Happy chapter 10 everyone! Thanks for the recent increase in feedback. When I can, I make sure to reply, and if you're just a guest - thanks to you, too! It does help me a lot to gauge where I am headed and how what I write is reaching you guys. And the encouragement does help as well, of course. :)

As always, thanks to zero-damage on reddit for his help! Your changes to the phrasing helped a lot this chapter.

September 12th, 2011 - Afternoon

Naoto returned to the police station shortly after her encounter with Tatsumi.

A slow, hot irritation had boiled inside of her since she found he had quietly left the hilltop. How far could she trust him? How far could she trust any of the other teens? How far should she trust any of them?

She waited impatiently as her privileges were cross-checked by the Sargent on duty. The prefecture had not pulled her from the investigation yet, so she still was permitted all access she requested for the case. The officers did not have to like it, but they would need to comply.

Keeping a cool, expressionless expression as she walked past officers trying to rile her with snide comments on how 'that kid' was wasting his time and how 'everything's done and dusted', she entered the archives and dug for information on Amagi, Satonaka and Tatsumi. In the case of the latter, she knew what to skip this time around and went for anything that might simply show him as a cross-reference.

She would find everything… something, anything which has ever been recorded about these teens. No matter how big or small, she would find details to the questions on how they could be either implicated on the murders, or they would be freed of her doubts decisively.

Sitting in the quiet archives in the center of the building, Naoto poured over indexes, petty crimes possibly related to the three, gang-references, and previously skilled entries. Her question right now was a simple one. What was hidden in the past lives of Satonaka, Tatsumi and Amagi, that would offer her a new lead?

The answer for that came swiftly. She had to accept that Amagi and Satonaka were irreproachable, and everything on Tatsumi only proved her previous sentiment of the youngster. Her finds were paltry at best. After two hours of work, all she had to show for her research was too insignificant to warrant anything new.

There were no former police records on Satonaka or Amagi. Amagi had a chain of solid alibi from day to day, confirmed by staff and gusts at the inn. Tatsumi had been checked into once more and she found his alibi to be compounded by her own investigations from a few months ago.

She left the station armed with a folder full of effectively inconsequential material. Material which exonerated her last three prime suspects.

On her way from the station, to the bus stop, and all the way riding home, all Naoto could do was frown at the folder in her hands and re-organize her thoughts.

Everything she had tried had looped back into failure. Nothing opened up new clues for her. Nothing seemed to confirm her sane or logical scenarios; nothing seemed to prove any of her honed skills as a detective correct.

A sickening feeling nestled inside of her. A bleakness that whispered: You have reached the absolute of what you could manage to achieve. You. Have. Failed.

When she walked into her apartment, she kicked the door shut behind her; walked into the living room; dropped her latest set of folders… and let herself down onto her knees slowly.

Naoto's eyes wandered over weeks and months of work all around her. All her drive and effort. And to what end had she worked?

Her case was stuck. She had used up all possible alternatives to solve the murders. She had failed at connecting with the teens, who obviously only toyed with her now. She had failed to get any cooperation from the local police, and even the Yasogami Prefecture seemed to offer less and less assistance. Her insights and her investigative means had been pushed to their limits. What remained now? Where could she turn?

Grampa was in America now. Calling him was out of the question.

Tatsumi was balking her attempts to gain more information.

The rest of the teens had done nothing but mock her.

Dojima had told her weeks ago to stop and abandon the case.

The other officers at the station blocked her at every junction.

What was she missing? What was the last piece of the puzzle she had not yet considered? Or, indeed, did she have to dis-assemble everything and re-build the puzzle fully?

Doubt lodged inside her chest yet again. She felt it like a physical entity; a weight that made it harder to breathe. Her thoughts seemed to be pulled into a spiral, the fear of failure looming, and a momentous disaster of her own making. Was defeat really an inescapable outcome of the Inaba case then?

Think, Shirogane!

Staring at the floor, she pulled the cap off of her head. Back to basics. Occam's' Razor. Remove everything that has so far not lead the case forward. Take that blade and remove the erroneous data you have amassed.

She slowly got to her feet and picked up an empty file box. Time to apply the razor.

The first files added were the ones she had just brought home. Amagi and Satonaka were a dead end.

Anything linking the younger Tatsumi to the murders went into the box. He was solidly ruled out by now.

