Nightmare

"Ko?"

Inspector Nobuchika Ginoza had a bad feeling when he peeked in on Division One's office. Everyone else was gone. It was dark, save for the green luminescence of one computer terminal still on.

Inspector Shinya Kogami's.

The man himself was typing away on his tablet, keys clacking away fiercely, as though his fingers couldn't move fast enough. When Ginoza got closer, he caught the sharp, burning whiff of smoke, and for a moment, he stopped, taken aback.

Kogami wasn't a smoker.

Not as long as he'd known him, anyway.

Yet here he was, in the dark, working at his computer like it was the only other thing in the universe that existed to him, with a lit cigarette stuck out of the corner of his mouth. A whole pack of them—Spinels—sat beside the keyboard on his desk.

Ginoza took a deep breath. He never thought there'd be a time where his friend would make him nervous like this. One of the many things he'd been able to count on growing up was that Kogami always had his back. And he, in turn, had his.

He cleared his throat and tried again. "Ko," he repeated, a bit more firmly.

At the very least, Kogami made a grunt of acknowledgement, but otherwise, he was still absorbed in his work at the computer.

Ginoza sighed. Well, it was an in, anyway.

"You have any idea what time it is?" he asked.

"Hm?" At long last, Kogami paused in his typing and glanced away from his computer screen, checking his watch. Yet he seemed unconcerned that it was nearly midnight.

There was a clouded, unfocused look to his eyes though that Ginoza had noticed of late. Like he wasn't even seeing anything of what was actually in front of him. Like his mind was somewhere else.

However, he finally did look at Ginoza, and without breaking his gaze he took a drag on his cigarette, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger as he took it out of his mouth so he could tap the ash off into a nearby empty can of milk coffee and at the same time exhale a stream of smoke. There was something very dragon-like in the way he did that set Ginoza on edge.

He tried the soft approach again, like before. "Ko. I'm sorry but…you look like hell."

Kogami raised an eyebrow at him and then corner of his mouth curled sardonically, his expression clearing just a little. "Thanks. Love you too, Gino."

Ginoza's green eyes cut between his partner and the Spinels on the desk. "I don't think the smoking's helping, if you want my opinion."

Kogami leaned back in his chair with the lit cigarette still balanced between his fingers. His eyes raked across his computer screen again, the irises glazing over to like how they were a moment ago. "They help me think," he said simply, and took another drag, and exhaled another stream of smoke. "And not just 'cuz of the nicotine. So don't start spouting some crap about using one of those medicated patches instead, or finding one of those safe psychotropic drugs. There's something…about the feel of it in my hand like this…that helps too. I know that it's there. Focuses my thinking as much as the nicotine itself." Not once did his eyes waver from that screen as he said this.

"I wasn't going to say anything of the sort, so enough with the profound rambling," Ginoza muttered. "Jeez, I had no idea you had such a penchant for hearing the sound of your own head rattle." Still, he was unable to keep from regarding the screen himself. He knew what he would find when he looked, but on the other hand, he couldn't help that one last sliver of hope that maybe he was wrong.

Only he wasn't.

He saw the same photos they'd all pored over for the last three weeks, for what felt like three months. Bodies cleaved and hewn into grotesque parodies of themselves, the plastination turning bloody corpses into gruesome creatures that solemnly reminded you that in the end, the human form was nothing more than meat, blood, and bone.

In the top righthand corner was the newest one they'd obtained. The corpse of one of their own. His body twisted into something inhuman. Even in his eyes, all the humanity had been sucked out of him along with his life. But the way he'd died, forensics showed that he'd still been alive when the sick bastard who'd killed him had started to dismember him. Like they'd wanted to be sure he felt every painful cut, every agonizing rending of sinew and hack to the bone…until his heart gave out and he breathed his very last.

Enforcer Mitsuru Sasayama.

Surreally, at least the way Ginoza saw it, near that stomach-churning photo Kogami had a snapshot pinned to the computer's monitor. It was one of all three of them—himself, Kogami, and Sasayama—all at this cabaret club called Pink Paradise, a.k.a. Pin-Para. It had been Sasayama's idea of course. He'd wanted to celebrate Kogami's getting transferred to Division One as an Inspector. Sasayama, naturally, was already red faced from drinking, laughing his ass off. And Ginoza, naturally, looked grouchy even while he was finally giving in and taking a sip of the beer Sasayama had pushed toward him.

