Wooo! Happy shiny new 2019! I hope that Valentine's Day will be nice for everyone!

Sassybratt was the perfect beta, as always; if only her job would let her rest more! Preferably with a nice weeklong getaway to some tropical resort where she can bask in the sun ;)

Their next assignment in the investigation was to visit Higurashi Inuyasha's workplace. Due to the area's size, the entire team was being sent out on what would hopefully be the first and only trip there.

To everyone's surprise, his workplace turned out to be a section of the planned Olympic Village.

"When he said he's a construction worker, I didn't think he meant for the Olympics! Wow!" Shima was positively starry-eyed over the revelation.

Miroku, though somewhat impressed given the hype surrounding the event, was not nearly as enthusiastic with the news as she was. Something about it didn't sit quite right with him. "Well, considering we're only three years away from the main event, it makes sense for a lot of the current workforce to be focused on it. A lot of money and time are being invested for it to come out perfect." He paused, frowning. "What I don't understand is why he didn't mention this to us. You'd think that with something as prestigious as the Olympics, he'd say something about it…especially considering that he's under investigation. Any other person would be excited enough to brag, in my opinion."

"I dunno man," Awara spoke up as he reclined in one of the swivel chairs and lazily tossed a paper ball back and forth. "Is it even possible for that guy to feel anything else besides annoyance and anger?"

"Annoyed anger because of his emotional constipation," Oda said, and the two burst into childish giggles.

Sango cleared her throat testily. "When you're done with your little comedy routine," she growled and glared sharply at the offenders, "I'd like to get back to the matter at hand."

"Sorry, Tachibana-san." The pair looked appropriately apologetic and quieted down immediately.

She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated, and wondered if they were going to be like this for the rest of their time together. Being told she needed to babysit Miroku was bad enough, but to have Oda and Awara putting on a class clown act on the job was trying her patience…and they had barely spent a week together as a team.

Men are so obnoxious, she griped to herself. But thank God for Kuranosuke being normal.

"Now then." Sango tapped the whiteboard loudly so as to grab everyone's attention. "It's been established that Higurashi-san is a construction worker. However," the following words left a sour taste on her tongue, "Ishida-san is right. Why did we have to find out his place of employment for ourselves instead of him telling us from the start? Some people are naturally forgetful, but Higurashi-san doesn't seem like the forgetful type."

Kuranosuke nodded to himself. "It's not like his line of work is seedy enough that any other person would feel the need to hide it the way, say, prostitutes and drug dealers do. His family members would have certainly told us about the Olympic Village had they known. And the context that we're working with right now doesn't look too good for him to begin with."

The room fell into a speculative silence as the team pondered the significance of the facts.

Miroku's jaw tightened. A missing wife, a husband with a temper who was reported to have frequent quarrels with her, testimony that alluded to a troubled past of some sort, and now, the discovery that he had not been forthcoming about an important piece of information.

Why omit a detail like this? Miroku thought.

What are you hiding, Higurashi?

Sango pointed to a piece of paper she had taped to the whiteboard and cleared her throat. "As we all know, the government is the main contractor for work related to the Olympics. However, due to needing to mitigate costs—especially because of the state of the economy—there are a number of subcontractors who've won construction bids from the government. According to records…provided by Higurashi-san, his employer, Sasagani Iron Company, is one of those subcontractors."

The paper showed a purple logo in the form of a straight line capped by a circle on either end, with the kanji forming the company's name below it written out in a neat, minimalist font. Additional information such as its phone numbers, contact email, and office addresses were also displayed.

"So it's just a matter of marching over there and taking statements, or are there some things we need to be aware of first? Something tells me a company involved in the Olympics of all things won't be too keen on having us there," Koharu said sagely.

"Unfortunately, you're right," Sango confirmed. "When I reported our findings to gr–the Precinct Chief, I was told that we needed to call them, as well as the area's police station and the Ministry of Land's local office, to inform them of our investigation. Standard procedure, but these are special circumstances so I was told we need to be extra discreet."

"So we have to keep our heads down because sniffing around there will look bad."

They all heaved a collective sigh. Despite the importance of the country's bureaucracy in running things smoothly, there was something to be said about the steps taken to avoid offending others. Nobody was looking to rock the boat or anything of the sort, but their work would certainly feel smoother, less fraught with fears of throwing a wrench into a tediously oiled machine, if they were allowed to take a more straightforward approach.

But Japan was Japan, they supposed. Far better for them to be there than anywhere else.

"So what time are we heading out?" Oda was putting on his best impression of good behaviour, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Sango's scolding again.

"We group here at 0500 hours sharp and leave at 0600," she replied.

Miroku, chuckling as though to himself, but certainly loud enough for everyone else to catch, dove right into his now-routine teasing. "Don't worry, Sango-san. You can say five and six AM—I don't think you'll get in trouble with the precinct chief or the superintendent if you do."

