Chapter 31: Ayai Asai in Public and in Private, the Furious Sato (Please Vote! Please Keep Reading)

At the press conference.

Standing on the steps, Ayase Aya, beautiful and striking in her uniform, exuded a crisp, valiant poise. Facing the throng of reporters below, she spoke with composure, showing no sign of stage fright.

To emphasize the urgency of the matter, the Metropolitan Police Department had not arranged the conference in the auditorium but held it right outside the main entrance, with a crowd of reporters gathered at the foot of the steps.

"After a long-term investigation, we have obtained irrefutable evidence of the Noguchi Society's involvement in drug trafficking. Noguchi Matsuo will soon be prosecuted. Anyone who dares challenge the boundaries of the law will ultimately be punished!"

Her passionate and stirring statement complete, Ayase Aya bowed slightly to signal the end of her remarks.

Applause thundered through the crowd.

"Ayase, truly a worthy daughter of a formidable father! The Ayase family is indeed a family of police officers—every child raised is so outstanding," said Superintendent Ninpei Kunio as he lightly applauded, turning to Ayase Takehiko.

Takehiko inclined his body slightly in respect and replied modestly, "You flatter us, Superintendent. She’s just a fledgling, with much to learn yet."

"A fledgling? Hah, Aya is already a renowned detective—her future achievements are not to be underestimated." Ninpei Kunio smiled, lowering his hands, then said casually, "Jiro will return at the end of the month. He called the other day and asked after Aya. If it’s convenient, do bring her to our home as a guest. Let the young people interact and get to know each other. What do you think, Ayase?"

"Certainly," Takehiko replied, understanding Ninpei’s intentions and pleased to facilitate the arrangement both professionally and personally. "We would be honored to visit."

"Inspector Ayase, if I recall correctly, you recently solved the Sakura Society’s drug manufacturing case, and now you’ve uncovered Noguchi Society’s drug trafficking. Does this mean drug dealing is common among crime syndicates?" a reporter asked, rising to address Ayase Aya. "Could you share your thoughts?"

Aya smiled, nodded politely, and replied, "As a police officer, I value truth and accuracy. At present, we have not discovered evidence of drug trafficking among other syndicates."

"If it were the Yamaguchi-gumi or Inagawa-kai—large syndicates—suspected of drug dealing, would you still pursue the investigation to the end, even under pressure?" the reporter pressed.

"Sorry, I don’t understand what pressure you mean," Aya shook her head slightly, then straightened and answered with conviction, "But I can promise—no matter the individual or organization, as long as there is evidence of crime, I will investigate thoroughly and uphold the law!"

The shutters snapped in chorus, capturing the steadfast, righteous look in her eyes.

Next, Ninpei Kunio stepped up to speak.

Aya did not stay to listen. Without pause, she hurried across the street to the hotel opposite the Metropolitan Police Department.

Takehiko frowned as he watched his daughter leave, wanting to follow, but seeing Ninpei still on stage, he couldn’t walk away. Soon, it would be his turn to address the shooting and explosion on the expressway that evening.

At the hotel entrance, Aya called Aoyama Hidenobu. Her voice was low as she asked, "Which room?"

"2020. The door’s open."

She hung up. Standing before the hotel’s glass doors, she took a deep breath and walked in.

Room 2020’s door was indeed slightly ajar. She pushed it open, closed it behind her, and crossed the foyer into the living room. There, Aoyama Hidenobu, dressed in a white bathrobe and holding a glass of red wine, stood before the floor-to-ceiling window. The window faced directly toward the Metropolitan Police’s main entrance, perfectly overlooking the entire press conference.

Hearing the sound, Aoyama turned.

Aya hadn’t expected him to turn suddenly. The moment their eyes met, she looked away at once.

Aoyama laughed, swirling his wine as he approached. With a finger, he gently lifted her smooth chin. "Just now, Inspector Ayase faced a horde of reporters and high-ranking police officials with such flair and confidence. But now, faced with me, your gaze falters and you shrink away. Am I, a mere division chief, more intimidating than all of them?"

Though he hadn’t managed to sway Noguchi Matsuo tonight, he could still break down Ayase Aya—a fine result.

"You… Stop talking nonsense. If you want something, hurry up and do it," Aya stammered, her face flushed, hands clutching the edge of her pants. Bracing herself, she met Aoyama’s gaze, her heart pounding wildly.

In this moment, she was a stark contrast to the bold, spirited policewoman of the press conference—like two different people.

Aoyama leaned in, his breath hot at her ear. "I really want to pick you up in my arms."

"Pick me up… for what?" she asked breathlessly.

He nodded, answering in a tone that brooked no doubt, "Exactly what you think."

"You—" Aya, flustered and exasperated, stopped wasting words. She reached to undress herself, feigning impatience. "If you’re going to do it, do it."

"Don’t," Aoyama caught her hand.

She looked up at him, confused.

Aoyama, with a serious face, said, "I know you have reservations about me. It would be humiliating for you, as a superior, to undress before a subordinate. Besides, this uniform probably gives you some sense of security. Keep it on. It’ll make you feel better."

Aya hadn’t expected him to be unexpectedly gentle, instead of the humiliation and mockery she’d imagined. It left her feeling oddly unsettled.

