Phoenix Wright / Gyakuten
Saiban, its settings and characters, are property of Capcom, and are being used
here without permission. This fic is
rated R.
Well Frogs
Chapter 11
By now Odoroki was getting
used to finding Naruhodou in strange places, and so he wasn't startled in the
least when he left
"Hey." Odoroki came up behind him, and tapped his
knuckles against the top of his head.
"You couldn't resist, huh?"
Naruhodou leaned his head
back so he could see the younger man standing over him. "Like I said last night: it's hard to
let go of a case once you're there."
"Well you were right
about the rock," Odoroki told him, pulling out his cell phone. He had convinced Akane to at least let him
get a picture of their discovery before she whisked it off for analysis. "It's a silencer," he explained,
since the photo wasn't entirely clear.
"It was relatively well buried - whoever did it was more interested
in hiding it than the gun."
Naruhodou hummed
thoughtfully. "It won't be worth
anything unless you can tie it to the case," he pointed out.
"Yeah, but it makes
sense. How else did no one hear the
gunshot?" Odoroki tucked his phone
away. "I was going to head over to
the Kitakis and ask them about it. They
don't seem like the type to carry silencers."
Naruhodou stretched, and took
more time than was probably necessary in getting to his feet. "Mind if I tag along?"
Despite his apparent
laziness, there was still a sharp gleam in Naruhodou's eyes that Odoroki
couldn't say no to. "All right, but
I rode my bike. It's an awfully long way
if we walk…"
"I brought mine,
too," Naruhodou reassured, motioning to an old, beat up blue bicycle
leaning against the next bench over. "Lead
the way?"
Wow, he really is into this. Odoroki felt
his sprits perking as he nodded, and retrieved his bicycle. "Oh, by the way," he said,
"what was it you wanted to show Detective Houdzuki last night when you
wandered off? If you don't mind me asking."
"Hm? Oh, right." Naruhodou gave his PaPa hat a tug to make
sure it was on securely before mounting his bicycle - Odoroki couldn't help but
wonder if the tiny camera was on again, but he didn't ask. "I showed her the snack shop we were at
yesterday," he explained. "We
found the trash from Yuuri Katagi's little shaved ice incident. It just might give him an alibi."
Odoroki considered that for a
moment. "I guess that's true,"
he murmured. "I hadn't even
considered him as a suspect… It would have
been hard for him to shoot someone, dump the gun, and then come back into the park and buy dessert…"
"That's what it seems
like for now. But you shouldn't discard
any suspect until you're positive."
Naruhodou started pedaling down the sidewalk with Odoroki close
behind. "But you know that already,
right?"
"Right…" Odoroki winced a little, but put the heavy
memories quickly behind him as he followed Naruhodou down the sidewalk.
*****
It was a long ride to the
Kitaki mansion, but it gave Odoroki time to think. One of the two mysteries dogging him when he
set out may have been solved: Mr. and Mrs. Kitaki weren't the only ones with monoka at the restaurant that
night. Whether or not Kanako had been
the one to plant it he couldn’t prove yet, but if Akane was taking a closer
look at the Katagi because of it…
As soon as the mansion was in
view, Odoroki was able to make out a tall figure standing outside the
gate. He slowed a little involuntarily;
handling Takita was one thing, but he wasn't sure how ready he was to take on
Tsudzuo. Not having much choice, he rode
up to the entrance with Naruhodou and hopped off his bike. "Um…hello, Mr. Akagami."
Tsudzuo was leaning against
the doorway frame, his hands in his pockets, a half-burned cigarette pressed
between his down-turned lips. He
regarded Odoroki dully and offered only a curt nod as acknowledgement.
"Um…" Odoroki glanced to the house and back. Guess
I'll just ask if Takita's in.
"This is Naruhodou," he introduced the man at his side, who
was casually leaning over his handlebars.
"He's…my assistant. Can we
talk to Takita?"
"No."
Odoroki frowned at the abrupt
answer. "Well…why not? I was hoping to get his side of the story
from last night."
