Chapter 22: "Deadmen's Wealth"
*Hikigaya Hachiman
*Tokishima Private Bank, Chiyoda Ward
[August 28th / 4:38 PM]
"－ so what do you think?" Hiura asked from the driver's seat.
"... huh?" I answered back with eloquence of a grade schooler caught daydreaming in class. I tore my eyes from the sight of whizzing buildings and cars as we drove along the highway.
"About what I said? What do you think?"
"I'm going to keep it real with you, Hiura," I said tiredly, leaning back further into the leather passenger seat. "I didn't listen to a thing you were saying."
Hiura chuckled. "Here I am laying my entire being bare, and this is how I'm treated?"
I grimaced at the mental image. "That sounds wrong on every conceivable level. Even figurative."
"Sorry, Hiura-san." Shiba apologized from the back seat. "Senpai hasn't slept in a while, so he's a bit cranky."
"Oi." I growled at my partner. "I took a nap last night."
"Dozing off for an hour while going over reports doesn't count. When was the last time you slept more than 4 hours in a row?"
"... I can't recall," I said after thinking about it for a moment.
Hiura glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "That's… probably not a good sign?"
I shrugged. "Hasn't killed me yet."
"It will." Shiba promised. I glared up at him through the rearview mirror. He responded back with a grin that showed off his perfect dentition. Tch.
Resisting the urge to flip him the bird, I instead huffed and looked out the window once more. Hiura's car was traveling serenely over the highway. This was pre-rush hour traffic, so things were mostly clear on the road. I reclined further into the faux-leather seat. The comfort it provided was enticing me to shut my eyes, but the prickling at the back of my head denied it. I could be tired. I acknowledged that possibility did exist.
But I'm not. No way.
"I'm being serious though, what do you think?" Hiura asked again, getting my attention once more.
"And I'm also being serious." I insisted. "I wasn't listening."
"Really? I thought you were just pretending to be an ass."
"You know me: not one to disappoint."
"Anyway, I was talking about bank accounts. The case has me thinking about whether it's a good idea to have a shared bank account or not." Hiura ignored my quip and quickly summarized what he must have said before.
"I may not have been tuning in…" I admitted shamelessly with a flourish of a hand that ended with a finger pointing behind my head. "But I'm sure this question could have been answered by Sass Master Shiba. Regardless, that seems like a problem you only have to realistically worry about once you're married."
"Come on then, it's going to happen to you eventually. You don't have any idea?" Hiura laughed. The clicking sound of the blinker could be heard in the cabin of the car as he switched lanes, taking a ramp to merge onto another highway. We traded views of the city for the coastline where fishing boats stood docked.
"What? Of course not. Thinking like that is tempting fate. Besides, I'm too attractive to get married."
"Riigghhttt." Hiura droned, his disbelief obvious. "Let's say this is a hypothetical. Would you have a shared bank account with a spouse or S.O.?"
"... I'll bite. No, I wouldn't. It's a bad idea all around."
"Praytell, why?"
"In the case of divorce there's no way to tell who bought what. She would take everything from me: house, furniture, electronics, car, and the better half of the cat."
"Half of the cat?"
"I feel like she would get the cat killed just to spite me."
"First of all, what type of spouse are you considering marrying in this hypothetical? Second, why is she pure evil incarnate?"
"Hah?" I groaned out in righteous indignation. "Think I'm wrong? Ask Shiba."
"Please don't involve me in this ludicrous conversation." Shiba responded quickly and stoically.
"See? Those are the words of someone who has seen the mouth of the beast and came back alive. Would you want to share a bank account with someone who could see each and every purchase you made, the money you spend, and could potentially just take it all? Just think about the poor cat!"
"Does trust not factor into anything in this?" Hiura asked in disbelief. "Who hurt you?"
"The world has wronged me." I declared dramatically. "If trust mattered then they'll be okay with individual bank accounts. I trust them to not be stupid with money, and I would hope they did the same. If they didn't, it doesn't sound like a healthy relationship anyway. Laying down ownership is an important facet of life. As is maintaining the life of a cat."
"Your sister stole toys from you as a kid, didn't she?"
"Like I said: wronged by the world."
"I'm confident Senpai wasn't the sharing type." My partner added in edgewise.
"Can the peanut gallery, please shut up?" I groaned. "And for your information, it's only stealing if I was against it. My imouto is capable of no wrong."
"...that's some gold medal class mental gymnastics, Senpai…"
"I get it," Hiura said suddenly, grabbing both my and Shiba's attention. "We just need to get you a girl and you'll be on your way."
"Are you thick? I'm too much for any mere mortal woman. I said this. Back me up, Shiba."
I made the mistake of looking into the rear-view mirror, and caught the savage grin on Shiba's face.
"Senpai's right. It's why he only dates goddesses."
"..." My jaw hung open at the betrayal. Et tu, Shiba?
"Oh ho… so the rumors were true?" Hiura asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "That pretty lady－"
"No. Be quiet. I don't want to hear anything from a philanderer like you." Alas, I was besieged from all sides.
"Excuse me? What gave you that idea?"
"You got this whole tall, dark, and handsome vibe going on. Everyone just lovessss talking to you. Especially the women. What was her name again, Shiba? That girl who always sits with Hiura at lunch?"
"You mean Ookai-san?"
"What's wrong with me talking to Ookai?" Hiura asked with a frown.
"She's from Records. That's on the other side of the building. They have their own cafeteria, yet she comes to ours. Add two and two together."
"I did, and it's definitely four. There's nothing going on there. We're just friends."
"So you say. But does she think that? What's stopping her imagination from going wild?"
