"Been two days, will Shira and Renji be okay...?"
Reika's thoughts drifted as she sipped her tea, she gazes around at the sea documents about graph and numbers cluttered around. Her chaotic desk was like an anomaly in this neatly arranged private office space.
Mmm… Afternoon already...
She took away her eyes from the wall clock ticking softly above the door, while slouched slightly in her chair.
"On another note… Tetsuo, huh…" She tapped her finger lightly on the armrest cushion.
Hiring him as my private chef…
The thought had lingered ever since she made Renji her driver, and especially after she heard about Tetsuo from Renji's perspective.
It crossed her mind before. But Tetsuo always looked so content running his rundown little restaurant; she never imagined he might want more out of life despite the person himself saying otherwise.
… I'll have a proper talk with him one of these days…
Her attention shifted back to business.
"Alright... For the other problem. I'll go with Chancellor Shinpei suggestion… Winning over—at least boardman Murakami and Mr. Kitamura… New Year's Gala next month, could be a good window…"
And she trailed off again, her clear amber eyes falling to her own reflection inside the now-cold tea.
...Mother. If it were you… what would your next step be?
*Ding.*
A soft doorbell echoed through the room, followed by a muffled voice from the door.
"Miss Reika, I've brought your lunch from the receptionist."
Reika stood and crossed the room with a smooth, deliberate gait. Opening the door, she found one of the young receptionist employees, the same one that she told to pick the food from WaraGyo ever since the drug accident instead of Renji.
"Thanks, as always."
After Reika took the paper bag from his hands. He gave a small bow before leaving, and she shut the door quietly behind her, returning to her desk.
"Hm. It's quite... sizeable today," Reika felt the weight of the bag as she set it down.
He does this kind of thing sometimes. Hah… Seriously, is Tetsuo planning to make me gain weight?
She let out a short laugh, remembering the time he slipped in two portions of braised chicken like it was nothing.
… It was delicious, though…
Her fingers worked at the red string tied into a neat ribbon around the bag. It slid free with a gentle tug. She reached in and carefully lifted two thick paper bento boxes.
"Guess I'll slip in extra pay this month too as a payback…" slight mischievous, genuine smile formed on her lips as she began unboxing the meal.
"Oh, brown rice and stewed red radish today. I like it."
A familiar, rich mushroom sauce aroma immediately wafted up to meet her— It was a comforting scent she'd come to associate with quiet afternoons like this, triggering her appetite even though she hadn't felt particularly hungry before.
She reached for the second box, and slowly lifted the lid—
"Now, now… what do we have for the main course today?"
—And froze.
Her brain didn't register it at first. Seconds passed before what she saw catch up with her consciousness.
The box slipped from her fingers, fall onto the desk. She stumbled back from her seat, a reflex to take a distance from it.
She stood unmoving, breath caught, gaze locked on the inside of the bento box.
"W…what…?"
Atop a neatly arranged bed of stewed meat and shallots in soy glaze, she had first assumed it was some undercooked seafood—like fat prawns with slight difference in size each.
But her eyes adjusted. Focused. And counted slowly.
…Ten…
The grotesque truth settled in, at the sight of something that's not supposed to be inside a box of food, at all.
"…Human… fingers…?"
Ten dismembered fingers, laid out deliberately in neat circle. Her mind spiraled through a hundred possibilities in a heartbeat.
Whose? Who…??
After regaining bit of composure, she steps closer. Though, her expression remained grim as she examined the contents again.
"…It's real…"
The flesh was pale and shriveled. At the base of severed each, the blood had dried and oxidized to a dark, flaking brown. Unmistakably, this was humans.
… All of this… just to harass me…?
Caught between disbelief and fury. She turned her attention to the first box again—just brown rice and radish, as it had seemed. Then back to the second box, still open like a damning maw.
"…No, this is Tetsuo's cooking. I know by the smell alone…"
Her hands moved and dug through the paper bag. And at the very bottom, she finds something that usually never there—a single, folded envelope.
Tetsuo never sent letters…
She opened it, her eyes caught one, simple line.
'Savor this delicacy. It may be the last from your favorite cooks.'
Immediately, she reached for her phone and dialed Tetsuo's number.
It rang once. Twice. Three times. No answer. She hung up. Dialed again. Still nothing.
No way… No, no, no!!
