Author's Note:
In Japan, the coroners often assist with field investigations along with their other duties. They are drawn from the ranks of police detectives who have studied forensic science, and often spend much more time in the field than they do in the morgue. Many hold the rank of captain, putting them at an equal level to most investigative teams.
Because nearly all Japanese dead are cremated, the autopsy process has created tension between the police and the civilians in the past. Autopsies are rarely used in most areas, due to this and other reasons. Many areas of Japan lack medical examiners, so even when an autopsy is requested, no one can perform it. As you might guess, this means that suspicious deaths can often slip under the radar. In many places, it's unclear who even has the power to order an autopsy or investigation.
Just a few interesting tidbits I found while researching for this chapter.
Chapter 14: Mission Impossible Remix
There are so many ways this can go wrong, Juushiro mused to himself hours later. He stood next to Yoruichi and Shinji on the roof opposite the police station, waiting patiently as the last officers trickled out. All three wore black shihakusho, minus the captain's haori they all were entitled to wear. Shinji plucked at the fabric irritably, while Yoruichi continually smoothed down the front of her gi. Juushiro wondered briefly how long it had been since either one had shed their gigai. A hundred years? Possibly; Soul Society had never detected their spiritual pressure, and only the gigais could conceal it that completely. Seeing as their gigais behave identically to their spirit forms, maybe they never had a reason to leave them. Juushiro couldn't imagine being trapped in a flesh shell for a century, but the gigais worn by the vizards were hardly ordinary bodies.
At last, the last visible light in the building flickered out. A weary, balding man stumbled out of the door, heading straight to his car without looking around. The three shinigami shrank away from the rooftop edge. Even if the man had looked up, he shouldn't have been able to see them, but Juushiro preferred the sense of safety. You never knew when you would encounter one of the rare individuals with enough spiritual pressure to notice the shinigami. Plus, it was always slightly unnerving when humans looked straight through you.
Yoruichi waited for several minutes after the man drove away before jumping lightly off the building. The other two followed, landing easily in front of the police station. Juushiro sent his senses out wide, searching for any hint of reiatsu. He ignored the dark, edgy coil that was Shinji and the fire of Yoruichi; only human and doom beast energy mattered. He found none of either, and whispered as much to Yoruichi. She nodded, probing at the locked door with a strip of metal. It clicked open under her hands, making her grin victoriously. Juushiro wondered if she had been the one to teach Kensei how to pick locks – Shunsui had told him about the vizard's skill.
They slipped inside the darkened building, closing the door with a soft thud behind them. Shinji flipped the lock closed, just in case anyone came back to the station. They stood in a large entranceway, lined with doors on either side. Several hallways led to the right and left, marked with helpful signs for visitors. A welcome desk stood in front of them, currently deserted, with a worn chair behind it. It was pitch-black – Yoruichi's eyes gleamed dimly in the dark as if she was a real cat. A skylight set into the ceiling provided the only illumination.
Juushiro held up a hand, summoning a touch of kido fire into his palm. It was enough light to see each other fairly well, though the ends of the halls remained clad in shadows. Yoruichi strode confidently towards the end of the hall and the elevators. Somehow, Urahara had produced blueprints of the station, which showed that the morgue was on the lowest floor. The feline shinigami prodded the down button, tapping her foot impatiently as the creaky machinery ground into motion. The noise made Juushiro flinch, though neither Shinji nor Yoruichi seemed bothered.
The sudden squeaking of old hinges startled all three of them, however. Yoruichi spun at the unexpected noise, relaxing only when she saw the heavyset older man step into the doorway. "Anyone there?" he called, squinting towards the frozen shinigami. The human had no trace of reiatsu, so he shouldn't have been able to see them, but none of them were willing to risk moving.
Unfortunately, the elevator took that choice out of their hands. It beeped loudly, doors sliding open behind them. Light spilled out into the room, and the man took several steps forward. "What's going on?"
"Come on!" Yoruichi hissed. She seized both men, dragging them back into the elevator.
As the doors slid shut, they heard the man mutter, "Damn elevator. Always acting up."
"Thank goodness for old technology," Shinji joked, pressing the button for the basement. He tipped his head towards Juushiro, saying, "Thought you said there wasn't anyone around."
