"Coffee?"

I look up from the newspaper I'm reading to see my partner presenting me with a mug. The scent fills my nose and I can already imagine myself drooling.

We've been up all night since we were handed the files from that police woman trying to find something, anything that might connect the various cases.

So far? Nothing.

Okay, that isn't entirely true. But the thing that does connect all of the cases makes absolutely no sense.

Narukami places the mug down in front of me and takes a seat at the other end of the table. He gives a once over to the various papers and photos while drinking from.

I grab the mug offered to me and give it a taste test.

Goddamnit, it's delicious. Some of the best coffee I've ever had. What gave Narukami the right to make such a damn fine cup of joe?

Narukami sees my displeasure and asks, "Not good?"

"It's fine." An understatement, but he doesn't need to know that. He's got a big enough ego as it is. I run my hand through my hair and sigh. What are we even still doing here?

"Let's go over this again," Narukami said.

He didn't sound too happy about it either. That almost brings a smile to my face. It really is the little things in life, y'know?

"What do we know about our victims?"

I lean back in my chair and groan.

"Adachi," Narukami says, his voice cold and stern. "This case isn't going to solve itself."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I adjust myself and grab one of the files. "First vic is a guy named Richard Geurtz. Mid-40s, successful donut shop in Manhattan, married with two kids. Found face down in an alley about two months back after being missing for two days. Cops here didn't even know he was a victim of anything at first."

"What was the theory at the time?" Narukami strokes his chin in thought.

I shrug. "There really wasn't one? I mean, I'm sure the police probably thought the guy went on a bender and OD'd in the alley. Happens enough in the city."

"Then the autopsy report came in."

"But then the autopsy report came in," I echo. "No drugs, no cause of death. They checked to see if it was a brain aneurysm or something, but nope. Guy just died."

Narukami stood up and began pacing around the dining room.

The apartment the Kirijo Group got for us during our stay in New York wasn't anything special. The dining room's the first thing you see when you walk in, with a closet to the immediate left. There's another, smaller closet further down to the right, with a small kitchen to the left.

Past that is the living room, which connects to the first bedroom and a hallway. Down the hallway is the second bedroom and bathroom. It isn't much, but it's better than my last studio apartment in Inaba.

The place was fully furnished when we first got here, with a couch, a chair, and even a nice size TV. Right now, we're seated at the table in the dining room, the only place that's big enough for us to pour over notes and the like.

"His wife was also convinced he wouldn't just disappear like that." Narukami shakes his head and beckons me to continue. "The next victim?"

"Eduardo Ramirez. Late twenties, no wife, no kids, kind of a loser." Reminds me of someone, but I can't quite pinpoint who. "Kinda drifted between jobs for the past few years. He was in between jobs at the time."

"And?"

"And he winds up dead, just like Mr. Guertz and Ms. Chambers. No drugs, no indication of death. We can't confirm if he disappeared for a few days before, but based on the pattern, he probably did."

I then begin listing off the rest of the deceased on my fingers. "Erika Cooper, age 58. Daniel Hausen, age 22. Jessica VanOverbeck, age 31. Stella Monroe, age 45. And now our dearly departed Kimberly Chambers, age 23. All dead, no connections other than means of death.."

Narukami stops and snaps his finger a couple times. "Seven people, all died the exact same way within two months of each other. And there weren't any clues from the last few either?"

"Nothing that Harris put in here, at any rate." I let my head fall to the table. Man, I'm exhausted. I just want to sleep, but I know Narukami isn't going to let me unless we figure something out. "Seriously, it's honestly impressive how incompentent all these people are."

"We haven't figured anything out either," Narukami helpfully reminds me. He makes his way back to the table. "What could it be…"

As I'm trying to sift through the sleep-deprived induced haze, a thought crosses my mind. Bodies are turning up without a clear means of death. They disappear a few days before. There's no witnesses for how the bodies got there either. Just poof! Like a rabbit out of a hat.

"Heh." I can't help but giggle a little bit. "Of all the bullshit that could've happened."

"What's that?"

"It's so obvious, I don't know how we didn't see it earlier. Looks like someone's fucking around with that other world again."

Narukami freezes. His face goes white, and his eyes become hollow. It's like he's seen a ghost or something. It brings a smile to my face.

He quickly picks up several of the case files and scans through each of them with the speed and desperation that only comes from wanting to deny something so bad that is so true.

Narukami clicks his tongue. "Well. That's not great."

"I think it's pretty funny," I offer. "I mean we knew it had to be something to do with Shadows, yeah? I've never heard of anywhere else that has Shadows."

"There are a few ways that the world of Shadows and the real world intersect," Narukami explains. He grimaces and grits his teeth. "I had just hoped the TV World was gone."

"Can't always get what you want," I mutter. I stretch my back over the chair and feel a nice and satisfying pop. "Ahhh, that hits the spot."

"Can't you take this seriously?" Narukami snaps.

"Hey, I'm as serious as a heart attack!" I say, raising my hands in surrender. "And you know what this serious guy needs after a long night of investigation? A solid eight hours of sleep."

Right before Narukami tries to argue, his phone rings. He grimaces, clearly frustrated, but picks it up regardless. "Narukami."

I can't pick up everything the other person is saying, but it's a woman's voice, for sure. If I had to place it, I'd say it was Lieutenant Harris on the other end.

Narukami's eyes go wide and he nods. "You're sure we can question her?"

Aw, man. That doesn't sound good.

"Yes, we'll be there as soon as we can. Thank you, Lieutenant." He hangs up and then focuses back on me. "That was Harris. She said she finally brought one of Chambers' friends in for questioning. We're heading out now."

"Pass."

Narukami actually flinches back. "What do you mean 'pass'?"

I shrug and head back to my room. "I've been awake for almost twenty-four full hours. I need sleep. Ain't no good questioning getting done on a lack of sleep."

"Adachi, we have a responsibility-" Narukami tries to argue, but I cut him off.

"Look, if it gets me a few hours of shut eye without you bitching and moaning, I'll go around and ask questions. See if Guertz's woman knows anything. Find if any of those other dead losers have friends I can talk to. But I'm going to lie down and sleep first. Now go away."

Narukami just stares at me for a second, his gaze hard. For a little bit I think he's going to argue, but instead he just rolls his eyes and grabs his jacket.

After he's left the apartment, I flop back down in the chair to finish my coffee. Finally some goddamn peace and quiet.

I sip my coffee absentmindedly as my eyes continue to wander over the documents. I won't lie, I'm not too happy that it's Shadow business either, no matter how much I expected it to be. I was hoping to relax for a few days in the Big Apple, enjoy my freedom for all it's worth, but that sort of thing just isn't in the cards for me, I guess.

Still, it's weird that it seems to be the exact same thing going on. What are the odds that a killer would use the other world twice? I mean, it's a useful tool, but not a common one. I didn't even know it existed outside of Inaba.

Not to mention there weren't any rumors about something like the midnight channel floating around. Even in a big city, that sort of thing would travel fast.

I reach over and pick up the file on Geurtz. His donut shop is about a twenty minute walk from here, so it wouldn't be an issue at all to make it. My stomach is rumbling, so I could stand to go out and grab a bite to eat.

But then I would probably have to ask questions and I just want to sleep. Is that wrong? Did the world decide that sleep was morally reprehensible?

Oh, goddamnit. Fine.

I chug down the rest of the coffee, slam the mug on the table and get to my feet.

I swear to God, I better get some fucking sleep after this.