I'm actually consumed by so much anxiety over the sequel considering the, uh, quality of Sunrise's writing ahahaha…hope it doesn't mean any shenanigans like "oh the tree being tampered with means we see a return of Naraku and Kikyo for Tension™ and Drama™!" That's not even getting into the absolutely bonkers Discourse over who the twins' mother is, and how many people, like me, have just chosen to pretend Sesshomaru reproduces via asexual division to avoid that. RIP to the discourse server over tinfoil hat time and just. Crossing our fingers over the entire thing ahahaha
Sango knew it even before jolting awake—Kohaku's face swam in the dark, lips pressed grim and thin, as she jerked up on her futon. "What happened?"
The bright glow of his phone hurt Sango's eyes for the briefest moment before they adjusted to the image of a woman with mascara running down her cheeks.
Her father and grandfather didn't even stop for breakfast as they all suited up, quickly and efficiently, and then piled into the private car they kept for emergencies like this. The Tachibanas could afford it, and the precinct had parking spaces reserved just for them, but no one really felt like counting their blessings as they pulled out of the small estate in the black stillness of night. Sango swiped her father's mobile (she didn't want a smartphone like he did) and pressed his earbuds in closer before pressing play on the screen.
"Hi everyone. Sorry I'm such a mess," Ayame sniffled, dabbing at her makeup streaked skin with a tissue. "But what I'm about to say is really difficult, so please, bear with me."
Sango tensed as she adjusted the volume.
"As you all know, I take time to report on criminal cases here, sometimes…we don't live in a perfect world, hard as it is. But now it's become too personal because…a friend I really care about was kidnapped from her home five days ago."
Oh god, she thought, glancing up from the video. Her father drove, and everyone sat in complete silence on their way to the precinct. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel.
"I say kidnapped because all evidence points to it: her apartment was broken into, the neighbours heard a struggle, and she's gone now. The police found blood on the floor. I can't claim to know more than this because this case is being kept too quiet for my liking, and the police haven't been very forthcoming with what they know. I'm not saying a coverup is going on, but I'm frustrated. It's been over 48 hours and we've got nothing. No message from the kidnappers, no motive, no nothing! I feel like I'm going to go crazy over this. I've gathered information I've been sitting on for years and it's still like I'm running in circles. I'll try to summarise this case the best as I can for you but—"
Sango cut the video off at that point to avoid getting carsick, leaning back into the headrest. No doubt the PR department had been alerted by now, and she wondered who else would be at the precinct to try and figure out their next move. Her team better be there at least. They were the ones leading the case in the first place—
"Dad," she said suddenly, feeling a worried pit open up in her stomach.
"It's going to be fine, Sango," he replied, not looking away from the road. "Just focus on your job."
She knew his professionalism meant keeping a calm façade for any occasion, but she couldn't help but feel slightly stung and dismissed.
Deputy Shimura received them in the precinct's enclosed parking garage. "We're preparing a statement for the media; we got calls from Sora News…"
"How long ago?" Ken asked.
"Twelve AM. The video was released at ten."
"As long as we can contain this and it doesn't spread to the Big Five, then we'll be fine."
Sango calculated: it was currently 4:00 a.m. sharp, and if her father and grandfather were here it usually meant the rest of their subordinates would be close in due time. She'd already sent an alert to the rest of their team, but the frustrated prickle still jabbed the back of her scalp, sharp and hot. This required delicacy to handle. It wasn't as if she hadn't fielded a press conference before or dealt with a situation that got media attention. But those were never pleasant experiences. The police could do their jobs so much better if the ravenous vultures wielding cameras and microphones weren't such a constant threat, circling over them, waiting for any show of weakness.
"Hello, Sango-senpai," came the greeting from the person she absolutely didn't want to see first thing before dawn. "Fancy seeing you here so early—"
"Not now Ishida," Sango barked as she trailed after Shako.
"Actually, I think it'd be better if you listened, because—"
"Not now."
Wait, Miroku stayed the night? What for? Ugh, she didn't have time to dwell on whatever it is he was planning when there were more pressing issues to deal with. Sango followed Ken and Shako to the bullpen and stood a little ways off to the side, back ramrod straight, as she awaited their announcement.
"I would wish you all a good morning, but I'm afraid that will have to wait in light of the situation on our hands," Shako explained, voice carrying out clearly over the ensuing hush to the people present. "One of our current cases seems to have attracted media attention."
The precinct wasn't as crass as to be loud over their disdain for the media. Still, the few unhappy mutters (and even a low hiss from someone in the back) conveyed the general sentiment well enough.
