Chapter Text
Autumn leaves preformed a ballet of swirls in the chilly air of October. Grey skies loomed distantly like the ever-watchful owl, causing citizens to feel on edge. Black leather boots clacked on the rough pavement, just another one of the hundreds of other feet walking in the bustling city of Seikirou.
Takumi huddled his hands around his cup of coffee, cursing himself for not wearing his gloves. Putting one hand inside the pocket of his grey pea coat, he searched for the gloves that he knew would not be there. Sighing a cloud into the crisp air, Takumi settled on pressing his fingers to his cup of coffee for warmth. Autumn was not Takumi’s favorite month.
A bustling intersection caused Takumi to have to wait, feeling much like he was a part of a herd of cattle in the crowd of people waiting. The glass buildings of Seikirou towered overhead, making the people on the streets seem as small as ants in comparison. The towers did not bother Takumi in the slightest, he was more than used to this. He was one of city’s cattle after all; groomed, trained, and raised to be one of the city's natives.
The light changed and Takumi began to move, as slow as a turtle, across the street. This city was overcrowded. Luckily, Takumi was in no rush to get to work, seeing as he still had half an hour till he needed to arrive. Nevertheless, the slow pace of the herd still irritates him slightly. With the amount of rush that each individual seemed to be fretting with, Takumi figured that things would move faster here. Of course, that was completely untrue, much to Takumi’s dismay.
Finally, Takumi got to the other side of the street, the crowd dispersing a bit. Takumi eyed the regal clothes and knickknacks on display in shops as he prowled through the city.
It was during this revere that Takumi was suddenly assaulted by scalding liquid and a sturdy body, breaking whatever peaceful composer that Takumi was carrying.
Sliding on the ground from the impact, Takumi resisted the urge to yelp as his own boiling coffee fell unto him along with the stranger’s. Instead, Takumi sat up, rubbing his head and looked the stranger, expecting an apology.
The stranger had fallen as well, and he too sat up, only centimeters away from Takumi. Takumi noted that the stranger was a rather handsome fellow, with hair like light and eyes like the night. However, being attractive was not an excuse to be rude, and so Takumi continued to wait for the apology.
The apology never came, instead the stranger clicked his tongue and gave but a brief spiteful glance at Takumi before he sprang to his feet and looked around calculatingly. His brows knit together slightly as he continued to ponder whatever he was thinking of, unfazed by Takumi's dagger like glare.
Takumi stood up aggressively. Who did this man think he was? Takumi had just been drenched in unpleasantly hot coffee, two fold, and his coat was stained! Yet, this pompous man had yet to spare him so much as a glance!
“Excuse me?” Takumi jutted his chin assertively up at the taller male who looked as though he forgot Takumi was there. “You do realize that you didn’t hit a wall a few moments ago as you were running so carelessly!”
The blond male’s eyes drifted from where he was looking, wherever in space that was, to Takumi, finally realizing that Takumi was addressing him. Takumi clicked his tongue; did this man expect him to have scampered away from him like a peasant would in the sight of a prince after colliding? Takumi felt his blood begin to boil even more. What was this man’s problem?
“Running into a wall would have been more pleasant,” the blond spoke with snide, crossing his arms and going back to looking around methodically.
Takumi clenched his fists. The more this man spoke, the more Takumi felt ready to kick this man in the shin. “Is that what you say when you spill boiling coffee on a man on the street? Did your parents raise you like that?”
An infuriating smirk pulled at the blond’s lips as he spoke. “In fact, that is how I was raised. You shouldn’t assume everyone was raised the same way you were. For your information, I spilled some on myself too. You should be happy for the warmth, you were looking so cold.”
Takumi took a challenging step forward. “Are you implying that it’s ME who is being rude?” Takumi faked a laugh, “Ha! Yes, I do enjoy having my clothes smell like coffee before work and I love the stains. I hear it’s the latest trend.”
“I’ve implied nothing this entire time. I’ve merely stated facts. If you enjoy the smell of coffee, to each his own.” The blond stranger propped up the collar of his black trench coat, ignoring the aggressive sarcasm in Takumi’s voice. “Now, I must be off to my own.” The man tapped a gloved hand to his chin in thought before smirking at Takumi. “Oh and, I apologize for bumping into you.”
