Chapter Thirty Two: Target:- Guren
There was still no word on Shirogane.
Guren sighed, pushing the pile of papers that lay on his desk together absently into a haphazard pile before getting to his feet, crossing the floor of his study to the window. Outside he could see his twin brother, robed once more in the elegant emerald and cream of the family amid the soldiers who were all eager to report to him, but from the tension in Seiren's body language Guren did not need to hear a report to know that his oldest nephew had so far escaped all attempts to bring him home.
Perhaps it was for the best that way.
Guren leant up against the panel walls, watching idly as Seiren gave his men a fresh bunch of orders, waving his hands expressively as he put across his point.
He had always been that way, ever since they had been children.
A frown crossed Guren's brow as he remembered the many spats they had had as small boys, sometimes with wooden bokutou and other times with fists and feet. There had been countless occasions where the two of them had lined up outside this very office, both studiously avoiding each other's gazes as they had waited to face their father's wrath for bringing the whole family into disrepute. Their arguments had been the talk of the whole Clan at one point – Guren winced slightly at the recollection, acknowledging as an adult now the things he had not realised when he had been a child. Then Seiren had been his enemy – his rival for his father's attention and mother's affection, and as Senaya's chosen son and heir he had always wanted to push his brother back into second place.
Father never saw how well we could work together.
As Seiren made his way back inside the building, Guren reflected on the changes there had been in Kuchiki leadership since his father's assassination at the hands of the Shihouin Clan.
We hated each other even then, but we hated those who had betrayed Otousama more, and that hatred bound us together. Brothers in arms we will never be, perhaps – but I have come to trust in and rely on him in ways I would never have done when we were young. I remember telling my nurses each time Seiren was sick that Father should not call the doctors and should just let him die. For a small boy to say such things must have horrified all of them – but I didn't understand what death was then. Now I do, and I regret that wish.
He closed his eyes, allowing memories to flood over him.
"One day the Clan will be in your hands, Guren."
The voice was deep and gentle, and Guren could still picture his father's dark grey eyes piercing through him as he stood before the desk, his face freshly bruised and his arm bandaged from his most recent fight with his twin.
You will learn then the reason that you were given a brother."
"I don't want a brother." Guren had answered sulkily, his seven year old features twisting into an ugly grimace. "I wanted to keep Raiko-nee. Why was Raiko-nee sent away? Seiren should be sent away. He can't do anything useful anyway – Raiko-nee should have been my sister. She can make spirit magic, just like I can. If she'd stayed, we could've played together always."
Senaya's expression had rarely given away his true feelings, but on that occasion, his father had sighed, resting both his hands on the young boy's shoulders and Guren remembered even now the warm weight of those fingers against his tiny frame.
"Raiko is not coming back." He had said simply. "You must forget her – for your own sake, for my sake, but for your Uncle's most of all. Raiko can no longer come here, and this Clan will need you all the more now she is gone."
"Why can't she?" Guren had not understood, quizzical eyes raised to his companion's. "Where has she gone? I'll go get her, Father – surely someone knows where she…"
"Your brother is Seiren." Guren had put his finger to Guren's lips at that moment, and despite himself the young boy had faltered, unsure of what he had wanted to say. "If you make an enemy of him now, my boy, you will live to regret it for the rest of your life. You will be Clan leader, but no Clan leader can ever rule alone."
"But…Father…you're Clan leader." Guren had been confused by this. "You rule alone. Why…"
"I rule this Clan, but your Uncle is always there in my shadow." Senaya had explained softly. "One day Seiren must be your shadow. God only knows that I didn't want things to be this way. You fight so much I wonder if I was wrong…but I have to believe that you will overcome that. One day I won't be here to talk to you like this. One day you'll have to make your own judgements and forge your own kind of Kuchiki Clan. For the sake of the family, Guren, you must accept your brother and he must accept you."
Well, Father, I did that.
Guren opened his eyes.
You would be proud of me. Proud of us both, perhaps. The way we rallied around after your death meant that things were dealt with quickly and concisely. It was a harsh baptism into understanding all the things you told me as I was growing up. But though that's been the case for this long, I still…feel distance between Seiren and I. For the sake of the Clan we work together – for that end we probably always will. I trust him, but as friends? I wonder. I sometimes wish I knew what it had been like for you, Otousama – when you and Kinnya-ojisama were leading this Clan.
His gaze drifted back to the mess of papers on his desk, and with a sigh he returned to them, reluctantly beginning to flick through them as he tried to separate them out into their relevant piles.
