Harumi's Secret, Part II

Harumi closed her eyes briefly, collecting her thoughts. "The day of the raid came faster than any of us expected. Each team departed separately, aiming to avoid suspicion. My team was assigned the Yamanashi Prefecture, we began our search from around the Akadake Cirque, a rugged area. Even from the air, the terrain was daunting—steep valleys and dense forests that could hide anything."

She opened her eyes, her expression tense. "The perpetrators knew what they were doing. The location was chosen to disorient aerial scouts. From above, it looked like just another stretch of wilderness. We had to fly low, scanning every shadow, every unusual formation, to find something that didn’t belong."

Kaito leaned forward, absorbed in her every word.

"We combed the area for hours, moving carefully along the ridges and valleys. Just as I was beginning to wonder if this was another dead end, one of the soldiers called out. He’d spotted something—a strange opening nestled against the Cliffside. It looked like a natural cave at first glance, but the smooth edges and faint metallic glint near the entrance told a different story. It was man-made."

She hesitated, her tone darkening. "We knew we had to investigate. The opening was barely wide enough to walk through, and the dim light inside didn’t let us see far. Sato and Okabe volunteered to check it out while the rest of us stayed back, weapons ready, keeping watch from above."

Harumi’s voice grew quieter. "We watched as they stepped inside, their forms swallowed by the shadows. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then—"

She paused, the memory clearly painful. "Gunshots. Two sharp cracks, echoing out of the tunnel. The sound hit us like a hammer. Something had happened inside, and we had no idea what."

Harumi’s gaze turned grim as she continued her story. “The moment we heard the gunshots, we knew we couldn’t afford hesitation. I ordered part of the team to remain outside. If this went wrong—and there was a high chance it would—we needed someone to call for reinforcements or stop anyone trying to escape.”

She leaned back slightly, her voice steady but heavy. “The rest of us advanced into the tunnel. It didn’t take long to realize what we were dealing with. The entrance had been artificial, but it led into an old, abandoned maze of mining tunnels. It was pitch-black inside, the air heavy with dampness and decay.”

Her brow furrowed. “The confined space meant we couldn’t rely on flight. The narrow, twisting passages made it impossible to hover or maneuver effectively. We were grounded. Every step echoed, making it feel like we were being followed by shadows.”

Kaito stayed silent, his eyes fixed on his mother, trying to picture the scene she was painting.

“As we moved deeper, I began to feel it—the tension in the air, the sense that we weren’t alone. An ambush was coming. The enemy wouldn’t have let us get this far without resistance otherwise.”

Her voice lowered. “And I was right. They came at us from the shadows—silent and precise, aiming to take us out before we even realized they were there. But it was anticipated. The moment the first shot was fired, we were ready.”

She paused, her tone sharpening. “I placed someone in charge of the battle. His task was to hold the line and keep the team safe. Meanwhile, I took three others and followed the path the ambushers had come from. If they were trying to stop us from advancing, it meant there was something ahead they didn’t want us to find.”

Harumi’s expression darkened further. “As we pressed on, the tunnels became narrower, the air colder. Every corner we turned felt like it could lead us into another ambush. But I wasn’t about to stop. Whatever they were hiding, I was determined to find it.”

Harumi’s voice trembled slightly as she recounted the next part, though her tone remained steady enough to convey the grimness of her experience.

"We pushed deeper into the tunnels, putting down resistance as it came. They weren’t well-trained soldiers, but their desperation made them unpredictable. Each time we incapacitated one of them, we used gravity locks to secure their limbs, pinning them to the ground ensuring that they couldn’t escape”.

She clenched her fists, her knuckles whitening as she continued. “Every step brought us closer to the truth. The faint hum of machinery began to echo through the tunnels, faint but unmistakable. We were getting close. And then... we found it.”

Her voice wavered for a brief second before hardening. “At first, it was just a door. A cold, metallic thing embedded in the wall of what had once been a mining shaft. It looked out of place, almost too sterile compared to the grimy, ancient rock surrounding it. I gave the signal to breach, and when we opened it...”

She stopped, her jaw tightening, and Kaito noticed her fingers trembling slightly before she clenched them into fists.

“It was a nightmare,” she finally said. “Inside, there were cells—rows and rows of them, carved into the walls. Each one barely big enough for a human to lie down. People were crammed inside like animals. No, worse than animals. They were stripped of their humanity.”

Harumi’s voice broke for a moment. “Some of them were starved to the point where their bones jutted out against their skin. Others were covered in bruises, their faces blank, devoid of life. It was as if they’d given up on the idea of being saved. Their eyes... their eyes weren’t just lifeless—they were haunting, like they’d already accepted death as their only escape.”

Kaito felt a chill run down his spine as she spoke, the raw emotion in her words painting a harrowing picture.