Yoruichi snorted before Juushiro could reply. "I couldn't sense that guy either, and I doubt you could have."
Juushiro sent her a grateful glance. First miscalculation, he thought. The humans may not be able to see us, but they can certainly see the objects we interact with. It was something to keep in mind. In this day and age, the humans were unlikely to blame unusual occurrences on mischievous kami or poltergeists. No, they were more likely to go hunting for the culprit with guns and fists. Sometimes mortals could be truly terrifying.
The elevator lurched to a halt, interrupting his musings. They walked out, only to be confronted with an imposing pair of glass doors. An electronic keypad, numbers glowing a faint green, barred the way. Shinji cursed under his breath. "I don't suppose you know how to hack that?" he asked Yoruichi without much hope.
The former captain shook her head regretfully. "That's Kisuke's deal, I'm afraid."
"Sometimes I really wish we were insubstantial, like ghosts," Shinji sighed. "It'd make things so much easier."
Second miscalculation: assuming that the humans wouldn't protect their data. Why didn't Kisuke come up with a plan to counter electronic security? The genius scientist was usually so good at anticipating and avoiding obstacles. They could use kido on the lock, but that would surely set off an alarm. "So what now?" he inquired softly.
Yoruichi smirked. "We call Kisuke." She held up her cell phone for emphasis. After a short conversation, she covered the speaker and informed them, "Apparently the security feeds for the station are on a closed loop, whatever that means, so he can't disable the alarm." She looked at Juushiro. "But he wants to talk to you." She passed the phone to Juushiro, who took it with a startled expression. He listened intently as the scientist described a complex series of kido spells that should, in theory, show them the order the keys were usually pressed in. As the correct password would be entered much more frequently than any wrong string of numbers, pressing the keys in that order should open the door.
It took the pale captain several minutes to assemble the spell in his head, and many more minutes to actually execute it correctly. The first few times he tried, all the keys lit up, earning him a weary sigh over the phone. But eventually, he sent the delicate magic coursing through the keypad at the perfect frequency. The keys lit up in order, and he punched in the code. The doors whooshed open. Yoruichi hummed approvingly. "Nice job."
Shinji stretched as he rose from his sprawl against the wall. "Let's go," he urged, eager to finally do something. He led the way into the darkened room, blinking as fluorescent lights buzzed to life above them.
The first thing Juushiro noticed was a pair of stainless steel tables, bolted to the tiled floor. Strange metal instruments lay in a neat row on top of one table, while the other held several folded white sheets. More metal equipment, resembling medieval torture devices, rested on top of a long table in the back. Various machines lurked there as well, reminiscent of Kurotsuchi's lab. Pictures of things he preferred not to examine too closely lined the far wall. The walls on either side of them held metal drawers, which surely housed the bodies being autopsied.
Soul reapers were no strangers to death, but the cold silence of those rows of freezers sent shivers down Juushiro's spine. Shinji pulled open the nearest drawer, only to lean back with a sound of disgust. Juushiro glanced over and immediately wished he hadn't. The body was mangled, hardly recognizable as human despite an effort to put it back together. Something had smashed in the skull and ripped open the ribcage, shattering bones and pulping internal organs. Shinji swiftly shut the drawer, throat working hard in an effort not to vomit.
Yoruichi grimaced. "Alright, let's find what Kisuke wants and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps." She strode over to a set of filing cabinets, starting to rifle through the folders. A few seconds later, she hissed irritably. "There's no way to tell what body these belong to, and they're all organized by case number."
"The bodies are labeled with the number," Shinji offered.
She wrinkled her nose. "Fine."
So they began the gruesome task of opening drawers to find the desiccated corpses shown on the television. It was heartbreaking work. Many of the dead had been violently murdered; gunshot wounds and knife marks were common. Too many were terrifyingly young. Juushiro pulled open one drawer to reveal a boy, no more than ten, with a battered face and bullet holes in his abdomen. How had a child gotten mixed up in something so violent? The boy's ribs pressed starkly against his skin, and his scrawny limbs bore no muscle; he had been starving before he died. The captain's stomach roiled uneasily.
