Chapter 54
A person must ultimately pay the price for their crimes.
Suspect An had broken in first and taken liberties second. Her evil deeds were witnessed by heaven and earth. It was only natural that she should be punished.
“It’s almost dawn. In broad daylight, this isn’t good.”
The dark-haired girl tried to appeal to reason and emotion to escape punishment. “More importantly, the hallway is full of paparazzi. This scene is a little too exciting.”
She was lying. Amuro Tooru’s lips curved into a half-smile.
No matter how exciting the things they did at home were, it couldn’t possibly compare to An’an’s Plan A:
A famous actress publicly walks out of her neighbor’s house in the morning. The paparazzi crowding the hallway, their eyes shining so brightly they could shoot lasers—<Shocking! Famous Actress Suspected of Spending the Night at an Ordinary Man’s Home, Only Leaving Hastily in the Morning>—accompanied by a photo of Suspect An, wearing a black robber’s mask, a black bar censoring her eyes.
An’an would once again set a new record, single-handedly bagging the explosive headlines of the crime section, the entertainment section, and the social news section, shocking the entertainment industry.
Her life was filled with blood and storms. A few paparazzi eavesdropping at the door were merely at the level of bumper cars.
“Not in the living room. How about we go to my room?” Amuro asked.
He lowered his head, his forehead touching An’an’s. His blond hair brushed against her eyelashes, tickling her.
The girl’s eyes darted left and right, but her hands were very honest, maintaining a pushing posture, yet not applying any force at all.
To say she hadn’t anticipated this development at all would be impossible.
The food reserves at An’an’s house had indeed been depleted. But since she could climb over the balcony to invade her neighbor’s home, wouldn’t it have been easier to pass a bento box over the balcony?
Whether it was calling for help, tapping out SOS in Morse code on the wall, or sending a message with a hand-made drone, there were plenty of ways. Why had it come to the point of breaking and entering?
She had simply wanted to come and find him.
It would have been fine to break through the paparazzi’s encirclement and go on a date. Being trapped at home together was also good.
It was a day off, after all. A little mischief wouldn’t hurt, right?
They had been dating for almost half a year, from summer to winter. Wasn’t it time to take their relationship to the next level?
An’an’s mind was a mess of thoughts, but her actions were not hesitant at all.
It had taken her a total of five minutes from changing her clothes to climbing over the balcony. The Spider-Man of Spider-Men, the Romeo of Romeos.
Romeo landed on the balcony. Before she could think of an opening line, the blond Juliet swiped open the curtains.
An’an’s first reaction was, Thank goodness it’s not light out yet.
How could he open the curtains without being properly dressed? What if there was a criminal outside the window?!
The shirt looked like it had been hastily thrown on. Half-covered was worse than not wearing anything at all. Honestly, was this a deliberate seduction?
He had opened the balcony door and let her in without even asking the outlaw’s intentions. The few buttons could have been easily fastened, but he had let his shirt hang open as if he were completely unaware.
This person is too cunning, An’an thought gravely. Not as sincere as she is.
Undeniably, compared to the generously dressed blond Public Security officer, the girl’s attire was very proper.
In the freezing winter, she wore her winter-survival artifact on her head and a long down jacket, wrapping herself tightly in thick clothes.
If it weren’t for the powerful buff of the robber’s mask, this would have been a simple and unadorned outfit that could have seamlessly blended into the background, a passerby of the world.
“Aren’t you hot?”
Amuro’s thumb touched the girl’s flushed cheek. The heating in the room was on full blast. She looked like she was about to sweat.
“I am,” An’an said in a small voice. “Help me with the zipper.”
Amuro raised his hand. The zipper of the down jacket separated, one tooth at a time. The stuffy heat made the white peach scent on the girl’s body even more fragrant, like a ripe fruit about to fall from the branch.
She was only wearing a slip dress under the down jacket.
The snow-white cotton fabric clung to her slightly pink skin, the ruffled hem curling up.
It was not at all an outfit for going out. Plan A was a complete and utter lie.
“It’s the heating’s fault,” An’an argued. “It’s cold outside. There’s no need to take off the down jacket.”
A working person is glamorous on the outside, but on the inside, they can wear any kind of mismatched outfit. This is fashion!
Amuro listened to her argue for a long time before slowly speaking, his fingertip tracing the butterfly on the neckline of her slip dress. “Did you buy this specially?”
An’an: “…Of course not.”
Some things are difficult to hide, whether from a boyfriend or a neighbor. Amuro Tooru could identify the shade of her lipstick, and he could also recognize which clothes she wore often.
“When did you buy it? I didn’t even know.”
The blond young man’s dry lips landed on the butterfly’s wing. He looked up, his gaze traveling up to meet An’an’s.
From this downward angle, his Adam’s apple was particularly prominent.
The girl couldn’t help but reach out and touch it.
An’an had touched too many places she shouldn’t have today. She had brought some of this on herself.
The blankets in the bedroom had been aired out in the sun not long ago, making them soft and fluffy. And because their owner had been using them for a few days, they were steeped in his scent.
It was as if she were being enveloped by the scent, and also like a struggle for mutual possession.
An’an’s stamina was very good. She had always been very proud of this, until today, when she suddenly discovered the downside of having too much stamina.
…Her stamina was too good, so it was impossible to end.
She tried to pretend to be tired and fall asleep, but he saw through her easily. Did a detective’s talent really have to be used in such a situation?
So exhausting… Although it wasn’t unpleasant, she still regretted it a little. She shouldn’t have been so outrageously provocative.
