Sorine's mother stood at the police station counter the same afternoon her daughter disappeared, her hands trembling as she clutched a recent school photo. The station lobby was crowded and humid, the air thick with the smell of wet raincoats and instant coffee from the officers' break room. Linoleum floors bore scuff marks from countless footsteps, wooden benches along the walls held tired citizens waiting for their turn, and fluorescent lights hummed overhead in a harsh, unrelenting white. Rain still pattered against the large front windows, streaking the glass and making the outside world feel distant and blurred.
The mother's voice cracked as she explained everything to the desk officer — Sorine had gone to school and hadn't come back home. She listed every detail she could remember: the girl's long straight hair, her school uniform, the quiet determination in her eyes even after Tsubaki's death. "She wouldn't just disappear," the mother insisted, tears welling. "Something happened to her. Please… you have to find my daughter."
The officer was about to file the standard missing person report when another call came in — the mother-and-child murder at the neighborhood park. The details were grim: both victims found beaten and stabbed near the kiddie slide, bodies left in plain view in a public space. The brutality, the location, the timing — it matched the pattern of the growing serial killings that had already claimed Tsubaki and others. Suddenly the missing high-school girl case was no longer just a routine report.
---
Detective Hikaru, a sharp-eyed man in his mid-thirties with neatly combed hair and a permanent crease of concern between his brows, took over personally. He had been leading the serial killing task force for weeks, and the new public murder had pushed the investigation into high gear. Hikaru opened the file Vey and Kairo had submitted earlier that day, scanning the details about Ren Fushiwara — the teacher seen with Tsubaki before her death, the strange warnings in class, the alley sighting, and the school where Sorine had vanished. His expression darkened.
"This isn't random," Hikaru muttered, flipping through the pages. "The teacher is connected. We need to bring him in immediately." Within hours, Ren Fushiwara's name and photo were circulated internally. By evening, an official warrant was issued. Ren was now wanted for questioning in connection with multiple murders and the disappearance of a minor.
The police held a brief press conference that night. The chief announced new measures: city-wide curfews starting at 8 p.m. for minors, increased security patrols around schools and parks, and a dedicated task force to "solve the mystery behind these horrific killings once and for all." Detective Hikaru appeared on camera, his voice steady but urgent. "These are not isolated incidents. We will find the person responsible and protect our community."
---
The next morning, Vey sat in their living room, the television casting a flickering glow across the damp walls. The rain had eased slightly but still fell in a steady drizzle outside. The morning news played the headline in bold letters: "Local Teacher Ren Fushiwara Now Wanted in Serial Killing Investigation." A photo of Ren — calm face, neat hair — filled the screen alongside footage of police tape at the park where the mother and child had been found.
Vey felt a grim satisfaction settle in their chest. "Finally," they whispered, clenching their fists. The police were taking it seriously. The curfews and extra patrols meant the city was finally acknowledging the danger. Vey grabbed their phone and texted Kairo: "Ren is wanted on the news. We need to go to school and find out whatever we can about him before the police get there. Meet me at the gate?"
Kairo's reply came after a long pause. "I can't go to school today. Tsubaki's death and Sorine's disappearance… it feels like a stab to the heart every time I think about walking those halls. I'm sorry."
Vey typed back quickly, thumbs moving with determination. "That's exactly why we have to do something about it. Hiding won't bring them back or keep the rest of us safe. We need to find answers. Please, Kairo. I can't do this alone."
---
On the other side of town, Mimo sat in her quiet living room, the morning news playing on the television. She watched the same report Vey had seen — Ren's face on screen, the announcement of curfews, the promise to solve the killings. Her expression remained soft and neutral as she finished her breakfast. She stood, already dressed in her school uniform, and grabbed her backpack from the chair. She headed toward the door, but paused halfway, turned back, and picked up an umbrella from the stand even though it wasn't raining heavily yet. She slipped on a pair of thin black gloves, carefully adjusting them over her palms. The skin beneath was burnt — both hands marked with raw, reddened patches from the pipe she had used the evening before.
Mimo opened the front door and stepped outside.
"Mimo?"
Vey's voice called out from down the street, sharp with surprise. Vey had decided to walk past Mimo's house on the way to school, hoping to catch her.
A brief look of frustration flashed across Mimo's face — tight lips, narrowed eyes — the mask slipping for less than a second. Then she turned, and the expression melted into a cheerful, gentle smile.
"Vey! Long time no see."