Archive of Our Own

The phone rang at 2:17 a.m.

Zoro stared at the glowing screen from the darkness of his bedroom. For three full seconds, he didn't move. The ringing continued, obnoxiously bright in the quiet room, vibrating against the wooden surface of the nightstand. The sound seemed louder than it had any right to be at this hour, cutting straight through the heavy silence of the apartment. Whoever was calling at two seventeen in the morning was either an idiot— or had a very good reason. The name on the screen finally registered.

Ace.

Zoro closed his eyes. Of course. He reached for the phone without bothering to sit up and answered on the fourth ring.

“What?”

There was a brief pause. Then Ace said, “Got a body.”

Zoro stared at the ceiling. He considered hanging up. “I’m sleeping.”

“I figured.”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“Because apparently people tend to die when you're off duty.”

“That sounds like a them problem.”

Ace sighed on the other end. “Federal judge.”

Zoro's eyes opened. “Where?”

“Found dead in his office. Twenty-third floor. Locked room. No obvious weapon. First responding officers haven't found any sign of forced entry.”

Zoro pushed himself upright. The sheets slid down his waist as he reached for the shirt hanging over the back of the chair.

“Cause of death?”

“Unknown.”

“Who found him?”

“His secretary. He came in early and couldn't get the door open. Security had to override the lock.”

Zoro stood, already pulling the shirt over his head. “Any witnesses?”

“Not yet.”

“What does Captain want?”

“Major Crimes on scene.”

That was enough. Zoro reached for his pants. “Send me the address.”

“Already did.”

His phone vibrated almost immediately. Zoro glanced down. A message from Ace appeared beneath the location.

And bring your husband.

Zoro stopped. He stared at it. Then typed back.

He's not on call.

The reply came almost instantly.

He's Sanji. He'll come.

Zoro snorted. He slipped the phone into his pocket. “That wasn't what I said.”

Ace called again.

Zoro answered with a tired, “What now?”

“Goodnight, Zoro.”

The line went dead. Zoro stared at the phone. “Damn bastard.”

Beside him, the other half of the bed shifted. The mattress dipped slightly. A sleepy voice came from the darkness.

“Who was that?”

Zoro turned his head. Sanji was barely awake, one hand still tucked beneath the pillow. His blond hair was a complete mess, strands falling across his forehead and cheek. In the faint light spilling through the curtains, his eyes were only half-open.

“Ace.”

“At two in the morning?”

“Body.”

That single word did what the ringing phone hadn't. Sanji's eyes opened fully. He pushed himself upright, blinking away the remnants of sleep.

“Where?”

“Federal building. Twenty-third floor.”

“Federal judge?”

“Yeah.”

Sanji rubbed a hand over his face. “Cause?”

“Unknown.”

“Any indication of chemical exposure?”

“Not in the initial call.”

“Pheromones?”

Zoro paused. “Nothing mentioned.”

Sanji hummed quietly. That was apparently enough information. He pushed the blanket aside and sat on the edge of the bed.

Zoro watched him for a moment. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly Sanji could switch gears. One second, he had looked like a man who could sleep through an earthquake. The next, his mind was already at the crime scene. Forensic specialist. Omega. Husband. All three versions of him seemed to exist simultaneously, even at two in the morning.

“You go,” Sanji said, reaching toward the nightstand for his glasses. “I'll follow.”

Zoro looked at him. “You're not dressed.”

Sanji put his glasses on. “I noticed.”

“It's two in the morning.”

“I noticed that too.”

“You've got work tomorrow.”

Sanji turned his head slowly. “So do you.”

“I'm the detective.”

“And I'm the one who tells you when your brilliant theories are bullshit.”

Zoro stared at him. Sanji stared back. A beat passed.

“Fair.”

Sanji got to his feet. He took two steps toward the bathroom before stopping. His hand rose briefly to his mouth.

Zoro noticed. His expression changed. “You okay?”

Sanji lowered his hand. “Fine.”

“You look pale.”

Sanji glanced at him. “It's two in the morning.”

“You always look pale.”

“Then why are you asking?”

Zoro shrugged.

Sanji gave him a tired glare. “Go catch your murderer.”

He walked toward the bathroom. Zoro watched him disappear through the doorway. A moment later, the bathroom light flicked on.

“Try not to get lost,” Sanji called.

Zoro grabbed his badge from the dresser. “I'm not the one who gets lost.”

Zoro stopped halfway to the bedroom door. Sanji appeared in the bathroom doorway, tying his hair back with one hand. His expression was still sleepy, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Says who took three turns back to a crime scene."

Zoro's mouth twitched. “See you there, Curl.”

“Mm.”

Zoro reached for his gun. Then he paused. He looked back once. Sanji was still standing there, fingers working the elastic around his hair. Their eyes met.

“Don't rush,” Zoro said.

Sanji blinked. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then Sanji's expression softened. Just slightly.

“I won't.”

Zoro nodded.

He left.

Twenty minutes later, the city was still mostly asleep. The streets were nearly empty, washed silver beneath the streetlights. Traffic signals changed for no one at the intersections. A few convenience stores remained open. Their fluorescent signs glowing against the dark. Zoro drove through the sleeping city with one hand on the steering wheel. The address Ace had sent was displayed on the navigation screen. He ignored it after the third turn. He knew where he was going.

Mostly.

The federal building appeared ahead of him, its glass facade rising out of the darkness. Several police cruisers were already lined along the curb. Their lights weren't flashing anymore, but the red and blue reflections still washed intermittently across the wet pavement. The building itself looked almost asleep.

Almost.

Several windows on the upper floors remained illuminated, isolated rectangles of pale light against the black sky.

Zoro parked, stepped out, and immediately caught sight of Ace standing behind the barricade. Ace lifted a hand.

“You're late.”

Zoro checked his watch. “It's been twenty-three minutes.”

“Exactly.”

“You called me at two seventeen.”

“And?”

“And fuck you.”

Ace grinned. “Good to see you too.”

Zoro ducked beneath the yellow tape.

The first thing he noticed was the cold. Federal buildings always seemed colder at night. The second thing he noticed was the silence. Even with officers moving through the lobby and security personnel speaking quietly near the elevators, the building felt strangely hollow.

“What do we have?” Zoro asked.

“Victim's name is Iceburg. Fifty-something. Chief Justice of the Water 7 Federal Court. Body's upstairs.”

“Who found him?”

“Secretary. He says he came in around one forty-five to prepare for an early hearing.”

“And the door?”

“Locked from the inside.”

“Windows?”

“Sealed. Security checked them.”

“Any cameras?”

Ace's expression shifted. “Yeah.”

Zoro looked at him. “And?”

“We'll talk about that upstairs.”

Zoro narrowed his eyes. Ace only shrugged. They stepped into the elevator. The doors closed. For several seconds, neither spoke. The elevator began climbing. Twenty-three floors. Zoro watched the numbers change above the door.

Then Ace spoke. “There's something you should know.”

Zoro glanced sideways.

“The victim's office smells like an Alpha.”

That got his attention. Zoro's gaze sharpened. “How strong?”

“Strong enough that the first officer thought the victim had been attacked by one.”

“Thought?”

“Yeah.” Ace leaned back against the elevator wall. “The victim wasn't visibly injured. No blood. No obvious bite marks. Nothing that immediately suggested an assault.”

Zoro frowned. “So why Alpha?”

“Because the scent is all over the office.”

“From the victim?”

“That's the problem.”

The elevator continued upward. Zoro looked at the numbers again.

Ace glanced sideways. “You know, most detectives would investigate first.”

“Most detectives aren't married to their forensic examiner.”

Ace laughed under his breath. “Fair enough.”

The elevator climbed higher. The fluorescent light above them flickered once. Then the elevator slowed. The doors opened. The smell hit Zoro before the crime scene did, sharp and heavy. Unmistakably Alpha. It clung to the corridor, dense enough that Zoro could almost feel it against the back of his throat. He stepped out. Ace followed. The twenty-third floor was dimly lit. Several officers stood farther down the corridor, speaking in low voices. Yellow crime-scene tape stretched across the entrance to a large office.

Zoro took another breath. The Alpha scent was strongest near the office. Fresh enough to still linger. But underneath it— there was something else. Something faint. Something almost sweet. But there was something about it that bothered him. Something soft beneath the sharpness of the Alpha pheromones. Something that didn't belong.

Zoro stepped closer to the tape.

Ace looked at him skeptically. “That's your something face.”

“I don't have a something face.”

“You absolutely do.”

Zoro ignored him. He pulled the nitrile gloves over his hands and snapped the cuffs into place. Ace did the same beside him. Plastic shoe covers went over their boots next. Then protective sleeves.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

They stepped past the threshold. Zoro stopped. Not because he'd seen the body. Because the first rule of a crime scene was simple: Look before you touch.

The office was large enough that the body wasn't immediately the first thing his eyes found. A desk sat near the windows. A leather chair had been pushed several inches away from it. Papers were scattered across the carpet, but not randomly. One drawer was open. A glass lay broken near the wall.

Then Zoro looked down.

The victim was lying on his back beside the desk. One leg was extended toward the doorway, the other bent slightly at the knee. His right arm rested across his abdomen. His left arm had fallen outward, fingers partially curled against the carpet. His jacket was open. His tie was loose. There was no obvious weapon. No obvious wound. No obvious blood.

Zoro crouched—but didn't touch him.

The position bothered him. The chair was too far away. The body was too close to the desk. And the broken glass was wrong.

He looked at Ace. “Don't move anything.”

Ace gave him an offended look. “Do I look stupid?”

“Sometimes.”

“Fuck you.”

Zoro ignored him and looked back at the body. The victim's left hand was extended toward the broken glass. But the glass shards were concentrated farther away. He hadn't fallen through it. Something had happened before the body hit the floor. Then the smell reached him again. Strong and Sharp. Alpha pheromone. Zoro's eyes narrowed.

“You smell that, right?” Ace's expression changed.

Neither of them moved. The pheromone was everywhere. Too strong. Almost deliberate.

Zoro slowly straightened. “Don't touch the body.”

Ace glanced at him. “Wasn't planning to.”

“Call the scene supervisor.”

“Why?”

Zoro looked toward the office. “Because I don't think we're dealing with a normal exposure.”

Ace's eyes followed his. “You think someone did this?”

“I think someone wanted us to think someone did this.”

Ace stared at him for a second. Then he pulled out his phone.

“I'm calling Sanji.”

