Chapter Text
“Alright everybody, settle down.”
The conference room erupted, flashing with cameras, stupid boom mics and fluttering papers with poorly written shorthand that you could barely tolerate. This case, it became the bane of your existence, yet it spurred you on to catch the guy responsible.
When the room fell silent, knowing full well you weren’t giving in to the reporters demanding questions, you finally exhaled. You hated this part.
“Detective Chief Inspector! Can you say for certain that the recent hike in organs selling on the black market has links to the Hollow Purple killer?! Our only active serial killer currently operating within Tokyo.”
You shook your head with all the disappointment as a strict school teacher. “It’s never been confirmed that the Hollow Purple killer is linked to the higher rates on the black market, we’re merely surmising. When we have more to go on, we’ll provide the evidence of our findings; whatever they may be. Next?”
“Detective, can you comment on the pattern of victims? Another has just been found, can you confirm that this man fits the over-thirties profile?!”
Men. Every single time. Men in their thirties, linked to violence and repeated offences. Like the killer was a vigilante or something.
“We cannot comment on the victim until they are identified, when official enquiries have been made and the family come forward, we’ll release that information.”
Ugh, so boring.
You had a briefing to go over after this, reviewing all of the evidence for the new start. Basically fresh meat for the officers to induct into the briefing room.
God help him.
“One more question… Yes?” You pointed to the quiet reporter in the corner, a brunette in a turtleneck and looking right out of place with a lollipop between her lips. Eyeglasses far too dark for the rooms inadequate lighting to see properly.
“Do you have any suspects yet?”
Should you lie and confirm that you did? In reality, you weren’t even close to getting a suspect. Either way, the press would eat out of the palm of your hand for that information. Even so, after learning that, they’d either deem the police as incompetent after looking for the Hollow Purple killer for three years with nothing to show for it, or demand a name of this imaginary suspect.
A double edged sword that would bite the hand that fed it.
“No. We currently do not have a suspect in custody-“
Cameras clicked furiously at your face like judgmental eyes carefully watching your next move, and the voices behind them questioned not only the police’s competence, but yours, too.
Detective Kamo, a member of the specialist task force set on catching the Hollow Purple killer, outstretched his arm in front of you and practically shooed the reporters away.
“That’s enough questions. When we know more, we’ll call another conference. Thank you.”
His tall presence silenced them despite the continuous shutter clicks and flashes. You turned away off of the podium and stormed through the double doors back into the designated hallway.
“Jesus! I fucking hate these conferences, they never do any good and there’s nothing new to offer. It’s pissing me off.”
Choso huffed in amusement that was wasted on your gritted teeth. “They’re vultures, what do you expect? I’m surprised they haven’t camped out at our houses just for something to do. The morale is low enough in the city as it is, they’re scraping the barrel for intel, and we’re just not giving it to them.”
“Whoever this killer is, he’s making us look like incompetent assholes.”
You followed him through the hallway, stepping through each door as he opened them. “That’s just a given. The police are always incompetent assholes in a journalist's eyes.”
“Those conferences go the same way every time, all they care about is the juicy details. Nothing of what the family is going through ever occurs to them unless it can get them views or notoriety. It sickens me.”
“Welcome to the world of policing, I guess.”
If that wasn’t bad enough, you saw how crowded the briefing room was. The scratched, worn door with the vertical slit window barely closed, erupting with chatter and bullshit on the other side.
“And now I have to brief these animals.”
The second you pushed that door open, the room reacted like an excitable rash. Half were officers on home soil, the other half were detectives gifted from Osaka. You soon realised the latter were unruly, the majority arrogant and unfamiliar with your own leadership.
“The DCI is here!”
“Hey boss!”
“Fancy seein’ you here, almost thought you weren’t gonna show!”
If you weren’t so desperate, you would have sent them back to restore order. That being said, past the mild annoyance, they were damn good officers when they made the effort. Another double edged sword.