"Maybe the fact that she knows I'm married?"
Any sense of exhaustion I theoretically should be feeling (but absolutely did not, and even if it was possible I was tired, it was nothing a few cans MAX couldn't solve) was definitely gone now. I sat up in my seat. "You're married?"
"Yep."
"Hitched?"
"Yes."
"Ball and chain to the leg and soul?"
"Can you not refer to my wife like that?"
"... certificate and everything?"
"That's what my tax return says."
"And you… act like this?"
"What's wrong with how I act?"
"As if you're the enemy of women everywhere." I stated bluntly.
"Is it a sin to talk to other women who aren't my wife?"
"Oh no, sir. What you do goes beyond 'talking.' Stay away from my sister, you villain."
"You're doing a great job switching the conversation around on me," Hiura said, knowing grin on his face.
Shiba laughed which just egged Hiura on to laugh at me as well. Luckily we arrived at our destination soon after, allowing me to retain some dignity.
"Well." Shiba held a hand above his eyes to block out the sun. "That was an elucidating conversation about bank accounts. Let's put it to use."
Before us was a building that seemed both out of place and out of its era within Tokyo. It was decidedly Greco-Roman in design and built in brick and mortar. Stone columns were topped by impressively intricate volutes. All worked together to support triangular pediments. The roof was covered in painted sheet metal, a bright green that reminded me of oxidized copper. Dark lines and amber discolorations on the stone hinted at the building's age.
"Tokishima Private Bank's main office," Hiura said walking up. "One of the larger private banks in Japan. Let's head in, I'll do the talking."
"Be my guest." I shoved my hands into my pockets and followed the older detective. Shiba wasn't too far behind.
The entrance was pasted granite that shone in the sun, inviting us inwards. The revolving doors were heavy, being composed of brass and glass. It wasn't a hindrance, however, as a doorman pushed one of the handles, giving us access with no effort on our part. The doorman was straight out of the movies, wearing a crisp suit with red accents along with immaculate white cotton gloves. How does he keep that clean?
"We're from Tokyo Metro Police, I had called ahead of time?" Hiura asked the doorman.
I zoned out and was entranced by the interior. Vaulted ceilings were accompanied by warm sodium lamps that flooded the area in a gentle amber light. Customers were in the building. Some were sitting in plush couches or stood at the various booths talking individually to a teller. There was a relaxed ambiance to the chatter. Some employees with name tags walked directly to customers. There was not a line in sight. Everyone wore expensive clothing that fit perfectly. Fake smiles and affluence went together hand in hand, it seemed.
"This is really something else." Shiba breathed from my side. I turned my head to look at him. He was staring forward, memorizing every aspect his eyes passed over. "I can see why celebrities and the rich do their banking here."
"Politicians too." I added. "Which makes me wonder how a kid like Aoi had an account here."
"His parents were wealthy."
"They were, so why aren't we investigating their bank accounts? Something's up."
"Hikigaya! Shiba!" Hiura called out to us, walking up. "We'll be talking with the manager of this branch."
"No one else?" Shiba asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"They were the only person the bank would let us speak to." Hiura answered.
"Is the manager a woman?" I asked.
"Uh, yeah." Hiura responded, confused. "What does that have to do－"
"Fantastic. You go ahead and fraternize with her."
"W-wait! Hikigaya, where are you going?"
"On an adventure." I called over my shoulder. "Have fun."
"S-Senpai!?"
Allow me to be frank for just a moment.
Being a detective doesn't really require too many skills or intellect, contrary to popular belief. Occam's razor comes to mind. That adage that says that the simplest solution/explanation is probably the correct one. Overthinking things or trying to find patterns where there aren't any is a surefire way to be led astray from the truth of a case. When something so bizarre occurs that you can't think of any other reason why it would happen, chances are more likely than not that your gut has it right.
So when Hiura had burst into the office earlier this morning with news that Aoi's bank account had emptied itself, there were only so many things it could mean.
I walked across the marbled floor, marveling at the black and white checkerboard pattern. Each square was encased in an outline of metal. Likely bronze if the doors of the building were any indication. My footsteps echoed, melding with the soft murmuring of the various conversations and transactions around me.
I stopped at the center of the floor, and swept my gaze over all. Rich people were everywhere, the occasional chuckle or laugh at a joke said. No one made eye contact with me. Recklessly approaching anyone for a talk would be a disaster, as all these people most likely had friends in high places. I could imagine Aoi fitting right at home in this place. His neatly cut hair and prim clothing accompanied by a demeanor of nobility and－
What's this?
A new figure had stood up from his seat among a set of couches that encircled a glass coffee table. It was a man who looked to be in his mid twenties or early thirties. He said something to his group of friends… or acquaintances? Business partners? I couldn't tell, I was too far away to be able to hear what was being said. The man walked towards a desk where a teller sat. They exchanged a few words and he pulled out his wallet. It was a bifold type with a light brown color.
That's actually an extremely light brown color. It was most likely genuine leather, so it would have discolored from use. It was a new wallet. Too new for his age. No, I was probably looking too far into it. I had no idea how the rich treated their personal items. From my own end, I didn't have any experiences to draw from. I made a wallet from Doraemon patterned duct tape for my own use.
What I wasn't looking too far into was the white card that he removed from one of the folds.
I felt my eyes widen like I had woken up for the second time that day. At this distance I couldn't mistake it: the size and shape were identical to the white card in my own wallet. The teller said something to the man, who nodded, she took the white card with both hands and traded it for a solid blue card which the man took enthusiastically. The size and shape of the new card looked to be exactly the same as the white card. Not just the white card that was handed to the teller, but also the one Saito had given me.