And Kogami…he'd actually looked rather meek in the way he was enjoying his own drink. Like he was on a first date or something. Still innocent, even after his time thus far as an Inspector. But back then, he'd been an expert at managing his hue and keeping his Crime Coefficient down. Almost too good.

Now, Kogami started tapping the fingers of his freehand on his desk, but Ginoza noticed a tremor to them. Like a twitch. Like a restless animal. Like a ticking bomb about to go off.

"You realize that this case has been closed, right?" Ginoza pointed out to him, taking a step forward. "We've got other work we need to be focusing on."

"Do we?" Kogami glanced up at him, and his expression was almost accusatory. "To me, calling this case closed is a bold-faced lie, calling it unsolved is an insulting compromise. Especially to Sasayama. As far as I'm concerned, there's still work that needs doing here."

Ginoza narrowed his eyes, unable to hold back a glare. It was frustrating, and saddening at the same time, to see his good friend unnecessarily clouding his hue with what was clearly something that had morphed into an unhealthy obsession.

"Give it a rest, Kogami," he told him, his tone brooking no argument.

Even so, Kogami gave another mirthless and sardonic chuckle, flicking more ash off of his cigarette into the coffee can. "Like hell I'm gonna do that," he said, unabashedly defiant. "Sasayama'd kick my ass if I did. Not that I'd blame him. I'd wanna do the same thing." He stuck the cigarette back in his mouth. "Gino, I am so goddamn close to this thing," he said, the cigarette hopping up and down just ever so slightly even while half of it was crushed in between his teeth.

"Kogami, I am not kidding around here. You've got to let this thing go. I'm well aware what the results of your latest hue check were. And the way you've been casually ignoring the recommendation to get therapy."

"This is more important than my hue, Gino. At this point, as long as I get this done and put Sasayama's soul to rest, I don't care where I end up."

A memory flashed in Ginoza's mind, of the day they took his dad away because his Crime Coefficient had shot up too high…the way he'd looked over his shoulder at him while he'd cried and clung to his mother's leg, begging him not to go…the way the old man had smiled at him…perhaps to reassure him but…in hindsight…it was like he was more than just resigned to it…it was like didn't even care…didn't care that what was happening was making his own son scared, and upset, and angry—

"That is enough!" he snapped, and before he could stop himself, he lifted a foot and got a hold of the edge of Kogami's chair.

Kogami only had a moment to react and actually look shocked before Ginoza shoved so hard he sent his partner slamming back into the desk behind him—his own desk.

"Damn it, Kogami, don't give me that shit about you not caring about your hue clouding!" he shouted at him, looming over him in the kind of wrathful way he'd have never had the guts to do before.

But then, Kogami had never given him a reason to resort to something like this with him, and it was only because of him that he had that confidence in the first place. Before, he'd suffered the ridicule of every kid in school who'd known about what had happened to his dad. And then, they'd only left him alone because Kogami would come within inches of outright curb-stomping them, which luckily had been enough to shut them up before setting off any alarms.

And afterward, he'd always mosey back over to Ginoza with that lazy grin of his, and give him back whatever item those bastards had nabbed off of him during their ritual bullying, like a bag or a tablet.

"Don't worry about them Gino. They're just idiots."

Ginoza still had the ball of his foot on the lip of the chair seat, pressing firmly back against the edge of his own desk. "What's the point if you let yourself get swallowed up by the mud?! Huh?! God, Ko, you can be such a damn fool sometimes!" His voice cracked on the word "fool".

Kogami, after shaking off what Ginoza had just done, ground his teeth with the cigarette still burning, looking now like a wolf about to bite him, though Ginoza didn't waver. For his sake, he couldn't.

Yet the lividity in his harsh eyes dissipated, turned sympathetic even. Perhaps a little sad too.

Because they both knew what Ginoza was really trying to say, after everything that had passed between them in the years they had known each other.

I've already lost my dad. I'm not losing you too.

And yet….

