Dark Adaptation.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine loves. I don't own much of anything. All I own is a laptop, a PS2 and a whacky imagination. I would like to keep all three of them since I've already lost my sanity to fanfiction. Don't sue me PLEASE! (Puppy eyes)

Note: (Checks notes on clipboard) So… whom do we have in today's chapter? Ah… Watari and Tsuzuki! Watari's section is a follow up from the last chapter, whilst Tsuzuki is going to be getting down and dirty with Muraki! (Watches readers scroll through the chapter to get to the 'down and dirty.') Wait! I think you misunderstood! Because of the chapter length, I have been forced to segregate Muraki and Tsuzuki's date until next chapter. They do speak in this chappie but if you want to see more, you'll have to wait for the next update. The sex scenes are fast approaching but they will not be in this chapter I'm sorry!

Muraki: (Hits Hickok with a spork) Rot in hell, bitch.

Hickok: (Cowers) I'm sorry! I'm sorry! (Whimpers)

Additional Note: The revised version of Chapter 9! Only a few little additions to note. A little extra at the end of Watari's chapter, as it only occurred to me that Watari never actually got the samples from Oriya like he said! So that has been added and Tsuzuki's section has been neatened up and a few minor alterations made. I hope you find it smoother reading, everyone! Enjoy!

Dirty Little Secrets

Heaven bend to take my hand

Lead me through the fire

Be the long awaited answer

To a long and painful fight

Truth be told I tried my best

But somewhere along the way

I got caught up in all there was to offer

But the cost was so much more than I could bear

Though I've tried I've fallen

I have sunk so low

I messed up

Better I should know

So don't come round here and

Tell me I told you so

We all begin out with good intent

When love is raw and young

We believe that we can change ourselves

The past can be undone

But we carry on our back the burdens time always reveals

In the lonely light of morning

In the wound that would not heal

It's the bitter taste of losing everything

I've held so dear

Though I've tried I've fallen

I have sunk so low

I messed up

Better I should know

So don't come round here and

Tell me I told you so

Heaven bend to take my hand

I've nowhere left to turn

I'm lost to those I thought were friends

To everyone I know

Oh they turn their heads embarrassed

Pretend that they don't see

Though it's one wrong step one slip before you know it

And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed

Though I've tried I've fallen

I have sunk so low

I messed up

Better I should know

So don't come round here and

Tell me I told you so

"Fallen" – Sarah McLachlan

"In any man who dies there dies with him
his first snow and kiss and fight...
Not people die but worlds die in them."

~Yevgeny Yevtushenko, "People"

XxXxXxXxXx

Watari

I had my shower. My cold shower thanks to Oriya Mibu. The nerve of him, making such a sexually provocative insinuation when I was trying to behave myself! What did he think I was? A woman? I couldn't be expected to have infinite control over my hormones!

Needless to say, the shower felt wonderful. The cool water seemed to extinguish my fiery hunger, washing away the filth from my flesh as well as my mind. I scrubbed every inch of my body, shampooed my hair, rubbed a sweet smelling shower gel into my skin and checked my legs to make sure they didn't need shaving. I plucked away a few stray hairs and then cleaned my face of any remaining makeup. When I got out, I wrapped a towel around my waist and spent a good few minutes wringing the excess water out from my hair. I put on moisturizer, deodorant and rubbed a detangling lotion into my locks. It trailed down my back in aggressive snarls, bunched together in a demonstration of protest. I went through this usual battle with my hair every other day. It liked to put up a fight when it came to brushing it.

Gushoshin didn't have the decency to give me a break either. When I emerged from the bathroom he tutted disapprovingly from behind the laptop. Somehow he'd managed to set up most of the equipment in the fifteen… okay, twenty minutes I had been in the shower. Let's just say I had a lot of dirt to clean up… and NO not like that!

"Oh what!?" I exclaimed, snapping the towel in his direction and then retying it back around my waist. The bird shook its' head at me.

"It's just… you humans." He seemed mystified. "I was thinking of something Terazuma-san once said to me that actually now makes a lot of sense."

"Oh really? What did he say?" I asked as I fished a brush out of my luggage and made my way over to the bathroom to use the mirror. Oriya had kindly given us a luxurious room, complete with view, plenty of space to spare and an en-suite. The en-suite even had a portable spa or hot tub. I couldn't think of the right word to describe it. It was large though, large enough for three or more adults and maybe a midget or two, with a dark cedar decking, temperature setting, jet pressure and steps on two sides. The shower stall was ridiculously big too. I wondered if the previous tenant had been a giant or if Oriya was just seriously overcompensating for something. … I hoped it was that first one.

The Gushoshin paused in whatever task he had been in the midst of to look over towards the bathroom. "Terazuma-san said he could see why you and Tsuzuki-san get along so well. If I remember correctly, his exact words were; 'One of them only thinks about his stomach and the other only thinks about what hangs beneath it."

I nearly yanked my hair out of my head. "Gushoshin!" I cried, outraged. "That you would even repeat such a crude observation! I am appalled by your lack of decorum! And I shall have you know, just for the record, that I don't only think about my stomach!"

Gushoshin sweatdropped. "Actually… I think you were meant to be that second one."

I ignored him as I set to work untangling my wavy hair. Oriya may have thought it was beautiful (it still gave me thrills when I thought back to what he had said) but it was a damn nuisance to take care of. Sometimes more than it was worth really. It was a tedious process and I usually got through it by sitting in front of the television whilst I brushed it or tricking Tsuzuki into doing it for me. I would bribe him with sweets and cakes until he was prepared to hook my locks into a complicated French braid. Cruel yes but I think any woman could understand.

I was finished with it in about eight or so minutes, a record for me. But I put that down to the fact that I had only gone through this process a few hours earlier. I wanted to hook up my hairdryer and give it a proper teasing out but I realistically told myself that I didn't have the time, even if Oriya had taken a liking to how it looked out. I was going to be examining bodies. It wasn't practical to have my hair swishing all over the place. With that in mind, I twisted as much of it as possible into a tight braid, even the pieces I usually wore long at the front. I placed my glasses atop the bridge of my nose and then bounced over to my bag. I started to root through it for clean clothing.

I spent an inappropriate amount of time thinking about what Oriya had said about my being a distraction. I didn't believe him for a second that this had been the real reason he had for requesting that I not be sent. I could sense now that his true reason wasn't so cruel as I had previously believed, not that I was one to be concerned with how others perceived me. I wanted Oriya to like me and I got the feeling he liked me just fine. At the moment. There was some other reason why he hadn't wanted me here.

Could it have been that he knew?

I dismissed the thought and continued fossicking. No, he couldn't possibly have known about her. If he hadn't even known I was married then there wasn't a chance he knew anything else relating to my life before I became a Shinigami. I was just clutching at straws and rather flimsy straws at that. No, Oriya's reason was something substantial to do with the business he ran. And not the ridiculous notion that all his customers were going to pay so much attention to me that they would forget about the geiko. That was flattering but it wasn't the truth. I'm cute but I'm not on the same level of loveliness as people like Muraki and I'm sure business went fine whenever he was here. Then again… maybe it didn't. What did I know?

I could think about it later. Right now I had a more important dilemma to contend with. What kind of clothing was appropriate to wear in an okiya? Oriya wore an old fashioned kimono but I knew on me, it would look entirely stupid and sexless. I wasn't tall enough or wide enough in the shoulders to pull off something like that. I liked bright, form fitting clothing. Still, I did want to make a good impression, though it's not as though I'd looked dashing when I'd slopped up to the doorstep like a walking mud pie.

Could Oriya possibly ever be attracted to me? He didn't seem like the kind of person who would jump someone just because he heard that they liked him. I slapped myself hard on the head, causing Gushoshin to jump in shock. I was getting distracted again. What was I allowing myself to be so worked up about? Judging by his attitude, it seemed that he wasn't against getting to know me better. Excusing his bad taste in theatre, I hadn't found anything about him I didn't like. I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking about the way he'd moved against me when we'd fallen down the stairs together.

I wondered what Oriya would have been like as a sexual partner. I didn't imagine that he would be a fiercely passionate lover, rather he would be controlled and his pace would be gentle but at the same time substantial enough to satisfy. The thought of that beautiful body naked and pressed to my own was stirring something insistent inside of me.

SMACK! "Bad Yutaka." I scolded as Gushoshin nearly fell from the table in fright. That bird has nerves of glass. I reminded myself I wasn't going to get anywhere, sitting around in a wet towel thinking lewd thoughts of dalliances with a pimp. It was time to get dressed and get those primary examinations out of the way.

I pulled an armful of clothing out, paying special attention to the newly purchased articles I had acquired last night. My choice of garments was always limited as a result of the scars on my body, particularly my arms. Usually I wore turtlenecks with long sleeves as much as I had once liked showing skin. Finally, I extracted a sleeveless navy blue turtleneck from the pile and pulled it on over my upper torso, pleased to see that it fit me snugly. It was a nice top and though I hadn't exercised much during life, (apart from swimming) I'd been fortunate enough to be blessed with a fast metabolism and maintained my naturally slim figure. I had what might have passed for muscle definition on my chest and abdomen, though not nearly as toned as Tsuzuki happened to be. This didn't seem fair, considering how much junk food he ate and all. I found the small plastic bag I'd shoved into my luggage and slipped out the navy sleeves I had bought at the same shop. They were a cute little purchase; fingerless gloves attached to a long sleeve that when pulled on extended up past the elbow. It covered the marks on my skin perfectly, though I'd have to take special care to make sure that they didn't fall down. I didn't want Oriya to see those marks until he had no other choice but to see them. And maybe then he would hopefully be too preoccupied to notice.

I dawdled over my underwear for a while, trying to decide whether or not it would be worth wearing one of my flashier thongs. I wanted to be realistic and remind myself that it was unlikely that Oriya was going to be seeing that much of me today but the way things had been progressing… Thankfully I got a handle of myself and selected a yellow, blue and white pair of boxers, pulling the towel away and sliding the snug material up my hips. I wasn't exactly concerned with the Gushoshin peeping at me while I changed. Human anatomy doesn't really interest them all that much and he was still entirely focused on the computer screen. I could have pranced around the room nude declaring; "Behold my nakedness!" and I doubt he would even glance up.

Once I was safely tucked into my boxers, I pulled on a tight pair of black jeans, getting into a brief disagreement with the button and zipper as I sanctioned it around my hips.

At last, I was ready!

"Gushoshin, I'm off to go and examine the bodies." I declared, picking up the small kit containing the necessary supplies. Unfortunately, I had to be extremely subtle in my examination or risk impeding Oriya and the Ministry when the Police performed their own investigation. Sooner or later they were going to hear about this but I guessed for now Oriya's 'connections' were helping to keep the murders on ice. "While I'm doing that I need you to look into something for me. I'm pretty sure I have a good idea which demon may be connected to this case."

He looked up at me, astonished. "Already? That was quick. Though you always have been very efficient when it comes to figuring out demons I guess."

"It's my little quirk, what can I say?" I said with a grin. "See if you can find any info on the demon Mitkiel. That's spelt, M-I-T-K-I-E-L. All I know at this point in time is that it is the Demon of Punishment. I need to find out its' form, current location, powers, attributes, anything else you can think of."

"Well you know I'll do my best," Gushoshin murmured as he connected to the Ministry Database via the Internet. "But if you don't know much about it, then I wager that no one else knows much about it either, Watari-san. You're the walking encyclopedia of demons after all."

I laughed self-mockingly. "I guess that's true. Still, have a gander for me, would you? I'd really appreciate it."

"Just as long as you do your job and don't spend all your time trying to force your tongue down our employers' throat." Gushoshin scolded, shooting me a cautionary look. I was about to protest my innocence but he just waved at me to go. "Don't you even start with me or neither of us will get anywhere. On your way, now."

