Chapter Text
This story is a work of fiction, featuring fictional characters, and set in a fictionalized Tokyo, Japan of 1989.
Similarities and dissimilarities between this story’s 1989 and the real 1989 are one hundred percent unintentional, seeing as I wasn’t alive in 1989.
But I won’t say it isn’t real.
Please enjoy.
11/19/1989
Makoto Niijima strolled through the empty gray hallway, her body tense as she walked with an urgent pace towards the interrogation chamber. She was wearing her police uniform, attire which, most days, never saw light beyond her office, her home, and the distance between them. But today was a different day.
With the detective intuition she’d inherited from her father, Makoto cycled through all the possibilities like a spinning roulette. What could have happened? How was it connected to her, her little sister Sae, and Akechi-san? She’d been putting all the pieces together for months now, but after all this time, she still hadn’t the slightest clue what had happened… or what was going to happen.
Despite her having control over the entire police force, somehow all the investigators and officers under Makoto’s command had gotten nowhere. Goro Akechi-san, her Chief Inspector, had continuously cited dead ends— but Makoto felt it just had to be something more. Something; or perhaps a someone, pulling their strings. For all she knew, it could even be one of her own men.
The cause of this evident paradigm shift was far out of her control— and that scared Makoto more than anything. But whatever it was, she couldn’t just sit behind her desk and give orders any longer. She needed answers, and though questioning a suspect was well below her paygrade, it was clear she couldn’t trust anyone else to get them for her.
“Excuse me!” A guard called out, moving to block Makoto’s path. “This area’s off-”
Makoto looked up and glared at the man, instantly shutting him up with her eyes; piercing, bright and red enough to kill with but a single glance. After a beat, she retrieved her badge from her pocket and held it up where it could be clearly seen in the dim light of the underground chamber.
“I’m Niijima. I’ll be taking this case from here.”
“Oh, uh-” The guard looked surprised. It was clear he hadn’t a script in mind for this predicament.
“Let me through. Now.”
“Um, Niijima, see… erm… we didn’t— this case is out of your hands—”
“I am the Police Commissioner! Every case is in my hands!” Makoto pocketed her badge, and took one step forward, still glaring threateningly. “Let me through, or I shall see to it that you are properly disciplined and reassigned!”
“I see…” The guard nervously stepped aside. “My apologies, Commissioner…”
Makoto continued to make her way towards the door, but it was no sooner than she placed her hand on the knob that an amused chuckle came from the other end of the hallway. And a very familiar chuckle at that.
“Niijima-san…”
What?
Makoto slowly turned her head to confirm what she’d heard.
“…Akechi?!”
Goro Akechi, Chief Investigator of the Tokyo Police Force, was standing behind Makoto, his face laced with a smug, cold smile. His long chestnut hair floated freely about his wide shoulders, reflecting his carefree disposition. “I daresay you seem to be slightly behind the times.”
“What do you mean by that?!”
“The SIU has issued an order dictating that you are to stay out of this,” Akechi answered coolly. “I can’t imagine why, but I’m certain whatever their reason, they aren’t all too pleased with your recent actions.”
“What right have they to do that?!” Makoto shouted furiously, balling her hands into fists. “I’m in charge here!”
“Word is you won’t be for much longer, Niijima-san.” Akechi’s attitude about the matter was wholly nonchalant. “I’ve been told the superintendent is currently considering replacing you with someone… how to best put this… better suited to the task.” He nodded, seeming satisfied with that choice of words. “I do believe you too often let your emotion override logic.”
Makoto gritted her teeth, her jaw trembling furiously. “Well… I haven’t been replaced yet, now have I?! If I’ll be losing my job regardless, then I’ve no incentive to follow orders!” She slammed her fist against the door. “How’s that logic for you, Akechi?”
Akechi theatrically put a hand to his chin, and chuckled slyly once more. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.” He turned and walked in the direction from which he’d come. “If you must insist… then by all means, go ahead and question the suspect. It’s not like it matters much anyway.”
Before opening the door, Makoto took a moment to calm herself down. She needed to appear competent and level-headed before the suspect. She needed to use her time wisely. She needed to focus on her job, for as long as she still had it.
As Akechi’s footsteps receded into the ether, and his words descended to the bottom of Makoto’s mind, she swung open the door and briskly stepped inside the interrogation chamber.
She found, sitting before her, a young man of rather mature appearances, with mussed up, untidy dark brown hair and a bruised face, looking down at the table in silence. His Shujin uniform was still clean, and, indeed, he looked rather respectable. Not like a criminal at all. Which made it all the more…
“I can’t believe it’s you.” Makoto tried to keep too much emotion from permeating her voice, but it was all too difficult to do so. She realized, now, just how crestfallen she was at it being… this boy. “You seemed like such a good student. I… respected you… believed you…”
He looked up at Makoto, revealing his glasses, warm gray eyes, and small, controlled goatee sitting on his chin.
“Sakura-kun.”
“Niijima-san, eh?” The young Sojiro Sakura laughed dryly, as, with clarity and focus, he established eye contact with Makoto. “Funny turn of fate…”
Makoto returned the eye contact. Within Sojiro’s eyes, she saw… worry. Concern, curiosity, fatigue… but not fear. He was difficult to read… and that bothered her.
A small clear object in Makoto’s peripheral vision drew her attention. When she turned her head to see it, she realized it was an empty syringe.
What?
“What the…?!” Makoto gasped. “I would never have ordered…” Ever so more furious, she punched the wall, her fist becoming bruised in the process. “Who’d have dared to do a thing like that to you without my approval?!”
Sojiro said nothing, only nodding slowly.
After taking a few deep breaths, slowly coming to terms with how truly powerless she had now become, Makoto refocused her attention to Sojiro. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Sojiro blinked and rubbed his eyes. “So… what do you wanna know, Niijima-san?”
Still not quite recovered from her shock at what had happened, Makoto sat down. “Where do I even begin…?”
“You were saying about how you respected me.”
“That’s correct. I did. I considered you an admirable, upstanding young man.” Makoto swallowed. “My duty ought to be finding out the facts, your motive, how you committed these crimes and why… but I think I’m truly more interested in how you… of all people…”
“Yeah, no one would’ve ever thought to suspect me, huh?”
Makoto nodded. “I want to know why you chose to risk the life you had, Sakura-kun. It’s not like you were disadvantaged or disenfranchised. You had no criminal record. There was a bright future ahead of you. So tell me… why did you throw it all away?”
The former model student shook his head. “Jeez… where do I even begin…”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Makoto couldn’t help but find it a little funny how Sojiro had repeated her words right back at her. Perhaps, she thought, our positions right now aren’t so different…
“How about you start at the beginning?”
Sojiro nodded in earnest agreement. “You’re the boss.”
The previous Boss inhaled deeply, then began to recall his memories.