Disclaimer: I do not own Witch Hunter Robin, or any of its characters. Just the plot of this one-shot.
Equilibrium
Work.
The office of the STN-J buzzed around Haruto Sakaki as he slowly – almost despondently – stirred his coffee. Work, he thought again, almost bitterly, throwing the plastic spoon away at the trash receptacle (and ended up missing it by two yards, the spoon finally landing on Kosaka's unoccupied table.) He took a sip of the bitter coffee. It's bloody three AM in the morning – they've been at it for more than twenty-four hours…!
Now, as one is quite acquainted with Sakaki's enthusiasm about his work, one is justified to wonder about the cause of the bitterness of his feelings. An analysis of the situation in which Sakaki found himself in might bring the answers.
The STN-J – as usual – had found a witch with rather violent tendencies, who sported the not-so-respectable hobby of killing all those who approached him indiscriminately, and who had to be stopped immediately. This was as far as normalcy went. What was unusual about the case was that there seemed to be no kind of recognisable pattern in the murders he committed, and he apparently had no qualms about showing himself in public and demonstrating his powers.
Also, surprisingly, there was no record of this particular witch, or the kind of powers he wielded, on the Solomon database. His powers were not something very noticeable, either – it was not even physical. Nobody on the STN-J could actually determine what he did, but it took just his presence, and a narrowed gaze, for people all around him to drop like sacks of potatoes – dead.
That was enough to put him on the top of the STN-J's priorities list.
Michael, unwilling to believe that cyberspace had finally beaten his indomitable hacking brain, had immediately started on trying to figure it out, starting with in-depth analysis of the cases that had already happened. So far – despite the fact that he'd managed to conjure sheets and sheets of data – he had been unlucky on finding any lead.
Karasuma and Doujima – Doujima! Sakaki thought in disbelief – were going through what Michael had found already, trying to make sense of it all. Approximately twelve hours ago, Sakaki had been with them, but then found that he was being more of a hindrance than any actual help, so he had retreated rather reluctantly. Amon and Robin had gone to inspect the scenes of crime, and Kosaka had point-blank refused to let him go with them. "Can't have all our Hunters swarming around over there", he had said. Sakaki's lips twisted in a brief scowl. There's only one person capable of swarming, and that's you, you…
Whatever insult he might have been cooking up in the heat of his anger was interrupted by Michael's voice. "I got it."
His voice was unexpectedly detached, and quiet for a man who had just found the thing he wanted after twenty-four hours of nearly non-stop work. In fact, nobody would've heard him if it were not for the fact that everybody had nearly been straining their ears to have Michael say those golden words. In a sort of semi-pirouette, three chairs whirled around, to be wheeled by their occupants to Michael's workstation.
In that remarkable coincidence that seemed to emphasise the surreal nature of the case they were dealing with, the doors of the STN-J office slid open, allowing Amon and Robin to stride in. In response to Kosaka's eyebrows nearly twisting themselves into question marks, Amon spoke. "It was no good. Despite the fact that there were many witnesses, none of them are alive to tell their story."
Robin lowered herself into a chair, her long skirt billowing slightly. "The autopsy report, according to the police, shows no particular physical or internal damage in the bodies of the victims, though –" Here she glanced at Michael, "– you might be able to tell us otherwise."
Michael grinned, almost embarrassedly. "I'm working on it." A serious expression soon settled like a mask over his face, and he pushed his amber-tinted glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "I did, however, find something that might enable you to catch him today."
The tension in the air thickened.
Michael continued. "I wasted a lot of time trying to find connections between the victims he attacked – there's no pattern… it's like he just kills any random person who happens to cross his path." A deep breath. "But the places the murders have occurred… there's a totally different matter.
"This witch seems to have an affinity for attacking places where murders have already occurred before – random accidents, mugging, what-have-you – and his killing spree starts barely a few days after the death has occurred. I can't point out for sure why he has this compulsion, though he may see it as a need to… I don't know, mark the places where the spirits of the dead have started their journey?"
"Great," Sakaki muttered. "A witch and a psychopath – just the kind of combination we need."
Karasuma frowned. "It seems like a rather weak pattern… but I guess it'll have to do." She looked rather disgruntled, Sakaki felt. Maybe it was because even her scrying abilities had come up with nothing at the scenes of crime.
"You said we can catch him today," Amon said, his stoic voice bringing them back to the focus of the discussion.
Michael nodded. "A road accident – a pretty big one, involving the clash of a bus and a car – occurred quite recently, and not too far from the city centre. I think that might be where he would aim next. Nothing more substantial has occurred recently, anyway."
