“Let’s hope that this coffee is as strong as my attitude.” I sarcastically laugh to myself as I sit down in my grey swivel chair. It was late, and this article wasn’t writing itself.

I sip my coffee and glance over the cluttered mountains of papers, notes, and files that are in desperate need of sorting. As one of the top reporters and writers of The Karazawa Pages, the most time consuming and complicated cases are fortunately given to me. Placing my coffee down and running a hand through my messy brown hair, I crack my knuckles and get to work.

Not even a minute later, a voice enters without knocking, “Malakai sir, do you need a refill for your coffee?”

“Takada,” I say with a slightly annoyed tone, rubbing my temples. “Did your parents ever teach you to knock?”

“Oh, sorry sir.” He apologizes.

“Don’t call me sir, it makes me feel old.”

“Sorry, s- Malakai.”

“Thank you. Now, what do you need?”

“Um… Mr. Fukao told me to give you this.” Takada says hesitantly, handing me a manila folder. “It’s more police reports from Officer Sugiyama.”

“More?” I question, slightly annoyed, “God, these muggings are getting crazy.” I swipe the folder from his hands.

Grabbing my wire-rimmed glasses off the desk, I put them on, and begin reading the report. “Oh and Takada,” I say as he begins to leave, not looking up from Sugiyama’s report, “another coffee would be nice, the usual.”
“Yessir-- I mean Malakai.” He nods, shuffling out of my office.

I sigh, straightening out the paper, it reads: Two more citizens were mugged today: one a photographer from Fukurodani Press and the other an aspiring author. Both victims were approached by a suspicious man said to be about 5’6. The man wore dark clothes, a hood, and an airport mask. Both victims claim that it was too dark to see any of the man’s facial features and he spoke in a low voice. The items stolen were the photographer’s camera and the writer’s wallet and tablet. For more information please visit the Jousai police station. If you have any information, have seen or found the stolen items, or have witnessed any suspicious activity you can reach the police investigation office at: 0225-908014.

After staring at the report and rereading it several times, my eyes ache. I take my glasses off and loosely hold one of their temples between my teeth.

“You should really give the kid a break.” Someone says from the other side of the room, emerging from the shadows.

“Akira…” I acknowledge the voice, “Long time no see.”

“Same to you.” My cousin says, striding in and leaning on the side of my desk. “So this new story of yours,” He pauses peering over my shoulder, “muggings huh? Interesting. Do the cops have a lead?”

“Sadly not.” I sigh, flipping through the stapled pages. “Why are you in here anyways?”

“Your shift is almost over. Fukao doesn’t want you to overwork.” Akira says heading for the door.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time, 10:45 PM.

“I’ll be out in a minute, I’ve got to finish this,” I say putting my glasses on.

“Last time you said that you stayed here ‘till three the next morning.” Akira crosses his arms. “Fukao says you need a break.”

“I’m a grown man, I don’t need my uncle telling me what to do.” I blatantly reply, closing my laptop. “But if he wants me to take a break I better not hear him complain when his article isn’t in on time.”

“You still submit to him, Kai.” He smirks walking out the door.

“That bastard,” I mutter, sliding my laptop and a few files into my bag.

“Leaving early Malakai?” Takada asks, following me as I head out of the large news building. How annoying.
“Yes, thanks for the coffee,” I say, slinging my bag over my shoulder and taking the coffee cup from his hands. “See you tomorrow.”

The air is surprisingly cooler than usual for late September. It was late, and I curse myself for not bringing a heavier coat. The crisp air brushes my face as I begin briskly walking to my apartment, tucking my bag close to me as I push through the crowded city streets. Street lamps shine a dull light and the phones of other people illuminate the late night sky. I turn the corner onto the quiet street near my apartment. The brightness of the city fades and I walk cautiously along the eerily lit walkway. I check the zippers on my pockets and bag, my apartment complex is in a nice part of town but the mugging reports have me on edge.

“Do you have any spare change? I’m short a few bucks.”

I nearly jump. A figure is leaning against a wall, the dull light barely outlining him from the dark night.

“Oh… I’m sorry, I don’t.” I quickly say, trying to walk past.

“I said, do you have any spare change?” He asks again, taking a step towards me.

