Ch.002 – Thither here – 02

"Of course this would happen."

Every single time I want to try—not even stepping on the start line yet… Nothing good happened.

It's been several hours after the metal bar slammed shut behind him with a hollow clang. He let his back stick to the corner of the room, sitting down on the cold concrete. With cold, night winter air enveloping him.

"Suddenly I'm drug courier now...? Fucking hell…"

His thought shift to Tetsuo. His mannerism, his laugh, and the way he always joked like some washed-up dad from an old sitcom. All the way to his kindness, and about early afternoon meals they often share after cleaning up the restaurant.

Was that… even real…?

"Is that actually how you kept the shop open all this time?"

No way… no way… Tetsuo wouldn't do that… Right…?

"Then how did that thing end up inside my bike…?"

His mind goes back to the last winter, the time he'd worked for Tetsuo, a year ago. Before these past one-month Renji came back to work at WaraGyo again.

--------

-December 2023-

"Hey," Tetsuo had said with rare smug plastered on his face. "You said you wanted to make some kind of films, right?"

Renji's mouth still half-full of rice just nodded at him.

"Got buddy at a TV station—works cameras. Looking for interns, and you'd be a good fit. Pays better than here, too."

"Wait—seriously?!"

Tetsuo put the recruitment form on the table beside Renji's plate. "Already talked to him. You start next week if you want."

Renji's eyes locked on the paper like he was making sure it's not an illusion. "L-Lord Tetsuo... I am not worthy." He said in a poor dogeza form.

"Don't call me that, and get up. Haha…"

Then it started with bud of innocent hope, Renji felt alive in the first month. Moving with the crew, setting up shots, carrying gear— even he could almost see it, the bright path toward his dream.

But the light faded fast. The longer he stayed, the more that dream crumbled.

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"Too boring! Reshoot it. Add some crying, spice it up!"

"Cut the part where the kid defends the thief—it'll confuse viewers."

"Fake it if you have to. No one gives a shit."

Sometimes the producer, sometimes the director, sometimes some higher ups, but all of them always have one thing in common, their stern voice reverberating on the set. And bit by bit, the job became something else. Plastic smiles, fake tears, numbers on the statistics. He just nod at it.

Even when Renji numbed after several months working there, and started playing along with how the industry worked, his teammates often told he was dead weight. That he hadn't grown and he contributed nothing, and it feed into his sense of desperation to cling to something.

Then the night where he made his choice comes.

In the middle of dead night. Somewhere down the slope, the unpleasant sound like someone slamming a sack of meat onto concrete.

Their expression, frozen in agony, burned into Renji's memory.

"Tch!"

The past played inside his head like an old broken recording, in this corner of prison cell, Renji pulled his knees tighter to his chest. The light flickered above like it couldn't decide whether to live or die. The same way he couldn't.

"Maybe…"

Maybe I did deserve prison after all...

Then something moved behind his eyes. Another memory, way older than earlier. One he didn't want. One he tried so hard to keep buried. But it came like a rotting wound anyway.

"...I'm sorry... mom..."

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After swallowing that bitter word, the prison clock ticked past midnight, and the date rolled from 5th to 6th December. His eyes drifted toward it, as if remembering another thing that he supposed to do today—yesterday.

"...Oh yeah… I'm past the deadline now, huh..."

The manuscript to The Rookie Writers' Winter Cup. Despite all the unmotivated days, hopeful days, he worked on it. Poured everything into it these past few weeks.

"I knew my writing's shit. I wasn't even expecting to win..."

His voice was sarcastic but with a hint of pain—like he didn't care. But something deep inside screamed louder than anything he'd said.

Fuck, I wanted to win.

So much for a chance, huh…"

But...

"…I'm glad… now that I have a reason to… not submitting it…"

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When morning come, Renji blinked awake by the sound of steel against steel rang through the cell like an alarm, he could feel his head was heavy and almost nauseous. And his spine ached from sleeping half-curled on cold floor. And soon followed by a voice.

"Wake up."

That same woman police from yesterday. Tall stature, and cold eyes behind the glasses. She stood just outside the bars with her arms crossed.

Renji pushed himself up slowly, and shuffled toward her with dragging shoes.

"Follow me." She turned and walked without a word, the echo of her heels trailing like a metronome through the corridor.

"Where are we going?"

