Black Bullet - Volume 6 - Chapter 3.04

4

Tsurayuki Kimishima tightened his jaw, checking the sturdiness of his stool as he sat down on it. He had been silent for three hours already, his eyes transfixed on the floor.

Suddenly, a pair of hands slapped down on the steel desk in front of him.

“Look, will you just talk already? Huh? How long d’you think you can get away with that?”

The tiny room they were in made the body of the detective, his crew cut making him look the very picture of a high-school gym instructor, seem to loom even larger than normal. The passing shower had grown stronger, making the humidity in the interrogation room intense.

Tsurayuki lifted his face slightly from his jumpsuit, stained with blood and soot. “I’m using my right to remain silent,” he steadfastly said. “Get me a lawyer. I’m not saying anything until then.”

It was a more than effective way to apply further fuel to the detective’s anger.

“What’s with that attitude you got? Huh? Do you have any idea what kind of situation you’re in right now? That gunfire you and your pals sprayed all over the expressway killed people. Why was there a machine gun mounted on your truck in the first place? Where did you obtain that from? Where were you going to take the Gastrea bodies?”

The detective glared at Tsurayuki, crawling back into his shell of silence. He found himself drawing his lips back in anger—perhaps a perverse smile at the futility of it all.

“All right. Once I’m done raking your ass over the coals, I’m tossing you into lockup. I hope you don’t miss the outside world too much, because you ain’t gonna be breathing fresh air for a while.”

Two soft knocks came from the room’s single door.

“Feh,” the detective spat out as he stood up and stormed to the door. “Who is it now?”

And then:

“Oh, hello, um…!”

Suddenly the detective seemed intimidated. Tsurayuki looked over, wondering what was up.

“But…,” he continued. “But that’d…” Then he fell silent.

Tsurayuki was left alone in the interrogation room for a while, but when the door opened again, someone new stepped inside.

It was a younger man with a long face, adorned by a pair of silver-framed glasses that gave him an air of intelligence. He had to be a detective if he was in there, but who was he? The suspense made Tsurayuki swallow nervously as he looked up.

The man stopped in front of him, then suddenly spread his arms wide.

“I’m here to protect you.”

The man before him rolled up his suit and the shirt sleeve underneath. On his upper arm was a five-pointed star, three of the points adorned with ornately designed wings.

A shock ran across Tsurayuki’s spine. He shot to his feet and bowed.

“Please pardon me, sir! I wasn’t expecting a three-wing in here.”

“My name is Atsuro Hitsuma. Don’t worry. There’s no surveillance in this room.”

“How are my friends doing?”

“They’re undergoing treatment at a hospital. Under police observation, of course. Tell me what happened.”

“Y-yes, sir! I managed to burn the two Gastrea at the last minute before the police could seize them…but they took a tissue sample from it.”

“Where do you think they went?”

“They’re getting closer to the plan. I’m sure they’ll look for someplace where they can analyze that sample. A lab facility as high-level as that…”

Hitsuma steeled his eyes behind his glasses.

“Shiba Heavy Weapons?”

Getting out of the car, Tadashima used his suit jacket as an umbrella, scurrying through the rainstorm toward Magata Station. He ignored those around him as he thundered into the building, his pace quickening as he passed right by the office with the specially assigned investigation team he was supposed to be leading.

Instead, he went straight under a sign reading CRIMINAL AFFAIRS. It was quiet, devoid of detectives at the moment. They were all out pursuing leads in the Rentaro Satomi fugitive case.

Once it became clear to everyone that Rentaro Satomi was alive, the investigation team, previously figuring they’d be disbanded before long, reverted into a hive of activity. Now they had another incident to cover—a messy crime scene covering a fairly hefty stretch of freeway.

Hitsuma was just on his way out of the interrogation room.

“Superintendent Hitsuma! What’d you do with the suspect?”

“He’ll be put in custody at the main HQ for the time being, Inspector.”

“What?” Tadashima groaned. “Sir, with all due respect, that’s complete bullshit! The taxi driver’s in critical condition. We’ve got four people dead, shot by that heavy machine gun. I couldn’t even tell you how many casualties there are. It’s like a goddamned field hospital right now, where they were taken to. I have no idea what’s going on here. For the sake of the victims, at the very least, someone needs to pry open the suspect’s mouth with a pair of pliers—and that’s my job, sir! Let me through, please!”

“That’s a commissioner order, Inspector.”

The response came point-blank. It put Tadashima over the edge.

“Superintendent, you know as well as I do that I’m not one to talk when it comes to ignoring orders…but what you’re doing right now is textbook interfering with a police investigation! What are you trying to do, deceiving the commissioner like this? Please, sir, I want to be on your side here, but…”

Hitsuma did not answer. He simply looked down at him with a cold, lifeless stare. Looking at those eyes, Tadashima could feel the full depth of the chasm that now yawned out between them. Even if the entire world turned upside down, there would be no changing his mind any longer. That was all too clear now.

Tadashima spun around. “We’re done working together. I’m taking action on my own from now on.”

“We were told by the investigation headquarters that we are to operate as a two-man team. If you decide to take action on your own volition, I reserve the right to report that to my superiors.”

“You’re the one acting on your own volition! If you don’t like it, feel free to rat on me or punish me or whatever you like.”

Tadashima started walking—right out of the police department. He never looked back. Hitsuma, watching him go, made sure he was firmly out of sight before sighing and shaking his head.

“We have to get rid of him now,” said a new voice. “Otherwise it’s just gonna get worse.”

Somewhere along the line, Dark Stalker—Yuga Mitsugi—had sidled up next to him. The operative shot a sharp glance at Tadashima.

Hitsuma shook his head again to stay him. “No. If my partner gets killed, I’d have to personally answer to that. Leave him. We’re acting just as shady as he is.”

With effort, Yuga relaxed his gaze and shrugged. “So what’s the plan then, Mr. Hitsuma? ’Cause this isn’t really going too well right now, is it? Like, three of our members arrested for a mass shooting?”

“It won’t be a problem,” Hitsuma said as his middle finger propped up the bridge of his glasses. “The two unconscious suspects in the hospital are going to go into cardiac arrest. We’re planning to have Tsurayuki Kimishima write a note in his cell and hang himself. No leaks, no nothing.”

“Not a stone left unturned, huh?”

“Not a one. You make a mistake, you pay for it.”

“If you seriously want to eliminate Rentaro Satomi, you need to use me.”

“The decision’s already been made. He’s been assigned to Swordtail. You’re on standby.”

Yuga gave him a cold, sideways glance, then silently disappeared down a station hallway, sulking.

There was no doubting his skills in battle, Hitsuma thought to himself, but there was something unfathomable about Yuga still; it was hard to read what he was thinking at any given point. In the end, it was easier to control a pure, unadulterated warrior over someone with a few threads dangling loose.

It was eight in the evening. Glancing outside, he saw that the skies, spitting rain since the morning, were finally starting to clear up. It was going to be a humid night.