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Katou Akie is well-versed in her eldest sons antics- from getting stuck up in trees trying to save cats when he was five, to when he was suspended from school for punching a bully when he was fourteen, to when he moved away to Tokyo when he was nineteen to pursue a career in what he loved best- justice.
Infiltrating a boat headed to Panama in order to apprehend the supposed dead father of his multi-billionaire partner, however- she has to take a few deep breaths and calm herself down, before booking the first train to Tokyo she can, packing her bags, and setting off to go and see her son.
The nice boy who used to be Haru’s partner, Hoshino, had been the one to call her after Haru had made his way off the boat after the incident. He had assured her that her son was alright, a non-fatal gunshot wound to the arm, but ultimately safe, and Akie was comforted to know that he was treated well- most likely by the private doctors of the billionaire fellow. (Haru had refused to call him a friend, but had stopped referring to him as an ‘enemy’ or a ‘nuisance’ quite some time ago.)
She walks out of the train station to see Hoshino and his spotlessly white police car waiting for her.
“Hoshino-kun, I assume you’re taking me to Haru’s apartment?”
Hoshino bows quickly, a look of apprehension on his face. “On the contrary, Katou-san, Katou-se- Haru -senpai is actually back at the police station.”
Akie sighs exasperatedly- her son, ever the workaholic. She nods and smiles slightly, and Hoshino reciprocates with a shake of his head. Of course, if anyone was going to drag Haru out of his workplace it would have to be his own mother.
They keep mild small talk throughout the journey- ‘How’s the job going, how’s your family, how’s the weather been?’ It’s nice- ever since Haru left the First Division and stopped being partners with Hoshino, the limited times Akie saw Hoshino or even heard him mentioned in conversation became almost nonexistent. Now, she can see, Hoshino seems happier, a little brighter. She hopes he and Haru have finally begun to reconcile- Hoshino is a lovely boy, and Haru is her son.
She’s happy they’ve begun to heal.
They reach the police station in due time, Hoshino smoothly parking and opening the door for Akie. He leads her through the maze that is the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, until they reach the door with the ‘Modern Crimes Prevention Task Force’ emblazoned on a plaque next to the entrance. She steps in, and sees the unmistakable figure of her son leaning against a desk, scribbling something onto a piece of paper.
“ Haru. ”
He whips his head around so fast you can almost hear the air moving around him, utters a joyful “Kaa-san!” and runs into her arms, as efficiently as he can with his left arm in a sling and an extra nine inches above her.
Still, she cradles her son as best she can, rubbing his back and pressing small kisses to his head as he buries his head into her shoulder, breathing heavier than usual- she recognises the tell-tale sign of him about to cry and makes gentle shushing noises into his ear and stroking the back of his head.
She’s in the middle of a government building, surrounded by her son's coworkers, embracing her 5’10, 30-year-old son, and yet she feels like she’s back at home, soothing a scrape on his knee from baseball played in the park with his friends, or holding him at 15 years old as he tries his best not to shed a tear because ‘ brave people don’t cry,’ or maybe soaking up the last remnants of her son's presence as they hug, him at 19 years old standing on a train platform, the speaker above them announcing the next train to Tokyo and a one-way ticket tucked into his wallet.
After some time, Haru steps back from Akie, taking deep breaths with his eyes slightly red-rimmed. His colleagues, the tall blonde, the petite girl sipping on a canned coffee, and the stocky brunet are all smiling at them. She waves in recognition and chuckles at Haru’s blush as he realises they were watching.
One person that isn’t there, however, is the so-called billionaire that pops up so frequently in their conversations- no sign of an expensive suit, no whiff of cologne, no trail of cash notes, nothing.
“Say, Haru, isn’t there someone I should be meeting?”
Haru sighs and nods, linking his arm through hers and guiding her out of the room. “This way.”
He guides her to what looks like an interrogation room, but opens the side door to the spectator’s room instead- before turning the handle, he warns her, “He’s been a bit… fragile, since the boat, so- be gentle, please?”
She squeezes his arm in reassurance, and they walk in together.
The first thing she thinks is that ‘fragile’ is an understatement. The man in front of her looks like his emotions are being held into his body by a single thread. His suit is immaculate, as is his hair, and his visible wounds are all neatly patched up, but the desperation and intensity in his eyes as he stares through the glass into the interrogation room is haunting.
The second thing she notes is how when the man turns his head to see Haru standing in the doorway, his shoulders relax- marginally, but they still do- and how something else flickers in his eyes- a sense of warmth or comfort, like the hope fluttering around in Pandora’s box. This display of trust, however, is brought to a halt when he catches a glimpse of Akie standing slightly behind him- the walls fall right back into place, the locks clicking shut, and his spine and shoulders retain the rigidity they had before.
Akie doesn’t know the details of the fiasco on the boat and the events leading up to it, but her heart aches for this poor boy who clearly doesn’t know how to handle his own emotions. Where is his mother? Akie thinks. It's only right for her to be here, supporting her son through his trauma!
