"On Tuesday, 10 PM at Nagasaki, a local police officer has been found injured; and confirmed dead. Injuries suggest that this has been from a deliberate murder attempted with a sharp weapon.
The man suffered from two gruesome wounds…One on the neck, and the other located around the liver. The male is identified as thirty six years old, Takamura Hideo. The suspect is nowhere to be seen. Rumor has it that the perpetrator may be the serial killer: 'Black outfit'. However, those are still rumors and yet to be confirmed. Until then, investigations are on the rise.
Watanabe Omori, from 'News in Japan'."
CRACKLE.
Click.
"Another person went down yesterday…" Takehito Katou said. His voice that of concern.. "And he's a police officer," added Kimura, twisting the screws of the engine busily.
"Yeah, apparently some guy was spotted running really fast in the middle of the night—" he spun the chair around boredly. "Close to when the murder happened, apparently. So they're trying to find him for questioning."
"You think he's a part of it?"
"…I mean, he could be. Right? Then again, he could just be a witness."
"You've got a point."
Tokyo Mechanic. A place just conveniently placed in the middle of the bustling city of Tokyo. When the sun shone, the sunlight became the bulbs. And when the night came, it was time for closing. Seemed nothing out of the ordinary from the looks of it; but the mechanic in charge, Kimura Asabe was said to be one of the best around in the city. That's why Katou even visits it around often with his JET-559. A high-performance vehicle with a spoiler
"I gotta say…" Kimura shut the hood close. His gloves covered in char and oil. "I actually wasn't expectin' them to just give you this car right away," he said to Katou. A look of admiration on his face. Katou shook his head, smiling, his arms spread out a little before falling back. "I— I'm just surprised myself. Five hundred grand and here I got it…And this was a private vehicle."
"Not anymore, hm?" he looked around the car for a bit, until something inside grabbed his attention. "And by the way…" he pulled it out from the window, a scabbard…one for a katana. He showed it to the man, "What's this?"
Katou looked at it for a moment before chuckling. "I bought that as I was coming here." He said.
Mr.Kimura's left brow raised. He looked deeply at it curiously, "Oh, really?" he said. Flipping it to the other side, then checking the handle of the sword— no brand name or nothing. "This is one fine sword. Can I keep it?" he asked, although he wasn't expecting the man to say yes.
"Sorry man…You can't." Katou said. "It's fine, wasn't expecting you to say yes anyway." He put the sword back to where it was— on the front passenger seat. Although he had a feeling it was for more use than just decorations, Kimura didn't pay attention to it. He pretended like he didn't at least. "Payment's gonna be around 50,000 yen."
"Sure, expect my assistant to come by." He walked over to the driver's door and entered the car. The engine became awake. It's twin-turbo V8 purring the moment after it did. Mr.Kimura watched as the car slowly backed up, before accelerating to his left into downtown Tokyo.
The car stood out like a foreigner on the streets. A widebody kit that gave it a not-to-be-messed with look. A small wing, with a navy blue coloring all around its general body. Currently Japan's highest performance vehicles ever made— The AT JET-559, going around at atleast 300 MPH despite just how it really looks. Usually the types that'd look smaller and leaner would be the ones with this type of speed, but this one barely looked like a rocket.
HWOOOH…
Someone yawned in the back. Katou's smile extended larger. A kind you'd get when a family or a friend happens to wake up, or come back. His eyes remained sharp on the outside despite that.
A black cover, a blanket— almost camouflaging with the backseat began to move. It was flinching until it began to shrunk, a person's head popped underneath. Then it shrunk again, and the rest of the body appeared half way through. The young man's eyes blinked repeatedly, rubbing one eye with one hand. "What time is it…" he asked, voice dry, he moved the front of his large bob hair a bit, skinny ounces of his forehead revealed. This man was Katsuragi Iwado.
"Uhhhh, 8 AM? Something like that." Katou replied, somewhat unsure himself. "Man, I slept like a baby…" Iwado said, stretching his arms high but accidentally fisting the roof. 'Ow.' He winced pretentiously.
"You sure did." Katou said busily. Iwado asked something more, "So how many miles away are we from Nagasaki?"
Katou hesitated to that question, "…I don't know."
