Pity on the victim- part 2

Boulangerie — 4:00 PM

For once, Sirius wasn’t dressed like himself.

No long black coat.

No tailored three-piece stitched with authority.

Just a hoodie and jeans — civilian camouflage.

Nilo mirrored him in casual clothes, hood up, hands tucked into his pockets. From the outside, they looked like any other visitors approaching a small corner bakery… if not for the police tape crisscrossing the mint-green door.

The bell jingled anyway.

Inside, the space was drowned in DO NOT ENTER signs, yellow tape stretching across counters and display shelves like cautionary veins.

A moment later, Louis appeared from the inner door, surprise flickering across his tired face.

“The bakery is closed for a few days,” he said quickly. “Come by later.”

Nilo didn’t miss a beat.

“We need to place an order for an engagement,” he said politely. “About a month from now. We live far away, so we hoped to settle it early.”

Sirius shot him a sideways glance.

Since when can you act this well? he thought. Then a small smirk tugged at his lips. But of course… you’re my student.

Louis, standing in the middle of the room, shifted slightly, unsure but willing to hear them out.

“Well… you should know,” he said carefully, “due to privacy and policy, the premises are under police supervision.”

“That’s fine,” Nilo replied smoothly. “We won’t take long.”

“Very well.”

He led them past the taped counters and into the back living room, where the air felt warmer, heavier, lived-in. A kettle sat cold on the stove. A faint dusting of flour lingered in the corners — not fresh, Sirius noted. Old. Settled.

Louis pulled out a pen and a worn notebook, flipping it open.

“Tell me what you’re looking for,” he said, pen poised.

Sirius leaned back into the chair, letting Nilo talk — but his eyes kept moving.

The back door.

The floorboards.

The delivery guy had paused here longer than expected, he noted silently. Not because of planning, but shock — the sudden chaos of the night. A reaction, not premeditation.

While moving his gaze from the room to directly meet Louis’ eyes, Sirius realized something crucial. No other blood or fingerprints were present — only Louis’ and Jung’s. That could mean only one thing.

Before he could voice it, Louis spoke, his tone suddenly casual, almost teasing.

“Are you the groom?”

Sirius blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Wait, he’s talking to me?

Nilo jumped in smoothly, filling the gap. “Yes, he’s my older brother,” he said quickly, reading Sirius’ thoughts better than Sirius could articulate them.

Louis nodded and leaned forward, a slight edge of authority in his voice. “I need your contacts, then.”

Sirius obliged, reaching for his phone. Mostly fake information, of course.

“Sure,” he said easily. “My name is… Kareef Sirius.”

As he set out to give the details, he kept his mind alert, scanning — mentally noting inconsistencies, movements, anything out of place. Even under the guise of a civilian customer, his instincts were sharper than most could withhold.

Detective Room — 6:00 PM

“You won’t believe what we found,” Zoro said as Sirius and Nilo entered, a mix of excitement and tension in his voice.

“Fill the hole,” Nilo replied tersely, not bothering with formalities.

Zoro leaned against the desk, dropping a file in front of them. “Nick Thomas isn’t just a regular customer. 

He was getting money from the rival bakery. His job? Study Louis’ bakery — track daily routines, note who comes and goes, and release rats a day before the annual health inspection.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, letting the words settle. “So, he was a… saboteur?”

“Exactly,” Zoro said. “All to make Louis’ bakery look careless and fail inspection. And if it failed…” His lips curled slightly. “The rival would get the upper hand, of course.”

“This gives us one more reason to suspect a collective murder,” Lihar added, voice steady despite the fatigue. “Seeing that Louis or Jung — or both — could’ve easily acted out of anger.”

“Or more out of self-defense,” Zoro interjected.

“Well, Sirius,” Lihar asked, leaning forward, “why was the delivery guy there?”

Sirius’ eyes flicked up suddenly. “I… don’t know,” he said, tone clipped.

The room went silent, all eyes on him.

“What happened to your theories?” Lihar asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius exhaled sharply. “I mean… the delivery guy might have just witnessed Nick’s death. He ran without actually seeing the culprit. So very easily, it could still be a plot from the other bakery.”

“You’re speaking based on assumptions,” Lihar said, catching the subtle hesitation in his voice, “which you never do.”

Sirius tried to brush it off with a faint, tired smile. “Ah… I’m just tired, in heavy pain. I’ll be back on top of it in the next few days.”

He leaned back slightly, wincing as the tension in his stomach reminded him of the hospital bed he had only left hours ago.

Zoro and Lihar exchanged glances — part frustration, part concern. They knew Sirius’ mind never truly rested, not even when his body demanded it.

“I think we should call it a day,” Lihar said, closing the case file with a soft snap.

Three days later

The next few days passed, and Sirius still didn’t come in.

“Is he still not well?” Lihar asked, concern lacing his voice.

“He strained his body too much, but he refuses to go to the hospital,” Kyrokuto replied, having returned after a few days off.

“We’ll pay him a visit in the evening,” Zoro said firmly.

Nilo was off as well. Without Sirius, he wouldn’t have a chance of infiltrating—even as a cleaner.

Just then, Raz entered the room, expression unreadable.

