Disclaimer-I do not own Shaman King. If I did, I would immediately change the manga's cheesy ending.
This takes place ten years after Funbari no Uta. Also in this story, Ren and Jeanne never hit it off and have Men. This story is based off the manga, not the anime.
Parliament was in session.
He could tell by how the clock he was leaning on reflected the Palace of Westminster's light back. Those large time hands ticking slowly against the yellow backdrop until it hit the middle and stopped for a second. The thirteen ton bell hidden behind its walls suddenly activated and he reveled in the feeling of the vibrations on his back and the ringing reverberating in his ears.
It signified it was midnight.
Lyserg held a Winston to his lips before breathing in deeply and exhaling a cloud of smoke two inches from his face. Morphine was on his shoulder and was looking at her master, with worry. Zeruel sat at the tip of the tower, and the Spirit of Fire did not stir as it sat quietly in the Thames River and stared at the pedestrians walking on the Westminster Bridge.
The Englishman looked out towards the the buslting city of London and watched as the city's lights shined brightly amidst the darkness of night as if making an artificial galaxy of sorts. Lyserg observed his green and black checkered scarf blowing directly behind him and leaving a cold sting on his skin.
"Winter must be coming," said the dowser as he inhaled his cigarette once more. Morphine simply looked at him with her knees tucked into her chest and pondered on how time had gone by so fast. How this boy had suddenly turned into a man that seemed to be weary all the time.
Lyserg began to walk towards the edge of Saint Stephen's Tower, though most called it the "Big Ben". He kindly asked Morphine if he could have a moment of privacy and watched as she flew towards Zeruel's side and observed the full moon.
Lyserg knew that it was illegal to be up on the Big Ben without permission, though knowing this law did not stop him in the past and that it never would. The only ones who came up here were the clock's engineers and repairmen and he was much too small to be noticed by the people below. Besides, it was on cold nights like these that put him at ease when his insomnia kept him awake.
'Th inconstant moon.
Staring at the pale whiteness of that great orb in the sky reminded him of a time when he was enshrouded with the pale whiteness of the Great Spirit. But one thought tends to lead to another thought. From the Shaman Fight to training in Hell. From surviving the Plants to encountering the Shaman King. And the Shaman King led to…
Hao Asakura.
Hao Asakura led to the word ultimatum.
Lyserg stopped his cigarette a few inches from his mouth and pondered on that one English word descended from a Latin root.
The Demand.
He recalled that moment when he and the other four elemental warriors faced Hao in an epic fight between the earth and the universe. Once the stalemate started, he remembered when a look of anger was present on Hao's face.
The dowser then remembered when a look of relief occurred on his own face.
This was the deal, according to Hao Asakura, official Shaman King and therefore the could-be destroyer of the human race. The Shamanic Society was given five hundred years to "save" the world. If by the next tournament, the world was not as Hao saw fit, Hao's vision of a society run by shamans with he as the head would be made a reality in the blink of an eye.
All of man's hopes, struggles, ambitions, passions, and dreams all down the drain in one second.
…….
…….
We can't do it.
……
Lyserg dwelled on it for a moment.
He knew this would happen.
He was right to call us naïve.
I…we….none of us were thinking of how reality actually works. Ask five teenagers if in five-hundred years we'll stop starting wars, stealing from hard workers, fighting over little differences like religion and color of skin, and finally stop its greedy consumption of earth? Of course they'll say yes, five hundred years seems like a long time to a bunch of kids.
He shivered as a gust of wind hit him in the face.
Earth has been our home for thousands of years. It was seventeen years ago I heard that murderer make his deal. Well, here I am now, seventeen years later after. I'm thirty-one and what do you know? There are ongoing genocides and no nation on earth is giving a damn about it. There are people starving to death and yet nations seem more concerned with their military prestige than its fellow human. The ice is melting, forests are burning, animals are dying, yet they say we're not polluting what the Great Spirit has given us? Oh, great, the humans might not even need Hao to become extinct. At this rate, we might just end up blowing ourselves up.
Lyserg exhaled a puff of smoke once more before saying aloud,"Four hundred and eighty three years to go mankind. Can you make it?" His face broke into a frown.
At age five, he promised to make the world a better place by becoming a policeman and enforcing justice. At age seventeen, he entered City University London and graduated at age twenty one. At age twenty one, he worked his way up the ranks of the Metropolitan Police Force. He was now known as Detective L. Diethel. And he rather liked the title. Investigator Diethel of New Scotland Yard.