No answer. Until they stopped in front of a door that looked like the same interrogation room from before. But this one was different—cleaner, and it feel less intimidating. Renji's eyes straight to a small table, two chairs, and a steaming bowl of Katsudon in the middle.

The smell of sauce, fried pork, sweet onions hit him like a punch in the face.

"Have a seat and eat."

"…Huh?"

"If you're not hungry, you don't have to," she added, while walking to the opposite chair.

His sluggish brain still catching up. Interrogation room with a warm meal, just like a crime drama anime or series he watched. He still eyeing the bowl like it might be laced with something.

Classic move, huh…?

The moment he sits down, he hadn't realized how empty he felt until now. His stomach made a noise like a dying animal.

…But damn. I AM hungry…

The steam waving up in front of him like a beckoning hand. But Renji still hesitated, shifting his eyes between the Katsudon and the officer across him.

"You prefer something else?" she said with half-smile, catching his glance. "Sorry that it was just your average meal from the diner across the street."

Her tone had the same edge as before, but this time there was a hint of something like a tired kind of humor.

Renji picked up the chopsticks slowly as he leaned forward and began to eat.

"…Thanks."

They sat in silence for a bit. The room filled only with the sound of him eating, and the faint sound of morning activity seeping through the building wall.

"Hey… do you really live alone?"

"…Yeah," he said through his food. "I do."

"What happened to your parents?" Her voice stayed same cold, but something in it shifted. Not just curiosity, more like she was testing something.

He stared at the last bit of pork-slice in his bowl, he took his time to answer, as if picking his words carefully now.

"…My mom's gone. Since I was twelve."

"The cause?"

Renji's grip on the chopsticks tightened.

"Do I have to answer that? Isn't it already written on my record?"

She didn't even bat an eye. "Hmm, and your father?"

"…Don't know. He ran off when I was five."

"Ran off?"

"Yeah. No letters no nothing. Haven't seen him since. Again—shouldn't all of this be in your system already?"

"I did check… You were placed in the Shirosato children's facility after that."

"There you go." Renji clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"After all, record is just one thing. Mouth tells another." She continues under her breath.

Huh…?

He didn't respond and just stared at her cold smile for a second, then went back to the food, though it no longer tasted the same.

"You got no relatives?"

"No one."

With a loud clack, Renji set the chopsticks down, empty bowl in front of him. He straightened his back and sit straight on the chair. Recalling his mistake yesterday.

That's it!

"…Okay. No more. I'm not answering anything else!"

She raised an eyebrow not in surprise, but more like amused.

"I'm asking for a lawyer." Renji's tone a strange mix of shaky and stubborn. Like a child bluffing with half-remembered movie lines.

The woman blinked and stares at him with deadpan expression. Then— "Heh." She covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

"W-What? I—I know my rights!"

"Bit late for that, boy."

"I-I insist!"

A smile of mischief formed the corners of her mouth. "Cute—"

"—So," she continues, like it was just another conversation over a pancake. "You're asking for a lawyer now?"

"… Y-yeah, I want one."

"Good for you. And which version? The Hollywood one, or the local one?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The answer didn't come right away. Instead, she tapped her nails to the steel table, as if playing something. "You do realize... just asking for a lawyer doesn't make one appear out of thin air, right? Not unless you've got your own, or stuffed in your pocket."

"I thought... if I ask, they have to get me one?"

"They will… Eventually, but until then, you'll still be here."

"That's bullshit."

"Is it? Sure you'll get your lawyer after formal charges are filed. If you can't afford one, the court will assign someone—again, after indictment. Right now, you're in that fun little window where we can keep you here. About forty-eight hours later, then the prosecutor gets a turn. If they like what they see, you're on the bench for ten days. Maybe more."

WHAT? THAT LONG??

Renji's breath caught in realization. "So you're saying... I could be stuck here for, what, weeks…?"

"Wasn't that bad. Twenty-ish days is the usual. More if they want to mess around with you."

"You're messing with me now, you just made that up..."

"I can arrange the procedure. Just know what you're signing up for." She leaned her face, with her arm propping her cheek.

"...…" Renji just stares at the empty bowl in front of him. The sound of his gulping almost audible. Trapped by rules he didn't understand.

"Changing your mind?" She paused, then with a lazy grin— "Boy…"

"D-Don't take me for an idiot!"

"Relax, you won't be needing it anyway."

"Hah...?" Renji's defiance faltered. "What do you mean?"

"Someone cleared your case. I have no further questions… for now." She straightened with a little stretch and turned toward the door. "You're free to go."

