Disclaimer: I do not own SkipBeat!
Special thanks to Elfnftzu for beta-reading, making it readable, so that you guys would not have eyesore later xD
Chapter 1
The sky was still dark when she woke. Shuddering, clammy and fighting to breathe. Through the curtain of the window, a somber hint of streetlight slipped, casting murky shadows on her bed. Her body continued to tremble as she crawled up to sit on the edge of the bed. For a moment she sat there, with her sweaty forehead pressed against her knees, trying to calm down while the dream faded.
It was the same dream. One which had haunted her for thirteen years.
All the blood, she thought, as she looked at her hands, never went away. But she knew it was no use to dwell on the past, she had to push it aside. Brushing away the cold tears, she got out of bed.
It was shy of five in the morning when she took her shower. She stood still under the spray, letting the cold stream of water fall listlessly over her face, her body, to wash away the dream.
She was taking a mug of hot coffee from the kitchen when her communicator flashed. It then announced in a cold, female tone:
"Dispatch, Lieutenant Mogami Kyoko. Incident at Fifty-Seven Uptown Shibuya, seventeenth floor. Homicide. Female"
Friday, 0530 hours.
The morning air of Tokyo in 2020 was fresh and enlivening. The sun had began its ascent, bringing along its warm light to clear the thick clouds that hovered overhead. Even at this hour there were people setting up food carts and stores at the roadside, filling the air with the scent of sukiyaki noodles, ramen and simple sushi. However few, there were also casually dressed pedestrians chatting with each other or busy indulging themselves in steaming ramen to start the day. And much to Kyoko's delight, the traffic was clear and smooth.
Nothing worse than getting stuck in heavy traffic, drowned in the sea of horns and vehicles.
As she parked her car outside the building, she took time to study the building and the surroundings before stepping onto the sidewalk. There was a row of shops beside the building that were still closed and a park on the opposite side, which was currently occupied by a few people who were taking a brisk walk, unaware that something horrible had taken place in their neighborhood. The environment looked friendly, she mused. Calm and peaceful.
The building itself looked dignified, twenty floors of gleaming metals and tinted glasses. Statues that made from white stones stood guard on either side of the entrance and a flight of stone steps.
She showed her badge to the uniformed officer guarding the entrance.
"Lieutenant." He saluted.
She returned the salute and asked, "First on scene, officer?"
"I wasn't, sir. We have a homicide in suite number Seventeen-one-two, seventeenth floor, female victim. Detective Amamiya is inside waiting for you." He led her down the hallway to one of the elevators.
She studied the hall. The security was high-end, with full cameras at all possible angles, card detectors, palm screens and two guards at the reception. It was safe to say that this place was secured and protected.
Still, a woman died in her own suite.
She stepped out of the elevator alone and wasn't surprised that the narrow hallway was once again, equipped with full cameras. She walked soundlessly on the carpeted floor approaching 1712.
She held her badge up again to show the officer guarding the room, and entered.
Crime Scene had beaten her to the suite. They were dusting off fingerprints and bagging whatever looked suspicious. She gave the room a quick survey. Good furniture—an L-shaped sofa in the color of maroon, a 40-inch wall screen, long windows that held the view of the city and scented white candles on every tables. A woman with taste and knew exactly how to enjoy.
She was one step into the kitchen when her partner, Senior Detective Amamiya Chiori, called her.
"Sir." She bowed her head lightly. Although she was Kyoko's partner, she was still two-ranks lower than her. Well, not that she had any grudges against that, in fact, she respected Kyoko.
Kyoko was young for her rank, twenty-six for the title of Lieutenant. To Chiori, she was the epitome of intelligence and grace, even as a police officer. She had a brain that can think and respond quickly and effectively, reflexes that put even her trainer in awe. She had a pair of golden eyes that was steel cold when it came to cases, long black hair that was tied back in a ponytail for convenience rather than fashion, and a face that was slim and pretty. Despite all that, she had a reputation in the force. And when she locked her gaze on you, you knew she'd earned it.
