YF spent the next two weeks running patrols between his koban and Daimon-doori. He made a mental note of visiting Kondo in Yonchome, but decided to delay that trip and continue his official duties for some time to avoid scrutiny. After the first few days his stolen desk terminal was replaced and the window grills installed in such a way that nobody could remove them from outside. His station door also received an outward-opening security door. Another week later, YF made a call to Eiji.
“Koban patrol is pretty fucking nauseating isn’t it?” asked Eiji.
“Not like you had to do it.”
“I mean I did it a week,” said Eiji. He coughed. “It was enough. But what’s up? We’re on the clock.”
“It’s about work, don’t worry,” said YF.
“Shoot.”
“There were some sectarian incidents down in Gochome. I sent a report and they said they’ll send Ward guys down here. Where are they?”
“I’m in Counterintelligence dude.”
“A plaza full of rifle bolts doesn’t count as terrorism?”
“It…could. But not yet. Sectarians with high powered arms is nothing new. Organized Crime would need to take a look before we could do anything.”
“Then where’s Organized Crime?”
“I…have some contacts. One contact. But it’s not like if I call her she’ll take the first westbound train to Itsugo.”
“Call her anyway and tell her to send someone. I need someone from Narcotics too.”
“NCD is even busier than Organized Crime,” said Eiji. “They’ve got to be at least a year behind after the incorporation of the Villages. What happened that you need them for?”
“Somebody overdosed,” YF replied.
“Yeah you won’t see anybody for at least two years.”
“The Organized Crime lady then?”
“I’ll see what I can do, I’ve got to go. See you soon,” said Eiji, hanging up.
Not knowing when Organized Crime would send anybody — if they would send anybody — YF decided he would need to take a small detour in his daily patrol. He locked the front door and walked around to the back of the koban. There, a new exterior scissor door blocked his mini garage. YF pulled out his receiver and pressed a button to retract it. He then used his receiver to raise the garage door, subsequently stepping into the and pulling the police scooter out. After lowering the garage door and redeploying the scissor door, he mounted his scooter and rode out toward the last place he cared to be.
***
YF took another sip of the dark green tea. He had to admit that it tasted quite good. "Why do you suppose an incident where dozens of people are dead is drawing no response from the Ward?" asked YF.
Nakajima folded his arms. “An odd question to ask me. What would I know of that?”
“Division 4 was never so slow to respond before, particularly over such a public firefight with so many dead. Bad for their reputation. My gut tells me either you or Uwada or some other local organization had a hand in the coverup.”
“I don’t catch your meaning,” said Nakajima. “Half the people in Itsugo saw it happen. What coverup?”
“Making the incident go away, Mr. Nakajima. The Ward seems happy enough to let me say what I will about it and write it off.”
Nakajima’s expression didn’t change. “What an accusation.”
“Or perhaps something more subtle. You cause a delay here and there, by the time Division 4 gets down here there won’t be anything left to look at.”
“Division 4 would not need to visit us about anything. We are not criminals,” said Nakajima.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Nakajima stood up, eyes locked onto YF’s. “Mr. Sakai you may be an officer of the peace, but there are protocols we still follow in our great nation. Need I remind you of the deference due an elder? Did such basic instruction escape your mother’s notice?”
YF’s eyes narrowed, his hand reaching toward his chest. “Please don’t speak about what you don’t know. Particularly about my mother.”
The men surrounding Nakajima reached toward their waistbands.
“I have some smokes here I’d like to share,” YF stated loudly, tapping his shirt pocket. He grabbed the pack Mizuno had given him from the top and pulled it out. Nakajima’s men relaxed once they had seen the item.
“I trust one of you has a lighter?” YF stood up and handed Nakajima a cigarette.
“Is this supposed to make up for your insult?” asked Nakajima, hands still at his sides.
“We can at least have a conversation until we’re done.”
“How would that benefit me?”
“If I find nothing — and if you’re so sure that I won’t — I can tell the Ward Office that you’ve been cooperative and there’s nothing to worry about.”
“You established that the Ward doesn’t care.”
“The Ward doesn’t care so long as we don’t give them a reason to care. And since they don’t care yet, I’m still responsible for getting to the bottom of this. Remember Mr. Nakajima, we don’t have to like each other. But we’re stuck with each other for a while. And I take you to be one who keeps things professional.”
Nakajima plucked the cigarette from YF’s hands and before he could bring it to his lips, a subordinate had already held a lighter underneath the end of it with both hands, pulling the wheel. After a few seconds, the subordinate turned toward YF, who quickly pulled out a cigarette and placed it in his mouth before the man could light his as well. Nakajima motioned for YF to follow him to the window while signaling his men to remain where they were. When they reached the window, Nakajima slid the paper screen to the side, inhaling from the end of the cigarette and exhaling out into the evening air, leaving his hand on the sill with the cigarette pointed out.
