Kazawa didn't resist as Amuro Tōru's hand rested gently on his head.
"Sorry, they said… sorry." Kazawa buried his face deeper into his palms. "...Liars."
The words weren't very specific, but Amuro calmly stroked Kazawa's hair, analyzing the situation.
It was possible Kazawa's parents had some kind of secret code, a hidden account, or scheduled messages between them and Kazawa.
The contact frequency probably wasn't very high, otherwise Kazawa would have reacted months earlier. The messages were likely short, not physical items, because Kazawa originally had no plans to go out — his outing was a sudden decision after someone invited him.
Calls, emails, texts, social media… Kazawa's parents were under long-term Organization control, and the exact location of their research facility was hard to track. If the communication was operated by them, it would not have escaped Organization surveillance. Whoever operated it must have a way to know about their safety...
In summary: Kazawa's parents had a secret contact inside the Organization.
Amuro's violet-gray eyes flickered with sharp light.
"They're not coming back." Kazawa's voice was muffled by his hands around his face — heavy and suffocating. "I knew it. I should've known long ago."
"Last time you told me your parents were working overseas. Is their work dangerous? Why do you think something happened to them?" Amuro bent down slightly, trying to read Kazawa's expression.
Kazawa's eyes were tightly shut beneath his hands, his eyelashes trembling from the pressure, seemingly trying to hold back tears. "They're both scholars, but their work… is dangerous. Very dangerous."
Kazawa knew. At least he knew his parents had been coerced.
No, maybe even further—Kazawa's parents weren't like Shiho Miyano, scientists trained by the Organization. They had attracted the Organization's attention because of their research project itself, unknowingly falling into the web, slowly stuck, tangled, and eventually trapped.
Before being controlled by the Organization, Kazawa had lived beside them for ten years. As the Organization judged, he must hold something even more crucial.
Amuro knew he should continue to coax Kazawa gently. He should say some fake comforting words in a calm tone, like "Don't overthink," "Don't lose hope without definite news," or "Don't be too nervous." Then by denying his parents' death, he could push the pressure building inside Kazawa to completely break or explode, and gain more information from his outburst.
But seeing Kazawa's fingertips pressing hard on his face, Amuro hesitated and sighed, "Kazawa, I told you, if you ever have any difficulties, you can tell me."
He could have used colder methods to extract what he wanted. But to exploit a boy's grief, to trigger his carefully hidden pain—that would be too despicable.
After all, Kazawa was just an unlucky kid who lost his family.
He was not facing criminals in the Organization. Using those tactics on Kazawa was disgraceful.
Kazawa raised his head from his hands, his tear-filled eyes showing a faint surprise as he looked at Amuro.
...Was Amuro's moral line just too flexible? Or was the "red side" of this world truly a little more conscientious?
From Kazawa's experience, when facing a completely vulnerable and emotionally chaotic target, one should build a more oppressive, seemingly friendly but unchallengeable authority. By listening and approving, stabilize control, then suppress and deny some of the target's views, to establish a more unequal dialogue.
In this top-down gaze, the other person is easier to control and yields the most reliable information.
Kazawa had been preparing for an emotional outburst climax, but Amuro suddenly relaxed control of the topic, nearly causing Kazawa to lose character and break the emotional flow.
...Don't switch scripts arbitrarily!
But Kazawa's mind shifted quickly. He pressed his lips tightly, then with a knowing look, he gazed at Amuro and asked, "Any difficulties?"
Amuro was caught off guard by that look, but continued comforting: "Don't worry about telling others your troubles. Even if no one can help, just saying it is better than keeping it inside."
So kind-hearted, undercover sir. That just revealed your role in this matter, didn't it?
Kazawa then looked down at his own hands, trembling slightly, wet with tears.
"I'm scared, Amuro-san. The worst nightmare has come true." He clasped his hands tightly, trying to stop his shaking fingers, finally voicing what had been stuck in his throat: "They said they would come back. When we meet again, I'll be a grown-up. But they also said… if they can't come back… I have to run away as fast as possible, as far as possible."
"Amuro-san…" Kazawa's eyes filled with sorrow, his light blue eyes dimmed. "But I already… don't have a chance to run, right?"
Kazawa was indeed a very smart kid.
His question was full of deep despair and made Amuro realize his earlier hesitation was a lost opportunity.
He didn't use dismissive tactics to crush Kazawa's emotions, revealing that he felt sympathy for Kazawa's situation.
Kazawa keenly sensed this sympathy and uncovered part of the truth—that "Amuro Tōru knew about Kazawa's parents' death."
Going further, Amuro's role was indeed Kazawa's protector. After all, a prison guard was responsible for the prisoner's safety.
Kazawa's fear wasn't just from hearing the news of his parents' deaths, but from fearing Amuro himself.
"Yes." Amuro didn't try to reverse this image and stood up straight again. "I'm sorry."
Further conversation shouldn't happen in the café—too many people and too noisy. Amuro had to stop for now.
He watched Kazawa lower his head helplessly once more, exposing his unguarded neck again—like a death row prisoner waiting for the guillotine.
"What's going on with you two?" Their voices were low. Enomoto Azusa didn't hear the details but noticed Kazawa's worsening mood as he nearly collapsed on the table, worriedly approaching to ask.
"Nothing, Miss Enomoto." Amuro put on a professional smile. "Kazawa is just feeling unwell and in a bad mood."
He patted Kazawa's shoulder, but the boy shuddered at the touch. Amuro pointed upstairs. "Relax, Kazawa. It's okay. Go rest upstairs first. After closing, we'll have a proper talk."
"Okay." Kazawa lowered his head, made no resistance, and slowly went up to the loft.
Amuro watched his slumped shoulders with concern. Though he hadn't broken Kazawa's defenses with coaxing, the fact Amuro was surveilling him still dealt a blow, draining his spirit.
Amuro felt unjust. He approached Kazawa as Bourbon, but never treated Kazawa as a target in Bourbon's usual cold way.
Now, even if he admitted no ill intent, Kazawa would hardly believe him. Hopefully Kazawa would calm down and understand that later.
Dragging his feet up the stairs, Kazawa lifted his head. There was no trace of despair or pain on his face.
"That whole thing pretending to be Ai Haibara was actually kinda convincing," Kazawa muttered to himself while rubbing his face.
Just now, to increase emotional tension, he had slapped his own cheek until it actually hurt a little.
Following Ai Haibara's usual self-abandonment behavior logic, he showed a tendency to give up struggling and close his eyes to wait for death. The very conscience of Bourbon apparently decided to give him some small cards to play with so the victim wouldn't be scared to death for doing nothing.
And to prepare for tonight's talk—
Kazawa reached into his commuter bag and pulled out a laptop.
He had just bought it on the way back. After realizing how seriously his parents' academic skills mattered, Kazawa had to quickly figure out what exactly they were researching.
He looked down at his bag, reaching for a small storage card.