"Poor son of a bitch..." The newspaper was carelessly tossed to a coffee table, a cigarette soon ground out on it beside the article that was read. Green eyes examined the apartment. A sigh, the rustling of blankets, a groan.
"Get up, we have to go to work soon," Arthur Kirkland said. He looked at the couch. A figure rose, scratching his back, yawning.
"Too early, Arthur..." said the man, Francis Bonnefoy. The Frenchman wrapped his arms around the torso of the partially nude Briton. He was immediately pushed off.
"Bloody frog..."
xXx
A loud yelp disrupted the silence of the examination room.
"Hush, Matthew!" Arthur scolded, turning to glare at the small, blonde Canadian. Matthew Williams looked up at Arthur.
"S-Sorry.. It's just.."
The four men, Arthur, Francis, Matthew, and a dirty blonde man with a few hairs that stuck up named Alfred F. Jones, looked at the pale, lifeless body on the cold metal examination table. Ivan Braginski, a large Russian male, looked up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes, two large bullet wounds on either side of his head, dried blood matting down the once nice looking ashen blonde hair. Arthur had to admit: It was really quite disgusting. He sighed before he pulled on rubber gloves.
"Let's get to work."
xXx
The examination yielded little results. All they could confirm was that it was most definitely not a suicide, which did not help the group much. Then, when they thought all hope was lost, Francis burst in with the victim's file.
"Braginski, Ivan. Age 22. Male," Arthur read aloud. He looked up at his boyfriend/co-worker. "This helps us how?" Francis sighed.
"Keep reading."
"Where, frog? This thing goes on..." He stopped and read something, which he then repeated for the others. "Braginski was put on trial for the murder of Wang Yao, 14, ("Yao would be his given name." "I bloody well know that, frog.") Braginski was proven innocent due to insufficient evidence against him." Arthur looked up at Francis, who nodded.
"I'm searching up the boy now," he informed the three men before he left, leaving the others to mull over the new information.
xXx
"Here, mon cher. But I warn you, it's not pretty."
Francis was right. The boy, Yao, was very pretty. When he was living, that is. Of course, there were police photographs of when the boy's corpse was fished out of the city's main lake. There were signs of struggle, bruises shaped like fingers on the boy's slim neck. His body looked horrible. Arms spread wide, hair flared out below his body. The skin had turned a sickly bluish hue, and weeds mixed in with the long black tresses. Arthur would have been sick if this was something he hadn't seen everyday. Still, to see a little fourteen year old boy like this was fucking disturbing.
It turns out Braginski was just a short month younger then Yao when it happened. Arthur sighed, shaking his head. This was horrible, and they weren't anywhere closer. Francis patted his shoulder gently.
"I found pictures from the funeral, if that could help," he suggested. Arthur nodded and took the envelope. After reluctantly kissing his boyfriend, he went into his office.
xXx
The funeral was small. It looked like the poor boy had a large family. He was the eldest of five siblings. His mother could be seen sobbing in each picture. One photo in particular caught his attention. A young boy, probably ten, stood by the casket. He looked … Angry. His hand clutched the edge of it, knuckles white. The young boy with short black hair looked unforgiving, looked like he could kill.
"Francis!"
The door opened. "Oui, mon cher?"
"Get me a file on this kid."
xXx
Kiku Honda was an adopted sibling of Yao. When his older brother was murdered, he was just the tender age of ten. Now he was a man of nineteen, already working high up in a robots company. Ivan Braginski's company. They discovered poor Kiku was hung up on the death of his oldest brother. They didn't realize just how upset the young man was until they arrived at his apartment.
xXx
It was the day of the search. Tension was in the air. Arthur led the three other men into the apartment and they spread out. Matthew screamed. Alfred ran to him. There was a lifeless body in the bedroom. Arthur cussed loudly and called for backup.
A few days later, a note was found in Kiku's pocket.
"I'm with you now, brother.
Braginski burns in hell."
Due to insufficient evidence, the two murders were never solved.
A/N:
This is what you get when I'm depressed. Review?
