Work Text
Kyoko’s eyes widened. She knew she ought to skip this episode. That it would be opening old wound but she didn’t. She was glad she didn’t because by the end of it, she knew this was different. This was something else. She didn’t even think to discuss it with the others. They had rules and protocols but Kyoko was willing to forgo all of those and get straight to the point. “You might want to listen to this.” she told Spectre, sliding forward her own device for him to borrow. The screen lit up in white and blue, a logo and a title, a run time and a volume bar. “I don’t listen to true crime podcasts.” Spectre said. “You know why.” “Well, I think you should listen to this one.” Kyoko told him. Her voice was stern. Not imposing, just serious. Spectre stared at her. “Take it to your room and listen to it. Please. And don’t tell Ryoken-sama.” Kyoko insisted. Spectre’s brows creased, “Why?” Her add-on worried Spectre very much. It did show. However, it showed more as a furor than an anxiety, however. He felt his heart strings played with, taut and tightly wound. They had rules. They had protocols. He was the exception but not in speciality, for reasons far worse than the other five. He had been the only child of the Incident who didn’t need to have interference run on his disappearance. The only one whose misinformation campaign was spearheaded by the ones who were his guardians rather than his captors. It had come as a shock to all of them. He wasn’t even front page news. Just a little paragraph buried deep, an obituary and a press conference. Heading: Little Boy Missing: Declared Dead. Subtitle: Orphanage Takes Full Responsibility. Then a couple paragraphs ensued. Some details about just who this little boy was and what responsibility the orphanage had to him. How all steps were taken properly. Even if the outcome was grim, grisly, and not at all true or what had happened. Of course, it didn’t reflect well on an orphanage for it lose any of its charges or wards but if the police were satisfied that there was no suspicion of foul play and that it was in character for the little boy to simply run off and get into mischief… Well, there was nothing they could do. Case closed. Closed after two weeks of searching for him, even. Maybe one day his remains would turn up in a landslide or uncovered by some unfortunately observant hikers. Or maybe he would turn up alive, but not necessarily well, after six months. Yes, well, that would be quite the mistake to make. To declare the child in question dead when there had been foul play. That he had been abducted, held captive, tortured, starved, electrocuted, and he had lived his short little life to the fullest in those six months. Good thing he was very obedient and disappeared again after that. After three short days of being in and out of hospitals, shut down about his experience and talked over by those who knew better than him about his own lived experience. All those sorts of things. So, he got up and he simply left. Never to be found again. Presumed dead. For real this time. “It features an interview from the woman who found you as an infant.” Kyoko said. “Akabane-san?” Spectre exclaimed. “Yes, the one and only. I thought she was a huckster at first but, no. She told the same story about how you would terrorise the girls in the orphanage as you by ripping the heads off their dolls. A detail which has never arisen before, I believe.” Spectre turned quiet similar to how Kyoko’s eyes turned dark. She crossed one arm across her chest, to hold onto her upper arm, “I think Ryoken-sama wouldn’t want you to listen to this. It may open a Pandora’s box for you but I want you to be the judge of that. He’s decided more than enough about your fate, I think. Don’t you agree? Well, it might hurt, it might help. I don’t know for sure but I think you might want to listen to what your previous guardian might have to say about you, eleven years after the fact.” Her speech was gentle. She was right, too, about Ryoken. He had decided more than enough for him, particularly in regards to the Ignis. It was a protective measure. He didn’t want to see Spectre get hurt, so he lied about all the Ignis being defective, being progenitors of destruction for humankind, even though it was mostly just one and that one was not his. His Earth… The Earth Ignis, he was never meant to be destiny bound to destruction. He just wanted a quiet, peaceful existence away from humanity but, according to the simulations, if his path were to ever have crossed with Spectre’s, it would have been beautiful. For them both. A platonic partnership which filled in gaps for them both. His fate and their possible partnership, they were painful what-if’s now. For better or for worse. In the end, Spectre agreed and adhered to what Ryoken had decided for him: it had been better for him not to know. But this? This was from before his time. Though, as leader, he would not want his second-in-command getting involved with the media about his life and the misinformation campaign around it, it wasn’t his turn to decide what Spectre wanted. It was