52 Pick-Up
A crossover piece with YnM and Puppet Master Sakon: An unusual client at the Petshop. A young intern from Japan at the LAPD. Murders leading to someone with a vampire fetish. A pregnant Siren eating all of Count D's treats and a troublesome Manticore.
Looks like business as usual.
Pairings: Mild Watari/Tatsumi, Hisoka/Tsuzuki, hints of D/Leon
Warnings: Violence, swearing, mild gayness, and Ninja!Watari. You have been warned.
Chapter 1: Poker Faced
There was a monotonous, high beeping noise from under the pillow. It was loud enough to wake the sleeping figure, but had been muffled so that no one in the rest of the house could have heard it. Sakon slid a hand under the pillow and silenced the alarm with the slightest sense of irritation. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and waited until they adjusted to the dark. He glanced at the little glowing green numbers and frowned. It was a quarter after three. If he wanted to catch his plane, he had to get up now. Getting out of bed, he smoothed over the rumpled clothes he had slept in, and bending over to peer at his reflection in the mirror, he ran a comb through his disheveled black hair. There was a little crack of static and his bangs were sticking out at odd angles. Flattening them as best he could with his hands, he pulled on his traveling cloak, gathered up his suitcase, shoes and a black wooden box, he tip-toed along the corridors. When he was outside in the cool, damp night air, he crouched down, and tugged on his shoes.
"Running off without saying goodbye again, Sakon?" Someone said behind him as he opened the gate with a slight creak. Startled, he turned, and then his shoulders sagged. His aunt Kaoruko was standing their looking weary and had dark patches under here eyes. She must have just got home from doing some paperwork back at the precinct.
"Kaoruko-'neesan." He breathed.
"You know your grandfather disapproves of this idea of yours." His aunt said sternly.
"I know." He said, meeting her eyes. "I want to do this. I have a gift for it, and-" Kaoruko silenced him with a pat on the cheek.
"Shh. I'll give you a ride."
"-What?"
"I've just got back, but I'll give you a ride. It's no fun leaving without someone to see you off."
Sakon's confused expression eased into a smile. "Thanks."
Sakon had just turned nineteen and was in his second year of college. He had decided to become a detective. A proper detective, like his aunt, not just the amateur work he did. His grandfather had stubbornly disapproves, and while he had done nothing himself to try to prevent Sakon from continuing his studies, the elderly puppet master had unleashed an unforgivable weapon of family warfare.
His mother.
Oh he loved his mother very much, that much was true. But she cried. A lot. Happy, sad, there was no damming her tears and she would sniffle, and blow her nose and make everyone feel a little guilty.
But even though Saemon Tachibana wanted Sakon to be the head of the family and continue their legacy of Bunraku puppetry, Sakon's resolve was firm. His talents would go into solving murders. It wasn't like he had much choice about it anyway what withthe way death seemed to follow him everywhere, so he might as well hone his skills and really know what he was doing. As much as he yearned to continue with puppetry, he could never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to become a detective.
Which was why he was taking advantage this overseas internship in California. He had scrimped and saved for the past three years to travel outside of Japan, and now he was finally leaving. Kaoruko had been the only one to support him in this endeavor, and Sakon was forever grateful to her.
As they drove, he watched the tranquil night grow increasingly more full of activity as they got closer and closer to the city. It wasn't long until they had reached the airport.
---
Count D looked at the Siren sprawled out on the couch, with her swollen belly, a hot-water bottle on her lower back, and a cushion held between her legs. Her head was tucked under her wings, her feathered tail curled around her ankle and the only indication she was awake was that she would make exquisite noises of 'my-back-hurts'. The Siren had a slight build, and was probably much too young to be laying an egg. Still, D had dealt with young Siren mothers before, and he had seen that they laid their eggs just fine. Lifting one wing he peered at the face scrunched up with the effort of whatever was ailing her.
"How is my little nestwing?" He asked gently. Sirens were very much so the epitome of drama queens, and expectant mothers were even worse. Resigned to being the target of the creature's bad mood, D bit his tongue and let her moan and groan, and kept his voice a gentle croon so she had less to complain about. Not that that would stop her or anything, but he was determined to take the highground in this. That andhe was rather annoyed she had gotten into his chocolate stash earlier that week. Mister Detective had better have something tasty when he dropped by, or the Siren wasn't going to be the only thing with a temper.
