Those Who Are Not Protected - Chapter 1: Episode 2.1

When they arrived at the Prefectural Police Headquarters, Tashino questioned Naomi again. But eventually, he didn’t get any new information.

Once the interrogation concluded and Naomi received permission to return home, Tashino proceeded to the next location.

“Let’s go to his workplace next.”

Mikumo worked at the Aoba Ward Welfare and Health Office. It was very close to the police headquarters, with only the prefectural office building in between.

The Welfare and Health Office was on the fifth floor of the Aoba Ward Office. The receptionist took Tashino and Hasuda to a meeting room in one corner of the floor after they explained their purpose.

Five minutes later, a man around fifty years old entered the room. He said his name was Narusaki and that he was the director.

“I heard that the body of Section Chief Mikumo was found. Is that true?”

Narusaki looked very surprised. If he was acting, then it was a fantastic performance.

“Was it an accident… or, um… suicide?”

“Why do you think of those two options?”

“Because nothing else seems possible.”

“I’m sorry to say, but based on the condition of the body when it was found, both of those seem unlikely.”

“Then… he was murdered? No way. That kind of thing couldn’t happen to Section Chief Mikumo. I know! It must’ve been a robbery gone wrong.

“That doesn’t seem likely either.”

Except for Naomi, who had already identified the body, Tashino couldn’t share any details of the investigation with Narusaki, since they didn’t know yet if he was involved. So, Tashino answered vaguely, but Narusaki’s reaction still felt very dramatic.

“You’re saying it wasn’t for money either?”

“I can’t explain the details, but from the way the crime scene looked, we can’t rule out the possibility of revenge.”

“How could that be…”

“Are you really that surprised to hear Mikumo might’ve been killed out of revenge?”

“He wasn’t the kind of person anyone would hate.”

Narusaki’s words matched what Naomi had said.

“I’ve worked in the same department as him for almost two years, and I’ve never met anyone who cared about others as much as he did. As a section chief and as a person, he was someone worth respecting.”

Tashino looked directly into Narusaki’s eyes. They didn’t seem like the eyes of someone just saying polite things or pretending to be kind.

“Director Narusaki, this is a murder case. Even if there are private matters about Mr. Mikumo that he wanted to keep secret, we must still inquire and investigate. Because any negative part of his life could be a reason someone wanted to kill him.”

“But, detective, with all due respect, Section Chief Mikumo really had no enemies.”

If Tashino kept pushing here, Narusaki might just become stubborn and say nothing more. So, he just changed the topic.

“Mr. Mikumo was responsible for the First Protection Division, right?”

“Yes. Our office has three divisions—Pensions and Insurance, First Protection, and Second Protection.”

“What does the First Protection Division do?”

“They handle public assistance, consultations for single-parent families, and support for hospital births.”

“Did Mr. Mikumo become a section chief because he was skilled at that kind of work?”

“That’s related to the department’s personnel system, so it’s hard to say for sure. But it’s true that he had been working on public assistance for a long time since he joined our office.”

“Don’t ward offices usually rotate people through different jobs?”

“The purpose of rotation is to help staff understand all parts of the organization. But sometimes, through these rotations, we find the right person for the job. If someone is good at pensions, for example, they usually stay in a position that matches their skills.”

Tashino understood this. In the police force, some officers are proficient at handling violent crimes, while others are better at white-collar crimes. These skills usually become clear early on, and once someone is placed in a specialized department, they tend to stay there until retirement. As Narusaki said, their skills become sharper with experience. For example, if Tashino were suddenly assigned to a forensic or administrative job now, he probably wouldn’t do as well as a rookie.

“He was very good at both legal knowledge and practical work. He could even recite the entire Public Assistance Act, from Chapter 1 to Chapter 13. The people who came to our department asked all kinds of questions. If the staff didn’t know how to answer, they would always go to Section Chief Mikumo before checking the manual. Because that was the fastest and most accurate way.”

“Oh, like a walking dictionary?”

“You could say that. He was that kind of person—someone who really knew his job well and was also very kind. I’ve never heard anyone who worked with him say a bad word about him.”

This actually surprised Tashino.

No matter how much respect people give to someone after death, those words still felt like too much praise.

“As a police officer, you’re also part of an organization, so I’m sure you have some experience. Especially foPublic servants, particularly those in higher positions, are more vulnerable to criticism of their personal beliefs and personalities.tion’s rules are absolute. The higher up you are, the more you have to hold back your opinions, and people become afraid to speak freely.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

“It’s not the same as it was ten years ago.”

Narusaki gave a bitter smile.

“In the past, when all conversations inside government offices were kept secret, people in high positions could still speak freely and even make dark jokes about work. However, this lack of transparency was problematic. But now, with whistleblowers and social media, that’s like a suicide bomb, and people are ready to report just anything. This behavior has become normal. Even when talking to junior staff, people often hesitate to speak openly. Those in power strive to avoid making mistakes, which naturally creates an invisible barrier between them and the regular workers. But Section Chief Mikumo didn’t have that wall. He was friendly. He didn’t complain or get jealous and always shared his knowledge openly. That made him a rare kind of boss.”

Narusaki’s voice started to sound emotional. Tashino knew it was probably useless, but he still asked:

“Do you know if anyone at work recently had any bad feelings toward Mr. Mikumo?”

Narusaki shook his head, looking very sure.

“Did he ever have any trouble with the people who came in for help or advice?”

“That’s also impossible. Not just because he was a section chief. Actually, it’s the regular staff who meet visitors. He probably didn’t have much direct contact with them.”

His answers were so firm that it almost made them seem suspicious—but Narusaki’s tone felt genuine, not fake.

“I know your job is to suspect everyone, but I can say for sure—no one would hate Section Chief Mikumo.”

“But the way the killer murdered him was extremely cruel.”

“When there are good people like him, there are also completely evil ones. Some individuals commit heinous acts without remorse, such as harming family members. Some scumbags murder strangers without any remorse. You don’t need someone like me to tell you that, Detective.”

“So, you think it was just some random scumbag who killed him for fun?”

“People like us who work in welfare see just how many evil people there are. There are more evil people than you may imagine. Some individuals resort to threatening doctors in order to obtain fraudulent medical reports and unjustly claim disability benefits. That’s not the worst part. Some even break other people’s arms or legs and steal the aid money meant for them. So many people are thinking of evil ways to cheat the system every single day. To those people, someone like Section Chief Mikumo could be an easy target.”

Narusaki’s voice started to shake with emotion.

“Good people always become victims. What happened to Section Chief Mikumo is a perfect example. It’s heartbreaking. As part of my duty, I’ll have to share this news with the rest of the team. I know many will be just as sad as I am.”

Narusaki lowered his head. Tashino looked at Hasuda. As expected, Hasuda looked confused, waiting for him to say what to do next.

An innocent person facing such cruelty sounded like something straight out of the Bible. But people in Tōhoku had experienced something similar during the earthquake. What people do every day doesn’t always match what life gives back to them.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more. But I really can’t think of anyone who had a problem with Section Chief Mikumo.”