Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There’s a place we used to go to.

Where the sunlight dappled ground is covered in pine needles and broken twigs. A secret place.

Edge of the bush, past the largest tree you can find. Count four trees to the left. Do you see it? The marking etched by sticks into the bark of the gumtree like an open wound. The  shape of a square crudely drawn by the shaking fingers of four children. Each child a side, each a part of a bigger whole.

Walk into the bush from that point. Keep walking dead ahead, do not wander off the path, do not stray from your route. Otherwise you could miss it.

The small house of balsa wood and canvas, tucked behind the foliage of a large bush. A secret place.

Our old game of cat and mouse, of hide and seek is over. The time is up.

I’m waiting.

It was autumn. That unsure season where the drying leaves turned the brightest golden, crimsons or the dullest browns and fell from the trees. The last dregs of the life that had sprung in the past months dying and leaving the remains of a stick figure corpse in its wake.

The park was almost empty at this time of day, a few people bustled about, taking the dog for a walk down the cracked paths or younger children giggling as they chased each other through the lines of neatly planted trees.

Yuto Kurosaki sighed as he clutched the cup of steaming hot coffee closer to his chest, sitting back against the park bench and looking up at the overcast grey gloom of the sky.

It was 17 years today.

17 years since that day, since everything changed. Since… him. The smiling image of the boy in the vibrant orange t-shirt invaded his mind and Yuto forcefully shoved it aside. Now was not the time.

A chill ran down his spine and Yuto shivered. He suddenly didn’t feel compelled to drink the warm liquid. With a sigh Yuto threw the styrofoam cup in the nearest rubbish bin. Watching as the lid came off mid-arc and spilled the contents against the plastic liner.

Yuto returned to his bench, watching as a small group of children ran past him, heading towards the playground.

“Hurry up you guys!”

“I call dibs on the swing first!”

Yuto smiled sadly after them, looking up to the battered playground that served this park’s only source of entertainment. It was rusted and old, the once vibrant paint peeling off the monkey bars and slide, the ropes of the climbing frame fraying and hanging loose in areas. It looked sad, alone, forgotten. But when the children reached it, it came to life, suddenly seeming like the happiest place in the world.

The memories came again, of the laughing boy, his smile, wide and playful as he caught a ball or swung on that very same swing set, back when it didn’t creak and the paint didn’t chip.

Yuto frowned, looking away. Today was the hardest day of the year. If he just got through today, he would be fine in the morning.

Yuto straightened and stretched, looking back down at his watch to check the time. His break was over.

Getting up with a sigh and gratefully stuffing his hands into the warmth of his pockets, Yuto made his way down the leaf-strewn path.

Yuya. The boy that had served as his best friend back in middle school. The boy that was always laughing, always positive. The boy that had disappeared on this day, 17 years ago.

Yuto shut his eyes against the onslaught of memories and hurried further through the park.

By the time he got back to the station, he was almost out of breath from running.

Shrugging off his coat and breathing a sigh of relief at the warmth of the room, Yuto looked up quizzically at the man who bounced over.

“Had a nice break Chief Inspector?” Yugo grinned, throwing an arm around Yuto’s shoulders as he hung his coat on the rack.

“I told you, don’t call me that!” Yuto grumbled under his breath, “it’s too formal.”

“Aw~, don’t be like that!” Yugo released him and Yuto started down the corridor. Much to his vexation, Yugo followed. “It’s an honorary rank after all!”

Yuto groaned, “We’re friends Sergeant Atlus, please don’t.” Yugo pouted and joined Yuto as they stepped into their shared office.

“Touché.”

The office was small, but spacious, serving room for the set of two desks. Yuto gave a disapproving glance at Yugo’s desk, a tangled mess of paper and empty coffee cups, before making his way over to his own neatly organised and adequately tidy workspace. Sinking into the oversized leather chair with a sigh.

Yugo grinned and slumped in the chair opposite, draping his gangly limbs over the armrest, before his face suddenly fell serious.

“How are you holding up?” He asked, voice suddenly full of worry. Yuto gave a half-hearted shrug and turned to the window, placing his chin in his hand.

“I’m doing fine I guess. I mean considering…” Yugo nodded.

“What about tonight? You still all good to come? You know how Yoko gets on this day.” Yuto gave a small smile, the blonde woman was a worrier, but who could blame her?

“Yeah,” he said back, voice monotone and devoid of expression. He wasn’t in the mood to play catch-up tonight. Yuto cast his gaze out the large window, at the wonderful view of the brick wall across the street. He looked back over to the pair of aquamarine eyes that were now staring at him. “What?” He blinked, turning as Yugo sat back with a sigh.

Yugo was his right hand at the station. The guy was a lot of fun when he was in a good mood, but his anger was on a tight leash. They’d been friends for what seems like forever. Yugo had been friends with Yuya too. Before it happened.

“What about Yuri?” Yuto asked, trying to distract his thoughts. “Do you think he’ll come?” Yugo just shrugged.

“Who knows? He’s been pretty busy lately, the number of ‘Missing Persons’ has increased again this month.”

Yuri Marufuji. Yuto and Yugo’s best friend and head boss of their station. He was a good officer and leader, but he also didn’t warm to people easily. He was a proud personality, sarcastic, but a great ally to have around on a case.

Yuto sighed again and picked up the report on his desk, one of the ‘Missing Persons’ Yugo had mentioned. One Ms Mieru Houchun. The ginger-haired woman in the photo was smiling, looking happy, and Yuto threw the file back onto the table top. Another something that was determined to bring him bad memories.

Soon Yugo gave up trying to talk to Yuto and busied himself with filing away the recent complaint registers. Yuto himself picked up Mieru Houchun’s file again, curiosity taking the better of him. Mother of two, last seen ten days ago on May 4 ^th heading home from work. Ms Houchun worked in politics, and was a personal assistant to the city councilman who was predicted to win the upcoming election, a Mr Furio Sawatari.

According to eye witnesses, Ms Houchun had left the local grocery store at 5:00, carrying a shopping bag and purse. Later that same night Mr Houchun had called her personal mobile, to ask of her whereabouts. There had been no reply after ten attempts. When the woman still had not returned in the morning the man had filed the report.

The police searched the following day and found her car parked by the river. No valuables had been stolen, her phone and keys left in the locked car. Strangely enough so too was her jewellery and wedding ring. As if she had simply disappeared.

Yuto rubbed his eyes and set the file back down. He glanced at his watch. 5:30, he could leave if he wanted to.

Snapping the laptop closed and picking up Ms Houchun’s file again, Yuto gave a wave to Yugo before making his way to the parking lot.

Producing a set of keys, Yuto unlocked his car and began to pull out of the carpark. Giving a wave to the manager of the post office next door before turning onto the main road.

The drive back to his flat was uneventful. The cars rushed past, people stopped and started engines. Traffic lights turned from red to amber to green. It was a blur. A flurry of movement that circled around him as he himself seemed stationary.

By the time he got home it was an hour later. The keys jangling in his hand as he unlocked the door and stepped into the darkened cold of his apartment. He checked his watch, only 40 minutes before he was scheduled to meet with Yugo, Yuri, Yoko and Yusho for dinner.

It was a tradition that the small group had started a long time ago. That every year they would have dinner in memory of Yuya. Yuto sighed as he stepped into the shower. Letting the water droplets patter against his bare back in a constant, drumming rhythm.

Yuya would be the same age as he was now if he was still here. He had been the kind of kid that made you laugh. He was always energetic, positive and constantly looking for the best in people. He felt sympathy for the smallest living thing, once taking a stray dog under his wing. A brown corgi he’d named ‘En’.

Yuto smiled sadly to himself, it wasn’t fair that he was gone. That he was the one that had disappeared. Yuya had been too kind. He didn’t deserve whatever happened to him.

Yuto got out of the shower and padded to the closet, scanning the rows of pressed uniform before selecting a nice collared shirt, pants and jacket. Glancing at the clock he bit back a curse of annoyance. He was late.

Practically throwing his boots on Yuto grabbed his keys and wallet. Bolting out the door to the car, and speeding away through the darkening streets. The orange glows of the street lamps reflected in the black hood of his car, illuminating his face in brief intervals as he joined the freeway and headed into the city.

Yuto drove through the bustling maze of high rise buildings, hotels, shops, restaurants and pedestrians. Here, the city life thrived and throbbed like a beating heart. Couples chatted and held hands, families smiled, talked and ate. Everywhere he looked people were laughing, oblivious to any danger, to the shadows that lurked around every corner. The metropolis, tonight, was the place to be.

Yuto pulled into the first parking lot he could find.  Desperately gritting his teeth as he ascended the first five floors that were full of silent cars. Waiting patiently for their owners to bring them back to life. He stopped and reversed into a drive-through park before locking up and bolting for the elevator.

He pressed the button and waited. Five seconds passed. He looked at his watch. Another five. Yuto couldn’t take it. He flung open the door to the stairwell and practically fell down. Taking the dull, grey, graffiti covered stairs three at a time before finally making it out onto the main street.

Yuto ran.

The restaurant was called ‘The Bar’. Nothing fancy or original, just a name that stated, quite blatantly the purpose of the pub. Yuto was out of breath by the time he reached it, gritting his teeth in annoyance. He was 10 minutes late.

Yuto stood there looking awkward at the ‘Please wait to be seated’ sign before the waiter noticed his presence. “How many sir?” He asked, Yuto stood there blinking for a second, taking a moment to observe the man. He was in his mid-fifties, the black polo shirt crumpled in areas that suggested he didn’t really care about his appearance, so he therefore didn’t have any aspirations. His comb over was quite obviously a failing attempt to hide the bald patches of his fraying greasy hair. The man had a slight quirk to switch his body weight from one foot to the other. A trait that would normally mean he was nervous. Yuto gave a quick scan of the room. Noticing the man in the corner watching him. Ah, so that was it. Yuto glanced at the ill-polished name tag, almost grinning at the name, Jeremy. The man didn’t read as a Jeremy. More of a… Marco?

“Sir?” Yuto was startled out of his musings by ‘Jeremy’, “How many?”

“Oh, right, I have a reservation for—”

“Yuto! Over here!” Yuto groaned, he’d know that voice anywhere and glanced around ‘Jeremy’s’ short stature to see Yugo waving at him from a booth. Everyone else was already here.

“If you’ll excuse me, my friends are waiting.” His lips quirked as he swung back around, “oh and, Jeremy, good luck with your staff observation. You’ll do fine. Although…” Yuto let his face frown a little, “your clearly not happy with your job. Little piece of advice, quit now or you’ll regret it later.”

‘Jeremy’s’ eyes widened and Yuto allowed himself a smile, he’d been right.

“Sorry I’m late,” Yuto mumbled as he slid into the booth next to Yugo, facing the two people opposite, Yuto shook Yusho Sakaki’s strong, callused hand firmly, before wincing as Yuya’s mother pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

“No need to apologise dear boy!” Yoko Sakaki cried and hugged him harder, the bright green of her eyes softened by the wrinkles and stress that lined her gentle face. “I am so glad that you three boys could make it!” Yuto felt himself blushing as he sat back down.

“Nice of you to join the party Yuto.” Yuto smiled at Yuri, who was looking at him with malicious glee, his violet shirt crease-free and spotless, “how have you been holding up?”

“Alive is a start,” Yuto replied, and Yuri grinned, “what about you Mr Superintendent?”

“Yuri's grin wavered a bit as he sat back into the booth and closed his eyes, "Not great to be honest, Akaba's been making my life pretty hard at the moment."

Yuto shrugged half-heartedly, “He’s our boss. That’s technically his job. He and the people he sends us to deal with. The combination of those two powers is honestly terrifying.”

Yuri grunted in agreement, “I just wish he would be a bit more… thankful for us breaking our necks all the time for him.”

“We’re doing the best we can, that’s all anyone can ask of us.”

“Well, I for one am very thankful for you boys contributing as much as you do. Makes the world a much safer place for us to live.” Yusho chimed in, a smile on his lips but Yuto could see the sadness behind his soft hazel eyes. The police hadn’t been much help in finding his son after all.

Feeling a twinge of guilt stab him in the stomach, Yuto picked up the menu and scanned the list of food items. Not really feeling drawn to any of the options, he reluctantly decided on ‘the big bar burger’ grimacing at the awful naming.

They chatted briefly, Yoko wanting to know everything they had been doing since they last met two months ago. Yuya came up in the conversation occasionally, but luckily it was always some story about how he, Yuri, Yuto and Yugo had done something stupid as kids. They didn’t bring up why Yuya wasn’t there now.

The food came and they ate in an awkward silence, Yuto not wanting to meet Yusho or Yoko’s gaze. If he was having trouble coping with this day, he couldn’t imagine what they must be going through.

He remembered the night his mother had received the phone call from the police, asking about Yuya. His mother had been tense, insisting on sleeping in his room, for fear that he might disappear as well. Yuto had remembered feeling scared, not wanting to go to school and see Yuya’s empty desk.

The police had searched for days. Then the days turned into months, with no further evidence that suggested the whereabouts of the young boy. His school bag and belongings had been found cast aside in a river. The contents intact and nothing stolen. But Yuya Sakaki himself, it seemed, had dropped off the face of the planet.

The police continued their search for another three years before giving up. Yuto had been in year eight at the time and Yuya’s funeral was one of the last times he’d ever cried. Yuri and Yugo had been there too. The three of them mutually refusing to believe that Yuya was dead.

“He’d not dead! I know it!” A thirteen-year-old Yugo had yelled a week after the funeral. “Yuya can’t be gone! He’s out there somewhere, waiting for us to find him!”

“For once, I agree with the idiot,” Yuri had sighed and Yuto had agreed.

Yuya’s not dead. Even now, 17 years later, Yuto refused to give up on that hope, it was why he, Yuri and Yugo had joined the police force in the first place. Yuya Sakaki was alive, he knew it. The only question was where, and why he hadn’t come home yet.

Yuto was snapped out of his thoughts by ‘Jeremy’ collecting their finished plates. Despite the awful naming skills of the menu writer ‘the big bar burger’ had been surprisingly good. Yuto grinned as Jeremy broke into a cold sweat at the sight of him, clearly, he hadn’t forgotten his observation game earlier. 

Yusho and Yuto paid, much to Yuto’s eternal chagrin at Yugo’s ‘sorry mate, I’m broke’ and Yuri’s casual shrug of ‘I forgot my wallet, plus I thought this was your treat’. Yuto grumbled under his breath as he handed three times the amount of money he thought he’d be paying over to the bored cashier.

As he walked back over Yuri stood, his phone buzzing in his pocket. “I have to take this,” he said casually, holding the phone to his ear and stepping outside.

“Man that food was good!” Yugo grinned, patting his stomach in satisfaction. “Thanks for paying Yuto!”

“Your welcome,” Yuto spat sarcastically, shooting Yugo a glare. “Next time, you’ll be buying.”

“You got it!” Yugo winked, and Yuto turned as Yuri hurried back to the table. Yuto frowned, Yuri’s face was an ashen white and pale.

“Yuto,” he jabbed a finger in his direction, “with me now.”

“What’s wrong?” Yuto asked, “Something come up?”

“That was Akaba, We have a new case.”

Chapter Text

Yuri was the first to make it to the scene.

It was an old house, red-brick with a tiled roof and a neatly kept garden. It was quaint, Yuri supposed, if it wasn’t for the yellow tape across the door and the mass of flashing lights from squad cars out the front. A woman in the back of an ambulance was being comforted by two officers, an orange shock blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

Yuri looked away. Even with his good few years of experience, murder scenes were always the hardest to visit. Especially fresh ones. There was a certain amount of melancholy that lurked in the air; death and violence.