I take a cautious step back, “And I said that I didn’t.”

“Just give me your wallet. Make this easier for both of us.” He suggests blatantly.

“I don’t carry a wallet.”

“Your bag then.”

“I’d rather not.”

I should probably run instead of having a conversation with him.

“Tch, you leave me no choice.” He says taking another step towards me.

My eyes shift quickly to his pockets, a bulky object is in his waistband. Probably a gun.

He smirks and reaches into his waistband.

“What are yo—” I ask, brutally cut off by a bruising pain in my chest.

I slump to the floor, holding my side. He hit me with the butt of his gun, fantastic. I reach around in the dark for my bag but all my fingers touch is cold cement. Crap. He ran off with my bag. My bag with my laptop and work files.

The door to the police station swings open and a waft of soothing warm air hits me. I walk into the desk, wincing at the pain in my side. A woman sitting behind a desk in a worn office chair looks up at me.

“I need to speak with Officer Sugiyama,” I state through gritted teeth.

“Are you ok?” She asks raising an eyebrow.

“Just peachy. Now if you could be a dear and get Officer Sugiyama that would be wonderful.”

She smiles, “Meiko Sugiyama, head officer of Jousai Station Investigation Offices, how may I be of service?”
I look at her confused. “Meiko Sugiyama. Sugiyama. Officer Sugiyama. That’s you?” 

She glares at me, crossing her arms. “Are you trying to say that you didn’t think the head officer would be a girl?”

“I… Uh…” I falter.

She laughs, “It’s fine, this sort of thing happens all the time.” She pauses, “So what do you need?”

“I have some information on the muggings,” I respond.

“You do? Please come in then!” Meiko says jumping up from her chair and leading me to what looks to be her office. “So what information do you have for me?”

“Another attack happened recently,” I state, taking a seat.

“I see,” she sits down, “do you have the victim’s information? Do you know what was stolen?”

“On my way home a mysterious man approached me and stole my bag which had important files and my laptop in it,” I inform.

“So you were the one mugged?” Meiko asks, eyes widening as she takes out a notepad.

I nod.

“Can you tell me around what time you were mugged?” She questions, wiggling a pencil in between her fingers.

“Around 11:20.”

She scribbles something down.

“Ok, could you see any of the mugger’s facial features?”

“No, it was pretty dark.”

More writing.

“Could you tell the gender?”

“Male.”

“You said you were carrying your bag. How did he get it from you? Did you give it to him?”

“Of course not! Geez, how dumb do you think I am? He hit me with the butt of his gun and I fell, dropping my bag, then he ran off with it.”

Meiko tucks the pencil behind her ear, tucking her black hair out of the way.

“He was armed?” She asks.

“Yes.”

She sighs, turning to her computer.

“What are you doing?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Sending a report to my boss.”

“Can’t you do that later?” I ask.

“This is urgent, none of the other victims said anything about the mugger having a weapon,” Meiko says sternly.

“I just thought that was a given?”

“Do you know anything about these mugging cases? They’re insane! Things like this rarely happen, most “gangs” don’t mug people or carry an illegal weapon. None of it makes sense, it’s a maze full of dead ends and my boss put me in charge of cracking it.” She snaps.

“I do in fact. My boss just so happened to put me in charge of covering all this mess for the news and I have to sift through your reports!” I raise my voice.

Meiko turns from her computer and looks at me. “You work for the reporting office? Karazawa?”
“One of the top reporters, yes,” I answer confidently.

“What exactly was in that bag?” She asks, leaning forward on her desk.

“My laptop and some papers.” I vaguely reply with a shrug.

“What was on your computer, and what papers?” Meiko questions.

“Excuse you? That is classified information!”

“I’m an officer, if you don’t tell me right now I’m going to arrest you.” She threatens, narrowing her eyes.
“You can’t do that!”

“Yes, but it scared you into talking did it not?” Sugiyama smirks.

I roll my eyes. Well played Officer, well played. “My laptop had all my articles on it and I had some files I was using to write my report.”

“What is your assignment?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Do you want my help to track these people down and get your bag back or not?”

“Fine! Fine. I was writing a report in the muggings.” I throw my hands up in surrender.

