“Are we finished here?” Takumi inquired, his voice steady but edged with the faintest hint of impatience as Zach’s team regrouped in the center of the grand living area. The soft lighting of the space, coupled with its immaculately curated decor, belied the tension lurking in the atmosphere.
Zach straightened, his gaze fixed on the papers in his hands before addressing the room. “The estate is extensive, Takumi. A thorough search would require several days at the very least. That said, based on my team’s preliminary report, no incriminating evidence has been discovered thus far. So far, so good.”
He paused, lifting his head to glance around the room with a measured air of authority. “However, this isn’t the end. We retain the right to continue our search, and I assure you, my team will return tomorrow.”
He gestured nonchalantly toward Sai and Dryzza, who stood at a slight distance, visibly affected by the opulence of their surroundings despite their best efforts to project an air of professionalism. Takumi could see their awe shimmering beneath the surface—expressions carefully schooled into neutrality but betrayed by the occasional dart of their eyes across the intricate carvings of the ceiling or the subtle gleam of priceless artifacts.
“Understood,” Takumi replied, his tone yielding, though his mind was anything but. He knew this temporary reprieve provided a narrow window of opportunity—a chance to regroup, to relocate Samantha if necessary, and to remove any trace of their secrets before Zach’s inevitable return.
As the officers began to disperse, Zach lingered near the center of the room, engrossed in the documents he held. Takumi’s sharp gaze flicked toward the papers, curiosity stirring at their contents, but his thoughts were elsewhere—anchored on the figure he had glimpsed moments before.
His peripheral vision had caught movement near the far end of the hallway. A faint, fleeting shadow that compelled him to turn his head, only to find the space empty. Yet the uneasy weight of being watched clung to him like a second skin, a reminder that in this house, secrets were never far from the surface.
Zach carefully arranged the papers in his hands, handing them over to Dryzza with deliberate precision. “So then, thank you so much for your cooperation, Takumi,” he said, offering a bow that, though polite, carried an undertone of mockery. Takumi returned the bow stiffly, his lips curling inward to suppress a surge of irritation. Despite the veneer of civility, a deep resentment for Zach boiled beneath the surface.
"I hope we continue to have a relationship like this—cooperation between an officer and—"
“Cut the melodramatic lines, Zach,” Takumi interjected, his voice low and edged with frustration. He wasn’t about to let this drawn-out charade go on any longer. The whole situation reeked of manipulation—a search warrant dressed up as some form of negotiation.
Zach chuckled, unfazed by Takumi’s terse interruption. “Very well.” His smirk was a quiet victory, knowing his presence had unsettled Takumi more than he let on.
Just as they were about to leave, a soft, unmistakable screech echoed through the hall, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. The sound was sharp, discordant, like nails on a chalkboard, and it reverberated with unsettling clarity.
“What was that?” Zach asked, his voice flat but tinged with curiosity as his eyes flicked toward the room from which the noise had come.
Before anyone else could respond, a man who had been standing nearby answered eagerly, his voice filled with an unsettling enthusiasm. “It seems to have come from the room where the home-hospitaled man is,” he said, clearly excited at the prospect of something—anything—worth investigating.
“It’s Tomoya,” Takumi interjected quickly, his voice sharp and cutting, his tone leaving no room for further inquiry. He could feel the pulse of his own anxiety as he watched Zach’s eyes narrow. The suddenness of his response had been too quick, too defensive, and Takumi knew it had drawn suspicion.
Zach narrowed his eyes, his expression hardened with doubt as he studied Takumi's demeanor. "And how exactly do you know that?" His voice was low, deliberate, carrying a challenge that bristled with unspoken accusations. The tension in the air was palpable, as if the room itself held its breath, waiting for Takumi's response.
Takumi, unfazed, met Zach's glare with a cool detachment. “Because he’s my cousin,” he stated plainly, his words cutting through the silence. “He’s staying here with me, and—” he gestured lazily around the room, “—this is my house.” His tone bordered on arrogance, though it was more unintentional than calculated, a reflection of his confidence in the script they had carefully crafted.
As he spoke, he turned slightly toward Dryzza and Sai, who had been mere spectators to the charged exchange.
“He’s not feeling well after the chaos last night,” Takumi continued, his voice softening slightly, as though the memory of the event lingered in his mind. “He collapsed while I was at the hospital, helping Theresa with her discharge.” A brief pause followed, his gaze flickering between them.
