Chapter 365: The Pitch-Black Mysterious Train 7
Ai Haibara's heartbeat, which had only just begun to settle into a steady rhythm, hitched. The air in her lungs vanished. The name Shikanoin Heizou had just casually dropped hung in the narrow corridor like a death sentence. She forced her breathing to remain even, desperately locking down her muscles to hide the primal terror surging through her veins. Yet, despite her absolute best efforts, the small hand currently enveloped in Heizou's grip betrayed a faint, uncontrollable tremor. "Brother Shikanoin..." she began, pitching her voice into a mask of childish confusion. "Who... who are you calling? I do not know anyone by that name. I am not any Sherry."
Heizou merely offered a faint, enigmatic smile. He did not bother to correct her or press the issue. Guiding her down the carpeted aisle of Car 6, they bypassed Room B entirely. Instead, he pivoted smoothly, twisting the brass handle of Room C and ushering her inside.
The private cabin was not empty. Lounging comfortably on the plush seating was the absolute last person Haibara ever expected to see on this train. Cointreau.
The Black Organization executive leaned back against the window frame, casually watching the blurred scenery streak past the glass. A relaxed, almost pleasant expression rested on his face as his thumbs tapped out a leisurely reply on his terminal. At the click of the latch, he shifted his attention. His gaze landed squarely on the stiff, frozen figure of the little girl standing in the doorway. "Sherry," Cointreau greeted, his voice smooth and conversational. "Long time no see."
"We parted ways less than an hour ago, Cointreau." Haibara swallowed the dry lump in her throat, forcing the words out with an icy, measured calm.
Seeing him sitting here, relaxed and waiting, shattered any remaining illusions she held. Her cover was completely blown. Cointreau had been present at the port; he knew exactly what she looked like now. Continuing the childish charade was pointless.
She snapped her gaze toward Heizou. The young detective had already clicked the cabin door shut, sealing them inside. Completely ignoring her defensive posture, he strolled over and dropped into the seat directly across from Cointreau, utterly unconcerned that she might attempt a desperate escape. Haibara crossed her arms, her knuckles turning white. "I did not expect you to have such a cozy relationship with the Teyvat Organization, Cointreau. Cozy enough to hand over my intelligence to them, at least."
She knew her own value perfectly well. Within the shadowy ranks of the Black Organization, she was the sole surviving mind capable of deciphering the complex, fragmented research data left behind by her parents. The Boss's paranoia was legendary. The organization would undoubtedly put a bullet between her eyes before ever allowing a rival syndicate to acquire her intellect.
Yet here they were. A core executive of the Black Organization sitting in perfect harmony with a known operative of the Teyvat Organization. The casual, familiar atmosphere between the two men spoke volumes. It painted a very clear, very dangerous picture. Cointreau was playing his own game, his loyalty to the Boss far from absolute.
Cointreau lowered his terminal, resting it on his knee. "There is really no helping it," he replied, offering a helpless, self-deprecating shrug. "I needed you to be obedient, Sherry, but I found myself entirely lacking in proper use to threaten you with. The members of the Teyvat Organization assured me they had a highly effective method, so I naturally had to let them join the game."
A cold sneer curled Haibara's lips. "Are you joking? You have known my true identity for quite some time. You know exactly how I have been living these past few months. If you truly wanted to threaten me, you have an endless supply of methods at your disposal."
She refused to buy a single word of his pathetic excuse. The crows of the organization never hesitated to spill innocent blood. If Cointreau genuinely wanted to force her hand, he only needed to point a gun at the Detective Boys. Those naive, foolishly brave children would be more than enough to break her.
Cointreau released a long, exaggerated sigh. "Please do not look at me as if I am some cold-blooded, ruthless monster. I am not Gin. Under normal circumstances, I prefer not to take action against ordinary, blissfully unaware civilians."
"Then what possible use could you have?" Haibara demanded, her voice sharp. She caught herself, her eyes darting away from the executive to lock onto the young detective lounging across from him. "No. I should be asking... what use does the Teyvat Organization have?"
The suffocating panic that had gripped her chest moments prior began to recede, replaced by a cold, calculating logic. She did not trust Cointreau's sudden display of morality, but a stated boundary was still a boundary. He would not immediately resort to slaughtering her friends., the Teyvat Organization had its own internal dynamics. Klee adored those children. Kaeya and Diluc were fiercely protective of Klee's happiness; they would never stand by and allow Cointreau to traumatize the little Spark Knight by murdering her playmates. And if the absolute worst came to pass, she always had her final trump card. She could simply end her own life. Without her, the children held zero utility value to the Black Organization and would be discarded, safe from further use.
Hearing himself addressed, Heizou paused. He had been idly twirling a short, wicked-looking dagger between his knuckles, a blade he had produced from thin air. He flipped the weapon shut, tucking it away before drawing his own terminal from his pocket. His thumb swiped across the screen, sending a file directly to Haibara's device. "You will understand perfectly once you look at this photo," he said, his tone entirely too cheerful for the heavy atmosphere.
"What?" Haibara frowned deeply. She raised her own terminal, the screen lighting up with an incoming message notification. She tapped the file open, her eyes scanning the high-resolution image. All the blood drained from her face. The device nearly slipped from her numb fingers. "Sister!" she gasped, the word tearing from her throat in a ragged, disbelieving whisper.
The photograph displayed on the glowing screen was unmistakable. It showed Akemi Miyano. Her sister lay motionless in a sterile, white room that heavily resembled an intensive care ward. A clear plastic ventilator mask covered her nose and mouth, pumping life-saving oxygen into her lungs. She was unconscious, pale, but undeniably whole.
Haibara's head snapped up, her wide, desperate eyes locking onto Heizou. A frantic barrage of questions spilled from her lips, her carefully maintained composure shattering completely. "When was this taken? How do you have this? What happened to her? And..." She choked on her own breath, her voice dropping to a fragile, terrified pitch as she finally asked the only question that truly mattered. "Is my sister... is she really alive?"
"Oh my, Miss Miyano. I know you are incredibly anxious, but please, do not rush." Heizou raised a hand, making a gentle, downward pressing motion, silently urging her to rein in her spiraling emotions.
He waited patiently as Haibara dragged in a long, shuddering breath, forcing her erratic heartbeat to slow. Once the wild panic in her eyes dulled to a sharp, focused intensity, Heizou finally began his explanation. "This lovely young lady was rescued by our operatives, and let me tell you, it required a monumental amount of effort. As you well know, Gin personally oversaw the execution of Akemi Miyano. Snatching a target out from under that paranoid man's nose, completely behind his back, was no small feat."
Heizou leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a sharp, calculating gleam replacing his playful demeanor. "So, little Miss Miyano, you really ought to thank us properly for our hard work. Well then, Sherry..." He tilted his head, his eyes locking onto hers. "As far as you are concerned, is this use enough?"
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