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use-your-telescope · 1 month

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When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 19: Would You Count on Me?

Summary: When Theo’s down and out, Loki recruits the other Avengers to help lift her back up.

Contents: Similar to the last chapter, descriptions of vomiting in relation to describing a migraine. Canon typical injury descriptions. Some very (very) brief mentions of IV/needles? Soft moments and fluff.

Word Count: 6,296

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Easy Money - Lights

I expect you on your worst behavior I am a giver but you know I'm not a taker, yeah When you're riding in the night, I'll be shotgun, yeah Said you're looking for a friend, well you got one, yeah Until the last dollar Until the last dollar

Morning came far too quickly.

Even a pleasant, dreamless sleep for a few hours could not replenish Loki’s energy in the same way a full night of rest could. Yet, waking up with Theo still tangled up around him eased a surprising amount of his irascibility at his persistent insomnia.

In the soft morning light filtering in through the bedroom window, Loki took the opportunity to reassess Theo’s condition.

Though it seemed that a night spent next to Loki with his reduced temperature helped, Theo still felt far too warm. Remnants of tear tracks lingered on fever-flushed cheeks, while her eyelids remained red and swollen with irritation. An indigo bruise, likely from the prior evening’s combat, had appeared overnight along the hollow of her cheek. It was relatively small - a bit larger than a knuckle, by Loki’s estimate - but the stark contrast of the bruise versus Theo’s gaunt complexion gave the impression that it was quite the blow.

All in all, Theo looked as if she could sleep for a year and it still would not be enough to feel rejuvenated.

Theo obviously needed a healer, yet Loki’s previous attempts to convince her had not proved fruitful; whether stubborn pride or an impaired mind from the illness caused such profound refusal, Loki was not sure.

Maximoff might have more success; she possessed a keen sense for how to approach individuals in a rather vulnerable state.

Enlisting Maximoff’s help, however, meant explaining why Theo was in Loki’s bedchamber and not her own. And though Loki trusted that Maximoff would not focus on the oddity of the circumstances, he did not trust that anyone else who caught wind of the situation would be so kind.

Briefly, the idea of returning Theo to her quarters before seeking Maximoff’s assistance came to mind. After considering the logistics, Loki quickly dismissed the idea; if he brought her back without waking her, she might become distressed upon waking in the location she specifically requested to avoid for the night. To gain Theo’s consent to return to her quarters, Loki would need to wake her, and that raised the possibility of an awkward conversation about why they laid with each other. Not to mention the possibility she would reject the proposal, which would mean Loki had roused her for nothing.

Upon concluding that Maximoff’s assistance would be necessary, Loki carefully untangled himself from Theo and slipped from the bed. After dressing for the day, he fixed the bedcovers on his side of the bed to give the impression Theo slept alone, then retrieved a pillow to place on the sofa in his great room.

In his great room, he set the pillow at one end of the sofa, then laid atop it and conjured a blanket to cover himself with, only to uncover himself and leave the items there to imply he spent the night on the sofa. Even if Theo was no longer courting anyone, Loki did not want to risk the impression of any inappropriate or questionable behavior. His decision to spend the night with her would remain between the two of them.

With the stage set, Loki looked in on Theo one final time to ensure she hadn’t woken. Seeing that she hadn’t stirred, Loki set off in search of Maximoff.

Knowing that Maximoff regularly took her breakfast around the present moment, that was Loki’s first destination - sure enough, Maximoff sat at the breakfast bar in her pajamas, halfway through a bowl of cereal as she looked over the morning paper. Her mobile sat in front of her as if she were expecting some sort of communication, but the screen remained dark.

Unfortunately, Maximoff was far from alone: Romanoff, Barnes, and Wilson also sat at the breakfast bar, all at varying points of their morning meals and routines. Romanoff and Wilson had dressed for the day, while Barnes sported a threadbare that he only wore for sleeping and had yet to tame his sleep-disheveled hair.

At the sight of Loki, Barnes managed a half-grunt of acknowledgement, while Wilson offered a wave and a short greeting. Romanoff, ever the vigilant assassin, studied him with a dissecting gaze that made Loki suspect she already knew Loki was not there for breakfast.

Maximoff, hearing the others, glanced up from the paper and spotted Loki. “Morning Lo—“

“Maximoff, I require your assistance.” Loki skipped the pleasantries, having little interest in anything social at the moment.

Doing so, however, piqued everyone’s curiosity. Wilson sat up a bit taller in his seat. “Oh boy—“

“—What’s up?” Maximoff set the paper aside, giving Loki her full attention. Beside her, Romanoff glared at Wilson.

“It’s Theo.”

The soldiers shot each other an unreadable glance, Romanoff returned to studying Loki with her perpetually neutral, yet mildly suspicious gaze.

“What about Theo - is she alright?” Maximoff frowned, glancing down at her mobile and then returning her attention to Loki. “I texted her last night but she never got back to me.”

“She’s unwell, yet twice now she has refused my suggestions to see a healer.” Loki ran one hair through his hair, realizing as his fingers caught on a knot that he forgot to address his own tangled tresses. “I’m hoping you might talk some sense into her.”

“Care to elaborate?” Romanoff shot Loki an expectant glance, one meticulously groomed brow arching to emphasize her question.

“Vomiting, fever, chills, fatigue,” Loki rattled off the list of symptoms he observed, careful to keep a neutral tone. “I suspect some aches and pains, though she did not admit to it.”

“Why’d she tell you that she’s sick, but not Wanda?” Barnes, notably more awake than when Loki first arrived, narrowed his eyes at Loki. “She tells Wanda everything.”

“She didn’t tell me,” Loki flatly answered, mirroring Barnes’s stare. “I had been on my way to the sitting room when I heard a commotion in her quarters and investigated; the noise was Theo stumbling to her washroom to be ill - I found her hunched over her toilet.”

Maximoff hummed, sounding appropriately concerned. “When was this?”

“Last night.”

“And you didn’t tell me then?” Maximoff practically leapt to her feet, abandoning her breakfast on the countertop as she rounded the breakfast bar and broke into a stride.

“Wait—” Loki called to Maximoff, who had somehow nearly reached the corridor, “— Where are you going—“

“To check on her,” Maximoff replied over her shoulder, “obviously.”

“She is not in her quarters,” Loki warned, to which the Scarlet Witch stopped in her tracks and turned back to the him.

“If she isn’t there,” Romanoff asked, adopting a skeptical expression, “where is she?”

Loki sighed; he hadn’t wanted to explain this in front of a crowd, but it did not seem like he had much choice. He steeled himself for the sarcastic comments that his peers would undoubtedly make in response before he answered. “In mine.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, back up—“ Barnes interjected, “— why is she in your bed?”

“Because it was the only way I could convince her not to spend the night on her bathroom floor.” Loki dryly replied.

“You couldn’t convince her to go back to her own bed?” Wilson questioned, his suspicion clear in both tone and facial expression. “Aren’t you supposed to be a silver tongue or some shit?”

“The charm of a silver tongue requires that both parties are of sound mind—“ Loki rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “— I suspect she was delirious with fever.”

“Enough, we’re going—“ Maximoff turned, starting down the hall without bothering to check whether or not Loki followed.

A few rapid strides brought Loki alongside Maximoff, whose hurried pace was no match for Loki’s long legs.

Mutters of “this I’ve gotta see,” along with scraping chair legs, came from behind as Barnes, Wilson, and Romanoff rose to their feet, catching up to the pair of sorcerers with a light jog.

Begrudgingly, Loki allowed everyone into his quarters. An audience as Maximoff tried to talk sense into Theo seemed a bit inappropriate, but Loki doubted that he could effectively make the case without additional teasing, and he lacked the patience for such asinine behavior.

After allowing the others to step into the bedchamber, Loki followed and closed the door behind him. Audible, gasps and worried murmurs filled the air as the others saw Theo’s state for themselves.

In the time Loki had been away, Theo rolled over to the side of the bed with the waste bin, kicking some of the blankets off of herself and tangling others around her legs in the process. A sheen of sweat had taken up residence upon her brow, glittering in the morning sun. In the new position, the bruise upon her cheek looked as if a spotlight had been shone upon it. She appeared no less ill than before, and the evidence of the prior night’s tears remained fully on display.

Were it not for the faintly visible rise and fall of her chest, it would have been easy to assume she was deceased.

“Damn,” Barnes’ prior amusement faded, color draining from his face as his eyes scanned over Theo’s appearance.

“She looks rough,” Wilson stated the obvious, his eyes wide and lips turned down at the sight.

“You see the reason for my concern.” It was the rare occasion where Loki did not relish being able to prove his point, as this involved the suffering of a friend. He hadn’t ever seen Theo come undone in such a manner, and even at that moment he had no desire to ever see it again.

Meanwhile, Maximoff crouched down beside the bed, resting one hand on Theo’s shoulder. “Theo?”

Theo whimpered, shifting slightly before barely cracking one eye open.

“Hey,” Maximoff offered a small, concerned smile, “heard you’re—“

The unmistakable sound of retching silenced Maximoff mid-sentence as Theo lurched toward the edge of the bed and buried her face into the waste bin.

“Oh, detka —“ Maximoff rubbed Theo’s back as Theo vomited yet again. How Theo had anything in her stomach to expel after her previous bouts of illness, Loki had no idea, but apparently something had been there.

In the midst of everything, Romanoff had taken a seat on the floor, steadying the waste bin with one hand while resting the other hand on Theo to ensure she did not fall out of bed.

A shaky sigh came from Theo, whose head still remained in the bin. She remained in place, body trembling from either chills or exertion, as if she thought the fit had passed but she was not ready to push it.

“Theo?” Maximoff tried again, continuing to rub Theo’s back.

“What?” Theo groaned, her voice notably quiet.

“You seem pretty sick…”

“It’s a migraine.” Theo hesitantly lifted her head from the bin, then listlessly rolled onto her back and covered her eyes with one arm. “Give it a couple days, it’ll pass.”

“You have a fever,” Romanoff pointed out, “Migraines don’t cause fevers.”

“Mine do,” Theo muttered.

Maximoff and Romanoff shared an uncertain glance, both turning to look at Loki for a moment before exchanging a second uncertain glance.

“If it takes a couple days to pass, does that mean Loki’s not getting his bed back?” Wilson broached the subject, diverting the conversation from concerns of Theo’s illness towards the much less significant matter of occupying Loki’s quarters.

Romanoff, Maximoff, and Loki all shot Wilson their most venomous glares in an attempt to silence him, lest he make matters worse. In response, Wilson’s eyes grew wider, only then realizing his error.

“Shit.” Theo pulled her arm away from her eyes, cracking them open just enough to take in her surroundings; with a wince, she closed them and returned her arm to its original position. “Forgot about that… Sorry.”

The latter part of her statement was obviously directed at Loki, even though Theo hadn’t actually looked at him; that being said, she hadn’t looked at anyone during the interaction, so it did not seem to be an attempt to ignore or avoid him.

“Give me a minute,” Theo pressed herself up to sit, her arms trembling with the effort required to the degree that the prospect of walking back to her quarters seemed absurd at best. “I’ll go back to my room…”

She turned to set both feet on the floor, drawing in a deep breath before she tried to stand—

— Key word tried, because had it not been for Romanoff’s proximity and lightning reflexes, Theo would have ended up in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Instead, Romanoff caught Theo, gracefully steadying Theo while Romanoff rose to her feet.

“Let’s not overdo it, Kotik,” Romanoff quietly tutted, easing Theo down to sit on the bed, with her back against the headboard to support her body.

Face flushed crimson, Theo curled in on herself and wrenched her eyes shut. Her lower lip quivered as she drew in, then let out a shaky breath.

“Boys, out—“ Romanoff directed, pointing at the door as she narrowed her eyes at the trio.

Barnes and Wilson, all too familiar with Romanoff’s threatening tone of voice, wasted no time making their exit. Loki, however, hesitated; after all, he had every right to remain. The outcome of this conversation impacted him.

Romanoff glared at Loki, jutting her chin out towards the door, but Loki crossed his arms.

“This is my bedchamber. And, might I remind you, I was the one who tended to her last night.” Loki quietly challenged, mirroring Romanoff’s glare.

“Nat, it’s fine,” Theo sniffed, half-heartedly wiping at her eyes. Romanoff turned to Theo, frowning while Theo continued her attempts to gather herself. “He’s right.”

Romanoff sighed disapprovingly, but relented, returning the rest of her attention back to the bed.

“Detka, I know you don’t want to, but you really need to go to the doctor,” Maximoff sat on the edge of the mattress and brushed a few loose strands of hair away from Theo’s face. “Please— what if the person who attacked you had poison on his blade or—“

“No,” Theo weakly shook her head, eyes glassy and her voice pleading as she looked at Maximoff, then Romanoff, and finally at Loki. “It’s my fault. I used too much magic.”

Oh.

Upon the revelation, Maximoff and Loki shared a knowing glance.

Overuse of one’s magic - a situation Loki had experienced a time or two in his life, and not one he was keen to repeat if he could help it. Not only was it horrendously unpleasant - each instance rendered him completely invalid for days on end — but the embarrassment that came from one’s weaknesses being on full display brought about a shame that to this day, Loki could not shake.

“It was stupid—“ Theo wiped her eyes and swallowed thickly. “—I’m sorry—“

“It’s alright,” Loki quickly reassured, forcing what he prayed was a comforting smile. “Maximoff and I are no strangers to the effects of overextending ourselves.”

“Yeah, but I kept you up all night and then took over your room because I was freaked out from a nightmare—“ A hitching breath cut Theo off, accompanied by a pair of tears streaking down her cheeks, “—and now you’re stuck with me invading your private space for days while I puke my guts out because I can’t even walk back to my room—“

“How about this,” Maximoff gently interrupted, not an ounce of reproach in her voice; she paused to brush away one of Theo’s tears. “We’ll help you back to your bed. Once you’re settled in, we’ll call a doctor to come up and prescribe you something to manage your symptoms until you’re back to feeling like yourself - they've done it for me when I pushed myself too hard, and it really helps.”

“Besides, it sounds like we owe you a girl’s night with lots of ice cream and complaining about men,” Romanoff added with a wink. “That can’t happen until you’re healthy again.”

Theo narrowed her eyes at Romanoff, brows pinching together as she mulled over Romanoff’s remark. “How’d you know?”

“The internet,” Romanoff answered, then added: “Sounds like he was an ass about it.”

A quiet, watery laugh snuck out of Theo; with a small sniffle, she nodded.

“Luckily, you have a list of super soldiers and gods who would be more than happy to put Chris in his place,” Maximoff commented with a smile that somehow was both tender and mischievous. “And who would happily help you back to your bed. Take your pick.”

Theo looked up at Loki, a silent request in her eyes.

Romanoff followed Theo’s gaze. “Loki?”

“I’m willing to assist.”

Once Loki scooped Theo into his arms and they confirmed she wasn’t about to be ill, the trio emerged from Loki’s bedchambers to find Wilson and Barnes sitting there, staring at the door.

“Where to?” Wilson slapped his hands on his knees before standing, his attention darting from the members of the group to Theo, curled up in Loki’s arms.

“Theo’s room,” Maximoff answered, leading the group to the corridor.

“No doc?” Barnes questioned as he trailed behind.

“Making a house call,” Romanoff replied over her shoulder.

The soldiers and the widow waited in the main room of Theo’s quarters while Loki and Maximoff brought Theo to bed, only for Maximoff to dismiss Loki as soon as Theo had been set down upon her bed.

This time, Loki did not protest, though he did offer Maximoff a curious glance before taking his leave.

In Theo’s main room, Romanoff stood by the window, one arm crossed in front of her while the other held her mobile to her ear, mid-conversation with what Loki assumed was someone from the infirmary. The soldiers had made themselves at home on Theo’s sofa, snickering to themselves as they discussed something in voices too low for Loki to hear.

At the click of the door latch, both soldiers’ attention snapped to Loki, both wearing smug grins that made Loki’s hair stand on end.

“Out with it,” Loki grumbled, knowing one or both of the men had some snide remark on the tip of their tongue.

“I can’t believe you brought someone back to your place with no plans to hook up.” Wilson’s grin only widened as he spoke, eyes glinting and tone deceptively light.

“I’m not such a monster to abandon someone in a time of need,” Loki scoffed, opting to lean against a wall with arms crossed to maintain as much distance between them as possible.

“Never said you were,” Wilson held his hands out in a placating gesture, infuriatingly wide smile still on display. “It’s—“

“Dr. Harper should be here in a few minutes,” Romanoff interrupted, approaching the rest of the group while returning her mobile to her pocket. “A crowd isn’t necessary; Wanda and I can take it from here.”

“Fine, fine,” Barnes relented, rising to his feet. Wilson echoed his movement moments later, grumbling to himself about having to leave. “We’ll get outta your hair.”

Barnes and Wilson departed; Loki, however, did not budge.

“If it’s alright, I’d rather see this through,” Loki explained, after Romanoff gave him a curious look.

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, taking up residence in the seat which Barnes abandoned hardly a minute before, perfectly content to sit in silence as they waited.

I'll be there in the hеat of the cold war I wanna be the onе that you're flipping your coin for, hey And if money is time, then I'm burning mine When you're off the line and I'm drinking mine, and I'm gonna see that we get all we deserve 'Cause baby you know that I'm a man of my word, so

Dr. Harper was someone Loki had seen in passing when he’d stop into the infirmary to visit with Theo, but he’d never spoken to Theo’s colleague. Over the time since Loki befriended Theo, he gleaned that the pair of doctors were friends, knowing each other from before either doctor worked in the infirmary.

To his surprise, the doctor did not knock before entering Theo’s quarters, strolling in as if she were right at home. Clad in black scrubs and a crisp white overcoat, and with raven hair twisted into a loose bun, Dr. Harper looked as if she came straight from the emergency ward, right down to the small duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

If Dr. Harper was concerned about Theo, she didn’t show any outward signs, casually greeting Romanoff and Loki with a quick wave before disappearing into Theo’s bedchambers.

Recognizing that it would likely be some time before any news, Loki finally abandoned his spot leaning against the wall in favor of the empty space on the sofa. If he were alone, he’d investigate the options on Theo’s bookshelf for something to entertain him, but with Romanoff around he did not wish to raise any suspicion.

Loki clasped his hands together in his lap, leaned back into his seat, and closed his eyes.

The faint hint of vanilla, likely from the plethora of candles Theo loved to burn, tickled his nose, as did the scent of fresh flowers. Beneath that, hints of coffee and something spiced - reminiscent of Theo’s perfume - caught Loki’s attention.

He smiled to himself, slowly drawing in another deep breath and basking in the smell. Sitting in the quiet, Loki eventually found himself floating in a place that wasn’t quite dozing, but wasn’t quite awake either; had it not been for the faint creak of door hinges interrupting the peace some indeterminate amount of time later, he very well might have fallen asleep then and there.

“Did he fall asleep?” Maximoff whispered, completely dragging Loki out of the comfortable state he’d settled into.

“No,” Loki sighed, blinking his eyes open to find all three women - Romanoff, Maximoff, and Dr. Harper - looking at him. He sat up a bit, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted in his seat. “I presume there is a reason you’re all gathered here?”

“You wanted to know what the plan was,” Romanoff said, some strange sense of amusement glistening in her eye. “We’re discussing the plan.”

“Good news is this can be dealt with here - honestly, between her photosensitivity and phonophobia, all the bright lights and sounds would make her feel worse.” Dr. Harper explained, attention shifting between the trio of Avengers as she spoke. “I’m going to put in for a home care nurse to visit and set up an IV with fluids, as well as what we usually refer to as a ‘migraine cocktail’ - it’s a mix of medications meant to treat severe migraines. Even though she’s not technically experiencing a migraine, it will still help with her symptoms. I’ll note it as PRN so if the medicine wears off and symptoms return, all you need to do is call down and they can send someone up to run another round of medicine and likely some more fluids.

“The only concern I have right now is about dehydration. Right now, she’s pretty dehydrated, which if not addressed can cause serious complications. Even if she isn’t throwing up, sweating a lot without drinking anything can make dehydration worse.”

“How do we know if she’s getting worse?” Romanoff inquired.

“I’ll have the nurse bring a list of symptoms to watch for - if you see any of them, call us right away.” Dr. Harper replied, then added: “the nurse will also complete a brief exam when they start the infusion and when it finishes, plus they will periodically check in on her to make sure things are running smoothly. If you’re ever unsure, feel free to call or text me. I’ll give you my cell number.”

“Based on your report, it seems you’d like someone to look after her?” Loki ventured.

“Ideally, yes,” Dr. Harper confirmed. “You don’t have to have someone with her 24/7, since she’ll likely spend most of the recovery time sleeping — but checking in semi-frequently is a good idea.”

“Anything else we should do to help?” Maximoff asked, her attention fully focused on the doctor.

“There are a few things that I’d recommend,” Dr. Harper answered. “Keep the room dark and quiet to help with the sensitivity to light and sound. When she’s awake, try to have her drink as much as she can - ideally electrolyte drinks, but water and juice are also fine... I doubt she’ll want to eat, but if she is hungry and she’s not nauseous, stick to bland food and take it slow.

“Otherwise? If she’s tired, let her sleep, even if that means she’s sleeping 95% of the time. Sleep is crucial for healing.” Dr. Harper smiled at Maximoff. “Remember, if you have any questions along the way, you can always send me a message or give me a call.”

After exchanging contact information, Dr. Harper departed.

“I’ll stay with her for now,” Maximoff volunteered, “Lokes, you were up all night with her; you should go, catch up on sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Loki protested, hesitant to leave despite the knowledge that the situation had been addressed. “Truly—“

“You pretty much fell asleep on the couch and you were getting snippy with Sam and Buck,” Romanoff countered, “You get that way when you haven’t slept enough.”

“Go to bed — I promise, we’ve got this.” Maximoff offered Loki a hand and a reassuring smile. “You can stop by later if you want.”

Loathe as he was to admit it, his sleep deprivation had become rather burdensome.

Begrudgingly, Loki accepted the hand and allowed Maximoff to pull him to his feet. “If you insist, I will take my leave.”

Upon returning to his own quarters, Loki went to clean up the waste bin to discover that it had been taken care of for him. Instead of sitting beside the bed, the container had been returned in its usual location, a random drop of water indicating it had been washed, as well as with a new bag lining the interior.

The thought of someone in his quarters raised a bit of internal concern, but the relief of not needing to complete such a tedious task quickly overtook the discomfort.

A quick snap of his fingers closed the drapes, plunging the room into darkness. Loki didn’t bother to change into pajamas, instead stripping down to his boxers before collapsing atop the bed. He rolled onto his side and took a deep breath, surprised to find the lingering herbal scent of Theo’s shampoo, interspersed with the salt of clean sweat and a tinge of vanilla, had infused itself into his pillow.

For the second time in less than twenty four hours, Loki drifted into a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

If your bills are late And you're low on steam You know what they say “Only the broke can dream” And if time is money And the math is right You don't gotta spend your money Baby, just spend the night, so

After three days of hiding away in her room while sleeping off the effects of overextending herself via magic, Theo felt well enough to emerge from her suite.

Having made the mistake of pushing herself too hard before, Theo knew it would take some more time to get her energy back, even after sleeping more in three days than she typically would in three weeks. But she no longer relied on medication to eliminate her nausea and pain, sudden lights or sounds no longer felt like someone drilling into her skull, and her fever broke sometime during the second day.

Feeling well enough, however, was not quite enough to inspire any adventures.

The lingering embarrassment of causing her own misery made Theo want nothing more than to hide away for an eternity, no matter how many times Wanda promised it wasn’t a big deal. One cursory glance at her phone showed an avalanche of notifications - news alerts about her and questions about if the rumors of her breakup were true. Being sick gave her an excuse to avoid talking about the breakup - after all, no one wanted to be that guy who made a sick person feel worse by bringing up a painful topic - once people realized she was feeling better, they’d jump on the chance to rub salt in the wound.

She hadn’t worked up the courage to look at any of the headlines, knowing that Chris’s most rabid fans would inevitably have plenty of nasty things to say about her. It probably didn’t help the gossip cycle that she hadn’t yet commented on the matter, but that was a bandaid she wasn’t quite ready to rip off.

And that wasn’t even getting into her embarrassment about what Loki saw, much less how she essentially stole his room from him for a night.

So, even though she’d been cooped up in her room for three days, Theo ignored the innate restlessness that came with recovery and stayed right where she was - laying in her bed, staring at her ceiling and contemplating the life choices that led her to her current state.

“I’m surprised you’re still in bed,” A low, velvet voice interrupted her brooding, prompting Theo to look over at the door.

Loki leaned against the door frame, arms crossed loosely and aventurine eyes sparkling as he regarded Theo with a soft smile. Dressed in a charcoal hoodie and dark, slim-fit jeans, he looked more than ready for a relaxing day at home.

Shit - Theo was not ready for this.

“You’re not one to remain stationary for long when you’re well,” Loki elaborated, leaning away from the doorframe as he studied her. “From what Maximoff told me this morning, you were supposedly feeling much better.”

“I do feel better,” Theo replied with a half-hearted smile and a small shrug.

“Yet, you remain in bed.” Loki stepped into the room, soft smile slowly shifting into a hint of a frown as his brows pinched together.

“I…” Theo faltered, unable to whip up some clever excuse or diversion. “Yeah, I’m still in bed.”

Loki perched himself at the edge of the mattress, shoulders tensing as Theo finally sat up in response. He watched, only looking more worried as Theo slid back to lean on the headboard, drawing her blankets up before looking back at him and forcing a smile.

“Is something the matter?” Loki seemed hesitant as he asked, searching Theo’s eyes for some unknown validation. “You seem quite distant. Have I done something wrong?”

“No!” Theo blurted out the answer without thinking, frantically shaking her head with enough vigor that Loki startled. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for the other night – it’s embarrassing that you had to deal with me when I was like that.”

Loki’s expression softened, and his shoulders relaxed a bit at the answer, though it wasn’t quite the level of ease that Theo had grown used to. “Why would you apologize?”

“Because you didn’t deserve for me to have a nuclear meltdown and to be stuck dealing with the aftermath,” Theo replied. “We give each other shit and joke around and talk about books - you didn’t sign up for me having a nuclear scale meltdown or picking my dumbass off the floor and making sure I was alright when it was my own damn fault that I felt awful to begin with. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d even want to look at me after that - I was a mess.”

As Loki listened to Theo’s explanation, his shoulders continued to relax, while the gentle smile from earlier made its return.

Before Loki replied, a quiet laugh – barely more than a puff of air – snuck out. “You forget who my brother is; he has most assuredly forced me to tolerate much worse, for far less noble reasons.”

“Puking out his guts and bawling his eyes out about a breakup with no explanation, then taking over your bed and preventing you from getting any sleep while getting his sweat and probably some vomit on it?” Theo skeptically challenged, narrowing her eyes at Loki.

He laughed, hiding his smile behind one hand as he shook his head. “Darling, when it comes to Thor, that wouldn’t even break the top 100.”

“I’m not sure I believe you, but alright,” Theo conceded; Loki’s answers had eased a bit of her embarrassment, but she wasn’t entirely over the discomfort. “Either way, thanks– for the other night, and for not making me feel worse about it afterwards.”

“Of course,” Loki answered like he had been thanked for something simple like handing Theo a pencil, not dropping everything to be there for Theo when she completely fell apart. He opened his mouth to speak, paused for a moment, then added: “Has it occurred to you that you give all your time, compassion, and energy to caring for others in their time of need, without judgment, yet you refuse to consider that others might wish to do the same for you?”

Theo, caught off guard by Loki’s observation, laughed nervously.

“That’s a conversation for my therapist.” She tried to make it sound like a joke, hoping that Loki would get the hint to drop the subject for the moment.

“Are there other matters that keep you confined to your bed, or are those only discussed with your therapist?” Loki tried, infusing a similarly lighthearted tone to his question.

Knowing Loki, he’d figure it out sooner or later; no use in delaying the inevitable.

“I’m not ready for the questions and comments about Chris,” Theo admitted, staring down at her hands as she wrung them in her lap. “Or the pity looks that come with getting dumped. Or people’s reactions to learning I literally made myself sick from magic.”

The bed shifted beneath Theo; she looked up to find Loki moving to sit beside her, intentionally leaning over to bump her shoulder with his.

“You’re not the first Avenger to endure heartbreak - the others know well enough to let you address the matter on your terms. Though I will say, Romanoff and Maximoff have an arsenal of insipid - truly, downright asinine romantic comedies ready for when you want to partake in your quote-unquote girl’s night.” Loki chuckled to himself as he continued: “Additionally, Belova and Barnes have started a competition of who can come up with the most overly-elaborate revenge schemes; I’m certain they would love to indulge you if you’re feeling particularly spiteful. Even Rogers has contributed an idea or two.”

The thought of Steve, of all people, proposing a revenge plot coaxed a real laugh out of Theo, which in turn widened Loki’s grin.

“As for the rest of Midgard, they are not even aware you were ill; they simply think you’ve been occupied with matters related to the Avengers, and far too busy with truly important work to concern yourself with a pathetic Midgardian who could not even show you the respect of ending the relationship face-to-face.” Loki added, his tone shifting to downright disgust as he described Chris.

“You sound pissed at him…” Theo commented, not sure what to make of Loki’s sudden shift in temper.