"But he looked quite well earlier," Dryzza spoke only to be answered with a shrug by Takumi.
"That kid never says anything unless it's too late. Let me check on him quickly.”
He turned without waiting for a response, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he walked briskly toward the room where Tomoya was supposed to be. In truth, it was all a bluff, of course—a carefully rehearsed part of the ruse. Every word, every movement, calculated to fit the narrative they had pieced together earlier.
As he disappeared down the hall, Sai’s voice broke the silence. “Can we see him, though?” His question was casual, almost too casual, as if testing the boundaries of Takumi’s story. He raised a single finger, a subtle gesture that belied the sharpness of his intent.
Takumi halted mid-step, his head turning slightly to acknowledge Sai’s query. Without a word, he gave a slow, deliberate nod, the flicker of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips before he resumed his stride. It was a calculated move, ensuring they remained tethered to the script.
The group followed, their footsteps echoing faintly as they trailed Takumi through the corridor. He remained a few steps ahead, his posture relaxed, though his mind worked furiously to maintain the charade.
When they reached the room, Takumi stopped abruptly, his hand resting on the doorknob. With a measured breath, he swung the door open only to be greeted by a sight not in plan.
“What the hell?!” Takumi’s exclamation echoed through the room, his surprise mirroring that of everyone else. Their gazes locked on Tomoya, who was crouched on the floor, fumbling with the stripped IV line that lay haphazardly at his feet.
Dryzza didn’t hesitate. She stepped in quickly, her movements fluid as she crouched down to assist him. However, before her hands could reach him, Tomoya raised a trembling hand to stop her, his expression laced with horror.
“S-Sorry,” he stammered, his voice unsteady. “I tripped… tried to get to the bathroom. My legs must still be weak from dehydration.”
Dryzza narrowed her eyes, studying him intently. From where she knelt, she caught the faint sheen on his face, as though he had just splashed it with water. Her gaze darted downward to his hand, where the snapped cannula dangled, and the faint trail of blood wept from the puncture.
Her attention shifted toward the bathroom door. Through the thin gaps, she noticed the light still on inside—a detail that didn’t escape her keen perception. “He’s already been in there,” she thought, her lips pressing into a thin line.
Tomoya seemed to sense her scrutiny. His composure wavered, and a nervous chuckle escaped him. “W-Why are you all here?” he blurted, clutching the IV line as though it were a lifeline.
“I… I just took a shit, okay? If you stick around, you’ll probably smell it. Not exactly pleasant, yeah?” He forced a laugh, though it lacked conviction, and his hands trembled as he attempted to shift himself onto the edge of the bed. Dryzza reached out to steady him, her touch firm yet gentle.
“They’re leaving,” Takumi interjected, his tone calm yet firm. He motioned for Sai and Zach to step aside, creating space as a nurse entered the room, her expression professional but slightly concerned. Without a word, she began preparing a fresh cannula to reinsert into Tomoya’s vein.
Tomoya’s entire body tensed at the sight of the needle. He loathed them—hated the sharp, invasive bite they inflicted. His mind screamed in protest, but he knew there was no escape. He clenched his jaw and averted his gaze, his hands gripping the edge of the bed to keep from shaking.
Yet his thoughts weren’t entirely consumed by the impending prick of the needle. His eyes flickered toward the bathroom, panic rising within him.
"Shane, stay still. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. Don’t let them see you."
The dim light seeping through the door’s cracks seemed ominously bright, as if threatening to betray their precarious situation. Any sudden movement inside could cast a shadow, a single misstep that would unravel everything.
The moment Zach, Sai, and Dryzza departed from the room, Tomoya’s eyes snapped to the nurse who was methodically cleaning the faint streaks of blood from his hand.
The sting of the antiseptic was nothing compared to the discomfort coursing through his veins from the freshly inserted cannula. He grimaced but said nothing, his focus divided between the sharp prickling sensation and the lingering echoes of the conversation that had just transpired.
The nurse worked silently, her professionalism offering no comfort. "Try to stay still," she instructed, her voice calm but firm. Tomoya gave her a curt nod, his mind racing. Every word, every glance exchanged during their visit played over in his head like a ticking clock.