"Awwhh." Iwado sighed like a kid in disappointment. He fumbled around his pants pockets and digged out a simple smart phone from his right one. He leaned his back against the car door, like he's on his bed. Then he began to tap around the screen, searching for a video as he whispered habitually: "J-u-n-g-l-e…e-x-p-l-o-r-a-t-i-o-n...." he tapped again with a slower and heavier force.
Mumbling conversations, foot crunching and birds chirping…all of which came out from the phone.
Iwado was one of those men. Aloof, busy in his mind, but conversable outside. He was like a highschool student still living his nostalgic times in a tall and lean body. A twenty five years old adult that never seem to remain as colorful as those people around Tokyo. He was half gray and half black. Like a shadow that everyone'd ignore, but when approached and being approached by is a normally conversable, chill man with an easygoing attitude for the most part. And that's what Katou guessed he liked him. They were pretty alike.
"You reckon I should own a rabbit one day, Katou?"
"I don't know, man. Don't ask me. Never owned a pet ever since I got reliable."
"My sister owns one…"
"Then ask her,"
"Yeah, good idea."
The car took a right turn. A traffic hung on the busy air as kindergarten kids walked in a disciplined fashion on the cross-walk. Their formation was snake-like, two teachers at front; two males, cheerie adults. It took a couple to almost a minute for them all to pass by. The car continued moving yet again.
"Yo, so like…What're we after for again?" Iwado said, his eyes didn't leave the screen however. His tone still bored. And the sounds from the phone came for a background mix. Katou replied: "We're goin' to Nagasaki then get ourselves comfy. Then the rest I haven't planned yet…"
"You..haven't planned yet?" his eyes still didn't leave the screen. But there was a dark cover of disappointment that shadowed him, even though it didn't belong. "Nope." Katou replied.
Iwado sighed. Sighing like a disappointed teenager hearing that school wasn't canceled for the day. However, the next thing he said after that sigh was only—
"Okay."
This 1500 horsepowered car continued driving, anyway. Eventually, they were reaching for the closest exit point out of Tokyo: the metropolis that appeared to be a really busy capital. Soon enough, they were already out of the invisible borders.
"Y'know, with that sword of yours— are you really sure we're gonna be hunting him down with that thing?" Iwado said. Though his tone was still as casual as mundane.
Katou replied without hesitation, "Yeah, why?"
"Just saying. But what if he brings a gun or something? You can't guarantee he's going to fight close combat."
Katou sighed, shaking his head, "Yeah but, my guy's not really the type to use guns in a sword fight. I know him pretty well." He replied. "If I know Kentaro Arima, I know this guy's not gonna deny a fight like this. Not anytime soon."
It was finally at this moment that Iwado let the video pause and gave a side eye.
"Are you really sure?"
Katou took a moment. Like he was questioning that himself. But deep down, he was already in terms with it. "I'm sure."
And so, the journey continues toward the long, hundred-plus miles to Nagasaki. VANTABLACK was on the move with a motive.
Meanwhile—
9 AM at a local park,
"You got hunted down by a killer?" Eiji said, his voice gravelly. "But the cop on the news was the one who saved you…"
Imura sat quietly beside him on a bench. His back bent deeply towards the ground, his elbows resting on his knees. A veiling his childlike face, his eyes were in-expressively large, staring into the ground without much intent. He nodded.
The older man sighed. He leaned back even more with his arms resting on the back. He stared into the clear sky above just looking at the colors and the clouds. A moment of silence drifted by.
He then pulled out a cigarette packet, took one piece. Then, he nudged Imura with the back of his hand, calling him. Imura turned around and looked:
A cigarette stick was right in front of his face. The hand shook in an insisting offer. "Here," Eiji said, as if this wasn't any offer. He was like a child just looking at it for the first time.
Imura doesn't smoke…
He never did. And he thought he never will. Whenever the thought came, he'd think of what his mother'd say:
'Cigarettes are bad for your health.'
Whenever he was offered, he'd think of that statement. Whenever he was pushed, he'd still think of that statement. It clung to him like an unforgettable companion that'd follow you no matter where you go. But today? But today…
But today,
he was considering it just for today.
'They make you feel calm at first, but always fill your lungs with harmful chemicals. That's why you shouldn't take it.'
'You should never take it.'
"Go on."