Tsudzuo flicked ash off the
end of his cigarette. "He's busy
inside."
Naruhodou stood up a little
straighter. He suddenly looked more
attentive, though Odoroki had no idea why.
He ignored it for now, keeping his focus on Tsudzuo. "Okay, but then…can I talk to you? You and Takita were together all night,
right?"
"Yes." Another simple answer. Tsudzuo wasn't even looking at him now--he
was scanning up and down the street as if waiting for something.
"At the shooting range,
right? And you said the police confirmed
your alibi?"
"Yes."
Odoroki stared at him,
thinking that even Tsudzuo couldn't be that unhelpful, but he got nothing
more. He looked to Naruhodou, but who
only smirked, and mouthed, Assistant?
Odoroki sighed. "Listen, Mr. Akagami…" With Naruhodou at his side he felt a bit more
confident than facing the man alone, and he was just desperate enough for
answers to push himself. "I'm only
asking questions because I'm trying to help Mr. Kitaki - your boss. To build a case I need every detail I can get
my hands on. Do you want to help me or
not?"
Tsudzuo regarded him coldly,
and at first Odoroki feared he had reached a dead end after all. But then the Underboss
rolled the cigarette to the other side of his mouth, and nodded shortly
again. "The police confirmed our
alibi," he repeated. "It takes
fifteen minutes to drive between the range and the restaurant. As soon we dropped off the Boss and his wife
we went to the range, and checked in around the time of the murder. We came back when Takita received the text
from Prosecutor Garyuu. I gave them my
gun. They confirmed it was not used in
the murder."
Drawing any kind of emotion
out of Tsudzuo's voice was nearly impossible, but as far as Odoroki could tell
he sounded truthful; or at least, his story added up. "Ms. Kitaki told me that only three of
you can get one of your guns out of storage," Odoroki asked while he had a
chance of getting an answer. "Is
that true?"
"Yes. It could only have been one of us."
Tsudzuo shifted his posture
slightly, allowing Odoroki to catch a glance of just such a weapon tucked in
the back of his pants. Though Odoroki
should not have been surprised, he flinched back a little anyway. Again, he couldn't be sure if Tsduzuo's move
was deliberate or not. Before he could
work up the courage for another question, he was alerted to the streets by a
squeal of tires, and the flashy yellow sports car that was careening towards
them.
"Looks like
trouble," Naruhodou remarked, pushing his bicycle up against the wall of
the Kitaki manor.
Odoroki followed his example,
his heart beginning to pound as he watched Tsudzuo step away from the
gate. He had had enough of
confrontations lately, but the realization that this time both sides were
armed, with no police to exert authority, put him especially on edge. Swallowing hard, he backed up to Naruhodou's
side.
The car screeched to a halt
without any attempt at parking to the curb, and out poured Yuuri and three of
his thug friends. They had changed their
clothes since Odoroki saw them last--Yuuri was dressed in another unflattering
ensemble of a canary yellow jacket with no shirt beneath and tight black
pants. He held his firearm even more
brazenly than Tsudzuo, brandishing the handgun openly as he headed for his
enemy's home.
"Should we call the
police?" Odoroki whispered, reaching for his cell phone.
"They won't get here in
time," Naruhodou replied just as quietly.
"Stay ready."
Ready for what? Odoroki continued to back away. It didn't look as if Yuuri and his friends
were paying any attention to him and Naruhodou, but there was no telling what
they would do if they decided they didn't want witnesses.
"It's the kid we're
after," Yuuri sneered as he stopped in front of Tsudzuo, his gun hanging
in a loose grip at his side. "Do
yourself a favor, Red, and just back off again."
Even if Tsudzuo had by now
proven himself as a man of few words, Odoroki was still expecting some kind of
retort or banter. Tsudzuo offered
nothing but a scowl before taking action.
