Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

Chapter 10: Like A Midnight Train To Hell

"Where the hell do you get off ignoring my calls? In the nine days you've been gone, we've had another three killings!"

Toshiro was furious, a tea kettle that had long-since reached the boiling point. He'd grown fed up, having to assume that each of the killings was murder. One man, it appeared, had hung himself, but being the dedicated officer he was, Toshiro wanted to be positive. And without the investigation's forensic pathologist, the case was essentially at a standstill, thus giving the killer more leeway than should have ever been allowed.

It only irked him more when the man, still grinning, shrugged off his outburst.

"I've seenthe papers."

There was a loud slam as the officer hit the wall with a fist, his head feeling like it were about to break. "That doesn't help us at all! It doesn't do anything to catch this bastard!"

Usually, Matsumoto was the one who got on his nerves, but, in less than fifteen minutes, Mayuri had outdone her in every way. The captain was seething, his steaming mug of coffee now dripping over the side of his desk, staining several other important reports that he had not yet filed. But they were all irrelevant. He'd gladly take the heat from the higher-ups were he to put this bastard in his place.

But, based on the fun the man was having, Toshiro was starting to lose his confidence in that idea.

The youth scowled, shooing Matsumoto away as she poked her head through the door. If anything, she was looking in to see what all the shouting was about. She had konpeito candy stuck to her face, as well as an amused smile. He wasn't sure, but she was either laughing at him for losing his temper, or she'd managed to get along swimmingly with Gin again, who was still locked up in the holding cell.

Now that he was thinking about the man, Gin seemed to be set on being difficult. He continued to insist that he'd had nothing to do with Futatsu Ryogawa's death, and was sticking to his story about having dropped his keys. Still, Toshiro didn't believe it. Hadn't from the start. Inspection of the corpse had shown that Gin's fingerprints were all over his clothes, and that the sly fox's jacket had minute traces of gunpowder on the sleeve, matching that found on Ryogawa. The only thing that was missing was the murder weapon: An imported 9mm handgun that had been fired point-blank at the victim.

Sadly, a search of Gin's apartment had shown that he didn't own a gun.

Toshiro would have to worry about that later, as he still had something more immediate to deal with. He grimaced, noting that Matsumoto was still standing in the doorway, popping candy into her mouth as if she were watching some kind of comedy at the movie theater.

"Go finish your work, Matsumoto. And get me a towel while you're at it." He lifted his hand out of the coffee, hoping that it wouldn't damage the wood finish on his desk. Not that it mattered if it did. Toshiro scowled as she rushed off, turning to hiss at Mayuri, "Go do your damn job."

# - # - # - #

Retsu had been surprised by nothing after that night. It had been the biggest shock she'd experienced to date, and not even Nanao taking Shunsui back had been enough to throw her. Besides, anyone who knew the couple well could have seen their reunion coming from more than a mile away. It was a cycle that just kept going, and one hell of a ride for Nanao and her emotions.

Now, she had finished off her grocery shopping, putting things away in the cabinets as the news buzzed on the television screen with live coverage. Had the newspapers at the market not brought the situation to her attention, Retsu wouldn't have bothered turning the thing on. She wasn't one for mindless channel surfing, but the new found knowledge that the killer was in her area now had Retsu on edge. For the last two nights, which had been the time that the last killing had occurred, she had been unable to sleep soundly, waking every two hours or so in order to check the locks on the door and windows.

Grabbing a blanket from the closet, Retsu curled up on the couch with a hot bowl of soup, staring nervously at the screen as she lifted the spoon to her lips.

These, the images that flashed before her eyes, were horrid. The broadcast was coming from two blocks to the northeast, a quick ten minute stroll from her apartment building. Children could be seen in the background, all with wide eyes and shocked faces, many with hands clinging to the clothing of their parents. Some were crying, held tightly in loving arms before being whisked away to a much happier place. Retsu felt very much like the children she could see. Frightened, shocked, and curious. It was only to be expected for the little innocents, being far too young to understand exactly what a murder was. Even she, being a grown woman, couldn't fully understand. Yes, she knew what the context was, what things were classified as such unholy acts, but it was the motive that threw her for a loop. Money, possessions, even sex were things that people would kill for. But this seemed to be planned; a game of cat-and-mouse that this killer was playing with the cops.

Yet, she somewhat envied them. For the time being, the innocents were safe from harm, living within the refuge of their parents' homes while the rest of the people in the world fought for position, eager to claw their way to the top or, at the very least, to a place of solitude.

It then dawned on her that there was a chance that the despicable character in question was watching the news at this very second, reveling in the chaos that was being created, one body at a time. It was reminiscent of the hit films that came out every few years or so, the ones wherein people were killed left and right. The differences between the screen and life was overwhelming. In movies, the perpetrator was often zeroed in on immediately. In this case, that of reality, the murderer hadn't made their debut on the screen just yet.

As much as she had wanted it, Retsu was suddenly finding herself very fortunate that her papers to adopt from a child from the Ai No Kesshin Agency hadn't yet been approved. Were there a child in her care, it would have only served to worry her more. Still, she wanted one. She just wasn't willing to wait for someone to show up and aid her in that respect.