"Right." I declared nodding. I trotted over to 003 who had fallen asleep in a smooshed bundle of feathers atop my pillow. I smiled and stroked his head. "Don't worry 003. I'll be back soon, so you just rest until then. It's been a big day for you!"

003 hooted in his sleep as if agreeing. He revived just long enough to give my finger an affectionate nibble. Which reminded me; I would need to find a shop where I could acquire some mouse meat. As fond as 003 was of cake, he couldn't survive indefinitely on it. Though I'm sure he would have taken me up on that if he could.

Oriya was waiting for me at the front desk just as he said he would be. He was chatting to the geisha named Akemi when I walked up and I got the tribute of both of their attentions immediately focusing on me. I started to feel a little self-conscious and I was glad that the other four girls weren't around. Somehow I got the feeling that during my investigation I was undoubtedly going to form tighter bonds with the pair in front of me.

"Hello sweetheart." Akemi said beaming as I ambled up to them. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. Clearly, I had been adopted. I was as curious of Akemi's hair color, as I'm sure other people are of mine. Whilst I was blond with light brown eyes, she was blond and blue eyed, though her features were clearly more Japanese than Caucasian. I assumed that she must have been a halfie, like I was but it wasn't until a lot later that I learnt the full truth of her lineage.

Oriya gave me that same look he had given me outside; the one people reserve for individuals who think they're being rather awfully clever, when in fact they're really not. I only understood later that this was never the purpose of Oriya's expression, to make me feel insignificant. Only later did I attribute it to the nature that followed it; it meant he was about to start teasing me.

"Going somewhere special?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. I frowned at him, feeling my temper flare up just a little.

"I'm going to examine the bodies of three murdered girls actually. Why? Doesn't this seem appropriate to you?"

He looked like he was getting frustrated. I could understand. I was never usually this sharp with people but today I was feeling just a little bit fragile. I was minutes away from confronting a situation far too familiar to me.

"Don't take it like that." He grumbled, pressing a hand against my shoulder. I could feel the calluses on his palm rub against my bare flesh. It was a nice sensation. "Must you be so sensitive? Nothing that has happened here is funny, I know but if I let it get the better of me, I would flounder. And all those I have to be strong for would flounder. So… could you try your earnest not to throw a shit fit? Coping with this has been difficult enough for me. Please… just treat me a little more gently."

His words soothed out the sharp corners of my temper. I had to remind myself that to him my anger seemed completely unjustified. He wasn't to know. These girls were people that he knew and in his mind I was just being difficult. Making a larger mess for him to contend with. The fact that he openly requested that I 'treat him gently' was so unexpected of a man like him, I didn't react immediately. He was feeling the same way I was. Neither of us was joking.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling suddenly and acutely ashamed of myself. I lowered my face, breaking eye contact with him out of respect. "Things like this just get the better of me, that's all. I'm sure you can understand."

He nodded and I risked bestowing a small pat upon his chest.

"I'll try and get this done as quickly as possible, okay? Then you can take those poor girls out of here."

Oriya nodded as my fingers strayed off of his chest and then turned to face Akemi. "I'm going to show Watari-san to the room. Make sure that none of the other girls come anywhere near. None of you need to see that again."

"Yes, beau." She intoned with a deep bow that managed to include both Oriya and I. I watched as she turned and shuffled out of sight and then trailed my eyes back to the tall proprietor.

"Oh, that you reminds me." He suddenly declared, moving around the tall counter and rustling around on the shelf beneath it for a moment. "I have your uniform here. The one you shall be wearing for your part-time stint as receptionist… ah, here it is." He lifted up the uniform, still on its hanger and slung it over one arm, holding it out for my inspection.

I gave him a dubious inspection. "I see… … well, isn't that lovely."

I don't know what I had been expecting but it certainly hadn't been this. The uniform was relatively safe much to my disappointment. It was nice enough; black pants, v-neck button up vest and white shirt with long sleeves. But it wasn't anything spectacular.

I swallowed heavily. "I'll look like the butler."

He laughed and tucked the uniform back under the counter. "It looks much better on." He assured me. I shrugged, not convinced. "Really. Though I'm sorry to say that it's probably a size too small for you… now that I've seen you." He put a finger to his chin, gazing me up and down thoughtfully, whilst I reigned in the sudden rampant desire to huff with indignation. "It may just be a little too tight in the seat of the pants and thighs…" He finally declared, hands on hips and directing a dejected shaking of his head towards the ground.

I on the other hand, immediately perked up. "Now that I think about it… it really isn't that bad after all." Tight pants meant… well… let's just say a certain part of my rear anatomy would be subject to more attention than the Mona Lisa and leave it at that, shall we?

Oriya laughed again as he moved around the counter to my side. He seemed then to recall just what we were on our way to do and the humor left his eyes and voice.

"Follow me." He said in his best Old Testament voice. He made his way over to the hallway he previously tugged me away from. I noticed then how dark and cold it seemed down there. "This way."

I took a deep breath and followed him into the shadow.

XxXxXxXxXx

I had performed examinations on a lot of bodies in my time. I'd passed the requirements necessary to work as a medic in the Summons Section of the Ministry but I wasn't exactly what you would call a doctor, by a long stretch. (Though I did sometimes pretend to be, just for bragging rights you understand.) In life I had briefly considered undertaking a medical degree but in the end decided to pursue a career in Mechanical Science, since inventing and tinkering were my true passions. That and having to cut open a body and determine the cause of death was just not suited to a softy like me. As a Shinigami though, I'd had to vanquish that mortal coil in order to perform the tasks to which I was appointed.

As a scientist and a Medic, I'd been presented with the bodies of adults, elderly people and children. In my business they had all died suspected supernatural deaths so none of them had been pretty. Vampire victims, strangulation, stabbings, decapitation, intestines pulled from their abdomens, torn apart, the gruesome list went on and on. Some cases were more heartbreaking than others; some were more violent than others. All were classified outside of the realm of normality.

I was assured that much in my line of work.

I stood in the doorway of the cursed room, staring down at the three forms hidden beneath what had been at one point in time, white sheets. Someone had possessed the decency to cover them up. The pentagram drawn with their blood, was not the expected six-pointed star typically connected with dark magic. This was more an old fashioned pentacle; a hexagon in the center, surmounted by a series of stretched triangles that swept off of the apex of each side of the center hexagon. A circle encased it and each triangle had a scribble of demonic text tracing the border.

I retrieved the camera from the kit and took a few pictures of my own, zooming in on the writing specifically. The air stank of blood but the bodies had not yet started to decompose, owing to the stasis spell that Jun Takamiya had cast, following her initial examination. I looked over my shoulder at Oriya, his expression dark and grim.

"What exactly is that writing?" He questioned softly, fingers brushing then curling back across his throat self-consciously.

I waved about the instant pictures, manipulating the development before I filed each one into a plastic sheet for later examination. I then crouched near the closest triangle of the pentacle, making sure my feet did not obscure any line of blood that had been used to draw it. I had to lean close to make out the writing. My eyesight can be a real drag sometimes.

"Looks like Old Lucifuges specific text." Ichibana muttered. I was surprised to find that it was awake; considering what an exhausting night it had had. "Then again, the stroke of the forward inscription here is all wrong for Lucifuges. It may be a demon from a lower level pantheon."

I nodded. "You do have a point. It's unlike any sigil I've ever seen… as though a number of signatures have been thrown together."

"Think someone's trying to throw you off of the track?."

"Deterrence would be a wise move to make following this murder. My initial assumption was that this was the scene of a summoning and that the three girls were used as sacrifices for the demon being called upon."

"Ditto. But this looks ta me like the whole summoning appearance was just a decoy. Something else is going on here."

"I agree. It just seems way too suspicious for my liking."

Oriya blinked at me, clearly confused. I quickly brought him up to speed with my traveling companion and what we had been discussing. I tried to simplify it as much as possible but I still think it went over Oriya's head.

"So what you're saying is, is that this text- '' He pointed to the floor. "And the pentagram… has not been used for the purpose of a summoning?"

I nodded. "Well… not for summoning an individual demon anyway."

"How can you tell that?"

"Well the demonic scripture, my dear!" I exclaimed as though any idiot and his dog should have got it by this point. "Here, this line here for example. Demon's as a race don't all speak and follow the same language. It's much like the human race! According to the Pantheon – level – from which they originate, a demon takes on a certain written language, spoken language, even smaller aspects such as accents and pronunciation. The one thing they all maintain however is that each language is kept separate. This particular line here should be a coded Paralysis Directive, as it is placed in the triangle on the right of the pentacle, where it is believed that physical strength and mana are situated in the demon's essence. The Paralysis Directive binds the demon immobile within the pentacle, whilst the Sahir or Summoner, relays their commands." I ran my finger through the air over the line, murmuring the words to myself as I translated them. I grinned. "Ordinarily, a Paralysis Directive would entail three or more lines. The first line Invites, the second line Conveys the intent of the Sahir and the third line Ensnares. This sentence is completely backward. It has four lines. The structure indicates that this symbol is not in fact used for summoning but rather a signature. And the fact that four lines are present is… peculiar to say the least."

The djinni in my glasses giggled and Oriya just continued to look perplexed.

"Okay… and that means?"

I shrugged, wondering at the same time just what it was that had tickled the djinni's funny bone. "Signatures or sigils only ever contain one individual structure. A series of interconnecting strokes, within a double-lined sphere. But this sigil… if that is what it is, contains four, which would make it difficult to interpret the responsible demon. This is a pattern I've never seen before… either our 'demon' is trying to hide his true identity by cracking a number of other Underdwellers names in with its' own, in other words; shaking it up a bit. Or… it's just trying to cover its' ass."

Oriya chuckled softly and scratched the back of his head. I pulled myself up short from taking another long perve on his chest and instead mentally slapped myself on both cheeks. Later. Right now I had a job to do.

"Did anyone move anything in the room?" I asked. It was a required question. "Did anyone touch anything; remove an object, like the murder weapon for example?"

He shook his head. "No murder weapon was found and the only person who has been into this room was me. And that was to cover the girls up." He indicated the sheets and rubbed a hand across his brow. I could see a slight film of sweat had popped out across his tanned skin. "But I knew only an idiot would touch something and leave fingerprints where they shouldn't be. Still, you'd probably find mine around here anyway. I'm in and out of these rooms all the time."

His words were weak and rushed. He was tense just being here. "Mibu-san, you're not required to stay. I can perform the examination by myself."

"No, it's fine." He said wiping at his forehead with the sleeve of his yukata. I watched as he fished a long ornate pipe out of his pocket and pressed it between his lips. Then he thought better of it and put it away. "Inappropriate." He said more to himself than to me. I just gave him the gentlest smile I could muster, understanding how desperately he must have craved just a single moment of peace.

A nasty little thought came to me just then, something I hadn't before considered as a result of my infatuation. What if Oriya was the killer? I glanced over at him, wishing I could have been certain that this substantial man had nothing to do with it. He was the obvious suspect though, now I thought about it. I doubted Muraki's involvement when the man himself had presented me with the common sense of the situation; being that Oriya would have swept the crime under the carpet if it was his friend that had been the perpetrator. Wouldn't Oriya do the same for himself rather than call me in? The only fathomable reason I could come up with, was that it may have been a distraction for activity elsewhere but this too just seemed way too out there. I decided right then that I wanted to eliminate Oriya from the suspect list as quickly as possible. And not just because of the obvious. What if the Police accused him of committing the murders? I needed to get this solved before the inefficient law system got their grimy little hands all over it. The media would definitely support the mysterious notion of the pimp murdering his own prostitutes. It sounded like same bad T.V special.