“So you know the situation.” Meiko states.

“Yes?” I question rhetorically.

“Damn, this is bad.” She sighs, resting the heel of her palms over her eyes.

“What’s bad?”

“If your bag has information about the muggings…” She starts.

“Then the mugging gang has the information and we don’t.” I finish.

“Exactly. We need to get that bag back, more importantly, find out who’s behind all this.”

She jots something down and hands me a slip of paper. “My personal phone number, call me tomorrow morning and we can meet for coffee.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Why am I helping you? I have my own job.” I say handing her back her number.

“If you don’t want to get useful information for your report then suit yourself.” Meiko says, briskly taking the paper from my hand.

“Tch, I don’t need your help. It clearly hasn’t helped me out so far.” I reply, taking the slip back and opening her office door. “This is just in case I need an interview.”

I turn my back on her and walk towards the main door of the station.

“We’ll see who needs help tomorrow morning.” She says leaning on the doorframe.

I hesitate before I open the main door of Jousai Station. I brush her comment off as I swing the door open and head back out into the cool night.

The next morning I walk into an empty building. Mostly empty, except for Akira sitting in my office.
“Why are you here again?” I ask in annoyance, “I thought you photographed in Tokyo.”

“Fired. Fukao asked if I could work for him.” He replies, standing up.

“It’s rude to refer to your father by his first name Aki.”

He rolls his eyes, “Katsukawa asked if I could work for him.”

“Where is everyone? Today isn’t an off day is it?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Break room, some intern got a promotion and they’re celebrating.”

“They’re celebrating an intern?” I scoffed, “Since when does that happen?”

“It is a pretty big promotion,” Akira says, beginning to walk out of my office. “You should go check it out.”
I shake my head, “I’ve got to restart my article.” I stop him as he opens his mouth to ask why. “It’s a long story.”

He looks confusedly at me for a few seconds, rolls his eyes yet again and walks away. I tap my phone awake and look at the time, 3:50, I’m surprised Takada hasn’t shown up.

“Hey Tohoku, have you seen Takada?” I ask one of the photographers as he walks by.

“Your old intern?” He steps into the doorway. “I’m heading to his office right now.”

“His office? Since when did he have an office?”

“Since he got promoted?” Tohoku rhetorically asks.

“He got promoted?!” I gasp in shock.

“Yeah, Katsukawa read one of his pieces and thought it was incredible, put him right in the top slot.” He says.
“But I’m in the top slot,” I affirm.

“Not anymore, sorry Malakai.” He says heading out.

There’s no way, it’s impossible. That annoying brat couldn’t possibly be so much better than me, he barely has any experience! What was Fukao thinking?

I grab my phone quickly and grab the slip of paper from my pocket. I pound the number in and run a hand through my hair as the phone dials.

“Hello? Meiko? It’s Malakai, the reporter from last night. Where do you like to get coffee?”

“So you finally decided you wanted my help?” Meiko sits down in front of me.

“No. Like I told you over the phone I am helping you get to the bottom of this.” I say sipping my coffee.

“Sure, whatever. Why the sudden change in attitude?” She asks quizzically.

“Look, I was mugged last night and wasn’t in a particularly good mood,” I responded flatly.

Sugiyama laughs, “I’m a detective officer, I can tell when people are lying. You just want first-hand information don’t you?”

“Why should I tell you my motives?” I set my coffee down and cross my arms.

“We’re going to be partners are we not?” Meiko smiles.

“Don’t do that. It’s creepy.” I shudder.

“What smile?” She asks.

“Yeah, you’re too scary to smile. I bet you scare kids.” I smirk.

“I don’t work with kids often, so maybe.” Sugiyama shrugs.

I laugh, “Maybe working with you won’t be too bad.”

“What was that?”

“I said you smell bad!” I splutter.

“Ok, sure. Whatever Mr. Reporter.”

“Kai.” I sate my nickname.

“Pardon?” She asks.

“Call me Kai, it’s shorter than ‘Mr. Reporter.’ “ I respond.

We sit in an awkward silence, Meiko gets up and orders herself a coffee. Straight black with one shot of creamer.

She looks at me from the rim of her cup, “So… Do we have a deadline?”

“For what?” give her a puzzled look.

