The Boy With The Blank Stare: Future

Chapter Twenty Nine: Carnage

Saihara's POV:

When I stepped into the car, a coffee was quickly forced into my hands as I held onto the cup desperate for anything to fight against the chills of the outside. The coffee smelled faintly of hazelnut, as I took some big sips trying to get as much energy as possible cursing myself for not taking the extra time I had to take a small nap beforehand. "Is he still in town?" I asked in between sips, my father nodded "lucky for us he seems to care more about his material possessions than his freedom" he answered in relief. 

"Do you think he will confess though? If he's gotten away with it for this long then clearly he knows how to handle the police at least a little bit" I brought up biting my lip nervously. "That also has the potential to make him cocky, and he was dealing with your Uncle, and I think we both can agree I'm not so easily swayed" my father retorted. His antagonism was clear though, but for who I couldn't tell anymore. Uncle...Uncle, why does it always have to go back to you? Is it wrong if I hope you didn't know anything about this...?  

The car approached the town hall parking right in front of the long staircase. The town hall was an old building and had the appearance of something almost churchlike with the cream-colored walls and the tall taunting structured. My father didn't even wait for me to follow him, and I realized only then he might not have even had on his seatbelt. 

Without skipping a beat I quickly followed after my father, running up the stairs two at a time as we slowly fell into a calm stroll into the building. No security guards tried to stop us as we entered the lavish building, even the usual security protocols seemed ignored as they nodded their heads to us in respect. It seemed all loyalty had long since disappeared as we entered the chambers. 

The carpet was a moldy green color in desperate need of cleaning, the walls matching the same dull creamed color covered with photographs of previous mayors and the town as it slowly developed into what was seen today. However if maybe arrogantly was also the large gold-framed photograph of a young man, the photo was black and white but seemed to be a stylistic rather than a technical choice as they wore a fitted suit in that very same office smiling at the camera as if trying to resemble an American president. Sitting in that same velvet chair, one that creaked with movement and seemed close to falling apart was that same man-but much much older. With balding grey hair and a more bloated physique, still in those same crisp suits was the mayor. He glanced at us with a slightly annoyed expression as he sighed leaning back in the chair.

"To what do I owe this unexpected visit, detective Saihara?" the mayor greeted with empty praise glancing in my direction. His eyes seemed to burrow into my soul, searching for anything to set me on edge. I took another deep breath through my nose, trying not to let him get his minor victory. But the way he smiled slightly at this reaction made me wonder if my avoidance ended up letting him win anyway.  "I'd like to pass on the pleasantries sir," I told him sternly, "we have a warrant for the investigation of this office, and we'd like to question you as well about the DICE case" my father quickly cut in, shooting me a warning look as I took a deep breath trying to regain control of my temper.

"An interrogation? Hasn't this been requested more than once already Meiji?" the mayor asked with a tired expression and even yawning a bit, "would you rather I arrest you right now then?" my father threatened. "With what crime though dear detective? It may come as a shock to you but I have committed no crime. All I've ever done was work hard for my city, work to help us overcome tragedy and misfortune time and time again. Though I do feel some remorse, how was I supposed to know that the story was wrong?" the mayor confessed with such an entitled voice, and even though he was smaller than my father he looked down on him in his eyes. He sat in his chair as if it was a throne, and as if he was the one interrogating and not the other way around.