Page 153 of Mercy Written in Blood

The room contained one metal desk and a chair. A white fluorescent light flickered overhead.

Haruki looked up.

"The power is off."

Ken followed his gaze. A battery pack had been fixed beside the light. It pulsed quietly.

"They left this on purpose," he said.

The desk had been cleaned. The chair faced it. Nothing rested on the surface except a single black folder.

Reina raised her weapon. Daisuke moved in front of Haruki. No one touched the folder.

Haruki stared at it. Too obvious. Too carefully centred.

"They wanted us to find it," Ken said.

"Yes."

Daisuke checked beneath the desk and along the walls for wires. Nothing. He scanned the folder with a handheld detector.

"No electronics."

"That doesn't mean safe," Reina said.

"No."

Haruki stepped around Daisuke. Ken blocked him.

"I'll open it."

"I'm capable."

"That has never been the issue."

Haruki looked at him. Ken did not move. Eventually, Haruki stepped back. Ken pulled on a pair of gloves. He opened the folder.

Inside was a single photograph. For a moment, no one reacted.

The image showed the entrance to Takamori University Medical Centre. Haruki recognised the angle immediately — taken from across the street, the hospital sign in the foreground, rain blurring the pavement, a dark car waiting beneath the main entrance. Two people stood beside it. Haruki. Renji.

The photograph had been taken three weeks earlier. The day Haruki had returned to check on the tunnel survivors. He remembered the moment — Renji had followed him outside after replacing the dressing he had torn open, and they had argued beneath the awning while Reina arranged the car. Haruki had been smiling. Renji had not.

The photograph captured Renji reaching towards Haruki's coat, one hand near his side as though checking the wound withouttouching him. It was intimate only because whoever took it had chosen the exact second when it could appear so.

Reina looked at Haruki. No one commented.

Ken turned the photograph over. A time and date had been printed on the back. Beneath them, one sentence appeared in black ink.

HE SHOULD NOT HAVE SURVIVED.

The room became colder. Haruki took the photograph. The paper was new. The ink had not smudged.

"They were at the hospital," Reina said.

Haruki looked again at Renji's image. His face was partially turned towards the camera. Not looking at it. Not aware.

"They were watching the survivors," Ken said.