“Those bastards...” Harumi spat, her voice filled with icy rage. “How could they be so inhumane? How could they do this to innocent people?” She slammed her hand down on the table beside her, the sharp sound cutting through the heavy silence. “I won’t let them get away with this. Not after what they’ve done. They’ll pay. I swear they’ll pay.”

She drew in a deep breath, the fire in her eyes not dimming. “I didn’t care what their reasons were—science, profit, power. Nothing could justify this level of cruelty. I ordered the others to start freeing the captives immediately while we secured the area.”

Harumi’s expression darkened further. “But I knew this was just the beginning. Whatever was happening here, the answers we needed weren’t in this room. They were somewhere deeper in that twisted labyrinth.”

Harumi’s voice lowered, steady but weighted with emotion. “After ordering the soldiers with me to release the captives, I radioed the other teams. We’d found them—the hostages. I was telling them to converge when it happened.”

She paused, her hands clenching as she stared at the floor. “A gunshot rang out, cutting through the air. One of my men, Private Takagi, collapsed in front of me. Blood pooled at my feet before I even realized what had happened.”

Kaito’s breath hitched, his knuckles whitening.

“I froze, and before I could react, I felt it—a gun pressed to the back of my head. A voice, calm and deliberate, whispered, ‘Don’t move, Captain, or everyone here dies.’”

Her gaze sharpened, her tone laced with anger. “Whoever they were, they knew exactly what they were doing. They weren’t afraid, not even a little.”

Kaito said nothing, but his fists clenched at his sides, the weight of her words filling the room with silence.

Harumi exhaled slowly, raising her hands as instructed, the cold steel of the gun pressed against her head. She paused, her voice catching slightly as she narrated to Kaito.

“It’s strange,” she said, her gaze distant, “in moments like that, time slows down. You think about what could go wrong, who might die because of your next move... but you also notice everything. His stance, his breathing, the way he reached for his radio…”

Kaito leaned forward, his brows furrowed. “You realized he was alone?”

She nodded. “It was a gamble, but I couldn’t afford to wait. When I saw him distracted, I made my move.”

Harumi’s voice grew sharper as she described the moment. “I grabbed his wrist, twisted it, and forced him to the ground before he could react. The soldiers with me froze for a second, but I didn’t give them time to hesitate. I ordered them to stay with the victims and secure the area.”

She paused, rubbing her temple as if reliving the tension. “He struggled, of course, but I got him handcuffed. That’s when I demanded answers.”

“And?” Kaito asked, his voice taut.

Harumi sighed. “At first, he refused to talk, but I made it clear I wasn’t playing games. He finally caved. He told me about a lab deeper in the tunnels—the place where the experiments were conducted. His tone… the way he hesitated, it was like he didn’t even want to think about what happened there.”

Harumi’s voice lowered as she continued her narration, the tension in her words palpable.

“I pressed the barrel of my gun against his temple and asked him who was in charge. At first, he laughed, thinking I wouldn’t follow through, but after a little persuasion, he spilled everything. He wasn’t brave—just another coward working for something bigger than himself. He told me the lab was deeper in, beyond a heavily secured door.”

Kaito listened intently as Harumi’s expression darkened.

“I handed him over to the others, told them to stay with the hostages, and went in alone. I had to see it with my own eyes. When I finally reached the place, there were men stationed outside—a group of them standing in front of a steel door. The air was thick, and the silence was unnerving. One of them spotted me and smirked.”

She paused, her voice dropping to mimic the man’s tone.

“‘I can’t believe you made it this far,’ he said. ‘You government dogs are really tenacious.’”

Kaito’s brow furrowed. “And you said?”

Harumi’s lips tightened. “‘Sorry, I didn’t come here to chat. You’d better tell me who’s in charge, and maybe your punishment won’t be so severe.’”

Kaito’s jaw clenched. “And his response?”

Her expression grew grim. “‘You don’t seem to understand the position you’re in.’”

Harumi’s lips tightened as she recounted the memory. “I told him, ‘Sorry, I didn’t come here to chat. You’d better tell me who’s in charge, and maybe your punishment won’t be so severe.’”

She paused, her expression hardening. “Then I fixed my gaze on him and demanded, ‘What is this place? Why did you people do this? What’s your goal?’”

Her voice grew colder as she continued. “He gave this dry chuckle. And he said, ‘Even if you knew, it wouldn’t change anything.’”

Kaito leaned forward, his brow furrowing. “What did you do?”

“I snapped at him,” Harumi admitted, her voice unwavering. “‘Answer me!’ I said.” She let out a bitter breath. “Then he said, ‘Whatever. Indulge me, soldier. What do you think will happen if your ability to walk, to talk, to move… was stripped from you?’”

She shook her head slightly, as if still trying to make sense of his words. “It didn’t make any sense at first. I narrowed my eyes and asked, ‘What are you talking about?’”

Her gaze met Kaito’s, fierce with the memory. “He said, ‘The things you call God-given—your freedom. What if they weren’t so free? What if everything you take for granted could be… reclaimed?’”

