Vermouth never was one for sentimentality. She knows that sometimes things won't go the way she likes, so why waste time crying over spilt milk?
She perfected the way she plays her little soldiers, perfected every word that slips over her lips, every glance she gives and every movement she makes. Everything is calculated. She knows the odds in this business, but she has been in it far longer here than most, and she knows the rules. So, well, that one day, everyone will be forced to play by a new set of rules. Her rules.
That's her secret, her mantra that keeps her running. The trick is to firstly learn the rules, and then beat them all at their own game. For this, she gave everything. Her life, her name, her identity. She's no longer Sharon Vineyard, nor Chris Vineyard. All those small sacrifices she encountered on the road she chose a long time ago.
But even the almighty Vermouth can fall. When she's not entirely sure, when she starts to stumble. Maybe befriending Kudo Yukiko was the first mistake she made. The Kudo's seemed to have a bad impact on her life in general, she muses, while brushing a loose strand of black hair behind her ear. The latex is comfortable on her skin. Most people would complain about masks, how they made your face itch and how they made it hard to breathe sometimes, especially full-face ones. But she's here for business and there is no room for doubt or complaint. Also, she enjoys the way the thin material allows her to be someone else, someone new, just under the nose of all these nosy people in such an easy way. Due to years of training and gaining perfection in almost every aspect, there was no imposer better than Vermouth.
"Doctor, the patient will get his check up in about 10 minutes!" the nurse (Li Anzu, 29, left handed, has a crush on the assistant medical director according to gossip, this woman was just a bit too stereotypical to not be suspicious and in conclusion, either FBI, CIA or TPD) tells her.
Vermouth smiles at her in a tired way that speaks of many overtimes and not enough coffee. Her alibi (Akiba Sora, 51, the kind of man you picture if you hear the word Doctor, one that gives candy to little children) is that kind of man who would smile that way at the end of a long day.
The police would find him someday, he may remember one or two things about his attacker, but it really was none of her business. She did not risk her neck to worry about doctors.
"Thank you, Li-san." The eyes narrow a bit when she walks away while pretending to read through a medical report. She gives herself at least eight Minutes before the army in blue will bark in. For a second, she thinks about turning around and smirking. It's an old reflex, the one that shows her enemies just how incompetent they really were. But then, she would have a gun pointed at her way too early and she will have enough time to taunt her beloved crime institutions after this, after she made it through this visit. Now, her time is too precious to waste it with teasing.
So, she innocently makes her way to the elevators and pretends to read through the medical report that was handed to her. According to this, her patient is a routine checkup. He wouldn't survive if the doctor stayed away for one day.
Suddenly, the doors open, and she comes face to face with a young girl. For a second, she forgets how to breathe. Mouri hadn't been part of her plan when she decided to sneak into the hospital. But here she was, looking Vermouth straight in the eye.
Vermouth never cared before if one of her chess pieces broke or got killed. She could simply find another one, one that would replace the fool that just couldn't keep up with the game. Now, she's about to do something very, very stupid. Normally, she should be long gone. The girl in front of her, that is. This place had become way too dangerous for both of them.
For a second, she's afraid that the confusion is displayed on her face, but then Mouri walks past her as if she didn't see the man in front of her.
Maybe she didn't. Mourning has an interesting effect on the human perception. At least she's here. It makes an unfamiliar knot in her stomach loosen that at least her Cool Guy isn't alone.
The doors close with a soft ping. The nurse has stopped looking at her. This confirms to Vermouth that she at least has time until her alleged patient will ruin everything. But she can deal with that. She has a plan.
She's all by herself again. The mirror on one side of the cabin shows her the figure of a middle aged man, a bit short and a bit fat, but overall a likable character, his hair starts to get grey at his temples. It's easy to slip into new identities if you don't have one yourself. It reminds her of Kuroba.
Hastily she turns her eyes away. She didn't thought about Kuroba for years, even with his son stealing in the moonlight. It's not her area not run after a legendary jewel, but over the years you learn to be at least a bit informed about basically everything. Still, she stayed away from it.
It wasn't because of loyalty or sentimentality, because Vermouth lost those feelings a long time ago (no, she hadn't lost them, she had thrown them away because they were useless little things). She wasn't interested in immortality. Not when it involved a myth and some fancy stone. What she's after is something based on facts and guinea pigs.
The floor that opens in front of her is deserted. Not a big surprise, because it's the floor that Kudo Shinichi is on. She bets every nurse or doctor needs to at least pass three background checks to make it to this floor. Not that this could stop them. If they would just catch the smallest amount of information on Kudo Shinichi, they would tear the whole building down instead of trying to sneak in through the staff. Or they would do both, just to be careful.
But it was heart-warming to see them at least trying to secure their little treasure. Two years too late, and totally unnecessary, but heart-warming.
She holds up her ID in order to pass the guard, and then steps into the room next to her little guy. The inhabitant is an old lady with a broken leg.
Vermouth almost feels something close to remorse when she increases the dosage of painkillers in order to silence the woman, but she's sure that the lady will survive it. Still she checks her pulse two times to be sure. Maybe the small distance towards the detective makes her soft and awakes some of her humanity that she buried a long time ago.
There's a door between this room and the next one, hidden behind a closet and wallpaper.
"You're making me put way too much effort into this, you know." she chuckles, while dragging the closet away from the wall, and starts to rip the ugly white wallpaper off, speaking to the boy behind the wall. "I blackmailed at least three people to get this far. What are you doing to me, Cool Guy?"
The door is locked, but she tricks locks with the same ease as she does with people.
The smell of disinfectant mingles with the one of roses. The room is plain. One bed, a window with a view across the backyard of the hospital, the white visitor chairs, and Kudo Shinichi the only things filling the mostly empty space.