He kicked out with his heavy boot, striking Yuuri's left knee with a
heavy crack that caught the man off guard and quickly felled him. Odoroki gaped as the surrounding men drew
knives, but he wasn't able to watch the commencing fight--something yanked at
his hair spikes from above.
"Come on!" It was Naruhodou, who had--to Odoroki's
shock--already climbed up onto the Kitaki's outer wall. He was reaching down for him. "Give me your hand!"
Odoroki did so, bracing a
foot against the seat of his bicycle for leverage as Naruhodou helped pull him
onto the shingles. Just as he was
dragging himself fully up one of the pistols went off, and Odoroki nearly
tumbled over the other side into the Kitaki manor in his surprise. Despite the danger he had to look back, just
in time to see Tsudzuo breaking one of the lackey's noses against his knee.
"Come on before they see
you," Naruhodou instructed seriously.
He started to climb down the other side.
"But--" Odoroki hesitated, and before Naruhodou could
slip out of reach he snatched up the PaPa hat.
If they end up killing each other,
someone has to know what happened, he thought determinedly, pointing the
hidden camera down at the commotion. It was Yuuri that started it!
Yuuri and two of his friends
were already down; one was lying unconscious over the hood of the sports car,
the other leaning against the wall as he clutched his bleeding nose. The third was brandishing a knife, but when
Tsudzuo advanced towards him--looking untouched--he dropped the weapon with a
yelp and turned to flee.
It took Odoroki a moment to
locate Yuuri, who was crawling away towards his gun, which had apparently been
tossed to the other side of the car during the struggle. "Prison isn't good enough for you,"
he was whimpering as he went, nearing the weapon. "Next time I'm gonna put a bullet in
your heart--just like I did your little brat!"
Tsudzuo stalked around the
car towards him slowly. He didn't seem
to realize how close Yuuri was to reclaiming his weapon. "You can try," he invited in his
usual monotone.
From his higher vantage
point, Odoroki was able to see Yuuri snatch up the handgun, then hide it under
his body as Tsudzuo came upon him. He
shifted on the roof anxiously. I have to warn him.
"You…you unbearable wuss," Yuuri spat, rolling onto his
elbow with the handgun still hidden beneath him. "You're always one step too slow."
"Go home," Tsudzuo
told him coldly. He stopped just in
front of Yuuri, calmly flicking his cigarette away. How it had remained in his mouth all this
time was beyond Odoroki. "I
promised I'd kill you, but not today."
Yuuri grimaced and tried to
sit up higher. "What are you
waiting for? The trial?" He laughed, a high, weasel-like giggle. "The police are at my place now. They're gonna find it."
Tsudzuo pulled a box of
cigarettes out of his jacket, picking out one to press between his lips. "So?"
Yuuri's humor faded when he
failed to get a response out of the Kitaki Underboss. "I'll give't to them myself."
"Go ahead."
Tsudzuo turned away as if
ready to leave Yuuri behind, and when the latter growled and began to shift his
weight, Odoroki couldn't hold his warning back any longer. "Mr. Akagami, he's armed!"
Tsudzuo stopped just as Yuuri
swung the gun out from behind his back, and though Odoroki flattered himself
against the roof for fear of gunfire, no shot was heard. The men stood frozen, except for Yuuri's arm,
which was shaking just enough to be noticeable.
His finger tensed against the trigger but did not pull it.
"Kill me," Tsudzuo
told him, his voice disturbingly even, "and it all goes away."
The words meant nothing to
Odoroki, but they spread a chill through him regardless. He clutched at the tiles beneath him as he
watched the charged standoff playing out before him. It lasted only a few seconds, and then with a
growl of frustration Yuuri lowered his gun, letting it clatter on the pavement.
"You fucking prick," he whined. "You won't be able to talk to me like
that when I--"
Tsudzuo hopped backwards, and
his heel flashed behind him in another sharp kick, this one impacting soundly
against Yuuri's jaw. The younger man
barely managed a yelp before the back of his head smacked against the pavement
and rendered him easily unconscious.
