Chapter Text
March 1, 2016
Goro Akechi had a plan.
A simple, five-step plan.
- Find an apartment just far enough from the Diet Building to not arouse suspicion but close enough that he was a hop, step, and a jump away from easy surveillance.
- Grow closer to Masayoshi Shido, enough so to trick him into seeing him as an asset and not a threat.
- Get something to record Featherman with; he wasn’t going to risk being tracked by any of Shido’s hackers via his television set, so he’d have to make do with a CRT and a DVR.
- Eliminate all obstacles in the way of Shido’s electoral victory, playing into section two of the plan.
- Strike when Shido’s guard is at its lowest, the night after his victory is confirmed.
It was clear, he thought, staring at his phone as he walked out of his apartment.
It was calculated, he mused, as he made a beeline for the other end of the hall.
It was—
WHACK!
“— entirely my fault,” the girl apologized, bowing so rapidly that Akechi was reminded of one of those novelty drinking birds. “I didn’t realize someone was walking past the door!”
Goro, nursing a bruise on his forehead with a pack of ice—and sitting in an unfamiliar living room—, offered a winning smile. He vaguely recognized the girl, with her blonde hair flowing out on either side (only held together by a pair of lightning-bolt hair clips, and only on the front) as his newest neighbor. Her school uniform was unfamiliar; a black cardigan with red accents throughout, a bright red tie, and checker-patterned skirt. He certainly wouldn’t have picked the orange high-tops to go along with it, personally. “I’d say it’s more the architect’s fault for building the doors to go outward rather than inward.” If it weren’t going to be suspicious as hell, you’d be walking in front of traffic by morning…
“I’ve got to make it up to you!” The girl raised a palm, slamming a fist into it with a determined look. “And I know just how to fix an achy noggin!”
A lobotomy? “What would that be, ma’am?”
“A heaping helping of okonomiyaki!”
Goro closed his eyes and took in a breath, considering the offer. He hadn’t had okonomiyaki in a while, let alone anything but takeout sushi—perhaps he’d indulge on someone else’s dime for once. “That sounds rather lovely—but I’ll have you know, I don’t run cheap when it comes to good eats, miss…?”
“Hibiki Tachibana! Age 17!” Goro blinked as the girl held out her hand. “Usually I have a whole speech, but I bet you’re hungry, so we’ll save it for later!”
He grasped her hand, briefly, and tried to ignore the hum of curiosity coming from Loki. “I see. A pleasure, Miss Tachibana. Goro Akechi,” he began, preparing for the inevitable gasp of recognition.
Instead, all he saw was a smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Go!”
“Wh—” Goro sputtered. “Mr. What? ”
“Well, you seemed to be in a hurry!” Hibiki grinned, placing her hands on her hips. “So, you’re Mr. On-The-Goro Akechi—Mr. Go for short.” Her grin faltered a little bit at the confusion on his expression ( and isn’t that rare, his Persona hissed in the back of his mind). “Sorry, I—I like nicknaming; there’s this girl I know, Chrissy—” She paused, glancing aside. “Sorry,” she repeated. “Maybe that’s a bit too familiar…”
“...is…you really don’t know me?” Goro asked, a baffled tone coloring his words.
“Should I?” Hibiki gasped, putting her hands to her lips. “You’re right! I should’ve introduced myself last week, when I moved in! I’m sorry, it’s just—there’s been a lot going on, and I don’t really know the area, and I only just found a good place for oko—”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Goro assured her. “I’m just…something of a known quantity, locally. You’ve heard of the Detective Prince, surely?”
Hibiki blinked, blank-faced. “Is that a spin-off of Lightning Detective Ban?”
“...I…what’s that, exactly?” Goro asked.
“Only the greatest show on television!”
…oh. Oh, she was going to have to learn.
“Perhaps we can discuss it on the way?” Goro offered.
“Sure!” Hibiki skipped over to her door, opening it wide. “Okay, so, it’s the first platform at the Yongen-Jaya station…I think…?”
“You know where you’re going,” Goro asked, “Or should I bring up a map?”
“Don’t worry,” the girl replied, raising a fist into the air. “I got this! Onward!” With that, she made for the stairs, her footsteps echoing for a moment before— “You still coming?”
“Yes, yes.” She’s going to be a handful…
March 4, 2016
“This is what you call training?” Goro raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t taken Hibiki for the type to engage in any sort of martial arts, but she had insisted he join her for a bit of exercise at a nearby gym. It would be more accurate to call it a hole in the wall, nestled in a pocket not too far from his apartment. It seemed to have at least some visitors, but not enough to rival the bigger one in downtown Shibuya.