My heart began to race at the implications. Unknowingly, I had stepped into the lion's den. And I was but a rabbit. The path did follow Aoi.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"S-sorry?"
A voice broke me out of my thoughts and I responded back reflexively. Standing to my side was a woman in sharp looking business attire. She tilted her head to the side and looked at me peculiarly.
"I apologize if I startled you," she said politely, giving me a slight bow of her head. "I had noticed you were standing here and wondered if you required assistance with anything."
"N-no… I don't…" I began, caught off guard. My brain was moving at the same speed as my heart. Experience shut down the panic as soon as it began to bubble within me. Cold logic replaced it.
Calm down. This is an opportunity.
"Sorry, I was a bit taken aback by the people. Didn't expect to see so many politicians or celebrities in one place."
The woman gave a polite little giggle. A gigglette? "Ah yes, a common occurrence for newcomers. Tokshima private bank serves large corporations and offers consulting and financial advice to individuals as well as banking services. Our customer base is one built on recommendations, and are quite scrupulously selected."
Interesting choice of words.
"I don't have a bank account here yet, but I'm assuming you guys give cards?"
"Yes, of course. Your standard fare bank cards with a magnetic strip that we use to verify credentials and allow access to financial information."
"That right? Do you happen to have any other cards? Maybe a rewards card?"
"Hmm… that is a good question." The lady thought for a second, tapping her cheek with a finger. "Not necessarily a rewards card, but we have a tiered membership system that gives benefits to members."
"... I see. That sounds like something someone would like to be part of, how does one become a tiered member?"
"Unfortunately, Tokishima Private Bank does not handle the processing of tiered membership on our end. A third-party committee handles that, as there is substantial private information that needs to be handled carefully, especially considering our clientele. Although I can send a request to have your status checked to see if you qualify."
"I- ah." I noticed Hiura walking towards me, Shiba nowhere in sight. "What's up?"
"Excuse me, I'm sorry for interrupting." Hiura apologized graciously.
"Not at all. If either of you require any assistance please do not hesitate to let me know. We pride ourselves on our customer service at Tokshima Private Bank." She gave a crisp bow at the waist and walked away.
Hiura and I traded looks.
"So what do you think?" I asked.
"A challenge methinks…" Hiura held his chin with a pondering expression. "An enigma. Clearly professional. It's going to be tough."
"We're on the same page then."
"Tough more because of the environment. Standards must be high because of the class of the clientele she deals with on a daily basis. So you need to forget about impressing her with anything other than personality. A bit small, but she has that seriousness. It's a good match for you."
"Yes, I agree- huh?" I blinked.
"What?"
"What are you talking about?"
"What are you talking about?
"The case! What does my personality have anything to do with this?"
"The bank teller girl just now. She's really cute. You should go for it."
"No."
"Don't be like that! There's a bit of makeup on, but I'm sure she's pretty without it too. Solid 7 to an 8 and a half." Hiura patted me on the shoulder like an elder brother would. I quickly brushed off his arm.
"Aren't you married?"
"Ok, wow. You're being shy. Didn't think that would ever happen with you. Don't worry, I have your back."
A sense of foreboding filled me as I watched Hiura pivot on his heel.
"Wait. No. Stop. Don't harass－"
"I'll be right back."
I watched powerlessly as Hiura walked away. In just a moment, he made conversation with the woman. She smiled a few times as words were passed. Hiura pointed at me once, with her eyes following closely after. I turned around quickly, unwilling to be caught in this. Footsteps caught my attention. I saw Shiba walking down the hallway towards me.
"Senpai? Where's Hiura-san?"
"Being a bastard. Get me up to date, Hiura didn't."
"What didn't I do?" The devil-who-was-spoken-of appeared between us. Hiura handed a folded piece of paper to me, inviting a questioning gaze from Shiba.
I opened it, and immediately crushed it in my fist. "I'm going to murder you and they will never find your body."
Hiura gives a frown that wrinkles his forehead. "Hey, I'm just trying to help you out. We're friends, aren't we?" He sounded genuinely hurt.
"We're not. And stay away from my sister. And Shiba's sister."
"I don't have a sister, Senpai."
"Wow." Hiura whistled at my blunt words. "You're a tsundere too? Explains a lot."
I feel my face heat up as Shiba slapped a hand over his mouth in a futile attempt to contain his laughter.
"Pick a god and pray," I said with a feral tone. [1]
"L-let's not do this here…" Shiba stuttered, stepping between us.
I gave Hiura a withering glare. Hiura was unfazed, and just shot me a cocky smile. Damn riajuus. He's like a semi-less handsome Hayama Hayato who happened to finally develop a personality. Unfortunately it was one that revolved around wit.
"So what did we learn?" I sighed, looking upward and closing my eyes. My fingers massaged the bridge of my nose to try and alleviate the pressure behind my eyes. My question changed the atmosphere around us instantly.
"Not much." Hiura admitted, his voice taking on a blunt edge. "Aoi's account emptied a minute after midnight passed."
"Essentially after all transactions were processed." Shiba added. "The strange part was how it wasn't strange."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"The transaction requests for wired money were internationally ordered. From Switzerland. But they were pre-approved two years in advance. So it passed all safety checks and verifications."
"Someone had access beyond Aoi… or in spite of him." I concluded.
"There's someone else involved, clearly," Hiura said. "But these requests can't be traced. Banking system requests are encrypted for security reasons. Manager says that a computer or a set of them are probably involved. The number of transactions to get the money from Aoi's account numbered in the millions."
"... come again?" I was gobsmacked.