Vermouth takes a second to take everything in. She's now sure that this will be a trap. How could she be that ignorant? Being able to sneak past so much security and not even a single guard inside the room? Honestly, they could have been more subtle. The window is too high for jumping, her only chance is turning around now and hoping that she would be able to make it out of the hospital before every single alarm went off. Maybe if she turned around now, the guard wouldn't even be suspicious about the doctor passing him.
She lets one of her fingers travel along his features. Young and hurt. At least they allowed him his old body back.
Surely not out of generosity. Maybe it had been some sick part of the game to finally let the boy reach his goal of becoming himself again. The air that rushes through her nose feels thin and suffocating.
He must have screamed, not only when his bones and skin stretched involuntary but also when Gin decided to have fun. She tries not to think about it, the way her body felt when she swallowed the pill back then. At least she did it voluntarily. Another sacrifice for her goal.
She hears the ticking of the clock like drums in her ear. The countdown towards the end. Which end, though? Her own? Or rather the one of the detective?
They will hunt him down as soon as he shows his face. They are powerful, even if the police tries to find them, they are too deep in the system to simply be ripped out.
Vermouth never hesitated to abandon one of her soldiers. She remembers the time she burned down a house and orphaned a young girl to protect herself. She was not the person to visit hospital beds and walk into traps.
"You're making me erratic darling, how mean of you." She rips the mask of her face, because now it feels no longer like a shield and more like a stranglehold. The boy doesn't stir. Instead, the door opens. Vermouth feels the twitch of her fingers, threatening to grip the cannula and put him to sleep forever. Maybe that would even be mercy for him. She's sure that there are people out there who would be way more creative when it came to getting rid of a detective.
"You must be Vermouth."
She throws her long hair over her shoulder and lifts an eyebrow.
"Angel, what a surprise. Thought I just saw you leaving." The girl across the room crosses her arms and doesn't say a word. Does she remember that Vermouth almost shot her while hunting down Sherry? Does she remember the rescue? Does she regret it?
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but you know, business is cruel these days." The bed is still between them, but Vermouth has seen Angel pulling of crazier stunts than jumping over a bed.
"What are you planning to do now, Vermouth?" Her questions are too cold and calculated for the normally calm and sweet girl. So uncharacteristic. She allows her lips to curl into a smirk.
"Why so cold Angel?" Mouri doesn't react to the tease, instead her eyes dart between Vermouth and her friend. Would she actually hurt her if she makes a move towards her childhood friend? It's an interesting idea, but Vermouth isn't in the mood for fights.
"Outside of this room are enough officers to arrest you. What are you planning?" Vermouth studies her features. She didn't sleep well, the bags are dark and deep. But she doesn't carry the weight of mourning with her. Behind her eyes burns a fire Vermouth just knows too well. "Revenge, Angel? That's a bit too much for a Japanese school girl don't you think?" She curses internally. Another one that wants to get tangled up in this mess. She already has a dying silver bullet, she doesn't need a misguided girl around her as well.
"You're not answering my questions Vermouth? Your plan." She could scare people like that, with her straight posture and the way her eyes are colder than the one's of her childhood friend ever were. But Vermouth was not an ordinary person.
"They are demons, Ran. Bloody, cruel, and capable of everything." She allows one of her finger to travel along Kudo's throat. "They would simply cut it open, making you watch while he bleeds out." Mockingly she presses a kiss against the vulnerable skin. Ran watches her, fist tight, knuckles white. "And they will laugh, Angel. The most cold and heartless sound you will ever hear." Ran flinches, just a little bit.
She managed to get under her skin, though. Vermouth doesn't feel triumphant.
The lipstick is bright and red against the pale skin, and Vermouth needs to look away for a second to not compare the mark to actual blood. She mind played herself, that's new and scary.
"I won't let that happen," her beautiful angel replies, but her eyes are too wide and her fists to tight. She surely did not think about this as a game. But Vermouth knows how to use words as weapons to paint the most grotesque pictures in other people's minds.
"Demons, darling. They don't care what you do." They will just break her wings and steal the most meaning things from her, just in the blink of an eye without Ran noticing. The Organisation is good at this, at the destruction of lives. "I wouldn't do this if I was you. He isn't worth it."
"Don't tell me what his worth is!" Ran doesn't scream, but her voice is raised. "He's worth more than hundreds of you and your shadow friends. And I will bring every single one of you down." She almost snarls, with her lips twisted into an ugly form and it looks quite like she wants to rip Vermouths throat out.
There's a folder between all the medical reports. Almost invisible and unsuspicious. It's the darkest and deepest secret Vermouth could dig out. It's her insurance against silver snipers and suspicious accidents.
But it isn't an insurance against Mouri Ran.
She sighs, because when did her life become this complicated? Since when does she care about her toys? Gin would laugh when he finds out that children managed to ruin the cold hearted Chris Vineyard, the ruthless Vermouth.
The girl regains her composure again, leaning backwards on her heels without breaking eye contact. How much would she be willingly to sacrifice for this information? Vermouth feels a mixture of fear and curiosity. How long until she will be a mirror of Vermouth?
She walks a dangerously thin line, one wrong step and she will fall down into the void.
"I will find every single one of them. After all, Demons are just fallen Angels." She smiles a cold smile that reminds Vermouth too much of her own, and even Gin's.
She wouldn't allow them to ruin something like this. Neither her Silver Bullet nor her Angel.
Her fingers dig slightly into the brown paper of the folder while she passes Shinichi.
"Don't be dramatic Angel, you have enough Demons to burn them down."
Love goes out to Disconsolate Mist. I love you, and your criticism and the time you waste on this Piece of shit I produce. So your thanks should go out to her, because there where a thrillion mistakes in this and now it is finally readable.
Please comment and feel free to criticise
Sincerely Anemonenfisch