Zoro looked back at the body. The victim's face was calm. Almost peaceful. But the room smelled like an Alpha had spent hours breathing inside it. And Zoro had the distinct feeling that the scent was telling him exactly what someone wanted him to believe.

-----

Ace had barely finished the call when the elevator at the end of the corridor chimed. Zoro looked up. Three people stepped out. Sanji came first. He had changed out of his pajamas, obviously, though not into anything that suggested he had spent much time deciding what to wear. Dark trousers. A pale shirt beneath a black forensic jacket. His badge was clipped neatly to his chest, and his blond hair was tied back. He carried a hard black equipment case in one hand. Nami followed him with a tablet tucked beneath her arm and another case hanging from her shoulder. Usopp came last, carrying what looked like half the contents of a photography lab.

Ace glanced at Zoro. “Your husband works fast.”

Zoro ignored him. Sanji walked toward the crime-scene tape, his eyes moving over the corridor before settling on Zoro.

Zoro nodded toward the office. “Careful. The pheromone concentration is high.”

Sanji's expression sharpened. “How high?”

“Strong enough to reach the corridor.”

Sanji opened his equipment case and pulled out a compact respirator. It looked like a standard forensic mask at first glance, except for the small cartridge fitted along its side. He checked the seal, then secured it over his nose and mouth. Nami and Usopp exchanged a glance before reaching for theirs.

Zoro frowned. “You two don't need those.”

Nami adjusted the strap around the back of her head. “We know.”

Usopp was already checking his camera through the mask. “But we're not taking chances.”

“You're Betas.”

“And we're working around an unusually high concentration of Alpha pheromones,” Nami said. “The neutralizer isn't only for Omegas.”

Sanji glanced at them. “Occupational exposure protocol.”

Usopp nodded solemnly. “See? Safety.”

Zoro looked at the three of them. “You all sound like Sanji.”

“That's because he's usually right,” Nami said.

Sanji gave Zoro a pointed look over the edge of the respirator. “Usually?”

Zoro sighed. “Go to work.”

Sanji's eyes narrowed in amusement before he turned toward the crime scene. He stopped briefly at the entrance and checked the small indicator on his respirator. It blinked once. His gaze moved toward the office. Then he stepped beneath the tape. The heavy Alpha scent was immediately stronger inside. Sanji didn't comment. He simply reached for his environmental sampler.

Sanji looked at Ace. “How about the victim?”

“Male Alpha," Ace answered.

“Any obvious trauma?”

“No.”

“Chemical exposure?”

“Unknown.”

“Locked room?”

“From the inside.”

Sanji nodded once. Then he looked at Zoro. “Who touched what?”

“Nothing.”

Sanji's eyes narrowed slightly. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Good.”

Usopp shifted the equipment case in his arms. “Can someone please explain why we're having this conversation in a hallway at three in the morning?”

Nami didn't look up from her tablet. “Because you volunteered.”

“I was asleep.”

“You answered your phone.”

“I thought it was an emergency.”

“It was.”

Usopp stared at her. “This is why I screen calls.”

Sanji sighed. “Both of you. Focus.”

Usopp immediately straightened. “Yes, sir.”

Zoro looked at him.

Usopp pointed at himself. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

“You're wearing two cameras.”

“They're different cameras.”

“Why?”

“One is for standard documentation.”

“And the other?”

“Low-light.”

Zoro nodded. “Useful.”

Usopp looked suspiciously pleased. “I know.”

Nami cleared her throat. “Can we go inside before the murderer comes back to finish the job?”

Zoro stepped aside. Sanji stopped at the threshold. He didn't cross immediately. Instead, he looked through the doorway. Zoro knew that pause. Sanji did it every time. He took in the entire room before putting a single foot inside. His gaze moved from the desk to the windows. The chair. The broken glass. The body. Then the floor. Then the door. Only after that did he reach into his case.

“Everyone stays behind me until I've cleared the entry path.”

Ace raised a hand. “Already been inside.”

Sanji looked at him. “I know.”

Ace blinked. “How?”

“You're wearing your shoe covers incorrectly.”

Ace looked down.

Sanji sighed. “Exactly.”

Zoro looked. The plastic cover on Ace's left boot had slipped slightly beneath the heel.

Ace stared at it. “How did you even see that?”

Sanji stepped past him. “Because unlike you, I know what I'm looking at.”

Ace muttered something under his breath. Zoro followed Sanji into the room. The smell was stronger now. Much stronger. Zoro watched Sanji's shoulders tense almost imperceptibly. For a moment, Sanji stood still. His eyes narrowed. Then he reached into his case and pulled out a small handheld device.

“What is that?” Ace asked.

“Environmental sampler.”

“Looks expensive.”

“It is.”

“Can I touch it?”

“No.”

“Wasn't going to.”

“You were thinking about it.”

Usopp snorted. Sanji ignored him. He switched the device on. A faint electronic tone filled the room. The number on the display climbed.

Sanji's expression hardened. “That's high.”

Zoro looked at the screen. “How high?”

“High enough that I want everyone to stop talking.”

Ace immediately shut up. Usopp looked at Nami. Nami pointed at him.

“Don't.”

Usopp closed his mouth.

Sanji moved slowly around the room, holding the sampler at different heights. The reading changed. Near the desk, it climbed. Near the windows, it dropped. Near the body— it spiked. Sanji stopped.

Zoro watched him. “Same profile?”

Sanji didn't answer immediately. He crouched beside the victim without touching him. “Preliminary.”

“What?”

“It's definitely Alpha.”

Zoro folded his arms. “The victim is Alpha.”

Sanji glanced up. “Not his.”

The room went quiet.

Ace's eyebrows rose. “You sure?”

Sanji gave him a look. “I haven't been doing this for ten years to confuse an Alpha's pheromone profile with his own.”

Ace raised both hands. “Just asking.”

Sanji returned his attention to the body. Zoro watched him work. There was a particular stillness to Sanji when he concentrated. His movements became precise, almost economical. He didn't rush. He didn't react to the body in the way inexperienced people sometimes did. Zoro had seen him work hundreds of scenes. He had seen him examine bodies covered in blood. Bodies burned beyond recognition. Bodies that had been underwater for days. Bodies that had been left in places no human being should have been left. Sanji never flinched. But tonight— he paused. Just for a second. His face tightened. Then his hand came up toward his mouth.

Zoro's eyes narrowed. “Curls?”

Sanji lowered his hand. “I'm fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You're pale.”

“I'm always pale.”

“That wasn't the point.”

Sanji looked at him. “Do your job, detective.”

Zoro held his gaze for another second. Then he let it go. For now.

Sanji turned back toward Nami. “Start environmental sampling. Separate zones.”

Nami nodded. “Pheromone?”

“Yes. And volatile compounds.”

“Already on it.”

“Usopp, full photographic sweep before anything gets moved.”

Usopp lifted his camera. “Got it.”

“Door first.”

Usopp disappeared toward the doorway. Zoro watched Sanji move toward the desk. He stopped beside the broken glass.

“Don't touch that,” Zoro said.

Sanji looked at him. “I wasn't going to.”

“You were looking at it.”

“I have eyes.”

“So do I.”

Sanji gave him a long, unimpressed look. “Sometimes I wonder how you became a detective.”

Ace coughed to hide a laugh. Zoro ignored both of them. Sanji crouched near the glass.

“Where did you find the body?”

Zoro pointed. “Here.”

“And the glass?”

“Over there.”

Sanji looked between the two. “Interesting.”

“What?”

He didn't answer. Instead, he looked at the victim's left hand. Then at the glass. Then back at the body.

“You noticed it too,” Zoro said.

Sanji glanced up. “The hand?”

“Yeah.”

“The fall doesn't match.”

Zoro's mouth twitched. “That's what I thought.”

Sanji nodded. Neither of them said anything for a moment. They didn't need to. They had done this too many times. Zoro looked at the room. Sanji looked at the evidence. Somewhere between the two, the truth usually had nowhere left to hide.

Nami approached with a sealed sample container. “Sanji.”

He turned. “Yes?”

“I've got something.” She held up the container without stepping closer.

“Pheromone residue from the chair.”

Sanji's eyes narrowed. “Same profile?”

Nami checked her tablet. “Yes.”

“Compare it with the sample from the victim.”

“Already running.”

Usopp called from the doorway. “Got something weird here.”

Zoro looked over. “What?”

Usopp lowered the camera. “There are marks around the lock.”

Zoro immediately walked toward him. Sanji stood. Zoro stopped beside Usopp. The lock looked intact. No scratches. No forced entry. But around the inner edge of the frame—there was a faint smear. Almost invisible.

Zoro leaned closer. “What's that?”

Usopp shook his head. “Don't know.”

Sanji came up beside them. He didn't touch the door. He only looked. Then his expression changed. “That's not damage.”

Zoro glanced at him. “What is it?”

Sanji crouched slightly. “Transfer.”

Zoro looked back at the lock. “Pheromone?”

“Possibly.”

Nami approached from behind. “Want a sample?”

Sanji nodded. “Carefully.”

Nami began preparing the collection kit. Zoro stepped back. He looked around the room again. The smell. The locked door. The body. The broken glass. The pheromone residue. Everything seemed to point toward an Alpha. Everything except the fact that none of it quite made sense. Sanji stood beside him.

Quietly, he said, “Someone wanted this room to smell like an Alpha had been here.”

Zoro looked at him. “You think it's planted?”

“I think it's too much.”

“Too much?”

Sanji nodded toward the room. “Natural pheromone exposure doesn't usually distribute like this.”

Zoro looked around. “How does it distribute?”

Sanji's gaze moved toward the body. “Messier.”

That word stayed with Zoro. Messier. He looked at the room again. The scent was strong. Consistent. Almost deliberate. Not like something a person had simply left behind. Like something someone had put there.

Zoro glanced at Sanji. “You'll know for sure after the lab?”

Sanji met his eyes. “Yes.” A beat. Then, quieter, “And I don't think we're going to like the answer.”

Zoro looked toward the body. Neither did he.

_____

Zoro remained near the doorway for another few minutes. He watched Sanji work. There was something almost unnerving about how quickly the room seemed to organize itself around him. Evidence bags appeared where they were needed. Samples were labeled and sealed. Nami moved from one section of the office to another without needing to be asked twice, while Usopp's camera continued its steady clicking near the desk. Sanji stood beside the victim, studying the body without touching it. His attention moved between the corpse and the instruments in his hands, occasionally pausing while he wrote something down. His expression had gone still in the way Zoro knew well. Sanji was thinking. Hard. Zoro had seen that look often enough to know better than to interrupt him. Whatever he was seeing, he wasn't ready to talk about it yet. The Alpha pheromone still hung heavily in the room. It had become almost oppressive now. Not because of its strength. Because something about it felt wrong.