As quick as he appeared, he bolted out, fading into the crowd. Takumi’s jaw dropped. He apologized? Just like that? Takumi pinched the bridge of his nose. What a strange man that was. Takumi would have pondered at the blond’s strange behavior and snark for longer, but now Takumi wanted to insure that he got to work on time. Not to mention that Takumi wanted to get indoors as soon as possible; the liquid on his skin now feeling like ice when the wind caressed his skin.
Takumi walked faster, until he reached the skyscraper that read ‘Hoshido’ on it. Walking through the revolving door, Takumi was greeting with maroon tiles, flecks of varying shades shining in the glossy lights, and a grand similar coloured symbol that Takumi knew well to be the symbol of Hoshido.
“Good morning, Takumi sir,” Kagero, Ryoma’s assistant, greeted. “Your brother wishes to see you today for important business, you will see the details in your office.”
“Good morning to you too, and thank you for telling me.” Takumi nodded and walked to the elevator.
Hoshido Agencies was the biggest legal firm in the world. They covered everything, from ties to the police force to detectives to lawyers. The business had been passed down through the family Shiragi and the current CEO was Ryoma Shiragi, Takumi’s elder brother. Takumi himself was a detective of the agency, but his work for the past five years had taken him half way across the world and back.
The Case of Silence, Takumi had been assigned to it nearly half a decade ago. A case that was no doubt the work of a mad serial killer had left the world’s detectives speechless. The killer was incredibly skilled; there was no doubt about that. Never once was there a trace left behind at the gruesome crime scenes. The killer had a flare for theatrics it seemed, leaving behind a letter of blood at each crime scene. Not that they ever seemed to spell anything. It was only last week that Takumi was called back to the headquarters of Hoshido after being present on and off for the last five years.
Takumi rolled his shoulder back, preparing himself for another day, as he stepped out of the elevator and gave his card to the secretary, Mozu. On this floor, many small offices were present near the entrance. Indoor plants decorated fashionably around most corners and the walls were covered in glass, giving a pleasant view of the city.
Trying to cover the stains on his coat as he walked, Takumi made his way past the smaller offices to the personal rooms for higher ranked workers. At the very end of the hall was Takumi’s room, a room only meant for those with the highest esteem.
Takumi opened the door to his office. The professional looking office was about the size of a modern bedroom. The back wall of his office was glass, looking over something of an urban recreational park and some smaller buildings. A large cherry wood desk held various knickknacks and some photos. The most notable feature of Takumi’s office was the large cork board that was adored with photos of criminals, and a map of the world with red tacks littered over certain spots. Words were scribbled on the map, things circled, it was quiet the grand mess. Another notable feature was the cleanliness of his desk. It was to be expected, Takumi wasn’t in this room very often.
Shrugging his coat off, frowning at the mocking coffee stain on his grey coat, Takumi put his hands on his hips and looked out his glass window. Despite it being around 7:30am, the city looked very alive. One thing that Takumi liked about his job as a detective was that it allowed him to travel the world. Takumi wished that when he traveled it wasn’t always on a trail of blood, but Takumi took his job seriously.
Five long years of tracking The Case of Silence, and it was beginning to frustrated Takumi. Ryoma would no doubt be greatly disappointed in Takumi for coming up with nothing after five years of relentless searching.
Although one could argue that it was Takumi’s birthright to rise to fame in the company of Hoshido, it wasn’t a monarchy. Takumi had to work to get in the position that he held today, and it had been through detective work that Takumi earned respect. Ryoma had been the one to guide Takumi to the field of investigation. The older man had put much faith into Takumi’s skills, but Takumi had undoubtedly let him down.
Takumi was kidding no one. He may have worked to be recognized, but Takumi knew that him being a Shiragi played a factor to get him where he was today. There were better detectives out there that deserved a chance.
Legs feeling like lead, Takumi sighed and walked over to his desk. Folding back the sleeves of his white button up shirt, Takumi picked up the unfamiliar stack of papers that lay on his desk. No doubt, these were from Ryoma.
In characteristically bold handwriting, Takumi read Ryoma’s note. There was not much on it other than a time that told Takumi that he would have to meet with Ryoma in twenty minutes.
Takumi looked blankly at the ornamented world map on his wall. Was this where it ends? Takumi had put so much work into the case, but was it time to call it quits? Never before had Takumi failed to find his target and for a while, Takumi thought that maybe he was cut out to be a detective. The last time Takumi thought that no target could escape him was years ago when he was an enthusiastic spring chicken. He had worked on cases that took longer than five year before, but none had consistently shown that the search was going, well, absolutely nowhere.
