Please read Disclaimer in Chapter One.
Title: The Book of Cat With Moon C10: The Territory of Fear
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: General, Suspense
Rating: K +/PG-13
Summary: Under the moonlight, blood looks black.
A/N: As always, thank you for reading this, and I appreciate your reviews!
The only thing worse than Injustice is Justice without a sword.
The Book of Cat With Moon (C10: The Territory of Fear)
by
Kenshin
Diamond daggers flew toward Kaitou's face with the speed of a runaway train, promising pain, blindness, the death of a thousand cuts.
Glued to the door like a rabbit frozen before an onrushing train, Kaitou could do no more than flinch.
But the blow never came.
There was a thickening in the air before him, a blackness blacker than the night. Where there had been nothing, a flying shadow was simply there, standing between Kaitou and Hiroshi, his black mantle, sword and scarf glinting under the moon. He blocked the hit, scored a ringing chime as shards met steel.
"Your opponent is me." The familiar voice spoke, lazy and sullen, as though the speaker had just been dragged out into the cold from a deep, comfortable sleep.
He did not acknowledge Kaitou, did not glance back at him nor inquire as to his general health, but Hiei had never been a more welcome sight.
Not to Hiroshi Ukyou. His mouth twisted, as if he had bitten into a sour lemon, and he snarled at Hiei, "Where the hell did you come from?"
"Tokyo."
Hiroshi was far from amused. "How did you get that sword?"
"It's the latest craze. All the boy bands have them."
"If you think for one minute that-"
Hiei cut Hiroshi off with a flourish of his katana. "Hello. My name is Hiei, and I'll be your ass-kicker tonight."
In spite of everything, Kaitou's lips twitched. Hiei's appearance heartened him, suffused him with strength. He pulled himself up a little straighter.
It would be all right. Hiei sounded more annoyed than anything. He would deal with Hiroshi, and they could call Minamino to treat Kaitou's wounds. It would be all right.
As the fighters squared off, a calculated stream of cigarette smoke veiled Hiroshi's features. He took a few moments to consider this new element. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to crash a private party?"
"Countless times, but I forgot to give a damm."
Hiroshi clenched both fists, arms stiff at his sides. "Get out of my way!"
His back to Kaitou, standing only a couple of feet in front of him, Hiei didn't budge. "There is one thing worse than injustice, and that is Justice, without a sword in hand."
"Very clever. Did you make that up all by yourself?"
"It's Wilde." Hiei swept the air with his sword in a whistling figure-eight, then snapped it into a guarding position. "If you're going to ape someone, at least get it right."
"How dare you-!" With his cigarette strewing ash like dirty snowflakes, Hiroshi went on the offensive. He jerked both hands upward, and countless glass shards rose like a squadron of airborne bullets. Flick. Opening his fingers, he hurled them in a wide fan, impossible for one person to block or deflect.
But Hiei was ready with countermeasures. His sword summoned a round blue dome of crackling energy, shielding both Kaitou and himself. The shield's essence thrummed, raised gooseflesh on the back of Kaitou's neck. Glass skived off the shield, then pattered harmless to the ground.
Hiroshi nodded, giving credit to his opponent. "It appears that you're more than just the garden-variety pop failure. What manner of stage effect was that?"
Hiei lowered his sword. The shield dissipated. He approached Hiroshi with his leisurely gait. "The real question is, can I let you live?"
Kaitou was struck speechless. Hiroshi was no match for Hiei. He was half-human, not some rogue monster in the park. Don't toy with him like you did Frog-Face!
"Looks like the has-been is smarter than you." Hiroshi addressed Kaitou, but he was glaring at Hiei.
Hiei shrugged. "I've had my eye on you a while now."
"Oh?" With one hand to his chest, Hiroshi assumed a look of pure schoolboy innocence. "Is it a crime to be half-demon?"
"Hell no," Hiei replied. "But Murder One is."
"There's that distasteful word again." Hiroshi took his hand from his chest, turned it palm-up, gave it a jerk. Scattered shards from the rooftop quivered, then leapt in the air. He flicked his wrist. Glass flew at Hiei.
Hiei swung his sword to block. A katana weighs perhaps five pounds, but in the midst of that action, Hiei's legs shook as though he held a much greater weight.
