…
…
A man rushed towards the train that stood at the second platform of Shinonoi Station. His casual coat became more and more undone with each haste step, until a camera attached to a strip around his neck slipped out from the cover. He noticed that, and stuck it back in the next moment as his form slalomed between the mass of people in raw, unadulterated desperation. He did not care about the opinions of others, his line of work required him not to take those to heart. He did not care whether people found his presence noticeable or he slipped behind the cover—however, at that moment he wished to be the latter, an unnoticed detail to slip behind comprehension.
Michitaka knew a corruption case from a mile. His newspaper and television channel reached success because of political critiques. He had exposed corruption cases around a dozen in number and sometimes, even the police appreciated his work. He appeared to find entertainment in that particular part of the media because there had to be a reason someone would push on despite the countless threats delivered to his address each week. He would not tell that the constant chance of an assassination attempt towards his boss made him feel secure, but so far, there had been a borderline. A borderline that the small fries like him were not threatened.
He should have been smarter at the time his boss walked into the editor room, took a seat in a theatrical manner and told them in the face that those who were afraid should walk out the door. He should have taken the chance to leave. He should not have hesitated for a moment, but the sudden seriousness shocked him too much to think or move. He should have known where the case was headed when a picture of that politician was pinned to the whiteboard and his supposed deals were up for confirmation. He should have known to leave when the weird instructions came around like have a camera and start a record whenever someone acted suspicious.
He elbowed into someone in his rush.
"Hey, are you okay—"
He reached the platform amidst the flashes of colours the people were, in their coats and backpacks and—he latched onto the frame of the train and pulled himself inside. His hands rested on his knees as he heard the door hiss close and the train start to move. He reached the train in the nick of time, and he knew that a moment more, a stumble, an unneeded conversation or a distraction, and he would not been able to make it and he would be much dead in hours.
He had seen that politician amidst a number of men clad in black. He had believed that an abduction was about to happen on record and had a hand reach for his phone to call the police when the situation took a suspicious turn—no, he noticed that the interaction was suspicious. He noticed that the politician did not act submissive to protect himself from the men, no. His presence inflicted fear in the men. His confusion was cut short when the politician looked in his direction, into the lens, a look that was so, so much different compared to the public face. He had never witnessed so much malicious intent and threat in one person, like a switch was flipped—
He slumped into a free seat and tried to catch his breath. He needed to leave. He could not report to the police based on a personal impression and to think about the matter, he did not even have evidence that those men were connected to the politician, but he was not stupid. He knew what he saw, and he started to understand. He started to understand the trouble he was in and that he should have known to leave. He had not left and that transformed his life into a piece on a chess board, but he would make sure that a psychopath would not become the mayor. He needed water to be able to speak, and then, a cell phone.
He uncapped his bottle and started to drink—
…
His heart pounded once more.
His heart pounded no more.
…
…
"Watanabe Isshin, thirty-one years old." A picture of a dead man in a train was tossed to the table. "He worked at Michitaka News as a journalist. His cause of death was determined to have been unforeseen heart failure. So, what do the three of you have to say about the case?"
Morofushi stood the stare of the police superintendent with casual ease. He was aware of more information than the other two police detectives hauled in were, and knew that his presence at the informal round of questions was more for appearance than actual blame. He showed a hint of concern nevertheless, but that was directed towards his superior. He looked bothered, and the fact that that bother was visible on the outside spoke volumes about the importance of the issue. He had been in the capital in the past month but returned as promised for the elections. He respected his secrets, and understood, and would do what was asked from him to further the cause.
He ushered the others to speak up. He was the cover to hide the true intentions of the questions, not the one who needed to answer. He looked towards them—anxiousness radiated from their posture. He knew what detectives in the prefectural police hid and it was not nice, to understate the matter. He would have never believed that that could be a real issue in the police without the indications around him. He did not want to believe that there were others too—
Saegusa was a detective with curls of beard and moustache, and a nonchalant attitude to complement the picture. He was the member of that squad, as he dubbed them, and that worthed suspicion. He felt bad because of his suspicions towards his coworkers, but he did that to ensure their innocence. He would help the superintendent to prove that a fraction of the police was corrupt, because in the case the accusation turned out to be untrue, their innocence would be proved instead—no, he knew that the accusation was true. He knew that the prefectural police could not be trusted, but an idealist part of himself wanted to believe that the darkness stopped at him.
"There is not much that can be said, Kuroda-kanrikan. His death was of natural causes."
Kuroda was not convinced, and neither was he.
"Witnesses stated that he drank from his bottle before he collapsed. You must have accounted for poison."
"And we did. The bottle was tested for all known poisons and none of them came back positive."
Kano was a calm person, who followed the rules to the letter. He would have never suspected him had he been on another squad, but in this case, he needed to consider the chance that one could follow the rules to the letter and still break them—however, he could not counter his statement. He checked the details, and indeed, the poison test was not positive on either the bottle or the contents spilled over the scene. Not a poison, then—at least not a known one.
Kuroda tapped on his desk next to the case file.
"And his camera?"
Kano was quick to respond. "He did have a camera attached to a strip around his neck, as shown on the photos the forensics have taken. However, when we checked the tape, it was empty. This is all that we could find. I have no better idea than a natural death."
"And his cell phone?"
"No clues there either."
