Tanaka dropped the phone and slumped back on his chair. His heart was still pounding heavily. To say Oroshi had been upset was an understatement of epic proportion, and he realized he might not have survived delivering the news in person. But now that he had a chance to think about it, this wasn’t HIS fault. Not by a long mile. It was Oroshi who said Kaori was dead, not him! He was the hero in this story, it had been his initiative to track Ma?l’s passport in the first place, and his genius not to stop the tracking after the report of their so-called “death at sea.”

  OK, genius was perhaps overstated, but fortune was part of a man’s value, what mattered were results, and the fact was—without him, Oroshi wouldn’t have known his quarry was still alive and he could have been blindsided at the worst possible time. Instead, all thanks to his valiant efforts, Oroshi could catch Kaori and…

  He shoved the thought out of his mind, he didn’t want to know what Oroshi would do to Kaori, but he knew what he would do if he had Kaori in his possession. To think that woman might be a virgin still! He gazed longingly at Kaori’s picture still on the screen and grew hard. He unzipped his pants and began to caress himself as he stared at her lips.

  Maybe Oroshi would let him have her, after he was done. He beamed at the thought. He deserved a reward after all, and Oroshi was generous with his left-overs… He picked up the pace, moaning.

  Wait! What am I doing? Matsuki is still waiting in the limo!

  She wasn’t Kaori, true, but she was almost as pretty, and more importantly, she was here, available, her warm, wet mouth desperately longing for his hard member. And he was just sitting in his office, about to jerk off to a picture!

  Do I even need to be here at all? He wondered. Kaori was in Thailand. What was Japanese police going to do? Ask official cooperation to capture a girl who died officially in a warehouse fire? No, his role in this story was over.

  I’m free! He realized gleefully and rushed out the door, barely remembering to zip up his pants.

  Matsuki wouldn’t have to wait any longer, he was here!

  Takeru watched in puzzlement as Tanaka bolted out of the station looking positively elated. Both the action and the emotion felt so much out of character for Tanaka that he rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

  What the hell was going on?

  First, Tanaka barged in the station in panic when he was supposed to be out drinking. Then he locked himself in the crisis coordination office, the one meant to assist with finding poor Kaori. She was dead, what was he doing there anyway? Certainly not wrapping up paperwork at two in the morning, while half drunk.

  And now this.

  Calm down you fool! That’s the exact reason why you are at the desk in the middle of the night, waiting to answer a phone that won’t ring. And now you want to do what? Break into the coordination office? He rumbled to himself. This time, it won’t just be your career. You could go to jail for that!

  It was a fine, well thought-out argument. What did it matter anyway? Kaori was dead, he’d even seen the forensic report, and also watched a replay of Yuto’s show. No matter who had the right story, Kaori was dead as a door knob! He looked toward the office with a sigh.

  The door! It wasn’t closed! In his rush to leave, Tanaka left the door open!

  Takeru stared at the door, bewildered. There was absolutely no doubt something was wrong with this investigation, right from the start. Deliberately suppressing evidence, following a ridiculously artificial trail and committing one hundred percent of their resources into one area so out of the way that no kidnapper would ever chose it as an escape route, not in a million years… and of course demoting him for doing his job.

  He had to know, and the answer was right here, in that office. The door was wide open, beckoning him. And he was even alone in that section of the building!

  If he didn’t dare to find out the truth, what kind of policeman was he?

  He stood up, and checked the corridors. The entire floor was empty. Not a sound in the building. He walked back to his section and locked the door. If someone came in, they would have to find the keys or knock. He might get a reprimand, but they would only suspect him to be sleeping on the job, nothing more. After all, the entire section was scheduled to be taken down, and with Kaori dead, what could possibly be confidential about a solved kidnapping case?

  He pushed the door in and stepped into the office. The room’s walls were lined with computer screens. Tanaka’s work station was easy to find. His chair was the largest and was the only one not in its proper place. His computer was still running. He moved the mouse and the screen flickered to life, displaying a close-up shot of Kaori’s face, her mouth slightly opened, bewitchingly inviting. He glanced at the table. There was a box of tissues and a tiny bottle of hand cream lotion.

  His shoulders slumped. Tanaka had a very peculiar way to send off the dead. Was he really risking his career for that?

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He checked to make sure everything was exactly as he had found it and turned around.

  Wait! This didn’t explain anything. Tanaka had been unsettled, scared even, when he rushed in the office. Did he really come in at two am just to jerk off to a photo? Not likely. He glanced at the waste basket. It was empty. No tissue. The desk was clean, there was no trace of sweat on the chair.

