Joint Crossroads

The hum of the aircraft engines reverberated through the cabin as Kaito leaned back in his seat, staring at the window where clouds rolled endlessly across the sky. Sayuri sat beside him, her hands gripping the armrest, her knuckles white. She hadn’t said much since they boarded the plane, but the weight of the silence between them was almost unbearable.

She broke it at last. “Do you think we’ll make it in time?”

Kaito didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but firm. “We have to.”

Sayuri shifted uneasily in her seat. “I’m scared, Kaito. I keep thinking about Moka, and the others... What if—”

“Don’t.” Kaito’s tone was sharper than he intended, and he glanced at her, softening slightly. “If you let those thoughts take over, you’ll hesitate when it matters most. We can’t afford that.”

She nodded, but her eyes betrayed her doubt. “It’s just... it feels like we’re walking into a trap.”

“We are,” he said bluntly. “But knowing that gives us an advantage. They expect us to falter, to be reckless. We won’t give them that satisfaction.”

The rest of the flight passed in silence, both of them lost in their thoughts.

The announcement came over the intercom as the plane began its descent: “We’ll soon be landing at Saipan International Airport. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened.”

Sayuri exhaled a shaky breath, her grip on the armrest loosening. “We’re almost there.”

Kaito remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he watched the coastline of Saipan come into view, he had avoided the going to Guam first due to Amato’s warning not to bring anyone. The waters sparkled under the sunlight, but he felt no sense of peace.

Once on the ground, they made their way through the modest terminal, the warm tropical air hitting them as they stepped outside. Kaito scanned their surroundings, his senses on high alert.

“There should be a ferry port nearby,” he said, pulling out a map.

Sayuri followed him closely, her gaze darting around. “Do you think anyone’s already watching us?”

“Always assume they are,” Kaito replied, his voice low.

The ferry groaned as it docked, the rhythmic slap of waves against the hull echoing in the otherwise quiet harbor. Kaito stepped off the weathered wooden pier, the tang of salt and faint rot from seaweed filling the air. The town stretched before them, its modest cluster of buildings a testament to endurance rather than ambition.

Sayuri followed, her steps cautious. She glanced around at the peeling paint, rusted signage, and empty streets. “It’s too quiet,” she murmured, her voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves.

Kaito adjusted the strap of his duffel bag and scanned their surroundings, his sharp gaze lingering on darkened windows and shadowed alleys. “Stay alert. We’re not here for sightseeing,” he replied, his voice low and firm.

The streets were narrow, lined with buildings that seemed to have borne the brunt of countless storms, their walls weathered and cracked. Locals moved about at a languid pace, their wary glances lingering on Kaito and Sayuri.

Kaito approached a fruit vendor, his movements deliberate. The vendor, an older man with sun-creased skin, eyed him warily as he stepped closer.

“Excuse me,” Kaito began, pulling out his phone and holding up a photo of Amato Makino. His tone was calm, but his stance exuded quiet authority. “Have you seen this man?”

The vendor squinted at the image, shaking his head slowly. “No, never seen him. But...” He hesitated, glancing around before leaning in slightly. “There’s been strange activity in Mangilao. A building went up there not long ago. Doesn’t make sense—nothing there but locals. Why build something so fancy in a place like that?”

Kaito nodded, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Thank you.”

As they walked away, Sayuri whispered, “Mangilao. That has to be it.”

“It’s a lead,” Kaito replied. His tone remained neutral, but his eyes were sharp, calculating. “But we’ll need more than hearsay to move on it.”

They were about to continue when hurried footsteps sounded behind them. Kaito turned instinctively, his hand brushing the concealed weapon at his side.

The Unexpected Meeting: Kentaro, Hiroshi, and Lucy

“Kaito!” The voice rang out, sharp and urgent, freezing Kaito mid-motion.

Kaito’s hand gripped his weapon instinctively, his body coiled for action, but as the figure emerged from the shadows, recognition dawned. His breath caught.

“Kentaro?” he murmured, his voice a mixture of disbelief and guarded hope.

From behind a crumbling stone wall came Kentaro, Lucy, and Hiroshi. Their faces—older, wearier—held expressions of relief and determination. The years had marked them, but their presence was undeniably familiar, stirring a sense of connection Kaito had long thought severed.

