Chapter Text
A folder with about fifty sheets of paper fell onto Guren Ichinose's desk. The renowned detective raised his head lazily and saw through his blurry eyes that his boss was looking at him with a serious expression.
"Is this a place to sleep?" An eyebrow was raised after the question, his classic and irredeemable way of recriminating mistakes.
Guren sighed as he settled into the uncomfortable chair, "yes, after spending all morning writing those absurd summaries you like, it's the least I should do." Undeterred by the slim, unbearable man who was bothering him, he yawned to shake off the last trace of sleepiness in his body.
"No, Guren, the answer is an obvious and resounding no. Now make yourself a cup of coffee and read this. I want you to be clear before lunch, otherwise I'll hand the case over to someone else, and considering where it's taking place, I highly doubt you'd want me to do that."
A wry smile escaped the black-haired man's lips, "ha, who are you going to give the case to? If you've put all the information in the same folder, it's because you expect it to be done as soon as possible. And seeing your desperation, I imagine that you consider it a matter of life and death."
The corners of the stern man's face turned into an ironic smile, "your instincts failed you on something, would you like to try again?"
Guren frowned and tilted his head slightly to the side. His gaze fell on the folder on the table, lingered there for about two seconds, and then returned to his boss. Pulling a more professional mask over his face, he said quietly, "the complaint is anonymous, they brought this information to you."
"And that's more like you, you almost make me think you're losing your faculties," shaking his head, he rested his hand on the table and leaned over to talk to him closely, "you know very well I don't trust this kind of thing, that's why I want you to take the case. You can take whoever you want from the department, but try to be as discreet as possible, that place is important... a valuable piece of the city, I don't want any problems with anyone, I'm only interested in getting to the truth."
Guren leaned back in his chair, sighing again like before; the sooner he got rid of this man and his unbearable orders, the sooner he could consider the case solved, "got it, got it... you'll hear from me in the afternoon, don't wait for them before, and do me a favor and call Shigure and Sayuri."
Deciding to avoid a fight, the man retreated to call the two young women Guren had grown up with.
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"The Blue Moon Club... Why does it look so familiar?" After putting the papers on the table, Sayuri turned her eyes to her superior and most trusted friend.
"We've been there a few times, their live music is pretty good," Guren replied, not really paying much attention as he wrote down the most important data on the blackboard, "pay attention to this, I need you two to learn it well," when he had the eyes of the two girls on him, Guren took a deep breath, "the club is jazz. For the last two decades the business has been run by Tenri Hiragi, he bought it three years ago and from what the papers say... it seems that he wants to give it to his son to run in the background."
"That information... it seems to come from someone on the inside, doesn't it?" Shigure joined the conversation, taking a seat in the chair that belonged to the man.
"Or it's a rumor from the street. It would be good to think about it from both sides," Sayuri corrected her girlfriend, causing Guren to snap his fingers in agreement.
"My teachings are bearing fruit, thank God... yes, that's the line we should follow. I'll take care of the investigation from the inside, you guys search for information in the neighborhoods around the club. Be careful, don't get separated at any time, we still have time, I don't want any of you to take a different path just because you want to feel useful by advancing the investigation. Is that clear? No one is dead, we don't owe anyone justice... you come first, girls."
After hearing a "yes, Captain," Guren asked them both to step back and do the job he had given them. Alone in this very small room, he sighed and leaned on the edge of the table, staring intently at the board in front of him.
• Blue Moon Jazz Club.
• Series of thefts of valuable musical instruments.
• Problem began six weeks ago.
• Acts discreetly, twice a week.
• Unknown informant.
• Motive for crime unknown.
His eyes narrowed as he stared at the fifth line. Without many clues, just a few sheets of paper that mentioned the different owners of the place and their personal data, as well as the instruments that had recently disappeared, Guren thought he should start by finding out who had sent them this envelope without prints and address, and what was the motive behind it; maybe he wanted to ruin this famous place? Was he a music lover seeking justice? He wasn't sure yet, but he bet all his material possessions that it was someone who knew more details than he had given them.
This anonymous informant had dropped a few small crumbs on the plate, but was in an ideal position to pick them up and throw them away without much trouble.
He stepped away from the table, grabbed his jacket off the hanger, and walked toward the spot that had stolen all his attention.
