Chapter 17 - Consequences

Kurahashi Hinano had never felt so nervous and uncomfortable in her life. Her floral dress fit tightly across her body, and she couldn't stop fidgeting. It was nothing like the loose clothes she wore to the zoo or the soft casualwear she wore around the house. Her heart felt like it was going to burst through her chest.

"Isn't this a little…ridiculous?" Kurahashi wondered. Hazama took a step back, crossing her arms. Kurahashi reddened as she felt Hazama's gaze travel over her body.

"No, you look good, Sunshine."

She pulled the dress down for what felt like the millionth time and vowed to trash the thing after this – she wasn't a 20 year old going clubbing anymore! That wasn't even addressing the make-up that Yada had caked on her face before sending her here. She had a mission.

Today she was meeting Shinozaki Kaoru.

Movement at the back of the bar caught her eye, momentarily distracting her from her fidgeting. Yada and Fuwa were getting into place. The aforementioned girls shot her a thumbs up, although the encouraging gesture did nothing to calm her worries. Even the very thought of seeing the man made her stomach curl in disgust. This man had been involved in framing Nagisa. He had been involved with destroying her friends' lives. Who knows what else he had done in his life?

"Kurahashi-san?" She felt a tap on her shoulder and she jumped. It took all of her self-control not to turn around and punch the person.

"Shinozaki-kun!" she cheerfully greeted, any previous worries and doubts out of her voice. She had a part to play, and it would only be successful if she had the confidence to pull it off. "Long time no see!"

"Yeah," he said, "I can't believe I forgot all about you." Kurahashi resisted sneering. That's because we never met! "You look good in that dress."

"R-really?" she stuttered. I change my mind, I'm going to burn this dress. "Thank you." Shinozaki sat at the bar stool, his arm brushing hers.

"Bartender!" he called, "Two beers, please!" The man nodded, already pulling the glasses out.

"I hope you don't mind, I got here a little early so I had a couple of drinks beforehand," she said. She slowly and deliberately crossed her legs, her calf brushing his thigh. She let her shoulder droop, allowing her dress strap to slip off her shoulder.

Bitch-sensei stood at the front of the classroom, her demeanor serious and determined. "Ladies, while spoken language is important to the art of seduction, body language transcends languages, cultures, and words. Even without speaking, there are plenty of ways to get what you want." She popped her hip. "The body says more than words ever will." She turned around and began to write on the chalkboard. "There are techniques and advantages that only women have. In many ways, the cards are stacked in your favor. For the next hour, I'm going to teach you some of the basics."

"It's quite alright, it's my fault for arriving a bit late, Kurahashi-san," he assured. You were right on time, Shinozaki. She could already see the gleam in his eyes. It was working.

"Please, call me Hinano." There was a clink as the bartender set the glasses on the bar.

"Hinano," he said, testing her name out, "You can call me Kaoru."

"Kao~ru~kun~," she teased, drawing out every syllable, "It's a nice name." She gave him a smile. "So Kaoru-kun, what've ya been up t' since we lef' college?" He puffed his chest out.

"Well, I've been working for the Ministry of Defense for the past few years in the Bureau of Defense Operations."

"Ehh?! Really? Isn't it supposed to be really hard to get a job there?" she asked, "That's incredible! You must be so smart!"

"It's no big deal, really," he dismissed, pride evident in his voice, "I mean, the exam to get the job was very easy."

"That's amazing!" she complimented again. Kurahashi hoped she was selling it. She had never been good at flirting with people. Although, she thought as she eyed Shinozaki, I don't think he's paying too much attention. She took a sip of the beer and Shinozaki mirrored her. She kept the beer close to her lips, but no liquid passed through. The key here would be to get him to drink more than her and faster too. When he set the glass down again, she perked up. "Weren't you also an International Studies major?"

He enthusiastically nodded, "International Studies and Literature double major, actually!"

"Wow!" she exclaimed, "That's so unique! You must've done sooo much reading!" She giggled, for good measure.

"It was tough," he said, "But I made it through with an excellent record."

"It's such a shame we didn't talk at all back then!" she said. Kurahashi squeezed his arm. "Kaoru-kun, you're so interesting!" He leaned forward, pursing his lips ever so slightly. Kurahashi let go, stepping off the barstool.