his. Spectre swallowed, “Fine. I will listen to what Akabane-san has to say but I swear to God if I have to listen to any make fun of me or coddle me-” “She doesn’t. Neither does the host. Do you really think I would listen to such slock on my own time?” Kyoko asked. “I suppose not.” Spectre said but it was already strange that a criminal would listen to true crime podcasts to begin with. But then again. He was the only one whose appearances in true crime podcasts, articles, or news had to be monitored for. After all, the other five children were alive and well. They had never been kidnapped. The Hanoi Project had never taken place. Their disappearances were just… cases of chronic runawayism and the like. He was the only one who was dead. Where Spectre had been the lone child they never had to spread misinformation about to conceal his disappearance, he was now the lone child who was talked about by strangers. Who had an unusual case record which collected dust in police archives or on the shelves of journalist’s past writings. He took Kyoko’s device and slipped it into his pocket. From the kitchen, they both went separate ways. Spectre went to his bedroom, Kyoko continued on to the gym inside the cruise liner. Spectre locked himself in his room and found his own pair of earphones. It took him a couple minutes to find them since he so rarely used them. He wasn’t a music listener and his DuelTube history was sparse, mostly videos on gardening tips and tricks. Still, he found the cords eventually. He connected them and he figured he may as well get comfortable. This was going to be rough, more likely than not. He laid down in his bed, hid under the covers with the podcast. For a moment, he was reminded of being a child - both in the orphanage and in the Kogami mansion - disobeyed curfew by reading a book like this. Spectre took a breath and he savoured how his doona was heavy on his back, how his pillow was soft underneath his chin, then exhaled. Episode 51. Babe in the Woods. Spectre scoffed. What a trite title. He was certain that there were many cases, both national and abroad, in which that title would be applicable. No wonder Kyoko didn’t immediately skip it, it didn’t seem egregiously referencing exactly him. Nonetheless, he hit play. A couple notes of the theme song music began to play. Spectre wasn’t familiar with this app that Kyoko used but scrolling, he discovered the case notes. It was blah, blah, blah to him. A sponsor link. A synopsis that likely thought itself clever: This is the story of a little lost boy who remained forever lost. Then some content warnings: child death, child neglect, etcetera. It utterly bored Spectre already. There was forty-five whole minutes of this to look forward to, also, he noticed that the time played bar barely progressed in the thirty seconds it took to play the theme tune. Boredom, however, was better than being irate, Spectre supposed but he was on edge. Especially now that the theme had finished playing and now the host was introducing not only herself but her guest, too. “Thank you for tuning in, whether it is for first time or the fiftieth time, thank you for spending some time with me, Igarashi Eiko, my guest, Akabane Karen, and the story of Morishita Shinobu: the little lost boy who remained forever lost.” Spectre snorted. The host clearly thought she was very clever for that synopsis, using it twice in her own script. Speaking of, he wondered if there was a written version to follow along with… but the idea of getting spoilers on his own life and death, well, that made even Spectre’s skin crawl. So, it was better, he decided, to simply listen on. “Now that my show has gone beyond the fiftieth episode milestone, to celebrate, I have selected three guests whose stories I want to share with you all. All these guests have reached out to me, not vice versa, and their stories include solved cases, unsolved cases, and this case. Akabane-san, would you like to elaborate…?” “Yes, of course, Igarashi-san.” Akabane replied. Spectre held his breath. She sounded exactly how he remembered but different at the same time. She had lost some of that joyous, cheerful charm that she used to have. It made sense, he supposed. Time and the years had marched on and that included her. She was what… Thirty-six if he recalled correctly? She wasn’t that much older than Kyoko, Spectre was quite certain. “This case is technically solved but there are still unresolved elements. Some suspect more than there is. I do not, personally, but I understand why people might think there is more to it than that.” Akabane said. “Yes, this is a strange case, isn’t it?” Igarashi agreed. “A story of a boy who went missing twice.” “There are a lot of rightful criticism of how we handled this incident and I would like to shed what light I can with it and share my story. I’m thirty-six and no longer a social worker. I burned out very quickly in part due to this incident. I work as a waitress now. Once I’m ready, I would like to go into teaching next but… I don’t know if my heart can take it, if I fail another young child like