Even as the crackling blue shield formed around his sword, Hiei staggered. The shield vanished with a fizzing snap; glass hit his shoulder, ripping fabric and flesh alike.
Tap, tap, tap. The drip of Hiei's blood on asphalt.
Hiroshi smiled. "You were saying?"
Kaitou's relief vanished. It was true that battle-hardened Hiei could materialize anywhere and clock anyone before the target's nerve endings even registered pain-
But not today. Only a week ago Hiei had crashed unconscious to Kaitou's floor. Minamino said he had suffered more damage than just a dislocated shoulder.
As though he realized his window of opportunity was squeezing shut with each passing second, Hiei wasted no time in debate. "Enough fun for now." Sword-first, he charged.
"Again?" Hiroshi inquired. "Your type never learns." With evident relish, he hurled glass daggers at Hiei.
Hiei parried. Sword rang against shard-but for every deflection, Hiroshi merely swept his hands about, a puppet master in control of destiny.
This did not bode well. Slumping against the door, Kaitou braced his legs, but his feet hit a puddle of blood and he crashed to one knee.
There had not been this much blood before.
Mirroring Kaitou, Hiei also staggered back, went down on one knee. But even from that position he battled on, the sword singing, chewing glass to dust.
Something struck Kaitou's brow. He flinched-but there was no pain. Again, this time striking his cheek, his chin.
Raindrops. Fat, heavy raindrops, splatting against his face. The water revived him, washed clean his mind, washed away blood in a welcome bath. Thunder rumbled softly, as though the sky cleared its throat.
Kaitou understood now. He had thought Hiroshi needed help. But while he stood gazing at the moon, Hiroshi had returned to the office, had seen Kaitou's research on the computer. Having drawn the wrong conclusion, Hiroshi raced to the roof and attacked Kaitou while his back was turned.
Kaitou had reacted with fuzzy-headed shock and disbelief. But the time for disbelief had gone.
Shutting his eyes, Kaitou strove to throw that internal 'switch,' that would activate his Territory where no violence could take place. Hiei might not be able to defeat Hiroshi without killing him, but he carried a phone. He could call the police, call Minamino, call the Coast Guard for all Kaitou cared.
Trembling with effort, Kaitou strove to initialize his Territory. His muscled quivered. Sweat welled on his upper lip.
He could not do it. No familiar sensation of flipping that switch, of power going out from him, of a stabbing headache. He'd lost too much blood, waited too long.
He opened his eyes. It was all up to Hiei now. Kaitou could do nothing but watch the rain-silvered battle unfold.
His back to Kaitou, shaking but game, Hiei still guarded him against attack. Why doesn't he use fire, Kaitou wondered. Fire melts glass.
Thunder boomed. The rain could no longer be felt as individual drops. Flint scented the air.
Pressed close to the railing, Hiroshi regarded Hiei with utter loathing.
Hiei took no notice of either frown or rain, indicating the glass he had just reduced to sodden sand. "You're out of ammo."
"And you're out of breath." Flicking a glance to the side, Hiroshi chuckled. Gleaming in the rain, a glass-rich sentinel in the shape of a hammerhead shark stood at each corner of the roof. With a snap of his fingers, Hiroshi broke the heavy fixture to the left.
The protective glass surrounding the bulb shattered with a hollow clang. The bulb inside it shattered as well, sputtering orange sparks before dying down to darkness.
The January thunderstorm already seemed supernatural; now it was as though a zeppelin filled with water had burst overhead.
"Rain? That can't stop me!" Hiroshi's hands danced. Shards the size of vampire bats flew up behind him. He flung out his fingers, and the batlike weapons swooped at Hiei, seeking blood. They found it, tearing from Hiei a stifled grunt.
Why doesn't he use his fire? Because of the rain? Can't just lie here! Kaitou forced himself to his feet.
"You see?" Raising a sardonic eyebrow, Hiroshi drawled, "All I need do is stand here calmly and cut you to shreds, while you splash about huffing and puffing."
And Hiei was gasping for air. Turning his head, he spat blood. "Is that all you've got?" he taunted.
"Not in the least. But you, alas, are clearly overmatched."