"Ah, I'm going to run to the bathroom," she said, bouncing a little. His eyes wouldn't leave her. She moved forward, and he leaned expectantly towards her. She whispered, "But after that, why don't we move somewhere a little more fun?" She was halfway to the bathroom before he could say anything in response.

She shivered as she entered the bathroom.

"It going well?" Hazama asked, her eyebrow cocked. Kurahashi gagged.

"He's so pretentious! He's talked about himself the whole time! I feel so dirty about the whole thing!" Hazama patted her back.

"There, there, Sunshine. It's almost over."

"Not over soon enough," Kurahashi muttered. The blond girl took a deep breath. "Do you have the make-up?"

"I do, you ready for it?"

"Yeah," Kurahashi affirmed, "I can't imagine we'll be staying here for much longer. Are Fuwa and Yada in place?"

"Yes, they told me just a few minutes ago. You remember our rendezvous point?"

"I do," Kurahashi confirmed. Hazama passed her a small bag, one that could be very easily mistaken for a make-up bag. Kurahashi held it gingerly. "How long until it…?"

"You'll have five minutes," Hazama said, "At least, that's what Okuda said. It may take you less time to get there. You may have to distract him for a bit." Kurahashi shivered. This whole thing was disgusting her to her core. The charade couldn't be over soon enough. Hazama placed her hand over Kurahashi's.

"You can do this, Sunshine," she said softly, softer than Kurahashi had ever heard the dark girl. "It'll be over before you know it and then it'll be entirely in our ring. Okay?"

"Okay," Kurahashi said, her voice shaking. Hazama leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"When this is all over, we can go out to that sushi restaurant you like. Then we can go visit the aquarium and you can tell me about all the different fish." Hazama bumped their foreheads together. "And if you want, we can run away and pretend like none of this ever happened. I promise." Kurahashi closed her eyes. Her grip tightened on the bag.

"Alright," she said, "I'll hold you to that."

"I'd expect nothing less, Sunshine." Despite herself, Kurahashi smiled.

"Tell Fuwa and Yada to get ready."

"Good luck," Hazama said quietly, giving her one last kiss on the forehead. "I'll be right behind you." Kurahashi genuine smile fell as she reentered the bar. She forced her lips upward again, although this time it was fake and forced.

"I hope you didn't miss me, Kaoru-kun~" she sing-songed. She hopped back onto the stool, her breasts bouncing in the ill-fitting dress.

"I closed our tab, Hinano-chan," he said, "I didn't want to make us have to wait too long."

"Of course, Kaoru-kun, you're such a gentlemen." She touched the knot of his tie, loosening it bit by bit. She swallowed a lump in her throat, knowing exactly what was going to come next. She fingered the bag Hazama had given her with her other hand. "And you know how gentlemen get thanked~." She gripped his tie and pulled him in, their lips smashing together. Shinozaki eagerly reciprocated, his mouth and tongue ready for the heated kiss.

Of everything Bitch-sensei has taught me, her kissing is probably the most useful.

Kurahashi went at it with every technique she knew. He had to be sufficiently distracted for this to work. She used her right hand to hold his head in place as her left hand poured the contents of the bag into his beer. He pulled away once to catch his breath, but Kurahashi pulled him right back in.

Five….Four…

The damn powder was taking too long to dissolve.

Three…Two…One…

She finally pulled herself away, feeling even more disgusted with herself than before. Shinozaki was breathless and dazed. He was eager to leave, she could tell.

"Kaoru-kun, you should finish our beers before we leave. After all, you were kind enough to pay, we shouldn't let your money go to waste." She played with a button on his shirt.

"C'mon Hinano-chan, we should get going."

"If you finish our beers," she teased, her voice soft and sultry, "I can show you what else I can do with my tongue."

The beers went down very quickly. Five minutes, she thought to kissed his cheek as the last drink went down while her fingers teased the top button of his shirt.

"Let's get going, I know exactly where we can go."

She held his hand as they exited the establishment. He got right behind her, sucking and kissing her exposed neck and shoulders. The alley is to the right, two buildings over. She lead him along, but it was becoming difficult: under the haze of hormones and alcohol, he was slow and thinking only about one thing.

"Oh~ That tickles!" she said, fidgeting under his mouth. Gross gross gross gross. Someone put me out my misery! She looked up. We're not that far, we can make it!