He was as frustrated as the superintendent that at another case—however, no evidence was no evidence. He suspected that those two had tampered with evidence where he was not there to watch, but there was no evidence of that. He knew that the superintendent knew that too.
"You can leave and continue your work."
He was about to turn around—
…
"You remain here, Morofushi."
…
He waited for the others to shut the door and then, faced the superintendent—he was frustrated so much that he punched the table. He could somewhat understand his sentiment, while he had no direct subordinates, he would be furious if he had and those covered up a murder. He looked at the photo of the victim, the case files scattered a bit at the punch—another victim the darkness that lurked in the prefecture claimed, that darkness that lurked in the prefecture from the elitest parties to the smallest settlements in the mountainside. There was a reason the superintendent wanted to return for the elections, a season when the number of unexplainable deaths increased.
"There was evidence on the camera." Kuroda stated. "Michitaka has told his men to record all the time for evidence should this happen. It is suspicious that the camera of a media associate is a clean sheet. Those two were tasked with the evidence, it had to be them—"
Michitaka was the owner of a news agency, that much he knew himself. He did not know about the connection the superintendent shared with the person, but he suspected a better kind of machination at work, a one that would uncover the truth when the official means could not be trusted.
"What will happen now—"
He wondered out aloud. He was known as a remarkable tactician in the police, but when the opponent became monumental or slipped inside their ranks, he was at a loss. His mind wandered to his childhood for a brief moment, a senior officer flashed before his metal eyes.
Kuroda was not much better than him.
…
…
Yamato checked the time on his watch in a brief moment, then snapped his attention back to the white stripes on the middle of the road between almost identical sides of landscape. He slammed the brakes to take a sharp turn towards the houses at the foot of the mountain. He would not have been able to drive to the exact location the dispatchers had thrown at them himself had that not been close to his home. He was a rural kid: the mountain serpentines were not unknown to him. His childhood friend was too—he could not understand the sentimental bullshit coated in incessant tease about his accident he convinced him with to take his car instead of his own.
He had indeed been in an accident that cost him half his vision, and the cane laid on the backseat for a reason. He would even admit not to be the best driver around, but—he was not made of porcelain because of that. He was more interested in the fact that his accident had not been not an accident, implied in the words the superintendent had chosen when his coma ended at last—ah, that came as a shock to him with all the important stuff he had missed out and so. He felt like a nap and bam—his coworkers worked on different cases, all he knew was different. His kind of childhood crush even left the police and married some random dude.
He stepped on the accelerator on accident—kind of.
He was ahead of the snails—aham, the forensics and the detectives. He did not know even one them. He cared a hundred times more about the murder reported near the abandoned piece of rural landscape around him. A rather unusual place for a murder—the local communities would not have a murderer within themselves, but not unusual for a townsperson to dump a corpse in—the mountains where those idiots believed there was no police. Like hell!
He pulled the handbrakes to stop besides the intended house. He took the cane from the backseat and leaped from the car with momentum. His cane touched the winter soil under his feet as he looked around for human presence. He was puzzled a bit—in cases in connection with violent crimes, police were awaited. He did not think much to the unusualness. He had permission to enter whether the inhabitants were cooperative or not, and he did so to find a couple of unconscious men face to the snow beside the path towards the house. He poked one of their sides with his cane—a twitch, but the person did not wake. He wondered what had happened.
He stood up at the sound from the direction of the door—
"Kan-chan?!"
He was surprised to find his childhood friend in the doorframe, and she was even more surprised—of course, he had been in coma for a while. He scratched his head about what to tell her, but then, decided to remain with a familiar domain of detective work.
"Uehara, what the hell happened here?"
"Torada Tatsue happened. Her men tried to attack when her crimes were revealed." Her voice turned sad, but at the same time—proud. "Kai-san died because of her. Her associates were involved in serious bets and that he won each time was a hindrance to their business. Her motive was that much—she shot at his horse when he practised and made him fall into a deep. There are witnesses, their side is a little complicated, but there are. And her current actions worth a conviction too."
He stood there as he tried to process the infodump.
"You—"
"You—"
He rushed towards her as his cane allowed.
"You solved that case—!"
"You woke up—!"
…
Uehara broke the silence.
"I will explain. You have to meet some people—"
…
…
He tried to stare down the teen that had the nerve to pretend to be police—however, he did not fold, he stared back with defiance. His friends behind him were a little intimidated, which was the normal reaction to his newfound external appearance based on the reactions from the past two months. He could not bother less. He had never been a warm person, nor he had to be. He wanted others to answer his questions, for which the intimidation factor could be even useful.
He had to admit that was counterproductive in this case, so he broke the stare.
"You think this was the work of an outsider."
Kudo, or whatever his name was looked towards the corpse at their feet. He asked the bunch to lead him to the scene, which was an expected mess. He appraised the circumstances and realised that the situation could be used to question the bunch about the motivations his former subordinate could not twist out of them. He watched the teen squat down with casual ease next to the pile of dead flesh and dried blood, looked around with more care, and pointed at a certain part of floor.
"Look at the floor. There are clean-cut blood stains all around near the corpse, from which we can determine that the corpse was not moved post mortem. Also, the room is trashed, which means that there must have been a scuffle between the victim and the culprit beforehand. That proves that the corpse was not dumped here, but the murder happened here. I would like to point out before the blame war that anyone could have climbed over the fence outside."