This also isn't like me. I have much to do, and the busier I am, the less Ribari preys on my mind. Though it isn't Ribari I'm thinking of this morning, but Shirogane. My son is dead and beyond my reach – but my nephew…I wish I understood what exactly was going on here. Something is at work – something out of my hands and I can't quite put my finger on what. Shirogane's behaviour since the night my son died may have been erratic…but…haven't we all been, those of us who were close to Ribari? Isn't grief reason enough for acting out of character? If Seiren manages to bring him back alive, I will have many questions for him. But I can't believe Shirogane would betray me. Shirogane is Masane's son – Masane who always used to plead with Seiren and I to speak to one another instead of just through her. I can't believe it. I won't believe it. There must be another explanation for all of this.
A piece of paper fluttered from the desk to the floor and Guren bent to pick it up, realising it was the letter that Seiren's men had found among Shirogane's papers. Slowly he unfolded it, reading not the words but the style of character as he tried yet again to work out whether it could have been penned by his nephew.
If he were here, I would stand him before me and command him to write – but he is not, and I cannot.
With a sigh Guren dropped it down onto his desk.
And that scrap of paper – from Father's nikki? Such an insignificant little piece – more as though it was there for the point of being there than to convey any kind of message. To strengthen…something. Like what?
He turned towards the shelves, running his fingers along the spine of the books until he reached the old, battered tome that had once been his father's diary. It had been read many times and Guren knew most of its contents by heart, but this time he found himself not looking for what was written there but instead, for signs of things that were not – of places where pages might have been removed, or simply fallen out due to age.
Seiren was uncomfortable with talking about the nikki. I wonder why. It's not as though there's even much mention of him inside it – or of me, except when Father wanted to strut about things like our betrothal ceremonies. I…wait.
Guren's brows knitted together and he flipped back the pages, bringing the book closer to his line of sight and scrutinising the paper carefully. Where the leaves had been stitched together, there was just the faintest of rough edges, and as he used his fingers to pry the spine apart just a little, he realised with a jolt that it was the remains of a sheet – not removed through age or wear but carefully cut from the book with the sharp end of a knife.
Something…removed…from Father's nikki.
Guren turned back the page, skimming his gaze over the last paragraph of the one before. It was an account of a legal meeting, he realised – a day of debate and negotiation over various Clan policies.
It's not obvious that something's missing. I don't know why someone would remove a random description of a court meeting when we keep minutes in the archives. But if that was taken out of this book, other things might have been too. When Father died? Because Father died? Was this also the work of his assassins?
A sudden breeze whipped through the chamber and Guren started, setting the book down as he turned towards the window. He had not unfastened it, but in the moments he had been focusing his attention on the nikki, someone else had – and now a dark shape huddled on the windowsill, hooded and robed all in black. The figure's features were concealed by the dark fabric, but at Guren's movement he snapped his head up, and the stunned Clan leader found himself staring into a pair of empty golden eyes.
For a moment fear paralysed him, as memories of his father's death flooded through his body. Then, as the figure launched himself silently from his perch, Guren hurriedly gathered his scattered wits, pulling his sword from its sheath and swinging it up just in time to parry a blow from a black-bladed dagger.
"Who are you and what do you want?" Guren threw the assailant off, and like a cat he landed on the ground, though there was something clumsy and unsettled in his gait as he steadied himself for his next attack. There was no word spoken, nor any sign of emotion in the gold eyes as the black clad apparition struck forward again, knife raised as if to slice through Guren's neck and shoulder in one sweeping movement. Though Guren was tall and strongly built, the assassin's resolute attacking style took him off guard, and he found himself taking a step back, parrying each slash and stab of the dagger with his zanpakutou's sharp blade.
"I asked you a question!" He exclaimed. "Who are you and what are you doing in my study?"
There was still no reply, and Guren was chilled by the blank stare that greeted his questions. Yet as the haze of fear and recollection began to fade, the Clan leader realised that whoever this attacker was, his method was forthright and direct but not particularly sophisticated. Berating himself for being reminded so easily of Senaya's Shihouin assassination, Guren steadied his wits, bringing his zanpakutou up in a diagonal sweep that knocked the weapon from the boy's hands, sending it careening across the polished floor. It came to a halt with a thud against the sliding door, but the assassin did not seem particularly perturbed by the loss of his weapon. Instead he reached out his hands, launching himself bodily at Guren with fingers clawed, groping for the older man's neck or throat with a dark determination the Kuchiki found hard to quantify.
"Bakudou no Ichi. Sai." He muttered, flinging his hand out to stop the golden eyed boy in his tracks, and as the attacker's arms and legs pinioned back behind his body, he fell to the ground with a thump.
He bore a weapon and he meant to hurt me. But such a feeble attacker stands no chance against one of the few in Seireitei who hold Bankai.