I did Morishita Shinobu-kun.” “Do you want to tell me a bit about Morishita Shinobu-kun? And then I can go over the agreed upon timeline of events, if you like.” Igarashi suggested. “I can do that.” Akabane replied. She took a breath and the microphone captured the tingle of her nervousness, translating it into static that the editing didn’t fully take out. “Shinobu-kun was an unusual boy. A lot of the children who came to the orphanage, their circumstances are all over the place but usually, there is a lot of coming and going. Children whose parents are going through divorce or other, high stakes court proceedings, they stay with until those matters are resolved. Children who are due to be adopted, children whose parents have surrendered them either due to their own judgement or at the pressure of social workers. But he… He wasn’t like that. We actually found him, under a tree. He had been abandoned in the woods and it was a miracle that we found him alive at all. I still can’t believe someone would do that to a baby.” “A baby?” gasped Igarashi. “A baby. He had been there for several days and was estimated to be a few months old, so not a newborn. He should have been starving, emaciated, any number of things but he was quite healthy when we found him. We tried to look for his parents but no leads ever arose. It was quite a disheartening thing. The orphanage was right there but rather than leave him on our doorstep, he was placed under a tree.” “Is that how got his name?” Igarashi asked. “Yes, I found him and ergo, I got the honour of naming him since it was apparent, we were going to have him for quite some time. I called him Morishita Shinobu. Under a forest and enduring. I thought that was a good match for him, if a child could endure that abandonment, I was hopeful he would have a bright future ahead of him but…” “But what?” Igarashi prompted Akabane. Akabane was quiet for a moment and Spectre was, too. He had never heard of having a bright future ahead of him. He had already known, however, that the name that he had long since cast off was one that Akabane had given him. “He was a strange boy.” Akabane lamented. “Too smart for his own good. See, we have rules at the orphanage. We are meant to be workers, teachers, not parents. We need to keep the children at arm’s length but Shinobu-kun, he craved parental love and when he realised he wasn’t going to get it from me, or any other member of the staff, he retreated. He realised that very early on and became a quiet, secluded child. Both a bully and a victim. The other children picked on him for being quiet but when he did open up, he would say nasty things to other children.” “Wow…” Igarashi gasped. “Mm, it is cruel to speak ill of the dead but he got write up after write up for getting into fights with the boys or terrorising the girls by tearing the heads off their dolls.” Igarashi laughed and Akabane laughed with her. Spectre’s lips twigged. There’s the moment of realness and veracity that Kyoko had referred to earlier. “He did have good qualities, however. He loved to read, his favourite book was called Blue Angel. He was even the first child in his age group to transition from reading out loud to reading inside his head. He did that at age four whereas others mightn’t get to that stage until five or six, even as late as seven or eight. It's not a natural skill, it has to be taught, you know.” “I did not. I’m so used to reading inside my head, I had totally forgotten that it is, indeed, something that needs to be practised. Ah, you can tell I’m a childless woman.” Igarashi laughed. “But wow, he did sound like a smart boy. Is that a factor in why you believe he wouldn’t go somewhere with a stranger or…?” “I think it's best if you lay out the details of the case now, Igarashi-san.” Akabane replied. “Ah, yes, this is a good segue point indeed now that we know a little bit about the missing child in question.” Igarashi agreed. Spectre prepared himself for what was the official timeline of events. He was curious about how much of it would align with his own recollections of it as well as the actual timeline of events. He tried not to ponder the sadness of Akabane’s bittersweet voice, also. He had always been her pet project. She had tried and tried again to get him to behave whilst still not allowing herself to get too close to him emotionally. The social workers and matrons had to provide stability and continuity but they couldn’t do that the same way a parent he could. The only way he ended up knowing how to was to sit on the edge of the playground by himself. That was better than him getting into fights, after all. “Eleven years ago on the edge of Den City, Japan. It is early autumn. A little boy of six years goes missing but no one realises immediately. This little boy has a tendency to disappear. He had a favourite place that he liked to go to, a secret base of sorts, like many children have. His is the biggest tree in the forest, hiding underneath its roots or climbing up its branches. He has a lot of fun playing at this one specific tree and goes to this place as often