Nezu gave Tabahara a moment to collect himself, straightening himself in his seat. Even though getting answers was his utmost priority, it would be unwise to bombard him with continuous questions. He had to consider the extent of his head injuries and the effect it would have on his ability to respond. In other words, he shouldn’t rush this opportunity.
But Tabahara did not speak.
Nezu maintained a neutral expression. “Apparently, he was seen with your former bosses,” he added after some time. “Can you tell me anything about that?”
His question was met with more silence. Although it was different this time, as Tabahara’s gaze shifted to a different area on the table, avoiding the image entirely.
Well, that’s interesting.
Nezu thought back to the contents in the file, as well as the police reports he had read previously. As far as he could tell, the police had not brought up the man in the photo. They had no reason to, considering he had nothing to do with the fires. In fact, Nezu was sure they didn’t even know this man existed.
But Tabahara did.
Nezu cocked his head to be in the periphery of his vision. “I’m waiting for an answer, Tabahara.”
The man wet his cracked lips. His orange eyes flickered between the different sheets of paper in front of him, before he shrunk into himself.
“N-no comment.” His voice was hoarse.
Nezu’s features drew in curiosity. His gaze sharpened as he observed Tabahara. In his experience, while most Villains in this situation would be nervous, almost all of them would act towards their best interest. If this were the case, then Tabahara’s deflection would follow the lines of self-preservation, especially as he had already been charged.
So, why would invoking the right to remain silent help him?
“Tabahara,” Nezu said softly, “I'm sure you are aware that the accusations against you are quite serious. But I’m not here for that. I’m just trying to find this man and I think you may be the last person who saw him. Are you sure you can’t tell me anything?”
It was half of the truth. As far as Nezu could tell, there was no other association between Tabahara’s offence and the disappearance of the man in the photo. But he also couldn’t rule out the possibility of a correlation.
Tabahara stared at the photo for a moment or two, his expression unreadable under the layers of gauze and cloth. “W-why are you trying to find him?” he finally said.
Nezu made a quick calculation on how much to tell him. It made sense he would be curious. And there was no immediate harm in answering him, especially if it could keep him talking. Satisfied with his conclusion, he answered swiftly.
“I think he’s in trouble.”
The dark hairs of Tabahara’s eyebrows peeped underneath his bandages as he lowered his brow and frowned. He glanced up, but did not meet Nezu’s eyes, as his gaze fell on the buttons of Nezu’s black coat. “What do you mean by that?”
Nezu kept his composure intact. He had seen this ploy before. It was obvious he was trying to ascertain a specific kind of information, usually the kind that tended to be something incriminating. But Tabahara had already been charged. So, what else was there?
Nezu gestured to the mugshots, but kept his eyes trained on Tabahara’s face, ready to analyse any micromovements he would make. “Well, I’m sure you were already aware of your former bosses being Villains,” he said, while Tabahara remained unaffected by his declaration.
He then grabbed a document he had memorised from the file and pretended to read from it. “According to police records, they were money launderers—” Tabahara remained the same, allowing Nezu to continue “—and had known connections to human trafficking operations.”
There.
The corners of Tabahara’s mouth tightened, pulling downward into a strained line. Nezu didn’t say anymore, letting the silence do the work for him. It was a simple trick he had learnt; people hated a conversation going quiet and were often enticed to continue it. So, Nezu placed his paws in front of him, and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long though. Tabahara swallowed thickly, “I—I wasn’t involved with anything like that.” His voice quivered under the weight of the implication. “I was just their errand boy.”
Nezu thought back to the background check he conducted on Tabahara when he learnt his arson attack had taken the lives of the two people who were crucial to his investigation. But with both police records, and his own work, there was a lack of evidence for Tabahara being associated with trafficking. But a lack of evidence did not necessarily mean there was no evidence. It could also mean he hadn’t found it yet.
But he set the thought aside for now, despite a part of him wanting to press Tabahara further. He had not examined all the current information about this potential association in detail, and to question it without preparation would be ill-advised. He also couldn’t risk diverting the conversation. No, he would come back to this at a later date.
“That’s alright,” feigned Nezu. “I wasn’t trying to accuse you. I just want to know if you’ve seen this man with your former bosses.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Distress coated Tabahara’s voice. His fingers twitched, grasping for something to fidget with but unable to under the constraints of his slings.
Nezu paused. Despite assuring him, Tabahara was still worried. If this wasn’t about incriminating himself, then what could it be about?
Oh. He doesn’t know.
Nezu lowered his gaze, unable to hide the bitter taste on his tongue as his expression shifted to a grim one. “He’s a trafficking victim.”
Wide orange eyes, filled with horror, met beady black ones.