If he was being honest, most of the time Goro avoided the gym entirely, if only to dodge the paparazzi. He’d had enough ‘Detective Prince Gets Swole’ headlines for a lifetime the last time he went—and that was just to meet with a client.
…though, it helped that Hibiki—in her ongoing attempt to make up for the Door Incident—had given him some inconspicuous gym clothes as a gift.
Inconspicuous in the sense that if anyone saw Goro Akechi wearing them, they’d presume it was a lookalike, because Goro Akechi would never wear a Featherman tank top.
It’s kind of her to remember, I suppose…
In any case, he expected to start with a warm-up, or perhaps—depending on her experience—some katas or forms. There was a punching bag nearby, so possibly some boxing? He couldn’t help but be slightly curious.
When she walked out of the girls’ locker room with a television set far too large for a girl her size to carry (and with nary a look from the regulars—was this a common thing for her?), his curiosity only grew.
Hibiki put the television down on a stand, letting out a sigh of relief. “Yep! My Master taught me the best way to learn something new is to watch the experts!”
Goro’s eyes fell upon the DVD copy of Rocky balanced precariously atop the television—which, coincidentally enough, had a built-in DVD player attachment. “I would presume he meant… real people, perhaps?”
Hibiki shook her head. “Nope! I wasn’t really an action movie person before I started training, but his method really works—and the movies are fun too! Hope you don’t mind dubs—the Japanese subs are helpful, but man, do they give me a headache.”
“Riiiiight.” He did mind, in fact, but he wasn’t going to get into an argument right now—it wasn’t worth it. “So… you just…” Goro held his hands up, in a faux boxing position. “Fake it till you make it, then?”
“There’s no faking here! We learn from the screen, but we bring it to reality!” Hibiki’s beaming smile was so sincere, Goro realized in horror, that she truly believed what she was saying. “The owner here doesn’t mind if we watch so long as the volume’s low,” she continued, plugging the television into a power outlet, “After we finish, we can get to practicing!”
“Wouldn’t it be more efficient to simply watch the fight sequences?” Goro offered, glancing at his watch. “After all, while my day is free, it’s possible I might be on call with the police at any time.”
Hibiki slumped, and Goro felt instinctively like he’d just kicked a kitten. “Well, sure—but I think it’s important to understand why someone fights, and why they are the type of person they are. In the movie, I mean,” she added, hastily. “For me, at least, it helps in fully grasping the techniques used by the characters. If you want, we could try it with Featherman next time?”
Goro snorted. “I have more personality traits than Featherman, I’ll have you know…but,” he admitted, “If this… ‘method’ of yours proves useful, then perhaps I’ll consider it.”
“Sure!” Hibiki reached for the TV, manually powering it on. Goro snagged a nearby chair and settled in for the next…
“How long is this film, exactly?”
“You’ve never seen it?!”
“I’ve heard of it. I don’t usually watch too many movies outside of detective dramas.”
Hibiki grinned, taking a seat on an exercise mat. “Oh, we’ve got a lot to work on with you.”
Goro sighed. “The runtime, if you will?”
“Two hours.”
This is going to be a long day.
March 9, 2016
Goro was finally able to feel his fingers again. That was nice, after four days of straining to hold as much as a pencil in his hand. To tell the truth, he didn’t dislike the numbness—it had given him a good excuse to take a sincere, no-holds-barred day off for once—but he wished that Hibiki would have been a little less… excited to counter his punches blow for blow. It felt less like training and more like wrestling with a rabid wolverine.
You had fun, Loki teased.
I did no such thing.
I could see the battle-lust in your eyes.
You’re literally inside me; you can’t see shit.
Goro was grateful nobody else had to suffer Loki’s impertinent giggle fits.
The sound of his door being knocked upon echoed through the apartment. Putting on his best, fakest smile, Goro approached the door. “Who is it?”
“Uh… hi, Mr. Go! It's Hibiki!” Goro was glad the door was closed, lest she see the flicker of a grimace on his face. “I was wondering if you had a minute?”
Goro sighed, scratching the side of his neck. No, but you’ll take my time anyway. “Of course. One moment.”
Reaching the door, he took a quick look through his peephole.
Hibiki Tachibana was, in fact, in front of his door—unfortunately for him, just far away enough that the door wouldn’t so much as push her back. Shame.