"Thank you for your kind words, Ishida-san," Sango grumbled through thinned lips. "Please keep them in mind so that you don't come here after seven like you usually do."

Work was in full swing at the construction site by the time their purposely inconspicuous van rolled up to the designated drop off area. The air was hazy with dust and stank of petrol and other chemicals. Cranes towered over them, as though they were surveying the sandy terrain and the worker ants scurrying over it, and the roar of heavy machinery added to the din.

Sango had instructed the team to come in plainclothes—they needed to be discreet, after all—and she was already grinding her teeth at the inability of a certain few to fully follow her commands.

"When I said 'civilian attire'," she hissed under her breath, "I didn't mean this."

They were supposed to come in respectable business wear. Awara and Oda were the main offenders, of course, but Kuwatani's failure to stick to protocol didn't help keep Sango's blood pressure down—her tight trousers, slouchy cardigan, and knit cap were better suited to a day out with friends than at a police investigation (Sango would never admit out loud that she found the ensemble cute). However, it was far more professional than Oda's sorry excuse of an outfit: red sneakers, jeans, and, of all things, a tshirt featuring a big-breasted anime character winking cheekily in a bikini.

"I'm soooo sorry!" Kuwatani clapped her hands and bowed apologetically. "My fancy stuff is either in the wash or at the dry cleaners. I try to schedule regular cleaning so they can stay nice and fresh, you know?"

And yet you don't keep a spare suit around for occasions like this? Sango thought.

Oda kicked his heels embarrassedly on the ground, avoiding Sango's eyes. "…I don't really own any suits or stuff like that."

How were you able to enter the workforce again? Sango wanted to roll her eyes.

Awara came in a suit, at least…an old, ratty suit, scuffed loafers, and a yellowed, stained shirt that clearly saw more time in bars than it did at work. "It's what I got," he offered with a nonchalant shrug.

Sango exhaled deeply, resigning herself to yet another instance of her team's lack of professionalism. Thankfully, it was not the case with Kuranosuke, Tsuyu, and Koharu; all came in appropriately sober business clothes that were clean and well-fitted.

Even Ishida came prepared! Sango fumed to herself as they saw a company representative heading their way. Ishida! How badly do you mess up for Ishida to come looking better than you?

Miroku showing up in a navy blue suit and worn, but well cared for, loafers gave Sango a little hope that he would stick to her orders and behave. Her hopes were dashed a second later when they saw that the representative was a fairly attractive young woman, and his eyes did that weird thing they always did whenever fairly attractive young women were around.

Miroku took a step forward and began to open his mouth to try and charm the representative with a smooth introduction.

"Oh no you don't." Sango yanked him back roughly by the back of his jacket. She placed herself firmly in front of the team, her spine ramrod straight, and spoke to them in a low, irritated tone.

"Protocol has to be followed," she practically hissed. "We have to put up a cohesive front and maintain the good image of the police corps. And yet here we've got three-eighths of the team dressed absolutely inappropriately, and another," her eyes shot to Miroku, "obviously trying to put the moves on at work."

"We apologise deeply, Inspector Tachibana." At least the team had the decency to look contrite as the all bowed with sorry expressions on their faces.

Sango sighed. "This can never, ever, happen again. Keep that in mind."

Thankfully, it seemed as though the representative didn't catch their little spat, or at least she was good at pretending she didn't. She was dressed in a smartly tailored purple pantsuit with matching glasses and her hair done up in a boring bun.

"Good morning. My name is Yabūchi Kyoko. I will be your guide today through the Harumi Waterfront Olympic Village construction site. I hope to be of service to you all." She bowed as soon as she finished speaking.

Sango found the woman's intonation a little odd, as though she memorised her words by rote, but paid it no further mind. She introduced herself and the rest of the team.

"This way, please." Yabūchi turned and began a brisk walk to the main area.

They were given yellow hard hats and glaringly orange safety vests to wear at the entrance gate. Additionally, ID cards with the word GOVERNMENT emblazoned across the plastic in a bright purple script were clipped onto their vests. Once Yabūchi and who they assumed was a safety supervisor gave them a once over to make sure their safety gear was properly fitted, the team was made to sign in their visit at the gate's scanner with their IDs, and were finally allowed through.

Their team kicked up loose dirt and dust as Yabūchi led them across the site, seemingly uncaring of her expensive looking shoes being soiled. Forklifts trundled about with bundles of planks and metal beams; excavators dug massive gouges into the earth, as concrete mixers on standby readied themselves to pour the foundations of many, many buildings; architects in suits stood under the shelter of a small lean-to as they fussed over a table loaded with blueprints, maps, graphs, and other very technical and difficult looking documents. Sango wondered if Higurashi kept to one specific area of all that organised chaos, or had to run all over the place as the other workers seemingly had to.

But why be so cagey over that information? Why lie by omission over the true nature of his work? And what could that have to do with his wife?

The longer Sango dwelled on her speculations, the greater her sense of unease grew.

Could the site be hiding some things, too?