"Hinano-chan," he whispered huskily, "You're so beautiful." She forced a giggle out. Just one alley more!

"You're not so bad yourself, Kaoru-kun," she flirted, placing her hand above his to keep it from travelling down any further. "Do you work out?"

"Every day, baby," he said, planting another kiss on her neck. Only a few more steps! Out of the corner of her eye she frantically searched for any sign that her friends were here. There! A red scarf hanging over a garbage bin, their signal. Fuwa and Yada were there. She relaxed, her back-up was here. She pulled him into the alley.

"Kaoru-kun." Three minutes. Their lips met and Shinozaki wasn't holding back. He fiercely kissed her, one hand ran through her strawberry blonde hair and the other traveled down her body. He let out a moan, whispering her name. This is disgusting disgusting disgusting! He broke away from the wet kiss to attack her neck.

"Oof!" she cried as he actually bit her what the hell? Two more minutes!

"Get away from her!" Kurahashi heard a familiar voice yell. Kurahashi silently thanked Hazama.

"Hmm?" Shinozaki said as he broke away from her, "What do you want, lady?" Kurahashi wrapped her arm around Shinozaki.

"Yeah, leave us alone."

"This is public property, kids could see you," Hazama said.

"So? That's their problem for being out so late," Shinozaki sneered.

"Hmm, public ordinances against exhibitionism seem to disagree with you," she said, not the least bit deterred.

"Can't you mind your own damn business?" he said, turning back to Kurahashi. He stopped, centimeters away from her lips. He stood back, his eyes narrowing. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" Kurahashi's heart sped up. It's alright, Hinano. Even if he figures it out now. He's had the sleeping agent. Just one more minute.

"I can't imagine how," Hazama said, crossing her arms.

"I do know you," he said, letting go of Kurahashi, "You were that weird girl that was always in the library. You always said you were cursing people!" Hazama snickered.

"I suppose I was," she said, "Just as you were the pretentious asshole who thought he was so unique for being an International Studies and Literature major and told literally anyone and everyone who would listen."

"Wha?" he said. He stumbled.

"Hazama, thirty seconds," Kurahashi said, feeling confident. He should be feeling very weak now.

"Very good, Sunshine, you did well."

"Wha? Whas goin' on?" he asked, his words slurring into each other. Twenty seconds.

"You'll find out soon enough," Hazama hissed.

He collapsed onto the ground, drool dripping from his mouth. Kurahashi dropped to her knees with him, the last hour finally catching up to her. Tears prickled her eyes. Hazama was at her side in an instant. Yada and Fuwa were already at Shinozaki, ready to move his body.

"You did well, Sunshine," Hazama whispered softly, "You did better than any of us could have." Tears flowed freely as Kurahashi buried herself into Hazama's chest. She felt so dirty and wrong and all she wanted was to go home and wrap herself in a blanket with their cat Yami.

"Kira," Kurahashi sobbed, unable to get any other words out. Hazama wrapped her arms around her.

"It's alright, Sunshine, you're safe now."

"It was good to see you too, Mom," Okuda Manami said as she gave her aging mother a hug. Her father was sitting at their dining room table, a fond smile on his face.

"It was great to see you, honey," she said, wiping away a stray tear, "We're so proud of you, you know that? Come visit us more when you get the chance."

"I will," Okuda affirmed, "We're about to reach a breakthrough and once we've hit that, I'll have more time to visit you guys." Her mother pulled her into another hug. Okuda closed her eyes, taking in the deep, familiar smell of her old household. She missed this. Her life in America was great and fun and she had made a lot of friends, but it didn't have the same kind of warmth or welcome that her old home did. "I missed you."

"We missed you too," her mother said, choking on her tears, "We love you."

"We're proud of you, Manami," her father added. Okuda smiled, her heart soaring.

"Honey, you don't have to leave! You could find a perfectly fine job in Japan!"

"Mom, I need to," Okuda said, drying her eyes, "If I stay here, I'm never going to leave my comfort zone. I need to do this, for myself." If the past four years in university had taught her anything, it was that she was stagnating, both personally and her mentally. She still had so much she to grow, so much more to do

"But, honey, what about the job that Otsuka offered? Are you really just going to turn that down?"