Kogami reached up and took the cigarette out of his mouth, exhaled more smoke, but respectively avoiding getting any in his friend's face as he looked up at him. "Look, Gino, don't worry about me. I know that if they made worrying a sporting event, you'd be the champion, but…look, just forget about me. If at least you still manage to keep your hue in check, I'll actually be happy for that."

He balanced the cigarette between his fingers again, and the smoke rose up silkily between them as the two of them stared at each other.

Then Ginoza bowed his head, on the edge of punching the idiot in front of him in that saddening smile of his.

"Forget about you? You're asking me…to do that? Why do you think I'm here, trying so hard not to hit you right now? Because it's my job as your partner and fellow Inspector? Screw that."

He looked at him again, and saw that Kogami was regarding him now with a kind of awe and admiration. The way a wayward big brother would regard his more adjusted and accomplished little brother…proud that even though he couldn't be the good guy everyone wanted him to be, at least his little brother could.

And then he looked away, without saying anything else.

And Ginoza already knew that he'd lost. At least this fight, anyway.

Reluctantly, he stood, taking his foot off the chair and adjusting his glasses. He took a deep breath, regaining his calmer demeanor. "Get your shit together, Kogami. I'm not telling you again. Don't throw everything you've worked for away. The world needs detectives like you."

Kogami again gave him a rather surprised look, but couldn't seem to think of anything else to say, leaving Ginoza little else but to walk out of the room and leave him in the dark.

In the time that would come, the memory of his partner in that dark room would haunt him every now and then, making him wish more than anything that he had done something—anything—more, even if it wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference.

When Ginoza came in for his shift the next day, Kogami was out of the office. It was his day off, after all, but Ginoza still felt uneasy.

As for who was in right now, Yayoi Kunizuka was at her desk, flicking through one of her music books while she had her headphones on, waiting for a document to upload on her computer's monitor. At his desk on the other side meanwhile, was….

Tomomi Masaoka was in the middle of typing up a report by the looks of it, but Ginoza felt his father pause and glance his way when he passed him on his way to his own desk. And Ginoza hesitated, just for a second, on a filial impulse to reach out to the man who had raised him and to whom he'd looked up since he was old enough to do it.

Then he sensed Kinuzka raise her head, her own senses pricking up, her eyes flicking between her superior and her colleague. She certainly was perceptive, just like Sybil said she was.

So Ginoza pushed this all aside and continued on to his own desk, where he sank down into his chair. As he did though, he got a little grouchy when he noticed that Kogami's chair had left a dent in the corner after all. Then again, that had been his fault. He'd kicked the chair hard enough.

He glanced over at the chair itself, at the way it sat so quietly back in front of its own desk, so unassuming. The computer terminal there was shut off too, but of course the picture of him, Kogami, and Sasayama was still pinned to the monitor.

Ginoza turned away and switched his own computer terminal on and opened up the form for a new report he needed to type up that morning concerning a case they'd closed the day before where they'd brought in some kid who'd been trying to cheat street scanners while he was up to mischief.

Still, he felt his father watch him every now and then. And yet, while normally this would've gotten under his skin, this time, after the conversation he'd had with Kogami the night before, he felt again that pull, that need to talk to the man like he hadn't in years. He paused in his work, remembering the day they'd transferred Masaoka to Division One, and the two of them had stood looking at each other.

And then Masaoka had broken the uncomfortable situation, diffusing things with the same talented artistry with which he did his watercolors, and reached out his hand—his real one, not his mechanical one—giving that bark of a laugh of his as he said, "Well Inspector, I look forward to workin' with ya."

Somehow, that had made everything easier. Because by doing that, he'd made it clear that he was accepting that it was best if they kept things strictly professional between them. Which had furthered the prudency and emotional impulse of Ginoza's decision, all those years ago, to cast off the name Masaoka same as his mother had, and take her name, Ginoza, instead. It'd be easier to put on the illusion that the two of them were in no way related if they had different surnames. As far as anyone who didn't know that Ginoza was his mother's name, anyway.

So this had left out Kogami, but Kogami, who knew when to be discreet when it really counted, had played along with it without having to be asked. Now though, there was something in the way Kunizuka seemed to glance between Ginoza and Masaoka that was reminiscent of the way Kogami used to, back when he was trying to twist Ginoza's arm into cutting his dad some slack.