“Morning, sir!” A cheery voice peaked from outside Takumi’s door.
Takumi recognized the voice as his colleague, Hinata. “You can come in,” Takumi allowed.
Hinata opened the door, his smile bright. It wasn’t uncommon to see Hinata in the office, but it wasn’t an every day sight either. Hinata was a police chief, but he was also Takumi’s childhood friend. When Takumi was out doing work, he often relied on Hinata to help gather information for him.
“I brought you a cup of coffee!” Hinata held out one of the two cups in his hands.
Truth be told, Takumi didn’t enjoy coffee much. He needed it on days like today though. Especially since he had spilled his earlier today in that encounter with the rude blond stranger.
“I think I’ve had enough of coffee for today,” Takumi cringed, remembering the peculiar blond man from earlier. Remembering that tantalizing smirk worked better than caffeine to wake Takumi up. It was infuriating.
“Um, sir?” Hinata tilted his head in puzzlement at Takumi’s change in demeanor.
“Just thinking about things. I have to get ready to see brother soon.” Takumi stretched.
“Oh, all right,” Hinata frowned at the extra cup of coffee in his hand. “Good luck! I’m sure you’ll be fine!” Hinata gave supportive thumbs up at Takumi before leaving.
Takumi wouldn’t say it, but Hinata had lightened his mood with the small gesture.
Turning on his computer, Takumi thought to check his emails. Perhaps by some miracle one of his contacts would have a message about a new lead. The thought was naïve, but Takumi held onto it with a frail sense of hope.
The computer turned on quickly enough and Takumi opened his emails. Rolling his eyes, Takumi leaned back in his chair. Of course there were no updates related to a new lead. The trail had gone cold long ago.
Not wanting to give up, Takumi decided to read news sites. Nothing of much matter was there either.
After fifteen minutes of prowling the Internet, Takumi decided that it was time to go to Ryoma, who had his office three floors above him.
With an over looming sense of dread, Takumi made his way to Ryoma’s office. Ryoma’s office was down the hall from where Takumi had gotten out of the elevator. The burgundy carpets made Takumi feel as though he were a prisoner approaching a king for execution. Ridiculous, anyone would have told Takumi if they heard his thoughts.
Ryoma was his brother; Takumi wouldn’t be let off his job completely. Takumi clenched his fists. He would rather be fired than be kept solely because of his blood ties to the company.
Takumi rather be the only one of four siblings not in the business than be kept for such a demeaning reason.
Forcing his thumping heart calm, Takumi took in a deep breath and knocked on the door to Ryoma’s office.
“Come in,” Ryoma’s sturdy voice called.
Takumi opened the door to the larger office. Bookshelves lined the walls and like Takumi’s office, there was a large window along one wall. Ryoma sat at his desk, eyes still looking over the files in his hand for a moment longer before he looked up at his younger brother.
“Please sit,” Ryoma gestured to the smaller chair on the other side of his desk.
Keeping his steps calm, Takumi took a seat. Ryoma did not address him yet, still looking over papers once more. Takumi felt awkward sitting there; he wasn’t entirely sure where his eyes should be looking right now. Takumi looked at the window behind Ryoma, before thinking that it would look at disrespectful. Then Takumi looked at Ryoma, which felt odd. Finally, Takumi looked to Ryoma’s papers, but then Takumi realized that was rude too. In the end, Takumi settled on looking at his own folded hands. Although, Takumi knew that he must look on edge doing that.
Takumi swallowed thickly. He was a mess. Utterly not cut out for the life of business. Ryoma was inspiring, wise, and always seemed to be on the side of justice and light. Unlike Takumi, Ryoma had started off as a lawyer before climbing up the ranks. From day one, Takumi remembered everyone praising Ryoma.
Meanwhile Takumi was the problematic younger brother. He was still the problematic brother. He couldn’t even solve what had been tasked to him after all these years.
Finally, after what seemed like years to Takumi, Ryoma put his papers down and laced his fingers together, resting his chin on the bridge in thought. “It’s been awhile, Takumi.”
“We have both been busy,” Takumi felt himself shrink under his brother’s gaze, but he kept his poster straight.
“Yes, that’s true. All of us travel a lot. Hinoka as our spokesperson, Sakura as our negotiator, you as our detective, and I as the CEO, we all have jobs that involve travel. However, we aren’t here for a brotherly reunion today. I assume you know why you are here?” Ryoma spoke coolly.
