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 11: A Phantom In Those Eyes
Kisuke had his suspicions, but that's all they were at the moment. Vain ideas with no substantial evidence to back them. As such, he would condemn himself to silence and observe the situation as best he could. Being a man of the black market by trade, standing quietly in the background was his specialty.
When he'd caught wind of the incident, a mere twenty minutes after its occurrence, he'd sent some things, in the care of Yoruichi, to the hospital. The goodies had included a number of sweet-smelling herbs he had acquired, all legal substances this time, both for tea and the clearing of Retsu's head. As he maintained operations near her apartment complex, Kisuke was always in the know-how on the streets. He even knew how long she'd lived there. But it wasn't just her. He knew about the entirety of her building's occupants. That's just how he worked. The attempt on her life had been no exception. To the outsider, he was a shadowy character, but he was always the insistent one when it came to lending a hand. Even if his name wasn't printed nearly on the labels of his products.
In fact, he quite preferred it that way. It wouldn't do to have the police learning that he, a handsome street merchant, was dabbling in the workings of the black market. His reputation would, for certain, be soiled.
Returning to his aforementioned suspicions, Kisuke had every reason to believe that the man in the custody of the police had a hand in the murders, whether as the brains or a mere accomplice. Gin Ichimaru was very much like Kisuke himself, only not quite as refined. He was a sly fox, and a regular at the local bar, although he didn't drink. Again, it was naught but an empty idea, regardless of the fact that Kisuke wanted to stick a pin in him for the police. Still, when he considered the possibilities on a greater spectrum, he found that the arrow seemed to point to an old friend of the fox. An untamed fellow with a habit, and record, of taking advantage of young girls and their raging hormones.
In fact, as Kisuke had just learned, this Sosuke Aizen had recently supplied him with a generous bit of business, having purchased a significant supply of certain drugs that would aid his dark desires. Upon discovering this, Kisuke had been swift to chew out his associate, who had ordered said drugs from a local gang, the Yakusoku. Kisuke hadn't been kind with his words, having told the man that all business from Aizen was unwelcome, and that he was not to be taking anymore "special orders" without consulting him first.
In addition, he had quickly disposed of the man's payments.
He didn't want to be implicated for helping the man violate yet another innocent. He'd heard, within the last month or so, that a close friend of one of the captains on the Force had been simply stricken with Aizen, having offered herself to him as if he were some kind of deity. For that, the officer had gone out looking for blood. Now, what with Aizen having been found at the scene of another crime, the attempt on Retsu's life, it seemed that the captain was going to get his wish.
Now, Aizen seemed to have been caught with his hands in more than just the cookie jar.
# - # - # - #
When she awakened, there was naught but the dull light of the moon though the window to keep her company, the whistling wind mocking her foolishness as it swept through the leaves of the trees. She certainly felt foolish, having allowed emotion to overcome her in the last moments she remembered, tricking her into believing that help, someone to comfort her, had been on the other side of her door. It had been nothing more than a broken window and a cryptic message that had put her over the edge, but she couldn't rule out the news broadcast as a factor quite yet. It had been covering the latest murder, that of a man who lived in the very same building as she. Really, it had all been too much for her nerves to handle.
For weeks, she'd kept herself in check, not once letting on that she'd put in papers to adopt a child from Kyushu whose parents had perished while on a fishing trip. From what information Retsu had been able to gather, the child was a little girl of three, unwanted by extended family members and family friends. For that reason she'd decided to make the effort to bring her a life that she could love in the years to follow.
Thinking back on, what she believed to be, the night before, Retsu found it strange that her window, which sat on the seventh floor, could have been broken from the outside. Stranger still was the fact that she was alive with nothing more than minor gunshot wounds to her left side and leg. Recalling the events leading to the present, Retsu remembered that she'd had the buzzing of the television as company, but that had only served to further aggravate her after the discovery in regards to the window had been made. It still wasn't clear if the person who had committed the crime had actually been trying to kill her. She couldn't think of anyone, aside from Nanao, who had the key to her apartment. She did, however, remember the man who had been following her at the grocery store. He'd looked friendly enough, what with his soft brown eyes and hair, but there had been an air about him that had frightened her.
If there was anyone she'd peg for this, it was him.
"When Death knocks on your door, is it always your first idea to answer?"
