"I'm sorry," Hei said simply.

Haruko wrapped her hands around the heat of her mug. "I was supposed to be there with him," she said softly, "watching the tournament; but a client was in the midst of a breakdown and I was at the office instead. It was hard for me to forgive myself for that. For a long time, it was hard." Her heart seized up a little at those old memories, as it always did. How long had it been since she had last talked about him with anyone other than Michio?

Hei didn't answer, but she could see the pain in his eyes. He understood what that feeling was like; he just didn't know how to let himself feel it. Not yet, anyway.

"Suzu was only twelve," Haruko continued. The same age that Hei had been too, she knew from the demographics he'd provided in his file; little details like that still jumped out at her, even after all these years. She'd long ago given up trying to stop them. "I spent days waiting with the other victims' families outside the police cordons for them to tell us something, anything about what had happened, whether he was safe."

She had been so sure she would see her little boy walking out of that dust-filled dome, in his school uniform and carrying the wooden fold-up chess set that his father had made him for his birthday. She'd refused to eat, despite Michio's begging her to; she hadn't slept, for fear that she would miss him; Michio had had to carry her home after she'd passed out from exhaustion on the third day.

The sharpness of that pain had faded long ago, though it had never fully left her. In those first few weeks Haruko had thought it might kill her - and hadn't cared.

"It's easy for me to tell you to try and let go," she said with a sigh. "Though honestly, I haven't quite managed it myself yet. I never had a body to mourn or ashes to inter - any kind of closure."

Her mug trembled slightly as she raised it to her lips for a sip of tea. "The hardest part is still not knowing what happened. No one who was in the Hell's Gate boundaries when it appeared was ever seen or heard from again. No one who went in looking for answers has ever come out. That we know of, anyway."

Nearly half a million people…it was hard to believe that so many human beings could be just…erased like that. Occasionally on sleepless nights she would still find herself walking along the barbed-wire-topped chainlink fence that marked the edge of the Restricted Zone, gazing at the impossibly tall wall now surrounding the Gate and wondering if there was a way to slip through. To find him. Some nights, it was only the knowledge of the pain that it would cause Michio that kept her on this side of the fence.

"I catch myself imagining that beyond the Wall, the world continued on as normal. Suzu won his chess tournament; finished school, grew up. On the other side of the Wall, he's happy. Strange things happen around the Gate, they say; it's possible."

Haruko stared into her mug. "That sort of thinking is easy; but in the long run, it only makes the pain worse. Because it isn't the truth. It's a lie I tell myself, and nothing good ever comes from lying to yourself. But there are things that help. I make Suzu's favorites sweets every year on his birthday; my husband and I donate regularly to the Gate Relief Fund. And every year on the anniversary of the Appearance I leave a chess piece for him at the Shrine of the Gate."

This summer would mark the twelfth year; she would take one of White's bishops. She was saving the black pieces for last; Black had always been Suzu's favorite side to play.

"They're just small gestures, but it helps me to focus on the good memories that we had with him; to make a space in which to remember him, so that I don't feel as if I'm trying to cut him out of my life when I'm not spending every second of every day thinking about him." Haruko glanced up from her mug to see Hei gazing thoughtfully down at the chess board. "Maybe you could do something similar for your sister? Make her favorite meal on her birthday?" she suggested, recalling his panic when he'd momentarily forgotten what day that was. "Or maybe visit a shrine on South American Remembrance Day?"

Hei didn't answer for a long moment. Then he met her gaze and said, "I've been inside Hell's Gate. Almost to the center."

Haruko's eyes widened. "What - how? Why?"

"Saving the world, maybe." He shrugged. "Or maybe just saving myself. I don't know. A lot of people…died, to get me inside. But I've been there; I've seen what it's like."

Haruko opened her mouth, but no words formed. Did he have any idea of the enormity of what he was offering her?

Yes, she realized; he knew. That was why he was offering.

Did she want to know? That fantasy, of a boy living in some existence separate from her own, but still nonetheless real, had sustained her through many endless nights. Yet at the same time, the thought of her son living forever apart from her on the other side of an impenetrable wall was almost as painful as the thought of his death.

