Fated for Misfortune

[Nana Ninomiya]

The small bar was quiet in the early afternoon, settling into the uneasy lull before the evening rush when the salarymen would scurry from their offices seeking cheap booze and solace. Of course Nana would be long gone before the swarm, but the thought made her cringe inwardly and she took a moment to appreciate the current emptiness of the neat little space.


She didn’t know the bar very well, indeed she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out in the city, but the bartender had been polite and hospitable when she’d shown up at his door alone. Choosing a stool by the window so she could watch the people pass by, she ordered a bottle of beer to keep her company until Kayako arrived. A soft drizzle chased raindrops down the window and encouraged the wanderers outside to draw their umbrellas. Nana smiled as she removed her coat, wondering if Kayako would be prepared for the change in the weather.

She removed some handwritten notes from her handbag, carefully setting them down on the clean surface in front of her as the owner of the bar brought over her order with a courteous smile. “The waitresses don’t start till five…” He explained with a light shrug before retreating back to the dingy bar, starting up the radio on route to alleviate the silence.


After a long sip of the cool beer (Asahi, but hadn’t she asked for Sapporo?), she started to peruse the file, rereading the details of the case to refresh her memory. It seemed to be linked to the previous murders but carried out in a different locale; the M.O. was nearly identical and she was worried. She thought she’d taken out the hollow responsible for the first string of attacks, but it was seeming more probable that a wider, more organized entity was behind it. Suzume starts school next month… It was her priority to have solved it by then.


Every now and then she glanced up from her notes, hoping to spot Kayako’s friendly smile in the window. I’m not sure I can do this without her help… Checking her watch, she realized that it was well passed 3pm and her colleague was now well and truly late. She pulled her phone from her bag to make sure her watch wasn’t wrong and scrolled through to ensure she hadn’t missed any calls. Maybe she’s caught up in pathology. Or did she forget? She probably has better things to do after work than meet you in a dingy bar… A café would’ve been better. Fretting slightly, she picked at the label on the empty beer bottle, feeling her gaze shift out of focus as she tried to recall her last conversation with the crime scene tech.

[Iwata Kayako]

Piles of papers, piles of...other stuff. Kayako had begun to feel a creeping anxiety every time she walked into the office and saw those piles of papers. Pavlovian, yeah... Sometimes a pile of papers was nothing. Sometimes it was a disaster. Today, it was a disaster; a new smattering of cases that looked like previous cases, even though the previous cases were still being kicked around in the breakroom by resigned and hopeless detectives. More cases, more victims. Maybe this town really is cursed.

She wasn’t supposed to follow cases. Her job was to gather evidence--leave the pieces on the detective’s desk, let her take care of putting them together. Once she finished examining the scene and the victim and finished the paperwork, it was onto the next scene. Then the next, and so on. The job was growing on her, but she couldn’t stop herself from following Nana’s cases.

It wasn’t like Nana discouraged her. In fact, she had asked Kayako to meet her this afternoon, presumably to talk about it. Even with her abilities, it was hard to read Nana, and even though they had spent time together both on and off the job, Kayako couldn’t help but wonder how she looked through the jaded detective’s eyes. It’s not like my abilities are really that useful to her… She shook the thoughts off for a while and threw herself into the work at hand. I’ll make sure to wrap up on time.

That didn’t happen.

She wasn’t sure how she found herself so engrossed in labelling samples, but by the time she had them all fixed up she realized there was no way she was going to be there on time. Argh! Hopefully Nana would understand, but she rushed out anyway to keep herself from being any later. No time to stop for anything less than the crosswalk lights. She peered through the windows of the bar they had agreed to meet at and saw Nana spacing out in a booth.

At least she wasn’t so late that Nana gave up. Kayako went inside, bagged her wet umbrella and approached the table with a friendly smile and an embarrassed bow. “Hey, um...sorry I’m late, Ninomiya-san. Work happened, you know.” She sat down across from Nana, looking at the files and the fidgeted-with bottle. She wasn’t sure whether to order a drink herself or not. “If you want, I could buy you another one? To sorta make up for being so late…”

[Nanase Haruhi]

After filming for News At Noon wrapped up for the morning, Haruhi loitered around the studio with some of the staff, snacking on a bagel and keeping her ears perked for anything that she might be able to weave into a solid scoop. Anything that wasn’t a grisly crime scene would be great, because of course they had been keeping the public informed of the latest murders.