"Wait. Who?"

"You can see for yourself later," she said over her shoulder, already halfway out.

His thoughts scrambled for answers, trying to connect loose line on the scattered dots.

Tetsuo...? Was it Tetsuo?

"Oh, and don't forget to pick up your belongings at the front desk," she added before leaving.

The door clicked shut behind her. And just like that, it was over.

Renji stood there with his fists clenched without meaning to, as if his body hadn't caught up to his brain. He stared at the empty space where she'd been, then around the blank room, expecting someone to make sense of what happened.

Fifteen minutes later, Renji found himself at the front desk, facing a stack of forms that looked like they were written in some foreign symbol. Yet, he signed them mindlessly anyway. Too many fine-print paragraphs, too little energy left to argue.

Tetsuo bailed me out...? Was that really his stash...? Did he take the fall for me or cover it up... or...?

The officer at the desk gave him a stiff nod and handed over his belongings in a clear plastic container: his sling bag, his phone, that old-yellow delivery jacket with the ripped lining, and his scooter chicken helmet along with his keys.

He reached in slowly, then unzipping his bag, Renji saw it—the envelope.

Crumpled and completely folded in the middle. The manuscript still inside. Looking at it in his hands, his shoulder sagged in defeat as he let out long sigh.

"Yeah... sure... forget it."

Fingers lingered over the ruined envelope for a second before he zipped the bag shut again.

It's already way past the submission time anyway.

Then his phone lit up as he picked it up. Battery clinging to life at 2%. The time: 11:03 am. Almost the exact minute he'd been cuffed and dragged here just the day before.

And there it was, blinking back at him.

'Missed call (38) – Lord Boss Tetsuo'

"Guess I've got a lot to talk to him about."

The station's lobby was nearly empty. No sign of the unpleasant detective from yesterday. Not even the two uniformed cops who'd grabbed him off the street. Just a sleepy desk sergeant sipping cheap coffee and clicking through his monitor.

Then His fingers brushed the door handle. And as he pushed it open. Cold, refreshing air greets him.

The sky was too bright, his eyes narrowed into slits, pupils still struggling to adjust. He blinked hard once, twice, then took a breath that didn't feel filtered through stale air. Like a caveman stepping out for the first time, unsure if the light was salvation or disaster.

"What a nice weather…" he muttered sarcastically, dragging one foot forward.

He was only halfway down the steps when a someone's voice cut through the quiet. Low, almost masculine in tone.

"Renji Tohara."

His feet halted as he turned his head toward the voice.

A woman stood just a few steps away on the roadside—tall and composed, almost similar to the female officer he met earlier, but her dark hair pulled back in a long, simple ponytail made her seem more practical and less playful. She wore a black suit, seamlines framing her narrow shoulders. Her strides were silent, eating the distance between them until she stopped right in front of him.

"...Do I know you?"

The woman didn't answer. Just moved her eyes sideways in a subtle but commanding gesture. "Come with me."

She turned on her heel before he could react, heading toward a black sedan parked at the curb. Its matte surface diffusing the reflection of cloudless sky.

Renji looked back at the police station, half expecting someone to shout at him to stop. But no one did.

What now...?

His mind grumbled, but his feet moved anyway.

The woman reached the driver's side and got inside without another word, leaving Renji standing outside like a stray kid waiting for permission to sit in a grown-up's car.

Then the rear tinted window rolled down halfway. From the gap, another voice emerged. Female again. But different from earlier.

"Get in." a voice that soft, mature, smooth, firm, all at once.

Wait... this voice...

Renji recalled hearing this exact same voice not too long ago.

He stood frozen, mind scrambling, until the voice repeated itself. This time louder, with the kind of weight that won't tolerate silence for answer.

"Get in, Renji Tohara."

As Renji opened the door. The interior smelled faintly of leather, flower and something expensive he couldn't name. He slipped in, holding his sling bag and helmet like a shield right in front of his chest.

The door closed with a solid thud. Then he finally turned his head to the person besides him, to look at her clearly.

Sitting next to him was a woman of undeniable poise, one leg crossed over the other with quiet grace. She wore a slate-gray tailored outfit. Her ash-brown hair brushed her shoulders, and up close, Renji could see the subtle blend of Western and Japanese features in her face.

Her Amber-light brown eyes stare at him dead straight.

"...You…" Renji could only let his words trailed off.