YF had assumed he would come back to the koban to see someone whose shift he was to relieve. But instead he found the bars over his window removed, the screen pushed into the building, the door ajar, and the window still wide open. Most of the things inside had been stolen except for a few office supplies. The terminal had been cut out of the desk and even the security camera was gone — which he never understood since video was typically streamed to a monitoring center in real-time. YF closed the door behind him and sat down at his desk. After staring at the digital clock for a few minutes, he eventually got a message on his receiver from the Itsugo Village Office that detectives were reviewing the footage and that the thieves would be caught.
YF reviewed the surveillance videos sent to his receiver and saw that the thieves were wearing sun-visors and gloves, making it unlikely they had left any identifiable traces behind. Assuming the said “detectives” were YF’s Sentinel colleagues, it was likely the thieves would never get caught. The Village Office informed YF that he was to remain at the koban indefinitely, with extra food and toiletries to be delivered. He was instructed to use the sink for daily washing up to five minutes maximum to be done without a set pattern, and during the day shift if possible. With the robbers having used anti-UV gear and robbed him during the daytime, YF was not sure where the logic was in that. There were no instructions on how much he was allowed to sleep, though with no futon or any other bedding — and ostensibly none to be delivered — it was probably not going to be much anyway.
His plans to go back to the Village Office to investigate what had happened to his father’s business all those years ago would have to be put on hold. Without his desk terminal and generally against scrolling through the news on his small receiver screen, however, there was not much to do other than think about what Takamatsu had said about the blood substitutes and how it tied to the Sentinel Office. YF debated wide-projecting his receiver over his desk, only to realize he had left his charger behind which had been stolen as well, and projection ate too much of the battery.
There was a knock at the door. YF slowly removed his pistol from his waistband, unlocked the desk drawer, and placed it inside. He quickly took out double the daily dose of blood subs and popped them in his mouth, walking over to the sink and turning on the cold tap. YF then brought his head to the side of the stream before turning over until his lips touched the water so that he could drink intermittently and swallow. There was a second knock. YF turned off the water and walked back over to the door, opening it. It was Mizuno.
“Good evening, officer,” he said.
“I’m sure I don’t need to ask how you knew when and where I was.”
Mizuno smiled slightly. “Uwada aniki would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience. I was sent to give the message.” He lowered his hand to his pocket and discreetly pulled out a pack of real cigarettes, keeping it close to his body.
“Let me guess,” said YF, still standing in the doorway. “The Uwada family is now Uwada Enterprises, dealing in strictly legitimate business”.
“Precisely.”
“Does he want me to give my opinion on flavors too?” asked YF while eyeing the pack.
Mizuno ran his fingers through his hair. “Nakajima came to pay his respects first I presume.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” said YF.
“Well you’d best return the gesture before coming to us.”
“I know how this world works, Mizuno. Even if I’m not part of a family— excuse me, enterprise.”
“Forgive any offense Mr. Sakai,” said Mizuno, expressionless. “That is not what I meant.”
“Unfortunately I won’t be returning gestures of any kind. The Village Office has told me I am stuck on duty here until further notice. Even if I wasn't, I don’t plan on making any visits.”
“I see,” said Mizuno.
“You want to have some coffee?” asked YF, motioning with his head toward the descending ramp to the next level below.
“Is that allowed?” asked Mizuno.
“It’s just to the kiosk and back.”
“Sure.”
YF crossed the street with Mizuno, the two of them remaining silent until they reached the ramp.
“Think the suit works better on you than a trenchcoat,” said YF.
“I’m flattered,” Mizuno replied with a slight smile.
“How’s he taking the change?” asked YF.
Mizuno frowned. “Who do you mean?”
“I didn’t want to press the issue back in the warehouse,” said YF, recalling when Mizuno asked him about his marriage. “But I think we’re well beyond that point now.”
Mizuno stopped midway through the ramp. “He preferred me wearing the trenchcoat. But Mr. Sakai,” he started.
YF stepped to the side behind Mizuno to let a woman pass them on the way down. “What?”
Mizuno waited until the woman had reached the lower level and turned into the street. He then took the pack of cigarettes from earlier and placed it deftly into YF’s pocket. “We’re not that close yet. So this is the last I will talk about it for a while.”
“Fine by me.”
YF and Mizuno continued to the cafe kiosk, where YF ordered two concentrated coffees. Mizuno insisted on holding both of them as they walked back to the ramp and ascended it to the upper level. YF crossed the street and made his way to the koban, all the while Mizuno adjusting his pace to match YF’s.
“We can sit over there,” said YF, pointing toward the bushes.
Mizuno walked over to the raised bed and sat down. YF followed him and took a seat.
