Kelly met Tokuda and his apprentice outside of the observation room. Tokuda was out of breath. His kid had a goofy grin on her face that told Kelly her mentor had been very creative swinging over to the precinct. He smiled inwardly. Under different circumstances, Tokuda might've been participating in a take-your-daughter-to-work day.

"Thanks for coming, Toks," he said.

Tokuda grunted. " What did we miss?"

"Not much," Kelly admitted. He opened the door to the observation room, allowing them to enter before stepping inside and closing the door.

Through a two-way mirror they saw the boy propped up in a chair, his arms resting against the table in the interrogation room. Melia gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. Tokuda swore in his first language.

"Kell," he breathed.

Kelly grimaced, understanding their discomfort. He had seen torture victims who looked better than he did at the moment. His bandaged head lolled to the side. Bruises lined the right side of his face and his nose looked like it had been broken. His left eye was swollen shut. Deep scratches were gouged into his arms, ones he'd given himself with a ballpoint pen. And, lining his forearms were bandages covering the boy's own teeth marks.

"He did this to himself?" Tokuda asked.

"If I wasn't there when it happened, I'm not sure if I'd believe it myself," Kelly said. "Kid looked downright rabid. He broke Dabby's nose and sent Marcum to the dentist."

Tokuda winced. "Why didn't you sedate him?"

"We tried. But he kept having a reaction. Eventually we put him on strong painkillers, and that seemed to numb him into complacency. To be honest, I'm not sure how much you'll get out of him."

Melia pressed a hand to the glass. The boy on the other side stared at nothing, his unswollen eye glazed over. Her brow furrowed in concern.

"Can he talk?" she asked.

"He can scream," Kelly said with a grimace. That was something he had learned early on. "But he hasn't said a word all week."

Melia chewed the inside of her cheek, eyes filled with concern. She looked up at her mentor. "Triple play?" she asked.

Kelly nodded, even though she wasn't looking at him. Triple play was a phrase he started using for their interrogation technique, and was one of the only times Melia chose to use a Zaramian term with Tokuda.

It was a good tactic; Tokuda went in first to rattle the suspect. Then Melia would follow, acting as a balm for her mentor's harshness. Finally, Kelly would go last–acting as the middle ground. Soft enough to build rapport, yet firm enough to get answers.

Kelly and Tokuda had used the classic good-cop bad-cop routine for years, but it became ten times more effective when Melia came along. Most suspects were thrown off when questioned by a child, and her innocence made them question their life decisions. Tokuda had been nervous about it at first, not wanting to expose his apprentice to the worst the world had to offer. There were some cases where even Kelly agreed putting Melia on the other side of the table would hurt more than help, but when she was in there she was effective. Especially when the suspect was a father or an older brother. Kelly knew she didn't do it on purpose, but Melia shamed suspects by reminding them of what they were supposed to be. While she rarely garnered a full confession, her presence sent enough of a shock that made grown men spill everything to Kelly.

When Tokuda agreed to come down for an interrogation, Kelly had planned on him and Melia using the triple play. But, to his surprise, Tokuda shook his head.

"Sakki de koitsu wa iku," he said, pointing with his thumb and Kelly. "Mitai mono ga aru no de, koko de matterou."

Melia frowned, but nodded. Kelly opened his mouth to object. He didn't know what Tokuda had said, but whenever he used words like "koitsu wa" or "kono yarou" in front of him, he was usually talking about Kelly.

Sure enough, Tokuda glanced in his direction. "Alright, Kell, you go first."

"What?" Kelly protested. "Why me? You're better at this part. Besides, I've been trying all week and got nothing."

Tokuda shrugged. "Humor me. I need to see what he's been like before I go in there."

"Shouldn't we send Melia, then?"

"No!"

Kelly jumped. Melia did, too. They stared at Tokuda, who looked stiff. Kelly wondered what had upset him about that. While uncommon, there had been times when they decided to send Melia into an interrogation first, as a way to break the ice. But Tokuda looked like Kelly had offered to put her on the front lines of a war zone.

Then, with a sinking feeling, Kelly remembered the effigy. Suddenly he understood Tokuda's nerves. He could only imagine how he'd feel if someone did that to his daughter. If it were him, he'd feel helpless, outraged, and fiercely overprotective. Knowing that this kid was tied to the Legion, the last thing Tokuda would want would be to leave his apprentice alone with him.

Melia hesitated, then touched his arm. "Oyaji?"

Her eyes were wide and confused. Kelly's stomach flipped as he realized Melia didn't know. For whatever reason, Tokuda hadn't told her she'd been burned in effigy.

Not whatever reason, Kelly thought. Being burned in effigy was disturbing. Kelly doubted Melia would understand it, but knew she'd likely be traumatized. Tokuda hadn't told her for the simple reason that, whether he chose to accept it or not, he was a dad.

Tokuda closed his eyes, then let out a measured breath. "Warui, na," he said, resting a hand on her head. Then to Kelly, "I know it's not what we normally do, but I need to see how that boy reacts to you. You know, without..."

His voice trailed off. Kelly didn't need him to finish. He knew Tokuda wanted to observe without having to worry the boy would scream insults at Tokuda or lose his mind over seeing Melia. If the Legion knew she was training under Tokuda, seeing him face to face could send the boy into a frenzy directed at both master and apprentice. While Kelly didn't like playing the bad cop, he understood why Tokuda needed him to be a buffer in the interrogation room.

He sighed. "Alright, I'll go. I'm guessing our goal is to see what he knows about Miliare?"

Melia flinched at the name. Tokuda nodded.

"I know he won't say much," Tokuda said. "But I think hearing what you have to say might provoke a reaction out of him. At least enough to give us more than what we have now."

Kelly nodded. He hadn't mentioned Miliare before because a part of him still felt guilty. He remembered Tokuda had Miliare bound and gagged, coils wrapped around his throat for the finishing blow. Kelly had talked him out of it. He figured it would be better to leave Miliare where the authorities could find him. He was beaten badly enough that he could die from his injuries, which Tokuda hoped would happen. Kelly, on the other hand, hoped Miliare would live. In his mind, it would be better if they did things by the book. He'd ignorantly forgotten that Miliare rose to power because he had paid off officers, judges, and politicians.

Now, because of that naive faith in the justice system, Miliare was back. Tokuda blamed himself, but Kelly knew this one was on him.

Well, he thought, I guess now's as good a time as any to start making that right.

He took a deep breath, then stepped out of the room.