“W-what?” Tabahara’s voice trembled under revelation. “W-what do you mean?”
A flicker of unease crept through Nezu’s stomach, before he gestured to the brown-haired man’s photo. “He was a missing person from an old case I was looking into and was last seen with your old bosses,” he explained. “Considering what is now known about Kibayama Ginjirou and Kibayama Kinji, it seems like they may have been involved with his initial disappearance.”
Tabahara’s mouth was agape. “I—I didn’t know.”
He returned his attention back to the photo, but this time with a tender look in his eyes. Nezu wasn’t sure what to make with that expression, so he remained silent until Tabahara was ready to speak up.
“He was so nice to me,” he finally said, his voice now missing the coarseness from earlier and replaced with a gentleness that was not expected. “He helped clean my face up when those monsters were done with me. I thought you were trying to lock him up as well. I had no idea he was another one of their victims.”
Nezu leaned in close. He was finally getting somewhere. “Do you know where he went?”
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Tabahara remained trained on the image, motionless as he gathered his thoughts, before gently shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know,” he said, almost in tears. “I only met him that one time.”
“Are you sure?” Nezu couldn’t hide the hint of desperation in his voice. “Any clue, no matter how small, would be helpful.”
Tabahara stared at all the photos on the table, his eyes flickering with concentration as he thought things over. But a defeated look settled on his face as he met Nezu’s gaze once again. “I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything.”
Nezu stifled a sigh as best as he could. But the disappointment was too much. “That’s alright,” he finally forced himself to say. “Thank you for talking with me. Um…” He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a small metallic case, and opened it before handing Tabahara a card with his number. “If you can think of anything, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”
Tabahara nodded, and it wasn’t long until the plain-looking officer entered the room to escort him away, leaving Nezu all alone. He leaned on the table once again, rubbing his paws across his face as if he could wipe away the dejection that threatened to consume him.
Another dead end. Another reminder of how far he was from the truth. Maybe luck did exist. And his was just rotten.
But Nezu couldn’t give up. If he couldn’t go anywhere with this, he would look elsewhere for a lead. And there was something recently that had been lingering at the edge of his thoughts. It wasn’t much—perhaps calling it conjecture would be kind—but he couldn’t deny the scarlet-red thread woven into his path by mere coincidence.
Call it luck. Call it fate. It didn’t matter. There was still something he could do.
He glanced at the clock on the wall, quickly assessing the difference in time zones before grabbing his phone to call All Might.
The next few days were a whirlwind—filling out forms, travelling back and forth, and emptying their bank accounts to pay the security deposit, the key money and the estate agent fees. But eventually, the girls ticked every box and made all the necessary arrangements to move to their new residence in Musutafu.
With the hum of anticipation lingering in the air, they gathered their belongings, checked out of the bed-and-breakfast, and stepped into the taxi Zero had hired to escort them to their new home. Zero sat in the front, ready to guide the driver to the new address, while Scarlett found herself squashed between Juno and Leya in the back.
But Scarlett didn’t mind. She was too busy trying to calm the restless flutter in her chest. She wasn’t sure if she was excited, or worried. All she knew about the house was that it was a temporary home. A building that was relatively old compared to others, but happened to be furnished; a rare find with monthly rental homes in Japan, but a necessary one considering they didn’t know how long they would be in the country.
However, she was the only one that hadn’t seen the house yet.
And it wasn’t because she didn’t want to. In fact, she often volunteered herself to go with her sisters when they went down to complete last-minute preparations—the latest effort being with helping Zero sort out the utilities and some paperwork. But like the others, she lovingly declined, telling Scarlett she had to concentrate on her entrance exams if she wanted to study in Japan. It was mildly frustrating, but Scarlett couldn’t argue that she, or any of her sisters, were wrong.
So, when she wasn’t busy trying to find schools, or understand how the education system worked in this country, she would find the time to go shopping with Juno and Leya. It was mainly focused on scoring deals on household essentials and a couple of appliances that did not come with the property. And while it wasn’t much work in Scarlett’s eyes—considering the other two had found the deals and made the arrangements to collect the items—it was the only way she could help with the move.
And she was very grateful to be involved. It wasn’t every day that she would have a chance to make up for her past shortcomings and help them build a home, even if their accommodation was short-term.
Maybe, there’ll be more stuff I could help with when we arrive?
She gazed through the car window, mulling over how else she could be helpful, while concrete buildings and glass towers grazed by. It wasn’t long until the car drove under an overpass and merged with the expressway that her thoughts shifted to the hope of returning one day, as they left the Tokyo cityscape behind them.
