This was an idea that I came up with as I walked out of a Hollywood Videos store. I dunno how or why I thought of this, but oh well. The idea of the story comes from the movie, The Usual Suspects. It is a very good movie and I would recommend it to anyone. It's rated R.
Of course I didn't copy everything because that would be boring, but I wanted to show the main plot. It's a great plot, I'm telling you.
This is an AU fic, meaning that the characters will be OOC, though I will try my best. There are some times when the way some people act will make you go, WTF! But bear with me, it'll make sense in the end.
Also, all comments/critisism/flames are accepted. I would like to know what people think. However, keep in mind that things will make more sense as the story goes on.
Please enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club, nor do I own The Usual Suspects.
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It was late at night. The moon's shape was reflected on the calm waters of the harbor. In the bay, only a few ships were anchored. On one ship, large boxes decorated the edges. It looked to be some sort of freighter, carrying a load of supplies. A man leaned against a jumble of boxes. His hair was matted with water and dirt, having the look of a beggar. Though in his mind he fretted over the look of his features, deep down he knew that there were currently matters more pressing.
Is it…finally over?
Suoh Tamaki's head was swirling with thoughts as he leaned against a large pile of cargo. Weakly, he took out a pack of matches and picked one out. He light the match and dropped it. The match hit the ground, and it ignited a trail along the wooden deck. He was hoping to ignite and blow up the ship, even if he died, as long as the ship was gone, it would be all right.
It would be better this way.
However, the trail that the match was traveling along had stopped. He looked up. From the second floor of the ship, a tall man in a dark coat had stopped the trail with a dump of sea water from a worn bucket. It was a perfectly aimed stream of water, and the fuse went out. The man began to walk down the stairs to where Tamaki sat.
Tamaki made no attempt to move. Even if he had wanted to, his legs had become completely paralyzed, and it was twisted, like a contorted pretzel.
The man stopped in front of Tamaki, and asked, "How are you doing, Tamaki?"
"I…cannot feel my legs…," he said looking up and trying to identify the man.
Although Tamaki was feeling a lot of pain at this moment in time, he made no sound, merely forcing his pain to stay quiet.
It'll be over soon.
The man took out a golden fountain pen and placed it in his coat pocket. He preferred the pen to be near him. When Tamaki saw the pen, he knew who it was. He gasped inward, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but it was soon gone, replaced by resignation.
"How are you Kumori?" he asked.
A small grunt was all Tamaki heard. He asked, "What time is it?"
After looking at his golden watch, the man said, "12:30. You ready?"
Tamaki almost made no noise. A barely audible, "Yeah," was heard by the man.
Then, the man in the coat took out a gun and aimed it at Tamaki. Two shots rang through the night in Tokyo Bay.
The man lit a match and dropped it on the ground. It picked up the trail of the flame where Tamaki's match had left off. He agilely climbed down the ladder to jump onto the deck from the boat, just as it exploded.
The boat went up in flames and the man was gone.
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The next day, Haninozuka Mitsukuni, a Japanese government agent, AKA Hunny, was surveying the damage done in Tokyo Bay. A ship had been blown up, and the police was beginning to find the bodies.
"How many dead are there?" he asked.
"Twenty-seven so far. But there might be more," said a police officer.
"Are there any survivors?"
"Yeah, there's a Chinese gang member and a cripple from Osaka."
"Thank you."
Hunny was no man to underestimate. Although he was small in size, his marital arts skill was dangerous and revered among his colleagues. Upon graduation in college, he had joined his family's dojo, eventually recommended to do work as a government agent in the field where all the action was.
And so here he was.
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Hunny speedily walked through the hospital, led by a few doctors.
He had wanted to see the gang member, one of the two survivors. However, he had received over 60 of burns on his body and wasn't expected to live long. Hunny wanted to try to talk to him before the man's "porch lights blew out."
After putting on the standard hospital scrubs - because the doctor explained that infection spreads quickly - Hunny was finally permitted to see the dying man.