...Still, she was a fine specimen of her species; mostly humanoid, with powder blue feathers andflesh. Her legs' smooth skin giving way to silvery white scales just below her knees and she walked (currently waddled)on bird-like feet, with two large claws that were held upright and curved dangerously much like a velociraptors. Her hands were human, though from below her elbows and just above her knuckles were soft downy feathers. She had a ruff of the same down around her neck, a small face with slightly darker and purple markings around her eyes, on her forehead and cheeks. Her hair was long and very pretty shade of sky blue, though currently plastered down with sweat from the California summer heat. The creature had been named Trilochana by theHindu monkwho had brought her to D. He explained that because the markings on her forehead looked like a third eye and so the name was truly fitting. As D mopped her forehead he knew the man had been right.
Patting Trilochana's cheek reassuringly the Count stood.
"I'll make some herb tea and light some incense. You just get some rest."
The Siren didn't respond at first, but did crack open one large eye that was entirely blue. "Want more D-D food."
D managed to keep his face straight, and mentally noted never, EVER let Leon meet this creature lest he get taunted with calls of "Hey Count D-D! I brought you D-D food!"
He knew the human would not be above resisting that kind of temptation.
Stepping out of what had once been a small storage room that he had cleaned out and made suitable living quarters so the Siren could have some room and privacy from the other animals, he shut and locked the door behind him.
"D-D, huh?"
The Count looked up and frowned. Speak of the big blonde devil.
"Detective Orcot, I will have to insist you refrain from calling me by that little nickname."
Detective Leon Orcot stood looking smug and triumphant. It was the first time he had made D scowl like that in a while and it gave him a very warm, fuzzy feeling of spiteful satisfaction in the pit of his stomach.
"Whatever. I got you pegged this time D-D. One of your mad little beasties was running loose and nearly took a chunk out of me. Thank god I mentioned you otherwise I'd be missing half my thigh."
"Oh! How... unfortunate. So I wonder which of my clientle have breeched their contract?" He mused, leaning against the door just in case Leon got it into his head to peek in on the Siren.
"I have no idea what it's called. It's got a human torso growing out of some sort of big-cat body, pretty huge wings and a tail like a scorpion."
D's expression didn't change, though one brow was raised. "I haven't sold any Manticores." He said smoothly. "I make a point not to. They're extremely dangerous."
Leon huffed. "Like everything else you sell is safe and harmless? Jesus D, I don't need this on top of like, two deaths in this week by some sicko who thinks he's a vampire!" But little alarm bells were going off. If D said that thing was dangerous...
"If people keep to their contracts there's no reason at all that the animals I sell shouldn't be perfectly good pets. Manticores cannot be bound by contract."
"Well as soon as I mentioned you, it backed down!"
"And I tell you now I don't know why, because I don't have anything to do with that kind of animal!"
"Well you're the only one who sells critters like it! It asked me to take it to you!"
"And I tell you they can't be sold! They're violent, uncontrollable, completely volatile and vicious animals. They devour people whole and- YOU BROUGHT IT HERE! Leon ho-"
There was a noise like several trumpets all playing different notes at once. The room became silent. Animals in cages made themselves as small as possible and huddled into corners, disappeared into cardboard tubes or in some cases, vanished from sight entirely. Animals not in cages scrambled for a hiding place. Eventhe Totetsuhad taken shelter behind the desk.
The source of the trumpet like sound padded towards them from around a shelf of bird cages, licking it's fingers. The only sign that it had eaten anything were a few brightly colored feathers floating to the floor and a half open birdcage.
D looked indignant, horrified, disgusted and utterly livid.
The Manticore was not much larger than a pony, and was definitely a female. Case in point, it had a broad-shouldered female torso growing out of a lions body. The torso was quite muscular and thick-skinned and the head could quite easily belong to a rather handsome young lady were it not for the razor sharp canines and enormous round blue eyes, with slit pupils like a cats. She had a mane of wild brownish yellow hair, though it was groomed and kept free of knots and snares. Large pale yellow wings with scruffy feathers were attached to shoulders of lion body. They were folded to her sides, but D swore they must be able to span twenty feet total. The thing probably couldn't get airborne without a nice high place to jump from and a strong thermal.
But what made him wary was the tail. It was a scorpion like tail, and he knew for a fact that it contained the most deadly venom known to man.
"Is... Manjula here?" the creature said in cautious human-speak. "She has egg. Want to see, egg!"
"Who's Manjula?" Leon whispered to D.
"No idea." D whispered back and approached the Manticore cautiously. He hoped it wouldn't try anything. "I don't have anyone here named Manjula," he said slowly, and the creature rested a clawed hand on it's chin, thinking hard for a moment.
