Chapter 11

"Wait a moment," a mild panic entered Momoki's voice as Narihisago edged up to his feet, "should you be doing that?"

He rubbed his forehead trying in vain to massage away the throbbing headache. Catching his weight on the back of a chair, he was steady enough if he didn't push it. "I got it." Narihisago glanced down to catch the deep maroon stain marring the black wool of Momoki's sleeve. He hung his head and murmured, "Sorry about that."

Momoki covered it with his hand. "Don't mention it. It's not like you could do anything about it."

He hoped that Momoki didn't catch him flinching at this words. How utterly true. Unable to do anything … the story of his life of late. Even though it rested on the back of the chair, his hand tightened into a fist. Damn it, everything was compounding. Kiki's midnight messing with his memories, the fouled dive with Fukuda, the infiltration pushing him to break regulations which vaulted his stress level through the roof as he struggled against years of conditioning, pushing Hirai to his death … he still heard the echo of the gun. And that … that sound still set his heart racing, his own finger twitching.

The Challenger.

He clenched his eyes tight, his breathing hitched as he leaned heavier on the chair.

They were talking … talking about something, but he couldn't follow the conversation. It took everything he had just to stand there … just to exist.

"Hey Narihisago? You're not looking well."

"That's cause I'm not."

"I told you," Momoki lectured, "you probably shouldn't have gotten up."

"Wouldn't matter." His fingers clawed into the fabric of the chair that prevented him from falling over. "It doesn't make a damn bit of difference. This is just the shit I have to deal with … each … and every time. But nobody ever sees it. Guess Kiki's meddling brought it on quicker. Usually I've been pitched into solitary by the time this wave comes … out of sight, out of mind, right?" A tense giggle escaped him. "Fitting since I'm out of my own Goddamned mind. Toss Narihisago in solitary so no one has to deal with his crazy ass—a blessing for everyone else."

"That's not it." He stepped closer, trying to keep his voice even, but a detectable panic crept into it.

"What good has it ever done?" Narihisago glared over his shoulder. "Do I ever come out of it for the better? Be honest … it's not for me that you do it. Not to teach me a lesson that this psychosis will never let me learn … trust me, if I could stop—I would."

Standing there, Momoki joined the others locked in stunned silence.

"None of it matters in the long run. Chase after chase, dive after dive, it's the same over and over again." He ran a hand through his hair, fingers catching on the snarls. "Has it even occurred to you? Every damn convict that has been locked down in Kura's cells to this point is because of me. Every single one of them taken in because of a dive I performed. Hundreds of dives into fucked up psyches. This isn't bragging … this is just my chance to share with you all the crap that runs rampant through my deranged mind when I'm not too subdued to voice it!"

"Narihisago," holding up a hand, Momoki barely managed to force his voice to level, "we will talk about this later."

"Later? There will never be a later." He took a few strained breaths,trying to rein it in, but it was fruitless. The dam had broken. "You mean it will be like before when you put me away until you need me, and then it's business as usual! On to the next case, the well dive. You never let me out just to talk! I'm a tool to you. Besides, I won't have the will to say this shit later. It's now or never! And trust me, I know about lost chances." He pointed at Momoki, huffing each breath. Out of the corner of his eyes he noted security didn't advance, they backed away from him. Things might have been different if they'd been armed … another chance he'd never have again. "The things, all the time I will never get back. I am where I am because of lost opportunities. Obsessed with work, I should have been there for them. Maybe I would have intercepted him, my presence could have warded off the Challenger … Muku wouldn't have been taken, Ayako would still be alive. I should have done more to be with my family!"

Momoki waved his hands. "It wasn't all work. You're not remembering it right. You even said those memories aren't accurate. Don't blame yourself for Muku's murder. You spent so much time with them, even while working as a detective. I was jealous of you for having that to go home to."