Guren knelt down at the boy's side, a slither of golden energy snaking out from his fingertips to confine his prisoner even more firmly.
Bound with Hainawa, stopped dead with Sai. Basic spells with little force behind them…why was I scared? Father's death was a long time ago – does it still haunt me so badly, or is it simply the sight of one with the will to kill so soon after losing my only son?
Reaching a white gloved hand across to loosen the hood and fabric around the assailant's face, he carefully pushed the fabric back, his brows knitting in consternation as he took in the features of the person who had attacked him.
Golden eyes stared back at him, but it was the distinctively dark skin and the thickly bound violet hair that most struck Guren's imagination.
A Shihouin. Make no mistake about it. Have I doubted the girl's testimony needlessly? Maybe Seiren was right to believe her. Here is the Shihouin who killed the stable folk. And here he is trying to end my life. Only I am not a stable hand. And he cannot kill me.
His eyes narrowed.
Did one like this kill my son?
Out loud he said,
"If you value your life, speak. Tell me who you are working for, and why."
The youth – and yes he was a youth, Guren realised with a jolt, probably no older than Ryuu if that – simply stared back at him, not making any attempt to speak. His eyes still showed no sign of emotion – neither fear nor anger, and somehow this unnerved the Clan leader.
As though you're here but you're not here. I've not seen that before. It's as though I've bound a corpse – but a corpse who is alive.
"Guren-sama!" At that moment there was a pounding at the door, and Guren got to his feet, moving to unfasten and open the divide. Beyond stood soldiers, anxious, eager expressions on their faces, and Guren found that he was glad to see them.
"Guren-sama, someone has infiltrated the grounds!" One soldier reported. "Who and what their purpose is unknown. Therefore…"
"I can answer your questions. You have arrived rather late." Guren could not keep the edge from his voice as he stood back, revealing the Kidou-sealed youngster for the first time. "Who he is will have to wait. For the time being you may consider him someone who sought to end my life. Possibly…more than just mine."
"Guren-sama…"The guards exchanged looks of horror, and Guren reached out a hand to tap the nearest on the head.
"You. Go find Futsuki-dono and report this occurrence to him. Tell him he's needed at once to the prison to interrogate a captive of mine. And you." He tapped a second, "Make a report to Lord Seiren that my life has been threatened – although I am unharmed. Tell my brother to make sure that with his other enquiries general protection of this manor isn't bypassed – just in case there are others we haven't yet found. The rest of you – take this miscreant and lock him in the cells. You may report to Lord Futsuki when you do - I will come myself to deal with the matter presently."
"Yes sir." Like frightened rabbits the soldiers hurried to obey their leader's orders, and Guren sank back against the wall, the tension seeping out of him as he realised he had once more regained control. His hands were still shaking somewhat beneath the heavy folds of his Clan robes, but he folded his arms so that his men could not see it, watching instead as the would-be assassin was borne away.
He was too weak to kill me. The enemy we've fought so far has been too strong or smart to capture. I wonder if that's important. I'll see what Futsuki thinks.
His brow creased in consternation.
And perhaps for now, I won't involve Seiren too greatly. He'll see this as further proof against Shirogane. I don't want to see it that way – so for the time being, I'll handle it myself. No harm was done. I wasn't killed, and we now have a lead we did not have before. Assassins rarely speak before their captors – but if he's bound, it's unlikely he can take his own life before I have a chance to persuade him to talk. Even though he looked at me so blankly – there must be something I can get out of him.
He bent to pick up the assassin's discarded dagger, turning it over in his hands. It was plain in its design, black from blade to hilt, and Guren could quickly see it was not a typical Shihouin weapon. On the contrary, it bore similar hallmarks to the knives that had been retrieved from the body of the groom and Guren realised that this was proof at least of a connection between this attack and that.
Had the stable attack been a test run, to see how vulnerable the Kuchiki defences were to outside attack?
Whatever the truth, there's no mistaking one thing. That boy is a blood Shihouin, his features give him away in every respect. He isn't some illegitimate descendant or half-blood dissident. He's a son of the Clan.
Slowly he slid the weapon into the folds of his obi out of sight.
Weapons made in a District that the Shihouin currently have strong trade links with – not Clan weapons, therefore no connection to the Kyouraku, as such – but still, obtaining such a thing would not be difficult now there is such an alliance. Well, my return to the Council is coming up, and the Shadow Cat is conveniently the current chair. I shall have to raise the matter with her…and see how she responds.
There had been quite a show put on in the main house that day.
Nanaki paused at the edge of the manor building, watching with a mixture of curiosity and fascination as the green and cream clad retainers hurried in every direction, some shouting orders and others hastening to obey them. An attack on the head of the Clan was a big event, she supposed – though the flurry of activity also made her feel somewhat scornful towards their efforts.