“It’s interesting, you know,” said YF. “With me a formal officer of the Ward now, and you a legitimate company, you’d assume people would come to me instead of sending their juniors to come fetch me.”
“President Uwada wishes to treat you with the upmost hospitality,” said Mizuno.
“You saying my police box here is a piece of shit?”
“Mr. Sakai, you keep assuming the worst possible interpretations. There is no reason for that.”
“Too much manners for an Itsugo boy,” said YF, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s just drink some coffee.” He took a cup from Mizuno and drank about a fourth of the drink, instantly feeling the buzz.
Mizuno followed suit, sipping his drink carefully.
“What does Uwada want with me, Mizuno?”
“I think it’d be best for him to talk to you directly about that.”
“Like I said before, there is nobody to cover for my shift and even if there were, I would still probably not go,” said YF. “So I need to know now, what he wants.”
“I really do not know,” said Mizuno.
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“Some sort of procedure now? Do I need to visit every family office in Gochome?”
“I can only speak for our group,” said Mizuno.
“While I thank you for all you’ve done for me,” said YF. “You’re not very fun to talk to.”
“I apologize. Would you like me to leave?”
YF glanced at the koban. He was sure there was an outdoor camera somewhere, though he could not find it yet. Even if there wasn’t, he did not want Uwada and Mizuno to get too close to him. The Uwada family could probably piece together some aspects of what the ARC Project was by now, but it would be best not to let them know that YF’s ultimate goal was to take down not just his brother, but the Project itself with him. If they conveyed those intentions to her, she could severely cripple his goals. That Reina was on the opposite side from Hiroyuki was clear. What was not clear was that she was not becoming more and more like him.
YF had read the recent news articles where Reina was frequently becoming the main topic of analysis. Most of it focused on Aoshima Group’s acquisition of Sumida Weapons, Reina’s unexpected effectiveness at leading Aoshima, and Reina’s frequent and lavish parties. It seemed like the people writing about her either did not know about her past and current sectarian activities or they were willfully — or forcibly — omitting it. YF recalled Hiroyuki’s reputation for fixing conflicts and righting wrongs in their high rise subsidized megacomplex community where Eiji, Ken, Saru, Beef, and Mohan also hailed from. From being a champion of the downtrodden to reaching the highest echelons of society, only to use those one used to protect: it seemed Reina and Hiroyuki had much more in common than YF realized. They deserved each other.
“I will leave once I finish this,” said Mizuno.
Refusing to eat or drink while walking. This man really was traditional.
From down the street behind Mizuno, YF could see three men walking toward where they sat. The head of the group and the first to come into view was Higashikuni from the Nakajima family.
Higashikuni stopped in front of the koban door. “So I see that Uwada Enterprises is here to pay their respects as well.”
YF stood up and bowed only very slightly. “It’s good to see you again Mr. Higashikuni.”
Mizuno placed his half finished coffee next to him and stood, his normally cool expression marked by signs of tension. He held his hands to his side and bowed at forty five degrees. “I am called Mizuno. Please take care of me.”
Higashikuni bent his knees and placed his hands on them. “I am called Higashikuni.”
Behind Higashikuni, YF could see that the two men were raring to greet Mizuno with more than just a bow.
“Unfortunately, as I’ve conveyed to my new friend Mr. Mizuno, I can visit neither family office. There is nobody to relieve my shift and the Village has decided I must remain here without sleeping or showering as long as they think necessary,” said YF. “And I am certain the Presidents of your well established enterprises are too busy to see me. Even if they were not, the scent around here is about to get disagreeable.”
Higashikuni looked dissatisfied, rising to a standing position. “Well you must come dine with us the moment someone is available to relieve your shift.”
“If the Magistrate deems it wise,” said YF.
“You consult the Magistrate before you do everything?” asked Higashikuni.
“Do you do things without the knowledge of your aniki?”
“The President knows about things when necessary,” said Higashikuni through gritted
teeth.
“Mr. Higashikuni, I am sure I will have little to do here other than try your President’s fine tea. I can write a report on how the flavors are on top of the other stack of reports everyone makes me do. I will then send it over, how’s that sound? Whether there will be any visits is something you have to take up with the Magistrate. I am not sure what you could get from me that you couldn’t get from talking straight to him anyway.”
“Very well,” said Higashikuni, collecting his composure. “Though I’d like to show Mr. Mizuno the way to his vehicle.”
YF shook his head. “Though I have made my rejections to you both, Mr. Mizuno deserves to waste his time in front of my office the same way you have: uninterrupted. Please be on your way, and send your aniki my regards.”
Higashikuni bowed the conventional way and then continued down the street with his two men falling behind him.
When the three were out of view, YF sat down and picked up his cup with the little bit of coffee left in it, finishing it. He set it down with a loud clap. “Make sure you use your remote parking to move your car. I’d move it to Daimon-doori, or somewhere else with a lot of cameras.”
