The police arrived in force, three patrol cars with officers quickly emerging with their hands on their weapons until they saw the scene. Three men encased in ice blocks, heads exposed, unconscious or too exhausted to struggle. A sixteen-year-old girl was standing near them, phone in hand, with a six-year-old boy sitting on an ice throne, looking tired.
The lead officer, a middle-aged woman, approached cautiously.
"Yahsiro Shouko?" she asked, looking at the flash drive Shouko held up.
"Yes, ma'am. I called this in. These men are Yashiro Gaku, Fuyumi Gato, and Fuyumi Sato. They murdered my mother four years ago and tried to kill me today to cover it up. Everything is on this drive. Photos, timelines, motive documentation, and witness information. Everything you need to prosecute."
The officer took the drive carefully, studying Shouko's face. "And the ice?"
"My quirk is Enhanced Smell, not ice manipulation," Shouko said smoothly. "When they attacked me at this location, I ran, but there was a pro hero nearby doing patrol. Thankfully, he heard me screaming and intervened and froze all three of them before they could hurt me. He stayed until I called the police, then left, said he had to respond to another emergency."
The officer looked skeptical. "A pro hero just happened to be patrolling this rural area?"
"He said he was visiting family in town for New Year's. Heard me scream while walking back from the shrine." Shouko gestured at the ice blocks. "I'm just glad he was there. Otherwise..." She let the implication hang.
Another officer was examining the three trapped men, checking vitals, documenting the scene with photos. "We'll need quirk specialists to thaw them safely."
"What about the child?" The lead officer nodded toward me.
"My parents' grandson. He was with me earlier in the day, but went home before these men confronted me. I called him after the hero left, asked him to come sit with me while I waited for the police. Didn't want to be alone." Shouko looked at me. "He's just a kid; he has nothing to do with any of this."
The officer studied me for a long moment. I did my best to look like a tired kid who'd just arrived at a scary scene.
"Is that true?" she asked me directly.
"I got here after everything happened," I said, "Shouko called me and said she needed someone to wait with her, so I came."
The officer didn't look entirely convinced, but she didn't push. Instead, she turned back to Shouko.
"You put yourself in incredible danger. Confronting three suspected murderers alone? What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't planning to confront them. They came to me, sent me a threatening message telling me to come to this location. I thought about ignoring it, but I knew if I didn't face this now, they'd just keep coming after me." Shouko's voice was steady. "I called my friends before coming and told them to alert the police if I didn't check in within thirty minutes. I had a plan and was careful."
"Careful would have been calling us immediately."
"With what evidence? I had theories and photos. Nothing concrete until they actually attacked me and confirmed everything."
The officer sighed, clearly frustrated but also sympathetic. "You're lucky that hero showed up."
"I know."
"We're going to need a full statement at the station, and we'll need to contact your legal guardians."
"I'll call them now."
While Shouko made the call, paramedics arrived to assess the three frozen men. They worked carefully, checking for frostbite, hypothermia, and other complications from being encased in ice.
I sat on the snow and watched, too tired to move. The headache from the ice beam still pounded in my head while my quirk's calming effect was done now that the immediate danger was over, leaving me emotionally drained.
Shouko finished her call and came over to me.
"Thank you. For everything. For helping me figure this out and for protecting me during the fight.
"You did all the real detective work here; if I'm being honest, you deserve the credit."
"Still. I couldn't have done this without you."
She squeezed my hand, then went back to talk to the police.
Over the next hour, more officers arrived. Crime scene investigators and Quirk specialists carefully began the process of thawing the three men. There was an ambulance to transport them once freed.
Grandfather arrived in his truck, face pale with worry. He saw me first, then Shouko, then the scene of ice and police.
"What in the world happened here?"
Shouko explained everything to him again. Grandfather listened in silence, expression shifting from worry to shock to anger to relief.
"You should have told us," he said finally. "Should have let us help. Let us protect you."
"I couldn't. If you'd known what I was doing, you would have stopped me, and I needed to do this. For Mom. For myself."
He pulled her into a tight hug. "You're safe. That's what matters. You're safe."
The police took Shouko's statement at the scene, then said they'd need her to come to the station the next day for a more formal interview. They'd also need to speak with the photographer, Kei, and Shouko's friends who'd helped with the research.
By the time we finally left, it was nearly dark, with the drive home being quiet. Grandfather kept glancing at Shouko in the rearview mirror like he was making sure she was safe.
When we pulled up to the house, Grandmother was waiting on the porch. She took one look at Shouko's face and knew something had happened.
"Inside," she said. "Both of you. Now."
We gathered in the living room. My parents had been out shopping and weren't back yet, which Shouko seemed relieved about.
Grandmother and Grandfather sat on the couch, Shouko and I sat across from them, then she told grandmother the same thing she told grandma.
Grandmother's hands trembled as Shouko spoke; her eyes were wet with tears.
"I knew," she said finally, voice breaking. "I knew something was wrong, the way your mom died, but I had no proof.
"You believed me," Shouko said. "When I first came here, when I told you I thought Mom was murdered."
"Of course, I believed you. Grandmother wiped at her eyes. "But believing and proving are different things; I didn't know how to help you find the truth."
