THREE

Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. The floor's lights had dimmed out, leaving only the low clatter of keyboards and the distant buzz of a vending machine.

Detective Moriyama Daichi stood by the detention room as he glanced at the black-haired kid across it. He sipped at his coffee.

His colleague, Sato, flipped through the file again, frowning.

“Vandalism,” Sato said. “School property. Broken windows, graffiti. Then bullying of a girl he liked, the signs were really there. Meh, nothing new.”

Moriyama didn’t respond immediately. The boy just sat there, hands firmly entrenched on the chair, as if he were holding himself voluntarily in it. His eyes were open, but dead.

“And two weeks later,” Sato continued, tapping the page, “he panics during a confrontation, and someone ends up dead."

Moriyama exhaled slowly.

“It looks like quite the leap.... but because you’re reading it like a story,” he said. “Beginning, middle, end. Clean progression.”

Sato glanced up. “Isn’t it?”

“No.” Moriyama shook his head. “It’s pressure.”

He walked to the board and tapped one of the photos—the vandalized classroom.

“Vandalism isn’t about the damage. It’s about expression. Anger, boredom, being ignored… something like that.”

Sato shrugged. “Kids act out all the time. They don’t kill people.”

Moriyama agreed, but only on the surface.

"Tell me, the victim's name... Serisawa Shin? Wasn't he always there with him in the act? Students and teachers say they always hung out."

That made Sato pause.

"The Serisawa kid could've been just a compulsory accomplice," he said by closing the file, "he happened to be in those places because they hung around."

"Not according to Naruse Ichigo."

Sato grunted, "Who's that?'

"The kid who—the eye witness, dumbass."

"Daichi," Sato said, hands on the back of his head, "you're looking too much into this. It's just one of those difficult cases where a kid snapped."

"Kids snap for crazy stuff these days, granted," Moriyama said, eyeing the kid in the room again, "It's just that... check the file again, this one smells different."

Sato sighed, rolled his eyes, and opened the file again, "Fine, fine, let's go over it again."

Moriyama sipped his coffee again and continued, quieter now, tapping his partner's shoulder.

“You don’t go from zero to panic like that. Not unless something’s already building underneath.”

Sato flipped back a few pages. “No prior record. Teachers say he was quiet. No fights. No complaints.”

Moriyama gave a faint, humorless smile.

“Quiet just means no one was listening.”

A beat.

Sato leaned back in his chair. “So what—he just snaps?”

Moriyama shook his head again.

“People like that don’t snap out of nowhere. They corner themselves. One bad decision, then another to cover it, then another.” He tapped the timeline again. “By the time we see it, it looks sudden.”

“So the vandalism…”

“…wasn’t the start,” Moriyama finished. “It was the first time it became noticeable.”

Silence settled between them for a moment.

"The question is," Moriyama said, looking at the boy's mugshot, noticing his brown birthmark on the left eye, "what builds underneath enough to throw your accomplice, your friend, over the edge?"

Sato closed the file, making Moriyama blink.

"I don't see it, man."

Moriyama rolled his eyes. "Why are you even in this department?"

"And how come you are not already wiping corruption from the government?" Sato shot back, "This is a kid—he committed a crime, he didn't plan or anything. It. Just. Happened. We're not holding him here because there's an investigation underway. He's here because we haven't been able to contact his parents."

"Mother's dead, Dad is working abroad, the kid was alone."

Sato's gaze shifted from dismissive to more attentive as soon as he heard 'alone' out of his lips.

"Listen, man, I feel you, okay? I know this hits hard, for you, I mean, given you... shit... but... we can talk over this after shift."

"I can use a beer, yes," Morisawa said, finishing his coffee, "You're paying."

"I'm paying?" Sato jumped from his chair before recoiling back to his laid-back posture.

"For being a lazy-ass detective."

Sato shrugged as he laughed, "I don't know if you're joking or what."

The elevator door slid open. A tightly dressed woman emerged with an escort of patrolmen, elegantly navigating the cubicles, asking for directions.

"Oi," Sato said, straightening his body, "who's the cutie—aeee!"