Yabūchi popped her thought bubble as she called to them over the noise of construction. "Sasagami Iron was, of course, worried to receive your call. We are dealing with sensitive work here, and any kind of trouble could seriously compromise that."

"We understand, Yabūchi-san." Sango squinted as the sun started climbing higher in the sky—with the dust and now the light becoming stronger, she was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. "But we must emphasise that we need your cooperation to get to the bottom of this. The wife of one of your employees has gone missing, and we need all the information we can get to find her and bring her back home safely."

Yabūchi nodded politely. "I understand. What are you planning to investigate here?"

"Information on Higurashi Inuyasha's timetable, his general activities, who his colleagues are and how well they get along with him."

"Would you prefer to speak with him? He was given a few days off, in light of the news, but we can always call him back…"

"It won't be necessary, as we plan to have him return to the precinct for further questioning."

"Of course. Follow me." Sango did not point out the redundancy of her request as the representative took a left and led them further back into the site.

Salt and wind filled the air; they had reached the end of the waterfront, and Sango was grateful for a brief respite from the dust and the clamour as the sea breeze blew in from Tokyo Bay. The water sparkled beautifully under the sun to the tune of gulls crying. Postcard-perfect boats and ferries cut across the bay, creating waves that lapped softly against the land's edge.

Yabūchi's destination was a trio of moderately sized temporary building units: the one on the left had a sign that designated it as the main office, the middle one a canteen, and the remaining one on the right the infirmary. Yabūchi took them to the office.

A barrier of silence enveloped the group completely as they followed the representative to a particular desk at the back of the overwhelmingly beige building. The woman manning it was a stout, middle aged secretary who barely glanced up from her work until Yabūchi called her attention out loud. "What can I do for you, Yabūchi-san?"

The representative extended her arm gracefully, gesturing to the team. "I'm here with some…government agents who have some questions over an employee, and we need to see his records."

"What's his name?"

"Higurashi Inuyasha."

The clacking of the old, hardset keyboard was grating on the ears, and the gigantic whale-bellied computer had a suspiciously yellow tint to it. Why some companies refused to update their ageing, outdated tech was beyond common sense reasoning. At the very least this one had bothered to digitise their files. The printer whirred and buzzed for an ominously long time, until, finally, it spat out a handful of papers.

"Will that be all?" the secretary asked.

"Yes, that will be all. Thank you for your help," Yabūchi replied.

They exited at a brisk pace at Sango's urging—interviewing as many of Higurashi's coworkers as they could and scoping out as wide an area they could manage of the place was essential in order to keep the investigation on schedule.

Yabūchi handed her the papers. "These explain his usual timetable and the other workers assigned to the same hours and tasks as he is."

"Thank you." Sango motioned for the rest of the team to step closer, so they could all get a good look at the information. It detailed his expected start time at 7:30 AM with the ironworks crew, a break at 9, resuming work half an hour later, then a lunch break at 1, and ending the day at 4.

"Wow," Oda whistled slowly under his breath. "I'd kill to have a schedule like that."

Sango levelled a sharp glare his way, an unspoken 'what did I say before?' alight in her eyes, and Oda shrunk into his wildly inappropriate shirt, turtle-like.

"It says here that he's assigned to a ten-man team." Koharu tapped a section below the timetable; Higurashi's name was boxed in along with nine other names, the poor quality of the printing having blurred and distorted them slightly.

"It's 7 AM now, so his group doesn't start work yet…" Tsuyu said hesitantly.

Kuranosuke, as thoughtful and kind as always, stepped in to reassure her with a broad smile on his lips. "Don't worry, Kai-san. I'm sure some of them have arrived already, so we can start with them. And if not, we try to see who else knows him, or start surveying the area."

"Oh, that's a great idea! Thank you, Takeda-san, as usual."

"Don't mention it." Kuranosuke's beaming was positively uplifting.

Sango was glad to have someone as calm and level-headed as Kuranosuke on her team. His high level of professionalism, good manners, and dedication certainly helped ease some of the stress of the job—unlike some other people she could think of.

And speaking of other people…Sango caught Miroku's expression out of the corner of her eye. He looked peeved—dare she say sulky, even—but she couldn't tell if it was due to some unrelated thing, or because of her praise for Kuranosuke. Sango was weirdly tempted to gloat about it if it turned out to be the latter.

Grow up. Sango felt simultaneously petty and annoyed. If you want to be complimented so much, then earn it by focusing on your work.

She cleared her throat. "There's eight of us and ten of them. I say we'd cover more ground by splitting up into groups of two: one to survey part of the grounds, another to interview part of the ironworks crew; we regroup at 8 AM to switch, and we meet at the gates at 9." She allowed a paused to stretch, making sure they had time to process her instructions. "Any questions?"

"No, Tachibana-san," the group chorused.

"I would be very happy to continue showing you the area," Yabūchi added.