A loud sound from her room caused her to jump, eyes wide. It was likely that something had fallen off the dresser and hit the wall, but, as it had already disturbed her, Retsu found no reason why she shouldn't take care of it now. Besides, the later the hour, the more inclined she was to ignore trifles and go straight to bed. Pulling herself from the comfort of the couch, Retsu headed into her room, eyes looking for the source of the noise. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, crossing her arms as well. It seemed to have gotten significantly colder, which was odd as she didn't remember leaving the ceiling fan on.

Turning, Retsu stared at the window, gaping at the fact that it was shattered. Ignoring any ideas of danger, she leaned gently through the hole in the glass, wondering how it could have possibly been broken. She was alone, and hadn't had a visitor in three days. The sudden knock on her front door made her heart do a back flip, startled yet grateful that someone had decided to come along at such a time. She rushed out of the room, pressing her hands to the door as she struggled to unlock the latches. Living alone, one couldn't be too careful when it came to locking up.

Retsu wrenched the door open, curious as to why all the lights in the hallway were turned off. She peered into the darkness, making out the lit exit signs and elevator buttons that seemed to glare back at her. The blanket still around her shoulders, she ventured to ask if anyone was there, feeling rather foolish for doing so, as it appeared that she was, still, by herself. Stepping out into the hallway, it was as if the darkness had started spinning. It was all black, but it seemed to swirl over her head, creating various patterns that somehow had her entranced.

Suddenly, it didn't feel like she was suffocating in fear.

# - # - # - #

This didn't feel right. There was no sense of remorse in this person's eyes, no desire to sympathize and understand. It was all about filling a quota, obtaining that paycheck, fitting the perfect mold of the modern, nosy, seemingly kind teacher. Just another classic case of self-service. It was a waste being here, staring blankly at her own hand as it trembled. This woman sitting before her, what with her dyed hair and solid expression, was like a statue.

Being in her presence, listening to her, speaking to back in whispers, was like communicating with a wall, immobile, unfeeling, empty. She hated strangers, hated the way they made her feel. So long as she wasn't close to them, the people she knew would remain strangers. She'd even told this woman as much. She felt lost, alone, inferior, even with Uryu sitting beside her. That, however, had been kept silent.

Some, like this cold woman, might argue that she had gone against what she preached, having shared the most intimate of secrets with some unknown person upon their first meeting two months ago. Nemu wouldn't say it here, but she felt safe with Retsu, almost as if she would be the one to understand that which so many could not. There had been genuine empathy in her leveled gaze as the message had been conveyed, revealing to her a desire to aid and heal.

She had started off as a tutor, a complete mystery, only to end up a friend.

"This has to stop." His eyes were like flint, cold and unforgiving as he worked to stare their teacher down. "All of you do this. You ask the same questions, as if you're really expecting to get a different answer. You ask if she's ever been harmed, and when she answers, you don't believe it. It seems to me that the lot of you are looking for something to be wrong. As if some dark secret's being kept just because a student is raised by a single parent."

It was incredible, watching the stern look on the woman's face as Uryu went on, having completely disarmed her trap. He had a point. They did always ask the same questions at these meetings, as if doing so would trip her up or make her say something that wasn't true. She hated how they all wanted to believe something so dark.

"I don't see you bringing Ichigo Kurosaki in here for a nice little chat. I don't see you interrogating Rukia, Chad, or Orihime. From what I can see, you don't even bother to check up on the facts. You just start digging around like it's nobody's business, not even considering her feelings!" Nemu felt herself jump as he slammed a hand on the table. "Not once have you even asked me these questions, and I'm in the same boat! So, what's it really about? The situation she's in, or the persons involved?"

The woman hesitated, her eyes wide as she stared at the two. She wouldn't dare say it here, but Nemu was pleased that Uryu had the courage to say what she'd been thinking. He did her some good, taking a stand as he always did. It was a welcome bit of confidence that he instilled in her each time they were together.

She hadn't enough time to even blink as he grabbed her by the hand, swiftly ushering her out of the classroom. When they were far enough away, he broke into a sprint, leading her out the double doors and down the concrete stairs. Although it was well after eight in the morning, and a Saturday, no less, the sun somehow managed to peek through the heavy clouds, throwing down streams of light that hadn't been seen in several days. For some unknown reason, it seemed that the heavens were dead set upon showering the bustling city with an air of woe and despair.

After so long, she was pleased that there was something truly bright to look at.

She wanted so much to speak to him, to thank him for having said everything that she couldn't. It always seemed to work that way when they were together. It was as if she'd somehow printed her thoughts on a page that was invisible to the rest of the world, written in ink that only he could see. Perhaps that was why she'd felt lost for so long. There had never been anyone to guide her through the stages, and so she'd walked blindly, having made it this far based on dumb luck alone.

She wanted to tell him this, but the buzzing in her purse stole her attention. The plastic was cold in her hand, fingers darting across the screen, sending little vibrations through her arm. A sincerely unpleasant thing stared her in the face, garnering even Uryu's attention as he noted her unnaturally tense air.

It seemed that, on this day, nothing was willing to work itself out.