The idea flitted through her mind that Hei could be lying; she would have no way of knowing the truth, especially not the truth as told by a professional liar.

But the Hei that she had come to know - surprises and all - was first and foremost a compassionate person. He would he tell her nothing rather than an untruth; and furthermore, he was leaving the choice up to her.

What she wanted wouldn't change the truth. Knowing would mean an end to the wondering. The worrying.

Still unable to find her voice, Haruko held her breath and nodded.

"It's empty," Hei said simply. "There are cars, buildings - but there's no one in them. Like a ghost town. There aren't any animals, either, not even birds. Even the plants look like they're only…half there. Just barely existing. There's no way anyone could live there for longer than a day or two."

Haruko felt all the blood drain from her head as her mind was flooded with too many emotions to name. She dropped her head into her hands, struggling just to breathe as a weight she hadn't even felt was there was lifted.

My poor boy…you really are gone, then.

Dimly she was aware that Hei had risen from the table and was doing something in the kitchen, but she paid no attention. She wanted to call Michio, tell him what she had just learned; he had moved on long ago, but had never chided her for failing to do the same.

He would chide her for letting herself break down over such an old wound when they still didn't know if she was safe, however; and he would only end up worrying about her even more than he already was.

Haruko took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks. When she looked up, Hei was in the kitchen pouring them both fresh cups of tea. He really is a sweetheart, she thought. I hope, for their sake as much as his, he does reach out to his family.

The sudden ring of a cell phone broke the silence. It was the tinny, generic ringtone that was default to the model and kept only by those who couldn't figure out how to change it, or who never used their phones enough to care.

Hei deftly transferred the teapot to his other hand without spilling a drop and pulled his phone out of his back pocket to answer on the second ring. "Update?" he asked, his voice once again cold and professional, despite that Haruko was sure that it was Misaki on the other end.

He listened for a long moment. "Copy. No. ETA? Understood." He made a move as if to end the call, then paused and said in a quiet voice, "I love you too."

"Any news?" Haruko asked as Hei tucked the phone back into his pocket and brought the two mugs over to the table.

"Criminal Investigations has Ayami safely in custody."

Haruko sat up straight, her heart suddenly pounding. "Is she alright?"

"A little bruised and shaken, but otherwise okay."

Once again, Haruko's head sank into her hands. "Thank god," she murmured. "That poor girl - she must have been so frightened."

"Misaki said she kept asking about you - apparently she'd mentioned to her father that she'd talked to her therapist about their relationship, and he took that to mean that you now know all the secrets of his organization."

"What? That makes no sense - even if she had, what would I do about it? My obligation is to my client first and foremost."

Hei shrugged dismissively. "He's a small-time yakuza; they're not exactly known for their critical thinking skills."

"I suppose not. So, does this mean I can go home now? Can I see Ayami?"

"An officer is going to bring her here; CI never sent their backup, so he'll stay with us too."

"Stay? But -"

"The boss somehow escaped the raid; Section Four is tracking him down, but he might try to come after you still. You'll have to stay here until he's caught."

She suppressed a small shiver. "How likely do you think it is, that he might try to - to come after me again?"

Hei frowned slightly. "Not very likely. He'll have to assume that whatever damage you could do to him has already been done - especially after kidnapping his own daughter - and focus on his own survival now."

"Then what's wrong?"

Hei glanced at her, as if surprised that she had noticed his discomfort. He hesitated, then said, "There wasn't a second contractor there."

"Maybe he's on the run too? Acting as a bodyguard?"

"That's what Misaki thinks; or that maybe they read too much into the tertiary star analysis, and there never was a second one to begin with."

It was Haruko's turn to frown. "That doesn't sound like a problem."

"If that's the case, no. But if there were two…" Hei idly picked up the rook that he had moved to guard his king. "One to be your hitman; I took care of him already. Then one to stay close and protect your seat of power."

"So…he probably ran with his boss."

Hei set the piece down with a heavy hand. "No. These are contractors we're talking about; their loyalty ends at the first sign of trouble."