Lyserg was very proud of himself on the day of his promotion. His colleagues even joked that he'd be doing the city well if he were Chief Constable. Yet he was happy with being an investigator and didn't bother to try and get himself promoted. He could have easily been of a higher rank, the dowser had an aptitude for this field of work, and being a shamanic policeman had its advantages. He was very well-known throughout the city and had caught the eye of his superiors for many years.
It was all so perfect, just like he had imagined when he was a child.
Until that one day when a rapist had gotten off with no sentence due to lack of "physical evidence". Though his crystal pendulum had pointed at a car burning by the side of a country road with pieces of female undergarments still in it.
Humans may have based their cases on physical evidence, but shamans like the Diethels did not base their cases on ever-changing physical matter, much as Juliet did not want her Romeo to swear his love by the inconstant moon.
No, they based it off of something much higher than the physical realm. Morphine and he were at the trial as the victim went through what Lyserg called her second rape. Telling her experience in front of an entire panel of strangers and in front of the man who did it. The Englishman was very uncomfortable throughout it as he sensed the burning fire of hate and pain in her heart; much like his had been years ago.
And it got worse from there.
One rapist let go turned into two child molesters let go. Two child molesters turned into five embezzlers let loose. Five embezzlers turned into twenty drug dealers with minor fines. Twenty drug dealers turned into thirty human traffickers with five year sentences. Thirty human traffickers turned into one man admitted into a hospital because of feigned insanity. One free man out of a psychiatric hospital turned into one murderer which turned into exactly three hundred and seventy two people lying dead with a burning airport terminal collapsed on top of them.
A tear drop fell down his cheek.
What exactly is….justice?
Lyserg knew this was the cause of corrupt lawyers and judges, easily swayed by the sight of pounds and any other currency in their face. It was on one of his eavesdropping sessions that he realized at that moment that there was no hope of saving the world. Even with the fortunes of him, Tao Ren, Manta, and all of the richest men and women in the world combined; it would never be enough to appease the greed of human beings. The world ran on money, and all the money in the world would never be enough. This was fact.
Love can't save the world.
Lyserg threw his cigarette off the tower and spat towards the ground as if to insult something. The dowser watched it with hawk-like eyes as it fell into an alley-way and glowed red-hot for a moment before turning into ashes.
"Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."
He tensed up, wondering where the voice had come from. He looked downwards at the Palace of Westminster then at the people walking down below.
He clenched his fists.
"So", he whispered, before finally yelling out, "SMALL!" and he spat at the ground once more.
Lyserg immediately placed his hands on his mouth as if he had just said unholy words that would summon Mephistopheles, Ibis, Lucifer, Mara, and every other personification of evil right by his side, ready to drag him into the world of eternal damnation. Zeruel looked down. Morphine's eyes widened. The Spirit of Fire turned its head to look towards the face of the clock where his current master was. He breathed in deeply with both hands still on his mouth before letting his arms down.
That bastard was right.
One tear drop.
Humans are disgusting.
Two tear drops.
Maybe…
Three tears drops.
Hao had a right to kill them…
He stepped towards the edge of the tower.
Maybe…
Lyserg looked downwards as if the meaning of life were at the bottom.
Mother and Father…
Morphine flew downwards, Zeruel followed suit, even the Spirit of Fire seemed to rival the speed of sound at the moment.
Were disgusting people too.
He closed his eyes, took one foot off the ground, placed it in the air, and prepared to take the step. All three of his spirits were ready to tackle him.
Wait.
Lyserg stopped.
Look.
He opened his eyes.
"Don't worry."
A snowflake.
"It'll work out somehow."
Just one snow flake.
Yoh?
Falling delicately from a cloud.
"Justice always wins."
Marco?
Lyserg looked at that one snowflake, observed it from all angles as it spun around in the wind. From one side, it looked like the sign of the cross. On the other, a seemingly random pattern of dots. It nearly slammed into his face, and from there it took the shape of an X before looping around and falling.
This one snowflake was eventually followed by millions of others.
Even the three spirits halted for a moment to observe this sight. The sight of seeing many of these uniquely patterned ice crystals all floating down to the ground. Some of the people below too stopped and stared. Others didn't give a damn. To them, it was just a sign that their heating bills would be rising as much as the price of gas.
Wow…
He was still awe-struck. It hadn't snowed in London since he was six.
He stared at it for a while, and then wondered why he was standing on one foot. A breathe of wind came by and forced him to take a step back. The three spirits regained their composure and Morphine flew straight into his cheek that made Lyserg turn his head. When he faced forward again, he felt stinginess on his skin and looked at his spirit who looked absolutely furious, yet there were tear drops falling down her face. Zeruel and the Spirit of Fire looked at him as if he was in a court of chivalrous knights and he had just hit a lady.
Morphine then ran into his shoulder and cried into it as Lyserg was still in shock over what he had almost done.