One man over the lives of other men. There it is again, those layers of importance in people's lives. Guren-sama is supposed to be a good Clan leader. If that's the case, he won't be so easy to kill, I'm sure. Still they run around like headless chickens in panic that some evil will befall him. Idiots, all of them. As if someone like that boy could lay a blade against a practicing shinigami.
She sighed, sinking back against the wall to catch her breath. It had been easier than she had thought to escape from the guarded chamber, for once word had spread about an attack on Guren's life, the manor's military personnel had all abandoned any less important posts in order to secure the grounds more completely. She had therefore been able to move around almost without being noticed, and it had been at that point that she had realised the advantage her time working as a maid for the family had given her.
She not only knew the layout of the family home, but where to acquire a serving girl's uniform and, once dressed that way, any of the house's menial staff who had seen her had simply greeted her and thanked her for her hard work. She had once more become invisible to the retinue now intent on saving their Lord's life, and with her hair whipped back behind her head and a cleaning cloth clasped in her hands nobody had even blinked when she had slipped into Guren's office to reclaim the Kyouraku pendant taken from her care.
I don't know if he still has use for that, but probably he'd just send me back for it if I didn't bring it away with me. After he's gone to so much trouble to create a diversion so that I can escape…that would only create more problems.
She glanced down at her hands, opening her fingers to gaze at the Clan pendant.
I suppose the girl who really owned this is dead now. I didn't even know her name – I suppose that's for the best.
She shrugged, looping the necklace once more around her throat and sliding the pendant beneath the folds of the maid's uniform.
What's done is done. And now they will have to investigate the Shihouin connection. They'll believe what I told them and if they think I've been taken by other assassins, so be it. My job here is completed. Now all that's left is a very special rendezvous.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
One without some irritating gold eyed monster lurking in the shadows playing unwanted chaperone. I don't mind if the Kuchiki kill him. He's more than half dead anyway.
As the courtyard began to clear, she smoothed down her skirts, making her way carefully towards the rear gate. There was only one man on duty here, and as Nanaki approached, he hailed her with a wave and a warm greeting.
"Can't let you out of here, Nana-chan. Captain's orders. Nobody's to leave."
"But…my brother…" Nanaki faltered, injecting a tragic, harried expression into her young features. "With all of this…he's left alone. You know that he needs me to be there. If I'm not, he'll get scared with all of the commotion and…"
"Ah, I suppose it can't hurt." The old retainer patted her gently on the arm. "Nobody will care about one serving maid less, I'm sure. Go on – I'll pretend I didn't see you. They're hunting men with swords in the manor – I doubt you're high on their list of suspects."
"Thank you! Thank you!" Nanaki's heart leapt and she grasped the man's hand eagerly. "I won't forget this – thank you for understanding!"
"Well, and a bright smile from a young'un like you is enough reward." The old man said gently, stepping aside. "Quickly now. Captain said he'd be back in a few minutes and you don't want him to see you."
"No. I don't." Nanaki nodded. "Thank you again…I owe you!"
With that she was gone, haring down the tracks and pathways towards the village where they had made their base.
I hope he hasn't decided to go somewhere else. It's a dangerous place, so close to the manor, but now…
She sighed, crossing the village threshold and pausing to glance around her.
The chaos hasn't got here yet. They haven't started searching the local area for likely suspects, so maybe I'm still in time. But if the house is deserted…I don't know what to do. I don't know where he would have gone – I can't predict his movements that easily, not even as his wife.
"Were you looking for me?" A soft voice broke through her thoughts and she swung around, eyes lighting up with relief as she met his amused muddy ones.
"I was." She said proudly. "I have a report to make – I've done everything you told me to do, and more."
"I've been hearing about it. I'm proud of you." His hand on her shoulder made a buzz of warmth flare up inside Nanaki's heart, and he smiled. "But we can't spend too much time here. The bait's been laid in a trap and they've probably taken it – but you are known to them now, and so we need to move on. For a little while…we'll have to go back to where we were before."
"So long as I'm with you, I don't mind." Nanaki assured him. "The guards at the manor are crazy over Guren-sama being attacked. While that's going on, we can go wherever you want."
"He did his job right then, this time?" Masaki's eyes narrowed, and Nanaki shrugged.
"If you mean, did he botch the assassination, I guess so." She said dismissively. "But we've discarded him now, haven't we? We don't need him any more."
"Mm. I'm still thinking about that." Masaki admitted. "But for now, yes. We'll go. If he dies in the meantime, it won't be the biggest loss. He can't betray us because he can't even say his own name, let alone either of ours. If he even had the capacity to retain that information."
