The Analyst

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗: 𝙳𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

TRIGGER WARNING: DESCRIPTION OF A CORPSE, CHILD DEATH/ABUSE, MENTIONS OF A MENTAL HOSPITAL AND FALSE DIAGNOSIS.
PROCEED.

I watched as Sakai cried, the cold metal of the handcuffs meeting her wrist. It seemed to happen in slow motion. Police dragged her to a car and I nodded at Officer Fujii as he passed me, his arms wrapped around the thrashing woman as she tried to escape.

She knew about her husband's meth addiction and couldn't stand the thought of him around her son. She confronted him about it but he threatened to tell Sakai's biggest secret.

Sugimoto was the body's host. Sakai was the alternate personality in a quirkless body.

I knew that it wasn't a quirk, it had to be DID.

Not wanting it to get out (for whatever reason that was, it honestly didn't seem that bad to me), she kept quiet. But eventually she heard word of a hit man that would kidnap a child and their father only to kill the father and bring the child back safely.

Leaving the child in the mother's custody.

She had started in America and made her way to other countries and Sakai had ordered the hit on her husband.

Solving the crime was easy enough, with Sugimoto telling me everything. The part that troubled me was the hit man. Who were they? Sugimoto brought me receipts and proof but said she didn't know the name or any personal information of the person.

That part was left to me.

I had called Noah and my boss, telling them to look into those cases, have them reopened.

Their alias was Chichi Koroshi, or Father Killer. Charming.

I asked Sugimoto how Sakai and the Father Killer met, but she told me she didn't know. She said the only way she knew about the hit man at all was from when she would front and see the letters exchanged between the two.

I guess I'd find out sooner rather than later, considering I'd get to interrogate her later.

But right now, it was late at night and I was ready to go home. I made sure she got to the station and then went home myself, tired from a day of running around the city and eventually just being told what the answer was.

Love it when people do my job for me.

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I walked out of the station and towards Nessie, who was parked a few meters away from the doors.

Ok, I thought as I mounted my motorcycle, putting my helmet on over my head, Sakai says she met the hit man at a divorce support group. She said she was in fact a woman and her name was Shimizu Yoshie. If this hit woman has a single brain cell at all that's an alias.

"Daichi," I called, swinging my head into his office." He jumped, the pen between his upper lip and nose falling to his lap, "give me everything you have on a Shimizu Yoshie."

"Time frame?" He asked. I hummed, tapping the door frame in thought.

"Up to fifty years ago."

"On it babe." He said turning around to his monitors and typing away.

I walked back into my office, looking at my cork board.

"This is a lot of evidence to connect."

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He leaned against the wall of an alley, waiting for the woman to come meet him.