The man was Chinese, and the burns had taken away his ability of speech, and he was blurting out nonsense. Even Hunny, who had learned Chinese from school, could not understand any of this gibberish until he heard-
"Kumori Wang."
"What?"
"Kumori. Wang. Kumori. Wang…KUMORI WANG!" the poor man was yelling.
His heart beat leapt immediately. It was going up and down rapidly, and the nurses were trying to calm him down.
Hunny immediately placed a call, his loli-shota face becoming darker and more solemn. There was somebody who would want to see this.
"Hello, is this the Department of Justice? Haninozuka here. I want Kasanoda at the Tokyo County Hospital right now. Yes, this is… Yes, it will interest him a lot. Thank you."
Kasanoda Ritsu was always interested in Kumori Wang, pursuing him like "that reporter on The Incredible Hulk." Hunny didn't get it since it was probably an American joke.
Soon enough, Kasanoda arrived in scrubs and a scowl on his face. "What the hell is going on?"
With his vibrant red hair and famous scowl, Kasanoda was known as a black horse in his family. Though he was from the most powerful yakuza family in Tokyo, he had gone in a completely opposite direction. He worked for the government in the Department of Justice. His looks still scared people, but they knew that he was a good person at heart.
Unfortunately, the gang member had resumed speaking gibberish. Hunny was getting worried because Kasanoda was looking more and more irritated until…
"Kumori…Wang!" cried out the dying man.
"What?" asked Kasanoda.
"Kumori Wang! Kumori Wang! I saw…the face…of…of…the devil!!"
This was enough for Hunny, who quickly translated for Kasanoda. "Quick! Bring in an artist! We can try to get the man to describe him!"
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Houshakuji Renge was a Japanese Customs Special Agent and she calmly walked into the police station, but her voice betrayed otherwise.
"What are you saying, police inspector! Let me talk to him!" Her voice was raising higher and higher.
"I'm telling you what happened, Renge-san! Listen, this whole deal has turned political. The mayor was here. A government representative called this morning. The other survivor, Ohtori Kyouya, well, his lawyer came in five minutes later with a statement. He's got total immunity. The D.A. agent looked like he got slapped around by the boogeyman."
"But did Ohtori get charged with anything?"
"Yeah, yeah. Like weapons, misdemeanor two."
Renge's face fell, and she moved aside in the hallway to let someone through.
"Look, I credit the D.A. for getting that much. This guy's protected from up high from the Prince of Darkness, no one can touch him," the police inspector continued.
"How much longer until he posts bail?"
"Two hours. But Renge-san, you may want to talk to him, but he won't talk to you. He won't go in the interrogation room. He knows it tapped. Doesn't want his voice recorded."
"We don't have to it in the interrogation room. It'll just be a friendly chat until he posts bail. That's all."
By now, the two were seated in the police inspector's office. The room was filled with papers decorating the desk, but it was all compositions of music. In the corner, a piano was covered with a sheet, more music sheets piled on. It seemed like the police inspector was more interested in music than work, but Renge chose to ignore this detail.
"But where would you talk?"
Renge looked around the messy office. "Here."
"No, no, no. I won't let you Renge-san."
"If it was a dope deal, where's the dope? If it was a hit, who called it?"
"And I'm sure you have you own wild theories surrounding this."
"I'm sure you're familiar with my way of thinking."
The police inspector gave a slight groan. He would never forget the day he met this…otaku.
Then he spoke. "Renge-san. I want to forget about this whole ordeal. The man has full immunity, and his story is all correct. He doesn't know what you want to know."
"Well, I think there's a lot more to his story. I don't think he's saying everything. I want to know why twenty-seven men died on that ship for ninety-one million dollars worth of dope that wasn't there. And most importantly, I want to make sure Suoh Tamaki is dead."
Renge's determination won out. Arrangements were made to bring one Ohtori Kyouya to the police inspector's office.