“Detective Roronoa?”

Zoro turned. A uniformed officer stood just outside the office.

“Yeah?”

“Officer Kaku is ready. He's been waiting downstairs with one of the security officers.”

“The secretary?”

The officer nodded. Zoro glanced back inside. Sanji was still beside the body. Nami was sealing another sample, and Usopp had moved closer to the desk.

Zoro crossed the room. “Kaku's ready.”

Sanji glanced toward the clock before looking back at him. “Go.”

“You staying?”

“Until they take him.”

Zoro nodded. He was halfway to the door when Sanji's gaze followed him. “You got everything?”

“Not yet.”

“Then don't leave before we finish documenting the room.”

“I won't.” Sanji studied him for another second. “You're going to question him about the timeline.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.”

Zoro frowned. “Then why say it?”

Sanji's eyes narrowed. “Because you forget things.”

“I don't.”

“You forgot our wedding anniversary once.”

A strangled noise came from somewhere behind them. Zoro turned. Usopp was suddenly very interested in his camera. Nami didn't even bother looking up.

Sanji's shoulders moved with a suppressed laugh.

Zoro gave him a look. “That was one time.”

“Exactly.” He picked up another evidence bag. “Go.”

Zoro stared at him for another beat before finally turning toward the door.

“Zoro.”

He looked back.

Sanji was watching him with that faintly amused expression. “Don't let Ace talk you into arresting someone stupid.”

From the hallway came Ace's voice. “I heard that.”

Sanji's eyes curved, without looking at him. “Good.”

Zoro shook his head and walked out. Ace fell into step beside him almost immediately. They reached the elevator, and for several seconds Ace said nothing. Zoro knew better. The silence was suspicious. The elevator doors closed.

Then Ace glanced sideways. “So…”

Zoro pressed the button for the lobby. “What?”

“You really forgot your wedding anniversary?”

Zoro's jaw tightened. “Not completely.”

Ace stared at him. “That's somehow worse.”

“I remembered the next day.”

Ace burst out laughing.

Zoro kept his eyes on the glowing floor numbers. “It was a busy week.”

“I'm sure Sanji found that incredibly romantic.”

“He got over it.”

“That isn't the point.”

Zoro shrugged. “He married me anyway.”

Ace's laughter faltered. He looked at Zoro for a moment, then shook his head. “Somehow, that might be the most Zoro thing you've ever said.”

The elevator descended.

Ace was quiet for another few seconds before curiosity got the better of him. “So what did you do?”

“I apologized.”

Ace turned toward him. “You just apologized?”

“What else?”

“I don't know. Flowers? Dinner? Jewelry? A grand romantic gesture?”

Zoro finally looked at him. “Why?”

Ace stared. “Because you forgot your anniversary.”

Zoro's expression remained completely blank. “He didn't ask for anything.”

Ace rubbed a hand over his face. “Sanji deserves hazard pay.”

The elevator doors opened. Zoro stepped out. Ace followed, still shaking his head.

“You know, I'm starting to understand why you two work.”

Zoro glanced at him. “How?”

“Sanji remembers everything. You forget everything.”

“I don't forget everything.”

“You forgot your anniversary.”

“That was one thing.”

“You got lost on the way to your own wedding.”

Zoro stopped. Ace nearly walked into his back.

“The venue had two entrances.”

Ace stared at him. “That's your defense?”

“It was badly marked.”

“Of course it was.”

Zoro started walking again.

Ace followed, laughing under his breath. “And somehow Sanji still married you.”

Zoro glanced over his shoulder. “Exactly.”

Ace opened his mouth. Then closed it. For once, he had nothing to say. They reached the security desk.

Zoro stopped. “Kaku?”

The officer pointed toward a small interview room. “Inside.”

Zoro nodded.

Ace opened the door for him. “After you.”

Zoro stepped inside. Ace followed, still wearing the faintest grin.

“Try not to forget what we're here for.”

Zoro gave him a flat look. “I remember.”

“Good.”

The door closed behind them. Inside, Kaku sat waiting. His hands were clasped tightly on the table, glasses slightly crooked. His expression caught somewhere between exhaustion and anxiety. Zoro's amusement disappeared. The case was waiting.

The interview room was small, plain, and aggressively fluorescent. Kaku sat on one side of the table, looking exactly like someone who had been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night and informed that the federal judge he worked for had just been found dead. His glasses sat slightly crooked on his nose. His hands were clasped tightly in front of him. Across the table, Zoro opened his notebook. Ace sat beside him, pen already poised over the page.

“You’re Judge Iceburg’s administrative secretary?”

“Yes. I’ve worked directly for him for almost six years.”

“Know his schedule?”

“Most of it. His hearings, meetings, the people he expects to see. Some of his personal appointments too, though obviously not everything.”

Zoro nodded. “Start with tonight. You arrived at one forty-five?”

Kaku adjusted his glasses. “Mr. Iceburg had an early hearing, so he asked me to come in ahead of schedule and prepare some files before six. I went straight upstairs when I arrived.”

“Anyone else on the floor?”

“Security. Two officers near the elevators.” Kaku hesitated. “And Mr. Lucci. I saw him earlier, around eleven, near Judge Iceburg’s office.”

Zoro's pen paused. “Rob Lucci?”

Kaku nodded. “He went inside the office. Stayed maybe fifteen minutes. I saw him leave afterward. Nothing seemed unusual.”

“Nothing?”

Kaku considered it. “He didn't look angry or upset. Threatening, perhaps, but…” He gave a helpless shrug. “Mr. Lucci always looks threatening.”

Ace made a small sound that was suspiciously close to a laugh. Zoro shot him a glance. Ace lowered his eyes to his notebook.

“Fair point,” Zoro said. He continued writing. “What happened after Lucci left?”

“I saw Ms. Kalifa around eleven-thirty, maybe a little later. She was outside the office and went in. She stayed perhaps ten or fifteen minutes before leaving. Iceburg-san hadn't mentioned that she was coming, and she didn't tell me why she was there.”

“Anyone after her?”

“Not that I saw.”

Zoro looked up.

Kaku caught the look. “I went downstairs around midnight,” he admitted. “So I can't say no one else came after that.”

“When you returned at one forty-five, the office was locked?”

Kaku nodded. “From the inside. I tried the handle and knocked, but there was no answer. I called Mr. Iceburg's phone too. Nothing.”

“So you called security.”

“Yes. They used the override. One of the officers entered first, checked the room, and called the police.”

“You didn't enter or touch anything?”

“No. Neither did anyone else before the police arrived.”

Zoro made a note. “Last time you saw Iceburg alive?”

Kaku's answer came more slowly. “About eleven forty. I was in his office before I went downstairs."

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes. Ms. Kalifa had already left, and Mr. Lucci was gone by then.”

Zoro leaned back slightly. “What was his mood?”

“Not frightened. Not angry. Annoyed, mostly.”

“Why?”

“He was reading something. A file, I think. I couldn't see the cover.” Kaku paused. “Actually, he said he was expecting someone.”

Ace looked up. “Who?”

“I don't know. I asked.” Kaku's mouth tightened. “He told me it wasn't my business.”

Zoro's pen moved again. “Did he say when they were coming?”

“No. He didn't give me any instructions either. He didn't seem particularly concerned.”

Zoro closed his notebook for a moment. “Anything else?”

Kaku frowned. “Maybe.” He shifted in his chair. “I saw Blueno around eleven, near the service corridor. He said there was a problem with one of the access panels and was checking it.”

“Did he enter the judge's office?”

“No. I didn't see him go in or out.”

“Then why mention him?”

“Because you asked who else was around.”

Zoro studied him. “Did he seem unusual? In a hurry?”

“No. Nothing about him seemed unusual.”

For a moment, the room went quiet except for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights.

Zoro closed his notebook. “That'll be all for now.”

Kaku's shoulders loosened. He stood.

Then Zoro added, “One more thing. If you remember anything else, no matter how insignificant, call us.”

Kaku nodded. “I will.”

He left and the door clicked shut behind him.

Ace leaned back in his chair. “So.”

Zoro looked at him. “Lucci. Kalifa. Blueno.”

“Maybe.”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “Two were inside the office. One wasn't."

“According to Kaku.”

“You think he's lying?”

“No.”

“Then what's bothering you?”

Zoro stared at the closed door. His mind went back to the crime scene—the locked office, the broken glass, the body beside the desk. And the scent. That overwhelming Alpha pheromone still seemed to cling to the back of his throat. Three names. Lucci. Kalifa. Blueno. Two had entered Iceburg's office before his death. One had been somewhere nearby, close enough to know there had been a problem with the building's access system. And Iceburg had told Kaku he was expecting someone. Someone Kaku hadn't seen.

“Nothing,” Zoro said.

Ace stared at him. “You're doing the thing again.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you say ‘nothing’ because you think it's something.”

Zoro stood and tucked the notebook into his jacket. “Let's check the cameras.”

Ace followed him toward the door. “You're terrible at explaining your thoughts.”

“I don't explain them.”

“Exactly.”

_____

By the time Zoro and Ace reached the security office, the sky outside had begun to lighten. Barely. The windows were still mostly black, reflecting the pale glow of monitors and the silhouettes of the people moving around the room. Somewhere beyond the glass, however, the horizon had begun to lose its darkness. Morning was coming, slow and indifferent, as if there weren't a dead federal judge upstairs and half a dozen people whose names had already found their way into a murder investigation.

Zoro glanced at his watch. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten. Or how early. Ace seemed to notice at the same time. He dragged one of the chairs toward the security console with his foot and dropped into it, rubbing both hands over his face before leaning toward the monitor.

“Let's see what we've got.”

The security officer pulled up the building's surveillance system. Zoro remained standing behind them, arms folded loosely across his chest. His eyes moved over the bank of monitors before settling on the one showing the twenty-third-floor elevator lobby.

“Start around eleven twenty.”

The officer adjusted the timestamp. The footage jumped backward.

11:27 p.m.

Kalifa stepped out of the elevator. She carried a slim folder against her chest, her expression unreadable even in the grainy black-and-white footage. She paused long enough to adjust the papers inside it, then walked down the corridor and disappeared beyond the camera's range.

