Chapter One: Beings of Testosterone Origin
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Mystery
Warnings: Spoilers for Episodes 3, 17, and 21. If you are wary, turn back now. Also, prostitution, mild sexual situations, and language.
Description: Before Weiss, Yohji Kudou was a detective. His partner was a pushy, rude woman named Asuka. A girl goes missing, and they're hired for the job. They're world is turned upside down as the case evolves from a missing person, to a prostituion ring, to murder.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kudou Yohji, Asuka, Liott, Kusumoki Masataka, Nambara Tamaki, or Hirooki Hiroshi. That's mainly the whole cast. ^.^ Sasuki Megumi and Omotoyo Gaki are not actual characters within the series, and they belong to me.
Author's Notes: The main character in this story is Asuka, followed closely by Yohji. I don't believe her last name was ever mentioned, so I've given her one. ^.^ (Slight update: I was told her surname is Murase, so I'm going with that.) This is not one of those She's-Mysteriously-Still-Alive things. Her character intrigued me, and I wanted to delve in further. This story takes place before the series, before Yohji even joined Weiss. Also, I'm going on the idea that Neu is, indeed, Asuka.
I've taken liberties on the basic story that Yohji tells Maki in episode 3 about Asuka. As in, the events most likely did not happen and are definitely NOT official (until the end, of course). Most of the dialogue isn't even official until later, near the end.
As for spelling, I'm aware that Yohji can Youji, Yohji, or Yoji. I've picked Yohji, because I think it's prettiest and I'm most familiar to it (though I've no idea where the 'h' is from). In similar cases, Liott can be Ryot, Riott, Lyot, Liot, Riot, and numerous other ways. Asuka I've seen as Aska or even Azuka. I've chosen spellings on matters of personal preference and some base on the hiragana and kanji used in the Weiss manga, An Assassin and White Shaman.
Even though you (probably) already know the ending, this is my take
on the relationship between Yohji and Asuka, and the events leading up
to Liott. I hope you'll enjoy the story and the way I present Asuka. I
just hope I get Yohji right. ^.^
When it all went wrong,
And we made mistakes.
I'm sorry for things I forgot to say,
But it won't be long,
And it'll be okay.
--Middle of Yesterday, Our Lady Peace
Another day at the office. Wonderful. There hadn't been a case in weeks. Not any good cases, at least.
Asuka sighed, setting down her purse in the same old leather chair, by the same old stack of papers. She flipped the light switch, frowning in annoyance at the light bulb suspended from the ceiling by a wire. It wasn't even a real lamp. Couldn't Yohji get anyone to put an actual light...thingy in? Better yet, she mused, couldn't he get off his lazy ass and do it himself?
She plopped into the chair behind her desk, taking time to spin around for a moment. Asuka propped her feet up, frowning thoughtfully. She scanned the room, looking at the awful disarray of papers, file cabinets, and take-out boxes courtesy of her partner. And there she was, smack-dab in the middle of all of it. It was almost like some cheesy American detective movie, only in color.
"Yes, Asuka, this is your life," she grumbled. "Messy, boring, and-"
"Hello, Asuka," a sluggish drawl greeted her. Asuka could almost hear the expression her partner wore. It was like talking on the telephone and knowing the other person is smiling. Only, he wasn't smiling. Yohji grinned lazily from the doorway, slumped against the frame as usual. And there was that goddamn cigarette he simply couldn't live without. "Talking to yourself again? I told you, stress is bad." He shook his head with a brief 'tsk.' Yohji smirked, tossing his hat on the coat rack outside the door. Another thing that reminded her of cheesy American detective movies--his hat.
"Hello, Yohji," Asuka raised an eyebrow at him as she spoke, returning his smirk. "No, I was just talking to my computer. He's a bit more lively than you and Mr. Cancer Stick over there."
"Ah, but Mr. Cancer Stick is friendly!" Yohji exclaimed in a teasing tone of voice.
"I'm sure. And you need Mr. Breath Mint. I can smell you from here," she mocked, tossing him the little tin she kept in her drawer. Abruptly, her tone and expression changed. Asuka's face grew void of any lingering mirth or sarcasm. "We've got a new case, Kudou-san. There's a girl missing. Her name is Sasuki Megumi."
Kudou. She was serious now. Yohji felt like pouting at her, just to see how she reacted. Ah, but then again, there was a damsel in distress! He beamed, walked over to her, and pushed her feet off the wooden desk. Yohji leaned on the rickety piece of furniture, arms crossed and cigarette loosely dangling from his lips as he spoke. "Who reported it?"