To Juushiro, their actions felt like sacrilege. No one should view the dead in this way, laid out with all their secrets exposed. It was too intimate. He had the uneasy sensation that they were violating something best left undisturbed. Yoruichi and Shinji must have shared his discomfort, for they worked in silence broken only by the sliding of metal on metal.
After too many minutes, Shinji found the first of their victims. Up close, it was clear that this was not a normal corpse. Skin stretched tight over withered limbs, riddled with dark lines like cracks in a shell. The closed eyelids fell slackly over sunken eyes. The man looked like he had been mummified. A subtle hint of foreign reiatsu lingered around his body, further proof that this was one of their victims.
"Are you sure?" Shinji asked cautiously.
Juushiro nodded. It took all of his skill to detect it, but the taint couldn't be mistaken for something else. It was not a perfect match to the doom beasts' reiatsu, but it was close.
Yoruichi dug through the filing cabinet and pulled out the folder corresponding to the number on the man's toe tag: Case 89514. She spread the files out on the table.
Name: Ryuu Hiroshi
Age: 23
Born: July 5, 1991
Died: April 18, 2015 between 1 and 5 am
Cause of death: drug overdose; drug unknown
The file went on for pages, describing the man's medical history, work history, known relatives, and more. A full toxicology report was included, though the technical language meant nothing to Juushiro. Hopefully Urahara would be able to understand it. Yoruichi took careful photos of every page with a handheld digital camera, positioning them to get the best light, while Juushiro and Shinji searched for the rest of the victims.
In the end, the morgue held twelve corpses, though the news anchor had reported over thirty dead. They ranged in age from 17 to 56, and came from a variety of ethnic backgrounds. Both men and women were represented, though the men outnumbered the women seven to five. The cause of death was the same for each one: 'drug overdose; drug unknown.'
At last Yoruichi sighed, arching her back. "That's everything we're going to find here." Juushiro and Shinji began sorting papers back into the proper folders, eyes sliding over pictures of laughing, happy men and women. The contrast between the photos and the dead bodies was just too great. You'd think you'd become numb to death after a while, Juushiro thought wearily. No such luck. Though maybe it is better this way.
A whisper of wind was all the warning they got as the doors slid soundlessly open. "What the hell are you doing?" The voice cracked like a whip in the silence. Juushiro felt a folder slide from nerveless fingers, and scrambled to catch it before it could burst open. Third miscalculation: expecting not to run into humans with decent spirit energy. In hindsight, that was a very foolish assumption. Shinji chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.
Only Yoruichi maintained her poise. "You can see us?" she asked sardonically, arching an elegant brow at the stocky woman clad in a white lab coat.
The woman rested her hands on her hips, stepping fully through the doors. "What kind of question is that? Of course I can see you. Now what the hell are you doing in my morgue?" Either she hadn't noticed the swords strapped to the waists of her unexpected visitors, or she had dismissed them as costume props, for she didn't give the weapons a second glance.
Yoruichi prowled forward with the grace of a panther, reaching into her shihakusho for some small object. "Don't worry about it," she purred softly. "In a few moments you won't remember anything."
The woman's eyes widened as she raised her hands defensively. "Now wait a minute!" she protested. "What do you mean?" Yoruichi pulled out a pen-shaped device, and the woman struck. Within seconds, Yoruichi lay flat on the ground, with the woman on her back holding her arm in a painful lock. The device skittered across the ground, vanishing under a table. The Shihoin heir could have escaped easily, but unwillingness to hurt a human kept her rigid for a few seconds.
Juushiro stepped forward, hands outspread. "Everyone calm down," he urged quietly. "Miss? We aren't going to hurt you. Can you let our friend go?" Yoruichi glared at him, a silent reminder that she could escape any time she choose. He ignored her. At least she hadn't revealed her true speed, remaining true to their guise as humans.
"Not until you explain why you're here," the woman snarled. Despite being outnumbered, her voice held no fear. Juushiro had to admire a human with the courage to face down three soul reapers without batting an eye, even if she didn't know what they were.
The pale captain sighed. He could tell that this woman wouldn't be satisfied by anything but the absolute truth. So they would give her what she wanted. If necessary, they could wipe her mind afterwards, but he wondered if she might be a useful ally. In interest of defusing the situation before she got hurt or triggered an alarm, he said, "We're here about the recent rash of drug overdose deaths. We want to know what's causing them."