Standing next to her was what he could only assume was a policeman, with a scraggly beard, a gray dress shirt, a bright red tie, and a look that read as utter frustration.
…what.
“Miss Tachibana,” he began, opening the door wide, “And a fellow man of the law, I presume.”
“Mm.”
“Ehehe…”
“To what do I owe the… unexpected pleasure? I was under the impression you were at school.”
“One would think that this city's kids would be at school right now, certainly,” the officer replied. This city's…? “Spotted her staring at a food truck like it was divine. Brought her to a station, and it looks like she’s not actually in the systems for either Kousei or Shujin, or anything else for that matter. At least, in Tokyo, according to—nevermind,” he said, cutting himself off. “She claims she goes to some place called Lydian, but I couldn’t find it on any map app. She said she lived here, and that you could vouch for her.”
“...is that so?” Goro’s eyes fell upon Hibiki, who looked as though she was in quite the tizzy. I didn’t take her for a school skipper…where’d the uniform come from if this ‘Lydian’ isn’t nearby?
“I-I’m telling the truth! Lydian is—is waaaaaaaay outside of Tokyo, like, super far away. I just, it’s… it’s a small place, and I…” Hibiki sighed, twiddling her thumbs nervously as she looked between the officer and Goro. “I may have… run away to live on my own, for reasons I promise make sense!”
…
“I’m sorry, what?”
Hibiki let out a startled yelp. Hrm. That was not meant to be vocal.
The officer sighed, glancing at Goro with a wary expression. “I recognize you from TV, Mr. Akechi, so I was a little suspicious when she claimed she actually knew you—are you acquainted?”
“As much as new neighbors can be,” Goro admitted.
The officer shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know how she convinced the landlady to give her an apartment —”
Goro thought back to his own interactions with the owner of the complex; how insistent she was that he stay, with incredibly low rent offers, and that stupid, kind smile. “She’s a very… sincere soul,” he offered.
The officer scoffed. “I’ll take your word for it. I really should be arresting her right now, and dragging her back home…” Hibiki wrapped her arms around herself, staring in fear at the officer. His expression softened. “...that said,” he continued, turning to Goro, “I’d be willing to offer a bit of leniency, if she had a guardian keeping her in line, ensuring she either was in school or otherwise educated at home, so on and so forth…”
He glanced at Goro, expectantly.
“...”
Goro looked at Hibiki, who looked back at him with as much befuddlement as he did to her.
“Is that a no?”
“...” I have to keep up appearances. If word got out that the Detective Prince turned away a brat in need… “Certainly,” Goro replied, smiling softly at Hibiki. Her eyes widened, and he could visibly see her stress vanish in an instant.
“Good. Get paperwork going. It'll keep this from happening again. As for you…” He glared down at Hibiki. “Either get him to sign you up for school, or get a job as soon as possible. Not everyone will be so kind in this city, so if you're avoiding education entirely, you need to prove you're working.”
Hibiki offered a salute. “Sir, yes sir, affirmative, your sir-ness!”
The officer rolled his eyes, patting Goro kindly on the shoulder, who tried to not immediately smack it away. “Keep her out of trouble, and try not to get into any trouble yourself.” The man sighed, crossing his arms. “Then again, if you’re taking on her title, trouble might come for you.”
“Pardon me, but what do you mean by that, Officer…?”
“Dojima. It’s nothing you should be worried about. Yet,” he added, in a low mutter. “Just reach out to Naoto Shirogane if you need insight on how to handle the fame, or the work. Tell her you’ve got a referral from me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my work—keep safe, kids.” With that, the officer walked down the stairwell. Akechi could catch bits of a conversation below—
“You know, you’re a big softie.”
“Yeah, Dad! What was that about ‘picking up strays?’”
“Knock it off, you two. She’s just lucky someone on-duty didn’t catch her…”
…Loki.
Hm?
If you laugh, I swear to all that is holy, I will douse my brain in so much alcohol that neither of us will function for a week.
By all means, feel free. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—
March 12, 2016
“I will not question your history.” Because I can’t find it, despite the resources at my command. “I will not force you to answer anything.” Because you are exceptionally skilled at dodging questions. “I will not demand anything of you.” Because it’s more trouble than it’s worth, when I’m so close to my goals, and you seem… less than inclined to interfere. “All that I ask, is that if you do not intend to attend any sort of schooling, that you do me a few favors when you’re not at your part-time jobs.”
