Finally, Kanjuro's voice rang out again, carrying a playful smile as if he had seen through everything. He spoke slowly, each word like a hammer striking Akemi's heart:
"Oh? A private meeting... in such a 'beautiful' place..."
He deliberately dragged out his tone, and then, in a near-teasing yet cold and sharp voice, he asked lightly:
"Akemi, tell me honestly... could it be that someone is threatening you and forcing you to make this call?"
With a "buzz," Akemi Miyano felt her mind go blank, and the blood in her entire body seemed to freeze instantly! He knew? How could he possibly know?! A massive fear seized her, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Even the hand holding the phone shook so violently she almost dropped it.
Meanwhile, at the monitoring point, Shuichi Akai's eyes suddenly narrowed upon hearing Kanjuro's words, and a chill rose from his spine. This man was much more perceptive and terrifying than he had imagined. Before the trap was even fully set, the prey seemed to have already sensed something was wrong. On the other end of the line, Kanjuro's playful and scrutinizing question was like a cold needle, piercing through Akemi Miyano's barely maintained composure. She felt her heart nearly jump out of her chest, and an icy sensation like blood flowing backward instantly swept through her body. He knew? How could he possibly know?! The massive panic nearly suffocated her, and her mind went blank.
However, in that split second, the instinct to protect her sister Shiho (Shiho Miyano/Sherry) acted like a final, sturdy dam, forcibly holding back the fear that was about to burst. She pinched her thigh hard; the sharp pain gave her chaotic thoughts a brief moment of clarity.
"No... no," she tried to make her voice sound natural, even adding a hint of misunderstood, perfectly measured grievance and reproach, though the hand holding the phone was still shaking violently. "I've been doing quite well, really. No one is threatening me." She paused, and as if to add credibility, she softly added a sentence with an imperceptible plea, "Kanjuro-kun, don't overthink it."
A brief silence fell over the other end of the line, a silence that tortured Akemi's nerves like a slow execution. She could almost imagine the faint, mocking smile on Kanjuro's face right now, seeing through everything.
A few seconds later, Kanjuro's voice came again, still with that lazy tone as if nothing mattered, but the playfulness seemed deeper: "Fine," he replied lightly, as if the lethal question just now had only been a casual remark. "Since you've said so... then let's meet at the agreed-upon location."
"O... okay." Akemi Miyano agreed almost impatiently, fearing he might change his mind or ask another question she couldn't handle.
"Then... see you then." After Kanjuro finished speaking, he hung up the phone decisively, leaving only the "beep-beep" of the busy signal in the receiver.
Akemi Miyano felt as if all her strength had been drained. Holding the phone that felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, she slowly slid down to sit on the floor, leaning against the cold wall. Cold sweat had already soaked her thin back, and the hair on her forehead clung to her pale skin. She gasped for air as if she had just been pulled back from the brink of drowning, her eyes staring blankly ahead, filled with the daze of a narrow escape and a deeper worry.
The door to the safe house was pushed open, and the tall figure of Shuichi Akai walked in. He had clearly heard the entire conversation through the monitoring equipment, including Kanjuro's sharp questioning and Akemi's not-so-clever cover-up. He closed the door, walked over to Akemi, and looked down at her distraught state with a furrowed brow.
"He's suspicious." Shuichi Akai's statement carried no emotional color, as if he were analyzing a battle report.
Akemi Miyano did not answer; she only buried her face in her knees, her body trembling slightly.
Shuichi Akai was silent for a moment before suddenly asking a sharp question that broke the stagnation in the air: "Akemi, tell me honestly... at this point, you don't still harbor some inappropriate feelings for that demon, do you?"
Akemi Miyano's body stiffened abruptly, and she buried her face even deeper into her knees. She didn't look up or answer, but this voiceless silence was itself the clearest answer.
Looking at her like this, a complex and difficult-to-discern emotion flashed in Shuichi Akai's green eyes. He understood Akemi Miyano's inner struggle. To her, Shuichi Akai was a comrade-in-arms she could trust with her life, a rare friend with warm colors within the dark organization. And Kanjuro... he was the first boy to enter her closed heart when her feelings first bloomed, the only "light" she had captured in her bitter childhood—even if it was illusory, she had felt it truly—and a distorted, indelible first love branded deep in her soul. These two were never meant to be compared, nor could they be.