"And because both families would fall under immediate suspicion, it is unplausible that the culprit is from one of those. I would think based on the circumstantial evidences that an outsider tried to frame them, either on purpose or to disrupt police work—and you seem to be on the same opinion."
He finished the observation. He had to admit that the teen was not all talk.
"That is one point. Another is that we know the victim."
The what—
"You should have started with that!"
He noticed how the teen looked towards the door at his shout. He was too damn paranoid.
"The truth is, we are on the run from a crime syndicate, and—ah." He noticed the questions bile up in his throat, and hushed him. "Let me finish. This story is quite the complicated one, however, the immediate factor that have led to this murder is here."
He pointed at a woman in the back, who introduced herself.
"Miyano Akemi, nice to meet you."
…
"—so, is she the culprit?"
"No. I would not allow her to move around free in that case. However, the victim was a member of the aforementioned syndicate, a one who failed the deliver the expected results—or, to be more precise, turned on his fellow criminals. His actions meant the punishment of his partners too, and that includes her. Miyano-san used to be one of the team too, until she switched sides and we took her into our protection. I have suspected that the murder was related to our issue as soon as we were informed about it—we were mistaken for the police upon arrival, and went with that so that our suspicion could be confirmed. It was true."
Uehara was shocked.
"You never told me about that—"
He was sceptical too—he meant, this was a teen in front of him. He should have been in school or whatever, not on the run from criminals. However, he knew as well that what he told was far from impossible, and in case it was true, the police had to support them however possible.
He pointed at his former subordinate.
"You have made a deal with her. You requested her assistance as a former police detective with the cold case, which was also solved, and offered the whole truth as compensation, and that end of the deal will be enforced no matter what. You will come to the station, tell me about all there is to know about this situation. I will tell the issue to the superintendent. You will be most likely placed in police protection. Miyano-san too, she is an important witness."
He received the expected reaction from the back.
"Kudo, the situation is solved! The police will be able to hide us!"
"You did it, Shinichi!"
He was more interested in the lack of reaction from the teen himself.
"I appreciate the concern but police protection has failed in our case once. You know little about our insane situation and it would be the best if that remained so. Your superintendent would be too suspicious about me." He smiled at the last part, and he wondered who the hell he was. He was not a normal teen, that much was certain. He racked his mind for the name once more, and found it familiar from somewhere— "I do not intend to break the deal. I will come to the station, Yamato-keibu."
…
…
Yoshiro expected to be taken to the police station. He had admitted to have tried to harm someone, which while had not been the exact reason, but contributed to the death of the person nevertheless. He expected to be held at least somewhat responsible too, as soon as the true mastermind and her associates were dished out a sentence. He looked towards the other police car ahead, in which those people sat in handcuffs—such measures were deemed unneeded in his case. He was seated into the car and told that a detailed explanation would be required to clear his involvement, for which he would be taken to the police headquarters.
He let loose a breath he had held since the revelation and leaned into the seat. His head lulled to the side, and his attention wandered to the woman behind the wheel, the woman whom he had loved as his wife and who was, in reality, a police officer hell bent to solve the case. He supposed that was karma for his feeble attempts to hide to truth, to have the woman he trusted above all be the person to discover his secrets and use those to uncover the uncomfortable truth.
He was not blind. He had suspected that her love for him, while emphasized on several occasions as a reassurance, was fake. He did not mean that she did not care, he could recall several times her honest assistance had helped him out, but her care leaned more towards friendship instead of romance—a suspicious kind of friendship at that, with the constant questions and doubts that sometimes surfaced with more vehemence than could be normal.
He had no doubt in his mind that their relationship came to an end.
Her voice carried irritation.
"I understand that you were afraid, but you should have—"
"I know."
…
His voice carried shame.
"Listen. I know that this is over, but—"
"I know."
…
"I take this is divorce."
…
…
Shinichi bored into the reddened horizon in the distance. He was astounded at how much—no, at how little time had passed. He felt like to have escaped the hospital attack a mere hour before. His path was paved with malicious intentions and unexpected coincidences with a resolution to point his mission in a new direction. His attention turned from the sky to the interior of the car, which took him to the prefectural police headquarters, and the familiar detective behind the wheel.
He was pleased with the newest additions to his informal team of allies. His secret intention was to make the former police detective drop the former part. Her personal attachment to that cold case had blocked her potential—oh, she had that. He had known her as a detective and could state with confidence that her potential was too valuable to be let to fade into oblivion in a mountainside settlement. Yamato shared the same potential—too bad that the two of them suspected little about what was to come. He could not blame them for that—one of them had been in coma until the recent times and the other had been preoccupied with personal matters.
He looked forwards to meet the last of the police trio that was capable to stand up to the hardest cases to come. He was disheartened at the fate the future dished out for him, but respected his drive to oppose the oppression with his own methods. His resistance was not conspicuous. His resistance did not scream resistance, and somehow, it was more useful than any other. He had used his shameful connections and used them to help however possible. He decided to use his visit at the police headquarters to initiate a conversation with him. He needed his connections, however unorthodox, to hide someone important. He had in the future.
…
Morofushi Takaaki.
He had to demolish certain believes before that.