"We're going to talk to public relations and we've set up an appointment with the area's chief inspector, but for now we have to be patient. Should we get any more calls for comment, then you remember protocol: press conference at 9:00 a.m. at the entrance. The entire precinct should be on their best behaviour. We're all the face of the police and we have to look and act the part. Everyone's dismissed until further notice."
They spread to their respective stations immediately, in synch, likeas a great well-oiled mechanism uniquely attuned to its role. Sango felt immensely proud at the sight. This was what she'd been raised for her entire life. A major force to be reckoned with in its speed, its strength, its perseverance. The precinct had weathered storms before. They would handle this as well, and it would be nothing more than an annoying blip on the records as they solved this case.
(Sango tried to ignore the twinge that reminded her of her responsibility over it.)
She stepped into the public relations office. Her father and grandfather were deep in conversation with their media liaison, a woman named Iwao Tomoyo, and they only looked up when Sango approached close enough to clear her throat discreetly.
"Inspector Tachibana, I trust you won't need to be debriefed over the general motions for any potential press conference? It is your case after all," Iwao asked pointedly.
"Not at all. I know what to do. And I think I'm up to the task of taking on a press conference myself." Sango bowed her head slightly in the older woman's direction. She ignored the surprised glances sent her way.
"It won't hurt to read up though…Sora News is an English language portal and we don't need this spreading any more than necessary. Not to mention we just got a few other requests for comment from the likes of Livedoor and —" Iwao squinted over a printout in her hands "— Red Comb Gossip."
A strangled gasp from the door tore everyone's eyes to reveal Oda, sweaty and dishevelled; he clutched the door frame with shaky fingers and panted as a rather peeved Sango excused herself to address him.
"Is this the way to announce yourself?" she hissed under her breath.
Oda sucked in a deep breath. "I'm really, really, really sorry Tachibana-san, but when I got the alert I came as fast as I could, and now I'm hearing that—"
"Inspector to you, and I can't handle you at the moment."
"But—"
"Oda."
He sighed but did as she wished, and Miroku found him, pulling him away to quietly converse, occasionally glancing her way as they did. Sango returned to Iwao with a short apology and prompted her to continue.
"As I was saying," the older woman tutted, "it's early enough that we can craft an appropriate reply, and I think you should take the time to rehearse it. This Kitagawa person has a large social media following and it's only a matter of time before this picks up steam. Once the Big Five catch wind of this—"
"Don't you mean 'if?'" Sango's father interrupted.
"No. Social media these days often is the news itself, Superintendent. Maybe the reaction won't be immediate, and trust me, we need to buy all the time we can get when it comes to things like this, but we have to be extremely careful with what we present to the public. With most people glued to their phones all day, it's extremely easy for whatever site or blogger or whatnot to twist our words and start slinging accusations. What we say always has to keep the precinct's best interests at heart. And what gets shown to the outside cannot call our abilities into question under any circumstance."
Sango nodded vigorously, completely understanding of the situation's gravity. "I will take full responsibility for everything and anything that may come. This is my case."
Iwao's small eyes narrowed, scrutinising, as if in disbelief. Sango got the distinct impression that she didn't quite trust her word for it. It tightened the knot in her stomach. She was an inspector for god's sake, and someone from PR of all places looking down on her with skepticism meant she wasn't being taken as seriously as she needed to be.
"It's your first time heading a team of your own, yes, Inspector?" Iwao didn't say it unkindly, but Sango felt as though it was. "I know you're a stand-up officer, but handling the media isn't about how good you are at your job: it's about how well you can present the right narrative and not be torn to shreds over it. This is why we have public relations and spokespeople who can handle this instead of letting non-experts walk into a potential minefield."
"Iwao-san, don't go scaring her like that—" Ken tried to say.
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind for later," came Sango's stiff reply.
Her father pursed his lips ever so slightly but kept quiet, and nodded briefly before they returned to discussing their media strategy.
Iwao continued. "If you still insist on making an on-camera appearance or even talking to a reporter, you have to be vague about it. Police work is confidential and not something we go around sharing with the general public. You will be pressed on it but you can always tell them that you're not at liberty to discuss much except for the fact that you're devoting your time and attention to where it's necessary. I would still much prefer that you leave the media side of things to us because it's our job, Inspector…but perhaps they will call on you either way. No harm in preparing you for the vultures."
A quick knock at the door tore their attention away from Iwao towards Chief Shako's secretary, middle-aged Matsui Sakura, holding a phone up. Miroku, Oda, and now Kuwatani and Amamiya stood, awkwardly squished by the doorframe, waiting for Sango. The sight made the back of her neck prickle again. "Inspector Tachibana, there's a call for you."
