"Someone's probably talking about me again…"
Fujino grabbed a napkin from the side, wiping away nonexistent snot, grumbling to himself inwardly.
"Fujino, my boy, bundle up," Megure Juzo, sitting beside him in his usual brown trench coat, turned and advised. "It's getting chilly lately. Make sure to layer up."
"Yeah, the weather's been all over the place," Sato Miwako, seated across in a white blouse, nodded. "A lot of people have been catching colds."
"Exactly," Megure agreed, though his concern was mostly for Fujino.
In his mind, Fujino always seemed to wear the same suit. It used to be a bit thicker, but now it looked too thin for the weather, maybe with just a light coat thrown over it. *This kid's too frugal… Does he only own two outfits?* Megure's nose tingled with a fatherly pang.
"My immune system's pretty solid. Colds don't stand a chance," Fujino said with a grin, brushing it off. "Just had an itchy nose, that's all."
Colds? With his current constitution, they were a non-issue. He could probably wrestle a bear shirtless in a blizzard and be fine.
Glancing around, Fujino took in the scene. The gathering was in a private room at an izakaya, attended not just by the Criminal Affairs Division but officers from other departments too. It was easy to tell them apart: the ones not drinking were detectives. Those with drinks? Definitely not detectives.
It made sense. In Mihama, murder cases popped up nonstop. If a detective got drunk off-duty and a case came up, it'd be a mess. Even after hours, they stayed sober, ready to return to duty at a moment's notice. It wasn't a rule, just an unspoken professional code.
The Third Division folks followed it diligently. As for why other departments were here, blame Miyamoto Yumi. Without steady, married officers like Megure around, her "friendly get-together" would've turned into a full-on singles mixer.
Fujino recognized a few faces, like Miyamoto Yumi and her Traffic Department colleagues. He recalled that some of these colleagues would later fall victim to Aoyama-sensei's plot-killing pen… Being a cop was risky business. Without his system, Fujino figured he'd have been toast by now.
"Sato-keiji, you should stay warm too," Shiratori, sitting across in a sharp suit, seized the moment to play the attentive gentleman.
"Absolutely, a cold would be trouble," Takagi chimed in, nodding eagerly, though a beat slower than Shiratori.
Just as the two were about to vie for Sato's attention, a commotion erupted nearby.
"Haah!" *Bam!*
Miyamoto Yumi slammed her beer mug on the long table, her cheeks flushed, voice dripping with resentment. "What '125,' what 'Fujiwara Tofu Shop'—go to hell!"
Sato's ears perked up, and she shifted topics. "By the way, Yumi, still haven't caught those guys?"
"It's not that I haven't caught them…" Yumi leaned against Sato, whining. "That jerk hasn't shown up since he ditched me last time! I can't catch him if he doesn't appear!"
"Alright, Yumi," Yagi Shiori, a Traffic Department officer with a long black ponytail and a瓜子-shaped face, patted her shoulder. "Isn't it better if he doesn't show up?"
"But Shiori…" Yumi pouted, unwilling to let it go. "That guy provoked us! I won't rest until his license is revoked and he's locked up!"
"Even if you ran into him, you couldn't catch him," another Traffic officer, a plump woman with short brown bangs, took a swig of beer, grumbling. "That guy's AE86 must have an F1 engine or something. Floors it and hits a hundred in no time. Our little Panda cars can't keep up."
"Sigh…" Yumi groaned. "Those old fogies at the top are so stingy. Can't they lend us the highway patrol cars?"
"No use," Yagi Shiori said, shaking her head. "Those guys treat their sports cars like precious babies. We'd never get them. Plus, in Tokyo's traffic, even a patrol car wouldn't help."
Yumi knew her colleagues were right but was still miffed. "Ugh, if I catch that guy on the street, I'll teach him a lesson and have Miwako lock him up!"
Sato blinked, unimpressed. "Why are you so obsessed with catching him? Besides speeding, has he committed any serious crimes?"
"Uh…" Yumi faltered. "Well, besides speeding, he hasn't really done anything else."
"Then I can't help you," Sato said, chuckling. "Unless he's committed murder or kidnapping—something in the penal code—I've got nothing to work with."
"Miwako~" Yumi whined, playing the sympathy card. "Guys who speed like that must've hit someone! You gotta investigate!"
"Fine, fine…" Sato nodded indulgently, humoring her drunk friend. By tomorrow's mahjong game, Yumi would probably forget all about it.
Fujino: "…"
As the guy who'd supposedly get a beating, his brow twitched. *So speeding automatically means I've killed someone?* As a seasoned driver, he'd never hit anyone. What kind of logic was that?
Still, he hadn't gone joyriding lately. Who knew his absence would mess with these cops' heads? Maybe he'd take the car out tomorrow for a spin, just to rile them up.
---
At Araide Hospital, the sound of running water persisted.
Belmod shook her head, lost in thought. Her theory was just a guess based on the intel she had. The Zoo Organization was Gin's problem, and she couldn't overstep without cause. There was no solid evidence of a middleman skimming profits, and digging deeper wasn't justified—not yet.
