Disclaimer: I don't own Get Backers in any shape or form. And I do not profit from this in any way that involves currency. And I have to admit that the title is a rip off of a story of Neil Gaiman's.
Part 1 – Wherein a Coat is Found to Be Missing
It was as much a trademark as his black hat. Maybe even more so, seeing as the hat could come off his head tipped or taken off in greeting, while the coat – that black, black coat, long and heavy enough to be impractical for anyone else who would attempt to move like the good doctor – the coat was always there. There were precious few people who could imagine Akabane Kuroudo going about his business without his coat. The idea of a coat-less Jackal wouldn't even begin to occur to most.
There were three of them. Akabane was a practical man, and clothes got dirty on a job, and while he would have liked to have had a single favorite coat, he had found that it was better to transfer affection to another item of clothing while one was spending some quality time at the dry cleaner's. So there it was: three coats, all expensively, immaculately tailored, were cycled with one in active duty, one being cleaned, and one kept in the closet for just in case.
The week had been busy, and slightly more difficult than Jackal had reckoned it would be (which was a good thing – he had been infinitely amused, and that was saying something). And between one thing and the next, he had found himself using the emergency coat, and, later on, needing to have even the emergency coat cleaned. (The other coat, the one he wore first had, in a series of unfortunate events, been rendered unwearable, except perhaps by the kind of punk musician who went in for things that were artfully, viciously ripped and torn.) It was fortunate that last week's coat was due to be picked up from the cleaner's.
Akabane walked to the dry cleaning establishment from his apartment. He walked most everywhere, finding it inconvenient to drive, or more precisely to be semi-permanently tied to a vehicle (witness Midou Ban's long-term love affair with his Subaru that resulted in a string of inconvenient parking tickets). Besides, he had an easy job of walking up and down urban sidewalks – people tended to keep out of his way, often re-creating the parting of the Red Sea in miniature as the Transporter swept past.
The bell attached to the door tinkled gently as Jackal entered the little shop. It smelled very clean, of detergent and fabric softener, and pleasantly so. Akabane found the scent reassuring, comforting even, as it came with the promise of taking home a nice, freshly-laundered coat. Sometimes it was the little things that made life truly pleasant, even if they did not come with a little blood spatter.
The shop's owner, drawn by the bell, came out of the back room of the establishment and greeted the Transporter with a smile and a polite, sincere 'good afternoon.' Akabane was one of his regular customers, and, what was more, made it a point reward good service with handsome tips.
"It's been ready since yesterday, Akabane-san," he said. "And I took the liberty of redoing a bit of stitching on the hem."
Doctor Jackal's mouth curved into a small, pleased smile. He thanked the man, and waited patiently as he went to fetch the coat from the rack of clean things.
And then something went amiss. Akabane saw it in the way the man's face fell, the increasing panic in the way he flicked through the hangers. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"I trust that there is nothing wrong?" asked the Transporter in tones that clearly indicated that there had better not be.
The proprietor turned to him, helpless and crestfallen. "Your coat, Akabane-san – I can't – It's not here."
End of Part 1