"Who could be calling at this hour for Sango?" Ken's raised eyebrows almost made Sango groan. Not even five yet and everything was getting too stressful for comfort.
"The president of Sasagami Ironworks. He said it was urgent, and while he understands that it's very early, he saw the video and is worried over potential fallout with his company. He also mentioned…sensitive details related to the case that he's not comfortable sharing over the phone due to potential wiretapping issues. I've got him on hold right now but I can always redirect to Chief Shako, if it's too much for the moment."
Why was everyone suddenly treating her with kid gloves all of a sudden? Sango didn't make it all the way to the inspector's position without any effort. She'd been in tough moments before and this wasn't anything she couldn't handle.
"I'll take it," she announced resolutely.
"Sango…" her father started again.
"Dad. Really. It's just a call. It's for the case and the president employs one of the persons of interest, and with a potential media dust-up at our door, we're going to need to cover all the bases we can. Since he's reaching out to us now, it must mean he's got something important to tell us."
"Or he wants to protect his company, which is understandable, Sango, but it's not the same as having something you can use."
"What if it's both? We have to answer him sooner or later."
Ken, pursing his lips, gave a perfunctory nod in lieu of acknowledging his concession.
Sango reached out to take the phone from Matsui. "Hello, this is Inspector Tachibana speaking. You've reached Shinjuku's eight precinct—how can we help you?" Sango wanted to cringe a little from how secretarial she sounded, because that was definitely not the image she wanted to project, but she couldn't dwell on that at the moment.
"Yes, hello, so sorry to call on such short notice." The voice on the other end was pleasant in a distinctly phone-ready manner that Sango's was not. "I'm calling on behalf of Hitomi Kagewaki of Sasagami Iron. We've received notice of a rather pressing matter and we hope to communicate our questions in person. You see, our work is rather sensitive and we would rather any and all conversations be conducted quickly and discreetly. Would it be too much to ask if the precinct could send a representative over to discuss this?"
"Hold on just a moment, please."
Ken pursed his lips as Sango turned to him, with a hand over the phone's receiver. "I'd like to go there myself, Dad, but do you think you could spare some men? I'm obviously not planning on going alone."
"Are you sure it's the best idea for you to be going in the first place?" he replied.
"Yes? My team can stay behind to sort through our work, and I'd rather deal with this without any interference that might muck it up," she said, fighting back a scowl as she remembered Miroku's antics at the construction site.
"All right…but I'll be sending you in a private car along with Jirō and Satoshi just in case. Keep your phone on too, but communications should be restricted to texting us on our private channel."
Was there truly any need for an escort? It wasn't as if she was going somewhere particularly dangerous. The gesture felt more like an attempt at supervision to steer her away from potential muck-ups, or even babysitting, but whatever it was, Sango's hurt multiplied exponentially to the point of just nodding mutely. Did her father not trust her with this? What convinced him that she wasn't capable of handling this herself?
She would have to deal with it later, Sango thought, as she walked out briskly to the waiting car with directions supplied by Hitomi's assistant.
The ride took them to the edge of Marunouchi. Sango didn't usually traverse this area unless it was for work, and even then, that was rare. The sight of skyscrapers, shiny with metal and wealth, could be spotted well before they reached the river. The change in atmosphere was evident in the pedestrian fashion changing towards sleek suits that attested to the amount of money at play. While Sasagami Ironworks' headquarters was much more modest in height compared to its neighbours, its riverfront location was plenty enough to broadcast its weight.
Greeters uniformed in charcoal black suits and the company logo pinned to their lapels received them at a discreet side entrance, clearly meant for more private business dealings and the like. They announced their arrival into barely noticeable earpieces as Sango's group was led into the lobby via a short tunnel. Sango was impressed: stony walls evocative of old cobbling were complemented by black slate flooring. A metallic reception desk stood in front of a waterfall set into the wall, and on either side, clocks announcing the time in different financial centres around the world—Sango spied Zurich, London, New York, Hong Kong—framed the entire set as one that is reserved but with undeniable capital.
A woman emerged from behind a partition sporting a rather chic ensemble that made Sango very conscious of her earlier dash to get dressed. Nothing too fussy, but the deep magenta skirt suit, black high heels, and perfectly pressed button down were quite unlike the boring neutrals Sango knew most corporate lackeys to wear. A small string of black pearls around the woman's neck and two black pearl earrings capped off the outfit in a way that definitely pointed to a rather fashion-forward company compared to its competitors.