Yuto’s car rounded the corner and Yuri watched as his friend zipped up his jacket and hurried over, wincing at the crowd. That was the other problem with crime scenes. They attracted attention. Yuri scowled, the flashing lights might as well be a giant neon sign broadcasting that someone died here.

A detective spotted them and hurried over, clipboard clasped tightly to her chest. “Superintendent, Chief Inspector, I didn’t realise you were coming.”

Yuri grunted in annoyance and Yuto gave a small smile, “Neither did we, honestly we didn’t want to.”

The detective nodded in understanding and Yuri took a deep breath, “Alright, where are we?”

“Inside.” Yuri and Yuto followed the woman into the house as she began rattling off the details of the victim. “Fifty-six-year-old male. Politician, name; one Mr Strong Ishijima, born January 1962.”

Yuri nodded, gazing at the frames on the walls of the house. They were family photographs, images of a big burly man and a woman.

He looked away as the detective handed them a set of hazmat suits. “Who’s on forensics?” Yuto asked, the detective checked her clipboard briefly.

“Hogan.” She replied, and Yuri groaned.

“Brilliant. We got stuck with the idiot.”

“He’s not an idiot Yuri, just good-natured.”

Yuri glared, and Yuto shrugged, turning back to the woman as she led them into the living room.

Yuto sighed.

In the centre of the room there was a large man, face down in a pool of his own blood. A few officers nodded to them as they walked in. Yuri crouched by the corpse clicking his tongue.

“Cause of death?” Yuri asked, the woman nodded checking her clipboard.

“Head trauma and a struggle seem to be present, but the main cause of death was bullet wound through the left eye. When we remove the body, ballistics can tell us the gun within a few hours after the coroner has dealt with the paperwork.”

Yuri nodded again, reaching out a gloved hand and checking the victim’s pulse. “Do we have a motive yet?”

“None yet sir. The victim was home alone when the murder happened, his wife came home from the store and called as soon as she found him.”

“She’s the one outside?” Yuto asked, crossing his arms. The detective nodded.

“Naruko Ishijima, works in marketing.”

“Have you been able to get anything out of her?”

“No sir. She’s still in shock.”

Yuto walked over and crouched next to Yuri, inspecting the body. “What do you think?” Yuri asked, causing Yuto to look at him.

“What do I think about what?”

Yuri made a gesture to the corpse raising an eyebrow. “What do you think I’m talking about. This. Seems pretty brutal for a simple domestic killing.”

“So… what? Homicide? It could just have easily been a suicide.”

“He shot himself in the left eye? That seems way too unlikely for me. There’s no gun at the crime scene. If there was then we could have left that open ended, unless the wife covered it up.”

“She could have. You say this wasn’t domestic violence, but I’m not ready to rule her out as a prime suspect at this stage.”

“Oh I have no doubt that she needs to be questioned and that she is a crucial link at this point. I’m just pointing out that I don’t think she could have done this.”

“Why?”

Yuri pointed, “Notice the bullet wound. See how it passes directly through the eye, Ishijima’s a tall man. For a bullet to pass through that cleanly in a straight direction, it would have to have been fired from point blank range at that height.” Yuri dropped his hand and looked at Yuto, “The woman outside is of roughly four or five-foot high. Ishijima’s bordering on a strong six. I doubt she would have shot him from her own height.”

“So homicide then. By an external party? A friend, work colleague? I can imagine why you may not be exactly popular in politics, but it’s not like this guy was a major party member. I don’t get what he would have done to earn himself a one way ticket to the choir invisible. Unless…” Yuto sat back on his heels, one hand on his chin, “Wait, Yuri, are you suggesting that this might be a professional killer?”

Yuri shrugged, “It’s a possibility. Look at the handiwork. The bullet passed directly through the left eye and out the back of the head, that has to mean something. Most killers would just aim for the chest, less messy. This however, a politician? The media’s going to have a field day. It was meant to be noticed. You were there in college, what do you remember about serial killers?”

“Yuri, you know as well as I do that a serial killer will require multiple murders. This is just one. He’s got to knock off a few more before we can brand him as that.”

“Just humour me okay? If you haven’t guessed I’m trying for a distraction.”

“A distraction?” Yuto echoed, raising an eyebrow, “From what? Akaba?”

“I think you know that answer. For God’s sake, it’s the same day he went missing. Getting a case like this…”

“I think that you’re reading a little too far into it. It’s just a coincidence. Why would a possible-murder seventeen years later have anything to do with Yuya?”

Yuri sighed, “I don’t know, but again, what do you remember?”

Yuto shrugged, “Mostly that there are two main types. The ones that do it for fun and the ones that do it for attention.”

“So, what would you classify this guy if, hypothetically, this was his first hit of a long stream he has planned?”

“Attention seeker.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because you said it first?”

Yuri rolled his eyes, “Jesus Yuto, please try to take this seriously?”

“Oh I am about as serious as I could be while crouched over a dead corpse with no leads.”

“Fine. Okay. Just… humour me? Please? What makes you say that?”

Yuto observed the dead man in front of him cautiously. “Well it’s just as you said before, the mess. This amount of blood stains carpet, it leaves an everlasting memento in the fabric. It’s brutal. Head trauma was induced, meaning that there was likely a struggle. If this guy had a gun, why didn’t he just shoot Ishijima when he opened the front door? What did he want from him? Our man may have been looking for information on something. When Ishijima either gave it or refused to…” Yuto fingered a gun with his left hand, aiming it at the man’s head, “Bang. Right through the eye.”

“Why the eye do you think? It’s an odd place to shoot someone.”

Yuto shrugged, “Blood spill is one reason, the other could be personal. Many killers like to leave their own stamp on their handiwork. This guy may have experienced something that made him choose the left eye as a target. Or…” Yuto tailed off, it was a possibility.

“Or?”

“He could have meant to show us something…”

Yuri looked at him sideways, “What do you mean?”

“If hit hard and fast enough at a point-blank range, the head is one of the most likely places to cave in. The bullet…”

Yuto stood, circling the body slowly. The man had his head on its side, staring emptily at Yuto’s polished shoes, the eye ruptured and punctured through. There was a mass of sticky blood matting the vibrant purple hair at the back of his head from where the bullet had passed clean through. “The bullet would have continued on…”

Yuto frowned, standing in line with the man’s feet so that he was figuratively in where his line of sight would have been if he was standing. The bullet entered through the eye and out the back of the head, so where did it hit?

Yuto stepped over the corpse, walking in a straight line to the mantle over the fireplace. A vase had been smashed and a corner of the mirror shattered. A minor detail that no one seemed to have noticed yet. Yuri watched his friend in interest as he scanned the broken pieces of crockery. Yuto picked one up inspected it then replaced it carefully back on the mantle.

Yuto signalled to a nearby officer, gently placing the broken shards into a clear, zip-lock evidence bag. Yuto frowned, looking closer. There was something behind the mirror.

Yuto swept the remaining shards into the bag and carefully lifted the mirror away. Placing it on the floor and straightening to see the safe. It was simple and sleek. Embedded into the wall of the house with a simple key-and-combination lock. Smart man. Yuto grinned, a key and combo makes it more difficult to hack or break open electronically.

Even so however, this safe’s lock seemed to have been violently wrenched out of its socket. The combination was set, and the damage seemed recent at a glance. Either Ishijima had forgotten his key, or someone else had broken the lock with some kind of tool. Yuto’s best guess was a crowbar or screwdriver. 

Yuto traced his gloved fingers along the chipped plaster noticing how the alabaster white dust flaked off at his touch. That settled it. New damage.

Yuto looked over his shoulder at Yuri, his friend was watching him, one eyebrow raised in expectation. The other officers had stopped their work as well, all eyes were on him as he gently opened the safe.

It was empty.

Yuto frowned, there was a thin layer of dust coating the black metal base, outlining a rectangular object had until recently been inhabiting the safe. Slowly, Yuto reached in, checking to see if there was anything had been left behind.

His fingers found something, tucked in a corner of the safe, a piece of paper.

Pulling it out Yuto read the print in confusion before handing it over to Yuri.

He frowned. It seemed to be a title page for a larger document.

Project Phantom –  Verification Index ID#47 – Vertex

“What do you suppose that means?” Yuto asked, Yuri shrugged walking back over to the safe and inspecting it closely before reaching in himself and pulling out a smaller note. He froze.

“What?” Yuto asked, “Is there something wrong?”

“Yuto…” Yuri started, “I think we may indeed have a serial killer on our hands.”

Yuto looked at him quizzically, “Why? What does the note say?”

Yuri turned the slip around so Yuto could read the printed message.

“I am the Phantom.” Yuto read aloud, “Welcome to my hell you sons of bitches.”

Chapter Text

Yugo walked into someone, apologised and continued on.

The station was packed with officers and detectives moving every which way. Papers rustled, computer keys clacked and the steady whirring from the station kitchen suggested that the coffee machine was getting a good work out. Yugo was tired, being at work this early in the morning was ridiculous but Yuri wasn’t letting anyone leave until they had a solid lead.

Yugo nodded to a detective and walked into Yuri’s office, closing the door and leaning back against it, arms crossed. “You called?”

Yuri and Yuto looked up from the desk, Yuto visibly relaxing at the sight of him. “Yeah...” He replied, looking like he hadn’t any sleep, Yuri was just as exhausted. “We need all hands-on deck for this one.”

Yugo raised an eyebrow, walking over to peer over Yuri’s shoulder at the electronic folder open on the PC. “A ballistics report? What did I miss out on?”

“What Yuto and I suppose is the first hit in a serial killer case.”

Yugo whistled, leaning back, “Broad accusation, what makes you think that?”

Yuto said nothing, reaching across the desk to pick up the evidence bag, he handed it to Yugo silently, looking down briefly at Yugo’s hands before looking away again.

Yugo frowned, turning the bag over so he could read the note, “The Phantom?” Yugo asked, “Guy’s pretty full of himself isn’t he?”

“Not necessarily…” Yuri mumbled, turning the report towards him, “He left no traces, no fingerprints, no evidence beside that note and the bullet from his gun. Aside from that, nothing, not even a strand of hair. Like he just disappeared.”

“What about the handwriting on the note?” Yugo asked, “We can at least tap into that right?”

Yuto shook his head, “It’s Ishijima’s, the victim. The guy didn’t write it himself.”

Yugo whistled again, “Signature then? MO? You two seriously think this is a hit and not a suicide or something?”

Yuri tapped the keyboard again, bringing up a digital recreation of the murder scene, Yugo peered at the carnage with a scowl, “Jesus.”

“Yeah…” Yuto agreed, “Jesus.”

“You still aren’t convincing me, looks like an over done murder.”

Yuri sighed sitting back against the chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “The shot was fired by a Mk23 semi-automatic handgun. 0.45 Auto Cartridge according to ballistics.” Yuri tapped the keyboard, bringing up an image of the mantelpiece. “The bullet managed to shatter a corner of the mirror, just enough damage for Yuto to find Ishijima’s safe. That note was inside it, along with this…”

Yuri reached for the second evidence bag, waving it half-heartedly in Yugo’s direction.

Yugo inspected the sheet of paper cautiously. Flipping it over to check if anything else was written on the back before passing it back. “Vertex? Project Phantom? Suspicious much?”

“Very,” Yuto nodded, “Ishijima was a politician. So why would he have a page from what seems to be some kind of scientific research paper, titled with the same name his killer uses to send us a warning.”

Yugo threw the paper back on the desk. “This is all just great.”

“You seem disheartened…” Yuri muttered, turning back to the autopsy report lying open on the desk.

“Yeah, well. I’m tired and you two have just told me that we have a murder on our hands.” He rubbed his eyes, “Jesus, I just wish that this could have waited one more week.”

Yuto looked away, he was thinking the same thing. Just one week longer would have given him the sleep and rest he needed to get past everything and move on that little bit more.

Yuto turned on his heel, walking to the door. “Where are you going?” Yuri called after him.

“I’m getting coffee, you two want any?”

“Yeah…” Yugo sighed, “Yeah that would be great… I’ll come too… Yuri?”

“I’m going to stay. You two go…”

Yugo and Yuto walked in silence to the kitchen. There was a steady amount of people in here. Yuto sighed, leaning against the doorframe and tilting his chin to the ceiling in an effort to dull the headache pounding behind his eyes. He really needed to get some sleep.

“So… Phantom…” Yugo muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “Interesting name…”

Yuto grunted in response, “Mm, interesting. This guy seems different to our other cases…”

Yugo looked at him, “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean he…” Yuto sighed, “It sounds stupid. Forget I said anything.”

“Well I can’t do that very well now can I? You just mentioned it!”

Yuto sighed, “I mean this guy… this Phantom… he almost seems… familiar?”

Yugo snorted, “Yeah. No, I actually do kind of get what you mean. It makes no sense though. All we have is a murder scene and a couple of pieces of paper, it feels like we’re dealing with a… I don’t know… a bigger picture than just a serial killer.”

Yuto looked at his friend but said nothing as Yugo continued, “I know I’m not a Chief Inspector or anything like you and Yuri but like… this doesn’t seem as clean cut as you two paint it to be.”

“You’re right…” Yuto whispered, “We have something else on our hands this time around. More than just a serial killer. Actually…”

Yugo waited patiently. Yuto glanced around the kitchen, watching the shadows in the room dance on the polish tiles. Gazing at how the slits in the blinds filtered the dull morning sunlight into slits along the marble bench top. “I’d almost say we’re dealing with an assassin.”

“An assassin?” Yugo echoed, a good dose of disbelief lacing the statement. “That’s a pretty big assumption. You’re making all the irrational leaps today. Suicide to murder. Murder to serial killing and now assassination?”

Yuto frowned at him, “I’m serious Yugo. Think about it. What reason would this guy have to target Ishijima? What has Vertex and this Project Phantom got to do with anything? It almost sounds like some kind of underground organisation.”

“Are you about to tell me that a bunch of cultists sacrificed Ishijima for a satanic ritual!? Jesus Christ Yuto, you are seriously delirious from lack of sleep.”

“What? No! Why would you think that a cult of all things was behind this!”

“Isn’t that the idea behind all investigations like this? All options are available until you have the evidence to rule out certain paths?”

“Well yes, but there is no evidence to back up a claim of cultists.”

“This is still open ended though. Beside who else would be a secret underground organisation? This is real life! Not Mission Impossible!”

Yuto rubbed his eyes, “It was just an option. The likelihood is slim at best.”

“Yeah, you don’t say. Slim is good. Let’s keep it at slim. Here.”

Yugo and Yuto made it to the coffee machine, Yugo grabbing the nearest cup and jamming his finger against the strong, black cappuccino, “You need this way more than I do.”

“Thanks…” Yuto mumbled, taking the cup from Yugo and wincing at the temperature as he took a sip. “Ah hot!”

Yugo chuckled as he pressed the flat-white button, “What do you expect?”

“Not much it seems…”

When they returned to Yuri’s office he was on the phone to someone, his back to them and chair facing the window.

Creeping in, Yuto and Yugo heard the last snippets of conversation before Yuri slammed the phone down on the desk in annoyance.

“Yes. Of course, sir… No, I’ll get on to it… I’ll send some detectives over now… right… okay. I’m working on it… Well you can’t expect me to have any leads only five hours into investigation! Yes, okay, bye.”

Yuri cursed, loudly, and sat back in the chair arm across his eyes. “I can’t be seriously working for this moron can I!? The hell kind of mess is this!”