Without wasting another second, Reika dialed a different number—one of her employees, the one assigned to pick up her lunch from WaraGyo this morning.
"—Hello, Miss Reika. Is ther—"
"Were you the one who picked up the food this morning?"
"Huh? Yes, I am. Is… something wrong?"
"Did you see Tetsuo—the owner?"
"Uh... no. The food was placed on a chair in front of the door. There was a paper on it that said, 'This is the food, I'm on urgent business.' So… I just grabbed it and came back."
"There was no one inside?"
"… I'm… not sure. I didn't go in since I didn't want to intrude."
"Thanks."
She ended the call without waiting for a response. Reika grabbed the letter and her handbag, stormed out of her office, straight for the elevator. As she stepped into the lobby below, the receptionist called out to her, startled by the sudden urgency in her stride.
"Ah, Miss Reika—what's—?"
"Urgent matter. I need one of the company car keys."
"S-sure, Miss Reika. Do you need a driv—"
"No. I'll drive myself."
--------
When she finally pulled up in front of WaraGyo, the shop looked just as her employee told her. On the weathered plastic chair out front, fluttering slightly in the breeze, was a single sheet of paper scribbled with thick black marker—
'This is the food. I'm on urgent business.'
She reached for the front door, expecting resistance. But—
…It's open…?
A chill crept down her spine. She stepped inside, her other hand already slipping into her handbag, fingers brushing against the cold metal of a concealed revolver she wish she never have to use.
"Mr. Tetsuo?"
Her voice rang out, clear and commanding, echoing off the quiet space. If someone was here, they'd hear her. There was no excuse not to.
No response.
She moved through the empty customer seating area, kitchen, even the living room behind it, everything looked like it had been paused mid-shift.
"Mr. Tetsuo? Are you there?"
Still nothing.
…The only place left is here…
She turned to face the final door—one behind the living room. Possibly his private quarters, she once sees Tetsuo emerge from this door.
The moment it opened, her face turned pale in an instant.
"…What… happened… here…??"
Bloodstains painted the floor in wide, erratic streaks—some splattered, some smeared, as if something had been dragged. On the table nearby, a kitchen knife had been stabbed deep into the wood, its blade crusted in dried blood. The pool around it had turned a dark, iron-red, the air stale with the scent of cooper and heavy with decay.
Her hand inside her handbag went instinctively for her phone instead for the gun, to contact the one she relied on more than anyone else all this time.
'Shira Kurosawa'
Just as she was about to press the call button, she hesitates.
"No… I shouldn't. Shira's still on another business…"
This situation was urgent, but she needed someone who could act now, without disrupting other lines.
I swear… at times like these, I hate that chancellor Takaori is right…
She swiped quickly, switching contacts.
'Shinpei Takaori.'
One ring. Then—
"Miss Reika. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Chancellor, I need a favor."
"My! What will it be, Miss Reika?"
"I need you to meet me, now."
"Ah, what a timing… unfortunately, I'm at Morioka. Meeting ran long. Urgent matter?"
"Tch!!" Reika let her frustration takes better of her, and Shinpei propose his solution.
"If you need someone in Tokyo, I believe Kouga's around there right now."
"Mr. Seiryuu…"
I hate the idea… but I really have no choice, fine.
Weighing the options, Reika's pushed away her unwillingness away.
"Alright, tell him to meet me at the address I sent you as soon as he can."
"Understood, Miss Reika."
--------
"Never thought you'd be the one who request to see me, Lady Reika." he said with a coy smirk.
It didn't take long to arrange the meeting. Within one hour, a man in his late 20's arrived in front of the WaraGyo. Walking out from his dark-red mustang, dressed in a neatly buttoned shirt, and expensive-looking brogues—if not for the long scar trailing from his neck down his chest. He look like a refined businessman that visually matched well with Reika.
Kouga Seiryuu said with gentlemanly bow— "You're lovely as always."
"… Good evening, Mr. Seiryuu."
"You know, Lady Reika, I don't usually work pro bono. But for you, I might settle for a drink... and maybe a night where we get to know each other's without expensive clothes."
"Try that line elsewhere." Reika replied flatly, maintaining her distance from him.
"How cold… Well, fine, I insist on the drink. The rest is… optional."
"Mind your manner please. I'm not one of your hostesses."
She didn't engage with any pleasantries as she led him inside the restaurant. Where she showed him the bloodstained room.
