Teruo’s heart constricted. He didn’t like this—all the secrets and the spying. Maybe this was why Shinji wanted it to be casual. Maybe he wanted to keep Teruo at arm’s length from his personal affairs and only have some fun. Shinji did say as much. Perhaps the desire for a serious relationship had made Teruo crave more from what was just a casual fling.
Gritting his teeth, Teruo debated if he should return home when he realized where Shinji was going: Ishida’s apartment. And now that odd one-man conversation Shinji had on the fire escape made its way back in Teruo’s head. Was Shinji involved in the killings or was he trying to help the victims in some way?
With a heavy sigh, Teruo accelerated and followed Shinji to the apartment, ignoring the little voice telling him to turn back now.
Teruo rounded to the back of the building where the fire escape was. He had a feeling that was where Shinji intended to go and not the apartment itself, especially since the uniformed officers were still there by Teruo’s orders.
After parking the car further away, he exited and settled himself behind a few small trees surrounding the building opposite Ishida’s apartment and waited. He had a good view of the fire escape here. Just as he predicted, Shinji appeared from around the corner and climbed up the stairs of the fire escape.
He seemed wary of the area. He looked down and across the street from the railing. Teruo wasn’t sure after what because the street was deserted. Or maybe that’s exactly what Shinji wanted: an empty street. Teruo stood still, hoping Shinji wouldn’t see him. He was well-hidden, but Shinji was observant.
When Shinji pulled back from the railing, Teruo let out a sigh of relief and watched. Shinji’s gaze trained up toward the sky, then he pressed his palms together, like the bodyguard did. His clothes fluttered in a sudden violent wind, his black leather jacket flapping and his tousled hair slapping his forehead. White tendrils streamed out from his body, swirling around him like a white tornado. The foliage of the trees moved slightly, almost imperceptibly, but certainly nothing compared to the tornado whipping Shinji’s clothes around.
Teruo’s jaw dropped, not sure what he was seeing. What the hell was that thing?
Though initially focused on Shinji, the tornado expanded, slowing down the larger it became. The wind seemed more like a thick mist now, stretching over the buildings and beyond.
Cold sweat dripped down Teruo’s back and only now he realized the temperature had fallen. Puffs of breath came out of his mouth and his body shook.
Teruo slouched against the wall of the building, losing all feeling in his limbs and descending to the ground with a thud. He couldn’t tell for how long he sat there. A minute? One day? One week? An eternity? His sense of time and place had left him completely. His body was frozen, his mind numb and empty. All he saw was the mist twirling in front of him, shimmering, sometimes looking like a silhouette. His eyelids were so heavy. If he could just close his eyes and rest for a bit…
As sudden as it started, the sensation stopped.
Teruo took a sharp, painful breath, his dry throat stinging. He blinked, struggling to get his vision back, his eyes watering. It was warm again. The mist dispersed. He felt as if he died and came back. As if life had been sucked right out and then punched back in.
Palming the ground under him, and sighing in relief at the solid concrete, Teruo hoisted himself up carefully, holding onto the wall behind him. His heart pumped a fast rhythm into his ears. He inhaled and exhaled for a moment to calm himself.
Shifting his gaze back to the adjacent building, he searched for Shinji. He hadn’t left the fire escape yet and looked annoyed. He circled in place, one hand on his hip, the other running through his hair. Before Teruo even had time to comprehend what was going on, Shinji pressed his palms together again and the cold mist stretched fast.
Teruo fought not to lose his focus, to break through the numbness, to keep himself rooted and not drift away. But it pulled at his mind like it wanted him dead. For a split second he’d been convinced he really was dead. He’d never felt such fear in his life—not even when dealing with murderers.
And then it stopped. Air flew back into Teruo’s lungs, sharp as a knife.
Fuck…
Shinji sat down at the base of the staircase, his arms propped on his knees, face resting in his palms. Whatever he’d been attempting to do, it failed—Teruo could tell that much. But what was he trying to do? Or achieve? Was this the help he’d promised Ishida? Did the powers aid in finding the killer somehow?
Minutes ago Teruo would have considered such thoughts a complete lunacy. Now he was ready to believealmostanything.
Checking his phone, Teruo realized he’d been here twenty minutes. He wasn’t sure if that was too long or too short. His sense of time was still skewed.
Shinji left the same way he came and Teruo hurried to his car, turning the heat on inside.
Who was Miyazaki Shinji?Whatwas he?
Teruo turned all the info he had gathered until now in his numb mind. Shinji’s pose—the palms pressed together. Was that a prayer? Or some sort of ritual like the kind priests and priestesses did at shrines? The white wind or mist or whatever… Shinji had conjured it.
Spiritual medium? Was that what Shinji was? Doing a séance maybe?
Teruo bit his lip hard. If this was one of those tricks to con grieving people into paying for a way to contact their dead ones... but Shinji was doing it all alone. Usually these things were organized with candles and talismans and other crap. When Teruo had questioned him about the wind, he pretended he didn’t know. So, then what the hell was Shinji doing?
A taxi passed by further away and Teruo caught a glance of Shinji inside, leaning on the seat, head thrown back. Was he going to the other crime scenes to do the same? Teruo didn’t intend to follow. He didn’t want to experience that horrible wind again.
After his bones finally warmed up, he drove to the supermarket to keep himself busy and stop worrying about Shinji and his powers. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen, but walking through the store helped him regain his senses back.
A thought occurred to him as he filled up the shopping basket. It was possible the superintendent knew about it. Shinji said he was a family friend. Was this why the superintendent had been so adamant to keep Shinji at the TMPD? Or why he had all those brilliant recommendations? Perhaps Shinji was a secret asset and couldn’t speak about it. All the secrecy made much more sense than Shinji being involved in the murders, especially since Shinji had an alibi for Ozawa’s murder and most likely for Ishida’s too.
Teruo’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was Shinji.