"I am," Okuda said firmly.

"Manami! You can't! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!" Okuda closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Mom, I know you're worried, but I'll be fine. I've already been accepted into a program in America." Her mother burst into tears; Okuda could feel her heart breaking. Her mother pulled her into a tight hug, holding on for dear life.

"Manami…I don't want you to leave."

The aged face of her mother showed none of the signs of the despair she had felt when her only daughter left to study and work abroad. She had a fierce and simple pride. Okuda couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"I'm so glad to hear that," she said quietly, "I'll try and call more, okay?" Her mother's face light up.

"We'd like that," she said kindly. Okuda took a deep breath and glanced at her phone.

"Mom, it was really good to see you, but I have to head back now. I have a few other people to meet and I still need to prepare for the conference…"

"Very well, Manami. Stop by again if you have the time!"

"I'll do my best!" she assured. With a last smile and wave, her mother closed the door. For a moment, Okuda sat there, feeling out-of-place and lonely. Slowly, Okuda moved away from her childhood home, the click of her shoes loud against the aged concrete. With an audible sigh, she forged onwards, knowing that she had much bigger things to think about.

For instance, she was being followed.

She had noticed it a day after her initial meeting with Nagisa and the rest of her old classmates. It had been subtle, and were it not for her heightened paranoia following the realization that they had been watched, she was certain it would've escaped her notice. A man with dark hair and clothes always seemed like he was just out of the corner of her eye. If it wasn't the man, it was a just-out-of-place delivery truck.

She glanced back towards her house, noticing a hardwood flooring van just across the street from her parent's home. Okuda pulled out a seldom used compact mirror, pretending to fix her hair while she eyed the vehicle behind her. A different man sat in the front seat, his eyes hidden beneath sunglasses. He was unmoving. She snapped the compact shut, shoving it down in her purse and fingering a small bottle of mace that she had been given by Hayami.

Okuda had no idea who was following her, although she had a few suspicions. It could be the police, she would be foolish to dismiss the possibility. It was possible that an officer somewhere had connected her to Nagisa; it was easy enough to find if someone was willing to do the digging. She spared a glance back at the van.

But the police weren't the only group that would have an eye on her.

The full extent of Asano's network was still unknown. It was entirely possible that there was someone in his network that worked in immigration. If the information that she had returned to Japan had got back to Asano, who knew what that meant for their group? Okuda closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Think this through, Manami, you can't just go making assumptions.

Either way, she doubted that whoever they were would make a move so quickly her arrival in Japan, but she knew better than to let her guard down. Okuda pulled out her cell phone, pretending to make conversation with someone. They would be less likely to make a move if they thought that someone could corroborate her missing persons report. She kept an ear open for the vehicle as she made her way to the train station.

Sure enough, as she turned the corner, she could hear the rev of the engine as the person started the car. Okuda cursed her parents for living in such a suburban area; it was impossible for her to just duck into a shop or an alley. Still, she moved forward with as much grace and confidence as she could muster. She couldn't let them know that they were getting to her. If this was psychological warfare, she was going to win. If they were going to take her, she was going to fight.

She had a job to do and she wasn't about to let anyone interfere.

She was halfway down the block when the car came down the street, turning towards her and pulling into a gas station ahead of Okuda. She kept her head high and her hand gripped tightly on the bottle of pepper spray.

Okuda made it to the train station without incident, although she still felt unfamiliar eyes on her at almost every point during her journey. She, ironically, only found respite in the crowded train car, surrounded by hundreds of strangers. There was no doubt in her mind that she was still being watched, but the assurance of the crowd made the journey much less nerve-wracking.

Thankfully, the apartment she was staying in wasn't too far from the station, and less than ten minutes after off-boarding, she was in the comfort of Takebayashi's home. He had mentioned at their last gathering that he had an extra room in his apartment, normally reserved for guests or his family, and he had graciously offered her a place to stay.

"Welcome back, Okuda," he greeted, "How were your parents?"

"They were very happy to see me," she said, "They haven't changed at all." She took off her shoes, setting them to the side. She stretched her feet, rolling out any lingering soreness from the walk. "They said they were proud of me." Takebayashi was quiet. Okuda watched his expression. She knew that he had been the pariah of his family after being dropped down to Class E, even more so after he had actively rejected being moved up. He knew, perhaps better than anyone, how powerful those words were.

