A New Case for Detective Hattori

“I’ll drop by at six o’clock tomorrow,” Kazuya said on his mobile phone, placed next to him in the car. He turned the wheel to avoid smashing into an oncoming vehicle on the highway. Speeding up relaxed his nerves, so he preferred to take highways whenever he could. He hit the pedal and increased the speed. “Is your mother doing the cooking?”

“You bet!” a mild, high-pitched voice replied from the phone. It was Kenzō, his best friend, a 22-year-old man who acted like a lazy teenager when not at work. He invited Kazuya to have authentic, home-cooked ramen in his father’s old castle. “Your bullets are ready, too! You can pick them up when you get here.”

“Much obliged, Ken,” Kazuya replied in his throaty voice. Just then, another call rang on his phone. “Hold up! I’ve got another line.”

“Sure!” Kenzō chimed in. “From work?”

Kazuya glanced at the screen and back at the road. The call said “Boss”. It was Akechi Shinemori, the chief of the police department to which Kazuya belonged. Although Japanese law prohibited looking at the phone screen while driving, Kazuya often disregarded that law for two reasons. First, he was a hot-blooded 23-year-old man, not too fond of rules. Second, what his police officer colleagues didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. He lifted his toes from the pedal, slowing down, so that the roars of his engine wouldn’t reach the callers.

“Yes, it’s Boss,” he replied to Kenzō. He ordered the phone: “Sheri, switch to Boss!”

“Understood,” answered the automated voice of Sheri, the built-in virtual assistant for the Cherry mobile phone brand that Kazuya used.

The call changed. Akechi Shinemori’s deep, stern voice sounded, with many murmurs and shuffles in the background, calling from a busy office.

“Hattori, are you free?” he asked Kazuya.

“Yes, Sir!” Kazuya answered, adjusting his tie with one hand, his other hand still on the wheel. His shimmering green eyes focused on the road. “A new case?”

“Yes, a disappearance,” Akechi replied grimly. “Remember Fuyuki Nobara, the politician who announced the Three Towers project the other day?”

“Cutting down dead trees in the Inari Woods to build some hotels? – Yeah, Grandma listened to something like that on TV…” Kazuya replied, knitting his dark brows. “So?”

“Fuyuki Nobara hasn’t been seen since last night,” Akechi said.

Kazuya’s eyes widened. He hit the brakes to avoid smashing into a truck. He turned the wheel and took a free, quiet road.

“Hattori, are you alright?” Akechi asked. “You’re speeding up again, brat, aren’t you?”

“Uh… not anymore!” Kazuya replied, stopping his car. His cheeks flushed. He cleared his throat. “So… a politician has disappeared? Another yōkai’s work?”

He asked these questions to divert Chief Shinemori’s attention from his bad driving habits. In truth, he knew perfectly well that it was a yōkai’s work. The Paranormal Department of the Tokyo Police Force, where Kazuya Hattori worked, only took on cases too mysterious for normal departments, the ones suspected to be perpetrated by yōkai. These were magical spirits that had existed alongside humans for millennia and were highly documented and studied in Japan. The police hunted malevolent yōkai, who attacked humans and ate them. The benevolent yōkai, on the other hand, lived in peace with humans and even acted as their guardians, helping them against the evil spirits.

“Not just any yōkai’s work,” Akechi replied to Kazuya’s question, although he grunted something about ‘the irresponsible brat’ before that. “I called you because I know it’ll interest you as much as it does me. Politicians don’t get easily abducted, even by yōkai, especially without a trace like this… I suspect it’s them again.”

Kazuya froze. His nostrils flared. He clutched the wheel, his knuckles turning red. He knew who Chief Shinemori was referring to – the Kagenashi, one of the most powerful and ancient yakuza clans in Tokyo, rumoured to be allied with the malevolent yōkai. They got away unscathed after each crime, leaving no trace behind. But Kazuya kept chasing them, because he had a personal score to settle with their kumichō, Genzaburō Kagenashi.

“I’ll take the case,” he said quietly, with a trembling voice. “This time, I’ll catch that old bastard!”

“Be careful,” Akechi cautioned, almost in a fatherly tone. “We both know the Kagenashi Clan doesn’t like being tailed. Come to the office as soon as you can! I’ll give you the materials.”

“Yes, Sir,” Kazuya replied.

The call dropped. Kazuya heaved a sigh. He glanced at a picture hanging on the mirror in his car. It depicted him as a ten-year-old, his older sister, Kasane, and their parents, now both dead. His father wore the police uniform of the Paranormal Department, where Kazuya worked now. His father, Jin Hattori, had been Akechi Shinemori’s partner in the earlier days. Jin dreamed of purging the city of the Kagenashi Clan and obtained some incriminating evidence against their leader, Genzaburō. He wished to share the findings with his partner, Shinemori, but died before he made it. His and his wife’s mutilated bodies were found in their apartment after the fire was extinguished. But Jin Hattori’s files had turned to dust.

Kazuya vividly remembered that day. He and his sister, Kasane, cried hot tears before their parents’ covered bodies, standing in the street as the firefighters and medics ran about. They had returned from school to find their parents and house gone. The whistle of the firefighters’ siren still rang in Kazuya’s mind, and the heavy stench of smoke from the burning house stung his nostrils like it was yesterday and not ten years ago.

“Yo, what did Shinemori say?” Kenzō’s voice awoke him.

“Oh…” Kazuya flinched, regaining his senses. “Uh, he offered another case. A politician named Nobara has disappeared. The Boss suspects it’s the Kagenashi.”

“Ha! No wonder,” Kenzō snorted. “That fool threatened the Inari Woods. And yet, my grandpa warned him! Those woods may have dead trees, but they’re still a haven for the yōkai. Oh, well… If it’s the Kagenashi, don’t hope to find that dude alive!”

“We might still make it, Ken,” Kazuya said, his voice stern. He never liked Kenzō’s cynicism. He did agree that the societal elites, such as politicians and businessmen, deserved that attitude, but Kenzō was too morbid. Kazuya tapped his fingers on the wheel. “More importantly, I need to get the Kagenashi top dog.”

“Oh, it’s about your father, then?” Kenzō’s voice grew sympathetic. “Yeah, I’ll do all I can. Just ring me up!”

“I’m going to the office to get materials from the Boss,” Kazuya said. “You check the movements of Genzaburō Kagenashi through your network and inform me!”

“Roger! Although it’s hard to track the kumichō of the Kagenashi, so don’t expect too much,” Kenzō said. “Well, catch you later!”

The call dropped. Kazuya turned on the engine and drove forward. His eyes were reflected in his mirror, above his family picture. They’d grown wiser and more melancholic, compared to the joyful ten-year-old in the photo. But the candid spark remained.

I’ll avenge you, Dad… Kazuya thought, glancing at his father’s smiling face, forever still in the image. I’ll arrest Genzaburō Kagenashi if it’s the last thing I do!