Chapter 2

The day wasn't terribly hot, but the overcast sky filled with light gray clouds promised nothing but high humidity. Kurama sat on a bus, leaning his head against the back of the seat as he watched the city buildings slip past his window. He was dressed in a button down shirt and slacks, and his hair was pulled back in a high ponytail although a few tendrils had come loose and were sticking to the back of his neck. He was holding a vase with a carefully arranged bouquet of flowers on his lap as he absently fanned himself with a pocket notebook. He glanced up at the signs as the bus pulled over, checking it against an address in his notebook before standing and getting off.

It took him another ten minutes to walk to his destination and he briefly closed his eyes as he stepped inside, enjoying the cold air that washed over him. He walked up to the secretary's desk, a pleasant smile on his face as he waited for her to finish her call.

She looked young, hardly old enough to have a front desk position, although her movements and confidence as she spoke belied her experience. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tsukimoto is in a meeting," she was saying over the phone, not even pausing as she typed on the computer. "No, you can either leave a message or call back in an hour or two... Yes... All right, I will let him know... Thank you. Good bye." She hung up the phone and wrote down a quick note on the pad next to her keyboard before turning her attention to Kurama. "May I help you?" she asked, glancing at the flowers in his hand.

"My name is Minamino Shuichi," Kurama said. "I'm here to see Ishikawa Hitomi, if she's not busy."

The secretary turned back to her computer, tapping away on the keyboard. "She doesn't have any current appointments," she said after a moment. "Let me check and make sure she's in her office."

Kurama waited as she called and verified he could go in, following the directions to Ishikawa's office. He knocked on the door, entering when he was called in.

Ishikawa was sitting behind a large mahogany desk, the papers and folders on it neatly stacked and organized. She held up one finger as he entered, signaling him to wait while she finished writing a note in her planner. She was a slender woman, dressed in an expensive business suit that accentuated her slight frame. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun and she absently brushed a loose tendril behind one ear. She set the pen down and closed the planner, manicured nails adjusting the glasses perched on her nose as her light blue eyes met his questioningly.

Kurama stepped up to the desk at this silent cue. "Giving flowers can mean many things to different people. Most people simply throw the flowers together because they are pretty. However, each blossom has its own meaning and every bouquet tells a story," Kurama explained. "These flowers were picked just for you. This one is where the story starts," he said, lightly touching the purple hyacinth. "It means I'm sorry. This particular blossom says, I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean what I said. I was stressed because I lost my job and I took it out on you. I'm sorry," he recited. "Next is the bluebell, which represents gratitude. I'm grateful that you've stayed beside me through the last several months. I know it hasn't been easy."

Ishikawa watched Kurama curiously as he moved to the next flower, a soft smile playing about her lips. She had received flowers before but never like this.

"At the center is a single rose in full bloom. This one says so much with so few words. I love you."

"What about that one?" she asked, pointing to the last flower. "What does that one mean?"

"This," Kurama said, his fingertips lightly brushing over the white carnation, "is both a hope and a promise. I think I will let Mr. Hokama Kenji explain that one. He requests the honor of your company for dinner. If you are agreeable, he will pick you up at 6:00 tonight," he said, setting the vase on her desk. "If not, he asks that you please contact him to schedule for another time."

Ishikawa pulled the flowers closer, unable to help the smile on her face. "Kenji really is a hopeless romantic," she chuckled.

Kurama pulled the small notebook out of his pocket, flipping to the correct receipt. "I need you to sign and date it at the bottom, stating these flowers were delivered," he said, handing her the notebook.

She signed it and handed it back. "Thank you, Mr. Minamino," she said, still beaming.

"It was my pleasure, Ms. Ishikawa," Kurama replied, bowing. "Have a lovely day and I hope you enjoy dinner tonight." He left her to enjoy the flowers, leaving the building and heading back out into the humid afternoon.

Kurama checked his watch, closing his eyes briefly as he realized he wouldn't make it back to the station in time to catch the train he needed for his next appointment. Sighing, he stepped to the curb and hailed a taxi, resigning himself to an uncomfortable trip across town.