"I'm glad to hear that, Okuda." He pushed up his glasses. "I heard through the rumor mill that they weren't happy with you leaving."

"They forgave me not too long after I left. We've always talked a lot, but it was nice to see them in person again, you know?" He made a noise of agreement. Takebayashi shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. Okuda suspected he never had a lot of guests.

"I have some curry in the freezer if you want to heat something up," he said slowly. He shook his head. "I apologize, Okuda, I'm not a very good host. I've been busy reading through textbooks." She let out a bark of laughter.

"It's fine," she assured, "Believe me, I've encountered worse." She took a seat at the dining table, pulling a small notebook out of her purse.

Have you checked for wiretaps? Takebayashi furrowed his brow.

"I'm going to heat up the curry, do you want some?" Okuda said, standing up. Until she was sure that the apartment was free of microphones, she would act as naturally as she could. Takebayashi caught on quick.

I did a few days ago. Not today or yesterday.

Okuda read the note with a frown. She stood up, making her way towards the freezer. "I'll do some cleaning while you finish your readings."

"No, you're a guest, you don't have to do that," Takebayashi said.

"Absolutely not," Okuda insisted, "I may be a guest, but you're letting me stay here last minute for free, it's the least I can do." She took out a packet of curry, putting it into the microwave. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for any potential nook and crannies that someone could maliciously plant a microphone.

Okuda pulled a broom and duster out of a coat closet She carefully swept every area of the apartment. Even as the microwave beeped and her food grew cold again, she refused to let any inch go untouched. Takebayashi watched her with discerning eyes. It was clear that he was wondering what had set off this panic.

She heard a rustle behind her as he held up a sheet of paper.

Shoes?

Okuda jolted. She was going through the fourth cabinet for the third time and she hadn't even considered something so obvious. She pulled all shoes out of the corner, carefully inspecting them.

Her heart dropped.

On the heel of her shoe, looking like nothing more than a piece of gunk, was a small, almost microscopic device.

So that's how they were tracking me. When the hell did that get there?

She took the shoe to the kitchen and carefully pried the device off with a knife. Takebayashi moved from his chair, looking over her shoulder.

Once she was certain every single inch of gunk was off, she threw the remnants into the garbage disposal, running it for a solid minute. She let out an audible sigh.

"Okuda, what was that?" Takebayashi asked.

"It looked like a tracker, although I don't know what other purposes it had," she explained, "Takebayashi, I'm being followed."

"Followed? By whom?!" Okuda closed her eyes, she knew that Takebayashi was probably thinking the same thing she was. Is it the police?

"I don't know," she admitted, "But we need to tread carefully." She held up one finger. "If it's the police, we're not acting suspiciously, so we should be fine." Okuda held up a second finger. "The second possibility is that Asano has caught on. And if that's the case…" Takebayashi's brows furrowed.

"If that's the case…" Okuda closed her eyes.

"Then we may need to move fast."

Kimura Masayoshi sat at his desk, his fingers moving and typing, but his mind occupied. The revelation that his boss's boss was working with the man that had killed five government officials and ruined his friends' lives was distracting. His desk, his sanctuary, felt less and less safe by the minute.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, hoping to alleviate a pounding in his head that had been constant since their revelation. After they had identified the voice, he, Hayami, and Chiba had packed up shop and headed to their home base to discuss this with the rest of their team.

"We're totally screwed," Kimura muttered, burying his head into his arms. Hayami and Chiba were across from him, looking just as defeated as he was feeling. Nakamura, Okano, and Kataoka sat in the room in various states of contemplation. They, too, were at a loss.

"Maybe take him out to a professional dinner?" Nakamura suggested.

"Except the only interactions I've had with him were that time in the hallway and a few water cooler conversations," Kimura dismissed. Why was it turning out like this?

"We could try and get him when he's leaving the office?" Okano suggested with a small frown on her face.

"It wouldn't work," Hayami said, "That's when he's going to be most heavily protected, especially after the assassinations. There's no way we can get in in that short window between him leaving the office and him getting to his car."

"What about the window from him leaving his car to go to his home?" Okano pushed.

"Where his wife, a witness, is going to be?" Hayami countered with a raised eyebrow, "That's no good either." Kimura sighed, leaning back.

