STORY WARNINGS:
–Yaoi – Male/Male.
– Rating: Mature. ADULTS ONLY. Contains coarse language, explicit sexual content both consensual/non-consensual, forced/willing submission, bondage, BDSM, edging, safewords, aftercare, graphic violence, torture, adult themes, guilty pleasure fantasy where you want someone to be a bit too forceful.
A/N: I'm really happy that you liked my take on Asami! Phew haha XD Thank you for all the feels and even tears, I'm super touched that you were moved by his story!
So where do we go after that emotional rollercoaster? Onto the next, of course! ... Or, that's what I want to say as though I have a clue what I'm talking about. I actually want to go back to the drawing board at this point, I'm still in two minds about this next part. But that could just be the part of me that wants to turn this into a Disney-esque happily-ever-after number already... *dreamy dreamy...* Anyhows. Enough procrastinating – though most of that was writing later chapters so it's all good investment! ;) I'm going to go with the comet trail I cast from the start and just see what you think, because A leads to B leads to C and I really don't want to miss out on C! What's life without reaching for the stars? Or something like that! XD
Moreover, what's a story without cliffhangers? Or two? Or three or four or – how many has it been now? ;o) Well I guess that answers my wondering whether to give you a heads up about it, I almost dropped it on you out of the blue!
So here we go. Which camp were you in? ;P
~ Nyx ~
DISCLAIMER: The Finder series and all recognisable characters belong to Yamane Ayano sensei.
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Chapter 23
Friday, because in the end they never made it to Sion the previous day.
"Come up."
An expectant pause, then, "Yes, sirrrrr."
The pause was mirrored right back. "Is that all? No snarky objections about how you don't take orders from me?"
"Right back atchya. No pervy growlytones? 'Cos isn't that why you're calling me yourself, so you can do your rumbly thing about coming or riding the elevator shaft or –"
"Now there's an idea –"
"No."
"It was your –"
"No."
"You suggested –"
"No!"
"Killjoy."
Akihito's jaw dropped in a huff, although his mouth curled just a little. "I have plenty of joy, I'll have you know. An abundance of it. So much, in fact, it's turned my hair blond. Yeah, take that. I just happen to not be a perverted old man like you." He could be frank, within reason, alone in the vending machine alcove, within reason. Sagano and Nakatani waited just outside pretending to be part of the marble masonry. "I, unlike some, can actually last a car journey without kicking the secretary out and keep my hands to myself!"
So Akihito might have only managed a flimsy and rather breathy and entirely brief protest when Asami had started kissing him and his neck and the large hands were running over his chest and lower, oh sweet Jesus lower... Akihito cleared his throat. It was the principle of the thing! Plus it was already the second time that morning!
The first? He wasn't thinking about it. Nope. Not thinking. About the shower. At all...
"Since when do you have a secretary?" Asami puzzled.
Akihito stuck out his tongue but the effect was lost over the phone.
"I can think of better uses for that tongue, Akihito," Asami smirked.
Akihito's gaping was entirely serious this time. "You didn't even see that!" he cried, his eyes darting around to see if the bastard might be watching through a security camera or something.
"I know you well enough. Now get up here."
"I don't have time for –"
"Akihito," Asami broke in, horribly serious all of a sudden. "We need to talk. Come up."
Well, there went his joy. "Alright, alright, I'm coming," Akihito muttered. Grabbing the Pocky out of the machine, he headed for the elevators.
The noodle bar had ten swivel stools along the subway tunnel. It was easy to mask his approach what with everyone sitting with their backs to the concourse and with the lunchtime surge of people. Akihito plonked his folded arms down on the bar next to his intended target, perfectly timed with the slurp of noodles.
"Wassup, Mr Two-Faced Back Stabber."
Maybe Asami and his sister were onto something. There was something rather satisfying seeing the spurt of shock, though he would've preferred water next time. Watching noodles flying everywhere was kinda gross. He also felt a little sorry for the hardworking noodle bar owner who eyed them with an almighty frown.
"Takaba?" Yamazaki coughed out, surprise and guilt warring on his face.
Akihito's brow dragged down. That gruff voice had been a familiar staple for ten years. The stress lines had gained years of depth in the space of just two weeks. Or maybe the florescent lighting of the underground just made the detective look unnaturally older.
"Got a minute?"
"Uh –" Yamazaki glanced at his half full bowl.
"You're fucking kidding me," Akihito snapped, pushing off from the bar. "After the shit you pulled? I'm not asking, you dick." Hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, he stormed away.
"Takaba! Wait!"
The shop owner and others sitting at the bar and even a few passersby stared as the older man rushed to follow, his rumpled suit and mac flapping.
"Hold up!" The detective fell into step as they climbed the stairs to the exit. "I was only going to ask if I could get you lunch."
"After you were happy to believe you were putting me in danger? Fat chance."
Yamazaki pulled a frustrated face. "You know that's not what it was."
"Wasn't it? So I only imagined you trying to put me in the shithouse with Asami 'cos you cared more about locking him up than what happened to me? Is that what you're saying?"
"Nothing would've happened to you! We would've arrested Asami, like we'd been aiming for all along. I thought we were working together!"
Akihito stalled at the top of the stairs. "Don't fucking make me laugh, that had nothing to do with working together!" He peeled away around the corner and crossed the road. "I still haven't forgiven you. I wouldn't be talking to you right now if I didn't have to."
"Have to?"
They stopped in a narrow street behind a car. A black car. A gleaming black limo, in fact. Three men in black suits melted out of shadows and doorways, circling them. Another two men who'd been following them all along from the station brought up the rear, closing them off.
"What the hell is this?" Yamazaki demanded, spinning all around, feet braced defensively.
"You're giving me a minute, is what it is," Akihito told him coolly. "It's the least you can do for me. Get in." He rounded the limo and one of the men stepped forward to open the back door for him. He slid in without a backward glance.
"I suggest doing as he says," said the blond giant who'd followed them from the subway.
The circle of men closed in a step, then another.
Yamazaki glared at them all. "I'm a police officer with Tokyo PD Major Crimes. You should think carefully before you do anything stupid."
"Stupid how?" the giant asked. "Takaba-san extended you an invitation to talk. Perfectly harmless and perfectly within your rights to refuse, of course."
Yamazaki scoffed.
"If you have no wish to mend bridges, that is," the giant added.
Yamazaki simmered, clenching his jaw. He stood his ground for another few seconds before he relented, stepping around to the open door, eyeing them suspiciously all the while. He carefully ducked in, his eyes landing on a pair of perfectly polished black shoes, one leg crossed over the other.
"Pick a seat," came Akihito's voice.
The detective followed the shoes up to scowl at the shady businessman sitting beside Akihito. Yamazaki edged onto the long seat running the length of the limo. The giant folded himself in beside Yamazaki – close on his gun side, as though knowing he was armed. Opposite was a smaller man in wire-framed glasses.
The two on the back seat formed an odd picture, one in a pristine three-piece suit, the other in jeans and casual jacket. It had fallen open to reveal a t-shirt saying 'let me drop everything and work on your problem'. They sat with their shoulders touching, comfortable with the contact.