"That's what I said. Manager reckons that an AI was most likely used to funnel the money. Since the transaction sources were pre-approved there's nothing that they can do but alert us after everything was moved."
"We can assume that the money is being directly wired between accounts all over the world at this stage. They're trying to cover their tracks. The digital footprints are beyond us, they'll move the money faster than we can trace it." Shiba looked down at his notepad and circled something.
"Two steps forward… one step back." I sighed once more. "Logical conclusions are… there's something or someone involved for a while who is behind this. They have resources internationally."
Shiba looked up at me suddenly from his notepad. "Wait. Aren't we also investigating money laundering?"
My eyes widened and Hiura's mouth opened and closed, speechless.
"Shit."
We all fell silent.
"We're going to have let the Chief know," Hiura said while shrugging. "This is beyond the TMPD. It's the PSIA's problem now."
"Normally, I'd be all for throwing work on someone else, but this seems… inconvenient." My words got me a sympathetic glance from Shiba.
"There's not much more we can do on our end. Let's get these testimonies back to HQ. The money laundering task force should get this info as well. Poor guys, they'll be soul crushed. AI controlled money transfers out of the country to overseas accounts? Yikes." Hiura said as he walked away.
I threw out the piece of paper with the phone number on it in a waste bin near the entrance. I turned back to look once more into the opulent bank, etching it into my memory.
The few moments I had taken to do so had separated me from Shiba and Hiura. Hiura's car had been started and was idling with the owner in the driver's seat. I walked up and pulled on the passenger's side door. It was locked.
"It's locked." I noted.
Shiba rolled down the window, making me realize that he was sitting there. "Yes. It is locked."
"No shit, Sherlock." I exhaled. "Alright, I get it. I'll do backseat." I shifted over and tried pulling the second door to no avail. "What gives? I'm not in the mood for jokes right now."
Shiba rolled up the window and looked at Hiura. They exchanged some words in a conversation I couldn't hear despite my ears being centimeters away. Hiura nodded once and Shiba took a visibly deep breath before he lowered the glass between us once more.
"You live near here, don't you Senpai?"
"Yeah, like twenty minutes away with the subway. What does that－." It all clicked in my head. I narrowed my eyes at my coworkers. "So that's what you're playing at?"
"Senpai, you need to go home and sleep. The Chief's worried about you, and so are we."
"This was premeditated!" I accused, pointing at Hiura and Shiba. "This is mutiny! Betrayal! I'll have you two in cuffs!"
Shiba's eyes flashed in annoyance and he opened his mouth to say something before a new voice interrupted him.
"Hikigaya-san?"
My head turned towards the source. A man stood next to a long black car, a Rolls Royce if the ornament that adorned its hood was any indication. [2] He wore a perfectly pressed black suit with neatly combed hair that had flecks of gray to give an indication of his age. Not someone old per se, just someone more… experienced. What caught me most was the familiar blue eyes.
Oh shit.
"Yukinoshita...san…."
Yukinoshita Yoshirou. Currently a Diet member representing Chiba, with ambitions of running for Prime Minister. Owner and former CEO of one of the largest construction firms in all of Japan. Also the father of a certain district attorney and lawyer pair of sisters. And here he was, looking at me with a smile on his face, as if he was meeting with a friend he hadn't seen in a long time.
"Ah, I thought that was you, Detective Hikigaya!" Yukinoshita-san said jovially. "What a coincidence meeting you here!"
"I- uh- yeah… I mean yes!" I stammered. The charisma the man was exuding shot fear up my spine. He stepped forward and offered me a hand which I gingerly took. He shook my hand with vigor and a smile.
"What are you doing here?"
"We were- um- investigating something… at the bank." My tongue suddenly lost all grace in the presence of a higher being.
"Oh? And you're done? If you have the time, why don't you join me for some tea?"
I was ready to politely decline, but I had forgotten all about Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum in the car next to me.
"Perfect timing. Why don't you go and grab something to eat, Senpai?" Tweedle-Shiba suggested.
"Yeah! We'll punch out for you, no worries." Tweedle-Hiura assured.
Shiba brought up the window for the last time and the car drove off. They made off like bandits, with the tires squealing slightly as the car turned onto the street.
I sighed.
Chapter 22.33333...: "The Big Kahuna"
*Hikigaya Hachiman
*The Peninsula Hotel Cafe, Chiyoda Ward
[August 28th / 5:12 PM]
I traded one high class venue for another. I was seated on an exquisite leather chair in an expensive cafe that was within an equally expensive hotel. The silk curtains to my left spoke to some deep and instinctual part of my being that whispered in my mind. It told me I didn't belong here.
Yeah, Subconscious-gaya-kun. I think so too.
"Good afternoon, Yukinoshita-san. It's a pleasure to have you in our establishment again. Have you decided on your orders?" A waiter stood to the side of our table with a pad and pen. He wore a black vest and white shirt with legs covered by a white apron. Actually, isn't calling him a waiter sort of a disservice? Maybe a garçon? God, that sounds so pretentious.
"Hello again, Kino-kun." Yukinoshita-san greeted the garçon (bleh) with a smile and warmth one would reserve for a close friend. "And yes, I think we're ready. Can my friend and I have some green tea along with a set of the variety mochi to share?"
"Very good, Yukinoshita-san." The garçon (waiter?) jotted it down before turning towards me. "And for you, sir?"
I blinked. "Uhhhh… that's good enough to start?" I winced as my voice intonated upwards at the end, making it sound like a question. The waiter (garçon?) nodded and walked away, telling us he would be back shortly.
