Hiromitsu Morofushi wasn't entirely sure, but he vaguely understood why Yamawashi hadn't been staying in the safe house much when they first got together.
The rain had stopped, leaving the roads slippery. Hiromitsu Morofushi put on his hat and blended into the sparse crowd.
He was indeed troubled by Yamawashi, he had indeed begun to subconsciously pay attention to Yamawashi, but he could not spend a vast amount of time on Yamawashi.
Three years later, the Organization had been destroyed. Having personally participated in this long war, he had mastered much intelligence—information he had acquired by unravelling threads of the future or even through experiencing sacrifice—and he also knew which mysteries remained unsolved and required him to take action in advance.
The injury in Yamawashi reminded him that his actions could trigger a butterfly effect; he had to be cautious, exceedingly cautious, to redeploy himself and remain prepared for any unexpected occurrences at any time.
Halfway through his journey, a light drizzle began to fall from the sky. Hiromitsu Morofushi quickened his pace and stepped into a roadside bookstore at random before the rain could turn into a heavy downpour.
The shop was very quiet; there were customers specifically there to read, as well as pedestrians like him who had come in to escape the rain. The shop assistant was slumped over a table sleeping; everything was tranquil and ordinary.
He wandered around the shop, remembered the detective novel Yamawashi had been reading, selected a few books of the same genre.
He had been picking up little things to bring back lately, much like souvenirs from a trip; although Yamawashi wouldn't accept them, it wouldn't be too late to find an opportunity to give them to her once the misunderstanding was resolved.
When he returned to the first floor of the bookstore, the clerk, who had been dozing off, was surrounded by several girls in school uniforms. As soon as the clerk saw him standing at the checkout counter, he seemed to find the perfect excuse to escape; after a few perfunctory words, he broke through the crowd to process the payment.
With an expression of relief, the shop assistant packed several books into a bag and handed over the receipt. Hiromitsu Morofushi nodded, no further communication took place.
Like many other customers seeking shelter from the rain in the shop, Hiromitsu Morofushi found a seat on the second floor, reading a book and waiting for the rain to stop amidst the sound of the downpour.
On the first floor, those students left, the shop assistant began to rest again, leaning his chin on his hand.
This was the first time Hiromitsu Morofushi had stepped into this shop, but if you counted the times before his rebirth, the number would be impossible to calculate.
Perhaps no one would have thought that the lazy clerk in a seemingly ordinary bookstore was actually the heir to Japan's largest publishing group today.
Three years later, he had met with this unconventional young master more than once in the name of the National Police Agency, yet he had never been able to obtain the answers he wanted.
As he turned a page of the book in his hands, Hiromitsu Morofushi had no heart to read the words upon it. He turned his head to gaze at the pouring rain outside, as deep memories swelled with the moisture, surfacing once more.
..
One month after Yamawashi's death, some members with codenames received a secret invitation. The address was a remote island called America Island, which also had a more popular name, Mermaid Island.
He didn't receive an invitation. The rumor circulating within the organization was that because he had a close relationship with Yamawashi, since Yamawashi's identity as an undercover agent had only recently been exposed, he was naturally being given the cold shoulder.
He had investigated what had happened on the island, he had personally gone to the island to investigate more than once, but that gathering had seemed like a simple team-building event; the Organization's boss had not appeared throughout the entire process, nor had he issued any instructions.
It wasn't until he was leafing through the records of past celebrations on the island that he caught a hint of something strange.
Two names appeared repeatedly in the rosters of different years. It was actually much later that he discovered one of those names belonged to the Organization's BOSS, which initially drew extra attention; however, it was only because those two names were mixed among the codenames of the members that they were included in the scope of the investigation.
And this name, which appeared twice in close proximity to the BOSS, was found through repeated verification not to belong to any of the codename members who received invitations that year. Later, when the codename members on Mermaid Island were interrogated, they all expressed that they had no impression of this person without exception, as if such a person had simply appeared out of thin air.
The Public Security Bureau had always suspected that this person was an important hidden figure within the Organization; however, even after the Organization's collapse, the true identity of the name's owner remained a mystery.
Three years after Yamawashi's death, a fragmented manuscript broke the deadlock.
An anonymously written novel was quietly published, causing a massive stir on the market. He paid attention not to the story itself, but to the name of the protagonist, which was identical to the ghostly name on the celebration registry. The person who had prepared this novel for publication was none other than Ino Seigo, the heir of the Ino Group, who was working part-time at this bookstore at the time.
The rain stopped. Hiromitsu Morofushi closed his book and, like the other guests seeking shelter from the rain, left without any lingering attachment.
Having the same name was not uncommon, but he never believed in coincidences, especially coincidences where the truth was being deliberately concealed.
The novel was unsigned, but possessing that text meant that Ino Seigo and that organization member must have a complex web of direct or indirect connections. If he started making moves now, he might be able to gather intelligence on that mysterious character who had yet to appear.