“I will admit, I may have assisted in the development of a few of Barnes and Belova’s revenge fantasies.” Just like that, Loki returned to his usually clever self, offering Theo an impish grin to accompany his wry remark. “But we need not discuss further, if you wish.”

“Maybe later.” Without thinking, Theo let her head tilt to the side, resting on Loki’s shoulder; the conversation with Loki had alleviated some of her worries, enough to make her reconsider the decision to stay in bed. “A change of scenery would be nice.”

Loki turned to Theo; with the angle of her head upon his shoulder, Theo could feel Loki’s satisfied grin as it curled over his lips.

“I knew you wouldn’t stay hidden away for long,” Loki murmured, his breath a comforting warmth upon Theo’s scalp. He sat up and away from the headboard, rising effortlessly from the bed before offering a hand to Theo and helping her to her feet. His hand found a place on the small of her back as they walked through Theo’s suite, reminding Theo of all the other times Loki naturally looked out for her, all the while never making her feel uncomfortable or guilty about it. It struck her that for so long, Loki was seen as a bad person because of past events, but the reality was that anyone would be lucky to have him as a friend - Theo certainly felt lucky to have him looking out for her.

Just before they reached the door, Theo turned to Loki and threw her arms around him, hugging him tight.

A small grunt of surprise came from Loki, though he returned the gesture without missing a beat.

“I know I said it before, but really - thank you,” Theo tried to explain herself as she leaned away, cheeks heating up at how basic she sounded. “As embarrassing as the whole meltdown thing was, I’m glad you were the one there to help me through it.”

Loki leaned away as well, a sheepish smile on his face as he replied:

“I’m glad I was, too.”

Tell me, would you put your money on me? Count it - one, two, three Both of us are trouble with a capital “T” But you're safe with me I wanna know baby, would you count on me? 'Cause I'd bet on you, baby, that's easy money That's easy money

—————

Author’s Note: Hello friends!

I'm trying something new - author's notes at the end of the chapter instead of the beginning.

Last week had all of the hurt, this week has lots of comfort and soft fluff. And Sam and Bucky being Sam and Bucky. 😂🥰

Here’s the deal: I’m about to head into the busiest time of year for work (between the 18th and 29th of March, I will not have any days off and will clock about 120 hours of in-person meetings and events - that isn’t including things that I need to finish independently); in addition, my capstone and independent study report for my master’s are due on April 19th, followed by my master’s portfolio on April 26th.

Over spring break I tried to write ahead as much as possible, but I haven’t made the progress I was hoping to make. As it is, this chapter is just sliding in before the end of the night. With that in mind, I’m hoping to sneak a chapter out once I have the chance to flex some time at work in a few weeks, but in the absolute worst case scenario, that first weekend in May is reading period for my students and when my schedule completely clears out, so I’ll definitely be able to share something then! Anyways, thanks for your patience, and hope you enjoy <3 reblogs are always appreciated, and lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

#loki #loki fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu fanfiction #loki x oc fanfiction #loki fluff #loki comfort #loki slow burn #friends to lovers #Avengers AU #wemtbb #when everything's made to be broken #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki angst

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crimsonstonetranslations · 11 months

Text

Shinrei Tantei Yakumo volume 10 - file 03

Shinrei Tantei Yakumo novel translation

Volume 10 - Signpost of the Spirit

( prologue | file 01 - omen | file 02 - confession )

file 03 - signpost (translation notes)

His body felt incredibly heavy, and his vision blurry as if surrounded by a thick fog.

He tried to move, but to no avail. His body refused to budge even an inch, almost like it was already detached from his consciousness.

He felt like he had already lost his body and only his consciousness remained. Strangely enough, however, a sharp pain plagued him at regular intervals.

What is happening to me?

Gotou asked himself.

At the same time, multiple shadows rapidly flashed through his mind.

Nao, standing at the street at night, looking at Gotou with hollow eyes—

Headlights of an approaching car shining upon Nao’s figure. Her elongated shadow. Gotou’s body had naturally moved at the sight of it.

He had jumped across the street to save Nao.

Afterwards, he had felt a hard impact—

When he had come to, he had been lying down atop the asphalt.

Nao had been staring down at Gotou from above.

Although the outward appearance had been Nao’s, Gotou was certain they hadn’t been Nao’s eyes. Rather, they had been someone else's.

After smiling faintly at Gotou, Nao had slowly walked away.

Stop! Don’t go there! Gotou yelled.

However, his voice had refused to come out.

Nao had gone increasingly further away.

Don’t leave. Without you, how are we supposed to continue on living afterwards?

What a strange feeling.

Prior to Nao’s arrival at his household, things had felt normal without her presence.

But what about now?

After having Nao’s presence up close and feeling a sense of normality in their togetherness, he had grown scared of losing the little girl.

In a way, perhaps love was humankind’s greatest weakness.

No! That’s not true! Gotou shouted within his heart.

Be it strength or weakness, he didn’t care. Living with Nao had brought him happiness.

Reasoning be damned. He didn’t want to lose those days of joy. That’s why—

“Nao…” called Gotou.

A white space flashed before his eyes as if clouded with fog. Nao’s figure was nowhere to be found. Besides, Nao wouldn’t appear just from calling out her name.

Even so, Gotou continued to call out for her.

“Nao...”

Gotou repeatedly choked from pain, yet he called out for her nonstop.

“Nao.”

A black figure had been standing amidst the fog for quite some time.

For a moment, he thought it was Nao.

No, that’s not Nao.

Who?

“Don’t worry,” whispered the figure.

While the tone may have sounded unenergetic, the voice was gentle.

“I will definitely bring Nao home,” said the figure again.

Gotou’s heart, which had been filled with worry, immediately grew calm. While he didn’t know the voice’s identity, he felt that he could trust it.

“Please help Nao...” said Gotou, to which the figure nodded. Relief came over Gotou afterwards and his consciousness then subsided—

Rays of sunshine entered from the gaps between the curtains—

She didn't know how long it had been since morning arrived.

Morning would always come around no matter what. Such a simple fact made the void within her heart grow larger.

After returning home from the Movie Research Circle clubroom last night, Haruka felt no motivation to do anything and remained lying on her bed.

Haruka felt a sense of fatigue she had never felt before, even lifting a finger felt like a chore. And oddly enough, although fatigued, drowsiness never came over her.

Haruka had attempted to close her eyes several times, yet she remained wide awake.

Her mind began to wander, all the while feeling as if she was floating on a body of water.

Her thoughts were mostly filled with regret.

That night, Haruka had gone to Yakumo’s hideout with the intention of expressing all of her thoughts.

While her intention had been achieved, regret began to emerge within her over the realisation that she could have chosen her words differently. Spewing her thoughts emotionally the way she had might have only puzzled Yakumo even further.

Furthermore, she had ended up expressing her hidden feelings at the end of their conversation.

Even though Haruka had prepared herself to be hated, she couldn’t help but feel a gaping hole within her heart at the thought of never seeing Yakumo again.

Haruka could never imagine life without Yakumo. She was reminded of that fact once more.

No, that wasn’t it.

She knew that Yakumo had become an important person to her, one who was irreplaceable.

Hence, she had avoided expressing her feelings all this time out of fear of destroying their relationship.

However, it was too late for regret.

The words that had been said couldn’t be taken back anymore. The time that had already passed couldn’t be treated as if it had never happened.

She turned to change her position and sighed.

Funny how she had only thought about her feelings now. She should have already made up her mind not to care over what Yakumo thought about her, as long as he would make a move to look for Nao.

Perhaps this trait of hers was her weakness.

That’s right. I have to find Nao.

The thought popped into Haruka’s mind yet again.

Truthfully, she was drained physically and mentally and didn’t even feel like moving an inch. Even so, she couldn’t stop here. No matter what happened, Haruka needed to step up and search for Nao.

She didn’t think Nao would be found solely through her own actions, but if she continued to not do a thing, she couldn’t be one to criticise Yakumo either.

Come on, search.

Haruka tried to sit up, but her body remained motionless. It was as if the connection between her consciousness and her body was severed.

Perhaps it could be that while she wanted to get up, she was actually fast asleep and was in the middle of a dream. Haruka felt that way right now.

Yakumo-kun, help, mumbled Haruka within her heart.

Strange. Without realising, she had turned to ask Yakumo for help.

That was proof of just how big Yakumo’s presence had become within her.

“This is bad…” said Haruka, shedding a tear.

Even though she had cried herself to exhaustion last night, her tears hadn’t completely run out—

Suddenly, her phone rang.

Maybe it was a call from Ishii or Makoto. There might have been some development around the case. No, it could also be from Atsuko–

Her blood drained at the thought.

Did something happen to Gotou-san?

Haruka forced herself to reach for her phone, before pressing the answer button.

“Hello?” greeted Haruka, picking up the call apprehensively.

<It’s me—>

The voice heard from the other end of the call was Yakumo’s—

Haruka nearly dropped her phone without noticing.

“Yes.” Haruka held onto her phone with both hands.

She grew fearful at the thought of what Yakumo was about to say. She wanted badly to just hang up the call, but that felt the same as running away.

Haruka had dumped her feelings one-sidedly last night. So Yakumo also had the right to state his thoughts like Haruka had done.

And, no matter how scared she was, Haruka had the duty to hear him out.

Yakumo chuckled at the opposite end of the line.

“N-No,” Haruka hurriedly denied, but she didn’t understand at all.

Why did Yakumo suddenly—?

As she had braced herself to get hated on just a moment earlier, Haruka grew even more dumbfounded.

She couldn’t understand how Yakumo could joke nonchalantly after everything that had happened yesterday.

However, she didn’t want to question it.

<Do you have a moment to talk?> asked Yakumo with a serious tone unlike before.

“Y-yes.”

<I’d like to request for your assistance.>

“Eh?” Haruka got more confused.

What is Yakumo-kun actually talking about? What did he mean by requesting my assistance?

Yakumo’s words vibrated through Haruka’s eardrums, creating a massive ripple within her heart.

The tears that should’ve dried by now began to fall once again.

“Of course!” yelled Haruka in a sob.

A cell phone ring could be heard from a distance.

The noise harshly woke Ishii up from his sleep. He had been sleeping on top of the table for an unknown amount of time.

He searched for his glasses and examined the surface of the table while rubbing his eyes. They were nowhere to be found. Had they fallen somewhere?

However, as he shifted his wheeled office chair, he heard an ominous cracking noise.

Ishii hurriedly went down from his chair, crouching on the floor. That was when he found his glasses, laid there in a horrendous state.

The left lens was cracked, and the frame was bent as well.

Goodness.

With disappointment, he attempted to wear them.

They could still hang over his ears, but they were out of shape. Not to mention the left side was completely broken.

“That thing is already unusable. When you have time, go and buy a new one,” said Miyagawa who sat across from him.

Apparently Miyagawa had just woken up as well; he held back his yawn with a sleepy expression.

“I can't. We haven’t found Nao yet,” said Ishii firmly.

Although the left side of his glasses was totally broken, it wasn’t like he couldn’t wear them at all if he were to adjust the frame a little. There was no way that he could casually go to an eyewear shop while Nao remained missing.

“There’s no use if you collapse from overexerting yourself.”

“But I can’t just leave it be.”

“Well, that is true. But we can’t do anything anymore,“ Miyagawa lightly clicked his tongue.

The search for Nao that they had been on since last night hadn’t seen any development. In fact, the situation became messier because Sayama had fallen to his death.

However, Ishii had no intention of giving up.

Even now, Gotou was fighting between life and death. There was no way he could rest.

“I’m still going to keep looking!” exclaimed Ishii.

Miyagawa snorted, laughing in disbelief. “Yes, yes. No time for small talk, let’s go and look for her.”

“Yes!” Ishii answered energetically, but he didn’t actually have a plan.

Like this, they could only continue their search for Nao while interviewing people around the area.

While he had now equipped himself with burning determination, anxiousness returned to taunt him.

Is there still time for us to do something?

This was the second day since Nao had disappeared. The longer they took, the less likely it would be for her to return alive.

All the more if she were actually possessed.

Yakumo had previously said that humans possessed by a ghost would slowly grew weaker and weaker, before eventually dying—

Even if they were to find Nao, there would be no use if she was already dead.

“Nevermind that, somebody rang your phone earlier,” said Miyagawa, returning Ishii to his senses.

It was only then that he realised he had been shot awake earlier from the sound of the phone ringing. He had forgotten all about it because of his broken glasses.

Ishii hurriedly grabbed his phone, checking the incoming call history.

It was from Yakumo.

Amidst the chaotic situation, a call from Yakumo was something he greatly needed. Yakumo had to know how to get them out of this situation.

Ishii intended to call back immediately, but he stopped his hand.

Yakumo’s left eye could no longer see.

An average human being like Ishii would be able to live a normal life relying exclusively on his right eye. Just like his current predicament, where he could continue about his day despite his glasses’ left lens being cracked.

But Yakumo was different.

Yakumo’s left eye saw a completely different world. And right now, Yakumo lost a world that he had always been familiar with.

Would the current Yakumo still be able to find clues to solve the case?

No, I shouldn’t think of these things.

Ishii shook his head.

Yakumo had called him, so he had to have some business with him. Ishii convinced himself and promptly called back.

Unfortunately, Yakumo’s phone appeared to be busy so the call didn’t go through.

Having already braced himself, he became disappointed.

As Ishii slumped his shoulders listlessly, the phone he was holding began to ring.

He jolted out of surprise and picked up the call.

“Hello? This is Ishii Yuutarou.”

Ishii thought it had to be Yakumo calling, but the voice at the other end of the call turned out to be Makoto’s.

“Oh...Makoto-san?”

Makoto’s tone sounded angry.

“No, no. It’s not like that. Um...I thought it was from Yakumo, so...it’s not because I don’t like getting calls from you or something.” Sweat began to form all over Ishii’s body across his forehead, armpits, and back, at the thought of Makoto hating him.

<Oh? Then maybe I shouldn’t call you again next time.>

“No, no. Really. That’s not what I meant.”

<I’m joking. You’re forgiven.>

Ishii felt relief upon hearing Makoto’s stifled laugh.

As he thought about it again, it felt strange.

When they had met for the first time, Ishii had been scared to receive calls from Makoto. It hadn’t been Makoto’s fault, but rather the circumstance in which they had first met.

Ishii had first met Makoto while she had been possessed. He had grown fearful of the sight of her face as it had reminded him of the horrors of that time. Even so, his fear had long since completely disappeared.

While he didn’t fully understand the reason, the previous case might have been a significant trigger.

Wait, now was not the right time to think of such unnecessary things.

“So, what’s going on?”

“A message from Yakumo-shi?”

<Yes. He said he had tried to call you but there had been no answer, so he wanted me to deliver the message to you.>

Earlier, Ishii hadn’t been able to pick up Yakumo’s call in time. When he had attempted to call back, Yakumo’s line had been busy. It turned out to be because Yakumo had been speaking to Makoto.

“I see. So, what was the message?”

“Is that true?”

<It is. He said, please help me out—> said Makoto, imitating Yakumo’s way of speaking.

“I can’t imagine Yakumo-shi saying such a thing,” said Ishii straightforwardly.

Yakumo was a calm, composed person who kept to himself. He wasn’t the type to show his weakness in front of others.

Ishii was surprised that Yakumo had said ‘help me’.

“Haruka-chan?”

“That’s true—” Ishii said naturally.

This was strange as well.

He used to be jealous when seeing Haruka, whom he liked, getting closer to Yakumo, but now those feelings were nonexistent.

“I’ll go over there immediately,” said Ishii before ending the call and hurried to leave the room.

But Miyagawa suddenly pulled the collar of his shirt.

“You! How could you go on a date at a time like this? How dare you!”

“D-date?”

Miyagawa seemed to have misunderstood.

Ishii tried to explain the situation, yet he struggled to do so. “That’s not it!” he denied as he forcefully freed himself from Miyagawa’s grasp before running.

And then he fell—

Haruka stood in front of the door to the Movie Research Circle clubroom.

Memories of the events from last night flashed vividly in her mind once again, making her scared of opening the door.

Yakumo’s call from this morning felt like a fever dream out of her own wishful thinking, and when she opened the door, perhaps Yakumo would insult her, saying ‘you still have the nerve to come here?’

No, maybe Yakumo wouldn’t even talk to her.

It was perhaps even possible that Yakumo would refuse to meet Haruka’s eyes, as if Haruka didn’t exist.

What now?

“Morning.”

Someone abruptly patted Haruka’s shoulder.

She turned around, jumping out of surprise.

Makoto was standing there.

“M-Makoto-san. Why are you here?”

“Yakumo-kun called me over. Same goes for you, right?”

“Eh? Ah, yes.”

If Makoto had also been called over, then the call she had received from Yakumo this morning hadn’t been a dream after all.

“Haruka-chan, good work,” said Makoto gently whilst staring at Haruka’s face.

“Eh?”

“Yakumo-kun finally made a move to find Nao-chan because you cheered him on, right?”

“I...didn’t do anything...” Haruka quietly said, shaking her head.

She wasn’t trying to be humble. Haruka really hadn’t done anything. The only thing she had done had been dumping her emotions as she pleased.

Had there been a change of heart within Yakumo, it had to come from Yakumo himself.

“With that swollen face that looked like you’ve been crying the entire night, there was no way that you didn’t do anything, right?” said Makoto with a smile, adding a wink in the end.

Having it pointed out made Haruka suddenly feel embarrassed. She had in fact worn thicker makeup than usual to cover it up, but apparently her face was still obviously showing that she had just cried a lot.

“Let’s go,” invited Makoto as she opened the door.

Haruka entered the Movie Research Circle clubroom while hiding behind Makoto.

Yakumo appeared to be sitting in his usual chair. His hair was messy, his face gloomy, and he wore his usual pair of white shirt and jeans.

Yakumo didn’t look any different from yesterday, except for one thing. He had taken off the eyepatch that he had been wearing over his left eye.

The vertical scar on his eye was clearly visible.

Upon noticing Haruka and Makoto’s arrival, unlike usual, Yakumo said, “Sorry for calling you over so early in the morning,” before ushering them inside.

“Your left eye...is it able to see already?” asked Makoto, throwing a question that Haruka wasn’t able to say.

“No. I still can’t see anything,” Yakumo shook his head flatly.

Haruka felt disappointed, but to think about it, it was to be expected. They wouldn’t have been struggling had Yakumo’s eye been able to heal so easily.

“Is that so...” mumbled Makoto listlessly.

The corner of Yakumo’s mouth formed a little smile. “Although I can’t see yet, I’m taking off my eyepatch to show that I want to be able to see.”

Yakumo’s words moved Haruka’s heart.

She had said harsh things to Yakumo last night, despite knowing that he had been suffering. And despite it all, Yakumo was now saying that he wanted to be able to see.

Yakumo had to have gone through a long internal struggle before finally reaching that decision. Without being prepared to accept his past, he wouldn’t have been able to say he wanted to see.

Haruka was happy for Yakumo’s preparedness, yet she felt guilty at the same time, as she felt she might have forced Yakumo to take a cruel path.

“Don’t worry. Even if my left eye can’t see, there has to be something I can do,” Yakumo said in a firm tone as he briefly stared at Haruka.

Haruka had no idea what he was thinking. Nevertheless, Yakumo’s gaze had never been this strong.

Receiving the stare, Haruka made up her resolve. There was no use in regretting at this point. If Yakumo had made up his mind, then she would follow his lead.

Even if the outcome might be painful, she would see it to the end. It was the only thing Haruka could do now.

“We’ll be in your care,” said Makoto with a smile before sitting on the nearest chair.

Haruka also sat herself down on a chair right across Yakumo.

The chair that Haruka had always sat on every time she came to this room. As she had thought that she’d never be able to sit here ever again, the rigid feel of the folding chair now felt so nostalgic.

“So...” Yakumo’s words were stopped as the door opened loudly.

Entering the room was Ishii.

“S-sorry. I’m late.”

He looked like he had been in a hurry. His forehead was sweating, breaths panting. Furthermore, Ishii’s glasses frame appeared bent and the left lens was missing.

“Ishii! What happened?” Makoto yelled in surprise and stood up.

“No..that…the traffic was unexpectedly heavy...” explained Ishii, scratching his head with guilt.

“Not that. Your glasses...” said Makoto, staring at Ishii’s face.

Perhaps Makoto thought that Ishii had been hit by somebody, or something along those lines. Haruka had thought the same upon noticing Ishii’s glasses.

Even so, his face looked too clean to belong to someone who had just been hit.

“Aah, this? It’s embarrassing, but my glasses broke because I crushed them myself...” said Ishii, laughing bitterly.

“Silly you,” exclaimed Makoto, hitting Ishii’s shoulder.

Given everything that had happened, the enjoyable conversation made Haruka’s heart feel a little lighter.

“Has everyone gathered?”

The door opened up once more, and Eishin was the one who entered this time around.

“Eishin-san too?” asked Haruka.

Eishin nodded. “Of course. I was the one who brought up the case. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I continue to ignore that,” he said, bursting out laughing.

“Anyway, please be seated first,” ushered Yakumo. Ishii and Makoto nodded altogether and sat on their chairs.

Eishin also sat on a nearby chair, while Haruka turned to face Yakumo once more.

Yakumo’s red eye might not be able to see yet, but since Yakumo had begun moving like this, they now had the expectation that he would be able to solve the case.

Yakumo’s presence was indeed significant.

“Now...I’d like everyone to tell me everything you have discovered so far—” said Yakumo while rubbing his hands together.

Looking at him, Makoto sighed in relief.

Ever since his left eye had been injured, Yakumo had lost his confidence and had the appearance of someone who had completely given up.

It was different now, though.

Makoto turned to see Haruka’s face. Though covered up by makeup, Haruka’s eyes appeared as if she had just cried a lot and her eyelids looked heavy. Her nose was red as well. Those were proof of Haruka’s efforts.

Yakumo had to have been able to get himself back on his two feet thanks to Haruka who had pushed herself that far.

I’m jealous.

Makoto felt that way.

Yakumo and Haruka had become irreplaceable to each other.

They were intertwined not merely just by love, but by their souls. The very definition of soulmates.

Would she ever be able to achieve such an existence, too?

Makoto grew embarrassed and quickly got rid of the thoughts in her head. Just as she did, Ishii began talking.

“Miyagawa-san and I were tracing Nao’s whereabouts, but it hasn’t been going well...” said Ishii as an opening before further explaining the progress of their search up to that point.

Based on the driver’s testimony and the scene of the accident, Gotou had suddenly jumped into the street. There hadn’t been anyone else at the scene aside from Gotou and Nao.

Then, Ishii had traced Nao’s footsteps from security camera footage and witness’ information.

According to those two sources, Nao most likely had gone to the Signpost apartment. Yet, despite searching all over the apartment building, Nao hadn’t been found.

He had asked nearby residents as well, but had failed to gain any valuable information.

At the end of his story, Ishii explained how Sayama had died from falling.

Makoto’s heart sank upon hearing that fact once more. Had they acted more efficiently, Sayama might not have died. Her chest ached at the thought.

Her mind knew there was no use regretting now, but her heart refused to ditch the feelings so easily.

“Died from a fall, huh,” said Yakumo with a serious expression, seemingly interested in Sayama’s falling incident.

“Yes. His apartment window was open. It was suspected that he had gone out to the balcony from that window and fell,” elaborated Ishii while reading his notes.

“Suicide?” asked Yakumo, putting one hand under the chin.

“There were no signs of struggle in the room, and the entrance was locked. The detective handling the case assumes it was a suicide, but...”

“You have a different idea, Ishii-san?”

“Yes. A few things feel out of place.”

“What things exactly?”

“First of all, apparently Sayama had been living with a woman, but after this incident, the woman was nowhere to be seen.”

“I see. If the person who lived with him was his lover, it would be unusual for her not to show herself.”

“Yes. Furthermore, before Sayama fell to his death, he had said something strange.”

“Something strange?”

“Makoto-san knows better about it,” said Ishii, turning to Makoto.

Makoto responded with a nod before explaining about Sayama.

As her story would make no sense if she solely mentioned the phone call prior to Sayama’s death, Makoto began by explaining how Sayama had consulted her about a spiritual phenomenon whilst showing the ghost photos that Sayama had taken.

Yakumo carefully examined the photo displayed on the tablet.

Now that she thought about it, Sayama’s phone call was difficult to comprehend. From the conversation, there was no doubt that something had been happening to him. Makoto didn’t think he committed suicide.

“Is that so….” mumbled Yakumo once Makoto had finished talking. “It wasn’t a spiritual phenomenon or anything like that…are you certain Sayama-san said that?”

Makoto nodded at Yakumo’s question.

“Suppose that the man’s words were true, does that mean there really wasn’t any spiritual phenomenon at that apartment?” asked Eishin, rubbing his split chin.

Judging from Sayama’s way of speaking, it was likely. The events occurring at the apartment building hadn’t been spiritual phenomena and Sayama had been killed for discovering that secret—while the idea sounded forced, Makoto suspected that had been the case.

One reason behind her suspicion was how the events at the apartment building didn’t match the theory of how ghosts were incapable of physical influence.

Another reason was Sayama’s line, ‘why didn’t I realise all this time’, so it was natural for Makoto to come to that conclusion.

“I can’t comment on anything for now, but I can’t deny that possibility either. Anyway, there’s still one more thing I’m curious about,” said Yakumo as he leaned against his chair, arms crossed.

“About what?” asked Makoto, leaning over.

Yakumo laughed bitterly. “No. The basis is weak as of now...”

Yakumo seemed to have a different impression of things compared to Makoto. However, once he responded like this, Yakumo would refuse to elaborate his line of thinking no matter how much anyone tried to pry it out of him.

“Makoto-san, you have been investigating the spiritual phenomenon, correct?” asked Yakumo, changing the topic.

“Yes.”

“Could you tell me what you’ve found out as well as the status of the investigation in detail?”

Makoto nodded. She then began explaining her investigation with regards to the apartment building.

Before the apartment had been built, there had been a shopping mall at the location. Prior to that, it had been an orphanage called Michishirube.

Michishirube had been burnt to the ground in a fire that had claimed the lives of ten children. Preceding the fire were suspicions against the orphanage that had caused further problems down the line. To support that suspicion, Hirosawa Shozo—the man who had been running the orphanage—had committed suicide following the fire. Makoto spoke while showing old newspaper articles of the incident.

As Makoto finished her explanation, Yakumo let out a long sigh.

Yakumo appeared to have something in mind, but Makoto wasn’t able to make a guess.

“So, how is it?” asked Ishii to Yakumo while adjusting his glasses.

Everyone who was present in the room turned their eyes to Yakumo.

It would’ve been good had they been able to solve the mystery of this case by themselves, but that wasn’t possible. Unfortunately, they had no choice but to rely on Yakumo.

Everyone thought that despite Yakumo’s left eye being unable to see, he would be capable of leading them to solve this bizarre case.

Still crossing his arms, Yakumo turned to gaze at the ceiling before closing his eyes.

Silence ensued.

All of them gulped as they waited for Yakumo to finish thinking.

Yakumo must have felt the expectations of the four people in the room.

After a long period of silence, Yakumo opened his eyes and sat upright. He touched the base of his nose with his index finger, narrowing his eyes.

Makoto shivered at the sight of Yakumo’s sharp gaze. At the same time, she felt that Yakumo had reached a different conclusion from what they could think of.

“I would like to ask for all of your help,” said Yakumo.

The heavy atmosphere from earlier was gone in an instant with that sentence.

“Ishii-san and Makoto-san have worked so hard. But, please help me a little bit more,” said Yakumo, bowing his head, and no one there had any complaints.

After receiving instructions from Yakumo, Ishii, Makoto, and Eishin left the room.

They were back in high spirits now, that the glum atmosphere that had been enveloping them since earlier felt like an illusion.

Nao was still missing and the dire situation hadn’t changed. Even so, each of them had discovered what they needed to do.

All thanks to Yakumo.

Amidst the endless darkness, Yakumo had become the beacon of light for everyone.

Last night, he had said that he couldn’t do anything without his red left eye, but now he knew that wasn’t true.

Just like this, Yakumo had the power to move others’ hearts.

“Now—” said Yakumo whilst standing up.

He must be about to begin the investigation. No matter what he was going to say to her after last night, Haruka wanted to follow after him. That was why there was something she had to say before Yakumo said anything.

“Yakumo-kun—” called Haruka, who stood up to follow suit.

“What?” Yakumo turned to her.

Facing each other like this made Haruka grow scared. However, she wouldn’t be able to go on about the day without speaking out on what had been bothering her.

“I sincerely apologise—” Haruka bowed down. No matter the reason, she shouldn’t have one-sidedly spewed her emotions the way she had the night before.

“Why are you apologising?” mumbled Yakumo.

“Why…? I knew that you had a lot on your mind, and yet I went and said something so cruel...”

Haruka realised that she had essentially rubbed salt into Yakumo’s wounds last night.

Yakumo had suffered so much and felt deep sorrows because of his red left eye. He had become devastated as his life’s meaning had crumbled the moment his left eye could no longer see. Haruka knew all that, and yet she forced Yakumo to continue facing them. Not to mention after saying such cruel words—

Just from the thought, her chest tightened as if her heart was being squeezed.

“That’s enough,” said Yakumo.

“But I...”

“I said, that’s enough.”

Yakumo placed his hand on top of Haruka’s head.

His touch could be felt over Haruka’s hair. It was heavier than she had ever felt, yet warm at the same time.