"This place makes delectable confectionaries. The sakura mochi is to die for. Oh, don't tell my wife! I'm supposed to be on a diet!" Yukinoshita-san gave me a charismatic wink that fit perfectly with his hundred-thousand yen smile.
"I-I see." How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? He was talking to me as if we were confidants. The worst part was that I was starting to believe we were. My fingers fiddled with the glass cup that held water and ice cubes.
"So tell me, Hikigaya-san. What has Tokishima Private Bank done to catch the watchful gaze of the police?" Yukinoshita-san flipped through the complimentary newspaper that was handed to him as we had entered the restaurant.
"... they just alerted us to a potential crime that occurred. We're not investigating them, exactly. I can't really say any more."
Good. Nice. Okay. I was still capable of coherent speech.
"Ah I see, I see! I was worried that the bank was in some trouble. Good to know I can stop on that end. They've financed some of my more ambitious ventures back when I was younger." The politician before me gave a hearty laugh. "I will say though, I am glad to see the younger generation so hard at work. Why, I never imagined you would become such a person when we first met."
Was that supposed to be an insult? Or a compliment?
My lack of a response didn't seem to bother Yukinoshita-san, who continued talking. "I heard you stopped by my home recently. I hope my wife and daughters showed you adequate hospitality?"
"O-of course!" I replied nervously. "It was... er... enjoyable."
He nodded in satisfaction. "Very good. My wife wishes to treat you to a proper meal, you must stop by again in the near future."
"Things are a bit busy right now with the police force… I'll keep that in mind."
"Of course, of course." Yukinoshita-san assured me with a smile. "Your job comes first, especially considering the importance of law-enforcers. Although speaking of dinner, my youngest seems to be around for supper less and less as of late. Are you the culprit?"
I saw the predatory glint in his eyes, which had me break out in a cold sweat.
"N-no!" I quickly denied, my mind quickly trying to search for a proper response that wouldn't have me killed. "There's been a few reunions lately. Old classmates and meeting Hiratsuka-sensei and all."
"Hiratsuka? Ah, the teacher from Soubu. Very good. I'm glad to see that Yukino is keeping in touch with her friends. True companions will always remain with you, no matter the time nor distance."
"Y-yes." I was a bit more than a little guilty at that last one.
"I won't hand my daughter over to you."
"E-excuse me?"
I'm dead. Komachi, I'm sor－
"Sorry, I'm just kidding. Wanted to try saying that for once."
I gave a weak laugh to the beaming smile on the face of the father of one of my oldest friends who was also one of the most powerful individuals in the country. The juxtaposition had me feeling faint.
"I am curious, if I remember correctly Hiratsuka-sensei had her last year at Chiba during your second year. I heard from Haruno that she was married?"
"Yes, she was. To Tsurumi Kenji, the Police Chief at the Tokyo Police Department." I gave a measured response.
"Ahhhh, well congratulations and well wishes to her. I hear he is an upstanding man."
Before I could agree with him, our waiter (garçon?) came with two platters balanced gracefully on either hand. He placed both down, saucers with cups of green tea placed neatly before us and a small platter of pastel colored orbs between us.
Yukinoshita-san quickly reached forward and plucked a pink mochi with his fingers and ate with a small sound of satisfaction. I was momentarily shocked by the lack of table manners. This seemed like something I would only see the younger Yukinoshita do on her deathbed.
"Delicious as always," Yukinoshita-san said. "You know, I have become quite familiar with the Tsurumis as of late. I have had multiple meetings with the elder brother, Lieutenant Colonel Tsurumi Kenta to discuss matters with the military between Diet meetings."
My hand that was reaching for the chopsticks to my side stopped. The Captain met with Yukinoshita's dad? The CO was in Tokyo? Hold on, Lieutenant Colonel!? I didn't hear about any of this!
"Erm… uh…" My lips flapped intelligently , while I tried to process the information that was dumped on me.
"He's quite the knowledgeable man. And very honest as well." Yukinoshita-san informed, finishing off the mochi he was working on before reaching for another. "The Diet recently approved monetary investment to expand the Public Security and Intelligence Agency in the wake of the recent terrorist attack.
"The hostage situation at the Fillipino Embassy has everyone in an uproar. I felt it was necessary to talk to an expert to see what more we can do to avoid such situations in the future. The Colonel was very forthcoming with advice, although it does upset me that money is being diverted away from social programs for this."
He sighed with a defeated smile. "Another bill is in the works, pushed by the Conservatives and the hawks. They want to approve stronger arms for security forces within our country. Such as giving submachine guns and assault rifles to the police force. Concerns are rising about such a plan, as our immigration policies are also in flux. We still have refugee's lining our borders, and we may well be adding fuel to the fire."
"I…."
"To top it all off, they want to divert funds away from the immigration of those poor refugees to start development of a new service pistol and begin mass production within two years. It's like they imagine that money grows on trees. Our economy can't handle all of this. We need a workforce as soon as possible."
"..."
Yukinoshita-san closed his mouth before giving me a sheepish smile. "I apologize. I've been sitting through these Diet meetings and it has not been pleasant with all this talk about war and violence."
"I… understand," I said slowly. "There's a need to get it off the chest."
"Exactly! You are truly an understanding individual. If only we had more of your kind of person within the government, things would surely improve for the better."
"You're overselling me a bit there."
A chuckle from the senator made it clear he thought I was joking.
"Is that so? Still, I wish to know the perspective of a law-enforcer such as yourself. What do you think of the steps Japan is taking?"
