Lauvida

In the sea of pompous and elaborate getups, gowns ballooned by the riches tucked in their pockets, the footsteps of the elite weighed heavy across the wooden floor. Every step and clack audible, barely any peace reached Kougami's ears since he had entered the party venue.

As expected of Bureau Chief Homura, his idea of a party was not simply that of fine tunes and good food—it was all of those but grander. The newly instated chief had invited the Japan Philharmonic Orchestra to play music for his distinguished guests, the same orchestra that had been gracing the official functions of the imperial family for years. In that event, Shizuka was the boss, and the maestro followed Shizuka’s song requests on command—what a way to have a jukebox. The food, the mouth-watering spread, it was prepared by local chefs who recently bagged gold in a Sibyl-officiated food competition, and their skills were put to the test once again to satisfy the palates of high-profile government officials, public figures, and business leaders. The party's centerpiece wasn't surprising either: an intricate installation of 700,000 shards of glass resembling a giant chrysanthemum—Japan's national flower, symbolizing longevity, rejuvenation, and royalty.

A party fit for royalty, alright. That was how Kougami could put it. Perhaps the grandest display in all of those he had attended before, Kougami suddenly became conscious of his own appearance.

The sophisticated cries of the violins extended across the ballroom, and as if on cue, the ceiling lights dimmed to accommodate the calmer mood in the air. The guests scurried through the room to find their respective dancing partners, and before Kougami could finish his cigarette, everybody had already settled in, hands held and waists tugged.

Meanwhile, Kougami was alone in a corner. To be exact, he deserted his more sociable peers from the Suppressing Action Department for some solitude. His lone state did make him seem like a sore thumb, but Kougami, who spent most of the hour leaning against a wall, was willing to pass the time in that manner, even if people were beginning to shoot condescending glances his way.

Then, the giant doors to the ballroom opened, and the corner of Kougami's eye caught something vibrant red. Like an exotic flower. The striking, colorful gown briskly swept the floor, turning everyone else's attention toward the center. As for Kougami who stood at the far back, he was not bothered to have a better look at the newcomer, until the gown's owner curtsied in front of Public Safety Bureau Chief Homura Shizuka.

Kougami then had a hunch of who it was. He slowly made his way through the stagnant crowd and saw her. Given the guest's petite, lithe build and short brown hair, there was no mistake. The night’s flower of vermillion was no other than Tsunemori Akane.

In Kougami's memories of working with her, Tsunemori had always worn her formal black suit or MWPSB jacket whenever she was out in the field. Sometimes, Kougami’s eyes couldn't help checking her form; he did make a mental note to stop his awful habit. It was, however, a first for Kougami to find his former superior in such a pristine state, and it took everything in him to avoid looking like an idiot.

Tsunemori stood far from him, startled by the sudden barrage of notorious faces known to plaster their manufactured smiles and promises on any bare screen, wall, and pole they could find. She, despite her previous incarceration record, was still a highly sought flower, and the crappy weeds competed for her attention. Kougami’s loudest voice couldn't possibly meet the distance even if he tried.

The Cinderella story never existed for Kougami; hard to imagine it would ever happen in his lifetime. He closed his eyes, he refused to believe in it. When he was about to give up his thin thread of hope, the clacking of someone's heels grew louder with every step. The distance closed between Kougami and that person, and he could feel a presence right in front of him.

So she stood there proudly, the flower of vermillion whose dark amber eyes glowed brighter than the dim lights above, and her pale shoulders and ample cleavage bared for him to see. So tempting, Kougami could hardly resist staring at her.

But the pompous weeds glared at the man eyed by their precious flower. It was uncalled for: the spotlight was cast on Kougami who was never fond of attention. The weeds self-appointed themselves as judges; they deemed Kougami unworthy of standing next to Tsunemori. Kougami's predicament was clearly due to Tsunemori picking him, and she was definitely the first to ever make him feel uncomfortable in his own skin.

“Mr. Kougami?” the flower of vermillion met Kougami's gaze. Tsunemori's curtain of lashes fluttered, revealing the rugged man's reflection in her experienced eyes. What could she have witnessed in those years while Kougami was away?

Tsunemori lifted her hand and reached out to Kougami as a sign of invitation. She asked him, “May I have this opportunity to dance with you?”

The next thing Kougami knew, he was guiding Tsunemori's footsteps, her hand in his, as the two danced to the slowest song Kougami had ever heard in years. Following the dwindling sound of the piano keys, Kougami slowly whispered in Tsunemori's ear, “One, step step. Two, step step. Three, step step, and finally, turn right here,”

The moment was beyond Kougami's dreams, and he still couldn't believe it. As to why his self-doubt ran as deep as the pits of the earth, Kougami was once asked if his everyday was like an endless hell. Most of the time, sure; dread was the usual suspect that invaded his mind. Kougami never begged the nameless deity to grant him bubble-like dreams because he hated having any sort of hope for happiness. To him, the fleeting feeling was always so precious, so fragile.

Unfortunately, rare occasions such as that night reminded the ex-fugitive of a curse worse than his insomnia: seeing Tsunemori so beautiful, Kougami was bound to have difficulty sleeping later, wasting his hours thinking of an unreachable future with her.

Front Cover

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Front Page Art

"Next Issue" Art

Note: For volume 4, I couldn't find its "next issue" art or any details about the series' continuation.

This section states the story's direction and the release date of the next volume; it's meant to tease readers. Volumes 1~3 has information about the next issue, while volume 4 doesn't.