13章

サフランの欺瞞

Chapter 13

Saffron Deceit

The traffic through Shinjuku was far heavier than usual, and Chief Kichida Toru gritted his teeth. Not for the first time he considered flipping on sirens and lights, if only to move faster than a crawl, but resisted the urge. He didn't want to attract any more attention than necessary. It was the reason he had slowed when reaching the more populated portion of Tokyo away from Hell's Gate. The reason he never quite reached the speed limit when traffic decided to pick up the pace. No one needed to remember ever seeing his car after the day was over, and the best way to do that was to ensure he didn't do anything to remember.

As he began to merge into the next lane, Kichida flipped on his indicator instinctively, then glowered through his tinted windshield. Behind him the steel mesh cage rattled as a foot collided with it, and he glanced into the review mirror. The decidedly American man sitting in the cramped back seat of his car had finally thrown himself sideways so that he could lash out with his only available appendages, and even as Kichida looked, he threw another kick. His seat jolted at the impact, with the solid thud of his arrestee's foot hitting the steel plate in his seat reverberating along Kichida's back.

While the man had been quite vocal once he'd gotten over his shock of being arrested, it had taken him a bit longer than Kichida had thought it would for his tantrum to take on a more physical edge. Though just like his screaming, Kichida ignored his kicking, if with some difficulty. But as time wore on, with each impact against his seat and harsh rattle of the cage just behind his ear, his mood began to darken. Normally he could take on the ire of an upset criminal with ease, brushing off their curses and kicks with a cool calm. But then, this wasn't a normal arrest, and Kichida wasn't entirely sure what he had in his back seat. A human wouldn't require handcuffs specially-made by Oreille's scientists; a Contractor never threw himself about in such a manner.

Just as Kichida neared the final turn to his destination, the man lashed out once more, and Kichida's head jerked forward at the impact against his headrest. Glower turning into an angry scowl, Kichida hit the gas as he turned and jerked hard on the steering wheel. His seatbelt caught against his chest as the car turned violently, rear tires squealing against the tarmac. With practiced effortlessness he righted the vehicle and continued down the street as if nothing had happened, then looked into the review mirror to appraise the success of his maneuver.

Taken by surprise, his captive had not braced for the abrupt turn, and was now wedged awkwardly against the door between the passenger and rear seats. His angry, if reasonable questions of where they were going, who Kichida was, and why he had been apprehended devolving into a stream of expletives. Kichida turned his sight back on the road as the curses continued, and raised a brow at the colorful American obscenities. Which stopped the instant Kichida pulled into the alley of one particularly rundown restaurant on the outskirts of Kabukicho. Kichida stepped lightly out of his vehicle, and stopped, first making sure no one was around that shouldn't be.

At once a fine establishment protected in part by the Nakazawa family, the restaurant's neon lights had crumbled with disuse in the two years since it last saw a paying customer. The windows were broken, and through them he could see the ransacked interior. Cushions had been torn from their frames, tables removed entirely, and broken bottles of alcohol were strewn across the floor. Bullet holes riddled the entrance and had torn up the bar, time leaving behind only a few casings scattered among broken serving trays. Even the side of the building he stood at had been scraped and clawed at by bullets.

Kichida frowned at the sight, gave his surroundings one more cursory glance and headed for the rear passenger side door. On opening it he found his arrestee still wedged between the seats, and seized his shoulders in a rough hold and began to pull him out. Blood welled between his fingers as his hand closed over one shoulder, and the American shouted. Grimacing, Kichida quickly hauled him out of the vehicle and onto his feet, and slammed the door shut.

No sooner had he done so then the American attempted to make a break, but wasn't quite fast enough. Snagging his elbow, Kichida yanked him back then threw him against the car. He squealed when his hands and wrists were pinched between his back and the car, but cut himself short from screaming again when Kichida pressed the cool muzzle of his gun under his chin.

"Shut up," he growled, free hand on the man's throat, "Or I'll make you."

The man quickly clamped his jaw shut, staring at Kichida with wide eyes. Satisfied he had gotten the point, the police Chief holstered his gun, wiped the blood from his hand onto the man's jacket, and then hauled him toward the building. Keeping the American at arms-length, hand firmly grasping his elbow, Kichida stopped when he reached a door in the side of the restaurant that was remarkably untouched by any damage, and knocked once. It was all he had time for before the door opened, revealing not who he had expected to see.

She was lean, almost boyish, wearing only a plain white tank top and baggy black jeans. An indiscernible array of tattoos covered her arms, shoulders, neck, and dipped into the collar of her shirt. Only her hands were unmarked in stark contrast, as well as her face except for silver-blue star shapes on either temple. Her hair was very short and black, and her eyes were very green – and completely emotionless as she looked him up and down. As strong a signifier as ever that he was in the presence of a Contractor.