He scoffed, turning away. "'Had' being the operative word. That's … they've been ripped from me. What do you think fuels my rage, Momoki? It's the void left behind. The reason for my own MO—it's the most painful thing in this world that I have ever known." If someone had hit him in chest with a wrecking ball he was convinced it wouldn't hurt half as much. "When … Ayako left me … the anguish that remained was worse than death, the lure to join her. Nothing is more painful. When her resolve failed her I hadn't seen it … God, I should have been there for her."

Lowering his eyes Momoki murmured, "I should have been there for you in the days that followed. Maybe I could have stopped you."

"I wish you had … things might have turned out differently." For a long moment he stared down at his guilty hands, the finger twitching as if pulling the trigger repeatedly. The action felt so empty now. "But somehow I doubt it. Not after what he did. The one thing that would fix all this isn't possible in this world. I need my family … I need Ayako and Muku back. But that … outside of a two year well within a well dive which only twisted the knife of what I've been denied, that can never happen. Memories … tainted memories are all that remain of them. I've poisoned everything. There is no turning back, all that remains is the misery of being alone. And standing here … outside of the handful of rooms I have seen in the last year …" his gaze wandered around the room at a loss for a point to fix on, no … unable to rest overlong on any one thing, " … I shouldn't be out here." He leaned forward, resting his head against his folded arms on the back of the chair. "All of this feels so wrong."

"Narihisago, if you need a break from the dives … "

A short laugh punched from his throat. "Think about what you're saying. What would that leave me? Stewing in a tiny cell with no purpose. That's all I live for now. The job. That's all I have. Take that away and I might as well not exist … you can't let me out of confinement … that's obvious now. I can't function. Ignoring the serious issue of my drive to kill other killers, there's all the things the dives have left impressions over. Sakaido may forget, I envy that lucky bastard, because I remember each and every damn one and all the twisted dark depths he's wandered through. Before it never occurred to me. But now? Oh yeah … a quick climb through this building and I can tell you, normal everyday shit isn't normal for me anymore."

"You are a normal human being."

"Bullshit." He muttered just above his breath. "Stop patronizing me. I haven't been normal since the day my daughter was pulverized to death. The moment I lost it … the moment I crossed the line everyone abandoned me. Matsuoka told me the chief had my name banished from even being mentioned, and struck from all my work as though I never existed. My parents never even inquired about my whereabouts, did they."

Momoki no longer faced him.

"I knew as much. That right there is rather telling."

"We'll find a way to fix you."

"Oh please, you make it sound like I'm a computer with a malfunctioning processor."

Taking a deep breath, Momoki looked at him at a complete and utter loss. "What do you want?"

Silence stretched before he shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know." It was a moment before he lifted a hand slightly in an aborted gesture, his voice hardly audible, "I want to have a choice, I want to be able to decide not to do it … but … but … " his shoulders fell. Over the last three years holding onto to optimistic delusions had lead him to nothing but disappointment.

"You're truly miserable, aren't you."

He couldn't help it, his head lowering was the only answer he could give.

"Earlier," he ventured with a tremble to his voice, "you mentioned ending it all. Were you serious?"

"I'm constantly at war within myself every moment of every day." Narihisago eyed him sideways before lowering his gaze to the floor. "You don't want to know the answer to that question."

"No. You can't be serious."

Fukuda cleared his throat. "You know, you haven't tried everything."

In tandem Momoki and Narihisago shouted, "Shut up, Fukuda!"

Instantly he recoiled, the floor claiming his gaze in an ironclad lock. The rest if the Wellside crew stared from one to the other.

Momoki slashed the air with his hand toward Fukuda. "How could you ev—"

"No wait … that was wrong." Narihisago stepped in front of Momoki, facing Fukuda, shock in his eyes. "Shit, the nerve … talk about eating my own words. Of everyone I've got to be the one who knows how much no one listening abysmally sucks. I mean, especially when everyone thinks you're screwed up and crazy … which turns out to be true anyway. Fact remains, it's not like you and I have a whole lotta options. Most of the guards don't give a shit, they got things to do. And these guys? The id wells are their task … " He hung his head and shook it. "I'm sorry, I should have listened to you. And instead I've been nothing but a jackass to you."