Hibiki nodded, though—to her credit—she looked a little wary. “O-okay…?”
Good. She knows not to trust me unequivocally. She’s smarter than she looks. And she had to be, given that she had—somehow—appeared to scrub any bit of her existence from public record. The only Tachibanas he’d been able to find were in a rinky-dink suburb in the Fukuoka prefecture, and no school named Lydian appeared to be in operation anywhere near there… or anywhere, it seemed; perhaps she used a fake school name to further obscure the truth? It was, after all, rather unique—most schools did not take their names from musical terminology (outside of cheap, meant-for-children after-school programs), versus the names of musicians themselves. “I didn’t take you for the crafty type,” he muttered aloud.
“Huh?”
“Pay me no mind,” Goro replied. “In any case, the favors aren’t going to be anything untoward, I assure you—I just have a lot of responsibilities to both my own schooling and my detective work, so I need someone to handle household chores and, on occasion, serve as my representative if I can’t make it to a case. That last one will be a rarity, but it might be necessary. Are you comfortable with that?”
Hibiki nodded again. “Uh, sure! I think I can figure out how to be detective-y. Maybe not Prince-y, but…”
“No need to worry in that regard; I wouldn’t leave an amateur in charge of an investigation. You’d be closer to a gofer, providing my reports and other documentation or messages when I can’t make it. I’ll have an ID badge printed for you with the Prosecutor’s Office; I have a contact over there, and it’ll give you carte blanche to wander as you please…” His eyes narrowed. “Not that you’d stray off the beaten path?”
“No sirree, not me!” Hibiki’s smile looked extremely forced. Goro sighed.
“I’ll have my contact take you on a tour, if you like.”
“Nice!” Now it felt more natural. Then, with a nervous chuckle, Hibiki added, “I’m a little more concerned about cleaning, to be honest.”
“Why’s that?” Goro asked. “No experience in janitorial?”
“Janiwhatnow?”
“...it’s a fancy word for cleaning, Miss Tachibana.”
“Oh! No, I’m fine with it! I just…” A faraway look came and went. “I’ve had experience with… very messy rooms, so I hope it’s not too much of a—”
“—horror! Horror and terror! Death incarnate!”
“It’s not that bad!” Goro snapped, trying to fight the blush of embarrassment on his face.
“Mr. Go,” Hibiki gravely intoned, “If I walked in here, I would’ve thought you had like… a kaiju-scale fight with someone!” Goro tried, desperately, to think of a rebuttal, but then he caught sight of the clothes strewn across the floor, the stacks and stacks of documents, and the three piles of ramen noodle cups in the corner—and clearly, so did Hibiki, given her guttural scream. “Where do you keep your trash bags?!”
“...under the sink.”
“Why don’t you use them?!”
“I’m not often in my room,” Goro drawled. “This is where I sleep. Not where I really live. Weekends are a rarity—I tend to just sleep and go, a lot of the time.” Come to think of it, you made me lose one of those weekends just last week…
“It takes a few seconds, at most, to toss something in—” Hibiki slapped the sides of her face, a smack echoing through the room. Goro took a startled step back. “No time to panic! Operation Save Mr. Go From a Ramenvalanche is… er, go!”
“Operation what?! ” The words had barely left his mouth before Hibiki, moving with a speed he could only describe as superhuman, darted to his sink and began her crusade against clutter.
…well, I suppose it saves me the cost of a maid.
“A-achoo!” Sadayo Kawakami put down her fishing rod and rubbed at her nose. “Ugh. Probably a cold. I need that like I need a hole in my head, but I’ll manage...”
Goro watched, fascinated, as Hibiki hoisted multiple bags of garbage down the stairs. He’d have offered to assist, but he was wearing his ‘work clothes’, so he wanted to avoid any risk of spillage or stains. He tugged at his newest addition to his wardrobe—a dark-orange scarf, gifted to him by some fashion designer he did a private shoplifting investigation for. It had been buried under a pile of books and empty carry-out cases, discovered by Hibiki during her efforts. She said it would make him look ‘spiffy,’ and pointed out that it was pretty chilly for March. After having her literally dig out his apartment from its ruinous state, the least he could do was pretend to wear it before he was out of her eyeshot. “I have to say, I’m impressed. You work like a professional—you even organized my case files.”
“Well, a detective should keep those in one place!” Hibiki hopped off the last stair and quickly made for the nearby trash drop off, letting the bags clatter to the ground as she arrived. She began to move the bags between the burnable and the non-burnable dumpsters, as if it were a Tetris game and she were some sort of grandmaster. “You never know when you might get to turn them into a book!”