As his soles stepped through the shallow puddles, Hiromitsu Morofushi silently repeated that name in his heart—a name that felt both familiar and strange to him.
[Aotsuki]
**
When Yamawashi returned to the safe house after finishing the day's itinerary, Yamawashi was not there.
It was no surprise; out of sight, out of mind. Since even this person, who remains unfazed even when the sky falls, couldn't help but frown, one could only imagine how much Yamawashi must find him tiresome right now.
Hiromitsu Morofushi turned on the light. He had always thought that Yamawashi had asked to be together because he liked his appearance, but now it seemed he had another misunderstanding regarding Yamawashi.
If he only truly liked his face, things would have been much simpler, he wouldn't have been so conflicted about whether or not he was originally from Scotland.
Hiromitsu Morofushi took out his phone, paused for a moment, hovered his thumb over a string of numbers.
He admitted that he cared somewhat about Yamawashi's physical condition, but Yamawashi would certainly not tell him.
At this stage, it would be meaningless to take the blame upon himself, there was no way to verify whether Aotsuki's injury was caused by a butterfly effect resulting from him. However, since they were lovers in name, he also needed to uncover the intelligence hidden within Aotsuki, he found it entirely necessary to show some concern for Aotsuki, even if it was just for show.
Yamawashi's relationship with Scotland is known to everyone in the Organization, Yamawashi's getting into trouble brings him no benefit.
Hiromitsu Morofushi finally placed his phone on the coffee table and rubbed his temples with his eyes closed.
In the past, he had always viewed close contact with Yamawashi as an unavoidable concession, but thinking about it differently, it was actually an intuitive way to quickly assess someone's physical condition; whether they were injured or not would be immediately apparent.
He put the books he had bought into a drawer, stood up, went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Just as he was about to take a sip, his gaze caught the dining table beside him, his movements came to an abrupt halt.
He slowly turned his head, a cold breakfast sat quietly displayed.
Hiromitsu Morofushi put down his cup and began tidying up in silence.
It wasn't prepared specifically for anyone; it was just an extra portion made while preparing his own breakfast. He had anticipated that Yamawashi might not eat it, but by the time he realized it, two portions of steaming hot breakfast were already laid out on the dining table.
Yamawashi had also left breakfast for him like this before; he would always pretend not to notice, that portion of breakfast, having grown cold by the time he returned in the evening, would simply vanish, repeating in such a cycle.
As Hiromitsu Morofushi threw away the breakfast he had made himself, a strange thought suddenly popped into his head: Did Yamawashi also think this way every time she saw the breakfast left untouched?
His first reaction was actually, wondering if he had eaten a proper breakfast today.
Click.
A faint sound came from outside. Hiromitsu Morofushi became instinctively alert, pressing against the wall to observe secretly. Once he saw who it was, he said in surprise, "Ya—"
He paused for a moment, quickly reacted, turned to grab a towel.
A light rain continued through the early morning and began to intensify by noon; before nightfall had even arrived, heavy, dark clouds had already pulled the curtain of night forward. Droplets slid in succession down Yamawashi's gray hair, splashing onto the carpet in the entryway. Yamawashi was soaked to the bone, his gaze cold and his pale lips tightly pursed. His white cotton T-shirt, once dry, now clung to his body, faintly revealing the light red bandages underneath.
It was the first time Hiromitsu Morofushi had seen Yamawashi looking so disheveled; thinking back, he rarely even saw Yamawashi dressed so simply.
In his memory, Yamawashi was invariably composed and poised, whether he was looking at him while holding a cigarette between his fingertips, or sitting quietly reading a book on a sofa, his expression calm and indifferent, his posture relaxed yet upright, with even the creases on his clothes and the strands of hair falling over his forehead being just so, looking like an exquisite oil painting. Even though an alarm was constantly ringing in his heart, he had to admit that the man was a sight to behold.
Some things cannot be hidden. He had always suspected that Yamawashi came from a good background and had received specialized etiquette training; at the very least, it was vastly different from the rumored image of someone who had clawed his way up from being a low-level mercenary and even betrayed his comrades just to keep all the money for himself.
“Use this,” Hiromitsu Morofushi said, handing over a towel. “Are you okay with the injuries on your body? Let me help you re-bandage them.”
Yamawashi passed him without a word, not even sparing him a single glance, as the water stains on the floor trailed behind his footsteps.
Being ignored was only natural; Hiromitsu Morofushi's hand, holding a towel, lowered.
No matter who you are.
That slightly hoarse voice suddenly rang out in the living room, Hiromitsu Morofushi turned his head in surprise.
Yamawashi stopped in his tracks, turning his back to him and saying, "Come and have a talk."
Author's Note:
----------------------
Chapter 6
The leftover breakfast on the dining table had already been poured out. The two owners of this safe house sat on opposite sides of the table, both looking quite calm.
Ultimately, it is my fault that this misunderstanding occurred.