You’d think the city with the highest murder rate in Japan would have a more competent police force. It wasn’t just her thinking it, either. Most of her journalist friends were just as resentful. Maybe they were all jaded--after all, everyone said all the newspaper brings is bad news. You really couldn’t win as a news outlet, especially a local one; Cover happy things, they call it glurge. Cover the nasty stuff, they call it pessimism.

Maybe we really should bring back Yamane-san’s Travelscope segment… They would have to rebrand and find someone to cover it now that Yamane-san had retired, but the fact that the segment had gone with her always made Haruhi a little sad.

Once it was apparent that nobody had a lead to follow, Haruhi decided to wipe off her concealer, say goodbye and canvas the city for her evening segment. A yuru-chara sighting, some celebrity nonsense…God, anything. Something’s gotta pop off between now and the 6 PM shoot. That was the challenge of being the finger on the pulse of Karakura in particular--aside from the whole death business, it was often stone quiet in the small town.

Other wards had it easier, definitely, but where was the fun in easy? The real soul of journalism was getting out there and working for your stories, balancing the points of view and cold hard fact into a story that kept the public in the know. She had plenty of friends who thought she was way off base, but the magic of honest journalism showed in the ratings. A pretty face and unwillingness to spin the truth got her this far, and if she was going to leave a legacy, that would be a good one. Pretty and honest.

She hadn’t expected it to be so gloomy out, but there was a pile of loaner umbrellas in the lobby for their on-location reporters so she missed out on a drenching this time. It was so nice this morning. This is why I don’t believe in meteorology. Quack science, the lot of it. Even their weatherman didn’t really believe in it; “Making money off educated guesses” was how he put it.

Her first stop in the search for a scoop was the museum and the few blocks around it, and a quick chat with one of the curators left her with a nice, not-murder-related nugget to inform the public of. She needed more than just an upcoming museum presentation to pull this thing together, but it was a nice change from grim news bits and hollow sound bites assuring the public that everything will be okay, they’re working on it, it’s fine.

Before she knew it she’d gathered a few things to spotlight. An art class starting up (a fun on-location segment!), local shelters, good citizens...it may have been a slow bad news day, but that just made her work harder to find some shining good news for the evening.

There was still a long way to go before she had the whole thing together, but she figured that they wouldn’t be missing her until 5:30, and it was early enough to grab a drink before the bars in town got too packed. She found one of her favorite “hideout dives”--those places popular enough to be good but not quite enough to draw a large crowd early on. She checked out the window to make sure she would be mostly alone, but…

Well, now...this is interesting. They seemed wrapped up in conversation so she knew they wouldn’t pay attention to her unless she came to the table, but she knew one of those faces very well. Ninomiya Nana, an unflappable veteran detective who was loathe to give reporters the time of day, let alone statements.

Haruhi was sure that she was involved in the investigation of the murders, but who was the other girl? Haruhi couldn’t even guess. Why would she meet a coworker in a deserted bar? Was this girl even old enough to be her coworker? Is she even old enough to drink?

Shelving her judgments, Haruhi slipped into the place quietly and sat at the bar, ordering some umeshu to treat herself before considering her options. Her desire to know what on earth the police thought they were doing was eating her alive, but if she wanted to get answers then just about anyone would be better than her.

[Nana Ninomiya]

Nana was roused from her reverie as she heard the door open, and she couldn't stop herself from snapping to attention to see who had arrived. The immediate sense of relief when the familiar face came into view was intense and she smiled as Kayako approach apologetically, her doubt vanishing in an instant.

"Afternoon, Iwata-san. It's not too late, let's catch up now. I'll have another of these-" she shook the empty, labelless bottle with a wry smile, "it was Asahi before I had my way with it."

