SWNOVELXO Chapter 11: Ch.001 – Hither away – 06
The mirror-like elevator doors sliding open with a quiet sound. The woman stepped out with heels clicking lightly against the floor, then she stopped in front of the ebony-paneled door. One golden plaque gleamed under the soft hallway lights.
'205. KHX CEO – Reika Hiraga –'
Each letter etched with elegant precision, like the woman who now pressed her thumb against the biometric scanner.
She stepped inside once the lock clicked open. The familiar hush of her office greeted her like a waiting servant. Walls paneled in polished dark oak veneer, wide glass windows letting in the late afternoon sun, sheer curtains fluttering faintly from the airflow with the scent of soft floral aromatic oil filling the room.
*Beep. Beep. Beep.*
Her amber eyes shifted toward her desk. The office phone pulsed with a slow, steady green light with a low chime. She moved toward it without breaking stride and picked up the receiver.
"Ah finally! This is lobby desk, good afternoon, Miss Reika—"
"Hello. Is it my lunch? You can bring it to me now."
"About that— Miss Reika… the truth is, um… well… earlier today, the usual delivery guy showed up like always, but the security said two police officers were already waiting outside. They inspected his scooter… and, um, they found something. And looks like they're detaining him."
Reika's expression didn't change, but she blinked once slowly.
"…What?"
"Yes. They arrested him on the spot. Then, not long after, another team of police came in with a search warrant. Said the delivery man was caught with possession of illegal drugs. They asked about the delivery drop-offs and they needed to speak to whoever in the building requested regular deliveries from that vendor. In fact... they're still waiting here, in the lobby…"
"…I see." She sighs as she slumped to the leather chair.
"Miss Reika… uhm… what should I say to the police?"
She looked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city stretched outward with bit of snowflakes falling.
"I'll come down, bring them to the meeting room, 3rd floor."
"Alright, Miss Reika."
She returned the receiver to its cradle. For a moment, she remained in her seat, her fingers still resting on the polished edge of the desk.
Closing her eyes, then with one hand, she slowly pressing a finger against her forehead with soft pressure. The weary sigh that escaped her lips was almost inaudible.
"What a hassle."
When she opened her eyes again, she tracked the clouds drifting behind the skyline.
Drugs...?
Her thoughts began to move; she immediately traced back her memory. To the stranger in her garden she sees these past weeks.
But I don't think Mr. Tetsuo had anything to do with these kind of thing… so perhaps that deliveryman run another job?
She pictured his posture, relaxed and lazy in her mind. The way his eyes wandering.
Courier. Mover. Possibly a front.
"He could have been playing the fool."
The timing fits. He shows up during my routine break. Alone… Is he really instructed to watch me… especially with the way he's always writing something there…?
She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering his patterns.
No—he was too messy to be deliberate. If he were truly running a drop for a syndicate, he wouldn't have lingered. Wouldn't leave an impression... If anything, maybe he's just a throwaway piece. An expendable pawn meant to draw me out—
"At the very least… it's a threat until proven otherwise."
Despite her relaxed posture, her gaze narrowing as she continued to analyze the situation. Someone was poking at her zone, and it was far from subtle.
--------
The walls didn't echo as they absorbed the silence, just like a concrete tomb.
Renji sat stiff in the metal chair, arms in a handcuff above the table, he's sweating all over despite the chill. Staring at a sealed evidence bag in front of him.
Across the table, two uniformed officers hovered like vultures. One sitting with his arms crossed, the other leaning back besides the door behind.
The taller officer leaned forward and tapped the bag with a gloved knuckle.
"In case you've never seen it up close, that's cocaine," the officer said flatly, but his eyes glinted with sarcasm. "Now tell me— where was this headed? Who was it meant for?"
"As I've said, it's not even mine."
"Male. About one-seventy centimeters. Dark, wavy hair. Works a delivery job as cover. Drops the package at KHX, always before noon. Sound familiar?"
"Sounds like me, except for the 'front' and the 'package.' I only have one job, and that's delivering damn dumplings. Not anything else."
"Attitude's not helping, brat. Start giving us real answers."
"I. Don't. Know," Renji said while holding his frustration. "I picked up food. I dropped it off. That's it. Ask Tetsuo. Ask the front desk at KHX if you want!"
"Tetsuo," the officer behind him repeats. "Owner of WaraGyo, right? What's your relationship to him?"
Fuck!! Does it really belong to old man Tetsuo!? I don't have a clue!!
Despite the urge to blame him, Renji held back recalling how Tetsuo treat him all this time with kindness.
"…I'm… just a part-timer, alright?!"
"And that's a boring lie."
"You're wasting your time!! I'm being set up! Who the hell even gave you my name?!"
