Chapter 57
“…In conclusion, that’s what happened tonight.”
In the heated car, An’an held the hot cocoa that Hiromitsu had brought in a thermos and took a sip.
It was so sweet it was almost bitter. She pressed her lips together and set the thermos aside.
Hiromitsu glanced at the hot cocoa, which the girl had put down after just one sip, and felt a pang of worry.
It’s over. She’s not even drinking her favorite sweet drink. This is a big problem!
Oh Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Hiromitsu muttered to himself. Zero, Zero, why are you Bourbon?
Mentor Scotch had long since warned Bourbon: Divine punishment awaits those who deceive an innocent girl’s sincere feelings.
Zero hadn’t seen through his disguise and the sincerity beneath his warning, thinking it was the distillery’s body double deliberately trying to sow discord and ruin his relationship. Hiromitsu had wanted to speak up several times, but in the end, he could only silently bless his friend and pray for his safety.
Shikashi, this was the world of Conan. The age of theology had long since passed.
Hiromitsu’s blessings could not protect Furuya Rei, let alone himself.
“Scotch, do you know Bourbon?”
If he had a choice, Hiromitsu would not have called An’an’s call a midnight horror, but his heart had really stopped at that moment.
“I do,” Hiromitsu said, trying his best to remain calm. “Bourbon is an intelligence operative in the organization, a secretive person. We’ve been on a mission together—the cruise ship, remember, An’an?”
One of An’an’s questions was answered. So that was why she kept running into Amuro everywhere. It turned out he had really been on the cruise ship for work.
“A secretive person,” the dark-haired girl repeated. “He’s indeed very good at keeping secrets.”
The skill of keeping his girlfriend in the dark is truly remarkable—ah, I almost forgot. I’m his ex-girlfriend now.
A storm cloud hung over the girl’s head. Hiromitsu was so guilty he didn’t dare to look at her.
This is terrible, the undercover Public Security officer thought sorrowfully. What kind of chain scam is this?
In the past, everyone had despised Rye, calling him the number one scumbag of the distillery.
At that time, Bourbon had not spoken up for him.
Now, the tables had turned. The undercover Public Security officer finally understood the undercover FBI agent and deeply empathized with him.
‘I shouldn’t be in the car, I should be under the car,’ Hiromitsu thought silently. He was just a pitiful person who had been dead for four years. Why did the “whiskies stick together” principle still hold him so tightly?
There was some metaphysics in the distillery’s codenames. Since the new Scotch Whisky had inherited the past codename, he couldn’t escape the price of joint liability.
Right now, anyone could see that An’an needed comforting. Hiromitsu really wanted to do something for her, but for a moment, he didn’t know where to start.
Verbal comfort?
Was Hiromitsu supposed to say, “An’an, you’ve misunderstood Zero. He definitely doesn’t dislike you, and he’s not deliberately deceiving you—an undercover Public Security officer deceives everyone equally. Your Silver-Haired Model Bro, who has suffered so much from moles, should understand.”
Hiromitsu didn’t even have to think to know the reason for Zero’s breakup. It was most likely because he was worried about dragging an innocent girl into the struggle between red and black and wanted her to live a normal life in the sun.
Furuya Rei’s heart was in the right place, but Hiromitsu had to say, he looked at his girlfriend through a filter, a kind of blind beauty.
If Bourbon had known that the shocking “Gin reported Gin!” incident had been orchestrated by Fan An, he would have understood that she was already a player in the game.
The total attacks launched by all the undercover agents in the distillery, past and present, on Gin were not as black as Fan An’s move, which had caused Gin great psychological damage.
Hiromitsu, who saw through everything: He still loves her, she still loves him. Why did you two have to break up?
The answer was simple. Because:
Furuya Rei didn’t know that An’an had revived Hiromitsu.
An’an didn’t know that Furuya Rei and the Hiromitsu she had revived were both undercover Public Security officers.
Hiromitsu knew everything, but he couldn’t say anything.
The three of them had formed a vicious circle.
Being an undercover agent and having an ability were both personal secrets. Furuya and An’an were both important friends to Hiromitsu. He couldn’t leak their secrets without their permission.
This led to: Furuya thinking that An’an was an ordinary person and couldn’t be told about his undercover work; An’an thinking that Amuro was an outsider and there was no need to tell him about her ability.
The two of them were immersed in their own logic, unable to extricate themselves.
Hiromitsu praised drily, How is this not a kind of couple’s resemblance?
Now that An’an knew Bourbon’s identity, that he was in a group with Silver-Haired Model Bro and Sunglasses Bodyguard Bro, could Hiromitsu suggest that she tell Furuya the secret of her ability?
The answer was no, because they had broken up.
Who would tell their ex-boyfriend the secret of their ability? Don’t even think about it!