"Look, I know what happened made things hard on you. I beat up enough smart-asses who had the gall to antagonize you for it in school to know that. But he's still your dad. Doesn't that still mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does. It means everything to me."

That's why it hurt so much.

However, Ginoza couldn't help something of a relaxation of the tight coils of anxiety in his stomach when Masaoka found him in the nearest breakroom at midday and tentatively approached him as he was getting a milk coffee from the vending machine.

"Hey," he said, and Ginoza snapped open the can as he looked up at his father.

"Hm," was all he answered with, but when he stepped out onto the little balcony overlooking the sunny intersection below, Masaoka easily read his invitation and followed him out there, knowing his begrudging son was too proud to actually say things like, "Can we talk, Dad?"

"So, what's on your mind, kiddo?" Masaoka asked as he joined Ginoza at the railing, speaking as if there hadn't been a wall of ice wedged between them for the past few years.

Perhaps if Ginoza's mind wasn't so clouded by resentment, he'd have seen it for what it was, and that was the unconditional love of a parent. Or more accurately, he did see it and just didn't want to. Or acknowledge that he did, anyway. So stubborn, he knew.

Ginoza took a sip of his drink, trying his best to compose himself and his thoughts.

His father though, of course, saved him the trouble of having to bring up what needed to be discussed.

"It's about Ko, ain't it?"

"Yes," Ginoza affirmed in a clipped voice as he did his best despite everything to be civil. "I…tried talking to him last night." He took another sip of his milk coffee.

Masaoka gave a rather defeated sigh, which nettled something in Ginoza.

He gave his father a sharp look. "What's that for?"

His father avoided looking at him, scratching at the side of his face with the forefinger of his real hand, the metal of the fingers of his mechanical hand clacking on the metal of the railing as he tapped them thoughtfully. As Ginoza watched, the memory of the night his father lost that arm shimmered. Just remembering the way he'd tried to run down that hallway in the emergency ward in the med facility, his mother holding him back, tears streaming down his face at the thought of what had happened, what the bad guys had done to his father.

"Daddy! DADDY! Daddy, please be okay! YOU HAVE TO BE OKAY!"

Ginoza looked away before Masaoka could notice him staring and took another drink.

"Well, it's like this," Masaoka finally said, indeed acting as if he hadn't noticed Ginoza despondently considering his metal hand, the fingers of which he now quit tapping against the railing. "The way I see it…with how Ko's been acting…I don't think at this point there's really anything you or I or anyone else can say to break him from his obsession with what happened to Sasayama. Poor bastard."

By "poor bastard", Ginoza wasn't sure if his dad meant Kogami or Sasayama. Honestly, he could've meant both or either one.

Just the same, what Masaoka said was only serving to nettle him more.

"So, just give up on him then, is that what you're trying to tell me?" He snorted. "I guess I should've expected as much from a latent criminal."

"Come on, Inspector, the guy's as stubborn as you are." Masaoka gave him a slight smile that was undoubtedly affectionate, in spite of himself. "Are you really that surprised? I'm just trying to be truthful with you. Do you want me to lie to you instead?"

At this, Ginoza's frustration deflated within him. "No," he admitted, and finished off what was left off of his drink in one last long pull.

Masaoka considered him a moment and then gave another amused chuckle. Ginoza glanced at him as he finished, holding a now empty can in his hand.

"What?"

"Nothing."

But when the old man looked away, he was still wearing that smile on his face. Amused but…pensive too.

Ginoza sighed, pushing his confusion aside. "Anyway, regardless of what Kogami's odds are…I still want to believe his swinging Crime Coefficient can be steadied and pulled back in the right direction. After all…he's a good guy."

"Essentially," Masaoka somewhat agreed. "But will that matter if the Sibyl System says different? More to the point, there's a quality of anger to Kogami that's…well, even though it comes from a place of good intentions, it's so rooted in pain and regret and other sad and hopeless things that…it's like it's infected…like a…virus on a computer. Heh. Listen to me, make an analogy using tech terms."

"It's the kind of anger that can poison a person who's 'essentially' good, is that what you're saying?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. It has the power to warp a person's way of thinking. Make 'em vulnerable to desperation. Make itself addictive, a drug that makes 'em feel like it gives 'em power. The kind of power that an orderly system just can't."