“I do,” Takumi forced himself not to tense, “it’s because the case I was assigned to seems to have gone out of our reach.” This was it; this was where Takumi would be marked as a failure. All the sleepless nights spent searching for leads, till his eyes felt like they were bleeding, meant nothing in the end.
“Could you run the case by me again. All that is relevant to date.” Ryoma studied Takumi.
“The Case of Silence,” Takumi began, as though reading from a textbook, “is the name assigned to what appears to be a set of murders with similar features. The first feature is that all the victims have no signs of injury aside from a wound to the heart. Secondly, all victims have hollow sockets instead of eyes… thirdly coming from the fallen corpses mouth is always a single letter of the alphabet written in blood. The letters found to date are ‘Y, A, T, I, B, M, L, O, R, U, and E’ with each one appearing more than once. We feel that we were on the right track, seeing as the murders always happen close to where we are to some degree, but the serial killer as yet to be caught.” Takumi took a breath.
“So far, there have been 50 known deaths over the past five years. 10 each year this far.” Takumi closed his eyes. “Is there anything else you would like to know?”
“Suspects?” Ryoma inquired.
“There have been numerous suspects, but all have been cleared or have insufficient evidence to prove that they are the killer. Although… never mind,” Takumi cleared his head from the strange connection he had just made.
“Say what’s on your mind, Takumi,” Ryoma prodded.
“Well,” Takumi bit his lip, “the underground mafia organization, Nohr, did have a prominent information broker that was reported to be in the area of nearly every murder to date. Although, this information is not reliable and we rather not get tangled up investigating Nohrian scum. This type of murder is too crafty for those brutes to have orchestrated.”
“Nohr… hmmm,” Ryoma closed his eyes in thought. “Takumi the reason I called you hear today was to tell you that I want you to work with a broker from Nohr.”
Takumi almost fell out of his seat. “What!?” Millions of thoughts buzzed though Takumi’s head. He wasn’t being thrown away, which was great news, but on the other hand, he had to work with… a broker from Nohr?!
“Clam yourself, brother,” Ryoma kept his voice level. “I didn’t know that you had grounds to suspect Nohr on any level, but we were approached by the acting boss of Nohr. A few of their own have fallen victim to the Silencer and for the past two years, they have had their own agents investigating. I wouldn’t like to work with a group of shady criminals but… it might solve the case.”
No, not Nohr, Takumi wouldn’t work with them. “Are you forgetting what Nohr did to us! To our family! No, I refuse to work with such vile-“
“Enough," Ryoma declared with finality. “I wouldn’t want this either, I said. However, we both serve to gain from this. You told me you suspected Nohr, even if a few of their own died, I believe that you need to get closer to them to investigate. It’s a risky task, but are you up for it?”
Takumi turned his face away from Ryoma. The wounds upon Takumi’s heart were not healed. Blood filled his vision at the very thought of Nohr. They would be there.
“Takumi, you are one of the best detectives in the world. This is for the good of the people.” Ryoma pressed on.
Takumi disagreed with every word. He was not great and nothing to do with Nohr could ever help people.
“Fine, I’ll do it. I’ll work with and investigate Nohr.” Takumi leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed childishly. “The name of the man from Nohr that I suspect is named Leo Krakenburg. He is a man, crafty with words, is present near most of the murders, and would know how to cover up a crime. I know it’s not sufficient evidence but…”
“How odd… the man that is going to be sent to work with you is Leo Krakenburg.” Ryoma folded his hands, closing his eyes to reevaluate the turn of events; naturally, pushing the shock away in favour of being productive, like a great leader. “Great, you can work with him and investigate him at the same time. Don’t let your emotions toward Nohr cloud your judgment.”
Takumi released the tension in his fist with a deflated, “Yes brother.”
“You will meet with him tomorrow at The Valley for dinner at 7pm then,” Ryoma nodded. “You may leave.”
Takumi stood up with a polite nod and walked out the door. The moment he closed the door to his brother’s office he breathed out a muddled sigh and grabbed his hair in stress. He hadn’t been laid off the case, but things hadn’t exactly turned out well.
Investigate and work with Leo, from the vile underground mafia like organization of Nohr? Associate with Nohr, period? The Case of Silence made Takumi want to do nothing more than scream at this point.