“But…”

“I’m glad,” said Yakumo calmly before removing his hand from Haruka’s head.

“Eh?” When Haruka finally lifted her face, Yakumo had already turned around and she was facing his back.

“Just as you said, I’m a weak human being. I keep my distance from others, yet I’m scared of being lonely.”

“No. Yakumo-kun...”

“You weren’t wrong. I’ve always lived while hiding my weakness. No one has ever pointed that out loud to me.”

“........”

“Everyone who has ever interacted with me is careful not to offend me. But you were different. You faced a weak and fragile person like me upfront.”

“That was because...”

It had been the only thing Haruka could do.

“Thanks to you, I realised. Even without my red left eye, there’s still things that I can do. No, it’s a little different.”

“What is?”

“I viewed myself as meaningless without my red left eye. That was why I had concluded that I couldn’t do anything.”

“Yakumo-kun...”

“But you’ve told me that I was wrong. Even if my left eye couldn’t see, I’m still myself. So...”

After speaking to that point, Yakumo stopped.

Staring at Yakumo’s back, Haruka waited for the continuation of his sentence. However, Yakumo didn’t say anything further, shaking his head as if erasing his next words.

Yakumo turned to Haruka and spoke with a confident tone, “Enough talking. Anyway, let’s get going—”

Haruka actually wanted to know what Yakumo was thinking. But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Nao’s life was still on the line.

She could ask Yakumo about it once this was all over.

Haruka braced herself once more, but she was suddenly reminded of the words she had blurted out last night right before she had left.

Though she had been carried away by emotion, she had yelled to Yakumo, ‘what I like isn’t imaginary!’

Those words were true from the bottom of Haruka’s heart, but depending on the interpretation, it could have been read as a love confession.

Did Yakumo realise that? There was no way he didn’t. If so, what did he think about that?

While Haruka knew the timing hadn’t been right, she couldn’t help but feel curious.

“Why are you spacing out? Let’s quickly be on our way,” said Yakumo, placing his hand on Haruka’s head once more.

True. Now wasn’t the time for unnecessary thoughts, Haruka prepared herself again before answering, “Yes.”

No need to worry about her own matters. Right now, she had to do everything in her power for Nao.

As soon as he left Yakumo’s room, Ishii immediately contacted Miyagawa—

<Hey! Where have you been running off to?>

Miyagawa’s yelling greeted him.

Indeed, Ishii had left the office without explanation earlier. Miyagawa was understandably upset. The usual Ishii would’ve jumped in surprise, but he didn’t have time for that right now.

“Sorry. I will explain the situation later. Nevermind that, I’d like to ask for your help.”

<Hah? What are you saying? Explain what’s going on first!>

Miyagawa grew even angrier on the other side of the phone.

Ishii understood his superior’s feelings, but there was no point in them arguing then and there. Ishii one-sidedly expressed his request and ended the call before Miyagawa had a chance to protest.

He thought Miyagawa would call back straight away, but he never did.

Although he complained a lot, Miyagawa was the type of person that couldn’t ignore those who needed him. That trait of his was similar to Gotou.

Miyagawa would certainly investigate the matters Ishii had requested in a thorough manner.

Ishii then got in the car to go to the hospital.

Not the hospital where Gotou was being treated, but the one where the forensic doctor Hata Hideyoshi worked.

Upon reaching, he quickly went past the entrance and descended towards the basement.

He still grew fearful of the place despite having been there many times.

The lighting in the long and narrow corridor was dim from the lack of fluorescent lights. Not to mention that the scratches and stains along the wall stood out and gave off a run down impression.

Furthermore, the pungent smell of antiseptic made Ishii anxious.

Despite that, he had to keep moving. Bracing himself, Ishii walked all the way to the door at the end of the corridor before knocking on it.

“Come in, the door isn’t locked.” A hoarse voice could be heard from behind the door.

“Excuse me,” said Ishii as he opened the door.

The smell of antiseptic grew even stronger. No, it wasn’t just antiseptic. What seemed like a hint of blood was also mixed in.

Ishii was further riddled with anxiety.

“Just as I suspected, I thought it’s about time that you came,”

There was a work desk at a narrow corner of the room, filled with rows of cabinets, and Hata was sitting there.

His appearance was that of bones wrapped in skin, along with large, fish-like eyes. Combined with his maniacal way of laughter, it made him comparable to a demon.

“How did you know that I was coming?” asked Ishii.

Hata’s lips widened into a smile. “That bear died, right? So I thought you’d want me to perform an autopsy on him.”

Hata’s tone sounded like he was joking, but his gaze was serious.

While he worked as a forensic doctor, Hata was a pervert who didn’t hesitate to admit his work was a hobby. He had mentioned in the past that he had wanted to autopsy Gotou, and apparently to this day he hadn’t changed his mind.

“Please stop that. Detective Gotou is still alive,” Ishii loudly emphasised.

Hata slumped his shoulder out of disappointment. “Oh. He’s still alive? I heard he was hit by a car, so I thought he was already dead. What a stubborn man.”

“Stubborn…?”

“Rather than a bear, he’s more like a cockroach,” commented Hata while giggling eerily.

“Please stop.”

“So, if not for that bear’s autopsy, why are you here today?” Hata tilted his head.

“You knew about the person who fell to his death from his apartment last night, right? That’s why...” said Ishii, explaining his business coming there.

“Ahh, that one?” Hata gave a disinterested answer.

“I heard you were the one who autopsied him, Hata-san.”

“Yes. It was indeed me.”

“I’d like to ask your opinion about that…”

“Erm, where was it again?” grumbled Hata as he began searching amidst the stack of documents that had piled up on the desk.

His movements were almost like that of a demon.

“Ooh, found it. Here it is,” exclaimed Hata cheerfully as he pulled a document and handed it over to Ishii.

Ishii took it and opened the document.

A photo of Sayama with blood on his head came into view so suddenly that Ishii spontaneously looked away.

He thought he was now braver than before after Gotou had trained him. Yet, to this day he still struggled with photos like this one.

It wasn’t out of disgust. He felt fear at the sight of a human that should have been alive, now transformed into a mass of flesh.

Whenever he looked at these photos, he was reminded of how fragile humans were. He grew restless at the thought that one day, he too would become a mass of flesh just like this.

“What was the cause of death?” asked Ishii as he shifted his gaze from the document to Hata.

“As you can see, it was from cerebral contusion, a traumatic brain injury. I think he died on the spot.”

“Died on the spot…?”

“Yes. Most likely he didn’t even have the chance to feel pain at all.”

Ishii couldn’t decide whether not having the chance to realise that he was dying was a good or a bad thing.

“Is there anything else that caught your attention?” asked Ishii.

Hata frowned. “What are you suspecting?”

“Even if you asked what, I don’t know myself. It’s just that no matter what, it’s difficult to treat it as a regular case of death from falling.”

“The young detective that’s handling this case thinks that he committed suicide.”

“Yes. But either way, something is off.”

“What exactly?” asked Hata.

Ishii briefly explained everything that had happened thus far whilst focusing on the message that Sayama had left right before his death.

Once Ishii was done explaining, Hata exclaimed “Ooh,” and touched his chin. “Interesting,” he said, laughing.

“I don’t think it was interesting.”

“Is that so? There’s no need to be so rigid. Not that there wasn’t anything that caught my attention, though,” said Hata.

“W-what thing?”

Ishii leaned forward without realising.

“While it could possibly be an accident, I think there was no way he committed suicide.”

“Eh?”

“Just look at the photos and you’ll understand,” said Hata.

Ishii gagged at the idea of looking at the photos again, but he wouldn’t be able to make any progress otherwise.

After mentally preparing himself, Ishii stared at the photo inside the document. However, he still couldn’t understand what Hata meant afterwards.

“What do you mean?”

“Looking at the man’s wound, he had fallen with his back first.”

At Hata’s explanation, Ishii came to a realisation.

There was a large tear wound at the back of Sayama’s head so it was obvious that he had bumped his head from the fall.

When Ishii had been at the crime scene, Sayama had been laying down on his back as well.

If he had committed suicide, normally he would have fallen face first.

“Have you pointed this out to the detective that’s handling the case?” asked Ishii.

“Of course,” Hata answered confidently.

“Then, why was it suspected to be a suicide case?”

“You’ve been in the police force for a while, so you should know why as well,” said Hata.

His words weighed on Ishii’s shoulders.

The police handled a lot of cases. Compared to the number of cases, the amount of manpower was extremely lacking. They were severely understaffed. As a result, cases that didn’t stand out were often closed as either a suicide or an accident.

Not too long ago, there had also been a commotion when a case that had first been treated as a suicide had been revealed to be a series of murders targeting insurance payouts upon further investigation.

Whilst embarrassed at himself, Ishii now realised that this case may be being treated similarly to those cases.

The first thing Makoto did was send messages to everyone who might have known Sayama through social media.

Her goal was to gather information about Sayama’s lover.

Sayama’s death wasn’t widely reported, so most people probably didn’t know about it just yet.

Because of that, Makoto had struggled to compose her message and it had consumed a considerable amount of time.

After sending the message to everyone at once, Makoto sighed in relief.

With this, hopefully she could gather some information, although she shouldn’t get her hopes up too much.

Next, Makoto made a call to Otone Real Estate.

She requested the woman who picked up the call to transfer her call not to Miyama, but Yamashina.

The waiting tone played for a while before Yamashina’s voice spoke, <Hello?>

“Thank you for yesterday. I’m Hijikata from Hokutou newspaper.”

<Ahh. You…> answered Yamashina listlessly.

From his response, Yamashina appeared to let his guard down around Makoto.

“There’s something I’d like to ask you…”

Yamashina quickly replied.

It was hard for Makoto to imagine how Miyama would’ve scolded Yamashina. Most likely, Miyama had reported him to higher management and Yamashina was scolded by their superiors.

“Yes, I know. That’s why I won’t trouble you more than this, Yamashina-san.”

“Actually, I’d like to ask, Yamashina-san. Could you introduce your older brother to me?”

There was a moment of silence from the other side of the call.

“Yes. Based on your story yesterday, your brother was involved in the construction of the shopping mall and had experienced some strange phenomena. I’d like to ask him about it.”

Yamashina went silent once again upon hearing Makoto’s words.

Perhaps he was trying to figure out what exactly Makoto was looking for.

Yamashina’s question was to be expected. He must have felt odd that someone was pursuing events that happened over forty years ago. However—

“These aren’t events of the past,” said Makoto firmly.

“To this day, spiritual phenomena continue to occur in the apartment building, right? So, I think these aren’t past occurrences, but an ongoing one.”

<That’s true...>

“Personally, I think that the current spiritual phenomena have been going on since forty years ago.”

<Well, perhaps that’s really the case.>

“That’s why I feel that this case might be solved faster by asking Yamashina-san's brother, who knows about the events from forty years ago.”

Yamashina must’ve wanted to say that Makoto’s interest had gone past that of work-related reasons.

It was understandable of him. In fact, Makoto had never considered this case as work since the start of her investigation.

Furthermore—

“You know that someone had fallen to death at that apartment yesterday, right?” asked Makoto. She could hear Yamashina sighing at the other end of the call.

The atmosphere of rejection could be felt in an instant.

After yesterday’s incident, Yamashina must’ve been pressured to immediately reject Makoto. His superiors clearly had instructed him not to say anything unnecessary.

<Sorry, regarding that—>

“The deceased was my co-worker,” Makoto quickly interrupted Yamashina’s sentence. She could feel Yamashina holding his breath on the other side.

“Yes. He had consulted me about the spiritual phenomena at that apartment building. That was why I had been investigating it. But I was too late...”

Makoto’s chest felt heavy as she spoke.

Indeed, the death of an acquaintance could leave a deep scar on one’s heart.

There was sympathy in Yamashina’s voice.

Since they first met, Makoto had had the hunch that Yamashina was an emotional person. It didn’t feel right taking advantage of Yamashina’s kindness, but Makoto couldn’t just end their conversation with no outcome.

“I want to find out the cause behind the spiritual phenomena for the sake of Sayama-san.”

Yamashina replied doubtfully. Even so, Makoto felt that deep down that wasn’t his true feelings.

“I don’t think it was unrelated.”

“The timing was too odd.”

<Well, that’s true...>

“If strange rumours were to surface about the apartment building because of this, wouldn’t it cause trouble to your company? I think that solving the spiritual phenomena is important not just to me, but to your company as well,” emphasised Makoto.

Yamashina went silent. If he still refused after all that talk from Makoto, she would try to come up with something else.

<Alright. I will reach out to my brother,> answered Yamashina.

Makoto stroked her chest in relief. “Thank you very much.”

<Goodness. I’ve lost against your persistence. How about you take my son’s hand in marriage?>

“Sorry. I already have a partner,” replied Makoto, making Yamashina laugh on the other end.

<Don’t take my words seriously like that. I was just joking.>

Makoto laughed as well.

Her words had come out on their own earlier, but who did she even mean by partner? She felt embarrassed now.

“Um…Sorry, even though I’ve just pressured you to help me, there’s actually one more thing I’d like your help for.”

Makoto could feel the uncomfortable atmosphere from the call.

It couldn’t be helped if she were rejected. With that in mind, Makoto stated her request.

Unexpectedly, Yamashina gave a positive reply. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Makoto thanked him repeatedly, and gave him her contact number before ending the call.

Upon checking her tablet, it turned out she had received a message whilst talking to Yamashina.

It was from Shigemori, a freelance writer. Now that she thought about it, Shigemori had often worked together with Sayama and they had been close in their personal lives as well.

This might just be a good side.

Makoto proceeded to open the message.

Haruka stood in front of the apartment with Yakumo—

The building had eight stories with a sizable area of land. The field was filled with greenery and had a spacious feel, one wouldn’t be able to tell that spiritual phenomena took place there just from looking at its appearance.

Haruka was reminded by the fact that while she had heard about the spiritual phenomena, this was her first time setting foot in this place. Like she was finally standing on the starting line.

Normally, she’d ask, ‘what do you see?’ to Yakumo, but this time there was no use in asking that question.

“Come on—” mumbled Yakumo, who walked towards the building entrance and contacted the building management through the intercom.

Not long afterwards, a man wearing a blue shirt appeared.

On his chest was a name plate that spelled Takemoto.

“I’m Saitou. I believe Detective Ishii from the Setamachi precinct had contacted you earlier…” said Yakumo.

“Yes, I’ve heard from him,” answered Takemoto who then handed over a key. It was the key to Sayama’s unit.

Usually, outsiders wouldn’t be able to enter the apartment units this easily, but Ishii seemed to have made some prior arrangements.

They thanked him before entering the elevator.

“Are there really spiritual phenomena here?” asked Haruka to Yakumo as the elevator ascended.

“What do you think?”

Yakumo asked her back whilst staring at the elevator ceiling.

“I’m not sure. The apartment’s very clean, and the atmosphere isn’t eerie as if a ghost would appear at all…but since I’ve been told that there’s spiritual phenomena here, I’m starting to view it in that manner…”

“I have the same thought,” said Yakumo, dropping his gaze down to his feet.

“Eh?”

“So everyone is anxious like this, huh…” Yakumo softly mumbled.

Haruka wanted to ask the meaning behind his words, however the elevator had finally reached their destination floor and the door opened.

Yakumo was the first to walk out. Haruka followed suit.

As they arrived in front of the apartment unit that used to be inhabited by Sayama, Yakumo stopped walking. “So this is the place…” he said.

“Yes.”

Yakumo held the keys with hesitance.

Did he sense something?

Before Haruka had the chance to ask, Yakumo turned the keys, pulled the door knob, and entered the unit.

Haruka came in after Yakumo.

The foyer was spacious, equipped with a neatly arranged shoe rack; far from the one-person apartment that Haruka lived in.

Signs of living still lingered here.

That reminded her of the fact that the owner of this apartment had just fallen to his death yesterday.

Yakumo removed his shoes, entered the corridor, and walked straight into the living room far inside the apartment.

Haruka wanted to follow him, but she hesitated.

“What are you doing?” asked Yakumo, urging her to move faster.

Many things were in Haruka’s mind, but nothing would get going if she merely stood there. Haruka steeled her resolve, before removing her shoes and ran after Yakumo’s back.

The living room spanned nearly twenty tatami. Inside was a dining table, sofa, and large-screened television.

Sayama, who was now deceased, or the woman who had lived with him had to have been strict about cleanliness. The space had been thoroughly cleaned.

Yakumo walked all the way towards the television and crouched.

What is he doing?

Ah, right, that was where the ghost photo had been taken.

Yakumo stayed still for a while, before he stood back up and opened the door leading to the balcony.

There were no other tall buildings within the vicinity, so they were greeted by the sight of the city panorama.

The night view from here must’ve been beautiful.

As Haruka’s mind wandered, Yakumo began inspecting the handles of the balcony railing.

At that sight of Yakumo, Haruka was reminded of the fact that Sayama had fallen from there, and her back shivered at the thought.

The railing was quite tall. It looked difficult even for an adult to accidentally fall from it.

After some time, Yakumo stopped inspecting and returned to the room.

Like a duckling, Haruka simply followed Yakumo around. She was truly being useless. Haruka thought hard of anything she could do to help even if just a little, but she ended up merely closing the window.

Yakumo stood in the middle of the living room, covered his right eye using his palm, and casted his gaze across the room.

“So this is how it is…”

Yakumo stared around the room for a while before lowering his hand.

“Did you find something?” asked Haruka.

“Yes,” answered Yakumo, ”now I know that this is how it feels.”

“Eh?”

“Being able to see ghosts was something normal for me. So I didn’t understand the feelings of people who get scared easily by the presence of ghosts.”

“Is that so...”

Having explained that, it was true.

From Yakumo’s perspective, who was used to seeing ghosts, the exaggerated reaction people had towards ghosts must have looked ridiculous.

“But now I understand.”

“About what?”

“Not being able to see makes me this anxious.”

“Yakumo-kun...”

“Them being invisible, yet being able to sense their presence is perhaps even more anxiety-inducing than being able to see ghosts. People are scared because they have no idea what sort of presence they are sensing,” said Yakumo with a light chuckle. His expression looked a little sad.

Haruka wanted to say something to him, but there weren’t any words that she could come up with.

Turned out there was nothing else she could do.

“I think it’s about time we leave this place,” said Yakumo as he took a step.

Right at that moment, a strange event began to occur.

A groaning sound could be heard all of a sudden.

What?

Haruka gazed at her surroundings.

The vase at the kitchen counter began to make noise as it vibrated. Snapping sounds as if the lights had gone out could be heard from all directions.

Could this be the spiritual phenomena in this apartment building?

Moments later, the photo frame on top of the sideboard fell with a thud.

Along with that, the sounds stopped, and the vase that had been vibrating went still.

“This...” said Haruka.

Yakumo shook his head with a serious expression. “I don’t know. If my theory was right, this kind of phenomena couldn’t possibly happen,” he said while ruffling his messy hair in annoyance.

When Gotou had first told them about it, Yakumo had suspected that the spiritual phenomena in this apartment building had been a prank.

Reason being Yakumo’s theory that stated that ghosts didn’t have any physical influence.

And yet, a phenomenon occurred that had gone against that theory.

Had Yakumo’s left eye been able to see, he’d be able to clarify directly whether this was a true spiritual phenomena or the work of a prank. Unfortunately, Yakumo couldn’t do that right now.

Yakumo had to have been plagued by frustration from his inability to know for certain.

“Even if you can’t see right now, I think it’s better if we hold on to your theory,” said Haruka.

Yakumo gave a little smile. “I’d like to do the same, but the ghost photos looked legitimate.”

“That’s true…”

“Maybe my theory was wrong all along.”

“What do you mean?”

“The theory was based on my own experience. So, maybe ghosts could actually exert physical influence, I’ve just never experienced it before,” explained Yakumo as if talking to himself, before approaching the sideboard to pick up the fallen photo frame.

A photo was displayed within the frame.

It was of a woman standing at the edge of the lake at dawn. The person who had taken the photo had probably been Sayama, the owner of this apartment.

Since he had been a photographer, the photo was beautifully taken.

Yakumo stared at the photo intently for some time, before his lips widened into a smile as if he had discovered something.

“So that’s how it is...”

Yakumo’s words were almost like a whisper to Haruka’s ears—

“You fool! Where have you been!”

Miyagawa’s yelling greeted Ishii as soon as he returned to the Unsolved Cases Special Investigations Division.

“S-sorry,” Ishii hurriedly apologised, but Miyagawa’s anger didn’t seem to match the loud volume of his voice.

Ishii felt disappointed for some reason.

“What on earth are you doing while Gotou’s daughter is in danger…?”

Miyagawa’s words made Ishii freeze.

“What happened to Nao?” asked Ishii in a panic.

Miyagawa grimaced in annoyance. “What? She went missing, didn’t she?”

“Oh…I thought something else had happened to Nao…”

Ishii truly felt relieved.

Just now, Miyagawa’s words had made him imagine the worst case scenario in cold sweat. But that wasn’t the case.

“Here. The document that you requested earlier,” said Miyagawa, tossing an old document towards Ishii.

“Thank you.”

Ishii intended to catch the document, but to no success and the contents ended up scattered on the floor. His aiming seemed to be inaccurate due to his broken glasses. He hurriedly gathered the papers from the floor.

“So, what do you need that document for?” asked Miyagawa, who plopped himself on a chair and lit a cigarette.

Ishii really didn’t feel like explaining. Even so, he couldn’t just say nothing after asking for Miyagawa’s help. He then summarised all the events leading up to the current situation.

“So that was how it is. Basically, you’re just being ordered around by that brat without knowing what the document is for,” said Miyagawa, sighing.

“Well, more or less so.”

“Goodness. How pathetic. You’re a police officer, yet you’re not only relying on the help of a university student when the investigation reaches a dead end, you’re even working as his assistant.”

Ishii never thought of it that way before, but being spelt out in such a manner, he now realised that it was true. However—

“But Miyagawa-san, the current situation requires us to rely on Yakumo-shi.”

“Well, that is true.” Ishii thought he was going to get scolded. Unexpectedly, Miyagawa acknowledged the same thing as well.

While indirectly, Miyagawa too had witnessed how Yakumo had managed to solve a myriad of cases.

Yakumo’s abilities were acknowledged by just about everyone.

Despite the lack of vision in his left eye, he would certainly be able to lead them to the truth of the case. Yakumo was a marvel, to be able to make others feel that way.

“In that case, what are you going to do after this?” asked Miyagawa as Ishii’s phone began to ring.

It was from Yakumo.

“Sorry, give me a while,” Ishii excused himself to Miyagawa without answering his question, before moving elsewhere to pick up the call.

<Ishii-san, have you managed to obtain the document?> asked Yakumo directly.

“Which document?”

Yakumo had requested multiple things from Ishii. Without being specific, Ishii had no idea which one Yakumo was referring to.

“Ah, I already have that one.” Ishii glanced at the document he had just received from Miyagawa.

Yakumo’s manner of speech was more eager than usual.

Not too long ago, Ishii had still thought that Yakumo was scary, due to his lack of expression that made it difficult to tell what he was thinking.

However, recently Ishii had realised that although Yakumo hardly showed any expression, there were hints of emotion in the tone of his voice.

Yakumo had probably discovered something and was getting slightly fired up.

“I understand. I will bring it over now,” said Ishii.

He could also explain the information from Hata at the same time. Ishii then asked for Yakumo’s location before ending the call.

“What is it this time?” Miyagawa raised an eyebrow.

He must have guessed that the person Ishii had been speaking to on the call had been none other than Yakumo.

“I am delivering this to Yakumo-shi now,” said Ishii, holding up the document.

Miyagawa laughed in disbelief. “You’re really becoming his servant!”

Ishii couldn’t deny that. If somebody unrelated were to hear about a police officer delivering documents to a university student, they would have been puzzled.

Furthermore, a police officer on duty was leaking investigative information to a university student. If word were to come out, things wouldn’t end with just Ishii's dismissal.

Regardless, there was no use worrying about that now. Besides—

“There’s no other way, in order to solve this case.”

“Goodness…hurry up and go.”

Miyagawa waved his hand as if shooing him out.

He might have appeared scary, but this flexibility was proof of Miyagawa’s kindness.

“Yes!”

As Ishii was about to leave excitedly, Miyagawa suddenly called out to him.

“What is it, sir?”

He had been the one who had told him to leave, yet why did he call out to stop him now? Ishii turned his head in confusion.

“What else are you guys investigating aside from that?” said Miyagawa as he puffed a smoke towards the ceiling.

“Eh?”

“Don’t ‘eh’ me. Surely there are other things you guys are looking into, right? I’ll look into it while you’re away, so hurry up and tell me.”

His way of speaking may have been harsh, but Ishii was deeply moved by his concern.

“I-is that okay?”

“Since when are there things that are okay and things that aren't? It’s all for the sake of finding Gotou’s daughter, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s something I have to do,” said Miyagawa, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray.

“Thank you!”

“No need to thank me. So, what needs investigating?”

“Ah, yes—” Ishii then explained the things that Yakumo had requested to be investigated upon.

Miyagawa frowned in confusion.

He must have had no clue why those things needed investigating. Ishii had the same thought. But since it was Yakumo’s request, there had to be a reason behind all of it.

“Understood. I will see what I can do,” answered Miyagawa, although dissatisfied.

He was truly a reliable superior.

“Thank you very much!” After thanking him, Ishii left the Unsolved Cases Special Investigations Division…and fell—

Makoto paid a visit to the family restaurant in front of the station and sat at a table for four next to the window.

It had been less than an hour since she had called before Yamashina had called her back, stating that he had some free time during lunch to meet her.

If the meeting spot was too close to Yamashina’s office, they might catch the attention of people who knew him, so they decided upon a family restaurant two stations away as their meeting spot.

Although the agreed timing was rather early, restaurants tend to be crowded during lunchtime. Because of that, Makoto had arrived early to reserve their seating.

After ordering a drink, Makoto took out her phone and contacted Shigemori, a writer who replied to her message about Sayama on social media.

The call immediately went through.

<Mako-chan, is it true that Sayama-san passed away?> Shigemori asked promptly.

He seemed to be unaware of Sayama’s death prior to receiving Makoto’s message. His replies were filled with shock.

“Yes...” answered Makoto. A long sigh could be heard from the other end of the call.

<You’ve got to be kidding. Last I saw him some time ago, he had been doing just fine...>

Shigemori’s disbelief towards the situation was the same as Makoto’s.

A sudden death never gave anyone time to sort out their feelings.

<Even though he was such a good person…> Shigemori’s words were filled with emotion.

“I know.”

Shigemori sniffled.

He must be crying at the loss of his best friend.

Makoto couldn’t find the right words to say to Shigemori, and could only respond to signify that she was listening.

<How did it end up like this…?> said Shigemori with a trembling voice.

“I don’t know the details either. The police seem to be treating it as a suicide case...”

<Impossible!> said Shigemori harshly. <An optimistic man like Sayama-san would never have killed himself.>

“I know. That’s why I am investigating it privately.”

<That’s the reason why you wanted to know about Sayama-san’s lover?>

“Yes.”

Regardless of whether Sayama’s death was an accident or suicide, it was strange for the woman who should have been his lover not to show her presence.

<As I had written previously in my reply, I don’t know much about it either.> Shigemori’s voice weakened.

“But you’ve met her before, right?”

“What was the woman like?”

“Did you manage to exchange words with her?”

“Is that so...”

Makoto had been hoping for clues to find Sayama’s lover, but it seemed to be difficult to find any leads from Shigemori’s story.

Yet, after hearing the story, something bothered Makoto’s thoughts.

“Where did Sayama-san first meet that woman?”

At that point, Shigemori’s words turned vague.

“But what?”

Makoto understood what Shigemori was trying to say.

That was how conversations typically went. Whilst talking, people tended to just follow the flow of dialogue, and wouldn’t realise something was off until the conversation had ended.

“When did Sayama-san start dating that woman?”

“Is that so…”

As they had already lived together, Makoto thought that they had been in the relationship for much longer. But based on Shigemori’s story, apparently Sayama had only been dating for a month.

Could one’s relationship really develop to the point of living together within such a short timespan?

With Makoto’s own life values as a measurement, such a thing would be impossible. But that didn’t mean there didn’t exist any couple who lived together since their first meeting. In fact, some decided on marriage almost immediately.

Sayama might have also felt something that compelled him to live with his lover.

<Sorry, my story isn’t of much help.>

“Not at all. I got to know a lot of things.”

<Is that so? No matter what, I can’t believe that Sayama killed himself. Mako-chan, please find out the truth,> pressed Shigemori.

“I will do my best,” answered Makoto, ending the call.

Makoto cupped her face with both palms and leaned against the chair.

This chain of cases had gone in an unexpected direction, starting from the spiritual phenomena at the apartment, Gotou’s accident, Nao’s disappearance, now further complicated by Sayama’s death.

The investigation might have been progressing, but unexpected pieces of information were revealed one after another, from the strange phenomena during the construction of the shopping mall on that land, to the children who died in a fire at the orphanage even further back in time.

Makoto began to feel as if there were no exit to this labyrinth of mystery.

“You seem occupied,” someone said to her.

Makoto quickly lifted her face and saw Yamashina standing there. Next to him was an old man around the same age as him.

He must be Yamashina’s older brother. Their faces look alike.

“Apologies. I was deep in thought… Please have a seat,” Makoto adjusted her posture and ushered the two to sit.

