CHAPTER 15
Shinji
Shinji and Teruo walked side by side toward the elevator.
“Earlier,” Teruo said, “I noticed a few officers were staring at you. Are they still giving you shit?”
“They’re not,” Shinji assured him.
Teruo didn’t seem convinced, giving Shinji a sidelong look as he pressed the elevator button.
“They didn’t have a chance to, lately,” Shinji continued. “I’m back to working with you, so…” He shrugged, trailing off.
Between crime scene investigations, trips to the Onmyōryō, and spending time in Teruo’s office going over evidence, he hadn’t had any encounters with officers from other units besides the odd stare now and then.
He wouldn’t admit out loud because he hated sounding like a whining child, but he was glad not to work with them so often. They’d become tiresome.
“Okay,” Teruo said as they stepped inside the elevator. “But if it happens again, you let me know. There’s no excuse for that crap, and I know Yoshida and Horiuchi won’t stand for it either.”
Shinji only nodded, but inside, warmth coursed through him.
He loved Teruo’s protectiveness, even if sometimes it had the opposite effect and made others accuse him of favoritism.
At this point, arguing about it wasn’t productive anymore because, the truth was, they were in a relationship and it was difficult for Teruo not to be biased at all toward him.
The elevator stopped on a different floor, where Commissioner Horiuchi’s office was. He’d been here before, when Assistant Commissioner Ogata called him over to tell him he was out of the homicide unit.
No one lingered in the corridor, and it was eerily quiet. Teruo led the way toward a door with the commissioner’s name on it, and knocked.
“Come in,” Horiuchi’s voice carried through from inside.
Pushing the door open, they stepped into her office. Cold air from the air con engulfed Shinji, and he felt his body relaxing.
Horiuchi sat behind a plain wooden desk, devoid of any personal touch, but full of documents and photographs from their crime scenes.
To her right, there was a short bookshelf only with case files.
The air inside shone with small golden particles from her reiryoku, their warmth subdued by the air con.
Horiuchi was preoccupied with typing something. Her eyes didn’t leave the screen as she said, “Have a seat.”
Teruo settled into a chair in front of her desk first. Shinji reluctantly followed, unsure how to feel about this whole thing. He wondered if she’d touch on the severe rule breaking that he’d done with Teruo. He hoped not.
His spine stiffened as Horiuchi finished and turned to them. Before either of them could speak, she raised a finger. “I want to address the elephant in the room. I know that I’m a person of interest in this investigation, being the current leader of the extractors.”
“Indeed,” Teruo said, folding his arms. “And I’m glad we’re finally speaking about it.”
“I know you’re suspicious of me,” she said toward Teruo. “But I want to assure you, I have no interest in protecting the killer, on the contrary. I became the temporary leader precisely because I want to solve the situation.”
“By hiding information from us and bargaining my life for it?” Teruo asked. “Very interesting way of solving it.”
“That is less about the killer,” Horiuchi said, “and more about the other situation you two created.” Her eyes flicked to Shinji, and he flinched.
“You divulged supernatural secrets to a non-supernatural. You withheld details about his healing powers, got the superintendent in on the secret. Got Kazuya involved, too. Should I go on?”
Shinji swallowed hard. “No, ma’am.” He clenched his fists atop his knees, nails pressing into his skin. Anger and fear rose inside him, but he knew he needed to remain polite. “I didn’t want the chief treated like some object to be studied. So I decided to keep my mouth shut.”
Beside him, Teruo shifted, about to speak, but Horiuchi cut in. “I understand, and that’s not what I intend to do.”
Shinji's hands tightened. “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it, ma’am.
I’ve seen what the Onmyōryō does. The organization treats people like disposable assets.
It’s as if they’re striving for some strange balance of extremes: doing one good thing followed immediately by one horrible thing.
How about the Onmyōryō doesn’t treat us all like suspects and when an actual killer is on the streets, proceeds to ignore them? ”
Horiuchi sighed and leaned forward. “I know the Onmyōryō doesn’t have the best reputation, but for better or for worse, we’re the ones equipped to help the chief.
” She glanced at Teruo, then returned to Shinji.
“I don’t plan to use him as a test subject, but his abilities are worth studying. I won’t deny that.”
Shinji drew a breath, preparing to answer back, hierarchy be damned. But Teruo’s hand wrapped around his fist, and Shinji deflated. He looked at Teruo, whose brows were drawn, and expression pained.