"Mibu-san, I'm going to take sexual abuse kits of each of the victims." I informed him as I made my way delicately about the room. I wanted to leave the girl who looked like her until last, so I headed toward the sheet where I could see long black hair peeking out from beneath. Jun had already informed us that there had been absolutely no evidence of sexual assault but I found that quite difficult to believe given my personal history with the case. I needed to assure myself beyond doubt and this would mean checking for injuries and volitions that might not have been otherwise standard. "The procedure follows as such; skin from underneath the nails, saliva, seminal excretion, vitae, vaginal swabs etc. It's not the most respectful thing to witness so if you don't believe you can handle seeing the procedure –"

"Watari-san, thankyou for your concern but these are my girls." He said, leaning against the doorframe but not actually entering the room itself. I was glad. It gave me more space to work. "I have to be here with them. They deserve that. And I'm sure you wouldn't object to the company."

God bless you Oriya Mibu. "No. I wouldn't object at all."

I opened the supply kit and retrieved a pair of latex gloves. I realized I would have to take off my sleeves in order to put these on and cursed myself internally for not thinking of it before. Still, there were more important things to concern myself now than that. Sighing, I pulled off the sleeves and stuffed them into my pants pockets, snapping on the latex gloves and making sure each finger was fitted securely into place. If Oriya noticed the marks on my inside elbows he didn't say anything. He was occupied with the bodies of his girls and wasn't perusing my body like some kind of tactless pervert. I liked that about him.

I paused with my fingers atop the sheet. "Oriya… the girl who lived… she remains in the hospital in Hokkaido?"

"She's been in a coma since before I found her." He said in a matter of fact voice. "You surely didn't think I would have her returned here? Not in her condition."

I almost had expected her to be here but I didn't say that. "No. I just needed to be sure. The hospital staff would have taken their own sexual abuse kit from her. Which reminds me," I glanced up at Oriya. "Surely you knew who was with your girls the night that they died. Don't you have like a list of names or something?"

His eyes answered before his mouth did. "It was a paid leisure night." He said sullenly, arms crossed over his broad chest. "We'd all eaten dinner together and some of the girls went out to the entertainment district in Gion Kobu. I went and saw a movie. When I came back I went straight to my room and read for a while. Then I fell asleep. The next morning one of the maids woke me and told me that… this had happened." He swallowed deeply, his Adam's apple rising and falling. "Who they bring home on their own account is their own business. Watari-san. Not mine. I'm guessing that is what happened in this case. I came in here and they were still wearing the clothes they went out in. I… wanted to preserve their modesty but I thought if I touched them I would take the blame for their murders. The best I could do was cover them with these sheets." He shook his head. "The best I could do… for my girls." He closed his eyes and placed a hand over his face as though caging it up. I felt sorry for him but knew I had a job to do and that took priority.

"And the girl that survived the attack?" I asked, fighting back the overwhelming tides of my emotions.

Oriya's smooth voice was watery. It was racked with underlying tears that had not yet fallen from his eyes. "Seki… she was unconscious from the beatings. So I picked her up and called in a couple of favors in the local hospital. They came and took her away. She was then transferred to the specialist facility in Hokkaido." He sighed and his face arrowed downwards even further. "I know they think that it was me. I thought if I called the police, all those unsolved cases involving Muraki would start to pop up. I've almost taken the fall for him more than once. This time, I might really be in the shit. So, I got in touch with a contact of mine who has… well, one foot in each world I suppose you might say. He allowed me the means with which to get in contact with your Ministry. The symbol on the floor was supernatural enough I figure and I guess… I'm hoping that maybe you could clear this up before the police pick up on it. I don't know. I'm just… running out of steam at the moment."

I felt an unexplainable wave of pride for this man. He had taken so many stupid risks just to defend that ass Muraki and might even end up in jail for it. "I don't think you did it." I told him. He looked up at me, surprised by the confidence in my voice. "I don't think that it's in your best interests Mibu-san, I really don't. But the sooner we know that for certain, the sooner you're off the hook. So I want you to supply me with a semen sample, a strand of hair, a teensy weensy bit of blood, a skin scraping, fingerprints and a swab of your saliva. When I've compared that to the evidence I'll get from the sexual abuse kits, I'm sure that we'll be able to cross you off the list! You won't mind doing that will you?"

He leant his head back against the door and puffed his cheeks out. "Not at all, mate. The sooner the better."

I nodded and then braced myself for the cursory examination. I had to be in the right frame of mind to work and even now, with Oriya standing only a few feet away, I was finding it almost impossible to get started. I finally managed to muster the courage and gently peeled the sheet off of the first girl.

"What is her name?" That was my next question. Oriya seemed a little surprised but he answered regardless.

"Karu Tanako."

She was the dark haired girl, the one who looked as though she was only just out of high school. She was lying on her side, her head angled upward at an obscure angle. She'd suffered a frenzied assault; thirty-nine reported stab wounds had been inflicted from her throat to her lower abdomen. The slice to the abdomen was particularly vicious and by probing carefully with my fingers I was able to feel where part of the womb had been removed, just as Jun had reported. The cut across her neck was practically closed over with dried vitae and the pretty white dress with the square cut neck she had been wearing was stained completely red. The bottom of the dress had been hitched up to expose her and her panties had been pulled down to her feet. I eased her onto her back, cradling the crown of her head gently as I would a baby.

"There you go." I told her, slowly turning her face upward. Her eyes were still open and I reached over to close them, shaking my head as I did. "What kind of heartless bastard did this to you girl? You're still only a baby."

I had put a little venom into it, knowing full well that Oriya knew exactly what I meant. I gave him a look over my shoulder. "Yes, I'm fully aware that a particular friend of yours has done this and much more, Mibu-san. You were thinking it too I'm sure."

"Muraki wouldn't have done this to anyone in my service." Oriya muttered coldly, completely missing the point. Muraki wasn't a suspect in my investigation. But he was still a cold blooded killer and Oriya covered up for him, knowing full well the pain it caused other people when he took the lives of their loved ones. It was quite all right for him to despise the person who did this because it hit so close to home. I don't think he actually considered the irony of it though. That the person who committed this crime was no better than the man that he called 'friend.'

I turned back to Karu and took the time to pull the hem of her dress down, to protect her modesty. I removed her underwear from around her ankles and bagged them, intending to examine them later for traces of semen or other clues that may have revealed the killers identity. I reached into the kit for the instruments I would need to acquire the necessary evidence, shaking my head still.

"You poor darling," I said sadly as I retrieved the instrument used to acquire traces of semen in the vaginal tract. It was a nasty looking thing I couldn't even recall the name of. It sort of resembled a chip scooper. "You should be out having fun at parties instead of being here with me."

I noticed Oriya had taken a seat on one of the chairs near the door. I had to put him out of mind though and focus on my task. Even though Karu was not about to protest, I couldn't bring myself to continue until I had done something about the state of the instrument. It was horrible and cold. I'd never had to contend with one of these being stuffed into my body before, thank God, but I imagined it was one of the most unpleasant things on earth. I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

"I remember the first time I used one of these things whilst studying at the Ministry." I said aloud, talking to both Karu and Oriya and at the same time, neither of them. "All the other students didn't have a problem with it but I remember thinking how awful it must have felt. The girl we were working on, well she was dead so it wasn't like she really cared but… still didn't make much of a difference to me. I can be impractical like that I suppose."

I did the same thing as I had done back then, which had resulted in marks deducted because of possible bacterial contamination. I cupped my hand around the instrument and breathed deeply into it a few times, warming the metal. Oriya watched me intently. I could tell because I could see his reflection in the instrument as I held it up to my face.

"These things are so cold." I explained to both of them. "When I've had to use it on conscious patients they'd complain. I always try to warm it up a little, though it usually just gets me in trouble." I tested the metal with my palm and decided that it wasn't nearly as bitter as before. I tugged the sheet back over Karu's midsection, pulling it down until it reached her ankles. Once again, it wasn't practical but I had enough experience to work without the aid of my eyes and the poor girl had gone through enough.

I know that as a Medic I need to view the deceased body as nothing more than an empty shell that the soul has vacated. That its' responsibility now, as a corpse was to shed knowledge in light of its death. Well, I'm sorry but that is never how it has worked for me. A body is a body. This girls name was Karu. She wasn't a cadaver. She wasn't a corpse. Her soul was gone and I wasn't going to torture myself into thinking that it was still there. She was dead. Plain and simple.

But I wasn't going to forfeit my compassion by giving her some disconnecting name or treating her like a piece of meat. Dead or alive she was still a young woman and a woman is to be treated respectfully. Lose sight of that and I would lose a lot more than just my integrity.

I extended both arms under the blanket, using my free hand to gently part her thighs. Oriya had made his assumption of their sexual abuse using his common sense, the manner in which their bodies had been presented. But Jun had been correct in her previous examination, as well she should have been given her level of experience in the field. There was no indication of forceful penetration, no swelling of the labia or tearing of the interior canal walls. Nonetheless, I inserted the device, just to make absolutely certain that no trace of semen could be found in the vaginal tract and turned to Oriya with the most supportive expression I could muster.

"This may not be the kind of assurance you were hoping for," I told him. "But for what it's worth, she hasn't been sexually assaulted."

This validation brought him no satisfaction. His head dropped as though he had lost the strength to keep it straight upon his neck.

"Oh sweetheart…" He murmured and I assumed he was talking to Karu. "Why didn't you just call for me? I would have heard you. I would have been there if you needed me…"

I watched a tear slide down across his cheek and slowly slide out of sight beneath his chin. I wanted to leap up and pull his head into my chest, assure him that everything would be all right and I'd find whoever did this and make them pay. But I couldn't. I had to finish the kits first and then I would attend to Oriya.

I would need him by then too.

"I'm sorry." I told him lamely. But what else could I say? Shee whiz, that sucks, huh? Or, Yeah, them's the breaks. It was impossible to say the right thing in this situation.

I finished taking the sample and transferred the trace onto absorbent paper and bagged the evidence. Dispassionate competence took over and I proceeded through the rest of the examination, bagging the evidence as I encountered it. When I had finished with Karu, I pulled the sheet over her entire body and moved onto the next girl; the redhead. Oriya told me her name was Terumi. The injuries she had sustained were similar to Karu's but unlike the younger girl, the cut to the throat was cavernous. The implement that had been used to inflict the attack had sliced deep through the skin and subcutaneous flesh, down to the bone itself. Such as the first victim, her abdomen had been compromised. A thin blade had been inserted into the vagina and tugged violently upward to split the womb from the inside out and open the abdominal cavity entirely. I felt the crown of her head with my fingers and came across a contusion where most likely, she had been thrown hard against the wall, if the bloodied semi-circle on the plaster to my immediate left was anything to judge by. I could feel that her skull had been fractured, possibly before death. It hit me then, that Terumi was not actually a redhead. The color of her hair was a platinum blonde, so fair that it was almost white. I could see the roots were light. The attacker had covered his hands in her blood and then rubbed it into her hair, staining it red. I spoke softly to her, my one sided conversation keeping me sane in light of my final examination. Before long I had completed Terumi's sexual abuse kit and set aside the bagged evidence. Two down one to go.

Oriya observed my hesitation. He leaned forward in his chair. "Are you all right? Would you like to get some air before continuing?"

I swallowed back a very meaty gag. I had to get in control of myself. I couldn't throw up here and now like I had at the Ministry yesterday. I closed my eyes, allowing myself a brief moment to reign in my emotions.

You are a medic. You've done this a million times before. You've done this to the loved ones of others and they were no more precious than she is. You are a medic. You've done this a million times before. You can do it now. You are a medic. It's not her… she is safe. She rests in Hokkaido, far from here. No matter how much this girl looks like her… you can't afford to let yourself be confused.

"I'm a medic. I can do this." I breathed the mantra in and out, over and over until I finally felt the soothing words take effect. I covered Terumi with the sheet and picked up the supply kit, carrying it over to the white veil shrouding the final victim. I could see waist length blonde hair peeking out from beneath the material. My body heaved.

Oriya was at my side in an instant, his hands cupped beneath my armpits. "Clearly you've done enough. Come away for now, you can finish up later."

