This time, near the end of October, he forced the undercover agent hidden within the Public Security to come out of hiding ahead of schedule.
The member of the organization codenamed Cognac had been undercover in the Public Security Bureau for four whole years, he still clearly remembered that the man had a scar on his forehead.
Hiromitsu Morofushi was in a pleasant mood, which made the impending interrogation feel much less nerve-wracking.
He had experienced this kind of interrogation once before; he had managed to escape unscathed even when he was a traitor's lover, let alone now that Yamawashi was safe.
He was sensitive to time and numbers; even while undergoing interrogation, it did not affect his ability to remain alert to key information. The last time he had seen Yamawashi was seventeen days ago, he had used those seventeen days to resolve a long-standing trouble that had been weighing on his mind.
In his daze, a thought as thin as a thread pushed up from the depths of his heart like a sudden, sharp spike: if possible, he truly wanted to see Yamawashi immediately.
The surrounding noise faded, the surroundings suddenly fell silent, a stillness just like when he was in the same room as Yamawashi. Hiromitsu Morofushi slowly lifted his head, squinting through the strands of hair clinging to his cheek, saw a silhouette standing before him against the light.
That person said nothing, merely unlocked his handcuffs and walked away without looking back, leaving several silent figures lying in the corner.
Hiromitsu Morofushi wanted to call out to that man, only to find he could not speak. He stood up while clutching his abdomen and walked out, leaning against the wall, followed the sound until he found Yamawashi in a nearby alleyway.
He had seen Yamawashi on many missions, perhaps he had seen Yamawashi on missions more often than he had seen Yamawashi back at the safehouse, but this was the first time he had personally seen Yamawashi give up using a dagger.
Yamawashi's footsteps were steady but incredibly fast. As he walked toward a car, he raised his hand. With a loud bang, his punch shattered the car window, sending glass flying. Yamawashi did not dodge the shards, the terrified person inside the car was unable to dodge Yamawashi either.
He dragged the guy who had left the interrogation room midway out through the car window. Grabbing him by the hair, he took a quick look at his face to confirm his identity. After the first punch, Hiromitsu Morofushi saw nothing but spraying blood, by the second punch, he could no longer even hear the curses.
Hiromitsu Morofushi swallowed subconsciously, the pain and numbness in his body receding as he stared fixedly at the scene.
Yamawashi loosened his collar and casually opened the car door. The person inside lost their support and slid out along with the door, but this was not the end. Yamawashi remained calm, slamming the door shut several times with great force without saying a word throughout the process; the only sound was the crisp cracking of bone. The other person went from cursing to begging for mercy, then to claiming he was only following orders, until finally, in a faint, dying breath, he said he would never touch Scotland again and would never dare again. Yamawashi released the door and walked away, leaving the man and the car behind.
Looking at the grey-haired man walking toward him, whose cheeks were still stained with blood, Hiromitsu Morofushi stood up and said, "Thank.."
A sharp gust of wind from a punch suddenly closed in. Hiromitsu Morofushi's pupils contracted slightly, yet his body remained motionless.
A drop of blood trickled down his wrist, splashed into the dust, rolled twice before disappearing.
That bloodied fist, mere inches away, finally came to a halt before his eyes, not advancing a single inch further.
Yamawashi said nothing, passing him with a cold expression.
Hiromitsu Morofushi took one last look at the Organization member—the same man who had been interrogating him only half an hour ago, but was now covered in blood and hanging halfway out of the car door—before turning to give chase. However, the man's figure had already vanished from sight.
Author's Note:
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Chapter 10
Cognac had been an undercover agent within the Public Security Bureau for four years. Even if he hadn't achieved much, given his years of hard work, the Organization would not allow Cognac to remain in the hands of the Public Security Bureau. After all, Cognac held a significant amount of intelligence regarding the Organization; even if it meant death, they absolutely could not let him defect to the police.
Many people participated in this operation, most of whom were codenamed members already confirmed through Rum's identity, Scotland was among them.
At the ambush site, Hiromitsu Morofushi wiped his scope. Yamawashi used to love cleaning his daggers; since Yamawashi was gone, he had also grown accustomed to cleaning that dagger, now, seeing his own sniper rifle, he couldn't help but feel the urge to wipe it down as well.