Their obvious closeness rankled, making Yamazaki's tongue sharp. "So you're his lap dog now, are you? Congratulations."
"Fuck you," Akihito threw back. "I do what I like. I don't take orders from anyone."
Asami smirked. "What he said."
The detective looked between them, hiding his surprise at the billionaire's tolerance, even amusement, at the punk's typical brashness.
"Well, I'm here. What do you want?" Yamazaki groused.
Akihito narrowed his eyes at his one-time friend and came right out with it. "Do you want me dead?"
He might have been amused at how taken aback the detective was if he wasn't still smarting so badly from Yamazaki's betrayal before.
"No! Geez, what the hell? Dead? You know I don't. What the heck is going on?"
"Well, see, people are trying to kill me, which you can see is a bit of a problem, can't you? There's a whole bunch of things I'm not gonna tell you 'cos you'll just go rabbiting off to Dick 1 and Dick 2 like last time and I don't trust you anymore –"
"Hey, that's not what hap–!"
"Can it," Akihito snapped. "I don't wanna hear it. What I do wanna hear about are the cases against Kitano and Ozumi, do you remember them?"
Yamazaki nodded unsurely, throwing a wary look at Asami and his two men as though expecting them to get all trigger happy. "Yeah, we brought down the Oyabun of the Ozumi group and was it four? five? of his top men. Closed several of Kitano's sweat shops."
"Then maybe you'll also remember that I wasn't named on any of the case files or evidence trail for the arrest warrants, remember that too?"
The detective glanced at Asami again. "I can't disclose classified –"
"No! Fucking hell no, you're not gonna pull that one!" Akihito exploded. "Asami is the only reason I'm still alive and you don't know shit, so you can damn well swallow your beef with him and disclose any fucking classified case details we need so no one ends up with a fucking bullet in their heads! Do you remember I wasn't named anywhere?"
Yamazaki was looking increasingly unsettled. "Yeah," he said hesitantly, then again, more surely, "yeah, of course I remember. We specifically kept your name out of it 'cos both those groups had a reputation for getting nasty. We didn't even use your usual alias." He looked again at the others, but whatever signs of surprise he was expecting, he got none.
"Did anyone work with you on it? Officially or on the down low, anyone who might've picked up my name?"
"No. I just gave you a code like any other CI. There were no names anywhere, not even in my own notes."
Akihito glanced at Asami, who gave him the slightest of nods without taking his eyes off the detective. Akihito's face darkened. "Then I gotta ask, who d'you rat me out to?"
Yamazaki stared hard. "What?"
"You heard me. The Kitano and Ozumi Groups both sent hitmen out for me, apparently for unpaid dues that can only be repaid with my life."
"How the hell would you know that?" His pointed look at Asami said he knew where the intel came from.
"That's privileged information," Akihito retorted, "and I'm not telling you, I don't trust you anymore. Especially now. 'Cos they got my name from somewhere, and it's looking more and more like that somewhere was you."
"Now wait a moment," Yamazaki fumed with heated denial. "That's like soliciting the hit myself! I wouldn't do that, you punk!"
Akihito couldn't help drawing a parallel with when the detective had tried to force his hand in front of Asami. He sat back, crossing his arms. "Wouldn't you?"
"Good god, you don't actually think it was me?" Yamazaki exclaimed.
Asami interceded for the first time. "Could anyone have figured it out? Overheard you in conversation? A room layout that might have meant they were standing closer than you realized, or any ventilation shafts nearby that might have carried sound? Anywhere outside?"
Yamazaki was shaking his head to each one. "No. I – I don't think so. We were always careful."
"Anywhere his name was linked to the code you used? Anyone have access to your CI list?" Asami suggested.
"I never put Takaba's code or name on it. I didn't need to."
Something about Asami sharpened. "So he was missing?"
The detective nodded carefully.
"Any other CIs you omitted?"
A shake this time.
"So anyone who knew you or how you worked would have known that the one and only missing CI code would belong to the one that you worked so closely with that you didn't need to include him on that list?"
Yamazaki froze. And paled. Went rather white, in fact.
"Do share," Asami prompted acerbically.
The weathered detective was staring at Akihito like he knew he'd fucked up. "I – I let someone see the list. Maybe a week ago? But it was just the one time. There was an informant we both used but he couldn't track them down, he wanted to double check the last known address. He – he asked if it was the complete list. He asked twice."
Akihito couldn't speak.
"Who?" Asami demanded.
"But it might not be –"
"Who?"
"Sudoh."
"What?" A burst of breath, more air than sound. But then Akihito found his voice. "Dick 2?" he exclaimed, loud and disbelieving. "You told Dick 2?!"
"I didn't tell him! I kept you off the list precisely because I was trying to keep you out of it! But – it's just –" Yamazaki shook his head. "Shit, Takaba! You know I'd never intend for anything like this to happen! I'll straighten it all out. I'll get to the bottom of whatever he's –"
"You've done quite enough, don't you think?" Asami interrupted, as cold and immovable as a glacier. "We'll handle this. You'll carry on with whatever your schedule is, work on your cases as usual, annoy whoever it is that you usually annoy, and leave this alone. Are you able to do that, at least?"
Yamazaki nodded slowly as if in a daze. "Shit... Takaba, I – I never meant –" He searched for words, something, anything that could make this ok. But how could there be? The fact that it wasn't intentional was hardly justification for getting a load of crazy-ass fuckers thirsting for Takaba's blood. The last two weeks had given him a lot of time to reflect and he was painfully aware of what he'd done, ten years of partnership destroyed in one moment of blinkered carelessness. And now this...
Akihito hated the weathered detective for looking so haggard and old, 'cos it made Akihito feel more sad than anything else. It would've been so much easier to just be angry. "Well at least it wasn't on purpose this time," he muttered. He felt so tired. He wanted to hibernate in Asami's bed and not emerge until this was all over. "You should go now."
Yamazaki paused, nodded. He started shifting to the door, but turned back one last time. "I'm sorry, Takaba."
"... Bye, Yama-san."
Yamazaki found himself bundled out by the blond giant. He stood alone in the empty street as the limo sped away.
Kirishima rolled down the privacy screen as they pulled away. Kuroda turned around up front where he'd been listening in, beside Sagano at the wheel.
Asami's gaze was so intense Akihito wondered if he could roast s'mores in it.
"Sudoh Shuu," reverberated the gathering storm clouds. Asami's sharp mind assessed and weighed and condemned.
But the hand on Akihito's thigh was warm, the thumb circling gently as Akihito let them take care of it. He felt like he'd drained all his energy reserves dealing with Yamazaki.
Suoh kicked them off. "Is he an outlier or knowingly involved?"
"More likely puppet than puppeteer," Asami replied, not that that would garner any more mercy.
They held their tongue until he rolled back the thunder, contained until he deemed it time to let loose.
"So," Asami considered aloud, "V1P3R investigates Akihito, sees an opportunity through Sudoh, directly or via Yamazaki, and gathers names of those with a personal agenda against Akihito."