While Kayako ordered the next round, she took a moment to collect her thoughts and straighten the notes she had been leafing through. She crossed her legs, pulled back her hair and scraped the shredded label into the ashtray. By the time Kayako returned, she felt sharp and ready to engage despite the beer (one or two won't make a difference)...

"Did something happen at the office?" she asked curiously, knowing there had to be a good reason for her friends lateness. For a brief moment she wondered if another attack had been reported but she'd surely have been the first point of contact. Kayako looked a little harassed but otherwise none the worse for wear. Nana knew that she was determined to do a good job but with her 'ability' the overwhelming feeling of dejection and frustration felt by the entire force must have been overwhelming. A warm pang of affection and gratitude for the tech kindled a smile and she dipped her head to meet Kayako's gaze. "Don't burn yourself out, ok? Now, tell me what you've been working on-"

Nana stopped abruptly at the sound of the door opening again. Though she remained still, her eyes narrowed as she followed the figure across to the bar. She vaguely recognised the woman as a journalist she'd seen before but couldn't recall her name. Not that she made any effort to memorise those carrion crows; they made the lives of her officers hell, circling relentlessly, looking for any scraps to steal for their next big story. The new streak of unsolved murders had only made matters worse, and any delicate symbioses between the police and reporters had been destroyed. Though they were useful sources of information, Nana had always been reluctant to deal with them. Still, everyone had to get by and she had a 'live and let live' policy; as long as she didn't bother them her presence would be tolerated.

With a hushed voice the detective tried to resume their conversation. "Did the new evidence reveal anything we didn't know before?" She leaned in closer to Kayako, hoping to conceal herself and avoid an unpleasant encounter.

[Iwata Kayako]

Kayako could feel the sense of relief that accompanied Nana’s smile. She must have thought I’d never show...god, I feel so bad. And with the new evidence...I don’t want to even tell her, but I know she’d never forgive me for hiding evidence from her. She’d find out even without me telling her. Kayako nodded, picking up the bottle and bringing it to the counter to order another for Nana, and one for herself. Just one will be okay.

When she turned back to Nana, the table was straightened up and Nana looked frosty as usual, business-sharp and ready to go. She sat the drinks down and took a sip of hers as Nana asked the obvious question. It was hard to admit that the majority of the delay had been nothing more than distraction, but she shrugged with a sheepish grin. “Somebody left half-labeled evidence in the evidence room and things just spiraled off from there.”

She rubbed her face in her hands and rested her chin on them. “All from these new cases. You know, Ninomiya-san...I never used to watch much news. It never really hit me that I’d be dealing with, you know, this.”

What she meant more than anything was the apathy mixed with frustration and unease and utter, total, despair. It seeped through everyone’s courteous smiles and water cooler talk. It choked every excursion to a new crime scene. It hung overhead in the antiseptic glow of the lab lights when she and a handful of determined techs stayed late to mull over questions with no answers. Those feelings didn’t hamper her much anymore--she felt them too.

The clarity of the warmth she could feel in Nana’s smile was a surprise that Kayako appreciated more than anything, given the whole situation. She nodded sheepishly. If anyone knew about burnout, it was probably Nana.

Of course, it didn’t last long.

Her own attention had been caught by the opening of the door, and she felt a wave of annoyance from Nana’s side of the table. The easygoing aura of the reporter didn’t put Kayako any more at ease. Isn’t that...Nanase-san? I think it is. She has freckles? She hoped that everyone could just stick to their places in the bar and that Nanase-san would give Nana a wide berth.

She moved her hand to block her mouth from the side and leaned in, hoping to keep her words out of earshot of their unexpected company in the rather quiet bar. “Yeah, about that...we’ve noticed something really weird in some of the new cases. Something was able to cut down to victims’ bones, but...we have no tool marks. The wounds are devoid of any of the usual striations we should see in a stab or cut. We can tell they’re from a smooth blade, but there isn’t a knife in the world that should be able to leave marks like that, Ninomiya-san…”

It was hard to hide how nervous this new evidence had made her. It was beyond anything she could comprehend. She looked at Nana, feeling stumped and defeated.