Someone walked over, exuding a sense of ease that felt out of place compared to the others.. It was only natural, considering it was Rye.
Hiromitsu Morofushi gave a greeting, Rye sat down beside him, laying his sniper rifle flat. While adjusting it, he said, "Congratulations, Scotland."
“What do you mean by that?”
Congratulations on finally reconciling with Yamawashi.. I even heard about how Yamawashi caused a huge scene in the Organization because of you, even all the way in Italy.
Hiromitsu Morofushi: ".." They hadn't made up.
Akai Shuichi was slightly surprised. "Well, perhaps they aren't as close as I imagined, but at least some of the relationship has been mended, which is a good thing."
Hiromitsu Morofushi: ".." The relationship hadn't been mended at all.
Akai Shuichi: "?"
“Just what on earth did you do to make him that angry?”
Akai Shuichi shook his head and picked up the sniper rifle. Looking through the scope, he saw the road where the Japanese Public Security was about to escort Cognac. He narrowed his eyes and sighed with emotion, "To be able to reach this level without even reconciling, Yamawashi truly cares about you."
Hiromitsu Morofushi fell silent, offering no reply.
He could understand the logic behind Yamawashi doing this.
Yamawashi was standing up for Scotland, but not for him.
He thought of the sarcasm he heard when thinking about the future interrogation of the arrested Organization members.
He didn't know that Yamawashi had been resolving his troubles in this manner all along. He owed Yamawashi a thank you, perhaps more than just one; he should thank Yamawashi for every instance of stepping up and establishing authority on his behalf in the shadows, even if Yamawashi didn't need his superficial, deceptive gratitude.
The mission has begun.
**
The Organization ultimately failed to reclaim Cognac, but Scotland's bullets did hit Cognac, so the trip wasn't entirely in vain, the police didn't gain anything more.
Hiromitsu Morofushi and Akai Shuichi, who was still wearing Rye's skin, exchanged polite, fake smiles before each of them withdrew from the scene in a good mood.
On the way back to the safe house, he bought the bento that Yamawashi liked again.
Actually, it didn't suit his taste, but every time he passed by, he would always find himself reaching out to take the packaged lunchbox before he could even react. He couldn't let food go to waste, so dinner was settled this way time after time.
He opened the door with a key, as expected, it was pitch black. Hiromitsu Morofushi was changing his shoes in the entryway when his movements suddenly froze.
The living room lights flickered on without warning. Hiromitsu Morofushi looked up, only to realize there was someone standing beside him; he breathed a sigh of relief once he saw the person's face clearly.
The warm light cast down from above, yet it did not make Yamawashi look any more gentle; a shadow seemed to shroud Yamawashi's face, making those gray eyes appear even more devoid of emotion, as if he were a lifelike ice sculpture.
No matter how many times it happens, I still find this ability to hide oneself to be terrifying.
Hiromitsu Morofushi suppressed the strange feeling in his heart and said with a smile, "You're back. Have you had dinner yet?"
"You killed Cognac," Yamawashi said.
Are you also paying attention to what happened to Cognac?
In fact, Cognac didn't actually die; forging a person's death only requires the right timing and enough blood bags. As one of the only two snipers in the room, at most, Rye could vaguely sense something was wrong, but even if he did realize it, Rye would never expose the secret.
From this perspective, Yamawashi was under immense pressure. Hiromitsu Morofushi stood up: "It's a pity we couldn't take Cognac back, but being dead is better than being controlled by the Public Security."
Yamawashi's expression seemed to change, though it was only for a fleeting moment.
Yamawashi has a connection to Cognac?
Given Yamawashi's status, it is not impossible that they have had some connection.
Just as he was contemplating how to test him, the frost-cold person in front of him spoke: "Cognac is not dead."
Hiromitsu Morofushi feigned confusion. "I saw with my own eyes that he was hit by my bullet. There might be a chance of survival if it hit other parts, but if the bullet pierced through the eye.."