She exchanged name cards with Yamashina’s brother along with a simple greeting. On his name card was the name of a middle-sized construction company and the name Yamashina Hideyuki.

“Thank you for coming all the way here,” said Makoto.

“No need to thank me like that,” said Hideyuki cheerfully. “So, you’d like to hear about a ghost story?”

Hideyuki began the conversation.

“Yes.”

“Even so, you’re quite the interesting fellow, to be interested in a ghost story from nearly forty years ago,” Hideyuki loudly laughed.

“That’s true,” replied Makoto with a friendly smile. “So, what was the incident like?”

“There were all sorts of incidents—” mumbled Hideyuki. His face quickly turned serious.

“What kinds exactly?”

“At that time, I was responsible for working on the building’s foundation, and the machinery kept breaking down.”

“Breaking?”

“Yes. For example, the motors would refuse to start, some malfunctions would occur, things of that nature. But whenever inspected, no abnormalities were found on the machines.”

“That is indeed strange.”

“Yes. Then, some said that it might have been the work of the ghosts of the children who had died during the fire at the orphanage...”

“I see.” When something unexplainable happened, it wasn’t strange for people to say such things.

“Nobody believed that at the time, though. But due to such working conditions, the construction progress became delayed and we had to work nights.”

In the present, construction work using heavy machinery during nighttime would have caused an uproar due to the potential disturbance to the neighbourhood. Back then, however, the regulations hadn’t been as clear as they were now.

“And then?” Makoto pressed further.

“Until one day, as I was about to head home after my nighttime work, I heard the sound of children’s laughter. ”

“Children?”

“I didn’t believe in ghosts then, so I assumed a child from the neighbourhood had snuck in. I thought that it would’ve been dangerous if they were to get injured at the construction site, so I went to follow the sound...” Hideyuki then stopped talking and stared at Makoto.

His gloomy eyes made his cheerful self from earlier felt like an illusion. Fear grew within Makoto at the sight of those eyes.

“Then…I saw children playing near the prefabricated building used as a resting station. And it wasn’t just one or two of them. Lots of them. With just one look I could tell that they weren’t living humans. I immediately screamed and passed out...” Hideyuki quickly continued.

A group of ghost children playing about—Makoto’s throat dried up at the thought and she gulped in response.

It wasn’t surprising that Hideyuki had passed out from fear.

After a moment of silence, Makoto tried her best to let her voice out to ask, “What happened afterwards?”

“The next day, my coworker found me lying down over there. No one believed my story at first. But some time after, a few other workers also experienced the same incident.”

“Did you ever report it to the company?”

“I did report it. But they ignored me. After all, our work would be finished not long after, and we wouldn’t have to go there ever again.”

“I see...”

“Apparently though, the same things happened when the construction above ground was being worked on.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. All the workers grew fearful and the construction was delayed as a result. Even after the shopping mall was opened, there were neverending rumours of visitors or employees who saw a ghost child at restrooms and such.”

From Hideyuki’s story, the spiritual phenomena that had happened forty years ago and the ones that took place at the apartment appeared to be alike.

In other words, the spiritual phenomena at the apartment didn’t just happen recently, but had been happening for forty years.

If that were the case, something was off.

“Did such incidents also happen during the construction of the apartment?” asked Makoto to Yamashina.

Yamashina seemed to have expected that this question would arise. He didn’t look surprised at all and nodded his head slightly.

“I had the same concern, so I decided to check with the company who handled the construction, and confirmed that similar incidents did occur.”

So it was true.

There was no doubt about it. The cause behind the spiritual phenomena at the apartment was none other than the children who had died in the fire at the orphanage.

With that said, the case had become troublesome.

If Nao had been possessed by the ghost of a child who had died forty years prior, where, and what would she be doing now?

Even if they managed to find Nao, how would they be able to save her?

Makoto didn’t have a single idea about it.

“From what I heard, the shopping mall went bankrupt as they couldn’t get enough visitors because of the ghost rumour spreading around,” Hideyuki ended his story.

That was likely to be the case. Not to mention the additional cost of demolition, it wasn’t a surprise that the building had been abandoned to fall into ruins instead.

“Thank you. Your story helped a lot,” Makoto politely thanked the two.

The two of them stood up, about to leave. However, Yamashina suddenly remembered something. He took out an envelope from his bag and placed it on the table.

“Here. The copy of the document you requested. They are going to make a fuss since it’s personal information and all, so please use it well,” said Yamashina carefully.

He must have brought it out of his office in secret.

“Thank you so much,” Makoto thanked them once again.

After the two left, Makoto stared at the document on the table. The document felt like a Pandora's box that shouldn’t be opened.

His right arm hurt really badly—

No, it wasn’t just that. His back and waist felt painful as well, like his bones were being ground against.

He thought his body had gotten used to pain, but the pain he felt now was so great that he wanted to scream.

“Ugh...” Gotou groaned.

Upon opening his eyelids, bright light from the fluorescent lights shone against his eyes.

Where is this?

His neck was the only thing he could move with great effort. Gotou then looked at his surroundings. The place seemed to be a hospital. He was lying on the bed, the tube of an IV drip embedded in his arm. He could also hear the beeping sound of the vital signs monitor.

He tried to lift his body, but was hindered by the pain. On top of that, his body felt so heavy that he became helpless.

“Hey! Don’t move!”

He heard a familiar voice.

Gotou turned to see Atsuko standing next to the bed, staring at him with disbelief.

“I…”

“Goodness… Don’t cause a commotion again like last time. You nearly died.”

Atsuko’s scolding triggered the return of Gotou’s memories.

Gotou had forced himself to get up from the bed to look for someone. That’s right. He had been looking for Nao.

He had been chasing Nao, who had run away from home, and had gotten into an accident.

“Nao! Where is Nao?” yelled Gotou.

Atsuko’s face turned glum.

Why are you making that face?

Despite not hearing anything from her, Gotou began to imagine the worst possible outcome.

“Nao hasn’t been found,” said Atsuko hoarsely.

Gotou felt relieved as it wasn’t the worst scenario that he had previously assumed. Even so, he couldn’t be at ease yet.

Nao’s whereabouts were still unknown.

“Nao...”

Gotou tried to force his body to get up, but Atsuko stopped him.

“Cut it out. Your body isn’t capable of moving yet,” she said.

“Let go…I have to look for Nao...”

“What can you even do with a body like that?” yelled Atsuko, making Gotou freeze.

He knew. He wouldn’t be able to look for Nao with the current state of his body that could barely move from pain. Despite that—

“I…have to look for Nao...”

“Don’t worry. Right now, everyone is trying their best to look for her.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes. Ishii-san, Makoto-san, Eishin-san, Haruka-chan. And, Yakumo-kun as well...” said Atsuko with a pleading tone.

I see.

Gotou was worried as Nao hadn’t been found, but he was overjoyed at the news that everyone was working hard to find Nao.

Excluding Ishii, who was a police officer, and Eishin, who had started everything in the first place, it wasn’t Makoto nor Haruka’s duty to look for her. And yet, they tried to do their part for Nao’s sake.

Their feelings moved Gotou’s heart.

While he was thankful for their efforts, Gotou still couldn’t rest easy.

“Still, I...”

“Stop it. Don’t let all of their kindness go to waste.”

“But...”

“Yakumo-kun left a message for you.”

A message?

Hearing those words, Gotou’s clouded memories quickly cleared up.

When his consciousness had been drifting between dreams and reality, Gotou had seen a shadow standing in front of his eyes. Perhaps that shadow had been Yakumo.

“What did Yakumo say?”

“I’ll definitely find Nao. So, bears should just hibernate in peace…that’s what he said,” said Atsuko whilst doing an impression of Yakumo’s voice.

Gotou spontaneously laughed.

As expected of Yakumo.

When Gotou had first come to discuss the spiritual phenomenon, and when he had requested his assistance because of Nao’s strange constitution, Yakumo had refused on the basis of his left eye being unable to see.

Having lost the ability to see the things he had always been able to see, Yakumo had lost his confidence. That was what Gotou had felt.

And yet, the message from Yakumo that Atsuko had passed earlier signified that Yakumo had gotten better.

Gotou didn’t know what had happened, but if Yakumo himself said definitely, perhaps he really could rest assured.

Yakumo was someone who kept his word.

That was why, Yakumo wouldn’t say anything when he was still not confident or unsure.

I can leave her to you, right? Gotou asked Yakumo, who was currently elsewhere.

There was no answer. Even so, Gotou’s anxiousness began to subside.

“That’s true...” mumbled Gotou, closing his eyes.

Eishin paid a visit to a home at the outskirts of the city.

The building was one story tall with roof tiles. It appeared to have stood there for a long time, but the land was spacious.

After gathering information from some of the families supporting the temple and following the stories of various others, he ended up here.

To tell the truth, the place was difficult for Eishin to locate. The current relationship between the temples and the families supporting them was different from how it used to be a long time ago. It may have been partly due to the fact that temples were now primarily only needed for funeral processions.

Despite that, unlike what Eishin had thought, the families’ network was really good. Word got around fairly quickly and before he knew it, they were able to find the person who used to live at the Michishirube orphanage.

They were even kind enough to offer a meetup with Eishin.

“Truly not to be underestimated,” said Eishin, mocking himself whilst pressing on the intercom.

“Yes,” A voice then answered from inside, and the sliding door opened to reveal a woman in her fifties.

Her face was chubby and appeared friendly.

This woman must be Tokue.

“My name is Eishin,” said Eishin introducing himself.

“Please come in,” Tokue ushered him inside.

Eishin went inside, taking off his sandals at the foyer before being led to a room on the side of the corridor that appeared to be the living room.

It was a Japanese-style room with the size of around eight tatami. Despite being an old building, it was clean and tidy.

Perhaps Tokue was a diligent person.

Eishin reluctantly said, “There’s no need to trouble yourself,” but Tokue left shortly and returned with a tray containing tea and some snacks.

“Thank you.” Although he felt bad for troubling her, Eishin took a sip of his tea.

Tokue sat across from Eishin and once the two of them had settled down, Eishin began to bring up the main topic.

“I came over today to ask a few questions about the past,” said Eishin.

Tokue nodded as if she had known. “Yes. I have heard. About Michishirube, yes?”

Tokue’s face appeared slightly gloomy.

This woman had also grown up in an orphanage. For whatever reason, she had had to live away from her parents.

Such wasn’t a regular experience.

She might have appeared tough now, but many things must have crossed her mind.

“Since when were you at Michishirube?”

“When I was six years old, my parents left me and disappeared… I began living in Michishirube afterwards.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yes. Apparently they had gotten into debt, but I don’t know the details.” Tokue shook her head listlessly.

This must have been the reason behind her gloomy expression.

Parents abandoning their children. The news had reported an increase in such cases in recent times, but that wasn’t true.

Such cases had existed in just about any era.

“I see. You must have been through a lot.”

“Well, more or less so…” Tokue laughed bitterly.

Eishin wanted to ask further about Tokue’s life up until now, but he didn’t have the time to hear a long story like that for the time being.

There was a lot he had to do still.

“Were you at Michishirube when the fire happened?”

“Yes. As far as I recall, it happened when I was ten years old.”

“I heard ten children died in that fire...”

“Yes.” Tokue held her own body, trembling.

The incident must have been engraved into her mind as a terrifying memory. Not only did she have no parents, she had even lost her friends. The trauma she had suffered must have been immeasurable.

“It must be hard for you, but could you please try to describe the event in detail?”

Tokue nodded, took a sip of her tea, and placed her hand on her chest to calm herself down before saying, “The fire happened at midnight. I was sleeping, and I heard someone yell that there was a fire. I woke up because of that. By then, my surroundings were already covered in smoke...” Tokue was at a loss for words afterwards.

As she described the devastating incident that happened a long time ago, Eishin who had been listening to her couldn’t help but feel sad as well.

Even so, he had to find out what happened next.

He didn’t know how the story was related to the current case, but since it was Yakumo’s request, there had to be something about it.

“So you managed to escape?”

“Yes. The girl whom I had been roommates with pulled my arm…so I managed to get out.”

“You were lucky.”

“But, the other friends didn’t survive...” Tokue sighed, slumping her shoulders.

As if she was embarrassed for being able to survive.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to experience a similar feeling whenever there was an incident that claimed many lives. They would blame themselves out of guilt towards others who didn’t make it.

“Tokue-san, you didn’t do anything wrong. No one will blame you for feeling relieved for being able to survive,” said Eishin as he placed a hand on Tokue’s shoulder.

Tokue nodded. Despite that, Eishin wasn’t convinced whether she had actually accepted it. Human emotions couldn’t be cast away as easily as that.

As someone who practised Buddhism, Eishin knew it wasn’t good for him to think of these things. But not even Buddha could heal the wounds of a human heart so easily.

“So, did you know the cause of the fire?”

According to the article that Makoto found, it was likely that the fire had been started by children who had been playing with fire.

However, Eishin felt something was off about that statement.

While he hadn’t said it out loud, Yakumo had probably felt off about something as well.

“As the source was deemed to be children playing with fire, it had caused a public uproar, but I don’t think that was true. Someone had started the fire on purpose.”

“Goodness!” Eishin exclaimed without realising.

He had been wondering about the cause of the fire, but wouldn't have guessed that the idea that the fire had been intentional would surface.

“Was there a reason for you to think that the fire might have been intentional?” asked Eishin once he had composed himself.

“Because we were frequently disturbed…”

“Disturbed?”

“Yes. The windows often got smashed, the buildings vandalised, that sort of thing.”

“It wasn’t done by the children from Michishirube?”

“It wasn’t,” Tokue vehemently denied.

“Do you have a basis for that?” asked Eishin.

There didn’t seem to be any certainty. Eishin couldn’t jump into conclusions now, but this could have been what was called persecutory delusions.

It was possible that her regret from the fire incident led Tokue to believe that an outsider had put them in danger.

Even if that were the case, there was no point for Eishin to try and clarify that now.

“What happened after the Michishirube fire?” Eishin asked a different question.

“We were split up and transferred to different orphanages...” said Tokue with a tense expression.

It seemed that her life at the new orphanage hadn’t been too pleasant either.

“You must have been sad having to part ways with the other children.”

“Yes...but I managed to overcome all that and continue on living up till now...” said Tokue while staring at the distance.

Eishin knew Tokue’s heart had to be tired from remembering many unpleasant things. The man wanted to go home soon, but there was one last thing he had to confirm.

Eishin turned to Tokue once again.

Haruka and Yakumo returned to the Movie Research Circle clubroom to meet with Ishii.

As they opened the door, Ishii had been waiting there.

“Yakumo-shi, Haruka-chan,” greeted Ishii as he stood up.

“Apologies for the wait,” said Yakumo, who then sat on his usual chair.

Haruka felt a change in Yakumo at the sight of it.

She had seen Yakumo apologise several times, but his apology had always felt expressionless, as if he merely mouthed the words out.

Yet now, she could clearly feel that Yakumo’s words toward Ishii had been filled with apology and gratitude as Ishii had come all the way here.

If asked, however, Yakumo would probably have said ‘I didn’t change’ ....

“Why are you spacing out?” asked Yakumo to Haruka, who had been standing still.

“Ah, it’s nothing...”

“You’re probably just thinking about food. The case won’t be solved just by gluttony.”

“T-that’s not it!”

And here she was just thinking that Yakumo had changed.

Halfway in disbelief, Haruka sat down on a chair.

“Here is the document you asked for in the call,” said Ishii as he handed over a document.

Yakumo accepted it and began reading it carefully.

“What document is it?” asked Haruka to Ishii.

“The list of names of the children registered in the orphanage that burned down.”

“List of names...?”

“Yes. It’s called a list of names, but the details of how they came to live at the orphanage are also recorded here.”

“Such a document exists, huh?”

“Yes. While there are also privately owned orphanages, the right to register the children falls upon the local prefecture, and the one who decides upon it is the head of the Centre of Child Consultation.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s a rare case nowadays, but in the past there have been children whose identities and how they ended up in an orphanage were unknown. When that happened, the mayor would be the one to give them a name.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Apparently orphanages had many procedures in place.

Whether Ishii had known from the start or had discovered that fact during the investigation, Haruka was still impressed at his knowledge.

“Found it,” Yakumo suddenly exclaimed.

“Eh?” blurted Haruka and Ishii, before turning to Yakumo.

Still staring at the document, Yakumo’s lips curved into a thin smile, as if he had discovered the root cause behind all these incidents.

“Found…what?” asked Ishii reluctantly.

“I found the identity of the ghost possessing Nao,” said Yakumo, brimming with confidence whilst pointing at the list of names.

The name Akira was written there.

Haruka didn’t know how Yakumo was certain that this was the person in question. But since Yakumo had pointed at a name from the orphanage’s list of names, then the ghost possessing Nao had to be one of the children who had died in the fire.

“Then, what should we do next?” asked Ishii to Yakumo.

“Before that, there was something else that you had discovered, right? Please tell me,” Yakumo replied with another question.

“Ah, that’s right,” said Ishii, taking out a memo and talking as he read through it. “I haven’t found out much, though…” he started, before explaining how Hata had doubted that Sayama had committed suicide.

“I agree with that,” mumbled Yakumo once Ishii finished his explanation.

If the man called Sayama hadn't committed suicide and there was a possibility that he had been murdered, who could possibly have killed him, and for what reason?

Even if she wouldn’t reach an answer just by thinking about it, Haruka couldn’t get rid of the thought.

Maybe it was the final words Sayama had left to Makoto before he had died that had been the key. “It wasn’t a spiritual phenomenon or anything like that—”

However, Haruka had just experienced for herself the spiritual phenomena at the apartment. The incident had been significant enough not to be treated as mere misunderstanding.

“So, after this…” Ishii yet again requested for further instructions.

Yakumo stopped him and took his phone out of his pocket.

Apparently someone was calling him.

Yakumo picked up the call and began discussing something. Haruka didn’t know the details of the conversation, but based on the voice she heard, the call seemed to be from Makoto.

“In that case, I’ll leave it to you—”

After a brief conversation, Yakumo gave a number of instructions before ending the call.

“Anyway, regarding what we should do next…” said Yakumo, turning back to face Ishii.

“Yes.”

“Actually, I’d like Ishii-san to help me find someone.”

“You want me to find someone within that list of names?” Ishii pointed at the document on Yakumo’s hand. He then pointed at the name of the child that Yakumo had claimed to have possessed Nao.

“There’s no need for that,” denied Yakumo immediately.

“No need?” Ishii frowned in confusion.

“There’s no use in looking.”

“Why?”

“This person is now possessing Nao. In other words, the person is already dead.”

Putting it that way, he was right. If the person was possessing Nao as a ghost, then the person was no longer alive. They wouldn’t be able to find that person even if they tried.

“In that case, who are you looking for?” asked Ishii once more, which made Yakumo grin in satisfaction.

From the looks of it, Yakumo seemed to have discovered the truth amidst the confusing situation.

Yakumo spoke the name of the person he was searching for. Ishii jotted it down and quickly left the room.

“Then, what about us?” asked Haruka once the two of them were the only ones left.

“That’s right…. I got a message from Atsuko-san earlier.”

“Atsuko-san?”

“Yes. She said that Gotou-san had regained consciousness and that his condition had stabilised.”

“That’s a relief...” said Haruka sincerely.

Ever since she had received the call that Gotou had gotten into an accident, the worst possible situation had repeatedly crossed her mind and her heart was crushed by her anxiousness.

Since Gotou’s condition had improved, all that was left was to find Nao.

After Haruka had renewed her own feelings, Yakumo suddenly said something unexpected.

“That’s why, let’s go and visit Gotou-san,” said Yakumo as he stood up.

“Eh? You’re serious?” Haruka spontaneously exclaimed.

“What? Aren’t you worried about Gotou-san?”

“Of course I am worried. But, we have to look for Nao-chan.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“What are you talking about?”

Could it be that he had given up on looking for Nao?

If that were the case, there was no point in requesting Ishii and Makoto’s help. Besides, there was no guarantee that Nao was alright.

“If my speculation was correct, she’s going to show herself without the need to look for her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I meant just as I said,” replied Yakumo as if it was obvious. Haruka didn’t understand at all.

Even so, as they have come this far, she could only agree with Yakumo.

“Alright,” said Haruka, who also got up from her chair–

After she finished her call with Yakumo, Makoto let out a long sigh.

She had just examined the contents of the envelope given by Yamashina upon returning to her office from the family restaurant.

Just as she had suspected, the envelope was like Pandora's box.

If only she could find the beacon of hope whilst escaping a series of calamities, just like in mythological stories. However, there were no signs of such a thing thus far.

Makoto’s mind was shrouded in darkness and confusion.

Despite that, something bothered her.

When she had stated this important piece of fact to Yakumo, he simply responded, ’so that really was the case—’ as if he had known about it all along.

He could’ve just been doing it to impress, but Yakumo wouldn’t have done such a thing.

In other words, Yakumo likely had predicted all of this information. He might have gotten the bigger picture, and had in turn requested for Makoto to investigate.

Makoto was curious about a number of things, but now wasn’t the time to sit around. There were still things left to look into.

Yakumo had requested for more assistance just now.

Firstly, to send a photo to someone. Although the request had come from Yakumo, Makoto had the same speculation after reading the documents from Yamashina.

Makoto opened the file from the computer, putting the photo in full view of the monitor.

She shivered at the sight of the face displayed on the monitor.

Hopefully we are mistaken, she wished.

With trembling hands, Makoto attached the photo to an email, typing a message before finally sending it out.

It would get a reply for certain.

Next, she had to investigate an orphanage. Not the one that had burned down, but a different one called Kazaoto.

Yakumo had never elaborated on why she had to look into this orphanage, but Makoto had a few ideas of her own.

After Michishirube had burned down to the ground, the children who had managed to survive had been transferred to other orphanages.

This orphanage might have been one of them.

Makoto opened the browser in her computer and tried to search for the keyword kazaoto orphanage.

She quickly found some relevant information.

Apparently, the orphanage had been located in Kanagawa, and had since closed down. Makoto couldn’t believe her eyes upon reading the reason behind its closure.

“This...”

Child abuse by the orphanage staff had taken place for a prolonged period of time at Kazaoto orphanage. The orphanage had to be closed down once the truth had come to light.

Unfortunately, the website she was on didn't provide any further information.

It wasn’t surprising as the incident had been made public over thirty five years ago. Back then, news sites and the like hadn’t existed yet.

However, if it had been an incident, the newspaper company Makoto worked at might have an article about it as well. If the journalist who had covered the story was still alive, she might be able to ask about it directly.

Makoto immediately sprinted to the data room.

She searched around on the computer. It was just as she had thought. She then clicked on a few articles.

A-san, who used to live at Kazaoto orphanage, reported the abuse that took place at the orphanage to the Kanagawa prefecture police…

“Goodness...”

Makoto felt sick reading the contents of the article.

The children at the orphanage had been in a situation where they had no other choice but to live without their parents.

They had to have gone through more hardships compared to other children.

Not to mention that they had nowhere else to go. Taking advantage of that situation to abuse them for one’s own satisfaction would simply be a brutal thing to do.

It wasn’t a crime that could be forgiven by merely punishing them with the law.

Makoto felt like closing her eyes, but that would have been the same as running away.

As she examined the details, she discovered that the article had been written by a journalist named Takabe. Takabe had retired due to old age, but was now hired doing contract work.

Makoto searched the list of contact numbers on one side of the table and found Takabe’s name. She promptly reached for the handle of the office phone and dialled the number.

After a brief dial tone, Takabe picked up the call. <Takabe here.>

His manner of speech was slow and peculiar, but since he had even been reemployed, his work had to be sharp.

“I’m Hijikata from the culture department,” said Makoto.

Takabe quickly exclaimed, <Oh, the daughter of the ex police chief?>

He seemed to know about Makoto.

“Please don’t address me that way. My father is no longer in the police force.”

She ended up remembering some unpleasant things.

<That’s why I used the word ‘ex’, though.>

“Well, that’s true...”

<So, what’s the matter? Since you’re calling from the data room, you’re probably getting yourself involved in matters outside your scope of work again.>

He probably knew Makoto was in the data room based on the incoming call number.

“What do you mean, again?”

<It’s common gossip at the office that you like to poke your head around cases that has nothing to do with you.>

“Eh?”

“What are you saying?”

<I’m saying that you’re more well known than you think.>

“Oh...”

Even when told such a thing, Makoto had no idea how to deal with it.

Perhaps all this time, her coworkers had been uncomfortable around her, and she was the one who had never noticed.

<Well, anyway. Putting that aside, what did you want to ask?> said Takabe.

He was right. No use in worrying about what other people thought about her now.

“I’d like to ask you about an article from thirty five years ago.”

<That’s pretty far back.>

“Yes. About the Kazaoto orphanage...” Makoto could instantly feel as Takabe held his breath on the other side of the phone.

<That case was rather unpleasant...> he mumbled.

“I heard there were incidents of child abuse…?”

<That’s right. Not to mention it had been going on for over ten years. I could somewhat understand had it been a sole perpetrator, but we’re talking multiple staff abusing children together.>

“How cruel…”

Since multiple staff were involved, the children must have had nowhere to escape.

“Goodness...”

Makoto gripped the phone handle tightly.

Had those abusers stood right in front of her eyes then and there, she wasn’t confident she’d be able to keep herself together. That was how angry she felt.

“Truly unforgivable...” commented Makoto with great effort.

“I see...”

<Then, I wasn’t able to include this in the article, but something strange happened after.>

“Something strange?”

<Yes. Three staff that were involved in the abuse eventually died one by one.>

“Eh?” exclaimed Makoto in a high pitched tone. “Died? How so?”

“That’s...” said Makoto, swallowing her next words.

There was a possibility that the children who had been abused had sought revenge on them.

Takabe sighed as if he could read what Makoto was thinking.

“Did you look into it?”

<Yes. But I wasn’t able to find a connection between their deaths. The police eventually reached the same conclusion and closed the case just like that.>

“So that was the case…Thank you, your story was a lot of help.”

Even after ending the call, Makoto remained enveloped in anguish.

Since the police had reached the same conclusion, their deaths might have actually been mere coincidence. Yet Makoto’s heart rejected that idea.

There had to be something behind them—whilst thinking that, Makoto received a message from Shigemori regarding the photo she had wanted to clarify with him.

That was the contents of Shigemori’s message.

Unexpectedly, Yakumo’s prediction seemed to have missed its mark.

Gotou turned towards the window.

He could see the usual city scenery from it. Even so, his chest felt crushed at the thought of Nao being out there, somewhere. He was fighting hard against the urge to leave right there and now.

Gotou, who wasn’t good at thinking, held the principle of taking action first before using his brain. For that reason, he made a great team with Yakumo, who had the brains but struggled to take action. It was the same with Ishii.

It felt ridiculous for Gotou, who could only prove himself by making a move, to be in his current state.

His frustration towards himself grew uncontrollably.

“Your injuries look rather horrible—”

Gotou turned to the source of the sudden voice, and found Yakumo and Haruka standing at the entrance of his hospital room.

“Yeah. I can’t move in this condition.”

His right shoulder and left leg was broken, his back was bruised, and his hip bone was fractured. He had also gotten a concussion and there were lacerations in multiple places over his body.

The doctor said that an average person would have died by now and was impressed by the sturdiness of Gotou’s body.

Despite that, it was no use if he couldn’t even move amidst the urgent situation.

“Sounds like a good opportunity. How about reading a book for a change? If you know how to read, that is,” Yakumo chuckled lightly.

“Shut up!” yelled Gotou, who instantly felt a jolt of pain across his body.

His condition was really pitiful; he couldn’t even yell.

“Well, you’ll need to stay still for a while,” said Yakumo.

However, Gotou couldn’t just do as he said. “Nao…I have to find Nao...”

The moment Gotou said so, Yakumo shook his head. “Did you not hear the message I passed to Atsuko-san?”

I heard.

The message from Yakumo. A message that had stated that he would definitely find Nao.

“In that case, how could you come over here so nonchalantly?”

He hadn’t heard any news that Nao had been found. Yakumo shouldn’t have the free time to pay Gotou a visit.

“No need to be angry like that.”

“Of course I am angry. Nao’s life is in danger!”

“I know. But rest assured. I have cracked most of the mystery. All that is left is how am I planning to face it—” said Yakumo as if it was common sense. Gotou still didn’t understand.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you’ll understand eventually. For now, you should peacefully rest up, Gotou-san.”

“That’s why...”

“If you were to force yourself to move now, you won’t be able to move when it’s absolutely necessary,” said Yakumo with a grin.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I might need your help later, Gotou-san. Well, only if you’re willing.”

There was no need for contemplation. His answer was clear.

Gotou was being treated at the hospital and couldn’t move freely, but if there was something he could do, he would do whatever it is.

“Of course. I won’t be satisfied until I beat up the person behind all of this.”

“That’s relieving to hear—” said Yakumo as his cellphone rang.

“Hey, Yakumo-kun. We’re in a hospital,” scolded Haruka.

“I know,” answered Yakumo, who nodded at Gotou before saying, “See you later,” before leaving the room.

“Please don’t push yourself too hard,” Haruka said to Gotou before chasing after Yakumo.

Gotou wanted to go after them too. But as Yakumo had said, there was no use forcing himself to move now and rendering himself incapable of doing so when needed.

Gotou leaned back against the bed and sighed whilst suppressing his annoyance.