"That fits," Kuroda seconded. "V1P3R's intel would have come through Sudoh and through Z4m4 M1r0's articles in Spotlight."
"But how did V1P3R connect Takaba as Z4m4 M1r0?" Kirishima pointed out.
"Sudoh could have provided that too," Asami considered quietly, already mapping out possibilities. He prompted the Prosecutor for an update. "You have eyes on them all?"
"As much as we can," Kuroda reported. "Solitary inside for the Ozumi and Daigoku heads, surveillance outside for a lot of the major players across all four groups. The prison wardens are containing as much communication as they can, external lines are being monitored."
"Be ready to move some muscle into protective custody," Asami ordered. "I don't care who, anyone convenient from two of those groups. Have them ready on intercept when I meet with Sudoh. We'll drop Akihito off at Sion first, I don't want him anywhere close when we draw a line under this."
Kuroda looked up sharply at Asami spelling things out so clearly in front of the brat. But Kirishima and Suoh simply nodded acknowledgement and started knocking remarks back and forth to coordinate as they always did.
"I'm on Matsui –"
"I have locales –"
"– we can draw Sudoh out alone with a tip-off –"
"– three venues currently secured, I'll update with dispatch teams –"
"– Matsui has plausible deniability –"
"– just need nearest the intersection point. Kuroda?"
The Prosecutor looked between them all, at the two openly strategizing in front of Takaba and Asami's total lack of concern over it, spared a moment to take in this extraordinary development, and got with the picture. "I'm on it. Protective custody and transfer routes."
Kuroda was dropped off on a quiet road several minutes later. Kirishima moved up front with Sagano. Suoh remained in the back but adopted the selectively deaf and blind routine that the bodyguards were becoming extremely proficient at.
It was almost like being alone with Asami. Akihito fidgeted, feeling that funny shyness again. It had come on bit by bit the previous day. Things somehow felt different between them. New different. Better different. But at the same time like nothing had changed.
Akihito cleared his throat, staring out the windows. "That sucked." He relaxed a little against Asami as he leaned back.
"We're getting close," Asami said.
"Yeah." Akihito nodded. He hoped. "But it still sucked."
"You handled it well."
Akihito snorted. "Having a human lie detector to hand was handy."
Asami rubbed Akihito's thigh. "Is that all I'm good for?" Teasing but gently, knowing Akihito was rattled.
"Your limo makes a handy mobile interrogation room."
"Doubly handy."
Akihito murmured something but trailed off quickly. He took a breath. "What're you going to do to Sudoh?"
Flint entered Asami's gaze. "He'll answer to me."
"Which means what?"
Asami regarded him. "Precisely that. His... infatuation with me has been useful till now and I've exploited it to suit my own ends, but he's far overstepped the mark if he's put you in danger. He will answer for what he's done."
This convoluted muddle again... How was this meant to be ok with Akihito? Knowing what was coming, premeditated, and against a detective at that... But Asami would have no forgiveness for anyone who endangered those close to him, Akihito understood that now. What was more, Akihito had no desire to change him.
"Just... be careful, alright?"
Would he know, he wondered, if he was being swallowed up in Asami's darkness? Because as Asami looped an arm around him and hauled him close, it didn't feel like darkness. It felt like sanctuary.
Asami?
Sudoh did a double take, backtracking to the street he'd just passed. But by then, all he saw was the flap of coat tails disappearing around the next corner.
Black coat tails.
Sudoh hurried down the street. He rounded the corner shop and caught a glimpse of someone's back disappearing around the next turn. But even with the late setting sun in his eyes it was a very distinctive back. That stature could be nobody else.
Pleased, he rushed after Asami – but then someone ahead of him took the same turn, ducking into doorways, hiding his face under a hoodie.
Sudoh broke into a run.
He caught up with them in an alley, Asami looking bored at the tiny knife being waved in his face.
"Hey!" Sudoh knew the wannabe mugger – it was the CI who'd just called him, in fact. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He strode between them, shoving the scrawny guy back.
His CI took one last look at them and legged it.
"Are you alright, Asami-sama? Are you hurt?" Sudoh patted over Asami's shoulders and arms. "What happened?"
Asami not-so-subtly stepped out of reach, his eyes narrowed fractionally. They cleared in recognition. "Detective Sudoh? What are you doing here?"
"I thought I saw you and –"
"You were following me?" Asami asked sharply.
Sudoh laughed nervously. "Nothing so creepy. I'm here on business actually, I was meant to be meeting someone. But uh, it looks like he didn't show." He cleared his throat. "This isn't your usual neck of the woods, Asami-sama."
Asami's face twitched in annoyance. "I was carjacked."
"Carjacked? Your limo?" Awfully concerned, Sudoh pulled out his notepad, only to be waved away.
"There's no need to get him into that kind of trouble."
"Him?" Sudoh thought he was terribly clever. "You mean Takaba?"
Asami paused, his discomfort clear. "I appreciate the assistance. Have a good day, Detective." He started turning away.
"Wait! Ah, Asami-sama, just a second." Sudoh's face – clearly a man but with attractive lines – arranged into concern and care. "I'd like to help, if something's troubling you. Off the record if you prefer."
Asami appeared to consider the offer seriously for a moment before he shook his head. "I'm sure he'll leave me in peace now. A car is a small price to pay." He took a step away again.
"Is he causing difficulties? I don't like to see you troubled, Asami-sama."
As Asami still hesitated, Sudoh placed a supportive hand on his arm. Always so strong, firm with muscle. Sudoh wished he could touch it every day. What a chance this was. But it was about to walk away. He leapt on the opportunity – not looking a gifthorse in the mouth and all that.
"I might know people who can help, who can give you more... surety."
Asami eyed him hard. "I don't need to go to such extremes." His dismissal was cold, but the dangerous undercurrent shivered deliciously through Sudoh. Asami took another step away.
Sudoh rushed headlong to stop him. "I didn't explain myself properly, Asami-sama. There are ways to incentivize a person, with harmless pressure or encouragement..." He let it hang, the proverbial carrot.
"Pressure?"
Sudoh worried at his lip, letting his tongue dart out. Nothing explicit, just a glimpse. Would Asami bite? "Name-dropping a few particular names would do it, people Takaba has ticked off in the wrong way, who'd return the favour tenfold if they knew his real identity. You only need reassure him that you would keep his name safe in exchange for his leaving you in peace."
"Takaba doesn't know anyone like that."
"They're dangerous people."
"Dangerous? Is that what you call the rabble he associates with?" Looking thoroughly unimpressed, Asami turned away.
"Yakuza," Sudoh added hurriedly.
Asami paused. "You must have the wrong person. Takaba Akihito doesn't associate with yakuza."
"Not in that way. He's helped throw a lot of them in jail and he wasn't always on the right side of the law doing it. He has a record."
Asami shook his head, started to walk away, his steps purposeful. "Now I know you're pulling my leg. I had him investigated, there's no record."
"They're redacted!" Sudoh insisted, hurrying after. "His records are kept under wraps by law because of the people he acted against. Nothing would have turned up with an ordinary background check."