"I see. I come back. Wait for Manjula. Wait like promised. Promised egg!" At that, the Manticore sped out the door into the empty street, spread its enormous wings, beat them twice and was airborne, circling above on a thermal and soon vanished behind a sky rise.
D's lips had curled into a frown. This looked like things were going to get troublesome.
"May I offer you some tea?" He said to a gaping Leon, trying to regain his elegant composure. "I was just about to make some for the expectant mother."
Leon shook himself into some semblance of normal and nodded. "After that? I think I'm going to need it."
---
"You took your sweet time at D's," Jill said, not looking up from filing a report. Leon flopped down and swivelled round-about in his chair.
"Jill?"
"Yes?"
"What do you know about Manticores?" He said sounding a little dazed. "And how do you go about making a public service announcement not to go near one?"
"Well I... What? Leon, are you drunk?"
"No."
Jill gave him an unconvinced sidelong glance. "...High?"
"NO!"
"Then what the hell is a... this is about one of D's little monstrosities isn't it?"
Leon shrugged. "It didn't belong to him, but I think it was looking for something that D should be looking after."
Leon was unnerved. He had known the Count for a while now, and not once had he seen him look that worried. It wasn't like many people could tell the Count was worried, but just the little frown, the brief knitting of the brow and the way the hands had suddenly clenched... it had to be some kind of feeling of not being entirely at ease.
Pulling the screen up on his laptop, he waited for it to wake up from stand-by mode, and quietlythanked god for the Internet.
"Are you going to tell me what the hell you're on about?" Jill said, seating herself and tossing a raisin from her trail-mix at Leon's forehead. He picked it up off of his keyboard, popped it into his mouth, and grunted.
"Oh fine," Jill leaned back in her chair and glowered.
"Holy shit." Was all Leon said after about a quarter of an hour of Googling 'Manticores'. He looked up at Jill, and his mouth was opening and closing like a fish. He finally managed another "Holy shit." And he got out of his chair, grabbed his wallet and turned to Jill.
"I'm going to go see D again. Be back in a bit."
Jill looked alarmed. "Leon, what are...? Leon, GET BACK HERE! The Chief is going to have your head if you go running off!" But he was already running out the door looking frantic.
Standing, she peered at the screen of his laptop, reading slowly, her mouth moving with the words but soon steadily grew into an 'O' of comprehension.
"Holy shit."
---
Thud.
"Quit it."
Thud. Thud.
"Knock it off."
Thudthudthud.
"I'm going to tell the Chief you're throwing pencils in the ceiling and not being even remotely productive." Said Hisoka Kurosaki, peering up at his partner with eyes the color of spring grass. Tsuzuki Asato, the older and taller of the two Shinigami with a much darker complexion than Hisoka, wore a guileless little smile.
"Not productive? Who? Me?"
"Yes, you. If you don't cut it out, I will tell the Chief." His expression grew darker, more menacing. "Or perhaps Tatsumi would be so kind as to grant me permission to see how well those pencils stick in your nostrils...?"
Tsuzuki cowered, and quickly grabbed a few folders of reports and got to work.
"That's what I thought." Hisoka said in satisfaction, returning to filling out his report.
---
Today, Watari was feeling like a Ninja. He was invisible! Stealthy!Ninja-like.
Target acquired! thought the blonde Shinigami, closing in on the figure hunched over his work. This potion was amazing! It rendered the drinker completely invisible and inaudible. Not even footprints could be left by this wondrous little concoction! It was the ultimate potion in stealth! Perfect for creeping up on unsuspecting Tatsumi and giving him a wet-willy.
Crouched down, Watari poised his moist finger beside Tatsumi's ear and-
"If you would be so kind Yutaka-san, please save me a trip and go bring Kurosaki-san and Asato-san into the Chief's office ASAP?"
How did he do it! "How do you do it!" Watari bemoaned his failed Mission: Wet Willy. Tatsumi always knew when someone was sneaking up on him.
"You smell like acid. And I don't mean the sulfuric kind." An aggravated Tatsumi replied.
"...Kicked the habit. I swear I've been clean since '86."
"There's no room for burnt out hippies in the Judgment Bureau. Get going."
Watari puffed himself up in indignation and stomped off to go pinch Hisoka's cheeks and give Tsuzuki a wedgie.
---
Ten minutes and a few very undignified shrieks and squawks later, five Shinigami were assembled in the Chief's office. One was gingerly rubbing slightly bruised cheeks. The other had his hands firmly clamped on his posterior. The effects of Watari's potion were beginning to wear off, and hence the man would flicker off and on like a bad light bulb, or stand around in a state of translucency for a few seconds and then go back to flickering.