Imura softly brushed the hand away, like a son protesting physically against his step-father for the first time. He shook his head while saying: "No…I don't need it."
Eiji looked at him for a moment. His face was dry of any emotions. "Suit yourself," he said. He put the pack aside and brought out a lighter. He lit it, and then began to smoke.
A smoky breath let out into the cold air, blending into the atmosphere as one. "Y'know," Eiji began, "this whole hunt for Wu Sha's got me thinking just what kind of a guy he really is. What kind of a guy is he, really?" he questioned suddenly. Imura didn't answer to that.
"He could be a strong dude with no emotions, or a guy who acts insane all day. You know? Oh, but I heard that he does drugs. So he's probably a little insane." He chuckled, but that didn't seem to move the atmosphere. "What do ya think, kid?"
Quiet. As quiet as the park around them, but an uncomfortable tension lingered around the air for one. Imura flinched but he didn't reply. He didn't need to. He didn't need to express just how he was really feeling, especially in front of someone like Eiji. Someone who personally knows him. All the quiet only ever spoke of horror and trauma he just had to face yesterday. Like a kid who's seen too much, and now the energy to speak all abandoned him.
The air was very cold.
"Tch," Eiji clicked, he hated that silence. "Whatever. I'll skip that question."
He then got up from the wooden bench and stretched his back a little. Before turning around to the young man, inviting him, "C'mon, let's go."
Imura's head climbed up. A visible sense of confusion on his tired looking face. Eiji repeated what he said, let's go. He was telling him to walk around the park, but he didn't feel the energy to. Then like a son listening to his father, he obeyed. Pulling himself back up. Even though he didn't want to, he didn't feel like he had a choice. A choice based on emotions rather another man's desire.
They strolled around mundanely for a bit. An eerie silence casting over for one, and a rather comforting kind for the other. Even if tensions were clearly there.
But strangely enough, when Eiji did talk, he talked about the fish in the ponds, the trees that stood… "When you got jackfruit trees like this in my family, it'd always be a good time for snacktime."
But when even that didn't give any bigger response than a hum, Eiji went silent once again, in the middle of the stroll.
They stopped.
Eiji pivoted and turned. He faced the young man with the face of a military commander. He said, low and seriously, "Y'know kid, I think I've had enough with you." He closed the distance between them slowly. The pressence he had toward the man was like he could swing a slap at any moment. His eyes locked daringly onto the 5'9 younger male, Eiji was two inches shorter. "I've had times myself where I had to watch people die. And so what? I've kept going," he said. "none the less."
Imura stared at him awkwardly. Quietly listening to the old man speak whatever else he had in mind: "Back when I was young, I had to see my kids die, my wife suffer. Had to see my dad died from a gun shot wound, too. I've been through a hard time. But you know what I didn't do?" he paused, letting those words deepen into his brain. "I didn't end up backing down and stay sitting onto the ground. 'Stead, I let myself keep running despite that!" he threw a well-placed but a weak jab onto Imura's heart. "So stop actin' all weak, and wake yourself back up!" Imura stumbled back.
Imura didn't know just how and what to respond to that with, really. He'd heard phrases like this many times…but admittedly they didn't involve deathly circumstances. Circumstances facing grief. There was something left to be desired in those words…something fulfilling. Those words just didn't hit the right way for him. Maybe it would've— had the pain been easier to swallow; but not now. But you know what?
He tried to listen to that. Whatever energy he had remained in him obeyed those last few words: '—and wake yourself back up!' and that all started from a straighter posture, a strong sigh, and then, 'Yes sir!'.
But the energy he let out…it felt regrettably in vain.
Eiji smiled. His eyes wrinkled around the edges. He nodded, placed a hand on a shoulder, and then said, "You know what, kid? Here's what I think you should do."
Then he added something bold.
"That anger that you've got? Use it. Use it to keep ya marchin' on forever." He pointed at his heart this time. Imura looked at where he did, then back at him. He just wasn't getting it fully.
Use…my anger? But how? How do I do that? Those questions begged helplessly on his mind.
"Now I'm not tellin' you to use all of it on me nor anyone else in particular. Use it as much as you need, and then try to finish the job." Eiji continued. "Anger's a strong motivator, y'know? It keeps you goin' and goin' sometimes. Use that to get closer and closer. Closer and closer to Wu Sha. Closer and closer to your and mine's goal." He aimed his own thumb at himself. "So, forget about what happened yesterday. And let's go. You with or nah?"