She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Only when I remember that I'm suddenly involved with an emotionless block of ice." Retsu pressed a finger to her lips in mock thought. "Now that I think on it, I suppose I should have opened the door every other time he came by over the last three days. It really would have saved me the trouble of having this conversation."
There was a quiet sound as several envelopes fell from Mayuri's hand onto her lap. "Four," he corrected. "Found you this morning. Clearly, you can't rely on your neighbors for help. So, it looks like you're stuck with the heartless bastard."
Retsu ignored him, her focus now on the shredded ends of the envelops. Looking through them, she noted that she hadn't seen any of these papers before. A clear indication that everything before her was new, albeit having been pulled out of their respective shells. She leveled her gaze at him, raising her eyebrows slightly, wishing that she were close enough to snuff out the amused fire in his eyes.
"You opened my mail? Last I checked, that's a federal offense."
Mayuri shrugged, kicking the chair against the wall to the side of her bed. "Curiosity." He seemed to tense up as she placed her hand over his. "When these idiots decide to quit fussing, we'll take care of this."
Retsu's eyes widened and her jaw slackened, a rather large envelope having found its way into her hand. The logo in the corner was enough to make her heart skip a beat, as was the fact that it too had been torn open. She swiped it away, yanking the documents out and scanning them in a hurry. For months she'd been kept waiting, being told only over the phone that her forms had not yet been processed. It was a sincere relief to finally find that, at long last, she'd been granted a small shred of hope.
Finally, Ai No Kesshin had given her the green light to adopt one of the children in their care.
"I've no idea why you'd even want one," Mayuri huffed, shaking his head at her. "They get to be a real pain. Speaking of which, did I mention the fact that you died?"
First of all, children and death had nothing in common with one another. And second...
"What?"
Surely, it had to be a lie. Aside from the sharp stabs of pain that came and went, Retsu felt fine. A little dazed, perhaps, but not too out of the ordinary. She looked for some sign, any at all, that would allow her to catch him in a lie, or, at the very least, some cruel joke. To her chagrin, there was no indication of a myth as he waited for her response, the silent nodding of her student in the doorway, whom she had only just noticed, confirming it.
She wouldn't doubt Nemu, but it seemed unlikely that she could slip into the hands of death, only to be pulled back at the last second. Then again, having much experience in the most gruesome of settings, it wasn't exactly unheard of. Uncommon, given her state of being, but not impossible in the least. With that in mind, Retsu supposed that it was entirely probable idea that she'd been one of the few who'd left and come back.
There had been eyes, she remembered. A pair of eyes that, at the last minute, had stared back at her from that swirling dream of black and gray. They had been the same as everything else, the color having been sucked out of them at the last second, leaving her to draw a blank. As she was sure that the police would stop by to question her before she was released, Retsu thought it to be of great importance that she work to remember as much as possible.
# - # - # - #
When he'd been forced to deploy another unit that morning, Toshiro had been exhausted. For the entirety of the night, he'd sat up, replaying ever movement that both he and the killer had made over the last ten weeks. It was astounding, trying to figure this out, as it seemed that the bastard had everything planned just so. He felt as though he had been playing into the killer's hands over the last two-and-a-half months, and the young captain now found that he was putting himself through the wringer for it.
Toshiro was an intellectual sort, using his head rather than force or well-played words. He was one who enjoyed the simple things in life. Crisp air, light rain, and chess. Thinking about it, he felt as though that was exactly what he was doing. For this lengthy period of time, he'd been engaged in a battle of wit with this coward, having been played like a fool, as he'd allowed his emotions and personal attachments to get in the way.
But, in dire straits like this, it wasn't a wonder he got so worked up. It had been a difficult thing, clawing his way up in the world. Going from being an orphan on the street to foster homes, and, from there, to the warm embrace of a family who had wanted him. Everything from then on was nothing more than history. The death of his father, his savior, his acceptance and graduation from the police academy, and, finally, his current position as a captain in the Force. Now, to make things even more difficult, Retsu had been attacked in the dead of night, and his friend Momo had been named as the lunatic who was infatuated with a rather twisted individual.
Fortunately, said individual, Sosuke Aizen, was now in custody.
Toshiro had never liked the man, having only been in contact with him thanks to Gin and Matsumoto, but he'd never once pegged him as one to shoot a woman and take advantage of teenage girls. That impression of him had easily changed over the last three weeks. When he'd gotten the call earlier that morning, the one that informed him of Aizen being present in Retsu's apartment with a handgun, the youth had very nearly flipped the shit. To further add to his shock, Mayuri had been the one to catch the bastard. From what Toshiro understood based on the statement of the lunatic and a few of Retsu's neighbors, Aizen had tried to make a run for it.
