Kaito's proposal hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation. A way for her to fight back. There was only one possible answer.
"Show me," Aiko said, her voice steady.
The next few hours were a blur of focused activity. Kaito made a call, and Kenji appeared, this time carrying several heavy-duty silver cases. The grim-faced man worked with silent efficiency, transforming the minimalist living room into a high-tech command center. He set up three large monitors on the dining table, connecting them to a sleek black server humming with quiet power. As he worked, Aiko noticed the respectful way he now nodded to her. She was no longer just the boss's problem; she was part of the operation.
When the setup was complete, Kaito walked her through it.
"My team is deploying four micro-drones," he explained, pointing to the main screen, which showed a satellite map of the Yanaka district. "They provide aerial views. We also have five operatives on the ground with hidden cameras. You will have access to all their feeds. Your job is to watch. Not for guns. Not for obvious threats. My men can see those."
He looked at her, his expression serious. "I need you to look for the things that don't belong. The tells. The nervous twitch. The coffee cup from the wrong part of town. The things that people like me are trained to ignore. You will be my eyes."
He handed her a small, flesh-colored wireless earpiece. It was tiny and discreet. "This is a secure, encrypted comm line, connected only to me. No one else will hear you. If you see something—anything—you report it. Quietly and clearly."
He helped her fit the piece into her ear. His fingers brushed against her skin, a brief, warm touch that sent a shiver down her spine. The proximity, the focus, the shared purpose—it was more intimate than any kiss.
"Ready?" he asked.
Aiko took a deep breath. "Ready."
Kaito gave a final nod, put on his own earpiece, and headed for the door. Kenji was waiting for him. "The team is in position, Ishikawa-sama."
"Good," Kaito said. He looked back at Aiko one last time, a silent message of trust passing between them. Then he was gone.
Aiko was alone again, but this time was different. She wasn't a prisoner. She was the nerve center. She sat down in the large leather chair in front of the monitors, took the mouse, and began her watch.
The screens flickered to life, showing her the world outside. She saw a quiet, charming street. She saw the "Neko no Jikan" Cafe, with its cute cat-themed sign and a real calico cat sleeping in the sun-drenched window. She saw people strolling by, tourists taking pictures. It was a perfect picture of peace. Her job was to find the lie.
She cycled through the feeds, her heart pounding with a nervous energy. The aerial drone showed the rooftops. Another showed the back alley. The street-level operatives gave her views from a newspaper stand, a park bench, and inside a souvenir shop across the street.
For twenty minutes, nothing happened. Aiko began to doubt herself. What was she even looking for? Then she remembered Kaito's lesson. Stop looking. Start noticing.
She focused on a woman pushing a stroller who had passed the cafe three times. Too perfect, too clean. Aiko zoomed in with the camera from the souvenir shop. The baby in the stroller was a doll. Its eyes were glassy, unblinking.
Aiko pressed the small button on her earpiece. "Kaito," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
"I'm here," his voice was a low, calm hum in her ear, instantly steadying her nerves.
"There's a woman. Pushing a stroller. She's passed by three times. The baby isn't real."
There was a pause. "Good," Kaito's voice came back, laced with approval. "That's one of their spotters. Keep watching."
A surge of confidence shot through her. She could do this. A few minutes later, she noticed a food delivery courier who had been parked for ten minutes without checking his phone or going anywhere. All he did was watch the cafe's entrance in his side mirror.
"Delivery bike. Parked too long," she reported.
"Noted," Kaito replied. "He's the muscle."
The pieces were falling into place around her, a hidden army revealing itself to her eyes only. Then, a taxi pulled up to the curb. The person who got out was not what Aiko expected. It wasn't a man in a black suit. It was a small, elderly woman in a simple kimono, carrying a traditional cloth-wrapped bundle. She looked like anyone's grandmother.
But as the woman walked towards the cafe, Aiko noticed her shadow. For a split second, under the cafe's awning, it seemed to detach from her feet, the edges sharp and unnaturally dark, like spilled ink. A yokai. Or something protected by one.
"Kaito," Aiko said, her voice urgent. "An old woman. Just got out of a taxi. Something is wrong with her shadow."
The line was silent for a beat. Then Kaito's voice returned, grim and focused. "That's her. Fumi Kageyama. The clan's treasurer. An ancient woman with an even more ancient spirit bound to her service. They don't move money. They move her."
Aiko's eyes were glued to the screen as the old woman shuffled into the cat cafe, the bell on the door jingling softly.
"She's inside," Aiko confirmed.
Kaito's voice was a low, intense command in her ear, pulling her deeper into the war than she had ever been.
"The exchange will happen in the next ten minutes. Stay focused, Aiko. Talk to me. Tell me everything you see."