“Settle down, assholes. We have a briefing to get through and I’ll hand out assignments.”
Choso followed you in, abruptly pushing a detective's feet lazily thrown on the table, tutting at him before taking up a spot on that very table.
“So, first thing on the docket today- our new start, the National Police Agency’s golden boy. Satoru Gojo.” The room whistled and barked at the man up front, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and blackened sunglasses tucked out of his breast pocket. “Be sure to look after him, and don’t pull any of that lame bullshit like last time, the guy only made it two weeks.”
He grinned, waving to them like he was some sort of local celebrity. The NPA deemed him a high achiever, that was the only reason he was accepted into the task force. At a glance, he was a walking pretentious air head that left much to be explained.
You did not care. Not if he did his job properly.
“Alright, enough! This isn’t the first day of school. Grab your snacks, drink your coffee and sit down- Kamo, dim the lights.”
For once, the room sat in an uninterrupted silence, eyeing the overhead projection displaying on the pull-down screen. “I’ll go over what we know for the NPA’s baby boy, so we’re all on the same page.”
You allowed the room to whistle and chuckle as though it was some kind of rite of passage. Only it did not simmer down. The door opened, your eyes widened with the frustration of a disappointed mother.
“Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence, detective.”
An Osaka detective pulled up a chair. “Wow, Sukuna, y’get lost or somethin’?”
Sukuna said nothing. He waltzed in with the humongous dick sized chip on his shoulder for no reason at all and sat down at the only available empty table.
You’d grill him about it afterwards.
“The Hollow Purple killer. Still unknown, coming up for the three year anniversary of darkness this city has endured.”
There were reams upon reams of information and exhaustive investigations sat on the desk collecting dust, only disturbing when another body fell on top of the collection.
“The Hollow Purple killer operates within the boundaries of the twenty-three special wards.” A view of multiple crime scenes popped up on the screen under the click of the miniature remote in your hand. “Killing men exclusively, married, in their thirties upwards. All with violence charges on their records.”
More brutalised bodies and autopsy photos cropped up from all corners, each body dumped in the same way, murdered the same way. Preserved just the same, like for like as though each different scene was the same. Identical to the last and the one after that.
“We assumed after the twenty-third body, that it was over and he was done putting one body on each ward… The bastard has started the pattern again. The latest victim was found in the same place, on the same date, in a photo perfect position. Twenty four bodies and if this is anything to go by, the next body will wind up in Shinjuku. More specifically, Kabukicho.”
After the projector switched to more specifics, the room remained silent. “The Hollow Purple killer, or H.P.K, kills men using a mixed substance of industrial strength bleach and an acid. Not only does the victim burn from the inside out,” you clicked again to a more fucked up autopsy photo. “They also choke on the gas it creates… and H.P.K watches whilst they die. But, that’s not the only thing he leaves for us.”
Again, another click. A beautiful precious gem the size of a ten yen coin. “A purple Sapphire is usually left in a small PVC box inside of the body. A precious gem of the highest quality, left for the family members of the deceased.”
“Talk about Sugar-Daddy-vigilante-justice.” Sukuna finally spoke, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place.
Each man murdered had some sort of dark background with abuse, or violence towards one person in particular. Their spouse. That was the unusual characteristic in common. Each of them walked away from the consequences before their deaths due to lack of evidence because their spouse decided not to press charges, and became unwilling to come forward in court under fear.
For a time, you suspected an officer in the beginning. After the fifth body and having the one thing that linked them, a police officer could only get evidence like that. Under your order, all officers with clearance were thoroughly examined.
A massive strain of resources, but you had to be sure. Now, everyone in this room was some you trusted to some degree enough to be there.
“We are looking for a man in his early thirties, highly intelligent who functions well in society. He likes to think he’s doing right, probably has an attitude for following people of authority, definitely has a skewed moral compass and most probably suffered some sort of abuse at the hands of someone important at some point.”
