Revised July 04, 2993
Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic
Rurouni Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version © N.Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment
All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me) were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale.
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A Meiji Murder
by Chiruken
Chapter 3~1880~
With a sigh I lean against the wall, ignoring the curious looks the other police officers are sending my way. I fold my arms over my chest and scowl as I stare down at the floor. "Body dismembered and head painstakingly severed, the parts tossed around the room in seemingly careless abandon. Why?" I wave my hand in irritation, dispelling the cigarette smoke lingering in front of my face as I run through the sketchy facts we have at our disposal. "His tongue cut out and removed from the scene." I make a sound of disgust, grimacing with aversion. "We're obviously dealing with an individual with a very sick mind."
Saito grunts his acknowledgement of my brief assessment. "With a grudge against Akagawa Souseiki, don't forget." With another sigh, I close my hands into fists at my sides briefly and unclench them again before I look up at Saito to see that he's frowning down at me thoughtfully. "All parts found and accounted for…except for his tongue. Why is that do you think?"
I shake my head with a frown, just as puzzled by this apparent inconsistency as he evidently is. "There's obviously a clear message behind this being directed at someone specific. The question is, who? And why? And what is the message?" I can feel the beginnings of a headache forming in my temples and reach up to press my fingers against the dull ache in an attempt to relieve the pressure.
Looking away from me to the wall across from us he shrugs and draws deeply on his cigarette before replying. "There's also the unaccountable excess of blood. There's a body out there…" He gestures towards the open windows across the room. "Missing its blood." I nod slowly in full agreement, dropping my hand to my side again. "A double murder with only one body. What a nightmare." There's an almost imperceptible weariness in his tone that I'm certain I wasn't supposed to hear. It's gratifying to have proof that Saito Hajime, once the captain of the third squad of the Shinsengumi in Kyoto during the revolution and considered to be one of the strongest fighters on the Shogunate's side, is human after all.
"Tokyo is a very large city to search for the other body, that it is." I sigh in resignation, knowing that it's going to be a very long day…and night. I know also that my nightmares are going to be filled with dismembered bodies missing their tongues and too much blood. I try to shake the odd feeling the image invokes as I feel my hair trying to stand on end, half remembered stories of vampires flitting through my mind. I mentally smack a palm to my forehead. Himura, don't be an idiot. Vampires drink blood…not leave it behind. I force my mind back to the matter at hand. "However, I believe the identity of the other victim may aid us in solving this murder." I remove my hat and rub my head in frustration, inconspicuously massaging my temples again to relieve the pain forming there with increasing force. "It's a matter of finding that other body. It could be anywhere, that it could."
"I'd say it would have to be fairly close to this one." I look at him questioningly, waiting for him to elaborate. "It would generate suspicion if someone were to wander around the city carrying one or two buckets filled with blood. Wouldn't you agree?" I wince, wondering how I could have overlooked something as obvious as that and nod slowly, pursing my lips thoughtfully as I think it over. Aside from the fact that it would have been too awkward to cart around two or more buckets of blood around the city, it would have generated too much suspicion so it does make sense that the second body would be in close proximity to Akagawa's office. I'm a little embarrassed that I didn't think of it first. I push myself away from the wall and with slow deliberate strides approach the windows. I look out, surveying the surrounding buildings and shrubs, eyes narrowed against the glare of the sunlight reflecting off the glass. Slowly I push the window open, allowing fresh air to stir the stifling heat and stagnant air of the office. The body could be hidden in plain sight for all we know. "How would you suggest we proceed, Assistant Inspector Himura?"
I glance over my shoulder at him, noting the curiosity of the other men seems to have doubled. It's blatantly clear that he didn't bother to inform them of who I am before now. I swallow my annoyance at his lack of forethought. "I would suggest searching the closest buildings for the other body, concentrating our efforts on those in closest proximity to this one, that I would." He nods his agreement and then raises an eyebrow expectantly. I frown, a little uncertain as to what I may have overlooked. The body parts are all accounted for, only the tongue missing. I doubt we'll find that here, so that can't be it. I can't see the killer being careless enough to leave his weapon behind after all the elaborate planning that clearly went into an act of such vicious malice. He crosses the room and stubs his cigarette out in an overflowing ashtray, a small puff of ash and smoke floating up in the air around to settle on the desk. "It may prove beneficial to closely search the surrounding bushes for the buckets as well." I offer the suggestion a little uncertainly. He nods slowly and waits again without replying. "Perhaps we should question his colleagues again. We may discover something useful. After all, every politician has enemies, that they do."