“Your report,” Meiko says placing her cup down.

“Oh…” I begin, “About that…”

“About what?” She questions.

I hesitate. Do I trust her? Of course not. I’m not quick to trust, but for some strange reason, I feel that this one time is the exception.

“I quit my project.”

“You what?” An expression of shock took over her face.

“I quit working on the article. Most of my files were lost as well as my actual report which was on my laptop, my intern took over my position so there’s no need to restart it if he can do better.” I explain.

“That’s not a reason to quit,” Meiko says.

“It’s a plenty good reason to quit. I’m not talented enough, not even for my own uncle. If I get replaced by an annoying college graduate intern my talent is clearly not enough.” I shake my head.

“You’re stupid.” She looks me in the eye.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. You’re stupid. Just because you or someone else thinks you aren’t good enough doesn’t mean anything. Someone else could think that your talent outshines the rest.”

I sigh, “You don’t understand. The grueling world of reporting, it’s a competitive cycle. You strive to be the best, get the job done the quickest and the best.” I look down at my cup, “If you can’t master that, you’re as useful as an empty cup of coffee.”

“Just because we aren’t in the same field doesn’t mean I don't understand how it feels to want to be at the top. I wasn’t always the head officer of investigations, I used to be the chief of the entire prefecture, then Wakashi was stationed here and I got bumped down to investigation.”

“Wakashi?” I ask. “I'm guessing he’s the current chief?”

“Yeah, and since I was the old chief he doesn't cut me any slack. When these muggings started happening he was all onto me for not having it under control.” She huffed, “So I started working my ass off, sending patrols to sketchy areas, but the muggings keep coming. I got a phone call earlier this morning from him saying that if I didn't hunt down the head of this gang in two days he was going to make sure that I was re-stationed.”
I push up my glasses and squint behind her. A tall, broad-shouldered man with dark eyes, short, light brown hair, and a stoic face approaches us.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asks raising an eyebrow.

“Officer Sugiyama.” His voice is annoyingly monotone.

“Chief Wakashi.” Meiko greets, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same to you. Why aren’t you at your station? You weren’t there when I went by this morning to see how your case was going.” Wakashi states, crossing his arms.

“You called me this morning. And if I recall I informed you that I was meeting with a mugging victim.” She replies.

“This looks more like a date than an informative meeting.” He glances over to me and then to the two cups of coffee.

“It’s not a date Chief.” Meiko affirms, “It’s just a convenient way for us to meet.”

“I don’t like meeting in offices anyways, they make me nervous. I probably wouldn’t give your amazing

investigations officer here the information she needs if I was under pressure.” I add.

“I see…” The Chief says. “Just remember that your deadline is in two days Meiko.”

“Yes, sir.” She says, sneaking a face of disgust at me.

I snicker.

“Is something the matter sir?” Wakashi asks.

“Actually, yes.” I answer. “As a reporter. No, as a person with common sense. Anyone can see that two days is never enough time to do anything; decently at least.”

“You’re a reporter?” He asks, a look of question and suspicion on his face.

“Yes sir, is there a problem with that?” I question.

“Don’t corrupt my officer,” Wakashi states bluntly.

“I’m sorry?” I say in confusion.

“Reporters always twist the truth for an interesting story. They aren’t to be trusted, they do whatever is the best for them, for a successful story. Be careful Sugiyama.” He warns, turning his back and walking away.
I laugh unsurely, “You don’t actually believe him right?”

Meiko doesn’t say anything, she just stares into her now empty cup.

“So you believe him,” I answer myself, hoping that she protests. She doesn’t. “We aren’t all like that.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just don’t want you to use me.” She explains.

“That sounds an awful lot like not trusting someone,” I add. “Look, I’m not even writing the report anymore, what could I use against you?”

“Then why are you here offering to help me?”

I think about it for a minute, why am I helping her?

“I… I honestly don’t know.” I hesitate, “I need a distraction I guess. Something new.”

“I see. I won’t question your motives any longer.” Meiko says.

“Thanks,” I pause, “so do you have any leads?”

“Not really, except that all the victims have one thing in common,” Meiko informs.

“Which is?” I await details.