as he can. “Because of this, none of his caretakers at the orphanage he belongs to is alarmed when he doesn’t come home straight away. He’s out there for hours at a time, until after sundown but usually, he is back in time for dinner. Today, however, he was not. He also wasn’t back for breakfast or lunch the following day. We now have about twenty-four hours ellipsed and as most true crime junkies can tell you, the first three hours of a missing children’s case is urgent, then the first forty-eight hours. It is not until seventy-two hours later that the orphanage begins to realise something is amiss. Akabane-san, what are you and your coworkers thinking at this time, may I ask?” “I am bound to certain NDA’s, I would like to point out. But we are not panicking. We think he is hurt, yes, but we think we know where he is. He’s a bit like a cat, I think. He comes and goes, we honestly thought he was back already and no one had noticed because he was in the orphanage somewhere or at his favourite play place: the tree he was found under.” Akabane said. “I see.” Igarashi said. “We have been accused of child neglect because of our disgraceful wait. We don’t involve the police until we, ourselves, had looked for him both in the orphanage and in the part of the forest that he knew he frequented the most.” Akabane said. “It isn’t until we can’t find him that we realise, we need more manpower. Yes, it is like him to not listen to us or hide but this, we finally began to realise, was different.” Spectre hummed. He’d never actually been told how long they waited for them to look for him. He wondered who eventually got the alarm to raise. He wished Akabane had mentioned that. Maybe it was her, maybe it was another child from the orphanage. Who knows. “Police arrive quite swiftly. They scour the surrounds, the orphanage, they ask around for witnesses but the head matron at the orphanage is taken for questioning. More often than not, children are harmed by those closest to them so she is interviewed but nothing comes of it. No abuse allegations arise, the story is consistent amongst both staff and the children: this boy is a chronic runaway. So police concur with the conclusion that the orphanage had come to this instance: Morishita Shinobu had run away.” “It's very scary to remember. I really admired the head of the orphanage. I was terrified that perhaps something had happened to Shinobu-kun and…” Akabane murmured. “And there had been. Police continued to develop and investigate a theory that Shinobu had run away and gotten into trouble. What that trouble looked like was undetermined but as no suspicious persons had come forward, no witnesses had come forward saying there had been any unusual happenstance, and so forth. So the process of elimination continued on, Occam’s Razor prevailed. “They decided this child must have gotten into a misadventure. He had broken his arm or his leg, he had hit his head, he was dehydrated or starving. Any number of these things could be applied to him and he had found some gully or ditch to hide in and two weeks later, it was decided that this hypothetical was reality. They had expended what manpower they could, the tip line dried up, and the orphanage was investigated for other reasons. They decided that Morishita Shinobu had perished due to the elements, he was dead by misadventure, body not found. A death certificate was issued.” “Those two weeks. They were agonising. We wanted to find him, if only to give him a proper burial and ceremony.” Akabane said. “We were so certain that he was dead. He should have been, already, because he had survived the harsh conditions of the wilderness once as an infant, perhaps his luck ran out. We were investigated for our care of other children but… They said some very awful things. They were glad the bully was gone. They said lovely things about our care and management of the place and were certain it was finally going to get better now that the quote-unquote ‘freak’ was gone.” “But he wasn’t.” Igarashi quietly said. “He wasn’t.” Akabane replied. Their sadness was palpable but Spectre was reeling with laughter. Freak! Freak, he was a freak to the other children, they were glad he was gone! He had always thought as such. And yet here these adults were, miserating over how cruel children could be and the fact that his presumed death had mattered so little to them. But he wasn’t. He still wasn’t. He was alive and well. “He was found in a hospital, six months later. This is part of the NDA. I will talk around it as politely and distantly as I can but Morishita Shinobu-kun, he was still alive and he had been taken to a hospital because of, um, erm… A team of good samaritans. He was still sound of mind so when they asked who he was, where he was from, he replied obediently and we were contacted. Of course, there were problems. He was legally dead but some even thought maybe he was lying…? He was trying to take the dead boy’s identity for some reason but I don’t know. Can a six year old do that?” “It happened in two different occasions in America, a child under the age of ten has