…
…
Morofushi was relieved when the newest case needed to be documented turned out to be unrelated to the earlier death. He considered even one too much, let alone multiple ones within the span of a hours—and he used whatever could be used as a distraction from his helpless situation. He did not mind to work overtime for that bless—even if he went home and tried to rest, his mind would not allow him a moment until he cooked up at least one useful idea on how to take out the trash from the ranks of the police. His conscious could not stomach the idea that criminals hid amidst the people supposed to uphold the law, but then, he remembered himself.
He remembered the circumstances that introduced him to the invisible evil. He remembered the envelope with the shattered cell phone inside—his brother used that kind. He could not be sure from that alone, but the fact that the cell phone had a bullet hole and dried blood added to his complete lack of contact with his brother pointed towards a horrible end. His brother was police too, however, not normal police—NPA PSB, the secret department. His line of work demanded him to accept death as a possible outcome in certain missions, but his brother was determined, and even as the older brother, he lacked the control to prevent the decision.
(He had been introduced to one of his friends, a blonde face. His brother had had a close friendship with him, and had been one of the people who helped his brother overcome his childhood trauma and want to make a difference. He had been so happy to see his brother happy and that made him lenient towards his life choices and that was the mistake that led him down that dark road and he could not even know what killed him because of a damned word called "classified"—)
"Komei."
"Komei!"
He snapped up to the irritated face of his childhood friend.
He happened to look at the printer that had produced a dozen extra copies of the case file. He leaped to stop the waste, then snatched the sheets on the top and slid them into the folder while the rest landed in the doodle paper pile. He heard a cane on the floor approach him.
"Have you lost your edge in the past years?" Kansuke raised a brow at his uncharacteristic carelessness. He was not careless, he wanted to retort, he was lost in his own problems. "Nah, nevermind. I can always take over your workload too."
"I believe we have more witnesses to question."
"Indeed. That bunch will be a handful."
He shoved his concerns into the back of his mind so that those would not interfere with his work. He wanted a distraction, and there was his distraction. He prepared himself a fast coffee and then, seated himself, opened his notebook and fetched his pen to note important details. He had to question four outsiders, who had happened to stumble over the case, and the files were ready. He doubted that more information could resurface when the situation was clear—clear, expect the recent murder that somehow did not fit into the picture, like a last piece that was from another puzzle set, and the words his friend addressed to him were bothersome too.
He looked up when the door opened. He almost dropped his pen when he saw her—Yui. He had heard the name mentioned in previous testimonies, but he filed that as a coincidence in names. He knew in that moment that there was a familiar face behind the familiar name.
Kansuke cleared his throat.
"Aham. Uehara is here. Turns out the family she married into was the Toradas."
His suspicions were confirmed in that sentence. He found the fact that his other childhood friend, an enthusiastic police detective, would decide to quit and settle for a quiet life for no obvious reason weird. He would not have had problem with that should that be the truth, but based on her character, that was unplausible. As he suspected, that was to uncover the truth about that case no matter how unorthodox the method was—tactical marriage was a little extreme in his opinion.
He wondered whether she would return to the police now the case was closed. He knew that police work was her profession, however, to think about her reaction to the truth, that the police was not the same honest police she knew and respected, unsettled him on a deep level.
He noticed that the doorknob was handed to another after her.
"Morofushi-keibu. Nice to meet you."
Kansuke supplied the needed information about the teen in the doorframe.
"Kudo Shinichi is his name. He was there too."
…
He dropped the pen.
Kuroda had mentioned that name before as the name of the person whom, due to some undisclosable reason, he was convinced was the prophet. He had heard about the prophet, he could not have not heard about a mysterious individual that predicted cases all over the country. He himself had dealt with one of the predicted cases and could be assured first hand that the person was the real deal. He looked at his childhood friend, who pulled his shoulders. He had no idea.
He took the chance to draw conclusions from his outwards appearance as the man—teen seated himself. He was surprised at the fact that the person did not look even twenty. He had heard that he was a teen detective, but damn. He wore casual clothes, which dampened the sharp aura his posture radiated and he saw him motion towards the door, in which a woman appeared. Her clothes were the same casual, but her appearance was pleasant in an aesthetic sense nonetheless.
"I will answer whatever question you have, but—"
A small, small smirk flashed on those lips.
"I would like to inquire about the woodpecker first."
…
"How do you know that term?"
He forced the question out his mouth as the colour drain from his face.
"I suspected that would sound familiar." Kudo turned to the others, who stood there without a clue, and elaborated in a smooth manner. "I should define the term as a codename that refers to certain detectives within the prefectural police who partake in, to understate the matter, dubious activities that includes several counts of weapon sale and assistance to cover up crimes. I know that the woodpecker is a source of trouble in this prefecture in particular—"
"You—"
Kansuke looked enthusiastic to blitz the teen. His respect towards the police could not tolerate an accusation like that, which coupled with his violent and temperamental tendencies made him unsuited to ask questions. He was stopped with a touch on the shoulder and a "Kan-chan, calm down".
"You should ask the member here for confirmation."
…
He knew. He knew and pleasepleasedonttell—
"Komei-kun."