"Toru Kichida?" she asked, her accent vaguely European despite her strictly Japanese descent.

He ignored the informality of her greeting, and nodded after a quick look assured him the American did not, and probably would not, remember the name.

She stepped aside at his affirmation, and Kichida entered the shallow entryway. It was dimly lit, and littered with trash and cracked crates. The girl led him swiftly and silently down it to a door on the far end. Light seeped out from under the door, brighter than the pale bulb flickering in the hallway's center, and Kichida had to squint to allow his eyes to adjust as she opened the door. This time, he was not surprised by who he saw.

The room was small, and mostly barren save for a small table with a lit lamp set atop it and what looked like a glass of iced tea. A small box sat beneath it, neatly taped shut and tied with a bow. Next to the table was a chair of red-velvet cushions and dark wood, atop which sat Madame Oreille. Legs neatly crossed in her purple pantsuit and idly reading a book.

When they entered she did not immediately look up, continuing to read for a minute longer until she turned the page. Marking her place with her index finger, Oreille set the book down in her lap and eyed Kichida's carefully blank expression. Her free hand touching her lips and chin delicately.

"You are a very efficient man, Toru," she said with a smile.

"I did what you asked, so I can only assume our association is now over," he said firmly.

"Jacob, don't look so frightened," Oreille said, ignoring Kichida in a way that forced a crack in his façade, and he glared angrily at the woman. "It makes you look human."

"What do you want?" Jacob, asked hoarsely.

"Don't worry, dear, its nothing too strenuous on your part. And don't fret your injuries being a hindrance to what I have planned for you, either. You will be properly treated," she said silkily, and Kichida saw the man pale.

Wiggling her fingers at the tattooed girl, Kichida released Jacob as she took hold of his other elbow, and led him out the door. She closed it as she exited, and he almost expected to hear the lock clicking. Instead there was only the sound of their retreating footsteps.

"Now," she said, "why would our association be over? We've only just begun, Toru. Your usefulness far expands beyond a simple arrest, it will be some time before it runs its course. Unless, that is, you decide to reveal that little secret of yours sometime soon, I think I will be calling on you many times after this. For now, however, I believe this one pretty favor is all I require," she said, and Kichida's hands fisted.

"You are playing a dangerous game, Oreille," Kichida growled.

"Oh I am well aware of that, dear; but trust me when I say that the means will by far justify the end…at least for me," she replied smoothly, quirking an amused eyebrow.

"And what would that end be?" he asked.

"You can go now, Toru. We will talk again," her smile was devious, and for a moment Kichida considered shooting her.

No matter how many puppets she had dangling from the strings tied in bows around her fingertips, he doubted any of them would be much displeased by her elimination. If he killed her, no one would blame him for it; no one would even know it had been him to do it. This wasn't the Japan of sixteen years ago, no one counted bullet casings anymore. Even if he emptied his magazine into her chest, there was a chance slim to none that anybody would bother to match them to his gun.

The only thing that stopped him was the slim chance. He was already standing on a dangerous precipice as it was. Not to mention there was that lamentable curiosity to her plans, and the issues that would arise from the ones she had already set in motion. There was no telling what would happen if she wasn't in control…or what secrets would be spilled should she expire unexpectedly.

He turned away from the risk he was not willing to take, and made to leave only to be stopped by the singsong tones of Madame Oreille's voice.

"I trust this secret will remain with us?" she said, though it was only a question by default. She wasn't asking.

"Of course," he said, voice cool. He made to move again but was stopped a third time.

"Oh and Toru, you may want to turn your phone back on. I have this niggling feeling you will want to hear the messages."

Kichida bristled, shoulder's tensing, and he clenched his fists even tighter at his sides, but said nothing in response. Instead he walked crisply out of the room and through the empty hall. Distant thunder rumbled in unison with the rough jerk of his car door, and he sat heavily into the driver's seat. As he slammed the door shut behind him, he considered ignoring her advice, then pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and turn it on. As it booted up, he put on his seatbelt and started the engine, picking it up again when he reached the street and began to drive.

Glancing between his phone and the road, Kichida activated his voicemail and set the phone against his ear. Headed toward the bureau, as the first message hit him he slammed on the brakes, causing the cars behind him to honk irritably.

"Chief, I've received new intel from Astronomics, but am unable to reach Ms. Kirihara, Saitou, or Kouno. There is an issue with the Doll network, so Ms. Ishizaki sent me the data she collected, and you will want to know what I've found. Please call me back as soon as you get this, something's happened," Otsuka said, her tone frantic.

