Author's Rant:

This was originally not going to be a chaptered fic, but I got lazy and could only type up this much at once. It works better this way, anyway - since it's only a prologue I can ignore the fact that it's probably confusing as hell. As usual, my grammar and vocabulary is somewhat closer to an elementary student and it's quite apparent my style's completely gone down the drain.

Back to the story. Yes, it's alter-universe, so you'll be seeing the same characters with different occupations. I'm not saying more than that for now, so the rest is to be figured out from reading - just to make sure, though, it's Ban speaking down there. Should be clear near the end but, yeah, just making sure it's loud and clear.

Italics are conversation or thoughts, because I've clean forgotten how to use quotation marks. If anyone has a tip on that, well, feel free to share. And I decided to use the romanji for Raitei, Megenjou, and etc...Just because I like the sound (it's so much shorter). If you disagree with that...nope, I'm not changing anything.

Constellation - Prologue

x x x x x

The deaths were almost subtle tonight, you muster. That's always been your way of dealing with the worst - avoiding them or joking about them and hoping that it'd pass soon. It works well most of the time, but only because there's no one to see you flustered on a night when all the stars are fully visible.

It's been like this for years. You've moved halfway across the planet and faked most your identity just so you could get away, but the pain you receive is because no one's there to acknowledge the fact that you've been doing well for someone that has no friends or family. You have more than one people after your head as well, and you think it means you've got some cost.

Yeah, and you're cheap, only because you know how important money is.

Excuse me, I'm looking for a private detective, my son was murdered but the police force refuses to help. You hear this more than once a day and it would almost have been funny, had it not been that the cases you sometimes get almost killed you. The cops are complete shit these days and everyone darn well knows it, but no one does anything to change it, instead relying on other ways to find the justice they chose. But you know you're no justice, because you're doing the exact same thing to get revenge for those that pay you.

It's filthy money and it's a dangerous job, but it pays and you having your own apartment make up for everything else.

Someone had their drinks poisoned tonight and some other had their lungs filled with acid, but it looks pretty enough and all you had to do was get some names and list down the contents used. Easy, too, seeing as poison-users tend to be far away whenever their deeds are done. You've also sent a copy of your investigation to the police, not because you trust them to do anything but because you wanted to boost your ego just a little more.

And walking home from the train station was when you first saw him, figure unbelievably held stern but eyes darting everywhere. Around him stood four others, strangely looking as if they've been caught. Taking a glance downward, you see something that could only be a corpse and the cause could only be him. But he doesn't look like anyone who would do something worthy of capture, and while first impressions don't mean anything there's something particular about him that makes you trust your instinct.

Still, you don't know him, and you wonder if you should actually help the police just so you could shove in their face that you do their job so much better (even if it's somewhat illegal). You just stand there for a while and all of them are glaring at you, but it's only his eyes you see, those eyes that should be showing anger by now but is instead completely bare. For a brief second you hated those eyes, for they reflected you quite utterly and you feel baffled just by looking at them.

You aren't where you belong, you say to him as he continues to glare at you, you aren't where you belong so I could kill you right here and it wouldn't matter. You don't mind the people around him because they wouldn't be able to stop you anyway, you continued your staring contest with him as you challenged him to something you're unsure of.

Who are you, he asks, and why are you here? It's because of demons like you that the world is full of sadness; it's because of people like you that my friends were killed. He goes on muttering, I hate you, I hate this, I just want all this to end, I don't want to have to fight anymore, I just want somewhere to rest.

You think, my name is Midou Ban, and I'm here to end this. But you do not say this out loud, in fear of losing your ground.

He's the Raitei, he's our Raitei, the people around him start to whisper. Louder and louder, he's ours, he's our Raitei, you aren't taking him away.

Perhaps it's jail you belong, perhaps there's somewhere else, you taunt. I should kill you for the act of murder, you add.

Then bring me to jail, he replies, making no notice that he heard your accusation of murder. You think his choice of words strange for no one asks to be brought to jail but rather be put into, yet he continues. Bring me to jail, so I would know if it's where I belong.

When the day ended with you handing him over to the police, you knew you would see him again, just as you knew deep down that he wouldn't belong in jail, not with those empty eyes. He's still merely a suspect and you're already thinking about how you're going to meet him again, whether in or out of jail you don't know. But, well, you'll find out, wouldn't you? And maybe that's all that you need to care about for the moment.