  No. Tanaka did not come in to rub one off. That was just the last thing he was about to do, and he stopped before he did.

  He moved the mouse again and took a picture of the screen. He was going to need to dig deeper and he had to make darn sure he could put everything back in its place. He located the path to the picture—he’d have to bring it back up once he was done. He pulled himself another chair—didn’t feel like sitting into Tanaka’s—and got to work. Under Kaori’s photo, there was a different photo, a westerner with a broad, friendly face and even broader shoulders. A copy of his passport displayed his name: Ma?l Allaire. Next to it was a plane ticket to Bangkok. He checked the date. It was today, flying out of Kagoshima.

  Why was Tanaka interested in the man? Takeru thought. Somehow, he doubted his picture served the same purpose as Kaori’s. He sifted through the other files in the folder. There was a lot of stuff about this man. He was a judoka, he visited Japan often. His last arrival date was just a week ago… the night Kaori was supposedly kidnapped! He looked once more at the man. So that was the guy with Kaori. He took a photo of him and his passport.

  Might as well get the plane ticket too, he thought, bringing it up on screen. He lined up the shot, making sure the writing wasn’t blurry…

  What the…! There were two passengers on this plane ticket. Allaire Ma?l and… Megumi Aiko! Kaori’s friend, the owner of the boat… but she wouldn’t have been on the boat, would she? Then this had to be….He checked the date again, just to make sure. There was no mistake! She probably just landed in Bangkok.

  Kaori! She is ALIVE!

  He slumped back in the chair, staring at the screen, bewildered. Relief washed over him. He wasn’t a fan, not really, but Kaori was such a sweet girl, and she was a powerful symbol in Japan, a force for good. Her death had been a demoralizing blow to Japan’s pride: a foreigner had stolen her on the eve of her wedding and brutally murdered her after a week of abuse. Anti-foreigner sentiment was at an all times high, and politicians were ramping up isolationist rhetoric…

  He looked at the screen. She was alive and a foreigner was protecting her, when he, a police officer sworn to protect, had been sitting at his desk worried about offending his superiors!

  It was alright though. Now that Tanaka knew, it wouldn’t been long until she was found and rescued…

  His blood froze in his veins. Not rescued! People don’t act like Tanaka when they are trying to rescue someone.

  They are hunting her! He was sure of it, and there was nothing he could do, he didn’t have any resources…

  No. There was something he could do!

  He reached in his pocket, pulled out a little black business card. He hesitated for a moment before dialing the number. This is the only way.

  The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity, and he heard a click:

  “Tadaima denwa ni deru koto ga dekimasen. Hasshin…” Takeru hanged up. The person you are trying to reach is not… Figures, he thought looking at his watch. He was on the night shift, but why would anyone else be awake this late? More to the point, what did he expect would come from him, a police officer, calling a fan club for assistance in an investigation? Now that he thought about it, he realized how silly he had been.

  Then again, it’s not like he had any other option available. He sat back down with a sigh. He was getting too old anyway. Calling a fan… what the hell was wrong with him?

  His phone rang. He picked up out of habit.

  “Tell me,” the voice asked. No “Moshi Moshi,” “hello” or anything else. The man sounded listless, somewhere beyond exhaustion, pain or exasperation, and not one bit sleepy. The voice could have belonged to a robot from the 90s, before AI learned to imitate emotions.

  “Is this Takashiro Hotaru?” Takeru knew already, but he asked to give himself time to think.

  “Yes. And you are Fujiki Takeru, badge number KR-836. Why are you calling now?”

  The “now” was loaded with unspoken reproach.

  “Are you alone?” Takeru asked.

  “Yes.”

  And Hotaru hung up. Takeru looked at his phone dumbfounded. What the hell?

  His phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number. It contained a link, no explanations. He clicked and received a notification his phone was downloading an app. He looked for a button to cancel, but before he had a chance, the download had finished, and a message displayed:

  Do you want to install the following application: My Notes?

  His finger hovered the button Cancel, but he paused. Is that what I think it is? He clicked Install and gave the requisite permissions. The app started and his phone rang immediately in the new application. He picked up.

  “This is a secure peer-to-peer connection. If you are in a secure location, we can talk.”

  Takeru glanced around the office. It was still completely empty.

  “I think…,” he paused. This was his last chance to stop. What he was about to do would be considered espionage. He could be jailed for it. He took a deep breath.

  “Kaori is alive.”

  These three words had broken a dam of bottled emotions, and he spilled everything he knew, found, speculated or even thought of during the last week.

  At the other end of the line, Hotaru finally broke his silence.

  He was crying softly.