His previous moodiness seemingly forgotten, Miroku positively jumped at the chance to spend time with the representative. "And I would be very happy to go with—"

"Amamiya, Takeda, and myself. We'll be part of the first group." Sango was quick to shut down any and all attempts at flirting. Not on her watch, he wasn't. She mentally smirked to herself when Miroku's face fell in a graceless pout.

Yabūchi retraced their route back to the entrance gates, calling for the guards on duty to ask if a supervisor was on hand to check if the next shift of iron workers had arrived. Said supervisor was a nondescript man who went into a side office where they had the entry data from the ids, as well as cameras pointing at the gates, to confirm. He informed the representative that all men (barring Higurashi) had just arrived.

"We'll start with the entrance; as you know, we have four cameras pointed here at all times, and an additional five pointing inwards towards the rest of the site. Security staff are present 24/7 to monitor the feeds. Materials theft, loiterers…we can't be too careful, especially with the Olympics coming soon. Additionally, we have a planned shuttle service between here and various sporting venues, as well as direct access to the Kachidochi train line."

Yabūchi gestured to the rest of the immediate site before them. "What you see here are the foundations for athlete accommodations—21 high rises composed of 5,560 living spaces, more than enough space for visitors from two hundred countries and territories. Security units patrol them daily, and will also be on hand during the main events."

She led them past the massive iron skeletons of the buildings, rattling off a list of facts—Residence A would house the American athletes, Residence B the Europeans, Residence C the Asians, etc—and detailing the green spaces that would be incorporated into the site, in keeping with the theme of being a forward-thinking, sustainable and eco friendly Olympics. The residences would range from 14 to 17 storeys high and would include personal training areas, kitchenettes, and, of course, be tailored to include the needs of disabled athletes for the Paralympics.

"The entire site occupies some 44 hectares, so we're not the only ones building here; we're joined by colleagues from Taishō Corp and several other companies. We are very proud to work alongside them and lend our efforts to the Olympics."

Sango was very pleased to see that the team was dutifully taking notes and pictures to save for the investigation's dossier. They had to be as thorough as possible on every front, no matter how little time they spent in one place.

Miroku, on the other hand…

"No notepad?" she said, raising her eyebrow.

The smile he presented was annoyingly breezy and relaxed. "I prefer to watch and listen. Better to keep a close ear on the words spoken and eyes left on what's unspoken, right? And besides," he winked with what he surely thought was winning charm, "I can always copy off you guys later if I miss anything."

Sango huffed and looked away.

Yabūchi pointed out the base for the running course, the main gym, the wellness centre, and a leisure area that would include a rock garden and meditation pavilion.

"We also have a bath house planned so that foreign and local athletes alike can partake of a quintessential Japanese experience whilst washing their tiredness away," she recited in that curiously corporate tone.

"Oh, that's nice! A long hot soak sounds great right now. Does it accept any walk-ins?" Miroku tried to joke.

His inappropriate attempts at humour were met with silence; Sango shot the rest of their group a warning glance, and either Yabūchi didn't get what Miroku was trying to say, or simply didn't find him funny. Sango would've preferred the latter (that'll show him, she thought), but then again, Yabūchi seemed pretty humourless in the first place.

"The Village and its venues are strictly off-limits to the general public," she said.

"Ahaha, what a shame! I should've considered my career choices harder back in school—being an athlete sure has its perks."

As Yabūchi gave them another look at the canteen and main office, Sango pulled Miroku aside as unnoticeably as she could. "Can you not?"

"Can I not what?" His face was carefully composed, showing nothing except an expression of innocent confusion. Sango's neck prickled hotly again, and the thought of having to get used to that feeling now that Miroku was on her team spiked her blood pressure again.

"Look." Sango pinched the bridge of her nose. Why did she keep having to explain things to adults? To supposed professionals? If her grandfather was so adamant about her babysitting the team instead of leading it, the least he could have done was given her a pay raise to go with the newly added stress. "I'm your superior. I need you to do exactly as I say, and that includes not goofing off and trying to be funny while we're working a missing persons case. I need you to be on your best behaviour and not embarrass the police as a whole. You are a representative of the force and you need to act like it."

"Sango-san, I'm rather hurt that you think I'm undermining the force! But alas, as my superior, like you said, I must do as you say. In fact, I live only to serve your needs, so I will—"

"Just leave the talking to me," Sango grumbled. "And that's Tachibana-san to you."

Let me get that out there since I keep having to repeat the same things over and over again.

Things had seemingly quieted down. Yabūchi was giving them a spiel about the company's history and how lucky they were to have won the construction bid, having faced fierce competition from the likes of Taisei and Shimizu in an underdog story that surprised the corporate world. A bid for something as prestigious as the Olympics awarded to a small and relatively unknown company raised more than a few brows, but they were determined to rise to the occasion and show everyone that their win was entirely well-deserved.

"Our size is a bit of a problem sometimes, I'll admit," Yabūchi droned on. "But we can always count on our strong will and our construction partners to help get the job done. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for Sasagani Iron and we are constantly doing our best."