Moriyama slapped his partner's head, spilling drops of his coffee and burning, "Dumbass, that's Prosecutor Shindo, she's the rising star in the prosecution."

"Something must've happened..."

"Yeah, I wonder what."

Shindo looked their way and stomped towards them rather decisively.

The two cops looked at each other.

Moriyama looked at the kid, then back at the prosecutor. She had already crossed all the way to them.

"Gentlemen," she said, her voice high-pitched but calm, "Prosecutor Shindo Aiko." 

They bowed. Prosecutor Shindo looked at her escorts and eyed the detention room. They opened the door and went in. Morisawa noted how she was even more beautiful closer, with her snow-white skin and short brown hair.

"Thank you for holding Vu Hikari all this time. I'll be taking him off your hands."

"What? You're taking him to Family court already?" Moriyama said.

"That's gotta be a correctional penalty, if you're speeding up the process like that," Sato added.

Shindo shook her head, "It's even simpler, detective, he's getting deported."

"Deported?" Sato said.

"You noticed the 'Vu' surname, didn't you? He's got dual nationality."

"I did notice, but it didn't come up on file," Moriyawa said.

"The mother was Vietnamese, and gave the kid her surname while they got their papers settled. The father is a diplomat in Hanoi, which is why the boy was alone."

"His father's taking him in?"

"Seems so, he made a few calls, and the Vietnamese ambassador stepped in."

"Why not grab the father's surname?" Sato wondered, "So weird."

"Not weird, he was probably going to give Hikari his name when he grew up," Moriyama said.

He then opened his eyes and turned to see Vu Hikari walking out with the patrolmen, waiting for Shindo by the elevator gate.

"If I had the name, the pressure would be even bigger... poor kid."

Shindo looked at the detective with an ounce of recognition, "You're a perceptive one, detective. This is not uncommon in diplomatic groups, especially when we all know how strict our education system might be for foreigners."

She looked at the kid. 

"If only he had been stronger, holding on a bit more, it would've been great for him," She said, disappointed, "Such a shame."

Vu Hikari looked back at her. Moriyama saw it. The kid's eyes were filled with a terror he had not seen in a long time. They were fixated on Shindo as if she were the spawn of hell, a revenant ready to make him pay.

The woman turned back to the detectives and bowed, "Well, gentlemen, I'll take my leave."

They bowed back, and Shindo left with the kid.

"Well, that's that," Sato said, "It's gonna be a pain with the paperwork, but it's done. Two more hours before the shift ends. Do you want to go to the usual place or somewhere different?"

"Don't take me to him..." Moriyama muttered.

"What's that?"

"The kid, those were his only words... I wonder if it referred to his dad?"

Sato's eyes rolled again, "Look, man, just for you, I'll take you somewhere a bit more expensive."

Moriyama took a sip from his mug. He realized it was empty and placed it on his desk. He finally sat down and let out a huge sigh.

"Aoi Tei," he said coldly,

"Aoi Tei? You want me to pay Aoi Tei?"

"It's the only way I'll forget about your total insensitiveness in this case."

Sato dead-stared his partner, "You're a weasel."

Moriyama smiled and turned to his computer,  "All right, we'll go in two hours, finish your paperwork, or I'll order an extra round of drinks."

Sato grunted, but got to work. Moriyama knew he was lazy but not inefficient. In fact, his laziness would be a key factor in automating paperwork. He was sure they would be out on time.

Moriyama fixed his glasses and looked at the screen for different reasons altogether. 

He copied his boss in a very special email. His fingers stayed inert for thirty minutes, uncertain.

"Oi, Daichi, don't slack on me or you're paying, finish your part," Sato scolded, obviously noticing the silence.

Moriyama blinked and brushed aside the email, instead going for the phone.

"One second," he said.

"Daichi, who are you texting? I'm right here," Sato said, jokingly.

"Don't be jealous, man."

"Screw you."

The exchange actually gave Moriyama the courage to look for his boss's number and send him a text.

Captain, I would like to formally request a leave of absence.