All information regarding Kubo followed. She had tried to show this and was denied.

Collected thoughts on a hired assassin followed; right after the 'outsider theory'-data. Lack of physical evidence made it obsolete.

All other constructs; theories and hypothesis were added to the box, filling it. So she filled a second. And a third. And a fourth.

As her apartment became more structured again, so did her overall thoughts. She picked up the trash littered about and filled a bag to be disposed of later. She collected her laundry and filled a basket piece by piece.

By the time she had discarded everything she knew to be proven wrong; removed the refuse from her apartment; and started a batch of laundry; she found most of her living room barren again. Gazing at the boxes filled with discarded work, showing wasted hours in her fruitless efforts, she felt her eyes stinging unpleasantly again.

What had she actually accomplished so far? She had helped in securing information at the third murder site. She had assisted in finding Kubo and charging him with murder. She had also, several times, provided facts that showed Kubo was not the killer of the first two victims, though these efforts had been discarded by others.

So what else did she have to show for all her work? Boxes filled with wasted efforts.

She swept her gaze around the room again. One small cluster of folders remained tucked away into a corner nearly behind her couch.

She went into a crouch beside it, resting on her heels. The slim folder was a collection of local rumor and gossip spread by house wives and teenagers. She had written down anything she heard back then, even rumor. Though this bit… she had discarded it after just one review. The mention of the Midnight Channel was prominent on each of the pages and notes assembled in this folder. A rumor she had so far not disproven, but rejected as laughable.

And by not being disproven, the data in this folder did not get cut by the razor…

She picked up the folder hesitantly and flipped through the pages. Notes on mentions of the Midnight Channel. Dates when she had overheard the rumor flare up. One note attached with a paperclip was dated all the way back to the 10th of July. It noted her conversation with the teenagers in front of Marukyu tofu. They got nervous at her mentioning of Morooka not being shown on TV.

She was reminded of her theory that the killer sought out victims by popularity and after broadcasts showing them on TV, possibly to raise the perceived worth of the murders committed.

She balled her right hand into a fist and bit gently onto her index finger, frowning. Slowly, the old hypothesis came back to her. Her interpretation of the facts had led her to believe that the culprit wanted to raise his or her profile by ensuring the murdered victims were well-known.

She got up and started to pace her living room while flipping through her notes.

Scenario: The murderer, much like Kubo, is driven by the desire to be known and / or popular. As such, they select persons of current local interest. Interest is often sparked through the news and the late-night broadcast "Niteline", according to what she had noted down. After each such surge in apparent importance, rumor and gossip about the person peaked, leading to the culprits' attention being drawn to the victim. This in turn would attract the attention of the killer and bring him to his or her victims. Perhaps they even were a member of the press in some form?

And somehow this brought the teens into the picture, as they, too, had noticed Morooka's lack of an appearance.

Amagi, Satonaka, Hanamura and Narukami all had some connection to the first and second victims. So they could know of the situation. Perhaps someone, maybe Amagi, was not the killer, but perhaps a crown witness, scared to come forward after what happened to Konishi.

She stopped her pacing and placed the open folder onto her table. Still too restless to sit again, she squared herself up, fists pressed to the table top.

So far, that new scenario held up. By that line of reasoning, however, she was missing another vital point. How did Kanji Tatsumi really get entangled with the other four? Back in May, he made allusions to not having friends or at least not considering someone his friend. That had since changed, and dramatically so. He balked at her questioning and her requests for help, telling her today that he could not possibly assist her 'with this'. So how did he get involved?

And how did Kujikawa? As a former idol, she expected her to shy away from casual friendships, especially seeing she expressed a desire to recuperate from personal matters. Or was it that this especially made her seek out companionship? They went to the same school, but senpai and kohai generally did not sync up so effortlessly. What had forged them into a unit?

What had the four second-year students have in common with the first-years?

What was the trigger that would cause these seemingly different teenagers to form any bond, and so quickly?

Naoto turned from the folder of discarded Midnight Channel rumors on the table. She needed to re-trace her steps when investigating the teens.

Flipping through papers in discarded boxes, she pulled up the folders with information in Amagi and Satonaka. She found a report on Amagi having gone missing. Back then already, Adachi hinted that he felt she was involved, but Naoto had dismissed it as a fancy.

Nothing on Satonaka.