Hiromitsu: This is too hard for me.jpg
Hiromitsu: She’s not wrong, and he’s not wrong—I get it. It’s my fault.
When a couple doesn’t get along, it’s often because their mutual friend is useless. Mentor Scotch proactively took the blame.
Don’t forget, in the beginning, it was Hiromitsu who had suggested that An’an rent the apartment next to Furuya.
He was to blame for this ill-fated relationship.
The source of all evil is me. Hiromitsu’s guilt exploded.
Pale words of comfort were not enough to make it up to An’an. He had to do more.
“The bedroom I used to live in, is it still there, An’an?” he asked.
“It’s still there,” An’an replied. “After all, the apartment has two bedrooms, and I live alone.”
“That’s good,” Hiromitsu said, turning the steering wheel. “Can I move back in?”
An’an: “Eh?”
“Isn’t Hiro living in the distillery’s employee dorms now?” she asked, puzzled. “Won’t you be suspected if you move out?”
“It’s fine,” Hiromitsu said. “If Bourbon can live at the Trojan Horse Apartments, so can Scotch.”
“Just in case, I’ll just change my skin again,” he thought for a moment. “I remember I still have another identity… An’an’s distant cousin?”
This was how the girl had introduced him to Morofushi Taka’aki. His brother, who was far away in Nagano, could vouch for this relationship.
A distant cousin coming to Beika to rely on his cousin, temporarily staying at her home and taking care of her. It was perfectly reasonable.
An’an thought about it for a while.
She was already very skilled at using her ability to change her mentor’s skin. It was easy to create a new face with the features of the Fan family.
The Fan family was a renowned big family. She had many relatives, including those who liked to claim kinship with everyone and those who were professional forgers. Not to mention establishing the identity of a distant cousin, adding a name to the family tree was a piece of cake.
As for living with Hiro, it wasn’t the first time.
Before Scotch Whisky had returned to the Black Organization, An’an and Hiromitsu had lived together for a period of time. He was a very good roommate, good at both housework and cooking. Her gentle, good mama.
Oh, right. She and Amuro had broken up. She could no longer righteously go next door to mooch off his food.
During their relationship, An’an, if not completely spoiled, had at least been very well taken care of. To be suddenly thrown back into a situation of living alone, she didn’t know how severe the withdrawal symptoms would be.
“When we used to chat, An’an always praised Bourbon’s cooking,” Hiromitsu smiled. “He’s not that good.”
When it came to cooking, he was the one who had taught him.
“Don’t be sad,” Hiromitsu said, ruffling the girl’s head. “You still have me.”
An’an took a big gulp of hot cocoa. This time, she tasted the silky sweetness of chocolate. “Mhm!”
As expected of her respected Mentor Scotch. Super yasashii. Much more reliable than Bourbon!
A smile finally returned to the girl’s face. She excitedly began to mold Hiromitsu’s face, and the dark-haired young man obediently let her do as she pleased.
“An’an must have been working very hard on the set these past few days,” Hiromitsu thought. “I’m not busy lately. How about I take you out to have some fun?”
A sniper’s movements are secretive. He occasionally saw some little-known scenery during his missions, which was very suitable for relaxing.
“I want to see the plum blossoms,” An’an said, opening a guide she had saved on her phone. “They’re especially beautiful in winter. I heard that if you pick some and put them in a vase, they’ll be fragrant for a long time.”
She had saved this guide for a long time but had never had the time to go.
“After all, both of our work is very busy. It’s hard to find a day off together.”
The dark-haired girl’s fingers unconsciously slid across the screen. “The day after tomorrow is finally… no, it’s nothing.”
Her voice faded into a mumble. Hiromitsu couldn’t bear to listen anymore.
“The day after tomorrow is perfect,” he said in a gentle voice. “I’m free the day after tomorrow.”
An’an: Yay!
Hiromitsu moved in that night.
He: Although I don’t think An’an is so sad that she would do something stupid, what if she gets emo in the middle of the night?
Being neighbors with an ex-boyfriend makes it too easy to be reminded of the past. The first thing Hiromitsu did after moving in was to lock the balcony door.
The second thing was to retake control of the kitchen.
Hiromitsu opened the refrigerator. It was so empty it couldn’t even support a single mouse.
An’an’s home had very few snacks. It was clear that it was a trick by the blond Public Security officer to lure the girl next door every day.
Hiromitsu both despised his friend’s little tricks and couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
A sudden breakup doesn’t just torture one person. Furuya’s apartment was the one that was full of things that would remind him of the past. The traces An’an had left there were too many to clean up.
If only they could clear up the misunderstanding…
“Should we bring some snacks to enjoy with the plum blossoms?”