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He liked his job, sitting in front of a pile of papers and picking at the threads that held all the data together to reveal the complex figure that lay within; walking the streets and tearing the mask off people who kept themselves in the shadows. However, Guren was also someone who was a bit lazy, a lover of easy things or using his own tricks to make things easy, so finding the door to the famous site locked didn't amuse him one bit.
His left eye twitched as he read a message written in ink on gold-colored paper: "Schedule change, we now offer our shows only from seven o'clock in the evening, sorry for the inconvenience." He was about to curse the sky when a male voice came from behind him.
"Excuse me," he said in a tone that could be described as a mixture of toughness and gentleness.
Guren turned on his heels to face this person, thinking that this might be one of the tricks he used to get home early. Dressed in a dark blue silk shirt and simple black pants, you couldn't tell at first glance that he was a detective, so he gave the young man in front of him his best smile.
He scanned him in only three seconds. Male, about his age; hair as white as the small flakes that were beginning to fall in the city, eyes as blue as today's clear sky; he was wearing a white wool coat and pants of the same fabric, but cream-colored.
Was he in the same situation as him, or would he accuse him of looking at the details of the place to break into, or did he work at this place?
"Sorry... it's been a long time since I've been here, and I thought I'd come in for a bite to eat," his eyes lingered on the stranger's until he let out a sound of affirmation.
"Don't worry, you're not the only one this has happened to," he looked away, reaching for something in his jacket pocket where his hands were tucked, and finally pulling out a set of keys, "although we don't usually do this… why don't you come by and I'll offer you something? The kitchen's closed, but the appetizers are good and quick to make."
Jackpot. Guren had to hold back the smile that wanted to form at the corners of his face. Making sure to stay in his role, his features drew an annoyed expression, "I don't want to cause any inconvenience, I can look for another place that's open..."
"No problem, how could I leave a starving man on the street in this cold?" Guren's eye twitched again, partly because he felt he was calling him a beggar in his heart of hearts, partly because he had interrupted his performance.
"Besides... I assume you left your jacket in the car, you must be cold. Please... come in with confidence," without giving him room to respond, he turned to give him a smile after unlocking the door, "unless you want to eat a complex dish, I assure you that you will have a good experience."
Finally, Guren smiled nodding his head, "all right, then I'll take your word for it." Since the handsome boy had stepped aside, he was the first to enter. His pupils were dilated from the lack of light, but his trained senses were able to make a quick, basic inspection of the place.
By the time he blinked, the young man had already turned on the main lights and put down his coat to walk to the back of the bar counter, "you can sit anywhere you like, I won't be long."
Taking his comment at face value, Guren sat across from him, "won't you get in trouble with your bosses if you do this?"
He remained silent, taking ingredients from various shelves, and Guren took the moment to observe the place; it had changed since his last visit. Even though it was located in one of the most modest areas of the city, Tenri had somehow managed to turn it into a place specially designed for lovers of the genre, and for those rich people who wanted to feel the slight danger of walking through the streets where they usually drove illegally with their expensive and elegant vehicles, and to live with people who had crossed the line of drug use, going from doing it for entertainment, like them, to making it their routine, no matter what time of day they did it. Guren had been fascinated by this place after its renovation, the musicians who played were excellent, even if their names were unknown, but the problems associated with visiting the neighborhood outweighed his fondness for the place.
The atmosphere inside felt stuffy, but Guren pushed that thought away as he considered that the current case might be influencing him. The decor was pleasing to the eye, but it was the pictures on the wall near the main stage that caught his attention the most; he thought he needed to get closer somehow.
He snapped out of his trance when the stranger showed him a bottle of Johnnie Walker, a Walker's Old Highland to be exact. The movement caught the side of his eye and his head nodded on its own, ignoring the warning and pleading his brain was giving him as it sensed the bill for this investigation was about to skyrocket.
"I appreciate your sympathy, but my father is the boss and my brother is second in command. Believe me...they'd be more concerned about seeing me with such an attractive man," the drink that slid down the detective's throat ended up going the way it didn't at that very direct implication, and he found himself coughing as he fumbled for a napkin.
If Guren thought he was quick, this man surpassed him in that regard, reaching over and placing the napkin he was looking for on his hand, "oh, don't worry about the bill, I know it's pretty expensive whiskey, but it's on the house... so you can warm up."