YF followed suit, though he placed both his arms on the sill and kept his side to Nakajima.
“You haven’t smoked long,” said Nakajima.
“How can you tell?”
Nakajima chuckled. “I can always tell.”
“Let’s get the unpleasant business over with,” said YF. “In the past people had to get friends in the Ward Office to unlock weapons for them,” said YF. “But now any active Sentinel like me could do it. That obviously leads to a proliferation of weapons on the streets.”
“I could see that,” said Nakajima.
“I’m sure there are legitimate concerns from enterprising folks like yourself about the need for protection,” said YF. “But if the arms race escalates, my goal of maintaining peace in this town will remain unrealized. All these weapons are only fanning the flames of war, not putting them out.”
“We’re both from here,” said Nakajima. “I find it interesting an Itsugo boy can still talk of peace decades into living here.”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“The Sentinels used to rarely walk the streets, and if we did so we almost always did it unarmed. Would you advise a patrolman do the same now?”
“I can’t say I could,” said Nakajima. “Though the reasons are more complicated than the proliferation of guns.”
YF chuckled. “I think I catch your meaning.” He closed his eyes and inhaled the fresh, humid air. “I’m sure the National Assembly meant well when they decided to incorporate the Villages. But they sure did disrupt the equilibrium.”
“I know that many of our fellow residents are against the changes but I am not wholly aligned to that sentiment,” said Nakajima. “Fearing change and keeping our heads down was what got the villages into this multi-century mess.”
“What would need to change to fully fix this ‘mess’?”
“Every state employs violence to maintain order,” Nakajima replied. “If people’s lives are miserable and they have no means of emigration, little more than punitive action can keep them in line.”
“So have the Itsugo families decided they are now an arm of the state?” asked YF.
“I never said Mr. Uwada nor I have done anything,” Nakajima reminded. “But I want you to understand that we and perhaps you know the affairs of things in the Villages better than the uppers. The truth is the Ward thinks giving you shiny uniforms and police boxes will turn the Villages into mini versions of the Ward City. But some of us know that you are stretched thin, and Magistrate Kuroda is a well meaning but soft hearted man. If we really want what’s best for the people of the Villages, only speed and force of action will pull us out of our malaise.”
YF glanced down at his cigarette that had turned into a stump. He had barely smoked it.
Nakajima motioned for the same subordinate to bring over an ashtray, which the man brought promptly. Nakajima put out his cigarette, followed shortly by YF.
“It’s something to think about,” said YF, smiling politely.
“It sure is Mr. Sakai. My men will see you off along with a fresh box of tea. Please take it along with my well wishes for our relations to come.”
“Much appreciated,” YF replied.
***
YF had dozed off for some time before he could remember before his receiver rang indicating an unknown number. He picked it up. “Hello?”
“Mr. Sakai?” asked a woman’s voice. “My name is Kita Ayumi.”
“Division 4?”
“Yes, I deal with sectarians.”
“And you’ll come to investigate what happened in the Silver District?”
“Yes, Mr. Sakai.”
“Great,” said YF.
“I may need your assistance to grant me audience with a few of…the locals.”
YF did not like the way she said that word. “You’ve got more firepower than me and they’re probably sending you with a partner. I’m sure you’ll be fine. I have patrols to do.”
“I’m coming alone,” said the woman quickly. “And I’m not worried about protection. I just need you to come with me, for protocol’s sake.”
“Buddy system?”
“Something like that.”
“They can’t spare anyone else at the Ward Office?”
“I assure you they cannot.”
“Meet me at Koban Seventeen in Itsugo,” said YF.
“See you soon, Mr. Sakai.”
***
When the woman from Division 4 arrived YF could tell from a distance that she was a pureblood. Her facial features were sharp and her fangs glistened over blood red lips. Her long hair was wrapped into an elaborate braided bun with a phoenix hair stick shoved through to hold it in place, the stick perfectly level with the ground. In short, she looked completely out of place in a town like Itsugo.
“I am called Kita, please take care of me,” she said upon arrival, folding one hand over the other and bowing.
“Ms. Kita,” said YF with a short return bow.
“Mr. Sakai,” she replied.
“No Sakai-san?” YF asked.
“Not all of us speak in the old ways,” she said with a slight, offended smile. “Perhaps when you get to know a few of us as individuals the hostilities will not be so strong.”
“Maybe when you don’t look at us as pests. Let me guess. Minor family, need to actually work for a living?”
“Huh,” said Kita, feigning amusement. “Your reputation precedes you Mr. Sakai. My cousin met you once before.”
YF suddenly recalled that the detective who had interrogated him during his detention was also named Kita.