Hiromitsu temporarily suppressed the thoughts in his heart. The most urgent task was to cheer up the girl. “I know a very sweet plum wine.”
Bourbon is bad, plum wine is good. An’an would never drink Bourbon whisky again.
…
On the third day of the breakup, the dark-haired girl set off to see the plum blossoms.
The scenic spot was in a remote location. She and Hiromitsu had deliberately woken up early to drive there.
A white Mazda and a car with black-tinted windows brushed past each other at a crossroads.
The Mazda parked in the apartment parking lot. Furuya Rei pushed open the car door and checked his schedule on his phone.
Today’s schedule reminder was [Plum Blossom Viewing].
The blond young man’s footsteps paused.
He remembered now. An’an had wanted to go see the plum blossoms a long time ago. She had collected over a dozen guides and had been counting the days they both had off on her fingers.
“You absolutely cannot go to work overtime halfway through,” the girl had repeatedly reminded him. “I will really tie you up with a rope.”
They had promised to see the winter plum blossoms together, eat plum-flavored snacks, and pick branches full of flower buds to take home and put in a vase.
Such a solemn promise was no longer valid.
Furuya stood at the apartment door and took out his key to open it.
A few lemon candies were scattered in the entryway. It was a brand An’an had recommended. Sucking on one in the morning was refreshing.
A suspicious black hat was hanging on the coat rack. It was someone’s beloved winter-survival artifact, a robber’s mask.
On the coffee table was an unfinished bag of chips with a handwritten sticky note on it: New flavor, super delicious. I left so much for you. I’m so generous, right?!
Furuya picked up the chip bag and tasted one.
As expected, it had a strange, indescribable taste—she only left the flavors she didn’t like. A very, very bad person.
The traces a person leaves in a room. How long does it take to clean them up?
It would probably be quick if he hardened his heart, but Furuya couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He finished the bag of strange-flavored chips and lay back on the sofa, his mind blank.
A day off. So idle.
Was there any work that needed to be dealt with urgently? Public Security or Black Organization, either was fine.
…No. He had dealt with everything in advance to free up today.
“I’ll go to Poirot,” Furuya said to himself.
The café was always short-staffed. Even if he had to face his colleague’s question, “Eh, Mr. Amuro, didn’t you take the day off today?”, it was better than staying at home and wasting time.
Furuya changed his clothes and went out. As he turned to close the door, his gaze unconsciously shifted to the closed door next door.
An’an… is she resting at home?
Don’t think about it, Furuya warned himself. That’s no longer your business to ask.
The undercover Public Security officer’s mind was very clear, but when his thoughts wandered, he couldn’t help but wonder: if one day, the Black Organization was no longer a threat, and his undercover mission was completely over, and he confessed everything, would he be able to get a second glance from the girl?
At that time, would she still like him?
The fact that An’an wasn’t planning on moving was the best news. Furuya had happened to see the girl at the supermarket yesterday, her shopping cart piled high with fruits, vegetables, rice, and noodles.
That’s right. After breaking up, they couldn’t eat together anymore.
Furuya went to Café Poirot absent-mindedly. He immersed himself in his busy work and only stopped at closing time, making two sandwiches to take home for dinner.
“Is Mr. Amuro’s dinner just a sandwich?” Azusa, who was about to get off work, asked curiously. “That’s rare. Don’t you usually cook at home?”
“I just wanted to be lazy for once,” Furuya said, placing the washed plates on the dish rack. “If I accidentally make too much, I can’t finish it all by myself.”
“Is it that hard to control the portion for one person?” Azusa asked, not understanding. She remembered that Amuro lived alone.
“It’s quite hard,” Furuya said, taking off his apron and putting it away. He said softly, “I don’t think I’ll be able to learn for a while.”
The lights at Café Poirot went out. Furuya walked home alone.
A cold wind blew through the streets, carrying a faint scent of plum blossoms.
Speaking of which, a few of the customers who had come to the shop today also had the scent of plum blossoms on their clothes. It seemed that many people were enjoying the plum blossoms in winter.
An intoxicating floral scent. The fragrance was rich, and the petals falling in one’s hair could leave a lasting scent.
Wherever you go, you leave a trace. Scent is also a major element in detective work. As Furuya let his mind wander, he stared at the ascending numbers on the elevator.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened. He stepped into the apartment corridor.
The scent of plum blossoms rushed to greet him.
A dark-haired girl, holding a large bouquet of plum branches, was in high spirits. She had one foot in the door and was closing it with her other hand as she said cheerfully, “Request! Add plum wine to tonight’s deluxe late-night snack set.”
“Request approved, but don’t be too greedy.”
A indulgent young male voice sounded from inside the apartment. A hand belonging to an adult man took the flower branches from the girl’s arms.
Bang.
The door closed.