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Ohtori Kyouya sat patiently in the police inspector's office. He had exchanged everything he knew for immunity. It was the perfect deal, and his eyes looked around the room, staring at all the clippings on the wall, the small cigarette case with mosaic design. He was completely safe, and gave a self-contented smiled when the door opened sharply.
A woman and man walked in. After brief introductions, the woman leaned closer to him. "I want you to tell me everything you know. I want to start from the very beginning. I-"
"Renge-san, the man has immunity," the inspector interrupted with a sigh. Honestly, why couldn't the woman learn anything? Had she not been taught about personal space?
Kyouya looked up at her. "May I have some coffee?"
"Later, after you tell me everything."
"Well, you know, I could tell my lawyer that you mistreated me by not allowing me a simple request, and I could very-"
"I'll get your stinking coffee." the inspector stood up suddenly. "You want one too, Renge-san?"
"Yes thank you." She waited until he had left and stuck a finger in his chest, her eyes glaring. "And most of all, I want to make sure Suoh Tamaki is dead."
The crippled man only looked into her eyes, unmoved, emotionless.
When the inspector returned with the coffee, Kyouya said, "Well, even if you gave me coffee, I could still have you removed from your job. Why, when I worked in that coffee farm out in the West, that was the real thing. Fresh. It was right off the trees. This is shit, but then again this is a police station."
Renge and the police inspector, Takaoji Shirou, looked at each other. Takaoji left the office to let the two speak.
"Ohtori, you're not telling me anything. We want to help you."
"I know, and I appreciate that very much," replied Kyouya pleasantly.
"Please, I want you to tell me everything. And to begin, you'll need to cooperate with us."
"I did. It's all in my statement. I told the D.A. everything."
Takaoji had walked to another room. It was the electronic room. He gave a small nod of acknowledgement to the technician. Then he sat down next to a recording machine and adjusted the dials on a receiver until he heard the voices of Renge and Kyouya.
"I know you liked Suoh Tamaki. I know you think he was a good man," Renge was saying.
"He was a good man. Sure he had some crazy ideas once in a while, but he was a good person," replied Kyouya.
"He was a corrupt cop, Ohtori."
"Sure, maybe fifteen years ago. He is the kind of person who gets duped easily. He probably thought he was doing good by stealing. Anyway, the cops wouldn't let him go legit."
"Suoh Tamaki was a piece of crap."
"Agent Houshakuji, I have yet to utter a single threat, so I believe you are overreacting to this situation. May I remind you-"
"I just want to hear your story!" Renge was getting impatient.
Kyouya tapped a pile of papers in front of him. "It's all here."
Renge flipped through the pages while looking at Kyouya at the same time. "According to this statement, you're just a short-con operator. Run-of-the-mill stuff."
When there was no answer, Renge moved on, "Well, you got yourself a pretty good deal. Total immunity."
"Well, not exactly," Kyouya said. "I might face some time because of that weapons misdemeanor."
"Whatever." Renge gave a dismissive wave. "You know what? The first thing I learned was how to spot a murderer. Let's say you arrest three people for the same killing. In the morning, the murderer is the one who'll be sleeping. You see, he knows he's been caught, so he lets his guard down. Following me?"
"What is your point?"
"My point is that I'm smarter than you. And I'm going to get what I want whether you like it or not." She looked at him triumphantly, but the man looked right back at her.
"Right now, I understand that you have a rather childish way of looking at things."
Takaoji entered the room again. He didn't want the two alone in the room for too long. (I don't mean it like that.)
Seeing the police inspector, Renge started again. "Okay, so I want you to start from the beginning. I want you to go back to the line-up in Osaka six weeks ago."
The man took his time, sipping his coffee and looking at his interrogator. This might be going against the deal, but it'll be fun.
Then he sighed a final time, and began his story.
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Was it ok? Please tell me what you think by reviewing.
Thank you.