Kouga didn't flinch. His reaction just like any other Tuesday at work, "… The last time I was this close to blood and elegant lady like you, it was after a bad date in a hotel room."
This man are the worst…
Reika just stares at him with contempt, not taking his bait for a banter.
"Lately I ordered my lunch from this place, and today, there's… fingers inside my food—"
"—And you killed the cook?" Kouga smiles in joking manner while glanced around the scene. "You're brutal…"
"Do let me finish speaking. I came here immediately and found this room was already like this. I suspected something happened to the owner."
After Reika told the summary of the events and showed him the letter. Kouga expression shift into one that understood the gravity, then he scanned the room once more. "Professional job, this one. Quick extraction. Yet, no cleanup effort, which means they weren't worried about someone finding this… They… wanted you to find it."
"I know that… first, help me find Mr. Tetsuo."
"… Based on the situation, high chance this Tetsuo is goner already." Kouga shrugs as he's not a stranger to how this kind of thing ends.
"Even so—!" She raises her voice in anger, and he interrupts her with a confident smile, walking closer to Reika.
"Hey, I'll still do my best, just… lower your expectation. M'lady."
--------
Despite his unserious attitude, Kouga worked efficiently, from the dried blood and the severed fingers condition, he estimated the likely time of the crime. Using his connection to check every CCTV around the nearby buildings and statements from anyone who'd been awake around that hour.
It took one full sleepless day until Kouga and Reika found a footage from one of the convenience stores facing the alley, and found a lead.
Inside the car they used to move around the city, Kouga leaned over closer than he needs to, pointing at the laptop. "There. That van. No license plate. It had stopped in front of WaraGyo for an hour before leaving again."
"…3 am, the same day…?" Reika's hand clenched tight in disgust.
Kouga keyed in a query to another city traffic node and began triangulating its route. Following the scattered trail of CCTV footage and street-level intel, the pieces began to click together, bit by bit, until they pointed to a location—
"North-bound... cut through 5th street... turned at the Kinka intersection…"
And he tapped the screen again. "Here. That same van, they're headed toward Asagiri."
"That's one of KHX's usual port…"
Kouga nodded slowly, his voice turning serious for the first time. "I guess it's insider work, Lady Reika."
"…We'll go there." She clenches her jaw, already expecting the worst.
"Right after you say 'please,' maybe?"
She shot him a look sharp enough to kill.
Kouga sighed dramatically. "Alright, alright, can you at least give me your lovely smile?"
From their last position, it was a short drive until they arrive at Asagiri dock, led to the warehouse on the edge of the Port. One they had emptied out months ago. And supposedly abandoned.
"We don't have any camera around here, so we'll have to search by eye from here on." He put away his cigarette and readied his handgun on his waist, took out two flashlights from the compartment, he hands one to Reika.
They stepped into the darkened warehouse, the sea breeze from the nearby docks leaking through gaps in the rusted shutters. Inside, their footsteps echoed faintly over the concrete floor, punctuated only by the occasional clink of shifting debris under.
As they moved deeper, they found it, the deliberate blood trail, purposely smeared, mimicking something dragged—
Kouga's grin faded. "Well, that's never good foreplay."
Reika ignored the comment, tightening her grip on the flashlight.
He moved ahead, hand instinctively resting near his hip. Reika followed, silent but alert. Until it leads to the dead center of one spacious, dusty storage room, stood a lone, rusted oil barrel.
Isn't the placement too intentional…?
She feels like a stage piece. Played for an amusement purpose. Yet she directed her flashlight straight at the barrel, resolving herself.
…No way… No way this is real…
"… Ahhh, I'm afraid, I already know what's inside." He muttered with a knowing smile. And stepped forward carefully, took out his folding knife, gripped the lid that tightly sealed with heavy-duty duct-tape.
*CLANK.*
The moment he slices the tape, and twisted it open, the smell punched them both square in the gut. Putrid. Rotting. The smell of a dead.
Reika brought a hand covering her nose and mouth instinctively, but didn't stop herself from stepping closer.
The body inside the barrel was curled unnaturally, arms bound, torso slumped. Blood and dark water sloshed together around the lifeless corpse. The skin had begun to discolor and bloat, lips purpled, eyes in a permanent, slack stare.
She recognized him instantly—even through the damage.
…Mr. Tetsuo…
Her hands clenched and closed her eyes slowly in defeat.
--------