…
He had committed his first crime when he looked into classified information. He was aware that his actions contradicted the law, but was determined to find out what had happened to his brother. His conscious did not allow him to leave the matter unanswered and so, he delved deeper and deeper into the matter without a clue about the context that surrounded him, and would soon breathe down his neck and become a threat above his head, behind his back and around him wherever he went.
He had found a report. He had skimmed the information inside, the information that confirmed his suspicions—his brother had been killed. His mission had not even been detailed, which had been bothersome. He could not see a reason not to mention a mission that had resulted in a death unless—an undercover mission. He remembered that realisation, how sick to the stomach he had been. He remembered to have held the paper in his hands, but the letters shook—his hands shook. He remembered the envelope that had led him down the rabbit hole, the broken cell phone—all that was left from his brother. He shook in frustration at the remembrance.
(He hated them for a moment. He hated their irresponsible use of lives. He hated how his brother had been sacrificed as a pawn on the board and how his death had been classified for an undisclosable reason and how he was somewhere unknown and how he could not even have a funeral.)
(He had felt a cold metal at the back of his head.)
(No—)
He fell from the chair at a punch.
"Komei, answer me! I demand an answer! Is this—"
His vision took in his childhood friend in front of him from a downwards perspective—ah, he fell onto the floor. His hand moved to nurse his cheek where the punch had connected. He lulled his head to the wall. He had been unable to speak about it. He had been forbidden to speak or else—
"Hold on. He was forced into it. He wanted to find out about his brother and went too deep on accident." He saw a slender form stand between them—Kudo. He wondered what his aim was, he had revealed him as a woodpecker and now protected him from the expected retaliation. He was correct when he said that he was forced into the matter. He was still ashamed. He allowed himself to be blackmailed and manipulated—some tactician he was. "Let him explain."
He was helped to the chair.
"Morofushi Hiromitsu was his name. He wanted to become a detective like me, however, the secret department somehow recruited him. You two never knew him, because we were raised in separate households after the death of our parents. He was smart. He solved the murder of our parents when he was in academy." He could share a lot of memories about his brother, but decided to be short. "However, there is a reason for the past tense. He died. He died on an undercover mission and the circumstances of his death became classified. I looked into the case nonetheless, which was not the smartest idea to be honest. I was found out—"
…
"It was them."
Kudo finished the sentence for him. He knew. He was a thousand steps ahead of them in terms of information, which made perfect sense should the suspicions of the superintendent prevail and the person in front of him was the prophet in person. He found the idea more cemented with each minute.
He took a deep breath.
"I came into contact with a criminal network, which has eluded the police so far. I hate to admit that that network has all unfortunate qualities that we could live without: influence, members and an ambition. I know little about them, despite the fact that their representative, to call them that, visits me each month to—to remind me of the stakes and force me to collaborate with them. I receive instructions that must be completed or a person will die."
…
Kansuke limited the conversation to the two of them.
"Komei—"
"Kansuke-kun. You know about how the metropolitan police department has to deal with those terrorists that leave destruction in whatever their hand touches. I received the usual instructions and realised that the people that blackmailed and manipulated me were them and that—I helped them with obedience and inaction. I tolerated their tactics that far—I refused to be an accomplice. I reached out to an obscure friend that was not known to know me, but—I messed up. I underestimated them and he died. I have no doubt that these monsters will murder people to make someone else submit to them. I know that their threats are real—"
"You should have come to me for help!"
"You would never be able to help!"
…
He stopped the punch thrown at him. He knew him. He knew how he preferred to punch the problems aside, but there was a limit to how much a punch could settle. His friend was shocked at his sudden resistance—he called him his friend, and knew that his friend considered him a friend too under the denial, but their relationship resembled that of frenemies. He held on his hand hard, and that captured the attention under the unleashed frustrated adrenaline.
He needed his full attention to drive his point home.
…
"Your accident was not an actual accident. You were picked on from the start. You are too impulsive and naïve. Your traits can be related, but there is no undeniable reason to back up their interest. Your refusal to react to the hints fuelled their hatred to the point of near assassination. You should thank dumb luck that failed. You know how vulnerable someone is in the hospital bed. You could have been killed with ease in coma. You were unconscious and weak afterwards—"
He had never seen his friend as pale as in that moment.
"You were blackmailed with me."
His silence confirmed it.
"You should have left me. You are so into elaborate tactics. You are the best—a decent tactician who comes up with a solution no matter what." His friend shouted into his face. He was so used to that that he could not express himself otherwise in front of him. He panted for a second in frustration, then his tone turned ice. "Komei. You are a police detective like me, our purpose is to serve and protect the people. I would have chased down these damned criminals without hesitation. I would have had the decisiveness to choose between dozens of innocent people and your pampered ass. You should have made the correct decision as well—"
…
Yui entered the conversation with a slap.
…
"Yui—"
"Kan-chan. You were about to tell a horrible lie. You know that would have been a lie, and still—that would not have been possible to take back. Komei-kun made a decision, which is the reason you are even alive! Look at him—he hates himself. He had made that decision to save a friend. You should appreciate that to some extent! You all talk about sacrifices and correct decisions, when the topic should be how to eliminate the masterminds behind this!"
…
Kudo stood between them too.