The cab pulled over to the curb and Kurama climbed in, wrinkling his nose slightly at the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and perfume. While most forms of public transportation were unpleasant to some extent, buses and trains were more open and didn't hold onto odors as tenaciously as the closed interior of taxi cabs. He gave the address to the driver after consulting his notebook once more and turned his head to watch the scenery passing outside the window. It was times like these that he wished his sense of smell wasn't quite so sensitive.

It took about half an hour to reach his destination and Kurama quickly paid his fare and exited the cab. He glanced up at the tall building in front of him, the glass windows of fifty-some-odd floors reflecting the city around them. It was a luxury hotel, an upscale establishment that charged more per night than some people paid in rent per month. However what the general public didn't know was that it was just a front operated by a yakuza boss to maintain appearances.

Kurama entered the lobby, glancing around the room. Two men in identical uniforms were standing at the ready while a third loaded a guest's luggage onto a cart before leading them to their room. Four of the five receptionists were busy with customers, so Kurama approached the one who was free. The desk clerk had short hair, dark in color although a bit of gray was starting to set in. She was dressed in white blouse with a black skirt and wore a nametag that read 'Eri.' She looked up as he stopped in front of the desk, giving him a polite smile. "Good afternoon, sir," she greeted, "do you have a reservation with us?"

Kurama returned the smile. "No. My name is Minamino Shuichi. Mr. Yutaro asked me to come look at some vines that he purchased from me a few months back," he explained.

Eri frowned slightly, absently biting her lip as she checked something on the computer. "Um, wait here a moment," she said, walking toward the door in the corner. She knocked on it briefly before opening it and stepping inside. It wasn't long before she reappeared, an older gentleman wearing a dark suit accompanying her. He was a bit heavy-set and had a circle beard although his head was shaved. Dark eyes peered out from behind small spectacles, looking over Kurama curiously. Eri returned to her desk as the man approached the redhead.

"Hello Mr. Minamino. I'm Miyaji Goro, the manager of this fine establishment. I understand you are here about the plants?" he asked, shaking Kurama's hand.

"That is correct."

"Right this way, please," Miyaji said, leading Kurama to one of the elevators. He swiped a keycard to open the doors, gesturing for the redhead to step inside before following.

They rode up to the fifty-sixth floor, Miyaji making small talk along the way. The elevator dinged as they reached their destination and the doors opened, revealing a tall man waiting for them. He had light brown hair, cropped close to his scalp and a scar across his upper lip gave him a perpetual sneer. He was also wearing a dark suit and seemed to nod to himself as he studied the redhead.

"I assume you know Mr. Yutaro?" the manager asked, gesturing to the man.

"We've met," Kurama agreed, inclining his head slightly to the taller man.

"Thank you, Mr. Miyaji. I'll take it from here," Yutaro said.

Miyaji nodded, pushing the button to the bottom floor as Kurama stepped out of the elevator. The redhead noted the two security guards on either side of the elevator door, idly running through scenarios in his mind of the best way to neutralize them without raising an alarm. He shook his head, smiling. Old habits died hard, it seemed. There wasn't even anything here Kurama would consider worth stealing.

"Pleasure to see you again, Mr. Minamino. This way, please," Yutaro said, leading Kurama down the hallway.

"On the phone you said there was a problem with the vines you purchased from me," Kurama stated. "Could you elaborate?"

"I am not a gardener, Mr. Minamino," Yutaro replied. "I couldn't tell you what was wrong with common household plants, much less something as exotic as your vines. I think it would be better if you examined them yourself."

Kurama nodded, conceding the point. They used another elevator to reach the penthouse on the top of the building. The doors opened and Kurama's eyes were immediately drawn to the potted plants on either side of the doorway. They were hung up near the ceiling, numerous vines spilling out over the sides of the pots and almost long enough to brush the floor. The dark green leaves grew in small clusters all along the vine, making it look more like a fluffy boa than a plant.

