Inside the hotel room, the can clinked abruptly against the table as Shira set it down. Her phone screen blinked with a notification. The frown on her face colored with surprise at the sender.
"…You've gotta be kidding me… That idiot's alive."
She opened the message, short, with image attached.
'Renji: I'm here… I got the camera. ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ'
…Unbelievable… still, this is a better outcome…
For a heartbeat, she just stared at it. Then a crooked smirk tugged at her lips. After typing back and forth with him, she tapped another contact. The line clicked immediately.
"Jin, it's me."
"Miss Shira, how's it looking? I've contacted our men around here—we can move in anytime."
"Hold it off."
"…May I ask why?"
"…That guy's alive. And he got the camera."
"—Ha? You serious?"
"Surprised, hmm?"
"Damn right! You're saying he slipped into the main warehouse, got the thing, and didn't get caught under those alerted patrols?"
"As much as I am confused, it looks like he did just that."
"Could've been the enemies using his phone as bait?"
"No, I don't think so."
"… Gh, I'm still not convinced… but, anyway. What's next? That dumb kid still stuck on that port all the same."
Shira leaned back to the wall, eyes narrowing at the ceiling. "… Jin… You said we have an actual active shipping schedule at Newport, right?"
"Yeah, electric company consignment on KHX schedule. You wanna use that as cover?"
"Hmm… To be honest I'd rather avoid dragging KHX's name as much as possible… But we don't have time to forge other company front either. So, fine. Prepare the manifests and any other related paper works for that shipment, plus customs audit IDs for us—ask one from our connection at the Tokyo branch. We'll go in as 'special auditors.'"
"Disguise job, huh?"
"Borrow one of their audit cars too, we'll need to move around to the warehouse 5 after all."
"I see… Guess it could work if all we do is extraction."
"Exactly. And we'll stay clear of Nakai's containers—no need to spook him."
"…That kid's a damn headache."
Shira allowed herself a small laugh. "Well… At least he brought the camera along with him. Anyway, that's all. Prepare it ASAP, I'd like it that we can get inside Newport around 9-10 pm tonight."
"Copy that."
The line went dead. Shira tossed the phone onto the bed, then let herself fall beside it.
The room smelled faintly of coffee and cold air. Her eyes lingered on nothing—still replaying their earlier infiltration—until her thoughts began to blur into the rhythm of her slow breathing.
…Renji Tohara… huh…
--------
The sedan moved along the causeway above the sea, the emblem of Japan Customs officer painted on each side reflected by the streetlamp. Jin's hands were steady on the wheel, both him and Shira wearing neat uniforms, navy jacket, government issue—a thin white stripe ran along the trousers, complete with a cap that sat low on their brows, shadowing their face.
The gold insignia of Japan Customs gleaming with each light they passed. Beside the ID badge clipped to their breast pocket Shira read as 'Kawamura', and Jin read as 'Hashimoto'—Tokyo Audit Division.
Jin hit the brake slowly, and stopped right in front of the securities who lifted their flashlights at them. Shira walked out of the car, greeted them and handed the papers and showed her ID. To anyone watching, they were just another pair of tired bureaucrats doing their rounds.
"…Hmm? Audit? I haven't heard anything about this?" One of the guards in dock uniform eyeing Shira in confusion.
"Well, that's why they called us special auditors team… we're from Tokyo branch, looking at the Electric cargo on KHX shipment at warehouse 3." Shira said smoothly with a plastic bureaucratic smile.
"… 10 pm? this is an odd hour to do an inspection, no?" And the other guard chimed in after reporting this occurrence to the main command from their radio.
"Hehe, head office wants unannounced night verification this time around." Shira replied with a smile.
"…Oi, it's fine… one of the custom officers inside confirm that Tokyo branch did send a team, let them in." The tired guard patted his friend shoulder and relayed the messages after got a call from someone.
Securing the clearance and stamp, Shira bowed politely and walk back to the car.
They resume their drive, and from the front gate, the real problematic warehouse 1 is the first they see.
"Finally tightened the guard around there." Shira smirked.
"Seems like they're in weird spot too, something like, 'we better doubled up before our client notices anything' heh." Jin laughs at the guard attempt to fix their lazy work yesterday.
They quickly drive past it, not closing in to warehouse 1 or 2 at all, straight to the second platform where warehouse 3,4,5 sits.
Along the way, they did see the familiar red containers from yesterday being moved.
Shira felt the tailing presence as the sedan threaded the concrete—a group of men that trying to play it subtle by driving a pick-up van as dock workers lurking around. She glanced at Jin. He replied with a grin.
"They decided to move it all into one place, while watching us, Jin."
"Not surprised, they tried to make sure we're not nearing anything 'Hisoka Pharma'."
"… Park behind warehouse 5," Shira said simply. Her voice was soft but final. "By the bins. I'll find Renji. You handle the inspection routine and keep whoever following occupied."
"Copy." He turned the wheel and eased the sedan into the lane, the headlights cutting white paths through stacked containers. They slid to rest behind a low wall where the garbage bins crouched like tombstones.
