Sunlight peeked through the blinds of the upstairs study, illuminating motes of dust that danced in the air. Hiroshi closed the door behind Yoshimura and Makima, then motioned for them to take seats around a low wooden table. The study was sparse – just a few chairs, a worn couch under the window, and stacks of old novels and maps on the shelves. Hiroshi hadn't spent much time here; he'd only been at this safehouse a handful of days. Still, it serves as a quiet meeting space now.
Makima chose a straight-backed chair and sat with perfect posture, adjusting a manila folder she had brought with her on the table. Yoshimura lowered himself onto the edge of the couch with a soft grunt, absentmindedly rubbing a knee that likely ached from old field injuries. Hiroshi remained standing for a moment, an old habit of readiness, until Yoshimura gave him a pointed look and patted the couch. "Sit, Hiro," Yoshimura said gently. "We're among friends." Hiroshi managed a faint smile at the paternal nickname and seated himself next to his mentor.
For a moment, none of them spoke. The only sounds were the muffled bustle of the city outside and the soft tick of a clock on the wall. Makima's eyes drifted to the closed door, as if she were considering how to begin. The Makima Hiroshi remembered was always composed, always calculating – the sort of person who would play out a conversation in her head three times over before uttering a word. But there was a tautness to her expression now that made Hiroshi's stomach clench with foreboding.
Finally, Makima broke the silence. "First," she said quietly, her tone composed yet carrying a weight that instantly sharpened the atmosphere, "I have some news. Official and long overdue." She drew a breath, folding her hands carefully over the thick manila folder resting before her. Her amber eyes, usually cool and unreadable, briefly flickered with something resembling dry amusement as they met Hiroshi's attentive gaze. "As of two weeks ago, I've been appointed Director-General of PSIA." She offered a wry smile, but there was little joy in it. "The first woman to hold the position—not that it matters, given the circumstances."
Hiroshi's brow rose sharply in undisguised surprise. He was silent for a long second, processing the sheer scale of Makima's revelation. He had known her as one of the PSIA's most capable and dedicated agents—someone who'd been instrumental in reshaping Japan's intelligence infrastructure. But Director-General? She'd effectively skipped the entirety of senior management. She hadn't simply climbed the ladder; she had vaulted directly to the top, leaving every rung untouched. Struggling to keep his voice calm, he inclined his head respectfully. "Congratulations," he said sincerely, his carefully maintained expression betraying only a fraction of the shock reverberating through his mind.
Yet Makima clearly saw through the effort. Her smile widened slightly, a rare moment of genuine humor flickering in her usually impenetrable eyes. "Come now, Hiro," came Yoshimura's gently amused voice from the side, his worn features softening with a paternal warmth. "We all know you better than that. You can stop hiding your shock."
Makima nodded slightly, her lips quirking upward a bit further, clearly enjoying this fleeting moment of levity amidst the grim news she carried. "He's right, you know. You look like you've seen a ghost."
Finally relenting, Hiroshi exhaled sharply, his carefully cultivated façade breaking completely as he leaned forward incredulously, the disbelief now unmistakable. "Okay, seriously—what the hell, Makima?" His voice pitched upward with genuine astonishment, a frustrated gesture accompanying his words as he waved emphatically toward her. "You didn't just climb the ladder—you skipped the entire damn thing! You jumped straight from Director of the Intelligence Division in the Kanto branch all the way to Director-General? That's practically three decades of promotions!" He stared at her, as if waiting for her to suddenly confess this was all some elaborate joke.
Makima's amusement softened slightly, tempered by the seriousness of the situation. "Sometimes desperate circumstances require unprecedented measures," she replied coolly, though there was clear acknowledgment of the absurdity of her rapid ascent. "There was no one left who could be trusted fully. The agency's upper ranks had become a nest of vipers—too many compromised, too many playing dangerous games." Her voice took on a colder edge, a flicker of righteous anger briefly surfacing. "So, the Prime Minister took drastic action. He needed someone who had proven their dedication beyond doubt. Someone with results, loyalty, and—more importantly—someone willing to clean house. My appointment wasn't just recognition; it was a necessity."
Hiroshi sat back heavily, exhaling a long breath. He couldn't argue with that logic. Makima's integrity and competence were unquestionable; still, the sheer audacity of the move stunned him. Yoshimura, perhaps sensing Hiroshi's lingering disbelief, spoke softly, "She earned it, Hiroshi. After everything that's happened these last few years—after all the leaks, betrayals, and internal politics—Makima has been the only constant, stable presence we've had." His eyes crinkled warmly, pride radiating gently from the elderly mentor. "This was inevitable, even if it happened far sooner than anyone anticipated."
Hiroshi nodded slowly, allowing himself to absorb this properly. "Well, if anyone could leapfrog their way to the top and not completely screw it up, it's you." His voice softened, genuine respect coloring his words. "You deserve it, Makima. Truly."
Makima's smile warmed a fraction at their support, but it quickly fell away. "Thank you. But I wish I came with better news." She opened the folder on the table, revealing a stack of documents – reports stamped with various clearances, some photographs paper-clipped to pages of text. Hiroshi caught a glimpse of one photo and felt his heart drop.