It was over. As Tsudzuo headed back for the Kitaki gate
the last of Yuuri's conscious men scrambled to his feet and beat a hasty
retreat, splattering blood from his nose along the way. Odoroki continued to press himself to the
wall, the knit hat clutched in white knuckles, until Naruhodou stepped
cautiously through the gate below.
"Are you all right?" he asked up with honest concern.
"Y-Yeah," Odoroki
replied shakily. He couldn't take his
eyes off of Tsudzuo as he came to a halt just below him. Now that he had a closer look at him he could
see that Tsudzuo's jaw was bruised, and part of the zipper had been ripped off
his jacket in the struggle. "Are
you, Mr. Akagami?"
"Fine," he replied
predictably. His eyes drifted to the
PaPa hat.
Realizing that the way he was
holding it must have appeared suspicious, Odoroki shoved the hat over his head
and started to climb down the wall.
Naruhodou gave him a hand from the ground until he was steady. "That's a tough occupation you
have," Naruhodou said to Tsudzuo dryly.
"Yes." Tsudzuo glanced back towards the scene, and
snorted quietly. "Someone might
have heard the shot. You should
go."
"What about you?"
Odoroki asked incredulously. He glanced
with a wince to the two unconscious men sprawled on and next to Yuuri's
obnoxious car. "Will you be all
right…?"
"They'll leave when they
wake up." Tsudzuo headed through
the gate, clearly intending not to spend any more of his time on them.
Odoroki licked his lips, and
steeled himself for one last attempt.
"Mr. Akagami. Can I ask you
one more question?"
Tsudzuo paused, turning his
head just enough to look Odoroki in the eye.
He didn’t speak but it seemed like permission enough. Odoroki tried to stand a little taller. "I know how much you care about
Takita. So where were you over the
summer? When he was arrested…"
Tsudzuo's eyes narrowed, and
though the sternness of his expression alone was enough to make Odoroki's skin
crawl, that sensation was accompanied by a familiar clenching around his
wrist. He's hiding something again, he realized, a fresh surge of
adrenaline flowing through him. I wasn't wrong before. His eyes scanned up and down the man in front
of him, anxious to find some clue that would lead him to the heart of whatever
lie Tsudzuo was about to tell. I might not have another chance to catch
him--
"I was grounded,"
Tsudzuo said gruffly. He continued
inside and shut the heavy wooden gate behind him, leaving Naruhodou and Odoroki
on the outside.
"Damn." Odoroki sighed as his body relaxed once
more. "I could have had him…"
Naruhodou moved to their
bicycles, pulling them away from the wall and checking to make sure nothing had
been damaged. "Tipped you off, did
he? Me too."
Odoroki turned quickly to
face him. "What?"
"When you asked about
the kid, he locked up," Naruhodou explained. He pulled a small jewel out of his hoodie
that Odoroki had heard much talk about, but never actually seen. "Takita's not in there."
Odoroki stared down at the
jewel with wide, curious eyes, up until Naruhodou pocketed it again. "That doesn’t seem right, does it? Why would Mr. Akagami let him go anywhere alone
at a time like this?"
"Do you want to try
looking for him? You have his cell
number, don't you?"
"Yeah, but…" Odoroki frowned as he removed the PaPa hat
and poked his hair spikes upright once more.
"There's something I want to check on first," he murmured,
fingering the camera button. He wasn't
sure if Naruhodou had heard the same exchange he had, but there was a chance of
even more evidence being uncovered.
Whether or not Takita would like where it took them, he was determined
to know the full story.
"We have to find the
Katagi residence," he told Naruhodou urgently. "I think there's one more thing we need
before the trial tomorrow."
*****
After seven years of juggling
two careers, Kyouya had refined limited-sleep-functionality to an art. A change of clothes and an all natural energy
drink did wonders to refuel even the weariest body. Armed with his signature purple coat and a
vegetable drink in his pocket he made it swiftly through his interrogation with
the ever-stoic Mr. Kitaki. Nothing the
man had to say convinced Kyouya that he was on the wrong track.