When Ishii stopped his car in front of the hospital Gotou was in, Yakumo and Haruka had been waiting for him.

The person Yakumo had been looking for had been easier to find than he had thought, so he contacted Yakumo soon afterwards.

His call had been left unanswered, but Yakumo had promptly called him back and once Ishii had explained the situation to him, Yakumo immediately expressed that he wanted to meet this person.

As a result, Ishii came to pick them up with his car.

“Sorry for the trouble again, Ishii-san,” said Yakumo as he sat in the backseat alongside Haruka.

Seeing them side-by-side like this, they looked like a couple. Ishii felt strange as he had never viewed them in such a manner before.

No, that wasn’t it. His heart used to be riddled with anxiety at the sight of the two next to each other.

Now, it felt more like watching a little sister with her partner.

“Are we really heading there?” Ishii asked Yakumo once he got rid of the strange sentimental feeling in his mind.

“I’ll be counting on you.”

“Alright,” answered Ishii, starting the car.

“Why do you want to meet this person?” questioned Ishii as he glanced at Yakumo through the rearview mirror.

The person Yakumo had requested him to find was Kazue, wife of Hirosawa Shozo, who had been the headmaster in charge of running the Michishirube orphanage.

Kazue now resided in the Institute of Elderly Welfare.

The orphanage that she had been managing had burned down, taking the lives of ten children. On top of that, her husband—Shozo—had died from hanging as if responsible for the incident.

Forty years after the event, how did Kazue feel now? Furthermore, what did it have to do with the current case?

Ishii couldn’t find an answer for those two questions.

“We won’t be able to solve this case without her,” answered Yakumo firmly.

What could be the reason behind Yakumo’s words? Ishii tried to think about it, but he still couldn’t understand. In that case, he could only leave the rest to Yakumo.

Ishii grew quiet and drove the car.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the Institute of Elderly Welfare, where Kazue was.

Ishii stepped out of the car, thinking that they would be entering the place together, but Yakumo stopped him.

“Sorry, but I’m going to meet Kazue-san alone,” said Yakumo with a stiff expression.

“Why?” blurted Haruka in surprise as she had also thought she would be going in with Yakumo.

“She may refuse to open her mouth if we were to meet her as a group. If I’m by myself, she will certainly speak up.”

Yakumo had a point. She might put her guard up if there were a large number of people seeing her at once. However, a group of three people wasn’t that large.

Besides, whatever it was that Yakumo wanted to find out from Kazue, Ishii felt that his role as a police officer, and Haruka as fellow woman would put them at an advantage.

As Ishii expressed that fact, Yakumo’s face frowned into a complicated expression.

“Fine. I’ll tell the truth. This is something that I have to face alone.”

Yakumo’s explanation only confused Ishii even more.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly as I said. I wanted to ask Kazue-san about someone’s past. To recover my left eyesight, I have to face the truth by myself,” said Yakumo firmly.

Ishii still didn’t understand.

However, Haruka seemed to have a different reaction.

“Alright then. I’ll wait for you here,” she replied.

Satisfied with Haruka’s response, Yakumo nodded before walking away.

“Did you get what Yakumo-shi is planning to do?” Ishii asked Haruka as they watched Yakumo walk into the front entrance.

“Not at all,” Haruka added with a smile.

“You let him go all by himself despite that?”

“Yes.”

“But, if that’s how it is...”

“Yakumo-kun said that this is for the sake of recovering his left eyesight.”

“Right. He did say that.”

Those words did nothing to make Ishii understand. He couldn’t fathom how listening to Kazue’s story could contribute to Yakumo’s recovery.

“Yakumo-kun must be in the middle of trying to accept his own existence,” said Haruka gladly. Ishii couldn’t understand yet again.

The only thing he knew was that Haruka wholeheartedly placed her trust in Yakumo.

“You’re putting your trust in him…” said Ishii.

Haruka nodded firmly as if it was only natural for her to.

It made Ishii realise how much Haruka liked Yakumo from the bottom of her heart. There was no place for Ishii there from the start.

Haruka and Yakumo were bound by such a deep mutual trust.

“It makes me jealous.”

Words came out of Ishii’s mouth without him realising.

“Eh?” Haruka tilted her head.

“I mean...to be able to like someone to such lengths is an impressive feat.”

“No, it’s not like that...” said Haruka, looking down with a flushed face.

Her expression was more adorable than anything Ishii had ever seen Haruka made before. Even so, he knew it wasn’t directed at him.

Back then, this would have hurt Ishii’s feelings, but now he could watch over it with a smile. The whole ordeal made him feel bizarre.

“Enough about me. Rather, how are Ishii-san and Makoto-san doing?”

Out of nowhere, Haruka asked an unexpected question.

“Eh?”

“I’m saying, are you and Makoto-san dating now?”

“Th-there’s no way,” Ishii denied in a hurry.

His forehead suddenly grew sweaty for some reason.

“Is that so? The two of you looked like you were getting along really well recently, so I thought it was official.”

“N-no…that…would only trouble Makoto-san,” said Ishii, wiping the sweat on his forehead.

“Eh? Why?”

“Why…? There’s no way someone like me would suit a remarkable woman like Makoto-san.”

“This isn’t a matter of suitability, rather, how does Ishii-san feel?”

“No, I...”

“Ishii-san, what do you think about Makoto-san?”

“I…”

What do I think?

During the last case, Ishii had realised how much Makoto meant to him as a person.

But, he suspected that his feelings were slightly different from love.

He felt comfortable around Makoto and was always happy to talk to her. Back then, he might have been afraid of her, but now Makoto was among the few people of the opposite gender that he could converse with without feeling nervous.

“How would you feel if Makoto-san were to date someone else?”

Haruka threw an unexpected question that horrified Ishii for some reason.

“There’s no way!” he reflexively exclaimed.

“Why?”

“Why...? Well, as to why...”

Ishii couldn’t explain the reason. It was simply that he felt immediate rejection at the idea of Makoto enjoying herself with another man.

“So it’s true, you really do like Makoto-san—” said Haruka, filled with emotion.

Those words echoed repeatedly within Ishii’s heart.

Haruka stared at the building entrance intensely whilst leaning against the car.

Earlier, she had nodded when Ishii had asked if she trusted Yakumo, but she would be lying to say that she wasn't worried.

Having watched Yakumo go past that entrance with a firm resolution, Haruka grew annoyed at herself for only being able to stand back and wait.

She turned to Ishii’s direction, who was speaking in a call a few distance away. He had to be in the middle of gathering more information about the case.

Haruka sighed and looked at the sky. Line-shaped clouds floated across the dim sky as night approached. Soon enough those clouds would be swallowed by darkness.

She grew increasingly anxious at the thought.

Yakumo-kun, you’re coming back, right? Haruka asked within her heart.

Yakumo had only left to ask for information. He would definitely return. So Haruka’s request wasn’t about that.

Even if his body was physically fine, it would be pointless if his heart wasn’t as well.

Haruka was glad that Yakumo was willing to face his red left eye. However, it would come at a great deal of mental pressure for him.

He might not be showing it, but Yakumo must have been suffering even now.

In other words, he was still mentally unwell. Haruka couldn’t say for certain that Yakumo wouldn’t be consumed by the darkness in such a state.

All her worries made her feel that she should’ve tagged along with Yakumo, but she chose to keep waiting.

Perhaps this was merely her own feelings, but she believed that by trusting him and waiting, she could become Yakumo’s support. Or at least she hoped so.

The winds roared strongly.

Haruka glanced at the entrance and saw Yakumo walking out from it.

He’s back.

For a moment, Haruka was delighted, yet she soon noticed something was off and her heart froze.

Yakumo’s expression was clearly unlike how it had been prior to entering the building. It was difficult for Haruka to describe, but Yakumo seemed to be carrying a different burden from before.

“Yakumo-kun—” called Haruka. Yakumo responded with a smile. A clumsy one, as if he was forcing his face muscles to form a smile.

What happened?

She wanted to ask him, but the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth.

Perhaps because she was afraid.

Almost as if Yakumo would disappear if she were to find out what he had heard and felt.

“Ah! Yakumo-shi! How was it?” Ishii ran towards Yakumo after finishing his phone call.

“More or less, I finally got the bigger picture...” said Yakumo.

His mouth might have said so, but he didn’t sound too enthusiastic about it.

“So does that mean you’ve solved the mystery?” asked Ishii excitedly.

“Yes. From the start, this case didn’t have a lot of mysteries to it. Even so, the events that had caused the spiritual phenomenon happened way too far back, so we wasted a lot of time gathering information,” explained Yakumo effortlessly.

“I-is that so?” responded Ishii in surprise as he gestured excessively with his body.

Normally, Haruka would’ve laughed at Ishii’s antics, but right now she found herself unable to.

“Yes. Anyway, Ishii-san, you’ve discovered some new information as well, right?”

Ishii hurriedly took out a memo from his pocket. “Yes. I heard a few things from the call with Miyagawa-san earlier.”

Ishii promptly described the information he had received from Miyagawa to Yakumo.

Yakumo remained silent, listening intently to Ishii’s explanation, before sighing deeply as he watched the sky.

There had been a faint sunlight left earlier, but now the sky had turned completely dark. The line-shaped clouds from earlier had been covered in a sea of black.

After a moment of silence, Yakumo spoke up. “Thank you, I know a lot now. I think it’s about time we go pick up Nao—”

Yakumo’s tone sounded glum to Haruka.

“Pick up? How exactly?” asked Ishii.

“I’d like for us to rendezvous with Makoto-san and Eishin-san. Please pass on the message to them to gather at my room.”

“Understood,” Ishii replied excitedly before contacting them on his phone.

“Yakumo-kun—” called Haruka softly as Yakumo was about to enter the car.

“What?”

“You’re not thinking of anything funny, aren’t you?“ warned Haruka.

“Yes. I’m merely thinking about what the best plan is to save Nao.”

Yakumo’s words stabbed into Haruka’s chest.

Although she had no basis, Haruka felt an ominous premonition. Yakumo’s words were just like the sky now; no presence of light to be found.

“What are you saying…?”

“I’m really grateful to you,” said Yakumo with a smile.

His smile was filled with sadness.

“I...”

“I could only get this far because you’re with me. Thank you—” said Yakumo before getting inside the car.

Makoto hurried towards the Movie Research Circle clubroom.

The campus was dead silent during nighttime, so much that the buzzling activities during the day felt like an illusion. The stark contrast terrified her.

As she opened the door signed <Movie Research Circle>, Makoto found Yakumo sitting on his usual chair. Ishii, Haruka, and Eishin were present as well.

Since Yakumo had requested them to gather, Makoto had assumed that the mystery behind this case had been solved, so she excitedly came over. Yet, the air around the room felt suffocating.

“Sorry for troubling you to come over,” Yakumo politely bowed his head.

Makoto thought that Yakumo’s optimism had returned thanks to Haruka, but his expression appeared listless like a corpse.

What happened?

Puzzled with questions, Makoto sat on a chair next to Ishii.

“So…you’ve solved the mystery?” Eishin opened up the conversation.

“That’s right. Although there was hardly any mystery in this case in the first place.”

“Eh?” blurted Makoto without realising.

How could there be no mystery about it? What about the cause behind the spiritual phenomenon? Nao’s whereabouts were still unknown. Not to mention Sayama’s death.

Makoto emphasised those to Yakumo, but he shook his head in response.

“No,” he replied, “I was uncertain at first as I couldn’t believe myself, but from the start there wasn’t anything you could call a mystery.”

“How is that possible?”

“I believe everyone is now aware that the cause behind the spiritual phenomena at the apartment building was a fire that took place forty years ago,” explained Yakumo as he narrowed his eyes and stared into the distance.

“So that means there are ghosts of children lurking in that building?” confirmed Ishii.

“Yes. As we have discovered through Makoto-san’s investigation, after the fire had taken place, the spiritual phenomena had occurred during the construction of the shopping mall and its business operations later on after it opened.”

“I confirmed it again afterwards. As it turns out, similar phenomena occurred during the construction of the apartment building as well.”

Prior to coming here, using the number she had obtained from Yamashina, Makoto had called a construction worker who had been involved in the construction of the apartment building to hear his story.

She had discovered that the worker had experienced similar phenomena as Yamashina’s brother.

As all the workers grew fearful, progress of the construction work had halted. One cause that had factored into the apartment’s exorbitantly high price had been the increase in construction costs from all the delays.

Makoto explained her investigation in detail, to which Yakumo nodded in satisfaction.

“This story confirmed that the children who had died in the fire had been haunting that location for the last forty years.”

“Does that mean the ghost possessing Nao was one of the children who died back then?” interrupted Haruka.

“It’s a little different, but yeah, something along those lines.”

“What do you mean…?”

Dissatisfied with Yakumo’s vague answer, Haruka wanted to ask further questions, but Yakumo stopped her.

“I’ll explain the details later. That aside, the question is, where is Nao? Furthermore, how can we save the ghosts of the children who had been lingering for forty years?” said Yakumo with a hardened expression.

“Do you have something in mind?” asked Makoto.

Yakumo let out a deep sigh. “Honestly, I don’t know anymore.”

“About what?”

“The fire forty years ago. Do you think it was really caused by children playing with fire?” asked Yakumo. Makoto fell silent.

At first, she had considered the possibility. However, upon reading the documents given by Yamashina, those thoughts had completely vanished.

“I don’t think it was...” said Makoto.

“I-it wasn’t?” Ishii added.

Apparently Ishii hadn’t heard about the fact. If he had, it would’ve shifted his line of thinking entirely.

Makoto intended to explain, but Yakumo shook his head without saying a word. He appeared to be asking Makoto not to talk about it for now.

“Ten children lost their lives all because of the greediness of a few people. Despite having to face the harsh reality of moving into an orphanage, those children had continued to live optimistically.”

Yakumo’s voice shook. Overwhelming sadness and anger spiralled together in his heart.

Even Yakumo wasn’t acting like himself as his vast emotions carried him away.

“Yakumo-kun...” Unable to ignore the state he was in, Haruka called out to Yakumo.

“Those children were innocent. Yet the culprit easily took all of their lives in the name of greed. Such an act is unforgivable,” said Yakumo, curling his fists.

If he continues to wallow in anger, this can go badly.

“But...” started Makoto.

“Would you be able to forgive him, Makoto-san?” Yakumo glared at Makoto, eyes burning with anger.

Unable to win against such pressure, Makoto couldn’t say anything more. Whatever had happened, she could feel that Yakumo’s heart was greatly shaken by it.

If this went on, would Yakumo end up being swallowed by darkness?

A long silence ensued.

Moments later, Yakumo slowly stood up.

“I’d like to request all of your help.“

Everyone’s eyes in the room turned to Yakumo.

“I will do anything to save Nao. In exchange however, I have to surrender myself.”

“Yakumo-kun, wait! What are you saying?” shouted Haruka, unable to withstand the situation.

Her reaction was understandable.

Yakumo spoke as if he was about to die.

“There’s no other way than this—”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. Anyway, once Nao is safe, please tie me up as soon as possible. I will leave the rest to all of you.”

Makoto couldn’t understand the meaning behind Yakumo’s words.

Everyone exchanged glances with confused looks on their faces.

“It may not make sense to you now, but when the time comes, I’m sure you will all understand,” said Yakumo with a chuckle.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to die?” asked Makoto, who couldn’t bear it anymore as well.

Yakumo didn’t answer and simply stood in place. Makoto felt as if his silence was the answer itself.

Makoto turned to Haruka who was now staring at Yakumo, half-flabbergasted. For Haruka’s sake, nothing should be allowed to corner Yakumo to his death.

“Whatever happens, we have to save Nao,” said Yakumo, immediately leaving the room—

“Ishii-san.” Makoto called out to Ishii, who had been sitting next to her.

“I know. We have to protect Yakumo-shi no matter what.” Unlike his usual self, Ishii’s words sounded dependable.

Despite that, restlessness emerged within Makoto. She felt that what was about to happen would turn into an unchangeable course of fate—

Yakumo looked up at the apartment building that stood out amidst the darkness. Stone covered footpath extended all the way to its entrance.

It was late, so most of the apartment lights were out and the building appeared more terrifying than it was in the daytime.

Haruka felt even more chills as Yakumo had mentioned earlier that the ghosts of the children who had died in the fire were haunting the place.

Hey, what are you thinking right now? Haruka asked Yakumo in her heart.

Whatever Yakumo had talked about with Kazue in the Institute of Elderly Welfare had caused him to behave strangely ever since.

Even now, he emitted a tragic aura akin to that of a soldier marching to his death.

Not to mention what he had said at the Movie Research Circle clubroom bothered Haruka.

Yakumo had said that in order to save Nao, he had to surrender himself in exchange—

Did he mean it in a literal sense? Or—

Haruka wanted to ask him, but her words turned against her and refused to come out.

But why? She had already made up her mind to face Yakumo without fear of being hated.

Perhaps it wasn’t out of fear of being hated, but out of fear that if Haruka were to say the quiet part out loud, it would become the truth.

“I’m glad you’re here,“ said Yakumo without turning around to face Haruka.

“Eh?”

“Because you’re here, I’m able to go this far even though my red left eye doesn’t work.”

“Yakumo-kun…”

A burning sensation filled Haruka’s chest.

In truth, even this time around Haruka hadn’t been able to gather any information to help solve the case, unlike Ishii and Makoto.

All she had done was to stay by Yakumo’s side, and she was annoyed by her own helplessness. And yet, Yakumo’s words earlier seeped into her heart.

“You’re a signpost,” said Yakumo.

“Signpost?”

“Yes. I suppose all this time you’ve always been like a signpost to me.”

What Yakumo said only made Haruka’s brewing anxiety implode.

“Stop saying those kinds of things!” yelled Haruka, unable to hold herself anymore.

Yakumo turned.

“...”

“Why are you saying those things? Why are you making it sound like it’s in the past? We’ll be walking together even from now on, right?” said Haruka following her emotions, inciting a chuckle from Yakumo.

A truly empty chuckle.

“Don’t worry.”

“How can I not worry?”

“If you’re with me as a signpost, I could always make it back no matter where I go.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Last night, Haruka had emotionally revealed her deepest feelings, despite her true intentions. She had intended to express them in good terms, unlike what happened that night.

She didn’t care about the outcome.

Haruka only wanted Yakumo to know, just how much she liked him—

That’s why—

“There’s still lots of things I’d like to tell you.”

“What things?”

“I can’t say right now.”

“Why?”

“I believe in your words. So I’ll tell you everything once you have saved Nao. I won’t say it now.”

“Alright. There’s something I have to tell you as well.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a long story, so let’s save it for when everything is over...”

Haruka got curious about what Yakumo had to say, but it was better not to ask now. She wanted Yakumo to think of the future—

“Sure,” Haruka nodded.

Yakumo placed his hand atop Haruka’s head.

Haruka’s chest heated up. Her tear ducts welled until her tears were about to fall that instant. However, she held it in as much as possible.

If she were to cry here, perhaps Yakumo would never come back. So—

“I believe in you.”

Yakumo walked away without giving Haruka a reply.

They might have not been far apart in distance, but Yakumo’s back felt incredibly distant. She was even worried that Yakumo would be swallowed by the darkness.

“It’ll be fine,” a voice cheered up Haruka’s gloomy feelings.

Haruka turned to find Makoto, who had stood there for some time. Ishii was next to her.

“Makoto-san—”

“Don’t worry. Whatever happens, we’ll help Yakumo-kun. Right, Ishii-san?” Makoto smiled and turned to Ishii beside her.

“Of course. Leave it to me.”

Ishii thumped his chest in an act of bravery.

However, he didn’t adjust the strength of his fist, so he was soon coughing violently.

“Ishii-san, are you alright?”

“S-sorry. I hit too hard.”

“Goodness, what are you doing?”

Watching Ishii and Makoto’s banters, Haruka reflexively smiled.

That was true. She wasn’t alone. Ishii and Makoto were here. Even Gotou, although physically he was lying in a hospital bed right now.

Besides that, while they weren’t present, Atsuko and Eishin would support them as well.

“What are you doing?” called Yakumo whilst turning to them, having walked ahead earlier.

Haruka, Ishii, and Makoto exchanged glances and nodded, before stepping forward together.

Ishii chased after Yakumo in front of the apartment building entrance.

More precisely, Yakumo was waiting there. As he didn’t have a key, he couldn’t get in.

“Ishii-san. This apartment building has a basement, right? I want to go there...” said Yakumo, narrowing his eyes.

It wasn’t clear why Yakumo wanted to enter the basement right now. That aside, Ishii didn’t understand why they went to this apartment building either as Yakumo had said that they were going to save Nao. Ishii and Miyagawa had searched all over this building, including the basement.

Ishii questioned that fact, but since this was Yakumo's request, there had to be a reason.

“I understand. Let me borrow the keys.”

Ishii called the management office through the intercom. Luckily, Takemoto was the one who answered. As soon as Ishii expressed that he wanted to borrow the basement key, Takemoto simply grumbled, “Again?” and arrived at the apartment entrance bringing the key.

Ishii had thought that Takemoto would ask a series of questions, but he merely reminded, “Please don’t do anything strange,” before handing over the key.

“Let’s go,” said Yakumo.

“Yes,” replied Ishii before leading the way down the stairs that were connected to the basement.

He opened the metal door with the key borrowed from Takemoto.

Upon turning on the lights, they entered a square shaped room surrounded by concrete walls. There was a large control panel, with water pipes twisting like a labyrinth.

Unlike the apartment building’s exterior, this room felt barren, like a factory.

“Why are we here?” asked Makoto.

“I wanted to confirm something,” answered Yakumo before touching the nearest pipe.

“Confirm what?” asked Ishii.

Yakumo smiled a little. “Regarding the poltergeist phenomena in this apartment building.”

“So it was really a poltergeist,” said Ishii excitedly, but Yakumo responded to him coldly.

“It wasn’t,” he said.

“It wasn’t?”

“Yes. I’m sure about it now.”

“About what?”

“I defined spirits or ghosts as clusters of emotions of people who had passed.”

“Yes.”

It was a theory that Yakumo had repeatedly said.

“Because of this, they don’t have the ability to exert physical influence.”

Up until this point, Ishii understood what Yakumo was about to say.

“So, there weren't any spiritual phenomena here?”

“I never said that.”

“Eh?”

Ishii thought he had caught the flow of Yakumo’s explanation. But that one sentence instantly rendered him unable to predict the direction of the conversation.

“It’s just that there are a number of phenomena that can be explained scientifically,” Yakumo continued.

“Which phenomena?”

“In this apartment building, people have heard groaning sounds and some units have also experienced earthquake-like vibrations, right?”

“Yes.”

Ishii had felt it firsthand.

“The cause behind those phenomena was this—” said Yakumo as he knocked on the pipes.

“Eh?” Ishii blurted in surprise.

Haruka frowned in confusion as well.

Unlike the rest, Makoto had a different response. “So that was how it is,” she said, clapping her hands together.

“Throughout this case, I wasn’t able to see ghosts,” said Yakumo as he traced the bottom of his left eye with his finger.

“Yes.”

“I lost faith in the definition I had defined because of it. As a result, I was thrown off and couldn’t judge the authenticity of the spiritual phenomena.”

“S-so?” Ishii braced himself.

Yakumo turned to Makoto.

It seemed that he wanted Makoto to take over with the explanation. Makoto replied with a nod and said, “If Yakumo-kun’s theory was correct, putting the groaning sounds aside, it was impossible for them to cause the apartment units to vibrate.”

“Well, to put it that way, yes.”

“So, another possible cause could be these pipes.”

“W-what does that mean?”

“After some research, I discovered that most poltergeist phenomena had a physical cause, such as vibrations from pipes or problems in air ventilation flow.”

“So that’s the case for this apartment building as well?”

“Yes, most likely,” Makoto nodded in confidence.

However, Ishii still couldn’t accept it. “Well…if it’s an old building, perhaps it could be due to poor construction or something. This apartment building was built recently, though. Did they do a half-hearted job at it and somehow ended up causing the strange sounds and vibrations?”

“That’s true...”

“Not only that, based on information from Miyagawa-san, the phenomena didn’t occur for all of the apartment units,” Ishii briefly explained.

“I can easily answer Ishii-san’s question,” said Yakumo.

“Easily?”

“Yes. After inspecting these pipes, the construction wasn’t poor and there didn’t seem to be any specific issues with it. In that case, the problem lies not on this place, where the pipes originated, but rather on the branching pipes that go along the apartment units.”

“In other words, some of the units were constructed poorly?”

“Something like that,” Yakumo shrugged.

“But…how could such a thing be…?”

“Recall the story that Makoto-san heard from the apartment building’s construction worker.”

“Which one?” There was so much information, Ishii didn’t know which one Yakumo had meant.

“The construction worker informed her that the spiritual phenomena had occurred during the construction of the apartment building as well.”

“Ah!”

Ishii finally understood.

Out of fear towards the spiritual phenomena, the workers had done a poor job on some of the units so that the construction work could be completed faster.

It wasn’t like Ishii didn’t understand their feelings. It must have been difficult for them to focus on their work whilst being scared of the spiritual phenomena.

Ishii nearly accepted the explanation before realising a contradiction.

“So, the spiritual phenomena in this building was caused by the poorly constructed pipes?”

If that were the case, then what had the construction workers been afraid of?

“The phenomena thought to be the work of poltergeists weren’t the only thing that occurred here.”

“You’re saying...”

“There are two separate phenomena taking place here; the phenomenon caused by faulty construction, and the genuine spiritual phenomenon.”

“I-is that so?”

“Yes. Previously, I had assumed that the various phenomena occurred as a whole. Had I been able to see with my left eye, I wouldn’t have gotten confused over something like this…” Yakumo laughed at himself.

“So that’s how it is!” Ishii spontaneously clapped.

Roaring sounds and vibrations weren’t the only phenomena in this apartment building.

Some people had heard voices of children laughing, or even witnessed figures of them. Sayama had taken a ghost picture as well.

As it turned out, the phenomenon from the faulty construction had gotten mixed up with the actual spiritual phenomenon.

It was just as Yakumo had said, had his left eye been able to see, he would have easily differentiated the two phenomena.

Yakumo had been thrown off by his inability to make that distinction.

“In that case, the ghosts that are haunting this place...” said Ishii, now curious about that fact.

“As I said before, most likely the ghosts were of the children who died in the fire forty years ago,” mumbled Yakumo.

The weight of those words burdened Ishii’s shoulders.

The innocent children who had died because of the fire. Was there still a way to save them?

As Ishii turned the gears of his brain, Yakumo began walking further into the room.

“Where are you going?” asked Ishii.

“To see Nao,” said Yakumo without turning around.

What was he saying? There was no way that Nao could be here. Ishii had conducted a search. So then why?

Furthermore, Yakumo hadn’t said he was going to ‘find’, rather to ‘see’.

Almost like he was confident that Nao would be in this basement. Ishii wanted to ask more, but Yakumo continued walking.

Makoto and Haruka followed Yakumo.

Still confused, Ishii walked further as well, as if drawn by them.

Huh?

As he reached the side of the innermost wall, Ishii tilted his head.

Next to the control panel there was something covered in blue cloth. There shouldn’t have been such an object back when he had come here together with Miyagawa.

“So this really is the place—” mumbled Yakumo before he grabbed the cloth and pulled it away at once.

With a swishing sound, the cloth came off to unveil what was hidden underneath.

“What?!”

Underneath it had been a wooden chair with a little girl sitting on it.

Her head hung weakly, but based on her figure and the clothes she was wearing, there was no doubt that it was Nao.

“Nao-chan!” Haruka shouted, running towards her.

However, Yakumo quickly caught Haruka’s arm to stop her.

“Don’t get any closer to her yet!” Yakumo yelled.

“B-but...”

“Did you forget? Nao is still possessed by a ghost,” said Yakumo sharply, and everyone in the room held their breath.

Makoto held her breath at the sight of Nao.

Yakumo was right. A ghost was possessing Nao. It would be dangerous to approach her carelessly.

While they were relieved at having found Nao, they couldn’t let their guard down yet. Rather, the finale was only getting started.

How was Yakumo planning to save Nao?

“Nao is possessed by the children who died forty years ago, right?” Makoto asked Yakumo.

“No,” denied Yakumo bluntly.

What’s the meaning of this?

Based on their investigation, the children who had died forty years ago had been haunting this apartment building, causing spiritual phenomena.

Hadn’t Nao gotten possessed by them and disappeared as a result?

“B-but, didn’t you say before that she was possessed by the children who died in the fire?” reminded Ishii.

Makoto also recalled that Yakumo had said so in the clubroom.

“I said that it was similar. More precisely, I said it was slightly different.”

Yakumo’s words made Makoto come to a realisation.

Indeed, Yakumo had answered Haruka’s question ambiguously back then.

So, the ghost of the children who died in the fire and the ghost possessing Nao were different?

“Then, whose ghost is now possessing Nao-chan?” Makoto leaned over, desperate for an answer.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s that man—” said Yakumo, covering his right eye with one hand and looking at Nao solely with his red left eye.

“That man?”

“My father, the man with two red eyes.”

“What!?”

Makoto wasn’t the only one who exclaimed in surprise. Ishii and Haruka covered their mouths with their hands, and their eyes grew wide like they were about to pop out.

“H-how could that be...” said Makoto with a shaky voice.

Yakumo nodded slightly before saying, “Remember the incident at Togakushi?”

“Yes.”

