It was a clear and sunny day…which didn't make the Madaraki estate any less menacing. If Detective Kuhou had any choice in the matter, she'd stay as far away from that place as possible. Everything she considered 'normal' had gone straight out the window after being introduced to the head of the Madaraki estate, and on the worst of days, stood in front of a mirror desperately trying to convince herself that everything was normal and her body was exactly as she always remembered it.

Everyone else who knew of Fran's reputation were just as determined to avoid coming here. After getting a visit from a neighboring prefecture about a particularly strange and grisly rash of killings, the chief had personally approached Kuhou, praising her past work on such cases and declared that her expertise in such unusual cases was desperately needed. At least he'd vaguely insinuated that a promotion was due for all her hard work before handing her an envelope contained photographs of some of the most horrifying carnage she'd ever seen.

She'd smiled and bowed and thanked him for his praise and confidence in her and silently cursed the fool as he fled back to the safety of his office. Kuhou gathered her things and every officer willing to meet her gaze wore the same expression as she was sent off to 'consult' with the infamous Fran Madaraki.

Better you than me.

It had taken almost an hour to reach the estate, not counting the time pulled to the side of the road to rest and steel her nerves. The short walk to the door flayed her remaining confidence to shreds, and she shivered as she slowly raised a hand to the bell with the cheery, pink 'Madaraki' label underneath.

Slowly…

Slowly…

"Can I help you?"

The sudden noise made her jump and resulted in an impressive shower of paperwork. The mess was ignored in a vain attempt to compose herself, turning slowly to meet the face she'd seen far too often in her worst nightmares.

It took a few moments to register that the girl standing just a few feet behind her wasn't Fran. She was shorter and had dark hair, but had similar stitch-scar patterns running over what skin could be seen.

"I'm…ahh…detective Rumiko Kuhou. I'm here to speak with Fran…by any chance, are you…?"

"I'm her sister, Veronica Madaraki. Fran's spoken of you before. It's nice to finally meet you."

Veronica extended her hand, and Kuhou felt something strange when she returned the gesture. The girl, Veronica, had almost more scar then skin on her hands, and tiny lumps of calcium deposits under the surface spoke of innumerable broken bones. She had to have received dozens or even hundreds of wounds to bear this kind of damage. The detective took it all in, and only stopped at a tiny, polite 'harrumph' when she absentmindedly tried to pull up the girl's sleeve to see more. Kuhou pulled away, apologizing embarrassedly. Veronica seemed more amused then insulted by her curiosity, thankfully.

"I'm sorry, but Fran is away at a medical conference. She won't be back for at least a week."

"Oh dear, that's…terrible, I suppose."

Veronica took her turn to examine the detective as she bent to gather her things. Fran had made a few offhand remarks regarding the detective as the subject of an experiment or two, and while she didn't have any obvious modifications it was no surprise why she'd visibly relaxed when Veronica had said that Fran wasn't here. Still, she was professional enough to quickly regain her composure and return to the task at hand.

"What did you want to speak to her about?"

"I wanted to consult with her on a case I was assigned, but…"

"I've been involved with criminal cases before…" Technically true, Veronica thought, although she'd been the perpetrator in most of them. "Maybe I can help?"

A few minutes later, Kuhou was sipping tea in a lovely gazebo on the mansion grounds while Veronica flipped idly through the crime scene photographs. The surrounding were beautiful, if a little surreal, having an inkling of what on behind those walls. The largest disconnect was the short and very polite scarred girl that seemed utterly nonplussed by material that had left hardened investigators shaking in horror.

"Well? What do you think?"

"There's something not quite right here…"

"Ah…"

"Oh, I-I mean from a forensic standpoint. The condition of the scene isn't consistent with the kind of force involved."

"How so?"

Veronica slid a photograph onto the table, and Kuhou set her tea aside with a grimace as she leaned forwards. Veronica mercifully directed her attention to a piece of broken, bloody furniture in the background, away from the pile of gore that had been the photographers' focus.

"Well, according to the M.E., the damage was done by blunt force trauma at a level not humanly possible. But according to the crime scene report, this victim was seated at the time of his attack. Now, any kind of impact capable of doing that much damage to a human body would have easily pulverised your average chair. Instead…"

As much as she would've preferred not to, Kuhou picked up the photo for a closer look. In the foreground, a pulped mass of viscera, barely recognizable as once being a human torso, was spread across the floor. But when she set that aside and forced herself to look closely, the splintered-but-mostly-intact chair stood out among the pattern of damage and carnage.

"It's almost like…the force of the impact didn't transmit from the victim to the chair he was sitting on. How is that possible?"

"It's not. I've seen the kind of damage caused by people and creatures with enhanced strength, applied either precisely or during a blind rampage. I've got suspicions about some of the other crime scenes as well, but I'd need a closer look at the bodies to be sure."

"This is amazing! …I have no idea what it might mean, but still…Yes, I should be able to arrange your clearance. If you're willing to help, of course."

Veronica acknowledged her with a nod and popped another biscuit in her mouth. She had a second photo in one hand and was lifting her cup with the other. Kuhou couldn't fathom how such a young, innocent girl could stomach anything while looking at such horror.

"I suppose it runs in the family…"

"Hmm? What was that?"

"Err…Nothing."