Zoro watched the direction she went. “That's Iceburg's office.”

The officer nodded. Three minutes later, another figure appeared. Rob Lucci. He moved at an unhurried pace, both hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. There was nothing particularly suspicious about the way he walked. No hesitation, no attempt to conceal himself. He simply crossed the corridor and vanished in the same direction Kalifa had taken.

Ace leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “That's him.”

Zoro nodded without taking his eyes from the screen.

The timestamp continued.

11:43.

Lucci returned. He emerged from the same corridor alone, his pace unchanged. He didn't look around. He didn't stop to speak to anyone. He simply crossed the lobby, pressed the elevator button, and waited. When the doors opened, he stepped inside. They closed behind him.

Zoro's gaze remained fixed on the empty corridor after he disappeared. “Next camera.”

The security officer switched views. A different angle showed the corridor outside Iceburg's office. At 11:51, Kalifa appeared. She walked out from the direction of the judge's office, still carrying the folder. She paused briefly near the intersection, glanced toward the elevators, and continued. At 11:53, she entered the elevator. The doors slid shut.

Zoro shifted his weight. “So she leaves two minutes after eleven fifty-one.”

Ace made a note. The officer continued the footage. Nothing happened. The corridor remained empty.

Midnight.

12:15.

12:30.

12:45.

Still nothing.

Zoro's eyes began to feel dry, but he didn't blink for long. The footage rolled forward in silence, broken only by the faint clicking of the security officer's keyboard and the occasional hum of the equipment.

Then, at 1:42, the elevator doors opened again. Kaku stepped out. He looked smaller somehow than he had in the interview room, shoulders slightly hunched beneath his coat. He checked his watch, adjusted his glasses, and walked toward the corridor.

Zoro's eyes narrowed. “That’s our witness.”

Ace nodded. The footage continued until Kaku disappeared from view. Zoro remained still. Something was bothering him. He didn't know what yet. He leaned closer to the monitor and rewound the footage.

“Go back.”

The officer glanced at him. “To Kaku?”

“Earlier.”

The footage moved backward. Zoro waited until Lucci appeared again.

“After he leaves.”

The officer played it. Lucci walked toward the elevator. The camera tracked him until the doors swallowed him from view. Then the corridor was empty. Zoro watched for several seconds after the elevator doors closed. Nothing. He looked toward the security officer.

“That's all the coverage?”

“For the main corridor, yes.”

Zoro's eyes moved across the bank of monitors. Then stopped. One of the smaller screens showed a narrow hallway lined with concrete walls and exposed pipes.

“What’s that?”

The officer followed his gaze. “Service corridor.”

Zoro stepped closer to the console. “Does it connect to this floor?”

“Yes. Maintenance access.”

“Then why isn't it on the main system?”

“It is.”

The officer switched to the corresponding feed. The image enlarged. The corridor was empty. It looked older than the rest of the building, its walls unfinished and its lighting harsher. The camera sat high in one corner, angled toward an intersection. Zoro studied the frame. Something about it bothered him.

“Show me the entrance.”

The officer rewound the footage. Nothing. He fast-forwarded. Still nothing.

Zoro's eyes narrowed. “Stop.”

The footage froze. He pointed toward the far end of the corridor. The camera covered most of the passage, but not all of it. A section between two concrete walls disappeared beyond the edge of the frame. A blind spot. Ace leaned closer. He rested one hand against the edge of the desk as he studied the screen.

“That doesn't show the whole hallway.”

“No,” the officer said. “It doesn't.”

“Why?”

The officer shifted in his chair. “Old building. The camera was installed before the corridor was renovated. The layout changed afterward, but they never moved the camera.”

Zoro stared at the blind spot. “How much of the corridor is missing?”

“About ten feet. Maybe twelve.”

“Enough for someone to stand there unseen?”

The officer nodded. “Easily.”

Zoro's jaw tightened. He looked back at the main footage. The twenty-third-floor corridor. Lucci. Kalifa. Kaku. Three people accounted for. But not Blueno. He remembered Kaku's earlier answer.

I saw Blueno around eleven, near the service corridor.

At the time, it had sounded almost incidental. A detail Kaku had mentioned simply because he'd been asked who else was around. Now Zoro wasn't so sure. He looked at the timestamp again. Lucci had left at 11:43. Kalifa hadn't appeared again until 11:51. Eight minutes. Eight minutes was more than enough time to disappear into a blind spot. Zoro glanced at Ace. Neither of them spoke. They didn't need to. Ace reached for the keyboard and pulled up the access logs.

“Let's see who used the service corridor tonight.”

The security officer entered the request. A list appeared. Zoro leaned over his shoulder. Maintenance personnel. Security. Authorized staff. Then one name caught his attention. Blueno.

Zoro's finger tapped once against the edge of the desk. “Open that entry.”

The officer did. The access record showed a timestamp just after eleven. Kaku hadn't been lying. Blueno had been there.

“Copy all of it,” Zoro said. “Main corridor, service corridor, elevator footage, and access logs.”

The officer nodded and began transferring the files. Zoro stepped back, finally allowing himself to straighten. His shoulders ached. His eyes burned. He glanced at his watch. Almost six. The night had disappeared without him noticing.

Zoro was already walking down the corridor when his phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket. Sanji.

He answered. “What?”

“We're done here.”

Zoro slowed. “The body's been transported?”

“Twenty minutes ago.”

“You didn't tell me.”

“You were busy interrogating Kaku.”

Zoro glanced at Ace. “We're heading to the lab.”

There was a brief pause. Then Sanji added, “And bring coffee.”

Zoro looked at the cup he'd abandoned hours ago in the security office. “You want coffee?”

“Bring three."

"Alright."

“And Zoro?”

“What?”

“Don't bring that awful one you had earlier.”

The line went dead.

Ace looked at him. “Your husband?”

“Yeah.”

“He still hates your coffee?”

“Apparently.”

Ace grinned. “Healthy marriage.”

Zoro shoved the phone into his pocket. “Shut up.”

_____

The forensic laboratory was already awake when they arrived.

Zoro stopped outside the observation glass, one hand braced against the frame. Beyond it, the laboratory glowed beneath a grid of white fluorescent lights, far brighter than the dim corridors outside. Stainless-steel counters reflected the overhead lights in cold, clean lines. Refrigerated evidence cabinets stood against one wall. Their indicator lights blinking steadily, while several monitors displayed photographs, analysis results, and evidence logs. The room smelled of disinfectant, alcohol, latex, and something faintly chemical he couldn't name.

Sanji was still working. He hadn't gone home. Neither had Nami or Usopp.

The three of them moved around the laboratory with the particular efficiency of people who'd been awake far too long to waste energy on unnecessary conversation. Nami sat hunched at one of the workstations, comparing photographs against notes on her tablet, one knee bouncing under the desk. Usopp stood near another counter, scrolling through digital images, occasionally squinting at a timestamp before muttering something to himself and moving on.

Sanji was at the examination station. His coat was gone, sleeves rolled to his elbows, blond hair tied back though several strands had escaped and fallen across his forehead. He looked tired. Very tired. Zoro could see it even through the glass — in the way Sanji leaned closer to the monitor to read something, in the way he pressed two fingers against the bridge of his nose before straightening again, in the small roll of his shoulder like he was trying to shake loose a stiffness that had settled somewhere between his neck and spine hours ago.

Zoro pushed through the door with a cardboard carrier balanced in one hand. Three cups of coffee just like Sanji had asked. 

Inside, Sanji noticed him first — his eyes flicking up, then straight to the carrier, the way a man dying of thirst might look at water. Zoro set it down on the clearest patch of counter he could find.

"One for you. One for Nami. One for Usopp."

Nami looked up from her tablet just long enough to reach for hers. "You're a lifesaver."

Usopp had his in hand almost before Zoro finished the sentence. "Finally."

Sanji, though, didn't move. He stared at his cup the way he might stare at an unidentified substance at a crime scene — assessing it, distrustful of it — then flicked his gaze up to Zoro.

"What is that?"

Zoro frowned. "Coffee?"

"I know it's coffee."

"Then why ask?"

Sanji didn't answer right away. Instead he leaned in, slow and deliberate, nose tilting toward the cup — and stopped an inch short of it. His whole face changed.

"No."

"You haven't even smelled it."

"I have."

"You barely—"

"I can smell it from here." He pushed the cup away with two fingers, like it might be contagious. "It smells like burnt rubber."

Usopp paused mid-sip, cup hovering. Nami lowered her nose toward her own cup, sniffed once, then shrugged.

"Mine smells fine."

"That's because you're not standing next to Zoro's."

Zoro crossed his arms. "It's from the place near the corner. The usual."

"That explains it."

He nudged the cup another inch away, as if putting more distance between them might help. Zoro watched him do it, something flickering behind his eyes that wasn't quite annoyance.

"You asked me to get this."

"I know."

"You specifically asked for coffee."

"I know that too."

"Then drink it."

Sanji looked at the cup, then at Zoro, with an expression usually reserved for people who'd suggested he drink from an evidence container. "I'd rather die."

"You're dramatic."

"I'm a forensic examiner. I know what death smells like."

Usopp, wisely, set his own cup down without another word.

Nami hid a smile behind her tablet, not quite fast enough.

Zoro glanced at the offending cup. "It can't be that bad."

Sanji eyed it a moment longer, suspicion warring with curiosity, then leaned in for one more breath — braver this time, or maybe just more stubborn. It didn't go well. His face tightened almost immediately, and he turned his head sharply away, one hand coming up to press against his mouth.

Zoro's brow furrowed. "You okay?"

"Fine." The word came out muffled, still half-behind his hand.

"You just made a face."

"Because your coffee is terrible."

"You haven't tasted it."

"I don't need to." He reached instead for the water bottle sitting beside the examination table, twisting the cap off with fingers that weren't quite steady, and took a slow, careful sip — the kind of sip that looked less like thirst and more like damage control.

Zoro watched him do it. Something about the reaction sat wrong in his chest, small and persistent, like a splinter he couldn't quite locate. Sanji had been pale since the night began. Now even the smell of something as mundane as bad coffee seemed to turn his stomach. But Sanji had already turned back to the workstation, screwing the cap back onto the bottle with more focus than the task really required.

"Did you find anything?"

The question pulled Zoro back to the case. “We talked to Kaku.”