Amuro Tooru gently wiped away the tear that had welled up at the corner of the dark-haired girl’s eye.
He still remembered that An’an had once said her tear threshold was very high, that she would only cry physiological tears.
“So beautiful,” the blond young man praised softly.
The girl mumbled something. Amuro couldn’t hear it clearly, but judging by her expression, she was probably complaining about humanity’s strange kinks.
It wasn’t strange at all. She had no idea how beautiful she was.
As a boyfriend, Amuro had always been very considerate. His lover, who lived next door, often came over to play, so the supply of snacks and desserts was never cut off.
It was a little too indulgent. Occasionally, An’an would eat too many snacks and have no appetite for a proper meal, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Now, however, it was a happy turn of events. There was no time to make a proper meal, but snacks were enough to fill their stomachs—what was that? A sudden craving for a complex, time-consuming dish?
Okay. He would make anything for her. But they would have to wait until tomorrow.
Today?
Today, there would be no halftime break.
…
Humanity, after all, has its limits. An’an had an epiphany.
Her stamina was more than enough for an eight-hour workday, but a full day of labor was still too much to ask of a person.
Next time, she begged, please don’t just silently ramp up the intensity on her.
“But An’an still looks so full of energy,” Amuro Tooru said as he walked into the room, the drink can in his hand playfully pressing against the girl’s cheek.
It was her favorite orange soda, just taken from the fridge, perfect for drinking indoors with the heating on full blast in winter.
The girl shot him a grumpy glare. The blond young man smiled placatingly. He popped the tab, inserted a straw, and held the orange soda to An’an’s lips.
An’an, too tired to even move, bit the straw and inhaled like a storm. The cool orange soda was icy and sweet, dispelling the stuffy heat in the room.
“What time is it?” She had completely lost track of time. She only remembered it was dark when she came, and it was still dark now.
“It’s evening,” Amuro replied. “Beika Town fell into night about two hours ago.”
The hallway outside was already silent.
The nights in Beika Town were not a place where one could survive on willpower alone. Any out-of-towner would be beaten down here, paying a painful price for their underestimation of the City of Crime.
To think of leaving surveillance equipment in the hallway was also a fantasy. Amuro Tooru had mercilessly cleaned it all up.
The paparazzi had been able to get in today because An’an’s new drama had exploded in popularity too suddenly. The paparazzi, relying on the safety of the crowd, had ignored the apartment manager’s warnings.
The same mistake would never happen again. The only result of trespassing on private property was detention, and a “hello” to Inspector Megure.
Any other city’s police department might be short on jail cells, but Beika’s never would be.
This city was expanding its prisons every year, an expansion without end, vowing to catch every criminal that should be caught, to catch them all.
“Since the paparazzi are all gone, I should go home too,” An’an said.
She had never stayed the night at Amuro’s place. The two of them lived too close. There was never any reason like a traffic jam, rain, or a curfew that could lead to a natural sleepover.
And because of his work, Amuro had never taken the initiative to ask the girl to stay the night before.
The blond Public Security agent was certain the hallway was empty, yet what he said was, “There might still be people lying in ambush outside. It’s not safe to go out now.”
“If you were to climb back over the balcony…” the blond young man said with concern. “Does An’an still have the strength?”
His answer was a pillow thrown by his girlfriend, which landed with a soft, weightless thud.
“Stay,” Amuro Tooru smiled, leaning over to kiss her. “I want An’an to stay with me.”
So clingy. Now that he’d said it like that, how could she possibly leave?
The girl lay down with her back to him, took his hand, and placed it on her waist. “Just rub,” she said. “No hugging.”
The massage service was a good experience, but the waiter maliciously solicited a tip. An’an was so sleepy her eyelids were fighting. When he pulled her into his arms, she gave a token protest twice, then quickly buried herself in his chest and fell asleep, oblivious to the world.
The girl was nestled in his arms, sleeping soundly. Looking at An’an’s flushed, carefree face, Amuro found his own mood lightening, infected by her peace.
The cold winter was hard to bear, but when he could be with the person he loved, even frost and snow became symbols of romance.
The phone on the bedside table lit up.
The glaring white light broke the peaceful night. Amuro paused for a moment, then freed a hand to pick up the phone.
[Mission, immediately. —Gin]
A flicker of annoyance passed through his purple-gray eyes. Bourbon cursed under his breath.
Of all the times for a mission, why did it have to be tonight?
Reluctant as he was, the undercover Public Security agent couldn’t refuse a mission from the Black Organization. With movements as light as possible, Bourbon gently shifted the sleeping girl from his arms.
Afraid of waking her, Bourbon didn’t turn on the light. In the darkness, he slipped into his clothes and put on a black baseball cap.
The embrace that held her suddenly loosened, and the warmth pressed against her back began to recede. The sudden change in temperature made the soundly sleeping girl’s eyelashes flutter.
An’an groggily opened her eyes.
In her hazy vision, she saw the blond young man had changed into his outdoor clothes. The brim of a black baseball cap obscured his brow and eyes, and his entire demeanor seemed utterly unfamiliar.
Bourbon skillfully pulled open a hidden drawer. He took out his sidearm and, out of habit, checked the magazine.
The faint sound of the magazine being released wasn’t obvious. To someone unfamiliar with firearms, it would be difficult to discern.
An’an, however, happened to be extremely talented with firearms. At the same time, she had an exceptionally excellent mentor.
Why was there a gun hidden in her boyfriend’s home?
And what was he planning to do, taking a gun out in the middle of the night?