Kentaro grinned, his usual swagger tempered by emotion. “Yeah, it’s me. Long time, huh?”

“What are you doing here?” Kaito demanded, his tone sharp but faltering slightly under the weight of his emotions.

“Relax,” Kentaro said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “We’re here to help.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Kaito said, his eyes narrowing.

Kentaro’s grin faded, replaced by an expression of quiet defiance. “Reina thought otherwise,” he said. “She sent me an email a few days ago. Said you were acting suspicious and she was worried. We followed your trail after that.”

Lucy crossed her arms, her stance unapologetically firm. “And thank God we did. You might be good, Kaito, but even you can’t do this alone.”

Sayuri, who had been watching the exchange silently, stepped forward. “You’re his... friends?” she asked cautiously.

“Teammates,” Hiroshi corrected, his tone even. “And apparently the only ones who care that he’s about to get himself killed.”

Kaito’s jaw clenched as a wave of emotions—relief, frustration, and gratitude—threatened to overwhelm him. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to regain composure. “You don’t know what you want to get into,” he said.

“We know enough,” Kentaro shot back. “You’re fighting something bigger than yourself, and we’re not about to let you do it alone.”

The inn they retreated to was small and dimly lit, the single lamp in the corner casting long shadows across the room’s aged wooden walls. The air smelled faintly of salt and mildew, but it offered privacy—a haven for their tense reunion.

Kaito sat at the edge of the worn bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed as he gathered his thoughts. Across from him, Kentaro, Lucy, and Hiroshi sat on mismatched chairs, their eyes fixed on him. Sayuri hovered by the door, arms crossed, her gaze flitting between them.

For a moment, the only sound was the distant crash of waves against the shore.

Kaito finally spoke, his voice quiet but steady. “Two years ago, I thought I had lost everything. My team, my purpose... my own damn sanity.” He looked up, meeting their eyes. “But it wasn’t just the injury or the fallout from the mission. It goes deeper than that.”

He paused, his hands clenching into fists. “The ones behind it all— The Geheim syndicate, they’re everywhere. They’re the reason my mother...” His voice caught, but he forced himself to continue. “They’re the reason she’s dying.”

The room grew heavier with his words, the gravity of his confession pressing down on them.

Lucy’s eyes widened. “Your mother? What do you mean?”

Kaito exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “The illness... it’s not natural. It was engineered. She was a collateral damage from an experiment by those monsters. And because I’ve sworn to destroy them, they’re targeting my students, my colleagues—anyone who gets in their way.”

Kentaro leaned back, his expression unreadable. “Damn,” he muttered. “That’s... a lot.”

“And you think we’re just going to sit on the sidelines after hearing all that?” Lucy said, her voice rising.

“You should,” Kaito snapped, his eyes flashing. “This isn’t your fight. It’s mine.”

Hiroshi leaned forward, his tone calm but firm. “That’s not how this works, Kaito. We’ve been through too much together to let you shoulder this alone. You might think you’re protecting us, but all you’re doing is shutting us out.”

Sayuri, who had remained silent, stepped closer. “They can help, Kaito. You know they can,” she said, her voice soft but insistent.

Kaito’s gaze flickered between them, the weight of their words breaking through the walls he had built around himself. After a long, tense pause, he sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Fine,” he said finally. “But you follow my lead. No heroics.”

The group gathered around a small, cluttered table inside their dimly lit room at the inn. A map of the area near Mangilao was spread out before them, the location of the mysterious building marked with a red circle. The rest of the terrain, dotted with sparse details, looked like something out of an intelligence report.

Kaito leaned over the map, his fingers tracing the lines as he spoke. “This is where we’ll meet Amato. I’ll approach the building directly. They’ll be watching for anyone trying to sneak in, so I’ll go in first, since I’m their target.” He said, his voice was steady.

Lucy, sitting back with her arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. “And the rest of us?”

“You’ll stay out of sight,” Kaito said, meeting her eyes. “Far enough away to avoid detection, but close enough to act if something goes wrong.”

Hiroshi, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, tapped his fingers on the table. “You’re going in blind, Kaito. We’ll have no idea what’s happening in there unless we get a signal.”