"Well, what are our options?" he asked, "I mean, there's the short period when he leaves his office, but what else?" Nakamura pulled a beaten looking, faded marker off the white board and began to write.

1. Before or after work

2. At his home

Kimura frowned, looking over the options.

"Lunch?" Okano suggested, "Maybe invite him out to lunch?"

3. Lunch or Dinner

"Like we said, none of us are exactly in the position to do that, he just isn't someone we interact with often enough," Hayami reminded the group, "Besides, people are going to notice if he goes out to lunch and doesn't come back."

"Maybe he has a mistress?" Nakamura said with a shrug, "We lure him out with her and kidnap him."

"We can't assume that," Hayami shot down. Nakamura shrugged.

"Just throwing out ideas," she said. Under her breath, she added, "I'm putting it on the board anyway."

4. Mistress

"You could go into his office saying you have inside intel about the assassination," Kataoka suggested, "You mentioned he stays late, right?" Kimura sat up slowly, nodding. "Well, if you do it after hours, you could get him then."

"That's not a bad idea, but we still have two problems. We've got to get him knocked out without suspicion AND we have to get him the hell out of there." Hayami let out a sigh. "It would also be nice if we could do this without him connecting it to us. He's Head of Investigations, if he knows we're involved with Nagisa, we're royally screwed."

"We could let another team take over?" Okano suggested.

"No one else is going to be able to get close to him," Kimura reasoned, "It has to be us. I just…I just don't know how."

"Oi! Kimura!" The aforementioned man was thrown out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?" he said, as though he hadn't just spent the last four hours being totally unproductive.

"We need you to check out the knife from that murder-suicide case you're working on so that the labs can look at it," Kinemasu Akio said. He was an older no-nonsense cop. Rumor had it that he had done a few years in the military before joining the force.

"Why do I have to be there?"

"Because two senior examiners are out on a crime scene, one is on vacation, and the junior examiners need supervision. Do you remember what happened with Itami-san?" Kimura winced. That had been a total disaster.

"Alright, I'll be there in a moment," he said, standing up. While it wasn't a fun job, it would honestly probably be more productive than whatever the hell he thought he was doing now. He locked his computer, stepping away from his desk with a deep breath. Kinemasu led him down the precinct to the evidence locker. They were silent, nothing but the sound of their steps and the background noise of the officers accompanying them. Kimura felt his heart speed up as he walked passed Head Investigator Kurofuji's office.

In there was a man who willingly worked for someone who had no moral compass. Someone who could manipulate the police like they were his puppets.

No big deal.

Kimura let out a breath as soon as they were a safe distance away. Kinemasu pushed open the door to evidence storage, giving the security guard and clerk a nod.

"Kimura-san! Good to see you again!" the secretary chirped, "Did those tapes from the other day help?"

"That's Kurofuji," Kimura said, stepping backwards, "That's the goddamn head of investigations."

"Yes," he said with a nod, "They were helpful." He pulled out his ID, although he was sure she had already pulled up his file. "I need to check out a couple of items, EGT-46 through EGT-49." She furiously typed on her computer, scanning his ID in the process. A second clerk stood up to grab the items in question.

Kinemasu quietly introduced Kimura to the two junior examiners, a young woman just out of school and a man who had just transferred in from another precinct before excusing himself. They were ever the professionals, getting to work straight away. He didn't need to be there and they knew that. As they worked tirelessly in their examination room, Kimura just sat back and scrolled through his phone. He wished he was allowed to bring a laptop in here, then at least he could pretend to be doing something.

The hours went by as the two conducted test after test. A blood test, a fingerprint test, and other miscellaneous reports. Kimura realized about halfway through that he should probably be paying more attention, since this was essentially his case they were working on, but his thoughts were too distracting.

"I think we're done," one of them finally said, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"Cool, bag everything up and I'll check it back in." They nodded, and expertly began placing everything back where it came from. There was a knock on the door.

"Kimura," the evidence clerk said, "You're being called." Kimura let out another sigh, wondering if and when he'd get the chance to go back to his desk.

"Is it urgent?"

"Yes." Kimura let out a groan, his frustration escaping him. He turned to the two examiners. "I'm trusting you two to turn those in, okay? Just let Sakura-san at the front desk know, okay?" He pulled off his apron, hanging it beside the door. "Who's calling for me anyway?"

