Someone knocked at the door. Nobody got up to answer it. Another knock. No one moved. There was a pause, followed by the sound of footsteps moving away.
‘I agree with Suwa’s recommendation,’ Mikumo said, suddenly volunteering her opinion. ‘I think it’s the right decision to keep our position vague for now.’
‘I do, too,’ Kuramae said after her. ‘I’m happy to get on my hands and knees. If we do that, whether the boycott goes ahead or not shouldn’t—’
There was still a way out. Mikami’s resolve was unshaken.
‘That’s all I want to hear about strategy. Sometimes, when all other avenues are exhausted, a new route makes itself known. We’re going to give up on strategy. We’re going to try having some faith in the outside world.’
Kuramae didn’t nod. Neither did Mikumo; he’d expected her to agree.
‘Don’t you see? The force can’t keep itself going properly, not alone. It’s rotting on the inside and no one can even see it. It doesn’t matter that the reporters can’t be trusted, that the world’s corrupted, it’s still better to connect than let ourselves remain isolated.’
Mikami felt a surge of pain in his hand. Without realizing, he’d tensed it into a fist. Mikumo’s hands were white over her knees. Both were trembling. Kuramae let out a long, insubstantial breath. He gave Suwa, sitting next to him, a helpless look.
Mikami relaxed his hand and flexed his fingers.
‘Suwa . . .’
He didn’t respond. Only his neck was visible. He’d curled forwards to stare at his feet. Mikami waited a few seconds. Suwa showed no signs of coming back up.
‘. . . I want you to pretend we never had this talk.’
Mikami stood.
‘You two as well. I’m going next door. All of you are to remain here, on standby, until I get back.’
‘You’re going to abandon Criminal Investigations?’
A whisper. Suwa’s eyes were angled up at Mikami.
‘Okay. You’ve shown us your resolve. But . . . are you sure about what you’re doing? You’re talking about your home ground. Are you really planning to stand by and let the bureaucrats get away with this?’
Mikami turned to the door.
‘This is my home ground now. And no, I don’t plan to let the bureaucrats or Criminal Investigations get away with a thing.’
55
Mikami had always wanted there to be more of a walk. Stepping out of Media Relations, you reached the Press Room before you’d had any time to think.
This time it didn’t matter.
He didn’t hesitate as he pushed the door open. The room was full of reporters. A few looked up but chose to ignore him. They were all huddled together in groups, according to their respective papers. Ushiyama, Kasai and Ami Kiso were there from the Yomiuri. Sudou and Kamata from the Sankei. Horoiwa and Hayashiba from NHK. Kakei and Madoka Takagi from the Asahi. Akikawa and Tejima were both there from the Toyo, the former whispering something to the latter. Utsuki from the Mainichi looked sulky, his feet flung over a desk; Kadoike from Kyodo News was lying down on one of the couches. The room was oddly quiet, especially considering that the majority of the other news agencies were in there, too. Even those that had made a story had missed two. It was hard to gauge their mood; with no outright victors, the Press Room’s usual rapacity was gone. No one tried to speak to Mikami, even though they’d all seen him come in. It was as though they were all saying they had no further need for Media Relations now the three conferences were over.
Mikami spoke up, unwavering.
‘I have an announcement to make. If you could make sure everyone is here.’
He had addressed the Toyo’s desk. Just as he finished, Ushiyama, who’d been sitting ahead of Mikami, got to his feet with a note in his hand. He sighed and gave Mikami a look that said whatever you want. He walked straight by and left the room. Sudou muttered a gruff ‘excuse me’ and started for the door after him. A number more filed by on either side, their faces impassive and mask-like. ‘Just give me a second . . .’ Mikami had started to speak when he heard a voice in the corridor behind him.
‘Ushi, Ushi. Come on, there’s no need to act like that. The press director told you he had an announcement, right?’
It was Suwa. Ushiyama was responding.
He’s only going to request we call off the boycott. I don’t have the time to do that again.
I know, I know. Equable and calming. No point jumping the gun, though, it won’t take a minute. You, too, Sudou. It’s a big thing for you guys.
A few moments later the two men trudged back into the room, Suwa patting them on the shoulders. The other reporters trailed back in behind them, despondent looks on their faces. Kuramae was next. Mikumo followed him. She closed the door behind her and stood with Suwa and Kuramae so they blocked the exit.
Mikami turned back to the reporters. His state of mind was already different to that of moments earlier. He could feel the support behind him.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Tejima spoke first. Akikawa was still sitting next to him, glaring in Mikami’s direction. None of the other reporters tried to hide their aggravation. Is this detention or what? What right do you have to keep us here?
‘If everyone’s here, I’ll proceed with the announcement.’
‘We don’t want an apology if that’s what this is. You can leave.’
Tejima was cold. He’d made the statement as though it was already consensus. Backing him up was the fact that no one had raised an objection. Yamashina was there at the far end of the room, as was Yanase from the Jiji Press, but it was too much to expect them to say anything now.
‘I’m not here to offer an apology.’
‘Well, what are you here for?’
‘I’m here to announce a new policy on anonymous reporting.’
‘A new policy?’ Tejima shot Akikawa a sideways glance. He scanned the room before coming back to Mikami. ‘Okay, everyone’s here. Might as well let us have it.’
Mikami nodded. He felt a wave of tension from behind.
‘From now on, our policy will be based on the principle of full disclosure.’
Everyone froze around him. A moment later, the room burst into uproar. Akikawa spoke up to calm the noise.
‘What’s the condition?’
‘No condition.’
‘You want us to call off our boycott of the commissioner’s interview?’
‘No condition means no condition. We’re hoping you’ll consider doing that, of course, but I’m not going to make it a bargaining point.’
Again the room fell into a state of turmoil. Ushiyama’s voice carried over the others.
‘What brought this on?’
‘The decision was made after careful deliberation. We’re going to make a leap of faith, and trust in your discretion.’
‘This came from your boss?’
‘This came from me.’
‘Right, so it could be turned around? If your boss decides against it.’
‘No.’
There was a pause. Ami Kiso raised a hand, at Ushiyama’s side. ‘So you don’t object to us seeking confirmation from Director Akama?’
‘Not at all. He’s not in today, though.’
‘Mikami,’ Akikawa said, reclaiming the floor. ‘Why the principle of full disclosure?’