To get more intel, she'd need to trade with Gin, which she wasn't keen on. This mess didn't involve her. Even if things escalated, the fallout wouldn't reach her. At worst, Gin would have to pull extra shifts, take a few bullets, and "contribute" more to the Organization.
The real issue was: Who had that woman? And who was the bat-masked guy? What faction did he belong to? Those were the priorities. But chasing those leads would likely bring her face-to-face with that middleman…
Belmod's thoughts tangled. She stood up from the bath, water droplets splashing onto the bubbles. Running a hand through her smooth blonde hair, she pressed her forehead.
It felt like an invisible hand was orchestrating everything.
---
The next day was still a holiday.
Fujino stared at his phone's calendar, lost in thought. *Okay, yesterday was Saturday, and today's… also Saturday? This weekend's dragging on…* Well, not literally the same day, just another Saturday.
*Ding-a-ling!*
His phone lit up with an incoming call from an unknown number. Judging by the digits, it was from a payphone.
Fujino pondered briefly before answering. A woman's voice came through, soft and mature, with a steady, refined tone—likely middle-aged. "Is this Fujino Detective Agency?"
"You've got the right place," Fujino replied.
Her voice was pleasant, but he wasn't about to judge her personality or looks. Plenty of people with nice voices turned out to be… less than charming. What mattered was the job. Since she was calling the agency, she was probably a client.
With that in mind, he asked, "Do you have a case you'd like me to investigate?"
"Yes, exactly," the elegant voice paused before continuing. "I have a friend I desperately want to see again, but it's been years, and I've lost all contact information."
"A missing person case, then," Fujino said, already familiar with these. "Do you have a photo of the person and their name?"
"I do," she said calmly. "His name is Shibata Shiro, and I have his photo."
"Great. If you have time, you could stop by my agency to discuss the details," Fujino suggested, thinking this sounded straightforward. With a name and photo, he could call Megure and dig up the guy's entire family tree.
"Can't we meet today?" Her voice wavered slightly, sounding troubled.
"I'm free, but it depends on your schedule," Fujino replied.
"Oh, I see. Actually, I'm already near your agency. It'd be a hassle if we couldn't meet," she said.
"You're here already?" Fujino was taken aback but kept his tone even. "In that case, let's meet to go over the clues and the commission fee."
"Wonderful," the woman said, standing in a phone booth. Relieved at securing a meeting, she murmured, "It would've been a pain if we couldn't meet today."
Her gaze locked onto the detective agency nearby. "I wonder what those two are like…"
---
At Fujino Detective Agency, after learning the client was on her way, Fujino slipped into his suit and headed to the second-floor office to prepare. He set out a teapot, organized files, and tidied the sofa in one smooth motion.
*Ding-dong!*
The doorbell chimed. Fujino turned. "Come in!"
The door opened, and a woman radiating an aristocratic aura stepped inside. Her skin was fair, her short brown hair tied up elegantly. She carried a small bag, dressed in a deep purple kimono with a white inner layer, a red obi, and a loose black raincoat. Her feet, in white tabi socks, stepped lightly in geta sandals.
By all accounts, she was a beauty—though her hairstyle was a bit of a miss, still just enough to qualify as stunning.
"Hello, Fujino-sensei. I'm Ikenami, the one who called earlier," she said, bowing slightly with impeccable manners. "A friend recommended you as the best for finding people, so I came by unannounced."
Fujino: "…"
He stared at her, a touch speechless. *Why does she seem familiar?*
Snapping out of it, he took a deep breath and returned the courtesy. "Since you were referred by a friend, I'm happy to help. Please, come in."
"Pardon the intrusion," Ikenami said, nodding as she curiously surveyed the room.
The sleek layout, spotless floors, modern sofa, and clean ashtray—no smoke in the air—stood in stark contrast to the grimy detective offices she'd imagined. This place felt… comfortable. No, more like modern and professional. She half-wondered if this was really a high school detective's office or some corporate lounge.
"Have a seat," Fujino said, guiding her to the sofa and pouring a cup of black tea. "We touched on it over the phone, but I need to confirm the details and reason for finding this person."
"Of course," Ikenami said, sipping the tea. "The person I'm looking for was a classmate from high school. We were both in the kendo club. He moved away before graduation, so his address wasn't in the alumni records."
"Got it," Fujino nodded, then looked at her directly. "Pardon the question, but are you married?"
"Huh?" Ikenami froze, caught off guard.
"It's just that…" Fujino gestured to her hand. "Your hand's bandaged, so I can't tell if you're wearing a ring. If you're married, taking this case could stir up unnecessary trouble."
"I see," Ikenami said, her eyes narrowing as she noted his sharp observation. After a moment, she replied, "I'm not married, actually. This injury's from last night—I was cooking and cut myself. It's been a while since I handled a knife."
"Is that so?" Fujino studied her hand quietly.
*This lady, something's off about you!*
She was clearly married but claimed otherwise. If that wasn't suspicious, what was? As for how he knew she was married…
The bandage was a ruse, as fake as iced tea. The real deal was Hattori Heiji's mom!
What "Ikenami"? She was clearly a Hattori!