Chapter Seven: Night Making itself at Home

[Warning: Contains Violent Death and Implied Rape (not between the pairing, don't worry)]

"Madam, Sir, the young master is missing!" Shachi had declared the minute he'd walked through the doors of the study. The two didn't even blink, just turned to him slowly.

"Shachi, that is not the correct behaviour of someone of your...standing" Arabella raised an eyebrow before returning to her book.

"Did you not hear me? He's gone! Do you know where?" Shachi asked, voice heightened with desperation and the sir sighed.

"For goodness sake, do not get into such a state. Did he not tell you? The local hospital needed his services in the town, he left late this afternoon. We don't know when he will be back" he rolled his eyes. Shachi stood motionless in the doorway. Staring at the two incredulously. Were they telling the truth? Surely Shachi would have seen Penguin or he would have told someone else? The Madam and Sir wouldn't have let him run off to the hospital when it was nothing but their hobby to diminish any interests in a medical career. The auburn haired man knew there and then he would get no help from the cousins and he straightened up.

"I see, my apologies. Have a good evening"

"Yes, thank you" Arabella dismissed him and the servant left.

As soon as he had left the study, Shachi stormed to the kitchen. Some of the staff must know what was going on.

The night made itself at home in sky, blanketing it in deep blue. Well, you could only glimpse at the slithers of colour among the smog of the city. Kirā sighed, looking away. There were no stars here like there were with Penguin. Tightening his scarf, he turned the corner of the dim streets. Familiar to the constant buzz of life. It was late. Women laughed on the arms of men as they trailed into the local halls. Men darting into pubs and truding out afterwards, utterly intoxicated. Kirā smirked as there was the sound of a glass smash and a great roaring cheer from one of the public houses he passed. He had no interest in business there tonight. No, he was attending one of the upper-class parties. Well...he wasn't going in of course.

For now he was heading over simply to scope out the place. He'd be making a business transaction shortly nearby and wanted to know the exact location. Once he was content as staring up at the large doors and pillars about the well lit building. He nodded to himself and made his way back to the hotel he was residing at. But not before one last visit to somewhere special.

Of course the cemetery was empty. Even the grave-diggers having gone home for the night and as the moon rose higher, the grave-robbers would soon begin their duties. For now a mist settled about the dewy grass and stubby gravestones. Kirā went past all of them, he had one in particular to visit.

Underneath a small tree, was one with a crooked corner. Bashed off after a scuffle with police and robbers. Kirā smirked as he stood before it. Just made it easier to remember. He took a moment just to gaze upon the crumbling form. With dark words etched into the side, laced with tiny cobwebs.

"In Memory of Shiraishi Tatsuya"

A cheap gravestone. One that only just had the name of the one deceased. Of course the dates of the ones lifespan beneath, a life of only fourteen years. A young, tragic, romantic death. It would seem that way to anyone looking from the outside. But in truth, it was bloody and flies still swarmed the tale.

Kirā looked away, over the small hills of the graveyard to the outer city, you still couldn't see the stars. But that's what made him more and more certain of his actions. All these little things, the grand doors, the tree above the gravestone, the absence of the stars. It all reminded him of the young master he was going to return to.

And so he loosened the bag on his back and took from its strappings a shovel. Kirā didn't even bother checking for anyone who might stop him. He wouldn't be here long. Besides, it's not like he could rob himself.

Upturning the dry earth until a thin sheen of sweat marred his flesh, he finally hit solidity. Scraping about the wooden shape, the blonde finally pulled out the chest, There was no coffin to be buried here. Only the soul of someone he once was, the erasure of a name he once had until that night.

That night that he'd ran through the gardens and fields outside his humble home. A village he lived in with his family. His large, beautiful family. The place had been attacked by raiders, bandits. Men of no country nor honour. The young Tatsuya still wouldn't know eleven years later whether he wished he'd been in that house when it had happened. Whether to be strung up and cut to bleed with his two brothers and cousins was what fate wanted for him. But there would always be a part of him that would fill with bitter pride at his actions.

He hadn't needed to look upon the leg-spread corpses of his sister, mother, two cousins and aunt long before he knew they were dead. He couldn't bear to look at the men upon them at all. His father, where was he? Running past the shattered windows, ears pulsing with the laughter and screams of the dogs in his home. Of course his father and uncle were dead. Skulls smashed through like the fruits they grew.

Tatsuya had barricaded the door with a heavy brick that scraped his arms and tore down his soul. He took the scythe from the shed and held it in his right hand, the form looming above him as he clicked flint and steel from the same shed upon the straw shavings of his thatched roof that lay by the ground. It took time, Tatsuya cutting his fingers red, he couldn't see for all the tears in his eyes and his hands trembled so much. What if they left and found him? What would they do? Would they mistake him for a girl with his hair his mother had always said was so pretty?

Finally, a spark. It didn't take long. In hindsight they shouldn't have had such a flammable house but it was all that was important right now. Stepping away from the searing, licking flames. The cries in the house became those of panic. Of course some clambered through the glass split windows and Tatsuya was ready. He swung the scythe like he'd been doing all these years. Their throats as easy to cut as the long crops. Though these bandits made much more mess.