“I’ll be fine, Mr. Sakai,” said Mizuno, sitting down as well and picking up his cup.
YF tsked in frustration. “You know as well as I do that Nakajima is dangerous. Don’t play strong and just do as I say.”
Mizuno did not reply, merely taking a sip of his coffee.
***
Later that day, a few hours after Mizuno had left, someone from the logistics department — the guy who used to maintain inventory over desks, chairs and the like — showed up to deliver a patrol scooter along with the stack of bentos and toiletries. YF locked up the supplies and immediately hopped on the scooter, running his first patrol up and down the streets of Itsugo Gochome. Whenever he could he stopped to talk to street vendors and small business owners, a welcome change from sitting the whole time in the koban.
For lunch he stopped by at a newly opened udon shop on Daimon-doori. As he ate he noticed the odd looks he received from the local diners. It was not like the residents of Gochome had never seen a police officer before, but for reasons that were obvious they tended to view the uniform with skepticism and animosity. Though he could not confirm it, YF was sure their facial expressions were different from when he was a Sentinel. Should he just scrap the uniform to put the people at ease? But doing something like that would almost certainly destroy any chance of him moving to the Ward Office.
When he stepped out of the udon shop he climbed back on his scooter and started on his way back to the koban. Along the way he saw a man lying with his legs exposed under a bush. YF stopped the bike and climbed off of it, walking slowly toward the man.
“Hello, sir?”
No response.
“Sir?”
YF stepped up until he was right next to the man’s boots and tapped on the sole gently. “Sir?”
YF stepped into the raised bed and brushed aside a few branches of the bush. The man was completely pale, with lips as blue as the Eastern Ocean. YF whipped out his receiver and dialed for the emergency operator. “Dispatch? This is patrolman Itsugo 5-17-1. I have a man in critical condition next to the Aloe Cosmetics store on Daimon-doori.”
“Itsugo Fifth District?” the dispatcher responded.
“Gochome, yes.”
There was a long pause. “Sir, Itsugo Fifth District has just experienced a sectarian incident.”
“Ma’am, Itsugo Fifth District always experiences sectarian incidents. I need an ambulance. Now.”
A notification on the side of his receiver indicated somebody was calling. YF held his thumb over it to reveal that it was Magistrate Kuroda.
“Just send one here,” YF repeated before hanging up on the operator. He picked up the call. “Sir?”
“Ride down to the Silver District and clear the crowd so the ambulances can get through.”
The Silver District was a densely packed cluster of bars.
“What’s going on?” asked YF.
“There’s no time to explain. Get there as fast as you can.”
YF cursed as he stepped off the soil and walked to the bike. He turned on his siren and rode for the arterial road exit, pulling up the ascending ramp to enter the platform level above. As he did, the traffic instantly slowed, with him having to ride along the shoulder to get through, even as most of the vehicles were making way for him to pass. YF then headed for the next exit two li away, pulling into the ascending ramp one more time. As he rose he could already hear the blaring of multiple sirens above as every emergency vehicle in Itsugo rushed toward the Silver District.
YF couldn’t resist turning on the windshield newsfeed, trying to keep most of his attention on maneuvering around traffic as he made his way to the scene. But the various news crews seemed to be blocked from entering the district as well, providing no useful information. YF turned the feed off.
When YF arrived the crowds were still gathered at all the main alley entryways, making it difficult for anyone to get through. He rode onto the pedestrian walkway and found the nearest ascending ramp, making his way toward it while speaking through the megaphone. “Citizens, please make way for emergency vehicles! Citizens, please make way for emergency vehicles!”
People moved out of the way more quickly as he continued to shout into the megaphone, some of them glaring as he passed. When he reached an open space among the buildings, YF looked below to see the grisly scene before him. High energy bolt blasts covered the walls, and at least two dozen bodies were propped upright or laying in various positions in the square. A few people were twitching, barely clinging onto life.
YF pressed the button for his scooter’s megaphone. “Citizens! Please clear the way for emergency vehicles!”
YF could still feel his pistol holstered inside his waistband. He lifted his hand off the throttle for a moment before placing it back on. YF then pressed the continuous horn button, sending a constant blaring noise out through the crowd. The noise had its intended effect, and before long the crowd had generally backed away from the entryways. Not long after, YF could hear the sound of multiple ambulances reaching the alleys and then driving down to the square. When they arrived, the paramedics jumped out the backs of the vehicles and moved quickly to put everyone on stretchers, even the ones who were obviously deceased or very soon to be. YF followed the vehicles along the walkway as the first few ambulances started leaving for the hospital. When he reached the main road and closed the distance between the last ambulance, he turned off his siren.