Chapter Text
Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
That was how much time they had until… Until what? Until Takagi died from dehydration while the world watched helplessly as his life slowly faded away? Until the culprit got tired of their little game and shot him in between the eyebrows?
Sato wouldn't sit back and let that happen. And so she pointedly proceeded to ignore everything that didn’t aid in moving forward on her way to catching the one behind all of this. She ignored the voice on her left shoulder telling her she was just trying to catch ghosts in between her fingers. Ignored the cameras and microphones of the journalists posted at the entrance of the MPD, pleading, eager for the sweet details on the next story they would squeeze out and dehumanize until there was nothing left to say. Ignored the televisions already displaying the few skewed crumbs they had been able to get their hands on in these first, crucial few hours.
It wasn’t until night fell outside the window and Sato was the only one left in the diaphanous office, that she allowed herself to plop down on a torn down rolly chair close to the tablet. It was turned off, the dark surface reflecting how tired she looked.
How frustrating it was, not understanding why all of this was happening. Even though she knew that the mere fact of being a police officer could harvest you some enemies, she struggled to imagine anyone hating Takagi like this. Takagi Wataru, the sweetest, most righteous, hardworking and dedicated police officer that the force had had the honor to employ.
But as the clock on the wall ticked, every second heavier than the last, Sato wondered if Conan was right and everything truly was related to those suicides from almost a year ago. If Wataru Date played some role in this and Takagi’s past was somehow coming after him.
“Sato.” A voice she knew well pulled her out of her divagations. Only then did she realize that Inspector Megure and her were the only people left in the room. Maybe in the whole building as well. “You should go home and rest.”
Sato shook her head. “Yes, Inspector, sorry. I… I was just thinking.”
She knew that was an excuse and Megure knew it too. But, at the same time, even though there was nothing she could do, she couldn’t bring herself to part ways with the tablet that represented their only connection with Takagi.
How was she going to drive home and get into bed, aware that he was going to spend a winter night out in the open like that? How was she going to be able to sleep without knowing if he was okay? She wouldn’t. So, perhaps, her time would be better spent by his side.
After all, Takagi was her partner, in every sense of the word. To the world, they were a brilliant duo in Division One, the ones who understood each other best, who solved the cases the fastest every time they were paired up. And, behind closed doors, Takagi was also the person who understood her like no one else, the one she felt most like herself with, the one she would choose time and time again.
She was aware that by remaining where she was, seated in that uncomfortable chair looking into a dark screen, Sato was putting them both in danger. They had been able to keep their relationship a secret, their professionalism never wavering despite the glances they sometimes exchanged, the little touches that no one saw, their often shared lines of thought that could only come from two people that slept on the same bed.
“I will get going soon, I was just thinking about the last investigation line we took. Everything must be related to the three suicides we discovered.” It was a weak excuse, but it was as much as she could muster. Her gaze was still firmly set on the tablet. She couldn’t look away from it even if she wanted to.
Behind her back, Inspector Megure let out a sigh and approached her with silent steps. When one of his big, warm hands rested on Sato’s shoulder, a knot closed around her throat.
“I know you are worried, but being tired and slow won’t be helping either of you,” Megure said, palming her once, softly.
Sato nodded. Her voice was flat the next time she spoke. “Well, he’s my partner. Of course I’m worried about him,” she said, because she wouldn’t break down in front of inspector Megure. It would tell him too much about things she wasn’t yet ready to confront.
Because every time she looked at Takagi through the screen, at his deteriorating silhouette and unfamiliar surroundings, she felt eyes on her. As if her inordinate concern would set off the alarms for everyone around her. Her coworkers, her boss, the press, the whole world. And they would know, just like that. That no normal officer would care about their colleague as much as she cared about Takagi.
“If you excuse me, sir, I will take my leave and head home.”
Sato headed for her desk, mindlessly stowing some of the stuff into her bag. She wasn’t that sure what she was picking, just that she had to keep herself entertained so as to ignore inspector Megure’s gaze pinned to the nape of her neck.
Before she could leave, Megure called her again and his voice was firm enough to pull her attention back to the room. “Wait a minute, Sato,” he said.
As he rested against one of the desks, Sato stood still in the middle of the room. He looked slightly uncomfortable. Sato looked away and fixed the strap of her bag over her shoulder to give him some sort of space.
“You don’t need to pretend in front of me,” he started. Sato’s posture immediately shifted, her shoulders tensing and eyebrows furrowing. He couldn’t be referring to what Sato was thinking, right? Suddenly, if only for one second, Takagi rolling in his sleep wasn’t at the top of her worries. “Neither of you are as discreet as you think you are.”
She stopped in her tracks, contemplated calling his bluff and pretending she didn’t know what her superior was saying. But Sato was exhausted. It had been the longest day of her life and, in the grand scheme of things, with the shadow of death looming dangerously over yet another of her loved ones, their cover being blown didn’t seem as bad.
In the end, Sato surrendered. “You know?” She asked, gaze averted to the empty desks around the office.
“I have for a while,” Megure’s voice sounded softer than Sato had expected and her gaze snapped back to him to check if she was imagining it.
But she wasn’t, because inspector Megure wore an accomplice smile that made Sato stag back to sit at the edge of the desk closest to her.
“You’re not in trouble, Sato, and neither is Takagi.”
Her eyes looked for the tablet with the screen turned off, as if she could see Takagi instead, next to her, supporting her as he always did. Sato shook her head to stop herself from gaping like a fish out of water. “But the code of conduct—”
“It states that romantic relationships between two officers are not prohibited by law.”
“They are if the people involved are partners or one directly reports to the other.” Sato knew because she checked it the day after she and Takagi went on their first date. And since that moment, Sato had hypocritically pretended not to have read that one specific rule.
“I will not separate you.”
Sato’s frown deepened. “But the code—”
“The code doesn’t know you both like I do, Sato. I see the way you work together, and separating you would do me more harm than good,” he declared in the same way he was used to ordering them around the crime scenes they frequented. Sato knew better than to oppose. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself in check. Even though her chest felt lighter, even though she felt safe in the company of Inspector Megure, she wouldn’t allow herself to break down in front of him. She wouldn’t until Takagi was in front of her, safe and sound.
Megure took her silence as the approval that it was. “I didn’t say anything because I needed to maintain plausible deniability, which I can continue to do as long as you both act professional here in the office.”
“Of course, sir.”
“I’ve known you both for years. Especially you, Sato. You won’t remember because you were just a little kid, but you really remind me of your father sometimes.” In other circumstances, Megure’s soft smile would have pulled out one of her own. Not today, though. Today, she didn’t really feel like herself.
An officer that Sato only knew from seeing around the office entered the room carrying a camera attached to a tripod. The man set it in front of the tablet and turned both devices on to record the ten minutes of allowed footage per hour.
Sato knew that if she saw his face on the screen she wouldn’t be leaving this building tonight. So she hurriedly stood up and started her way towards the door, bringing their conversation to a close. Because she needed to get out of the office as soon as possible.
When Megure called out to her one last time, Sato didn’t look back. His knuckles turned white as he clung to the door frame like a lifeline. His next words tied yet another noose around Sato’s throat. It threatened to choke her. “I promise, Sato, that I will do everything in my power to bring him back.”
Sato left the office, a shadow under the cold fluorescent lights inside the eerie silence that permeated it all.