the picture and explained how she had found it, she still wasn't happy about the situation.

With Kudo, it had been different. He was her best friend and she would be lying if she wasn't the least bit apprehensive of how he would react when he found out about this. Shiho knew that she would have to tell Kudo the whole truth - he deserved no less than that from her.

In a way, it was even more difficult than letting Bourbon knew. She didn't care what Bourbon thought of her, but with Kudo, she cared too much.

He hadn't said a word throughout her entire story, and had remained silent even after she had stopped talking, stone-faced. His lack of a reaction had caused panic rising in the pit of her stomach, until, finally, he spoke, voice laced with shame: "I…I have no idea."

"I never told anyone. Not even my sister," she replied quietly. "Not until recently."

"Why didn't you-" he started, then backtracked. "No, never mind. It's not my place to demand that you told me. It's your story and…it's not easy. Not at all. But I just wish…I just wish…" he stammered and something in his eyes seemed to break apart then. "You were all alone."

It wasn't what she had expected. She thought that Kudo would have wanted to know why she kept this from everyone, including him, why she never disclosed that particular part of her relationship with Gin. Knowing him, he would have wanted to know every detail.

But Shiho didn't expect to hear that the source of his shame was the fact that she had to deal with this by herself. She knew that he felt a sense of responsibility towards her, much in the same way that she did him. They had learned to rely on one another and look out for each other - their common circumstance bringing them closer together.

"You're right, it wasn't easy. Even now, I can't really speak about it without…," she swallowed thickly. "I just…I didn't want to talk about it and I thought it was behind me, you know? With Gin dead and everything. But I guess not."

He nodded. "I understand."

"But I can't keep living like this. Always wondering. Always afraid. I have to get to the bottom of this," she said, steel in her voice.

Shiho was done running away and the first step to facing her demons was to "find out the sick fuck who was behind this, be it Gin or someone else", to quote Shuuichi.

"There was a traffic camera opposite of the entrance of the cemetery and we have the feeds on the day that you went there," Bourbon explained, gesturing towards the computer screen. "I think we've found the person who has dropped the picture. Watch this."

On screen, a short, stocky man was shown walking from the nearby bus stop towards the cemetery, where he fished out a piece of paper from his pocket and dropped it to the ground. He looked around quickly before rounding the corner and disappeared. Five minutes later, the camera showed her and Shuuichi exiting the cemetery and picked up the fallen picture.

"That's pretty much it," Bourbon said.

"We're running facial recognition right now," Takako informed them. "We should have the result within a few minutes."

"Does he look familiar to you?" Kudo asked, turning towards Shiho.

"I've never seen him before," she replied, shaking her head. There was something about the scene that bugged her, though. "I don't think he's a member of the BO. At least, not an important one. He's too careless. He didn't even attempt to cover his face, which meant that he either didn't care that we would ID him, or he didn't know."

"So in other words, he's acting on someone else order," Shuuichi concluded.

"Seems like that. Barely anyone knew about…about…" Shiho stumbled, feeling the words forming a lump in her throat. She swallowed and willed herself to regain her composure. "Well, it has to be someone highly ranked and close to Gin to be able to get their hands on that picture."

"Which means we haven't arrested all the people that need to be arrested," Bourbon commented darkly.

The implication of his words hung heavily in the air and for a moment, no one said anything. The silence between them was broken only by a ping coming from the computer.

"I've got it!" Takako declared. "His name is Isao Hiroshi. 32. Unemployed. Currently residing in Suginami."

"Let's go there then. We need to talk to him, find out everything he knows," Kudo said, already getting up and reaching for his jacket.

"Wait!" Takako called, and as every pair of eyes in the room turned towards her, Shiho knew that she wouldn't like what Takako was about to say. "It's useless trying to talk to him."

"Why?" Bourbon demanded.

Takako swallowed. "Because he has been dead for two weeks."

Tbc.