The room still watched, Satoru Gojo listened intently, his eyes flickering between the board and you every few seconds. He was neither distracted despite his aloofness, and never said a word under his breath.
He might actually last.
“Now,” You clicked the next slide, a large map of the wards. “The first three victims were killed and disposed of in quick succession. We have one week before he kills again if he’s going by his previous pattern. The evidence suggests he is.”
“Three victims and three weeks. Busy guy.” Sukuna put his leg up over the other knee, “We on the usual bullshit neighbourhood watch as before?”
Teams separate and go by their own individual quadrants, starting from the outside and work their way in.
“No. We don’t have time. We go through every missing persons case with a history of violence and we look through every abandoned building, buildings with basements, alleyways- anywhere you can hide someone. Our aim is to find them alive, but our worst case scenario is to catch H.P.K in the act… two weeks after the first victim, and the fourth body wasn’t found for six months during a latent phase. We can’t afford to let that happen again.”
The last time was a disaster. It can't happen again.
You clicked the projection off, Choso turned on the room's lights with a wad of papers in his arms.
“Alright, take an assignment from detective Kamo and start combing. Prioritise anywhere that fits the profiles and leave no stone in turned. Every person so far has come from the ward they were murdered in. Don’t fall a step behind this time.”
The room thanked you, pairing up with each other, grabbing their coats and loose cigarettes behind their ears. Each officer thanked you and bowed, taking a sheet of paper and disappearing out into the hallway.
“So why were you late this time, Hm? Traffic or...“
Sukuna climbed out of his chair and placed his own cigarette to his lips, from his crumpled packet nestled in his breast pocket. He lacked any respect for you and the only reason you kept him around was because he was the one of, if not the best detective you’d ever had the displeasure of working with.
“I fucked my date last night and slept in, that an excuse enough for you?”
And he knew that. Hence why he gave you shit.
“Well, it certainly clears things up. Try to keep your personal affairs outside of work. And do your job.”
He huffed in amusement which only pissed you off more. There must be something you could do to return the favour.
“What about me?”
“Holy shit.” You never flinched, just took a step back. “I forgot you were still here, didn’t you go with one of the officers?”
Satoru Gojo hadn’t moved from the wall, pulling out his glasses to clean. “I waited for you to assign me. Thought you’d show me the ropes or tell me what to do.”
There was something sparingly flirtatious about it, yet far too innocent for the room to read it that way.
“Fine, you’ll go with Detective Sukuna today. I’m sure he can show you the ropes well enough without my input.”
Sukuna shook his head yet said nothing. You’d won this round. “C’mon asshole. Grab a sheet, we’re hitting the coffee shop for breakfast.”
Satoru hesitated, walking past you for the last papers in Choso’s arms. “Alright then, see ya later.”
You waited until they left to speak with Choso. “Is it just me or-“
“He’s a flirtatious prick? Yeah, it’s not just you.”
“I can probably guess your thoughts on him already then?” Pulling a seat out, you set yourself on it, smugly grinning at a man you trusted with your life.
He shrugged, sitting back down on the desk. “He’s going to be a pain in the ass, that’s all I need to know.”
“You’re telling me… Maybe being partnered with Sukuna might make him reevaluate his approach on this task force.”
“Something tells me it won’t make a difference.”
His grumbling made you laugh. “You are a grumpy one today, aren’t you?”
“I just know an asshole when I see one.”
“You’re an asshole.”
He half smiled, getting to his feet to open the door for you. “So are you.”
“Then we’re both assholes. But, we won’t be when we catch this guy. And when we do, you better take me out to that steak place you always rave about.”
Choso left the room with you, following close behind. “If we get this guy soon, I’ll buy you a hundred steaks.”
Steak sounded so good right now. “Then let’s catch this bastard. It’s about time.”
The Hollow Purple killer was in for it to face the full brunt of the specialist task force. You wouldn’t let him slip through your fingers, not again.
Even if it killed you.