They both got out from the car while acting like a real customs officer, making sure the coast is clear, Shira slips away to the dumpster, and began knocking on the metal wall of garbage bin around where Renji is supposed to be.
—Three light taps, a pause, one repeat— and by the second bin she knocked, the reply came from the furthest spot away from her in the corner, four weak knocks.
"Hmm…" Shira closes in, and said without looking at it. "Renji."
"… I'm here…" Came the voice of an exhausted man.
"Come out quickly." Then she glances at his direction.
A face, blanched and wired, peeked through the gap between bagged refuse and rust. Renji's eyes were like a dumped kitten, wild with cold and something like relief.
"… You see that sedan with Government emblem on it? The car's unlocked, go inside after I give you the signal, okay?"
"Okie dokie…"
Shira walked away, then at the corner of the building, making sure the perimeter, she gave away a hand signal, and Renji scuttered to the car. After hearing the sound of car door being shut quietly, Shira left the spot, and regrouping with Jin who is acting like a true dedicated, and meticulous customs officer.
"Jin, he's in the car, we're done here."
"Copy that."
Resuming their final act of play, Shira and Jin circling the warehouse once, nodding at nothing, then decided to call it a day. And as they entered the car—
"The hell?? It stinks here!" Jin was the first one to back off, instantly pinching his nose.
"...Sorry...." The answer came from the culprit, but Shira and Jin didn't find anyone sitting on the backseat.
Shira too, cover her nose with her hand, reluctantly getting in and sit inside.
"… I thought… at least the smell wouldn't be as bad if I'm on the trunk… but… sorry…" Renji replied with muffled sound passing through the car cabin.
"Tch"
"Well, let's just go, Jin."
The car eased away from the port, until they reached the city, Jin lowered the windshield and let out a nonstop barrage of frustrated complain to Renji who kept apologizing, and Shira just sitting with a wry smile as she still covering her nose with a tissue.
--------
"Haaah… what a day... Well Jin, I'll handle the rest."
Shira stepped out first, the hotel sign's glow bathing them in a faint white and blue light. The cold night air hit her, tainted by a stench that clung stubbornly to her clothes and hair.
"Damn! This car reeks of garbage," Jin muttered, grimacing as he opened the driver's windshield wider. "We can't return it like this—they'll throw a fit."
"Send it for deep cleaning or whatever. Bill me later," Shira said with a tired smile.
The trunk clicked open. Renji climbed out like a man rose from the grave, hugging the x-ray camera and its battery bag like it was part of him. He stood a few steps away, avoiding both of them, since he was the ground zero.
"Anyway, good work Jin. Take a break."
Jin nodded, muttered something inaudible, and drove off. Shira turned to Renji. The sight was tragicomic—hair a mess, clothes crusted with filth, smelling like an open landfill. And her eyes caught something moving.
"…Oi… There's a cockroach on your shoulder."
"...Oh…" Renji reached up calmly, plucked it off, and flicked it away like it was nothing. Yet looking at it with weirdly deep expression.
Sayonara, my friend…
--------
Their short walk to the hotel room earned a confused look from every staff member they passed, then discreetly covered their noses.
By the time they reached their room and shut the door. Shira said with unbearable look.
"You first. Straight to the bathroom."
"On it, ma'am…"
Renji shuffled inside, setting the camera and bag down on the tile bathroom floor. He stared at his reflection—shirt, trousers, coat, shoes—all uniformly coated in a grayish film of decay.
"…Looks like I've got a lot of cleaning to do…"
He spent almost 2 hours inside that felt like a time loop, scrubbing his body thoroughly over and over, washed every inch of fabric he could salvage, and meticulously wiped down his gear—the camera, phone, wallet, notebook—anything that couldn't go into the machine.
By the time he was done, steam clouded the mirror. He wore the hotel bathrobe, exhaustion etched deep under his eyes, while he sniffed himself cautiously.
"Okay… nothing smelly anymore… On my body, at least…"
He slid the door open. Noticing Shira stood, leaning at the balcony railing, still in her bureaucrat disguise, busy with her phone in hand.
"Miss Shira, I'm done."
As she walked past him and into the bathroom. The faint trail of garbage odor lingered as she passed.
Oops, guess it got into her clothes too…
Renji winced, guilt gnawing at him.
"Took your sweet time, huh?"
"That's just how much I've been defiled…" he said, trying to make it sound like a joke.
"Anyway, there's bread on the table, and grab whatever drink you like from the fridge."
She answered with a single, heavy sigh and shut the door.
Renji sat on the edge of the bed, took and opened the bread plastic wrap, and ate it slowly at first. Then hunger took over, and he began devouring it. When a chunk caught in his throat, he grabbed a water bottle, twisted it open, and drained it in one go.
"Damn… I'm alive again…"
After that, pulling out his duffel. He began wiping down his belongings with perfumed tissue, but when he noticed his notebook soaked with what looked like garbage juice, he gave up.
"Yep… gonna need a new one for sure."