When the detective raised his head, the white-haired man could see the slightly hesitant expression dancing on his face and couldn't help but laugh. Guren had to admit that of all people, he had come across a rather curious one, "wow, God must have a good place for you in his kingdom, not everyone acts like that."
The boy shrugged and placed a small plate with various snacks in front of him, "maybe, who knows? I'll try to confirm or deny it when the time comes, Mr..." the hesitation with which he finished the sentence made Guren nod quickly.
"Ichinose, but you can call me Guren," he cleared his throat, straightening his back to make his introduction more formal.
He heard a "nice to meet you, then" from him and made a disinterested hand gesture in response, "no need to be so polite, though... how should I address you? You said you were the boss's son, but I don't even know what the last name might be."
His gaze sharpened as he focused on this person's reaction. Previously, he had thought that anyone who had access to the premises could be considered suspicious; meeting this young man, not knowing that he had such a close relationship with the higher-ups, he felt that he could extract some information from him about how the behind-the-scenes of this job worked. Now that he saw that this was a Hiragi, he felt that he should take it more calmly, paying special attention to his movements and expressions, no matter how subtle they might be.
The stranger hesitated for a moment until he finally let out a sound of affirmation, "never mind… anyway, I'm not very close to them," he looked up at him and gave him a soft smile, "my name is Shinya, I work with them as a singer, but as you can see... sometimes I get to take care of the establishment when it's closed, I guess it's the effects of being the least favorite son."
The flood of information didn't dazzle Guren as much because he was used to, but it made his head tingle a little and he started to work faster to outline all the data. Without looking away, he murmured, "gee, that's a shame..."
Shinya shrugged, stepping out from behind the bar while drying his hands, "nah, it doesn't bother me, I'm pretty good like this."
Somehow, Guren felt that Shinya was aware that his eyes were following his every move. His thought was confirmed when the boy looked over his shoulder and gave him a mischievous smile, "did you just come for the food or are you also interested in our shows? Maybe it's a bit forward or rude for me to say this myself... but I'm really good, why don't you stay and at least watch my performance?"
Clinging to the opportunity like a man clings to a bar of gold, the detective nodded with a broad smile, "it will be my pleasure."
Shinya chuckled softly and repeated with a soft sound, "my father and brother will be late, so you can rest assured that you won't get me into trouble as you say... as for the rest of the workers, there are still about two hours before they start their shifts, would you mind helping me in the meantime? It's not much to do, but extra help always comes in handy, and this way you get to see our place from a different perspective, honestly... I think many would kill for such an opportunity."
Guren agreed with that last point and couldn't help but wonder if the gods had blessed him with this stroke of luck. Finishing his meal, he sat up, quickly grabbed the glass and took the last sip of the drink, "sure, what do I have to do?"
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The lights of the place had dimmed, the melody of the instruments seeping into the atmosphere in a soft and harmonious way, as if it was struggling to cling to the minds of the customers. Shinya had offered Guren a table near the stage, and as far as the young man could see, those were reserved exclusively for the most prestigious customers; at a glance, the detective recognized some of those present, businessmen of all kinds.
Sliding his index finger along the rim of his third glass of whiskey, Guren thought he was forgetting something, but the thought was completely dismissed when Shinya's slender figure slipped into his field of vision. The singer had entered the stage and received a round of enthusiastic applause and cheers, it was hard to tell if they really loved him, if they were under the influence of alcohol or if it was a mixture of both. Shinya thanked them with a small bow, and after the microphone was adjusted to his height, the live band began to play for him.
The detective was completely unaware of the stress his superior was feeling at the moment, as he hadn't received the call he had requested, though perhaps that was of little importance to him; however, the two girls working for him were a little more important, and had been back in the office two hours ago, intending to tell their superior what they had found out.
Guren's only worry at the moment was that the alcohol would make him forget the mental map he had made of the place. He promised himself that this would be his last drink and that he would return to his car after Shinya's performance to write down all the information he had gathered, but he didn't have to try very hard, the young man's performance captured all his senses.