"No." I insisted, battering at his hands and then quickly placing my fingers over my mouth as my stomach heaved again. "No." I repeated more firmly. "It has to be over and done with. Now."

"Listen, I won't think any less of you if you feel ill." Oriya whispered, kneeling beside me. He placed his hand on the center of my back and moved his hand in a tender circle, a kind gesture I never thought the man capable of. "Just take a breather and then finish it off. For five minutes at least."

His kindness was wavering my resolve to remain and complete the task and that was something I didn't need. I knew if I left now, I would only procrastinate on returning to finish it off. I might have even convinced myself I had all the necessary evidence and could forego this one victim I didn't have the balls to face. I shook my head. It wasn't professional. I needed all the evidence if I wanted the right person convicted of this horrible crime. I allowed my forehead to rest against Oriya's shoulder for just a moment and he made as though to stand up and bring me with him. I wanted to let him take me out of here. I wanted him to bundle me up and hide me so I wouldn't have this responsibility any more. I wanted him to protect me.

In Kyoto, my city of dreams, I should have been able to entertain this whimsy. But here in this moment my reality was a nightmare. And nightmares had to be confronted or you would spend your life running from them. I shook my head and pulled his hand away from me.

"Thanks." I said. "But I'll be all right now. Let's get this over and done with, eh?"

He didn't look happy at my decision but he let me have my way, returning to the chair across the room and sitting down. His eyes remained on me the whole time.

I took a deep breath and pulled back the sheet before I lost my nerve. The first thing I did was shut her eyes. They were the same color as my own, the same color as hers no doubt and I couldn't stand the awful familiarity staring up at me. I couldn't allow my mind to deceive me, lest I fall into despair. For whatever reason, by one small stroke of fate, I had been spared the sight of my loved one in this poor girls place. I would not forget that. Could not forget that.

Oriya told me that her name had been Kiekemi. She had been the 'younger sister' of the head geisha Akemi, her protégée, in so saying. I could now understand the grief I had been witness to, when Akemi had elegantly lowered her chin to me in the foyer. A thousand poetic verses have been written about a woman's sorrow and often a curt bow, or small smile conveys a pain that is too deep for words. Oh yes, I understood the thousands of meanings behind the simple curve of a person's lips. I understood it all too well.

She hadn't been beaten like Terumi but the slice across her throat had been considerably more brutal than the other two. It was deeper; it had severed the vocal cords. Her expression was frozen in the same mortal dread I had seen on the computer screen but now that her eyes were shut, I was able to look upon her without feeling as though she were glaring up at me. Her abdomen was entirely laid open, just as Jun had described and her intestines had been lifted from the abdominal cavity and arranged about her shoulders. The womb had been forcibly removed, garroting the sides of the lesion into red raw ribbons.

I had tried to internally prepare myself for the shock but it was impossible to dismiss my emotions in regards to this. Even with Oriya there, I did not want to handle the body. I glanced around the room. Though it was well lit and tamely decorated, though there were no shadows, there was something about the room that put me on edge. Her body was dead and at the same time, I found it hard to rationalize that her soul was gone. I had massive respect for the dead (even before I was one myself, you know) but I didn't believe that the body had to be considered a sacred thing to be reverentially left alone. Lord knows I'd let enough people desecrate my own. But the blonde haired beauty did not seem like a discarded vessel to me. The cut to her neck and the condition of her abdomen left no doubt in my mind that she was dead but I couldn't hurdle the niggling little thought that whatever essence ignited the soul of a being within the body, what little 'something' that was there before the moment of death, was still ensnared within the husk unable or beyond the capacity to escape.

I knew I was being ridiculous. I was making excuses to get up and leave the room now, excuses that may have worked if I had actually planned to perform an autopsy on the body. I wasn't doing that. I was making a sexual abuse kit, something I had done more times than I cared to name on victims dead and alive. It didn't injure them in any way and I always ensured that they were as comfortable as possible in the process, regardless of their condition. Reassuring myself of this factor made another part of me angry. I wanted to tear my hair out in frustration, my thoughts and emotions at war with one another. The rational part of me told me to just quit horsing around and get it the fuck over with. I wasn't going to take to her with a scalpel and cut and dissect her. It wasn't murder. I was going to find out who had done this to her. I was going to help her.

But if I had done the job right in the first place… she wouldn't have been here. She would still be alive. It's your fault…

Oriya had been observing my internal struggle and he seemed to want to say something to break through my trance. Before he could say a word, I reached for the kit and removed the instruments needed for the examination. Bearing witness to his obvious concern, it was as though I had crossed a crucial barrier. Now I would be able to function. I could finish the job. I focused on maintaining my professionalism, go by the book and work step by step in acquiring the necessary evidence. Though I didn't speak to Kiekemi as I did the previous two, Oriya must have noticed that I was gentler with her. I squeezed her fingers after acquiring the skin sample and set her hands gently at her sides. She had been wearing a black dress that had been pushed aside in the perpetrators attempts to get his filthy hands all over her. Once I'd taken the vaginal swabs, I redressed her, pulling her dress back into place and straightening it up as best I could. She hadn't been raped but the bastard had groped her so forcibly he'd left handprints all over her pale skin, particularly around her breasts. My blood was boiling. I could feel my teeth screeching as they ground together, the veins in my temple extending out from beneath the skin. Oriya was staring at me intently and I wondered if he could hear the torture I was exacting on my body. As a swordsman he had displayed preternatural skills, which may have had something to do with being vastly attuned to his environment. Perhaps he could see or hear these tiny factors I barely registered myself.

I adjusted Kiekemi's body, turning it on its' side so I could examine the lateral and posterior segments. Something had been written on her lower back in blood. I assumed that it had been the vitae from her own wounds, but in the off chance it wasn't, I took a small sample of it and snapped a picture of the writing. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't written in demonic scripture, coded, rearranged or anything. It was written in kanji and said simply; 'Where would you go?'

I couldn't make heads or tails of this at the time, so I continued on with the examination. Moving on from the writing I performed the derogative task to check whether or not Kiekemi had been anally raped. The previous two girls had not but I couldn't be sure that there was more than one perpetrator and that one of them may have had a sicker fetish than those he had accompanied.

Thankfully, for what it was worth, she had been spared that humiliation. Having concluded the examination, I gently set her head back on the floor. Rather than a sense of achievement, I just felt drained and somber. I needed a drink.

I leant down and whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry, darling." I covered her with the sheet, packed all the evidence I had acquired up into the one kit and pulled off my gloves. It was done. I had made it through in one piece.

Oriya came over to my side and offered me his hand. I accepted and allowed him to pull me to my feet. He gave my shoulder a little squeeze and smiled comfortingly at me.

"Thankyou." He said. He meant it.

I returned the smile though I'm sure mine was a piss-poor effort. "My job is just getting started. I'm going to need you to bring me all the knives in this establishment. I'll need to see if any of them were used as the murder weapon. And Oriya? You should get someone to come and take these girls away now. They've been through hell. And I think that it's time you notified their families."

"I'll notify Karu, Kiekemi and Terumi's families," He murmured his hand rubbing the small of my back. "But… Seki doesn't have a family, except for those of us here. She's an orphan."

"Tell me about her." I said.

"Seki was adopted by my Aunt and Uncle, twenty-two years ago, when she was nine. My Uncle was the proprietor before me. Her parents had died in an accident, I heard and she had nowhere to go. She's been working here for longer than I have." Oriya smiled reflectively. "She's a year older than I am. When she saw the geisha here, she really pushed to start training as an apprentice, though at nine years it was a little late. Regardless… she's one of the most esteemed geisha at Kokakuro, her dancing skills place her very much in demand." He chuckled to himself. "Though… she and Akemi never really got along all that well. Akemi finds Seki to be a little… brash. Unorthodox, even. Physically, they are very much alike, so I suppose it's only natural that there's something of a competitive streak."

"Were you close? You and this Seki?"

His eyes strayed towards the rafters, as though weighing up the value of their association. "Not particularly. I was living in Tokyo when I was a teenager and didn't assume responsibilities here until my early twenties. I care about her as much as I care about any one of my girls. To be honest… I believe Seki found me to be something of a… drag."

I stifled a snort that threatened to explode into laughter. "A 'drag?' Am I to assume those were her words?"

Oriya's neutral features shifted into a slow smile that seemed a little uncomfortable whence appearing on his serious face. I imagined I could almost hear the skin on the sides of his mouth creaking in protest.

"Well… if I am to trust Akemi." He smiled and shook his head, his hair rolling off of his shoulders and swaying about his face like dark curtains. "I suppose I can be a little too serious for my own good… that's what everyone tells me anyway."

I felt a little charmed by his admission and expressed this with a gentle punch to his chest. "People should know better than to try and roll a steam-train sideways. You are who you are meant to be. If Seki can't appreciate that about you then… well, that's her problem."

Oriya was looking at me as though something extraordinarily bizarre had just happened to my face and I wondered for one heart stopping moment whether I had offended him. I was just preparing to back up so quickly I would have stumbled over my heels, when to my relief, I saw his full lips twitch back up into that familiar, uncomfortable smile.

"Why Shinigami-san… that was rather poetic of you. And I confess; I liked hearing it."

I returned his smile but it fell quickly as I caught sight of the white sheets shrouding the girls from immediate sight, from the corner of my eye. "You seem to be taking this well." I murmured, looking up into his eyes. I could see the turmoil there, even if he didn't express it outwardly.

"Looks can be deceiving." He said, proving my suspicions. "It's not… proper to act emotional before a guest. Now, come. Let's leave this room and you can put that evidence away. I should organize for the bodies to be collected and notify the families. If you want to see me emotional, you should stick around until I have them on the other end of the phone."

He led me out into the hallway and fished a set of keys out of his pocket. He locked the doors and then gestured for me to follow as he led me down the hallway toward the Main Entrance.

"Let me ask you something Watari-san. How does a gentle soul such as yourself end up performing an unsavory job like this?" He inquired, eyes focused unwaveringly into the distance. I smiled up at him.

"Just what makes you suppose that I am in any way gentle?"

"Oh, it wasn't at all difficult to see. The way you spoke to those girls as though they could still hear you. The way you treated them. You performed that examination so humanely, with such care and compassion. You had sympathy for them." He locked his eyes on me and I could sense there was no deceit in his voice. He meant what he was saying. "You're quite something, you know that? After spending every year since high school with Muraki, spending an afternoon with you is like caviar on toast. I've gone from one extreme to the other." He sounded proud for some inexplicable reason. I guessed that being compared to caviar on toast was a flattering compliment in his mind but imagining myself as fish eggs just gave me the willies. Though, he basically just said he preferred my company and three dead girls to that of Muraki. Gee… that sting's doesn't it doc?

I couldn't even muster up a giggle at my cheeky thoughts. All my bounce had gone flat. I was like soda that had lost its' bubbles.

We emerged out into the Main Entrance. There was no one else around. I waited in the adjoining sitting room with a glass of chilled barley tea – for we were in the heat of summer - as Oriya called in a favor to remove the girls bodies and then one by one, contacted their families. By the time he'd left the reception area, his eyes look sore and red from too much rubbing and his jaw was firm set, as though he were clenching his teeth far beyond his ability to relax.

"Well… that's certainly going to be added to my list of 'things I won't do twice.'" He murmured, sitting down opposite me at the table, seeming to wince as he tucked his left leg underneath himself. He slid his fingers tiredly across his forehead and then down his face to rest beneath his chin, sighing deeply. I felt my own features drop in sympathy for him.

"I sure am sorry you gotta go through this." I said, tightening my fingers about the barely touched glass. "If there's anything I can do to help…"

Oriya made a brief, dissuasive movement with his hand before returning it to his chin. "You've got more than enough to concern yourself with." He made brief eye contact that landed as heavily in my heart as an anchor weighs itself into the depths of the ocean. "Thankyou for the thought. But this is something I need to do myself." He fished his pipe out of his inside pocket and idly examined it from all angles. "I failed to protect them… the very least I can do is accord their families the due respect. My feelings are the least important factor at play here."