tried to assume the identity of dead or missing children.” Igarashi very helpfully piped up. “Oh, okay, then it isn’t out of the realm of possibility then. I work with children but couldn’t tell you if they would be so scheming, conniving or otherwise.” Akabane murmured. “Used to work with children, I mean.” “So Morishita Shinobu-kun, he is found in a hospital, his identity is confirmed as being who he says he is-" "Yes, I confirmed it myself. I would no him anywhere." Akabane confidently interrupted Igatashi. "I see, I see, so after this, he is taken home to you guys and he goes missing again. Three days later after being returned to your care.” Igarashi continued, her feathers hardly ruffled by the interruption. “Yes.” Akabane confirmed. Three days…? Spectre felt it was simultaneously longer and shorter than that. He loved the Incident but he hated the aftermath. He had hit and kicked and punched and even bit the “good samaritan” who had “rescued” him from captivity. He wanted so badly to stay. He didn’t want to go back and he sure as hell did not want to go to a hospital. It was at the hospital where the worst of the abuse he felt he endured occurred. He was talked over, spoken about like he wasn’t even in the room, and invasively touched to make sure he was “okay”. That he was all in one piece, if they were convinced his mind wasn’t. He hated how the doctors and nurses refused to believe him when he said he had enjoyed it, that he had had fun. They were disguised with him and so was Akabane. She was the one the orphanage had sent to collect him. He had been excited to see her at first. She had always tried, after all. He remembered that and she had admitted it in this audio recording. Spectre had been wildly hopeful that finally, they would connect. That she would get it. She didn’t. She had even hit him - impulsively - when he got too excited, too scary about this awful, terrifying thing that he had been put through and had put the orphanage through by disappearing. That was the only time she had ever struck a child and that was the only time he had ever been struck by an adult. That’s how Spectre knew it was serious that he shut up and run away. He wasn’t going to get anywhere fast with what he wanted if he stayed. He wanted his Mother. Of course, unsurprisingly, Akabane was not going to confess to hitting a child in her care. They moved on and Spectre moved on with them. He kept listening, his attention was rapt, he couldn’t lie. “So the orphanage takes Morishita Shinobu-kun back to the orphanage where he becomes even more isolated than before. The children who had been glad to hear he was gone, were not thrilled he was back. His six months are unknown.” “Even to us.” Akabane added. “And then he disappears again. For good this time.” “Correct.” Akabane confirmed. “For those three days at the orphanage, what were they like?” Igarashi asked. “Difficult. He was even more unsettled than before, the children were unwelcoming. Getting him to meal times was a struggle, he ate in his bed more often than not. Then he disappears.” Akabane said. “How did that happen? Were you guys not watching him? Or did he escape?” Igarashi asked. “We were lax. I will admit. He was shutting down so we thought it was fine to give him some space. Presumably… Presumably-” Akabane’s voice cracked and Spectre was certain he knew what she was thinking right now. “He had been through a lot and needed to process. Once again, we thought he would be back straight away. Where else did he have to go? It's a bit like the boy who cried wolf. When we contacted the police that he was gone, they mockingly asked us if we had waited seventy-two hours again before ringing.” “...Did you?” Igarashi asked. “No. I think it was only three hours this time. We wanted him back straight away. Even though he were certain where he would be, at his favourite play place, he wasn’t there.” Akabane said. “How long did this investigation go on for? Two weeks again?” Igarashi said. “A month.” Akabane said. “But once again, there were no witnesses, no reports of suspicious people or vehicles. He just disappeared. Police tried harder this time with a foul play route but once again, with his history, it just seemed so much more likely that he had succumbed to the elements somewhere. That he was trying to stay hidden, he had run away for real.” “You mentioned he was smart, do you think he would be smart enough to evade fully grown adult police? To live off the land or find somewhere else to live?” Igarashi asked, she sounded incredulous. The answer, Spectre knew, was no. He was not smart enough to do that on purpose. He was just lucky. He was smart enough to travel only by dark, yes, and how to start a fire to stay warm but he hadn’t been smart enough to bring more than the clothes on his back. Then again, it was an impulsive thing. If his Mother Tree wasn’t there for him, then maybe the Incident would be and he had been right. Ryoken had found him. A suspicious person, perhaps, but as an eight year old? Not really. Two boys alone in a storm, out having fun splashing in puddles as they