Sanji lowered the bottle. “The secretary?”

“Yeah. He gave us two names.”

Sanji waited.

“Rob Lucci and Kalifa.”

“Rob Lucci.”

Zoro looked at him. “You know him?”

Sanji picked up the sealed sample bag. “I know his pheromone.”

Zoro's eyes narrowed. “Already matched?”

“Through the government reference registry.” He tapped the label on the bag. “The profile recovered from the office came back as Lucci's. High-confidence match.”

Zoro looked at the sample. “He's an Alpha?”

“Yes.”

“And Kalifa?”

“Omega.” Sanji set the sample back down. “How long were they inside?”

“Lucci, about fifteen minutes. Kalifa, around ten.”

“And they both left?”

“According to CCTV.”

Sanji nodded once, eyes returning to the monitor. “Good. That gives us somewhere to start.”

Zoro stepped closer. Several evidence containers sat arranged across the counter, each labeled with a case number and collection time in Sanji's small, precise handwriting. One sealed bag had been set apart from the rest, deliberately, like it mattered more than the others.

He recognized the label. "That's him?"

Sanji nodded, not looking up. "Lucci."

Zoro moved in for a closer look. "Certain?"

"Very."

"How?"

Sanji glanced at him over the rim of his glasses — the look he gave people who asked questions with obvious answers. "You asked me to find out."

"That wasn't the question."

A tired sigh left him, and he rubbed at one eye with the back of his wrist before answering. "The Alpha pheromone recovered from the office matches Lucci's profile."

Zoro's expression hardened. "How close?"

"High confidence."

"Enough for court?"

"Eventually. Probably."

"Enough for an arrest?"

Sanji shook his head, already reaching for the next sample. "No."

"Why?"

"Because pheromone presence doesn't establish when it was deposited." His voice had shifted into something more clinical, more careful — the tone he used when he wanted to be exact rather than fast. "Lucci was inside the office. We already know that from CCTV. So finding his pheromones there doesn't tell us anything we don't already know."

"So the sample proves nothing new."

"Not by itself."

Zoro nodded slowly, turning the thought over. "Could it have been transferred?"

Something flickered in Sanji's eyes — interest, maybe, or the beginning of a theory he wasn't ready to say out loud yet. "Yes."

"From what?"

"Still working on that."

Zoro huffed. "That's your favorite word."

"It's a scientifically responsible word."

"You use it too much."

"Because you ask too many questions before I have answers." But there was no real heat in it, just exhaustion wearing the shape of irritation.

The laboratory settled back into its quiet rhythm around them — the low hum of ventilation, the soft clicking of keyboards, an occasional beep from one of the machines. Zoro lingered a moment longer, watching Sanji's hands move over the keyboard, slow down, stop. He leaned toward the screen, read something twice, lips moving faintly around the words, then reached for another sample with the kind of careful precision that never seemed to leave him no matter how tired he got. Then, without warning, he stopped. His fingers curled tight around the edge of the counter, knuckles paling. He turned his face sharply away, jaw working, one hand rising toward his mouth again.

Zoro was already stepping closer. "Again?"

Sanji waved him off without turning around. "I'm fine."

"You're doing that a lot."

"Doing what?"

"Looking like you're about to throw up."

That got him to turn, if only to glare. "Maybe your coffee finally killed me."

"You didn't drink it."

"Exactly. That should tell you how bad it smells."

Zoro just looked at him. Sanji looked back, daring him to push further.

From across the room, Nami spoke without lifting her eyes from her tablet. "You two are distracting."

"I'm working," Zoro said.

"Then stop listening." Sanji added.

"I can't. You're loud."

Sanji muttered something under his breath that Zoro chose not to ask about.

"I'm going to talk to Lucci," Zoro said instead.

Sanji nodded, already turning back to his samples. "Good."

"Anything else?"

He thought for a moment, tapping one finger against the counter. "Ask him why he was there."

"I know."

"And ask whether he touched Iceburg."

Zoro paused. "Why?"

Sanji lifted the evidence bag, holding it up to the light like it might give up its secrets faster that way. "Because I want to know whether the pheromone transfer pattern makes sense."

"Got it."

He turned toward the door. He'd almost reached it when Sanji's voice stopped him.

"Zoro."

He looked back.

Sanji pointed, without looking up, at the untouched coffee still sitting on the counter. "Take that with you."

Zoro glanced at the cup. "You sure?"

"Yes."

"You don't want it?"

"I want you to stop making the laboratory smell like burnt rubber."

Zoro picked it up anyway, turning it once in his hand. "Thought you loved me."

"I do."

"Could've fooled me."

Sanji gave him a faint, tired smile — the kind that reached his eyes even through the exhaustion. "Go interrogate your Alpha."

Zoro shook his head and headed for the door, leaving Sanji, Nami, and Usopp to their work. He took the rejected coffee with him, cup still full, steam long gone.

Behind the glass, Sanji had already turned back toward the evidence, his attention narrowing once more to the dead judge and whatever answers were still hiding inside the samples. Zoro glanced back once before he left. He still didn't like how pale Sanji looked. But the case was moving. And right now, he had an Alpha to interrogate.

_____

Rob Lucci was waiting in Interview Room Two.
He looked exactly as Zoro expected. Calm. Straight-backed. Composed. His hands rested flat on the table, fingers loosely laced, the posture of a man who'd been sitting there for twenty minutes and hadn't so much as shifted his weight. No visible signs of nervousness. No tapping foot, no glance at the clock on the wall, no attempt to fill the silence before anyone spoke.

Zoro had interrogated enough people to know what guilt usually looked like. It fidgeted. It over-explained. It asked too many questions of its own. Lucci did none of that. He simply sat, and waited, and watched the door like he already knew exactly who was about to walk through it.

Zoro entered first. Ace followed, closing the door behind them with a little more force than necessary.

Lucci's eyes moved between them, unhurried.
"Detectives."

Zoro pulled out the chair opposite him and sat, setting his notebook down without opening it yet. He wanted a moment first. Just to look.

"You were at Judge Iceburg's office last night."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Business."

"What kind?"

"Private."

The word came out smooth, unbothered, like he'd handed over the answer he'd prepared days in advance rather than seconds ago.

Ace, leaning back in his chair with arms crossed, let out a short breath through his nose. "That's helpful."

Lucci turned his head toward him, slow and deliberate, the way a man might look at a fly that had landed somewhere inconvenient. "I wasn't aware I was being asked to be helpful."

Ace smiled — the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes, the one he wore right before he decided he didn't like someone. Zoro flipped his notebook open, mostly for something to do with his hands.

"You were there around eleven to met Iceburg."

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Approximately fifteen minutes."

Precise. Not "about fifteen minutes" or "maybe fifteen." Approximately. Like he'd checked a watch Zoro hadn't seen him wear.

"What did you discuss?"

"Professional matters."

"What kind?"

Lucci's eyes shifted toward Zoro, just his eyes, nothing else on his face moving with them. "You seem determined to make me repeat myself."

"I am."

A pause settled between them. Not an uncomfortable one — at least not for Lucci. He seemed perfectly at ease letting the silence stretch, letting Zoro sit in it, like he was testing how long it would take before someone else spoke first.

Zoro didn't blink.

Eventually, Lucci exhaled through his nose, unhurried. "The judge was reviewing a case involving the World Government."

"Which case?"

"That's confidential."

"You're not the judge."

"No."

"So answer the question."

Lucci's expression didn't change. Not a flicker. Zoro had watched a hundred people lie across this table — some sweated, some overcorrected, some couldn't stop touching their own face. Lucci did none of it. No agitation. No hesitation. He simply declined to answer, the way a man might decline a second cup of tea.

Interesting.

Zoro let it go for now and moved on, tapping his pen once against the edge of the notebook.
"You left at eleven forty-three."

"Yes."

"You didn't see anyone else?"

"No."

"Kalifa?"

A beat — the first genuine pause Lucci had given all interview, brief as it was.

"Yes."

"She came after you?"

"Yes."

"Did you speak to her?"

"No."

Zoro turned a page, though there was nothing written on it yet. It gave him a reason to look down, to think, without Lucci reading whatever was on his face.

"Did you touch Judge Iceburg?"

For the first time, something almost like amusement crossed Lucci's features — there and gone before Zoro could be sure he'd seen it at all.

"Yes."

"How?"

"We shook hands."

"Anything else?"

"No."

"Did he appear ill?"

"No."

"Afraid?"

"No."

"Angry?"

Lucci actually paused to consider this one, tilting his head a fraction, like he was searching for the most accurate word rather than the safest one. "Annoyed."

Zoro looked up from the notebook. "Annoyed?"

"With me."

Beside him, Ace shifted, glancing sideways at Zoro — a silent did you catch that look. Zoro kept his eyes fixed on Lucci, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Why?"

"That is private."

Zoro studied him for a long moment. Lucci stared back, unbothered, hands still loosely folded on the table exactly as they'd been since Zoro walked in. Nothing about him had shifted in the last ten minutes. Not his posture. Not his tone. Not even the rhythm of his breathing, as far as Zoro could tell.

That, more than anything else, was what bothered him. He closed the notebook.

"For now."

Zoro stood, the chair scraping back against the floor. Ace pushed off the wall to follow.

Lucci watched him rise without moving himself, gaze tracking upward, unhurried. "You don't have enough to charge me."

Zoro stopped, one hand still on the back of his chair. "I didn't say I was charging you."

"You're thinking about it."

Zoro looked back at him. For a second, something passed between them — not quite a challenge, not quite anything Zoro could name. Just the quiet certainty that Lucci already knew exactly how much evidence they had, and exactly how little of it pointed anywhere solid.

"That's my job."

Lucci's expression remained as unreadable as it had been the entire interview — composed, distant, patient in a way that felt less like innocence and more like a man who had all the time in the world.

Zoro walked out. He didn't look back, but he could feel Lucci's eyes on him the whole way to the door.

Outside, Ace let the door swing shut behind them and exhaled like he'd been holding his breath the entire time.

"That guy gives me the creeps."

"Yeah," Zoro said, already flipping back through his notes.

"He barely blinked."

"I noticed."

Ace glanced at him. "So? What do you think?"

Zoro's eyes stayed on the page, on the word annoyed he'd underlined twice without quite meaning to.

"I think he's telling the truth."

Ace raised an eyebrow. "That's not what I expected you to say."

"That's what bothers me."

The observation room beside them was already occupied.