The team expressed polite congratulatory messages and well-wishing for the company, hoping that all work leading up to the Olympics would go smoothly. Everyone, that is, except a certain someone. Sango, frowning, wondered why she didn't hear Miroku's voice until she realised he wasn't around anymore.

What the hell? Sango's ponytail whipped into her eyes as she looked this way and that. Why wasn't he with them? What on earth could have compelled him to walk away?

To her horror, she spotted him a long way off from the group, talking to a trio of construction workers laying pipes next to an area blocked off by plastic fencing marked with RESTRICTED ZONE in bright yellow. The workers gestured to something beyond the fencing, and Miroku, signing back to them, crossed the barriers and started walking away.

Sango's blood boiled in her ears as hot as the soles of her shoes felt on feet as she power walked towards the scene. She practically vaulted the fencing and the force of her grip on Miroku's shirt collar caught him by surprise.

"Ah, Sango-san, I was—"

"Ishida-san. You are to return to the group immediately. Once we make the switch with the others, you're going to head to the entrance to return your badge, and you'll wait for us in the van."

"Sango-san, that's not really fair—"

"I'm not asking you."

Pursing his lips in protest, Miroku sighed and let himself be led back. He was appropriately silent when they reunited with the others. Sango ignored Koharu's curious gaze burning a hole into the back of her head; Yabūchi, thankfully, was either too polite to comment on the transpired events or simply didn't care.

"I apologise," Sango whispered as delicately and quietly as she could to the representative when they started walking back to make the switch. It wouldn't do for an entire construction site to see the team bowing as a whole because of Miroku's mistake, so she opted to keep it between her and Yabūchi. "We haven't covered that area and he was wondering about it."

Yabūchi adjusted her glasses. "No worries. Curiosity is understandable. But I'm afraid that section of the site is off-limits to everyone but a select few: the Village power plant will be placed there, and it has some delicate components that require only very skilled experts to handle them. I don't have the authorisation to take you there anyways."

"Of course. Thank you, Yabūchi-san." Sango made a mental note to try and procure a search warrant for that sector in the chance that the case would bring them back to the construction site.

If Miroku is going to keep trying to pull dumb stunts like that, though, Sango's thought process soured suddenly, I'm not so sure I'd like to go anywhere if it means dragging him along.

Barring the rather embarrassing way that Sango caught him wandering off by himself, Miroku found the daytrip to have been rather productive. They got pictures and notes of the site, as well as a rather thrilling look into behind-the-scenes work that went into the Olympics. His wonderstruck inner child looked forward to when the main events would be televised around the world, seeing throngs of foreign tourists crowding in the stadiums to support their teams, and making bets at the bar over who would win which medals.

(He thought of calling Mushin, but ultimately decided against it)

He wasn't too worried over the dressing down Sango gave him on the way back to the precinct—she just looked so cute when angry, with her pupils dilated and the skin of her neck and cheeks colouring a certain shade of pink. So what if she was his superior officer? Teasing and riling her up was a surefire way to break that image of calm and composed professionalism that she was so insistent upon, and Miroku planned many, many more days of doing just that.

Hachi and Oda filled him in back in the van. Either way, they were all going over the day's notes and evidence in the side room that superintendent Shimura had assigned to them for the case.

But Hachi and Oda told him that there was testimony that was rather unpleasant to hear.

"Okay then." Sango had taken up her usual position at the very back, next to the whiteboard. "Higurashi-san is assigned to the iron workers, meaning they're in charge of erecting—"

She glared at Oda for giggling and resumed her sentence.

"—the steel framework of buildings. They operate heavy machinery like cranes and also work closely with the welding crew."

"Oh!" Tsuyu exclaimed. "The ironworkers said something about that…that Higurashi-san was often requested to fill in for a welder who got hurt on the job. They kept bringing up how that red jacket of his is apparently good enough to protect him from the heat and the sparks."

An image of a scowling, grunting man pushing rebar into place came to mind, of pulling his hair into a tail and a face hidden behind a welding helmet, lit up by the flash of a cutting torch —of Higurashi's dirty, soot streaked face framed by the doorway to his apartment as he came home to find a crime scene.

I wonder what he's doing right now, Miroku thought.

"Is switching between assignments like that allowed? Or even legal?" Takeda's query pushed him out of his chair and closer to the whiteboard, holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger as he carefully considered the words Sango had written.

Sango hummed in response. "I'm not sure what the labour laws say about that. Maybe if there's an official contract for it, or if the compensation is good…"

"Careful—we don't know if asking about that will bring us more trouble than its worth. If we're just investigating a missing person, sniffing at a construction company's work practices might land us in some hot water, especially since the precinct chief told us to keep our heads down," Amamiya warned.

"A construction company that's involved in the Olympics, to boot," Takeda added.