"Yui-san is correct. I have been present at both incidents correlated to the criminals is question: the island had been evacuated before the fire reached the town and from the news, the hospital attack did not have deaths. Morofushi-keibu has been instructed to do small tasks, which is unplausible to have connection to either of the mentioned incidents. I know them better than anyone else—operations of that scale would be entrusted to either the uppers or the nulls, but not to someone who is kept on their side with blackmail. Morofushi-keibu has not caused a death from what can be assumed, so the violence is misplaced and counterproductive in the situation."
He picked up on the terms that sounded unfamiliar to him, which reminded him about his task. He remembered where this situation started, and that he was supposed to question him and the other woman about the circumstances at the murder scene. He started to suspect that with this much information, those details would not be as useless as he assumed. He had suspected that since the name of the prophet was paired with the teen face. However—
"I feel relieved to hear that, but there has to be a reason to reveal this. You asked about the woodpecker, as the association of criminals to pose as detectives in our ranks is called, and revealed my connection to them. You must have had a purpose with that."
Kudo hummed for a second.
"I wanted to have no secrets on either side. I can share sensitive information about the syndicate, I decided that to reveal whatever secrets were hidden in front of me would be a start to convince you that the information is reliable and extensive. Akemi-san here also has trust issues due to reasons, but with the circumstances considered, her cooperation is almost sure. I know that if there is someone who would understand your motivations, it would be her."
Kansuke interrupted.
"You mentioned her to have been a member."
He was surprised to hear that. He could tell from the past tense that she had switched sides, which explained the fact that the obvious enemies of her former bosses had taken her into their protection. He knew them, and how rare a phenomenon like that was to behold.
He could hear her speak for the first time.
"I indeed worked for them. I had scientist parents, who were tricked into their researches and unable to leave once the trap became clear. I have a sister, who is talented in science and forced to continue the research our parents were unable to finish. I have been used for blackmail to be held over the head of my sister. I was a puppet to manipulate for them. I tried to escape them multiple times, but none of those were successful and made our situation harder. I decided to trust these people—I mean, there are chances that the uppers have ordered the execution of my team, who failed a mission. I have better chances of survival with them than alone."
"Her mission was to perform a bank heist, to test a new member." Kudo elaborated on the matter. "He failed the test, to understate it—he tried to escape with the loot. His selfish actions were filed as the failure of the entire team, which means that all of them are about to die. The dead man we found in the shed was the person who turned his back on the team. I suspect that another member sent to dispose of the team found and killed him, which makes this unrelated to the past murder case that has been solved in the same place. I helped with that too, in wait for the police. I could not do much until the police took me to their headquarters."
Yui picked up on that.
"So, the deal we made hundred-percent served your aims?"
"And that means hundred-percent yours too. I wanted to come to the headquarters for one reason, and that reason sits in front of me." He realised in less than a moment that the person in question was him. "You were correct. Your involvement with the woodpecker was revealed for a reason. Akemi-san is with me for her protection, but with the worst kind of attention on me, that will become harder and harder to maintain. I would lead her enemies to her, because of which she must be hidden until this fiasco is over. I would consider someone with some connections to the other side but with honest intentions for the task."
He sputtered at the proposition.
"You mean—huh. I understand the idea, but there are no means to know for sure whether this would work. I would need excellent abilities at deception to avert their attention and convince them not to look into me. I doubt it would be possible for me to—"
…
"You would be able. I know."
…
He was unnerved at the statements that came from experience.
"You sound like to know that for certain."
"I do know that for certain."
…
He knew. He knew, as simple as that.
…
"I have to disappoint nevertheless. I mentioned to have followed their words before, however, the situation altered. Kansuke-kun has been released from hospital, which makes it harder for them to come for him—not impossible, but harder nevertheless. And there was the hospital attack." He confused them. "Kansuke-kun. I do have a conscious. I took the matter to the superintendent as soon as that was within reason. You were on a case when that happened, which meant a safe distance in case complications arose. I established a plan to support the superintendent in his quest to find all the hidden members of the woodpecker and convict them."
Kansuke looked at him with surprise and a small hint of remorse towards his previous actions.
"You should have started with that! You made me misunderstand it, asshole!"
"You should have waited until the end, impatient child!"
…
Yui chuckled, which broke their stare.
"You have trust in each other, that is the most important."
…
He still did not receive answer from the person his words were addressed to. He noticed a flash of surprise on his features, that revelation was unknown to him—that reminded him of what the superintendent mentioned about the limits of the information the prophet had. He could foresee an untouched future, but could not calculate with the police interference—he had access to all possible information about the world at a certain point, but the derivations fell outside his scope.
Kudo collected himself.
"I understand the sentiment. I made a mistake with that idea. I failed to notice that the situation is different, and from that aspect, the proposition makes no sense." His lips curved into a—a smirk. "Your actions will become apparent to them sooner or later, and due to that, to hide her would be impossible. You were the number one idea, but there is no other choice to make. We need to clean the police from the infiltrators, or else, to make further steps would be impossible."
"Indeed. We need to know their exact numbers and identities. If we miss even one of them, the entire bunch will weasel their way out of it. I can be considered a woodpecker too, but stand quite distinct from them. I do not know their members to the last person. I suspect that the other woodpeckers know about me, but the lack of interaction makes it hard to determine. I think that there is someone different behind them, someone tied to the head, but not the exact person who blackmails me."
…
"I know that."
He snapped up. He knew that too—
…
"I also know who the person behind the woodpeckers is."
