The thing about hero-worship, Kensei thought to himself, was that it made you stupid. That much was made pretty apparent by the scene before him: the body of a woman who had been beaten to death, all because she wouldn't leave the man who'd saved her life one time and ended it only a few years later. The man in question was huddled on the ground, his hands cuffed behind his back as he sobbed pathetically. Kensei gave a little snort through his nose. Being sorry about something didn't make it better, especially if someone was dead.

"Detective?"

Kensei turned to look at the young officer standing behind him. The boy was an interesting shade of green, and looked like he might be sick at any moment. "Need to puke, Officer?" Kensei asked, raising his eyebrow. Truthfully, he wasn't surprised—fifteen years ago he might have tossed his cookies at a sight like this as well. Now, he was a little more used to it, used to the blood and the sadness and the glazed emptiness of the eyes.

The officer's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "No, sir. Are we ready to leave?"

Kensei hauled the perp on the floor up one-handed. "Yeah. I remember this guy from a domestic dispute call we got half a year ago. We won't have any trouble convicting this sack of shit. You call the medical examiner?"

"On their way," confirmed the young man as he followed Kensei out of the apartment. Together, the two of them wrestled the nearly-hysterical murderer into the police car, and the kid officer whose name Kensei hadn't bothered to learn drove them back to headquarters.

Kensei was just finishing filling out the paperwork when his captain knocked on his office door. The silver-haired man looked up at Hirako Shinji lounging in his doorway, his usual wide grin in place. "What do you want?" Kensei asked flatly. Normally he wouldn't be able to get away with speaking in such a disrespectful tone to a captain, but he and Shinji were old friends. Besides, Shinji was like a duck—he let everything roll off his back.

"Gotcher new partner, Kensei."

Kensei growled a little, shoving one of his desk drawers shut roughly. "I don't need a new partner, Shin."

Shinji hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, his smile fading a little. "Another kid was found dead today."

Kensei's head shot up. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you now. You may not want a partner, but we need more eyes on this case and this guy I've got for you is showing a lot of potential."

"'Potential?'" Kensei growled. "You make him sound like a kid himself. He's not even a detective?"

"Not yet," Shinji admitted. "He's still pretty green, but he's got great instincts, from what I've seen." The blond looked back towards something Kensei couldn't see. "C'mere, Shuuhei. He's mostly bark, don' be scared."

"I'm not scared," came a new voice, deep and mellow and a little husky. Into the doorway stepped a young man with dark, spiky hair and what seemed to be a permanent frown, both on his lips and in the middle of his forehead. His face was smooth, unlined, and unmarked, and even from behind his desk Kensei could see that he barely had more than fuzz on his cheeks and chin.

"You did get me a baby," he snapped at Shinji, who grinned. "Lookit this kid, I can't work with this! He looks like he belongs in fucking daycare!"

Shinji opened his mouth, but the kid—Shuuhei, apparently—beat him to it.

"I'm twenty-one, I'm qualified, and I don't need you to babysit me," he said in his quiet voice. "I'll keep up."

Kensei leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "I'll give him a try," he told Shinji. "But he fucks up once, and I'm done, got it? He fucks up, and I work alone."

"Y'know, yer lucky you can get away with talkin' to me like that," Shinji replied mildly. He clapped Shuuhei on the shoulder and turned away. "Make me proud, kid."

Kensei turned back to the paperwork on his desk, ignoring the young officer still standing in his doorway. After a moment, Shuuhei stepped inside, sitting in one of the chairs that was placed against the office wall.

"How long you been a cop?" Kensei asked finally, still not looking up.

"A year and a half."

The silver-haired man snorted audibly. "And why the hell would you be useful on a case where some sicko keeps raping, torturing, and killing young children around the city?"

"Why don't you ask the captain?"

Kensei's eyes flashed, and he finally looked up. "Because I'm asking you."

Shuuhei's expression was guarded. "I have a degree in criminal psychology. I understand how people work and I'm good at reading them." His dark gaze flicked over Kensei. "For example, you were in the military for several years—Marines, I'm guessing—and you were pretty highly ranked, so it pisses you off to take orders now, even from Captain Hirako, who you clearly go way back with. You're brash and mean, but you genuinely care about victims and have gone out of your way to help people you didn't need to."

"That's a cute skill, brat, but nearly all of that you coulda learned from anyone in this department."