"Which he doesn't." Nanaki said darkly. "I'm glad he's not here right now. I want to spend time with you – and we don't do that since you brought him back from District Two."
"No…we haven't had much alone time for a while." Masaki agreed regretfully. "All right. But I will still need you to do one more thing here before we give up on this part of the plan completely."
"One thing?" Nanaki looked surprised.
"I think it might be as well to contact Lord Seiren and emphasise to him your fear of being killed." Masaki smiled. "By letter or in person…one way or another. Make him think your disappearance was a flight of fear. For now it would be troublesome if he suspected you – since your testimony is paramount in his suspicion of Shirogane-dono and I'd like to preserve that paranoia a little longer. Do you think that he'd buy that?"
"He's the kind of man who's soft when it comes to protecting a helpless hime." Nanaki's eyes became thoughtful. "Yes, I think he would. If you want me to, I'll do that. I'd better do it in person, though – he'd recognise Nanaki's handwriting as the same as his letters otherwise."
"I thought of that." Masaki's smile widened and he slipped his fingers into the folds of his cloak, pulling out a folded sheet of paper and handing it to her. "And I wrote a brief few lines in preparation. I had hoped you'd be willing to take the gamble and arrange a meeting with him, so I took precautions just in case."
"Mm." Nanaki unfolded the sheet, glancing at the few short lines, then nodding her head. She refolded it, handing it back to him.
"All right." She agreed evenly. "It's just to talk, and so I'll do it. I don't know if Seiren is useful or not, but I'll play along since you want me to. If you can get this message to him, I'll meet with him – so long as he does as you've asked and comes alone."
"Yes, agreed." Masaki said thoughtfully. "Guards would not be helpful. I'll keep an eye on you from the shadows, though. You won't be without defence."
He brushed his fingers against the tip of the tantou knife that rested lazily between the folds of his obi.
"We'll be ready to fight back if there's trouble. All I need you to do is play the scared exile on the run, and you do that so beautifully."
"I've had plenty of practice." Nanaki sighed. "But I don't really mind. So long as I get to spend a little time with you first, I'll do whatever you say."
"And he's been just like that ever since your men brought him down here."
Futsuki rested his hand against the steel bars of the cell door, turning to meet his brother's troubled look with a frustrated one of his own. "Exactly like that – exactly as you see him. He hasn't tried to move at all – nor said a word to anyone."
"I see."
Guren's lips thinned, and for a moment he was silent. Though he seemed calm enough, Futsuki knew his half-brother well enough to detect the anger and indignation swirling just beneath the surface, and he sighed, returning his attention to the captive.
The boy was probably about the same age as Ryuu or Shirogane, Futsuki decided, and his attire, all in black had been put together from common fabric, not the expensive silks and cloths favoured by most noble families. His physique was exactly what one would expect from a young and capable assassin – he had good muscle tone and the lithe build of someone used to stealth work from an early age. Fighting back against the guards who had held him should have been second nature, but despite that fact he had not made any move to free himself from their hold. On the contrary, he had allowed himself to be taken with such docility that even when the cell door had accidentally swung free of its catch, the captive had made not attempt to escape.
His skin, his eyes and the thick violet hair that now hung loose around his shoulders all indicated that this boy was Shihouin, but there was something unnerving in the young man's vacant gaze. The body, the clothing, the weaponry all suggested a killer with years of special training. But there was an empty heedlessness to those amber eyes that was entirely at odds with everything else.
He did not seem frightened by his surroundings, nor did he seem curious. Though his gaze shifted occasionally from the walls of the cell to the men that had gathered outside it, there was little in the eyes to suggest any understanding of what was going on. It was as though the body had kept on moving but the soul had long since departed.
Futsuki pursed his lips.
"To be honest, if it wasn't for the fact he attacked you directly and you're the witness…I'd find it hard to believe he did anything at all."
"Smoke and mirrors." Guren murmured, moving to the edge of the cage and gazing down at the hunched, grimy figure. "He has the eyes of a corpse, Futsuki. Don't you see it too? There's nothing in that gaze."
"Yes." Futsuki agreed grimly. "I had that same thought. As though the set has been perfectly dressed, but that really is all it is. As you said it – smoke and mirrors."
"I've not seen quite that expression before." Guren responded. "But it leads me to wonder whether…"
"I've already sent for a physician to take blood from him and test for all the most common known poisons." Futsuki nodded, understanding his companion's concerns. "Unless the Shihouin have developed something for mind control, though, I don't think that we'll get a result."
"The Shihouin are good with poisons." Guren said darkly. "And let's not forget my son died from poison. Not to mention…the events leading up to that death."
"True." Futsuki acknowledged. "One of which was a poison Retsu-sama of the Unohana didn't know."