"Hey! Ass!" Asuka fumed at him and kicked his shin under the desk, "And it was the girl's boyfriend, Omotoyo Gaki, that reported her."
"Ow! Asuka! That hurt!" Yohji whined, instantly balancing himself on one, extremely long leg to rub his injured shin. He steadied himself with one arm on the surface of the lunk of furniture separating him and the Shrew.
"Pansy. That's what you get."
Yohji watched Asuka from his office. He had to admit, for such a pain in the ass, his partner was pretty. Not gorgeous or anything, but pretty. It was kind of hard not to see her. She had an appealing, Asian face: it was round, and had just the right skin tone. On top of that, nice lips and large, brown eyes. Kind of like a cow--how ironic. He'd called her a cow, among other things, plenty of times. He smirked, shuffling through some papers before tossing them in a drawer. They were probably important. Yohji didn't care.
His thoughts were disrupted when she stood and turned off her dinosaur of a computer. Yohji blinked. "Leaving already?" he called, again becoming the lazy, smoking playboy he was infamous for being. For a moment, Asuka disappeared from view. When something hit him in his face, he understood. His hat.
"It's my break. I'm going out for coffee. You're coming," she commanded him, hands on her hips. Asuka watched Yohji in slight amusement as he freed himself from the mess any man would be proud of--also known as his office. Kudou Yohji was by far the most disorganized person she knew, and she knew many, many disorganized people.
"Yeah, yeah. Lemme get out of here." He sounded almost annoyed as he spoke. Maybe he'd clean. Asuka shook her head. His office was worse than hers. "I know a great coffee shop," he said in a tone that resembled sarcasm. Yohji smirked at her, finally giving up on getting out by conventional means. Instead, he climbed over his desk. A shoe print on a file never hurt anyone, right?
"You look like a monkey, and I'm not stepping into that crummy little place!" Asuka's eyes widened dramatically. Yohji slipped his sunglasses on, smirking. He always wore sunglasses. It was just a mystery of the universe. Once, he'd boasted that his eyes would hold girls spellbound if he didn't. Well, girls other than Asuka, that is. She honestly didn't care.
Asuka continued her rant, "I can't believe you take dates there! It's just awful! It's not clean and the coffee tastes bad and--Get that cigarette out of your mouth! It's gross!"
"Yes, Mother," Yohji teased, very tempted to burst out laughing. He loved to rub her the wrong way. It was just too funny to watch her go off. Asuka, the Timebomb. He shoved the remains of Mr. Cancer Stick II into the ashtray, rolling his sleeves up. "Where would you have us go?"
"A nice, classy cafe. I'm sure you can afford it. Somewhere...like this," she pulled out a book of matches, the title of the upscale restaurant scrawled in fancy kanji.
"We're private investigators, Asuka! We aren't exactly wallowing in cash!" Yohji exclaimed and stared at her. So much for rubbing her the wrong way; he was just delivered a quick kick to the wallet. After all, he couldn't deny a lady's wish, even if she was just his pain in the ass partner.
"I can't believe you talked me into coming here."
Yohji sat back in his chair, watching a disgruntled Asuka sip her coffee. "I can't, either. But this 'crummy little place' has a wonderful view."
"Of what, Kudou?" she grumbled, "I don't see any view."
"That's because you can't look at it."
"And why not?" She blurted. Asuka slapped both hands on the table, glowering at Yohji from under her bangs.
"She's behind you," Yohji quipped easily, raising one eyebrow. "I don't think you'd like to see her, but if you swing that way..."
"I'm not a homosexual, Kudou!" Her outburst drew stares from other customers, but Yohji grinned and waved it off.
"Really? I mean, you hardly ever talk about guys..." He was testing her patience. Asuka knew it. But for some reason, she just couldn't ignore him. He knew how to get under her skin, and damn him, he just seemed to stay there. That cocky smirk, those sunglasses, the ever-present smell of nicotine wrapped in paper... The very essence of the man, her libido driven partner, right there in front of her. And it was disgusting. But she always ended up here with him. He was like an aphrodisiac on legs. An annoying one.
"No man is interesting enough to talk about, Yohji," Asuka answered coolly, sliding back into her chair. Why did she let him do this to her? How did she always end up in these situations? "I'm a loner. A strong, independent woman. I don't need a man." Hah, take that, Kudou.
"So says the lesbian."
"GAH!"
"One for Yohji! Zero for Asuka!" he chirped cheerfully.