Shuuhei's gaze sharpened, boring into Kensei's amber eyes. "You were shot in the hip while you were in the military—you tend to favor your right side—and one of your best friends was killed right in front of you. You couldn't save him, and you still blame yourself for it today."

Kensei's entire body tensed, and his grip tightened so hard that the pencil he was holding snapped in half. The only person in the world who knew that was Shinji, and even Shinji wouldn't have told a greenhorn he barely knew. "How the fuck do you know that?" he snarled, heart pounding in his ears.

"Like I said," Shuuhei answered, his face still impassive, "I'm good at reading people. I can see the shadows in your eyes." His voice gentled a little. "You're not the only one who's lost someone, you know."

"Shut the fuck up," Kensei said tightly, and the boy fell silent. "Keep your mouth shut about things that you don't understand and we'll get along, okay?" Without waiting for Shuuhei to answer, he stood up, pulling on his coat. "Tomorrow, come to work in civilian clothes, got it? I'm a plain clothes detective, I don't need you makin' people nervous because you're in a cop uniform. Now c'mon. We gotta go see the medical examiner."

Kensei drove them his own unmarked car, gripping the steering wheel hard to stop his hands from trembling. He was still shaken up from what Shuuhei had said, which had hit so far home that it was making him nauseous. There was absolutely no way Shuuhei had seen all of that in his face. He had either known about some of it beforehand, or… Kensei shook his head. There was no or.

"What do you know about this case?" he asked the kid, just to take his mind off of other unpleasant things.

"Serial killer, specifically of children, ages twelve to fifteen, all about five feet tall. All four bodies so far have shown sexual trauma and signs of torture."

"They've also all had a symbol carved into them, like a signature," Kensei added. "So far it seems he—or she—hasn't been discriminating based on gender or looks, just age. All four kids looked pretty different, aside from being similar heights, and so far it's been two girls, two boys."

"Statistically it's probably a man who's killing them," Shuuhei pointed out. "But I guess we have to examine all options."

"If it is a man, he either doesn't penetrate them with his penis or he's been really careful with condoms," Kensei said flatly. "So far we haven't been able to get any semen samples, or skin samples, or samples of any kind."

"He's been in the business before, then," Shuuhei suggested as they pulled into the ME's parking lot.

"Maybe," Kensei hedged, getting out of the car and walking towards the building, Shuuhei hot on his heels. "There are other options too."

"Like what?"

"A copycat killer, or a killer from the past who was never caught." Kensei glanced back briefly at the kid as they entered the building, and was startled to see how spooked Shuuhei looked. "What?"

The boy cleared his throat. "Nothing. I'm fine." But his face was still white and drawn as they stepped into the ME's room. On one of the long, stainless steel tables was a small, lone figure, covered in a sheet.

"You ID'd the body yet?" Kensei asked, pulling out a pad of paper and pen, and after a moment, Shuuhei followed suit.

The ME, who Kensei had never liked, glanced up from his work.

"So very nice to see you again, Kensei," he said, a little cackle in his voice. "Who's your friend?" His smile was nearly as wide as Shinji's, but instead of invoking a sense of familiarity with Kensei the way Shinji's did, the ME's grin just made him nervous.

"He ain't a friend, he's my new partner," Kensei grumbled. "And mind yer own business, Kurotsuchi."

Shuuhei stepped forward, holding out his hand. "I'm Hisagi Shuuhei."

Kurotsuchi clasped his hand, pulling the boy forward so they were nose to nose, his blue hair tickling Shuuhei's forehead and his amber eyes studying the kid thoroughly. "Kurotsuchi Mayuri," he said finally, after a long pause. Shuuhei's gaze sharpened and he jerked his hand free.

"Pleasure," the boy said quietly, looking uneasy.

"Can we get to the body?" Kensei asked impatiently.

Kurotsuchi cackled. "I suppose that's what you're here for. Come, come." He dragged the sheet back.

Kensei, having seen the four previous victims, was expecting the sight. He fully expected the rookie to have to leave the room to vomit, but when he glanced over at the younger man, Shuuhei was standing like a stone, his face smooth of emotion. The only indication of any upset was a sharp intake of breath as the body was revealed.

The body was that of a young boy, maybe eleven years old, with bright red hair and blank, staring eyes. Around his wrists and ankles were weals that could only have been caused from being tied up, and the young body was littered with bruises, cuts, and what looked like burns. Most curious of all was the small symbol carved into the child's chest, equidistant between his nipples, though there was no more blood left to flow from it.