“They’re all tied to the media.” She pulls out a file from her bag. “The first was an aspiring author. Writing a comedy novel about two cops through a reporter’s point of view.”

“Ok. So someone wanted to take her work and claim it right?” I think aloud.

“I don’t think so. Listen to this, the second was a photographer, a famous one even. Furudate Keiji.” Meiko says.

“Keiji? They mugged Keiji?”

“You know him?” She asks.

“He used to work with me, then he started his own business.” I answer.

“Do you have any of his contact information?” Meiko questions, shuffling the files back into her bag.

“Yes? But didn’t you already talk to him?” I ask looking at her in confusion.

“Yeah but I have a hunch and I have some more questions that need answers.” She says standing up. “Come on, call him and tell him that we’re on our way.”

“We can’t just show up at his house!” I say picking up my phone from the table and follow her.

“If it’s for investigation purposes, it’s fine.” Sugiyama defends.

“He’s not going to be happy about this.” I reply.

“Wakashi isn’t going to be happy when I don’t crack this case.” She says, unlocking her car.

“You aren’t Sherlock. Don't expect this to be solved overnight.” I get into the passenger seat.

Meiko sighs and rolls her eyes, “He expects me to be better than Sherlock, there is no way I’m getting this done.” She laughs as we drive down the road, “Sometimes I think he wants me to get so stressed that I quit or get fired.”

“Maybe he does, he seems like a pretty big jerk to me.” I say, looking out the windshield, “Turn here.”
“He’s so strange. He’s always on edge and sets the weirdest deadlines. It seems that he’s trying to sabotage us sometimes.” She turns left.

The next few minutes, eight to be exact were spent in uncomfortable silence. A few directions were muttered and a few glances were stolen.

“Turn on this side street.” I break the silence as we near Furudate’s home.

“Which house is his?” Sugiyama asks slowing the car down.

“Third on the right.” I sit up and look out the window for his house, “There, the one with the owl on the mailbox.”

I don’t have to knock as Keiji is standing in the doorway with a puzzled look on his face. “What are you doing here?” He questions.

“It really wasn’t my choice.” I reply with a shrug.

He looks behind me, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “I’m not looking to do model photoshoots.”

Meiko laughs, “I’m flattered.” Pulling her badge out of her coat pocket she continues, “Sugiyama Meiko, Miyagi Police.”

Furudate flushes in embarrassment, “Oh I am sorry for the inappropriate comment, I wasn’t aware that you were with the police. Please, come in.” He opens the door and I step aside, letting Meiko in first. Furudate leads us to his living room, offering us a seat on the couch, “So what can I help you with?” He asks.

“I need more details on the mugging you experienced, we have a very crunched time limit.” Sugiyama states, pulling out a notepad from her jacket.

God, how many pockets does she have in there to keep all this stuff?

“Ok, go ahead and ask, however, I gave all the information I could the last interview I had regarding this.” Furudate says, tucking some of his black hair behind his ear.

“These are more personal questions if that’s ok with you.” She says flipping to a clean page. “You can leave any questions unanswered if you aren’t comfortable answering, just know that every bit of information we have helps us greatly.” Meiko pauses. “Kai, can you record this?”

“Where am I supposed to record this?” I ask, “I don’t have a tape recorder just lying around.”

“Use your phone stupid.” Meiko rolls her eyes.

“Right, that’s a thing.” I pull my phone out of my pocket.

I open my phone and launch the recording app. I look to Meiko and giver her a thumbs up and start the recording.

“Please state and spell your given name.” She says, a more official sounding tone to her voice.

“Furudate Keiji.” He says and then proceeds to spell it.

“Thank you. First question: how large and popular is your business Fukurodani Press?”

“My company?” He pauses, “Even though I only started it last year, it has grown a lot. We get many requests from magazines, newspapers, television, and large city events.”

“What type of media do you usually focus on?” Meiko asks.

“Personally?” Keiji questions before he answers.

Meiko nods.

“I personally focus on city news, major events, special forces, and first responders.” He answers.
Meiko’s eyes light up as she scribbles something down.

“Are you currently working on a project currently?” She asks, looking at him with eager eyes.

“Yes.” A one-word reply.

“May I ask what this project’s focus is?”