“A book,” he repeated, bemused. “I’m certain that’s not in the cards. My cases aren’t especially glamorous—they just… have a higher success rate than most.”
Hibiki harrumphed. “Don’t be so sure. Hey, it could be a TV show instead, or a manga! Like that one, Detective Conan the Barbarian!”
“...I think you have some wires crossed, Miss Tachibana.”
“Huh? I didn’t find any loose wires…”
The salt of the earth, this one. “How’d you get so good at this?” he asked. “Messy family and friends?”
Hibiki paused as she pushed the last bit of trash down, stepping back from the dumpsters entirely. “Well…”
She closed her eyes.
“Hibiki, dear, you don’t always have to do this. You could cut yourself on the glass, or slip on something. We can call someone; the settlement from the concert covers damages caused by bad faith actors.”
“You and Grandma need that money, Mom. It’s the least I can do, anyway.”
“Hibiki…”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
“Miss Tachibana?”
Her eyes snapped open, and she turned back to face Goro. “It’s, uh, just something I picked up from cleaning up after my classmates! I was usually the last one out in middle school, so…y’know!”
“...right,” Goro replied, cautiously. He adjusted his scarf, really taking the accessory in for the first time—it didn’t quite mesh with his gray peacoat, but it offered a bit of flair.
“I think it looks cool!” Hibiki said, in apparent answer to a thought he certainly didn’t have.
…it could work, he supposed.
“Well, thank you for finding it,” Goro replied. “I should be off, now—I’ll probably be back late.”
“No problemo!” Hibiki offered a thumbs up. “I’ll hold down the forts!”
“...it’s usually ‘fort.’”
She shrugged. “If I’m your ward now, we technically have two apartments.”
Point taken. “Frankly, I’m surprised you know the word ‘ward’.”
“It’s what Robin is to Batman!” Hibiki grinned, crossing her arms. “You’d probably be more of a Detective Gordon. Can’t imagine you with a mustache, though.”
Goro definitely, certainly didn’t bark out a laugh at that.
Loki did, however, and for that Goro was going to find the nearest bar when this night was over.
It didn't matter what his age was. He had his ways, Loki be damned.
March 21, 2016
Goro took his seat at the booth, waving off the Bikkuri Boy waitress with a quick, “One coffee, please.” He sighed deeply as he opened up his case files. He needed to look busy, so he began flipping through the papers with one hand, muttering under his breath…
…while operating the Meta Nav with his other hand, tapping it repeatedly as he offered his phone keyword after keyword.
A hit had come in—a train driver. It seems some CEO and a diplomat had it in their heads to try to force Shido out of his position, with information that came from a leaker—Goro had already seen to that, so it wouldn’t be an issue going forward.
Those two took the same train every day, so it would make sense if they seemed to perish in a completely random train crash. “Couldn’t be helped,” the news would say. This should have been a Mementos job, with next-day train-to-subway-wall delivery, but the driver of that particular route apparently thought very highly of himself. A low-level Palace had formed, meaning Goro would actually have to put effort into this. A waste of his time, but it at least meant he could possibly get a small pay-day from beating up Shadows.
In any case, a train going off the rails wouldn’t have been his first idea—they could easily have been killed and made an example of in a more visible setting. Shido wished for both subtlety and an avenue for his future gains, however. If it caused chaos, it made Shido look good for stating the obvious: that the chaos needed to be stopped, and by God himself, Shido was the one to put a stop to it.
Nevermind that a Prime Minister generally isn’t expected to actually stop things like train accidents, car crashes, and the like—they’re not Superman. A Prime Minister is expected to look proud, smart, and not piss off any constituencies lest there be hell to pay. Not to mention the foreign affairs aspects of the role—Goro didn’t even know if Shido spoke English , let alone Spanish or French or whatever other languages kept the international community at bay.
Hell, he’d be surprised if Shido would even be able to so much as be allowed to breathe without the Diet’s approval.
He wasn’t going to tell that to Shido, however. Let him think he knows how politics work.
Either he’d learn, or he’d be right, and Goro had the distinct feeling that—if he didn’t take action, at least—that the Detective Prince wouldn’t be around to make these observations personally come election night.