Meanwhile, at the grand doors of the estate, Takumi stood with his hands resting casually in his pockets, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. Zach paused just short of the threshold, turning to face him with a polite smile.
"Thank you once again, doctor," Zach said, his tone now amicable, though there was an undertone of something more calculated beneath the surface.
Takumi’s expression remained unreadable. “Now that you’ve scoured the estate,” he began, his voice cool and composed, “what’s your plan next?”
Zach’s smile lingered, but there was a shift in his stance, a slight tightening of his jaw. “We still have a few more things to investigate,” he replied smoothly. “But just so you’re aware, this is all to clear your image with the higher-ups.”
Takumi let out a soft scoff, barely audible, but enough to make Zach falter slightly. “Oh, I highly doubt that’s your entire plan,” he said, his words laced with a calm menace that sent a chill through the air.
He shifted his gaze to Dryzza and Sai, who stood behind Zach, their shoulders stiff. “Considering that you broke into my parents’ estate without so much as a warrant,” he added, his voice sharper now.
Dryzza and Sai averted their eyes, the weight of his accusation hanging heavily between them. Guilt flickered briefly in their expressions before they masked it with forced indifference.
“But,” Takumi continued, his eyes narrowing as they returned to Zach, “Tomoya vouched for you. That’s the only reason I’m letting it slide this time.” His tone was icy, each word meticulously measured. “However,” he leaned in slightly, just enough to let his presence loom larger, “if I catch you pulling something reckless again, I’ll make sure the higher-ups you so desperately cling to handle it. And believe me, it won’t be to your benefit.”
For a moment, Zach didn’t respond. The grin on his face tightened into something forced, his mask of politeness beginning to crack. “Understood,” he finally said, his voice steady but void of its earlier warmth.
Takumi stepped back, his expression unchanged. “Good,” he replied simply, turning toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have actual work to attend to.”
The massive doors creaked open, and with that, they left, their footsteps fading into the crisp evening air.
Takumi moved with hurried steps back to Tomoya, who now stood motionless in front of the bathroom door. The nurse had left some time ago, leaving an uneasy stillness in the air. Takumi’s eyes immediately fell to the IV line taped to Tomoya’s arm, his brow furrowing in concern.
“Why’d you let her put another one back on?” Takumi asked, gesturing toward the IV, his tone more exasperated than accusatory. Tomoya, however, remained silent, his gaze locked firmly on the bathroom door as though transfixed by something unseen.
Takumi stopped a step behind him, noticing the way his cousin's entire body seemed to freeze. His shoulders were tense, his breathing shallow, and his normally sharp demeanor seemed dulled by the weight of something unspoken.
“You good?” Takumi asked cautiously, his voice softer now. “Your acting earlier… It surprised me. You were so natural, and the makeup—” he tried to diffuse the tension with a compliment, but his attempt was cut short when Tomoya abruptly turned to face him.
“She’s already woken up, nii-san,” Tomoya said, his voice unwavering, breaking through the fragile quiet with a statement that left no room for misunderstanding.
Takumi’s breath hitched, his eyes widening as he turned his attention toward the bathroom door. For a fleeting moment, his mind raced with disbelief and hope tangled together, but his instincts kicked in before hesitation could take root. He strode forward with urgency, placing a steady hand on the doorknob.
With a deep, grounding breath, Takumi swung the door open in one swift, calculated motion, his heart pounding in his chest. The sight that greeted him nearly stole the air from his lungs.
There, standing before him, was a figure that mirrored someone he thought was forever lost—a face so familiar it felt like time had momentarily warped. Their resemblance was indeed so uncanny, down to the smallest detail.
Takumi’s eyes locked with hers, a thousand emotions flooding through him in an instant. But questions surged at the forefront of his mind, unspoken but demanding answers: How is this possible? How is she up now when they all thought she's now truly just an empty vessel?
“Takumi,” she whispered, her voice soft yet weighted with emotion. The sound of his name on her lips was enough to send a shiver down his spine—a peculiar mixture of chill and peace coursing through him, settling deep within his soul.
For a moment, the world seemed to still around them. The faint hum of distant noises faded, and all that remained was the quiet resonance of her voice echoing in his ears. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in so long that it felt both foreign and achingly familiar, like the first note of a song he thought he’d forgotten.