Ginoza looked up, and caught Masaoka's eye. And saw his father giving him the most serious look that he'd given him in quite some time. The kind that used to make Ginoza nervous when he'd been a child, because it meant he was about to be disciplined for the kinds of infractions that all good parents discipline their children for, and that all children can't help committing because they simply don't know better yet.

"Is that the kind of anger that got to you?" Ginoza asked him quietly. "Is that why you're jumping to the conclusion that someone like Kogami's going to fall?"

"You checked his hue, didn't you?"

"I did. Yesterday."

"Well?"

Ginoza hesitated. "Ninety-nine point seven. With a hue of Blood Red." He shivered.

"Yeah, that sounds pretty angry," said Masaoka, almost off-handedly.

It set Ginoza's teeth on edge, and before he knew it, he'd fisted his hands so tightly that the one holding his coffee can crushed the cylindrical aluminum container into a twisted lump of metal.

"God, could you sound any less concerned?"

"Hey, I'm plenty concerned!" Masaoka insisted, turning indignant. "I don't wanna see Ko fall any more than I—"

"Just shut up, will you?" Ginoza snapped, rounding on his father. He was seconds away from throwing the crumpled can in the man's face, even if it was going slightly red with irritation. And then he steeled himself. "But you'd be okay with it, if he did fall, since he'd probably just accept being an Enforcer instead and throw in with the likes of you. Then you'd have someone you knew personally to share your miserable situation with. Am I right?"

"Hey now," said Masaoka, and there was that look, that tone again, that was dangerous only in the way a parent could make it so.

Ginoza ignored it, turning and pitching the warped coffee can into the little recycling drone in the corner, watching at the machine caught it in its maw and chewed it up, converting it to scrap that could be used in other products. The whirr of the drone shredding the can to bits was oddly satisfying, and it actually served to calm him somewhat.

He pointedly adjusted his glasses as he made to step off the balcony and back inside.

"I won't let Ko end up like you," he told his father. "And that's that."

"I don't doubt you'll give it everything you have until the last," Masaoka sighed. "But…listen…Nobuchika…."

At this, Ginoza paused at the door into the building. It'd been ages…since he'd addressed his son by his given name. Just hearing it…caused a flood of memories, both happy and sad, mixed together, to flood his heart unbidden, constricting his chest and his throat, rendering him incapable of speaking, of doing anything except listening.

"If…he does…fall…please don't blame yourself. You just keep moving forward, you hear? Forget about him, the way you forgot about me. That's the best advice I can give you. I'm sorry."

Only this did nothing but help Ginoza find his ire again.

"This was a mistake," he mumbled, and without another word, he disappeared back inside, Masaoka watching him sadly.

It would be a very long time before the two of them would ever talk alone like this again.

"Sir?"

Ginoza looked up from where he was back to work at his desk, looking over the details of another case they were working on. Kunizuka had gotten up from her desk and approached him.

"Sir I just sent you a preview of my report on the latest scanner vandalization case," she said. "Would you mind taking a look at it? Please, let me know if there's anything I need to change before it gets submitted to the database."

"Oh. I see. Thank you." Ginoza pulled up the report Kunizuka had sent him on his computer and looked over her report. Her work on it was impressively clear and thorough. But that was to be expected. Since she'd come to work as an Enforcer for MWPSB and Division One, not a day went by that Ginoza wasn't glad they'd been able to convince her to get her under their wing. All thanks to Kogami, really, even if he had been reckless about it by handing her a Dominator he'd made her think she could actually operate…just to see if she had what Kogami really valued most in a detective, and that was guts.

And Kunizuka had guts.

Moreover, her affinity for music appeared to give her a mind that was naturally suited to work that required not only guts, but thoughtfulness, and on occasion, improvisation. Not to mention keeping things organized. Today hadn't been the first day Ginoza had watched Kunizuka flicking through a book of sheet music, somehow reading the notes like they were regular words. At least, that's what it looked like to him. He wasn't exactly an expert on things like music.

He could see how Karanamori would find that alone to be an attractive trait.