My mouth dried at the question. My opinion? Why did my opinion matter? Was I some sort of representative for the police force in his eyes? I shivered, perturbed by the thought train. My thoughts were worthless, Sri Lanka made that clear. Please stop. This responsibility is too much. Don't place so much import on a failure like me.
"I worry about the future of Japan." Yukinoshita-san continued, not waiting for me to say anything. Ah, okay. It was a rhetorical question. He was still venting. Good. "My family lives here. My ancestors lived here. We have so much to look back on, both good and bad. I can't shake the feeling that our current path is a mistake."
"Violence begets more violence," I said. "People don't like being put in danger. Guns pointed in one direction tend to attract more guns in return."
"Yes! That's my thinking exactly!" Yukinoshita-san said with a pleased smile. "We all want to build a safer Japan, but this road we are taking seems… counterintuitive. But I will do my part to make my dream a reality. And I have to thank you for helping me do so, Hikigaya-san."
"H-huh? I didn't do anything."
"Did you not become a detective? And before that, did you not serve as a member of our armed forces?"
"... that wasn't…"
"Hikigaya-san." Yukinoshita-san's voice dropped to a gentle tone. A fatherly one. "Humility is a good trait, but all things must be in moderation. Too much humility frustrates those that hear it. You have chosen a career path that you should be proud of. Putting your own safety on the line so that others may sleep in peace. How many mothers can send their children to school without fear? How many civilians do not worry about the future because you ensure that it will be safe? You help keep the peace. If I was to be honest, you're doing more than me in building that peaceful Japan."
I couldn't find the words anywhere. He was overselling it. He was just... I was not the person he was describing. Nobility was not a factor in my actions… it was…
Yukinoshita-san was simply wrong. The fact that Japan was becoming more militant was proof. I did what I did because I was trying to run away from that Jungle. A futile effort, as this conversation had made me realize. I can't run away from the Jungle because the Jungle was everywhere now. Spreading across the world like the most virulent of tropical diseases that threw the world and the people in it into fevers and frenzies.
"I…"
"You are an amazing person, Detective. You saved my daughters, both of them. I can't thank you enough, yet you go and do more. Truly selfless. We need more men and women of your caliber and fortitude in the world."
My mouth went dry, and I was suddenly aware of a stone that was stuck in the middle of my throat. I did not like where this conversation was going.
"Detective Hikigaya, you are a hero. You are the type of person this country desperately needs."
Hero.
A hero.
He just called me a….
Probably interpreting my silence as embarrassment, Yukinoshita gave me a wry smile. "I'm sure my daughters think the same. My wife as well. You are a hero to us, and surely to all those you have helped."
Yukinoshita… thought I was a hero? No. No way. She knows me… knows me better than that. I'm not a…
I couldn't be.
No.
I shouldn't be.
A person like me wasn't a hero. In fact, heroes died because of people like me.
"...thank you…" Swallowing everything and my despair, I lied with the straightest face I could muster.
I finished the tea and waved away Yukinoshita-san who offered me some of the mochi. I was forced to have one of the matcha ones at the end. The older man refused to let me pay for my part of the bill, footing the entire thing. He even offered to drive me home, but I had managed to turn him down.
"Have a good evening, Detective Hikigaya. Consider this an official invitation to have dinner with us in the near future, we would love to have you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
He offered a hand, which I took reluctantly. Yukinoshita-san's hand felt like fire. Or was that because my own hand felt like ice?
"Please continue the good work." He said.
Continue? How could I continue something that never started?
Chapter 22.666666...: "Don't Forget"
*Hikigaya Hachiman
*Apartment, Shibuya
[August 28th / 10:10 PM ]
It was evening. Evening meant dinner.
I was trying to eat a late meal made of leftovers from someday that I couldn't recall. My chopsticks were held between the fingers of my right hand while my left hand sat idly by the bowl of rice. I don't think I even microwaved the rice. I had just shoved it out of a tub that I had kept in the refrigerator. I stared at the cold white grains, hoping that it would stimulate even a little bit of my appetite. But my stomach had turned to stone at some point.
The clock in the living room ticked rhythmically, each movement echoing throughout the room.
⸢There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it.⸥
"..."
⸢A Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head.⸥
"..." I said nothing, and slowly put my chopsticks down by the side of the bowl. A slow swell of nausea assaulted me, threatening to become a tidal wave in a few moments time.
⸢"Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse," thought Alice; "only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind."⸥
The voice stopped speaking, and hummed in contemplation. "Yes, I would say it doesn't mind. Do you? Mr. Dormouse?"
My head throbbed once more and I forced myself to open my eyes. I was at my usual seat at the foot of the table, but the chair to my right was occupied. There sat a young man in a bright orange hoodie with a single white patch on his left breast. Long and thin effeminate fingers held a small leather-bound book with no title. He sported a Cheshire grin, which seemed utterly out of place when considering that he had a hole in the center of his head from which a single drop of blood trailed down over his nose.
"Is there really a need to recite back Alice in Wonderland?" My voice was scratchy and rough. I almost sounded like I was begging.
"Poor, Mr. Dormouse. Poor, poor, Mr. Dormouse." Ouma Daichi cooed mockingly at me. "Suffering so clearly and so obviously, yet a condition so natural that others can't help but assume you're not bothered."
"... it's fine." I growled.
My answer seemed to stun Ouma momentarily before he leaned back in his chair howling in laughter like a madman. "Ah! You are far too entertaining, Detective Hikigaya! Too much! Has anyone told you that you are intriguing to the highest degree?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Tsk, tsk." Ouma waved a finger and clicked his tongue at me in disappointment. "Let's not engage in this song and dance, Detective. Convincing oneself of a lie may be an impressive skill, but like Cinderella, the magic must eventually fade. Come face reality with me."
