Around the same time, Mirei Sugihara stood on the same subway platform as Mishima, completely by coincidence. She’d been in the area early that morning for a seminar at her university.
She stepped off the escalator and onto the platform, when a familiar silhouette caught her eye—a topknot bobbing slightly with every step.
"…Is that Professor Chonmage?"
The words slipped out. That unmistakable tuft of hair—it had to be Mishima.
Just then, two men brushed past her, one of them muttering in a low, urgent voice:
"That’s Takizawa… there he is."
Mirei froze. Takizawa? But I’m sure that was Mishima I saw…
Puzzled, she quickly pulled out her phone and dialed the number Mishima had given her once, just in case.
The figure up ahead—topknot and all—pulled a phone from his pocket just as hers began to ring.
I knew it…
"Professor Mishima? It’s Mirei. Sorry for calling out of the blue, but… I think I just saw you on the platform. I couldn’t help myself."
There was a brief pause, then Mishima’s voice returned, tinged with relief.
"Mirei… it’s been a while. Where are you now?"
"Just behind you. But… those two men that passed me—they looked like they were following you. One of them even said 'That’s Takizawa.' Are they mistaking you for him?"
Mishima’s face tightened visibly from afar, his eyes scanning the station. He immediately recognized one of the men—the same who’d helped steal the pathology samples.
"Thank you, Mirei. That’s a huge help. Please, be careful."
There was a beat of silence, and then Mirei spoke hesitantly.
"But… they called you Takizawa. I’m sure it was a mistake, but—"
"I see," Mishima said, his voice suddenly quieter, more resolute. "Thank you for telling me. But Mirei… please, forget this ever happened. It could put you in danger."
His words only made her more uneasy.
"Then… should I call the police? Or—my father’s in Tokyo today. Maybe I should tell him—"
"No. It’s fine. Really."
The call ended.
Mirei stared at her phone, unsettled by the suddenness of it. Then she quickly called her father, Taizo, and told him everything.
He, having already heard from Asakura, finally began to understand the gravity of the situation.
Mirei’s unease didn’t fade. If anything, it sharpened. And in that moment, a decision solidified in her chest: I have to follow him.
She kept her distance, trailing Mishima and the two men. From the way they moved, she could tell—
They’re following him. I know they are.
She walked in sync with them, doing her best to blend into the crowd. Mishima, likely already aware of the tail, quickened his pace toward the far end of the platform. The sound of an approaching train echoed through the tunnel.
Just as the train pulled in and its doors opened, Mishima glanced back briefly—his eyes passing over the two men. And just behind them… Mirei.
If I call out, I’ll tip them off…
The train doors slid open.
Mishima stepped inside.
So did the two men, each through different doors.
Mirei didn’t hesitate.
If it’s come to this, I’ll see it through.
She boarded the train, keeping a watchful eye on the trio from a safe distance. The crowd helped hide her; the train was beginning to fill with commuters. Her heart pounded.
But she never looked away.
I’m watching, Professor. If anything happens, I’ll make sure the truth gets out.
The subway swelled with bodies, but Mishima’s trademark topknot was still visible.
She kept her gaze fixed on him.
At the Institute Station
Eventually, the train slid to a stop at the research center’s station. Mishima exited, scanning his surroundings with a sharp, practiced eye, then moved toward the turnstiles.
The two men followed at a distance.
So did Mirei.
Now’s my chance.
Closing the distance, she bumped into one of the men—hard—and let out a shrill scream.
"Kyaaah!"
Clutching her bag’s strap, she cried out again:
"These men—they tried to steal my bag!"
All eyes turned. Passengers murmured.
"What happened?"
"A thief?"
A burly man nearby immediately grabbed one of the men’s arms.
"Let go of me!" the man snarled, struggling—but the stranger held him fast.
The second man swore and shoved Mirei aside, trying to flee—but another commuter blocked his path.
He broke free and bolted toward the exit, leaping over the gate and disappearing into the crowd.
Meanwhile, the first man was dragged away by station staff, shouting in protest.
Mirei bowed deeply to her rescuer, then darted toward the exit. One station attendant called after her, but she was already gone.
At That Moment
Mishima had just cleared the gates when he heard the scream.
What was that? He almost turned—but there was no time.
He had to get the frozen tissue samples to the lab.
If he hesitated, the Globia Pharma agents could catch up.
Sticking to well-populated routes, he picked up his pace. If he ended up isolated, both he and the samples might not make it.
Inside his bag was more than evidence—it was a heartbeat of truth. He kept moving, alert to every footstep, every whisper of movement around him.
And he didn’t look back.
