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How it all began, she never knew. The only time she had an inclination of the possibility began when she took the initiative to clean out Masaoka’s cell a few months after Kougami left for good.
A few stacks of DVDs, paperback books, notepads and other things were made into piles on the floor. She considered taking some of them to the small apartment she had at the time. As she rummaged through the deceased veteran’s property, she caught sight of a stack of framed paintings that had been set aside and hidden from the view of visitors. Oil canvases that had been intricately painted with clear dedication by Masaoka, with each subject matter varying from still life to landscape views she had never seen before. And then, she saw one portrait that stood out from the rest. The simple beauty depicted on the canvas spoke louder than words to her, showing her the effort, dedication and love that Masaoka had given in order to bring this particular painting into life. With all things considered, she felt that in the end, Ginoza should be the one to decide which of these things should be discarded.
And so, when the newly appointed enforcer entered his new cell, Akane then dragged him to the pile of things that Masaoka had left behind. Save for the alcohol that he was definitely going to keep, Ginoza who was still recovering from everything that had happened, was at a loss on deciding which of these items he was going to have to throw out.
The melancholy that was reflected in his eyes made her doubt whether it was a good idea to show him the things that his father had left behind.
“Should I leave you alone?”
She asked him.
He shook his head despite the pained expression.
“No, its fine,” he said.
Their relationship was rocky at best; as it was difficult to interact with him when they were still equal in rank and status. It was difficult even as of now in trying to find a common ground between them in order to break the ice. The only times they’ve ever had a proper exchange in conversations was whenever it was work related or whenever there was a case involved.
And so with that said, to Tsunemori, it was the first time for her to see him with his guard down when it came down to handling with his emotions.
He crouched on the ground, inspecting the contents of each pile. With the cardboard box adjacent to him, he placed a few of these items into the box, setting aside the rest to be thrown into the incinerator. She saw the hesitation in his gestures with each discarded item, glancing at him from time to time as she worries how he was coping with everything that’s happened.
“I’m alright,” he said so suddenly. “Something like this… it’s something that can’t be helped.”
“Mm,” she nodded at his words cautiously.
“…Under normal circumstances, normally we’d have drones clear out an enforcer’s belongings once they’re gone…”
She didn’t utter a word as she listened.
“You didn’t have to,” he looked at her in the eye briefly. “You didn’t have to wait for me to clear these things out.”
“But,” she said hesitantly. “He’s your father, isn’t he?”
He winced a little at her words.
“Ah,” he scoffed a little. “So you’ve heard.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. But somewhere down the line I realized what Masaoka-san was to you.”
She lowered her head before him, expecting him to give her a cold shoulder or lash out on her. And yet instead, he said to her;
“Thank you, Tsunemori.”
She raised her head and saw a ghost of a smile upon his face before he turned his head away to resume what he had been doing.
That was a first. Most times, he often winced or gave a sardonic expression whenever he smiled within her view.
Ginoza then turned towards the pile of canvas paintings at the end of the room.
“I don’t think I can take those with me,” he pointed at the pile. “The way things are, I won’t be able to house them within my quarters.”
The young inspector frowned.
“But you haven’t looked at all of them yet.”
“I’ve already seen those paintings before,” he said as he stood up. “Even if I were to keep them, they’ll only be collecting dust in a shelf somewhere.”
“…Are you really sure about that?”
He glanced at her direction briefly, only to sigh in defeat at her worried expression.
“I’ll have a look,” he said as he strode towards the said-pile.
She understood that she was forcing the matter onto him; but she couldn’t ignore the effort that Masaoka made onto each canvas. Especially the one that stood out to her the most.
Ginoza skimmed through the pile, setting aside each one of them. He then turned to the second pile of canvases, removing the cloth that protected them from the dust. He stopped at the sight of that specific pile of the canvases.
“…I haven’t seen these ones before.” He said, his back still turned towards her direction.
She smiled briefly at his words, feigning ignorance at the implication.