"Yes." Guren's eyes became stormy. "I wonder if we asked the Shadow Cat the same question whether we'd get the same reply."
"Hrm." Futsuki's eyes narrowed. "In all my years working for the security of the Clan, and in all the times I've sent agents to keep tabs on the Shihouin, I've never gotten the feeling they were very much involved in science. Till Kamuki-sama's indiscretion with the reidoku – but that was at the behest of Shouichi-dono's Endou and with the help of other scientific experts. I don't believe the Shihouin themselves are good at developing new chemicals. They simply use the ones others have put together before them."
"Meaning Ribari wasn't killed by Shihouin poison?" Guren demanded. "When we have something like this put in front of us?"
"You're thinking of Senaya-sama." Futsuki said lightly. "But the truth is, we don't know. If someone put the poison in the hands of the Shihouin, maybe they used it and killed your Lord son. But we have no evidence of that. There has been no report of Shihouin the night Ribari-sama died. This case and the stable yard – perhaps we can connect them. But Ribari-sama's death…remains a mystery."
"Surely it must be connected?" Guren exclaimed, and Futsuki could see that anger and frustration bubbling once more beneath the surface. "Why else would all of this be happening – what kind of coincidence sees six people dead and an attempt on my life in a short period? Not to mention…not to mention…"
He faltered, but Futsuki knew the rest of the sentence left unspoken.
"Not to mention Shirogane being driven from his home under suspicion of treason." He said softly. Guren sighed, nodding his head.
"Yes."
"You're not convinced of his guilt, are you?"
"No. But I believe Seiren must have a chance to prove his case. And that all the angles must be investigated fully." Guren responded. "I just hope he's found soon, before he gets himself hurt or into greater trouble."
"I also." Futsuki acknowledged. "But for the time being, we have to focus on the matters right in front of us. Including this Shihouin boy. Regarding your question about poison - his vital signs all seem steady and normal. He let us touch him and loosen his clothing to check for hidden knives without even a murmur, so I was able to make sure of his pulse and breathing at the same time. His hands aren't waxy and there's no sign of tremors or sweats – his eyes are blank but clear of anything suggesting intoxication, and he has good colour in his gums and eyelids. He doesn't seem particularly stressed by the experience, either, since his heart is keeping a steady, even beat. We haven't had to chain or restrain him – he's not in any mood to get free."
"But if I was to step inside that cage, probably he'd try to kill me again, wouldn't he?" Guren said softly. "While my guard was down. Because that's his order. If he's not drugged, that means this must be another skill of that Clan, surely? The rigid training of a Shihouin killer normally means they will endure whatever they need to in order to get the job done, and sacrifice their life as if it were nothing at all. Since I'm not yet dead, he's probably still in the middle of carrying out his duty. And so he'll do what he can to take us off guard."
"I had thought of that." Futsuki agreed. "But the truth is, I'm not sure. I can't speak for his mental function and I don't know if this is some sophisticated act on his part or what it is. But if he was able to attack you with as much intent as you reported – and then sit quiet as a mouse while guards are all around him…if it is an act, it has a level of sophistication far outreaching anything I've ever encountered in all my years working in your name. I've interrogated many people, and I've seen a lot of attempts at deception and trickery. But if that's what this is…Guren, it has me beaten. I can't explain it at all."
"Me either, I think." Guren rubbed his temples. "I realise that one like this could have killed my son, even using an unknown poison to knock my shinigami out beforehand. Perhaps even this one did do something like that that night. Yet it feels somehow wrong. I was attacked by a Shihouin boy today, Futsuki. There's no doubt about what we have confined here in this cell. But…even though I know that…it's all wrong."
Futsuki was silent for a moment, then,
"Do you think this was the Shihouin that girl saw slaughter his way through the stable yard?"
"Yes." Guren nodded, sliding his hand into his obi and producing the black-bladed sword. Futsuki's eyes darkened and he took it in his hands, turning it over as he examined it for a manufacturer's mark.
"This was his weapon? I wondered what had become of it when he was brought down here unarmed."
"That was what he wielded at me." Guren confirmed. "But he didn't seem too worried when I knocked it out of his grip. Bare hands were just as good, judging by the way he went for my throat."
"I see." Futsuki squinted more closely at the hilt of the knife, then, "But this is from…"
"District Eight. Just as those other knives were. From the same forge, I believe – but not of Clan quality." Guren said quietly. "And there's something else, too. It didn't really mean anything to me at the time and I discarded it but now I find myself remembering with startling clarity. Mitsuki said that she didn't sense any reiatsu from the one who killed those men in the stable yard, did she?"
"That's right." Futsuki started, staring at his brother in surprise.