Asami had stopped, watching him hard. Then, with a quick glance around, he stepped closer, dropping his voice. "You know this for a fact?"
Sudoh saw something glinted in Asami's gaze – was he impressed, perhaps? Sudoh smiled, letting his eyes shine. "I've seen it myself, the complete records. I can be very resourceful."
"Indeed." Asami scanned around them again. They were still very much alone. "What kind of names?"
Crunch time. Sudoh hesitated, knowing there was no turning back from this.
Asami didn't rush him. He pulled out a box of cigarettes from his pocket and drew one out with his lips. Sudoh immediately stepped in with a lighter. Purposefully not extending his arms, he revelled in the closeness as Asami tipped his head to light up.
"I can't imagine what kind of names could help me against Takaba," Asami said softly. They were still only inches apart. Neither stepped away.
"Try Daigoku," Sudoh told him, equally quiet, sharing in this special confidence. "And Nishizuma."
"Nishizuma?" Asami inhaled, exhaled aside. "The men were from the Nishizuma Group, that time at Takaba's apartment." Golden eyes glittered at Sudoh, so close, that enthralling focus. "You've been helping me all this time, haven't you Sudoh-san?" Not Detective Sudoh, but Sudoh-san. Speaking man to man, real acknowledgement after all these years.
Sudoh was barely blinking. "I'll always watch your back, Asami-sama. That worthless punk, I've always disliked him. I knew he'd be up to no good as soon as one of my colleagues gave him your name and true enough, he tried to meddle in your affairs. My friends in Cyber Crimes were only too happy to receive the tip-off, they'd been after him for a while. But then he ended up at Sion and got his claws into you... You deserve to be free, to be with someone more worthy."
"You got him arrested," Asami remarked under his breath. Sudoh tried to place the tone of voice – was it a touch of wonder? It seemed a bit off for that. But then Asami's next question trumped any other worries. "Someone worthy? Are you suggesting yourself?"
Bathed in the last flare of the sun before it bid farewell for the day, Asami's gaze glittered. Sudoh could barely take breath. "If you wish it. I'll be whatever you want me to be, Asami-sama. I would do anything for you."
Asami looked beyond Sudoh. Softly, that Sudoh had to lean in to hear, he murmured, "And if I want Takaba gone?"
Shadows clouded that brilliant gaze, clouds of turmoil. This great man would never look so troubled again, not if Sudoh had anything to say about it. "I know someone. Actually I don't know who it is," he amended regretfully, but was quick to reassure, "but I know they're very interested in taking Takaba out of the picture. It's only a matter of time."
"Soon?"
"I wish I could be more specific but I'm not privy to the details. With my position, I haven't been actively involved."
Asami took a long drag and exhaled it over Sudoh's head. And with that he seemed to come to a decision. "This way," he said, leading down the alley and around the corner.
"Where are we going?" Sudoh tried to contain his excitement. He'd made great inroads, he just knew it –
Around the corner was a limo. The one that was meant to have been carjacked. With that giant of a bodyguard waiting beside it. There were also two prisoner transport vans, the white paint standing out in sharp relief behind the limo.
"What is this?" Sudoh demanded. He took a step back but was prevented by more guards appearing behind him. "Asami-sama?"
"Yes, remind me, Suoh?" Asami prompted. "How does this go again?"
The big guard signalled his men who went to open up the vans. "There was a mole in Major Crimes working with the yakuza, who arranged for certain prisoners to break free during transportation. But he miscalculated and mixed two opposing sides together."
The men began guiding out prisoners who were clearly under the influence of some drug, the way they stumbled and blinked, not really with it. The sun finally sunk below the horizon, dipping them in shadows, the temperature dropping noticeably.
"They engaged in a shootout that tragically took all lives," the bodyguard continued as handcuffs were removed and guns were placed in the prisoners' hands.
Under the roaring rush of horror, Sudoh met Asami's eyes. The golden gaze was livid, practically bleeding red as Asami finally unleashed his wrath.
"Takaba Akihito is under my protection, Detective. An attack against him is an attack against me."
"But – Takaba! He's nothing! He has no manners or refinement, not even a proper job –"
"You believe these are the qualities that matter to me? How about having someone killed to serve one's own lust, how do you believe I rate that particular depth of self-interest?"
Sudoh blinked, seeming to realize how wrong he'd been all along. "You don't know what Takaba's done! He was investigating you –"
"On the contrary, I know everything. Hasn't it occurred to you, Detective, there must be a reason that I protect him? I will not relinquish him to anyone. Not to V1P3R, not to any number of hitmen, and certainly not to the likes of you."
Asami took hold of the nearest thug's hand, gun and all, pointed it at Sudoh, and shot him messily – with calculated precision. The first shattered a knee cap, provoking an anguished cry. Sudoh collapsed onto his knees, generating yet another howl. The second bullet sank into the shoulder, three more into the torso. The thug simply stood there, swaying and blinking blearily and barely registering anything.
Sudoh coughed, choked up blood, and crumbled.
Asami stood over him. "You said you would do anything for me, Detective. Well, now you can die."
Losing grip with reality, Sudoh's bloody lips broke into a smile, his eyes glazing over. "With my –" he coughed, more blood gushing out – "last breath – set you – free –"
More blood and he choked, and choked –
"What do you mean?" Asami dropped close, grabbing his hair. "Sudoh!"
But consciousness bled out and Sudoh was gone, blank eyes staring into the sky.
Asami stormed for the limo. "Back to Sion. Now!"
"You have your orders, finish up here," Suoh instructed his men as he ran after his boss.
No sooner had they peeled out of the alley – slowing just enough to avoid leaving tire burns as they rejoined the main road and racked up speed again – than Suoh received an update through is ear com.
"Sir... Sion's under attack."
Wailing from low and sliding high, over and over, the emergency siren blared through Sion HQ. They all jumped, looking uncertainly at each other. Not the usual fire alarm, they had no idea what this was. They'd never heard it before.
"This is an emergency evacuation. Make your way calmly and quickly to the nearest emergency evacuation point. This is an emergency evacuation..."
The disembodied voice came over a sound system no one had known existed. The Tech guys all glance at each other, then at Ogawa, who looked at the bodyguards by the door. Sagano and Nakatani were already coming towards Akihito to form a closer defence. Yumi threw a questioning look, which Akihito returned with a shrug and shake of the head.
"Let's get going then," Ogawa said, injecting some brevity, and confidence, despite being as unsure as everyone else.
They all climbed the stairs to the foyer to find it packed with people.
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Sagano was muttering into his wrist mike with quiet urgency. "Find out who pulled the alarm."
The foyer was packed with the whole building trying to leave at once. They shuffled into the congregation of staff bottlenecking through the revolving doors. Someone opened the side doors and the traffic jam eased just a little.
But a scream rent the air, shrieking and full of terror. It was somewhere at the front of the doors. Another joined in, then a third –
The thudding blast of a semi-automatic ripped the air. Bolting in panic, people ran helter skelter, not knowing where they were going, where was safe, their screams and yells adding to the cacophony of the sirens.