I set my glass down slowly on the table, afraid my voice would crack when I tried to speak. I took a few moments to clear an imaginary constriction from my throat and managed to say, "Forgive me, Mibu-san, for I understand that this is inappropriate timing on my part. However…" I winced at hearing how stiff and insincere I sounded when using standard Japanese. "I… really believe that it would be prudent of me to get those samples assessed as quickly as possible. Your own included." I ducked my head quickly as he raised his eyes to look at me with an incalculable expression. I imagined he thought me quite insensitive to have brought this up now. "I really am sorry. I know how this must sound but I… it-it's standard procedure." I finished lamely.

Rather than berate me for my insolence, I was surprised to hear Oriya make an odd huffing noise from his nose. I dared to raise my eyes and I saw that he was smiling at me with the sort of fond patience most adults preserve for the awkward whimsies of their children. "You don't need to be so formal. I agreed with you that it was best, did I not? I myself am most anxious to be removed as a possible suspect in your eyes." He took a measured sip from his own tea - the ice mostly already melted by this point - and then laced his fingers delicately together and turned to me in a gesture of utmost compliance. "What is it that you require of me, Watari-san?"

Well, I could not deny that my cheeks burned as his eyes came to focus on me, though I did my utmost to hide it. This man… I honestly did believe that he hadn't a clue just how charming he could be! The depth of his eyes and the composed manner by which his words and body both operated… I hadn't ever met anyone quite so extraordinarily peaceful. And not just in the sense that he himself was so meditative by personality but in the affliction of respite that he wrought in me. I was naturally such a boisterous individual, with energy to spare but far too many things going on in my mind to ever effectively deal with. Here now, before this soulful individual the world had left behind, I found my mind and body stilled and silent – abandoned of pervasive clamor. I earnestly wished to reach out and touch him – to see whether the world around us would collapse about me and fade into darkness.

"I…" I stopped, unsure of what I would say if I continued on and busied myself with my medical kit until my thoughts could be straightened out. "I'll start by taking a blood sample, if that's all right with you."

Oriya inclined his head briefly, eyes focused on some point in the garden. I was grateful for this, for I wasn't yet sure if the blood had receded from my cheeks. "That would be fine, Watari-san."

I fumbled with the plastic on the syringe, losing my grip on it once or twice before I was able to effectively peel it away from the paper backing. I ensured that the plunger was entirely depressed before inserting the needle into the hole at the top and then setting the syringe between my teeth as I prepared an anti-septic swab.

"Roll up your left sleeve, please." I requested, as I tilted the small bottle sideways to distribute the antiseptic into the cotton ball I held in my right hand. Oriya complied, sweeping the long sleeve out of the way to expose a deeply tanned forearm with an underside that seemed light and slender, regardless of his age. I thought he looked very attractive as he turned his wrist over to face upward, given me an unobstructed line to his inner elbow.

"Do you also work as a doctor at your Ministry?" He enquired, as I slipped away the antiseptic bottle and removed a small bag of cotton buds and a circular thumb sized bandage to administer once the blood test had been taken. I chuckled ironically about the plastic shaft of the syringe.

"Goodness no. I've had formal training as a medic, which is sort of all you need really if you're working with Shinigami. We tend to heal ourselves fairly effectively, as you no doubt can tell. Make a fist," I asked, waiting until he had obeyed and then examined the arm to detect the rising vein. I gave it two sharp slaps with my fingers to bring it to surface further and then stroked the wetted swab in a line across the distended flesh. Perhaps I was a little more tender than necessary but if Oriya noticed, he didn't say anything. "Cheers, mate. Anyway, you needn't concern yourself with the exact details of my qualifications. I happen to know what I'm doing when it comes to using needles, so you needn't worry about that."

Truth in actuality is that I had a little too much experience in that area. It would have surprised me greatly if I couldn't find a vein in even the pitch black of night with no glasses on. But I doubted Oriya would have been exactly impressed by these unsavory qualifications as it were, so I deemed it unnecessary to educate him further. I plucked the syringe out from between my teeth and ensured once more that the plunger was entirely depressed.

"You right?" I thought it best to check before I proceeded. "Not funny about needles or anything are ya; 'cause now's the time to tell me?"

Oriya just offered a slight smirk of his lips. "No, Watari-san, it's fine. I don't love them exactly but I believe I'll be able to handle this, so long as you are gentle with me."

I laughed a little to myself but felt that warm heat burn against my cheeks again. "Oh, I'm always gentle," I advised, perhaps against my better judgment. I lined up the point of the needle with the blue rise of the vein and forced my mind back from less distinguished thoughts. "Now, I'm sure every doctor says the same thing at this point, so I'm just gonna go ahead and say it anyway; you'll feel a slight sting, like a bee sting. And if you don't thrash around too much and scare the shit out of all my other patients, you'll get a lollypop."

"Oh, I love candy." Oriya intoned with a fake childlike enthusiasm that I couldn't help but laugh at. He did glance away as the needle penetrated his flesh and sipped his tea whilst I drew back the plunger, apparently not so removed that he found watching the procedure tolerable. I observed with some morbid fascination as his blood slowly filled the capsule; viciously red and somehow beautiful. This was the evidence of his continued existence, his human life in a physical representation. Blood that had swilled and pumped through his heart and around his body. From a skewed point of view I could almost understand a humans obsession with the vampire race; the fluvial desire to imbibe the essence of another. To take inside of yourself something that had transgressed through the most intimate and unreachable regions of their body… I was more than a little surprised to find myself thinking this way and quickly banished the thought, less it become increasingly more gruesome. I filled the capsule and quickly pressed the cotton bud down over the puncture mark, advising Oriya to apply pressure whilst I removed the needle from the syringe and plugged the capsule, writing 'MibuSample1' on the side before then storing it in a prepared slot within the case. Once I had safely discarded the needle, I removed the swab from Oriya's arm and applied the circular bandage to the wound. I was envisioned by the briefest desire to lay my lips upon the tiny mark before placing the bandaid on but fortunately caught myself in time. I passed Oriya a small bottle of apple juice from inside the case and advised that he drink it to keep his energy levels up.

"Don't try standing up too quickly for a little while," I said, removing a small scalpel and a sticky sided slip from out of the case now. "If you feel dizzy at any point, sit down and wait before trying to move again. Now, could you please extend whichever hand is not your preference?" Oriya demurely offered his left hand and I grasped it with my own, turning it over so that it faced palm up. He had lovely hands, with long shapely fingers and calluses worn into the palm and the distended areas beneath the fingers. I supported his index finger and placed the sampling strip beneath the nail. "Now, this shouldn't hurt but I'll warn you all the same. I'm going to take a small sample of your epidermis, which requires that I scrape along the upper most layer of skin. You ought not feel much besides myself running the blade across the flesh."

Oriya only nodded as I scraped the blade across his fingertip, requesting then that he assist me by removing a cotton swab from my medical bag as I concluded this initial procedure. He held it as I secured the skin sample and labeled it appropriately and I then plucked it from his grasp and requested that he open his mouth. He gave a slight grimace to demonstrate exactly what he thought of this.

"Oh, this is my least favorite part of any procedure…" He muttered, not saying no precisely but showing some meager semblance of defiance. "Very well but you must promise not to make fun of the number of fillings I have! I confess, I wasn't altogether dedicated to dental hygiene as a youngster and it's only in later years that I have started to pay for it."

I smiled indulgently as Oriya grudgingly cranked open his mouth. "Mibu-san… I wouldn't dream of poking fun at the condition of your teeth. Goodness knows, one more poke may indeed be the end of them."

His lips slammed together so tightly that they almost snapped the shaft of the swab in half. "You be nice now, you hear, or I shall downgrade your room to something in the old servants quarters. And mind you, they are no longer in use, so you may find the conditions to be a little less than hospitable compared to what you are currently accustomed!"

I laughed again and after a moment, he laughed as well, so I knew that he wasn't truly offended. "Oh Mibu-san, you must realize I didn't mean it! Besides, you only need to open your mouth a little for me to administer the swab! I'll hardly need it so wide that I can examine your wisdom teeth."

Oriya sighed a little, apparently relieved that the interior of his mouth was not about to be subjected to my scrutiny. "Well, that's fine then of course." Without further protest, he allowed for me to trace the swab about the insides of his cheeks with such decorum you wouldn't have imagined anything out of the ordinary was happening. He sipped at his tea once more as I stored the swab and then plonked a familiar looking jar with a stereotyped yellow lid onto the table beside his cup. Oriya glanced at it and then slowly looked at me as though I were truly being incommodious now.

"Might I finish my tea first?" He asked and he spoke with such innocent perplexity that he set me to laughing again, though I'm quite certain he didn't mean to be funny. I gave him a pat on the shoulder once I was able to compose myself.

"Mibu-san, I don't mean for you to go running off to the bathroom right at this moment. Just… as soon as is reasonably possible. If there's a slow moment or you're at a loss for something to do…"

"Oh, for goodness sake…" Oriya muttered, looking away with incredibly reddened features as he slipped the jar into the inside pocket of his yukata. "We needn't discuss the specifics of it. I shall get it to you by this evening. And please refrain from enquiring about it whenever I go somewhere alone. I'm not entirely comfortable with this entire thing."

He was truly embarrassed and I took sympathy on him then, giving his shoulder a pat to suggest that it was all well and good, before bringing the halves of the medical kit together and clicking the clasps into place. I meant to say something more but I recognized that in just one slip of passing time that the levity had left our conversation entirely and that sallow silence hung thick in the air. Sour and staunch upon the nose. Oriya was embarrassed about having to front up with a semen sample but just as effectively it served to remind him the very circumstances by which he was forced to endure that embarrassment.

Three girls brutally murdered under the most atrociously disturbing of circumstances. Beneath his care and protection. His roof. His home. How he felt precisely during this time I could only imagine. Even now, having spoken with him at depth of it provides me with little retrospect. The echoes of our laughter hung in the air and slowly drifted down to settle and fade upon our shoulders. I bit my lip, recalling then why I had been so despairing in taking this case. It had been her. She had been there, part of that gruesome tapestry. Alive but… god knows what damage had been done to her.

And it dawned on me then, how truly frightened I was. What if it was him? My tormentor… He'd already proved himself capable of bypassing as astute and powerful a man as Oriya Mibu. Who was to suggest that he could not succeed the same trick in a second instance? Only this time… it may have been me that was felled. And he owed me something far grander and significantly more horrific than what he had aptly demonstrated upon these innocent women. I gazed across table with a kind of quiet desperation, insisting on some reassurance I had no right to ask. Oriya's eyes did not respond; he stared into nothingness with his perfect oval face creased in the corners from strain and his mouth stretched thin to keep from turning down and submitting to what must have been commanding and rampant emotions. His hands clutched about his glass so tightly I imagined I could see the hairline fractures wending out from beneath his fingers.

I knew I needed to take the evidence straight to Gushoshin and start to analyze it but I was in the mood to shirk just one of my responsibilities for once. More than anything, I wanted to go around to the other side of that table, pull those hands between my own and assure him that everything would be all right. That he wasn't alone, didn't have to deal with everything on his own anymore…

The sadness in his eyes… as though he had resolved long ago to a solitary life.

It suddenly seemed all too much. I needed some air.

Smiling, trying not to alert Oriya to my true feelings, I climbed slowly up from the table and walked toward the garden doors of the Kokakuro, stepping through them into the dull, clouded light of outside. I started inhaling at the air as though I were an asthmatic suffering an attack. So many things about this episode had upset me deeply and I didn't even know where to begin. In the space of the last twenty-four hours I had elapsed into my old habits, been pounded into an alley wall by a violent man ten years older than my twenty-eight year body, been forced to get up at the dredge hours of the morning, splashed by a bus, stuck my hand in gum, made a spectacle of myself, yanked back into a distressing past which no one should have had to be reminded of, jerked around like a puppet on a string, learnt that some demon named Mitkiel was probably going to kill us all and then forced to see the one that I loved in that state and perform an examination on the bodies of three young girls who had been cruelly brutalized.