--------
When Shira finally emerged, Renji still occupied with cleaning his stuff. Until the soft pat of her bare feet stopped as she sits in her own bed across his, only then, he looked up.
"......"
His brain can't quite catch up with what he sees yet, he stares at her eyes, then down, then back up to her face that stares back at him seriously with a pensive expression.
Renji blinked. Once. Then again, slower.
"Why so surprised? Did you expect something else under the suit?"
"N-No!! W-W-Why are you—? dressed like that??"
Shira comes out of the bathroom, not fully dressed, unlike before where she showed no openings, instead he saw skin, lots of it, sitting casually in front of him.
Her hair was still damp, a white towel draped across her collarbone, barely brushing the top of her breasts covering just enough to leave everything else to the imagination. Below, black panties clung to her hips, sharp against pale skin.
Her frame was nothing like what her business suit suggested. In uniform, Shira looked genderless in the way that made men second-guess their attraction and women shrink under her presence.
But like this, she was something else entirely.
Slender, yes—but not frail. Her arms, exposed now, revealed toned biceps and triceps—not bulky, just tight under the skin, like a dancer's strength hidden under poise. Her stomach had a faint line of definition, subtle abs tracing a whisper along her midsection.
She had a body that could fight. But also a body that knew softness. That held warmth. That could be touched, yet whatever thought swam inside Renji's head, Shira didn't seem to bothered.
"Washed my clothes too, it reeks."
"Didn't you bring spare clothes??" Renji pointed at her bag beside her bed.
"I forgot to bring it in, I'll wear it later."
"—The-Then wear a damn bathrobe!"
"You wore the last one."
Renji looked down at himself. "…Oh."
Silence hung awkwardly for a beat before Shira crossed her legs, eyes locking on him with cool indifference. "Renji. Explain yourself."
"…H-huh?"
"Why did you do that?"
Uhh… yeah… it comes to this point eventually, huh…
The sight of Shira's provocative appearance suddenly not registering to his brain anymore. He just sits there, head hung, staring at his feet.
"Answer me seriously, you can do that much at least, no?"
Shira pushed, and waits patiently, but not one with relaxed air. While Renji seemingly swam in his thought–then he slowly opens his mouth.
"… I hate being used without knowing. But I hate it more when people get in trouble because of me."
"Didn't know that you had that kind of superhero wannabe complex—" Shira let out an unimpressed sigh. "—That's selfish."
"… I know that."
"The decision you took could've compromised everything."
"… I see…"
"If it were just the camera that got found, sure, they can track it down given time. But I have a lot of ways to brush it off. Yet you. Total amateur suddenly decided to run back to the alerted enemy's territory, based on whatever self-pleasing act. You know that, if they catch you along with the camera, this would've been a disaster. Worse, Miss Reika would've known. Did you forget I told you she can't know what happened here?"
"…Yeah. I remember."
He stared at the floor entire time, fingers gripping the edge of the bed. His voice trembled—not from fear, but something more fragile.
It's not like… that I wanted to be hero…
"…I just… wanted to fix my own mistake, you know? My whole life I'm a screw-up, I've never been able to fix anything. I didn't want to run again."
Her expression softened just a fraction.
"—I'm sorry, Miss Shira."
She studied him quietly, then asked with a smirk. "So, how do you feel now?"
"…Like garbage," he muttered with a weak laugh. "Guess that's fitting."
"Do you always decide things like this?"
"…Honestly? No… I… used to sit the problems out… That's why I'm surprised about what I just did myself… guess I'm just that tired living like loser the whole time."
"Hmm, it's the worst feeling, when things end badly because of your own hand. I get it."
"…Happened to you too? Miss Shira?"
"Happened to everyone, I'd say—well," she said, stretching her arms overhead, "you did bring the camera back. Whether it was luck or their incompetence, I'll take it. Better than the alternative."
Then she stood up, reached out and knocked Renji's head with the back of her hand as a closure.
"Get some sleep. The meetings at 11, we leave at 9 in the morning."
Renji lifts his head slowly, turns and look at the digital clock on the desk beside him.
'26 December. 1.18 am.'
"Yeah. I'm wrecked."
He looked at her again—just in time to see her leaned over the x-ray camera on the floor, back half-turned toward him, the curve of her toned shoulder blade moved under the light like sculpture, the towel slipping just enough to tease, never fall.
Shira watched him from the corner of her eyes, smiled faintly as Renji tries his best to look elsewhere.
"You look like you've never seen a woman before."
"N-not like that," he stuttered, feeling the heat back to his face. "I mean—not like… this."
"Relax," she said softly. "I'm not a girl anymore."
"… And I'm a man too, dammit…"
"Hmm, sure… Boy."
"Tch…"
Her laugh was soft but real this time. She pulled a shirt from her bag, slipped it over her shoulders, and sat down at her laptop. Within moments, the sound of keys tapping filled the room.
Renji laid back, the rhythmic clicking easing him into half-consciousness, soon to his sleep.
By the time his eyes opened, dawn was already crawling through the curtains.
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