“Hey, Mr. Go!” Goro sighed, ignoring the chittering from Loki in the back of his mind, as Hibiki walked up to the booth. She was still wearing her yellow apron, so she must have just gotten back from… what was it called again? Rafflesia? Or was that the name of the bookstore? She’d wound up in so many part-time jobs, it was hard to tell which were which.
“Good afternoon, Miss Tachibana,” Goro replied. “Did you just get off the clock?” She nodded, taking the seat across from him—uninvited, but Goro couldn’t claim it was unwelcome. After a couple of weeks, he’d settled into the idea of having a ward—even if, technically, they were the same age—and taking some time during the week to exercise with her, watch and discuss television, and even impart some detective teachings was a great distraction from all the wanton murder conspiracies horrible things he did the day-to-day. Not that he’d say that out loud—if she wanted to see him as this suave, calm detective, it just wouldn’t do to break that mask with something as vile as emotion. Ugh.
“Mhm! Grabbing a bite here, and then I’m heading over to Big Bang Burger!” The waitress returned, side-eyeing Hibiki at her exclamation ( I suppose there’s no love lost with the Okamura Corporation here, Goro thought), and Hibiki quickly shrunk into her chair with a nervous giggle as she set down the coffee. “S-sorry. Could I get some water and the chocolate chip pancakes?”
“Oh, those sound good—I’ll have them as well,” Goro added as he looked at his own drink. The sugar will kill me, but I deserve something for a job this mundane.
“Of course.” The waitress departed, and Hibiki immediately leaned forward on the table. “I told you about Haru, right? She’s helping me with some of those workbooks you gave me today!”
“I see,” Goro replied. He was well aware of the scion of the Okumura family. How Hibiki befriended her was beyond him, but it was good for establishing connections (or alibis) as needed. “It’s good to know that you’re taking your self-studies seriously. Even if you don’t want to go back to your school—”
“I do! Someday.” Hibiki glanced down, repeating, “Someday.”
“Well, until that someday comes, you should still be learning… and, hopefully,” he added, “Getting better grades, even if they won’t go on a record.”
“I’m tryinnnnnnng,” Hibiki whined, laying the side of her head on the table. “Math just sucks. History’s neat, but it leaves out cool stuff—teachers only ever want to talk about the same five things.”
“Name them.”
Hibiki paused. “...I don’t wanna.”
“Right.” Goro’s customer service smile returned as the waitress dropped off Hibiki’s drink and their food—Hibiki was practically salivating at the sight of the pancakes. With a nod, the woman moved along to other customers. “You seemed to enjoy the workbook on Music Theory,” Goro pointed out, quickly making work of his coffee as Hibiki considered his point. “Despite your abysmal scores on the back-of-book tests.” Hibiki grinned sheepishly in return.
“Well yeah, but who randomly gives tests on music in real life? Shouldn’t music be the test?”
“...well, I wouldn’t know,” Goro conceded. “You’re the experienced one, from what I’ve heard. Though,” he added, leveling a dry glare, “I’d prefer if I didn’t hear it in the middle of the night. I understand you work late sometimes, but I already hear your shower through the walls—I’d rather not hear a pop concert alongside it.”
Hibiki sat up, chided. “Ehehehe. Sorry.”
“Just a note for the future.” As she brought the cup to her lips, he added, “What are those lyrics, anyway? They’re not from a song I’ve ever heard.” He put his free hand to his chin, eyes closed in thought—and unable to see Hibiki freeze, mid-sip, a look of terror on her face. “‘Resound with the beat of my heart, into the future we find…’ Quite a hopeful statement. Did you write it all yourself? I’ve also been wondering… Lydian is such a specific name for an academy, especially here in Japan. I’m not sure if you’re aware—I wouldn’t want to presume,” he continued, clocking the distinct sound of rattling teeth against a glass cup, “But the word ‘lydian’ comes from a specific musical scale—”
With a quick, massive gulp of water, Hibiki slammed the cup back down. Goro’s eyes snapped open from the sudden noise. “Hey, those pancakes sure look tasty!” Like a marooned man seeing fresh food for the first time in years, she began to devour her stack of fluffy delights. “I gotta— chomp! —have this quick and— chompchomp! —get to Big Bang! Can’t keep Haru— chompchompchompchomp! —waiting for too long!”
He nodded, trying to avoid the eyes of the other patrons and even wait staff as they watched the horror show before them. “I… yes, of course—I’ll leave you to it. I have a case to wrap up, myself, so I should probably get to work.”