"But Mitsuki is sensitive. She knew that people of low spiritual calibre were being murdered and quickly enough to get on scene not long after the perpetrator left it." Guren said softly. "She didn't sense the killer's presence, only the presence of their victims. We might not sense a Shihouin who's skilled at concealing reiatsu – but I've heard that healers have an extra awareness for things like that. When I thought about it, it frightened me a little bit. Because without a doubt, when this one appeared to me today, I felt nothing before he appeared. Despite his Clan blood, this boy…"
He paused, turning back to the cage.
"He has no spiritual aura at all."
"I thought that too." Futsuki admitted. "My awareness isn't as good as yours is by a long way, but even I can tell that he's not normal. I don't believe a chemical exists to suppress natural reiatsu to a base level – but this is a Clan child. He should have at least some. To have none is…as though he were taken from the heart of Rukongai's spiritless dead."
"Precisely." Guren agreed. "It's just like that. Like one of those plus souls we shinigami send there from the Real World…certainly not the kind of soul who you'd expect turn up in a spirit-enriched Seireitei."
"This whole business makes no sense." Futsuki muttered. "From Ribari-sama's death, to the stables, to Shirogane's flight and now this. I don't know what we're dealing with, but it worries me that it's a lot more widespread than just a Kuchiki matter."
"Mm." Guren nodded his head slowly. "And I intend on taking it before the Council when I return there in a few days. More specifically, I intend to ask the Shadow Cat about this black-clad killer and see whether she claims him. Maybe she does or doesn't know about this poison, but this is her kinsman either way. I had believed Midori-dono to be different from the Shihouin heads of previous years, but perhaps I was wrong to feel that way. I'm fairly sure he's pure-blooded Shihouin, which suggests someone with power deployed him."
"Someone with power." Futsuki reflected. "But not necessarily a Shihouin."
"I see." Guren's eyes narrowed. "You don't think it's as simple as that, then?"
"Not for a moment." Futsuki shook his head. "For the reason that it's too obvious, too contrived. I don't know who this boy is or who sent him to attack you. But I do think it's more complicated than a Shihouin assassin's plot. Senaya-sama died because of Shihouin assassins, didn't he? I remember the chaos as clearly as I'm sure you do. Therefore the enemy most obvious to a Kuchiki is a Shihouin. For a Clan of stealth experts, too, the Shadow Clan has a history of being scapegoated. Kamuki-sama's affair was one instance of it. He was undoubtedly used and his Clan exploited for the benefit of the Endou – we just didn't realise the full scale of the matter till later on."
"That's true." Guren acknowledged. "If that evidence had come to light, Kamuki-dono might not have been put to death. At least, he might have followed his brother's example and survived under house arrest. Having a reputation as killers in the night means that they're vulnerable to others playing on that reputation."
"And so are Clans like ours who have a recent history of involvement with that family's dark side."
"You believe someone gave us what they thought we'd be looking for?" Guren's expression became grave. "I'm not sure. It could be a double-bluff – acting in plain sight – I don't know. A pure-blooded Shihouin assassin normally only works for the Head of the Clan and nobody else. Their pride is such that they'll only spill blood in the name of the Shihouin, often to the detriment of their own lives. Those are the values drummed into them from infancy – there's no way a Clan Shihouin would take orders from anyone else."
"Such as Shirogane?" Futsuki asked, and Guren flinched, shrugging his shoulders.
"Blaming the Shihouin would be more palatable than blaming a kinsman." He acknowledged ruefully. "Particularly one of whom I am so fond. Seiren's witness is now corroborated. We have a Shihouin with weaponry matching the Shihouin she saw killing in the stable yard. Therefore the rest of her story is something we can't so easily dismiss. I will need to speak to her directly – have her identify this boy, if I can, and then question her more closely on her encounter with my errant nephew."
"Oh yes. Nanaki-hime." Futsuki's brows drew together. "That's another thing."
"Another thing?"
"She's no longer in the chamber you assigned for her. When the guards hurried to follow your orders, she disappeared."
"Kidnapped?" Guren demanded. "Or escaped?"
"I don't know." Futsuki grimaced. "Either one is possible. This gold-eyed demon boy might have been sent as a decoy for her to be taken or for her to slip our care. I can't read her motives – and I've found it hard to get any kind of information on her family."
"The crest she carried is a Kyouraku crest." Guren reflected. "And it does connect to the highest level of that family. She has inside knowledge of that Clan's civil unrest – and she is certainly better educated than most serving maids. But she doesn't look particularly Kyouraku, does she? Not that there is a typical appearance in District Eight's Clan but…they rarely ever have eyes as blue as that."