Kurama's eyes widened slightly as he stepped forward, gently lifting one of the vines in his hand. "What have you done to it?" he asked, checking the undersides of the leaves. "These leaves are supposed to be red, not green."

"That is precisely why we have asked you here," Yutaro replied. "Our gardener has recently retired and the new one isn't familiar with how to care for these."

Kurama could read between the lines well enough to understand that the previous gardener's retirement was permanent and likely unwilling. "I suppose he misplaced the manual I left detailing their care?"

"It would seem so."

Kurama sighed. "Very well, I'll send you another one. It might behoove you to read it yourself, so as to ascertain whether the vines are getting the proper care or not before they reach this point in the future."

"Can these plants be salvaged?" Yutaro asked.

"Yes, I believe so. There's still a bit of red along the veins, so it's not yet completely vegetarian."

"How long before they are back in working condition?"

Kurama shrugged, letting the vine fall back. "Probably two weeks, at least. Carnivorous plants cannot exist on water and artificial sunlight alone. Start with some chicken or pork, organic preferably, cut into small pieces. Make sure it's raw and heated to at least 90 degrees."

Yutaro had pulled a pad of paper out of his pocket and was writing down the instructions. "How much meat per day?" he asked.

"Start with a quarter pound and increase that by another quarter each day until you reach five pounds. Feed them every day until their leaves are completely red again, front and back. Then, cut back to two pounds every other day. That will keep them healthy, but hungry enough to devour anyone who comes in without a talisman." Kurama reached up and unhooked the pot, bringing it down and brushing the vines aside to check the dirt. "The soil will need to be replaced as well."

"Any brand in particular?" Yutaro asked.

Kurama shook his head. "You can't get it here. I'll have to import it."

Yutaro nodded, finishing his notes. "Is that all?"

"For these. I'd like to check the others as well," he said.

Yutaro nodded, replacing the pad in his pocket. "This way," he said, walking down the hall.

Kurama followed him through the penthouse, stopping and examining the plants at every exterior door and window along the way. None of the plants with access to direct sunlight had deteriorated as quickly as the ones next to the elevator, many of them still sporting red patches on their leaves. "Well, I do believe you managed to catch this in time," he said as he finished checking the last one. "With the proper care, none of these should need to be replaced." He brushed his hands off, turning back to his escort. "The instructions I gave you should be enough to get you started. I'll order the potting soil today and reassess the plants' condition once it comes in."

Yutaro nodded, leading the way back to the elevator. "And the manual?" he asked, stepping onto the lift.

"In your inbox by tonight, assuming you haven't changed your email address," Kurama replied. "I assume a virtual copy in your possession won't be misplaced so easily, although I can bring you a hard copy if you'd rather."

"An email will be fine."

The doors opened and Yutaro stepped out, leading Kurama to the elevator that would take him back to the lobby. "Mr. Sato will see you out," he said, nodding to the security guard who stepped forward. "Thank you for your services."

"Give my regards to the owner," Kurama said as he walked into the elevator, Sato right behind him. "And don't thank me until after you've received my bill."

Yutaro smiled but didn't reply as the doors closed between them.

The elevator dinged as it reached the ground floor and Kurama nodded to the security guard as he stepped off the lift and back out into the lobby. Pulling his phone from his pocket, the redhead moved over to the empty waiting area as he scrolled through his list of contacts. He forewent the plush leather seats, opting instead to lean against the wall as he dialed the number and listened to it ring.

It didn't take long before someone picked up. "It's me," he said by way of greeting. "I have another order for you. Six bags of soil... No, no specific region, though if you know of anywhere that blood has been spilt recently... It doesn't matter what kind... Really?... No, that will do nicely. How long?... Alright. Contact me when you're in town... Mm-hm... Bye."

Kurama hung up the phone and headed back to the front desk. Eri was busy with a client so he moved over to another free clerk, an older woman with her graying hair pulled back in a tight bun. She looked up at him over the top of her half-moon spectacles, giving him a tight smile. "Hello, sir. Do you have a reservation with us?" she asked.