Makoto hadn’t been involved directly with that case, but she had heard about it.

During the case in Nagano, Yakumo and the others had uncovered the past of the man with red eyes. A terrifying past that made Makoto want to close her eyes.

The boy with red eyes and his mother had been stranded in Togakushi, Nagano prefecture.

Because of his red eyes, the mother and child had been shunned by the villagers. The boy with red eyes—Unkai—had suffered from a condition called stratum corneum that had resembled a horn on his forehead, and it had made matters worse for them.

The people of the village had banished them not as humans, but as demons. Eventually, Unkai’s mother had been killed in front of his eyes and only he alone had survived.

“Since losing his mother in Togakushi, he became alone and homeless, so he had to live constantly moving from place to place,” Yakumo explained calmly, but Makoto sensed there was indescribable anger underneath that facade.

“Afterwards, he arrived in this neighbourhood and was rescued.”

Yakumo’s gaze dropped onto his feet and he fell silent for a moment.

But it wasn’t long after before he lifted his head and continued, “And then, he was taken into the Michishirube orphanage—”

“R-really?” Makoto shouted in surprise.

“Hold on. The man’s name wasn’t in the list of children registered in the orphanage,” argued Ishii.

“He had a different name. When he was rescued, he didn’t say his name. So he was named by the serving mayor of that time. His name back then was Akira,” said Yakumo.

Ishii drew his breath in astonishment. “B-but, how do you know that the person called Akira was the man with red eyes?” he asked.

“Fairly simple. The list of names also recorded how those children came into the orphanage. I was able to hazard a guess from there.”

“Don’t tell me that person also died in the fire forty years ago?” asked Haruka.

Yakumo laughed bitterly and shook his head. “No. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have been born.”

“T-that’s true...”

“Anyway, he lived in Michishirube afterwards. Until the fire incident happened—” said Yakumo with sorrow in his eyes.

“Yakumo-kun...” called Haruka out of concern, but Yakumo didn’t seem to hear her.

“The fire forty years ago wasn’t caused by children playing with fire,” Yakumo continued.

“What was the cause?” asked Ishii.

“Someone wanted to acquire this plot of land to build a shopping mall.”

“Nanase Kanji...” said Makoto in horror.

Nanase Kanji was the father of Nanase Miyuki, the murderer who was currently a fugitive.

Ishii and Haruka couldn’t hide their surprise at the mention of that name. Makoto had gotten the chills upon seeing that name in the document from Yamashina as well.

Things that had used to be ambiguous to her became crystal clear in her eyes.

“W-what does that mean? Why that name…?” asked Ishii, his voice clearly shaken.

“Nanase Kanji’s wife was the manager of the orphanage and older sister of Hirosawa Shozo, who owned this land.” said Makoto, further eliciting Ishii’s surprised face.

“That’s...”

“From here on, some details are my own assumptions,” said Yakumo, stepping forward once. “After being informed of the plans to build a shopping mall on this land, Shozo-san never intended to sell the land. The real estate company then consulted Nanase Kanji on this, and for the sake of a decent monetary reward, he repeatedly tried to convince Shozo-san. But it was to no avail. Shozo-san refused to take away the place the orphaned children had called home.”

“D-don’t tell me...” said Ishii, guessing something from Yakumo’s explanation. He had likely reached the same conclusion as Makoto.

“At first, Nanase Kanji spread a rumour of abuse taking place at the orphanage. Despite that, Shozo-san continued to insist on not selling the land. Then came the series of disturbances, such as the building being vandalised and being thrown stones at, yet Shozo-san still refused to agree. That’s why—”

Yakumo cut off his sentence and stared at the concrete ceiling.

He was hesitant to spell out the continuation. It was to be expected. What had happened next was far too devoid of humanity, it would send a chill across anyone’s spine.

“Nanase Kanji set Michishirube on fire. He thought that would make them abandon the place,” said Yakumo calmly. His voice echoed over the concrete walls.

“S-so he took the lives of ten children for such a reason?” said Ishii out loud.

“How cruel...” Haruka placed her hand on her chest as if in pain.

Makoto’s feelings were also deeply shaken as she heard it reiterated like this. The act had been truly inhumane.

“Even after all that, Shozo-san never thought about letting go of the land. He worked hard to reopen Michishirube once again. But...”

“What happened?” asked Haruka, her voice trembling.

“Nanase Kanji thought of killing Shozo-san.”

“So, his suicide was...”

“Yes. Most likely, Nanase Kanji had killed him. Afterwards, he persuaded Kazue-san, who was mentally exhausted by then, to give up the land. As a result, not only did he receive the monetary reward, he also received the money gained from selling the land.”

Not a single person responded. No, rather, they were unable to.

A long silence filled the room surrounded by cold hard concrete.

“To go as far as killing Shozo-san...” said Haruka, choking on her words with a voice on the verge of crying.

“No. There are more victims,” Yakumo shook his head.

“Eh?”

“The children from Michishirube were transferred to other orphanages. That man was no exception—”

Makoto’s chest ached upon hearing Yakumo’s words. Now, Yakumo was about to describe the cruel reality that followed, like pouring salt on a wound.

“He was transferred to Kazaoto orphanage. What happened there? Makoto-san, please tell us.” Yakumo turned to Makoto with a sorrowful gaze.

I don’t want to.

Although her heart said so, Makoto had to do it.

“The child abuse at Kazaoto orphanage was brought to light and the orphanage closed down afterwards.”

Even without hearing the details, Ishii and Haruka looked pained upon realising the heavy nature of this story.

Makoto struggled to find her words at the thought that this had been the life story of the man with red eyes.

“The orphanage staff that had led the abuse eventually died one by one. Those were most likely his doing,” said Yakumo with a sigh.

Had the man with red eyes really caused all of their deaths as Yakumo said, his actions would be unforgivable.

That didn’t mean Makoto couldn’t understand the reason why the man with red eyes hated them to that extent.

“D-don’t tell me he was also involved in the Nanase family massacre for the same reason?” said Ishii, sweat dripping across his forehead.

“I think so,” answered Yakumo.

Ishii couldn’t comment anymore and simply closed his eyes.

While difficult to believe, Makoto had the same opinion as Yakumo.

Sixteen years ago, there had been a massacre of a family of four, including Nanase Kanji.

The person who killed them directly had been Nanase Miyuki, who had been ten years old back then. However, she had been provoked by the man with red eyes.

The man with red eyes hadn’t acted without thinking, but rather with a clear goal in mind.

While his actions were unforgivable, there had been another reason behind those actions. He wasn’t just any regular serial killer. What he had done was vengeance.

Perhaps such a person had also been born out of human greed, their tendencies to vent out anger through ways that are flawed, or even their erasure of those different from oneself for the sake of self-defence—waves of emotions that could come from just about anyone.

The man with red eyes hadn’t been anyone exceptional at the start. Instead, he had been transformed into something exceptional through the actions of others.

Makoto’s feelings became unbearable at that thought.

“You heard us, right? I think it’s about time that you wake up,” said Yakumo, turning to Nao.

As if she had been waiting for those words, Nao slowly lifted her face.

Nao’s eyes, which used to be filled with gentle light, had turned glum. They gleamed with anger and hatred.

“Even though my left eyesight finally recovered, the first thing I saw ended up being you—” said Yakumo, talking to himself.

“Yakumo-kun...” said Haruka reflexively.

His words just now...could Yakumo see through his left eye now?

Noticing her intentions, Yakumo briefly glanced at Haruka and nodded.

So his left eye really could see again. After knowing the fact, the light that had once vanished from Yakumo’s red eye appeared as if it had returned once again.

“W-what are you saying?” asked Ishii, his voice stuck on his throat.

“As I said earlier, the ghost possessing Nao is that man—” answered Yakumo.

“That man…as in the man with two red eyes?” said Ishii to confirm, and Yakumo responded with a nod.

“Eeek!” Ishii instantly jumped in horror.

His reaction was a little excessive, but Haruka could understand how he felt. All this time, Yakumo’s father—the man with two red eyes—had been the cause behind countless cases.

Although he had died and only his soul had remained, he continued to manipulate others and led them to destruction.

Such actions simply couldn’t be described solely as ‘horrifying‘.

“B-but, why is he possessing Nao-chan?” Makoto asked the burning question.

Haruka had the same thought in mind.

Why did the man with red eyes possess Nao?

“From the beginning, his target wasn’t Nao,” said Yakumo, narrowing his gaze.

His eyes looked sad.

“What do you mean?” asked Makoto.

“Don’t you understand? He’s already dead. Yet after becoming a ghost, his desire to live grew even stronger,” said Yakumo lightly.

“Why go that far…?” Haruka asked the question that popped in her mind.

“I’ve explained the story of the man’s life just now, right?”

“Yes.”

Moments earlier, Yakumo had revealed a portion of the man’s past. His mother had been killed in front of him and he had to live homeless from one place to another.

He had been in the care of Michishirube orphanage for some time, but the orphanage had burned down from the actions of some greedy people, killing ten of his friends. Furthermore, Shozo-san, the orphanage headmaster, had become a victim of murder that had been made to appear like a suicide.

The tragedy that had befallen the man with red eyes didn’t end there. He had been abused in the orphanage he had been transferred into.

Just what kind of feelings had he been living with whilst going through such a cruel reality?

Everything the man with red eyes had done was impossible to forgive. Regardless, if she were asked if it was entirely his fault, Haruka had trouble finding the answer.

It had been the injustice surrounding him that had driven the man with red eyes to insanity.

“His mother was killed before his eyes, Shozo-san whom he cared for was killed as well—”

“Don’t tell me he witnessed Shozo-san’s murder as well?”

“There’s no proof, but based on his actions after that incident, I think we can assume so.“

“...”

Yakumo was right.

Afterwards, the man with red eyes had taken his revenge at Nanase Kanji. He had done so precisely because he had known the truth.

“From his experience, he came to believe that darkness is the true nature of humans, and his desire to live extended past reasonable lengths.”

“Because he saw people die before his eyes?”

“I believe so. The deaths of one’s closest people often left a significant impression. Especially if the deaths weren’t natural. His view of life and death became horribly distorted.”

“...”

Haruka held her breath.

She understood what Yakumo was saying. Haruka herself had gotten a lasting wound in her heart after her older sister, Ayaka, died when they were children.

It had greatly affected how she viewed life and death.

“Yet somehow, the man died. The cause remains unknown, but I believe he’s been dead for several years.”

How did the man with red eyes die?

There were a couple of things left unanswered, but now wasn’t the time to think about them. Instead—

“Then, why is he possessing Nao-chan?” asked Haruka.

Yakumo narrowed his eyes and looked into the distance.

Haruka’s heart shook.

Why were Yakumo’s eyes like that? They were as if he had given up on everything.

“That man wanted life. He attempts to continue on living by taking over other people’s bodies. And the target he chose was someone who inherited his DNA, who shares the same red eye and has the ability to see ghosts—me.”

That’s right.

The man with red eyes’—Unkai’s—goal was to take over Yakumo’s body. However, in order to have complete control over his body, he had to align Yakumo’s mental state with his. He had to pull Yakumo over to his side, or else there would be a rejection reaction.

Because of this, Unkai caused countless new cases in his efforts to hurt Yakumo.

All so that he could corner Yakumo into despair so that his body would be easy to take over. Isshin’s case had been a prime example of this.

Yakumo had managed to pull through all of them thanks to the resilience of his mental state.

But what about now?

Yakumo had been acting strangely ever since he had talked to Kazue. As if he felt hopeless against the cruelty of this world.

Besides, just now his eyes looked empty, like he had given up on everything—

Suddenly, Yakumo’s words back at the Movie Research Circle clubroom resurfaced in Haruka’s mind.

At the time, Yakumo had asked Ishii and the rest to tie him up as soon as Nao was safe. What was the meaning behind that request?

“I suppose that man wanted to show me, just what kind of life he had lived—”

“That’s...”

“Yes. He wanted my mental state to come close to his by doing so. To make me easier to possess.”

So that was how it was. That was why Yakumo had gone to meet Kazue alone. Haruka understood now.

Yakumo had to have asked about Unkai’s life at the orphanage to Kazue. To confront the man with red eyes—his father—Yakumo had gone by himself to hear a piece of his past.

But you’re fine, right, Yakumo-kun? Haruka hoped within her heart.

Unfortunately, her hopes were rendered pointless as what Yakumo said next shattered her heart.

“To be honest, I don’t know anymore. Which is right, and which is wrong. Saying sugar coated words like there’s always hope and the like, those are merely delusional fantasies.”

“Yakumo-kun, what are you saying?” interrupted Haruka.

Her voice didn’t seem to reach him as Yakumo continued without skipping a beat, “No matter how much one puts up resistance, the cruel reality will eventually consume those who are weak. In the end, perhaps that is the true form of human life—”

Yakumo turned towards Nao—no, towards the man with two red eyes. His eyes trembled as if he was going to disappear in that instant.

“Yakumo-kun, please don’t think of anything strange,” said Haruka, but Yakumo didn’t give any reply.

He simply stared intently at Nao.

Nao’s expression, which had been blank the whole time, suddenly moved. It was clearly different from her typical gentle smile. She smiled cynically, as if mocking others.

“You finally understood—”

At first Haruka thought it was Nao speaking, but she was wrong. It was the voice of a man. Besides, Nao’s hearing was impaired, and it affected her ability to speak.

The voice must belong to the man with two red eyes, who was possessing Nao. As further proof, a shadow appeared to float behind Nao.

The shadow soon took the form of that man—the man with two red eyes.

“Yes,” Yakumo nodded.

“Surely now you understand the meaning behind my words back then. Humanity’s true character is darkness. Everyone cares only for themselves. They will not hesitate to endanger others for their own sake. Even love is nothing but a way to satiate one’s desire.”

“Perhaps that is so...” Yakumo replied weakly.

He appeared to be swallowed by pressure from the man with two red eyes.

“Humans are helpless in the face of darkness.”

“I don’t deny that.”

“You’re helpless yourself. There’s nothing you can do even though you want to save this child.”

The man’s laugh reverberated across the room.

It was irritating to admit, but perhaps the man with two red eyes was right. This entire time, when Yakumo had helped all those people who had gotten possessed, he’d find the cause behind the ghosts’ lingering attachment before resolving that cause.

In other words, he had pleaded for them to leave.

But the man with two red eyes wouldn’t respond to such pleas. He’d continue to inhabit that body until Nao died.

“No, there’s another way.”

“What?”

“There’s only one way to save Nao,” mumbled Yakumo.

Haruka immediately figured out what Yakumo was about to do next. Perhaps Yakumo was about to—

“I won’t allow it!” shouted Haruka.

However, Yakumo didn’t respond.

“It’s my body you wanted, right? Then be my guest,” said Yakumo as he spread out both of his arms.

“Stop it!”

There’s no way I’ll allow it!

In order to save Nao, Yakumo intended to transfer the soul of the man with two red eyes possessing Nao into his own body.

“Please! Stop this!”

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER! THIS IS OUR ONLY WAY TO SAVE NAO!” yelled Yakumo with a voice so loud unlike anything he had ever done before.

The pressure was indescribable. But if that was enough to scare Haruka, she wouldn’t be able to stay by Yakumo’s side.

If the ghost possessing Nao had really been the man with two red eyes, he wouldn’t answer to any of their pleas to leave Nao’s body peacefully.

If they left the situation as it is, Nao would grow weaker or worse, she would pass away.

Indeed, there was no other way to drag the man with two red eyes out of Nao’s body other than this. But at this rate, Yakumo would—

“Didn’t you tell me not to worry?” yelled Haruka again.

Haruka felt her worst fears would come true if she were to cry right here. She had been keeping herself together, but now her tears fell down on their own.

“Sorry. That was a lie—” Yakumo looked at Haruka with saddened eyes.

“A lie…?”

“You’re a signpost to me. So please stay right there—” said Yakumo, forming a smile on his face.

All of a sudden, Haruka was able to see through everything. That was it. So that was how it was—

If that were the case, what she could do now was stay right here as she always had. She would always be where she was so that Yakumo could return from any kind of darkness.

Haruka held the red stone on her necklace with both hands and prayed.

Yakumo appeared satisfied at the sight of it and nodded.

That’s right. Yakumo wouldn’t lie.

“Now. If you want to do it, hurry up,” said Yakumo, challenging Nao.

“No. Once this child dies, only then I’ll slowly take over your body,” said the man with two red eyes with a smile.

“I won’t allow it. If you refuse to leave Nao’s body—” said Yakumo as he reached into his pocket, before taking out a folding knife and aiming it at his own neck.

Yakumo threatened that if the man with two red eyes wouldn’t leave Nao’s body, then he would kill himself—

The man with two red eyes wanted Yakumo’s body while he was still alive. If Yakumo were to die, then it would be pointless.

This was Yakumo’s last resort strategy.

“Stop with your games. You’ll never be able to kill yourself,” said the man, narrowing his two red eyes.

“Oh yeah? Shall we give it a try?” Yakumo responded with a sharp gaze of his own at the man with two red eyes.

His eyes weren’t fooling around. He was completely serious about this. So it was true, Yakumo had fully prepared himself to die as he arrived at this place.

No one dared to make a sound.

Unbearable silence filled the entire room.

Amidst the tension that rendered it difficult to breathe, Haruka struggled to stand in her place.

She wanted to save Yakumo. But if she weren’t careful, the knife at Yakumo’s neck could slice through his artery.

What should I do?

Time passed before the man with red eyes asked, “Why would you go that far?”

“Don’t you understand? Because I have people I need to protect even if it means putting my life on the line.”

“You’re saying it was an act of love?”

“No. To put it in your words, this is my greed. My greed for not wanting Nao to die...”

“That greed gave birth to darkness.”

“I know that without you telling me.”

“Did you invite that darkness yourself?”

“What are you saying? You were the one who said humanity’s true character is darkness. If so, then any human would possess that darkness from the start.”

“Now you understand that fact?”

“Cut the small talk. What will you do? Are you going to stand back and watch? Or will you leave Nao’s body for mine?” said Yakumo as he applied pressure using the hand that held the knife.

Droplets of red blood spilled from his pale neck.

“Your body is mine—” said the man with two red eyes, exiting Nao’s body in an instant before leaping towards Yakumo.

Nao lost consciousness soon after and her head hung listlessly.

“Aagh!” Yakumo screamed and held his head, one knee dropping against the floor.

“Yakumo-shi!” yelled Ishii, running to approach him before stopping on his tracks.

Yakumo’s body trembled as he growled in agony.

Cold sweat formed on his forehead.

“Yakumo-kun, hang in there,” called Haruka, but Yakumo didn’t answer and fell towards the ground in pain.

His body began to spasm as if throwing a fit.

“Yakumo-kun...”

Yakumo screamed, drowning the sound of Haruka’s voice.

A scream akin to that of a howling beast.

He’s being devoured.

That was what Ishii thought upon hearing the sound of Yakumo’s beast-like howl.

Yakumo’s soul must have had been overtaken completely by the man with two red eyes. Otherwise he wouldn’t let out such a horrifying scream.

Ishii could only stand in place.

For the sake of saving Nao, Yakumo had been willing to give up his body to the man with two red eyes. He must have had predicted this situation from the start.

Hence the reason why back when they had gathered in Yakumo’s room, he had requested for them to tie him up.

He had wanted to save Nao whilst entrapping the soul of the man with red eyes within him at the same time.

The man with red eyes might be a ghost, but he had manipulated the feelings of many through his words, encouraging them to commit crimes.

As a police officer, forget prosecuting him for his actions, Ishii couldn’t even apprehend him or prevent his movements.

Even so, if Yakumo were to seal that man within his body, then at least they would be able to catch him.

Obviously, Yakumo had never committed any crimes so they couldn’t send him into prison, but perhaps they could isolate him in a facility and keep him confined there.

For him to had made such a request, Yakumo must have thought that far ahead.

However, that would be the same as shouldering all the crimes committed by the man with red eyes all by himself. Like Jesus Christ shouldering all of humankind’s sins—

Haruka might find such an ending unacceptable, but they had no other choice.

As if Ishii could accept it either.

It was simply that if they were to let the man with red eyes go, then Yakumo’s efforts would be in vain. He had to make sure that wouldn’t happen.

He felt that was the only thing he could do to repay Yakumo’s fearless act.

Ishii reached for his handcuffs, firmed his resolve, and walked towards Yakumo.

Strange. Each time he stepped closer to Yakumo, his vision kept getting distorted.

What is this?

Ishii touched his eyes and his tears overflowed.

It wasn’t as if Ishii liked everything about Yakumo. He never trusted Yakumo the way Haruka did and he didn’t depend on him like he depended on Gotou.

Despite that—Yakumo was still a friend.

No, perhaps family was the better word. They might have only crossed paths whenever a case turned up, but Yakumo was an irreplaceable existence to Ishii.

Ishii was once again reminded of that fact.

Right as Ishii was about to handcuff Yakumo, Yakumo suddenly stood up. His cold gaze pierced through Ishii. The pressure was so intense, Ishii froze in place as he held his breath. Almost like a frog being glared at by a snake.

“Did you really think you could catch me that easily? I’m going to kill all of you—”

Yakumo’s voice echoed throughout the room.

No, the words might have come out of Yakumo’s mouth, but the man with red eyes must have been the one who had made him say those things.

“E-Eeek!” Ishii shrieked, jumping backwards instinctively.

He tripped on something and fell sitting down. He immediately tried to get up, but Yakumo was already in front of his eyes.

This is bad. I’m going to get killed.

Ishii shut his eyes tightly as he held his head.

He knew that such an act wouldn’t save him, yet he still acted so in reflex.

“Just kidding—” said Yakumo.

His voice was clearly different from before. The intonation sounded like he was fooling around.

“Eh?”

Ishii hesitantly opened his eyes and saw Yakumo standing there with a thin smile.

“Sorry. I was just messing with you guys a little. I’m fine,” said Yakumo nonchalantly.

Finally, Ishii grasped the situation.

“Idiot!” Haruka shouted as she approached Yakumo, landing a punch onto his shoulder.

Ishii normally would’ve tried to intervene, but right now he had no intention of doing so. Rather, he thought it would’ve been better if that punch was directed at Yakumo’s face instead.

Yakumo wasn’t the type to joke about these kinds of things. So Ishii had bought it entirely. And yet—

“Yakumo-shi, you’re not possessed?” asked Ishii.

“I have a signpost, so I’ll always return from the darkness no matter what,” said Yakumo, turning to Haruka with a smile.

A signpost. So that was how it was.

Ishii understood now.

The words Yakumo had said to Haruka back then. The meaning behind his words must have been ‘no need to worry’. Haruka had been able to read it and trusted Yakumo.

That was why earlier, Haruka hadn’t tried to stop Yakumo and continued to pray.

The strength of their feelings toward each other impressed Ishii, but he suddenly felt something was off.

Why would Yakumo decide to do something like this?

“Wasn’t your joke taking it too far?” said Makoto, clearly displeased by Yakumo’s actions.

“Sorry. I thought that I had to do a little bit of acting in order to trick that man,” Yakumo laughed bitterly.

“Acting…?” Ishii tilted his head.

“If I didn’t show that my mental state was weakening, that man would’ve refused to leave Nao’s body. Besides, I doubt that he would’ve accepted my offer if I didn’t take it that far.”

“Oh...” blurted Ishii, accepting Yakumo’s explanation.

The man with two red eyes wanted to take over Yakumo’s body. He didn’t know the details, but for him to take over his body completely, apparently their mental states had to align.

In other words, Yakumo had baited the man with red eyes to possess him by pretending that his mental state had weakened. Furthermore, he had used the suicide act as a tactic to push the man into taking action.

Even so, Yakumo’s eyes back then didn’t look like he had been acting. Perhaps at that time, he had really been prepared to die.

“If that were the case, why didn’t you inform us earlier? You were acting strangely, so we got worried...” interrupted Makoto.

She was right. A plan like this could’ve been shared with them in advance.

It must’ve been difficult for Haruka as well, although she trusted Yakumo in the end.

“Ishii-san, Makoto-san, could both of you check your right shoes?” said Yakumo.

Why did they have to check their shoes in this situation? His words didn’t answer Makoto’s question, either.

Ishii grew dumbfounded and exchanged glances with Makoto.

Yakumo urged them, “Don’t think about it, just check it out first. You’ll understand afterwards.”

With no other choice, Ishii took off his right shoe. But for what exactly? Ishii tilted his head in confusion.

Yakumo then said, “The heel part.”

As he examined the heel as pointed out by Yakumo, Ishii’s eyes went wide.

Embedded there was a small pin-like object. The same object that was also embedded onto the heel of Makoto’s shoe.

Ishii had seen this object before.

“D-don’t tell me this is a listening bug?” asked Ishii.

Yakumo snapped his fingers. “Correct.”

“W-why would there be a bug…?”

“To check just how much I had weakened by listening to my voice through the bug.”

Yakumo must have known about it earlier, so he had continued acting weak in front of Ishii and Makoto.

But in that case—

“Who could’ve done it? And since when...”

Ishii had no idea when that bug could’ve been planted on his shoe. Makoto seemed to feel the same. She was left aghast.

“That question relates to the question of why Nao could get here...” said Yakumo, ruffling his already dishevelled hair.

“So why? Even though Miyagawa-san and I had checked through this place earlier...”

“Simple. Nao wasn’t just here the entire time. Someone had been relocating her.”

“R-relocating?”

“Yes. The culprit estimated the right timing to relocate Nao to this place.”

No wonder why they hadn’t been able to find her despite searching everywhere.

Ishii realised that now, but one question still remained.

“But who did it?”

“You still don’t understand, Ishii-san? The same person who planted the listening bug on you and Makoto-san’s shoes.”

After listening to Yakumo’s explanation this far, one face flashed into Ishii’s mind. His back shivered in an instant.

“D-don’t tell me…Nanase Miyuki?”

“That’s right.”

The person who had answered Ishii’s question hadn’t been Yakumo.

The voice had originated from right behind him. However, due to the cold touch of the knife on his neck, he couldn’t turn around to confirm.

“Nice meeting you again, Ishii-san.”

There was no mistaking the person whispering into Ishii’s ear. It was Nanase Miyuki herself—

“Ishii-san!” yelled Makoto, but she couldn’t step in to help as a long-haired woman pointed a knife at Ishii’s neck from behind.

“So it’s really you—Nanase Miyuki-san,” said Yakumo calmly, unlike Makoto who had begun to panic.

“Eh?” Haruka exclaimed.

Makoto felt the same way. Was the woman in front of her eyes really Nanase Miyuki?

Her stature might be similar and she was indeed missing her left hand. Yet her face was clearly different from what they had seen during previous cases.

Her eyes, nose, mouth, and overall face had a more rounded look; she appeared younger than the Nanase Miyuki that Makoto had known. Beside that, half of her face should have been covered by keloid burn scars, but it was nowhere to be seen.

“Is she really Nanase Miyuki-san?” asked Makoto.

Yakumo nodded. “We can tell from her voice.”

As Yakumo said, her voice was unmistakably Nanase Miyuki’s. Having thought that far, Makoto then understood.

“Plastic surgery?”

“Yes.”

So it was true.

Nanase Miyuki had done plastic surgery countless times up until now. As it had turned out, this time around she too had managed to evade police investigation by altering her face.

“You speak as if you’ve known that I was going to come,” said Nanase Miyuki, glaring at Yakumo with a gaze full of hatred.

“Yes, I know.”

“Why’d you think so?” Miyuki asked challengingly.

“Simple enough. This case began so that man could take over my body. With this knowledge, it’s not hard to conclude that you had to be moving behind the scenes as well.”

There was no anger nor contempt within Yakumo’s eyes as he returned Miyuki’s gaze.

Yakumo’s eyes looked as if he pitied the woman.

“Acting tough.”

“Wrong. Here is the proof.” Yakumo took out a piece of photo from his pocket and brought it up.

Makoto had seen that photo before. It was the photo that had been displayed in a frame in Sayama’s apartment. The photo of a woman standing at the edge of a lake.

When Makoto had asked him whether that woman was his lover, Sayama had laughed shyly.

“This was you, right?” said Yakumo calmly.

The photo of the woman had been captured from afar, but when pointed out, the woman before her eyes—Nanase Miyuki—did appear similar to the woman in the photo.

In other words, unknowingly, Sayama had gotten into a relationship with Nanase Miyuki and had lived together with her.

“Oh? I got found out?” Nanase Miyuki jokingly replied.

Yakumo spontaneously laughed in disbelief. “Are you kidding? You’re a meticulous person, it was impossible for you to leave something like this in the apartment unintentionally.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying that you left this photo behind in the apartment on purpose so that I would see it.”

“And why would I do such a thing?”

Makoto questioned the same thing as Nanase Miyuki. There was no explanation for her having gone as far as getting plastic surgery after escaping, only to purposely leave evidence of her presence behind.

“Your plan was to make me look into that man’s life. Both of you intended for it to affect me mentally in order to create a situation that makes it easier for him to take over my body,” said Yakumo, glancing towards a corner.

While faint, Makoto could also see the figure of the man with red eyes standing there.

“So what if so?”

“To put it simply, you had to somehow make me realise that the two of you were behind this case—isn’t that right?”

So that was how it was.

Makoto finally understood as well. For Yakumo to begin investigating the life of the man with red eyes, they first had to reveal their involvement.

“More or less so. Well done…should I say?”