"I wouldn't be overmatched against the likes of you three days after my death."
"Excellent image. Quite inspirational in fact."
Inching to the side, Kaitou glanced covertly at Hiroshi. If I can distract him, give Hiei an opening-
"Stay where you are!" Hiroshi's eyes flashed; he flicked a single finger. A switchblade shard struck the meat of Kaitou's right thigh six inches above the knee.
Thunder masked his cry of pain. Rain hissed like a nest of demon snakes.
Wearily, knowing it was futile, again Kaitou strove to cast his Territory. Cursing himself for failing to react sooner, he struggled until his teeth rattled and his tongue clove to the roof of his sour, sticky mouth.
Hiroshi glanced at the second light-pole. "Just what I needed. How thoughtful of the architects." He snapped his fingers; the fixture yielded a jagged hunk of inch-thick glass the size of a cafeteria tray. A hand-flick hurled it toward Hiei, head-height. Hiei saw it coming, swung, connected-but the impact cracked his sword in two. The tip of the sword spiraled away and clanged to the roof, raising a spray of water.
The second bulb went out. Ghost-blue light from the surrounding city painted the combatants with an eerie glow.
"Glass?" Hiei's voice curdled with disdain. "That's it? Just glass? Even with half a sword I can take you." Ignoring danger, ignoring the rain, Hiei simply ran Hiroshi down.
Hiroshi had his back pressed close to the safety rail. How ironic if he should misjudge the distance, topple backward, fall to his death.
For a searing, shame-blistered moment, Kaitou hungered for it: Die! Save us the trouble and die!
The sight of Hiei's charge must have given Hiroshi considerable pause. Gone was the look of arch boredom. His eyes bulged with fear. As Hiei splashed closer, Kaitou's former classmate skittered sideways like a crab along the polished metal rail, graceless in his terror.
Hiei remained in hard pursuit, slashing the air with his broken sword, ten feet away, five, two. Each step struck water-sparks from the roof.
It would be over soon, but Kaitou could not look away.
Hiei a sword's-length from victory. Hiroshi bared his teeth in a leer, twisted aside, spooled along the rail in a swift pirouette.
The roof was greasy from rain. Carried forward by sheer momentum, Hiei slammed into the safety rail.
Lightning clawed the sky, illuminating the scene with awful clarity. Hiroshi sent a hunk of glass flying at Hiei's back. The heavy fixture struck, pitching Hiei forward, lifting his feet from the ground. Simultaneously, by the same remote control, Hiroshi rammed another piece into the back of Hiei's head with a sickening crack.
The slick metal rail acted as an axis, and the heavy one-two punch of glass did the rest. One moment Hiei was there. The next, gone, off the roof.
Then there was only Hiroshi, laughing, and the sky spitting rain.
To Kaitou's reeling mind, he was at fault, had conjured Hiei's fall by wishing the same fate upon Hiroshi, and now fate had twisted his wish and sent the wrong man to his death.
Giggling, Hiroshi backed away from the edge. It was a laugh filled with schoolboy glee. The high, shrill sound sent worms of ice crawling through Kaitou's bones.
"Is that all it took?" Tucking in the trailing hem of his shirt, straightening his tie, Hiroshi strolled toward Kaitou, stopping some ten feet away, blue-washed against the backdrop of night.
"Thus perishes the has-been and his trick sword. Too easy by half."
Blood shining black against black in the moonlight, robbing color from objects. Shining liquid, a sacrificial altar, Hiei's blood. His own.
Lightning lashed the sky again, but could not return color to the world.
Hiroshi grinned. "Here you thought I was wasting my time up on that rail before, but you see, I was strategizing. And rather brilliantly, too."
Teeth ratcheting, icy with the shock of what had just occurred, Kaitou knew his time was short.
The rain let up, setting the stage for what was to come. Not an Ability, but a demonic power. How fate works, pitting me against Hiroshi. Kidou's Shadow might work against him, maybe Yana's Copy. My Taboo? I squandered the chance.
Somewhere along the line, Hiroshi had lost his cigarette. Without his usual prop, he looked almost naked. He strolled toward Kaitou. "As for you, dear senpai, it's regrettable, but if I remain on this rooftop, then the idiot police might catch on. After all, a body just hit the pavement, even if it is in an alley. Someone's bound to notice. No, I shan't linger. Rather I'll be on my way. But first..."