Kalifa sat inside, waiting, one leg crossed neatly over the other, hands folded on top of a slim folder in her lap. She hadn't touched the glass of water someone had left for her. She hadn't touched anything, really — just sat there with the kind of stillness that looked practiced rather than nervous.

Ace glanced at Zoro. "Want me to take her?"

Zoro nodded. "You read her better than I do."

Ace's grin appeared instantly, entirely too pleased with itself. "Finally, some recognition."

"Don't enjoy it."

"Too late."

Zoro folded his arms and said nothing else, which Ace seemed to take as permission to enjoy it a little longer. He rolled his shoulders once, straightened his jacket like he was preparing for something far more important than a witness interview, and pushed through the door.

Zoro stayed behind the glass.

Kalifa looked up the moment Ace entered. Composed. Elegant. Unruffled — the exact opposite of every witness who'd come through that room looking like they'd been dragged out of bed at two in the morning, because in her case, she probably hadn't been sleeping to begin with. Zoro had noticed that in the footage too. She'd left the judge's office at 11:53 already fully dressed, hair done, not a single hair out of place. Whatever business she'd had with Iceburg, it hadn't been urgent enough to catch her off guard.

Ace dropped into the chair across from her, tipping it back slightly on two legs before letting it settle.

"Ms. Kalifa."

She offered a small, polite smile — the kind reserved for people she had no intention of actually being warm toward. "Detective."

"Ace is fine."

"I'll stick with Detective."

"Suit yourself." He laced his fingers behind his head, deceptively relaxed. "Long night, huh?"

"I imagine it's been longer for you."

"Fair point." He let the chair drop back onto all four legs. "You were at Judge Iceburg's office last night."

"Yes."

"Around eleven-thirty."

"If that's what the footage says."

"It is." Ace tapped the folder in front of him without opening it, more habit than necessity. "What were you doing there?"

"Delivering documents."

"At eleven-thirty at night?"

"Judges keep unusual hours. So do the people who work for them."

Zoro, behind the glass, tilted his head slightly. Not a lie exactly. But not really an answer either.

Ace seemed to notice the same thing, because his easy smile didn't waver, but something in his eyes sharpened. "What kind of documents?"

"Case files."

"Which case?"

"I wasn't given that information. I was asked to deliver them, not read them."

"Convenient."

Kalifa's expression didn't so much as twitch. "It's called professionalism, Detective. Not everyone reads what they're not authorized to."

Ace huffed out something close to a laugh. "Sure. So who asked you to deliver them?"

A pause — brief, measured. "My employer."

"Which is?"

"CP9 Legal Consulting."

"And your employer's name?"

"Confidential, unless you have a warrant."

Ace leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, voice dropping into something more conversational, almost friendly. "Here's the thing. A federal judge is dead. Locked room, no forced entry, and you're one of exactly three people who saw him alive in the hours before it happened. So I'm gonna need a little more than 'confidential' if you want to walk out of here without a subpoena chasing you home."

For the first time, something flickered behind Kalifa's eyes — not fear, Zoro thought, watching closely. Calculation. She was recalculating how much this conversation was going to cost her.

"Rob Lucci," she said finally.

Ace blinked. "Come again?"

"Rob Lucci is the one who requested the delivery. I work for him, indirectly."

Zoro straightened slightly behind the glass.

Ace's tone didn't change, but he leaned back again, feigning ease he clearly no longer felt. "Indirectly."

"CP9 handles several of his affairs. I don't ask questions about the nature of them."

"But you deliver documents to federal judges in the middle of the night without asking questions."

"I deliver what I'm told to deliver, Detective. That is the entirety of my job description."

"Must make dinner conversation difficult."

For the briefest moment, something like real amusement crossed her face — gone as quickly as it appeared. "You'd be surprised."

Ace tapped his pen against the table, considering her for a long moment. "Did you go inside the judge's office?"

"Yes. Briefly."

"How briefly?"

"Ten minutes. Perhaps twelve."

"Did you speak to him?"

"He thanked me for the delivery. That was the extent of it."

"He seem upset? Distracted? Anything?"

"He seemed like a man who wanted to go home." A pause. "Which, in hindsight, he should have."

Ace's eyebrows lifted slightly. Even Zoro, behind the glass, felt the shift in the room — the first thing Kalifa had said that sounded less like a rehearsed line and more like an actual observation.

"Did you touch anything in the office?"

"The desk, briefly, to set down the folder. Nothing else."

"Touch him?"

"No."

"See anyone else while you were up there?"

Kalifa considered this, tilting her head slightly. "Lucci, on my way in. He was leaving as I arrived."

"You two talk?"

"We nodded at each other. That was all."

"Nothing else?"

"No."

Ace studied her for a moment, tapping his pen once against the folder, then set it down entirely. "You know, for someone delivering paperwork, you're being awfully careful with your words."

"I'm being precise, Detective. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

"Precision doesn't leave room for misinterpretation. Carelessness does." She finally reached for the glass of water in front of her, taking a small, unhurried sip, eyes never leaving his over the rim. "I'd rather not be misinterpreted tonight."

Ace leaned back in his chair, arms crossing loosely over his chest, studying her with the kind of look he usually saved for people he hadn't quite decided whether to like. "Yeah. I'm starting to get that."

He let the silence sit for a moment, watching her, and Kalifa let him, entirely unbothered by it, in the same way Lucci had been unbothered fifteen minutes earlier. Zoro noted it from behind the glass — the same practiced stillness, the same careful withholding, like both of them had been trained in the exact same art of saying just enough to be true and nothing more.

Ace finally stood, sliding the folder off the table. "I think that's all for now."

"Am I free to go?"

"For now." He echoed Zoro's earlier line without seeming to realize it. "Don't leave the city."

Kalifa rose, smoothing down the front of her blazer with two efficient motions. "I wasn't planning to, Detective."

She left without another glance back. Ace watched the door close behind her before letting out a breath and dragging a hand down his face.

He stepped out into the observation room a moment later, dropping into the seat beside Zoro with all the energy of a man who'd just finished a much longer conversation than the one that had actually taken place.

"Well?" Zoro asked.

"She's good." Ace rubbed at his jaw. "Really good. Didn't even blink when I brought up the subpoena thing."

"You think she's lying?"

"I think—" Ace paused, considering it properly. "I think she's telling the truth about what she did. Delivered documents, talked to the judge for ten minutes, left. But I don't think she's telling us the whole truth about why."

Zoro's eyes stayed fixed on the now-empty room beyond the glass, turning that over. "Lucci sent her."

"Yeah."

"To deliver something to the man who ends up dead a few hours later."

"Yeah."

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Outside, the first grey light of morning had started creeping through the hallway windows, thin and unconvincing, like the building itself hadn't decided yet whether it was ready to let go of the night.

Zoro folded his arms. And for the first time that night, the case began to feel like it was moving. Not because they had found the killer. Because everyone they'd spoken to so far had told the truth — just never the whole truth.

“So,” Ace said, stretching until something in his back popped, “who do we lean on next?”

Zoro's eyes remained on the empty room.
“Blueno.”

Ace glanced at him. “You think he knows something?”

“I think Kaku saw him near the service corridor.”

“And the access logs put him there.”

“Yeah.”

Ace was quiet for a moment. “Still doesn't make him our killer.”

“Didn't say it did.”

“You think he went into the office?”

Zoro looked back at the footage paused on the monitor. Lucci. Kalifa. Empty corridor. Then the service corridor. The blind spot.

“I think,” he said slowly, “we should ask him why he was there.”

Ace nodded. “That's reasonable.”

Zoro glanced at him. “Don't sound so disappointed.”

“I liked it better when you accused people.”

“You like paperwork.”

“I like watching you create paperwork.”

Blueno arrived twenty minutes later. He didn't look surprised to see them. That was the first thing Zoro noticed. No hesitation when he entered the interview room. No nervous glance toward the door. No question about why he'd been called in. He simply walked inside, took the chair Ace indicated, and sat down. He wore the same dark security uniform he'd been seen wearing on the building's service cameras. His jacket was zipped to the collar. His expression was unreadable.

Ace closed the door behind him. “Blueno.”

“Detectives.”

Zoro sat across from him. Ace took the chair beside him, notebook already open.

“This is just a statement for now,” Ace said. “You understand?”

“Yes.”

“You're not under arrest.”

“I understand.”

Zoro watched him. Calm. Almost too calm. But there was nothing inherently suspicious about that. Blueno worked security in a federal building. He was probably used to dealing with police.

Zoro opened his notebook. “You were working last night?”

“Yes.”

“What shift?”

“Four p.m. to midnight.”

“Your access log shows you were still on the twenty-third floor after eleven.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Maintenance request.”

“What kind?”

“Access panel malfunction.”

“Which panel?”

“Service corridor, east side.”

Zoro glanced at Ace. Ace made a note.

“What time did you get the request?”

“Ten fifty-eight.”

“And you arrived?”

“Eleven.”

“Who reported the problem?”

“Security control.”

“Did you fix it?”

“Not completely.”

“Why not?”

“The panel needed a replacement component.”

“Did you report that?”

“Yes.”

“To whom?”

“Control supervisor.”

Zoro flipped a page. “You were near Judge Iceburg's office.”

“Yes.”

“Did you see him?”

“No.”

“Speak to him?”

“No.”

“Did you enter his office?”

“No.”

“Did you see anyone?”

Blueno paused. “Lucci.”

Zoro looked up. “When?”

“Shortly before I went into the service corridor.”

“Where?”

“Near the main corridor.”

“Did you speak?”

“No.”

“What about Kalifa?”

“I saw her.”

“Before or after Lucci?”

“Before.”

Zoro wrote it down. The timeline matched. Too neatly. He looked at Blueno.

“You know Judge Iceburg?”

“Yes.”

“How well?”

“Professionally.”

“Any problems between you?”

“No.”

“Did he ever ask you to do anything outside your security duties?”

“No.”

“Did you have access to his office?”

“Authorized access only.”

“Which means?”

“I could enter if security required it.”

“But you didn't last night.”

“No.”

Ace looked up from his notes. “You're sure?”

“Yes.”

Zoro studied him. Blueno didn't fidget. Didn't look away. Didn't even blink more than usual.

“You've been working in this building a long time?”

“Eight years.”

“Know the security layout?”

“Yes.”

“Cameras?”

“Yes.”

“Blind spots?”

Blueno's eyes shifted toward him for the first time. Barely. “Some.”