“Yet such a cowardly move only backfired to put you at a disadvantage.”

“What do you mean?”

“I realised more things than you intended after seeing this photo,”

“What are you saying?”

“About the listening bug planted onto Ishii-san and Makoto-san—” said Yakumo, to Makoto’s surprise.

“When exactly did the bug get planted?” asked Makoto.

Yakumo grinned. “Ishii-san and Makoto-san have visited Sayama-san’s apartment before, right? Both of you must have taken off your shoes at the entrance.”

“Ah!”

So that was when—Makoto then understood.

When they had entered the apartment before, it was only natural that they had to take off their shoes. The bug must have been planted as Makoto and Ishii had been talking to Sayama in the apartment.

Having mentioned that, Yakumo had told them before to rub off their shoe soles [1]. Perhaps he had realised the bug’s existence by then.

An amazing display of analytical skill.

Amidst the investigation, Yakumo had requested Makoto to find out the identity of Sayama’s lover.

At the time, he had asked Makoto to show a photo of Nanase Miyuki to the person who knew the face of Sayama’s lover. As the outcome, Shigemori had said that they hadn’t been the same person. However, Yakumo’s intentions had never been to confirm that fact.

He had known that Nanase Miyuki had had plastic surgery done and had a different appearance, so using the bug implanted on Makoto, he had intended to indirectly notify her that he had been investigating the man with red eyes’ past, before pretending to have a weakened mental state in order to bait them into coming here.

As Makoto was impressed by how fast Yakumo’s line of thinking worked, she felt a horrifying feeling. A thought appeared in her mind.

“D-don’t tell me, the person who killed Sayama-san was…”

“Yes. It was her,” said Yakumo as he stared at Nanase Miyuki.

“W-why would she do that…?”

“Recall Sayama-san’s final words once again. You’ll find the answer from there,” said Yakumo, as Makoto began to think.

That’s right.

Sayama had said, why did he not realise after all this time. Perhaps he had realised by then that his lover had been the fugitive murderer, Nanase Miyuki.

Afterwards, he had mentioned that it hadn’t been a spiritual phenomenon or anything of the sort. Those words hadn’t been because he had doubted the occurrence of the spiritual phenomena, but rather because he had become distrustful of all the phenomena that had happened thus far upon realising Nanase Miyuki’s presence.

Yakumo nodded as if he had known that Makoto had understood everything now.

“Thanks to that, I was able to make use of your own cowardly methods,” said Yakumo.

Nanase Miyuki grimaced. “So, you think you’ve won?” she said challengingly.

“As a matter of fact, that man failed to take over my body.”

“You really are full of yourself. Why do you think I am here?”

“Because you are foolish.”

“Wrong. Because there are still other ways to push you to the edge of despair.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Do you still not understand? You’re unexpectedly oblivious. Why do you think he’s still here even though the plan didn’t work out?”

As if responding to Nanase Miyuki’s words, the man with red eyes stepped closer.

“Would you still be fine once I’ve killed every single person that mattered to you right here?”

Nanase Miyuki’s words made Makoto shiver.

Her plan was clear as day. If she were to kill everyone in this room, Yakumo would surely lose his sanity.

And Ishi was about to be the first to fall victim.

Calmly and gradually, Nanase Miyuki applied pressure to the knife at Ishii’s neck.

“Please! Stop this!” yelled Makoto.

“Makoto-san! Don’t come closer!” Ishii stopped Makoto who was about to run towards him.

Usually, Ishii would’ve screamed and cried by now, but right now Ishii’s eyes emanated a powerful light that Makoto had never seen before.

“I-Ishii-san...”

“Now it’s my turn to save you,” said Ishii, a faint smile forming on his face.

Judging from his expression alone, Makoto could tell what he was about to do. Ishii intended to stall Nanase Miyuki by sacrificing himself.

“No! If you were gone, I...” said Makoto as she began tearing up. She felt it was better for her to be the one sacrificing herself rather than Ishii having to die. Without realising, her feelings towards Ishii had grown to such an extent.

“Farewell, Makoto-san—”

Ishii’s voice reverberated hollowly within Makoto’s chest.

Ishii firmed his resolve—

Frankly, he was scared. Yet if he didn’t act, Nanase Miyuki would surely kill everyone in this room as she had declared.

His feelings of not wanting Makoto and Haruka to get killed overpowered his own fears.

Strange. All this time whenever his life had been put on the line, he had only been able to cower and prepare to run away. Yet right now, he was mustering all his courage to act.

He even thought that it was fine if he were to die here. And the one who had changed him was Makoto.

Ishii had thought that he could only have gotten this far by chasing after Gotou’s back. But he had been mistaken.

Ishii could reach this point because Makoto had always been watching him. Thanks to Makoto, little by little Ishii began to like himself, whom he had used to hate.

That was why—

As Ishii made up his mind to confront Nanase Miyuki, a blunt thud was heard.

The knife on his neck went away as he felt Nanase Miyuki, who had been standing behind him, collapse and fall.

What just happened?

Ishii turned and his eyes were greeted by an unbelievable sight.

“D-Detective Gotou!”

Gotou stood before him.

He looked pitiful with the bandages all over his body and the crutch he was using. But he was unmistakably Gotou.

Miyagawa was there as well, supporting Gotou who was on the verge of collapsing.

“What are you doing just standing there? Handcuff this woman immediately!” scolded Gotou.

“Y-yes!” answered Ishii, who hurriedly handcuffed Nanase Miyuki against the nearest pipe.

At last, they managed to catch Nanase Miyuki.

As Ishii felt relieved over the fact, Gotou walked towards Nao with staggering steps.

“Nao...” Gotou called for Nao, who remained sitting on the chair.

But there was no response from Nao.

“Don’t worry. She was slightly weakened, but she should recover soon,” said Yakumo.

Gotou then hugged Nao in a loving embrace.

The corners of Ishii’s eye began welling up at the scene.

However—

“How did Detective Gotou get here?” asked Ishii.

“Gotou-san was furious, saying that he wouldn’t be satisfied if he didn’t get to beat up the person behind all of this. So I requested Miyagawa-san to bring him here,” answered Yakumo.

Certainly, Gotou couldn’t forgive the person who had done all of this. True to his word, he really had beaten Nanase Miyuki until she passed out.

Even so, the real reason Gotou had forced his badly injured body to come over must have been that he had wanted to hug Nao with his own hands.

Having known that intention, Miyagawa had agreed to bring Gotou here.

“Goodness. To think all of you could force me to do something like this...” Miyagawa grumbled, scratching his head.

As opposed to his manner of speaking, tears also welled up slightly around Miyagawa’s eyes. Miyagawa had also worked hard for Gotou and Nao’s sake. The scene must have moved him as well.

Lost in his train of thought, something suddenly bumped onto Ishii’s body.

Ishii nearly fell due to the abruptness.

It was Makoto—

She had jumped towards Ishii and hugged him.

“M-Makoto-san...”

“Seriously. Please stop it. I won’t forgive you the next time you value yourself so little once again,” said Makoto, burying her face onto Ishii’s chest.

Her voice was trembling and weak; a voice that was unheard of coming from a woman who was normally cold headed.

Ishii couldn’t see her face, but Makoto seemed to be crying. His chest felt slightly damp.

Makoto’s quivering body looked adorable.

Following his instincts, Ishii was about to hug Makoto—but a punch landed on top of his head at the next instant.

“What are you two doing, getting all lovey-dovey! I can’t stand looking at it!” yelled Miyagawa, returning Ishi to his senses.

He had nearly done something inappropriate, hugging a woman in front of so many people.

Furthermore, Makoto wouldn’t like it if he did it. Makoto was only crying like this out of relief after getting out of such an intense situation.

Otherwise, there was no way Makoto would have hugged Ishii.

“S-sorry,” apologised Ishii to Miyagawa, but he couldn’t force Makoto to let go and ended up standing still in place.

Either way, everything was all over at last—

Ishii’s chest filled with satisfaction.

“So, it’s all over?” asked Haruka as she slowly walked to approach Yakumo.

For a moment, she had thought that everything was going to end badly. Her mind was still all over the place even now. Despite that, the most important thing was that everyone was safe and sound.

Yakumo had safely returned as well.

“No, not yet—” replied Yakumo with a serious expression. His eyes turned towards the man with red eyes, standing amidst darkness. Haruka’s body froze from anxiety.

As Nanase Miyuki had been captured, they had let their guard down, but the man with red eyes remained still with them in that space.

Everyone’s gaze soon focused on the man with red eyes, as if influenced by the atmosphere emanated by Yakumo.

“I’d like for you to meet with someone. Please—you can come in now,” said Yakumo.

The entrance door opened, and entering the room was Eishin, pushing a wheelchair.

A woman was sitting on the wheelchair. She must have been at least eighty years old. Her face might be wrinkled and her hair completely white, but the woman’s eyes radiated her strong willpower.

As soon as the woman entered the room, the air began to shake.

“You recognize her, don’t you? She’s Hirosawa Kazue,” said Yakumo to the man with red eyes.

So this woman is her.

Although Haruka had followed along to the Institute of Elderly Welfare, Yakumo had entered the building by himself, so this was the first time she had seen Kazue’s face.

The woman who had managed the Michishirube orphanage with her husband, Shozo. Because of Nanase Kanji’s rotten plan, she had lost ten children in the fire. To make matters worse, she had to lose her husband as well.

Just that kind of life had Kazue lived afterwards, all alone by herself? Haruka’s chest ached at the thought.

Suddenly, children’s laughter could be heard.

Yakumo glanced upwards and mumbled, “That’s true...”

“What was that sound?” asked Ishii, glancing around for the source.

“Those children came to see Kazue-san.”

Yakumo’s explanation made Haruka understand. While she couldn’t see them, the ghosts of the children who had been haunting the apartment building had gathered upon Kazue’s arrival.

She had been horrified when she had heard about the spiritual phenomena in this apartment building for the first time. However, having gotten the full picture, she thought differently now.

The sound of children’s laughter echoed once more.

To Haruka, their laughter sounded overjoyed.

They must have been delighted to be able to meet Kazue.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been abandoning all of you this entire time…” mumbled Kazue.

No one knew whether she could actually see the ghosts of those children. Regardless, she must have felt their presence.

The presence of the children she had been looking after—

“All of you must have been lonely. Hurt. I’m sorry. But there’s no need to wait here anymore.”

Tears fell from Kazue’s eyes.

“Yakumo-kun...” Haruka turned towards Yakumo.

Yakumo nodded. “The children haunting this apartment building don’t realise that they’re already dead.”

“That’s awful...”

“So they waited while playing here. Waiting for someone to come fetch them—” explained Yakumo, voice trembling slightly.

The children who had been taken into Michishirube hadn’t been able to live with their biological parents. Yet to those children, Shozo and Kazue must have been like their own biological parents to them.

Shozo and Kazue had also loved those children from the bottom of their hearts. Even looking at Gotou and Nao had made Haruka realise blood relations weren’t everything.

Hence Shozo and Kazue had insisted not to let go of their land and had worked their hardest to reopen the orphanage after the fire incident.

“After Shozo-san passed, Kazue-san lost her spirit. She let go of the land and never came close to this place again,” said Yakumo, shaking his head lightly.

Haruka understood her feelings. Kazue must have struggled to approach this place as it had been where everything had reached a dead end for her.

Without knowing that, the children had stayed here and continued to wait.

“Sorry it took me so long. It’s alright now…” said Kazue, stretching out her hands.

Faintly, Haruka could see the figures of children gathering around Kazue’s wheelchair.

The scene was gone in a flash, but there was no mistaking it, Haruka was certain. The brief smile forming on Yakumo’s face was the very proof of it.

After a long silence, Yakumo turned his gaze to the ceiling as if following something, before inhaling a deep breath.

“They’ve left—” he whispered.

“Is that so...”

Haruka couldn’t just simply feel relieved about the fact.

The fact that the lives of those children had been lost out of personal greed would never change. No amount of prayer would ever return the future that they could never have—

“Now then—it’s your turn,” said Yakumo as he slowly approached the man with two red eyes.

For some reason, the man with red eyes’ figure appeared weaker than earlier. Even though moments ago his mere presence had made Haruka’s body froze—

“You’re still trying to resist?” The man with red eyes threw a cold gaze towards Yakumo.

“Yes. Didn’t this incident make you realise? From here on, no matter what you do, I’ll never share the same opinion as you,” declared Yakumo assertively.

The man with red eyes returned his gaze with one just as sharp. “Why would you resist that far?”

“I used to hate myself—” said Yakumo, dropping his gaze onto his feet as he smiled mockingly at himself.

Haruka’s chest felt crushed.

A life lived whilst hating oneself had to be one full of suffering.

“I thought I was cursed from having the blood of someone such as you run through my veins,” Yakumo continued.

“That’s right. You’re cursed. That red left eye of yours brings forth all kinds of hatred. People will run into misfortunes if they cross paths with you,” the man with red eyes provoked with a smile.

“Perhaps you are right.”

“If you understood that, why resist? If you continue to live, you’ll only be spreading that curse.”

The man with red eyes lifted his palm in front of Yakumo’s eyes and curled his hand into a fist.

As if he was crushing Yakumo’s heart into pieces.

“Even so, there are people who say despite who I am…no, rather, because I am myself, they need me.”

“Those were merely illusions. In reality, they hate you. They were mocking you. They merely said nice things out of their own hypocrisy.”

“That’s not true!” Yakumo exclaimed.

“What?”

“It wasn’t an illusion. Neither me, nor you...”

“Then, what is it?”

“It was all the truth. No matter how much you try to deny it, the truth cannot be changed.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I can finally accept it. That it was all thanks to this cursed blood that the me right now was able to exist.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” said the man with red eyes, his expression hesitant.

Confusion must have risen within himself.

“Don’t you understand? I said that I was able to meet people important to me thanks to you.”

“What!?”

The man’s eyes went wide.

Even to the man with red eyes before him, who had manipulated the feelings of countless others, Yakumo’s statement had been unexpected.

“Certainly, your actions are unforgivable. But I have now stopped denying your existence.”

“You...”

“There’s no use for me to deny your existence. You exist, and as a result, I am here as well. Humans can only stand above the past. No amount of denial can ever change what has happened.”

“That’s just an excuse...” said the man with red eyes, tilting his mouth.

Haruka could feel that Yakumo’s unexpected words had left him confused and faltered.

“I wasn’t making excuses. It was the truth. Someone told me that they liked this cursed self of mine. For that person’s sake, I can’t allow myself to deny my past, and your existence.”

Yakumo’s words made Haruka’s chest heat up.

Yakumo was ready to accept everything that had happened thus far—every misery, every suffering, every sadness—as part of himself.

It might have sounded easy, yet difficult to do in reality.

For people who had been burdened by a cruel past just like Yakumo, all of those were painful memories. Despite that, Yakumo had accepted them all.

“Those feelings were precisely the illusion. Humans only think of themselves in the end. Even as they do something for others’ sake, those actions are merely for their own satisfaction.”

“What a pitiful mindset.”

“It’s simply the truth. Are you certain the people around you truly accepted you as a human being? Aren’t they just fulfilling their own satisfaction by pitying you and protecting you?”

“If that were true, they wouldn’t have scolded me to the point of hurting themselves.”

Perhaps Yakumo had been referring to Haruka, who had dumped her emotions onto Yakumo.

“What have you been seeing all this time? Have you become so short-sighted that it made you draw such a naive conclusion?”

“You’re the short-sighted one here.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” said the man with two red eyes. In his voice was a hint of uneasiness.

“You’ve known all along as well, haven’t you?”

“Of what?”

“That you had hope.”

“There’s no such thing as hope. Humanity’s true character is darkness—”

“That’s a lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“If so, then why did you seek revenge?”

“What?”

“I’ve heard about it from Kazue-san. When you first entered the orphanage, you were such an unruly child. You must’ve developed distrust towards humans as your mother had been murdered.”

“...”

“She said you were hurting others, hurting yourself, struggling to regulate your emotions, and even threw a fit of rage.”

“...”

“Shozo-san and Kazue-san struggled to handle you. But they never gave up. Their efforts to look after you weren’t for their sake, rather for your own.”

“Silence!”

“No. I will not stay silent. No matter what, they continued to provide their love for you. One step at a time, your behaviour eventually calmed down and you were able to laugh and play with the other children.”

“I was merely pretending. My heart was filled with hatred and anger.”

“You’re mistaken!”

“What do you know?”

“I know. Thanks to the life you had lived at the Michishirube orphanage, you found the hope to live. At the very least, you trusted Shozo-san and Kazue-san.”

“So what if I did? Even if there was hope, that hope was easily crushed by other people’s ill will.”

The man with red eyes’ words could pierce into one’s heart.

The one place those troubled children could call home had been effortlessly taken away from them. And with it more suffering had followed.

The man with red eyes had to experience abuse at the orphanage he had been transferred to.

He had grown into a twisted character as a result.

“What you just said merely revealed the contradiction in your statement,” said Yakumo with a flat expression.

“What?”

“So this place really gave you hope, after all?”

“The darkness of the human heart had taken it away.”

“I’m saying that was the contradiction."

“What contradiction?”

“Isn’t it strange? If darkness really was humanity’s true character, are you saying that it applied to Shozo-san and Kazue-san as well? If your true character is darkness, then why did you have hope?”

“I don’t have hope!” yelled the man with two red eyes.

It was the first time Haruka had ever seen him show such a raw display of emotion.

“Then, why did you wish to take over my body?”

“To satisfy my desires.”

“A desire may be dark, but at the same time, it is hope as well. You couldn’t throw away your hope to live. Hence even after your death you wanted to take over my body. Am I wrong?”

“A play of words. Did you think you could throw me off with such tricks?”

“No. The truth was, Michishirube had been your backbone. It was there that you had found hope. So you were angered when that place was taken away and sought revenge.”

“You’re wrong. You know nothing,” said the man with red eyes, forming a smile.

However, even Haruka could tell that it was merely a tough act.

“Why did you fail to take over my body? My resistance was a factor, but haven’t you realised for yourself that there was no point in doing this anymore?”

“All I need to do is to try and take over your body once again.”

“There’s no point. Surely you’ve noticed, right? Your existence is dwindling.”

“...”

The man with red eyes grimaced.

As Yakumo had pointed out, Haruka could sense the same thing. The man with red eyes’ existence had weakened compared to before.

Perhaps it was due to the faltering of his heart.

“Please, stop all of this. You should have understood by now. Isn’t that right, Father?”

Yakumo’s line made Haruka hold her breath.

He had just called the man with two red eyes ‘father’.

Yakumo had affirmed his existence; something he had never managed to do all this time.

He understood who he was and accepted all of it. Such preparedness must have been born within Yakumo.

A deafening laugh filled the air, as if shrouding and blocking Yakumo’s resolve.

It was Nanase Miyuki.

She had passed out from Gotou’s beating, but the woman must have woken up at some point.

“What’s so funny?” asked Yakumo.

Nanase Miyuki stopped laughing before staring at Yakumo with a cold gaze. “Did you think he would submit to you if you lectured him with that kind of sob story?”

“I do, that’s why I said it.”

“I’m curious, just how long will you be able to continue bluffing like that?”

“I wasn’t bluffing. I really do think that way.”

“Do you? Alright then, I’ll be taking away the person most important to you next. Will you still be able to say the same thing by that time?” Nanase Miyuki uttered something unpleasant whilst looking at Haruka.

Haruka’s back froze upon receiving such a gaze, filled pitch black with ill intentions.

“You’re the one who’s bluffing. Do you think you can do anything of that sort in the state you’re in?”

Yakumo narrowed his eyes and stood in front of Nanase Miyuki.

Storm filled Haruka’s chest. Nanase Miyuki was handcuffed and couldn’t move as she pleased. Even so, she felt a premonition that something terrible was about to happen.

“I can. I have another backup if my plan doesn't work out,” said Nanase Miyuki as if she had already won.

“Even at this point, you’re still...”

“Just so you know, what I said wasn’t merely a bluff. I have an ace up my sleeve,” said Nanase Miyuki exaggeratedly. She was holding something in her right hand.

Yakumo took notice of the fact and yelled. “Stop!”

Unfortunately, his voice was drowned by the blaring sound of an explosion that shook the ground.

At the same time, a few pipes bursted and large amounts of water came spraying out.

Haruka’s ears rang badly. The explosion had made her lose her balance, she couldn’t tell whether she was still standing upright.

“Get out of here quickly!” shouted Yakumo.

“Miyagawa-san! Please help assist Detective Gotou! I will carry Nao!” Ishii yelled amidst the chaos.

As they scrambled all over the place, water continued to flow and had filled the room to their knees before long.

“Eishin-san, please help Kazue-san,” said Yakumo before approaching Haruka.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s get out of here—”

Yakumo held Haruka’s hand.

Haruka reciprocated, holding his hand tightly so they wouldn’t lose grip. Yakumo then led her treading across the water.

By the time they had reached ground level, they were completely drenched.

Ishii and Makoto stood next to each other, turning their sights towards the apartment building.

Eishin sat next to Kazue who was on her wheelchair.

Meanwhile, Miyagawa peered at Gotou who was hugging Nao tightly, overwhelmed with emotion.

It appeared that all of them made it out safely.

The basement had filled completely with water. Was Nanase Miyuki there still?

No, she must have left.

She had to have done something like that because she had already devised her own escape route.

Suddenly, Nanase Miyuki’s words flashed in Haruka’s mind.

I’ll be taking away the person most important to you next.

Nanase Miyuki had clearly been looking at Haruka’s face as she said that.

In other words, she had hinted at the identity of her next target.

Translation Notes

[1] Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the specific event this scene was referring to. At first I thought I had missed translating it when working on earlier parts of this file (in which the event should happen sometime after Yakumo and Haruka had visited Sayama’s apartment and met with Ishii and Makoto again), but I reread the publication and still couldn’t find it. It’s possible that this section was missed in the JP-ID translation, or it had been omitted when the parts had been compiled and revised to be published as the Japanese volume. With my limited Japanese I can’t really crosscheck this despite having a copy of the Japanese version. I’ll be updating the post if I ever manage to confirm this detail.

[2] This note isn’t referring to one specific line, but I thought at the end of this file I’d clarify one wordplay detail that was lost in translation. In the original Japanese title of this volume, 魂の道標 (Signpost of the Spirit) and the title of this file, the Japanese word used for signpost was 道標 (michishirube), which coincides with the name of the orphanage (as well as the apartment building).

#shinrei tantei yakumo #psychic detective yakumo #saitou yakumo #yakumo saitou #manabu kaminaga #shinrei tantei yakumo translation #psychic detective yakumo translation #english translation #fan translation

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dorminchu · 2 months

Text

Insult to Injury: The Director’s Cut — Chapter 07 [Revised]

a/n: Commissioned illustrations by Daniel Purnama, @addictivities & @marianaillust. This chapter wouldn't go as hard without their awesome work! <3

VII: A MOMENTARY LAPSE OF REASON THAT BINDS A LIFE FOR LIFE

Safin exited the hotel alone. He was staying in a different facility, a few blocks away from all the noise. Yet, even as he put more distance between himself and Swann, he couldn’t bring himself to accept what he’d done as a mistake. If he kept her close, she’d put another bullet in him. Push her away, and she’d find someone less merciful. Perhaps that was his fault. He’d made himself too convenient to discard, and now Swann felt powerful.

As far as Safin was concerned, the culmination of the evening was a means of securing Madeleine’s trust. Deep down, she would concede there was no way out of this so-called honorable life beyond termination, or acceptance of one’s circumstances. Denial bred its own strain of unshakeable commitment. Just as his actions left a stain on her conscience, so too had she percolated his better sense. The woman he’d met in Guinea and the woman in Oslo weren’t disparate. One evolved from the other’s catalyst.

A broad sandy-haired man looked over from across the street, catching his eye, and nodded. Safin continued walking. His destination was on the opposite side of the street, a block past the crosswalk. The man was travelling parallel to him on the other side of the street. When Safin crossed over at the light, as he approached, he kept a hand stowed in his coat pocket. As Safin got close enough to make out the distinctive watch around the man's wrist, the man said, “Do you have the time?”

“James Bond, Universal Exports,” said Safin with a cursory glance. “Or do you still go by Arlington Beech?” The man wasn’t as amicable as he had been a moment before. No doubt he was used to leading the conversations on the back of charisma alone. “It’s been eight years. You should consider a different alias.”

“It’s never been an issue.” 007 studied him. “Zahov, isn’t it?”

Safin exhaled in a plume of steam. “Our business was settled.”

“We were never formally introduced,” 007 said. “I thought this would be prudent.”

Safin said, “If all you want is to talk, find a woman to listen to you.”

007’s lip curled. “I’m afraid tonight is strictly business. Though it’s been terribly dull. So, what’s a man of your profession doing in Norway?”

Safin considered his options. Bluffing could only get him so far. “Medical evaluation.”

“Oh, those are terrible,” 007 said, with a sympathetic half-smile. “Work has been keeping me on a shorter leash. I don’t drink half as much as I used to.” He side-eyed Safin, as though this was meant to break the ice. “It’s been a while since Montenegro. I haven’t thought about it in—damn, it’ll be eight years.” A flicker of remorse crossed his features. Whether it was genuine or practised remained to be seen. “Things seemed much easier, back then. I was willing to give up my future. Honest to God, I’d almost convinced myself I would be happier that way.” He sighed and shook his head. “Hope’s a dangerous thing.”

“Indubitably,” said Safin. “But you still work for the English.”

“For Queen and country. Beats a desk job, though I suppose it’s all the same to you.”

Safin continued walking past the hotel. 007 fell in-line beside him, speaking over the white noise of passing traffic and civilians,

“Word gets around. All of these terrorist attacks, these bombings, the chemical attacks in Africa—I think we’d agree that they’re not exactly coincidental. As would your friend from the clinic. Swann, isn’t it?” 007 lowered his tone. “You didn’t hear this from me, but it’s likely that whoever sponsored the donor gala is fronting for a larger cover-up. Swann might try to run like she did in France. Whether or not she succeeds, all the intel she’s got leaves with her.”

They’d stopped in front of the hotel. “What are you suggesting?”

“We might have a chance at stopping whoever’s been behind those chemical attacks. But that depends on Swann. Obviously, we’d be happy to bring her in and question her. She’ll be relocated, no harm, no foul.”

“Must be a slow day for MI6, if you are doing what is expected of you.” Safin masked the slight tremor in his free hand which he stowed in his pocket, drawn to a fist. Despite his alcoholic tendencies, James Bond was not enfeebled by dioxin poisoning. He had about twenty-to-fifty pounds on Safin and a reputation for killing enemy operatives during field-missions. Unlikely, that it would happen out here. The only loss for SPECTRE would be a spot on Sciarra’s security team and an empty seat at the Palazzo Cadenza. “Yet it seems the loss of your British Treasury agent and SAS have not tempered your insolence. I wonder what will?”

007 scoffed. “I’ve got four hundred and thirty seven days left ‘til retirement. I’m on my best behaviour.” Safin turned about-face towards the hotel doors, as 007 added, “One shouldn’t get discouraged, Zahov. Sexpionage isn’t for everyone.”

Safin stopped mid-stride and looked over to assess what he had heard. He hadn’t been at a loss for words like this since Raoul Silva. As 007’s eyes, arrestingly blue, fixed on his, he experienced that dull unease that came with being outmaneuvered.

“You continue to meddle,” Safin said quietly, “and it has cost you greatly. Perhaps it is time you learnt to cut your losses.”

“You see,” said 007 in a flat voice, “that’s your problem, Zahov. You’ve been talking as if you think it’ll never happen to you.”

Safin smiled, though it didn’t touch his eyes. “One is only as good as his last mistake.”

007 returned to an air of amicability without missing a beat. “I’m willing to learn from mine. Put aside our differences, if it’ll spare more bloodshed.”

Perhaps it was time to start tying up loose ends. 007’s cooperation would come as surely as Vesper Lynd’s. But 007 still had his uses, even if he wouldn’t live to understand the gravity of his contribution. SPECTRE’s battle of attrition with outside parties could not go on forever. A temporary truce was an acceptable alternative to another year of disrupted operations, ending in 007’s clean retirement from MI6. To dismiss the opportunity would be a terrible mistake, indeed.

“I’m listening.”

⁂

By the next morning, Madeleine was going into work, seeing the usual clientele. The world didn’t stop for anyone’s mid-life crisis. It would have been easy, before, to reassure herself that she was in no real danger. The occasional slight from a disgruntled patient was just that. No real harm would ever befall White’s daughter, because she was careful not to overstep her responsibilities. Her upbringing left little room for reflection, but it was the only way she could bear to live with herself.

Ever since coming to Oslo, she had allowed herself to be frozen over. Clients came and left with irregular familiarity. There was a comfort in the façade, of looking the other way, not asking questions. As long as she could separate her secrets from her own work, she’d be able to help others. Putting up a front, not just for her own sake but for the betterment of others. With enough time and patience, she could delude herself into acceptance. Of all the options afforded, this was the lesser evil. Reapplying gauze to the same old wound, as if enough smothering would stop the rot.

Her ordinary colleagues never could grasp the root of her distress, and her father had been distancing himself from his mistakes all her life. Her past relationships weren’t built for longevity. Sure, there was an occasional snag of self-doubt or remorse, but she’d always find a way to assuage it. The men that found her attractive weren’t going to look deeply into her problems. Men like Safin had an emotional range tied to the extent of their control. When he’d tracked her down, following her to the hotel, he made it a point to not coerce or impose. If she told him to leave, she had no doubt that he would. Most people in his position would be asking for a favour. An early clearance, a lesser sentence, as if she wouldn’t have to answer to Kęstutis regardless.

