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Perhaps the rain that hailed down and spared nobody was a sign for what was to come. Or it should have been the howling winds and feverish cold that would have kept Katou Haru home instead, but he paid no attention. His drenched jacket stuck to him as he trudged diligently to the office— his eyes thriving with excitement despite the grey weather.
“I’ve got them!” He announced, boasting. His smile was wide, “I’ve finally got them.”
Only Kamei and Saeki occupied the dingy room. They glanced at each other in slight confusion.
“Uh, who?” Kamei asked intelligently.
“Them,” Haru sounded breathless with anticipation, “the bombings, killings, the reason why Cho-san had gone out of his way to break open this case. It all ends tonight.”
“Wait, how-“
“I can’t explain it here, it runs too deep and involves people you wouldn’t expect. Even people here, these pigs have been living right under our nose,” his voice considerably lowered as he cut Kamei off. A trembling hand ran through his already messy hair in frustration. His eyes quickly scanned the room.
“Where’s Kambe?” Haru quipped, taking off his wet jacket and letting it hang against his chair.
“He left half an hour ago,” Saeki answered him. She was munching on an unusual snack as always. Haru flopped down on his chair, it creaked pathetically under his weight.
“Why is he never here when I need him?” He muttered.
Kambe had practically been missing for the past two weeks, coming in and out of the office as he pleased. Haru had so much to discuss with him, but he was always brushed off with excuses and reminders of how he was not supposed to be on the case.
“You should not be sticking your nose in this case, I’ve got this,” Kambe informed him repeatedly— Haru thought he sounded like a broken record. But it did the trick.
It always shut him right up.
“So? Are you gonna tell us?” Kamei asked.
“Didn’t I just say I can’t tell you guys here?” Haru rolled his eyes and leaned back on his chair, contemplating his options.
This case is more complicated than I thought.
It was the snowball effect.
Of course, it had to be Kambe’s mother who had got the ball rolling— she was the second wife of Daisuke’s father, who had died under mysterious circumstances. She was known to be outspoken, her morals burned as bright as Haru’s. Which was what got her killed.
And this very mystery was what brought Daisuke right back to Japan, to this very office, where a soon-to-be retiring detective resided and was on edge, his fingertips itching for answers.
Chosuke had hit a brick wall with this Kambe case many years ago, when his hair was not as grey and his wrinkles not as settled. The case drove him mad, not being afforded the needed resources to complete the case. He felt cheated and unsure of himself. But now, he and Haru knew exactly why the higher-ups had shut him down then and why they had tried to hush them both now.
It all came down to money. This revelation had made Haru laugh.
Of course it was money.
Corruption ran deep and long if you had unlimited money. It was a necessary cycle to keep the illegal deals away from lawful eyes. These deals were the ones that added to their never-ending bank. One after another. Everyone had been paid heftily for their silence. These intertwining secrets had brought them to today.
To where Haru sat, freezing in his shoes. And he was beyond pissed at the thought of those he respected to be bending the law for anyone, which involved Daisuke’s father and his equally as rich partners. He needed to do something. Anything to make them truly pay. He was becoming impatient.
Haru abruptly stood up. Kamei jolted back in surprise.
“Where are you going?” He asked, holding a hand to his chest.
“Somewhere,” he vaguely replied, grabbing his wet jacket and leaving.
Haru headed off, a vague destination in mind. He had one stop to make before dropping by Kambe’s mansion to discuss the overwhelming load of information that was scrambled in his mind.
He hurriedly flagged a taxi down and informed the driver to take him to a warehouse.
This very warehouse was where he had conducted multiple stakeouts in the past few weeks. It was where all the supposed activity and deals take place. But he had never been lucky, the warehouse always seemed to be empty.
And yet, at this very moment, a rainy late afternoon at that, something drew Haru in back to that very warehouse.
If he could even call it that.
The taxi let him off in front of a very elegant entrance, the Kambe’s signature engraved on the wooden handle. The rain had already simmered by then. Haru just stood in front of the warehouse, wondering what on earth brought him back to a dead end.
But something did catch his attention.
There was a slight movement inside the warehouse, prompting Haru to move closer. He heard a few noises that sounded like a heated conversation. This confirmed his suspicions and made him even more curious. His feet carried him to the back entrance that he had broken open a few weeks ago. One hand was on his gun that he hadn’t fire in years. It felt foreign to him— his hands unsteady and unwilling to draw his gun out.
He quietly slipped inside and was shocked by the bright light. It blinded him and it took him a few seconds to adjust his eyes.
These few seconds were all it took for the snowball to stutter and crash.
So this is how it ends.
His eyes found a slick black gun pointed at his head. The gloved hand holding the gun was Kambe himself. There was no emotion held on his face as he watched the surprise and fear painting Haru’s expressions.
“What are you doing here?” Kambe’s voice was as composed as his dark eyes.
“I...” he trailed off before he finally got his senses back, “what do you think you’re doing? Get that gun away from me.”
“I can say the same thing,” he looked down pointedly, where Haru’s hand was tightly clenched around his gun, “so, what are you doing here?”
“I was just... looking for you.”
“At my warehouse that you’re not supposed to know about?” He never lowered the gun, keeping it eye-level.