Haruko still didn't see what the problem was. "If the police are after his boss, then he would jump ship, right? Just take off? While I don't like the idea of a criminal like that getting away, he's not a threat to Ayami any longer." Then they could be done with this whole mess, and she could go home where she belonged.

But Hei shook his head. "The boss was afraid that you knew about his operations; his operations included the contractors that he hired. If it was me…" He touched the black knight that he had yet to put into play. "I would be on my way here."

This time Haruko couldn't stop the shudder that ran down her spine. Hei was normally so modest and self-effacing; the cold authority with which he now spoke was unnerving. "But…I don't know anything about any contractors."

"That doesn't matter. He can't take the risk. Facing one or two police officers in a safe house is less of a risk than leaving you alive with any details about him."

"He - he can't know where we are, right?"

At the question, Hei's expression softened. "No," he said. "I'm sure Misaki was careful not to be followed, and we have a specter to run interference on any recon mediums that try to take a look inside. And in a few minutes that CI officer will be here with Ayami. If that contractor tries anything, I'll take care of him."

There was that matter-of-fact tone again. "It really doesn't bother you, to kill a contractor?" Haruko asked softly.

Hei looked down at the chess piece in his hands, and carefully placed it back on the board. "Of course it does," he said in a voice even more quiet than hers. "I hate it. I wish I never have to take another life, ever again. But…sometimes it's necessary, to protect someone who can't protect themselves. So if it has to be done, it might as well be me. It's what I'm best at."

"Misaki said earlier that you were pretending to be a contractor -"

"I'm not pretending to be anything," Hei interrupted, bitterness creeping back into his tone. "I know what I am."

Haruko raised a placating hand, wishing that she had her yellow legal pad, her artificial shield. "But you look and sound like a very different person whenever you're talking about killing someone. And I understand. It's to protect yourself, to protect the person you want to be from the things that you have to do - the things that you hate. A sort of…pseudo-personality, to separate those two sides of yourself. And…I think you should continue to keep it."

Hei blinked. "You do?"

"If it's helping; and if you're sure that there's no risk of losing yourself to that other person."

"I nearly lost myself already," he said, still gazing down at the black knight. "I won't let that happen again."

Haruko nodded, absently twirling one of the pawns that she had captured from him as they lapsed into a long silence. She believed him; just as she believed that his reliance on this cold, emotionless facade would eventually fade as he allowed himself to fully be the police officer that he feared he was only masquerading as. At last she said, "I was thinking about your name last week."

"My name?"

"Yes. Li Hei... Li for your father, and the family that you haven't let go of; Hei for the person that you forced yourself to become, for your sister. The person who decided to devote himself to the police. I think your subconscious gave your answer when you chose that name."

He regarded her with a blank look. "It was just the first thing I thought of…."

"Exactly." Haruko smiled. "Never underestimate your gut reactions. Just like your name is a blend your two lives, so are you." She gestured to the knives that still hung from the back of Misaki's empty chair. "You need to find a compromise. A way to blend the skills you've learned as Hei with Li's goal of protecting people. And you need to talk to Misaki about it - honestly. If you aren't convinced of your reasons, she'll never be. Just don't assume what her objections will be; make sure you hear them, and you understand. You both need to accept who you are, right now, without trying to force yourself into some predefined box. There's always room to grow, but it has to start from a place of understanding."

Her client's expression turned pensive. "It was really hard at first, trying to do things Misaki's way - like wear a suit every day - and not carry my knives. I mean, I always had one or two hidden on me anyway, but I felt guilty about it. She said I didn't have to wear such formal clothes when I asked her about that…maybe I can talk to her again about the knives."

"If you can explain why they're important to you - not just practically, but what they mean to the person you want to be - I think you'll find her more amenable than you think," Haruko said, remembering Misaki's comments on the drive over.

Hei nodded, a trace of optimism in the slight upwards curve of his mouth. "I meant it when I said I threw out the mask, though - I'm done with that."

"Mask?" Haruko said blankly.

Before Hei could respond, however, there was a loud knock at the door.