If that didn't spell out "guilty," then Toshiro wasn't a police captain.
He strolled out of his office, graciously accepting the cup of coffee that Matsumoto had placed in his hand. He was beat, and not in the mood to quarrel with her about his preference for hot cocoa. Besides, he really could use the caffeine, as he wouldn't be off the clock until six-thirty.
"You don't really believe this, do you, Toshiro?"
The boy nodded. "I won't ask what my opinion means to you, Aizen. I already know. You believe yourself to be innocent, as all convicts do. If, by some stretch of the imagination, you're found innocent of the assault by means of forensic evidence, then that's fine. However, I know you're guilty of... other things."
They were too dreadful to speak of, and Toshiro didn't want to dwell on them. He'd requested that the chief take him off the other case, as he didn't want to make judgments based upon his own emotional attachments. The chief had commended him for this, and had graciously handed the case over to an older, more experienced, officer. Another captain, if Toshiro had his facts straight.
"I won't deny that," the man said with a chuckle. "But I digress... She loves me."
"She thinks she loves you," Toshiro shot back. "You ruined her. You took advantage of her wounded heart. Broke her down until she fell into your arms."
A smile. "What is it you're here for, Captain? As I understand, you've come to question me. Isn't that right?"
Toshiro scowled, closing the door behind him, crossing the room to the table. He dropped a small stack of files onto the cool metal surface, the chair scraping against the floor as he sat. If Aizen wanted to be proven wrong, then so be it. As he wasn't feeling to generous at the moment, Toshiro would be more than happy to comply.
"Where were you on the night of June 28?"
Aizen smirked, shaking his head at the boy. "You mean last night." A contented sigh. "If you must know, I was enjoying a leisurely walk. That's all."
"In Bunkyo, to be exact. To the southeast of Todai," Toshiro feigned surprise. "Very interesting. That's right where the event in question took place: the Sukikyo Yari apartments. Expensive, given the height and scenery, but beautiful place to live, really. A couple blocks from Ueno Park."
"I assure you, I wasn't there." The man's voice was flat all of a sudden, having lost that warm tone that made everything seem like a pleasant conversation. He was serious, but that wasn't nearly enough to save him. "It was like passing dream," he continued. "The lights of passing traffic were a blur, spinning."
"That's not relevant. Now," Toshiro tapped his fingers on the table, "you were seen entering the building. Based upon the statements we have gathered here, you used the elevator, which came to rest on the seventh floor. This was at around ten last night." Toshiro paused, the door opening as Matsumoto tossed a blue folder onto the table before leaving. The captain read over the papers inside, trying not to smile. "Forensics found traces of your DNA and fingerprints on both the weapon and the victim's door."
By this point, Aizen seemed to have given up on trying to convince him of anything. This action didn't pronounce him guilty, but the evidence did. The captain stood, stepping out into the hall as two officers dragged the man from the room. If Aizen were the one they'd been looking for, then it seemed a safe assumption that Gin was an accomplice, or, at the very least, in the know. It seemed that this case, that of the Irooni Killer, was drawing to a close, much to Toshiro's great relief. The man had terrorized Tokyo for over a year in the past, and now another two months in the present. Perhaps, now, he could finally get some real sleep.
"Captain!"
Toshiro groaned loudly, turning to see Tachibana running towards him with wide eyes. He swallowed a crude phrase, sipping gingerly at his coffee. "What is it now?"
The man bowed slightly, likely having seen the distress on his superior's face. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but we've found another body."
The coffee flew from the youth's mouth like water from a faucet, his blue eyes wide with disbelief. "What?" he roared, dropping the mug. The ice-gray piece of porcelain, which had his family name on it, shattered as it hit the floor, mirroring his peace of mind. "What do you mean, 'another body?' Aizen's in custody! It's been proven that he tried to kill Retsu Unohana!"
Another bow. "I-I'm sorry, sir!" Tachibana stuttered. "W-We just got a call from a woman in Akiruno. She said that she found a body under her car in the driveway a few minutes ago. From what she said about his clothing, we believe that the man is a member of the Yakusoku Gang."
"Dammit," Toshiro hissed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "This bastard just doesn't want to give us a break."