With Akane still busy bugging
the forensics department he had a bit more time before they could meet for
lunch. He caught a ride with a patrol
officer to one important scene that he had neglected until then: The Katagi
household.
"We haven't seen the
son, Yuuri Katagi," an officer at the scene admitted once he had
arrived. "They managed to sneak out sometime this
morning. We have a car out looking for him
now."
"I'll give you three guesses,"
Kyouya replied with a smirk as he headed inside. "Let me know if he turns up."
There was something
chillingly nostalgic about the interior of the house; this was not Kyouya's
first time calling on the city's flashiest yakuza, and every time he stepped
into the foyer he got a few goose bumps along his arms. In stark contrast to their rivals, the Katagi
family held very Western tastes. The
foyer was decorated with modern, minimalist art, and the floors were covered in
polished marble tile. It was like
stepping into a museum. Even after
Kyouya removed his shoes he felt an instinctual sensation of guilt knowing his
crummy old socks would be conveying him across the near-sterile room. All in all, it reminded him too much of the
home he'd grown up in.
A woman's pained voice echoed
back from the next room: Mrs. Katagi, lamenting her circumstances to one of the
officers. Just like home indeed, Kyouya thought with a dry smirk as he
followed her cries into the dining room.
"I'm in mourning," Kanako sobbed to the
pair of officers that were standing watch over her. She had traded in her lavender suit for a
black one, complete with funeral veil.
"Can't this wait?"
"The officers will be
finished soon," one of the men assured her. "They won't make a mess."
Kyouya strolled over to them,
his fingers fiddling against each other--they felt naked without his usual
silver accessories. "Just tell us
where you keep the guns," he said brightly, "and we'll be out of your
hair in no time."
Kanako gave a little shudder
of horror. "I don't know where they
keep those dreadful things!"
"No?" Kyouya leaned forward to meet her at eye
level. "What about the
silencers?"
"I just said I don't know," Kanako retorted
thinly, though Kyouya easily noticed some of the color leaving her face.
Kyouya rolled his eyes as he
straightened up. "Well,
officer?" he asked of the policeman standing beside her. "Can you jog the good woman's
memory?"
"We found several
firearms behind the wine cellar in the basement," he reported. "We suspect there are more hidden in the
house."
Kyouya tsked at Kanako
disapprovingly. "Each one of them
is a separate fine, you know."
"What do I care?"
Kanako wailed, pulling out a fresh handkerchief. "My husband is dead!"
She started sobbing into the
new cloth, and Kyouya wasn't feeling quite chipper enough to try and pry
anything else out of her. "I'm
going to take a look around," he told the officer instead. "If I get lost, come find me, all
right?"
"Yes, sir," the
officer chuckled wryly. He flashed
Kyouya a look as if to say "please don't leave me with her," but the
poor kid would have to wait a while longer.
Kyouya wandered upstairs,
peeking into the different rooms until he came across what must have been the
master bedroom. It too was decidedly
Western in decoration, with tall, wooden dressers, thick drapes, and a king
sized four-poster bed. Kyouya wasn't
sure what he was looking for as he peeked around the bedside tables and walk-in
closet, only that something about Kanako's false grief had tipped him off. She put on a good act, and maybe his
instincts were skewed, but he was still fairly certain there was something more
behind her tear-smeared make-up.
After his initial search,
Kyouya was drawn to Kanako's vanity: a small desk set up near the balcony, with
a short, cushioned chair and a broad mirror.
It held a distant fascination with him: he remembered creeping into his
parents' room when he was a child and sneaking up on his mother when she sat at
a desk not unlike this one, applying her make-up in the morning. It was almost like a game sometimes, trying
to catch a glance of his mother's face in the mirror before she was aware of
him.
Kyouya reached out, touching
two fingertips to the cool glass.
Strange transformations took place within a woman's mirror. His mother had often referred to it as
"putting her face on" and as a boy he had believed for a long time
this to be the literal truth. There
seemed to be no other explanation for the hollow look her eyes took on when
reflected in the glass, before she had prepared herself for the day.