Sakaki rose from his chair. "Okay, then, give us the location and we'll be on our way."
His enthusiasm was soon dampened, however, by a collection of choice stares from his colleagues. Doujima yawned, and spoke. "In case you haven't noticed, Sakaki, it's three AM in the morning. And of course the guy will be waiting, like a good little witch that he is, for us to capture him." She rolled her eyes with a flourish achieved from long years of practice.
Her young colleague scowled back at her, and was about to come back with a choice retort, when Amon interrupted. Well, a wave of the hand, and a shifting of posture might not amount to a substantial interruption, but since it was Amon was doing it, it was enough to bring Sakaki's and Doujima's potential argument to a screeching halt.
"We're going to start watching the area immediately," the tall man said, eyeing each one of them in turn. "Meanwhile, Michael, try and find out something more about this witch."
Michael straightened in his chair. "Gotcha."
"I have to come too?" Doujima whined petulantly.
"It won't be so bad," Karasuma assured her, as she donned her coat.
"Yeah," Sakaki added. "Besides, it'll do you some good. It's been ages since I've actually seen you on a hunt, you know that?"
"It's been like that for all good reasons," Doujima muttered, watching sullenly as her colleagues holstered their Orbo guns.
If he had been possessed with sudden prophetic powers, Sakaki would've agreed with her.
"It was such a bad idea."
Haruto Sakaki sighed, trying to hold onto his last shred of patience – which wasn't much to begin with, anyway – and glanced at his partner. Doujima glared back at him defiantly. "I mean," she started to elucidate, "I'm stuck here" – a wave to indicate the car they were sitting in – "with you. No Robin, no Amon, not even Karasuma." She threw her hands up, as if in an appeal to the Almighty. "God knows what might happen to us…"
Sakaki scowled. "I'm not that bad, you know." His gloved grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Besides, Mister Amon is just across the street, and Robin and Miss Karasuma are just at the other end. And we've got this." He fingered the Orbo around his neck. "So I don't think we're going to die yet."
Doujima looked at him strangely, but didn't say anything else, much to his relief. He looked out of the cold-fogged window again, across the nearly deserted street. Dawn teased the edges of the dark sky, gold and yellow interspersing with the mid-night blue, as if some divine artist was mixing the colour of dawn on his earthly palate.
At that juncture, Sakaki's train of thought came to a screeching halt. Since when was I poetic…?
"Heads up, people," Karasuma said suddenly. "Somebody's coming."
Sakaki looked up in time to see a large silhouette walk down the street. His hand slowly slid down from the steering wheel and rested on the handle of his gun. He couldn't even hear anyone breathing over the communicator, as the figure finally came into view. The dim light threw sidelong shadows over his face, revealing partially the man's rugged features, smouldering, narrow eyes, scarred forehead, and enormous limbs. His patched trench coat billowed around him, and his scraggly long blond hair swayed in time with his stride as he traversed purposefully along the street.
"What about it?" He heard Doujima whispering into the communicator. "Is he the witch?"
"You bet he is," Michael's voice replied. They could hear him tapping furiously away at the computer in the background.
"Have you found anything about his powers?" Amon asked.
"Not yet," Michael said, sounding distressed. "But I'm getting there. Give me a couple of minutes."
Tense silence reigned again as the five Hunters watched the enormous man continue his walking. Suddenly, he stopped, stooping down and placing his ear against the ground. "That was the place where the accident occurred," Karasuma whispered unnecessarily.
They watched as the man closed his eyes, drawing his brows together in a frown. Suddenly the air around them tingled with inexplicable electricity, and as the man drew his right hand into a fist, the dim lights of the streetlamps went out, one by one.
"I know you're there!" the man yelled suddenly. "And you will join the journey soon, mortals!"
"Out, now!" Amon cried into the communicator. Startled by the unprecedented panic in his voice, Sakaki's hand fumbled toward the toward the door handle. Grabbing it, he pushed it down and out, to open the door.
The door didn't budge.
What the hell…? He pushed harder, but it seemed the further he tried to push it open, more strong did the door's determination not to move become. Was that the man's power? Sakaki was completely nonplussed.
Suddenly, he felt a warm sensation on his shoulder. He turned, to find that it was Doujima's hand. Her eyes seemed to shine with an uncharacteristic intensity. "Try pulling the door back," she said seriously. "It might open then."
Sakaki's eyebrows rose, but he decided to give it a chance. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the door back with all his might.
The door swung open.