"Kurofuji Yuichi." Kimura froze, midway through taking his gloves off. His eyes widened. The clerk laughed, mistaking his bone-numbing terror for simple fear. "Don't worry, Kimura-san, I'm sure it's nothing bad."

Kimura wasn't so sure about that.

He walked out of the evidence locker, feeling like a dead man walking. His mind was blank, having only the presence of mind to shoot Hayami a warning text. He stood in front of the office, nearly hyperventilating.

He knocked three times, hoping, praying that the clerk was wrong and the head investigator actually wanted to speak with Komura Mosoyashi.

"Come in!" a voice from inside called.

"After all, we've got to protect the peace, and we've failed so far."

Kimura opened the door, only now realizing that in his panic he had failed to take off his examination gloves. He gulped, feeling a lump in his throat. I'm going to die here, aren't I? I'm going to die here and I didn't even get the chance to get someone to look after my cat!

"Afternoon, sir," he greeted.

"Good afternoon, Kimura-san!" Kurofuji said politely, "I'm sorry for calling you in here without warning, it just completely slipped my mind." The brown-haired man shuffled some papers on his desk. "C'mon, close the door and sit down, I don't want to make you uncomfortable." It's already too late for that. Kimura obeyed, wondering what kind of excuse he could make to leave.

"I don't want this to take too long, I just wanted to congratulate you on your recent work with the double homicide and your spearheading the Shiota case." The man smiled. "I've seen you coming in an hour earlier than everyone every day and leaving long after the sun has set. That kind of drive is what we need in this station." If Kimura had been given this praise four days ago, he would've felt incredibly proud. Now he just felt hollow.

"Thank you, sir," he said, "I just want to bring those who commit crimes to justice."

"That's noble of you," he said sagely, "It's that kind of ideological drive that's going to bring you to the top one day." A small smile graced Kimura's face. His foot was twitching, urging him to get far away from here. "I admit, I'm kind of ashamed that I don't know everyone in my department. I wish I did, because I would've brought you in here sooner." Kimura was silent, his loafers tapping against the carpet.

"Is that all, sir?" Kimura asked. Kurofuji laughed, striking fear in Kimura's heart.

"I see, I see, you want to get back to work. That's very admirable, Kimura-kun, but I'm sure you could spare a few more moments to just chat."

"R-right," Kimura stuttered.

"So, Kimura-kun, you seem to have a good relationship with the Chiba family," he said. Kimura sucked in a breath.

"Yeah, we've known each other for a while."

"They're the top snipers in the force," Kurofuji said, "Better than even some of the vets we have. They have amazing dexterity and spatial reasoning."

"They're incredible," Kimura agreed, "They were that great, even in middle school."

"Ah, you've known them that long?"

"Yes." It was a simple, easy to check fact. It would be bad if he lied now.

"I see," Kurofuji said contemplatively, "Is that also when you met Shiota Nagisa?" Kimura stiffened.

"I…I…"

"Do you really think I got to this position without being able to do basic snooping? Anyone with a brain could've connected the eight criminals to Shiota Nagisa with a simple google search." Kurofuji slammed the papers down on his desk. "So what? Were you trying to hide evidence to protect your friends? Were you a part of this from the beginning? Or, were you, as I suspect, a part of their team the whole time?" Kimura choked, trying to find his words. No, you're wrong! You're wrong about everything! If there's anyone impeding the investigation, it's you!

There was a knock on the door, and Kimura nearly jumped through the ceiling.

"Come in!" Kurofuji called, as if he hadn't just been accusing Kimura of high treason. The door opened, and in came one of the examiners that Kimura had been working with not even fifteen minutes ago.

"Kurofuji-sama, you called?" she asked, her voice timid.

"Yes, I believe you were told to bring the evidence?"

"Y-yes," she intoned, placing a familiar plastic bag on the man's desk. A knife, stained with dried blood. "I-I apologize sir, I thought we weren't allowed to bring evidence outside of the locker?"

"It's quite alright, Michiru-san, Kimura and I think we may've had a breakthrough, and this may be the key to it." The woman nodded, bowing slightly.

"Very well," she said, "I'm sorry, Kimura-san, I didn't have time to check it back in." Kimura felt his heart drop. This is bad!