Harumi continued, her voice dropping. “I demanded, ‘What are you implying?’, “He smirked. Then he said, ‘Tell me—do you think flight is something humans were meant to have? To soar through the skies like birds, defying the limits of nature? Do you think it should be without a cost?’”

Kaito’s brows furrowed, and he leaned forward slightly. “What did you say to that?”

“I demanded answers,” Harumi replied, her voice steady but tinged with lingering anger. “‘What cost? What are you talking about?’ I asked him.” She paused, her jaw tightening at the memory. “He replied ‘The freedom you hold so dear—it’s a lie. Flight isn’t liberation; it’s control. What do you think happens when someone seizes that control? When they can turn your greatest strength into your ultimate weakness?’”

She shook her head, frustration clear on her face. “‘You’re playing God,’ I told him. ‘Experimenting on innocent people to prove some twisted point? Is that what this is about?’”

Kaito’s jaw clenched. “And his response?”

Harumi’s eyes narrowed, her tone cold and sharp. “‘God? No, we’re far more pragmatic than that,’ he said. ‘This is evolution, soldier. Adaptation. The question isn’t whether we should fly—it’s who should decide who gets to fly.’”

Kaito sat back, his expression grim. “And what did you do?”

“I couldn’t let him keep spewing his nonsense without a fight,” Harumi said, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. “‘You think you have the right to make that choice?’ I demanded. ‘To rob people of their lives and their dignity just to satisfy your delusions of power?’”

She paused, taking a breath to steady herself. “He just laughed, like I was some naive rookie. ‘Rob?’ he said. ‘No, no. I’m offering them something greater—a purpose. After all, isn’t sacrifice the foundation of progress?’”

Harumi’s fists tightened in her lap, her knuckles white. “‘You’re not offering progress,’ I told him. ‘You’re spreading misery. You’re no better than monsters.’”

She glanced at Kaito, her eyes fierce. “He didn’t even flinch. He grinned and said, ‘Monsters, you say? Then what does that make you, soldier? A savior? A hero? No. You’re just another cog in the machine, chasing orders without knowing who truly pulls the strings.’”

Her voice dropped to a venomous growl as she recounted her final words to him. “‘You cruel bastard,’ I hissed. ‘You won’t get away with this.’”

Kaito exhaled slowly, the weight of her story settling heavily between them.

She exhaled sharply. “Then suddenly. The ceiling above us creaked, and a massive aircraft descended into view, hovering just above the ground. It was sleek, black, and unlike anything I’d ever seen. The man looked at me, smug as ever, and said, ‘Sorry, I won’t get to chat with you much longer.’”

Kaito leaned forward, hanging onto every word.

“I glanced back at him,” Harumi continued, “and saw the gun in his hand, pointed straight at me. ‘Don’t try to follow us,’ he said. Then, as the others flew up to the craft, he followed them but kept his eyes on me, grinning, daring me to make a move.”

“And you?” Kaito asked quietly.

Harumi’s gaze hardened. “I couldn’t move at first, but then, images of the hostages flashed through my mind. Their bruised bodies, their hollow eyes... How could I call myself a soldier if I let these monsters escape? I clenched my fists and said to myself, Not today.”

She paused, the memory heavy in her voice. “I launched myself forward, flying straight at him at full speed, determined to take him down before he could pull the trigger. But as I approached, he smirked and said, ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’”

Harumi’s voice faltered for a moment. “Then, he shot me. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and as I fell, the caves below erupted into flames. The explosion was deafening. The heat and force hurled me far into the mountains. I crashed by a stream and lost consciousness.”

She exhaled, her voice softening. “When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The doctor said I’d be okay. The explosion didn’t affect me directly, and the shot wasn’t from a conventional bullet. They couldn’t identify what it was, but they told me to come in for regular checkups… just in case.”

“And the others?” Kaito asked, his voice filled with concern.

“One of the soldiers—a woman—came into my room. She ran to my bedside, tears in her eyes, and told me the hostages were safe. The explosion happened after they’d been rescued and that I was found later by one of the soldiers. She didn’t know what caused it, but it was over.”

Harumi leaned back, her face weary.

Kaito stayed silent for a moment before asking, “Do you remember anything distinct about the man who shot you?”

Harumi’s brow furrowed. “I can’t say for sure… Wait.” She snapped her fingers, her eyes narrowing as she searched her memory. “He had a tag on the shoulder of his uniform. It said Black Wing.”

Kaito froze, his mind racing. “Black Wing,” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

“That’s all I remember,” Harumi said, her voice trembling slightly. “Do you know something about it, Kaito?”

Kaito shook his head, masking his emotions. “No,” he lied. “But I’ll look into it.”

Harumi nodded slowly, her exhaustion evident. “I trust you, Kaito. Just... don’t do anything reckless.”

Kaito stood, his expression unreadable. “Thank you for telling me, Mom. I think you need to rest now. I’ll handle the rest.”