"Yes, I agree. However, I doubt if he'd give himself away so easily. We're obviously dealing with an individual of higher intelligence." There's an almost imperceptible note in his tone that sounds suspiciously like appreciation for our unknown foe liberally interspersed with grudging respect.
I grimace in disgust. That can't be right. He almost sounds as if he admires the unknown killer and that just doesn't make sense…Saito Hajime doesn't admire anyone. "A deviant intelligence, if you ask me. No sane individual could mastermind something this gruesomely brutal." He smirks knowingly and I groan inwardly. I can't even defend myself since we have an avid audience. Leave it to Saito to refer to my past in such a hateful way. I was an assassin, not a butcher. I scowl up at him, but keep the thought to myself.
The moment passes and he steps back, reaching inside his jacket for his cigarettes and matches again. "Perhaps. Any other observations…" I grit my teeth in irritation at the meaningful pause, the amusement in his expression unmistakable, leaving no doubt as to what he's thinking at the moment. "Assistant Inspector?" There's that insufferable smirk again.
I draw in a calming breath, pushing my annoyance aside. This is neither the time nor the place to indulge in petty squabbles. Besides…if I only bide my time and exercise some patience I'll be able to get my revenge at a later date. I place my hands behind my back and rock back on my heels, thinking hard. There was something about the scene in that office…something nagging the back of my mind…something important. But what? What could it be? Closing my eyes, I envisioned the scene again and analyzed the information available to me. An instant later my eyes snapped open. That's it! Turning to Saito I clear my throat to gain his attention. "I doubt the assassin himself would've orchestrated the scene in Akagawa's office."
He pauses in the act of lighting his cigarette and raises an eyebrow in mocking inquiry. I really hate his superior attitude and condescending expressions. "Why do you say that?"
"The killing blow was swift and professional."
"So?" He lights the cigarette, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling with casual nonchalance. I get the distinct impression that he's trying, yet again, to bait me to see if I'll snap and allow my temper to get the best of me. Insufferable jackass.
Determined to remain calm and professional, I ignore the smirk playing about his lips and focus instead on the investigation. "The rest…the dismemberment, the splattered blood…it was too…messy…to have been done by a professional assassin. An assassin would kill and be done with it. That display was more like…" I frown thoughtfully, my words trailing off as the thread of a distant memory tickles at the back of my mind, elusively dancing just out of reach as I attempt to pursue it.
"Like what?" He's looking at me curiously, lit cigarette dangling from his fingers, momentarily forgotten as he awaits my answer.
I shrug, the memory slipping away, returning to the shadowy recesses of my mind. It's frustrating, but I also know that it'll come to me when I least expect it. But Saito is still waiting for my answer, so I say the next best thing that will fit the situation. "Like a child's tantrum, so to speak."
He snorts, a humorless smile twisting his lips. "A demonic child, wouldn't you say?"
***
I almost smile at his analogy. Demonic child indeed. Instead, I shrug again and turn to look outside. The better part of the day has already passed. That's rather surprising. I suppose I was too busy thinking and trying to hold back my horror to notice the passing of time. I don't think I'm going to rest easily until this madman is found…or maybe two, if my assumptions are correct. I sigh inwardly. That's all we need…a reasonably sane professional killer partnered with an obviously insane accomplice roaming around Tokyo. "Might I suggest we begin the search for the missing body before it becomes much later? Tired minds and bodies often overlook the obvious, that they do."
He turns to the openly staring officers. "You heard Assistant Inspector Himura. Get on with it." He barks out the command and they scramble for the door with unseemly haste.
I roll my eyes and shake my head in mild disgust. I doubt if any of those junior officers is a day over twenty…if even that. "Are boys being employed in the Keishichou now, Inspector Fujita?"
He shrugs and turns back to me. "The youth are much easier to train than the experienced who are accustomed to their old ways of doing things."
I grin up at him and lean against the wall again. "Like ourselves, hmm?"
"Perhaps." He perches on the edge of the desk and stubs his cigarette out before folding his arms over his chest. "Now tell me, was there anything familiar about that scene?"
"Yes…and no." I frown, staring across the room at the closed door. "I can't remember seeing anything so…grisly…before. I have seen death in its various forms and I, myself, have been the deliverer of the killing stroke. However, there is nothing in my experience that could relate to that level of debasement."
"Your own killings weren't much cleaner, Battousai."
I scowl up at him and push away from the wall to pace around the room. "That isn't amusing, Saito. I killed my opponents…but I didn't chop them up into little pieces and toss the parts around like I was playing some gruesome form of saikoro."
"No, I suppose you didn't at that. So, what was familiar to you then?"