The team heaved a collective sigh as the significance of the new evidence weighed upon them. Things would be so much simpler if Higurashi was involved in smaller stuff like building apartment buildings, or department stores, or roads. But with the Olympics, all eyes would be on them if the police announced that they were investigating a subcontractor involved with the installation of the Olympic Village. And with only three years to go and the government obviously eager to avoid the bad press that plagued previous Olympiads, Miroku could see why their superiors were ordering them to keep a low profile.

Sango cleared her throat. "Okay. So we got Higurashi-san, officially, as part of one shift of ironworkers; ten men total, not including him."

She taped up medium-sized, perfectly square headshots of the crew and wrote their names below their pictures:

Fukuyama Daigo

Hagino Hayate

Kako Shūji

Chiba Yoshitaka

Hitsugaya Tōshū

Fukunaga Nobuo

Wada Takeo

Kiryu Toshikazu

Matsuzawa Jun

Hirano Yoichi

"They form the third team for the second shift out of a total of nine other groups in their shift. All of them different ages, but skewing towards middle-aged with Higurashi, Hagino, and Hitsugaya as the youngest. Now, Hirano-san is the group supervisor, and the others are supposed to work in pairs. Higurashi's team is currently assigned to a mid-sized annex that is supposed to be a storage area for one of the residences. Hirano-san says they're on schedule to finish it in tandem with the other three teams working on the residence."

Sango uncapped the marker she was holding to add the men's ages to the roster. Miroku found her neat, tight script to be rather endearing.

After a moment's hesitation, Sango went to the cabinet they had started using for their files, dug around for a bit, and retrieved a picture of Higurashi that she taped to the whiteboard along with the other photos.

She tapped her marker against her chin. "Has anyone found anything odd or unusual about their testimonies? Their schedules? Anything else?"

"They all said just about the same thing," Amamiya said. "That they come to work around the same time and leave around the same time too. That Higurashi's a hard worker, but keeps to himself and doesn't like to socialise much, so he doesn't go out with them for drinks after work or anything."

"They said he can be pretty ornery and downright mean," Hachi added after taking a noisy slurp from his coffee cup.

Frowning, Sango added that to the whiteboard. "Do you remember who said that, exactly?"

He pointed to two particular spots on the board. "Numbers two and five. The other guys agreed with them."

The room fell into a brief pause as they studied the pictures of the men in question: Hagino was a weaselly looking young man with dyed blond shoulder length hair; Hitsugaya also had longish hair, but his was tied back into a tail, and the ends of his eyebrows were frayed and wispy.

"Can you quote their exact words?"

Kai raised her arm enthusiastically. "I brought my tape recorder just for the occasion!"

She took out the sleek white device Miroku remembered from the shrine investigation out of her bag, pressing the play and next buttons until finding the tracks they needed.

"I heard about Higurashi-san," a soft, apologetic voice murmured. "I'm very worried. Granted, I know they don't live in the best part of town, but I never thought something as bad as that could happen…well, anywhere. This is supposed to be a relatively safe city, right?"

"What about her husband? What can you tell us about him?" Oda's voice came out a bit muffled.

The pause on the tape was rendered as staticky noise, interspersed with background interference from other people and heavy machinery. "Well…he's…well, we work together…he's alright. But…I don't know. He's not really the nicest person most of the time."

The group shared a look.

"He doesn't like to share much about himself. Asking him things…making small talk…seems to offend him. So after work when we usually head out to an izakaya for some beer and food, he doesn't come. He goes straight home to his wife."

"Do you know anything about her?"

Another pause, longer this time. "I don't…I don't really. His wife is an off limits topic."

"What do you mean?"

"When we're working, and when we talk, we usually bring up our home lives. Shūji-san's wife makes him extra lunch to share with us, Takeo-san's daughter just started junior high…but Higurashi-san doesn't like to talk about that at all. I dunno. If we're discussing things like the weather or baseball or current events, he'll hang back to listen, but the atmosphere around him totally changes if we try to bring up his wife."

That feeling Miroku had when interviewing Higurashi for the first time reared up at the back of his head; something heavy and unpleasant, but now, hearing Hitsugaya discuss the man made it worse. Then again, what had he been expecting? If Higurashi was rude to him then it stood to reason that'd he be worse around his colleagues.

"Hayate-san in particular kept bothering him to talk about her, since, well, Hayate-san is a bit of a pest and he wanted to know why Higurashi-san didn't want to…he got cussed out pretty badly. But then there was this one time where Higurashi—he forgot his lunch. Most of us bring our food from home, since we'd rather not use our money on the cafeteria meals, and he forgot his one day. So…his wife came over and brought it with her."

"And then what happened?" That was Kai's voice, sounding more high-pitched than usual on the recording device.

A deep breath blew more static into the audio. Another stretch of silence threaded more tension into the room as the team waited for Hitsugaya's reply.

"Look," he sighed wearily. "I don't want to speak ill of my teammates, or the company, but…some of them don't have the best manners, really. And they're all men of a certain age with certain ideas and expectations, and…well, when Higurashi-san's wife came here, and they saw that she's young and pretty and nice…"

"Higurashi-san didn't like that, I take it." That was Hachi speaking.