“Sergeant Miyazaki,” Horiuchi said. “Your energy.”
Shinji startled and stared at himself. His reiryoku glowed white around him, pulsing with his anger. A shaky gasp left him and he pushed Teruo’s hand away.
“You need help,” Horiuchi continued. “I can provide it. We can cooperate or you can struggle on your own, but I don’t think you want that.”
Frustration made Shinji’s chest hurt. Fuck, he hated how helpless he felt right now. He couldn’t control himself, couldn’t do anything for Teruo, and had to let the Onmyōryō take the reins or risk killing the man he loved.
“All right.” Shinji nodded reluctantly.
“Now.” Horiuchi tapped her palm against the desk.
“Let’s return to the original motive of your visit: the extractor.
There’s an ongoing scandal back at the Onmyōryō—one I’m trying to contain.
” Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Kichida—the former leader of the extractors—has just recently been fired after the council found out that one of their extractors had gone rogue.”
Shinji’s jaw tightened.
Horiuchi continued, “They’re pissed because they had no idea what was going on until the murders were discovered by the metropolitan police—by non-supernaturals.
That’s why they made me the temporary leader, because I work both here and at the Onmyōryō, and I can supervise things.
And that’s why,” she added, “certain files have been suddenly restricted.”
Of course, as usual, they were preoccupied with secrecy and keeping everything under the control. Their dirty laundry being aired in public was probably killing the councilors. Shinji felt just a slight satisfaction from that fact.
“How did you convince them not to take over the case?” Teruo asked.
Horiuchi let out a dry chuckle and shook her head. “With great difficulty. I told them a team of non-supernatural detectives is better suited.” She shrugged. “They had to accept it because the fact of the matter is: non-supernaturals can’t be hurt. Not by the extraction process, anyway.”
Shinji asked, “Has anything been done to try and stop the extractor?”
“Barely,” Horiuchi said. She hesitated before adding, “They’re afraid. The agents who got killed were powerful and yet…”
For that, Shinji couldn’t blame them. He understood the fear all too well.
Teruo broke the silence. “Good thing you’ve got a few non-supernatural friends now to help you. Reconsider your reluctance toward those like me in the future. Cooperation is better than keeping us at arm’s length.”
Horiuchi tilted her head and smiled. “You’re not wrong.”
Teruo exhaled sharply, sounding like his patience was starting to wear thin. “Okay, so who is the suspect and how did they manage to get past all those seals or wards or whatever you call those things?”
“Well, we’re still investigating the second issue, but the suspect…” Horiuchi opened the drawer and picked up two photographs, pushing them forward on the desk.
They were two women, one seemed to be in her thirties, hair reaching her chest, parted in the middle. The other was a bit older, maybe in her forties.
“Do you suspect it’s a team effort?” Teruo asked.
“We’re not sure. They could be,” Horiuchi said.
“We have these two as suspects because they’re the only ones we can’t account for and who have no alibies.
Our extractors work in shifts and if there’s no extraction happening, they do administrative work which sometimes can take them off site—outside the castle, but with their reiryoku sealed, of course.
” Then she added with a sigh. “Well, not in our case.”
“This was well thought out,” Shinji said. “The victims had days off, so nobody would search for them.”
Horiuchi nodded. “We’re still trying to match the fingerprints you found in Setagaya, but the problem is that the rooms extractors frequent are full of prints from all supernaturals and we don’t have separate fingerprints from each extractor.”
“Big mistake,” Teruo said.
Horiuchi’s eyebrow twitched, but she didn’t reply.
“We have a neighbor who could identify her,” Shinji said. “We’ll show him the picture.”
“I’m loathe to show pictures of our extractors to non-supernaturals,” Horiuchi replied, “but that’s our best chance right now.”
Teruo pulled the photographs closer. “Did you check for any link to the victims? Encounters? Arguments? Intimate relationships that you were unaware of?”
Horiuchi shook her head. “From what we’ve gathered until now, it seems these two and our victims have never met in their life.
” Horiuchi pointed to the photographs. “They’ve had several extractions this year none of them connected to our victims—at a first glance.
They could be connected in ways I didn’t think of. ”
“Let’s get back to the seals,” Teruo said. “Shinji told me they can’t possibly use their powers outside the castle. So how is that happening?”