Chapter Text
After heading through a dense forest my squad and I were face to face with a Western-style building. It had a semicircle pediment decorated with a religious motif at the top. It was the only building around, so it had to be their base, Mimic’s base. We’d found a map to it in the pocket of the man who had poisoned himself.
That man, Sakunosuke Oda, told me he didn’t know anything about the group that had targeted his children, but I knew he was lying. Though it did seem like he was a bit shaken up, even if it was hard to tell how he felt, so I don’t blame him for not telling me the full truth.
If I’m correct, this group wanted to rile up Sakunosuke so he’d meet them at the marked spot on the map. I brought with me a police squad to raid the place. I can’t help but think about how Chuuya has always warned me not to get involved with this city's underground, but this is something I can’t ignore. To try and kill five children just to get someone's attention is a crime I can’t overlook. For someone to blindly follow orders like that is sinful. The bullet on my necklace seems to weigh heavier than before in times like these.
I look at my men and nod. I close my eyes as I hear them rush in. There’s gunfire and yelling all around. I only open my eyes when one of the officers comes back to me. He hands me his pistol and nods.
I don’t kill. I’m a detective because detective’s aren’t given guns, but this time is different. The man in charge of this organization is straight from hell. I want to be sure that I’m the one who gets rid of him.
I slowly open the front door and walk inside. Men in cloaks, men a part of the organization, are scattered around. Half of them are bleeding out, the other half are simply motionless. They likely had the same poison that the other man had back at the apartment building. As I walk through the halls I can tell most of their men must have run off, but that’s fine. All I need to do is cut the head off this snake.
I enter a large room with tiled floors, it must have been a ballroom in a past life. Inside I see the back of a man with long silver hair dressed in a ragged black cape.
Without hesitation, I quickly point my pistol at him and shoot, but the man dodged.
“I was disappointed to hear our plans were interrupted by a small-time detective. I was looking forward to dueling Sakunosuke.”
I grit my teeth and shoot again. Once more the man dodges. He turns back at me and glares.
“That’s rude, I was talking to you.”
He whips out two twin pistols in the blink of an eye. I try to look for anywhere I could take cover, but as my eyes glance from pillar to pillar and back to him a loud bang jolts me back.
“Gah!”
Red explodes from my right. I drop a hand from my pistol as pain spreads throughout my arm. It isn’t fatal, I’ll be fine.
I realign my aim with one hand. His pistol stares back at me.
My hand is shaky. I can’t see straight, but I can’t let more people get hurt, more children get hurt. Even if it’s the last thing I do.
Two more shots ring out.
______________
“Detective!”
“Chuuya…”
Chuuya rushed over to Murase, then checked his wounds. He’d been shot twice in the chest, and once in the arm. A vast pool of blood coated the sun soaked tile. The wounds were fatal, and yet Chuuya still vainly tried to put pressure on them with his overcoat to stop the bleeding.
“You’re such a damn moron! The biggest idiot I know!”
“Ha… sorry kid.”
“I told you not to get involved with Port Mafia business!”
“Chuuya.-”
“You didn’t need to die!”
Chuuya’s eyes were wet with welling tears. Murase smiled up with pain.
“I need to tell you something…”
“Don’t. Stop damn it! I might still be able to save you, no no no I will save you. Stop talking-”
“Listen.” The detective wrapped his blood stained hand around Chuuya’s. “When you were sixteen you were set on avenging your friends…”
“Yeah, but what does that have to do with-?”
“You’ll never do it,” Murase said in a murmur. Chuuya gaped at him in shock.
“You need to know that. Whether you're on the side taking lives or the side saving them, nothing will fill the void in you that their deaths left. You will feel that guilt weighing down your soul for eternity.”
That was when Chuuya realized: This man, this detective, understood him more than he could ever possibly imagine— right to his heart and almost to the center of his mind. He hadn’t realized someone knew him so well.
A question welled up his throat with watery tears—something from the deepest part of his heart. His voice broke as he spoke.
“Then detective…what should I do?”
“Choose the side that saves people,” Murase answered. “If neither side can give you the justice your friends deserve, then choose to do good. Save the weak, protect the less fortunate. You might not see the difference between light and dark, but…saving others is just so very wonderful.”
“How do you know?”
“I know. I know it better than anyone in the world.”
Chuuya saw a bright conviction in the man’s dulling eyes.
It was obvious his words had a strong basis in them, perhaps from past experience—Murase was showing Chuuya a path he’d spent his whole life trying to chase. Chuuya knew that.
And that’s why he could believe it.
“...Alright Old Man, I will.”
“I know a place.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out a blood splattered business card. “Here—” He grabbed Chuuya’s hand and gave him the card. “...I wanted to introduce you to the Agency myself.”
Chuuya’s hand trembled as he read the text:
Armed Detective Agency:
Fukuzawa Yukichi
“Why?”
Murase smiled softly as his face slowly paled. “Because they don’t need you there.”
Heavy tears began to roll down Chuuya’s face. With weak arms the detective reached out to hug him, and Chuuya leaned down to hug him back.
“You’ll do great son.”
Murase closed his eyes with a satisfied grin as his body lost all tension.
Chuuya let go and let his body lay to rest. His lips trembled with great effort not to let out any sound.
Nobody said a word.
It was a silence so quiet that Chuuya could hear his own breathing.
So quiet that he could hear the metal click of twin pistols behind him.
Chuuya laid the detective's body down, and then draped his overcoat on top of him. With clenched fists he turned his head to look at the man. Silver hair, empty eyes, and a ragged cape. Mimic’s leader, Gide.
A red glow engulfed Chuuya’s trembling form.
With wide eyes Gide stopped his approach.
He could see a vision flash of his own body crumple behind the weight of gravity.