"Not at all. He was already steaming mad over the looks she got, but then Hayate-san decided he had to go and open that big mouth of his…we already knew that Higurashi-san was mean, but we didn't expect him to be violent," Hitsugaya said.

Kai's little gasp sounded very close to the microphone. "They got into a fight? Was blood drawn?"

"Hayate-san's choice of words was…crude. But Higurashi-san, he…he punched Hayate-san, and he pinned him into a building section we'd just started, and…well, I was the only one there to see it besides Hirano-san, who came running and put a stop to it immediately. But I'll never forget the anger on his face…and he threatened Hayate-san if he ever even thought about his wife like that again." Hitsugaya's tone had changed from meek and halting to fearful. The recorder caught his loud swallow at the end and it lent an ominous note to his words.

"Tsuyu-san," Sango spoke up suddenly. "Stop the recording."

Kai dutifully pressed the pause button, looking up to their chief expectantly. All of them watched as Sango wrote bulleted points down underneath Hitsugaya's picture.

"Okay. Let's go to Hagino-san's testimony next," Sango said as soon as she finished.

Hagino Hayate's voice was very different from Hitsugaya Tōshū's: loud, brassy, and nasal, his strong Kansai accent jarred them at first. "Higurashi? Not surprised," he harrumphed. "Total asshole. Major asshole. I'm not surprised you guys are here sniffing around about him—I'm just wondering what took you so long!"

"Can you tell us more about his conduct?" Hachi asked.

The roar of an excavator drowned out the interrogation just as Hagino was about to talk. As the commotion died down, Hagino was heard groaning in annoyance. "As I was ABOUT to say—he's bad news. At first I just thought he was just grumpy, 'cause he doesn't like small talk, he's got this scowl on all the time, and he's super unfriendly. Like, we'd invite him for drinks and some food, or we'd just wanna shoot the shit, and he'd always act like we kicked him or something. Never seemed to do anything right by him. Whatever—we've all met that one person in our lives, right? Just seemed to be a case of the grumps. But then I brought up his wife one time—"

"What happened 'that one time?'" Hachi had to shout his question as the excavator started up again.

"It was like any other day. We were on our lunch break—his lunches are always really nice, you know? Like, we could always tell they were made with lots of love and care. And I was always super jealous! I live by myself and I can't cook worth shit, so it's usually convenience store bento or buying food from the canteen. But that day was apparently special or something, 'cause he came with this amazing character bento: I'm talking octopus sausages, dog and cat shaped onigiri, a salad with cherry tomatoes and carrots and baby corn, and red and green dango…"

"Amazing how certain people don't remember where they were at the time of a crime, but they'll tell you everything about what they ate," Takeda joked. Miroku felt a stab of envy as Kuwatani giggled and Sango cracked a smile. Why would Sango scold him for trying to lighten the mood up, but not Takeda?

"So I got pretty jealous, you know? I hadn't known him that long at the time, and I was curious over his lady; what'd she see in him, anyways? A mean guy like that? I thought to myself, 'she must really love this guy if she's willing to get up at the asscrack of dawn to make him a lunch like that before he goes to work.'" Hagino paused briefly. "So I asked him, real nicely, about her."

Miroku had a hunch that Hagino was leaving out more than he let on, and that his "nice way of asking" was actually quite different.

"It was like a rain cloud covered us. Like if I told him that he sucked to his face, or kicked his grandma, or—well, you get the picture. He cussed me out pretty good and told me to 'mind my own fucking business.'"

Oda was heard speaking again. "Do you remember any other instances of butting heads with him? Any other disagreements?"

Hagino's laugh was sheepish, and more than a bit fake, it seemed. "Well, no, not exactly, but, uhhhhh. Well. I dunno. I'm a curious cat, and him being so wound up about his wife got me wondering. I didn't do anything bad to him or anything…I'd just ask him about her. And he'd get so mad! He wasn't much of a talker to begin with, but if I mentioned her—boy, would he get mad! And then this one time…"

Hagino fell silent as a crane rolled by. He resumed his line of thinking just as soon as it passed. "Anyways. So he forgot his lunch this one day—I think it was five months ago?—and she came by to drop it off for him and say hi." A low but sharp whistle punctuated his next words. "Wow! What a babe! I couldn't believe it when I first saw her…those big eyes, her smile, and legs that go on for miles—"

"Hagino-san," Kai reminded him gently.

"Right, right, sorry. Anyways. I couldn't believe that a gorgeous thing like her ended up with a nasty guy like him. Her being all sweet and saying hello to everyone, and him brushing us off and being such a jackass—maybe it's true what they say about girls not wanting nice guys. And I told her so."

"And then?"

