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Even now, sitting in her office and watching the clouds outside her window, Yosano felt unsafe.
It was a reoccurring feeling that still followed her through the years. During long periods of time, it was a constant feeling that made itself at home in her heart so, by now, Yosano felt unsafe and that was just routine.
Yosano was rarely scared of losing her place in the Agency or, perhaps, it would be more truthful to say that was not the case anymore.
“Your ability is useless to us,” Ranpo had told her back then. “And you won’t ever have to use it again at the Agency.”
It was true.
And it was a comfort to know so. But even if the comfort she found in Shachou and Ranpo kept her sane through her darkest times, it wasn’t enough on its own. It was not out of ungratefulness that Yosano didn’t call it safety; it was not out of ungratefulness that she still felt unsafe. She felt unsafe, but she wasn’t scared anymore and that was an important distinction to make.
Yosano didn’t feel sorry for herself. Not anymore, too. The past was what it was, and she didn’t think much about it except for the times she did.
Sometimes, Yosano dreamed of Mori-sensei’s death. In those dreams, she was never the one to cause it, but those were dreams filled with despair and guilt because Mori-sensei was just a man. Not even a particularly twisted or evil man. For a long time, Yosano thought she was his victim and would continue to be his victim for as long as they were both alive and he could find her.
Sometimes, Yosano thought about Mori-sensei and wondered what he would be doing at that time. It felt good to remember that she didn’t know, that Yosano hadn’t seen him since she acquired her medical license, and that there was a significant distance between them. Yosano smiled to herself. Back then, getting her license had been Shachou’s suggestion to her as she had plenty of free time. It had been Ranpo’s suggestion as well as she still wanted to save lives.
“There are plenty of people who save lives without any special abilities,” Ranpo had said then. “Your ability isn’t that special.”
And it was true, too.
And it felt good to realize so.
It took time for her to feel at ease with her own self. It took time to relearn to trust herself. The idea that she could’ve been righteous in such a wrong way that it brought about only harm haunted her more than Mori-sensei and that wasn’t something she could dream away. Her guilt was heavy and it was her own.
Sometimes, Yosano dreamed of the soldiers back then. In those dreams, they were always seeking revenge. Even the kindest of them. Those dreams were filled with guilt and resignation because those soldiers were just men and they died but she was the angel of death and she was still alive. Sometimes, Yosano thought about what those soldiers’ lives could’ve been like if they returned to their homes if she hadn’t been there, if she didn’t have this ability, and, at those times, she remembered all the small pieces of information shared with her before hating her ability became hating her.
Sometimes, Yosano couldn’t stand herself, her good intentions, and her ability. Sometimes, she wished she was different or someone else entirely, that she could find pleasure in being twisted or evil, and that she had no guilt to carry by herself for the rest of her life. But, at those times, she thought about Mori-sensei and how even Mori-sensei, who was efficient in a cold way that she disapproved and saw fault in, even him, she couldn’t believe would carry no guilt after how everything happened then.
She sighed, still looking out of the window. Mori-sensei was probably capable of rationalizing his guilt into becoming something unnecessary to take along the way.
“What good is it to feel guilty over what must be done?” said his voice as she remembered it in her mind.
“To not commit excesses,” she could argue. “To be righteous.”
And she imagined that he would smile then, in that creepy taunting way he used to smile when he knew that he had won an argument.
“Is that so, Yosano-kun?”
Sometimes, her mind would betray her like that and suddenly she felt angry at herself for all that had happened, for every ruined life, for every healed injury, and for how, despite everything, even in the safety of the Agency, she still felt unsafe as if she was cursed to be a victim of those days for as long as she was alive. In those moments, she blamed Mori-sensei for all that happened to her, for finding her, and she hated him hated him hated him so much that she wanted to scream her thoughts into silence.
Yosano stood up suddenly.
She knew that spiral well enough to recognize its ugly first steps and she refused to take them. She had decided, a conscious and intentional decision, that she would never let herself be a victim again. It was her ability. It was her guilt. It was her past, yes, but it was her future ahead of her and Mori-sensei would never have any say on it and those soldiers would not be any better if she only blamed herself and became paralyzed by guilt.
Yosano breathed out slowly, counted to five, and breathed in again.
Mori-sensei didn’t have to die for that much to happen.
He didn’t have to disappear.
He didn’t even have to leave her be.
In fact, her decision had nothing to do with the actual Mori-sensei as he existed now but with the ghost that lived in her mind since that time.
Yosano shook her head.
She was learning to be a detective now. As a young doctor, she was learning to be a detective. It made her smile, and it calmed her heart. No one discouraged her from becoming a detective even if, that, too, was not something the Agency needed right then. Ranpo was more than enough as it was, but it felt good to not be needed in any special ways.
There was a knock on the door, and it startled her. Yosano blinked and, for an odd moment, she wondered if her thoughts were so loud that they disturbed everyone else in the building.
“Come in,” she said a little too late because Ranpo had no patience for such things and her words caught him already entering her office.
He took a look at her and Yosano knew that he knew the state of her mind at that moment. He didn’t comment on it.
“Good, you’re not doing anything important,” he said and grinned at her. “Do you know how to ride the subway? Of course, you do, come on or else we’ll be late.”
Yosano blinked and then smiled fondly at Ranpo’s back. She took off her coat and hung it behind the door before following him out of the Agency.
“What sort of crime will you be solving today?” she asked and Ranpo laughed, bright and loud in such a way that it brought light to the dark corners of her mind. He started telling her all about the request they received.
Yosano looked out of the window. Outside, the sky was blue and cloudless now. She smiled to herself and hurried up to walk with Ranpo. This was still a beginning, and the path ahead was her own. Maybe, at some point in her future, she would barely recognize this feeling more easily.
As it was, Yosano was learning to be hopeful again.