"Other than the recognizable killing blow?" He nods and regards me steadily. I resist the urge to fidget under his direct stare. I'm being silly, I know that. The revolution ended thirteen years ago. Anything I may say to him now about that time has no bearing on our present circumstances. "There were rumors in Kyoto, during the revolution, of a group of individuals who conducted a series of assassinations. Their methods were…controversial…and many of the patriots openly disapproved, that they did." He raises an eyebrow in silent inquiry. I could really become sick of that look. "They tormented their targets for a prolonged time…from what I heard I assume they didn't limit themselves to only killing their intended target." I frown, trying to remember more details and finally shrug. "That isn't much, I know, but they were known to leave a grisly mess after their task was complete. It may not be the same people, but it is their style from what I heard during the revolution, that it is."
"Goumonha." His lip curls in distaste. I look at him uncertainly. "The individuals you just described were known as the Goumonha. When they chose their target the torment could last up to weeks, the killings more grisly with each victim, slowly getting closer to the one they truly intended to kill."
"Kami-sama…" I breathe the word, horrified understanding dawning. "I thought they were eliminated before the end of the revolution." I should have made the connection before between the rumors I heard back then. How could I have not known the Goumonha and the renegade assassins were the same people?
"As did I. This may not be the Goumonha…it may simply be a nutcase recreating their acts."
I scrub my face tiredly, feeling much older than my thirty-one years. "Either way, this could prove to become very complicated. Very complicated indeed."
***
We turn as a brief knock sounds at the door preceding the entry of a pale, older man carrying a tray with two cups and a teapot, hands shaking in their white-knuckled grip of the tray. He silently crosses the room and sets the tray on the desk before departing, closing the door with a soft click, not one word having been exchanged. I look at Saito questioningly. "Refreshments. How considerate." I smile at his dry tone, reaching out and pouring myself a cup of the fragrant liquid. I pause, raising an eyebrow, and he nods. I pour Saito's tea and hand the cup to him, amused by the seemingly mundane and oh-so-normal act of courtesy.
I lean against the wall again and raise the cup, sipping thoughtfully. If we're dealing with the Goumonha…assuming they survived the chaos of the revolution…we can expect more scenes like the one in Akagawa's office. Unless he was their true target. It seems unlikely, though. If he was the actual target, why remove his tongue? Unless…I frown and lower my cup slowly. "Saito, from what you heard, were the Goumonha known to take…um…trophies from their victims?"
He sets his cup aside and shakes his head slowly. "Not that I know of. Why?"
I shake my head in dismissal. "It was just a passing thought, that it was." We fall silent again, the sound of the clock ticking loud in the room. So the removal of Akagawa's tongue was significant. The question is in what way? I have a feeling it's going to show up somewhere along the way…more than likely at the scene of another murder. I hope it isn't as…messy…as this one was. I don't think I could take many scenes like the one in Akagawa's office. In fact, I don't want to become accustomed to such things again. I don't want to become familiar with the scent of death ever again.
"What are you thinking, Battousai?" I blink, pushing the dark thoughts aside and try to summon a smile. His eyes narrow and he leans forward, expression hard. "Don't try that innocent rurouni act on me. It won't work. I know you too well."
I scowl at him, my irritation returning at his not so gentle probing. "You don't know anything about me, Saito, except for your skewed perceptions of the way I was thirteen years ago. People change, in case you haven't noticed."
He leans back, cold amusement glinting in his amber eyes, and chuckles. "I know you better than you know yourself, it seems. A man can't change that much. Inside of you, under that absurd mask of rurouni that you wear, is still the hitokiri of the revolution. Shall I demonstrate just how close to the surface he is?" I press my lips together in stubborn silence, my eyes narrowing with growing resentment. "No? Then at least stop lying to yourself and accept things as they are."
"You know something, Saito? You're a real obnoxious jerk." I sigh and force myself to relax, raising my cup again.
"Perhaps." His lips twist in a condescending smirk. "If I'm an obnoxious jerk, then you're an idealistic fool. Your denial of your true self isn't realistic."
"Well, maybe I like things this way." I lower the cup again and smile tightly. "I don't see how an analysis of my personality and my numerous shortcomings has any significance in relation to the murder of Akagawa Souseiki."
"If you are hindered in your investigation by you stubborn refusal to step into reality, then yes, it is significant, Battousai."
He seems to have a ready answer for everything. How irritating. "Is this murder related to the ones in the newspaper?" I think it's well past time for a change in topic. Discussing my past with Saito is the quickest way for me to lose my temper and do something to prove him right. That's the last thing I want to do.
He shakes his head, expression growing serious again. "Not even close. The other murders were simple, straightforward and random acts of violence."
