Ch.002 – Thither here – 04

The day when Renji is detained, another team of police came to WaraGyo too for clarification, usually quiet restaurant was now filled with a few people, but they were not there to eat. After hearing what actually happened, Tetsuo hurried through his restaurant like a panicked man chasing a missed train, while snatched a few documents from behind the register.

“No time, no time—!!”

He nearly tripped over in front of the door after locking it, ready to sprint toward the nearest station. But just as he’s about to sprint off, a sleek black sedan pulled up with a whisper-soft brake right in front of him.

Tetsuo stopped on his track as the rear door opened, a familiar woman to him stepped out.

“Good evening, Mr. Tetsuo.”

“Ah—Miss Reika. I, uh… I’m sorry, but now’s really not a good time. I need to go to the police station. It’s about my—”

“I think now, exactly, is a good time.”

As Reika stepped closer, the driver’s door opened as well. Another one appeared. A woman taller, with a long ponytail and a sharp-cold gaze.

“Ah, Miss Shira… you too?” Tetsuo gave an anxious bow, out of reflex.

“For now,” Reika said with that composed air of hers, “let’s talk inside. It’s about your part-timer.”

“Yeah… he got arrested right in front of your building, huh…”

“It caused quite a commotion.”

“… I- I’m sorry…” Tetsuo’s shoulders dropped, then turned back and unlocked the restaurant door he just locked earlier.

The place was quiet inside, the old lightbulbs straining to hold off the dusk. Typical scent of cheap oil and flour still clung faintly to the air. Reika took a seat on one of the cracked plastic chairs, while Shira chooses to remain standing while handing over a clear envelope containing a photo and a few printed documents to Tetsuo, then she asks with an interrogating tone out of habit.

“This man is your part timer, right—Renji Tohara?”

“Y-Yeah. He has, for a long time, actually…”

“A long time? It's only been weeks since he started delivering orders to my office instead of you. I assume he’s working with you just recently.”

“Well… technically no, Miss Reika. He’s been helping me out for nearly a year – since spring last year, 2023. So, way before the first time you’ve started ordering food from me.”

“He left, then returned?”

“Right… but not quite… He didn’t quit. I’m the one who nudged him toward another job… Uhhh… something closer to his dream.”

“Dream…?” Reika muttered the word under her breath, it was foreign on her tongue. Her eyes drifted for a second.

“Y’know… The kid want to become a writer, maybe get into film or something one day.” Tetsuo chuckled, almost embarrassed. “So around the end of last year, I pulled some strings. Got him a spot at a local TV station… figured it’d be better for him in the long run.”

Reika said nothing, while Shira watched intently.

“Even when he was still working for me at that time, he never complained about the low salary,” Tetsuo continued with softer voice. “Even when he was dead tired. I always wished I could do more for him, so… that was the least I could do…”

“Did he stay in contact with you while he was away?” Shira asks without any hint of sentiment.

“Just a phone call from time to time. He can’t visit, and I didn’t ask him too… the place was too far in the next city, and it seems they worked him hard already.”

Reika tilted her head, as if finally back to reality. “I don't understand. So why is he here again then?”

“That… I don’t really know yet. But wait—hold on…” He tapped his fingers against the counter, recollection dawning in his eyes. “… About a month ago… I think you two were here too.”

“What do you mean?” Reika asked, both her and Shira raise their eyes at Tetsuo.

“That time, that morning. You both came in for breakfast last month, remember?”

Shira and Reika exchanged a glance, brows tightening in sync, then. “Ah…”

Tetsuo nodded as the memory returned in full. “You saw that too, right? He showed up at the front door. Looked as if he’s better off dead…”

“Now that you mention it...” Reika muttered, while piecing her faint memories about the exact moment that almost lost forever.

“He can’t explain it to me yet, but… He said he quit the station. Just like that. He’ll tell me sometimes, he said.”

“Any chance it was drug-related?” Without missing a beat, Shira asks the heart of the matter.

“I really don’t think so, I mean, I know that kind of industry’s got shady corners… but by the impression, the kid quit because of something more… personal...”