But the look in his eyes… that sadness made my own pain heavier somehow. Too heavy…

Though I knew it wouldn't help anything, I started crying. I pressed my hand over my face and sobbed, lowering my head to try and keep anyone from hearing me.

My body started rocking and my knees shuddered beneath me. I collapsed hard onto the deck, letting go of the medical kit and hiding my face in my hands, my entire body convulsing. I tried to smother myself, to keep it in, but a part of me wouldn't allow it.

It has to come out, it said. It has to come out or it will poison you.

I knelt there and wept and wept, until I felt Oriya settle onto the deck beside me, legs collapsing ungainly before him much in the manner of a tired child. He had enough sense not to ask me what was wrong and sat in simple, reposed silence as I sniveled most unprofessionally. I could feel my nose coming unplug and had to pull myself up short from wiping it on my arm, an unrefined remnant from a childhood bedecked with poor behaviors. I tried to hide that I had even gone to indulge this particular bygone habit but nothing much escaped Oriya's attention, as I soon came to learn. He didn't say a word but reached into his flowing right hand sleeve and fished out a handkerchief, which he then handed to me. I muttered an embarrassed word of gratitude as I tugged off my glasses and flapped the handkerchief about my face in an ineffective attempt to mop up my tears.

It was only then when I regained some composure and I was handing Oriya's handkerchief back to him that I glimpsed his own tremulous expression with clearer vision. It would seem that my own tears had broken through whatever resolve Oriya had made to stay strong. Though he had made no indication of his grief, he had been crying for as long as I had.

"I…" I cut short. What I wanted to say was that I was sorry for acting like this. It must have looked so stupid to him, as though I were crying for no obvious reason other than the sympathy I felt for those girls. But the look in Oriya's eyes said quite blatantly that he didn't need to hear an apology from me.

"You truly are a gentle soul." He said, as though this hullabaloo were proof enough. He reached out, tentatively at first and then clapped his hand to my shoulder with a sort of conviction; as though the thickness of emotion had been weighing heavy on his arm for some time and it was with relief that he finally succumbed to it. "Thankyou. This is what I've needed for so long. For someone to cry with me. Thankyou."

For once in my life I was speechless. This had been a pretty surreal day for an undead scientist from Hades.

XxXxXxXxXx

Tsuzuki

"I miss him!" I moaned.

"He's only been gone five and a half hours." Hisoka reasoned, pushing a stack of paper work towards me encouragingly. For some indeterminably reason, I became even more depressed.

"What am I going to do without Watari?" I wondered, sinking my head into the paper and using it as a pillow. Hisoka looked on disapprovingly. "No one spiking the coffee with sex-change potions. No smoke billowing up from the lab. No one to carry me home from the bar…"

Someone smacked me hard in the back of the head. I whimpered and gazed up to meet the impassive, unconcerned glare of Hajime Terazuma. He scowled and tapped me on the noggin with the corner of the manila folder he was carrying.

"This way you might actually get some work done, you lazy crybaby." He growled. "I think this way we'll ALL finally get some work done. I haven't felt safe to drink coffee from here in twenty-two years! Even now I'm a little apprehensive… who knows if he left anything behind?" He eyed the coffee machine warily.

"I'm sure Watari didn't!" I piped up supportively. Terazuma just rolled his eyes, unconvinced and stalked away back to his own desk. I watched despondently as he swung into his seat, slapping his boots down atop the table much to Wakaba's surprise.

I'm not sure why it is exactly that Terazuma and I have never gotten along. Whether it was because it was just mismatched personalities or the fact that I'm most probably gay, I've never really settled on a satisfactory conclusion. He does indeed strike me as the manner of individual who would discriminate against homosexuals but out of anyone in the Ministry, it is only me that he seems to have an issue with. He gets along well with Watari, who is openly promiscuous by nature, which confuses me somewhat. Though Watari doesn't consider himself to be gay. He says that he is 'bisexual' though I've only ever seen him with men. Being immortal leaves plenty of room for experimentation and Watari was certainly living up to his profession as a scientist.

Perhaps I envied him that a little. Watari was so in touch with his sexuality. He didn't mind that anyone knew who was sharing his bed. (Or lab table more often than not. Sterile work environment my ass.) I guess that's why Terazuma never got the best of him. Tatsumi told me it's because Watari laughs it off, stands up for himself, doesn't take it personally.

I wish I could have been more like that. But it's not the man I am. I'd always known I had a preference for men. It was a definitive categorization from my childhood onwards. I'd seen the way people looked at me and I knew that they knew too. The stares were not just on account of my abnormal colored eyes or my flawless skin that never seemed affected in any way. The first time I had kissed a girl, I knew that somehow it wasn't right for me. But I had run from it, just as I had run from everything else in my life.

The way that I was running now.

I was running from Hisoka, sitting only a body length away from me. Running from the responsibility of meeting his eyes. Of getting too close to him and having him read my thoughts. My secret guilt.

Muraki had kissed me last night.

I hadn't run then.

I didn't run from him.

Didn't run. Even when I was running from everything else.

For the first time in my life, in those few moments I stood completely still and let him swallow me up. I had fallen into my nightmare and entered his dreams. All along I knew the fall would scar and terrify me. But that's what falling through a nightmare does I suppose.

And falling was not running. It was surrendering to something you have no hope of understanding. Something that frightens you because you know it is wrong to find any pleasure in an act that makes you feel so… stained at the very same time.

I had run to my death. I had run to suicide and even then the blood ran from me, as though trying to tear itself from the body that so mercilessly encaged it to such a filthy soul.

"Don't see much pen movement there."

I popped out of my thoughts and quickly scrabbled for the nearest scrap of paper I could find. Tatsumi stood a few feet from me, his smile uncharacteristically plain.

"Sorry!" I squeaked as papers went flying about me in my panic to catch a hold of any single one of them. I could see Hisoka shaking his head from behind the white wall I had created. "Tatsumi! You know, you really shouldn't sneak up behind people like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"That should be the least of your concerns." The secretary grumbled, catching a few pieces of paper as they floated through the air in front of him. He set them down gently on my desk and straightened his glasses. Tatsumi was an unusual visage of color today. Whilst usually he was more comfortable in a somber brown suit, today he was wearing navy blue with a crisp (and most likely cheap) striped tie of the same color. For him this was quite flamboyant, though next to Watari in plain clothes it would most likely go unnoticed.

"That's a nice suit!" I remarked, dumping all the loose pages on top of my desk in a messy pile. A vein in Tatsumi's forehead throbbed. "Is there some sort of special occasion? Are you going swimming in your Yen room again?"

He chuckled light heartedly. Owing to Tatsumi's fastidious caution with money, the handful of Shinigami assigned to the Summons Section, had adopted the nickname 'Scrooge' for him, more so in honor of the Western Disney cartoon character. A duck with a Scottish Accent. It was Watari who conned this honorific, after we both envisioned what Tatsumi did in his spare time and came to the conclusion that he had a secret room in the Ministry filled with yen that he went swimming in. I would not actually be surprised if this turned out to be fact rather than fabrication. The man probably lines his bed with dollar bills before he goes to sleep and has a plushie of a yen sign to curl up with. He even has pajamas with yen signs on them. Okay… so Watari and I did pitch in to get them for him and considering how much the damn things cost, I should hope that he wears them. No matter how indecorous he thinks it looks.

"No occasion." He said, fingering the lapel even as he spoke. Clearly there was supposed to be something wrong with it that an ignorant asshole like me couldn't figure out. "I had this suit on order months ago and it was finally delivered last night. The deliveryman was an absolute imbecile. Just look at what he's done!"

I looked. "Em… …?"

Tatsumi groaned at my lack of imagination. "He folded the suit jacket across his arm! You never fold cashmere! It redirects the nape!"

Well take me to the pictures. That was something I would have to remember for parties. 'Say did you know, that folding cashmere redirects the nape?' Right. And spend the rest of the night having my head flushed around the toilet. Uh uh.

Tatsumi was glaring at me as though awaiting my confirmation. That look usually meant I was about ten seconds away from loosing half my pay packet and having to live off of baked beans for a week.

This was the infamous look that said; 'I have not had a good day. And anyone who crosses me today will bleed red into the rivers of the world.' Now I knew why that smile looked so strange. He was desperately trying not to grind his teeth and crack them all, forcing him to see an orthodontist for very costly crowns. The cashmere suit had obviously been expensive and redirecting the nape was clearly a crime against all humanity. I wondered if the deliveryman was still in one piece. Possibly. Tatsumi wouldn't have killed him on the doorstep and wasted money by all the effort that would have gone into removing the stains from the carpet in the hallway.

There are times I wished I had better control of my facial expressions and now was one of them. I grinned at Tatsumi in what I hoped was a supportive manner and found myself under siege from a series of bellows, mostly consisting of; "Well I should expect you to find incompetence funny!" and; "If you'd ever waited more than one night before spending your paycheck, you would understand what monetary disappointments are like!" And so on and so forth. By the time Tatsumi was done with me, I was curled up beneath my desk with my tail wrapped around myself, whimpering pitifully. Tatsumi softened up at my pathetic display and immediately reassured me that he didn't mean any of it.

"I'm just frustrated." He explained, patting me gently on the back of the head. I nodded and wiped a tear away from my cheek with my sleeve.

"I'm sorry about your suit!" I all but sobbed.

He shrugged as he proceeded to straighten my tie for me. I could never get the darn thing right. "It's not your fault, Tsuzuki. I apologize for taking it out on you. I've just been a little on edge since-'' He cut off immediately, but I knew how he was going to finish that sentence.

Since Kyoto.

I stepped back, tugging my tie out of his hands. "I'm sorry." I said again.

I'd been working up the courage all morning to confront Tatsumi about my arrangement with Muraki. I knew that the longer I hesitated, the longer I would have to find a reason to not to do it at all. Considering all the grief I had caused at Kyoto; all the grief that Muraki caused, I had no doubt as to what everyone's reaction would be.

But when I really thought about it, I figured that it would not nearly be as bad as I imagined. After all, it was not as though my emotions were soundly invested in Muraki at this point. They would see, I continued to reassure myself. They will be able to see the logic in this, even if it doesn't make them happy personally. Innocents come before us and our own feelings.

"Tatsumi?"

The secretary turned at my soft call and then twisted his entire body to face me. This had always been my special privilege with Tatsumi. I would always be granted the courtesy of his full and unwavering attention.

'He got so riled up over a jacket nape!' My mind screamed, even as his sapphire blue eyes bore into my own. 'This is going to shatter him! Eek! My pay packet!'

"What is it Tsuzuki?"

I didn't quite know what to do with my hands. First I stuffed them in my pocket, then I folded my arms over my chest, then I started wringing my fingers together and pacing. By then Tatsumi knew there was something weighing on my mind. This was a sure fire give away when it came to me.

"Is there something troubling you?" He inquired gently.

I had my lips parted. The words were there right on the tip of my tongue, ready to be spoken, to my carried through the air to his unappreciative ears. I was prepared for any and every reaction. Nostril flaring. Eyes glowing. Smoke coming out of his ears. Shadows twisting. Screaming, tantrums, paycheck deductions, explosions, Apocalypse. Anything he threw at me, I had thought of a way to handle, most of which involved either running, hiding, pulling sad faces, crying or a combination of all of them.

But I never had a chance to tell him. And it was Watari, ironically enough, that I have to thank for this delay.

Terazuma had been drinking a cup of coffee from the machine when he suddenly let out a loud screech that seemed to hit a higher octave ever second it carried into. I glanced around Tatsumi, who had also spun to face the disturbance, only to witness Terazuma erupt into a cloud of red smoke and reappear with a rather femininely proportioned upper torso. There was a repeat of the high-pitched scream as he proceeded to rip the coffee machine away from the wall with inhuman strength and smash it against the floor.