"Random, huh? It seems to me that if four politicians are killed it isn't as quite as 'random' as you're implying."
"Possibly, but, unlike Akagawa, they weren't chopped up into little pieces." I grimace at the reminder and nod, accepting his assurance. If Saito doesn't believe they're related, then they probably aren't.
I glance out the window and watch as the sun slowly sinks below the horizon. Kami-sama but this is turning into a hellishly long day…and it isn't over yet. We still have to find that other body.
***
I come awake with a start, half drawing my sakabatou before my surroundings register in my sleep-fogged mind. Kuso…that was careless of me. Falling asleep with Saito so close is probably the least intelligent thing I've done in a very long time and closer to suicide than I'm comfortable with being. "Inspector Fujita, we found it!" I blink and stand slowly, watching the junior officer come bounding into the room. It's Tanaka, I think. I glance at the clock and stifle a groan. The nearest that I can tell, I slept for close to three hours. I'm fortunate that Saito isn't interested in settling things between us at the moment. I'll have to use more caution in the future.
"Where?" He pushes away from the wall he was leaning against, glancing at me with another of those irritating smirks.
I turn my back on him and watch as a flush creeps into Tanaka's face, his expression growing sheepish. "The cellar, Sir."
"Cellar? Which cellar?" I step forward, drawing his attention. He blinks in surprise as I move out of the shadows. I feel a surge of exasperation, but maintain a carefully blank expression. Someone ought to teach these boys to be more alert. I think I'll mention it to Saito later. At this rate, if they're all as inattentive as Tanaka, none of the junior officers will live long enough to reach a senior ranking.
His eyes slide past me to Saito questioningly before resting on me again. He clears his throat before replying. "The cellar in this building." I raise an eyebrow when he neglects to acknowledge my rank. Interesting. Mutiny in the ranks already. I shrug inwardly. Now isn't the time to press the issue.
Instead, I turn to Saito with a sheepish look of my own. "I should have realized."
"That is all, Tanaka. The Assistant Inspector and I will be along momentarily."
"Yes, Sir." I watch as he executes a smart salute, glances at me resentfully, and turns on his heel.
After the door closes with a soft thump, the room falls silent save for the ticking of the clock. "You undermine your own authority. You should have reprimanded him immediately for his neglect of courtesy and his disrespectful attitude. How do you expect to command the officers in our division with this mind-set?"
I shrug and tug the hem of my jacket straight. "I have no experience in such things, Saito. I'm learning as I go, so to speak. Besides, it was neither the time nor the place." I scowl at him irritably. "You're partly to blame, too, you know."
"How so?" He folds his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow mockingly.
"To begin with, none of those boys has any idea of who I am, Saito."
He shrugs and moves towards the door. "What did you mean?" I frown uncertainly. "You said you should've realized, implying something was overlooked. What was it?"
"Oh, that. The scent of blood when we first arrived. It was too strong outside of Akagawa's office to have simply been emanating from there, that it was."
He nods slowly and opens the door. "I thought as much myself." He halts before stepping through and turns back to me abruptly, closing the door again. I look up at him in surprise. "Try to conduct yourself in a manner befitting a man in your position, Battousai."
"What do you mean by that?" I frown, puzzled by his odd jumping from topic to topic. Sometimes Saito can be very confusing.
"You are no longer the rurouni, so stop acting like a simpleton."
For a moment, I'm speechless with outrage. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"If you continue as you are now, you will never gain the respect needed for a man in your position. No one will take you seriously." I flush angrily as his eyes move over me disparagingly and his lips twist into a contemptuous smirk. "Your looks and attitude are equally to blame."
"What's wrong with the way I look?" I rest my hand on the hilt of my sakabatou and narrow my eyes as my irritation expands into genuine anger.
"Apart from the fact that you have the appearance of a child?"
"Fine. I'm short. Big deal. It has never stopped me from getting things done in the past." I honesty believed he was above such juvenile ridicule. I'm a little disappointed.
He nods as if satisfied. By what, I have no idea. "Much better. Let's go."
I press my lips together and resist the urge to hit him over the head with my saya…hard. "Aggravating, obnoxious jerk." I mutter it as I follow him out the door. Was he trying to make me angry? If so, he succeeded admirably.
***
**To Be Continued…**
Definitions:
Saikoro: dice game
Goumonha: Torture Group
Sakabatou: reverse-blade sword
Kuso: damn it!; feces; shit!
Battousai: nickname roughly meaning "sword-drawer"
Rurouni: wandering ronin
Ronin: masterless samurai
Saya: sheath; scabbard
