One ate; the other tinkered with a phone.
Five minutes later, Anita Hailey finished her meal, took her fever medicine, and went to the bedroom to change.
On his end, Steve Smith finished downloading the three bounty files to his phone. He wiped every trace of his browsing history from the laptop, shut it down, and draped a spare coat over the snoring Officer Nathan. When Anita emerged, he packed her discarded pajamas and her second new outfit into a bag to take with them.
Anita didn't protest. As they stepped out, she pulled the hood of her new red jacket over her head. "What about him?" she asked, nodding toward the apartment.
"He'll head back on his own when he wakes up." Steve locked the door. "Give me the address. I'll drive you."
"21, Block 2, Baker District."
An hour later, the car pulled up in front of the Wood estate. Anita stared at the dark, silent mansion and let out a small cough. "Looks like no one's home. You can head back; I'll wait out here for a bit."
She had been so focused on finding Jimmy Wood—her fellow victim of the shrinking poison—that she had almost forgotten that if Jimmy had shrunken, he wouldn't be living in his own house anymore.
"I'll wait with you for a while," Steve said, stepping out of the car.
"No need!"
Anita scrambled out after him, suddenly shifting into the persona of a wary little girl. Her expression turned sharp and suspicious. "I've heard about creeps who target young girls. Are you trying to see who else is home so you can plan a kidnapping?"
Steve froze for a second.
"Pfft."
He... he laughed?
Anita stared at him. The smile on the young man's face wasn't deep, but his pale violet eyes crinkled in a way that looked like melting clouds—warm and strangely inviting.
The boy...
She snapped back to reality, her face hardening. "What? What's so funny!"
Steve rubbed his face. This body hadn't laughed in a long time; the muscles felt stiff and a bit sore from the sudden movement. "It's just funny seeing you suddenly act like a bratty, difficult little kid."
She had been perfectly composed until now, and then she'd flipped the script as if to say: 'I've suspected you were a villain all along, and now that I'm home, I'm unmasking you!'
Anyone else might have been offended, but Steve knew better. He knew Anita wasn't a real child; she wouldn't make such a childish scene unless she had a motive.
Was she worried about running into the Organization here? Or was she trying to push him away so he wouldn't get caught in the crossfire?
Anita thought back to the stack of psychology books on his desk and realized: Right, this guy is a psych major. There was no point in acting. "I was joking," she muttered.
Steve nodded. "Mm."
Anita gave him a strange look. This guy, who seemed to have zero curiosity and was quiet enough to be borderline autistic—was he really studying psychology? "Are you always like this?"
Steve looked at her, puzzled.
"No curiosity, no expression, zero charisma... you act like a cold, arrogant, difficult person," Anita said, throwing his "difficult kid" comment right back at him.
Steve considered this. "Do I look difficult to get along with?"
"On the outside, yes," Anita said, watching his calm face.
But you aren't, her silence added.
She wasn't about to start comforting a grown man—it felt too "girly" for her—but she figured he got the point. Even if he was a man of few words, he wasn't "arrogant." Being around him was actually... relaxing. He was a man of quiet, hidden kindness.
He could have brought her back out of pity or some dark motive, but he'd gone through the trouble of buying her clothes, shoes, and... well, the underwear didn't count.
But when she was eating, she'd noticed the empty takeout box on the table. He had specifically bought two portions, remembering hers. Her hair still smelled faintly of shampoo, yet her pillow had been dry when she woke—meaning he'd carefully blow-dried her hair while she was out.
The pajamas and slippers were the softest material available. He'd picked out two different colors of clothing and hadn't forgotten heavy jackets for the cold night air. And finally, she'd woken up to a warm meal and water that had been cooled to the perfect drinking temperature just as it was time for her meds.
Through it all, he hadn't mentioned a single thing he'd done. He acted as if it were only natural.
Ignoring his personality and his money, these small details were what actually moved her. She stole a glance at Steve as he stood beside her, looking at his phone. He just loves playing the cold loner, doesn't he? Doesn't know how to express himself at all...
"Excuse me..."
Next door, Dr. Hershel opened his gate, looking at the two people standing in the cold wind with confusion. "Are you looking for the Woods?"