Hisoka groaned and scribbled something on the piece of paper in front of him, without even taking his eyes off of the amusing spectacle. "Should have known Watari wouldn't have left without one little surprise like this."

From what I could tell, he'd spiked the coffee with one of his in betta 'IT's' AKA: Sex-change potion. For all purposes it looked like it was a success. … From the waist up.

I wanted to enjoy Terazuma's torment, but the potion had only reminded me of Watari and the promise I had made to him. I tugged insistently on Tatsumi's sleeve.

"Tatsumi…?" I whined trying to catch his eye. I quickly took a step back. "There's a vein throbbing in your forehead…"

Tatsumi lunged toward the rampaging Terazuma and proceeded to drive him/her/it into a corner, his arms flying around in the air like an out of control windmill. I barely avoided being belted as it was.

"Hajime Terazuma!" I could hear Tatsumi scream in his very best 'BATTLE CRY' voice. "Would you mind explaining to me, just who you think will be paying to replace that coffee machine?!"

"Get that lousy, good for nothing excuse of a scientist to pay for it!" Terazuma retaliated as I sullenly sank back into my chair and reached for the half eaten chocolate bar stuffed into my top drawer. "He's the one who keeps spiking the damn thing! For the love of fuck… if he was here I would-'' Fill in your own euphemism for; 'Box around the ears' here and keep in mind that whatever you come up with will undoubtedly be ten times more family friendly than what Terazuma spouted. The last I saw of him/her/it, was Tatsumi dragging him away by one of his/hers pointed ears, lecturing him about a friendly happy peaceful policy toward office property.

I chewed on my chocolate bar, more out of a need for comfort than the usual desire for food. I couldn't help but feel… relieved in a strange sense. The truth was, I was frightened about being alone with Muraki and continuing on with this arrangement. But… not for the reasons I originally thought.

Right now, I was more afraid of myself and the weakness of my flesh. The weakness of my heart.

I didn't want to hurt my beloved friends. I didn't them to worry about me. I didn't want them to follow Muraki and me on surveillance and moving in when they thought it was too dangerous for me to continue the arrangement.

He may have hurt them. He would hurt them given half the chance.

But I didn't even believe this myself. I knew, because my reasons for accepting this delay, for not telling Tatsumi that very first day I had my chance… it wasn't because I didn't want the others to be hurt.

I didn't know what it was. And even now, I still can't really figure it out. But I think that it is this;

Muraki was mine to kill. His fate was bound to mine, and mine to his. Inside, where the weak heart beats, flows the blood of demons. And a demon will belong to those it deems worthy. It will judge and by judgment it ordains; who may love it, whom it may accept and whom alone is permitted to end its life.

These words I had never read. I had never known about them. They were whispered to me from the dark side of my soul, the place I have barely touched upon in a near century of existence. These still and soft words I understand now are true.

I had almost killed Muraki in Kyoto. I had almost killed this man when so many had failed. And that was my right and my right alone.

We were descendants of darkness. We belonged to one another, as much as I hated to admit it. Muraki had judged me as the one whom he would love, whom he would accept and in the end, it had been me that was permitted to kill him.

One day Muraki would die at my hands. And I at his.

So maybe that was why I did not tell Tatsumi that day. Maybe that is why I never told him.

This wasn't like Kyoto. I was no longer a porcelain doll in need of rescuing, lest I fall and shatter upon a concrete surface. I would not permit that responsibility to anyone else now. It was my own. This task was my own.

Muraki was my own.

I felt a swat on the back of my head. I jumped and glanced at Hisoka morosely and received a blank expression of disinterest in return. His large green eyes held just the hint of a smile and that was more than enough to assure me that maybe… somehow… he would forgive me anything.

To Hisoka I was human. I couldn't thank him enough for his reassurance when no one else would come to my rescue. Just knowing that he was on my side… I would always be grateful for that.

But Hisoka couldn't see how much the words hurt now. Though I continued to desire the verification of my humanity, to hear the reprise of those blessed words; 'You are human', now I could barely cover a twinge of discomfort at the very sound.

I was accepted. But only the human half of me.

'You're human.'

But I'm not human. I'm only part human.

'You're a monster. With the blood of a demon.'

'They said I wasn't human!'

I didn't want to hear that I was one or the other anymore because every time that I did, it cast a negative shadow over the other half of me and I suffered all over again. There was a thin gray area in the middle that no one could ever see and no one ever acknowledged.

Hisoka asked me, only recently; "You and Watari have been spending a lot of time together recently."

"I guess we have." I said.

"Any particular reason?" He had asked nonchalantly. I didn't catch his tone, not that Hisoka usually spoke with expression but I guessed at what he was hinting at.

"We're not having a fling." I laughed, ruffling his mousy brown hair. "Watari and I sort of grew apart in the last year or so and we've just been catching up on lost time."

No… that wasn't true either. The real reason was because I could tell Watari was lonely and maybe just a bit jealous that I had been spending so much time with Hisoka. We'd been closer before he'd come along, true. But Watari hadn't said a word. I'd had to guess. Sometimes he was harder to read than Hisoka. You could always tell when Hisoka was down. Watari… he just… smiled. No matter how he was feeling.

And no matter how he was feeling, he would always put me first. He didn't reassure me. He didn't jump up and declare to all the world that I was human. He didn't call me a monster. He didn't call me a demon.

There was simply that complete and unprecedented acceptance from him. Not one half of me over the other, no discrimination, no sweeping under the carpet, no denial because he thought that was what I wanted to hear. A pat on the back, a free drink and a smile. And I was always Tsuzuki when I was with him.

I couldn't achieve that with anyone else right now.

"Come on Tsuzuki. Get to work." Hisoka growled.

I popped the last piece of my chocolate bar between my lips and attempted to grin at my partner. He wrinkled his nose at my caramel filled smile.

"Gross." He declared, passing me a toothpick from the 'organized chaos' on his desk. I cleaned my teeth as best I could and finally got motivated enough to tackle the ever-increasing pile of paper work.

I worked like a demon, appropriately enough. Whatever his faults, Watari had been an efficient and dedicated worker and his protégée Chikawa, who was filling in at the lab for him was willing but lacked speed. He was finding it difficult to keep pace. Meaning Hisoka, Wakaba, Terazuma, Tatsumi and I were forced to take up the extra slack. Fortunately, the Kyoto Cleaver case was the only investigation currently in progress and most of the work on our hands was wrapping up previous cases and filing them away accordingly. Watari's replacement also had to contend with Terazuma's outrageous demands for a Quick-Fix IT antidote, which the poor kid was unable to produce. I doubt even Watari knows what he puts into his potions half the time, so curing it would have been in the realm of impossibility at least until we got him on the phone or he returned to the Ministry. As it was, Terazuma did try to contact him but the call went straight to his message bank. He was probably up to his glasses in work (Not to mention seducing swordsmen) but Terazuma found this an outrageous excuse and promised to sue/murder/give Watari a wedgie, as soon as he came within eyeshot. Yes indeedly do, it was a busy day indeed. I felt an immediate surge of relief when five o'clock finally rolled around.

Hisoka and I breezed out the door, waving goodbye to everyone as we went. Tatsumi and Wakaba were both working late on separate assignments, whilst Terazuma and Chikawa continued searching for a cure to his current 'condition.' We left them to it and exited the building, turning from the main entrance and walking in the general direction of the apartment complex.

The Ministry of Hades is a building that exists in Human Reality but there it is known as Government House. In the realm of Hades however, the building transforms. It's kind of like looking at a picture of something with a dark sheathe over it and then removing the sheathe and realizing that there is actually a lot more to the picture that you couldn't see to begin with. That was the Ministry. In the realm of Hades, cherry blossoms surrounded the building and bloomed all year round. Sakura is the symbol of death and the Cherry Blossom front that passes up and down the country each year is reminiscent of the passing of life and death. We Shinigami are deep like that.

If one wished to leave the Ministry, the Shinigami in question need only swipe their personalized identification through the card slot within the interior door of the building and then step through into the outside. The dimension shifts over and no one watching from the street would have any reason to suspect that the people exiting the building were anything other than government house employees.

The Hades dimension extends only within a localized area surrounding the Ministry building; encompassing the grounds and several surrounding outbuildings, such as Watari's lab. These area's can be safely explored and ventured into, however they extended only so far before terminating into invisible walls, that lent a façade of a receding landscape but offered no validity. To leave the realm behind, one need enter the Ministry building again and swipe their key card. Step outside and you would step back into the Waking World; busy Tokyo in all its charm, noise and much overbearing hustle-bustle. Five minutes of this and the temptation to retreat back into the Hades realm just for a moments peace became difficult to defy.

Two blocks to the left of the Ministry building, within walking distance, was the Apartment complex 'Sakura Zensen.' It means 'The Cherry Blossom Front.' Gotta love that Hades sense of humor. This building existed purely within the Waking World but so far as humans were concerned, it did not exist at all. Unless explicitly invited inside, the eyes of passersby would simply slide off of the building, as though the two structures on either side of it met directly where the apartment complex was situated. It could not be seen from the air, nor was it marked down on any industrial files as an existing building. The Ministry of Hades had done an exceptional job of imbuing the space with a limitless amount of concealment spells, so that its employees could enjoy all the benefits of living within the waking world and still retain more than vestige of privacy, concerning our particular 'altered' dispositions.

All the employees of the Ministry lived in the complex, which was paid for by the Ministry itself. We were in charge of feeding our own faces and keeping our true identities from the public a secret but that in itself wasn't altogether too difficult. Even the doormen, security guards and the receptionist were all employed by the Ministry and we didn't receive too many outside visits from the public. On the off chance however, we were all on our best behavior.

Hisoka and I had planned to order some takeout and watch a movie in my apartment that night but he decided to bail out at the last minute. He seemed tired and irritable, so I only whined at him for two or so minutes before letting him do as he pleased.

His apartment was on the second floor and he took the stairs for exercise. Mine was on the ninth floor and since I'm lazy I decided to take the easy way out and hopped on board the elevator. I waved hello to the receptionist, who gave me a wink as she chatted away on the phone to someone, before deftly pressing in the button for the elevator. The doors slid open with a ping and I stepped inside, turning to face outward. The doors were starting to close when I saw someone dressed in black race in through the entrance of the Complex and tear ass toward the elevator waving their arms madly.

"Hold the elevator!" They screamed in a life-or-death phrasing. Being the noble gentleman I am, I reached out and held down the button that would keep the doors open and waited for this dramatic individual to get inside in one piece. The doors slid shut and I punched in the number for my floor and turned to my companion to ask where he was going.

And felt my jaw come unhinged.

"Thanks!" The kid chirruped with an altogether much too cheery expression. "I didn't think you would stop for me! So… what floor are we heading to?"

I almost considered jumping out of the next floor we came to and taking the stairs but decided against it, figuring this creepy little delinquent would probably just follow me no matter what route I took to my apartment. He was staring at me with polite interest and smiling as though we were two long lost friends meeting at a chance occurrence.

All the placidity I had acquired following my knock off from work simply evaporated and I started to feel extremely uncomfortable. The kid seemed strangely at home in my nervousness and though smaller than I, appeared to be taking up a much larger portion of the elevator than my larger frame did. I guess it was his smile that caused this illusion. And the fact that my shoulders were hunched in so closely to my body that I practically had my face pinched between them.

"Do you remember me, Tsuzuki-san?" He asked conversationally.

I reconsidered. He was wearing the exact same clothes as last night, only this time he had on a dark jacket with a fur trim collar. This minor altercation was no deterrent to my memory, of course. There was no doubt who this strange youth was.

His face looked like a frightening hybrid of Hisoka and Hijiri. As though the two of them had been thrown into a blender, rearranged accordingly and then bequeathed a new personality.