How dare he.
"I have been facing reality. All this time. I had to."
"Come now. You don't believe that yourself, do you? Afterall, if a problem is never acknowledged it can never be a problem, yes? Life is all sunshine and rainbows when you simply refuse to see the thunderstorms and wildfires."
"It doesn't need to be that nice. I'm fine with what's here right now."
"Curious… you pride yourself on facing reality yet you seem to be forgetting the past. Where have we heard this before? Surviving in a hell because 'I'm fine'? Bravo! Bravo, Detective! You live in a fantastical world built from the convenient oversights of reality. This is so contradictory to who you are, I believe we will need to add a third 'H' to your name. For 'hypocrite.'"
"..."
"A boy bullied and ostracized in his youth, just wanting to help people because he loved how it made him feel. To be needed, to be appreciated, all the warm things a child would need. But you received none."
"... people are horrible creatures, I learned at that age."
"Yet, you still craved the compliments. You still felt that nice fuzzy feeling deep inside, even if the people around could not stand to look at you. And you hated yourself for it."
"..." I clenched my right hand, and was met with the sound of my knuckles popping.
"It is perfectly reasonable, Hikigaya. To want to be close to others is perfectly human, but the one issue with your methodology… was you."
"..."
"You did not know how to get close to others. You were afraid of the rejection, yet you desired that feeling of altruism. That tiny burst of ecstasy that you get when you have done something to give your existence value. So you helped others hoping for that self-assurance. You thought that no matter how much you hurt yourself, you could always stand up and convince yourself that you had become something more. Hilarious!"
Cue another round of laughter that resembled a hyena and was accentuated with wheezing.
"How far we have fallen. You probably sit back sometimes and wonder how things have gotten here. The need to help others in high school evolves into a disease where you must save others. You still hate that you're here."
"I had… broken a promise." I breathed out. "I forgot a lesson I thought I learned."
"Self-blame? Aww, enough with the delusions, Detective! You did not forget the lesson, you realized how flawed it was in the jungles of Sri Lanka. Don't tell me you forgot about Mina? Small little lass, perhaps a meter in height. She was great at tying baskets, and she even tried to teach you! Oh how time flies, I wonder if her body is still where you left it… Hmm, on second thought, it's probably been eaten by vultures or other animals by now. A shame."
"What do you want with me?"
Ouma blinked owlishly. "Me? Detective, I am here because of you. I should be asking you what you want. I can't tell you how or why you survived that jungle, but I can tell you that happiness is a fleeting thing. So what do you want? Catharsis? Nirvana? Enlightenment? A raison d'être?" [3]
"..."
"You exist purely to help others. The entire basis of your being was born from it, and was molded by it. But you know not all can be saved, so you avert your eyes to the ones outside of your purview, and compromise to save the one you can. A true lesson, hard-won in that year. Even now, this job that you do and the cases that you take, it is not what you tell yourself. You know, that deep down inside, you are doing this for yourself. You do not actually care about the others, you just want to feel good."
"No… I…."
"Face the music, my dear friend." Ouma leaned back in his seat, now suddenly holding my copy of The Conquest of Happiness. "Lets see… Chapter 16: 'Effort and Resignation.' Ah, here we are: 'Truth however, is not always interesting, and many things are believed because they are interesting. The uninteresting doctrine in many cases, is the truth.' "
"Interest means little to me, that's a fact. You know this."
"Is that right? Interest can also mean desire, you know?"
"... desire?"
"A teenager who perhaps found the one thing in his life that gave him meaning without his own perception. You treasured it like a fragile candle, and when the flames nipped at your hands you were suddenly protected by those around you. Like a fairy-tale. But all good things come to an end and when that source was to leave, you panicked. You suddenly realized what you had done, what weaknesses you had allowed to develop. How that 'good feeling' was now with someone else rather than a construct within your own mind."
"I just wanted… the best… for all."
"'All?'" Ouma scoffed. "What about you?"
"Why do I matter? I don't deserve to matter."
"Yes. Yes, you do not. You made the decisions. You brought this upon yourself. Can you still look that man in the face?"
"..."
"It is rather romantic, really. A young boy who let himself fall to weakness and selfishness and was coming crashing down finds himself face to face with a man so much greater than he could have imagined."
"... stop. He wasn't like that. I never push expectations onto people."
"Whoever said anything about expectations? This man was exactly as you saw. This is not simple idolatry, it is far more visceral. It is hot-blooded hero-worship. After all, you saw this man for what he was. You saw him stand in the face of soul crushing adversity and tragedy with unflinching strength. He dedicated his life to helping others and he found solace in that. It is obvious, really. He was all that you ever wanted to be. You wanted to be like him."
"..."
"Rather than pushing expectations on other people, you did the opposite. You pushed expectations upon yourself. Hope. A hope, that perhaps you could be just like him if you found that something like he did. And so you followed down his path without a second thought. A path that led you straight to the military."
"He…"
"... it was in your moment of weakness when all was crashing down that he gave you guidance inadvertently. And now you're wondering why things turned out this way."
"Oh.…"
"I see you understand now. Hikigaya, you are the cause. You could not just shoulder a little sliver unhappiness. The miniscule taste of that bliss was too strong to let go. Pathetic."
"..."
"You lived while others died. There is no answer. No reasoning. Accept it. You know what you have to do."
"... give this life some meaning. Justify my existence."
"Exactly. Or else why keep living? " Ouma gave me a smile. "Don't forget about me, promise?"
"Never."