She kept digging, pulling up the files on Tatsumi and Kujikawa. There was nothing memorable. She had tried to find out more about the idol, but nothing remarkable passed through her hands at the time.

But then there was the report of Kujikawa disappearing. Her grandmother being unconcerned and even the press did not comment on it. At the time, even Naoto had dismissed it. Apparently it was normal for Kujikawa to just take breaks. Yes, Naoto remembered thinking that the idol must have had access to funds that could allow her to withdraw to a hotel or similar.

She was also reminded of the span of two weeks in which she lost all trace of Tatsumi.

Naoto lifted her head from the box of papers and stared across the room to the map of the murder locations.

Her thought had always been that before the murder was an abduction. A time in which the victims had been missing. She was certain neither Yamano, nor Konishi had been murdered where they had been found.

Had Amagi, Tatsumi and Kujikawa been abducted? And subsequently been recovered?

If they had been… That would mean three things.

First. Morooka not having been on TV and not having reported missing mattered for more than she had previously accounted for and absolutely explained the nervousness of the teens when she questioned them previously.

Further, second, they knew precisely what was going on and yet did not notify authorities. Or even reach out to her, even though she had given them ample opportunity.

And finally, third, Amagi-san had not lied when she talked of entering TVs, helping people escape.

Naoto's mouth slowly dropped open.

The answers had been in front of her. If she still applied the rule of "Among competing hypotheses, the one with the fewest assumptions should be selected"; she was left with the most outrageously impossible of them all.

Oh Amagi-san. Had you been candid all along? 'We go rescuing people who've been kidnapped by jumping into the TV!'

How could she possibly prove this theory? How could she make any of this actually come to be?

Flipping through the 'Discarded' folder, she found the other hint she had forgotten. Niteline.

Naoto grabbed a note pad and began scribbling furiously, before dashing back outside. She needed to check if any of the teens had been shown on that show.

September 12th, 2011, Late Evening

"Please, try not to frown like that, Shirogane-san. I just need to apply this lip gloss…"

"I do not believe that I truly need any make-up." Naoto grumbled. She felt naked without her cap, but even though it was right in front of her, it seemed miles out of reach.

"It's the lights, Nao… sorry, sorry, Shirogane-san. They strip away even your naturally handsome features. I just need a few small additions to ensure the camera can pass your good looks on to our viewers. Please?"

The detective glared at the make-up artist behind her in the mirror for a moment… and relented. "Very well. This is your chosen vocation, after all. You'd know best. But, please, do keep it to the minimum we truly need. I'd rather be noticed for what I have to say, not for what I appear to look like."

"No need to worry, Shirogane-san, no need to worry at all. The Detective Prince will simply appear to be that sliver more handsome, nothing more. I have been doing this for years, and you can never tell that anything was done at all when I am done. After all, if you consider…"

Naoto tuned her out, settled back into the chair and closed her eyes, feeling brushes and pencils mover over her face.

The decision had come this morning. She called up the production staff at Niteline and offered up to appear on the show to give an intimate insight into the investigations of the murder cases.

If everything she had put together so far was correct, she would lure the kidnapper-slash-murderer towards her. Knowing what to expect, she could easily guard herself against the kidnapping and escape without too much effort.

The editorial staff had been delighted, an interview was agreed upon – even though they insisted on a segment called "The Detective Prince's True Identity". She had reluctantly agreed upon it. Give and take, she told herself. She could challenge the kidnapper with what she had to say, she did owe the editors some small compensation for helping her.

She surfaced from her thoughts to hear "…and you should have seen what I did when we had the regional Prefect of Economic Affairs on the show. Hiding his blemishes while still accentuating his features. But working on you is such a pleasure, you hardly need any help at all, why, your skin is…"

Drivel. She returned to her own thoughts.

Tonight would quite possibly burn her remaining bridges with the police. Not that this mattered much. Adachi and Dojima had been shunning her. The other officers at the police station seemed to hardly desire her involvement.

She placed all her chips on this one gamble. All she could hope for now was to cause enough local anxiety which would make her the proverbial talk of the town by tomorrow.

"Shirogane-san? Please, it won't take long, I just need you to stand up so I can give your uniform a quick brush down."

"Yes, certainly."

Naoto hopped from the chair and stretched her arms out sideways, feeling the lint brush go back and forth over her jacket.

Ready. Set. Action, Shirogane.