Anger's a strong motivator he says. Use it to keep going…Whatever that means— "Fine." I just told him that.
And so the next thing he did was make me follow him to a place I didn't know just where.
Nagasaki Bay?
The sea in front was awfully clear. Nothing but a few swans swam by with family on that landscape of water. No boats, no industrial ships. This was the quiet time for any of them to pass by so much. And the two stood before it like two businessmen having a casual conversation and a lookout.
There was definitely something that Eiji wanted to say. But he hadn't done so yet. And so Imura waited. And waited, until he hears something come out of that throat.
'We found out where Wu Sha is.' Is what he said. A tone of finality, and a face unfazed by that revelation. But Imura wasn't.
Eiji continued, his hands tucked underneath his two pockets. "Apparently he's ducked underneath somewhere below ground. Wu Sha's hiding underneath somewhere. But it's not just that he's hiding," he looked at the tired face beside him, "he's also 'operating' wherever he is."
Five months. Five, whole, months. Five months since he's been onto him; about half a year wasted. Half a year, GONE. Half a year SPENT. Mostly trying to find this one man.
This one man who killed two people.
And laughed until the police came to knock. He ran out unnoticed.
His heart began to bleed with words that he himself wouldn't dare to say externally. A dangerous imagination followed beneath the quietness of his gentle looks.
But…is he really ready to face him? After what he went through…
Penetrating fear?
"…Then what should we do?" Imura asked calmly.
"Ain't you gonna ask where he is first?"
"Right…where is he?"
Eiji took another smoke. He lit it. Inhale and then exhale, a breath of smoke mixed with the open and cold air around. His cigarette hung on his hand as he prepared to let out a speech. A reply. A delay to tease Imura. He hung at him with a quiet smirk on his face and hollow-like eyes.
"Nagasaki's basement." He muttered.
Imura hung. But the stare he gave was as expressive enough to speak its language. His eyes wide, jaw hanging slightly— processing just what this man just said. "Nagasaki's basement." He repeated, his head twitched a bit down. "Yup," Eiji replied. "And to get there, you gotta have connections. And we got our connections. The Kurogumi family. They've helped us out."
Imura listened attentively.
"Think of it like the dark web or sorts. However, you just gotta build connections to know rather than figure out a way yourself. Now this basement is a little interesting," he smoked again. Along the way he turned around, facing the sea once more. "Y'see, even though this place can be a lil' small, that's actually what makes it easier for everyone around."
"Because Nagasaki is one of the most under-searched territories when it comes to crime investigation. Anything going on can be as intense as that in Tokyo." He muttered then. Clear white teeth hanging out in the open air as he was done. "So therefore, you can find a'lotta things here." He inhaled once again. Giving Imura some space for silence and thought.
But for what? What thought?
He didn't care about what else was going on. Does he?
No!
Wu Sha's literally right there in front of him. Even when he's not in a literal sense…
HE'S RIGHT THERE.
And he could imagine just how eerily he laughs.
Imura's fists balled to his sides. That's the least he could really show.
"…Sooo, what do we do now?" he then asked. Eiji gave him a side eye. "Oh, we're goin' to go see where he's really at. Soon that is," that excited Imura even more. "First you take a lil' break. Maybe even prepare yourself mentally. The road's still long you know."
A flicker of disappointment came to him for that. "Right." But it was only a flicker. Only…a flicker. This flicker meant nothing compared to the rest of what he felt.
A flicker like that is nothing compared to the abundance of obsession that washed over him like a tsunami.
Imura was about to walk home. "Don't," Eiji simply said. He nudged his chin forward, telling him to look in front. And so he did.
And what did he see?
A boat. White and clear, it was a fancy boat. This one drove into the water, splashing them behind the rear like a trail. There wasn't anyone apart from one person; and that was the driver. But this driver was interesting.
He wore a suit. Black and formal. A white shirt underneath, black pants to carry over his suit's jacket. Freshly styled hair slicked to the back with oil. One hand carried a mark. A scar that looks like it came from a blade. The vehicle came to a stop just beside the bridge, and leaped out this person.