…
He did—what—
"Kato Mikami. I assume the name sounds familiar."
"He is the number one candidate for the mayoral position, to call him famous is an understatement." He confirmed the face behind the name. "I have no reason to doubt you, the information that you told us was always accurate, but that could be troublesome if was true."
"It is, to our misfortune. I know a fair bit about him. He prefers to manipulate others to serve his elaborated aims to personal interference, which is the reason he wants to maintain absolute influence over all available resources. He will weasel himself into positions of power and exploit those to the maximum. He is a candidate and has control over the police—that is important to him, he needs that to hide the tracks of the crimes tied to his name. Hence the woodpecker."
He paled in realisation.
"So then, all the unexplainable deaths that happen in the close timeframe of elections are connected to him! He uses his covert members within the police to manipulate or dispose of evidence! No—wait, that would mean that journalist was murdered too, and with some kind of poison nonetheless. I think that the superintendent considers that to be the most plausible explanation based on witness testimonies, but the tests did not show traces. At least, there is a lead—"
He looked up to curious faces and realised to have voiced his observations. He wondered whether or not to share that to the prophet—he was there to be questioned in connection to an unrelated case, and to include him in another would overstep boundaries. However, he was the prophet, or at least someone with an extreme amount of classified information. He knew about the woodpecker and the people behind them and even more. His opinion would be helpful.
He still had the files on himself.
He handed that over and watched the reaction. He found surprise once more, which meant that the teen did not know about the murder. He wondered how far his information went and what determined what was known and what not. Kudo collected himself in a moment and skimmed over the available information with professionalism unlike a teen. He seemed bothered a bit, but that was hidden behind his controlled and impassive expression. He waited for him to speak up.
"I have little doubt this is them. I find the complete lack of evidence and the discrepancies between the testimonies and the official statement suspicious." Kudo explained in a cold tone. "It said that the victim worked for Michitaka News. Were there attempts to look into Kato Mikami?"
He remembered the comment the superintendent made.
"I would think that possible—"
He decided not to tell them that the superintendent himself was behind it.
"I am afraid that more coworkers will share the same fate. As soon as someone finds out even the smallest amount of information about them, their death is sentenced. You should contact them about the issue and make them stop. That is the only way to keep them relatively safe."
He looked aside. He knew that that was an inescapable circle: due to the unreliable police, an outside medium was needed to look into sensitive matters, but that outside medium consisted of the civilians the police was supposed to protect. However, that was the one chance to pin down the woodpeckers. He did not want to think about how hard the decision the superintendent had to make to clean the police of the infiltrators at a risk like that was.
"I will tell the superintendent."
He replied that.
…
…
Shinichi looked forward another short rest. He was picked apart for explanations the three detectives demanded from him in order to trust him with leadership in the case, and that drained more from him than he expected. He had done infodumps on various people but to do that for each person to enter the picture was a valid reason for exhaustion. He could not even sleep in peace, not in the police headquarters that confirmed to have traitors within their midst.
He obtained his immediate aim in the moment his favourite tactician was revealed to be the one to question him. However, their conversation went in an unexpected direction. His friends reacted to the fact that he was involved in the woodpecker as expected, which was revealed in a not-so-delicate manner. He did not expect that the accused person himself had taken countermeasures. Morofushi from his future would have never made that move. He would have considered that too much of a risk, with the unknown number of enemies around them. His tactical mind would have never allowed him to implement a plan with uncertain outcome.
Then, so much had happened here that did not in his future.
His mind skimmed over the differences between the two timelines that could make a list. His interference had altered so much—he had saved countless lives, and had to be careful not to allow them to take more lives in retaliation. He had to admit that in this point of time, the syndicate had become a more known and somewhat chaotic opponent. He credited the number of screwed plans for their bolder moves. He could feel their frustration from the borderline desperate attempts to retain control, whether that was to abduct him without consideration towards the people around him or to assassinate civilians with the smallest amount of information on them.
Morofushi had been under immense pressure. He knew him as a careful tactician but a dutiful police detective as well. He could not tell himself that obedience was a solution when the blackmailers committed acts of terrorism each week. He was in a situation where a move had to be made and decided at the one that had the best chance to succeed. He had revealed himself in front of his superior. He must have considered the benefit to worth the risk.
He tried to keep an impassive face when his idea was refused. He did not tell them his most sensitive secrets, which included where his immense information was from. He did not want to leave clues when as his cover stood on unstable foundations, due to the fact that the superintendent was convinced that he was the prophet. He suspected that that was the reason the subordinates shared the same conviction and watched him as a hawk.
He was trusted to a base level nonetheless.
He looked at them.
His friends rested in the room where the conversation had taken place. He would have opposed the idea to show a vulnerable side in a place where the chance to encounter enemies was above normal, but there was no time to find accommodation. He could hear the undertone snores from that direction over the dead silence that encompassed the headquarters in the dark. Morofushi sat in a normal position. Yamato the complete opposite. Akemi was the restless sleeper—
Akemi. He needed a solution. He needed that solution fast. He would have to have her around for protection, but his team started to reach the limit of headcount with which stealth was possible. He considered to establish contact with one of his old allies, but he needed a believable explanation to have them on his side. He could not call the FBI and dump his predicament on them without a piece of evidence whatsoever. He would be considered delusional.