He didn't know what perfume he was using, but the scent reached the tip of his nose; it was nothing extravagant, and if he wasn't working at what he was working at, he probably wouldn't have noticed it, but the scent was the first thing that cleared his mind. His ears were pampered by a song that was unfamiliar to him, but if the boy told him that he had composed it, Guren would probably believe it, for it fit his voice as if there was no other person who could perform it so well. In front of him, he had a completely ethereal view, the golden lights shining on his hair and skin, so white that they could be examples of what purity was; every feature of his body and face made you want to raise your hand and run your fingertips over it, to check if it was real. He was good at analyzing new people, but he didn't know what this man's taste was.
Through the smoke and shadows of the club, Guren could catch Shinya's clear, deep gaze gliding through the audience until it met his, and he kept it fixed on him until the show ended and the applause multiplied. Shinya asked for someone to be brought out to dance, as the band would be playing a few instrumentals for the next hour, and the venue was counting down to enough space not to disturb those who decided to stay seated and enjoy their food or drink.
Guren stood up awkwardly, wanting to blame his condition on the alcohol flowing through his veins, but he was aware that it was due to the self-absorption Shinya had subjected him to, not to mention the fact that it was his favorite style of music. The compliments he had given himself earlier were completely justified, he had a natural talent for show business. On the other hand, the way his eyes shone with a hint of intensity and defiance, so different from his polite and pleasant gaze before, as if he wanted Guren to reveal something he already knew, was captured in his mind; imagination could often cloud judgment and common sense, but the detective really felt that the singer was about to create a crack in the armor of his disguise.
In the blink of an eye, the singer materialized at the detective's side, startling him, "I'm sorry… it's just that I saw you were up and I was wondering if you were thinking of asking someone to dance."
Turning his head slowly, Guren gave him a small smile, "no... I'm not very good at dancing."
"It's a pity, but I could teach you if you want," Shinya didn't let him continue and took a step closer, bowing his head weakly.
The black-haired man's saliva slid slowly down his throat and he cleared his throat before speaking, "although that is also a very good offer... I regret to tell you that I must leave now, although it has been a pleasure to enjoy your performance and the food; you were right, I leave completely satisfied," he showed him a wider smile than before, nodding his head as he set the chair, ready to head for the front door.
Shinya couldn't help but chuckle as he walked behind him, "I'm glad to hear that, keep that in mind next time you come by... you might want to tip me," when their eyes met he made sure to wink before looking ahead a few feet from the door, "you seemed to be quite taken with my song... or was it for something else?"
Guren's breath caught and his steps stopped as he stared at the silver nape of this person's neck. Shinya shrugged again, dismissing his own thoughts. He turned his head to speak to him over his shoulder, but the sound of the door opening interrupted him.
The two men looked in that direction; Shinya took a step to stand in front of Guren, bowing slightly in greeting, "father, brother, did everything go well today?"
Knowing the identity of these people made the detective's heart beat faster, he could definitely say that he had been blessed with a stroke of luck.
The older man made a sound of affirmation, took off his jacket and handed it to the waiter who approached them to offer his services.
"You brought a friend with you again?" The man who was technically his brother asked, glancing over his shoulder until he met Guren, who was unmoved by the threat with which he seemed to be watching him.
"Mmm... something like that," Shinya replied, and his lips seemed to form a smile that displeased the newcomers; they ignored him and walked past him, "I'll be right back!" He reported, although they didn't seem to pay much attention to him.
Shinya quickly circled Guren's wrist and pulled him outward. The movement, in a person who had consumed a drink as strong as that whiskey, sent him staggering, stumbling through the air until he reached the outside, where a blast of icy air chilled him to the bone.
"I apologize... they're just not people to deal with, much less are as nice as I'm to have a conversation with," he turned to throw flowers at himself, giving him a smile.
Guren blinked a few times until his brain put the words together into a coherent sentence, "it's okay, I totally understand. You can stay here anyway… I didn't park too far away."
"Okay... but you have to promise me that you'll come back soon, okay?" He took a step closer to him, crossing the line of what could be considered personal space, "I see you like the atmosphere, I think if you come more often... you'll discover many things about our club."
His usual instinct of suspicion made him think that his words had a depth beyond a simple invitation, but he was unable to get any information out of him because Shinya ran back to the club. Standing in the middle of a street that was already covered with a blanket of snow, Guren sighed. The cold clung to his skin and forced him to run to where his car was.
The scolding he received when he arrived at the police station, even more because of the smell of alcohol, was something he didn't want to comment on.