Such was Sakaki's amazement and shock that he promptly fell onto the road as soon as the door opened. Doujima nimbly leaped over him and brought out her Orbo gun. Beside her, Sakaki scrambled to his feet, and circumnavigated the car to finally come face to face with the witch. Amon, Robin and Karasuma had him already surrounded, guns drawn. "Surrender, witch," Amon said quietly, his finger moving toward the trigger of his Orbo gun.
The man laughed.
Robin narrowed her now-bespectacled eyes, and fire flared within their green depths. Her Craft blazed a fiery path toward the witch, before –
It turned course.
Robin's usually expressionless face betrayed surprise as she stepped back, and waved a hand to put out her fire. Eyes wide with surprise – and fear, Sakaki fancied – she turned to Amon, her expression clearly asking: How…?
Amon didn't look at her. He raised his gun and fired. As if in slow motion, the green bullet whizzed toward the witch, but suddenly, as if it had hit a barrier, turned and shot back toward Amon instead. Amon twisted to avoid the bullet, which splattered onto the wall behind him. "Michael," he said tersely into his communicator. "What's going on here?"
"I found the witch's power." Michael's voice seemed to be coming from a very great distance, indistinct and wavering. "This guy has the power to reverse reactions – you know Newton's third law? Except, according to this guy's physics, the reaction wins." A bout of static interrupted, almost as if giving time to the Witch Hunters to digest this information. Michael's voice soon sounded again. "That's how he's been killing so many people – apparently his power doesn't stick to just physical limits, but he can reverse biological functions as well. He can reverse your nerve signals, stop your heart beat… it's incredible."
Incredible isn't the word, Sakaki thought, jaw dropping. So that was the why the door of the car had refused to move when he had tried to push it open! "Thanks for informing us so early," Doujima snapped into the communicator.
Sakaki could almost imagine Michael sitting straight in his chair, brow drawn together in indignation. "Hey, you don't know how much trouble I went through to get that information!"
Doujima just shook her head, and the witch grinned. Sakaki shuddered at the maniacal grin, and brought up his gun and fired, almost on instinct. A whole round of bullets escaped the barrel of his gun and shot toward the witch, only to be reversed mid-way. With strangled cries, Sakaki and Doujima ducked as the bullets shot above them and slammed into the wall. "You idiot," Doujima whispered fiercely, as they rose to their feet again.
Sakaki shrugged apologetically, before the witch suddenly closed his eyes, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. A strange feeling exploded within the pit of his stomach just then, and without warning, pain unceremoniously extended its blazing tendrils through every nerve of his body. His hands shook violently, the gun he held clattering.
"Sakaki…?" Doujima extended a hand toward him, before the pain that was plaguing him caught her as well. Giving out a small cry, she dropped to her knees. One by one, the rest of the STN-J hunters gasped as the man played with their bodily functions.
If it weren't for the Orbo, we'd probably be dead by now, Sakaki thought, glancing down at the brightly glowing green vial around his neck. Glancing was all he could do however, for the attempted downward movement of his eyes immediately caused them to roll back violently. Nausea overcame him, and his hand lost grip on the gun, which clattered to the ground. Slowly, Sakaki pitched forward, his vision interspersed with bouts of red and black.
Damnitdamnitdamnit… Swirling darkness, exploding pain… There's got to be a way to get to this guy… Body meeting the cold tar of the road… I have to do something; nobody else seems to be able to… Michael's panicked voice sounding in between longer and longer bouts of static… It's now or never…!
With an incredible exercise of will power he never knew he had, Sakaki reached jerkily for his Orbo gun. His trembling fingers slowly closed over the cold metal, and – feeling as if he had just defied gravity – he lifted the gun a few inches off the ground.
Do it, Sakaki!
A sudden, white-hot surge of – adrenalin? He was not sure – entered his veins, bringing with it newfound strength. His grip on the gun tightened, and rolling to his side, he aimed carefully at the man's chest. You are not going to miss, he thought determinedly. He imagined he was pouring the strength that was coursing through him with the force of a tsunami, into this shot, closed his eyes, and squeezed the trigger.
Pain overcoming him once again prevented him from catching the look of surprise on the witch's face as the bullet resisted his craft and dug into his chest. Sakaki did hear the wet thud of the bullet meeting its target and the man's yelp of pain, however, and with reinforced confidence, Sakaki raised his gun again and fired blindly at the direction where he thought – no, knew – the witch was standing.
One, two, three… the witch finally fell to the ground unconscious, eyes still wide with empty surprise. The gun fell from Sakaki's hands along with the witch, and he rolled onto his back, breathing heavily. Doujima's surprised voice sounded faintly – Is that it? We're no longer under the witch's power, right? – accompanied by Michael's now-crystal clear voice from the communicator – Will somebody please tell me what's going on? – and Sakaki frowned.