Naoto had studied her posture for a while before she walked onto the stage, shook the moderator's hand and sat down to his right. She casually placed her right arm in front of her, leaning forward slightly. Her left hand closed lightly around her right and she turned her upper body slightly towards the man on her left. She could easily talk to him or the camera this way.

The NiteLine jingle started up, the director's assistant gave them a countdown – and then the red light on the camera switched on. On air.

The announcer flashed a brilliant smile into the camera straight in front of him. "Good evening, and welcome to Niteline's special Nitewatch Report! A suspect in the murders in Inaba was safely arrested recently. But what few people know is that the mastermind who brought him to justice was a detective – who is attending our local Yasogami High School. Tonight's report will focus on this Detective Prince, Naoto Shirogane, whose handsome looks are sweeping the nation. Thanks for being on the show."

The presenter turned and flashed the young detective a brilliant - and utterly fake - smile.

"No, no" she replied in a low, warm voice, "the pleasure is all mine." Leaning on her arm, she replied his smile with a warm one of her own. Make sure people watch. Play to the crowd that is out there.

"First, congratulations to you and the police for your recent arrest of the culprit." Naoto gave her interview partner a slow nod. "It was well-known that there were a lot of mysteries surrounding this case, and you did a great job clearing them up."

"I would love to fully accept your praise. However, I'd hesitate to say that the matter is "cleared up," as such. It's true that our suspect was behind Mr. Morooka's unfortunate death." She turned her head slightly, glancing at the camera for a moment. "But when I cast my eye over the case as a whole, I detect a few things that seem out of place." Her eyes wandered back to the show's host.

Yes, that wasn't in your script, was it?

Interviewer suddenly fumbled with his script. "Oh. Ah - l-like what?"

Naoto kept her voice smooth and steady, the practiced low register combined with the spark of amusement in her eye making her the picture-perfect image of the Detective Prince they had wanted for the show. "Unfortunately, I cannot divulge details at this time. But this matter claimed the lives of three people, hence I believe that even the smallest inconsistency must be examined."

The man seemed to have found the notes he was looking for. "I...I see. I have to say, this is a surprise in light of the police's official statement. It –ah. It was announced that the young man caught confessed fully-"

Naoto nodded and smoothly spoke over the man. "Yes, but a confession does not signify they actually committed these atrocities. I am of the opinion that the young man may have actually indeed only taken one life – and claimed the others for reasons of megalomania."

The interviewer became even more flustered, stammering something about the police's official statement then flipped quickly through his papers once more. Beside the camera, the production assistance moved his hand in a 'Move on!'-motion. "N-Now for our next segment, 'The Detective Prince's True Identity', where Naoto-kun tells us a little bit about himself."

Naoto narrowed her eyes a moment, before switching her practiced smile back on.

It seemed the host noticed it and stammered "Ah. A-Amazingly, the Detective Prince has solved a whopping twenty-four cases. Sixteen of them were conducted alone, without the involvement of his famous grandfather. Shirogane-san, is living up to such an illustrious name a challenge?"

She shook her head. "I simply do my best. Many people adopt the careers of their families. In fact, only recently one of my peers told me he found my dedication to my heritage admirable."

"But to investigate a series of murders so young... it must be traumatic for a child, correct?"

Naoto stiffened and stat up straight, her relaxed manner vanishing. Here, too?

"Not at all. The situation in Inaba is far from the first such case I have handled. The focus in an investigation is not the injured or deceased party. It is finding the one responsible."

"What about your many admirers?" The interviewer was smirking now, one elbow leaning on the desk. "It's said you're a popular figure at your high school. Do you have anyone special in mind?"

Her face finally went utterly blank. What an altogether senseless diversion. "The question is irrelevant. My work takes precedence."

"But surely even you must feel pleased that not only your brains let people notice you. You are a handsome young man; I am sure many feel jealous of the attention you gain!"

She shook her head, sitting back in her chair. "It is as I said. My work defines me. Social interactions, as pleasurable as they may seem to be for most of my peers, are simply distractions from the goals I must achieve. Allowing myself to squander precious time with distractions of that nature would be irrational and unreasonable."

She forced her smile back in place. Keeping it interesting. Keep people watching. Make them talk.

"But I cannot argue a certain welcoming charm with the inhabitants of Inaba. It is a very appealing town."