“Oh, yeah, for sure!” With one last bite, Hibiki polished off the plate, letting out a satisfied sigh. “That’s good eats!” Digging into her pocket, she slammed down a few bills on the table—Goro vaguely noticed that it was three times the cost of her order. “Well, gotta jet, have fun Mr. Go, see you later!”
“Miss Tachibana—”
“Byeeeee!”
She was out the door before he could finish his sentence. All eyes now fell upon him. With another practiced smile, he scratched the back of his head. “She’s a bundle of energy,” he chuckled. “Not much in the way of social skills, but we all have our days, right?”
A few murmurs sifted through the crowd, but most eventually went back to their meals. The waitress returned, with a much larger cup of coffee on her platter. “You look like you need it,” she explained. “I didn’t realize the Detective Prince had such an… excitable apprentice.”
“...she’s… not my apprentice.”
A twinkle appeared in the waitress’ eye. “Oh?”
Goro’s own eye twitched. “...not that either, and I’ll thank you not to presume.”
“As you wish.”
Goro decided, at this moment, that he could not step foot within the walls of Bikkuri Boy for at least another month.
…he’d make it two, just to be safe.
April 10, 2016
This day had been an utter shitshow, and Goro could find nobody to blame, so he supposed God would be a fitting person to damn in this moment.
He’d done his work—the Palace had been easy pickings, but agonizing to maneuver, given its subway-themed design was even more arcane to figure out than Mementos itself—the driver had trouble reading his own maps sometimes, and that reflected in labyrinths and dead ends.
By the end of March, he had made it to the end, ensured a shutdown would occur with Loki’s powers the instant he walked into the treasure room, and returned home just in time for that week’s Lightning Detective Ban.
He was surprised to find that the show was real, as it sounded too ridiculous to exist the way Hibiki described it; “A cop drama with superhero action and meaningful but heartbreaking character arcs”, he recalled. But, it seemed to have begun its run some months before, airing at a time he usually had gone to sleep by. Since meeting Hibiki, however, he’d found himself making the show the cap to his day. Sometimes he would watch it by himself, and sometimes Hibiki would make herself extremely comfortable in his home—
“How did you even get in here?!”
“The landlady gave me a key to help make sure you keep clean!”
“Oh, for the love of—”
—and watch the episode with him before returning to her apartment. She was an… interesting person to watch television with, given her propensity for acting out the action as it occurred, and her surprising wealth of… trivia , so to speak.
“Oh, that’s absolutely computer-generated.”
“How do you know?”
“Buildings don’t break like that.”
“...again, how do you know?”
“Reasons.”
It was probably something with her so-called “Master,” again.
In any case, without realizing it, the show had joined Featherman in Goro’s weekly rotation for every new episode, and he had been catching up on reruns on weekdays—it was, surprisingly, rather thoughtful for a series about repeatedly punching criminals in the face.
…he really needed to stop thinking about television when there were other problems at hand, but by hell below and heaven above, he did not want to think about those.
The train crash had occurred, but nobody died—a miracle, given that even without his influence, the tracks had been degrading for years —but kept intact just long enough to not send the train cars spinning into the platform.
There was also a strange rumor that had begun floating around shortly after the crash—of a girl, clad in gold and white, standing on the tracks and holding the subway cars back just long enough to keep them from flying off the rails. Of course, that was clearly little more than the usual Shibuya urban legend machine whirring to life, much like the tales of mysterious Reapers and their game of life and death, or dullahans on motorcycles zipping through the streets.
Goro had no time for flights of fancy. He’d been raked over the coals by Shido for his failures, ordered to make sure the next hit went off smoothly—lest his head be next. He tried to butter up to Prosecutor Nijima when she approached him for insight on the crash, but that somehow ended up turning into an impromptu therapy session when he made the fatal error of referencing an episode of Lightning Detective Ban as part of an analogy. It seemed Nijima’s sister was a fan, herself, and the prosecutor took the opportunity to complain about the difficulties of raising her alongside her career.
He knew better than to mention his own familiarity with that particular matter. They’d be there all night.
So it came to pass that, after a night of failure and lackluster conveyor belt sushi, Goro walked up the stairs to his apartment in a daze. He heard Hibiki before he saw her, with a familiar tune wafting through his ears. “When the call comes in, I can feel it in my heart—burning like justice in my soul!” He sighed, pausing and leaning against the wall at the top of the stairwell. “Like a bolt from the blue, I know what I must do. The game is af —oh, Mr. Go!” Hibiki waved as she reached the top step, smiling brightly. Her uniform indicated a shift at the bookstore today, though it looked a little worse for wear—scraped up and dirty. “How’s it going?”