Not to mention those eerie eyes with the tiny pupil…that icy blue stare made me think of all the dark things that had frightened me as a child. Brought back images of long forgotten nightmares, ghost stories, nights of deep blackness without the reassuring puncture of moonlight and all manner of things that went bump in the dark.

"Yes, I remember you." I mumbled, wishing he would stop staring at me that way. … As though he had something planned. The way he smiled reminded me of that painting by Van Gogh; The Mona Lisa. It was the same knowing, teasing smile. I never did like that painting. It always felt as though she were laughing at me somehow and this kid made me feel exactly the same way. "You said your name was… Pandora, right?"

"You did remember." He seemed pleased. "It's good to see you again, Tsuzuki-san. Did you have a nice time last night on your date with Zuta?"

This went right above my head and my expression plainly said so, because he quickly amended this by saying; "Muraki. Kazutaka Muraki."

"You know Muraki?"

Pandora nodded, twiddling with a stiffened clump of hair on the collar of his coat. "Yeah, I know Muraki. Know him from way back. Not the nicest guy around but I guess that depends on who you are." He laughed hollowly, in the tone of one whom was mocking another whilst they mocked themselves at the very same time. "But I gather he treats you well, Tsuzuki-san, that I do! Though I don't suppose you even know if he in fact loves you or not." He arched an eyebrow and looked surprised. "It must really run your mind in circles, Tsuzuki-san. Mine is already looped in a knot considering such matters in your stead!"

I bit my lip, keeping my eyes trained resolutely on the numbers as they rolled across the top of the elevator. It wouldn't be too long before we reached floor nine.

"Yeah well, I try not to think about it too much."

"Yes, I do suppose that's wise." Pandora scuffed the toe of his boot against the floor of the elevator, that mirthless smile never once forsaking his lips. In a strange way, it reminded me of Watari. "In his own way," He continued. "I think Muraki believes he loves you. But are you quite sure you're doing the right thing, Tsuzuki-san? Do you think if push comes to shove that he will protect you?"

His voice got colder and colder and there was a long pause before that smile finally fell away and he cocked his head sideways to meet my eyes. His face was shallow. No depth. Devoid. Barren and empty as the bottom of a bottle long since drained. I tried to see what was beyond that face but any emotion hidden behind it was completely warped beyond perception.

"Do you truly believe that he would die for you, as willingly as he would die at your hands? Would he permit another to kill him… if he believed it would spare you?"

I simply stared at him, not comprehending what he was saying. Luckily I didn't have to stint on it for too much longer because the elevator finally reached my floor. The doors slid open and I stepped out into the hallway, turning my back on the cryptic kid. I could still feel his ice blue twins on me and that was almost as bad as facing him directly.

He didn't follow me out into the hallway, but he held the door open with his hand for a moment and leaned his head out. He ducked his head in a slight bow.

"What's this all about, kid?" I hissed my voice so stern it surprised even me. "I mean, you turn up last night to say you're sorry for the Tachiagari but you don't give me anything to work with! You're speaking in god damn riddles all the time and I don't know what to do with that! You need to be clear, you need to tell me what your situation is, what's going on!" I took a step closer, my heart tugging with that usual, familiar desire to protect and comfort – pulling on the discordant strings of my rational mind, until my sensibility felt close to unraveling. I didn't know this kid from Adam but here he was, seeking me out and I had always been a right proper sucker for trying to do the right thing by those who were weak and in need of help. "I'm gonna put it to you straight, kid; what do you want from me?"

"I want your help."

Genuine. I looked hesitantly over my shoulder at him, at his suddenly much younger expression, at the lines under his eyes and the rise and fall of his epiglottis. Without a doubt there was more to this kid than I possibly imagined at first and though he intimidated me, I had the sudden supreme confidence that this fear was unwarranted. Somehow I just knew that this Pandora sincerely needed my help.

He glanced around as though seeking out something and then looked back up at me, a question hanging by a thread from his pale lips.

"Yutaka Watari," He said at last. "Tell me… has he gone to Kyoto yet?"

I hesitated in answering. "Yes… but how did you know about Kyoto?"

He shook his head. "That's not important. What matters now is you understand the connection. Watari-san's case and your arrangement with Muraki-san are connected. There are deeper connections than you could possibly imagine. You may not realize it yet but you're all in danger. You are all entwined through the threads and are drawn into this mottled web."

"Mottled web? And what do you mean by 'mottled web'? None of this makes any sense! I thought I told you to be clear, child!"

But Pandora wasn't paying the slightest attention. His eyes were squeezed shut and he seemed to be exerting some mental strain upon himself. I could sense the presence of something much larger encroaching upon our presence through a link the youth held. Sweat broke out across his forehead, his fingers clenching around the elevator door.

"Are you all right?" I asked, taking a concerned step towards him.

He smiled wearily at me. "I'm fine. It's just… my master. He's making things awful difficult on me."

I raised an eyebrow. "Master?" This didn't seem right to me. I loathed the idea of anyone believing that they had ownership over another soul.

Pandora hefted a deep sigh and straightened up as best he could. He appeared to be under a terrible amount of mental pressure, judging from the sweat that was trickling down his face and the white circle that appeared on his cheek. He was biting it from the inside.

"He is stirring. I need to go." He declared rubbing at his forehead and stepping back into the elevator. As he released his hold on the door it began to close but not before he issued his final words to me. "I can't say any more now. He's strong and he might just overhear what I tell you. Until next time, Tsuzuki-san. You should go inside now and speak with your lover. I believe he is about to call you on your home phone."

"Muraki is not my LOVER!" I bellowed but the doors slid shut on my retaliation making it all but pointless. As I pondered over the youth's words and whether or not I should have taken them as they were or with a fistful of salt, I was distracted by the muffled sound of a telephone ringing. My room was only a door away from the elevator, so people coming or going could hear anything going on inside, though in my case that was usually little to nothing. Watari's apartment was right across from mine and that proved an enlightening distraction to residents, what with its cacophony of explosions, falling bookshelves, the crashing of his head on the floor as he tripped over his own junk and on the odd occasion he brought a date home the expected sounds during the night and then the 'guest' tripping over Watari's stuff as he or she tried to exit the apartment with a hangover and without waking Watari.

Yes, who needed Soap Opera's when you had friends like these?

I bounded over to my door and scrambled the key of my pocket. I jammed it into the lock and twisted it, flinging the door open, retrieving the key and then booting the door closed with the side of my foot. It bounced back open and I had to go back for another attempt whilst the phone continued to shrill from the kitchen counter. Finally, I gained victory over the unruly door and moved onto my next item of complaining home ware.

I hadn't exactly been expecting Pandora to be right, so when I did in fact hear Muraki's smooth voice on the other end of the phone, I very nearly passed out. This was getting too much. I needed to lie down.

"Good evening Tsuzuki-san." Came the smooth cultured voice of my nemesis. "I didn't disturb you I hope?"

I grumbled as I shucked my shoes off and wriggled out of my trench coat and jacket, throwing them higgledy-piggledy about the room before flopping myself down on the striped, stuffing flecked shell of furniture that I believe had once passed for a sofa in its previous life. I'd been secretly hoping that one date would have kept Muraki off of my back for a while but apparently it had only made him all the more eager.

"Are you going to sit there silently all night, or will you do me the courtesy of speaking?" He asked, in a tone of voice that did not match for tenor the annoyance evident in the phrasing of his sentence.

I shook my head a little. "Uh… sorry, it's just… Something kinda weird just happened. I'm a little rattled."

"Are you all right?" He actually sounded sincere.

"I'm fine but… what I mean to say is, is that well…" I paused and mentally cut a stroke through the remainder of my sentence. Where could I even begin to explain this crap to Muraki and more importantly, could he care less? "Never mind. It's nothing."

"If it concerns you, then it is not nothing." He stated firmly. So firmly I was very nearly fooled into thinking that he believed his own bullshit. "Tell me what happened."

My stomach growled and the fact that I was hungry made me even more stubborn in my decision. "I said not to worry about it. Now, why are you calling me so soon? Wasn't one date enough?"

He laughed at me. He laughed for a very long time and the more he laughed the more hungry and pissed off I became. Finally, I exploded.

"What the hell are you making fun of me for?!" I roared, ripping a handful of stuffing out of my couch and immediately regretting it. This thing was falling apart enough without my helping it along. I tried to stuff it back in but that only made it worse.

"I apologize." Muraki said without the hint of humor in his voice. That was the closest to being chastised I could ever bring the good doctor to I suppose. "I just assumed that you understood my ways a little better than that, my dear Tsuzuki-san. And the specifics of our arrangement state that I would call on you when I would have need of you. Tonight, I have such need."

I didn't like the way he kept on saying 'need.' He used it in the same context I would when referring to a brownie and that wasn't so much a need as a selfish pleasurable indulgence.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked warily.

"A movie." He said simply. The idea of Muraki sitting perched up in front of a movie screen in his crisp white suit with a bucket of popcorn almost made me laugh out loud. "There is an exquisite movie showing at a local cinema that I'm certain you would enjoy, Tsuzuki-san. It's a delightful show and I would be happy to throw in dinner as well. I will cook for you myself."

"Not interested." My tummy grumbled loudly in protest and Muraki chuckled on the other line.

"I believe your stomach feels otherwise." He murmured his voice barely above a whisper. "And let's not forget why in fact you are doing this, Tsuzuki-san. If you are so opposed to joining me, I surely cannot force you. However… I am certain that there are many others whom would not be so adverse to my company. And I am not like you, Tsuzuki-san. You are my exception but when it comes to humans, I do not care about them automatically. And feeling the way that I do now…''

I felt a surge of anger so extreme it was almost heavenly. Had he been standing in front of me I would have surged off of my feet and punched that predictable smirking grin right off of his face. And like always, I would have missed, he would have grabbed me, pressed the length of our bodies together and whispered something insidiously perverse to me.

God, how I hate to say it but I loved that he brought that anger out in me. It made me feel so intense, so alive.

It was feeding the demon in me and that dark half of me was starving.

My stomach growled again, reminding me that there was more than one half of me that was starving. I checked my fridge as Muraki awaited my reply patiently. I came across some Beef and black bean leftover from two nights ago, lemon chicken, some muffins Watari had baked me which were starting to go stale (I don't know what was wrong with me. I never let sweets go to waste!) and a container filled with a curry Hisoka and I had slaved over together. For some reason, he had left his share at my apartment and now I had twice the amount of curry to eat. I couldn't bring myself to touch it.

Free dinner did sound appealing, since my plans with Hisoka had fallen through. And I always enjoyed going to the movies even though I had a sneaking suspicion Muraki would use the proximity and the darkness to his advantage. But hey, it wasn't like I had anything better planned.

And innocents' lives were at stake. I had to uphold my end of the bargain.

Thoughts like this eased my sense of guilt, even though at that point I didn't really understand what I was feeling guilty about.

I slammed the fridge door closed like a little boy that had been sent to his room. "Right. I'll go with you."

There may have been a smile on his shining face. "I'm glad to hear it, Tsuzuki-san. We'll meet outside of my home at shall we say, seven? I will drive us to the movie theatre and then back so I may cook you dinner."

I nodded, and then remembering that this didn't help him said; "Fine."

"Good." He stated, sounding pleased as punch. "I shall see you at seven then. I am looking forward to it."

I went to hang up when his voice trailed out of the receiver again. I held it up to my ear to catch his parting words.

"Tsuzuki-san? The movie starts at seven thirty, so do try not to dawdle, hmm?"

He hung up, leaving me with my mouth hanging off of the hook.

'Try not to dawdle' indeed.

- EC -

Note: The greatest change to this chapter was Watari acquiring the samples off of Oriya. A general clean up with the rest of it. I hope you guys all enjoyed! Now I'll pop on over and see what else I can do with chapter 10! See you then! (Man I sound like the Ouran Host club, don't I?)