"Thank you," she said, bowing, lips pressed together, ears burning red.

Aoyama drained his wine and tossed aside the glass. With a sudden motion that made Aya yelp, he pulled her into his arms and pressed her against the window.

"Wait—wait! Not here!"

Reflexively, Aya braced her hands on the glass. Glancing down, she saw her father taking the stage, and blushed furiously, mortified.

"Look," Aoyama teased, "Inspector Ayase looks so charismatic as a leader. As his daughter, shouldn’t you properly admire your father?"

"Aoyama, please, I’m begging you—"

"Inspector, do you think your father would notice you if he looked up? Probably not, we’re too high up."

"You wretch—shut up!" Realizing begging was useless, Aya squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best not to look down.

People are different. At the same age, some are still bowing and scraping before their bosses, while others are making their bosses bow before them.

At the press conference, Ayase Takehiko was solemnly promising a thorough investigation into the explosion, unaware that in the building opposite, his beloved daughter was being pressed against the glass by her subordinate in utter defiance of protocol.

By the time the press conference ended, Aoyama Hidenobu was already finished as well. Sated and at ease, he lounged on the bed, watching Aya fix her hair, and sincerely praised her, "Inspector Ayase, you’re truly someone who’s cold on the outside and warm within, tough yet gentle."

After this encounter, the two would be the best of partners, knowing each other inside and out.

Aya shot him a fierce glare, straightened her rumpled uniform, and turned to leave.

"Stop," Aoyama ordered.

She halted and looked back at him.

With a half-smile, Aoyama said, "Is the Ayase family’s upbringing so poor that Inspector Ayase doesn’t know what manners are? Leaving without a word?"

"Don’t insult the Ayase family!" Aya glared at him.

Aoyama met her gaze, calm and unfazed.

In the end, Aya gave in, swallowing her humiliation as she bowed. "Thank you for your hard work, Aoyama. Please rest well. I’ll take my leave now. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Aoyama replied with a smile.

Only then did Aya leave the hotel.

—

"Where did you go? The Superintendent wanted to speak to you," Takehiko said, hurrying toward his daughter, frowning in reproach.

Aya instinctively touched her lower abdomen, unable to meet her father’s eyes, her lips pressed tight. "I wasn’t feeling well just now."

Full.

"Really? Are you feeling better now?" Takehiko asked with concern.

Aya’s cheeks reddened. "Yes, I’m fine now."

Though the experience had been humiliating, she had to admit it was not entirely unpleasant. After all, Aoyama was not only deft and clever with his hands, but also silver-tongued and talented in every way.

"That’s good. Let’s go home," Takehiko said in relief, walking toward the parking lot. "The Superintendent’s second son is coming back at the end of the month. He’s invited us over. I think he wants to introduce you to Jiro. You played together as children, and I think—"

"Dad," Aya interrupted, frowning. "Right now, I just want to focus on my work."

Besides, as for marriage, she’d have to ask Aoyama first whether he liked married women.

Otherwise, she’d never marry.

—

"Damn it! That wretched Aoyama Hidenobu!"

At home, Sato Toshitomi, dressed in pajamas, seized the teacup before him and smashed it in a rage.

Half an hour earlier, he’d been roused from sleep by a call from a senior Metropolitan Police official, who harshly berated him about Noguchi Matsuo’s arrest that night.

Utterly confused, Sato had bowed and scraped through the call, then immediately ordered his subordinates to investigate. He soon found out that the Shinjuku Police had arrested Noguchi Matsuo for drug trafficking.

The moment he heard "Shinjuku Police," he knew without a doubt that Aoyama Hidenobu was causing trouble under his name, stirring up enmity for him.

Once he understood, Sato was also infuriated with the official who had berated him without getting the facts straight. How could they not even know who’d killed their own dog, yet go around biting people?

The more Sato tried to brush it off, the more aggrieved he felt; the more he tried to let it go, the angrier he got. He called the official back, his tone superficially respectful but laced with barbs. "Chief Superintendent, apologies for disturbing you so late. But after my own inquiry, I found there was no directive from me regarding Noguchi Matsuo’s arrest. Have you perhaps made a mistake? Please be sure to investigate thoroughly!"

He, too, had backing, and disliked this particular official. He wasn’t about to take blame for nothing.

There was a pause on the other end, then a slow, female voice said, "Sato, I’ve just gotten to the bottom of things. I know you called back because you’re upset, and I know you have a point. But let’s not discuss reason for now. Regardless of the facts, even if I bear ninety-nine percent of the responsibility, don’t you bear even one percent? That’s enough. I don’t want to dwell on it. Reflect on your own conduct. If you have further complaints, come to my office tomorrow."

The line went dead.

Hearing the busy tone, Sato, who had intended to vent his frustration, only grew more furious. "Damn it!"

That menopausal old hag!

Quaking with rage, Sato’s hands trembled as he dialed Takahashi Tomoharu’s home. When the call connected, he ground out, "Start your new post tomorrow. I want Aoyama Hidenobu dead! Dead! Dead!"

With that, he slammed down the receiver.

Bracing himself against the table, he panted heavily.

Aoyama Hidenobu!

If I can’t take her down, I’ll take you down instead!