walked home. Not an overly concerning scene. “No. He was only six.” Akabane said. “I think this time, he got into the trouble we had initially thought he would. He broke his arm or maybe a leg, he found some hidey-hole and he is still there to this day, I imagine. I think we will find him again one day, but I may not be alive to see that day but I do think, one day, he will be found.” “I hope so, too.” Igarashi said. Spectre glanced at the current timestamp. There wasn’t actually much left of the podcast episode, he realised from it. “That’s a beautiful thought, Akabane-san.” Igarashi continued. “But as you can imagine. A disappearance of a small child, even one who was reportedly a bully, is enough to stir the imagination and denial. There are alternative theories as to what happened. Are you aware of them?” “I am but I am confident in the report that was given at the end of this ordeal. The orphanage, the coroner, and the police all agree that Morishita Shinobu-kun is dead. May he rest in peace.” Akabane said, her voice was decisive. “You don’t even want to give yourself the hope that he’s alive?” Igarashi asked. “This case is resolved as far as I am concerned. I was hoping to dispel rumours.” Akabane confirmed. “Fair enough.” Igarashi hummed. “But I do have some audience participation questions I would like to ask on their behalf. Is it okay if I ask them? Just three.” “Yes, that’s fine.” Akabane replied. “Question one, what was the aftermath of his second disappearance like? I’m kind of bundling another question in here but if you like, did he get another funeral? Was there even a first funeral?” Igarashi asked. “There were two funerals. One more serious than the other, as you would imagine. The second time he went missing, there was a naive air of children thinking he would be back. Again.” Akabana began to explain. Igarashi hummed, “I see.” she added. “The original cohort who had been there when he went missing the first time had already begun to phase out so there were a lot of children who barely knew him. They were more respectful than those who had either been bullied by him or had bullied him but it was still quite strange. Especially since some children had already been familiar with death thanks to their own circumstances, so they disagreed with being dragged into even more of it through Shinobu-kun. “I’m glad they happened though,” Akabane said, “but I won’t lie. If we could have a third funeral with his remains, have them cremated and properly interred, that would mean a lot to me.” “I’m sure it would.” Igarashi nodded. “Sounds complicated, I can’t imagine having to wrangle so many mixed opinions belonging to children. Death is hard to grapple with and process at any age but especially when it's under such odd circumstances like Shinobu-kun’s, and with prior trauma from their own circumstances.” “Indeed.” Akabane murmured. Spectre could imagine it, however. The orphanage’s mess hall, his picture up and incense lit for him at one end of the table, all the placements set and filled. Everyone wearing black but the grandiosity of the occasion of a funeral’s wake was lost on all the children. “Question two, I know you said you do not believe he is alive but there is a prevailing theory that if he is alive, then he was involved with the Incident from last year involving the Link VRAINS. This is, admittedly, a far-fetched theory but it is mentioned here and there online so I would like to bring it up due to its popularity as a wild card theory.” Igarashi began to give context to her question, cuing it up. Spectre was actually aware of this theory. It amused him on account of being so close to being so right. They actually posted here and there about it in an effort to cook up as much doubt on it as possible. The crazy theory only the real weirdo conspiracy theorists would believe in an effort to discredit it since it was real and true. Perhaps SOL Tech might have to do more clean-up since it was apparently going mainstream, if only as a pet to laugh at like it sort of seemed here in Igarashi’s words as she finally got to her point. “Previous Security Manager Kitamura Daigo-san encountered one of the cyber terrorists involved with the Tower of Hanoi Incident and some people have noticed a startling likeness between this man and Morishita Shinobu-kun. He does somewhat match a few interpretations of Shinobu-kun’s aged forward likenesses the police have matched over the years. Do you have a take on that?” Igarashi asked. “Coincidence. Seeing connections where there aren’t any. The Link VRAINS uses user generated avatars, there is a slim possibility that a criminal at large designed his avatar using Shinobu-kun’s age progressed portraits as inspiration but I think it is coincidence at best.” Akabane said. “Portraits the orphanage have never endorsed, I would like to point out. The police are keeping that lead open purely because of public speculation. They, like us, still believe he is dead.” Spectre chuckled to himself. It was this rough, barky chuckle at the bottom of his throat. Akabane was hilarious. She really, truly had