However, reality was cruel. Shuichi Akai took a deep breath and continued in a cold, hard voice, as if deliberately shattering her last bit of unrealistic fantasy: "You'd better wake up, Akemi. Look at the news, think about what he's done. He slaughters police, tramples on life, manipulates hearts—even someone like Inspector Megure... He is a complete monster now! The 'Kanjuro-kun' in your memory died a long time ago!"
Akemi Miyano remained silent, like a lifeless statue. Shuichi Akai's words were like knives stabbing her heart; she knew what he said was the truth—a bloody, undeniable truth. But the human heart is not simply black and white, especially when it involves such a complex and tangled past.
Seeing that she had no reaction, the irritability in Shuichi Akai's heart and his insistence on the priority of the mission made his tone even heavier: "This meeting is the only chance! You must ensure he doesn't cancel because of suspicion or increase his security! For Shiho's sake, you must..."
"Enough!"
Akemi Miyano, who had been silent all along, suddenly raised her head and interrupted him. Her face still bore tear stains, but her eyes held a near-numb calm—the exhaustion of someone who had given up struggling after being mentally and physically drained. She looked at Shuichi Akai, her voice soft but carrying an unquestionable finality:
"Shuichi, stop talking."
"I will go and meet him."
"I will do what I promised you and bring him to that place."
Her gaze drifted past Shuichi Akai, looking out at the thick night outside the window as if staring at a place far beyond reach. Her tone was ethereal and hollow:
"As for everything else... whatever you plan to do is your business."
"I... I can't handle it anymore."
After speaking, she lowered her head again, burying her face in her knees. She built an invisible wall with her silence, isolating herself from Shuichi Akai and all external sounds. She was like a small boat lost in a raging storm, swept up in the vortex of fate, helplessly sailing toward a tomorrow destined to be filled with storms and the unknown. Caught between friendship and responsibility on one side, and the tearing conflict of a twisted first love and blood ties on the other, this fragile woman had been pushed to the edge of collapse. The only thing she could do now was complete the act of 'meeting' him. As for whether the sky would fall or blood would flow after that meeting, she no longer had the strength or the courage to think about it.
Shuichi Akai looked at her fragile, curled-up figure and ultimately said nothing more. He turned, silently left the room, and gently closed the door. He knew that for Akemi Miyano, being able to go this far was already her limit. The rest could only depend on him and the cold sniper bullet that had long been ready. The journey to that secluded café by Tokyo Bay was shrouded in an oppressive silence. Shuichi Akai drove an unremarkable black sedan, weaving through the afternoon traffic. Through the rearview mirror, he could see Akemi Miyano staring out the window at the passing streetscape, her eyes empty as if her soul had already departed.
Ultimately, Shuichi Akai couldn't completely hold back. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. His voice was low and cold as he tried once more to pierce through Akemi's seemingly solid psychological defense: "Akemi, I hope you remember our purpose for this trip. The blood on Kanjuro's hands is enough to drag him to hell countless times. He doesn't have true feelings for anyone, including you..."
"I said, stop talking!"
Akemi Miyano snapped her head around, interrupting him. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a sharpness and exhaustion born of being pushed to a dead end. Her eyes were no longer hollow; instead, a flicker of cold fire ignited within them, stabbing directly at Shuichi Akai's eyes in the rearview mirror.
"I don't care what kind of person he is!" she said, emphasizing every word like icicles crashing onto the ground. "Mr. Akai, please stop trying to kidnap me with your so-called morality. Morality?"
She let out a scoff, a laugh filled with endless sorrow and mockery. "My parents died at the hands of the Organization. My only sister, Shiho, is currently missing and her fate is unknown, firmly controlled by the Organization. To me, those ethereal concepts have long lost all meaning."
