After he had turned in his satellite phone, then, when he was on the boat that would bring him back to Rio de Janeiro, and what could have been done if they called him anyway? He was on his way home at that point.Īpproaching the bed slowly, he allows his gaze to travel down Ichijou's too-still body. Minori's eyes are on his hands, though, clenched into fists still at his side, and her gaze is terrifyingly kind and sympathetic when it finally rises to his face. 'How long?' His voice is steady when he speaks. Ichijou isn't dead, and his sister is right here, and setting the hospital room on fire won't do anything to solve the problem. Did they worry about how he would take the news? Did they worry about what would happen if-Ĭlosing his eyes, Godai draws a deep breath and holds it until the power trying to crackle and crawl along his nerves dies back down to a manageable level. He wonders if Tsubaki and Sakurako and Jean and Enokida sat down and debated who should go in Ichijou's place. It wouldn't have been the first time that Ichijou missed meeting him at the airport because an important case came up, after all, and the absence of anyone wouldn't have sent that same shiver of fear through his body that the presence of someone else does.

He wouldn't have known for a few more hours-not until after he'd gone home, showered, scrounged up clean clothes, prepared dinner, and waited for a man who wouldn't be coming. If there hadn't been anyone there to meet him at the airport, it would have been different. He knew when his eyes scanned the crowd and found Minori instead of Ichijou. He knew as soon as he stepped off the plane.

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