“There's one in the service corridor.”

“Yes.”

“Ten to twelve feet of coverage missing.”

“Yes.”

“How long has it been like that?”

“Since the renovation.”

“Why wasn't the camera moved?”

“I don't know.”

Zoro watched him. That answer was reasonable. Almost too reasonable.

“Did you know Judge Iceburg was dead before security opened the office?”

“No.”

“Did you know Lucci had been in his office?”

“I saw him leave.”

“Did you know Kalifa had been there?”

“I saw her earlier.”

“Did you know Kaku was coming to the building?”

“No.”

Zoro closed his notebook. Blueno remained still. Ace leaned back.

“That's all for now.”

Blueno nodded. He stood. His chair scraped softly against the floor. At the door, he stopped.

Zoro looked up. “Blueno.”

“Yes?”

“You said the service panel malfunctioned at eleven.”

“Yes.”

“You were there for how long?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“Until?”

“Eleven fifteen.”

Zoro's eyes narrowed. “Then why does the access log show your badge at eleven twenty-one?”

For the first time, Blueno hesitated. It lasted less than a second. “Maintenance control asked me to check the panel again.”

Zoro didn't move. “Again?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn't you mention that earlier?”

Blueno looked at him. “You asked when I first went there.”

Ace's pen stopped. Zoro stared at him. Technically, he was right. Technically.

“Who asked you to go back?”

“Control supervisor.”

“Name?”

Blueno gave it. Zoro wrote it down. “Okay.”

Blueno nodded once. Then he left. The door closed behind him.

Ace looked at Zoro. “You caught that too.”

“Yeah.”

“The second trip.”

“Yeah.”

Ace leaned back. “Think he's lying?”

Zoro looked through the glass at Blueno disappearing down the hallway. “I think he's hiding something.”

“About the murder?”

“Don't know.”

Ace closed his notebook. “Then what?”

Zoro glanced at the clock.

Almost six-thirty. He thought about the office. The locked door. The pheromone. The service corridor. The missing camera coverage. Then he thought about Blueno's answer.

I think he's hiding something.

But that wasn't the same as murder. Not yet. Zoro stood.

“Let's see what Sanji has.”

Ace followed. “Coffee?”

Zoro looked at him. “Yeah.”

Ace grinned. “For you?”

Zoro nodded. “And don't buy the one from downstairs.”

“Why?”

Zoro remembered Sanji's face. “Apparently it smells like burnt rubber.”

Ace laughed. “Your marriage is fascinating.”

“Shut up.”

They walked down the corridor together. Neither of them noticed Blueno standing at the far end of the hall. Watching them leave.

_____

Zoro found Sanji in the examination room.
The body had already been transferred from the crime scene. Iceburg lay beneath the bright surgical lights, surrounded by equipment and sealed evidence trays, the sterile white of the room making everything look somehow more clinical than it had at the office — less like a person, more like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Nami stood at one workstation, reviewing photographs with her tablet propped against a stack of folders. Usopp was comparing the images from the office with the latest documentation from the lab, muttering timestamps to himself under his breath. Sanji stood at the examination table, one gloved hand resting beside the body, the other holding a photograph up to the light. He looked up when Zoro entered.

"You're back."

"With Ace."

Ace walked in behind him, carrying a tablet under one arm.

Sanji's eyes moved briefly to him, then back to Zoro. Sharper now than they'd been in the lab a few hours ago — like the fatigue was still there but had been shoved somewhere further back to make room for focus.

"Anything useful?"

"Blueno."

That got Sanji's attention. He set the photograph down and turned fully toward them.

Zoro stepped closer. "He was in the service corridor around eleven. Access logs confirm it."

"Did he admit it?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Maintenance."

Sanji waited, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

Zoro shook his head. "Not enough."

Ace set the tablet down beside Sanji's workstation, angling it so the screen faced him. "He also accessed the corridor again at eleven twenty-one."

Sanji leaned in to look at the screen, glasses catching the overhead light. "Again?"

"He said the control supervisor sent him back."

"Did they?"

Ace shook his head. "No."

Sanji's expression sharpened further, the same look he got when a sample came back with numbers that didn't add up.

Zoro glanced toward the body, then back at him. "What's your update?"

Sanji straightened, pulling his glasses off with two fingers to rub at the bridge of his nose — a gesture Zoro had watched him repeat at least a dozen times tonight, though it seemed to be doing less good with each round. He put them back on.

"Cause of death is almost confirmed."

"Pheromone?"

"No."

Zoro frowned. "Then what?"

Sanji reached for a sealed evidence tray, movements careful despite the hour, despite everything. He lifted a photograph from the tray and placed it beneath the overhead light. The broken drinking glass.

Zoro recognized it immediately. "The glass was close to the body."

"Close," Sanji said, tapping one gloved finger just beside the image without touching it. "But not where it broke."

Zoro looked at him.

Sanji pointed to several tiny fragments visible in the photograph, his voice settling into the same clinical rhythm it always did when he was building an argument piece by piece. "Most of the larger pieces landed here. The smaller fragments were scattered farther away."

"So?"

"So Iceburg didn't drop it while falling."

Ace leaned closer, squinting at the photo. "Someone broke it."

"Likely."

Zoro looked back at the photograph. "What was in it?"

Sanji's expression changed — not dramatically, just a small tightening around his mouth, the look of someone about to say something they wished they didn't have to.

"Toxin."

Silence settled over the room. Even Nami looked up from her tablet.

Ace straightened. "How long before death?"

"Minutes."

Zoro's mind immediately went back to Kaku's statement. Eleven forty. Iceburg alive. Annoyed. Reading something. Alone. Then the timeline unspooled in his head — Lucci. Kalifa. Blueno — each name landing with more weight than the last.

He looked at Sanji. "And the pheromone?"

Sanji reached for another evidence bag, and Zoro noticed the faint shake in his fingers as he peeled back the label — small, probably nothing, probably just exhaustion after a night like this. He filed it away anyway, the same way he filed away everything that didn't quite fit.

"This is where it gets interesting." Sanji placed the bag beside the glass photograph. "Lucci's pheromone is on the glass."

Zoro's eyes narrowed. "Natural transfer?"

"Not exactly."

Ace looked between them. "What does that mean?"

Sanji pointed toward the highlighted areas on the analysis screen, leaning in close enough that a strand of hair slipped loose from behind his ear. He didn't bother pushing it back. "The concentration isn't consistent with casual contact."

Zoro remembered Lucci's answer, flat and unbothered across the interview table. We shook hands. "You're saying someone put it there."

"I'm saying the pheromone was transferred."

"After Lucci left?"

Sanji glanced at the timestamp on the analysis screen, jaw tightening slightly in concentration. "Most likely."

Ace was already scrolling through the access log on the tablet. "Lucci left at eleven forty-three."

"Kalifa left at eleven fifty-three," Zoro added.

Ace tapped the screen. "And Blueno accessed the service corridor again at eleven twenty-one."

Zoro looked at him. "Before Kalifa."

"Right." Ace scrolled further, and something in his posture changed — shoulders going still. "But there's another access."

Zoro stepped closer, the photograph forgotten for a moment. "Who?"

Ace pointed at the screen. "Blueno. Eleven fifty-seven."

The room went quiet again, quieter than before. Even the low hum of the lab equipment seemed to fade into the background.

Sanji looked up from the evidence bag. "Four minutes after Kalifa left."

Zoro stared at the timestamp until the numbers stopped looking like numbers. Eleven fifty-seven. A locked office. No one visible on the main corridor. A service corridor with a blind spot wide enough to swallow a man whole. And someone carrying a pheromone profile that didn't belong to him.

He looked at Sanji. "Anything else?"

Sanji hesitated — just a beat, a flicker of something crossing his face before he reached for a second evidence bag. His hand lingered on it a moment longer than necessary.

"There is." Sanji reached a sealed plastic bag bag, inside was a small swab, sealed and labeled in his own neat handwriting. "Biological trace."

Zoro frowned. "From the glass?"

"Glass and door frame."

"Alpha?"

"No." Sanji looked at him, something steady and certain in his expression despite everything else about him looking worn thin. "Beta."

Ace's expression hardened.

Zoro didn't say anything. He didn't need to. They all arrived at the same conclusion in the same silence.

Blueno.

Sanji set the evidence bag down carefully, like it might still change its mind. "I haven't matched it yet."

"You can?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"A few hours." He said it steadily, though Zoro caught the way his hand pressed briefly against the edge of the table, just for balance, just for a second, before letting go.

Zoro looked at Ace. Ace was already reaching for his phone.

"Then we don't wait."

Sanji's eyes narrowed. "Don't arrest him based on this."

Zoro looked at him. "We won't."

"Good."

"We'll bring him back."

Sanji studied him for a moment, arms crossing loosely over his chest. "As a suspect?"

Zoro nodded. This time, there was no uncertainty in it. "As a suspect."

Ace turned toward the door, already dialing. "I'll have them bring him in."

Zoro followed, but he paused at the threshold, glancing back once. Sanji had already turned away, reaching for his glasses again, pressing two fingers briefly against his eyes before continuing — the same tired motion from earlier, just a little heavier this time.

"Zoro."

He stopped in the doorway. "Yeah?"

Sanji pointed toward the evidence tray without looking up. "Don't lose the glass."

Zoro glanced at it, then back at him. "I won't."

Sanji nodded, already turning back to his work. "Good."

Zoro held there a second longer than he needed to — just long enough to notice, again, how pale Sanji still looked under the harsh lab lighting, how the exhaustion sat differently on him tonight than it usually did after a long shift. He didn't say anything about it. Not now. There wasn't time, and Sanji would only wave him off again anyway.

He stepped into the corridor with Ace instead, filing the thought away with all the others he hadn't had time to look at yet.

The case had finally changed. They weren't looking for someone who might know something anymore. They were looking for the man who had been standing inside the one place their cameras couldn't see.

_____

Blueno was brought back forty minutes later. This time, he wasn't offered coffee. He sat in the same chair as before, hands resting loosely on the table. His expression remained calm, but there was a difference. He knew. Whatever had changed since the first interview, Blueno could feel it.

Zoro sat across from him. Ace took the chair beside him and placed a thin evidence folder on the table. He didn't open it. Not yet.

“You're being interviewed as a suspect now,” Zoro said.

Blueno nodded. “I understand.”

“You still want to give us the same statement?”

“Yes.”

Ace glanced at Zoro. Zoro opened his notebook.