This was Tokyo. There was no frigging way that Akihito had managed to stumble into yet another gun fight by coincidence. They were after him.
The guards were of like mind. Sagano caught his arm and drew him towards the wall, pushing his head down. Nakatani scoped out for the attackers from behind, his slightly taller height giving him a better view over the panicked rush of heads.
"Secure room," Sagano yelled at Akihito, pushing him towards the stairwell. "Closest one's on B1."
A rush of people collided into them.
"Keep going!" Nakatani shouted over the mass of heads as they got separated. He pushed through to try and catch up.
But the gunshots kept up, sharp echoes from multiple places in the foyer and impossible to pinpoint their origins, and people kept coming, everyone frantically shoving for exits. The approach to the stairwell became a dangerous crush of desperation. Sagano kept a tight grip on Akihito's arm, then around his waist in a bid to keep Akihito close. Other guards found them and formed a perimeter around Akihito, and their tight group shuffled through against the onslaught of panicked people. But then another rush of people surged in their terrified frenzy, breaking through and scattering their little group.
Akihito lost sight of the guards in the pandemonium. If it had been Blond Tank he would have spotted the giant in the crowd, but he couldn't see the others.
"Takaba!" he heard.
"Sagano! Nakatani!"
"Takaba!"
He craned to see as he was pushed to and fro by the heaving mass of terrified people.
Someone grabbed his arm. He jumped, yanking his arm free, only to find it was Ogawa.
"We have to get out of here!"
Ogawa grabbed his arm again and started pulling him towards the back of the building. But Akihito suddenly didn't know who to trust. All he knew was that hitman were here for him again, and Ogawa was insistent on steering him in a particular direction...
He yanked himself free. Ogawa turned to him in surprise, shocked at the suspicion and fear shadowing the usually cheerful face.
"What're you doing? There's no time!"
Akihito was shaking his head, backing away.
"Come on!" Ogawa reached for him again –
Akihito threw himself in the opposite direction. He squeezed and elbowed and shoved his way through the throng of panicked employees, sometimes being washed along in the flow, sometimes wedging his way through, ducking as a gun went off seemingly only metres away.
"Takaba?" Ogawa was still trying to follow.
As Akihito frantically looked around for an escape from him as well as the gunfire, someone else bumped into him from the side.
"Takaba!"
It was Mitarai and Yumi, clinging to each other. He grabbed onto them, the only way to stay together in the heaving mass of desperation.
"They're shooting!" Yumi shouted, shrill with panic. "At the front! They've got guns!"
"Come on," Mitarai yelled, and continued drawing her towards the stairwell. "We can get out through the parking levels."
B1, Sagano had said. Maybe if Akihito made his way there, Sagano or Nakatani would find him or he'd bump into some other guards. He helped push them towards the stairs, keeping Yumi between him and Mitarai to buffer her from the worst of the blows as everyone knocked into everyone else.
The crush was worst at the single doorway to the stairs, squeezing, pushing, mashed to half their size – then they were through, bursting out onto the landing and then hurrying down the crowded stairwell.
It was quieter here, the sirens and gunfire muted, no one screaming, just the drumming of dozens of pairs of shoes on the linoleum-covered stairs.
"Akihito-kun?" came Yumi's voice from a little further ahead.
He spotted her worried face peering back at him. "Coming!" he called back.
Mitarai and Yumi pushed out through the doors on B1 where most people seemed to be headed. Akihito followed along the landing –
He was grabbed from behind, dragged roughly back through a service door that was opened just enough to let him through.
"The fuck –?"
A heavy blow to the side of his skull – pain bolted though his head and down his back. He cried out, stunned, as his vision flooded with sticky darkness, tunnelling on the slit of light closing off as the service door swung closed...
It was the still, silent reactions that worried them the most. The fury that much more potent, that could only be calmed by utter carnage.
In this instance, the guards deemed it entirely warranted.
"I offer my most humble and sincere apology. There is no excuse."
Sagano delivered the formal phrase with utmost gravity, and it would have been repeated by Nakatani and the six other guards all bowing from the waist if Asami hadn't waved dismissal.
"We'll deal with this later. The first priority is to find Akihito."
"I've lost contact with three teams," Suoh reported. "Their posted locations might give us the outbound trajectory."
"Or way in," Asami reasoned. "Casualties?"
"Three confirmed dead. Two heading to hospital, one injured but continuing the search. Two unknown."
"Contact Ishida. I want SATCOM access on standby."
Kirishima nodded and retreated to a far corner to place a call.
Ogawa's already startled expression became even more stunned. From military satellite communications it was only a quick deduction to Ishida, the Defence Minister.
Cigarette smoke curled around Asami as he turned to the Tech head, standing close, the sharp golden gaze boring through Ogawa's head. "Ogawa-san, time is short so I'll be brief. Takaba has been taken. Are you involved?"
Ogawa's eyes widened further. Almost in a daze, he shook his head slowly.
"I thought not," Asami acceded. "Assist my men in every possible capacity to help find him. Try and think of everything and anything that might help, legal or otherwise. There'll be no ramifications. Do you understand?"
"I – I think so. But shouldn't the police –"
"Takaba's life is in danger, we don't have time for legalities and red tape. Will you do whatever it takes to get him back or should I find someone else?"
Ogawa blinked at the man looming over him, the real concern betrayed in his harsh demeanour. If this powerful man was so concerned... Ogawa's brow set in decision. He nodded. "I'll do it."
"Akihito."
"Wh – why're you in here?"
"I've been meaning to ask, why was my pillow warm when I returned home yesterday?"
"Uh..."
"And smelling of you?"
"Whaaa... What pillow?"
"The one you were evidently sleeping with when I was away. Were you holding it close, imagining it was me?"
"O-of course not!"
"No, I don't suppose it was hard enough, was it?"
"Stop with that – haaa! Get off! This is not the time! Besides you just got dressed for work!"
"Then peel it off me. My clothes are all wet, I need assistance."
"Assist yourself, you baka. It's your fault for groping me when I'm trying to shower."
"Trying's about right. You missed a spot. Right here –"
"Ahh! Where do you think you're touchinnnnnhhhgg!"
"You can't tell? Need me to touch you some more?"
"Aaahhh... You... hnnn..."
"And how about here?"
"... Gaaahhh... You... This is all your fault... Get over here. And take these off. You can do it yourself, you're the one who got them all wet."
"Mmm want a show, do you? Who's the pervy one now?"
"Baka, that's not what I – argh, fine. Give me a show then. I'll sit right here and you can strip for me. Ha! How d'you like that?"
"Perfect. That's it, Akihito, keep your eyes on me. See every inch of me. You want to lick me, don't you? All down my chest..."
"..."
"How about down here?"
"Jesus Christ, you're ridiculous..."
"Ridiculously hot, you mean."
"Ridiculously big headed."
"Big elsewhere too."
"I rest my case."
"Sure you don't want a piece of this? Right here? I'm ... sure it would... feel so much better... if you..."