These are the thoughts of the old me.
He clenched his chest. All four of them stayed there, not exactly sure what to do. The only noise made was that of London, the wind, and crying.
"Sorry." He whispered to Morphine. It was almost inaudible. He put her hand on her back. "I'm sorry." He looked at the other two. "I was weak."
Ten minutes passed, maybe thirty. The detective lost count as he stared at the snow and did not know what to think anymore.
His mobile phone rang. That seemed to break the moment. Lyserg took it out of his pocket as Morphine lifted her head. He pressed the talk button, and answered.
"Hello, L. Diethel speaking."
"Lyserg?"
He stopped, scanned the confines of his brain, and wondered why this voice seemed so familiar. Was this someone from the department? No, no, that couldn't be. He certainly remembered it being a lot more soft and high-pitched.
Lyserg decided to take a stab in the dark.
"….Lady Jeanne?"
There was an awkward silence.
One….
Two…
Three…
"Is this Ryu-"
"Ah, I'm so glad you recognized my voice!" the girl replied in a very excited, yet dulcet tone. Lyserg nearly fell over. "I apologize for the silence. I had to put the phone down for a bit so I could put in some coins."
Lyserg coughed nervously, and then shook it off as Morphine inched closer to listen to what was going on.
"I'm sorry for calling you so late, Lyserg. Were you sleeping? I didn't mean to wake you."
"N-No, of course not!"
I get about two hours of sleep anyway.
"H-How are you? It's been so long!" Lyserg began moving around as he talked. "Where have you been? What have you been doing all these years?" He stopped in his place instead of pacing back and forth like a cop about to slap an uncooperative suspect. She did mention something about a telephone. "Wait, Lady Maiden. Where exactly are you?"
Jeanne had been listening to him babbling for a good minute, but she was quite happy to listen. "Why, I'm right here on Oxford Street." She looked back and forth. "In one of these red telephone booths."
He entered another excited frenzy. "Maiden! You're here in London?"
"Yes, I just checked into my hotel about an hour ago. I was going to call you earlier, but it took quite a while for airport security to clear me."
His excitement meter went down a tad. "Ah, there's a reason for that." He stopped himself. Even the thought of Terminal Five and Pyre Sunday made his blood boil. "Ignore that, Maiden."
He then took another breath.
"Lady Jeanne, if it does not interfere with whatever business you are conducting here, would you perhaps like to meet tomorrow?"
Another silence.
"It's been a long time. I have so many questions." He paused again. "And I haven't seen you since the Shaman Fight."
Yoh, Ren, HoroHoro, Anna, Ryu, Chocolove, and the others he visited once every two years at the Funbari Hot Springs for special occasions whenever they occurred. Jeanne he hadn't seen in person since Marco died, and the two usually never carried on a full length conversation by phone.
"That…"
A pause.
"That's exactly why I called you." she said in an innocent voice.
Lyserg then stated the address of a quaint eatery that he and his co-workers often stopped by after work. Policemen knew the best places to eat after all.
"Good night, Lady Maiden. Please, get some rest and stay warm."
"Thank you. Good night, Lyserg."
Both of them hung up at the same time. Lyserg looked towards the ground once more, filled with an excitement he hadn't felt in quite a long time. He tightened his trench coat and loosened his scarf, but not before looking down at the bottom of the tower once more to look at the people.
"Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return?"
He snapped his head back up.
"Let's go home. Looks like I will have to sleep tonight." He told his spirits as they all returned into their respective mediums. Lyserg then proceeded to tie his pendulum to a secure hole in the clock and quietly began to lower himself down onto the street.
In an alleyway, a monstrous, black canine popped out against the white background of the snow. It proceeded to sniff a small pile of ashes on the ground before it put its head back up and grunted.
A hummingbird appeared at the dog's left.
The monster's eyes glowed red for a moment before nudging towards the hummingbird. Both it and the bird turned around and ran at a high speed before turning into wisps of black and green.
Flick.
And they were gone.
I really apologize for it being so long, but I couldn't figure out a way to break it up into smaller chapters without making it seem, well, like one big chapter cut up into smaller pieces. And sorry for all the Lyserg "emo-ness", but I was trying to show that he, as a law enforcer, realized that the task of a peaceful world was impossible.
The idea seems weird to me, and it might seem weird to you, the readers, too. But I was really craving some "Lyserg actually being a detective" action. And if you notice in the last paragraph, there's a little reference to To Kill a Mockingbird.
Anyway, reviews are appreciated. Though you don't have to. I'm writing this just to entertain myself and see if I can make a good mystery story. And I really just want the reviews for constructive criticism.
Adieu!