Tetsuo looked down at the photo of Renji on the table inside the clear folder. “He’s a good kid. Really… I know I got no proof, but if it means anything to you…” He looked at the women’s eyes, straight and unyielding. “I believe he’s not guilty. Please believe me.”

Shira turned to Reika, they didn’t say a word. But their eyes locked—something unspoken passing between them.

“Then, do you know anything else about him—before all that?” Shira presses on while clearing her dried throat.

“You mean before he started working at my place last year?”

“Yes.”

“Before he landed the job here, he was bouncing between all sorts of part-time work—cleaning, cashier, paper delivery, waiter, vegetables cutter, garbage truck driver, you name it. The kid always got pushed around. Eventually, his court-appointed guardian linked him to me.”

“Court-appointed guardian?” Reika asked with hint of curiosity.

“Yeah… That part… not in your file, huh?” Tetsuo glanced down at the envelope on the table and re-read it once and twice. “Says here he entered the child welfare system at fourteen. What it doesn’t say is that, once he turned eighteen, one of the officers helped him to land a job... said he has to function as an adult in society somehow.”

“I see…” Reika’s voice trailed off.

“Let’s get the timeline straight, then,” Shira said, with a tired sigh. “So—March 2023 was the first time he worked here, at WaraGyo. Then December 2023, you connected him to a TV station job. He stayed there until he came back to this place, November 2024, which is last month?”

“That’s exactly what happened,” He nodded with surety.

“And you’re really sure he’s not a drug mule?”

“I’m sure. I guarantee it.” Tetsuo met her gaze without blinking.

“That’s a strong claim. Based on what you’ve told us, it’s hard to believe he’s clean.” Reika adds with a hint of doubt.

Then Tetsuo just bowed to both of them. “…Because… let’s just say… it’s a kind of father’s intuition… Whatever’s going on—I’m sure he’ll never do that kind of thing... please…”

“That’s vague.” Reika running her fingers through her ash-brown hair. Exchanging yet another meaningful glance with Shira.

“Why would you go so far for this Renji?” Shira asked. “Is it just because he’s an orphan?”

“That’s part of it. But… if that were the only reason, this place would’ve turned into orphanage rather than a restaurant by now.” Tetsuo’s voice tinged with remorse, almost inaudible by the end. “…It’s just… he reminds me a lot of my son.”

Then Tetsuo stood up, straightening his back. “Anyway… sorry. If that’s all, I really need to get going to the police station for him.”

“…No,” Reika said, rising from her chair instead. “You don’t need to.”

“Huh?”

“We’ll handle it. And you’ll wait here, Mr. Tetsuo.” Reika dusted off her skirt, and Shira was already halfway to the door, retrieving the clear envelope from beside him.

“Wait—you’re sure?”

Reika paused, and looking back with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hmm. Consider it me—returning some of favor I owe you.” Then she closed the door behind her.

--------

As the car drives along the coastal road, Reika sat quietly in the back seat, flipping through the document sealed inside a clear envelope. Her eyes lingered on the photo—short, dark wavy hair, tired eyes that seemed older than it appears.

“Twenty years old, father disappeared when he was five. Entered the orphanage system at fourteen…” She recited it like reading from a business report.

“Just like every template of courier background we’ve met,” Shira said, hands steady on the wheel as she made a sharp turn. “Abandoned background, financial instability, no real ties. Every reason to become one.”

“I agree,” Reika replied, eyes still on the profile sheet.

There was a brief silence, broken only by the soft hum of the engine.

“Should we interrogate him ourselves?”

Reika didn’t answer right away. Her mind drifted back to the garden—the brief exchange yesterday, the first time they spoke. The way he’s replying at her quips.

Can’t say much from just that one conversation, but…

“I’ve got something else in mind,” she finally said. “For now... Let’s start by pulling him out. We’ll see after that.”

“You think he’s clean?” Shira glanced sideways, a wry smile tugging at her lips.

“At the very least,” Reika said, setting the envelope aside, “I’ve got a hunch those drugs weren’t his.”

“Hunch, huh… Alright. Your call.”

He’s honest I think, at least…

As Reika thought to herself, the car slowed to a stop in front of a concrete building by the seaside. Waiting outside, a bespectacled woman. Clad in a police uniform leaning to her own car, her glasses catching the light of the car's headlights.