"... Oh for fuck's sake, gimme that."
"Gimme? Is that any way to speak about –"
"Stop talking, you ridiculous, ridiculous bastard, and just lemme – mmmhpphh – mmmm –"
"How did they get in?"
Asami paced the meeting room he'd commandeered, glancing frequently at Ogawa working on his laptop.
"Looks like an inside job, sir," Suoh replied. "They used a service entrance. Perimeter security footage show the gunmen heading straight there so they knew someone would leave it unlocked for them. But internal footage has been wiped so we need to pull up the backups, they're not immediately –"
"Ah, sir? Sirs?" Ogawa was half turned towards them though his eyes were still focused on his screen. "I was just starting to back-track the gunmen's route and found this."
It was a CCTV view of the corridor leading off from the service entrance. They saw the back of a person in maintenance personnel uniform and cap, it could have been any number of employees, male or female.
"I uh, borrowed access to the security archives. They deleted the surface file but we still had this, since you upped protocols to hourly backups. This is the same door –"
Ogawa's voice trailed off as the unknown person checked up and down the corridor. But the camera was directly behind them, obscuring their face. Retrieving things from their pocket, the person removed the cover of the card reader and replaced the computer chip inside. It took barely a minute. They pushed the door ajar, checking it opened freely, before pulling it closed again.
"They disabled the electronic lock," Ogawa muttered. The two tall men were ominously silent as they watched.
The person checked along the corridor again and replaced the lid. They tested their own security pass, checking the card reader still beeped green for the standard five seconds before deactivating. Unless someone tried opening the door without using their card, they wouldn't have known any different.
That was when the person turned, facing the camera directly as they walked back down the corridor.
"Oh my God..." Ogawa gasped.
Someone was hammering his head. Everything ached, his muscles, his bones. Vision was a blurry mess. Hazy. Sound jarred him in fractured waves, distorted and distant.
"... a hundred kilos..."
"... narrow margin..."
"... plenty..."
"... more ..."
"... these rats, idiot..."
"... but the whole..."
"... up to here..."
"... you're done?"
"Yeah, here. Put it back in there."
There was a clang of tools.
Akihito screwed his eyes shut, curling into a ball – only he couldn't. He was lying on his side, his wrists tied behind his back. Not like how Asami did it, with a silk tie or padded leather. It felt like they'd used zip ties. Thin hard plastic bit into flesh, grating on bone. It forced him lucid.
"You still going with this? Everything else is a go."
"We can't have everyone painting him like a saint in his obituary, can we? You're always so impatient."
"I've been patient for months, haven't I?"
Now that his head was starting to clear, Akihito could hear them better. There were two voices. He could hear – what was that, water? And something hard, hollow, knocking haphazardly and gently against each other.
"Barely. You wanted me to blow the fucker's brains out."
"Yeah, but I've played nice all this time."
"You're a real hero."
That water – slapping, but not like in a bath tub. Actually he could smell the sea. Were they on a beach? But it didn't smell that fresh, mixed with diesel and other manufactured smells. The rough concrete he was lying on carried its own stink too. Or was that plaster? Fume central, ugh.
"Yes I am, as a matter of fact. It was nauseating. Bleurgh!"
"Don't you dare hurl on me."
"Like you would've been any different. You've already given him a good wallop, must've been satisfying."
A horrifying chill swept through Akihito that had nothing to do with the cold. He knew that voice. There was no mistaking it.
"More than you can imagine."
"I thought you'd killed him. All that blood. I'd have been seriously pissed off with you if you had."
Akihito knew who V1P3R was. How could he have been so blind?!
He thought he'd remained still but something must have given him away.
"Oh look, sleeping beauty's come around."
Footsteps preceded the familiar face. It wasn't a smile he knew too well, though. They didn't usually smile at him. Especially not like this, gloating and vicious.
"Hey, Takaba. Nice of you to join us."
Akihito swallowed bile. "Mitarai."
"Well?"
"Not yet, sir. I'm sorry."
"But you found Akihito's phone," Asami ground out. Not that that had helped, discarded in one of Sion's service elevators.
"Because it was on. Mitarai's phone is switched off, I can't track it. I'm sure Takaba could think of something, but... Well actually, there might be someone who can."
"Then bring them in!"
"There's just one issue. Inoue Yumi, she's been temping with us on the Helpdesk and she's a white hat hacker too. But she –" Ogawa stared at a folder full of doc files. "It looks like she's been gathering information on Takaba – his routine through the day, different kinds of hacks he's talked about and how he did it, a load of things. It's like she's been keeping tabs on him."
"You have her location?"
"Right here. I pinged her cell, she's with this group of employees here." Ogawa pointed at the blueprint he'd pulled up, at one of the meeting rooms being used by emergency services to process witnesses.
Asami gave Suoh a look. The big guard slipped out the room.
Ogawa swallowed. He prayed he'd never end up on the sharp end of this man's wrath.
The employees were being interviewed only one floor down and it wasn't long before the guard returned.
"Ogawa-san?" Yumi saw her boss first. Then, "A-Asami-sama?"
Asami took her by the arm and pushed her none-too-gently into a swivel chair. He leaned over her, his hands on the armrests.
"Where is Akihito?"
Eyes huge, she stared in obvious alarm. "Akihito-kun? I – I don't know."
Asami stared for a long moment. "When did you last see him?"
"In the foyer, when the – the people started shooting. No wait, after that, he was there when we headed down to the parking levels. But we got separated."
"So you don't know where he is?"
"No." She was pale. "Is he ok? Has something happened?"
Asami's gaze remained hard. "There are people trying to kill Akihito –" her face dropped in horror – "Those gunmen were after him and now he's missing. I can only assume they have him. Are you working with them?"
"No. What? No!"
"Then why were you tracking him?" Asami finally released the chair and stood back, indicating the screen with all her files.
"Tracking? But I wasn't tra – oh those? They're just – I'm writing a feature on him."
"A feature?"
"He's DigiH4wk. He's a celebrity in the hacking world. But no one knows much about him, he doesn't hog the limelight or give interviews but... he's brilliant, in so many ways. I just wanted to do an article on him. I just... I admire him..."
She trailed off as Asami's gaze burned into her.
Ogawa stared too as though she was mad. "Does Takaba know?" he asked.
"No," she squirmed. "I was going to speak to him after I'd written it, to make sure he was ok with it. I wasn't going to publish it if he wasn't! It wouldn't be anything invasive, just about how he likes Pocky, and the funny things we've talked about –"
"Can you locate a phone that's switched off?" Asami cut in.
Yumi was caught with her mouth open mid-sentence, but a lightbulb lit. "Akihito-kun said something once, about remote program controls and how a scarily high proportion was possible, I'm sure he mentioned location tracking. Even if the phone's off, depending on the ware it can still pull juice from the battery and send a signal. Unless the battery's actually been physically disconnected, that is, but that's harder with smartphones these days so –"
Asami pushed her chair in front of Ogawa's laptop, who hurriedly pushed away to make room.
"Do it. Now."