The seated officer slammed his fist against the table with a dull thud. "We're the ones asking questions here, brat! not you…"
"You should start cooperating while we're still being patient," the other one added, with harsher tone. "You think we haven't seen this before? You fit the pattern. You've been hovering around KHX for weeks, always the same window. This wasn't random."
"Of course I am! I'm on a schedule! What else do you want me to say!? I told you—I don't know a thing about this!!"
"That's it? Just happened to be hauling enough stuff to put you away for fifteen years, and you didn't notice?"
Renji gave a short and humorless jab. "If you guys didn't put it there, maybe it teleported in there. Shit's wild these days."
And then like a bullet, the officer sitting in front of Renji lunged forward, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him halfway across the table.
"DON'T FUCKING JOKE AROUND!!" He shouted as his eyes filled with anger. "You think this is some comedy routine? You wanna throw your life away with smartass bullshit?!"
Renji's fists balled tight against his palms, the air was thick now, pressuring him with the gravity.
And then—
'Click.'
The door swung open behind them.
"Okay, okay," came a low, hoarse voice that laced with boredom. "Chillax guys, go grab a nice lunch for yourself... Seesh, It's sweaty here."
The two officers froze mid-motion. Then, like someone had release a pressure valve, the tension leaked from the room. The officer gripping Renji's collar let go with a grunt, letting Renji's half suspended body flopped back into the chair with a loud rattle.
"Tch. Whatever."
One of the police gave a lazy glance toward the door. "It's yours then." Then both men stepped out.
The man that just entered the room didn't move at first.
He stood there in the open doorway, cigarette hanging at the corner of his lips. His suit looked like it hadn't been ironed in weeks, wrinkled down the sleeves. As if someone who didn't care much about appearances. But on the other hand, his hair was very opposite to the condition of his clothes, it was combed neatly with pomade, white lines in between the dark hair.
After shutting the door behind him with a click, he stepped in and wandered around the room, his stare already tearing Renji open with it while circling him.
He opened the document folder in his hand.
"So… Renji Tohara, huh… Born 10/10/2003…"
Renji could feel unexplainable discomfort the moment this man stepped in.
"No records so far… As of today, 3/12/2024, detained by possession of illegal drugs."
Then the man finally sat across from him, with a gesture so unserious compared to the two police officer earlier.
"Makotoji Suwabe, Private detective. One of the reasons who got you sweating in cuffs right now."
He smiled. But it wasn't a kind smile. It was thin and smug. The kind of smile that made it easier to punch.
"…What? You're the one who—?!"
"Hey, I said one of the reasons. Don't jump to conclusions."
Then he laughed—low and to himself, Suwabe tapped his cigarette against the edge of the table, watching Renji with a gaze that didn't blink nearly enough.
"I always hate it when the young ones get caught up in this shit," he mumbled, almost like he was talking to himself.
He flips open the folder back and forth with two fingers, revealing rustled pages.
"Where's your family?"
"I've got no relatives anymore."
"Not even one…?"
"…If you think I'm lying, Check it yourself."
"Heh, fine… WaraGyo. KHX. You've been bouncing between both, yeah? Looks like a clean hustle. Not even breaking law. That's either an obedience or a setup..."
"What are you getting at?"
Suwabe looked up and smiled— "Tohara. How long you been working delivery there?"
Renji squinted, his mind tells him not to play along with this man. But something about the way he asked it made silence feel worse.
"…Three weeks, closing to a month now."
I've worked almost a year with Tetsuo last year too… but fuck it, I'm not telling him that…
Suwabe nodded slowly.
"And in those time, how many did you check the contents of the package before dropping it off?"
"It's not my job to—"
"That's the problem, isn't it? Nobody checks and asks, no one want to know. Real convenient life."
He took a long drag on his cigarette, later on, lazily nodded at the black package sitting between them on the table. "Hey, Tohara... you know what that is?"
"...That's cocaine. The earlier officer said—"
"You know what it's used for?" His voice turns half-mocking. "This stuff you were carrying?"
"...To get high? I don't know. And I'm not carrying it! Because of THIS thing, I'm wasting my time here!!"
"That so?"
"What?" Renji frowned, his head itchy and damp with cold sweat from confusion.
"Man… Nice to be you."
He glanced at the package again, like it disgusted him.
"You think drugs are just some Hollywood thing? Mafia flicks, nosebleeds, and club bathroom sex scenes?" He shook his head with a sarcastic smile.
"Never used one," Renji answered curtly, almost irritated. "Can't relate."
"—Real drugs aren't sexy… They're not cinematic. They're rattling teeth. Seizures at bus stops. Twelve-year-olds selling to thirteen-year-olds. Moms on the floor while the baby cries in the next room."
He rolled his lighter between his fingers, playing with it as a habit. "You think this is just about you and a bad delivery shift?"