Yuto pressed first, setting his cup on the filing case before leaning against it. “Who was that?”

“Who do you goddamn think Yuto? Fucking Akaba.”

“What did he want?” Yugo asked, cautiously lingering by the door in case he needed to get out of Yuri’s range of annoyance.

“Two!”

Yuto blinked, and Yugo was just as confused, “Two what?”

“Two of them this time, confirmed Mieru Houchun and Eita Kyuando.”

Yuto felt himself go cold, “Are you sure? This early in?”

“Apparently Akaba is. Same way and everything.”

“Uh… what are you two going on about this time?”

Yuto looked at him, “I don’t believe it but… the Phantom’s killed again…”

Yugo looked at him, trying to gauge if he was joking, “You’re kidding right? It’s only been like… what? Twelve hours since Ishijima?”

Yuto nodded, “But there’s something else this time right? I read Houchun’s file. She worked as a PA.”

“So did Kyuando. For Ishijima.” Yuri sighed, “Both were reported missing only days ago, now they are found dead and lying in a mining quarry just outside of town. Bullets through their left eyes, same as Ishijima.”

“So what’s different?”

“The Phantom left us another message. Who’s next.”

Yugo frowned, “Why, what did he say?”

Yuri held up his phone, revealing a photo of a bloody note with an address. “Town Hall. 7:00. All swans are ugly ducklings on the inside.”

Chapter Text

Yuri cursed as he hit the next traffic light, stopping for the fifth time since leaving ‘The Bar’. This was their one shot at catching this guy red handed, if he was going to let the goddamn, oblivious moron in the white Toyota, ruin it…

Yuri slammed the horn in annoyance. “Learn to fucking drive!” He yelled at the driver, fully aware the man couldn’t hear him, but it made him feel better. That’s all that counted.

Sawatari had to be who the Phantom meant in the note. It was obscure, of course it was. But he was leaving them a trail of breadcrumbs. Kyuando had been Ishijima’s PA for almost nine years up until last night. Yuri hadn’t though much of his disappearance, nor the disappearance of Meiru Houchun until all three of them had turned up dead. The PA’s had been subtle warnings.

Houchun had been under Sawatari’s employ. She was another character that seemingly had no connection to the case outside of her job description. As far as he could tell, Ishijima and Kyuando may have been nothing more than a test for the Phantom to see the extent that he could ruffle the police force’s feathers, before he went in for the main event.

Yuri slammed his fist down on the horn again. The town hall was three minutes away, where the local city councilman Furio Sawatari was planning to make a speech. The guy was demanding, patriotic, short, loud and had a snowball’s chance in hell at getting Yuri’s vote.

Needless to say, he must have something that made the majority of the known populous swing in his favour. Yuri just didn’t see it. 

The idiot in the Toyota turned down a side street and Yuri almost cheered. “Finally!” He yelled and sped away, fully aware he was driving at 90 in a 60 zone. But if it meant catching this Phantom, did he really care?

The thought that he should probably try and make sure good ol’ Furio lived to see his next election, crossed his mind but Yuri beat it away with an angry mental stick. The Phantom was the only reason he was going to town hall tonight. Mr Sawatari? He couldn’t care less about him, if it wasn’t for his status and the ‘law’, Yuri would have done away with the detestable man himself.

He stole a glance in the rear-view mirror, making sure Yuto was following. The familiar number plate was illuminated in the dark, the darkened figures of two men in the front seats. Good, Yugo was with him.

He turned the corner and inhaled sharply, the town hall was ahead. A silent line of police cars waited patiently for his orders. The flashing red and blue lights were the only rhythmic movement on the darkened street.

Everything was in place for the show, they just needed their star.

Yuri parked and immediately got out, followed quickly by Yuto and Yugo. They were silent, serious, this wasn’t the time to make jokes.

Yuri set to work, checking the cartridge on his revolver to make sure it held bullets. This could get messy, the Phantom more than likely had his signature Mk23, this was a trained killer they were dealing with. Someone who knew the ins and outs of the art of murder, who committed homicide as a daily job, the Phantom probably already knew of their presence. If this guy lived up to his reputation however, they’d be no reason for him to abandon his mission.

They would have to play it smart to catch a ghost.

Yuto followed his lead, snapping the butt of his gun against his palm to make sure the chamber was firmly locked in place, flicking the cylinder so that the first round of bullets lined up with the hammer. Yuri nodded, “You ready?”

“Not really,” Yuto gave a weak smile, “we’re dealing with a master assassin after all, it’s his job to kill people.” Yuri quirked his mouth into a grin.

“True that, you scared Chief Inspector?” Yuto rolled his eyes, a strained smile playing on his lips.

“As if Superintendent.” Yuri only smiled wider, stealing a glance over his shoulder to where Yugo was briefing the other officers in Yuto’s squad on the situation, and the plan Yuri had given on the phone.

Furio Sawatari was scheduled to arrive at 7:00. Because of his loud and pompous personality, he would likely park out the front to make a big deal of his arrival. This is where Yugo would meet him, dressed in casual clothing he seemed the least conspicuous. Yugo would inform him of their intentions, telling him to act as casually as he could. They weren’t going to let anything happen that would end in his unfortunate and untimely demise.

Sawatari will be seated on stage as a member of the city council introduced him. He would be at his safest when delivering his speech. According to the Phantom’s MO, he wasn’t likely to kill in an open area. He would keep it secret, secluded from large crowds. But he also would most certainly be watching.

Sawatari will finish his speech at approximately 7:45, step down from the stage and be taken immediately into the protective custody of the police. Yuri and Yuto themselves will oversee his protection until he is returned safely to his house while Yugo and Yuto’s squad continued to search the town hall for the Phantom.

The plan would work. It had to work. The worst-case scenario was that Sawatari, or an officer would end up getting themselves killed. Yuri checked his watch as he secured the bullet-proof vest to his chest, sticking the earpiece in and giving the signal to Yuto. It was time.

“Look alive boys!” Yuri called, swinging round to face the group of officers, hands on his hips and a smile dancing across his face, “Operation Spectre is a go!”

The man watched, concealed in the shadows, perched on the edge of the roof. Gazing down at the blinking lights of police cars, the scuttling of people. From here they could have been no more than the size of insects. They were curious to watch. Their bustling and urgency. If only they knew how pointless it all was.

Three men seemed to be in charge. The man with the dark hair was saying something to the violet- haired leader, across from them another, a blonde and navy-hair was barking orders.

Something prickled at the back of the man’s mind. A fleeting, misguided wisp of something. Anxiously, curiously, he reached for it, reached for the something. It dissipated. Retreating back into the dark shadows of his mind.

“You ready?” The voice floated over the earpiece, softly, calmly and he stood. Pulling the hood low over his eyes. Obscuring the jagged scar over his left eye, the gun and knife at his belt.

He sighed, “Yeah.”

Furio Sawatari’s black Mercedes rounded the corner and just like Yuri had predicted, stopped outside the front of the town hall.

Yugo ran over, concealing his revolver and holster as best he could under the hem of his button up shirt. The man got out, dressed in a horrible mauve suit, the few hair he had was slicked back, oily and plastered to his scalp.

“Mr Sawatari?” Yugo inquired, the man narrowed his eyes.

“What do you want?” His voice was gruff, unwelcoming and very annoyed as Yugo stepped closer. Even from his position by the town hall entrance Yuri marvelled at how a fully-grown man could only be as tall as Yugo’s bellybutton.

“My name is Yugo Atlus, I’m with the police.” Sawatari’s eyes narrowed further as Yugo held up his badge. Sawatari suddenly looked nervous, sweating, Yuri could see it from the door. What was this man worried about?

“I ain’t done nothin’ wrong!” He exclaimed, accusingly, throwing his hands up. Yugo sighed.

“Mr Sawatari, I am asking you simply to remain calm. I am not accusing you of anything.” The man relaxed, a flash of genuine relief showing on his face. Yuri crossed his arms and put his hand on his chin, there was more to this.

“We have reason to believe that a criminal will be present here tonight. In order to apprehend him, we will require your cooperation.”

Sawatari paled again, his sweaty face whitening, but said nothing. “Mr Sawatari?” Yugo pressed, “will you cooperate peacefully?”

Sawatari nodded his head slowly, looking ashen. But somewhat composed, as Yugo led the way into the hall.

The speech was boring. Yuto had to slap Yugo no less than seven times to stop him falling asleep. Yuri couldn’t blame him as he felt his own eyelids begin to droop. Sawatari was saying something about promises and politics. There was a reason he never paid attention to that kind of stuff in school.

When Sawatari finished, Yuri reluctantly joined in on the chorus of half-hearted clapping that was more out of relief than appreciation. Several people towards the back seemed to think that Sawatari was some kind of God in human form as they rose, clapping and cheering with everything they had.

Yuri rolled his eyes.

The presentation finished, and Yuri immediately walked to the stage, they couldn’t leave even the smallest margin for error. The Phantom was here, somewhere in the crowd, present, and probably watching them right now.

Yuri threw a cautionary glance over his shoulder, at the quickly trickling crowd, somewhere… Somewhere…

Heads faced the opposite way, different colours splashed the shirts, different patterns. Flurrying, hurrying. Somewhere…

The movement was dizzying, the rush, the reporter cameras bobbing up and down. Overweight men following official women in gaudy shades of pink and yellow, men in business suits. All of them moving… Moving towards the door… All of them. Except…

The man in the back. The only one not bolting for the exit. The one in the hoodie. He was watching him.

“Yuri!” Yuri whipped his head to Yuto’s panicked and wide-eyed face. Taking his narrowed eyes off the man at the back.

“What?!” Yuri snapped.

“Sawatari’s gone.” Yuto said curtly, breathing heavily as if he had been running and Yuri swung his eyes to the stage. It was empty. The short fat man nowhere in sight. Damnit, he’d known the man would be a problem.

“Find him,” he barked, watching as Yuto hurried away. He turned back to the man in the hoodie.

But he was already gone.

Sawatari was running. Sweating and panting through the twisted maze of town hall’s backstage. Diving in and out behind stage props used for the local primary school’s plays. He knocked over a cardboard reindeer and cursed as he hit an unseen demonic Easter bunny. The shadow followed.

He made it to the bathroom and practically fell inside. Scuffling he threw himself in the nearest cubical and locked the door. He could hide in here. Hide till it passed.

The shadow smiled. The loud bang reverberating around the darkened stage. It drew it’s gun, clicking the silencer to the end with a snap. It’s prey had just unwittingly sealed its fate.

Sawatari cowered, trembling he tucked his legs to his chest. His lower lip quivering. He was safe in here right? He was okay. Fumbling he reached for his phone. He needed help, anyone who could come to his rescue.

With shaking fingers he dialled. His wife picked up.

“Honey?” Shit. The volume.

Sawatari whimpered as her voice sounded through the darkened bathroom, louder than he would have hoped. He dropped the phone. Giving a small yelp as the clatter echoed through the room.

The door opened and he froze. It swung shut and Sawatari clapped a hand over his mouth to stop the scream.

The shadow’s footsteps were slow. Precise and cautious. As they made its way down the line of cubicals, edging its way to where the cowering man was shaking in terror.

Maybe it would go away? Go away and leave him.

“Honey are you there?” His wife’s voice floated through the speakers at full blast, the volume still on loud speaker. Furio Sawatari whimpered in fright and the shadow stopped.

It smiled. Swinging it’s head to the end of the row. The last door.

Found you.

Yugo drew his gun, flanked by a group of officers and Yuto they stalked the backstage passages. It was dark, impossibly dark, but they had more than one reason to be on the lookout for the disappeared politician.

Yuto walked at his side, this was the last corridor. Yugo signalled to the officers and they moved forward, splitting up and checking each of the four doors on either side. Yuto looked at him and Yugo nodded. There was only one door left, the bathroom at the far end.

When each officer came back clean, giving the signal that their room was clear, Yugo gulped.

“Together?” He whispered. Yuto only nodded, flicking the safety of his gun off as they began to walk, cautiously the eyes of the four officers watched as Yugo and Yuto made it to the door.

Yuto held up his free hand, fingers splayed, counting down. Three.

Yugo gripped his gun tighter. Two.

Yuto closed his eyes and took a deep breath. One.

“Freeze!” Yuto yelled, steadying the gun with his other hand, aiming point blank at the man’s head as he turned. Lips curling into a small smile under the hood.

The lifeless body that had once been Furio Sawatari lay behind him, a bullet through his wide left eye. Horror painted across his face and the stained tiles still warm and sticky with the ever increasing pool of blood. Yuto cursed and tightened his grip.

Yugo was behind him, an unreadable expression on his face. Stepping through the door, he too raised his weapon to meet the assassin. Gritting his teeth at the scene.

“Hands up Phantom, we have you surrounded.”

“Oh?” The voice was low, soft and emotionless, making the hair on the back of Yuto’s neck prickle with faint recognition.

The man raised his head, turning to face them with a smile. Slowly he lifted the hood away, revealing his face in the dim light.

Yugo whitened and Yuto cursed, biting back shock, annoyance, relief and horror.

There was no way, it was impossible.

He was older, taller, more strongly built, with a set jaw and scar running the length of his face. He was standing over the body of a man he had just killed, blood staining the hem line of his black jeans. His expression holding none of the warmth it once had. A bright smile replaced with a cold, almost merciless grin.

But there was no question. The dual red and green hair that stuck out in odd positions, the single strand that refused to stay down even after all these years. The deep crimson eyes that now almost glowed blood red in the light. It was impossible, but it was.

Yuto stared wide eyed, lowering his gun a fraction of an inch as he whispered a name, a single name that belonged to someone he had thought had been lost 17 years ago.

“Yuya.”

Chapter Text

“Yuya, it’s you isn’t it? You’re really… I can’t believe it.” Yugo tripped over his words as the fell heavy and cotton from his mouth. He was here, in front of him, standing, upright, alive. Yugo lowered his gun and stepped towards his old friend.

Yuya’s eyes narrowed as he raised his Mk24 to meet Yugo’s face. Yugo blinked, staring down the barrel with wide eyes. “Yuya?”

“What’s wrong officer?” Yuya’s voice lilted, Yugo cursed, reaching back for his gun, “Didn’t you have me surrounded? This is normally the point where you pull out the shackles.”

Yugo bit back his anger, “Yuya it’s us!” Yuto suddenly yelled, not moving an inch nor dropping his gun’s aim. “Yuto and Yugo!”

Yuya smiled sweetly, letting a laugh escape his lips, “Why should those names mean anything to me?”

Yugo took a step back in shock. “We… I…” The words didn’t come. Yuya didn’t remember them?

Yuto grit his teeth, cursing low, this wasn’t Yuya. This man that stood in front of him now. This killer that was standing over a dead corpse. There was no way it was the same person that had befriended them all those years ago.

It was a joke. A cruel and vicious joke the Phantom was playing on them. Yuto swallowed his shock and raised the gun again.

“I warn you Phantom. One move and I will pull the trigger. I have a good, sturdy pair of shackles with your name on them.”

“Yuto.” Yugo hissed, Yuto shot him a look that shut him up immediately.

“Phantom. You are under arrest for murder and assassination. I warn you that anything you say will be taken into account and used against you in court. Drop the weapon and turn to face the wall with your hands behind your head.”

The Phantom with Yuya’s face gave another smile, shrugging his shoulders.  “And if I refuse?”

“Then I will shoot you right here and now. Today has been a hard day for me. I lost a friend a few years back. For you to have the audacity to appear as him now...”