Her voice trembled slightly but remained exceptionally clear, carrying a resolve that cut off all retreat: "The only meaning of my life is Shiho. As long as I can protect her, I'll do anything. Even if it means dancing with the devil, even if it means personally... pushing the last bit of warmth in my memory into hell."
She looked out the window again, turning her back to Shuichi Akai. Her voice dropped, carrying a trace of an imperceptible sob. "So, save your rhetoric. I only need to complete my mission. Everything else has nothing to do with me."
Through the rearview mirror, Shuichi Akai looked at her slightly trembling but straight back, finally understanding completely that any accusation regarding Kanjuro's crimes sounded hollow to her ears now.
In the world destroyed by the Organization, the clear boundaries between good and evil had long vanished, leaving only the singular obsession of 'protecting Shiho.' He pursed his lips, a complex emotion flashing through his green eyes before they settled into a calm coldness.
He spoke no more, simply pressing the accelerator deeper as the vehicle sped toward their destination.
After reaching the designated area, Shuichi Akai parked the car in a concealed spot. He took out an ordinary-looking lady's handbag, which hidden inside was a set of sophisticated communication and tracking equipment, and handed it to Akemi Miyano. "Keep the communication line open. According to the plan, guide him to the window seat." His instructions were concise and cold.
Akemi Miyano silently took the handbag without looking at him, merely nodding.
Shuichi Akai shouldered a long case disguised as an instrument box. His figure, like a ghost, quickly disappeared onto a path leading to a nearby hill that overlooked the entire café and its surrounding fields.
Left alone, Akemi Miyano took several deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart before stepping toward the café, which sat by the tranquil bay, surrounded by a sparse grove and open meadows.
She chose an outdoor seat with an excellent view and ordered a coffee, though she had no intention of tasting it. Her hands were clenched tightly under the table, her nails digging deep into her palms.
Time ticked by, every second feeling like it was pulling at her taut nerves.
Meanwhile, at the vantage point on the hill, Shuichi Akai lay prone behind a carefully camouflaged sniper nest like a solid rock.
He quickly opened the case and skillfully assembled the sniper rifle that represented death and finality. His long fingers adjusted the scope, the crosshairs slowly sweeping over the café's outdoor area before steadily settling on Akemi Miyano. Using her as the center, he calmly calculated wind speed and humidity, searching for any possible threats and the optimal sniping path for the intended target. His breathing became long and steady; the entire world in his eyes was condensed into the limited field of vision within the scope, waiting for the prey to appear.
Just then, in the distance on the other side of the café, on a path through the fields bathed in the slanting afternoon sunlight, a tall and slender figure approached slowly and unhurriedly.
He wore a well-tailored dark casual outfit, his posture so relaxed it was as if he were merely strolling in his own garden. The sunlight outlined his sharp, clean facial features, and a light breeze stirred the black hair on his forehead.
Akemi Miyano saw him almost immediately. Her heart felt as if it were suddenly seized by an invisible hand, and her breathing stopped abruptly.
Kanjuro's gaze crossed the significant distance between them, landing on her precisely and without deviation. That gaze was deep and calm, carrying an indescribable penetrating power, as if instantly stripping away decades of dust to reach the little girl who once hid in a corner needing his 'protection.'
Akemi Miyano stared blankly as he drew closer. Time seemed to undergo a strange folding at this moment. The blurred and reclusive boy from the depths of her memory slowly overlapped with the man before her—handsome to the point of being eerie, with a powerful and dangerous aura.
She had to admit that despite the fear, struggle, and the mission she carried, the moment she saw him, a thought she had suppressed deep in her heart surfaced uncontrollably—
He... was even more good-looking than the blurred youth in her memory. It was a beauty that transcended gender, blending elegance and danger, enough to take one's breath away. This realization made her already chaotic thoughts even more turbulent.
Up on the hill, Shuichi Akai clearly captured Kanjuro's figure through the high-powered scope. His finger rested lightly on the cold trigger, his eyes sharp as a hawk's, all his attention focused on the extremely dangerous man slowly walking toward the café.
The deadly stage was set, and all the actors were in place. The air was thick with the dead silence before a storm, along with a faint, almost imperceptible scent of blood.
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