Killer's throat hurt, from smoke or screaming he didn't know. But soon it was over. Smoke cascading into the sky as though a long-gone cry for help. Tainting the pearly, cloudless blue that Killer stared up to among the grass of his garden. Limbs outstretched, burnt and cut. He didn't care his breathing was shallow, he didn't care even when the fire died down and the other villages rushed to it's ruins. He was gone by then. And so was Shiraishi Tatsuya .

He didn't bother covering up the hole. Kirā would never need to look upon this grave again and with any luck. They'd uproot the stone. Settling under the tree, uncaring of the damp grass, he opened the chest with a key always kept on his belt. Inside was everything he had left. All the riches and money he'd made over the years since he was seventeen. It was this saved treasure that would take him away from here and up North with Penguin.

There would no doubt be need for extra income in the future, but that was something to deal with then. Kirā thought back to telling the young woman at the manor what to tell the young master. Would he even be happy? Or angry Kirā had made him go through the sadness of saying farewell? Well there was one more job to do and Kirā could find out for himself.

Penguin was still waiting in the reception. He'd been more than a little shocked when Madam Mint had told him about a local emergency. He didn't even know if he could help yet and now in the main reception; quiet other from the receptionist quietly writing behind the desk, he was bewildered by the interest of his cousins. Of course he was suspicious but it was a bit like the boy who cried wolf, he couldn't not go and help out due to his doubts in case there was a genuine problem. To be honest, why else would his cousins want him here of all places?

The receptionist had told him to wait from the get-go, now he'd been here...what...an hour and a half? He was definitely beginning to think something was up now. But why would the receptionist get involved.

Leaning his head back against the wall, he sighed. This was too much for his brain right now. The young master was just going to confront the receptionist and say he was going to leave if he wasn't needed. Just as he sat up, the young man at the desk turned to him and nodded.

"You can go through now, it's the third room to the left in that corridor" he pointed and Penguin blinked dumbly before straightening up and thanking him.

Walking through the neutrally painted medical centre, the young master was surprised at how quiet it was in general. Finally turning up at a door which read "Dr. Root". An unusual and not exactly appealing name but who was Penguin to judge. Knocking politely, he was bothered at the lack of an answer. Finally coming to the conclusion something definitely wasn't right, he walked through into the room after opening the door.

"Ah, sorry about not answering young master, was just about to" were the first words of the man sitting at the desk. He had shocking green hair and too-white teeth that he bared at the entering man.

"Please, take a seat"

"What is this about?" Penguin asked, not moving from the doorway.

"Your cousins wanted you to come and talk to me about your medical interests as a career" the man purred, steepling his fingers under his chin.

Penguin highly doubted that.

"Well, maybe another time. Thank you but-"

"Oh please, sit down and have a drink and let us talk"

"I was told there was an emergency, I am busy back home and do not have time for this" Penguin was more stern. By busy he totally meant busy crying into his pillow but it was all the same to him. Plus he didn't trust this man, he'd never even heard of a Doctor Root.

"And here I was told Vanilla, honey and apricot was your favourite kind of tea" the man gestured to the mug on the side and without another word, the young master spun on his heel to leave.

"I wouldn't if I were you, young master" was the grim threat and Penguin stepped back at the sight of a looming man in the doorway. Penguin thought about dodging past but he was just too big. Someone gripped his hands and tightened them at the small of his back. It was the 'doctor'. "Hold him still, Drill, I'm getting the tea this little rich boy was too fucking rude to taste" the man hissed and Penguin shivered at the spray of spit on the back of his neck. He then squirmed in the much heavier grasp of the bigger man.

"Som-SOMEONE-" he was choked with a hand about his throat and the next thing he knew, his nose was being pinched and mouth being forced open as hot liquid slid down, scolding his tongue and gums. Sputtering and struggling, Penguin felt tears brim in his eyes.

They were done soon enough. Penguin wasn't a fool, he knew there was something in that tea and it wouldn't be long until he blacked out. He didn't do anything until Drill dropped him with an ugly grin.

"Look at him Root, he's like a worm"

"Yeah, well keep an eye on him. Got to let the client know it's done"

"Wh-who?" Penguin managed, his mouth felt like cotton. Stuffed and dry.

"Hm...well since you won't be seeing them again, no harm in letting the cat out of the bag" Root shrugged with a sly smile. He crouched down to the young man and hissed. "Your dear cousin, Arabella organised us. Of course Sandhurst helped with the payment".

Penguin felt his stomach lurch with a fearful and angered sickness but truly he wasn't surprised. Looking across the room, he saw some bottles of medicine on the shelf. Writhing forward again, he hoped the two thought he was just trying to distance himself.

"God, how long does the poison take?" Drill groaned, folding his massive arms. Just as he finished speaking Penguin lunged up as much as his heavy body would let him and knocked over one of the vials. The bright substance spilling onto the tiles.