“Are you talking about me?” The Phantom asked, feigning hurt. “Strange I don’t remember you.”

“That’s precisely why you are coming with us. I don’t know what you’ve done with the Yuya Sakaki I knew, but I am almost certain that you,” he nodded in the Phantom’s direction, “are a fake.”

The Phantom laughed, doubling over and gasping for breath. “Oh that is cute! You are hilarious. I must admit that I am surprised that you knew that name, I discarded it a while ago, but a fake?” The Phantom took a step towards Yuto. Yuto didn’t move or flinch as he pressed his forehead to Yuto’s gun.

“Go ahead, I’d rather die by the hand of a friend.”

Yuto looked at the imposter, staring into his deep crimson eyes. They were dull, almost… lifeless. Yuto hesitated. Those eyes, that face… The face he’d missed seeing for 17 years, the face he’d searched for, the face he’d seen just out of reach, in a crowd or at a bar. He’d see that face everywhere, and every time it had been another lie, another trick of the mind reminding him that Yuya wasn’t coming back.

That he was gone forever and their efforts to find him would only lead to dead ends.

Yuto gazed into that face, watching as the lifeless eyes closed in disappointment, the man stepping back with a sigh. “That is a shame, here I was thinking that you might actually have been more than just talk.”

Yuto cursed himself, this was their chance, their one chance to catch the Phantom.

And he was letting it slide.

“Phantom, I am not going to shoot you. But I am also not going to ask again, please drop your weapon and face the wall.”

“You know.” Yuto stiffened, the Phantom’s voice had suddenly grown low and cold, a dramatic comparison to the lilting, playful malice it had held only moments earlier. “I think I do remember you. I remember you abandoned me.”

“What?” Yuto asked, “what are you talking about?”

The Phantom’s eyes snapped to him, a scowl on his face, “I—” He was cut off. The Phantom’s eyes narrowed, his frown deepening, silently held up a hand, pressing his finger to his ear and turning away, “Aww~ But it’s just finally getting interesting over here.”

Yuto and Yugo gripped the weapons a little tighter. He was talking to someone.

“Fine then.” The Phantom huffed. “I’ll be there soon.”

The Phantom turned on them again, a smile dancing on his lips once more. It was as if the cold killer had melted off him like ice. “Sorry boys, hate to do this to you but I have to run. Problematic bosses and all that, you know what it’s like.” 

Yugo cursed, finally snapping out of it enough to raise his gun. “How do you think you are getting away?” He asked, “you’re surrounded.”

The Phantom turned, looking down at Sawatari’s body with a small smile as he shifted the dead man’s flabby forearm onto the tip of his boot, watching as it made a satisfying sucking noise, unsticking itself from the drying blood. It fell back limply with a thud.

The Phantom smiled, flicking his eyes up to them, “I must say, this has been fun. Never had someone here to fully appreciate my handiwork directly after a hit. Well, I mean, you’re not the first to actually see the result, but you know, it has been nice chatting to you about it.”

“We haven’t asked you anything about Sawatari yet Phantom.” Yuto hissed, “That kind of deal is reserved for when you are in our custody.”

“Bingo.” The Phantom snapped his fingers, “And that’s exactly where I am not going to go tonight.” He made a show of checking his watch and pouting, “You want information on Sawatari? While I can’t tell you who my client was this evening, I can say that this wasn’t an unjustified act.”

“You murdered the next mayor.”

The Phantom waved a hand, “Minor detail, I don’t suppose you knew what he was planning to do once he was in that office do you?”

Yuto raised an eyebrow. “What are you insinuating?”

The Phantom shrugged, “Afraid I can’t tell you. Classified and all that, my client doesn’t want certain amounts of intel to be leaked to the public until my handiwork is splashed across the morning newspaper’s front page. Look out for anonymous tips boys, I might be feeling nice one day.”

Yuto gripped the gun again, “You are not goin—”

He was cut off as an officer burst through the door. “Inspector Kurosaki, Sergeant Atlas!”

“What?” Yugo snapped, turning to face him, “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“I know sir, but it’s Superintendent Marufuji, he’s been shot sir.”

“Yuri has?!” Yugo asked, a cold pit of dread nestling in his stomach, “How bad?”

“The wound isn’t fatal, but he’s losing a lot of blood sir.”

“Yuto…” Yugo started, turning back to face his friend, but stopped.

“What?” Yuto asked, staring at Yugo’s wide-eyed face, “What Atlas?”

“The… Yuya’s gone…”

Yuto cursed loudly, dropping the gun with a wince as he turned back to Sawatari’s lifeless body with a sigh.

The Phantom was nowhere to be seen.

***

Yuya pulled the hood low over his eyes, shadowing them as he exited the town hall. He quietly holstered his gun at his belt, out of sight to prying eyes.

It was effortless to run through the city. Too easy to conceal himself amongst the hurrying crowds as he moved with them. The best way to blend in was to become another brainless sheep. If you walked the other way, your independence would stick out like a sore thumb.

Especially if you were the wolf.

Yuya pulled to a stop beside the road, hailing a cab. The cliché assassins he’d seen in the movies were so predictably stealthy. They thought that sticking to the shadows was the best course of action, that leaping from rooftop to rooftop made them seem like professionals. Oh if only they knew how wrong they were.

Yuya gave a low mirthless chuckle to himself, that, of course didn’t mean it was a worthless method of escape when need be. The cab pulled up and he slipped in silently,

“Where to?” The cab driver asked lazily, sounding like he was running purely on caffeine at this point.

“Docks,” Yuya replied curtly, watching the man out of the corner of his eye from under the hood as he studied him. With a shrug the middle-aged man turned back to the wheel, yawning before he switched the headlights and engine back on.

Yuya hated taking cabs. The drivers were always incompetent and asked for too much money. The back of the cars were always littered with rubbish; smelling of cigarette butts and the likely countless amounts of people who had thrown up over the leather seats after a long night of drinks.

Yuya shuddered in disgust, he was a trained assassin, and yet, the smell of fresh blood or of decaying flesh was never going to be as awful as the back of this guy’s cab.

He’d rather be riding his motorbike to the rendezvous, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers when half of the given police force in the city currently wanted his head.

Yuya sighed, he’d been careless tonight. He’d let two officers see his face. And they recognised him as well. Zarc had been right.

It was dangerous to dabble in the past.

Yuya sat back and watched the sheep walk past the window as the cabby took him to his destination.

Paying the driver Yuya got out, shivering and pulling further down on the hood of his jacket as the sea breeze whipped through him. It had been raining, the cement still slick with puddles and damp. Stuffing his hands in his pockets Yuya walked to the jetty, taking the first right towards the warehouse.

No one was here tonight, the shipping crates closing in like an impossible maze as Yuya walked among them. If you knew where to go down here, there was no way you could get lost.

He stopped, reaching for his gun. Something wasn’t right, someone was following him. Yuya gave a small smile, fingers closing around the trigger as he moved his gun from his holster to his hand.

There was a rush of movement and Yuya whirled and shot. The bullets ricocheting as they hit point blank into a container. The shadow dropped and Yuya’s grin widened, a flash of steel illuminating in the dim glow of the nearby street light.

Yuya dodged and spun, catching his assailant’s wrist and twisting, causing them to drop the knife, with a whirl he pushed the arm upwards, skipping back when the second blade came at him. Hopping back Yuya smiled as the shadow darted forward, lunging the blade towards his chest.

Yuya dodged, getting behind and gripping the person around their neck. Pressing gently against the windpipe. “Got you.”

“Oh haha.” The familiar voice growled in annoyance, and he let go.

“You’ve really got to stop trying to attack me every time I walk through the door. Selena.”

The girl huffed, picking her fallen blade up out of a puddle before sheathing it at her hip. “Well you have to stop coming back so late. Zarc’s been worried sick about you.”

“Has he now? That’s… uncharacteristically nice of him.”

“Oh I think he was more worried about how much you screwed up this time.”

“Hey, I got the kill right? That’s three more than you by the way, our bet is over next month.”

She flicked a strand of azure hair out of her face, glowering. Her hood had fallen back during their fight, revealing her green eyes. “Whatever, Phantom, I’ll get back up there soon enough.”

“Oh sure. Moonlight. You keep trying, somehow I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere with that lousy stance.”

He left her fuming with annoyance as he opened the door to the warehouse.

***

“Yuri!” Yuto called, stumbling out the front of the hall as the ambulance arrived. There was a small congregation of officers milling around a mass on the floor, pressing bloodied shirts and bandages to someone’s shoulder.

Yugo joined him, pushing through the crowd to kneel by their friend. Yuri looked bad, he was pale and breathing laboured. Blood was slowly trickling from a bullet hole in his left shoulder.

He looked up and rolled his eyes at their expressions, “I’ll be alright. Minor setback that’s all.”

“You were shot.” Yugo said dumbly, staring open mouthed at the wound.

“Yes, Einstein, thanks for noticing.” He flicked his gaze over to Yuto frowning slightly. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“I…” Yuto couldn’t say anything as the paramedics pushed past him, gently lifting Yuri onto the stretcher. Yuri cried out from the movement, but grit his teeth against the pain.

As Yuto and Yugo watched Yuri get loaded into the ambulance, Yuto gave a sigh,

“Yuri… I think we just did.”

Chapter Text

“What?!” Yuri screeched, sitting bolt upright but immediately regretting it as his shoulder exploded in pain. The stitches pulling, bandages stretching tight across his chest.

“Take it easy.” Yugo hissed, Yuto pushing him back against the propped up hospital bed.

“Oh yeah, how exactly can I do that now?” Yuri winced with a glare, “Are you two seriously telling me you missed him? Am I supposed to tell the Commissioner that we failed to not only apprehend the Phantom, but we also failed to protect Sawatari. Not that I cared, but that was the whole basis of the mission.”

“Yuri… you don’t understand…”

“You’re right, I don’t. You two are my most trusted and top officers in the precinct, and yet you had a mass assassin at gunpoint, and he still managed to escape.”

“Yuri—” Yuto started, but Yugo interrupted;

“Why do you think Yuto refrained from pulling that trigger dickhead?” Yuri blinked at him, eyes narrowing at the insult.

“Because he’s soft. He couldn’t see or do what needed to be done, I don’t care if the Phantom was alive or dead, but getting someone like that off the streets was the top priority.”

“Wrong answer.” Yugo hissed, voice lowering to almost a whisper, “Yuto is a Chief Inspector. You don’t get a title like that by dicking around or being soft. I’ve seen him on the field Yuri, you have too. He’s a better goddamn shot than the two of us combined!”

“So, what? So if Yuto wasn’t being soft, why the hell am I sitting in a hospital with a bullet in my shoulder? Why aren’t I sitting in an interrogation room investigating the motive behind the latest in a string of assassinations? Hmm? Riddle me that. Why aren’t I standing in front of a handcuffed Phantom?”

Yugo sighed, looking to Yuto for help. Yuto grit his teeth angrily, slamming his fist against the window before leaning into his forearm, the cold of the glass pressed against his skin.

“We saw his face Yuri. The Phantom’s face.” Yuto’s voice was barely audible, low and threatening.

“At least there’s that, you can at least get a sketch-artist in to re—”

Yuto gave a short burst of harsh laughter, “You don’t get it!?” Pushing off the glass, Yuto swung to Yuri so fast it made him flinch. Yuto was shaking with anger, hands curled into tight fists at his side. “We saw his face Yuri… The Phantom… we… we recognised him.”

“Then give me a goddamn name Kurosaki! If you got the name and the face why the hell aren’t you reporting it?! I am your superior, and we’re all in deep shit with Akaba if you don’t tell me right now who the goddamn Phantom is!”

Yuto looked like he was about to self-combust in a raging ball of pure fury. He opened his grey eyes to snap at the man lying in the bed and Yugo blinked in small surprise. He was crying.

“Fine then Yuri. You want to know who the fuck I saw under that hood? Who I fucking saw standing over a dead body with a gun in his hands?!”

Yuri was glaring at Yuto as he shouted, Yugo closed his eyes and looked away as Yuto said it, spoke the truth, what he and Yugo had seen.

Yugo was never going to be able to shake that memory from his head. The corpse, the blood, the man’s cold grin as he lifted the black hood away from the face Yugo had longed to see for 17 years.

“Yuya. Yuri. The Phantom is Yuya Sakaki.”

Yugo, under different circumstances, might have wished for a camera at that moment to catch Yuri’s expression.

Silence reigned for a few minutes as Yuri tried to comprehend the information Yuto had just given him. Then his eyes widened.

“You’re kidding… That… that’s… that’s not…”

“Not possible?” Yuto asked, finishing Yuri’s sentence, “I saw him Yuri… Yuya’s alive.”

“No… no… that can’t be right,” Yuri was staring at his callused hands now, wringing the cheap fabric of the blanket between them, face ashen white and eyes wide, “Yuya’s… But Yuya’s...”

“Dead?” Yuto finished, verbalising what he and Yugo had been thinking for the past few hours, “That’s what we all thought wasn’t it Yuri? That Yuya was dead, that he was gone and wasn’t coming back. That’s where every lead led us right? Dead ends.”

Yugo looked away as Yuto wiped at the angry tears streaming down his cheeks. Yuto had never been able to accept Yuya’s disappearance. He had been the closest to the boy out of the three of them.

At one point it had just been those two, just Yuya and Yuto. They had been inseparable since kindergarten, never caring for any other kids until Yugo had joined the little group in Year 3. Yuri shortly after in Year 4. They hadn’t expected their tight-knit group of four to be reduced to three as suddenly as mid-way through Year 5.

At the funeral they had sworn an oath. That no matter what happened to them, they would continue to search for Yuya. Continue following even the barest of whispers that promised anything of their missing friend.

When the leads ran dry however, the small room at the back of the police station began to collect dust. Still littered with photographs, maps and notes. Yuya’s bag left hanging in the corner, moth-eaten and worn with age. The only solid link or piece of him left to hold on to.

They never gave up, but also knew that digging for something that wasn’t there was a fruitless and ultimately unprofitable way to spend their time.

Cases got bigger, their positions climbed, but still the room lay as it was. They searched for 15 years before deciding that they needed to move on. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it had been the best thing to do. Keep their eyes on the horizon. If they let themselves wallow in nostalgia, or dive too deep into the past.

They may never be able to get back up.

Yuri looked shell-shocked, “No…” He whispered, gripping the blanket so hard his knuckles turned white. “No that’s impossible…”

“Yuya’s the Phantom Yuri.”

“No.”

“He’s the mass murderer, the assassin we’ve been searching for.”

“No…”

“Do you understand now why I couldn’t shoot him? How the hell do you expect me to shoot my best friend? Our best friend.”

“I said NO!” Yuri suddenly shouted, sitting bolt upright with a wince, ignoring the pain he glared in defiance at Yuto’s face, “I refuse to believe that. Yuya’s dead. It’s easier to live with that truth than to… to… accept the alternative. You must have been mistaken Kurosaki. I’m sorry, but Yuya’s dead. The stress of the day must have gone—”

“I know what I saw Yuri.” Yuto hissed back lowering his voice to nearly a whisper. “I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to accept that either. Accept that my best friend is a killer? That’s he’s alive and running around killing people as a job? Living the last 17 years thinking he was dead or something worse was already shattering enough. But this? You think I like this? You think I would lie about something like this? Yuya… He… he doesn’t remember us Yuri. He didn’t know who we were…”

Yuri’s anger diminished to shock again within a matter of seconds, “He… he didn’t know who you were?”