“Moreover you have the fragrance of multiple women of prominent houses about you. Rather intimate fragrances, if the strength is anything to go by. A few scents being stronger than others.”
YF looked away and tsked. “Let’s just get on with it and figure this out. I’ll take us to our first stop.”
***
YF tried not to think about Kita holding him tightly as they rode the police scooter toward Itsugo Gochome’s downtown. But the fact that she was so light he hardly noticed her made it hard not to notice her. The first stop they made was to the Uwada family office, much to Uwada’s displeasure.
“There’s no need to be concerned, gentlemen. I need to ask the different organizations in the area what they know about the incident in Silver District,” Kita reassured, placing her messenger bag to the side.
“What makes you think we know anything about that?” asked Uwada.
“I’m just here for a conversation.” Kita retrieved a box from her pack and placed it on the table, removing the top layer to reveal well arranged treats in different compartments. “I also brought some tea from my travels to the east.” She took out a canister of loose leaf oolong, placing it next to the box of desserts. “I trust you have the brewing accessories necessary.”
Uwada’s face scrunched up. “Um…Ma’am,” said Uwada, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not sure where you think this place is. But things are quite a bit different here than the Capital, or even the Ward. Our tea comes from vending machine bottles or is dumped into a metal canister with a cloth sleeve to keep from scalding our hands. Said sleeve was probably knitted together by our mother or sisters ten or fifteen years ago and is falling apart in multiple sections.”
“The way we drink our tea is not too different,” said Kita. “I understand you think I don’t belong here. But I heard that the Villages are very good to their guests. I’m not expecting a welcome party. But I’m sure we can talk amicably.”
“Good to our guests,” Uwada scoffed. “Check the alley dumpsters on an Earthday morning and you’ll see how good we are to each other, let alone guests.”
“But is it not safe to assume that firefights with such weaponry are not normal?” asked Kita.
“It’s not,” said Uwada. “But if you go out to Silver District you’ll find that none of my men were there.”
“What weapons do your organization employ for security?”
“We have what’s legal for private security to carry,” said Uwada. “And the paperwork to back that up if that needs to be produced.”
“You mind if I take a look at those?” asked Kita.
Uwada turned to look at Mizuno.
“I’ll be right back, ma’am,” said Mizuno as he stood up.
“Might not be a bad idea to try some tea,” YF interjected. “It’s after breakfast. People get sleepy.”
Uwada continued scratching his neck before nodding absentmindedly. “Fine fine, your lady friend can brew some and we’ll all try it.”
Kita bowed and stood up, walking off toward the open area of the Uwada Family office. YF looked toward where she was going, figuring that she was searching for the hot water. He decided not to tell her where it was though, to buy him some time to talk to Uwada.
“Did you take care of the stuff?” asked YF.
Uwada glanced at YF, a look of understanding flashing in his eyes. “What stuff?”
“Right,” said YF. “What stuff?” YF thought about the multiple rifles he had unlocked for the Uwada family for their raid in the wasteland. It wouldn’t be good for him if Kita somehow found those. “And none of the brothers here have visited Silver District recently.”
Uwada looked very displeased. “No,” he said emphatically.
YF tried to read whether he was lying or not, but he couldn’t tell. “Fair enough.”
When Kita returned with the tea she kneeled down next to Uwada and presented a metal cup with a knitted sleeve in front of him. She then returned to the seat next to YF, placing a cup in front of him as well. “I’ve had some before arriving in town,” she said with a polite smile.
Uwada looked at her for a long, silent moment. He glanced down at the sleeve.
“I knitted these myself, Mr. Uwada,” said Kita. “I’m certain they are not of high quality compared to those made by your female relations. Though I hope in the circumstances they will do.”
Uwada raised the tea to his lips without replying. After taking a sip, his eyes brightened.
“The hills in the east are good for tea,” said Kita.
“Even I know that,” said Uwada.
“My apologies. I shouldn’t have patronized,” said Kita.
Uwada swirled the cup’s contents a few times before pointing at Kita. “Ms. Kita you can search the premises to your heart’s content. Though I assure you you will find nothing implicating us in the Silver District incident. If you need any further comment, please speak to my representative Mr. Mizuno. He is well briefed on all my affairs.”
“I will do that,” said Kita, bowing with her head as she sat. She turned to YF. “I think it best that we take our leave. We have a busy schedule for the rest of the day, don’t we?”
“I’m sure we do,” said YF.
The two of them stood up and bowed to Uwada and Mizuno, who had just returned with the firearm paperwork. Kita took the folder with two hands and bowed a second time. She tucked the folder under her arm. “I’m sure we will be in touch shortly,” said Kita with another one of her polite smiles.
“Certainly,” said Mizuno with a low bow.