"Go along, Michiru-san, I believe it's almost time for you to go home." She made a noise of agreement and bowed.

"Have a good evening, sir."

"You too."

The door closed and they were alone once more. Kurofuji hummed, knowing that Kimura was trapped.

"I saw the evidence that you and the Chibas were looking through. Very interesting, aren't they? Those calls?"

"We couldn't find anything," Kimura lied, hoping that Kurofuji would buy his bluff. It didn't work. Kurofuji held all the power here and he knew it.

"I find that very doubtful," Kurofuji said lowly, "Who would've thought? One of Tokyo's top investigators was really a terrorist all along."

"I'm not!" Kimura cried, losing his cool. Kurofuji didn't react.

"Masayoshi," he said. A shiver went up Kimura's spine. "Name changed from Justice when you were just 19. As I recall, your parents both were cops. I wonder what they'll think of this?" The man pulled a paper from his pile. "And the Chibas. Married two years ago after dating for five. Miss Rinka is expecting isn't she?" Kimura clenched his fist. "Only a few months along, not even showing yet." His grin grew malicious. "It's so easy to miscarry that early."

"How dare you!" Kimura bit through clenched teeth. Kurofuji looked satisfied. "That man you're working for is the one who killed all those people, right?! Nagisa was set-up!"

"So you admit it, you're working for Shiota," the man said coolly, looking more satisfied than he had any right to be. There was a lump in Kimura's throat and terror coursed through his veins. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this.

"And you're working for Asano Gakushuu," Kimura hissed. The brown-haired man tilted his head.

"You're not wrong," he said, "Although it's hardly the full story."

"Why work for him?!" Kimura shouted, his bottled up frustration, confusion, and anger finally overflowing and pouring out of him. "He's manipulating you! All he's doing is thinking about himself! He'd throw you away without a second thought!" Kurofuji let out a bark of laughter.

"Asano-san knows exactly what he's doing," he said, "And I support him, it's as simple as that." Kurofuji leaned back, seemingly undisturbed by Kimura's outburst. "He has a vision for this country, a vision to lead us to greatness. If my death helps us achieve that, then I have no problems dying for his cause." Kurofuji opened a drawer. "Tell me, Kimura, why work for Shiota? What does he have to offer you?"

"I'm…he's not…" Kimura struggled to find his words. A million thoughts flitted through his head, but only one stood out. One that had kept him grounded throughout this whole thing.

We never really even thanked him, did we?" Kimura said, the memories flooding back, "I mean, we all pitched in for that necklace Karma gave him, but we never told him we were thankful."

"He's my friend."

"That's sweet," Kurofuji said, "I suppose we'll see what wins out today. A vision for the future or your friendship." Sarcasm dripped from his voice. The investigator picked up the plastic bag, dumping the blood-stained knife on the desk. He tilted his head, his eyes crazed. Fear jolted through Kimura.

"You can't run, Masayoshi, I've made sure of it." The metal of a pistol glimmered under the bright fluorescent lights of the office. Did he have his gun ready the whole time? Kimura wondered. He gulped. "Pick up the knife."

"W-why?"

"JUST DO IT!" Kurofuji shouted, clicking the safety of the gun off. Kimura slowly reached for the knife, enclosing his sweaty hand around it. If I can disable him, I can get out of here. My hands are still gloved, they can't confirm I tried to attack him…

"What're you going to do?" Kimura dared to ask, hoping it would buy him time. Any time. Even just a second.

"I'll be honest, Masayoshi-san. I couldn't care less that three members of my police force are working for some god-forsaken assassination group. Especially when I know that Asano-sama's plans are finally moving into action." Kimura waited, hoping for an inkling of an opening. "But his plans require Japanese trust in the establishment to shatter, and I'll happily comply."

"Comply with what?"

"Masayoshi, if it's any assurance, you were one of our best cops." Not yet, he's still too on guard… "But your death will be a noble one. A necessary stepping stone to a better future." C'mon, I need something, anything! Kimura was frozen where he was standing, too horrified to move a muscle. The gun was level with his head.

Even as he stared down the barrel of the weapon, Kimura couldn't bring himself to move. His mind was frantic, but his body still. He would never find the opportunity to attack.

The bullet was far faster.