Isn't that what happened to me here!?
Renji just keeps a steady glare at the detective.
"10 years ago. There was this young father with one kid. Wife worked nights to help cover monthly bills. Dad was always busy—figured he'd make it up to them later."
Suwabe dragged from his cigarette again, slower this time.
"One night, he comes home to commotion outside his apartment, topped with flashing lights from police cars… Some fuckers smuggled wrong product and whole apartment floor overdosed. Tons overdosed and got heart attack, doped wife and kid jumped together off the balcony."
Despite the brutal story, his phrasing was robotic cold. Like he was reading off a case file.
"There are suspects. But no arrests. Someone kept the money flowing. Month later, the whole neighborhood gets bought up by a 'development fund.' Crime stats dropped. Case closed."
After Suwabe throw a meaningful glance at the mirror wall on the side of the room, he finally looked at Renji again, dead in the eyes.
"I guess that's justice these days."
"...What's your point?"
"Insight, Tohara—Now back to my question. You know what it's used for?"
"...Based on your story? To ruin people's lives?"
"Heh…"
A long silence followed. The static of the room, the flickering light overhead. Then Suwabe added, voice low— "To rake in money for the rich."
Renji didn't retort. Letting him continue.
"…Drugs are a big no no, Tohara boy… One crime can ruin your whole life."
"Whatever you think it is, I'm a victim."
"…Whatever you think it is, you're guilty in my eyes and this nation's law."
Fuck…
"Let's make this quick, who's your head in Kokuren?" The question he throws to Renji wrapped in almost too casual of a tone.
Renji blinked, genuinely confused. "Hah? What was that?"
The detective watched, trying to read an answer. One second. Two. Then he sighed, like the result disappointed him either way.
"Right," he said, dragging the cigarette from his mouth, tapping excess ash into a paper cup. "Thought that might ring a bell."
"What was that name you said?"
"Nevermind. Do you know what KHX is?"
"… International logistic stuff…? Just glance it at the front desk, never use their service though…"
"Rich people don't have just one business. Not the smart ones, anyway. Especially not when there's global reach, off-shore money, private routes..."
Where's this going on?? His ramblings are all over the place…
"…So what? You're saying whole company's dirty?"
"I didn't say that, but if you're delivering packages to a place with possible connections like that, don't you think—just maybe—someone wanted you to get caught?"
Suwabe smirks deepened. "You're a no-name kid. No reason for anyone to suspect you. Plain delivery boy that easy to pin and easier to toss. At worst, you just had to be in the wrong place with the wrong package."
Wait! This guy understands!!
"You see!! That's right! I AM being set up!! Please help me!!" Renji snapped, fists clenched on the table in hope.
Yet the man in front of him didn't move. Just staring silently with detached look. Then, after a long eye staring contest, he spoke—with almost like a whisper.
"Yeah, looks that way."
"...What?"
"Real textbook."
"You know that I'm not guilty, right??"
Suwabe tilted his head back over the chair, almost like he was listening to something only he could hear.
"To catch a ghost...one needs something to bait it out…" His gaze slid back to Renji.
"…Ghost? What?"
"Some bunches are too clean. You can't catch them with handcuffs and warrants anymore." He gave a bitter half-smile. "So... you really are the sweet convenient spot."
His fingers drummed softly on the table. "Well… If it could make you feel better, perhaps you're a loose thread someone tugged on. That's all." He stood slow and steady, the chair creaking under him.
"And sometimes…" he adds, voice dropping into an amused sigh, "...Pulling hard enough on a thread, the whole suit unravels."
"Hah? What are you talking about??"
"You might think you're the wrong man, at the wrong place… To me though… You're the right man, at the right place…"
"WHAT??"
"I'll do everything to bring 'them' to law," he said calmly, lighting new cigarette without looking away. "No matter how… or who."
"H-Hey—where the hell are you going?!"
The man adjusted his wrinkled coat, then turned his head toward the one-way mirror on the wall with a faint smirk ghosted his face.
"And that's that, Ms. Yamagami, I'm done. Taking my leave now."
"What—wait, what?! WAIT!!"
"Hey… you haven't asked for a lawyer," Suwabe said casually as if talking to an old acquaintance. "Smart or dumb. Still not sure which."
And with the final click, the door closed. Empty and silent room, except for Renji's breathing sound in frustration.
The fuck was that all about?!
Then the door opened again.
A woman stepped in, looks like early in her 30s. She's clad in clean police uniform under a long coat, her long hair draped to her back, dark with a hint of faint crimson. Her expression was at best described as—cold mysterious beauty behind her glasses.
She took one look at Renji. "You'll be detained here until further investigation."
"…Are you serious…"
He let his head hit the table, the resignation of a man who had no way out of this.