"Of course. I've got his number –"
"No. Find Mitarai."
"Mitarai?" She blanched at the murderous look Asami gave her. "Oh no..." She didn't waste time with useless questions, quickly starting to tap away on the keys to find the software she needed. "I'll find him, sir, I promise. I'll find him. Oh god, Akihito-kun, please be alright..."
Akihito struggled to a sitting position, about all he could manage with his wrists bound tightly behind him. His head swayed alarmingly, not that he let on. "You're V1P3R?"
Mitarai grinned, gleeful but cold. Hateful. "In the flesh. You never guessed it, did you Takaba? Or should I say, Z4m4 M1r0."
"You?"
"I know, right? The idiot who can supposedly only handle the most basic computing stuff and the dumbest of the bunch. Surprise!"
Akihito pulled his legs in and crossed them for balance. The world was seriously pitching. "You're V1P3R?"
Mitarai rolled his eyes. "So we've just established. Did we knock a screw loose?"
Akihito was mostly buying time as he slowly focused through his wavering vision and nausea. But he could hear Mitarai getting annoyed and at a time like this he'd score cheap points wherever he could, thank you very much. "But... you?"
Mitarai's amusement was diminishing fast, Takaba's continued disbelief starting to grate. "It's not that surprising. The dumb act was precisely that, an act. I take it as a compliment that my guise was so convincing."
"Is that what you say to your friend here to save face," Akihito scoffed, "so he doesn't figure out you're just a script kiddie?"
The so-called friend laughed from behind. "Good one."
"You don't even know what that is!" Mitarai complained.
"Don't need to, your face says it all. He really winds you up, doesn't he? Almost worth keeping him around just for that."
There was something familiar about the second voice too. Akihito turned as if to look back at him, taking the chance to scope out the area under the dotted pools of lamp posts. They were at the end of a long, narrow, bare stretch of concrete, only about twenty metres wide. Hemmed in by a wall of cargo crates on one side, a straight edge dropping off into darkness on the other, lapping with the sound of water. Far off, the street lamps gave glimpses of prefab outbuildings, more cargo crates, even the shadow of a shipping behemoth. The only things close by was a metal fold-out table, a briefcase on top, what looked like some walkie talkies but with way more buttons and cables that dangled out of sight behind some black cases beside the table.
They were at the docks? The place felt dimly familiar though Akihito couldn't recall visiting any industrial docks before. He couldn't turn enough to see the guy behind him.
"Idiot," Mitarai was grumbling, "as if you'd pass up the chance to see Takaba dead."
"Woah," Akihito tried to reason. "That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"
Mitarai's whole demeanour changed. "Extreme? Extreme?! How the fuck can you sit there and say that, you fucking murderer!"
Akihito shook his head and immediately regretted it. He blinked slowly as the world swayed again. "Yeah, I gotta break it to you, I've no fucking idea what you're talking about."
Mitarai glared.
Akihito glared blearily back.
The stalemate might have dragged on, except for the heavy, cold hands that gripped Akihito's shoulders from behind.
"Then why don't we enlighten you," slithered an eerie voice. It was plain wrong, a clashing mix of pleasant and homicidal. "Because your luck has run out, just like I promised you."
Akihito glanced to the side and caught the dead eyes, the jagged scar running all the way down the cheek and through the lip...
"You...!" There was no mistaking the yakuza Akihito had traded insults with amidst the wreckage of his apartment shot to pieces. But he was quick to mask his fear. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. "Uh, who're you again?"
Lifeless eyes stared back. "It's Wakajima. Maybe you forgot the name but bet you can't forget this ugly mutt, can you?"
Akihito steered clear of that in case the guy was sensitive about it. "What're you doing teaming up with a loser like Mitarai?"
"Come on," Mitarai goaded, "you must have better insults than that. You should use them while you still can."
Scarface came and crouched in front of Akihito. The guy was clearly off his rocker, his eyes vacant of sanity. "Family's a funny thing. It ties you to people you have nothing in common with, until something happens and you end up with the same agenda." A rough hand clenched Akihito's jaw, digging in painfully, forcing his chin up. "The face that beguiled Asami. Or maybe that was your ass? Filthy homos, the both of you. His heart's as black as the Devil. You? You're not as innocent as you appear either. Hiding behind your computer, sowing death and destruction. Two peas in a pod."
"What the fuck are you both on about?" Akihito jerked backwards, trying to free his face from the painful grip.
But Scarface followed him. Akihito landed backwards with a rush of air propelled from his lungs, the yakuza kneeing him in the chest, their combined weight crushing his bound hands into the ground. He couldn't breathe –
Suddenly there was a glint of metal floating before his face – five inches of gleaming razor-sharp horror... Akihito froze up.
"Who appointed you judge and jury?" Scarface asked, his voice creepily calm while his eyes were shot white with insanity. The knife dropped from view, then the point was pricking up under Akihito's chin. "So righteous in your ivory tower, casting oppression and misery in your wake – what gives you the right?"
Mitara placed a cautioning – and cautious – hand on Wakajima's shoulder. "Aniki..." [Big brother or unrelated organizational senior] "Not yet."
The knife withdrew, the weight lifted off his chest. Akihito gasped for air, rolling onto his side. He kept a wary lookout from the corner of his eye.
"The hell?" Akihito swore as he gradually caught his breath. "Is he your brother or is he, like, 'your brother'?"
This was so bizarre. They didn't look anything alike. Was Mitarai actually yakuza?
Scarface swung the knife between two fingers, staring unblinkingly at Akihito. Mitarai, on the other hand, was twisting with rage, ugly and festering.
"It's time you faced the consequences of your actions," Mitarai snarled. "You and Asami both."
Cold seeped through Akihito, and it had nothing to do with the temperature dropping. "What does Asami have anything to do with this?"
"Too much," Scarface said.
"You almost threw a spanner in the works," Mitarai told him. "I got a job at Sion, spent months trying to get close to him. I was going to fuck up Sion's systems and finances using Asami's own account because that would've been great, wouldn't it? But you turned up out of the blue and somehow convinced him it was a good idea to downgrade his root access! Then you left, but just as I had my foot in the door with him, you came waltzing back!" He spluttered a mocking laugh. "Not that any of that matters now. Aniki actually thought I'd mess it up but Asami never saw through me."
"Didn't you say he ignored you most of the time?" Akihito taunted right back. "Rather than not seeing through you, isn't it that Asami never looked at you?"
Scarface laughed.
"That's not it!" Mitarai argued hotly. "We talked! We did talk! Yeah, laugh it up. You'll both pay soon enough."
"For the last time, what the hell are we meant to have done?!"
"You really have no idea, do you? You're a murderer and you're completely ignorant."
Akihito huffed an infuriated breath. "You're talking in circles, baka. You still haven't told me who I'm meant to have killed."
"My sister!" Mitarai shouted.
"My wife," Wakajima said at the same time. Then he dropped the name that rang far too many bells. "Tsubasa."
The name on the encrypted USB drive Asami had got him to hack into... What the fuck was going on?