Kyouya's musings were cut off
abruptly by a muffled beeping noise. He
checked his watch and his phone, at first thinking one of them to be the
culprit, and finally located it as coming from the bottom drawer of Kanako's
vanity. It was the only drawer that held
a lock, and it was securely shut.
"Let's find out what's
inside you," Kyouya said with a smile as he pulled out his key ring. Lately he had started keeping a small pocket
knife on it for occasions when a lock stood in the way of reaching something
important. It was a vanity lock after
all, not a safe, and by inserting the blade and giving it a few good twists he
was able to jimmy the mechanism into opening.
Though he probably should have
been wearing gloves--Akane would have scolded him if she saw--he opened the
drawer with his bare hands, and there found a few very curious items: a watch,
a half-scorched scrap of paper, and a collection of small pill bottles.
Deciding to be a bit more careful,
Kyouya pulled his jacket sleeve over his hand before attempting to remove the
items. The watch, which was the cause of
the quiet alarm, appeared to have been set to go off every few hours. He shut it off and reached for the fist pill
bottle, which the label identified as a prescription for anti-depressants.
"More and more like
home," Kyouya said with a humorless smirk as he set the bottle on the
vanity, along with the watch.
"Almost like someone's playing a trick on me."
He opened up the scrap of
paper, scanning its charred edges with interest. It looked as if someone had tried to destroy
the note and was stopped halfway through, because some of the writing was still
visible. In small, precisely written
characters, it read:
"Don't
come to the park. This is between me and
him. There's no reason for you to be
involved."
Kyouya read the words over a
few times, and even placed the paper on the vanity to have the benefit of its
magnifying mirror and brighter lighting.
There was nothing else to be made out from the burned scrap. "He was right," he murmured, eyes
narrowing. "She just might be a
suspect after all."
The closest officer was in
Yuuri's room, and Kyouya called him over to bag the newly discovered
evidence. While the man was doing so, he
took his chance to glance through the belongings of Mr. Flashy Yakuza
himself. "Older than me, and still
living with his parents," Kyouya thought aloud. "Makes you cry."
Yuuri's clothes from the
night before were flung across the bed, as if he had changed in a hurry and
expected someone else to clean up after him.
Kyouya knew they had already been checked for GSR and determined clean,
but he took a peek anyway. He shook his
head at the by now deeply-set cherry stain covering Yuuri's shirt and the
inside of his obnoxious white vest.
"You're asking for it wearing a getup like that," he chuckled.
The officer returned with his
evidence in bags, and with a quick thanks Kyouya took it with him
downstairs. As he passed the dining room
he called in to the officer he'd abandoned earlier. "Okay, time to take her in."
"What!?" Kanako leapt to her feet, her mouth gaping
incredulously. "Me? Why?"
"I have some questions
for you, that's why." Kyouya waved
for them to come out, and by then the officer was more than willing to
comply. He put a stern hand on Kanako's
shoulder to usher her into the foyer and towards the door.
"This is
ridiculous," Kanako whimpered, ducking her head as if she could hide
behind her veil. "Why can't you all
leave me alone!?"
Kyouya followed them
out. As annoying as it would be, he
would need a ride back to the station with them if he was to interrogate
her. "A prosecutor's work is never
done," he teased himself as he hopped down the steps towards the driveway.
A taxi pulled up to the curb,
and Kyouya was more surprised than he ought to have been when he saw a pair of
familiar brown hair spikes peek out above the open door. Him
again. "Get her buckled
in," he told the officer.
"I'll be right there."
The rest of Odoroki emerged;
he looked as bright-eyed as ever, his suit and hair impeccably composed. I bet
he even got a full night of sleep, Kyouya thought with bitter amusement as
he waited for Odoroki to spot him--which he did rather quickly. Maybe
even a shower. Lucky bastard.
