Suspicion (2)
Clink, clink, patter patter...
The rich aroma of premium coffee wafts to Spade's nose. The captain's office isn't particularly spacious. From beyond the curtain dividing the room, Captain Rahe's humming drifts over.
The office boasts a remarkably modest and serene interior, but Spade, seated right in the middle, can't calm down at all. Her back ramrod straight, she's tense as can be.
Captain Rahe is a hero among heroes in the domestic hero industry—no one hasn't heard of her. To Spade, she's practically an idol.
Of course, they've crossed paths often enough during meetings or get-togethers, chatting together now and then. Even so, being summoned privately like this still fills her with nerves she can't shake.
"Sorry to keep you waiting so long, Spade?"
"N-no, not at all!"
"Hehe, try not to be so tense. I brewed some coffee... but compared to Apple's, it's still lacking. No matter what I do, I can't match her brew."
"Th-this coffee is plenty... it smells wonderful too...."
Spade receives the coffee cup from Rahe. She takes a light whiff and sips. Spade isn't much of a coffee connoisseur, but even she thinks this is more than excellent.
Perhaps to help her relax, Rahe starts some light chit-chat with a friendly smile. How's life in the unit? How's Check's training? She looks in great shape lately—what's the secret?
As Spade answers each question one by one, her tension gradually eases. Noticing this, Rahe decides it's time and shifts to the main topic.
"Spade, before we get into it, let me ask for your understanding upfront. What we're about to discuss might trouble you a bit... but it's unavoidable. I hope you can accept that."
"I-It's fine! Feel free to say whatever..."
"Good. Then..."
Rahe clasps her hands, straightens her posture, closes her eyes, and opens them again. In that instant, the atmosphere shifts. The warm, soothing vibe from moments ago vanishes, replaced by a prickling intensity that feels like it could pierce the skin.
Spade feels goosebumps rise and tenses up again. Cold sweat trickles down her back.
"Spade. The reason I called you today is... first off, I have some questions about the Lesserart incident."
The villain organization Lesserart. Not long ago, Spade and the entire 7th Squad had been tasked with its annihilation. Back then, Spade had faced off against what seemed to be the leader, only to let them slip away right before her eyes due to interference from an unidentified sniper.
Spade had felt the sting of her failure deeply. So when Rahe brought it up, she thought, Here it comes.
"If it's a reprimand... I'll accept it gladly."
"No. I have no intention of reprimanding you. That's not why you're here. There wasn't enough intel to begin with, and if there really was a sniper like you described... you'd be lucky to have made it back alive."
Rahe immediately dismisses Spade's assumption. Not a disciplinary summons for that failure, then. Spade lets out a small sigh of relief.
But that was a naive judgment. She couldn't let her guard down yet.
"Spade. I've reviewed the report you submitted in detail. Even so, some doubts linger."
"...Doubts...?"
"Yes, Spade. The sniper you reported—headquarters finds it hard to accept that someone of that caliber slipped past our radar."
Villains are finite in number, and true top-tier talents among them are even rarer. Even if somewhat inexperienced, a sniper who could match or surpass an A-rank hero like Spade? And one with such a specialized ability? The headquarters intel department would have tracked them down.
Which led headquarters to raise another possibility.
"Spade. Headquarters suspects you might have abandoned the mission midway for some reason."
"...!? No way...!"
"I put it mildly as 'abandoning,' but more bluntly... they wonder if you let them go on purpose. Say, after receiving some kind of offer."
Spade nearly shoots to her feet on impulse. But Rahe pins her in place with a mere glance. Like a frog before a snake, Spade's body freezes under the overwhelming pressure from Rahe's eyes. Unable to move, she listens as Rahe presses on.
"Personally, I don't want to believe that. Doubting a comrade, my subordinate—it's no fun. And I trust in your integrity, Spade."
"But thinking about Club... and the villain who kidnapped her, I can't help but suspect."
"Abyss and Villain No. 13 knew our 7th Squad's internal affairs far too well. In the sequence of events—when Club was taken, and even when they offered to return her—they always picked days and times when I was absent."
He—Villain No. 13—knew the 7th Squad's internals inside out. He'd even emailed threats, warning against rash moves because they were under surveillance. They'd scoured the 7th Squad base, checking for bugs, cameras, any devices. Nothing.
Maybe magical surveillance? That possibility was ruled out too. Rahe's instincts said no.
That left only one option. No devices or magic. Human surveillance. A mole in the organization.
Spade's back grows instantly damp. Her body rigid with tension, she tries to muster a defense, but her mouth and tongue feel frozen—no words come.
In the meantime, Rahe sets down another stack of papers. Spade's old report from the day Apple was kidnapped by Villain No. 13, Spade deployed at his request, and successfully rescued.
"This report—you and Apple wrote it together, right? I was shocked. Because I have no memory of receiving it."
"...What do you...?"
"Exactly what I said. It was written, but never came across my desk. More precisely, it was buried in a pile of meaningless reports that didn't need my review. Whether by mistake or intent, I don't know... but it delayed my confirmation. If I hadn't double-checked, I'd never have seen it."
An important report submitted amid others, misfiled as low-priority by accident... It happens. Everyone makes mistakes.
But lace it with suspicion, and it changes. What if it was deliberate? You can't skip submitting reports entirely, but if you don't want the contents seen? Hide it in the shuffle, feigning error.
A perfectly reasonable suspicion.
In reality, Apple had done it, unknown to Spade. But her memories of that time were fuzzy for some reason, leaving Spade unable to respond directly to Rahe.
Taking her silence as affirmation, Rahe continues.
"This just fuels the suspicions, Spade."
"You were with Club during her kidnapping too, on that mission together. Just you, Club, and Villain No. 13 in an isolated space."
"Our internals leaking out, the Lesserart mission failure... it all builds the doubt. You make it impossible not to suspect, Spade."
Rahe unclasp her hands from in front of her, rests them neatly on her knees, and stares straight at Spade with solemn gravity.
"Spade, let me ask you."
"Are you... by any chance, colluding with villains?"
Those sharp, just, upright eyes—having faced down countless heinous criminals—fix on Spade. Unable to find a retort, Spade just rolls her eyes in panic, tense as ever.
Spade agonizes. How, how do I defend myself? It's not me. It can't be.
But Rahe's words are logical, her suspicions so airtight that even knowing her own innocence, Spade feels herself half-convinced of guilt.
How? What do I say?
After agonizing forever, Spade finally speaks.
"I...! No, Captain Rahe...!"
The words that tumble out after all that deliberation—a cracked, feeble denial. Nothing more.