"Good morning," the woman said with a deep bow. "Inspector Tachibana, correct?"
"Y-yes. Good morning," Sango returned, with a slight bow of her own.
"You spoke on the phone with my colleague earlier. My name is Ogami Asuka, and my role is as President Hitomi's personal assistant. I'll take you to him straight away, though I request that you refrain from using your mobile during your time here, for confidentiality reasons. Should you require anything, feel free to ask me."
Sango, nodding, began to follow Ogami behind the partition. A private elevator lay in wait for them. Ogami stopped and bowed apologetically, explaining, "I'm afraid it would be best if only you came along, Inspector."
"Privacy reasons?" Sango looked back briefly at Jirō and Satoshi.
"Yes, and again, we apologise. We're simply trying to streamline things a bit here, as President Hitomi had to move a meeting for this, and it would be much simpler to pare this down to two people," Ogami recited as the press of a button opened up the elevator for them. Apparently, it wasn't something Sango could dispute, so all she could do was nod briefly in the men's direction before the doors closed.
It certainly felt pretty awkward standing silently. Sango was keenly aware of how unkempt she looked next to Ogami: her perfect posture, perfectly coiffed bun, gaze looking straight ahead with zero hints as to any sort of trepidation, that outfit…not even a sign of fatigue this early in the morning.
The elevator took them to the uppermost level. A perky looking secretary perched at a desk rang them in immediately to a large conference room lined with giant wall to wall windows and a spidery sort of chandelier reaching down from the ceiling. A side door hidden in the wall opened to reveal who Sango correctly guessed was the company president himself.
"Thank you very much, Asuka-san, Nakajima-san. I'll take it from here—oh, actually, please send in breakfast. I imagine that Inspector Tachibana hasn't had the time for it," he said with a smile, belying the bags lining his eyes and the slightly dishevelled look to his suit.
"Oh, you don't have to—" Sango exclaimed.
"Please, I insist. It's the least I can do for calling on such short notice…though I admit I haven't had any food myself," he said, laughing. His attitude shocked Sango, not having imagined that a businessman allowed himself to be given to such displays so freely, much less in front of strangers coming for rather serious circumstances.
Hitomi invited Sango into his office and bade her take off her shoes. Thankfully, there was a genkan for it, a rather unusual office add-on, but Sango appreciated the feeling of plush carpeting under her feet as they padded over to his desk. After sitting down, Ogami reappeared soon after, bearing a tray for two whose wafting scent prompted a sharp grumble from Sango's stomach. The dishes looked simple, but filling: miso soup with dried sardines, tea, rice, and sliced pears.
"Thank you," Sango murmured, with not a little sheepishness. Such a kind gesture was so unexpected.
Hitomi was still smiling. "As I said before, it's the least I can do. Please, feel free to eat while we talk."
Apparently, that was Ogami's cue to be dismissed once more, though Sango took care to eat as delicately as possible to avoid showing her eagerness for breakfast. Hitomi's thoughtfulness came as a pleasant surprise after the previous hubbub in the precinct. She felt herself relax now that food was settling in her stomach, and the beginning of the sun's rays climbing over the cityscape from the window's view gave her a new sense of energy. Hitomi kept smiling, albeit a bit sleepily, as he started to eat after Sango. He ignored her protests and cleared the tray off to a side once they both finished.
"So. As was relayed to you by phone, the video…" Hitomi trailed off with a sigh.
Sango clasped her hands in front of her, back ramrod straight, as she assumed her best police voice. "While the eighth understands the need for privacy, why the concerns about bugging?"
Hitomi glanced at the door. Then at Sango. His next sigh, deep, beleaguered, and sober, pulled at a heartstring Sango wasn't even aware of until then. "I'll try to be brief, Inspector: we're in a very precarious situation at the moment. We won the bid for the Olympic Village, and many of our competitors are not happy about it…they see us as too small, too inexperienced, to take on a project of this size. While I acknowledge that Sasagami has a ways to grow, it's not a reflection of our own capabilities. That doesn't mean the competition hasn't tried to find ways to undermine us every step of the way. And should news of this get out…" Hitomi's jaw closed with a click that seemed to startle him.
"I understand. However, that the crux of our investigation has prior incidents at play that seemingly weren't investigated, President. Why is that?" Sango attempted to say as gently as possible.
