As the lingering tension with Mikey and Draken faded into the distance, Kaitou slid his hands back into his pockets and muttered, "So where're we heading next?"
Angel didn't even look up from the journal in her hand. "Asakusa."
He blinked. "Asakusa? That shrine town?"
She nodded. "Specifically, the back shrine district, yeah."
Kaitou squinted. "That place's all tourists and temple snacks now. Why bother?"
"My mom's journal mentioned it," Angel said, flipping through pages. Her fingers stopped at one marked with a flower-shaped sticker. "She said there's something buried there. Something Akira, Tsumi-papa, and Tsuya-papa hid for the future generation."
"…Buried?" Kaitou repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You telling me our old men went all secret garden with a time capsule?"
She laughed under her breath. "Basically, yeah. Apparently, when they were younger, back before the big territorial shifts, the three of them decided to bury a box. Something symbolic. Letters, mementos for the future generations to open when this underworld has healed."
"Healed?" Kaitou snorted. "Didn't know our dads were so… dreamy. Thought they were out busting heads, not writing diary entries under moonlight."
"Right?" Angel smiled. "But they were actually big softies. You wouldn't think it, but Kira-papa, he was the one who dragged my mom to the spot so she could add a letter too."
Kaitou's posture relaxed. "Kira-papa, huh."
"Yeah. That's what I call him." Angel shut the book gently, "since I had 3 dads n all."
"Then can your dad be considered to be mine, too."
"if you had actually met him, I had no doubt that's what ya'll be ."
There was a short pause before Kaitou cleared his throat. "Still, if it's Asakusa, we'd better stay alert. That district's under the Tennotsukai syndicate now."
Angel tilted her head. "They big?"
"They're not small. But they're not noisy or anythin'. Tennotsukai's the kind that doesn't flex but keeps every cog turning. They don't show off, don't get too involved in turf fights, but no one walks over their lines either."
"Huh." Angel hummed. "Like quiet puppeteers?"
"Something like that," he replied. "No one even knows who runs them. Hidden leader. At least not common underlings. Shows how deep the system goes."
"Creepy," she murmured, rubbing her chin. "Also cool."
They arrived in Asakusa by noon. The air was sweet with incense, and the streets were flooded with day-walkers, food stalls, and chatter. But Angel led them further in, toward the back shrine areas, where fewer people wandered. The sun filtered through the trees, casting shadows against stone lanterns and fox statues.
"Okay, let's figure this out," she said, flipping back to the journal.
Kaitou glanced at the page. "So what are we even looking for?"
Angel pointed. "'Beneath the fox's shadow, where the old plum tree grows crooked, near the wooden gate that never opens.' That's what she wrote."
Kaitou stared at her flatly. "That's a riddle. That's not directions."
Angel grinned. "It's a scavenger hunt. Aren't you excited?"
"No."
They started looking.
For hours.
They circled the shrine complex, passed under torii gates, peeked behind statues, wandered through narrow gravel paths and mini bamboo groves. A stray cat meowed at them. Angel gave it a fish cake and asked if it knew where the plum tree was. It ignored her.
Kaitou stepped into the mud. Again.
"Angel. I'm gonna start believing this box doesn't exist."
"Have faith," she replied, balancing herself on the edge of a fence to get a better view. Her boots were caked with dirt, and her jacket was halfway zipped from the heat.
He sighed and shook the mud off his leg. "If this ends with a handwritten poem and a dried flower, I'm walking into traffic."
"Be dramatic later. I think I see something crooked!"
They cut through a patch of overgrown weeds and found a twisted, gnarled plum tree leaning diagonally over a mossy wooden gate.
Angel gasped. "That's it! That's the crooked plum tree!"
Kaitou's eyes trailed the shadow cast by the fox statue beside it. Right on the roots.
He crouched down. "It better be that crooked plum tree."
They dug. The dirt was damp and stubborn, but after a few minutes, their fingers scraped against something solid.
Kaitou dragged it out with a grunt. A rusted metal box, stained with age and mud.
Angel wiped it clean with her sleeve, heart thudding.
Inside, wrapped in aged waterproof cloth, were three neatly folded letters.
One was addressed in soft cursive, the ink faded gently with time:
To Angel, from your Kira-papa.
Another, in sharp blocky strokes:
To Kaitou, from Tatsuya.
They stared at the letters, breath caught in their chests. A wave of unexpected emotion swept over them. The golden glow of sunset and the warm breeze brushed against their eyes, slightly misted with tears.
They let the handwriting etch itself into their hearts. Each letter a tug on a fragile string that almost snapped… but didn't.
It hurt. It mourned. Just to trace their fingers over those names. Their fathers' hands had written this. Their presence lived in every curve and edge of the ink.
Their personalities shone through ever so slightly.
They just… missed the fathers stolen from them so early.
"...Do we read them now?" Angel whispered. Her voice a little hoarse from the held-back tears.
Before Kaitou could respond, a voice called out from behind them.
"Yumi-Hīme." (Princess Yumi)
Angel's entire body froze. Only a select few would refer to her as such a title...
Her fingers tightened around the envelope, her head slowly turning over her shoulder.
"..."
"???"
She blinked fast.
"...eh... Hiraii Hatsu-san…?"
Behind them stood a tall man in a grey jacket, his hair slicked back like it hadn't changed in two decades. His expression was cool and unreadable, just like she remembered.
Beside him, a woman with sharp eyes and crimson lipstick stood quietly, her arms crossed and gaze...sad?
Kaitou looked back and forth. "Who—?"
"Um," she said quietly. "That's…"
She didn't finish her sentence. Because suddenly, it felt like her entire childhood had just walked out from the trees.