"Is this where she lived?" Yohji peered at the house from over his sunglasses. It was a nice place, small and clean. White walls that matched every other tiny house in the neighborhood. It was completely different from his cabin. His cabin was his haven, his castle, so to speak. This..was a clone. "How can you tell? It looks like every other house on this street."
"Um, I have the address, maybe? I thought we'd start here," Asuka glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. He was staring at her again. Suddenly, she was no longer annoyed by his sunglasses. His eyes were eery, like they could just see past the facade, like they knew her darkest fears and secrets. Asuka was glad the lenses were there, acting like barriers. She shivered as she climbed out of his car. Creepy eyes. Eyes that induced the deer-in-the-headlights syndrome. "You coming?"
"'Course. I just don't see why anyone would live here," Yohji shook his head, climbing out and locking the car. They approached the door, taking careful note of details. The lawn wasn't as well-trimmed as the others by a long-shot. He frowned, carefully inspecting the doorknob. Such a small object could reveal many things to a trained eye. "There's a thin layer of dust. This door isn't used very often."
"And neither is the rest of the house, by the looks of it," Asuka motioned to the window. There was very little furniture, and it seemed to be spotless. "I smell a rat."
"And would his name be Omotoyo Gaki?" Yohji turned and grinned at her.
"Not exactly. Can you get us inside, Yohji?" She leaned against the wall, watching him. They didn't have a warrant yet, but something about this case just screamed "urgent." Yohji knelt slightly, taking out a thin metal object. A lock pick. He slipped it in the key hole, his expert hands maneuvering the pick quickly. Asuka got the feeling picking locks wasn't the only thing those hands were experts at. After a few minutes, Yohji stood up and grinned.
"We're in."
"I don't want to know where you learned how to pick locks," Asuka shot him a look. Suddenly, she was feeling slightly hostile. She stepped inside, flipping on the light switch. Spotless, just as she had thought. There was no clutter, no trash on the floor. Asuka felt like she had just walked into a hospital room, only dustier. Everything was covered in a film of dust.
"Kind of creepy, isn't it, Asuka?" Yohji looked around, tension clear in his voice as well as his stance. She nodded, frowning. No pictures, nothing personal anywhere. Nothing even slightly decorative.
"She hasn't been living here. Not a personal item in sight. Only furniture... Why own a house if you don't live in it?"
"I've got a better question," Yohji informed her as he walked into the hallway he figured led to the bedroom. "If she wasn't here, where was she?"
Asuka pursed her lips, wandering into another room. "I found the bathroom. A man's been here."
"How can you tell?" He walked in the bathroom, blinking. No shampoo, shower gel, lotion. Not even a toothbrush. That was very odd.
"The toilet seat's up," she gestured to the toilet. "Unless Omotoyo-san isn't telling us something, Megumi's had a male guest."
Yohji chuckled, crossing his arms. He scanned the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. In this case, just plain anything. Anything but Asuka; he sighed. "I'm going to check her closet."
"Good luck. I'll take the kitchen."
Yohji and Asuka had found nothing in Sasuki Megumi's house. It was almost as if she'd run away instead of gone missing. Well, Yohji had found something. A card, for some club. He'd put it in his wallet after telling Asuka he'd hold on to it for 'safe keeping.' Safe keeping, indeed.
She rolled her eyes at the thought of Yohji. He was lazy, and annoying, and he smoked. There was nothing more disgusting than kissing a man that smoked. Not that she'd ever kiss Yohji. That was absurd. His hair was always messy, and it was almost as long as hers. And those eyes. Those hypnotic green irises. They were just scary at times. The depth there, it wasn't like the man at all. Or, at least, the man he pretended to be.
Too much thinking about Yohji. He wasn't worth the effort. Asuka shook her head, tapping her chopsticks on her table. She was eating take-out again. It was cheap, but it really wasn't that bad. The rice was a little overcooked, only a minor offense. She could afford it, and that was what mattered.
Her mind drifted from her food, and thankfully from Yohji. The Megumi case was eating at her. Of course, there were other suits; cheating husbands and tracking down old girlfriends were the norm. Even missing persons. But this case intrigued her, partially because of Megumi's house, but also because Omotoyo-san hadn't reported Megumi to the police. Well, not that she knew of.
Tap, tap, tap. Asuka blinked and sat her chopsticks down. She hadn't realized that she was still fidgeting.
But why hadn't Omotoyo-san reported Megumi? That was suspicious. An
interview was in order.