"Her hubbie dearest went fucking berserk on me. Punched me right in the face—broke my goddamn nose and my cheekbone. Had to go to the doctor for some minor surgery, even. Then he pushed me into a column and held me there with his elbow at my neck, like this." He presumably demonstrated that to his interrogators. "His wife and Hirano-san pulled him off me, but I won't lie, I was scared shitless. Higurashi had this…look in his eyes. And I'll never forget what he said. He said: 'If you do anything like this again, if you even think about my wife again, then I promise you that I can do worse than this.'"

"Was any disciplinary action taken?"

Hagino's snort was full of scorn. "Was disciplinary—? Ha! I wish! Hirano-san just told me to shut up and stop provoking Higurashi, and that he wouldn't report us and get us both written up if we kept quiet, because that meant paperwork, and paperwork meant losing time on the job, and if we were fired then it'd be a hassle to get other guys who're as good as we are for the job. So I didn't say anything. But everyone knew, in the end. Just like we ended up knowing about what happened to his wife."

A sombre, pregnant silence suddenly seized Hagino, wordlessly choking him. The team sucked in a collective breath, unconsciously leaning in in anticipation.

"Maybe I hadn't—haven't—been the nicest guy to him. I dunno. But what he did…that doesn't justify it. Doesn't make it right. And then I hear about this and–and I just know, you know?"

"Know what?" Oda asked hesitantly.

"That the guy's a fucking psychopath," Hagino spat venomously. "All those nice lunches, and coming over to drop it off and say hello to him, and for what? I bet her dead body's already rotting somewhere. These kinda guys are all the same, nothing but balls of pent-up anger and shittiness. All these stories about missing wives end up the same. And it just makes me so angry, thinking that it's probably what happened to her, too."

"Tsuyu-san," Sango said.

The recording was stopped immediately. The air felt thick and taut, with the team's disquiet stopping their breaths.

Sango was the first to snap out of it, getting Kai to play the other voice recordings, and ordering them to start brainstorming possible motives they could connect to the case from what they inferred from the collected testimonies. Takeda was a keen and active speaker as he volleyballed question after question to Sango at the whiteboard.

Miroku was too absorbed in his thinking to really care about Takeda at the moment. Hagino Hayate's testimony pointed to something terrible about Higurashi Inuyasha: a history of violence. Several people, including a close acquaintance of his, according to Sango's orphanage visit, had highlighted Higurashi's hair-trigger temper. Miroku himself saw it in action. But to hear that he was certainly not all bark and no bite was more than just a little uncomfortable.

They were working on a missing person probe. But Miroku feared that they were dealing with something far more complicated.

Things are not looking good for Inuyasha at all…and just what will the intrepid team find out about him?

As a quick tidbit, there are some side characters from Inuyasha featured here in this chapter—your guess as to who, because saying too much would spoil part of my intentions. However, one of them is a non-canon character who only appeared in a Wonderswan game, another was featured in the manga and anime.

The Olympics are a contentious subject in Japan and, despite the hype the government is trying to sell about the events, Japanese citizens have their worries: the previous Olympics in Brazil ended in abandoned facilities and exposing the monetary, safety, and environmental shortfalls that hounded Brazil prior to the rise of rightwing Bolsonaro to the presidency, not to mention the corruption and the exposure of the Odebrecht scandal. Japan obviously wishes to avoid all that, and people are still concerned even though Abe's government promises a "safe, eco-friendly, sustainable Olympiad." Protests are happening, and they'll also be mentioned in this fic.

The site of the Olympic Village is occupying a waterfront space of 44 hectares (approx 108 acres) in Harumi, Tokyo. I fudged a lot of details in its description here in the fic, but the information about the amount of living spaces and its location come straight from an NHK article (that I can't link here because ffnet is dumb like that). I also am not an expert about construction work and such, haha. After the Olympics, the government wants to use the land the Village will be occupying to build residential units, a school, and a hydrogen power plant.

Hayate speaks in a Kansai accent here. Tv Tropes describes the closest equivalents to it as Brooklyn, Texan, Brummie, Busan, Andalucian, Odessan, and Altiplano Mexican Spanish accents; that is to say, fast, and associated with stereotypes of brash and friendly but poorly educated people. Kansai-ben is a bit of a broad term because Kansai is a large area, and the refined, soft speech that is Kyoto-ben (contrary to the Kansai stereotype) is also included in the Kansai-ben category. If you've ever seen Azumanga Daioh, then you'll recognise Ayumu "Osaka" Kasuga's first appearance poked fun at the hick stereotype when Tomo thought that Ayumu being from Osaka meant that she'd be loud and a good comedian. Listening to youtube gave me, personally, the impression of drawn out and emphasised vowels that can often become slurred at times. Me choosing to make Hayate speak in Kansai-ben doesn't mean that I want to associate him with the stereotype of being a hick, however; culturally, Kansai is said to be more socially relaxed and open, compared to the colder and more formal attitudes of Tokyoites. During the interrogation, I wanted to include a character who would be blunter, but more forthcoming, about what the team is investigating. Recall also that Shippo's family came from Kansai.

See you next chapter!