Kurama shook his head. "My name is Shuichi Minamino. I would like to leave a message for Mr. Yutaro," he stated.

"Alright," she said, grabbing a pad of paper sitting by the phone and writing his name at the top. "What do you want me to tell him?"

"Please inform him that the shipment should be in the day after tomorrow."

The clerk scribbled out the note, pausing slightly to see if there was more. When Kurama didn't continue, she pulled off the top page. "I will let him know."

Kurama thanked her and turned back toward the entrance, checking his watch as he exited the hotel. Not wanting to wait around thirty-five to forty minutes in the heat for the next bus, he decided to start walking to the train station instead. He figured it would probably take him fifteen to twenty minutes to get there and if he was lucky he would be able to catch the train before it left. Plus, the station had vending machines with cold drinks.

The city air was stagnant, the only breeze coming from cars driving past. Kurama ignored the feel of sweat trickling slowly down his back, making his clothes stick to his body as he walked. He tried to distract himself from the discomfort by mentally cursing the non-functional state of his car- currently in the shop having the transmission rebuilt. It was supposed to be done in only four more days, but Saturday couldn't come soon enough. He briefly wondered why it was the car only seemed to break down when it was either too hot or too cold to travel comfortably by foot.

Kurama was only a block or two from the station when he stopped short, the breath of cool air from the alley next to him just as startling as the metallic scent of blood it carried. A quick glance showed the alley didn't go straight through to the next street, although Kurama couldn't tell if it was a dead-end or not from where he was. He casually turned and headed down the alley, all his senses focused intently on his surroundings.

He walked between the trash bins, bits of shattered glass crunching softly beneath his feet as the scent of blood grew stronger. The alley was intersected by another one near its end, turning sharply to the right. Kurama raised an eyebrow at the partially melted sheet of ice covering the ground, originating from the perpendicular alley. He turned the corner only to be met with a chain link fence, also encased in ice. It didn't take him long to scale the fence, although the melting ice made it slippery, and he saw the source of the blood thirty to forty feet further down the path.

The alleyway looked like it had been taken straight from cold a day in January. Solid ice covered the ground and both walls clear up to the third floor of the buildings, long icicles hanging from the fire escapes and drainage pipes. Piles of slush were gathered in the nooks along the wall and trash bins, the humidity in the air having turned to snow when the temperature dropped below freezing, only to start melting as it gradually began to return to normal. Off to one side was a thick spear of ice coming right up from the ground, impaling a young woman with light blue hair and pinning her to the wall behind her. The spear went straight through her chest and her blood had run down it in thick streams, mixing with the melting ice pooling at her feet.

Kurama carefully made his way over to her, the water making the ice rather slippery. He brushed the blue hair away from her face, recognizing her as an ice cream vendor that would frequent the parks during the summer months. She was an ice apparition, which meant the killer that had been taking out demons had struck again.

Kurama took another look around, carefully examining everything as he tried to piece together what had happened. The ice encasing the entire area was sloppy, an incredible waste of power in a life or death situation. She must have been terrified, her powers responding to her emotions rather than her conscious thoughts. The first thing any type of combat training covered was learning to control one's power, to prevent such waste. Therefore, she was a non-combatant. The ice spear was a fairly basic technique, further proving that theory.

The only problem was Kurama could sense no youki in the area but hers. There was no doubt that the ice she was impaled on was of her own making. This was a painful and possibly even slow way to die, depending on what organs were hit and how badly they were damaged. There were much easier ways to go about committing suicide and, although demons had been much more prevalent in Japanese society since the end of the first Makai tournament, they generally did go out of their way to remain as inconspicuous as possible in day-to-day life, although all bets were off around the holidays. The majority of the nation thought the ears and tails were simply a trend the younger generation was indulging in, albeit one that had been going on for years. Kurama really had to admire the ningen ability to rationalize such things, willingly living in ignorance rather than facing an uncomfortable truth. Sometimes he was amazed their race had survived as long as it had.