Scarface's eyes were lit, unhinged, as he smiled with too much pleasure. "It's time to pay your dues."
"She would've been free!" Mitarai insisted. "She and Aniki both. They were going to leave. I mean, no one leaves the yakuza, it's just not done. It's a way of life – all the codes and values drenched in tradition, the strict familial hierarchy, the honour – the goddamned honour. You give your life to it. But she met Aniki when she was dancing at – heh, that's none of your business. Anyway they managed to negotiate a way out with the cops. Witness protection, new identities, new life, the works. The deal was done, they finally had what they needed to get out. They were gonna testify against the Oyabun. Because that's what Asami wanted. Did you know that? They made a deal with the cops, and Asami dictated the terms to bring down Nishizuma. It's hilarious, right?"
"Wait, hang on – was she yakuza already or did she get trapped 'cos she married into it?" Akihito tried to figure out.
"They loved each other," Mitarai snapped.
Akihito couldn't help his dubious look at Wakajima. Love? This heartless creep? Though look how little he'd understood Asami, maybe there was a lot more to Scarface too. But why was Mitarai doing all the talking? And so defensive too, clearly Akihito had hit a nerve. Something wasn't adding up but it was hard making heads or tails of it through all the cotton clouds in his brain.
Scarface didn't linger. "Asami wanted to bring down the Nishizuma Group, because the Oyabun was dealing with Kondo Tetsuya. He was in the news again recently, you might have seen it."
"He was trafficking people," Akihito muttered.
"Very good," Scarface smiled disturbingly. "Kondo was shifting people, instead of legalizing a new shipping route for Asami through the south to Hong Kong. And because Nishizuma was dealing with Kondo, Nishizuma had to go. I suppose it was part of Asami's grand scheme to bring down the whole human trafficking ring."
Akihito didn't follow. "And that's a bad thing?"
"That's not it!" Mitarai spat. "The whole thing kicked off because they tried to testify against Asami at first. Knowing all the moles Asami has in the police, Tsubasa took it all the way to the top, to Superintendent General Matsui himself."
Uh oh...
"It turns out that the Chief of the Tokyo Met himself is in Asami's pocket!"
Wakajima was watching Akihito closely. "But you knew that."
"Oh, was I meant to be surprised? I must've been busy dealing with this fucking concussion you gave me." Yep, Akihito would play up this angle if it helped. He wasn't about to confirm anything for these fuckers.
Mitarai didn't care whether Akihito knew or not, he was too far gone on his roll. "You know what Matsui told her? Asami 'regulates' the yakuza. Yeah, that's right, that's what Matsui said. Asami's been mediating between them and keeping Japan free of the blood baths of old. Everyone knows he profits from narcotics and arms trafficking, but apparently that's ok. Because he keeps the hard stuff out of Japan. Because he stamps down on human trafficking. His business donates millions every year to political campaigns, charity fundraisers and humanitarian relief efforts. He bankrolls small start-up companies and climate control initiatives. And apparently all that makes him the kind of criminal who's good for Japan, who gets to decide what deals should be made, rather than the kind who should be prosecuted!"
Furious, Mitarai paced to and fro, his chest heaving. "There was so much chatter, Spotlight was gearing up for your next big scoop. I sent you hundreds of messages, remember them?"
"Yeah. Yeah I do." Akihito didn't mention that he'd thought it was some nut job – he came across a fair few – and he'd just deleted them all...
"I told you to wait, if you wanted to do the right thing. But did you listen? Of course not, you're Z4m4 M1r0, you do as you fucking like and to hell to everyone else, right?"
Akihito had yelled something similar to Asami, once. Was he just as belligerent and unreasonable? Yes, he supposed. No wonder Asami had set him straight. Nothing was ever that simple.
"One day," Mitarai hissed. "One. Fucking. Day..." There was nothing masked now, all his hatred naked in his glare. "A fucking punk called Z4m4 M1r0 posted everything on Nishizuma the day before they were going to testify. One fucking day!"
Mitarai was too angry to speak.
"Asami declared the deal void," Wakajima told him, brittle. "A load of us were arrested along with the Oyabun, including Tsubasa. There were witnesses, they might've been real but with Asami, who knows. Some of them testified saying they'd seen Tsubasa when we'd been recruiting clients for protection. She was looking at years, when she was only doing what she had to do." He ran his finger along the blade, drawing a bead of ruby. "Do you know what the Oyabun would have done to her if she hadn't? He would have had her beaten up instead. It would have been her bones broken. Her face smashed in. She had no choice."
"Promised everything, only for it all to be taken away the day before," Mitarai hissed. "You have no idea what that can do to a person! It crushed her. It completely destroyed her." He was shaking, his voice choking up. "She tied the prison jumpsuit around her neck, slit her wrists and hung herself from the bars of her cell."
Akihito couldn't breathe. "... What?"
"You drove her to suicide!" Mitarai screamed.
The world was toing and froing, side to side. Or was Akihito shaking his head?
Swamped with horror, it took a while to notice that Scarface was taking one step, and another, and another, towards him. Akihito scrambled to his feet and backed slowly away. Scarface was sliding the knife from end to end in his hands, down to the hilt, flipping it and drawing it to the tip before flipping it again, over and over.
"I'm sorry about Tsubasa," Akihito said. "I really am. But you're blaming me because the two of you didn't get out of the life fast enough and it turned out this way?"
"I told you to wait!" Mitarai shouted.
"Exactly! That's all you said!" Akihito yelled back. "You never said any of this! How am I supposed to have known?"
"That's exactly my point!" Mitarai threw back. "You don't know! You never do! You sniff out a dodgy tidbit and you're after it like a dog with a bone, with no care how it affects anyone else!"
"But..." Akihito looked between them. "All I do is tell the truth. How can that... How can that..." How could that be a bad thing?
There was an electronic beep from Mitarai's pocket. He pulled out a phone, it didn't look like his usual one. An app flashed and Mitarai sent Scarface a meaningful look.
"Already? Sooner than expected," Scarface glanced at Mitarai accusingly, "but no matter. You can handle it, can't you?"
"'Course," Mitarai insisted loftily, and sent Akihito the most horribly triumphant look.
"What," Akihito demanded.
"Judgement time," Scarface announced. "The esteemed Asami-sama has arrived."
Akihito scrambled back but the yakuza caught him by the neck, pulling painfully.
"No!" Akihito kicked out, threw his head, kicked again, but Scarface only tightened his grip.
"You should be grateful," Wakajima grinned maniacally. It was hideous. "You can enjoy this together instead of alone. We were waiting, you see. I needed you to reel in the big fish."
"We," Mitarai broke in. "You mean we needed."
"'Course," Scarface appeased, mirroring Mitarai earlier.
Mitarai seemed satisfied but Akihito didn't buy it for a second. Scarface was using Mitarai? Or did it even matter –
Without any warning, Scarface stabbed the knife, the sharp blade slipping between Akihito's ribs to the hilt.
Blanching, mouth agape in a silent scream –
Scarface smiled. "Every bit of pain. Every drop of blood. As promised, Z4m4 M1r0."