Glad just to find something he could be genuinely pleased about, he looked back up at the Enforcer from his monitor. "Everything looks to be in order," he said. "I'll make sure this gets to the Chief."

"Thank you, Inspector." Kunizuka gave her superior a slight bow before she turned away to go back to her own desk.

Ginoza watched her for a moment as his thoughts returned to his gnawing concerns for what was happening with Kogami.

As if reading his mind, Kunizuka suddenly spoke up. "You know, Inspector…I wasn't sure what to think…when I first met Inspector Kogami. But…I do think he's got a good head on his shoulders."

Initially, Ginoza stiffened at the prospect of mixing business with personal, seeing as how he'd already botched that up with trying and failing to get some reassurance from his father. But on the other hand, what Kunizuka was saying was making him feel better than anything Masaoka had said to him.

"I won't argue with that," he finally said, adjusting his glasses as he went about uploading Kunizuka's report to the database. "He's got a natural instinct, but at the same time, he still knows how and when to be cautious about things." He glanced over at the Enforcer and then asked, "He certainly knew how to handle persuading you to accept our offer of an Enforcer position. Better than I did, anyway."

The corner of Kunizuka's mouth curled just slightly as she typed out something on her keyboard tablet. "You have your own admirable merits, sir," she commented.

Ginoza lifted his eyebrows. He definitely hadn't expected that.

Sensing this too, it seemed, Kunizuka turned to Ginoza in her chair. "You keep calm no matter what's going on. You approach the job with the kind of seriousness I've seen in the most dedicated musicians. I trust you and Kogami both implicitly."

"Ah. You give me too much credit." Ginoza couldn't help a small smile himself.

"I'm still relatively new here, I mean…compared to everyone else…but from the moment I got through basic training and started work here, I haven't felt as scared as I thought I would in a job that has its risks." Kunizuka gave her book of sheet music on her desk a fond glance. "If I'm being honest, I've been happier than I have been in a long time. After all, I get to play my music now in my spare time. Back in iso, I lost count of how many times my request for guitar strings got denied. Certainly wasn't helping my hue any."

Ginoza leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as he considered her, not just simply what she was saying but also the fact that this was the most he'd ever heard her speak at length. "So music does make you truly happy?" he asked.

"Yes." Guessing what he was getting at, Kunizuka added, "My clouded Psycho-Pass had more to do with…other things. There was…someone. Well, being around her didn't help. Don't get me wrong though…there were times where the songs I wrote and played would make me cry, or just walk around all day with a sad feeling, but on the whole, even when I was sad like that, I was happy about it too. Fulfilled that I could create something on my own that made me feel something real. And I was even happier when I saw the effect it had on my and my band's audiences."

"Hm, that's kind of funny."

"What? How do you mean?"

"That's a lot like how I feel about detective work," Ginoza admitted, softening as he thought for a moment about when he was a kid, and every time he'd run to his dad the moment the man would get home, begging him to tell him about how he'd gotten the bad guy and was making the world a better place because of what he was doing. He wanted to be so much like that man back then. And even when he'd had to watch him turn into a latent criminal, he couldn't ignore that pull to answer that kind of calling. In this way, he could understand Kogami's obsession with getting to the absolute bottom of the Specimen Case.

"Did you always know that's what you wanted to do?" Kunizuka asked, rather tentatively. It seemed she too was intrigued that the two of them were actually having a conversation like this.

"I did, actually. And you?"

"Same. I got it from my father."

Ginoza's chest went tight at Kunizuka's words. He took a moment to master himself before he went on to ask, "Is that so?"

"Yep. He gave me my first guitar, he taught me the basics of how to play. There isn't a time that I'm playing that I don't think about him." Kunizuka was still smiling as she spoke. This was the first time Ginoza had ever seen her smile this much.

And then she looked up and met Ginoza's curious gaze.

"When things started to get bad though…it was hard to play for a while. And then…it was all I could think about doing. Just to make things easier."

"I see."