Shock made the woman's eyes widen. Then they narrowed suspiciously. "Why? Are you drug dealers?"
Shinji chuckled, tongue ring flashing. "No, my lady, we aren't. We simply want to prevent any more needless deaths."
She rolled her eyes. "So I'm to believe that you're good Samaritans, acting out of the kindness of your own hearts? Not likely." Her grip on Yoruichi tightened. "Try again."
"We'll explain everything if you let her go," Juushiro promised calmly. Yoruichi's reiatsu was writhing irritably, and he didn't want the former captain to do anything impetuous. He tried to project honesty and trustworthiness into his own reiatsu in the hopes that she was sensitive enough to notice.
Apparently she was, for she sighed and released her grip. Standing, she offered Yoruichi a hand, and said, "You can start with what you are. You're obviously not human." Surprisingly, the Shihoin princess accepted her aid, taking her hand and rising gracefully. The woman eyed her wryly and added, "You could have broken my hold at any time, couldn't you?"
Yoruichi shrugged fluidly. "Only if I wanted to hurt you. I'm Yoruichi Shihoin. This is Juushiro Ukitake, and that scruffy gentleman is Shinji Hirako."
The woman bowed her head slightly. "Akane Suzuki. I'd say I'm pleased to meet you, but I'm not really sure that I am."
Juushiro bowed. "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Suzuki-san."
Shinji snickered. "You're rather blunt, aren't you? Hey, Yoruichi, never thought I'd see the head of the stealth force taken out by a human!" The feline shinigami bared her teeth in his direction.
"You're no better, it seems," Suzuki retorted. He gave her a wicked grin. She ignored him, crossing her arms over her chest. "An explanation please?"
Yoruichi hopped up on the desk, curling her legs underneath her. "It's quite simple really. We are what's known as shinigami; our purpose is to guide the spirits of the dead to the Soul Society." An oversimplification, but it would do for now. She proceeded to give a brief explanation of hollows and soul burial, while Suzuki watched with a neutral expression.
When she was finished, the coroner sighed wearily. "I'd like to think this is all a prank, but I've seen other people wearing that uniform and fighting monsters like you've described. So I believe that much. But that doesn't explain why you're in my morgue, going through files you shouldn't have access to."
Juushiro took up the thread, describing the doom beasts and their suspicion that the same drug had caused the recent surge of deaths. Suzuki appeared skeptical, but she had to admit that the drug matched nothing in her extensive databases. "There's some similarities to methamphetamine, and part of the compound is practically identical to rohypnol, but the entire cocktail is something very strange. Some of the data it returns should not be possible, but I've run the tests numerous times, and they always give the same results." The soul reapers exchanged glances. That certainly sounded like something Urahara would find fascinating. But the coroner hadn't finished speaking. "Even so, it is a physical drug. Not something from this Soul Society place. So I don't know how it can have the effects that you described."
The white-haired captain spread his hands. "I don't know either, but then none of us are scientists, I'm afraid."
Suzuki looked at them incredulously. "You're saying you broke in here to steal data that you don't even understand? What are you planning on doing with it then?"
Yoruichi tilted her head to one side. "We've got a friend who can analyze the data; he'll be very interested in these results."
"So why isn't he here with you?" the coroner inquired.
Shinji snorted. "Too busy in his lab, he says. I think he just doesn't want to get his hands dirty."
To their surprise, Suzuki laughed. "I know a few researchers like that. The world could be burning down around them and they'd still remain in their little ivory towers." She eyed them wryly. "I'm afraid your friend is going to be disappointed. The official tox screen results don't have much useful information in them."
"What do you mean?" Juushiro asked, puzzled.
"All they really say is that the drug is an unknown specimen," she explained. "It's dressed up in fancier language, but that's the gist of it. I ran a substantial number of extra tests to analyze the chemical makeup of the samples, but those results aren't in any of the files."
The pale captain narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"
Suzuki shrugged tiredly. "The brass aren't interested. As far as we can tell, the victims ingested the drug voluntarily. Since they weren't murdered, and the department is overworked as it is, no one really cares about the newest street drug killing a few junkies."