She had been her partner for one full year, and she could say they are friends. However, Chiori still didn't know much about her, except for the fact that she was an orphan. But either way, she was grateful to Kyoko for choosing her as her partner.
"Who's the victim?"
"The victim was identified as Izumi Mai." She waited, staring hopefully at her partner.
Nothing.
"Izumi Mai, sir. The Izumi Mai." She prompted.
And nothing.
Let out an exasperated sigh, she mumbled. "I shouldn't expect it…"
"Who?" Kyoko asked. Genuinely clueless.
"Izumi Mai, sir. Twenty-two-year-old, the daughter of the president of Izumi Corporate, and a model who had been listed as one of the Rising Stars in The Magazine."
And neither rang any bells in her head.
"We'll get to the bio later. Who's that woman?" She titled her head to the direction where a woman was sunk in a chair, crying. Her face was pale and ravaged with tears. She had a mane of brown hair, which framed her face with soft curls. She wore a white-collar suit and a grey tight skirt. Her right hand, which was holding a cup of water, was trembling.
"Takashi Ayano. She's the one who called it in. Claimed to be the victim's manager."
"Talk to her, Amamiya. See if you can get anything out. We need the daily schedule of the victim."
"Yes, sir."
She turned, and walked into the bathroom.
Death always left a mess behind, and it certainly did in this case. The violence, the brutality and the cruelty of it were clear.
The metallic smell of blood hung in the air. Blood had splattered and begrimed the gleaming beige tiles. It had showered over the white bathtub, where a hand hung lifelessly over the edge, with blood dripping slowly onto the floor.
The water inside was dark and bloody. The body that lay inside the dreary red water had its head on the bath pillow. The head was tilted back just enough to reveal the vicious gaping wound at the throat. The blood had bled down her neck, down her chest, and into the water.
Her eyes were open, still and wide. She didn't have the chance to close them. And never would.
For an instant, Kyoko stared and saw her father. Laying on the bed, slashed throat and the blood—Blood—
She closed her eyes, and wanted to get out from the bathroom when a hand tapped on her shoulder.
She jerked.
"Sir? Kyoko-san?" Chiori took a step back, taken aback by her reaction.
Her eyes snapped open. No. Not her father. Not now. No.
She pushed the thought aside.
"Kyoko?" Amamiya looked at her, worried.
"I'm alright. I'm okay." She took a deep breath. "Let's get to work."
"Yes, sir."
She slipped on a pair of gloves, sealing her hands and walked over to the bathtub.
"Record the scene." She told Chiori. And went back to the body after her partner had turned on the recorder.
"Victim identified as Izumi Mai. Japanese, twenty-two-year-old. She was found in her bathroom at the apartment by her manager, Takashi Ayano." She leaned over the tub to examine the neck wound. "Preliminary visual exam indicates that death was caused by a sharp instrument that slit the throat, severing jugular. Instant death." She checked the hand of the body, and around the tub. "There was no signs of relocating the body, primary crime scene would be here." She stopped when she sensed another presence in the room.
She swirled around and found Fuwa Shotaro standing at the doorway. He was a handsome man in his late twenties. His blond hair shone under the bathroom light, he was tall and his lean body wrapped in a black suit under a white coat. He was the Chief Medical Examiner of Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.
Looking at him, she often wondered why he'd settled for a not-so-pleasant job like this instead of being an artist. Well, she wouldn't deny that he had the potential. He was already famous in the department after all.
"Nasty." He said, looking at her.
She shrugged. "Death always does that."
She smiled at his assistant when she stepped into the room right after him.
"Good morning, Mogami-san, Amamiya-san." She nodded and returned the smile.
"Morning."
"Shoko-san, it's been a while. Where'd you been?" Chiori asked.
"Ah. I was on vacation at—"
"Stop the chit-chat, ladies, we're not here to party." He glanced at them and walked towards the body. "Go away, Lieutenant. Let me do my job."
Her eyes narrowed. "Manners, Fuwa Shotaro. You don't want me to put a stunner to your neck."
His lips twitched. "It's Fuwa Sho."