At the end of each day, she’d turn off the lights and close the blinds, and be faced with the same epiphany. Maybe it hadn’t mattered who and what Safin was, at the tango bar, the safehouse, or the hotel in Guinea. He’d given her the truth when her father’s associates refused. To dwell any deeper on her own shortcomings wouldn’t make Klebb’s assignment easier. It was too close to hypocrisy, for her tastes.

By the end of the week, she’d submitted Safin’s evaluation. He should be cleared for work. The next morning, Klebb was in the waiting area. “Dr. Swann,” she said. “I was hoping to speak with you.” Madeleine’s next client was an hour from now. She unlocked her office door, and Klebb invited herself in. The blinds were still drawn from last night. Klebb flicked the light on. “Your personal evaluation of Lyutsifer Safin, what is it?”

Madeleine paused, taking Klebb’s silence as a grant to speak. “He’s pragmatic. He spoke about his job as a purpose, and he has revealed very little about himself in all the time I’ve known him. Even outside of work.” She looked at Klebb. “He followed me, last week, but asked for no favours. He’s not made contact since.”

Klebb nodded. “We’ve provided women before, some of them younger than you. It never worked. He had other ambitions.” Her eyes raked over Madeleine, as one might appraise a prized race-horse. “It seems I have underestimated your competences.”

“Our methods differ.” Refusing to acknowledge Klebb’s statement for what it was, Madeleine walked over to her desk. She wasn’t the first Klebb had spoken to about handling an operative, and she likely wouldn’t be the last. Dealing with snide remarks from the patients was easier to stomach than the notion of her own complicity, but given the alternatives, it was a necessary discomfort. “I doubt he’s going to give you what you’re looking for so easily.”

A cruel twist played on Klebb’s mouth. “There’s no guilt to be had, Doctor. You’ve found an approach. Now it is a matter of assuming control.” She walked up to the desk and grasped Madeleine’s wrist in short, strong fingers, as if to shake her hand. “On behalf of the syndicate, I must acknowledge your achievement.” Madeleine drew away before she thought better of it. Klebb did not rebuke her. “Now that we know what you’re willing to do, the rest should be easy.”

As soon as the door closed, Madeleine took a shaky breath and exhaled too quickly to assuage her hammering heart. She’d assumed Safin would have a history of misconduct. Someone who got a rush out of vigilantism, righting wrongs, would want to play the hero. What better way to ingratiate oneself into her life than as a saviour? A confession he couldn’t excuse, getting in the way of his usual MO, forcing him to overcorrect to the point of vulnerability. He wouldn’t form the same attachment to a stranger, or an obvious foil.

A man in control would never have pursued her to the hotel directly. He would have convinced her that she might be unsafe otherwise. She’d been looking over her shoulder since she was a little girl. There were less dramatic explanations, of course. The client and therapist had a very intimate bond of trust. It wasn’t uncommon, during the process, for some patients to mistake their own feelings of gratitude as infatuation. Whether or not Safin had a history of this conduct, it was a possibility worth considering.

In the back of the filing cabinet were the documents Klebb had left her. Madeleine took out an old photocopy of a dossier from 1985. He would have been six going-on seven. Already she could see it in his eyes, he was no stranger to violence. Without studying him in-person, she could only project Klebb’s words onto the image. Or perhaps she was only noticing what she’d overlooked in the eyes of the adult.

To kill him, at this stage, would be a waste. He’d yet to disappoint her.

⁂

Ernst Stavro Blofeld was having a peaceful afternoon at his home in Morocco. The house itself had been built within the crater’s depths. He’d been coming back here each year, since QUANTUM was dissolved. Solomon, the white blue-eyed Turkish Angora, was his only companion aside from the workers on-site. Construction on the meteorite base was well underway. Once finished, there would be enough rooms to accommodate their latest scheme. A string of apparent terrorist attacks across Europe and Africa would no doubt convince the right world leaders that mass surveillance was an inevitable response to such uncontrollable danger. With the merging of MI5 and MI6, there would be less incentive to rely on field agents, in spite of the drawbacks that came with automation. No solution was perfect, of course. But in time, SPECTRE would be just as much a part of the CNS without the latter knowing the wiser.

Swann’s conduct at the clinic remained acceptable. No serious complaints from her patients or coworkers. Her actions outside of work were more interesting. She’d ignored the mole from the CIA after a few meetings. As an educated guess, she’d treat Safin accordingly—whether or not Safin would keep his distance remained to be seen. Pitting less-disciplined operatives against each other was one of Klebb’s favorite pastimes, a vice Blofeld tolerated for the sake of maintaining an iron grip over the syndicate. Seducing a former patient suggested a level of callousness and or compartmentalization beyond her own father’s ability.

This March, next year, would be James’s last in active service. It was a shame, but a man like James would never have fit in the syndicate anyway. Despite his talents for espionage and conditional empathy, he clung to duty for his country as if it was enough to absolve him. Blofeld could not adhere to such man-made limitations, not as the head of SPECTRE. He and James were destined to lead, while those of lesser stock would fall in line. James had a harder time accepting this fact.

The phone rang. Blofeld picked up.

“Her report was inconclusive.”

“So I’ve heard.” Solomon passed through the room, barely glancing at him. “The evaluation was more of a courtesy.”

“James Bond has infiltrated our operation. He’s made contact with Safin.”

Blofeld nodded. “That’s an interesting development.”

“With all due respect, sir, we have let this side-operation with Swann go on for too long. She is not delivering the results we had hoped for.”

Solomon bumped against his naked ankle. Blofeld reached down to scratch behind the cat’s ears. Dr Swann might not be the hardened operative that Safin was, but she was no fool. “Dr Swann has seen an opportunity you and I have overlooked. That is to be commended.” A strained silence on the other end of the line. Blofeld’s bony shoulders lifted. “It was your decision to bring Safin into her office. If anything changes, she’ll report to Kęstutis as we discussed. Your job is to ensure the good doctor is not killed while her father is alive to witness it. Let Safin dig his own grave.”

Klebb, on the other end, would no doubt be very unhappy about this affront, not only to her mission but to her headship. She was not going to accept defeat by an outsider, let alone this thankless little bitch with no respect for their syndicate. But she’d come around, she was not ruled so closely by emotion. It was why Blofeld had picked her as an advisor.

“Of course, sir.”

“Excellent,” Blofeld clicked off. He looked down at Solomon, who had sequestered himself around his foot. “I think we may have the candidate we’re looking for.”

Solomon mewed, indifferent to anything but attention.

⁂

With one thing and another, the night of the donor gala arrived. On the twenty-fourth floor of the Raddison Blu, Madeleine was getting ready. The double silk georgette gown wasn’t out of her price range, but it wasn’t too expensive to be worn once and discarded. Despite the offer extended on behalf of Klebb to cover costs, Madeleine insisted on buying everything herself. The last thing she needed was to be indebted to anyone from her father’s ilk.

Directly adjacent to her room was Safin’s. Last week, Kęstutis mentioned that he’d been indiscreetly reassigned to her, but nothing more. Safin hadn’t spoken to her since February. Hinx had been chauffeuring her to-and-from work, and to the Raddison Blu, without ever mentioning the change in itinerary. Still, it was in her best interest not to ask too many questions.

The door adjacent to her room opened and closed. “Dr. Swann.” The dark suit jacket and dress pants were closer to a deep purple than black. Under the warm lights, he looked less sickly. A tiny opaque cord attached to an earpiece wound down the side of his neck into his dress shirt. “This event will be crawling with other operatives. It’s best to be cautious.”

She struggled to redirect her thoughts. The lack of unease was becoming its own stressor. “I don’t have much in common with these people aside from sharing a tax bracket.”

“You don’t enjoy yourself?”

“It’s tolerable.” Putting up a front seemed like a pointless expenditure. “I cannot imagine it's as difficult as your own responsibilities.”

“I’m just following through.”

Something was off. His usual detachment wasn’t there. He didn’t have to look at her directly, but even as he scanned the room his attention kept coming back to her. Not stifling or predatory, just—direct. She said, “It seems you still have some reservations.” He turned to look at her, but didn’t elaborate. “All these other times I was followed around by strange men, they would come to the door. They would tail me on the street, but they never followed me to an address.”

“The man you met was a CIA source.” The look in his eyes was sharper. “Were you unaware?”

“I’m aware of what you are.”

His expression was easy to read. Acrimonious, but still in control. “It’s unwise to be so careless, even if you feel you can afford to be.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“A daughter of SPECTRE will always have enemies.”

“I try not to linger on possibilities. It never helps.”

Safin turned as if to leave. His tie was a little loose, uncharacteristic of his usual fastidiousness. Without thinking consciously, Madeleine closed the distance, straightened his tie. He went very still, but didn’t say a word. As she drew back, the expression on his face have been a trick of the light, but it wasn’t mistakable. She said, “Shall we?”

Out the door, down the carpeted hall. The well-dressed man waiting for the elevator caught her eye and smiled. A twinkle in his eyes, electric blue, said he’d be nothing but trouble for whoever caught his interest. “James Bond,” he said. “Retired professional gambler. I’m here on behalf of an old friend.”

“Dr Swann,” said Madeleine. “On behalf of my colleagues in non-profit.” It was difficult to act natural with Safin drilling a hole in the back of her skull with his eyes, but not impossible.

Bond’s attention went to Safin, who merely said, “Security.”

Bond nodded, with the tiniest flicker of emotion in his eyes. The elevator doors opened. A glass entry-point led into the elevator itself. As Bond was saying, “Seems they’ve done some work on the elevators,” his eyes passed over her and Safin. It was not overt. Just a tilt of the head in their direction, but Madeleine was not going to implicate herself any further. “You were in Guinea, last year, wasn’t it?”

Madeleine turned. “Yes.”

“My colleague is an avid supporter of non-profit organisations. She should be downstairs already.”

“I’d be happy to speak with her,” Madeleine said.

Under his ear rested a similar opaque cord. Her stomach lurched with the elevator’s descent, still in the double-digits, as James Bond leant casually along the arm of the cabin. Safin hadn’t looked anywhere but the doors and Bond, briefly.

“Why does a retired gambler find himself at a charity gala?”

“Money,” Bond said simply. “I’ve got enough of it.”

A career chauvinist, perhaps. He wasn’t here to socialise. Madeleine looked at the doors. Past floor nineteen, eighteen. “I haven’t been to one of these events in some time.”

Bond was polite enough to be taken aback. “You seem like you’d fit right in.”

Madeleine forced a scoff. “I can’t remember the last time I actually sat down and talked to someone. If I had that much in common with the people here, I’d start drinking and talk about my real problems. I’d end up in the river by Tuesday.”

Bond smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “And you’ve got a good sense of humour.” Her pulse quickened. A laugh she smothered in her throat with a blithe smile. Down to the single-digits. Madeleine would rather be socializing within a crowd than trapped in this elevator for another minute. “Are you feeling all right?” Bond had the decency to sound concerned, but his eyes were scanning her.

“I’ve never felt better,” she said.

The doors opened. She moved past Bond, into the crowd.

In the ornate women’s bathroom, her hands clenched on the cool marble rim of the sink.

She’d never pictured an existence where she wasn’t constantly looking over her shoulder. This was no different than one of her father’s business parties, sticking to the sidelines. She wouldn’t have to endure the smell of tobacco. She’d make connections that had nothing to do with her father’s ilk, and perhaps say a few words about the horrible tragedy of last year, and no one would be the wiser. They’d call her brave and enduring.

In the mirror she found the woman reflected. The wave of calm she’d felt in Zurich. She wasn’t going to survive the night if she couldn’t pull herself together. She’d always been running on borrowed time. Within her shrinking social circle, all of her closest associates seemed to be criminals in one way or another.

If she was to survive the night, she’d just as well learn to improvise.

The door opened. Madeleine turned on the sink.

“Are you all right?” The dark-haired woman in the black dress might’ve been in her early twenties. She was tall and lithe, could be a dancer or a soldier’s build. Her nails were painted burgundy. Smell of cologne followed in her wake.

“Yes,” said Madeleine, grateful to talk to someone who expressed concern. “Thank you.”

“You’re Dr. Swann, is that right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I understand you’ve met James,” the woman said. “He was just telling me about your charity work. Oh, where are my manners?” She laughed easily. “I’m Paloma.”

⁂

After the dinner, the raffle had been going on for half-an-hour and it seemed pointless to linger when little else was expected of her. Paloma, who seemed eager to socialise but was sympathetic to her plight, elected to go with her.

“I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well,” she said. In the reception hall, Madeleine stopped and said, “Your cologne. Did you change it sometime during the night?”

Paloma chuckled. “I’m not sure what you mean. I didn’t wear any this evening.”

Madeleine forced a polite laugh, feigning embarrassment. Her gaze wandered to Paloma’s hands. The nails weren’t manicured. “It’s been a long night. I must have mistaken you for someone else.”

When they got up to the rooms, there was a tab on the door reserved for housekeeping. “That’s strange. I’m the one that asked for housekeeping.” Paloma glanced at her. “Are you sure it’s your room?” Madeleine shook her head, unlocking the door with her card-key. Paloma said, “It’s all right. I’ll ask downstairs. Maybe there was a mix-up.”

As soon as Madeleine was alone, she unlocked the door with a cold weight behind her navel. In the tall mirror adjacent to the door, Madeleine could see a sliver of light through the cracked bathroom door. She’d turned it off when she left the room. The maid opened the door.

“Oh, excuse me. I wasn’t aware you were coming back.” Her hand shifted on the doorjamb, fingernails painted. She smiled and said, “I’ll just finish straightening out the towels.”

Madeleine nodded. “All right.”

The maid closed the door behind her. She didn’t have any towels with her, or a cart for that matter.

In a haze of calm, Madeleine walked over to the bedside table. She withdrew the Glock. Forced herself to breathe evenly, inching herself towards the wall beside the bathroom door. On the other side of the door, the maid was moving around.

Madeleine grit her jaw, taking aim. Inhaling, holding, exhaling. At this range, she’d hit the woman in the stomach.

All movement on the other side of the door stopped. The door opened.

Madeleine squeezed the trigger. Gunshot permeated the room. The maid staggered backwards. She twisted her body around and her foot caught over the rim of the bathtub. She collided into the wall opposite with a pained grunt, slumped to meet the tile, trailing blood in her wake, unable to brace herself. Madeleine levelled the gun.

“Are you alone?” The maid’s wide eyes snapped up to the gun, then to Madeleine. “If there are others, you must call them off. Or do you want to make this more difficult?”

She took a breath and raised a hand and touched her ear. Her voice carried no suggestion of pain. “Sir. No, I’ve got it under control.”

Madeleine did not lower the gun. She moved over to the cabinet. Opened the drawers, took out a bottle of painkillers, placed it on the edge of the sink. She eyed a bath-towel and tossed it to the woman. She switched into a less-aggressive register. “I have—” no intention of killing you? No, that offered a window for negotiation. She had to establish control. “—a few questions. If you cooperate, I will call someone down to see to your injuries.”

The woman’s eyes were fixed on her. Trickle of blood issued lazily from her mouth, the same colour as her lipstick. The predominant stain from where she’d been shot was seeping onto the white tiles, forming a puddle.

“You must tell me why you are here,” said Madeleine, “so I can phone for help.”

The woman’s lip curled on a laugh. Blood stained her teeth, seeping over her tongue. “Do you know what your friends do to people like me? They’re only ever going to find pieces.”

“If you don’t say anything, it’s likely you will die. You have nothing to lose.” The operative’s eyes flickered to the phone. She muttered something under her breath. “What was that?”

“Oberhauser is who you want.” Madeleine hesitated. “I’ve given you a name,” the operative snapped. “Now make the damn call.”

Madeleine nodded. She took the phone and dialed the number. Waiting, chest tight.

“Stockmann speaking.”

Madeleine froze. She’d heard this voice before. Beginning to weather with age, but unmistakable after all these years. Not since she was young enough to stay home with maman, back when her father was still visiting L’Americain with his family. That gnawing, icy sensation of attempting to outpace the inevitable tightened her chest. She opened her mouth but the words didn’t come as naturally as before. “I—” she cut off, struggling to compose herself, “—I need your help.”

“Dr. Swann,” the voice immediately thawed into sympathy, an expert salesman, “I wasn’t expecting to hear your voice. Is something the matter?”

“There’s—a woman in my bathroom. She’s injured.”

“I see. We’ll send someone up to take care of it.”

“She needs immediate medical attention.”

“Of course,” Blofeld said. “You’ll be escorted out as well. Just sit tight.”

The call ended. The operative had grabbed the towel, putting pressure on her stomach. It was inundated in blood. “How do you know this man?” The woman balked at her. Her eyes darted to the large mirror in front of the sink. Madeleine, despite her own terror, was running out of patience. “I made the call. Now answer—"

“—shut the fuck up,” the woman said through gritted teeth, “right now, or you’re going to get us both killed.”

The wound looked bad. Madeleine grabbed another towel and knelt down on the tile to assist.

“The hell are you—?”

“Don’t move,” Madeleine muttered. The woman did not relax. But she did comply. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“You’re going to ruin your gown,” said the maid, in an incredulous tone. Madeleine ignored her. There was no great shock, no time for the epiphany. All that remained was cold lucidity.

“I’ve never killed a person before,” she said. “Though I almost did.”

The operative hesitated. “Recently?”

“No,” Madeleine said. “I was a little girl.”

Soon enough, the door opened and in walked Hinx. He grabbed the housekeeper off the floor as though she weighed nothing and shoved her into a laundry hamper. As he was about to wheel it out, the door to the adjoining room clicked open. Hinx, with his hands on the rim of the laundry hamper, turned to watch as Safin walked in.

“Sciarra is with the target,” Safin said. “I’ll handle this.”

Hinx nodded, and wheeled the operative out, leaving them alone. Safin glanced at the bathroom, then to Madeleine’s state of dress. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

He looked at her. “You left early.”

“I excused myself,” Madeleine said, careful to avoid any undercurrent of accusation. “There was a mix-up at the front desk. Evidently this woman wasn’t here to refill the soap bottles.”

“She’s alive,” Safin said.

“I’m not a killer.” Madeleine's lip curled into a scowl. “She gave me the name Oberhauser.”

Safin went very still. He seemed to process this, then went along tightly, “For what reason?”

“I told her to call off her friends.” Even without all the pieces, Madeleine was getting closer to what Klebb was after. She had not imagined it would be so simple. She just had to push him a little more. “Oberhauser called the phone and told me someone would take care of it.”

“You were under no authority to ask her for anything.” Lapsing into dangerous quiet, his posture simmering on the edge of violence.

As her heart thrashed against her ribs, she said, “You wouldn't take your eyes off of me all evening. Did you think I would not notice?” He did not answer. Her mouth curled, trembling. “Perhaps you suspected something was amiss.” Goading him into complicity, the same sense of inertia as running across the ice. “You knew that there was an operative hidden among the donors and you were happy to use me as bait. It didn’t matter whether I survived.” Safin held her gaze, the flash of a warning in his eyes. A vindictive sense of satisfaction counteracted by her own entrapment. “Or perhaps you’ve set me up? What, to erase your mistake? I bet it’s not even the first—”

He caught her by the throat, and in two strides she was backed up against the wall.

Grabbing for his wrist for what little it would do, Safin’s expression didn’t change. “The only negotiation,” he said, “is whether or not you are sent back to your father in a box.” The hand around her throat didn’t compress. He turned his mouth into her cheek, and hissed, “Hit me.”

It clicked.

Before Madeleine could act, he grabbing the front of the dress as though it were a shirt-collar, wrenching sharply upward.

The fabric tore. Madeleine decked him. Safin did not flinch. He corralled her by the shoulder, maneuvering them both into the bathroom. He shut the door and let go of her. Walked over to the shower, turned on the hot water.

“You’re in shock,” he said in a flat, deliberate voice. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

He’d torn the gown across her clavicle. She covered herself on reflex, but her mouth trembled anyway. Safin muttered something to himself that wasn't in English.

“Take a shower,” he said curtly, eyes flickering to the mirror behind her. “I’ll be back.”

Madeleine had nothing to lose. She stayed under the shower and let herself be warmed. Eyes on the flawless white tile. Same bottles on the ledge, devoid of blood. The bare skin on her throat tingled. There was no point on which to focus without wandering back to her own lack of agency. You could not lose that which you never had to begin with.

The maid, or operative, had looked at the mirror. There must be something in this room used to transmit audio or video. The only way she and Safin were getting out of this was to play along with what was expected. Klebb, it seemed, would anticipate a scandal.

Madeleine turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. The mirror was fogged over and she could not distinguish a face. Madeleine hit the switch. Overhead fan whirred to life.

⁂

As Safin checked the adjoining room, he was already wasting time. Ostensibly, Blofeld had sent him to take over the operation. This agent posing as a maid was another distraction, no different than the CIA-boyfriend. 007, no doubt livening up the party on floor two, was the real threat, and here Safin was, trapped in another one of Klebb’s tests.

Swann was a good actor, but she had betrayed her own intentions under pressure. Frightened and seeking an escape, it was natural to pin the blame on him. Aside from her father’s presence, her contact with Blofeld was her only insurance. After all, her ignorance was the real reason she’d survived this long. Despite the slip-up, she’d been savvy enough to disarm the operative without killing her, and play along with the ruse. If she remained in the dark about Bond, she had a chance to survive another year unscathed.

This shouldn’t be difficult. Contact Kęstutis before the inevitable call down to Rome, courtesy of Blofeld. He’d explain that there was an attempt on Swann’s life, and it was dispelled without incident. Easy to the point of convenience, which sounded more like a test than a genuine attempt on Swann’s life. With that in mind, Safin circled back to her room. The bathroom door was closed, but the fan was on. A sliver of light crept under the door. He rapped twice, said, “It’s me.”

The door opened. She was covered only in the white towel. Fair hair clung to her face, saturated with water. A tangible shift in her demeanor, from alarm to conviction, a look in her eyes that was ruinous and bright.

She grabbed his lapels. Pressing her mouth over his. Safin didn’t reciprocate, or pull away. She raised a hand to touch his face, side of his neck, as if he were made of something more delicate than flesh and blood. She breathed, “It’s all right,” twisting in his guts more intimately than a knife.

If you leave, her eyes screamed, they will kill me.

If Safin stayed, if he gave even the slightest impression of empathy, he was a dead man. If he walked away, nothing would be suspected, but any intel she possessed would vanish with her. Putting himself in dangerous situations wasn’t his style, but there was a time for exceptions. So it wasn’t much of a debate, letting her pull him into the bathroom. They’d be listening. Not much point looking under the bath towels, the tiny overpriced bottles of shampoo, soap. A hidden microphone could pick up noise within a twenty foot radius. His attention caught, briefly, on the faux-plant on the counter, next to the sink.

Permitting her to lead, divesting him of the suit jacket, setting it aside on the black countertop. Unfastening his tie. He blocked her from the mirror with his body. Svelte. Beautiful in a cold, unyielding sense without implying fragility. She smelled like the hotel soap. Her hair still damp from the shower, one hand furled against his breast. The pulse in her throat fluttered under his palm. She wasn’t looking at him.

When he took her by the chin, he got no reaction beyond a slight intake of breath. Stray droplets of water rolled down her hair and scattered onto his shirt. Her eyes flickered from the mirror to his face in tacit understanding. Their lives depended on their ability to put on a charade.

⁂

James Bond was running out of patience. The raffle wasn’t close to finished. He’d excused himself from the proceedings, to the dismay of the partygoers who were a little too tipsy to register the precise reason for his exit. All the better, as he moved out of the ball-room and into the reception hall. You could only drink so much mineral water without eying the alcohol. He’d learnt his lesson from Montenegro about accepting drinks at a QUANTUM function. Make no mistake about the sponsors, this was, in some way or another, the same crowd and the same intent. Dr. Swann’s role in their scheme wasn’t clear, but Bond was willing to get to the bottom of it.

Paloma was on the way back to the party. “Where’ve you been?” he asked.

“Dr. Swann wasn’t feeling well,” she said. “I went up with her to the twenty-fourth floor, but there was a mix-up with housekeeping. I thought I’d notify someone on-staff before I came back.”

“She must have left early,” Bond muttered, watching Paloma carefully.

“The CPO was around,” Paloma said. “He left a few minutes ago.”

Bond nodded. “To tell you the truth, I’m feeling a bit under-the-weather myself. Give them my regards, won’t you?”

Paloma nodded. “Of course.”

He stepped into the reception hall and touched his ear. “Leiter, I’m starting to think Swann never spoke to your charming protégé.”

“Her tracker is registering her location,” Q said. “She’s on the fifth floor.”

Bond frowned. Unless her Smart Blood tracker had been cut out, it seemed impossible. “Is it possible to change a Smart Blood tracker’s ID?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Leiter added. “I’ll have Q and our boys look into it.”

“I suppose the doctor’s having an interesting night,” Bond muttered.

“Evidently,” Q’s tone suggested he wasn’t in the mood for another one-liner, “but she’s not why you’re here, 007.”

Bond conceded. “Where’s Safin now?”

“He got called off,” Q muttered. “Something tripped an alarm system in one of the rooms on the twenty-fourth floor. Must’ve been installed in-advance.”

“I’d figure the gunshot would have tripped the alarm before your plant.”

“That device was administered to you, 007,” Q added curtly. “I’m curious to know how it ended up where it has.”

“It would seem there’s more than one mole,” Bond said. Everything about this mission had reeked of contrivance from the start. To his knowledge, Paloma hadn’t spoken a word to Swann in-person until tonight. Bond simply fed Madeleine the cover story. “We’re being misdirected.” Bond scowled. The younger field agents had a particularly bad habit of getting side-tracked, or caught unawares. All theoretics and no common sense. He made a beeline towards the elevators. “I’ll make this quick.”

Q said, “Keep the collateral to a minimum.”

“Since you asked nicely,” Bond said, as he punched the button and the elevator doors closed.

⁂

On the fifth floor, the door to the laundry room opened and Hinx wheeled in the hamper. Rosa Klebb was waiting patiently. She caught his eye and nodded. Hinx plunged an arm into the hamper, retrieving the operative by the forearm as if she were no heavier than a child’s doll. She was plunked down into a chair. She looked into the face of Klebb, who did not smile. “It’s good of you to join us.”

“Fuck you!” the operative spat. “That bitch pulled a gun on me!”

“007 is on the move,” Hinx said. “How do you want to handle this?”

Klebb nodded. “You know what to do.”

Hinx left them alone. Emboldened by his departure, the operative unleashed her beleaguerment on Klebb. “This operation is a shitshow.”

“I understand your frustration,” said Klebb patiently. “We are in the process of negotiating a deal with your contact. In the meantime you and I will discuss the details of your transference.” Klebb’s smile was warm, genuine. This was the favorite aspect of her work. “On what grounds do you feel you’ve been mistreated?” The operative fell quiet. “Come now,” Klebb said in a gentler voice, “you’ll find I am not as unfeeling as the man I must answer to. It is in your best interest to speak to me.”

“She’s working for Blofeld,” the operative said, as if not able to convince herself of the statement’s verity. “She asked me if I knew anything about the name.”

“Swann knows only what she is told.” Klebb had a small phone in her hand. “Once we have our verdict, you will be let go.”

⁂

On the twenty-fourth floor, Safin began fixing his pants. He didn’t say anything, or look at her. A repeat of the situation last month. If Klebb assumed this to be weakness, as she was wont to, he could simply play along as expected. Her fate was the same, regardless of whatever sentiment he chose to extend. Such matters were corrigible.

The door to the hotel room opened and shut. Fixing his tie, donning the suit jacket, Safin considered his options. Most likely, Hinx had come back to finish the job. It was also possible 007 had charmed his way into entry. An easy lie about his wife’s misplaced card, a careful smile, and the attendant would overlook his lack of a wedding band.

Swann considered him without verbalization. No different from the therapist in the office.

He turned as if to kiss her jaw, and muttered, “Wait here.” He pulled back.

Nothing had changed in the room itself.

Aside from the knife strapped to his ankle and his wits, he had little to work with. Safin hadn’t been informed that anyone else but Hinx would be here. There was no back-up.

The man on the other side of the door forced it open, grabbing Safin by the lapels and driving his knee into his chest.

007 noted the change of clothes set aside. With a glance back at Safin, he muttered, “Q, you’re never going to believe this.” With his attention on Madeleine, he wasn’t paying full attention to his back. “Doctor Swann.” Madeleine recoiled against the wall.

Safin reached down his leg for the ankle holster. Swann’s eyes darted to him. In the second it took 007 to catch up, Safin was on his feet. He aimed for his neck, but 007 turned around and it caught the meat of his shoulder. A chop to the side of the head and he was on the ground, vision flashing.

“Stay down,” 007 growled, “and don’t fucking move.” He looked over at Madeleine. “I’ll get you out of here.”

“What about him?”

“His friends can decide what to do with him.” 007 gesticulated with the Walther PPK. “Get dressed and we’ll go.”

#nttd #fanfic #fanfiction #james bond 007 #lyutsifer safin #madeleine swann #mr hinx #ernst stavro blofeld #rosa klebb #this is where the fun begins :D

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