“The police.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“The overall image and acts of the police force.” Furudate responds.

She nods, “Alright, that is all, thank you for your time Mr. Furudate. It’s greatly appreciated.”

“You’re welcome, and thank you for all that you do as well officer.” Keiji replies with a small bow.
“It means a lot to hear that.” Meiko says standing up.

“Thanks for letting us barge into your house Keiji.” I say following Meiko to the door. “We haven’t talked in ages, we should get coffee sometime.”

“Sure, I’ll see you around then.” He says opening the door for us.

As we get in the car and begin to drive off Meiko lets out and excited burst of happiness.

“I know who it is!” She smiles.

I look up from my phone in shock, “How?”

“I can’t believe that it was this simple.” Meiko laughs dumbfoundedly.

“Who is it?” I question.

“Wakasi.”

“The chief?” I raise a brow.

“It makes since, he's always seemed like he had something against the press. He always complains about the bad light they give police. It lines up, an author writing a comedy about the police, a photographer covering our services, a reporter writing a report about what he’s in charge of. I can't believe that I hadn't seen it before.” Sugiyama explains.

“But what if it isn't him? You don't want to falsely accuse him.” I reason.

“I don't, but I'd rather be right and not get fired than wrong and get fired.” Meiko says turning into the police station parking lot.

“That’s quite controversial.” I point out, following her into the station. “What if he fires you because you were right and he doesn’t want anyone to know?”

“I’d find another station. But hopefully I'm right and he would have to resign.”

“Are you sure that you aren't just mentally bias? Because you have things against him you might just think, or even hope that it’s him.” I explain, trying to persuade her to not make a regrettable decision.

“I'm doing this and you can't persuade me otherwise.” She states, knocking on the door to the chief’s office.
“Don't you have to write a claim file or something?” I ask as we wait for the door to click open.

“Not if we’re directly accusing him.” Meiko says, straightening her posture as the door clicks open.

“Officer Sugiyama, have you come to resign?” He questions, then glare at me. “I see your friend is still here.”
“No, I haven't come to resign. And my friend has been plenty of help thank you. All reporters and press aren't bad Mr. Gang leader.” She crosses her arms.

Wakashi narrows his eyes, looking down at the much shorter woman. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. I figured it out. You're the leader of the gang. Your facade didn't fool me for long, I'm the chief of investigations for a reason.” She doesn't stop once Wakashi gives her a cold, death intimidating glare. “You have always despised the press, saying they ruin our image, but what you mean is that they ruin your image. Before you were assigned here your old station found records of you being part of a criminal gang, so they fired you. You came here and somehow convinced the governor to put you in charge of this station. You put me in charge of investigations because you thought that either I’d make a fool of myself or figure out. Did you want anyone to find out? And you know what part gave it away?” Meiko laughs, “Malakai. You had one of your hit men mug a high rank reporter who just so happened to be doing a report on your gang’s muggings.” 
Silence.

Wakashi broke the silence with a psychotic smirk. “Do you want to know why I really did it?” He asked, not giving time for an answer as he began to speak again, “You were right. But there's one factor you didn't know. My father was a cop, and the press ruined him. Twisted his story, he killed himself out of shame. What a stupid way to die. I was ashamed, but I wanted revenge. I needed revenge. But I've failed him, I didn't get my revenge, I've made a fool of myself.” He looked to me, “You'll follow him, to the grave.”

He pulls his shotgun out of his waistband, pointing it at me. His fingers caress the trigger, a twisted smile on his face. From the corner of my eye I see Meiko pull her own gun from her waist, Pointing it at him.

“Shoot him and I’ll shoot you.” She asserts, a strong wave of bravery flowing through her voice.

“Put the gun down if you know what’s good for you Meiko.” Wakashi demands.

“I could say the same to you.” Sugiyama replies.

Wakashi fires his gun at Meiko’s left hand, knocking the gun from her grip. “Stand down Sugiyama. I’ll shoot.”
Meiko looks to me, afraid. There is nothing she can do, Wakashi has his gun locked on me and will shoot her if she moves. He turns his attention back to me and smirks wickedly.

I'm ready to accept my fate when I see him apply pressure to the trigger. But in the last split second, he turns the gun on himself.

Boom.