“You were in the service corridor at eleven.”

“Yes.”

“You accessed it again at eleven twenty-one.”

“Yes.”

“And again at eleven fifty-seven.”

Blueno's expression didn't change. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Maintenance.”

“Three times?”

“The panel wasn't working properly.”

Ace leaned forward. “Interesting.”

Blueno looked at him. “What's interesting?”

“You didn't mention the third access.”

“I wasn't asked.”

Ace smiled faintly. “You're very fond of that answer.”

Blueno said nothing.

Zoro slid a photograph across the table. The service corridor. Then the broken glass. Then the office door.

“We found Beta biological material on all three.”

Blueno's eyes moved to the photographs. Still nothing.

Ace opened the folder. “And we found something else.” He placed the lab report on the table. “The pheromone on the glass belongs to Rob Lucci.”

Blueno looked at him. “I don't see what that has to do with me.”

“Neither did we.” Zoro leaned forward. “Until we looked at the timeline.”

Blueno remained silent.

“Lucci left at 11:43.” Zoro tapped the table once. “Kalifa left at 11:53.” Another tap. “You accessed the service corridor at 11:57.”

Blueno's jaw tightened slightly. Ace noticed. Zoro did too.

“You knew the camera couldn't see that part of the corridor.” Zoro added.

“I knew the camera had a blind spot.”

“You knew the layout.”

“Yes.”

“You knew Iceburg's office.”

“Yes.”

“You knew the security system.”

“Yes.”

Ace pushed the photograph of the door toward him. “And you knew we'd look for an Alpha.”

Blueno looked up.

Zoro held his gaze. “Because you left Lucci's pheromone behind.”

Silence.

For the first time, Blueno looked away.

Ace didn't give him time to recover. “You didn't have to make us believe Lucci was there.”

Blueno's eyes returned to him.

“He was already there.” Ace tapped the report. “All you had to do was make us believe his pheromone had been left there after the murder.”

Blueno stared at the paper.

Zoro spoke quietly. “The toxin was in Iceburg's drink.”

Blueno said nothing.

“You broke the glass afterward. You contaminated it with Lucci's pheromone. And then you left through the service corridor.”

Blueno's fingers tightened slightly.

Ace leaned back. “We don't need you to confess for the evidence to tell us what happened.”

That finally made Blueno look at him.

Ace's voice remained calm. “But we'd like to know why.”

A long silence followed. Both detectives waited.

Then Blueno exhaled. “Iceburg found out.”

Zoro's expression didn't change. “Found out what?”

“Security records.”

“What about them?”

Blueno looked down at his hands. “I'd been altering access logs.”

Ace's eyes narrowed. “For what?”

“To let people in.”

“Who?”

Blueno didn't answer.

Zoro waited.

Eventually, Blueno said, “People who weren't supposed to be there.”

“Iceburg discovered it?”

“Yes.”

“And he was going to report you?”

Blueno nodded. “He gave me until morning.”

Zoro looked at Ace. Ace understood. The early hearing. The files. The reason Iceburg had stayed late.

“When you went into his office,” Zoro said, “he confronted you.”

“Yes.”

“Then what?”

“He said he was going to notify Internal Affairs.”

“You killed him.”

Blueno's eyes closed briefly. “I didn't intend to.”

Zoro's expression hardened. “You brought the toxin.”

Blueno said nothing.

Ace spoke instead. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Blueno looked at him. “I knew it would stop him.”

“And the pheromone?”

Blueno swallowed. “I had access to Lucci's belongings.”

Zoro's eyes narrowed. “How?”

“Security handled his coat earlier that night.”

There it was. The missing piece. Blueno had access to something carrying Lucci's pheromone. He had the opportunity. He had the knowledge. And he had used the building itself to hide his movements.

Ace pulled another sheet from the folder. “There is one more problem.”

Blueno looked at him.

Ace turned the document around. “You didn't just contaminate the evidence.” He tapped the report. “You deliberately concentrated Lucci's pheromone inside the office.”

Blueno's expression remained still. “That's not a crime.”

Ace's eyes lifted. “It is when you use another person's pheromone signature to falsely attribute presence or criminal conduct to them.”

Blueno said nothing.

Zoro watched him carefully.

Ace continued. “Under the Secondary Gender Regulation Act, unlawful pheromone manipulation is a separate offense.”

Blueno's eyes flicked toward him. “You're charging me for that?”

“We're adding it to the case.” Ace turned another page. “Fraudulent pheromone attribution. Evidence tampering. And aggravated pheromone exposure.”

Blueno frowned. “I didn't hurt anyone with the pheromone.”

Zoro leaned forward. “You saturated a crime scene above the regulated exposure limit.”

“I didn't know anyone would be affected.”

“You work security.” Zoro's voice stayed flat. “You knew exactly what the exposure threshold was.”

Blueno didn't answer.

Ace closed the folder. “You weren't just trying to hide a murder.” He looked directly at Blueno. “You weaponized someone else's secondary-gender profile to manufacture evidence.”

The room went quiet.

Blueno lowered his gaze.

For the first time since he'd entered the room, the calmness in his face began to crack. Zoro saw it. Not fear. Not exactly. Acceptance. He knew the story was over.

“You poisoned Iceburg's drink,” Zoro said. “You broke the glass. You planted Lucci's pheromone. You used the service corridor because you knew the cameras couldn't see you.”

Blueno remained silent.

“You locked the office behind you.”

A long pause.

Then Blueno nodded. “Yes.”

Ace reached for the recorder. “State clearly what you just admitted.”

Blueno stared at the table. “I killed Judge Iceburg.”

Ace pressed the button. The recorder clicked. Zoro leaned back. Everything fit. The pheromone. The glass. The blind spot. The access logs. The timeline. For hours, they'd been looking at the evidence as separate pieces. Now it formed a single picture.

Ace closed the folder. “Blueno, you're under arrest for the murder of Judge Iceburg, evidence tampering, unlawful pheromone manipulation, fraudulent pheromone attribution, and aggravated pheromone exposure.”

Blueno didn't resist. The door opened behind him. Two officers stepped inside. As they escorted him out, Zoro remained seated for another moment. He looked at the evidence folder. Then at the empty chair.

Case closed.

Almost.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Zoro glanced at the screen.

Sanji.

He answered.

“Yeah?”

Sanji's voice came through, tired and slightly hoarse. “Where are you?”

Zoro looked at Ace. “Still at the station.”

A pause.

Then—

“Come home.”

Zoro frowned. “Everything okay?”

Another pause.

“Just come home, Marimo.”

Zoro straightened. Something in Sanji's voice had changed.

“I'm coming.”

He hung up.

Ace raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Zoro slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I don't know.”

For the first time all night, the murder wasn't the thing occupying his mind.

He stood.

“Let's go home.”

_____

The sun had fully risen by the time Zoro got home. His shirt still smelled faintly of the federal building — cold air, coffee from the station, and the ghost of that damn Alpha pheromone he doubted he'd ever fully get out of his memory. Blueno was in holding. Confession pending, but the access logs and the blind spot in the service corridor had done most of the talking already.

He dropped his keys on the counter and found Sanji standing at the kitchen counter, back turned, one hand braced against the edge of the sink.

The coffee maker was still gurgling. Untouched.

"Curls?"

Sanji didn't turn around. "Give me a second."

Zoro's eyes narrowed. He stepped closer. "You okay?"

"I said—" Sanji's shoulders hitched. He leaned over the sink instead of answering, and this time there was no pretending it was nothing.

Zoro was beside him in two steps, one hand hovering uselessly near his back, unsure whether touching would help or just be in the way.

When Sanji finally straightened, he looked pale in a way that had nothing to do with the hour or the case. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, breathing carefully through his nose.

"That's the fourth time this week," Zoro said.

"I'm aware."

"You said you were fine. Every time."

"I was hoping I still would be." Sanji reached for the counter, steadying himself. "Apparently my body disagrees."

Zoro studied him. The paleness. The way he'd nearly gagged at the crime scene — not from the body, Sanji had seen worse, but from something in the room. The way he'd been quieter than usual the past two weeks, more tired, snapping at things that normally wouldn't bother him.

Detective instincts, useless for ten years apparently, chose now to switch on.

"Curly."

"What."

"When was your last cycle?"

Sanji went very still.

The coffee maker beeped, finished, and neither of them moved toward it.

"...Shit," Sanji said quietly.

Zoro stared at him. "You didn't even think about it?"

"I've been a little busy, Zoro, in case you didn't notice, there was a murder—"

"That's not an excuse for missing something this obvious."

Sanji shot him a look. "Says the man who didn't notice for two weeks."

Zoro opened his mouth. Closed it. Fair.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The kitchen was quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the smell of coffee neither of them was going to drink now.

"We should go to Chopper's," Zoro said finally.

Sanji exhaled, still leaning against the counter like his legs weren't entirely sure about this. "Yeah."

"Now?"

"After I sit down for five minutes, yes, now, Marimo, I just threw up—"

"Right. Sitting. Got it."

Zoro pulled a chair out for him, which was such an un-Zoro thing to do that Sanji actually paused before sitting, eyeing him.

"You're freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out."

"You pulled out a chair."

"People do that."

"You don't."

Zoro said nothing, which was, as far as Sanji was concerned, confirmation enough.

Sanji finally sat, lowering himself into the chair with a tired sigh. He rested his elbows on the counter and looked up at Zoro, something soft creeping into his expression despite the exhaustion.

"Silly us."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Us?"

"You didn't notice. I didn't notice." Sanji gestured vaguely between the two of them, like that explained everything. "Two grown men. One of them a detective."

Zoro huffed. "You're the one with the medical degree."

"Exactly. Which makes it worse."

Zoro stared at him for a second — the utter exhaustion, the mess of blond hair, the disbelief still sitting plainly on both their faces — and something in his chest loosened despite everything. The corner of his mouth lifted first. Then Sanji's did too, like it was contagious.

"We're both idiots," Sanji said, and this time he actually laughed, quiet and a little disbelieving, like the ridiculousness of it had just fully caught up to him.

Zoro laughed too — tired and low, barely lasting more than a few seconds, but real. For a moment they just stayed like that, laughing over nothing and everything, two people who'd spent the entire night chasing down someone else's secrets while missing the most obvious one sitting right between them.

Eventually the laughter faded into quiet. Neither of them looked particularly worried anymore.

Just tired.

And, somehow, a little amused at their own expense.