Odoroki trotted over, and it
wasn’t until he was rather close that Kyouya noticed he seemed a little
pale. As soon as he was in range Kyouya
thumped him on the forehead with his palm.
"Good morning, Odeko."
Odoroki jumped at the unexpected
greeting, and rubbed his forehead irritably.
At least it gave him a little more color. "What was that for?"
"You're the one charging
up the driveway like you think you're getting in the house," Kyouya
replied, smirking. "Sorry, but I
can't let you in there."
"But…" Odoroki fidgeted anxiously, glancing past
Kyouya towards the open front door.
"But there might be important evidence in there."
"Oh?" The almost too-interested tone of his voice
made Kyouya extra curious. "Do you
have something in mind?"
Despite his uncanny ability
to uncover lies on the witness stand, Odoroki was no good at lying himself; the
answer was written all over his face long before he admitted it. "I overheard Yuuri Katagi say he might
be hiding something."
"Yuuri?" Kyouya frowned, and after a short moment of
internal debate he gave a sigh of surrender.
"All right. You found that
silencer for us, I'll show you this.
But this is your last lucky break."
He offered up the charred
letter, and though it was a little harder to make out the words through the
plastic evidence back, Odoroki was all too eager to get his hands on it. He cradled the bag carefully as he poured
over the words several times, just as Kyouya had. "It's half burnt. Was there anything else?"
"Just this," Kyouya
admitted. "In Kanako's
vanity."
"Mrs. Katagi? But…"
Odoroki reluctantly handed the evidence back. Kyouya could almost see the gears in that
giant forehead of his whirling to life.
"The night of the murder, she said that someone told her not to go
to the park. Is this what she was
referring to?"
Kyouya shrugged. "Could be. But if she knew what was going to happen,
that might make her guilty of conspiracy."
Deciding it best to leave before Odoroki dug any more information out of
him, he turned to head for the patrol car once more. "Tomorrow's trial ought to be
interesting."
He only got a few steps
before Odoroki's voice halted him.
"Prosecutor Garyuu!"
Kyouya winced just slightly,
and the expression was gone by the time he turned back. "Yeah?"
"That note…." Odoroki's fists tightened at his sides as if
fighting with himself the same way Kyouya had a moment ago. "I think… Mr. Akagami might have known
about it, too."
Again, Kyouya found himself
more surprised by Odoroki than he should have been. They had already cleared Tsudzuo Akagami as a
suspect, but if Odoroki was right and the case was turning more towards a whole
conspiracy, it might do them some good to look into him again. "You're sure?"
"No… it's just a
hunch."
"A
hunch." At least that solved the mystery of what had
happened to Yuuri--if he was with the Kitaki Underboss, they might have to send
an ambulance instead of a patrol car to pick up him and his boys.
Kyouya abruptly grinned at
the short defense attorney. "Thanks
for the tip. But you ought to be more
careful about giving out information like that.
You might end up winning my case for me."
"Aren't you the same
way?" Odoroki retorted with a hint of a smirk himself. "Besides…there's only one truth. Any evidence we gather is going to point to
that, so…we might as well share it, right?"
Kyouya's grin slowly melted
from his face. Odoroki's naïve optimism,
that trusting little smile…wore at him.
Defense attorneys weren't supposed to talk like that. He should have known by now that such was
Odoroki's nature, but it was still distractingly annoying.
"If you say
so." Kyouya offered a half-hearted
wave and turned once again to make his exit.
"Good luck tomorrow, Odeko."
"You, too!" Odoroki
called after him as he returned to his taxi.
*****
Naruhodou watched his young
companion carefully as he climbed back into the taxi with him and gave the
driver directions for their office. He
smiled slowly. "Do you think that
was a good idea?" he asked Odoroki lightly. "Showing your hand like that?"
"Yeah," Odoroki
replied immediately. "Yeah, I
do." He glanced over. "Wouldn't you have done the same?"
"Maybe," Naruhodou conceded. He settled back in his seat as the taxi pulled away from the curb once more, and didn't say anything else on the subject.