It wasn't the worst fight Vanitas had returned from.
For the sake of pretence, he retreated to the chasseurs' base to bandage up his cuts and draft a report on the night's events. The report was written in his usual style, consisting strictly of facts and simple observations: he found the serial murderer attacking a woman, later discovered as his accomplice, faced both of them off which ended with the killer being taken by Lord Ruthven's bourreau, Jeanne. Leaving the papers on Olivier's desk, Vanitas headed aboveground. Despite all the hassle, the sun has yet to make an appearance when he emerged from the catacombs. He had brought his cloak along anyway, determined to keep himself warm before the dawn breaks.
He had little time left before the other chasseurs make their move. The woman would have been taken to interrogation by now, starting with basic questions regarding the identity of the serial killer and her relationship with him. It would probably take an hour or two for them to sort things out with the vampires and the human police, and another before they gathered a team to erase traces of supernatural involvement to declare a closed case. In other words, he needed to act right away if he wanted a chance in figuring out what was hidden behind.
"Baldy!" Vanitas stormed into the restaurant where they regularly meet up, only to find his information broker pouring himself another glass of wine. "Did that wine tell you the Hellfire Witch is in town?"
"Geesh, chill. I only found out a minute or two before you did." Dante sipped from his drink, unaffected by his attitude. "So? I take it she didn't blast you into ashes?"
"Not this time." Vanitas pulled a chair to sit across him, frowning at the empty bottles already sitting on the table. Being in no mood for small talks, he got to the point right away. "Before you pass out, address of the serial killer. Now."
"Knew you'd be asking." Without sparing him another look, Dante flashed him a piece of paper but held on to it when he tried to take it from him.
Vanitas stared at his flushed face, considering his options. The agreement was that he either pay for it or provide intel in exchange. Most of the time he would supply harmless gossips, or something he was sure Dante would hear from his other sources sooner or later. However, there was not much he could tell without betraying the chasseurs, so he usually ended up paying for his meals.
"Roland will be sitting as Jasper."
"And?" Dante prompted, dissatisfied with his bargaining chip.
"And they wanted to promote me but I refused?" Vanitas tried again, his hope building up as Dante let go.
"Just pay up, I'll settle for a drink for this one." Certain he would not be providing useful information, Dante decided to do both of them a favour by finalising the deal. Vanitas cursed under his breath.
"Go drink yourself drunk." He pocketed the note and threw Dante some coins, proceeding to take his leave.
"Hey, brother." Dante called from his seat, the religious term that he wouldn't stop using to tease him sent goosebumps down Vanitas' spine. Vanitas turned to give him grief but held his remarks, noticing Dante's expression. "Here's a friendly tip: beware of Gano and his gang."
"I know." He smirked, walking out of the diner.
Though Vanitas never had interest in chasseur politics, he was not blind nor stupid. There was a fraction of them - a whole team of them, to be exact - who was hostile to Olivier, Roland and him. When word got out that Roland was going to rise in ranks again, they have been whining about it nonstop. A person like Roland would definitely be inconvenient for the extremists, those who advocate starting a war with the vampires. Vanitas, ever since he worked with Roland to put a stop to Dr. Moreau and his inhumane experiments, has been considered enemy. Now that Roland was about to stand as one of the twelve palatins, hopefully the balance of power would even out a bit.
He skimmed the note Dante had given him, then tore it to shreds. What he was about to do, if discovered, would probably bring him down for good. Despite this, the number of incidents was abnormally high that he couldn't help but suspect something was happening in the shadows. Was it Moreau making a comeback? He practically vanished after being casted away from the chasseurs, there was no reason for him to stir the pot at this moment. Was it Gano plotting his long-desired war? Vanitas doubted those bunch of losers have the ability to cook up something this big.
There's only one way to find out.
Vanitas followed the Seine to the eighth arrondissement of the capital, racing against time to get to the murderer's nest. What he would find there and whether the findings would be useful, he had absolutely no idea. He was acting solely on instinct, which was telling him to poke until the truth surfaces.
He arrived in front of an ordinary residential building, the front gate unlocked so he could access the stairs without delay. Vanitas quietly made his way up and stopped at the door, reaching for the set of tools he had brought along. His rough upbringing has contributed to a number of unusual skills up his sleeves, lockpicking being one of them. With the right tools in hand, it took him merely minutes before the lock kicked and gave away. He turned the knob, triumph showing evidently on his face in the form of a smug smile.
But then the smile faded, to the fact that a hand was around his throat, gradually applying pressure.
He found himself gazing into a pair of amber eyes slowly tainted by a hint of red.
And there he was, thinking he had escaped the Hellfire Witch in one piece. What were the chances of running into her twice within the night?
Vanitas dropped his tools to free his hand, preparing for a possible fight.
"What are you doing here, human?" Her eyes, now fully crimson, seemed to bore into his soul. She was still wearing the same outfit Vanitas saw her in a few hours ago, their cloaks finally matching. On the other hand, she appeared to have left her gauntlet somewhere else, for this he was grateful.
Vanitas sucked in a deep breath, testing how serious she was at strangling him. He could feel the threat alright, but judging from the fact that he could still breathe freely, he would say his chance at survival was considerably high.
"To see you?" He flashed her one of his cocky smiles, set on doing this his way. "I mean, we didn't really have the leisure for introductions last time we met."
She appeared taken aback, unsure how to react, so Vanitas benefited from it. He placed his hand on hers, his head going through different scenarios, trying to pick one where she loosens her grip.
"I am Vanitas and I am, as you have noticed, an average human being."
Author's notes:
Hello there! Thank you for staying with me until chapter 3. This is actually my first fanfic posted online, I hope things are okay so far.
Comments and thoughts will be appreciated! As English is not my first language, please do let me know if I messed something up.
As mentioned in the summary this is basically a story of what if Vanitas did not get abducted by Dr. Moreau and continued as a chasseur; what if he met Jeanne who was still working as a bourreau. You might have noticed but here's some settings which is different from canon:
Jeanne, in this story, is still growing her hair out when she meets Vanitas. She is not working for Luca yet.
Roland is not yet a captain, he is vice-captain of Olivier's team. (And Vanitas is under their team)
I will update irregularly (hopefully at least weekly, or bi-weekly…). You can find me on Twitter Sherry_KK :D