Yuto turned away, looking out at the glimmering lights of the city outside the hospital window, “It… it was like he was looking at a stranger… despite everything we’d been through together… He…” Yuto choked, “What do you think happened to him Yuri? Why… why would he be doing what he’s doing?”

Yuri stared at the floor, feeling tears in his eyes for the first time in years. “I don’t know Yuto… I… I don’t know what to think…”

Yuya grinned silently to himself as he stepped into the warehouse.

It was large and spacious in here, the flood lights that stringed the high ceilings leaving pools of silver on the concrete floor. Trickling away to darkness the closer it was to the graffiti covered walls. Chains occasionally hung down in areas, the orange glow from street lamps filtering through the cracked, fogged glass of windows.

It smell of ash and cigarette butts in here, mostly quiet quiet save for the soft, distant tune grating out of the old radio. Yuya stopped and listened for a moment; 'Kids with Guns' by Gorillaz. How ironic

It seemed Yuzu Hiiragi wasn’t here yet, probably still on her way back from town hall. Shooting a high-ranked officer to cover Yuya for a distraction was a sure cut love message from the Siren. He didn’t mind. He would wait until his girlfriend got back to thank her properly.

Equilibrium. That was the name Zarc had chosen for them. A freelance group of assassins that provided services to the right people for the right amount of cash. Their motive was simple; as their name suggested, it was balance. Working off the grid to make sure that those within it didn’t need to get their hands dirty to put the wrong people in the right place.

Yuya snorted in dull laughter. That had been the explanation Zarc had given him when he first joined. But phrasing it in such a way made them seem like some kind of vigilante group of heroes. They were anything but. They were killers, plain and simple. Killers that simply did their job for the fun and the pay check.

It didn’t mean that Yuya didn’t take something from the job. But it wasn’t fulfilment he felt when he killed. It was hunger and joy. Somedays that scared him, that maybe he was some kind of demon in human form. But if he was being truthful, he took pride in his abilities as the definitive strongest among the members of Equilibrium.

Killing was a part of it, but it was the chase and the struggle; that was the true thrill of the hunt.

“Well, I’m here, what did you want from me?” Yuya shouted into the darkness, sounding bored.

“You screwed up.” The man spoke as he emerged from the shadows.

Yuya rolled his eyes in exasperation, “I got the kill, isn’t that all that matters?”

“No. You got the kill, then cornered yourself in a bathroom with two high-ranking officers. You’re lucky I had the foresight to send Yuzu after you to give you a distraction, otherwise you’d be on your merry way to a prison cell without trial.”

Selena walked in, a smug look across her face as she strode past Yuya to stand at the man’s side.

“Told you he wasn’t happy.” She grinned, crossing her arms. The man beside her was of average height, with cautious golden eyes and untamed dual white and green hair.

“Yeah, I saw that, I still don’t get why though. What’s the big problem, I got the kill, I got out, I wasn’t followed, I didn’t leave any traces.”

“Oh yeah, you just allowed two officers to see you mid-act. Way to go jackass.” Selena grinned, Yuya pouted and looked away, lowering the hood from his head.

“They recognised you didn’t they?” Zarc spoke and Yuya froze, hood mid-way down from his head, “I can tell from the look on your face, you’re curious.”

“I… I want to know what happened in my past.” Yuya said, his voice lowering to a half-whisper, “I have a gaping hole where everything before these last five years should be. Do you realise how frustrating that is?”

“Of course I do. But you can’t know.”

“Well why the hell not Zarc?” Yuya hissed, putting a hand up to his head, covering his left eye, hiding the jagged scar and slipping strands of his green hair through his fingers. “I… I’ve never met someone who’d known my name… I… They… they knew who I was…”

“Nothing good can come from you trying to find out what happened before I found you Yuya. You won’t ever forgive yourself if you knew who you were.”

“But that’s precisely why I need to know. I need to know who I am so I can move on! You know what I'm talking about! What it’s like living with the knowledge of how to hold a gun, how to kill. But not knowing who your parents were, what your purpose is or why on earth you can’t remember anything in the first place!” Yuya took a shaky breath closing his eyes. “I…I just want to know who I am…”

A hand rested on his shoulder and Yuya looked up to meet Zarc’s face in surprise. “I know this is hard, but you need to accept that the past is a dangerous place, don’t trust anyone so lightly Yuya. Wasn’t that the first thing I taught you? Those policemen can’t help you, they will only throw you in chains.”

Yuya sighed, looking up at Zarc's older face with a scowl. "I don't understand you, you're not even slightly curious as to who you are, you just accept this!"

"I don't 'accept' this Yuya. I just don't see the benefit in knowing the past. My place is in the future. As is yours."

Yuya glowered at him, "I'm going to bed."

Zarc didn't even try to stop him as Yuya stalked up the flight of stairs in the corner to his makeshift bedroom that once served as an office.

Yuya’s brief flash innocence fell away then. He’d been such an idiot. He’d dropped his defences. Of course he couldn’t trust anyone, it was always some trick. Some illusion. If the two men he’d met that night really had been his friends at some point, they would have been the one to find him wandering in that alley. They would have been the ones searching for him. To give him a family that didn’t abandon him and leave him without his memories.

They would have been the ones to give him a purpose.

Chapter Text

The bar was almost empty at this time of day.

Yugo sighed, staring wistfully down at the glass in his hand and the woefully small amount of golden liquid that still remained in it.

He wasn’t normally one to drink. Especially on the job, but under the circumstances no one seemed to judge the hunched over police officer as he sculled his scotch. Setting the glass back down with a decisive thud. 

The bartender gave him a sideways glance that Yugo ignored. Silently waving a hand and watching as the glass refilled itself like magic. Yugo grunted in appreciation, staring down at his reflection in indignation.

There was a small congregation of men in the far corner, shouting bets and throwing cards down on the poker table with slurred words. They were very clearly drunk. Yugo almost barked in laughter; so was he.

The doorbell chimed and the bartender looked up as another customer sidled into the seat next to him.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having.” The man waved a free hand in Yugo’s direction. Yugo didn’t even have look up to know who it was.

Crow Hogan grinned, leaning forward on his elbow to look at Yugo. Yugo glowered, hunching his shoulders further, wanting to curl into a ball. Crow thanked the bartender, spinning round in his chair so that his back was pressed against the bar, arms draped across the polished wood.

Yugo ignored him.

“You’re drunk.” Crow grinned, Yugo took another sip, ignoring him. “Oh come on, I know you wanted a drinking buddy. Have to admit, didn’t think I’d ever see you in here.”

Yugo sighed, turning to Crow with a glare, “I’m not in the mood right now…”

Crow’s grin widened, “I can see that, you’re not a regular. It’s a wonder you can even hold your alcohol at all with how little you drink.”

Yugo stared down at the glass again, “What do you want?”

“I want to know what’s up with my friend. You’re not normally like this.”

Yugo gave a dry laugh, “You’re right… I’m not…”

“So? What’s up?”

Yugo hung his head, rubbing his eyes with the palm of a free hand, “We missed a perp last night.”

Crow frowned, “That’s never bothered you this much before. What’d he do?”

“Shot the city councilman through the eye then escaped, we had him a gunpoint too… Akaba’s chewing Yuri out for it now and Yuto is feeling this almost twice as much as I am, he’s not answering any of my calls.”

“Rough night. Still, there’s something else isn’t there? You didn’t come in to work today, you’re either worried about something or to chicken to face the commissioner.”

“Both.” Yugo replied, gripping the glass tighter, “Do you remember Yuya?”

Crow frowned, “Yuya? Who? Sakaki?”

Yugo’s grip tightened further, knuckles white. Crow cocked his head.

“You serious? Yugo, that was years ago.”

“But he’s back Crow... I saw him with my own eyes...”

The bar fell into an awkward silence.

“Wow. You really are drunk. What are you? High too?”

“Crow would you just shut up please? I’m not in the mood today. This isn’t a joke.”

“Could have fooled me, do you even hear yourself? The dead may walk in movies but this is real life. Yuya died Yugo. Seventeen years ago.”

“I fucking know that!” Yugo suddenly snapped, causing several looks from the poker players, Crow flinching in mild surprise. Yugo ignored all of them. He had a headache, he didn’t know if it was from a lack of sleep or if the alcohol was finally taking effect.

He sighed picking the glass up and tipping the contents into his mouth. Downing the liquid in a single mouthful before slamming the glass back on the bar.

“Look... Yugo...” Crow started, but Yugo wasn’t listening, fishing around in his back pocket he threw a few scrunched notes on the counter before sweeping his jacket into his arms and turning to leave. He took a few seconds to regret standing up so quickly as his head swam but soon composed himself enough to start towards the door.

Crow caught his arm, “I’m sorry okay? I just want you to realise what you’re saying... it’s crazy talk.”

“You’re right. It is. Guess I’ll die alone in a madhouse then...”

“Let me at least drive you home. You can barely stand.”

Yugo wobbled, the scotch beginning to take its toll, he gave a short burst of laughter. “Don’t bother. I’ll take a cab.”

Before Crow had a chance to protest, Yugo Atlas left the bar.

Reiji Akaba looked over his rim of his glasses at the man standing in his office, his arm in a sling.

“Is that so? I must admit I am disappointed Superintendent. I had expected more from you.”

“I apologise again sir.” Yuri grit his teeth in mild annoyance, he hated having to be polite to this man. “I have my best people tracking the Phantom to see where he is likely to strike again.”

“I see.” Akaba dragged the statement out, each word practically oozing sarcasm. “Your best people, would that be Inspector Kurosaki and Sergeant Atlas by any chance?”

Yuri blinked, “I am working with them personally, sir. Why? Should I have someone else take the case?”

Akaba waved a hand, “I have no doubt that you three are my top officers, I have seen your work, you are efficient and are all dedicated to the Force. This is a case that I would be glad to leave in your very capable hands. However,” he pressed his fingers together, staring down the bridge of his nose, “are you afraid your personal, shall we say, dilemmas... may detract from the mission at hand?”

Yuri blinked again, frowning slightly, “I’m afraid I have no idea what you are talking about, sir.”

Akaba sat back with an eyebrow raised, “You three, despite your ranks, are practically inseparable even within the workplace. I hope your… relationship, doesn’t catch you off guard.”

Yuri’s frown deepened, “Sir, I am well aware of my position. Yuto and Yugo are as well. We missed the Phantom once, it won’t happen again.”

“I would certainly hope so Marufuji. You are an excellent officer, I would hate to see you lose a position you have worked so hard for over something as trivial as a childhood friendship.”

“Sir, I am still not entirely sure what it is you are insinuating.” Yuri asked, as gently as he could, Akaba was a dangerous man to play games with. Especially when you were only holding half a deck while he had every hand dealt and ready to reveal.

“I am not implying anything Marufuji. I just want to make extra sure you know what you’re doing. Now, to help you along, identifying who it is we’re dealing with is first priority, I want a name. Use any resources you need, you have my authorisation to do so. Anyone objects, send them to me. I’m counting on you Marufuji. Don’t screw it up this time.”

Yuri left the office, barely containing his anger.

There was a bathroom not too far away and he ducked in, checking that the cubicles were free before punching the wall, hard, with his good hand.

Reiji Akaba, who the hell did he think he was? Sitting up there on his high horse, too bloody self-assured of his position to care about the people working for him. Yuri grimaced as his shoulder gave another twinge of pain, leaning against the wall with a sigh.

A name. That’s what he wants? He could have given him the goddamn name right then and there, so why didn’t he? Yuri pressed his hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples. He needed proof, he needed to know if Yuto and Yugo were right. He need solid evidence before he started to believe in ghosts.

He easily could have walked into that office and declared the name of the Phantom supplied to him by his best friends. He could have easily corrected for his mistake the other night, for his incompetence to protect a human life, but then, if Yuto was right. He would also have to divulge all his personal childhood secrets to a pompous rich brat who just happened to have a higher rank than him.

It would also mean compromising the possible safety of a friend, Yuya was a friend. If Yuto was right, if he was alive, then Yuri would be able to see him again. He would be assured that his friend was alive. That in itself was already a relief.

An officer from another precinct walked into the bathroom, giving a cursory glance to the superior office leaning against the wall. Yuri gave another sigh, nodding to the other man before exiting the bathroom. He needed to find that evidence, if Yuya was the Phantom, he, Yuto and Yugo could kill two birds with one stone in finding him.

He needed data, he needed somewhere to start, a lead. Yuya had disappeared at the age of ten, the police couldn’t find him back then nor a lead to his whereabouts. However, that wasn’t the problem, the problem was he would be even better at playing hide and seek now than when Yuri knew him.

There was only one place that they could start looking. And that was the start.

With no more need to be in headquarters, Yuri took the elevator down to the car park, trying to tune out the tasteless music doing a poor job of calming his senses.

His phone beeped and he frowned, glancing down at the text message with mild surprise but mostly amusement. It was Yugo, and judging by the caliber of his English skills, he’d had one too many drinks at the pub.

INEE B A LFIT

Yuri sighed, a small grin cracking across his face. For all the heroic speech Yuri just cooked up in his brain, Yuya might have to wait until some people grew up a little. Yuri stepped out of the elevator at the car park level walking towards his black Mercedes’ last known location.

Yuri felt uncharacteristically charitable today, he might as well pick up Yugo simply for the joy of having someone to tease to lift the mood. Maybe the pair of them could check in on Yuto in the process.

Yuri frowned as he pulled the keys from his back pocket. His dark haired friend had been unusually quiet the last few days. Yuri would never admit it out loud, but he was worried.

Sliding into the driver’s seat with a sigh, Yuri drove.

Yuto sat in the kitchen. Staring emptily at a tile on the floor.

It was cold in his apartment, and dark. He hadn’t bothered to turn the lights back on. He hadn’t bothered to do anything since leaving the hospital.

His phone had buzzed a few times, but Yuto just hadn’t wanted to get up and check who might be calling. It was too much effort, too much effort to stand. He thought he was hungry. But it was too hard to get up and make something of the stale bread and near-off milk he had lying around.

He sighed, dragging his eyes from the floor to the window, then to the couch and the TV in the corner. The couch looked comfy he supposed, more comfortable than the floor. A part of him really wanted to walk over to that couch, to sink into the soft fabric and the warmth of the cushions. To curl into a ball and just sleep. But another part, a considerably larger part didn’t want to move. It just wanted to sit here, on the cold, dark floor and mope.

Yuto knew that was a stupid idea, that it wasn’t going to get him any further than he already was. Sitting and feeling lost wasn’t productive, it wasn’t the way Yuto Kurosaki handled things.

But he didn’t know what else to do.

With a grunt, Yuto willed his legs to stand, practically dragging himself over to the couch to fall face first into the cushions. A small whine of appreciation leaving his throat before he rolled onto his back looking up at the ceiling.

He didn’t understand, he should be overjoyed. He should be happy. His best friend was still alive, that was enough right? To know that he was out there somewhere, not lying in a ditch, but walking...

No, not walking. Yuya was running.

He was running from the police, he was running from Yuto. Away from him. Yuto shut his eyes, why wasn’t he just letting Yuya go? Friendships change, circumstances happen, time marches forwards without so much as a glance backwards and nobody cares anymore.

So why was he so damn insistent on staying in the past?

There was a rattle somewhere in the house, like something falling against a pane of glass and Yuto ignored it. What was the point? A key in the lock. The tumblers falling audible from the silent kitchen. Yuto groaned again, flipping onto his side to stare at the seat backs of the couch as Yuri and a very drunk Yugo flicked on the lights.