At the second message, Kichida was driving again, only this time with both sirens and lights blaring. Traffic parted like water in front of him, and he sped down the street, then turned across an intersection and headed north.

"Chief, it's Saitou. We ran into a problem at Mejirodai Sports Park. Kirihara, Kouno, and I were attacked by Contractors. The Contractors got away, including BK201. We're heading for Seibo Hospital now; Kouno is probably dead, Kirihara is hurt, and Mao is missing. The public police are handling the crime scene, and both Otsuka and Ishizaki are headed aware of where we're going too. I'm sorry, boss," Saitou said in clipped tones, direct and to the point, and Kichida's hands choked the steering wheel.

Seibo Hospital was about fifteen minutes from Mejirodai, and at least twenty to thirty minutes from his current position depending on traffic, which only seemed to be getting worse and more resistant to his passing. Kouno, a member of his team, was possibly dead. Kobayashi had assigned Kirihara to his team, making her his responsibility as much as Kouno was, and she was hardly doing any better. Indignation seared his throat and chest; they were his people, and someone had dared attack them.

Tires squealing on tarmac and scraping against sidewalks, Kichida did not stop until he reached Seibo Hospital forty-five minutes later, and only then to park his car before trotting toward the building. Cell phone pressed to his ear, Kobayashi greeted him at the door, and they exchanged grim expressions. Kichida didn't bother asking the Director of the New Syndicate how and why he knew to be there.

Kobayashi Goro tucked his phone into his pocket as they strode forward, ignoring the front desk entirely and leading Kichida further into the hospital. "It seems we have a bigger problem than we originally thought."

"We have an expected problem," Kichida corrected; "we all knew others were after the Nebulae."

"Yes, but there have been some unexpected developments. I've spoken with Ishizaki and Otsuka, and they are waiting to debrief you, Kirihara, Saitou, and me in Kirihara's room right now. I will let Kirihara and Saitou tell you what happened in the park themselves," Kobayashi said, as they stopped in front of a door.

"What of Kouno?" Kichida asked before Kobayashi opened it.

Kobayashi's expression did not change, but it seemed to soften slightly. "Critical, but alive." Then he opened the door, and they strode into the crowded hospital room.

Kirihara sat up in the bed she had been placed in, wearing only a hospital gown and a series of monitors attached to her. An IV dripped into her arm, and she seemed far paler than usual, but otherwise alright. Despite the beating she had clearly taken judging by her face and her braced wrist. Though he doubted that was the extent of it. She seemed more uncomfortable with where she was, than why. She consistently pushed up her glasses even though they hadn't slipped any further down her nose.

Next to her sat Ishizaki, her legs crossed and hands clasped tightly together in her lap. She seemed both angry and sad, but mostly frustrated. He'd never seen her so frazzled. Some of her hair had come loose of her thick, wavy ponytail, and her eyes were red. The corners of her eyes were smudged slightly with mascara, and her white lab coat was wrinkled. It was hard to tell whether it was from crying or aftershock.

Beside Ishizaki stood Saitou, as close as he could get to Kirihara without invading the astrophysicist's space. His posture was rigid, fists clenched at his side and expression withdrawn. He, too, was pale, though Kichida doubted it was from anything worse than anxiety. Unlike Kirihara, he appeared mostly unhurt save for the bruises forming on one side of his face, his split lip, the scrapes of his knuckles, and the blood that stained the front of his suit. Blood that appeared to not be his, and Kichida's jaw clenched.

Her arm nearly touching Saitou's they were standing so close, was Otsuka. She, obviously, had been crying, though the resolute set to her chin clearly stated she wasn't going to anymore. Eyes, cheeks, and nose red, she kept brushing back her bangs with one hand, the other clutching a clipboard and folder against her abdomen. Her fingers shook, and she kept shifting her weight back and forth. Alternately only brushing Saitou's arm, then pressing against it.

But as soon as Kobayashi and Kichida entered the room, all eyes were on them. Otsuka stopped brushing back her bangs, and Ishizaki uncrossed her legs as if in preparation to stand. Saitou looked up only briefly, then back down, shame written in the tight line of his mouth and crinkle of his eyes. Kirihara sighed and almost looked equally ashamed, though she did better at hiding it

"Now that we are all here," Kobayashi began, shutting the door behind them, "Kirihara, Saitou, why don't you tell us what happened, and we'll follow up with a report from Otsuka and Ishizaki. Leave out nothing, curb no details. I think I speak for both Chief Kichida and myself in saying I want to know everything that happened."