He didn’t wait for her response as he rummaged through each of them. He set aside a few of them, this time, he paused and observed every stroke on the canvas; his eyes filled with astonishment and awe. As he set the canvases aside one at a time, he stopped all movement at one particular piece. He held it at its sides and lifted it into his view at an arm’s length.
The painting he held in his hands was an impressionistic styled-work, depicting a woman with long, raven-black hair likened to that of Ginoza’s, carrying an infant in her arms against a golden-hued backdrop. Tsunemori knew it was that specific canvas he held in his hands, for she too was in awe at the sight of its beauty.
“Tsunemori,” he said. “Where did you find these-?”
He turned his head towards her direction and saw that she was no longer there. He turned back towards the painting, observing every stroke that defined the subject matter.
Tsunemori disappeared into the back room kitchen, giving him some space. When she realized Masaoka was in fact Ginoza’s father, everything connected in the way that Ginoza had behaved, along with the way Masaoka easily complied to his son’s orders. Their estranged relationship made it difficult for Ginoza to look at his father in the eye. Tsunemori felt that it would be a shame for the former inspector to miss that specific canvas; especially when the subject matter projected Masaoka’s love for his family after all these years. She felt that Ginoza ought to know about it.
By the time she came back to the main room, she caught a glimpse of Ginoza’s glistened eyes, a sad smile crept up upon his lips; his hands still clutching at the sides of the canvas board.
“Shall we take a break?”
Her question seemingly snapped him out of his senses.
“…Oh.” He turned his head to her direction. “Yes.”
The two of them sat on top of the stack of filled boxes. She handed him a bottle as she drank from hers.
The silence that hung in the air was surprisingly less stifling than during the first few months when she had first begun. During the events of the Makishima case, the numerous overtimes and emervency meetings seemed to have made it easier to accustom to each other's presence. However, it didn't stop the occasional moments of tension between them.
"Kougami and Kagari's quarters were already cleared out?" He asked.
"Yes," she answered. "I have contacted with their families regarding their personal belongings since they didn't leave a word regarding on what to do with their belongings."
"I see."
Just the mere mention of their names brought tension into the room.
"Are you alright?" he suddenly asked, a hint of hesitation could be heard in the crack in his voice.
She nodded silently in reply.
She lost her friend; he lost his father; they both lost three good enforcers. Somehow coping with that reality before her led her to rationalize the situation, that somehow, the people they knew and loved who left them behind has some meaning to them in their life.
And then, she realizes; that this was going to be her life from now on. And that there will come a point where either an enforcer dies or that a colleague might die under her wing. Just the mere thought of losing another member of what was left of Division 1 was enough to make her crumple the hem of her skirt with her clawing fists.
No more. she thought.
She made her vow before Sibyl to protect the spirit of the law and not under the name of the faux goddess whose fate was to die out somewhere, someday in a future that no one can predict. Upon seeing his forlorn expression, Tsunemori silently vowed that no matter at what cost, she would make sure that no enforcer nor fellow inspector would receive the same fate as they did.
She turned to him, acknowledging that he's been through the same thing before. Being left behind; being made to face that growing reality that every enforcer under his watch were fated to become cannon fodder in every case they've handled. The questions that crept in the back of her mind threatened to speak for itself of how he coped with the losses of previous enforcers before Kougami, Kagari and Kunizuka in his rookie years.
She then decided it wasn't worth asking, as she could see that even he still was trying to cope with the losses after all these years. And that in the end, she was thankful that he decided to come back as an enforcer despite his low regard towards them.
"Ginoza-san," she said, looking at him in the eye. "Thank you."
His face made a puzzled look.
"For coming back," she quickly added.
With that said, she stood up and stretched her limbs as she resumed arranging the stacks on the floor.
"Tsunemori."
The young inspector turned around.
"I hope that we'll be counting on each other from here on and in the near future." he said.
This time, she saw his smile directly towards her direction. A rarity that she never thought she would have encountered, especially if it was directed towards her. Seeing that smile prolong brought her to smile back at him instinctively.