“What-“ Haru was confused. He was sure his information pin-pointed it all to Daisuke’s father.
So, why was he pointing the gun at him?
“What are you doing here?” Haru repeated Daisuke’s question back at him.
“You shouldn’t have stuck your nose in this case,” Kambe brushed past the question, the gloved hand tightened considerably around the gun. It was the only emotion he had shown within the past few minutes. “You should be at home right now.”
“So, why are you here?” Kambe’s voice was not as composed as before, there was a hint of anger hidden in its depths. Haru thought he even heard regret.
“Kambe, put that gun down,” he tried to sound calm despite his racing heart, “let’s talk this out. I know all about your father-“
“You know nothing, Katou,” he cut him off, the gun never wavered from his head, “you shouldn’t be here.”
“Okay, then let’s discuss this, I’ve been wanting to talk it all out with you. But you’ve been brushing me off, so how about we talk now? Maybe there’s something I’m misunderstanding.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Kambe repeated, again ignoring his ramblings, “I didn’t want to do this. Not to you.”
“Wait,” Haru’s eyes widened as he saw the gun travel from his head to his chest, “what are you doing? Kambe-“
“Why don’t you ever listen to me, Katou?” His usual composed eyes now seemed to be filled with something else. Sadness, perhaps. “I- I don’t know how many times I’ve told you not to take up this case and here you are. You’re too stubborn for your own good.”
“Kambe, please-“
“So, what are you doing here?” Haru watched a tear roll down Kambe’s face, the pain starkly contrasted against his steel-like expression. “Why did you have to do this to me?”
Haru’s hand that was clenched on his gun started to pull upwards, to point at Kambe’s chest in defense.
“I don’t want this, I’m… not like him,” Kambe didn’t react to the gun pointing at him, his voice was now a mere whisper as he stared intently at Haru.
“I don’t want this either,” Haru said, hoping his voice didn’t give away the betrayal and hurt that grasped at his heart. “So why? Why are you pointing that gun at me?”
“He’s family, Katou. Money can’t replace that,” Kambe explained, never taking his eyes off him.
“And now what?” Anger was creeping in his bones, “you’re going to kill me off that easily? What was I ever to you? Another play-thing you can pay off?”
“A partner,” he simply replied, his finger now itched at the trigger, “someone who should have just listened to me and stayed at home.”
“So this is my fault?” Haru started to laugh. A million and one thoughts crashed in his head and made him feel nauseous.
“I’m sorry,” there was a finality in his tone.
Haru’s stepped back in fear at the change of tone, the gun in his hand lowered, “wait, Daisuke-“
“I’m sorry, Haru.”
The gun blasted off.
The sound rang across the empty warehouse.
The rain was truly still now. There was no longer the splatter of water against the windows.
Haru staggered back in shock, his hand quickly feeling the hole in his chest. The pain was numbed by the adrenaline, but the blood that started to spill from his mouth attested to the damage done.
He fell to the ground, hand still on his chest. The cold gun clattered beside him.
Useless, broken.
“Daisuke,” he gurgled, the blood overflowing down his face. The desperation evident in his small and weak voice, “p-please, don’t do this. Help m-me... please.”
Kambe just watched him with pain etched on his face. He fell to his knees beside Haru, uncaring of the blood that was quickly coating the white floor.
“I... I didn’t want to do this, Haru,” the tears now finally became plentiful as he gripped Haru’s blood-stained hands.
“H... h-help me. I don’t w-want to... die-” he coughed, wheezing as he did so. A surge of blood from his mouth soaked his shirt.
Kambe did not know what to reply for once in his life.
”I’m s-scared,” Haru sounded sluggish. His eyes were starting to glaze and lose focus.
“Wait- no, Haru, I’m sorry,” Kambe pleaded, his eyes wide, “no- HEUSC, call the ambulance, now.”
The hand in Kambe’s grasp was losing strength and felt slack.
“There is no need to,” HEUSC monotonously replied back.
“What do you mean!” His voice was raised in panic, he let Haru’s hand fall and tightly pressed at the gunshot wound to try and stop the bleeding. “He’s dying, call the ambulance. Now!”
Warm blood kept slipping through his fingers, he didn’t know how to save him. Everything was spinning. It was too much.
He was losing too much.
“Katou Haru died two minutes ago at 6:53 pm. Are you sure you would like to proceed with the call? The bullet stuck in his chest belongs to your gun.”
“No,” he sounded breathless, “you’re lying, analyze his vitals again.”
There was a pause as HEUSC did so.
“His vitals are the same.”
“NO,” he screamed, finally losing all composure. The hand that was tight against Haru’s unmoving chest pressed harder.
As if that would bring him back.
”No, no, no, no,” he choked out between gasping breaths.
Please, you can’t be dead.
I’m so sorry.
But no amount of apologies brought him back.
The only sound that could now be heard were his restrained sobs. Kambe never let his hand off his chest. Haru's unseeing eyes coldly looked past him, looked past the mess Kambe had become.
It was 7:02 pm.
There was a sudden call from his father, probably to confirm the deed.
So.
He took a deep, shaky breath before answering the call.
This is how it ends.