“Wow.” Was all Yuri had to say as he walked in, seeing Yuto curled up against the couch, wearing nothing but boxer shorts and sporting the most ridiculously spiky bed head Yuri had ever seen. “You sir, look dead.”

Yuto grunted, not want to admit that he’d already accepted that possibility and no longer cared if it was coming or not.

Yugo looked pale and Yuto turned his head briefly to look at him. “Bathroom Atlas, now.” Yugo didn’t need to be told twice as he awkwardly shuffled down the hall. Yuto turned back to Yuri. “The hell do you want?”

“Is that anyway to speak to a superior officer Kurosaki?”

Yuto snorted, “This is my flat. You’re breaking and entering, go away.”

“First off, I haven’t actually broken anything and second? You gave me a key. Well... I found a key. Pickpocketed it? It’s the same thing.”

Yuto squinted up at him, “When the hell do you pickpocket my keys?”

“When you’re annoying.”

“And how often is that?”

“About twice a week.” As if to prove some point, Yuri fished around in his back pocket and carefully placed Yuto’s week-long-missing paperweight on the kitchen bench.

“Seriously? You pickpocketed my paperweight?”

“It was this, your passport, month-old Starbucks takeaway cup or your stapler. I was feeling merciful so I went for the mild option.”

Yuto re-buried his face in the cushions. “Why are you here Marufuji? It’s like, eleven o’clock at night.”

“Three in the afternoon actually.”

Yuto blinked then sat up, staring at Yuri’s stupid, smirking face with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Look.” Yuri strode over to the windows and flung the curtains aside with one hand, spilling afternoon sunlight directly into Yuto’s eyes.

Yuto yelped and dove under the cushions as bright spots blotted the back of his eyelids while Yuri actually giggled.

Composing himself Yuri’s voice instantly dropped to a sterner tone, “Well. While you were busy with this little, mope-fest I spoke to the commissioner.”

Yuto instantly sat up again looking at Yuri with excited eyes, “Are you fired?”

“What? No.”

“Yugo’s fired as well?” 

“We’re not fired Yuto. We’re also still tasked with the Phantom case.”

The atmosphere dropped instantly, Yuto falling back against the couch, “Damn.”

“We need to find him, name him and bring him in.”

“That is the general procedure. But I can’t.”

Yuri sighed, “Yuto…”

“Please don’t do this Yuri, Akaba’s asking us to detain Yuya. Yuya, Yuri.”

“You don’t get it do you?” Yuri huffed, causing Yuto to look up again, “If we take the case we’ll have enough resources to find him. The Yuya you met isn’t the Yuya we know. Something must have happened for him to have such a dramatic mood and career swing, we can find out what that was and reverse it without getting caught in shackles as well. Face it Yoot, there’s something going on here that’s bigger than we know.”

Yuto bit his lip, it sounded risky but it also sounded like a plan. If they could find him again, even regain his trust, Yuya could be the greatest asset to the force ever. Plus… Yuto stood, he needed to find him again, he needed his best friend back and with his family. Where he was supposed to be. Where he was always supposed to be.

Taking a deep breath and starting towards the hall, ignoring the displeasing sounds emanating from the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Yuri frowned, raising an eyebrow.

Yuto stopped looking over his shoulder with a grin, “I’m getting dressed. Come on Superintendent, we have a Phantom to catch.”

Chapter Text

The hallway was dark, cold and unfriendly. Sterile white, but impossibly dark. He couldn’t see anything… not even the hand in front of his face, trailing it along the wall, trying to find something. A door, a window. Something that will allow him to escape this infinite loop. There was a light at the end of this hallway. There was always the light. Just down the hallway but always out of reach. He would run towards it, run and hope that he could grasp it.

It moved away again.

His fingers found something that felt like a doorknob. He gripped it, twisted it. The hallway was getting lighter, he could make out five shadows in the gloom. Dark faces obscured by blur as his eyes deceived him. He reached out.

“Help me!” He yelled, the figures stopped. “Help me!” He tried again, the scream tearing itself from his throat. They turned, dark faces curled into dark smiles. Cruel laughter.

The hands grabbed him then, reaching out of the walls, pulling at his clothes, tearing at his face, his neck. He reached up, tried to struggle, to kick, to beat the hands away.

The figures laughed as the walls began to melt, the grey gloom replaced with inky black as the darkness pooled, running ice cold over his bare feet.

The darkness rose and now he was swimming in it, drifting through a sea of shadows, the hands gripped his ankles, pulled him under. The figures dissipated, the light snuffed. Darkness swallowed him, wrapped around his heart, gently squeezed, cooled it down till it was nothing but a dull echo of a throb. A cursed memory, a darkened reflection of what it had once been.

He let himself be pulled down. Down, down, down into the murky depths, the cold embrace. This must be what death felt like. This drowning, helpless, lost feeling. This knowledge that you were nothing more than a slab of meat. A burnished, tainted soul stained black against what had once been a white canvas.

He accepted it, let it in. Opened his eyes to invite it into his mind.

A glimmer.

He looked around, a single pinprick of light. A small, darting spark. He reached out, grabbed it. Held it close as the shadows pulled him down, always down into the deepest darkest depths of despair.

Yuya awoke with a start. Snapping up and clutching his head as he groaned. He was drenched in sweat.

The soft, greying light of morning filtered through the makeshift curtains of the warehouse and he sighed. That was the second nightmare he’d had in a week, they were getting more and more frequent.

They were always the same, the horrible feeling of being drowned, darkness swallowing him whole as the figures laughed. He never saw their faces, they were always dark, but he could have sworn that two of them had been lighter this time around. He sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, there was something else this time… something different from his previous nightmares.

Warmth? He shook his head, that made no sense whatsoever. The nightmare was cold, it was always so, so cold. Why would…?

“Oi! Wake up jackass!” Selena’s voice yelled through the door and Yuya sighed, falling back on the bed, the nightmare no more than a buzzing memory. Why did Selena always manage to ruin a good moment?

“I am awake!” He yelled back, draping an arm across his eyes, “Buzz off!”

A pause, then, “Zarc has breakfast! You stay in bed and you’re going to miss out! Hurry up!”

Yuya listened to her footsteps as they walked away. Listened to how confident and quick they were, not unlike his own. Zarc’s was downstairs, long and definitive, they rang with authority. Yuzu’s wasn’t far off, as light as the pattering of rain on a tin roof. To the trained ear, footsteps were as identifiable as fingerprints.

An image of Sawatari floated into his mind and Yuya allowed it to swim. That’s right. He’d killed someone last night. Sawatari’s obnoxious face, wide with terror as Yuya pulled the trigger, watching the eye cave inwards, Sawatari’s body as it hit the floor. It all replayed like a rerun of a TV show in slow motion at the back of his mind. Vivid and haunting.

Yuya stood, walking over to the bedside table and pulling out a small leather-bound diary. It looked old, worn with age, the pages yellowing. He picked up a pen, turning to the seventh page in, glancing silently over the pages of names before adding ‘Furio Sawatari’ to the bottom of the list followed by the date.

He ran a hand over his lists, admiring his spoils. He may not have any memories of his past, but if he ever forgot again, at least he’d know who he killed.

Silently and without a care, he buried Sawatari. Swept him under the rug and grinned as his image dissipated like smoke. There was no reason to poison his mind with people that weren’t worth the effort. It made you less efficient in this line of work.

Wearing only a pair of jeans and scratching the back of his neck, Yuya made his way down stairs greeting Yuzu with a kiss on the cheek before wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

“Morning…” He mumbled into her ear, tucking a stay strand of blonde hair away from her face.

She laughed softly, setting the butter knife down to turn and kiss him back, curling her fingers into his bedhead. “Morning to you too sleepyhead.”

Selena groaned loudly and rolled her eyes away from them. Zarc laughs at her reaction.

Yuya released Yuzu, but still kept an arm on her shoulder as he looked to Zarc, “You’re certainly in a good mood.”

Zarc shrugs, calmly taking his toast from Yuzu and leaning back to munch it. “We hit it big last night, that’s all I’m saying. This pay-job’s going to be major!”

Selena cracked a grin, “Oh? See now he’s interested.”

“Yeah, so apparently are you.” Yuya smirked, “You two weren’t even there!”

Selena pointed at him with the end of her spoon, taking it out of a bowl of cornflakes to glower. “We did just as much as you. If not more thanks.”

Zarc shrugged, “She has a point. I didn’t see you consolidating our client.”

Yuzu eyed him suspiciously, “I saw you consolidating Sawatari’s client. What I still don’t get is the other three. What’s up with them?”

Yuya had said nothing. Sawatari had been a target, but he was also a hired kill. The other three were part of a puzzle Yuya was trying to solve on his own. He closed his eyes, he should have known that this wasn’t going to keep quiet. He sighed, closing his eyes, “How did you know about them?”

Yuzu looked at him sceptically, “Are you serious? Darling, we literally share a bedroom, you think I wouldn’t notice when you walk in late? When you write in that silly little journal or wash blood off your hands? Three others. That’s how many times I saw you come home with that look on your face, so who were they?”

Zarc raised an eyebrow, “The other three?” He shot Yuya a look. “I knew about Houchun. Who were the other two? And more importantly, why the hell is this only being brought to my attention now?”

Yuya looked away, starting towards the bathroom, “I’m taking a shower.”

“Don’t walk away from this Yuya! Who else did you kill?”

“I just…” Yuya grit his teeth, fists clenching at his sides, “I remembered something.”

The room fell silent at Yuya’s statement. Yuya looked away, all three of them were staring at him, wide eyed.

It was Selena that spoke first, “You sure?”

Yuya took a deep breath, “Yeah, yeah I am. I remembered something, it was small, just a guy’s face… but I was so sure he had something to do with it that I had to make sure.”

Zarc inhaled sharply, “Yuya…” he spoke softly, slowly, spelling out the sentence, “What did you do?”

Yuya whistled, looking down at his fingernails, eyes sliding to half-mast, “What else? I killed him.”

Zarc threw his hands in the air, stalking up to Yuya and grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him into the wall. “The hell?! Why?”

Yuya glared at him, “Because I could!”

“That isn’t the reason why we kill Yuya! We kill to survive cause there’s nothing else we can do?! Okay? Someone or something took our memories a long time ago, all we have left is these skills. The least we can do is use them to pay for food!”

Yuya laughed, the sound hard and grating as it wrenched itself from his throat, “Yeah? What’s wrong with a little bit of publicity then?!”

“We don’t need the damn police on our asses!”

“No. You don’t need them! You don’t need them prying into what you do. You act all so high and mighty Zarc, but inside you know that we can’t do this forever!”

“You didn’t have the right to kill them!”

“And you don’t have the authority to tell me what I can and cannot do! Just because we’re a bunch of amnesiacs stuck with you under the same roof, doesn’t give you the right to command our every action!”

“I don’t think you realise the depth of the hole you’ve just fucking dug!”

“Yeah actually. I do. I know what I’m doing better than you do. Sawatari was target practice, I don’t see why we can’t fry some larger fish in the process.”

“For the love of Christ, Yuya! You need to calm down! I don’t know what you’re trying to pull but you’re not the only one on thin ice here!” 

“This is exactly what I mean! You don’t care do you?!” Zarc blinked letting go and stepping back.

“I care, Yuya. I care a lot more than you do clearly.”

Yuya laughed, “No you don’t! You don’t care shit about me! You don’t care what we went through! You don’t care about what we need to do! You talk about surviving but really think about that for a bit Zarc, I think you’ll find that you only care about saving your own damn skin! I want to know who I am, I want to know if I was loved! If I had a family! If they have been killed or worse! I want to know me. I want to find out who did this to us! I want to find them! I…”

Yuya laughed harder, malicious glee coursing through his veins, “I want to find them, I want them to tell me who I am. And then…”

He looked up, staring point-blank into Zarc’s face. “Then, I want to kill them! I want to beat them to a pulp, shove them against a wall and drive a bullet through their skull!” He threw his head back, grinning broadly, “I want to watch as the light leaves their eyes as they realise that they were the ones that brought this upon themselves! I want to watch as they see that their whole life was one big fucking joke and whatever they turned us into, what they’ve done. I want to be the one to show them that they should have seen this coming. That this was waiting, I want to see them realise that they are all damned to hell, I want them to suffer. I want my memories, I want my past and I want all of this?" He gestured at his surroundings, "This life? I want to watch it all die along with them!”

Zarc stared at him wide eyed, “You’re crazy… Yuya… you're a…”

“I’m a what Zarc? Rational? A killer? Wake the hell up! We all are!”

Zarc shook his head, “No… you’re something else… You’re a psychopath!”

Yuzu and Selena were staring at him with equal horror. Yuya couldn’t help it, he laughed. The looks on their faces! They were all so oblivious! So lost and vacant. These killers, trained and merciless assassins were looking at him with fear in their eyes. He liked that.

Zarc had called him a psychopath. Yuya grinned. How fitting. “I’ll kill them all Zarc. I’ll find them, I’ll kill them, then you will finally see. You’ll all finally see what I can do. Then we can be free of this hell. Then we'll have the right to live.”

Chapter Text

“Welcome back boys!” Yuri announced, flinging the doors open with a dramatic flourish and a cloud of dust.

Pale afternoon sunlight illuminated a corner of the large desk that lay inside, covered with maps, books, old photographs and filed documents.

Yuto walked in first, trailing his hands along the thick layer of dust that had settled on everything, leaving deep furrows in the grey snow.

Yugo walked in next, picking up a discarded folder with a frown, “I don’t even remember how far we got…”

“We got far enough to give up at least.” Yuri sighed pulling out and dusting off a chair before sitting down, waving a free hand in the direction of the boards in the corner.

Yuto walked over to them, picking up the nearest one and setting it on the easel in the middle of the room. It was littered with photographs and red thread. In the centre was an old, school photo of Yuya connected to maps and photographs of his family, a much younger version of Yusho and Yoko smiled up at him and Yuto distracted himself with the toe of his boots.

They lost Yuya once, Yuto would be damned if they made it a second time. For Yusho and Yoko’s sake though, they had agreed to keep the matter quiet until they found him. The Sakakis had suffered more than enough. There was little point and empathy in telling them that their son was alive, but a wanted criminal.

“So…” Yugo started, blowing dust off an old copy of the ‘Yellow Pages’ lying abandoned in a corner. “Where are we going to start?”

“Depends on where we finished…” Yuri mumbled, “Although I don’t think working in the original direction will be able to help us a whole lot…”

Yuto frowned, “What do you mean?”

Yuri sighed, pushing himself up out of his chair, with his uninjured hand he tapped the photo of Yuya in the middle of the board Yuto had just set up. “It has been two years since we last looked at this case, we gathered about as much as we could when we started but what we ended up with was dead end.”

“So? We can use that information.”

Yuri shook his head, “No, we need to take a step back and start again. From the beginning.”

Yugo groaned loudly, “You’ve got to be kidding me, that’s ridiculous!”

Yuto crossed his arms looking at the board with new eyes, “No… Yuri is right. We need to start again.”

“Why?” Yugo whined, “This is literally a gold mine of information!”

“Information of Yuya Sakaki when he was in Year 10. Information on Yuya Sakaki under the assumption that he was merely missing, that he was dead. This entire room was trying to find out where he went at the age of fifteen and if he was alive. Now that we know he is alive, or supposedly alive at the age of thirty-two,” Yuri glanced at Yuto out of the corner of his eye, “This information is useless for developing the case.”