"That's horrible," Juushiro said, aghast.
"That's life," she corrected. "Unless a relative comes in and makes a fuss, these deaths are self-inflicted drug overdoses. And since half these people don't even have next-of-kin listed, I doubt we'll see any grieving family members asking for a thorough investigation."
Shinji rattled his tongue piercing against his teeth. "How's that possible? I thought you people kept track of everyone."
The coroner rolled her eyes. "Not everyone. There are a number of people who are, in effect, ghosts in the machine. They may have chosen to become that way, due to ties to criminal organizations, or they may have simply slipped through the cracks."
"So can we see the extra tests you ran?" Yoruichi asked, shifting restlessly on the desk.
Suzuki shook her head firmly. "Those results are classified. Besides, they wouldn't mean anything to you."
Yoruichi looked at her like a teacher with a pupil being deliberately obtuse. "Then can we take the results back to our friend?"
The coroner gave her an unimpressed look. "Again, no. Does the word classified mean anything to you?"
Juushiro interceded before Yoruichi could return the verbal barb. "Suzuki-san, we would really appreciate your help," he pleaded. "Your results may help us find the person creating these doom beasts, saving any number of lives."
She ran her fingers through her short brown hair pensively. "I can't allow classified data to leave this building," she replied slowly. "But if you're right, and this drug is deliberately engineered to kill people or transform them into monsters, then I want the madman who created it caught before he does any more damage." She frowned, studying them warily.
"I know you don't have a reason to trust us," Juushiro said gently. "Is there anything we can do to prove our sincerity?"
Suzuki exhaled heavily. "Bring your friend in tomorrow afternoon. If he can convince me that he's trustworthy, I'll show him the data."
"Kisuke, trustworthy?" Shinji muttered under his breath. Yoruichi glared at him. He stuck his tongue out at her in a childish gesture probably learned from Hiyori.
Juushiro ignored them both. "We will do that. Does 3 pm work for you?"
She nodded. "Tell the front desk you're here for me; I'll let them know you're coming as consultants on the drug overdose cases." She paused. "Wait, do you have a way to become visible to normal people?"
The pale captain chuckled. "We do; don't worry about that. Thank you, Suzuki-san."
"Don't thank me yet," she returned wryly. "If your friend can't give me a good reason to show him sensitive data, you're back at square one."
Juushiro bowed to her. "Still, you are willing to help, and that is a rare thing. You deserve our thanks."
"How about you finish cleaning up the mess you made, instead?" she suggested.
He laughed. "Of course." They made quick work of the remaining files, rapidly putting everything back where it belonged. Yoruichi thanked the coroner as well, but she just waved the thanks away. It was nearing two in the morning by the time they slipped out of the building, thankfully avoiding any more incidents.
"See you two tomorrow?" Shinji asked, hiding a yawn, as they landed in front of the shoten.
Yoruichi nodded. "I'll tell Kisuke the plan. Let's meet back here before heading down to the station, it'll be easier to coordinate that way."
They reentered their gigais, which Urahara had kindly stored for them, and bid each other goodnight. A quick shunpo trip later, Juushiro stood on the balcony of the hotel room, staring up at the clouded sky. He took several deep breaths, letting all the tension from the night escape his body. Finally, they had a lead. It remained to be seen how useful it would be, but they had a concrete clue at last. The coroner had seemed like a good woman; she would help them if she could. While they couldn't restore the dead to life, they could prevent further deaths, and that was almost good enough.
Once he felt grounded and calm, he slid the door open and slipped inside. Shunsui grumbled something unintelligible as the pale captain curled up against his side, pressing chilled skin against warm. Juushiro sighed, relaxing into his lover's warmth. As sleep slowly dragged him down into darkness, he felt Shunsui shift and throw an arm over him. Even fast asleep, the lazy captain loved to cuddle.
Author's Note:
The takedown Suzuki used is based on a kenpo gun defense. Yes, it works even on highly-trained people, especially when they're taken by surprise. It works on my sensei, who has been training for over twenty years. While Yoruichi in an expert in hand-to-hand combat, she wasn't expecting the attack, and didn't want to hurt an innocent human, which is really the only way to break out of a takedown in progress.