He stood equally as tall as Imura. He walked with a grace aesthetically pleasing to those with power and wealth. A posture straight and confident, but a smile never came even when they all met. A business-orientated looking man with a criminal style look. A scent of perfume coming from wealth, violence and connections.
And of course, Imura knows just who he really is:
Ehara Watou of VANTABLACK. Not just his main employer, but Eiji's as well. And like always, he was intense. Intense enough to calm Imura down. Confuse him as well.
He looked at Eiji slowly, as if Imura never stood there right in front him. "Good to see you, Eiji." He said politely. Eiji nodded with a teethy smile. His head hurled over to Imura then. His hands resting on his hips. "You've made it pretty far out, kid. I'm impressed." He said.
Imura didn't reply, didn't chuckle. Only gave him a smile that he didn't mean. There was nothing he could say.
If there's any small organization with an interestingly large record: VANTABLACK would take the hit on the target very easily. Never has it been a large organization— and Watou admits he doesn't want it to be that way. Because whoever people he has right now…are apparently enough.
"Where's the rest o' the guys at, boss?" Eiji said. Ehara replied, a hand pointing behind himself, "Oh, they're…apparently still pretty far away. Probably gonna take them the whole day."
"Hah. Idiots. And I told them to come by a few days ago, but they just refused."
Ehara didn't take lightly of that.
"I'd prefer it you don't call them that way, Eiji." He said with an eerie calm. Eiji froze. "…Right." His lips pressed over a thin line. A rough silence followed. The peaceful cold turned into a rather tense one just now.
"Anyways, they'll be around somewhere somewhat," Watou broke it. "oh— and— Imura. There's somewhere I need to take you to. It's all part of the plan."
Imura raised a brow slightly, "Where to?"
"Somewhere that requires you to sit on the boat I just brought." Watou replied. "Think of it this way…you're getting a job interview."
"Job interview? Wait, what?"
Two of them hopped on without question. But not Eiji to be exact. Why's that? Imura didn't even know himself.
"You sit tight over there, Imura?" Watou checked. Imura confirmed, "Yeah!"
"Then let's get outta here. And, Mr.Eiji, pleasure doing business with you."
Pleasure doing business? "Yeah, alright." He waved a hand out as the boat began to swim away.
What'd he mean by that?
The boat kept swimming away further and further away from the shorelines. What was left for Eiji was just the quiet silence of the part he's in, and the view of the two travelling afar. Bored, quiet…he really didn't know what to do now.
Until he brought out the radio hidden under his breast pocket when it crackled. "Yeah?" he answered.
"How was the visit around VANTABLACK for all these years, ex-subordinate?"
…
Wh—
The whole world went dark. All in less than a second.
Outsiders screamed. Some panicked. Some came to the shorelines to see. A crowd formed around like a ring or a wall. A sea of people began to emerge. Conversations began to flow chaotically.
Another body. One in the middle of a cold daylight.
Police began to show, pushing through the crowd. Two officers inspected the body, gloves tight around their hands, and while the other few cast the wall a few distances away.
'He's dead…' one said, confirming the horror. There was no sign of a pulse nor breathing.
No one knew what happened. It happened too quickly, too suddenly, too unexpectedly to even comprehend the horror in front of them. A man died, and no one here knew how. That was until— a bleeding spot was discovered. Red blood painted one officer's glove, he tapped around to find it again. It was somewhere around the back of the skull.
And the only thing they could settle to was a bullet wound.
There was someone out there who pulled that shot. Somewhere far, somewhere distant. And whoever that was, did it in secret.
Did it without getting their identity fully known. Somewhere, hiding under the darkness in the middle of this cold, brutal day. Without inching any silhouette for anyone to notice.
Meanwhile, the boat continued to sway its way through the water. Spraying fins of splashes behind itself. A silent ride away— and only one person without any knowledge of what had happened.
"Can I ask you something, Imura?" Watou said loudly, as the chaos of the boat's engine and the water roared. Imura looked at him and said back, "What is it?"
"Would you like to join my organization and officially become a member?"
Imura didn't wait for a second to reply to that. "No." he finalized. "That I can't do."
Watou seemed to smile. "Alright then,"
And so, the conversation ended there for them. It ended for a moment until they reached their destination silently.
Forgetting the person that they just left behind. Imura left unaware.
Unaware of the full extent of the path he just took.