Yuto nodded, “We’re not investigating a missing boy now Fletch. We’re working on new information and the knowledge that the victim…” Yuto waved a hand at the board, “Has become the predator.”

Yuto walked over to the table, picking up Yuya’s file and flipping to a new page, “Yuya is a killer now, we have reason to believe that the last four murders were all his. Houchun, Kyuando, Ishijima and Sawatari… working with the information about when Yuya went missing is useless, it’s seventeen years old. This, however? We have a new development in the case and the first solid lead of evidence we’ve had in years. This time around we’re not working blindly in the dark. We have options, we have resources, we have data and we have the present knowledge we need to crack this.”

Yuri nodded, “With that we’re back to our original question… Where do we begin?”

Yuto sighed, “There’s no point in turning over a crime scene that has already been catalogued and cleaned up. We have statements here from the people who last saw Yuya seventeen years ago. We have scraps on Yuya himself, but…”

Yuto grinned, pulling a file up on his laptop and leaning down to scan the information on the document. “We have more information on the present victims. If we work through them we should begin to see some inconsistencies or outlying information that could connect back to Yuya. The first and most obvious connection between the four is politics. Ishijima held a party seat in the House of Representatives, he wasn’t voted for often, but he was a good enough to earn himself respect in most circles. He was a good leader and confident speaker with strong views. On the surface he had the perfect life of a politician, he was a good husband according to Naruko Ishijima and led a peaceful life. His assassination and the evidence in his safe however, seems to indicate that there was more to his story.”

Yuri nodded, picking up where Yuto left off, “Ishijima’s PA, Kyuando, was likely the next victim in this timeline. The two shared a connection and Kyuando would have had the trust of both Ishijima and his party while he was alive. It’s a possibility that foul play was involved at some point in Ishijima’s career.”

“So, we’re really leaving all options are available?” Yugo asked, “We’re keeping this pretty open…”

“Open is a good way to have, and keep it.” Yuto noted, “As you said before, we can close off doors and options as we gain more information and a clearer premise. Yuya or the Phantom, mentioned clients at the scene of Sawatari’s murder, this would imply that he’s either working with someone or for them. He appears freelance. But at the same time, and most disturbingly, not all of his hits seem planned.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow, “Why not planned do you think?”

Yuto shrugged, “Ishijima and Kyuando almost seem like an impromptu act. I wouldn’t know how to explain it exactly, but we knew Yuya. We knew how determined he was, even if he has no memories of who he is, the foundation of his personality would still be present even today. If anything, having no apparent memories just makes him more motivated to do something extreme.”

Yugo snorted, “Like murder wasn’t extreme enough. Having no memories also makes him dangerous, he’s killed four people in two days. He wouldn’t  necessarily do that out of mere fun. Even if he’s a killer now, he would have a reason behind it. He never did anything without a reason.”

“We’re working on the basis that Yuya is the same Yuya we knew.” Yuri interjected, “I think we need to approach this from the idea that he isn’t.”

Yuto looked at him, “You’re saying we should treat our best friend as a serial killer?”

“Isn’t that our job? From now on, we should treat Yuya as nothing more than another killer. So then, if we want to find out his motive for killing, we need to first find out his motivation.”

“Aren’t they one in the same thing?”

“Not necessarily... Yuto, you mentioned that Yuya could be working with someone, I believe this to be true. At least three people were involved in the arrangement and execution of Sawatari’s murder. One was Yuya himself, one the person on the other end of his earpiece, and…” Yuri gestured at his shoulder, “The third bastard shot me as a distraction. You had Yuya cornered, he needed you out of the room to make his escape, or at least not watching him to exit through the window or skylight. His motivation could be as simple as he is protecting his associates.”

“Three possible killers on the same night… that would better explain the theory that Kyuando and Ishijima were on a whim. Sawatari’s death went smoothly, it ran like clockwork almost elegantly flawless if it wasn’t for us.” Yuto frowned scratching the back of his neck, “But protection doesn’t seem to be the motivation for those murders. Sawatari and Houchun was one operation, Kyuando and Ishijima were another. My best guess is that Ishijima had something that Yuya alone wanted, he broke off from the group, killed Ishijima, found a connection in Kyuando and left him as another warning like Houchun was for Sawatari.”

Yugo nodded, “That makes sense, but if protection or a pay-day was the motivation for Houchun and Sawatari, Yuya is after something else from Ishijima and Kyuando. Somehow, I don’t think these murders are quite as connected as we all thought they were. Sawatari was a hired hit. Someone, somewhere paid Yuya and his little group of friends to end the city councilman’s life. Ishijima was on a whim, Yuya is searching for something, the moment we find out what that is the closer we’ll be to planning out our next steps.”

“All that aside, I think our first action should be finding out who Yuya was working for. Why Sawatari was murdered. Then we’ll work backwards to Ishijima. Take this one murder at a time and hopefully something will come up that connects to dots.” Yuri sighed, “What do we have on him?”

Yuto peered at the laptop perched on a stack of old case files, “Furio Sawatari, age forty-seven. He held a party seat in the government but was working towards being elected up as a representative for his electorate. He was a favorited politician by most working-class people as he worked towards better wages and in many cases, workplaces. However, he was also involved in some shady backgrounds. Sawatari was reportedly loud and abusive of the power he thought being in the government gave him. He used this to lower prices on his purchases or take matters to court on at least two occasions over restaurant food and once on the price of petrol.”

“Charming…” Yuri mumbled, he’d known this guy had been a problem from the moment he saw him. There was something furtive about the guy that practically screamed that he was shady. For a man in the spotlight, Sawatari seemed to have quite a bit of stuff going on in the dark.

“Sawatari’s brother was also involved in politics, but six years ago he disappeared under mysterious circumstances. The case was reported, but never went further than a simple trial. Several people deliberated the possibility that Sawatari killed his brother in a fight. Other speculate kidnapping or involvement of the mafia. Sawatari was the prime suspect but according to rumour, he supposedly paid off the jury to declare him innocent. It’s an inactive case but is still accepting information. Needless to say, Sawatari wanted his brother out of congress to give him a better shot at the top.”

“Sawatari had a wife and a son, one Mrs Sato Sawatari, age forty, and his son, Shingo, age nineteen. Shingo is reportedly schizophrenic with temper issues, same as his father. Although for the most part he lives just about as normally as any other kid his age.”

“There.” Yuri snapped his fingers, “That’s where we start.”

Yugo looked at him, “What with Shingo?”

Yuri nodded, “Sawatari was a man with enemies, he likely made the majority of them in the courtroom but who's to say that foul play wasn't also going down behind the closed walls of the Sawatari household? Shingo is nineteen and schizophrenic. That spells way too many opportunities for less approved behaviour, such as drugs or alcohol. His father just died. We failed to protect him. In any case we still owe the Sawatari’s a visit for their testimonies and to provide light on that topic. I’m not suggesting that Shingo is involved in his murder. I’m merely saying that there is a possibility, no matter how slim, that in the case of Sawatari’s brother, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“You believe he did it?” Yugo looked at him, “Killed his own brother I mean? Then his son hired Yuya to kill him for it?”

“I believe that Furio Sawatari was a man of many secrets. When we first approached him at town hall he seemed more anxious about our presence rather than the knowledge that he was being targeted. He was hasty, he didn’t accept our protection. Now that could have been because he didn’t have a choice to accept it, or that he did; and he knew that if he took that olive branch, he would sink more quickly into his little world of lies. Sawatari was wealthy, that kind of money is poisonous to kids of Shingo's age. He could be trying to instigate or write himself into his father's will...”

“We’re taking a heck of a big leap with all of this…” Yuto mumbled.

“Yes, but Yuya himself told us that Sawatari was aiming for something if he was elected. Sawatari had a goal; and judging by his background. I think that goal had less than savoury operations attached to it.”

“So, our first step is Shingo?”

Yuri nodded, “Our first step is Shingo Sawatari.”

Chapter Text

Shingo Sawatari couldn’t care less about the girl standing in front of him.

She was an attention seeker, just like the rest of them here at this boring, dull excuse for a party.

Fresh out of high school and Shingo couldn’t be freer. He was at the height of his life, the peak, the epicentre of fun. He could party whenever the hell he felt like it and university was still an option he had no plan on following through with.

He was rich. He was popular, he had lame girls swooning at his feet practically begging him for a piece of all the action. The world was ripe, and it was his for the picking.

A few of his more liberal friends had already made a move on their futures and it was honestly sad. Why they didn’t just enjoy being left alone before life started fucking with them again, tailoring off the back of what was already a sample taste of life in hell called school would always remain a complete mystery to him. 

Shingo had been suffocating in that prison. The rules, the regulations, the complete lack of empathy from his teachers. Why didn’t they just leave him alone and let him get on with it? He was rich and famous; the knowledge of algebra was going to gain him nothing that his charms and status hadn’t already. It was all too redundant.

The girl moved closer to him and he sighed, but then why was this night so damn dull? It was lacking something, he knew that at least, a certain amount of spice, a rush…

The DJ shifted gears, moving the music from alternative pop to a sorry excuse for a rap and Shingo left the dancefloor. He refused to dance to something that was never supposed to be created..

The bar was oddly empty with only the bartender and a few other people milling around. Shingo slid into an open stool with a grin, “Bottle of Peroni for me.”

The bartender didn’t even bat an eye, reaching behind him and producing the thick glass bottle. Shingo took it with a grin, downing the entire beverage within three breaths. Dancing and booze, two things that really worked up a sweat.

Shingo sighed, leaning back against the bar. Why was he here again? What did he, Shingo Sawatari, have to gain from a petty party with petty food and petty people?

Free drinks he supposed… still, was that enough to truly satiate his mind? He had no reason to be here, and if he took another drink, he’d be stranded along with the girl who was currently vomiting all over her boyfriend’s shoes in spectacular fashion. A bunch of losers the lot of them.

Shingo cut his losses. Exiting slowly out the back of the house. Everyone, it seemed, were all too drunk to care. He was glad to see he was going to be missed.

Making it to his car and hopping in the driver’s side Shingo breathed a sigh of relief at the silence that followed. He grinned, a brilliant idea coming to mind as he dialled triple-zero.

Pulling out his greatest performance to date and cashing in all the acting awards he received in high school, Shingo played the role of a pathetic and drunk loser named ‘Yamabe’. The guy who, last time Shingo had seen him, had passed out spread-eagle in the bathroom.

The cops would be at the party within the hour to catch the supposed illegal drug trafficking.

Meanwhile, Shingo himself would merrily be at home with his mother, being an obedient and loving son, swearing on his life that nothing was out of the ordinary and he had zero idea about the goings on of that night.

Perfect.

His phone beeped, and Shingo glanced down at it with a frown, that was unusual. Shingo was very selective about who he ‘hung out’ with, and he specifically told those who did that he didn’t appreciate any form of human contact after seven at night. Shingo glanced at the clock, it was bordering on nine-thirty.

Cautiously he reached for it, only having time to see the text from an unknown number before the phone started ringing. The car filled with the now strangely haunting marimba tune selected for his device.

Gulping Shingo looked down at the phone and the large ‘Blocked Number’ flashing at the top of the screen. Shingo knew who it was the moment he answered the call and put it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It is done.” The warbled, indistinctive voice gurgled back. “I hope you can hold up our end of the bargain.”

Despite his situation, Shingo grinned, he knew this hadn’t been a mistake, choosing them. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your pay.”

“Good.”

“Ten-thousand, right? You’ll get a cheque within the week, I want to make absolutely sure that you did your job right first.”

“Oh we did. You can expect some inquiries, but I doubt the police have picked up on you. They’ll be after some bigger fish if I’m being honest.”

Shingo snorted, “You?”

“Sure. I want to speak with them after all.”

“Seriously? The shady guy off a shady site who I hired to do a shady job? Please.”

“Suspicion can come from the strangest places with the most elaborate of evidence. You want to keep your freedom Shingo? I suggest you stick your head in the sand and shut up for a bit.”

“Don’t you dare insult your client.”

“I will. You know why? Because you are just a kid. You can try all you want to act like the high and mighty ruler you think you are. But inside? Under all that? You’re just a coward too frightened to do what needs to be done yourself.”

Shingo grit his teeth in annoyance, “I’ve had enough of this! You did your job, you’ll get your pay but don’t ever come near me ever again!”

Shingo ended the call. How dare they! He was the one that outsourced them, he was the one that hired them! And at the end of it all, they had the audacity to call him a coward. Shingo was sick and tired of always being treated like a child. He didn’t need his own employees doing the same. 

Fuming in annoyance Shingo jabbed the key into the ignition and drove.

What Shingo hadn’t anticipated, was the police to be at his house when he pulled into the drive.

Shingo frowned at the two squad cars parked silently behind his Papa’s lovingly polished Rolls Royce Dawn.

They couldn’t have figured it out so quickly could they? No. That was impossible! Even he didn’t know if the job had been done yet.

A stab of guilt lodged itself in Shingo’ throat and he gulped. No. No there was no need to panic. Not yet anyway.

Shingo took a deep breath. It was fine. He was in the clear. He wasn’t the one with blood on his hands... no! It wasn’t him who did it! They had promised to keep his name secret right? So what was he so anxious about? He’ll just walk in there, say hello, tell them whatever they want to hear and go to bed. It was probably something petty anyway… something about the stupid party… he could do this!

Shingo parked and turned off the engine, taking another deep breath before relaxing into the seat. It would be fine. He’ll just calmly walk in like any other typical teenager might after coming home late at night.

Shingo went to open the door, but a soft chuckling stopped him. A chill ran down Shingo’ spine. It was soft. But it was clear and much, much closer than any phone call.

An arm wrapped itself around Shingo’ neck a hand pressed firmly against his nose and mouth. Stifling his scream of surprise.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Mr. Sawatari. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure before.”

Shingo could feel his lunges begin to tighten, he couldn’t breathe.

“Ah, my apologies.”

The man let him go and Shingo keeled over sucking in great lungfuls of air.

Shingo whipped round to glare coughing into his hand, “Who the hell do you think you are! I’ll have you know that I am the son of—”

“Furio Sawatari, the politician.” The man replied, taking off his glasses to calmly polish them in the backseat of Shingo’ car. “I know full well who you are. Do you know what has happened to your father Shingo?”

Shingo bit his lip, “No.” He hissed, “What are you talking about?”

The man sighed heavily, straightening his crooked tie. “Shingo Sawatari. I am afraid to tell you that your father has been murdered.”

A small part of Shingo’ heart whimpered at the man’s comment. But it was the larger part that caused him to grin. “Oh?”

“You don’t seem overly shocked.”

“Should I be?”

The man opened the door. Sending waves of cool night air through the cabin.

“You should try to at least act sad for your mother’s sake. As well as your own if you are going to get out of the hole you have dug for yourself.”

Shingo grit his teeth, “Who are you?”

The man grinned, “I need your help Shingo.”

“Why me?”

“Because you are the first person in a long time to have come into contact with my… research.”

“I don’t know what—”

“Hush now. I’ll be in contact soon. Just make sure to keep your mouth shut until then.”

Yuto looked up as the door to the house opened and a tall, lanky boy stepped through. Shingo Sawatari he guessed.

Shingo looked up at them with a frown, opening his mouth to speak but was interrupted by his mother as she rushed over to him. “Oh thank God, Shingo… you’re safe!”

“What’s wrong Mama? Why are the police here?”

“They…” She choked mid-sentence, pressing the sodden tissue to her mouth as she began crying again.

“Hush… shhh… it’s okay…” Shingo tried comforting her, pulling her into a protective hug. “What’s all this about?” Shingo asked, addressing Yuto, “We haven’t done anything wrong!”