Hiroshi Ukyou, brittle of wit, casual of air. Will he be able to sleep at night with four murders on his conscience?
Kaitou wondered at such detachment, when moments ago he had been thirsting for Hiroshi's blood. A feeling of pity for Hiroshi in the midst of fear must mean he was unraveling, nearing his end.
The loss of blood had created in him not only a bitter cold, but a raging thirst. The rain was gone now, too late to ease his thirst, another irony. He would find it difficult to speak.
Words were all he had, words were how he made his living, but words failed him. Unable to defend himself, too late to save Hiei, too late for anything but one final gesture, Kaitou forced speech from his raw throat. "And what about you?"
"Eh?" Hiroshi seemed surprised by the question. "What do you mean, about me?"
The blue radiance bathing Hiroshi was similar to the glow cast by an old television set. In such an eerie light, the child Kaitou had been was trapped between fascination and fear, harried by imagination, watching monster movies.
We believe television to be harmless, yet the details of such fodder permeate both mind and spirit, terrorize us as though they had shape and form in the real world.
Kaitou's imagination had spun out of control about Hiei, ascribing monstrous properties and motives to the fire demon.
Now here came Hiroshi. If Kaitou were not so close to death, he could have persuaded himself that this figure was not his executioner, but mere electrons, having temporarily escaped from the prison of the glass screen.
Hiroshi's gleaming eyes, the faint sheen of water on his face, reminded Kaitou that here was no 'off' switch. Licking his parchment lips, Kaitou mustered the strength for another volley. "Can you live with yourself?"
"Oh, most assuredly," Hiroshi said. "I've plenty of money, so you need not give it a second thought."
"Don't do this," Kaitou pleaded. But he was used up; his words a dry hiss of sand.
Clenching a fist, Hiroshi studied the ground, as though battling within himself.
Perhaps he was. A mist of hope rose in Kaitou. Perhaps Hiroshi would see his mistake, would throw himself on the mercy of the law. Or perhaps he would simply abandon his folly, turn and quit the rooftop, confident that Kaitou had lost enough blood to die on his own.
And then if Kaitou could crawl downstairs into the hall and pray that someone remained inside one of the top-floor offices- the police would come sooner or later. Someone would see Hiei smashed on the pavement and call.
Hiroshi did not take long to deliberate. He did not leave the roof. Instead, a sliver of glass like a dragonfly rose and came to Hiroshi's summons, then hovered at his shoulder.
Dragonflies. Order, Odonata, sub-order Epiprocta. Spectacular, jewel-chromed flyers found near bodies of water. Harmless to mankind. Great hunters of insects. I Japan, symbols for courage, happiness, strength. As far gone as he was, Kaitou could reel off their characteristics.
But this dragonfly was not of nature's design. With a languid backhand gesture, Hiroshi flung it at Kaitou. Flying like the real thing, it slammed into Kaitou's left arm just below the shoulder as he turned to present less of a target.
Starburst of pain. Too weak to cry out.
Hiroshi seemed to be enjoying himself in an almost elfish, playful manner. He extended a beckoning index finger. The glass dragonfly ripped free of Kaitou's arm in an arc of black blood. It turned in the air, clumsier than a dragonfly, flew quivering and jerking, until it stopped near Hiroshi's shoulder.
Hiroshi cocked his head. "I'm waiting." His voice was light and carefree.
Waiting for what? Can't see his face. Can't see much. Dark going darker. But he could still hear. Hiroshi's voice floated over the rooftop: "Any last words?"
False dragonfly waits. Hiei has plunged to his doom. Silver moon sees all.
His own doom lay at hand in the guise of a former friend wielding a sliver of animated glass. Yet Kaitou's life did not flash before his eyes.
To his surprise, he saw rather, in separate, shutter-frozen incidents, illuminated as though by lightning-
Hiei. Back in the park, popping up on the streets, putting himself between Kaitou and the frog demon, all this time, all with a single message: You're dead, Kaitou.
(To be continued: "Better make your peace while you can.")
-30-