He stepped outside the room.
He appreciated the cold, fresh air.
He paced up and down. He remained close to the room with his friends inside. His footsteps echoed down the corridor and in that moment, the ambient flickers of illumination from outside called for an unreal vibe. He had reasons to doubt the core of the world more than others. He remembered the timelines in which his death came on arrival, the unadulterated terror when the world that appeared so constant on the outside melted and reformed in an irrational manner. He did not know what was real. He decided that the corridor was real, that the conversation was real, that his friends were as real as his enemies. He could not know for sure, so he decided.
His inner pocket buzzed.
He reached for his phone, half mind wondered on who could call him at that hour. He blinked in surprise at the name of the caller. He would have betted that their next conversation would wait until the moment the two of them would be able to meet face to face in this unknown land of time.
…
"Haibara."
"Kudo-kun. I slipped from their surveillance at last."
He wondered what could be so important that she would risk a phone call to contact him. He wondered what could be important and shared with her, because for them, she was a scientist kept around for her excellence in biochemistry. Not someone to include in operations.
"APTX. I was handed the order that the poison passed the tests and will be used for assassination purposes from now on." His hitched breath cut a pause in the sentence. "It should not have happened until two more years. I have no exact explanation as to what made them accept the test results that were not adequate the first time around. I would bet that the faster pace of their plans required a stealthier method to kill than a bullet. I was told to mass produce."
He knew what that meant.
"For whom."
"Brandish. Kato Mikami, whatever he calls himself."
…
He had to lean to the wall. He knew what had killed that man on the train.
Brandish was a person to favour discreet methods of assassination. However, the idea that that person had an untraceable poison in his arsenal made the situation even worse. He did not know what to do should a victim shrink but realised that that certain side-effect appeared in less than one percent of the affected. He would have to convince others that a bunch of media folks dropped dead not from natural causes but from a supposed perfect poison nevertheless.
He decided that that was the ideal time to fill her in. He willed himself to explain his situation once more, included his interaction with her sister and their detour to the mountainside and the case there. He mentioned that the prefectural police detectives overlooked his stunt as there were more important issues to deal with. He informed her about the situation of her sister, how his initial plan to provide her a cover failed and that he was stumped on what to do next. He arrived to the media related murders and the potential involvement of the local superintendent, because that involvement was audible from the conversation and fell into his expectations.
"Kuroda, then. He is trouble even here."
His silence carried his concerns. He had focused on the syndicate instead of the secret police—the latter could be a pain in the back without a proper context, but was not the actual opponent. He did not even attend the task force so much to deal with the head of that department.
"He has been obsessed with me for some reason."
…
"Kudo-kun. Kuroda appeared much later in world zero, is that correct?"
"Yeah. About ten months later."
…
"I wonder. I remember that he had chronic health issues."
He knew where that went. He did not want to admit that she had a point. He had been so preoccupied that that issue did not even cross his mind as a threat. He remembered their first encounter in another timeline, which happened to match their current one in topic. He remembered the comments that had pointed at the abnormal amount of absence of the superintendent, almost an entire year. His entire self stopped in realisation and the consequent confusion. He voiced the feared conclusion.
"Kuroda should not be around. He should not be part of the police at this point of time."
"It bothered me. I do not know that much."
"No. Your observation is accurate." He admitted to his own fault. "I considered his presence so natural that this did not even occur to me. However, the nature of his condition can be tracked back to before the arrival of the first leaper, me, which means that that is existent in this timeline as well. He had the same condition for sure at least until the moment the timelines separated and still, he appeared in the immediate aftermath. I consider that to be unrealistic, so the person at the police discussion must have been an impostor. But even so—Kuroda had to be absent from the police before that and still, he was treated as he had never been absent in the first place."
"He had to be around before, then. But that leads to a contradiction." Haibara responded with a level voice. "There are three solutions to this paradox. One is that our information on him is inaccurate. However, to look into that would be a hard task. You could search for clues, but those would be about another world. You have no means to confirm how valid the information stored in our memories is, because the source of that information is not within our reach."
He listened to the explanation.
"Second is that our concept is inaccurate. You deducted that his condition is existent this time as well on the concept that before the first disturbance in time, worlds zero and one have identical events, however, that is a part of a concept that attempts to stuff the unexplainable into a convenient mental box. A concept is made in a human mind, and because of that, can be as flawed and inaccurate as possible. A contradiction like this can be a chance to revise our assumptions."
"So, we have to discard whatever we have concluded so far?"
"Not necessarily. There is a third option." Her moment of silence felt like hours. "Under the assumption that both our information and concept are accurate, there is one explanation. It is that world one is not the real world one. It has, in other words, been altered sometime sooner."
He was confused.
"I am the first leaper, it is impossible—"
…
He stopped. No. No, that was—
…
Haibara shattered his shocked state of mind.
"Exactly. There is someone else out there. And that person is the real first leaper."
…
Published: 26/08/2023
And the true second arc has started. I mean, arc two has started in chapter thirteen but those chapters have been a build up for this plotline. I look forwards to this arc because of several reasons: it features the first villain that is hundred percent mine, and time travel madness as hinted at the end of this chapter. I have concerns about how clear this whole debacle about the third leaper was, or whether the characters were in-character or not.
Gamelover41592: thank you for the review.