Going on…? You… you have no idea…
Darkness soon took over his thoughts however, and he slipped into an exhausted slumber.
Surrealism.
Haruto Sakaki floated on that sensation, feeling as if he were somewhere high, high above the world. Detached, peaceful… he felt like he could stay like that forever, away from the onerous burdens of the earthly life. A place where he would never have to hunt witches again, cope with Kosaka's constant reprimands, deal with Doujima's sarcasm, face Karasuma's gentle chides, listen to that irritatingly loud voice…
Wait, what voice?
It sounded again, echoing jarringly in his personal heaven. "Sakaki?" It seemed to yell. Doujima? "Come on, Sakaki, you idiot, wake up – you've slept enough already…"
Sakaki's eyes opened slowly, like rusted hatches, and his blurred vision finally focused on Doujima's face, which was bending over him. She smiled. "Finally." She straightened. "See, Miho? I told you a little yelling would do the trick."
Karasuma gave a half-disapproving chuckle, as Sakaki sat up on the couch he seemed to be lying on. Apparently he was in the STN-J office, and everybody was looking at him, concerned. He blinked. Had all that been a…?
"No, the hunt was not a dream, if that's what you're wondering," Michael said, grinning. "You were knocked out during the Hunt – out of exhaustion, they said – so the others decided to bring you here for you to wake up."
"Oh." Sakaki ran a hand through his messy brown hair, trying to reorient himself. "So the witch's gone to the Factory now?"
Doujima nodded. "Apparently he had been an inmate in a mental asylum when he found out his powers. He escaped recently, and has been continuing his … practices… ever since." Suddenly her gaze grew thoughtful. "What I don't understand is how you were the only one who was able to shoot him."
Sakaki shrugged. "I don't know myself."
A gentle smile played on Karasuma's lips. "The witch reverses reactions, right? His craft probably reversed your bad luck." The smile widened into a rueful grin. "And ours too, apparently."
Sakaki snorted. "Maybe." Doujima laughed, before she pulled on her coat again, striding toward the door. "Well, if you're feeling okay now, I'll be off to home." Robin smiled at him in a reassuring manner. "Take care," she said, carefully taking the keys of her scooter from her desk and leaving after Doujima. Soon Amon had swept out of the room as well, followed closely by Karasuma.
After the doors had slid closed after her, Michael yawned and glanced at Sakaki. "You sure you're okay, Haruto?" he asked.
"Yeah," Sakaki nodded. "Just a little tired, that's all."
"Well, then, you should be getting home and resting." He gave a sly grin. "Anyway, Kosaka's coming here soon to pick up his things before leaving, so if you don't want to fall under his wrath first thing in the morning, you'd better be leaving."
The statement, however, didn't invoke the type of reaction he had been expecting from Sakaki. The rookie hunter gave an almost hurt, sidelong glance at the hacker. "You want me to leave that bad?"
Michael started. "I didn't mean…"
Sakaki waved his hand dismissively. "It's okay." He gazed thoughtfully at the wall opposite him. "You think what Miss Karasuma said was true?"
His companion laughed. "To be frank, I wouldn't be surprised if it was." He put up his hands in anticipation of a hurt retort. "I didn't mean that in a bad way – I mean, as I see it, your bad luck is necessary for the team."
Sakaki's incredulous glance begged further elucidation.
Michael continued. "It sort of balances out the entire team – I mean, if all of you were excellent and efficient hunters, the whole balance of the team would be thrown off. When rate of forward reaction equals rate of reverse reaction, equilibrium is achieved. That's probably why you were the only one who was able to resist the witch's craft, or why Doujima was the first one to recover from the immediate after-effects of the witch's attacks."
Sakaki's lips twisted in a critical smirk, but he felt himself seeing the logic of it all. Maybe what Michael said was true, after all…
Or maybe it was just Michael's way of preventing him from wallowing in depressing self-pity. Still, there was no denying the logic. Sakaki's smirk widened, and he fell back onto the couch, closing his eyes. "I've changed my mind – I'm crashing here."
Michael chuckled. "Your wish, man. Just remember – you're the one who's going to face the music later today."
Sakaki felt like he didn't care. He didn't care even when the door opened a few minutes to later to admit Kosaka, who promptly went ballistic at the sight of his desk. ("Who's been throwing trash on my desk?") He smiled as he slipped into a fitful slumber.
Equilibrium, indeed.
Finis