“Unfortunately,” he said, placing the files on the desk, “the fingerprints on the neck of Nick’s body have been justified. When Louis and Jung arrived, they touched his pulses to see if he was alive.”

Lihar leaned back, processing the information.

“Other than that,” Raz continued, producing the case file, “I have everything here. The case will be closed.”

“Are you… not mad?” Lihar asked directly, probably thinking of the tension Sirius would feel if he knew the outcome.

Raz ignored him. “Bring these signed copies to Cidah, and tell your friend I don’t need his apology.”

“He messed up this time,” Lihar muttered under his breath, a mixture of frustration and resignation in his tone.

“It’s normal for them,” Kyrokuto reassured him with experience.

“I don’t get it,” Zoro said, clearly annoyed. “It’s an obvious murder that cannot be proven, and yet the case is closing?”

“Rather than capturing innocent people, it’s better to leave the culprit free,” Kyrokuto explained calmly. 

“That’s the law.”

“That… isn’t actually how it’s phrased,” Lihar corrected, his voice firm. “The law doesn’t condone leaving criminals free; it simply prioritizes evidence-based justice. You can’t convict someone without proof, no matter how obvious it seems.”

Zoro frowned, processing this. Then a thought struck him. “So… if that’s the case… Sirius knew.”

Lihar looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

“He knows the culprit,” Zoro said, realization dawning in his eyes.

“Think about it,” Zoro said, voice low but urgent. “He never accepts anything based on assumptions. That’s why, before going to the bakery, he seemed unsure. He distracted us with the delivery driver excuse. When he came back, he gave the answer to something he already knew. He knew from the beginning that it wasn’t the delivery guy — he realized it was Jung or Louis, and the other was trying to protect them from blame. Sirius doesn’t see them as culprits… but as victims.”

Lihar let out a slow breath, understanding dawning. “He doesn’t hide things from me,” he said, a rare sense of belonging threading through his words.

“But he just did,” Zoro countered sharply. “Not from you — but from us as well.”

Sirius stepped into the room, dark circles under his eyes, his voice quiet but piercing. “It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of safety. If the department knows about this, you’ll suffer consequences as well.”

Zoro’s jaw tightened. “It’s not up to you to decide who to punish. We are detectives, and we serve justice to those who were wronged.”

“I apologize,” Sirius said, voice low, almost haunted, “but a piece of paper doesn’t buy my conscience… or justice.”

Lihar didn’t agree — not yet. But he trusted Sirius enough to wait so he didn't respond.

Kyrokuto, still standing nearby, furrowed his brow. “What is going on?”

Zoro’s frustration boiled over. “He knows the culprit, but he won’t solve the case… because they did it by mistake.”

“You have no proof that I know,” Sirius said sharply, stepping closer, pulling his bangs back as his piercing eyes locked onto Zoro. “Other than the fact you know me personally — which is going to be a seed worth of testimony in court.”

The room went silent. Even the hum of the lights seemed to pause, as if waiting for someone to break the tension.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear any of that,” Kyrokuto said while leaving the room.

“If not us, then who?” Zoro said sharply. “Nick Thomas was wronged — even if it was by accident.”

Sirius argued back:“He was the one who started all of it. If he hadn’t been there releasing the mice and then gotten caught by Jung, none of this would’ve happened. He got into a physical scuffle with Jung, who accidentally pushed him and he banged against the table,causing his cervical vertebrae to snap — he died instantly. At that very moment, the delivery driver arrived. He only caught a glimpse of the body and ran. In panic, he threw flour on the body and damaged the CCTV.”

Zoro’s eyes were fixed on Sirius, the light from the window reflecting in them. They were a hazelnut brown, warm but hard to read. His hair was the color of brown sugar, soft and slightly messy.

“Then Louis came down,” Sirius continued, “and witnessed it. He panicked for his son, for his father. He washed the body, and — crucially — changed the jacket. It wasn’t white denim, as everyone assumed. It was originally white leather. That’s one of the key details everyone missed. The only real evidence you have.”

The room fell silent. Every eye was on Sirius, who had pieced together the incident with chilling clarity, even in his weakened state.

Lihar’s eyes met theirs, calm yet unwavering.

“Justice was never a rulebook. It is measured by what the hearts of others perceive, and how we choose to honor that truth.”

Zoro sank back into the chair, almost collapsing into it. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands buried in his hair.

Silence hung heavy.

“If they were your family,” Sirius asked quietly this time, his voice low and stripped of edge, “what would you do?”

“I’d burn the world for them,” Zoro replied without hesitation.

He reached for the file Raz had brought earlier.

Signed it.

Both Sirius and Lihar let out a breath they didn’t realize they’d been holding.

“Come here,” Sirius said, pulling Zoro into a hug. “Since when did you get so clever?”

Zoro hugged him back lightly, careful not to press against his wounds.“What do you mean?” he muttered. “I was always clever. You just never noticed.”

Sirius scoffed softly, then glanced sideways.“You jealous, Lihar?”

“As if,” Lihar replied, smiling as he wrapped his arms around both of them. He stood taller than the two, enclosing them easily.

For a moment, there were no detectives.

Just three people who chose each other — and the kind of justice no report could ever record.