"Name?" Kensei asked.

"His guardians came in and ID'd him earlier today. Said his name was Hanakari Jinta."

"Guardians?" Shuuhei spoke up. "Was he an orphan?"

Kurotsuchi nodded. "The only reason we were able to ID this one so quickly was because I know one of his guardians. Urahara Kisuke. I remembered him having a foster boy with red hair so I called him down."

The way Kurotsuchi kept smiling even while speaking about the death of a child made Kensei's skin prickle on the back of his neck, but he was used to the creepy man, so he ignored it. Shuuhei looked murderous, and Kensei shot him a look, silently warning him to keep his mouth shut. Kurotsuchi may have been an insensitive bastard, but he was a damn good medical examiner, and butting heads with him only made him obdurate.

"Twelve years old, death caused ultimately from asphyxiation in conjunction with a broken neck," Kurotsuchi continued.

"Strangled?" Shuuhei broke in. He was looking at the dark marks on the boy's neck.

"Not with hands. Most likely rope, from the look of the burns on his neck. Like a hanging."

"Rape?" asked Kensei.

"There's definite trauma around and inside the rectum. Like the others, though, it's hard to tell if it's from a foreign object or a penis. No semen."

"And he was found early this morning?"

Kurotsuchi nodded. "Dumped in an alleyway, naked. A couple joggers found him at about six this morning. I'd put time of death from between twelve and four a.m. today."

Kensei was scribbling in his notebook furiously. "The other kids didn't die from asphyxiation, did they?"

"No, they bled out from slashed jugulars," Kurotsuchi said with a little cackle.

Kensei frowned as he wrote the information down. "You got photos?"

Kurotsuchi handed a stack of photos and the medical report to Shuuhei, who tucked them away into his jacket.

"C'mon, kid," Kensei said absently. "Let's head back to HQ. I'll show ya the board."

They drove back in silence, Shuuhei a little pale, but Kensei didn't offer comfort and the young man didn't ask for any. He took his young partner back to his office and showed him the whiteboard where he had pictures of all the other victims. "We find something new, we put it up here," he told Shuuhei, who nodded. Kensei dug in his desk for a magnet and stuck the photos of Hanakari Jinta to the board, a little away from the others. With a marker, he jotted down what Kurotsuchi had told them about the body before leaning back against the desk to look at the board, then at Shuuhei, who was looking at the photos of the other children with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Well, brat, c'mon and tell me what you think about this boy. If you're gonna stay, you're gonna be useful."

Shuuhei continued to study the board, head tilted a little, and Kensei watched him quietly for a minute, eyes narrowed. He couldn't shake the feeling he got around the kid; it hadn't let up during their day together at the ME office and it was still there now, niggling in the back of his brain. It was almost like there was something…off about Shuuhei. He was weird, the way he watched everything silently, which was normally a good trait in a detective but instead made Kensei's scalp prickle. Maybe it was the shine of knowledge in his dark eyes, eyes that Kensei had a feeling had seen far more than their host could fully handle. He resolved to pull the kid's file at the end of the day and read up on him. Something told him there would be little use to ask Shuuhei about his life.

"An accident, maybe?" The boy spoke up at last. "The torture was pushed too far and he died?"

"Unlikely, given the state of the other victims," Kensei pointed out. "Our guy knows how to ride the edge of life and death. He's not the type to have an accident."

Shuuhei's brow furrowed further than it already was. "Punishment and suicide," he said after a minute. "Hanakari Jinta did something he didn't like—broke free, maybe. This killer is prone to fits of passion, and he's unstable. He wanted to teach Hanakari a lesson." Shuuhei was still looking at the photo of Jinta, and Kensei saw with mild alarm that his eyes were a little unfocused. There was an almost robotic quality to his voice and actions, and it made Kensei want to slap him silly, but he resisted. "He beat him, burned him, cut him, and choked him, but he left the rope around his neck and Hanakari managed to hang himself," Shuuhei continued, and at last his voice dropped the robotic quality and his eyes focused again.

Kensei studied him with narrowed eyes. "That's cute, kid, but you're grasping. We probably won't know anything for sure until we get the guy."

Shuuhei looked like he was going to protest, but ultimately kept his mouth shut. He was quieter than usual for the rest of the day, and there was a grayish tint to his skin that Kensei noticed several times but chose to ignore.