Still, the facts didn't add up. She had been dead for some time and the ice covering the alley was still at least an inch thick, even with the temperature in the eighties. If it was suicide, why the emotional outburst? Fear of killing herself perhaps, but if so she would not have been able to control her powers well enough to commit the final act. Create a spear and fall on it, yes, but to actually drive it through her own chest and into the wall behind her? Not a chance.

Suicide also wouldn't explain the bruises on her arms or the one on her cheek. Judging by the size they had to have been made by something long and thin, like a stick or pipe. And the placement along her arms indicated she had been struck by someone else, probably while using her arms to shield her head. There was no way she could have done that to herself. But, then who did this to her? Why was there no second body to be found?

Kurama was missing something, but he didn't know what. He shifted to his fox form, hoping his heightened senses would provide more insight. The melting ice had already washed away the most useful information, so Kurama headed to the opposite end of the alley. Assuming she hadn't scaled the fence as he had, then that was the way she had come in. Her scent was easy enough to find once he was off the ice. She had been frightened, fleeing for her life. And the predator... Kurama blinked. A ningen? Yes, the scent was definitely human, and male at that.

Demons killing demons was one thing. Someone trying to take over his territory, for example, may have been killing demons while looking for information about Kurama himself, or as a way to draw him out. Humans killing demons, on the other hand, was a much more serious matter. That generally fell under either 'sport' or 'extermination,' neither being easily dealt with considering Reikai law still banned him from killing humans. Technically, he could if there was no other way to resolve the conflict and the current spirit detective vouched for the necessity of his actions. Otherwise, Kurama was considered to be strong enough to deal with the situation without the use of lethal force. A restriction that could prove very dangerous indeed, depending on what type of powers the ningen had developed.

He sat back, considering the scenario. A ningen male chased a female demon to a dead-end alley. He was likely too close behind her to allow her time to get over the fence, forcing a confrontation when he attacked her with a blunt weapon. He turned, staring back at the dead demon. So, how did she end up impaled on her own ice? She couldn't give him any answers, but her pursuer could.

Kurama turned his attention to the ningen's scent, following it out of the alley. Most animal-type demons tended to stay in their humanoid forms in the heart of the city, but it wasn't unheard of for raccoons, foxes, badgers and other types of small animals to be seen around town from time to time. The most reaction Kurama himself had gotten was a few surprised stares and muttered comments about 'mutations' due to his multiple tails. But, as long as he was completely non-aggressive and acted somewhat skittish (didn't let anyone close enough to touch him), people were generally content to leave him alone. It probably helped that he didn't loiter in any one place long enough for Animal Control to arrive.

The streets were fairly empty, most people avoiding walking around in the heat. The few people out and about gave him a curious glance, but nothing more than that. Kurama ignored them altogether, alternating panting to cool down and sniffing the ground every twenty or so feet to make sure he was still following the trail.

It ended at a bus stop a couple of blocks away and Kurama huffed out a breath in irritation. The ningen could have gone anywhere in the city from here. The fox turned and headed back the way he had come. As he had told Botan, he had known about the deaths, but this was the first one he'd actually seen. Was Taro investigating it? Botan hadn't said one way or the other, but someone targeting demons fell under the Spirit Detective's jurisdiction. If so, did he know or suspect that a ningen was behind it? That could explain the lack of action taken to apprehend the killer. Or, did Taro simply not have any leads? Botan said that Reikai didn't have any information and the newest spirit detective was still rather wet behind the ears when it came to dealing with the supernatural.

Kurama paused as he reached another alley. It had plenty of places for him to hide long enough to change back to his human form. He hesitated, considering. By now, he had missed the train and would have to backtrack to get to the station. The bus stop he'd just left was going in the wrong direction and it wasn't worth heading back to the one he'd gotten off of originally. His house was too far a distance away to comfortably walk to...as a human. Walking around in this heat as a fox was unpleasant. Walking around in this heat as a human was downright miserable.

Tongue lolling in a canine grin, Kurama continued heading down the street. It'd been a long time since he'd gone out on the town in his fox form and it was good to stretch his legs every now and then.

. . .

To Be Continued

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