no idea. That was good for them, the Knights of Hanoi, he supposed. But this question time, it was really good! He was enjoying it. Then the tone of voice changed. The final question. Igarashi, the hostess, spoke up once more. She got serious. “Alright, well, this is from me rather than my audience, but for the third and final question of the episode: if there was one last thing that you could tell him, dead or alive, what would it be?” Igarashi asked. “I would want to tell him I’m sorry.” Akabane said and her voice cracked. Spectre could practically hear the tears streaming down her face as she remained composed enough to continue her interview. “I tried my best but I do not believe I did my best for you.” Spectre choked on his breath. The reaction was involuntary. One minute, he had been laughing. The next, he was crying. He was sobbing, he tried his best to withhold a noise from his mouth but it was impossible. He felt like a child, trying to curl up into a foetal position, trying to curl up into a lap to be consoled but he was alone. Just himself and the ghost of Akabane's words. He felt a fat, swollen tear streak down the side of his face so he buried himself in his pillow. The earphone fell out of place but that made Akabane’s sorrow and regret all the more genuine to Spectre. It wrenched deep in his heart, in his soul… “I had the most responsibility over you, being the one to find you. I’m sorry I lost you, again and again. I should have been the one to keep finding you. I wish I could have given you that love you wanted but I could not give due to my duties. I regret that very much. You were so smart and troublesome, yes, but I find it more endearing now than at the time. I’m sorry, I wish you could have lived well.” Akabane said. Her speech was eloquent. Her words were as soft and sweet as honey dripping off a dipper. She was just choked up enough so the audience, the listeners, could hear her tears without being a garbled mess. It was clear to Spectre that she had rehearsed this speech, that she had held onto it so tightly, crafting it over the years just for this opportunity. It was selfish. It was mostly for her. So that she, too, could become a victim of this case. A martyr, also. The sweet, kind orphanage worker who had done her best but her best wasn’t enough in the face of such strange and mysterious circumstances. Spectre felt his blood pressure go up. He was revolted. He was consoled. He had always felt like a ghost but this... This was completely different. He was listening to his own eulogy. It wasn't even a simile, that is exactly what it was. “That was… That was, wow. My breath has been taken away, that was very beautiful, Akabane-san. Thank you for sharing that with us.” Igarashi said. “Thank you for asking to come on my show at all. I appreciate it.” “I appreciate you providing a space for me to talk about these things. They have weighed heavy on my shoulders for the past eleven years. Perhaps, I can move forward now with this finally behind me. I’ve said my peace. I simply hope I’ve put this case to rest, as much as I can.” Akabane said, her breath was shaky. “I think you have.” Igarashi consoled her. There was a chime and that was the audio cue for Spectre to realise that Igarashi was all alone. Closing remarks ensued. Just a quick rehash of his sob story and thank yous to the audience for listening, credits for the music and sound editing, and so forth. Spectre paused it before the timestamp could complete and the next episode could roll on. Spectre pulled himself up and he was trembling. He felt weak in his arms but heavy in his legs. His cheeks were wet but drying from the tears that he had cried. He had been fine until… until that last reply to the final question. The host wasn’t wrong. Akabane’s words were beautiful. They had been perfectly chosen to convey these feelings of dredged up turmoil, of her failure and her regret and it was cathartic to hear that she had failed him. That she hadn’t tried her best. That she still cared for him, even though he had been a painful, difficult child. And yet it was a spit in the face in the very same breath. Where to next now? Spectre asked himself. He was half glad that Akabane’s words had reached the very person whom she was talking to but it's not like he could tell her that they had. That they had moved him. Well, where to next was… Spectre had better return Kyoko’s MP4 to her. He could do that, at the very least. His nose wrinkled. Kyoko likely didn’t realise it but she and Akabane were quite similar. Both red-heads and he was in both their care. At one time or another. That amused him. He was glad that he had listened to it. His head throbbed and his heart hurt but it was worth it to open these old wounds, Spectre felt. Yes, listening to this podcast was akin to opening Pandora’s box but the thing which remained in her box, after all the monsters and horrors were released, was hope. Spectre could take some pleasure, not a lot, in knowing he was alive and he was living well, just like Akabane wished. He had simply been found by who was meant to find him.