"You helped by giving me a home. By letting me stay here instead of another foster placement, by not forcing me to 'move on' or 'let go' like everyone else." Shouko's own voice was filled with emotion now. "You gave me stability and a safe place to work from, that's more than enough."
Grandmother stood up, walked over to Shouko, and pulled her into a crushing embrace.
"My brave girl," she sobbed. "My brave, brilliant, reckless girl. You could have been killed. You could have died like your mother, and I would have lost both of you."
"But I didn't. I'm here. I'm safe. And they're going to prison. Finally, after four years, justice."
They held each other and cried. Grandmother's shoulders shaking with relief and grief and pride all mixed together. Shouko clinging to her like a lifeline.
Grandfather stood and joined the embrace, wrapping both of them in his arms.
I looked away, giving them privacy, feeling like an intruder on an intimate moment.
Eventually, the tears subsided. Grandmother pulled back, cupping Shouko's face in her hands.
"Your mother would be so proud of you, so incredibly proud."
Shouko nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.
When my parents came home an hour later, we told the story again.
My mother was horrified that I'd gone to a crime scene, but my father was more understanding, noting that I'd only gone to support someone who needed help.
"Still," my mother said firmly, "next time something like this happens, you tell an adult immediately. You don't go running toward danger."
"Yes, Mom."
She pulled me into a hug anyway, holding me tight. "I'm glad you're safe. Both of you."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The news broke the next morning.
Local news stations picked up the story first. "Teen Solves Four-Year-Old Murder Case." "Ogaki Girl Brings Mother's Killers to Justice."
By afternoon, it had spread to regional news, and by evening, national outlets were covering it.
Shouko's face was everywhere. News interviews with police praising her investigative work, with statements from the prosecutor's office about the strength of the evidence she'd compiled, but also speculation about the mysterious hero who'd intervened at the critical moment.
We were supposed to leave for Musutafu that afternoon, but the town had other plans.
The mayor called and said the town council convened an emergency meeting. By evening, they'd organized a celebration.
"For Yashiro Shouko," the mayor announced on local radio. "Who showed tremendous courage in seeking justice for her mother and who exemplified the hero spirit we all admire, Ogaki is proud to call her one of our own."
The celebration was scheduled for that night in the town square. Food stalls, music, speeches, and fireworks at the end.
My parents agreed to stay one more day. How could we leave when the whole town wanted to honor Shouko?
The square was packed when we arrived. Hundreds of people, maybe more. Townspeople who'd known Shouko's mother and people who'd followed the case in the news. Families with children waving flags and holding signs.
"Justice for Sachiko!" one sign read.
"Shouko the Hero!" read another.
Shouko looked overwhelmed. She'd changed into nicer clothes, Grandmother insisting she needed to look presentable for the celebration but she seemed uncomfortable with all the attention.
"This is too much," she muttered to me as we walked through the crowd.
But the town was determined to celebrate.
Shouko had to give a short speech. She kept it simple, thanking everyone for their support, talking about how much her mother had meant to her, how important it was to never give up on seeking the truth.
The crowd cheered, with some people crying.
I found myself standing with my parents, watching Shouko get swarmed by well-wishers. She handled it with grace, thanking people, accepting their congratulations, but I could see the exhaustion in her eyes.
"She's amazing," my mother said. "What she did and the courage it took."
"She's very brave," my father agreed.
As the sun set, the fireworks began.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM
Explosions of color lit up the night sky as the crowd oohed and ahhed with each burst.
I watched the fireworks and thought about everything that had happened this week, and I thought about the truck driver, the man I'd killed.
For weeks, that guilt had sat in my chest, but watching Shouko get justice, watching her find peace after four years of uncertainty and pain, something shifted.
The truck driver's death was a terrible and unavoidable accident, but it wasn't my fault. I hadn't wanted him to die. The memory would never go away, but it will serve as a reminder to value life and to never take power for granted.
The thought settled in my chest, bringing a kind of peace I hadn't felt in weeks.
The fireworks continued, painting the sky in brilliant colors, and I let myself just be, watching fireworks while surrounded by family members.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
We left the next morning.
The goodbyes took forever, and Grandmother cried again, holding Shouko tight. Grandfather shook my hand seriously, like I was an adult, thanking me for being Shouko's friend.
"Take care of yourself," Shouko said, hugging me. "And keep training your quirk, you're going to be an amazing hero someday."
"You too. Enhanced smell might not seem flashy, but you used it to solve a murder. That's real hero work."
She smiled. "Maybe I'll become a detective instead; it seems like I have a talent for it."
"You'd be great at it."
Bobby tried to lick her face. She laughed and scratched behind his ears.
"I'll miss you, buddy, even if you do drool everywhere."
We loaded into the car. My father drove, my mother in the passenger seat, me in the back with Bobby sprawled across my lap.
As we pulled away, I watched Shouko and her grandparents standing on the porch, waving.
The drive home was quiet. I dozed off somewhere around the halfway point, exhausted from the emotional week.
When I woke up, we were pulling into our driveway in Musutafu.
Life would return to normal now.
But I'd never forget this week. The investigation, the fight, the lessons learned about justice and courage, and the weight of taking a life.
And soon, very soon, my family would grow even more.
Though I didn't know that yet.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
A/N: We're falling behind in Powerstones rankings, cmon, we can do this!
700 powerstones: Incomplete
900 powerstones: Incomplete
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