She gave him a sly smile. "Is that a request?"
He snorted, and turned around to lift the body out of the bathtub with the help of his assistant.
They lay the body on the tiles, and Aki covered her with a black sheet. Sho took his instruments out from the case. "Time of death is estimated at twelve to two in the morning. Based on the temperature of the body and the water, she was in the tub pre-mortem."
He moved closer to the neck. "The throat wound is six inches across." He measured it competently while Aki recorded all the measurements. He used another tool, which was relatively thinner. "The depth is approximately one-point-five inches."
"Ouch." Chiori said.
"One cut, and she's gone." Kyoko commented. "The killer had to be strong enough to do that."
"A man."
"Hmm…" Kyoko put a hand under her chin and leaned over his shoulder to get a better look.
"Stand aside, woman. You're blocking my light." He said without turning his head.
She frowned at him but decided to take a step back. It wasn't wise to anger the doctor, since she needed the result.
He put a metal calipers on the wound. "A knife, approximately seven to nine inches long, at least three inches wide." He stopped to check the other parts of the body. "No signs of struggle or defensive wounds."
Kyoko looked over to her partner. "The security?"
"All the security discs from the main hall and the corridor had been sent to the Electronics Department. Sweepers said there was no forced entry, or any fingerprints other than the victim's."
Kyoko frowned. "So we can assume the victim knew the killer, opened the door, let him in voluntarily. And we know that this guy was careful and thorough, he may also have sealed his hands before coming over. He had it all planned." She paused, and looked out into the bedroom.
Empty wine glasses were placed on the nightstand, tangled bed sheet and dead white waxes at every corner. When her eyes drifted back into the bathroom, there were once again, white candles—half-burned, at every corner.
"A ceremony." She said.
"And it's only the beginning."
Friday, 1300 hours. Tokyo Police Headquarters. Homicide Department.
Lieutenant Mogami Kyoko was sitting behind her desk in her office with her brows knitted. She had read all the reports.
Not good.
Based on the autopsy report from Fuwa Sho, the victim was killed at one-fifteen in the morning and had engaged in sexual activity the hour before she was killed. However, there was no sperm found in the her body. Much to her chagrin, there was no luck with the result from the forensic sweepers either.
So the only reason she'd came up with was the victim's birth control had eliminated all of them after ejaculation.
The tox report had indicated there was drug in the victim's system. A chemical that had yet to be identified. Probably homemade.
From the sweepers' report, there weren't any other fingerprints found except for the victim's in the whole apartment. There was no sign of the murder weapon.
No blood, no DNA, no weapon.
Sighing, she put a hand at the bridge of her nose, suppressing the headache that was coming up.
After a while, she flipped open the third folder. It was from the lab.
The wine had been drugged too, with the same chemical found in the body. The killer had used it to weaken her, lower her resistance. Was he incapable of holding her down if she fought? Disabled? However, the amount of it used was just enough to keep her conscious.
He wanted her to be alive when he raked the knife across her throat.
He wanted her to watch.
Disgusted, she moved on to the next page.
All the candles that found in the crime site were made from the same materials, same manufacturer. Whether the victim or the killer bought them, it was worth a shot. They could get lucky with this.
Lastly, she slipped the security disc into her computer. The fifth time.
Shibuya Building. Entrance A. 15/4/2020 20:00
Kyoko fast-forwarded the time to 23:45 and watched the glitch happened at exactly 23:47. The whole screen had gone black, and shifted back to normal at 01:55.
Precisely two hours and eight minutes lost.
She ejected the disc and inserted a new one.
It was the same for all. Nearly two hours and more had been cleverly wiped clean.
And he had spent almost one and a half hour with her before the murder. Why? He wanted the process and the stage. And why chose white candles? Ritual killing? Hmm…No, she thought. There wasn't anything religious about the scene. It was a ceremony, perhaps from the killer's perspective.