Δ▼Δ
My eyes suddenly fluttered open and my flank throbbed painfully. I was dazed, but recognized the hardwood floor beneath me. The chair I had been sitting on tumbled over and laid on its side. My abdomen ached and I noticed my bowl of rice also on the floor, the contents littering about like little specks of paint.
I must have fallen out of my chair. I rolled over onto my back, ignoring the bursts of agony. The wall clock said it was 2:33AM on August 29th.
"Fuck me…"
At least it couldn't get worse.
"Hachiman!"
… me and my big mouth.
There was another presence in the room. I turned my head to see Shizuka looking at me with a look of horror on her face. The plastic bag she held in her hands slipped and fell to the floor.
"Oh… hey there… uhh… this isn't the worst thing you've seen me do?" I joked awkwardly.
Shizuka rushed over to my side and knelt. "What happened!? Are you alright? Can you sit up?"
I grunted as she helped me sit up. "Nothing major… I think I fell asleep while I was eating dinner."
"Din－" Shizuka's words stopped as she looked over at the floor and the debris I dropped. "There's only rice! And you dropped from sitting on a chair!"
I coughed. "I can't cook, you know that. And I'm not the most coordinated individual, no need to stick it to me."
Shizuka's face was grim, my poor attempt at wit not having gone over well. "Rumi said she was going to stop by and make dinner for you tonight!"
"Oh… I think I got home pretty late." Silly Hachiman, how could you?
"... you're avoiding her Hachiman. You knew what time she comes over. I know that you knew this."
Dammit, seen right through. But the captain goes down with their ship… of lies.
"No idea what you're talking about."
"Kenji said you're doing it again. You're collapsing in on yourself. Hachiman, please..."
"... it's a pretty major case." I murmured, looking away in guilt.
"Is that why Haruno said you were avoiding her and Yukinoshita too?"
I resisted the urge to curl into a ball and pretend I wasn't hearing any of this.
"I don't know what's worse." Shizuka sighed. "For a second I was afraid that I had to break a teenager's heart. I thought that maybe you decided to start something with Yukinoshita so you were avoiding Rumi, but then you didn't talk to her either. And instead I find you keeled over on the floor... I thought you were dead."
"Sorry.…"
"'Sorry' doesn't cut it mister." She rebuked me softly, fingers wiping premature tears from her eyes before her hand came up to rest on my forehead and get a feel for my temperature. Her fingers were warm to the touch, filled with life.
"Just… okay, fine. I'm tired." I admitted. "Let me go to sleep and I'll be right as rain tomorrow."
"Nice try." Shizuka pulled me up and shoved me into my room where she pulled out a coat from my dresser and threw it over my shoulders like a makeshift blanket.
"Wha－!" I tried to protest, but the married woman threw me a glare that stifled any rebellion my brain was concocting.
"You're coming to our house." She quickly shook her head, realizing the ambiguity in her words. "No, you're STAYING at our house until further notice."
"I can't do that!"
"Overruled. You go to work from our house, you come back from work to our house. You live there, you sleep there, you eat there, you piss there. You STAY there. You STAY with US. Understand?"
"... yes, ma'am."
"Good. Now pack your things. I'll let your mother and Komachi know about this."
A bit of warmth ignited within me, but I thought I heard something whisper to me from the back of my head.
Hikigaya, you are the cause.
You could not just suck up a little unhappiness.
That little taste of that bliss was too strong to let go.
Pathetic.
I looked over at Shizuka as she neatly folded my dress shirts for work. Was this also part of that little bliss I was now addicted to? Could I protect it if it meant letting it go? Could I let it go?
I just didn't know anymore. But I knew I couldn't lose sight of it. I wasn't allowed to leave it behind.
Don't forget about me, promise?
I let out a shaky breath.
"Never."
Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"
References:
[1] A reference to Fire Emblem Awakening. Fredrick's critical hit dialogue is "Pick a god and pray." Man is an absolute unit.
[2] Rolls Royce's have a signature little statue on its hood called the Spirit of Ecstasy. It can cost up to $15,000 to replace it.
[3] "Raison d'être" is a French expression that means "reason for being." Meant to describe one's purpose in life or why they keep living.
Author's Note:
We return back to the crime plot in earnest, with a new discovery increasing the scale of the whole mystery. Implications of things to come start to trickle down to our heroes, and they're not pleased. I enjoyed writing the banter at the start, as it felt like a breath of fresh air simply just giving some life and personality to these characters as people beyond plot mechanic/delivery service.
Yukinoshita's father makes an appearance and actually has speaking lines. A few of them, in fact. It was hard to try and decide how to write a career politician who helped build the construction dynasty (there is a backstory to that I'll reveal in a later chapter). In the end I settled on: "extremely charismatic, but off putting in their mannerisms." How well did this come across? Let me know. There's some more world building that explains the situation in Japan as a whole.
The last two scenes were very difficult to compose. I want to make things clear that Hachiman has no supernatural power, he's just hallucinating. The ghost of Ouma is a mental demon, or in other words is a projection of his subconscious. This is important because the distinction is that this isn't actually Ouma's departed soul, but Hachiman's perception of who he thought Ouma was.
The realization was made that there was a severe lack of best-girl so I added in some Shizuka parts. I think it came out well and it expresses how much care Shizuka has for him, one of the few strong-armed matron figures in his life.
My last note is that if you wish to keep up to date with the status of writing, I'm mostly active on SpaceBattles. You can find me easily by googling 'Unmade' and 'SpaceBattles.' I would post the link on my profile, but links are currently broken so I'm not touching that.
-SouBU
(Editors: Lord of Admirals; Xynovitch)
Revision Log:
03/17/2020: Extended author's note.