"We were attacked," Saitou started after a brief silence, then seemed to choke on the words, and stopped.

On seeing his struggle, Kirihara took up the conversation and proceeded to tell the Director and Kichida what had happened. About how the Contractor who controlled wood had stabbed Kouno, and then attacked her and Saitou. How Saitou pulled Kouno to safety, and called for backup, possibly saving his teammates life. Not aware that Kirihara had been pinned down by a man who may or may not have been in league with the wood-wielding Contractor, and how he had almost killed her.

When she told them of her rescue by the Black Reaper, Kichida's interest in the conversation intensified, and he hung on to every word. BK201 killed the man that had assailed her, then proceeded to attack the Contractor, allowing Saitou to escape and her to come close to doing the same until she was cut off. She fired once at the Contractor, and hit her target, but as the Contractor retreated he killed Mao's host.

"Hei warned me an instant before the impact; I had just enough time to escape into a new body," A voice said from the direction of the sink, and Kichida's eyes cut to the bird he hadn't noticed before.

"Hei," Kichida said dully.

"The codename he received from the original Syndicate," Kobayashi clarified, but Kichida only nodded slowly.

"What happened after? Saitou's message mentioned you were missing," Kichida rallied, and Mao ruffled his feathers.

"There's an adaption period where I have to adjust to the new host every now and again," Mao said, "It doesn't happen all the time, but going from mammal to avian took a little getting used to. By the time I was able to reunite with Saitou he had already called you."

"What of the Black Reaper?" Kobayashi asked, "What happened after the unknown Contractor disappeared?" Kirihara hesitated before answering, as if trying to remember, and Kichida took the moment to conceal the realization that crossed his face.

He should have known. He should have known the moment he got the assignment, or the phone call from Saitou. He should have known when Kirihara first mentioned the Contractor in her tale. The attack happened at Mejirodai, and it was Mejirodai where he picked up Oreille's target. He had to have been the wood-wielding, highly emotional Contractor – the very same that stabbed Kouno. The very one he had helped escape in delivering him to Oreille.

When Oreille had ordered him to Mejirodai, he'd assumed it was after Kirihara and his team had already been there. He'd had to wait a little over an hour before going, it should have been plenty of time. So he'd thought he got to the Contractor after they already finished at the spot. But he hadn't, which meant Oreille must have known they would encounter Jacob, hadn't told him, and had let it happen. She could have stopped it, and chose not to.

Before he could do something foolish, Kirihara gathered herself, and began to speak again. "BK201 escaped," she said, averting her gaze, "and I made my way back toward our vehicles. Saitou, a handful of police, and EMT's met me halfway. After that we headed here."

She finished succinctly, and Kobayashi turned to Saitou. "Anything to add?"

Saitou shook his head as he spoke. "Kouno had found something, but we don't know what. I instructed the police to keep an eye out for anything unusual – not the Nebulae specifically – but I haven't heard back. They don't know the extent of what happened," he added, and Kobayashi nodded.

"Ishizaki?"

The astrophysicist rubbed her temple with one hand, her other arm hugging her belly as she spoke. "The Shion Doll Network is out of commission. About the time they were being attacked, while the Contractor's stars were active, the Dolls began to behave erratically. I sent the star data to Otsuka to research while my team and I stabilized the problem. But by the time we regained control, one of the Dolls was dead from an aneurysm, and another is in critical condition. The rest just aren't responding to commands or any kind of stimulants, though their vitals are normal, and they seem fine. Their specters just won't move, or appear at all in some cases. Like they're frozen. They're not going to be able to help in locating either BK201 or the unknown Contractor," Ishizaki said, voice thick.

Irritation at the mention of the Contractor flitted across Kichida's consciousness, and he cracked it into oblivion.

"Otsuka, what of the data?" Kobayashi moved the conversation forward, and the youngest member of their group inhaled deeply.

"I gathered all the documents pertaining to the star Messier codes as provided by Ms. Ishizaki, and I may have discovered a…bigger problem," she said, and handed each of them a stapled packet except for Ishizaki. Kichida only glanced at the diagrams, complicated math, and photos. "Two of the stars in the packet we already know about. Mao, of course, was one of them, and was active only briefly. BK201 was also active. As we all know, his identity is unknown, though we know he was involved in the Hell's Gate Incident. We don't know exactly to what degree, but he's been inactive for the most part since then. Until the Nebulae became known, that is.

"Our bigger problem, however, isn't BK201, but comes from the third star, KL586. His name is Andrews Jacob, and he is an American Contractor."

End Chapter 13

Darker than Black – I'm still here AMV

By: FmaAlphonseHeiderich