"Hey?! What are you playing at?!" Root snarled, walking over to kick the young master in the side hard. Penguin was thrown onto his back and he coughed violently. With that he felt the light above blur until it went dark.

The money was safe in the hotel, no one would try anything in the few hours it would take to finish his latest business deal. He'd made sure he could leave the city soon, he'd be back to Penguin by dawn. God he wished to hold the young master again. Kirā couldn't stop thinking about the soft tufts of hair, his sugary scent and his lips. His laughter and his blush. God, he was in deep.

Wasn't far now. It wasn't much later and the streets were still buzzing, but soon they would all be within their parties and the streets would be quiet enough for him to meet his next customer.

Shachi burst into the small hospital, often known as a medical centre, and it took no more than a few minutes to watch the receptionist he'd never seen before struggle with the last of his belongings and run out down one of the corridors. Shachi wanted to follow him but instead went to where he could see a slither of light from further down the left corridor. There weren't many patients and those that stayed overnight were out back. The staff had gone home or were out back too so there was only reason a light would still be on.

Swinging the door open his eyes were drawn to the empty mug on the desk with tea dripping down the sides, a little splattered on the floor and his gaze followed up to a bright green liquid spilt on the tiles. Stepping slowly to it after surveying the room and deciding it was empty, he narrowed his eyes at the blood stains he could now see. The brightness of the room made it easier to see things in general. There was a few moments of confusion for the servant before it all clicked.

Grace mentioned a city horse and a brutish driver, why would Penguin's cousins want him to come here? Why was there a single emptied vial? That was bright, almost mint green…

Shachi inhaled air sharply through his nose and stumbled back. Oh god. They'd forced Penguin into the city. They'd attacked him here, hired muscle no doubt. Penguin must have broken the bottle on purpose the clever bastard.

Shachi then felt the blood in his face drain, leaving his skin cold as he remembered the conversation of the two. They didn't want something being traced back to them. They'd be getting a long term gain. Shachi didn't let himself stand there uselessly any longer and raced as quick as he could manage out the hospital back to the manor. They were going to kill Penguin.

Kirā had managed to get the hood of his cloak over his head, that extra bit of mystery. And then of course the thought of being secretive made him think back to his young master. How they were both so hidden and yet so compatible. The conversations that were always so calm and sweet together. Kirā clenched his teeth a little as he walked back to the destination he'd scoped out before. He wouldn't deny it, he felt a little bit of regret in lying to Penguin though, about his name and about his job as a "merchant", but he supposed it sounded a lot like "Mercenary" anyway. As did Kirā sound like Killer, the name he really went by in these parts.

It had been his way of living since seventeen and he'd be damned if he wasn't good at it. It paid well and was at least some kind of outlet for his constant underlying rage, if not a healthy one. Killer really had seen it all and now he'd decided he'd seen enough. He could utilise other skills for the future. It didn't always have to be this way and maybe, just maybe if he ever told Penguin, he could also thank the young master for being the catalyst for this change.

He was broken from his fanciful thoughts as the carriage arrived. Exactly as the clients had described it. Regal looking but without colour, big enough for two at most with a charming horse at front, disciplined. Controlled by a sour looking driver. Some rich-cat attending one of those political parties. At least it would be quite a satisfactory kill.

Killer looked down to his belt, taking out the two short scythe like blade that he spent a little time hooking to braces on his wrists. Narrowing his eyes through his fringe, he knew that the second he saw a foot leave that carriage doorway, he would run and slice his throat.

A/N: Shit son, I gave him a name! It's been something I've avoided but I don't know, it worked for this story. By the way, I kept to the Japanese order, in English it would be "Tatsuya Shiraishi" but you already knew that. Just so you know, I didn't just grab a name, I looked at the meaning and whether I thought it suited him, well, whether I thought it did or not I guess.

Tatsuya: This name combines 達 (tatsu, da, -tachi) meaning "accomplished, arrive, attain, reach", 竜 (ryuu, ryou, rou, ise, tatsu) meaning "dragon, imperial", 辰 (shin, jin, tatsu) meaning "sign of the dragon (5th sign of Chinese zodiac)" or 樹 (ju, ki, tatsu) meaning "timber trees, wood" with 也 (e, ya, ka, nari, mata) meaning "to be (archaic form)", 哉 (sai, kana, ya) meaning "alas, how, question mark, what", 矢 (shi, ya) meaning "arrow, dart" or 弥 (bi, mi, amaneshi, iya, iyoiyo, tooi, hisashi, , ya, ) meaning "all the more, increasingly."

Shiraishi: Last name origin & meaning: Japanese: meaning 'white rock'; the surname is found mostly in west-central Japan and the island of Shikoku. It is also a habitational name from a place in Rikuchū (now Iwate prefecture).

So what's going to happen now? I've been praying this has actually come as a surprise so you know, let me know whether you actually were surprised or something! Ahahaha.

-LAW09

CHAPTER EIGHT UPDATE: Monday 15th August 2016