The young man with clear blue eyes paused for a moment, a hint of embarrassment flickering across his expression before it quickly turned to ash, leaving behind only detachment and calm.
"You were the one who took action on that mission in Kanagawa, weren't you?" he said.
The appearance of this sentence disrupted the preset rhythm. Looking at that face, Aotsuki felt a bit dazed.
Whenever Scotland makes a request of him, he always wears this expression. He is not the type of person to take shortcuts; he wouldn't seek him out unless absolutely necessary. He has never refused Scotland, he has always done his utmost to handle things well, yet the next time trouble arises, Scotland still takes his presence for granted and ignores him.
“Maybe I'm just overthinking it, that mission wasn't as thorny as expected, but if someone really was helping in the shadows.. Yamawashi, I think you're the only one who would do such a thing.”
Aotsuki's hand on the table curled slightly.
He thought no one would find out, at least Scotland wouldn't.
With Scotland's abilities, the Organization's missions would be no problem, but during his years in the Organization, even if he only did his part, he had still made enemies. As his lover, Scotland had become a living target.
Scotland could not bring himself to make demands of him, for clearing obstacles in advance upon sensing something was amiss would save both him and Scotland from unnecessary trouble.
Pretending nothing happened was better than letting Scotland think being with him would bring trouble; they were united by interest after all, once that interest was diminished or risks were incurred, they might lose this person.
Yamawashi's expression seemed to soften slightly, Hiromitsu Morofushi pressed his advantage: "If my recent behavior has made you uncomfortable, I apologize. I just wasn't sure if you needed my.."
He weighed his words: "My thanks."
In fact, he hadn't noticed anything wrong with that mission in Kanagawa back then. Now, if he were to recall a certain mission from three years ago, his memory would have long since blurred; this also indirectly confirmed that no sudden complications had occurred in Kanagawa at the time, everything had gone smoothly.
It was only during an interrogation several years later that he realized, with hindsight, that the traces Yamawashi had left behind in his undercover career might be even more extensive than he had imagined.
The Organization had collapsed, but not all its members had been brought to justice. While using Aotsuki as a clue to investigate whether any hidden forces of the Organization remained, he simultaneously hunted down the scattered fugitives.
Yamawashi had been dead for many years. He thought that the name would remain frozen in the brief text of case files, forever tied to that night on the rooftop, but whenever he appeared in the interrogation room, those wanted criminals would often bring up Yamawashi with sarcasm.
Those people mocked him, but they were mostly mocking the deceased Yamawashi. The death trap Yamawashi had designed was too exquisite; once he returned to his identity as Public Security, he became a loathsome mole in the eyes of the Organization who had supposedly framed Yamawashi. Whether out of a sense of shared plight or simply to satisfy their own sharp tongues, those people were more willing to believe that Yamawashi died with unresolved grievances.
Gazing into those cold gray eyes, Hiromitsu Morofushi suddenly wondered: what was Yamawashi thinking at the moment he learned he was an undercover agent? Did he hate him just like those members of the Organization?
Thinking about such things was meaningless. The fact that he was Public Security would not change in the slightest just because Yamawashi was willing to die for him, or because he had returned to Yamawashi before his suicide. He would not allow that night's suicide to repeat itself, so the thought merely flashed by, leaving no trace in his mind.
“Is there anything you need me to do for you?” During interrogation, questioning always holds more advantage than answering. Hiromitsu Morofushi phrased it differently, “Is there anything I can do for you? Since we are lovers, it can't always be you helping me while I have done nothing for you.”
He has done so much for me.
The sentence followed so smoothly and naturally that Hiromitsu Morofushi didn't immediately react to the discrepancy in the subject, until Yamawashi emphasized it once more: "What he has done for me is already more than enough."
The prepared words got stuck in his throat, Hiromitsu Morofushi flashed a confused but polite smile. "Did you just say.. 'he'?"
Aotsuki thought that this conversation could end here.
It was only natural that the other party didn't understand what Scotland meant to him; after all, Scotland himself was likely just as confused, what he needed was never Scotland's understanding.
He was not displeased by the content of this conversation; he just found it ironic. He had never sat down to have such a serious discussion with Scotland himself, going from proposing a relationship to confirming it in less than a minute. Now, he was spending seven whole minutes engaging in a meaningless exchange with an impostor.
.. It was too similar, not just in appearance.
He was somewhat dazed, averting his gaze and forcing himself to wake up.
The expression on the face of the person sitting opposite him was remarkably similar to the expression on Scotland's face when he had first proposed they date. They were separated only by a dining table, yet it felt as though a chasm lay between them; this sense of distance, far beyond what was real, gave him a slight sense of reality that Scotland was still by his side.
Aotsuki pointed to the eyes of the young man who looked exactly like Scotland. The other man hesitated as he touched the corner of his eye, Aotsuki pointed out in a calm voice, "Scotland wouldn't look at me like that."