Kaito nodded. “It can’t be helped. They’ll search me for anything obvious. No wires, no comms. If I even try to wear a wire, they’ll know.”

At this, Sayuri, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. “But we still need a way to communicate, right? It’s too risky to go in without a way to know what’s happening”.

Lucy gave Sayuri a knowing smile, pulling out a small, unassuming box from her bag. “Good thing I always come prepared,” Lucy said with a confident grin, opening the box to reveal several simple silver rings. They gleamed faintly in the low light, almost indistinguishable from ordinary jewelry.

Sayuri’s eyes widened slightly as Lucy placed one of the rings on the table. “Are those...?”

“Yep,” Lucy replied, nodding. “Flick your finger like this.” She demonstrated a quick flick of her wrist, the ring sending out an inaudible signal to the others. “It sends a signal. Small enough that it won’t be noticed by anyone—especially the syndicate. We’ll all be wearing them.”

Kaito slipped one onto his finger, testing the signal. “I see. Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Lucy scoffed. “Try genius. This way, we’ll be able to communicate silently and discreetly. And it’s fast.”

Sayuri glanced at Kaito, her eyes searching his face. “We’ll be able to respond quickly if something goes wrong. You’re not alone in this.”

Kaito gave a small nod, acknowledging her words. The weight of the mission hung heavy on his shoulders, but with his team ready, he felt a slight sense of reassurance. “Once I give the signal, Hiroshi, you’ll make your move. You’ll be the one to break through. The entrance will be heavily guarded.”

Hiroshi cracked his knuckles, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “I’ve got this. One shot, and that wall’s coming down.” He patted the handle of his specialized hand cannon, his voice filled with quiet confidence.

Lucy leaned forward, her tone firm. “Once Hiroshi breaks through, we’ll move in and take care of the resistance. We’ll rely on guerrilla tactics—hit them fast, hit them hard, and stay mobile. The syndicate won’t know what hit them.”

Sayuri was quick to add, her voice steady and focused. “I’ll help with the resistance. We don’t know what they’ve got inside, so we need to be ready for anything. We’re all in this together.”

Kaito’s eyes met hers, a flicker of appreciation crossing his expression. “I’ll go after Amato. The rest of you focus on the hostages. They’ll be the priority. I don’t care about the syndicate’s forces, I trust in your ability to handle them.”

“No problem,” Kentaro said, his voice calm, but the hint of a smile playing at his lips. “And if Amato gets in our way, well… let’s just say he’s not gonna have a good day.”

Kaito’s eyes darkened slightly. “That Amato, he’s not walking away this time. I don’t care what it takes.”

Hiroshi grinned. “That’s the Kaito I remember. No hesitation.”

Sayuri turned her gaze back to the map, her hand lightly tracing the paths they would take. “We’ve got a solid plan. But, Kaito… are you sure about this? I mean, you’re going in first, alone. What if they set a trap?”

Kaito paused, considering her words for a moment. “I have to go first. It’s the only way. I’ll give the signal. When I do, you’ll move in fast. No one gets left behind.”

That night, Kaito stood by the window of his room, staring out at the moonlit ocean. Sayuri sat on the bed, her knees drawn to her chest.

“Kaito,” she said softly, “do you ever think about... what happens if we fail?”

“Every day,” he admitted. “But thinking about failure won’t save them. Only action will.”

She hesitated, then asked, “Do you ever wish you could go back? Before all of this?”

Kaito’s lips twitched into a bitter smile. “I do, but this is the reality and there’s no going back. Only forward.”

Sayuri stood and walked to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Whatever happens, I’m with you. Let’s rescue Moka and the others.”

For a moment, he let himself believe her.

The next morning, Kaito dressed in silence. The black long coat hung on the back of the chair, its sleek fabric almost seeming to absorb the light. He slid his arms into the sleeves, adjusting the fit. The weight of it was comforting, almost like armor.

Sayuri watched him from the doorway, her expression a mix of admiration and concern.

“Kaito...” she began, but he cut her off with a glance.

“This isn’t just another mission,” he said, his voice low and resolute. “It’s everything.”

As he turned, the coat billowed behind him, the dramatic tension palpable. The door closed behind him. The mission had begun.