They were quiet for a moment, as Ginoza let the words Kunizuka said sink in. He thought of Kogami again, about what he'd told him, the way he just…needed to find a better conclusion to what had happened to Sasayama rather than just let it slide away into the void of "unsolved". It was the only way Kogami seemed capable of handling his feelings of horror, guilt, grief, and anger at how Sasayama had died. After all the people the psycho behind those murders had killed the way that he had, Sasayama had been the last straw. And letting the higher-ups sweep it under the rug now that they had allegedly caught the one they said had been responsible and there was no point looking into it further still gnawed at the back of the mind. A missing piece, in the form of that man in that blurry photo Sasayama had managed to get, on that file he'd labeled, "Makishima".

"I told him to leave it alone," Kogami said, curling his hands into fists, struggling to breathe like he had something heavy on his chest. "I told him…and still he…reckless idiot…." He swallowed and then, before he could stop himself, he punched the wall in the elevator. "Damn it!"

And Ginoza had stood there, unable to think of anything to say, feeling guilty and angry himself that they'd lost one of their own the way that they had. Sasayama might've had a short fuse and made his share of shameless passes at Karanamori and Kunizuka both, but there had been a heart to him that couldn't be contained. Of course Kogami of all people had liked that best about the guy, how passionate he was. Especially seeing how sad his life had been before he'd become an Enforcer. His own father had abused him as a youth, and after fighting back and thinking he'd actually managed to kill his father, he'd run off turning himself into the police. Only for his father to actually be more or less fine and go on to sexually violate Sasayama's little sister, now deceased.

The unbearable sadness of it was more than most could handle. Ginoza himself was actually finding it hard to handle, he had to admit that much to himself.

"Sasayama was an ass," Kunizuka suddenly said, appearing to have let her own thoughts fall into despondent places. "But he didn't deserve what he got. Honestly, no one does. Except the sicko who did it." Her hands curled into fists.

Ginoza observed her demonstratively and then pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for something else he could try that could still bring Kogami back from the brink.

And then his and Kunizuka's communicators went off.

It was Division Three requesting backup. Kogami had been flagged by the Sibyl System with a Crime Coefficient of 104.5 and was now on the run with Division Three in pursuit.

With only Ginoza, Kunizuka, and Masaoka on duty at the moment, the three of them raced to catch up with Division Three's hunt for Kogami. With Karanamori tracking back in analysis, their plan was to get ahead of Kogami and cut off his escape, help Division Three box him in.

They managed to head him off in a block of warehouses, probably where Kogami was hoping to lose them with the lack of scanners in that area.

Something rather reckless had a hold of Ginoza's heart at the moment as he drove the car. Like something in him was telling him that if he could just get to Kogami, somehow he could lower his Crime Coefficient back down to a regulation value. Just by being there. Just by reaching him physically.

"Inspector, jeez, watch it!" Masaoka snapped from the backseat as he was thrown to one side when Ginoza fishtailed the car into an open space within the maze of warehouses. Even Kunizuka gave a yelp at the way the vehicle got jarred.

"Sorry," Ginoza muttered when he brought the car to an abrupt stop, still glancing between what was in front of him and the GPS tracking Kogami's location.

According to that, he should be heading right for this lot.

Ginoza straight up kicked the door open with his foot, his Dominator already out as he jumped out and broke into a run. He heard his dad call out for him to hold up, but ignored him. Thankfully, Masaoka and Kunizuka both immediately followed his lead after that, drawing their own Dominators as they trailed after him across the opening.

Of course, the rational part of Ginoza's brain couldn't blame Masaoka. What he was doing now was essentially charging headlong into Kogami (at least according to what he'd last seen on the GPS). But still…he didn't want to give Kogami even the slightest bit of a chance to dodge a shot from the Dominator. He couldn't let him get away.

Sure enough, Kogami rounded the corner up ahead, skidding to stop when he spotted Ginoza gunning for him. He too had his Dominator on him. Clearly he was grasping at any means necessary at this point to avoid getting captured.

Ginoza didn't hesitate and aimed his Dominator.

"Kogami, freeze!"

Kogami stared at him. His own weapon was of course useless to him in his situation. At most he could've used it against Enforcers, but certainly not against other Inspectors, seeing as how if he pointed it at any of them, the gun would just lock.

Yet something in Ginoza told him that even if he could've used the Dominator against him, he still wouldn't. He wanted to at least believe that, even with the desperation and anger in Kogami's eyes.