Despite directing most of their efforts to the move, there were moments where they could sightsee and enjoy what the city could offer. Petting Hachiko in Shibuya with Zero, window shopping the latest fashion trends in Harajuku with Leya, and marvelling at the view from the top of Tokyo Skytree with Juno—it was incredible.
And while she loved spending time with everyone, their adventure in Tokyo ended before she could do what she had wanted—explore the capital of niche interests, Akihabara. Apparently, it was the place to go for some exclusive Godzillo collectables, and Scarlett couldn’t help but be tempted to visit the area. But time was not on their side.
Maybe there would be some goodies in Musutafu?
She doubted it, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t look. In fact, she wasn’t sure what Musutafu could offer. There didn’t seem to be anything remarkable about the smaller city, apart from one of the high schools.
A hollow feeling settled in Scarlett’s stomach. It didn’t connect immediately that U.A. would be in the area they were moving to. But once she learnt about it, she always avoided thinking about it. It was the only way she could keep herself calm. But soon they would arrive, and there was no way for her to escape what was coming.
Scarlett could picture it: the city teeming with would-be Heroes, their determination unrelenting, and their ambition infecting every street corner. The thought made her skin crawl. There was no way for her to simply exist in a place like that; it would demand too much, and expect too much out of her. Every glance and every conversation would carry the same unspoken question, ‘what are you doing to make the world a better place?’
It would be an inquiry that would follow her in every street and every avenue; something she couldn’t avoid. How was she supposed to navigate herself in a city that thrived on dreams she didn’t want to chase?
A gentle hand pressed on Scarlett’s shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts. Scarlett turned to meet Juno’s worried gaze.
“Are you alright?” she signed. “You look a little pale.”
It was all Scarlett needed to realise what had happened. She mustered a smile. “Yeah,” Scarlett signed back, not wanting to alert the others in the car. “I just feel a little car-sick.”
The worry lines on Juno’s face deepened. “Wanna stop the car and take a walk? Some fresh air might be good.”
“No, no, that’s alright,” replied Scarlett. “I think I wanna sleep it off.”
Juno’s concerned expression remained, but she dropped the matter. “Okay, but let us know if it gets too bad.”
Scarlett nodded, before closing her eyes and resting her head on Juno’s shoulder. She took a moment to observe her own physical state. Her heart rate was slightly elevated, and her breathing was a little shaky. She hadn’t realised how worked up she had gotten. She almost reprimanded herself, before stopping as Dr. Asa’s words echoed in her mind from her time back in St Coleman’s.
So, when your thoughts are getting a little too much, I want you to think of someone dear to you saying the same thing.
Someone dear? Like my sisters?
Sure, let’s go with that. If your sisters said the exact same thing you were thinking, what would you say to them?
Scarlett paused, noting the rumbling of the car engine as she returned to the present. If her sisters had the same thoughts about Musutafu and U.A., what would she say?
A school doesn’t have that much control over a city, even if it’s a famous one.
And like a room filled with dense smoke, her simple answer opened all the doors and windows, allowing the suffocating thoughts to dissipate in the air. Scarlett relaxed a little.
She was right. There was no way an environment like that would spread and encompass an entire city. It would probably only be local to U.A., and other Hero Schools alike, which was all the more reason for her to avoid them. But she couldn’t dare to say it out loud, not without burdening everyone.
And then, there was that school visit Juno arranged…
Scarlett tried to rack her brain to formulate a plan, or an excuse, to avoid going but was unable to come up with anything. Maybe she could think of something later. It wasn’t like her trip to U.A. was set in stone. She still had some time to think things through. And she should use it wisely.
She wasn’t sure when, or how, but Scarlett drifted off to sleep. It was only when Leya exclaimed that they had arrived, did she stir awake. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she glanced at the neighbourhood they were currently driving through.
The area was very different compared to Tokyo—gone were the high-rise apartments and crowded streets. Instead, everything was softer and quieter under the crisp, winter sky.
The buildings were smaller and more spread out. Houses lined the narrow and cracked roads, while a couple of humble storefronts were scattered between. One that caught Scarlett’s eye was a modest flower shop, as its windows were filled with bright bouquets. The pavements were decorated with parked cars and potted plants; some still clinging onto their leaves in defiance of the December cold. A group of people bundled in coats walked by, with a cheerful conversation playing between their lips.
Despite the area being worn with age, there was a charm to it, as if the years added character to the place, and everyone here lived in their own rhythm, rather than compete with each other like they would in the bustling big city. Even if there was nothing to do here like in Tokyo, it was peaceful and Scarlett couldn’t help but be endeared.
The taxi took a turn, before slowing down as the sat nav pinged, announcing the journey had ended. Zero perked up and spun around to face the others.
“This is it,” she said. “We’re here.”