The Chief, a paunchy, gray-haired man with a stern face, chisled with wrinkles, surveyed the other Shinigami with his perpetual frown.
"Got a lead on the Kazutaka case." He announced gruffly to the assembled. Postures stiffened almost immediately, though none so much as Hisoka and Tsuzuki. Gone was the daily antics and sarcasm from the two Shinigami. Tsuzuki was bracing himself for what came next, and Hisoka was staring unblinking at the chief.
"The victims, two women in their twenties were found with puncture marks on their necks. At both crime scenes, LAPD forensics picked up strands of silver hair and fibers that would belong to a white suit, costing approximately a million Yen."
"Sounds like Muraki alright," Tsuzuki scoffed at the sheer thought of a million yen.
Hisoka raised his hand. "I'm sorry sir. Did you say LAPD? Aren't they in California?"
"I'll get to that in a minute Kurosaki-san. DNA testing confirms that the hairs found at the crime match the hairs from the Kyoto case. Also found at both scenes were a red rose and a note. The note reading-"
"-'I promise you a million roses when next we meet', right?" Tsuzuki managed in a humorless laugh.
The Chief nodded. "Muraki's calling card, alright. He's definitely trying to bait Tsuzuki."
"Why in LA, I wonder?" Watari mused.
"He's too safe here." Hisoka answered almost immediately. He felt suddenly bashful as four pairs of eyes landed on him. He could practically taste their curiosity, and worst of all, Tsuzuki's apprehension. He swallowed hard, and continued. "He... Muraki knew that back in Kyoto. There's nothing stopping Tatsumi or Watari showing up out of the blue to save Tsuzuki's sorry ass."
Tsuzuki shot him a look at that last bit, but Hisoka stared back defiantly, daring to the older Shinigami to deny that he had been the 'damsel in distress' on so many occasions. Tsuzuki grumbled something and backed down.
"He wants Tsuzuki where he's not protected by the bureau. He especially wants him away from Tatsumi." The Shadow Master's fingers clenched at this. He had proved beyond a doubt that Muraki was no match for him. Hisoka continued. "In any case, what are we going to be doing? Los Angelos is way out of our jurisdiction."
The Chief rubbed his chin with a thoughtful 'hrmm', carefully contemplating if he should say next what was on his mind. He decided to do so, simply because he knew Tsuzuki would be infuriated if he didn't.
"There are Shinigami in America," he said cautiously, and there is a small group in California. They sent the information on these crimes because it coincided with files on our priority investigations."
"If I can go to Los Angeles, I want to. He won't stop killing until I show up." Tsuzuki said immediately. It was rare to see him so diligant.
"...And then he'll slither off and disappear until he feels like having you drop in again," Watari said exasperated. "The Chief said. He's baiting you. And your going for it, hook line and sinker."
"Can I finish?" The Chief Konoe snapped, and Watari flickered guiltily. "Thank you. The LA unit is working day and night on this but they don't have nearly enough manpower to deal with someone like Muraki. They don't really know the old magic."
There were glances exchanged. Looks that clearly translated to ' Fucking newbs'.
"They need help, and they're willing to shell out expenses for a couple of Shinigami who are experienced in dealing with Muraki." The Chief finished.
"I'm going." Tsuzuki said firmly. There was no room for argument. Everyone knew not to anyway.
"I'm going too." Hisoka said immediately. Tsuzuki looked as though he was going to protest but Hisoka shot him a glare. "I'm not leaving you alone with him." There was just the slightest hint of possessiveness in the smaller Shinigami's voice.
"Um... but neither of you speak English." The Chief pointed out.
There was a tiny coughing in the corner. It was a small, polite little noise, and heads turned.
Delicately rotting in the corner, and giving a wide grin that could be described as toothy had most of them not fallen out (and the ones that hadn't would make any toothfairy die a little inside), was the miniscule undead gardener wearing a pink apron.
"The Count of the Hall of Candles says that slight problem can be rectified," said Watson, fussing with his apron.
"Really!" Tsuzuki felt overjoyed.
"...for a price."
Tsuzuki blanched.
Watson was still grinning.
---
End of Chapter 1
A/N: Cackles Oh I am an evil little thing. Yes yes. Mostly this is being written to relieve exam stress. Whether it will be continued or not is up to me entirely. C&C welcome. Pie even more welcome. I like pie.
Small translations:
Trilochana and Manjula are Indian names (as in India, not Native American). Trilochana means 'Three-eyed one' and Manjula means 'Melodious'.