Cautiously, Fukuda met his gaze. "I wasn't talking about drilling a hole. I know, you told me earlier that was out. But seriously, listen to yourself, man. Have you worked through anything at all?"

That gaze grew uncomfortable, only because he had asked the question that Narihisago didn't want to answer. The bald faced truth.

Fukuda pointed in triplicate, excitement in his half open eyes that didn't quite reach his voice. "See? That's it. Anyone would be a wreck carrying that kinda shit for—what's it been, like three years? Haha, there's your problem, oh brilliant detective. You gotta open up."

"Uhhh … " He took a step back, his pulse beginning to throb. "Not a great idea. Nobody wants to hear this shit."

"Ehhh, you never know. Someone might." He shrugged offering a crooked smile. "Either way, you need therapy and could probably use a friend, brother."

Narihisago tightened his fist. "Don't call me that."

"I've noticed you have a serious aversion to that word. What's up with that?"

"Because … " The glance toward Momoki's tense face was swift. He hoped no one caught it before he forced his eyes back to his trembling fist. "I don't have a brother."

That forced lie cut as deep as a physical wound. From the corner of his eye he could see Momoki's staggered step backward, his breath paused in a tense throat. Don't say it … don't shame yourself, Momoki. Don't compromise yourself for a wasted life like mine. You are still a detective, you are still respectable. Keep it that way … brother.

Shrugging it off, Fukuda stepped around the chair. "You got it. Nix on the b-word. But that leads to another question."

"Okay, do I want to know?"

Fukuda held out a hand, and quirked an eyebrow. "You'll … you'll be my friend?"

Narihisago forced down a pained expression. "Don't push it … Gah!"

Grabbing him in a bear hug, Fukuda crowed, "I knew you weren't that much of a cold-hearted bastard! Everyone needs a friend!"

Narihisago growled, "Fukuda! If you don't let me go right now I'm knocking you back into a coma."

Gingerly Fukuda set him down and took a step back, looking giddy … well, for him.

"Dial it back a bit. What are you, like five years old?"

He looked at his shoe scrapping across the floor.

The realization struck Narihisago. Has he never actually had a friend before?

The walkie talkie crackled. "Uhhh … hello? Guys, can you hear me?" It was Hagashi nervously calling over the line. "Hope this is still on the same frequency."

Shiratake held theirs up and pressed the button. "We're here. What's going on?"

"Phew! Good to hear you guys!"

Everyone stared at Shiratake waiting for the update. When nothing more came, at last he hit the button, "Did you find the bomb?"

"Oh yeah, Soma froze that thing solid through some trick he saw in a movie."

Wakashika threw his hands in the air. "See? See! Sometimes that stuff works! Hahaha!"

Leaning forward Momoki gestured for Shiratake to open the channel again. "Did you find the chief? Is he alright?"

A different voice came over the line. "They sure did. Other than a bit of bruising, I'm ok. What's Kura's status?"

"Glad to hear your voice, Kokufu." Momoki gave a relieved smile. But his gaze darted to Narihisago as he heaved a sigh. "Hirai has been taken care of. Much of the staff is still locked up, so we need to get them out. As for us, we're more or less ok. I … I have a lot of explaining to do. And you'll probably need to hire a serious cleaning crew for your office."

"Sorry." Narihisago muttered.

"Wait … you're in my office? Did I just hear Narihisago … in my office?"

Momoki cleared his throat. "I said I had a lot of explaining to do. But that can wait til we get the building cleared."

Soma's voice broke over, "By the way, we found the guy who seized our weapons. Oh, and I got a pair of bolt cutters."