"I'm a distant relative of Jimmy's. My parents were coming to visit, but I got separated from them," Anita lied, glancing at Steve as he pocketed his phone. "This kind gentleman was nice enough to drop me off. I have something very important to discuss with Jimmy Wood."
Steve, the newly dubbed "Kind Gentleman": "..."
"Looking for Jimmy? He hasn't been back in ages..." Dr. Hershel looked troubled.
He'd lived next door for years and had never heard Jimmy mention a distant relative. But then again, family trees were complicated. It felt wrong to leave a child standing out in the street.
"You..." Anita looked at Dr. Hershel, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. "Are you familiar with the... medication he took?"
Dr. Hershel stiffened. The medication?
"I don't think you'd mind if I sat in your house for a bit while this 'unrelated' gentleman goes about his business," Anita said smoothly. "After all, we're practically relatives. I'm sure you'd love to chat, wouldn't you?"
To Dr. Hershel's ears, it was a blatant threat.
"Oh! Of course!" Hershel masked his shock with a strained smile, glancing at Steve. So, he was just an "unrelated kind soul," was he?
Anita turned to Steve. "Thank you for the ride. I'll wait for him inside. You can go now."
Steve was curious about how Anita and Hershel would navigate their first conversation, but it was clear Anita didn't want him involved. He nodded, got back in his car, turned off his phone, and drove away.
He'd knocked out Nathan and lied to the hospital to delay his return. That was a fact. Even if he went back now, he'd be greeted with "intensive observation" and a lecture.
He was done playing their game.
He was going to Osaka. It was time to catch Kevin Nelms.
The next day. Osaka, Tsutenkaku Tower.
On the observation deck, a dark-skinned teenager was pointing out the sights to a group. "Over there is the Tennoji Zoo, and that way is the Osaka Arena..."
Harley Hartwell, Steve noted from a distance.
He pulled his gaze away and went back to asking locals about forests in Osaka with waterfalls and small cabins. He had driven through the night and grabbed a few hours of sleep in a hotel; he had to move fast, or the "Death God Elementary Student" would beat him to the bounty.
He didn't remember the exact name of the place where Kevin Nelms was found, so he had to play the tourist. Tsutenkaku was a hotspot for tour guides who knew every inch of the local landscape.
"You must mean the Minoh Falls at Mount Minoh," a middle-aged guide said with a nostalgic sigh. "There are forests and old cabins up there. I haven't been in years, so I'm not sure if the cabins are still standing. It used to be famous for the way the water plunged straight down the cliff, but they stopped developing it. It's a bit far from the city, so it's gone wild now..."
Steve pulled an Osaka map from his backpack. "It's not marked here."
"Let me mark it for you," the guide said, clicking a pen. "I'll even draw the mountain path. You can drive most of the way up; it's very convenient. But why go there? If you want a nature hike, there are much better spots, like—"
"Thanks," Steve interrupted. "A few friends asked me to meet them there. If I have time, I'll check out the other spots with them later."
"I see! Well, if you need a guide later, look me up. Nobody knows Osaka like Pete Hirakawa!" the guide pitched. "Just go to the Yamashima Travel Agency and ask for Pete!"
"I'll keep that in mind," Steve said. He glanced over at Jimmy Wood—currently in his child form—and his group.
They were still chatting and looking at the view. Steve needed to rent a car. He almost envied them, being able to ride around in a police car to catch a criminal...
By the observation window, Harley Hartwell was teasing Jimmy. "I had a dream that just as I was about to catch the killer, he spun around and stabbed me... and then you died!"
Jimmy stumbled, sweating. "What the—? Come on, man, don't just go around killing people in your dreams, okay?"
Harley noticed Jimmy looking behind them. "What is it?"
"I thought someone was watching us..." Jimmy scanned the crowd. His eyes lingered for a split second on a retreating figure dressed entirely in black.
"There are hundreds of people here. Someone's bound to look our way," Harley said, rolling his eyes. "Even if they were staring, they were probably just looking at the view! We're standing right in front of the window!"
"I guess so." Jimmy turned back. It was probably just his imagination.