Yuto sighed, scratching the back of his neck and looking to Yuri. “I really didn’t want to have to do this twice in one night…”

Yuri rolled his eyes at Yuto before looking to the Sawataris, “Allow me to introduce myself and my colleagues again; My name is Superintendent Yuri Marufuji, and these are my associates, Chief Inspector Yuto Kurosaki and Sergeant Yugo Atlas. Mr. Sawatari. I am sorry to report that your father, Furio Sawatari, was found murdered last night after a press conference at town hall.”

Yuto watched the boy out of the corner of his eye in interest, Shingo didn’t seem as shocked as he probably should be after receiving news like that. The boy was still standing in the hallway, clutching his sobbing mother, but there was something else… underneath…

The boy’s eyes widened as he gaped at Yuri. “You… you can’t be serious!” He yelled, Yugo looked away.

But Yuto didn’t.

Neither did Yuri.

There was something utterly wrong with the way Shingo Sawatari was acting.

Yuto knew first-hand the expression and the effect such a statement had on people. He knew from previous cases that the first thing a person does when told information on a dead relative is go into shock. They stand motionless, their brain ticking over memories with the deceased, the time they spent with them, trying to grasp the features of their face, the information not registering until something clicks. There was no click for Shingo Sawatari.

There was nothing behind his feigned surprise. Not even a shard of regret or of grief.

Yuto watched the boy as he held his mother, burying his face in her shoulder. But Yuto knew too well the difference between a genuine case of grief, and an act.

“Mr. Sawatari.” Yuri started, causing the boy to look at him, not a single tear wetting his dry cheeks. “Would you be comfortable coming with us for questioning? I understand if this is a bad time.”

Unlike most people, Yuto could read Yuri. He’d known him long enough to give him that curtesy. Yuri too, was acting. Not for the sake of Yuto or Yugo of course, not even for the sake of the boy’s mother. Yuri was acting sympathetic, professional. He’d caught on to Shingo’ game as quickly as Yuto had.

They had been right. Shingo Sawatari was a perfect starting point to finding out where Yuya had gone.

Shingo sniffed, gripping his mother and nodding. “No… no that’s okay… I’ll… I’ll come…”

“Excellent, then if you would follow me please.”

Shingo nodded again, following Yugo through the front door.

Yuri stopped at Sato Sawatari, laying a hand on her shoulder as Yuto took her arm, manoeuvring the sobbing woman to a chair. “Mrs. Sawatari,” Yuri said, sounding a little more genuine this time, “my deepest sympathy and condolences. As soon as we are aware of any development in this case, you will be our first point of call.” 

Then he was gone.

Yuto turned to leave but Sato Sawatari caught his arm. He looked down in surprise at the woman staring at her hand clasped around his wrist in confusion. Yuto frowned, kneeling down till he was at eye level with her.

“Mrs. Sawatari?” He asked. She looked up at him sharply, causing him to flinch in mild surprise.

“No.” She whispered, “No… you…” Yuto frowned laying a hand tentatively on hers, she looked at him, her eyes wide in shock and fright. “I… he… Furio…”

Yuto kept his mouth shut. “I knew this was going to happen…” She mumbled, looking through him now, to some invisible force, “Furio…” Her eyes hardened, “He deserved everything he had coming to him. Promise me…”

She looked at him and Yuto frowned, her eyes were glassy, unseeing as if she was unaware of who she was talking to or she was convinced he was someone else.

“Promise me that bastard’s going to rot in hell for eternity.”

Yuto blinked in shock at the pure fury behind her eyes. He let go, stood up a little too quickly, the blood rushing from his head, causing him to stagger. Sato Sawatari dropped her head into her hands and began to bawl. Pained, anguish cries wrenching themselves from her throat and filling Yuto’s head with the sounds of grief.

“I…” Yuto looked out to where Yuri and Yugo were standing, Shingo already in the back of the squad car. He couldn’t promise that. He had no right to promise that. This woman… had… he…

He backed away and hurried out of the house, leaving the sobbing, broken widow to her sorrows.

Chapter Text

Yuto crossed his arms, leaning back on his heels and gazing through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room. 

This sort of technique had sadly delved into the world of cliché what with all the cop shows and crime fiction around. Still, Yuto supposed. It was still very effective. 

“Now, Shingo,” Yugo said, opening the case file and peering at the contents with bored eyes. He knew everything that was in this file, he’d read it enough times to recite it in his sleep. “Let’s discuss your father.” 

Shingo nodded. 

“Furio Frank Sawatari Jr. Born in 1971, only child. Started politics after graduating from college. Was in the business approximately twenty years, for all intensive purposes he was well respected and liked by the polls, but still…” Yugo closed the file and leant forward to look Shingo directly in the eyes. “That doesn’t seem to be the whole story, am I right Shingo?” 

Shingo blinked but said nothing. 

Yugo shrugged, “Suit yourself, but unfortunately for you, we’ve called your bluff.” Yugo’s eyes hardened, “Drop the sympathy act with me, you didn’t have even a shred of care for your father. That’s why you had him murdered.” 

Shingo flinched at Yugo’s words, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead but Yugo’s trick had already told him everything he needed to know. 

“I’m kidding.” Yugo grinned, chuckling as he sat back, chewing the end of a pencil as he kicked his feet up onto the table, rocking back on the chair’s hind legs. Yuto watched Shingo visibly relax and narrowed his eyes. They were right, this kid was a terrible liar. “Now. Your father was shot through the left eye with a 0.45mm bullet fired from a handgun. The guy who shot him, while we were unable to apprehend him, we have a good suspicion that he was working on orders rather than involuntarily. Those types of bullets fired from the assumed Mk23 semi-automatic are usually only reserved for Black Ops in America. Our Phantom was hired to do the job.” Yugo grinned up at the ceiling, “That being said we do have a prime suspect as to who it was who signed the check.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Shingo yelled standing bolt upright and slamming his hands down on the table making Yugo’s coffee cup topple over. Yugo didn’t even bat an eye. “You have no right to keep me here!” 

Yugo looked at the boy’s wide eyes and gave a heavy sigh, scratching the back of his neck before his blue eyes snapped back to Shingo full of anger. “Yuri and Yuto had a hunch, I was hoping they had been wrong. But from your utter lack of cooperation we have reason to believe that my earlier joke may have indeed been the truth.”

Shingo turned as white as a sheet, trying desperately to back pedal. “No. I…” 

Yugo craned his neck behind to look at the mirror behind him, right into Yuto’s eyes. Yuto knew the signal. Good Cop was done. It was time for Bad Cop to play. 

The door opened, and Shingo gulped as Yuri walked into the room. “Shingo, Shingo, Shingo.” He tutted, a malicious spark of glee glinting in his eyes as he waked round to stand behind Yugo. Shrugging off his tan overcoat he set his holstered gun on the table with a soft thump. “Now, just how on earth did you possibly think you could get away with lying to me?” 

“I… I…” Shingo stuttered, his mouth failing him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

Yuri sighed and nodded to Yugo as he stood up and left the interrogation room. While he and Yuto might be good at getting a rise out of a suspect. It was Yuri that was the master of intimidation. 

“Let’s see now, so you made contact with the Phantom online I assume? Most hitmen are hired through use of the Dark Web after all, smart boy like you, Generation Z, grew up with technology at your fingertips, couldn’t have been all too difficult to find someone just within your father’s life insurance claim. A hefty sum mind you, and a nice house you have! Bet you thought the perfect little prince would manage to score himself big with knocking off his own father. How much was the job Shingo? How much money was your father’s life worth to you?” 

“I don’t know—” 

“Uh uh uh.” Yuri tutted, wagging a finger in front of the boy’s face, “You no longer hold the right to play the innocent victim Shingo Sawatari. You were given your opportunity back at your house, when we told you your father had been murdered, you were not even sorry were you? Not a hint of mourning in those eyes of yours. So tell me Shingo.” Yuri slid into the chair opposite. “How exactly did you make contact with the Phantom. Do you know his name? Contacts? Current location? Give me one good reason not to throw you in a holding cell on accounts for homicide.” 

“I…” Shingo gulped, frantically darting his eyes around the room. Shit. This wasn’t good. There was only one exit behind him. He wasn’t handcuffed to the table like he thought he’d be. But then again, until he confessed, they had nothing to hold against him except a whim. “Prove it!” he blurted, “I want a lawyer, you can’t prove anything without evidence!” 

Yuri chuckled, and Shingo stiffened, that laugh was much, much worse, “Ah Shingo, you still think we’re playing by the rules. No, no, no, we’re just going to let them slide for a moment.” Yuri reached under the table to his belt, finding his badge and placing it in Shingo’ view. “I’m playing the Bad Cop right now and you are my suspect. What was your father so involved in, what did he do to you in order to give you the right to kill him?” 

Shingo gulped, but opened his mouth. “I only spoke to one guy. Zarc, I think his name was. I couldn’t really tell, they always contacted me through the phone using some kind of voice-distortion thing.” 

Yuri nodded, “A name. Good start. Now that we’re both in understanding that you did indeed set up the job, how did you know your father was killed?” 

“They called me, earlier tonight actually, I said I’d send them the check.” 

“And what price are you paying?” 

“Ten-thousand.” 

Yuri whistled, “A hefty sum for a guy your age Shingo. How on earth are you going to pay that?” 

“Dad’s account. Or his life insurance. Whatever I can cash in easier.” 

“Dad must have a very large account for you to be issuing that kind of check so willingly.” 

“I did what I had to.” 

“And where are you sending this check Shingo? An address please.”

“I… don’t know.” 

Yuri raised an eyebrow, “You don’t know? You hired a trained assassin to shoot your father through the head in the back of a bathroom stall and you don’t know how you are going to pay them?”

“I mean they are going to contact me with a location later.” 

“Are they now?” Yuri grinned, “Now we’re getting somewhere Shingo. Final question, at least for now, why did you have your father murdered I wonder. You still haven’t told me.” 

Shingo looked up at the fluorescent light above them, at the grey, placid ceiling of the room. He supposed now was as good a time as any to let the cops in on daddy’s dirty little secrets. 

Yuto threw the case file back on the desk with a sigh. Nothing was adding up. Yuya, Phantom, Shingo, Sawatari. All of them. There was a connection, there had to be. Damnit, Yuya had chosen his new moniker well. The Phantom was a hard one to track. 

He stood and walked over to the large murder-board situation at the end of the room. Shingo was locked up safe and sound in the holding cell downstairs, still yelling for a lawyer. Although if Yuto knew the officer he left on guard as well as he thought, Shingo will have a broken nose by the end of the night. 

Yuto rubbed his eyes, feeling his pupils ache with stress as he did so. He really needed some sleep. This investigation was probably one of if not the most taxing one he’d ever spent time on in his career. Yuri and Yugo had already turned in for the night, and Yuto couldn’t blame them, he was pretty much the only person left on staff at this hour and he really needed to get some sleep. 

There was a soft knock at the door and Yuto turned, relaxing slightly as he recognised Crow standing in the doorway. “Need anything sir?” 

Yuto grunted, “A holiday if you happen to have one of those in the break room?” 

Crow laughed and pulled a flask out of his jacket, “Nah, but will this do?” 

Yuto raised an eyebrow at the small silver container, “A little old-fashioned don’t you think? You’ve been watching way too many James Bond films.” 

Crow laughed again, “Ah, maybe, but there’s no Martini in here. Bourbon. Good and strong.” He took a swig with a grin the offered the canister to Yuto. “Go on Detective. You could use a break.” 

Yuto shrugged and took the flask, taking a long swig before passing it back to Crow. The bourbon scorched the back of his throat but he needed the kick. Crow looked around the room with a small frown, “I thought you cleaned this all out years ago, stopped looking into Yuya Sakaki.” 

Yuto grunted, leaning back against the desk with a sigh, “Yeah well, we did but this case is proving to be a little trickier than we first thought.” 

“You and Yugo aren’t seriously looking into this all again are you?” 

Yuto looked at him, “While we haven’t officially re-opened the Sakaki case, officer, what we do in this room is strictly for those working on the Phantom case.” 

Crow put his hands up defensively, “I’m sorry, I was just asking, Yugo and I were in the bar a few nights ago and he mentioned seeing Yuya at town hall after Sawatari’s shooting. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.” 

Yuto sighed, “No, you’re right. I’m sorry, it’s just… This case is stressful... at least half the mystery is solved…” 

Crow nodded, “Right, the kid downstairs. Shingo? Why’d he hire a mercenary on his father anyway?” 

Yuto grunted, no harm in telling Crow right? “Sad story actually. The kid’s always been a loner, had the money but never the proper feeling of friendship or love. The mum’s an addict, it turns out, but not by choice. Furio Sawatari was using his influence to buy and sell drugs on the black market to give him a little bit more dough. Man like that, obsessed with power, all he needed was a little bit extra cash to push him over the line in politics. Up until he started dealing, Furio’s politics business was actually a failing dream. He bribed the majority of his votes from hopeless junkies that were desperately living on the streets looking for their next hit. Problem is that as long as you are a certain age, you can still vote if you scrub up alright at the polling station. Eventually Furio ran out of bribes and turned to alcohol and domestic violence.”

“Shingo spent his whole life watching his father blindly hit his mother in drunken rages only to find her crying the next day. Furio used his wife as an outlet, and when he came into dealing he saw her as a guinea pig. The woman was a wreak when I found her, probably sober for the first time in years after Furio wasn’t there to force the liquor down her throat. He used the drugs he bought and slipped them into her food to test their effectiveness. Wretched stuff, ice, cocaine, heroin. It’s a mystery as to why she isn’t dead herself. Fact was that Shingo wasn’t actually doing it for his sake as it was so much for his mother. He had been left out of the equation most of his life, cast aside as his father abused his mother and pretty much made their lives a living hell as he climbed his way to the top.”

“Turns out when he actually made it there he had planned to give his ‘clients’ a little bit more freedom than the average person would like, then to pin the blame on us, the police. That’s what Yu—The Phantom had meant when he was talking about his victim’s intentions when he made mayor. Problem is that even with that position, Sawatari was never going to have the power he wanted in a democratic society. Shingo’ actions are in some ways justice, but the fact that he never reported it to us, or anyone for that matter, then went and hired an assassin to knock of his own father. Well. You went to law school you know that doesn’t really cut it in the justice department.” 

“Jesus.” Crow whistled, “Quite the story you have there.” 

Yuto nodded, “It is. In some ways we should be grateful that a man like Sawatari is out of office, permanently. Who knows what could happen if a man like that made his way up to president.” 

Crow shrugged, “To be honest I don’t think I’d want to know.” 

Yuto sighed and turned back to the board in the corner staring at the old high school photo of Yuya in the centre. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to know what had happened to Yuya either. 

He stared at the board for a few more minutes. 

Zarc. 

That was the name of the man Shingo had made contact with, but what to do with that information. Who was this Zarc guy? How did he tie in with Yuya? Did they work together? Was Zarc the guy on the other end of Yuya’s earpiece at the scene of Sawatari’s murder? 

Why did Yuya need the money? What happened to him seventeen years ago on that fateful journey back home from school? Why was he back now? And. What was he planning to do next? 

Yuto rubbed his temples again, a headache growing behind his eyes. He’ll have to deal with this in the morning when Yuri and Yugo make it back into the precinct. 

For now, he simply wrote “Zarc” on a sticky note and pinned it to a blank space on the board. Oh well he shrugged. At least now, finally, they had a solid lead.