"Vivid blue." Futsuki agreed. "Yes. I agree. However it's not impossible. I haven't managed to confirm or dispute what she told us about her heritage. Sadehira-dono did die in the civil dispute and she does seem to know a lot about that matter – more than someone with a disconnected interest, I'd say. It's more likely information she's received either through her own involvement or from those immediately around her. In both cases, it helps support her claim. Also…whilst it's an unconfirmed rumour and speculation, I have heard it said before that Matsuhara-sama killed his first wife not long before he gave up using his sword completely. The circumstances I don't know – but a girl of that age would surely only know about such a thing if it was linked to her in some way. When Matsuhara died, she couldn't have been more than a babe in arms – three or four at the most."
His gaze flitted back to the prisoner.
"I don't know if he's listening to us. If he is, he's not reacting." He said softly. "But we should take this conversation to your study, just in case."
"Yes. Probably." Guren nodded. "I had hoped to get something out of the boy – but it doesn't look like that's possible."
"I believe he may be mute." Futsuki responded. "Even those who pretend not to be able to speak are hard pressed not to give some sound when dropped or shoved around the way he was. We manhandled him quite roughly when we searched him for other weapons – but he didn't make a sound. He doesn't have any obvious injuries to his throat from outside – so it's possible he was born without the ability for speech."
"Making him the perfect attacker, since he can't betray his comrades." Guren knelt down before the steel bars, putting his hands against the metal and staring at the prisoner with a heavy sigh. "Our time is wasted here. Keep a twenty four hour guard on him, Futsuki – make sure he's never left to himself and observe discreetly the way in which he behaves. Any slip in this behaviour, I want to know about it. And also what the physicians find when they examine him. They have my permission to do whatever tests they like so long as they do not kill him."
"You don't intend to kill him?" Futsuki was surprised. Guren shrugged.
"If he was the one who killed my son, I will kill him." He agreed flatly. "But at the moment he's our only lead. If he's useful to someone, they will come to get him. They've been several steps ahead so far, and so I'm sure sending him here like this had a purpose, too. I'd like to see if we can find out what it is."
"I see. Very well." Futsuki nodded, turning to gesture to one of the soldiers who had stood respectfully out of earshot whilst the two men had been discussing their captive. At once the soldier bowed, hurrying forward, and Futsuki explained his orders in low tones. The man saluted, then disappeared to find reinforcements, and Guren sighed.
"I feel better now I am in control of the situation again." He admitted sheepishly. "I wonder what that says about me. Kinnya-ojisama used to say that you can't control everything in this life – Father used to say that control was simply sleight of hand. I never discovered which of them was right – but I never like a situation that's out of my control."
"You and Seiren both have that in common." Futsuki reflected, and Guren smiled ruefully.
"We do." He agreed. "It's one reason why we didn't get along so well as boys."
He sighed again, rubbing his brow.
"One other thing, Futsuki. I want to keep Seiren as much out of this as I can, since I know he'll only point fingers at Shirogane even more. For now, I don't need to deal with that – not before I go to the Council and demand answers. But I would like to know what became of Nanaki-hime. I will ask Tokutarou about her too, I think – so keep your enquiries going. We'll see if the two sets of information tally at the end."
"Do you suspect the Kyouraku, now, too?" Futsuki was alarmed, but Guren shook his head.
"I want their cooperation, since the weapons came from that land." He said simply. "I won't be making accusations of any kind, don't worry. It is most likely that whoever is behind these attacks has been using District Eight in some respect to gather supplies – but that doesn't mean the Clan there know about it. I will just…bring it to their attention by asking whether their Lord has a cousin by the name of Nanaki."
"I see." Futsuki's face cleared. "I'm sorry. After this many years, I should trust your judgement more easily, shouldn't I?"
"Well, doubting and worrying is a big brother's duty, isn't it?" Guren rested his hand briefly on Futsuki's shoulder. "Thank you, Futsuki. With you at least I can be honest about my fears and my feelings. I understand a little better why my Father kept you around Seiren and I as we grew up. His faith in you was justified – even as his step-son, you haven't let him down."
"I have a debt I choose to repay." Futsuki's eyes became sombre. "For his kindness and acceptance and yours as well. Don't worry, Guren. I'll keep investigating and I'll find out what I can. Hopefully by the time Seiren brings Shirogane home, I'll have a good amount of evidence to plead his case."
Guren looked surprised for a moment, then he let out a low chuckle.
"You do have a tendency to see right through to my deepest motives." He murmured. "Very well. I won't hide them. If Shirogane is guilty, I won't forgive him. But whilst there's room for doubt, I will believe in him. I lost Ribari, but Masane entrusted Shirogane to me and he is like my son as well. I will believe in that son and pray he doesn't let me down."