Kokufu continued, "First we need to get tech out so they can deal with EMP damage, fix communications. At least it seems like the Mizuhanome is shielded. Would have been bad to have a repeat of that disaster."

"Agreed. See you soon, Kokufu." Momoki turned to the inmates. "I promise, there will be further discussion."

"About what?" Narihisago shrugged in return. "There's little point to engage in fruitless deliberations."

"What about your life, Narihisago?"

He just stood there staring with dull eyes.

Momoki declared, "You're clearly miserable."

"So, what? I'm a convicted felon. This is the rest of my life. To be controlled because I am incapable of controlling myself. Here is your proof." He held up his wrists offering them for security to cuff him.

Itoh waved a guard forward. A guard, Narihisago realized with a chill, who would only prove his point all too clearly. There was an unpleasant history with Yamane. One that he would never let be forgotten.

Yamane thrust a finger toward the floor. "I don't think so. Not in front." Harshly he declared, "On your knees, scumbag! Now!"

For a long moment, Narihisago stared him in the eyes. Why now? Why this damn level of shame in front of everyone? When the pointed gesture was repeated, he swallowed his already tattered pride and started to slowly lower himself down, as always trying to keep his motions non-threatening to avoid further force.

It wasn't fast enough. Yamane seized the back of his neck and shoved him down, grabbing one of his wrists and wrenching it toward the small of his back despite the gasps from the Wellside team.

Crap! Someone help me!

But no one said anything to interrupt this degradation. No one spoke as Yamane roughly clamped the cuffs onto his wrists behind his back. "I'll never let you forget what you did." His fingernails dug into Narihisago's bare skin earning the guard a prized hiss.

Fukuda took a step forward. "Hey man! In case you forgot, he just saved all our skins!"

"I wonder if he remembers when he gave me this?"

Narihisago recalled all too well when in a fit of uncontrollable rage he'd used a pair of cuffs as a makeshift set of brass knuckles and struck him across the bridge of his nose, temporarily blinding him in his own blood. That had been a particularly bad day … one that rivaled today.

Yanking Narihisago's hair to raise his head, Yamane spat. "The guard I was on duty with the day he decided to go ballistic is still a paraplegic because of a broken neck. I ain't givin' this asshole an inch no matter what anyone says. So forgive me, I don't have a warm fuzzy feeling for the hero of the day."

Only two people in this room could spare him from this humiliation. Itoh, that lazy ass, wouldn't bother to say a word. Out of the corner of his eyes, Narihisago caught Momoki standing there motionless, mimicking a gold fish. No hope there either. Any attempt on his part to halt this wretched treatment would only make his situation worse.

Another guard cuffed Fukuda, still standing while Narihisago remained forced into humiliating submission. There wasn't a damn thing he dared do as his forehead was shoved against the carpeted floor. He didn't even try a vain attempt to shrug Yamane from leaning on his back making it harder to breathe. All he wanted now was a bit of quiet time in his cell. Just to be left alone for a while. But this was now going to be an irritating, over-handled journey down the stairs.

Narihisago stared at the floor inches from his face as more than a tense minute ticked onward. He felt the weight of all those eyes on him, the burden of their gazes as any veil that had hidden his shameful truth shredded. Now any illusion of the status of their pilot had been entirely dismantled.

Yamane roughly hauled him to his feet. "Off to solitary for you."

"Wa … wait." Momoki found his voice at last. "Take both of them to their own cells. I need to speak with the chief first."

"But he … ," Yamane gestured to Hirai.

"You have your orders." It was shaky, but firm enough to stand.

"Alright … fine. Pull rank."

Narihisago hesitated for a moment, risking Yamane's wrath as the man tried to drag him further. For all the guard's bluster, Narihisago was stronger. He turned back to Momoki and offered him a quick glance before lowering his eyes back to the floor. "Don't shoulder the guilt, let me do that. At least I don't really feel it."

That … was a lie.