Kyoko walked over to the window, looked down at the miserable traffic and the busy pedestrians. So the man understood security and electronics, she mused. No ordinary man could do something like this. Aside from the glitch, he had to bypass the coded main door, the palm screen and the card detectors. And since the Electronics Department was having a hard time to revive the lost timeframe, she could make a conjecture that his man was a professional in this area.
Besides, he had to have certain medical knowledge to make the drug. The composition and dosage. Doctor? Pharmacist? Drug dealer?
She was about to sit down when Chiori knocked, and entered her office with one cup of steaming coffee in her hand and a file in the other.
"Thank you, Amamiya. Finished your interview with Takashi-san?" She drank the coffee and enjoyed the sensation of it clearing her harried brain.
"Yes." She handed her the blue file.
"Here's the report. The thing is…" She sat down in one of the guest chair. "We might get to interview a lot of stars."
Kyoko looked up from the report, amused. "There are stars every night, Amamiya. Get a telescope and you can see them clearly."
She pouted. "I was talking about human stars, sir. Artists. As in singers, models, actors and actresses."
Kyoko laughed. "I'm not bringing you to any of the interviews."
"Ehhh? No way, Kyoko-san, I have to—No, sir, I mean, WE have to go." She leaned forward, "It's a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Kyoko-san! We can meet—"
Kyoko closed the file. "Tsuruga Ren?"
Chiori's eyes widen. "Yes! Yes! Tsuruga Ren. The Tsuruga Ren. You know him?"
She nodded. "Not personally. I'd only seen him in television and billboards. He's quite famous."
"Very famous. He is the Top Actor in Japan and ranked number one as Japan Most Desirable Man." Chiori's eyes were sparkled in excitement.
"Amamiya-san" Kyoko put both of her hands on the desk.
"He was mentioned in the report." She said calmly.
"Yes." Chiori nodded.
"He had a dinner with the victim before she got killed."
"Ah..."
She saw her partner frowned and realization took over. The amusement was gone and Kyoko's eyes turned dead cold.
"He is a suspect."
"…Yes, sir." Chiori's shoulder slumped.
Friday, 1500 hours. Tokyo Police Headquarters. Homicide Department.
Kyoko was alone in her office again after she had sent off Amamiya to track the names of the people who bought candles of the same brand and do some cross-checking. It was going to take quite some time.
Holding her cooled coffee in hand, she turned to her computer and switched on Voice Command.
"Computer, display data of Tsuruga Ren, Japanese Actor."
She took a sip as the data brought on screen.
Tsuruga Ren, born 10-02-1990, ID number 942119-06-JLP, parents unknown, no given address, marital status is single. Debuted in 2005, age of fifteen, as a model. Debuted in 2005, age of fifteen, as an actor.
2005 – The Man
2005 – Why
2005 – Fly To The Sky
2006 – Poison
2006 – Deadly Message
"Stop." The data paused.
"Computer, is Tsuruga Ren a stage name?"
Unknown.
Her brows furrowed. "Place of birth?"
Unknown.
"Education?"
No data.
"Medical Record?"
2007—Second degree stomach inflammation. Admitted for—
"Criminal Record?"
No data.
She scowled at the screen. What? Might as well be an alien, she thought.
Sighing. "Computer, save all data to disc and end operation."
She stood up, and walked to her windows again with the humming sound of her computer in the background.
Across the street, Tsuruga Ren stared back at her from the billboard. He was unnaturally handsome, she thought. He had an aesthetic face, with refined cheekbones and sculpted mouth. His hair was dark and a few stands of it were resting against his forehead, framing his face. He wore a suit for the advertisement, black and sleek, over his tall and rangy form. And not to mention his eyes, the Celtic blue of them carried such intensity that could make you melt.
She stood there contemplating. This was a man who carried power and authority. But would he kill? For what purpose?
She was going to meet him.
Soon.
A/N: For those who'd asked, I am NOT abandoning "Strangers In Dark". Just facing some blocks right now TT But I'd started writing chapter 8, hopefully those blocks will be gone by then. So please bear with me for a while ne~ *bow*
Thank you to those who'd reviewed, faved, alerted this story. Thank you! xDDD