“Could be better,” he admitted, “But I’ll survive. How about yourself?”
“Eheheh. Well, pretty much the same. There was this really, really weird accident that—”
Goro felt his heart stop for a moment. “Wait—you were there?”
“Oh, you heard…” Hibiki nodded, her smile breaking a little as she tapped the side of her leg nervously. “Y-Yeah! I was—I was there. I was heading to work, and then the train started s-shaking—I was in the back, so nothing really happened besides that, but it was super scary!”
Goro bit his lip. He wasn’t quite sure what this… weird sensation was, but he didn’t like it. “That’s… well, I can’t say anything about that is fortunate, but it’s fortunate that little more occurred.”
She nodded, holding her left arm with a wince. “Mhm! Landed on my arm, but it’s just been a little sore—I should be good to go by tomorrow!”
“I… I see,” Goro replied, relief seeping thr—
Relief?
Relief?
Why was he relieved?
…this was strange.
This was very, very strange—and god dammit, Loki was laughing again. He’d been doing that a lot lately—it was like Goro’s life was a variety show to him.
Oh, you have no idea, Loki cackled.
Silence. “Well, I’ll leave you to rest, Miss Tachibana.” Goro stepped away from the wall, making the turn toward his apartment. He paused at his door, glancing over to the girl. Her smile seemed more and more fake the further he got away. Perhaps the crash had rattled her more than she let on. “Do you need anything?” he asked. “I can bring over some ice packs, or painkillers—”
“Don’t worry,” she insisted. “I’ve got this! I’ll be fine.”
“...you like that phrase, don’t you?” Goro asked, curiosity seeping into his tone as he unlocked his door. “I hear you say it quite a bit.”
Her eyes widened. Nodding, she said, “Y-yeah, I guess I do. It’s… sort of like a magic spell, kinda! Helps me focus. Zero in on what I need to do and all.”
Goro considered this. “...perhaps I might borrow that from you once in a while, then. A little magic might be the trick, once in a while.” With that, he offered a small wave—one quickly returned by Hibiki—, and entered his apartment.
He waited until he heard her enter her own apartment to allow himself to relax.
Moving to his couch, he slumped down, reaching for the remote hidden between the cushions. He’d missed the latest Ban episode, but he couldn’t quite sleep just yet. Perhaps some channel surfing would dull his wits enough to allow him to fall into slumber.
“All Might… do… do you think I could be a he—”
Click.
“Objection! Your honor, there’s a clear contradiction in that—”
Click.
“Detective Conan: The Darkest Nightmare, coming to theaters—”
Click.
“—and we return to our coverage of the subway crash in Shibuya. New footage appears to show the moment the train’s cars began to stabilize following the front car’s derailment.”
Goro sighed, silently fuming as he watched his efforts fail in real-time. The train cars, one by one, began to settle back onto the tracks as if they were toys being manipulated by a child on a playset.
Something seemed… strange, however. More strange than intended, anyway—a train crash would never not look strange to watch.
Amid the screeching of the rails, and the screams of the passengers, a strange sound flitted in and out, only caught by the camera’s microphone in bursts.
He pressed pause on his DVR, running the clip back, and listened closely.
“Let’s go! My f—”
“—y heart will pow–”
“—ep moving on ah—”
“—a home where—”
…what is that? Someone’s MP3 player? It couldn’t be; it’s going through all of the cars. Did someone hijack the speaker system…? But why?
Goro was going to write it off as an anomaly. He’d dealt with far, far too much shit today to worry about someone’s musical tastes in the midst of a failed assassination.
But then, he heard it.
It was quiet—almost inaudible—but he recognized those words immediately.
It was closer to a screech, almost indistinguishable from the scraping metal, and yet…
He recognized that voice immediately.
“Resound with the beat of my heart, into the future we find!”
He paused the video, leaning forward to stare deeply into the CRT screen.
It was small. A single frame, showing one of the train car’s windows.
A left arm, pushing the train car, and jutting out from just out of frame, a shock of blonde hair.
Slowly, Goro looked at the wall connecting his apartment to his neighbor’s. Something burned within him, where there once was an empty void.
He wasn’t sure what it was.
…Hibiki Tachibana, he wondered silently, his teeth bared in a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and fury. I do not know who you are, or where you come from, or what you are capable of…but I would very much like to know if you are going to be my ally…
…or my enemy.