Haru breaks the tension by introducing them. “Kambe, this is my mother, Katou Akie, Kaa-san, this is my, um- well, ex-work partner, Kambe Daisuke.”
She bows. “Nice to meet you, Kambe-san.”
Kambe responds with a more curt bow and a “Likewise,” before turning to Haru and asking, “How much does she know?”
“Next to nothing,” Haru replies. Akie feels a bit disgruntled at the fact she’s clearly not very knowledgeable about the young man in front of her, but she supposes she’ll find out soon enough. They are in a police station after all.
Kambe reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a few pieces of paper, all folded together, and inclines his head while holding the papers outstretched in Akie’s direction.
Beside her, Haru objects. “Kambe, are you sure-”
“Seeing as you trust her, I have no reason to be uncertain. And she deserves to know, seeing as you, her son, have been so involved with it.” Haru sighs, but acquiesces.
Akie opens the papers with apprehension and begins to read.
KAMBE SAYURI MURDER CASE INVESTIGATION.
KAMBE SHIGEMARU SUICIDE INVESTIGATION.
A newspaper article. ‘ HEIR TO THE KAMBE FAMILY ORPHANED AT EIGHT ?’
A photograph. An austere, serious-looking man, a kind-looking woman, and a small boy with black hair and blue eyes, positively beaming at the camera.
A few typed up reports and witness interviews. She reads about the bomb threat and how Kambe Daisuke was stuck inside a locked room with a bomb, and the refusal of his butler to help him. She reads about what happened that night in the Kambe mansion, how Kambe Shigemaru was revealed to his son to still be alive.
She reads about what happened on the boat- the adollium, the fighting, the gun, and Haru and Kambe’s eventual victory.
When she finally looks up, she realises her eyesight is blurry and has to take a handkerchief out of her handbag to dry her eyes.
Kambe Daisuke is still standing there, spine straight, shoulders squared, eyes screaming for help, and her heart breaks a little more. Instead of acknowledging her tears, he tilts his head to the left, into the interrogation room.
“He’s in there.”
Akie doesn’t need to ask who. Ever since she read the first line of the report stating Shigemaru’s ‘ return from the dead, ’ the anger at a man for being such a deceitful and neglectful father has been swelling inside of her. Blowing her nose, and perching her handbag back over her shoulder, she turns and leaves right out of the room, turns left, and makes her way to enter the interrogation room where the stinking pile of, pardon her language, shit, that is Kambe Shigemaru is sitting. She can hear her son’s protests behind her, but she pays them no mind. Her aim is the man, currently sitting and staring sullenly up at her.
“Think I’m ready to confess yet?” He says in a mocking tone. Akie’s anger swells even more.
“What.” She begins, her voice low. “What kind of scumbag treats their family the way you did?”
He seems taken aback by this- he clearly thought she was a police officer of some sort. Good, she thinks, catch him off guard. Watch him squirm.
“Valuing your job over your wife and child. Murdering your wife when she speaks up against your foul little crimes, faking your own death in order to escape the consequences, leaving your son alone for nineteen years and reappearing now to try and kill him ?”
Shigemaru’s eyes narrow as he spits venom back at her. “I chose the more important option at the time. You have no id-”
“More important than your wife and your child? So important that you murdered your wife and left your son, vulnerable and unprotected-”
“Daisuke knows how to take care of himself.”
Akie sees red and stalks towards Shigemaru, hands behind his back and handcuffed to the seat. “I’ve known Daisuke for less than an hour, and even I can tell that all that boy has ever desired was to be loved! ” And she raises her hand, and whack. Strikes it across the disgusting prick’s face.
“I hope for the sake of this world, your son, and Sayuri-san’s spirit that you rot in jail.” And turning on her heel, Akie leaves the room and slams the door behind her.
After counting to ten outside of the room Haru and Ka-Daisuke, yes, Daisuke, he deserves that much- she walks in.
Daisuke is staring at the window that separates the two rooms, Haru at his side with a hand on his cheek, a look of complete tenderness and- dare Akie say it- love in his eyes. Tears are welling in his blue eyes and streaming down his face, but his expression stays completely calm. Akie wants to break that- wants to remove the walls that Shigemaru built up around Daisuke’s heart and make Sayuri proud by taking care of her son.
She walks towards Daisuke, setting her bag down on the table and holding her hands out in front of him. He takes them with pale, trembling fingers.
“I know .” She takes a deep breath. “That Sayuri-san would be so, so proud of you.”
His face finally crumples, tears spilling out of both eyes and a heart-breaking, gut-wrenching sob tearing its way out of his throat. The effect of 19 years of deceit, pain, loneliness, neglect- all held in this one man- is now making its appearance.
There’s nothing Akie can do but hold Daisuke to her chest, and give him the mother’s love that he’d been missing all these years.
I’ll do my best to take care of your son, Sayuri-san, she thinks, and while Daisuke sobs into her shoulder and Haru holds one of his hands, whispering sweet nothings that Akie can’t hear into his hair, she feels a sense of peace wash over her, a sense of protection.
Sayuri.