Hitomi's hand almost crept up to the back of his neck, but he seemingly caught himself on time and lowered it to the table. "Part of our social responsibility programme includes offering employment to those who would otherwise be rejected elsewhere. It extends to convicted criminals, addicts, a few foreigners who have little prospects. It's one of the ways we try to give back to the community. Sasagami came from almost nothing, and now that we have something, we can use it to help. We understand that our employees often have difficulties—"
"One incident was described as an assault that required minor surgery to fix."
"…So I heard. Look…I'm not trying to handwave it or anything of the sort, but our…circumstances meant we haven't always had the best experiences with law enforcement. I apologise for saying that."
Sango took a great deal of pride in her role—her identity—as a policewoman. She wanted to be offended at Hitomi's words. Wanted to scold him and communicate her incredulity that he would even try to tarnish the job's reputation, with that admittance of distrust, with the insinuation that such a great institution was anything but a paragon of goodness. And yet she somehow couldn't. Instead, Sango found herself perfectly silent, nodding at him to keep going.
"Sasagami deals with incidents internally. Unless they're too big and too dangerous for our own capabilities, we prefer to do things our own way to keep the company atmosphere safe and the integrity of our mission statement intact. The employee in question so far only has that one write-up on his file, from what I remember. The other man, unfortunately, has been the subject of several complaints from many female employees, so we are still looking into what exactly we can do when our first man doesn't seem to be too popular with his cohort, and there were no cameras on-site to document anything. But getting to this so-called kidnapping…"
A brief buzz made Hitomi shift ever so slightly in his seat. His smartphone hummed insistently with a barrage of text messages that lit up the screen with a glaring electronic glow. He muttered an apology to Sango under his breath as he swiped the notifications away and stashed his mobile in an underside drawer.
"As I was saying. We are trying to support our employee with an extended paid leave while the authorities look into his wife. As we conduct full background checks into every single one of our workers, we have a file that details a rather prolific record of criminal offenses. We can excuse most of those given his young age at the time, but the media and our competitors certainly won't: they will take it as a sign that we have been harbouring dangerous characters and sweeping their actions under the rug. It would destroy Sasagami's credibility. Risk our projects and our social programmes and everything we've worked to achieve…"
"I—we understand, President Hitomi," Sango assured firmly, confidently. A rush of sympathy filled her lungs as she tried to convey her encouragement, and the understanding she felt at his predicament. "The eighth is doing everything it can to get to the bottom of this and have justice served with the least amount of problems. That includes any media interference."
Hitomi's next smile was thin and wan. "I want to say I'm glad to hear that."
"As long as we cooperate fully and work diligently, there's no reason we shouldn't have this solved soon. But please, we need more information: lists of people who you think have a vested interest in this case, for better or for worse; any registered attempts of sabotage, Higurashi's file—"
"So that's his name…why did it slip my mind?" Hitomi mused. "I'll have Asuka-san send you a packet via email today. It'll be more discreet than having you leave with a physical paper trail if anyone's monitoring the entrance."
Sango wordlessly produced the precinct's card and handed it over to Hitomi, blushing the tiniest bit when she remembered to bow a little as she did so. He, in turn, slid a simple metal card case out of his suit pocket, popped it open, and gave her his own. Modest silver lettering spelling out 'Hitomi Kagewaki' shone briefly with the rising sun. His smile felt a little more genuine this time, even if red still rimmed his eyes and his wavy, mussed hair evidenced his doubtlessly sleepless night.
"Thank you very much, Inspector. I will make sure to keep in touch," he said. His teeth were surprisingly white.
Notes time!
Marunouchi is one of Tokyo's financial districts, ie, an economic hub full of offices of some of Japan's richest companies (and Japan headquarters of some foreign ones) involved in industries such as banking, automotive building, flight, insurance, etc. It has a long and storied history of being tied to the politically connected and extremely wealthy. Its name derives from its location outside the royal palace's moat; daimyō and other noblemen close to the government built their mansions there. So for someone to have an office in the likes of Marunouchi is a pretty big deal!
Sora News is a real news portal primarily marketed to English speakers interested in Japan. Odd how the precinct got calls from an English language portal, methinks…but then we also have to consider the likes of Livedoor, one of Japan's biggest websites and a very popular social media page for making individual blogs with. It got taken down by securities fraud in 2006 and was bought by LINE, another tech juggernaut that's basically the Japanese equivalent of whatsapp (but with cuter features and stickers) around 2010 and is now operated by them. Keep this in mind once the story proceeds…but Red Comb Gossip is definitely an original creation of mine. Interesting how a tabloid is one of the first to contact them over this, huh…
See you guys next time! Next chapter is actually pretty lighthearted in tone compared to this one so we can see some more team bonding.