Yamawashi suddenly took a step forward, Hiromitsu Morofushi instinctively took half a step back, his back pressing against the door. He and Yamawashi were not strangers to being this close; they were certainly not a conventional couple, but they had lived under the same roof for a time. Closing the distance when intimate and maintaining distance when calm—this was their unique way of interacting, at this moment, it could already be described as a breach of boundaries.
When it came to maintaining boundaries, Yamawashi was even more persistent than he was.
Unable to judge what the other person was thinking from his gaze and expression, Hiromitsu Morofushi's fingers secretly clenched into a fist; it was a survival instinct. No matter how many times it happened, the next time he had close contact with Yamawashi, he wouldn't be able to help but think: this person is too dangerous.
Yamawashi said, "You are a police officer."
The surroundings fell silent in an instant, as if even the world outside the window had simultaneously grown still.
Hiromitsu Morofushi found his voice: ".. You shouldn't make jokes like that so lightly, Yamawashi."
He raised his hand to push the person in front of him away, but failed. In terms of martial arts, he was a step behind Yamawashi, who came from a mercenary background. His peripheral vision quickly swept over the handgun on the sofa, Hiromitsu Morofushi's face was full of helplessness as he continued to speak.
Yamawashi, you really need to calm down.. Ever since you returned from Hokkaido, you haven't been yourself. How long has it been since you've had a proper rest?
The Public Security is performing in coordination with the Organization's rescue plan. Cognac's death is an illusion created to use his situation to one's advantage, but only the person who fires the final shot can ensure that Cognac does not actually die.
Yamawashi was a person capable of casting aside all distractions, Hiromitsu Morofushi felt his nerves throbbing wildly inside his skull. Just as he was about to speak again, before he could even clearly see the afterimage, a dagger slashed across his neck with a "swish."
Touch discovered the anomaly even before sight. The chill against the side of his neck caused Hiromitsu Morofushi's body to stiffen, his chaotic thoughts were instantly severed. In that moment, only a single sentence remained, one that even he felt was meaningless:
“Yamawashi, are you intending to make a move against me?”
The voice was far too familiar, that face was devoid of any flaws; Aotsuki dazed for a fleeting moment, the hand gripping the dagger loosened unconsciously.
This brief moment of distraction gave the opponent an opening.
A heavy palm strike landed on his wrist bone, causing the dagger to slip. Aotsuki reached out with lightning speed to catch it, regripping the hilt. Sensing the person approaching from behind, he switched to a reverse grip and swung the dagger forcefully backward.
Click.
It was the sound of a round being chambered.
The muzzle was already pressed against the back of his head.
“Maybe we both should calm down for a moment.”
Scotland's voice rang out from behind him, his tone as calm as ever, just the way he liked it.
“First, you suddenly broke up with me for no reason, then you decided I wasn't Scotland and stopped coming back to the safe house, now that you've finally returned, you've started suspecting that I'm a police officer.. Isn't that too contradictory? Yamawashi, I never imagined a day would come when I would be facing you at gunpoint.”
Contradictory.
Of course it's a contradiction.
That person would never cooperate with the police.
Then where on earth did this "Scotland" come from?
Could there really be two people in this world so similar by nature?
His most pressing question was where the real Scotland was right now.
Aotsuki lowered his eyes to judge the distance based on the shadows, clarifying his answer through action.
Those years of training camps and mercenary experiences ensured that he was invincible in close combat.
The situation took a sudden turn. The handgun skidded several meters across the floor before slamming heavily into a corner. Aotsuki looked down from his height at the person pinned beneath him; he had intentionally flipped them over, forcing himself not to consider that face which would make him hold back.
You are much more talkative than Scotland.
Actually, Scotland is not antisocial; Scotland has many friends and can talk to anyone, it's just that they don't share any common topics.
“If you like talking, then keep talking. Where is Scotland? Otherwise..”
The blade pushed forward slightly, piercing the skin on the back of his neck, the person beneath him suddenly interrupted his questioning: "Yamawashi!"
After several seconds of complete silence, the guy with his head pressed firmly against the floor gasped, "You don't want anything to happen to Scotland, do you?"
Aotsuki's pupils contracted slightly.
The person being held back by him struggled to turn his head, half of his face still bearing the red marks from being pressed heavily against the floor. As their eyes met, Aotsuki saw his own blurred reflection in those eyes.