"Wait, Gino. Look, just hold up, okay? Just give me a chance…." Kogami tried to break back into a run. It seemed like he'd been frozen in shock to see Ginoza, his friend and partner, pointing his gun at him, but he was quickly regaining his mental faculties and was prepared to keep making an attempt to bolt.

Yes, he was right, after all. Kogami bore no ill will towards MWPSB, he had no intention of attacking out of a sheer need for violence. He was running because he still needed the freedom to find the truth buried in questionable ending to the Specimen Case. He still needed that chance to prove to everyone that what Sasayama had been working on had been so much bigger than they'd been told.

There wasn't any fear in Kogami, either. At least, not like the sort found in a fleeing rabbit. No, his fear was more like that of a wolfhound, ready to bite anyone if necessary if they kept him from getting away. Again, no pure need to commit an act of violence, just a last resort that he was willing to reach for.

Resolutely though, Ginoza kept his Dominator locked on Kogami, as did Masaoka and Kunizuka when they caught up to them.

"You've got three Dominators pointed at you, Ko," Ginoza said to him. "Please don't make this harder than it has to be."

Kogami trained a hard and furious glare at him now, even as he stopped again, seeming half between raising his Dominator and lowering it. "I'm so damn close though, Gino! Please, just let me finish this!"

But the cool female voice of Sybil repeated in Ginoza's head:

"Crime Coefficient, over one-hundred-and-six. Target is a registered Inspector. The target's threat judgment has been reappraised. Non-lethal Paralyzer. Aim carefully, and subdue the target."

"Come on, Ko," said Masaoka, somehow gruff but gentle at the same time. "That's enough. It's time to come in."

Kogami glanced between the old man, Kunizuka, and then Ginoza, and then, at last, he relaxed in resignation, lowering his weapon until he had it pointed at the ground, limply at his side. Then he looked at his friend again.

"Gino…I want you to be the one to do it," he told him firmly, with conviction. But also with sorrow. Sorrow that he'd failed. Sorrow that he'd come so close and yet fallen just the same. Sorrow that his best friend had to seem him like this. And that after all of his effort, the case that had taken Sasayama's life would remain locked away in the dark of the unknown.

Ginoza steeled himself, gritting his teeth. "Damn you, Kogami," he growled at him, and pulled the trigger.

And though he'd been bracing himself for how much it would hurt, he hadn't expected it to hurt as much as it did, as he watched Kogami seize up, eyes wide with pain when the pulse hit him before he crashed to his knees and then collapsed unconscious to the ground, his Dominator falling from his hand and sliding across the pavement.

Taking a deep breath and doing his best to shake it off, Ginoza lowered his own weapon just as Division Three came sweeping in. He decided he'd let them handle dragging Kogami in as he coldly turned away.

Kunizuka, having lowered her own weapon along with Masaoka, caught his eye, and he could tell she wanted to tell him something. She had a rare look of sympathy about her.

And yet…after what just happened…Ginoza couldn't accept something like that. Not just because he was always too proud to accept things like sympathy and pity, but also because…he realized that part of this hurt he felt was his own fault, for keeping close to people like Kogami.

He pushed past Kunizuka, brushing her off as he made a beeline for the car. And somehow, he couldn't seem to feel bad about doing something like that to her. After all…she was just an Enforcer. His father had essentially thrown his lot in with such people. And now…so had Kogami.

Gripping the edge of the car door as he held it open, Ginoza was resolved now, that he would never risk a bite from dogs like that ever again.

Before he ducked back into the car, he felt his father's eyes on him, and he looked up and their gazes met across the lot as Masaoka knelt beside Kogami laid out on the ground. And then he looked away, knowing he wouldn't find what he need with him.

Still, it was a mark of how close he wanted to remain to Kogami—at least with the responsibility of a shepherd for his hound—that Ginoza later made the almost fervent insistence to the higher ups that Kogami be allowed to return to Division One when they brought him back in as an Enforcer. At the very least, he wanted to be the one to carry the burden of keeping an eye on the man going forward. That and…as his partner, they had really made such a good team. Once, Ginoza would've called it unstoppable, like the kind of cop duo you'd find in one of those old movies he used to watch with his dad.

After all, there was no one that Ginoza knew who was quite like Shinya Kogami.

No matter what, he would never let himself dismiss that.

THE END