Unknown No More
by Rei ^death^ Himura
Disclaimer: Characters and lyrics belong to their respective owners: Nobuyuki Anzai and Nelly Furtado.
***
It's getting so lonely inside this bed Don't know if I should lick my wounds or say woe is me instead There's an aching inside my head It's telling me I'm better off alone But after midnight, morning will come And the day will see if you will get some ~ Turn off the Lights by Nelly Furtado"You know him?" Carly gaped, watching the scene between friend and stranger. At least she thought it was a stranger. She saw Skye's face pale slightly and then a mask of feigned ignorance being slipped on. Wait, did he say something about Kirisawa?
Without turning to face her, Skye or Kirisawa as we all know, asked her partner to meet her back at the station at 1700 hours. Present time check: 1245. There was a little protest from the younger female but the sharp glare that suddenly came her way had her scuttling off in a hurry. Fuuko turned back to glare (and glower) at Mikagami.
"How did you find me?" It was so much as a command, as it were a simple and seemingly harmless question. Mikagami merely smirked, a coolly confidant expression that belied nothing of what he truly thought and felt at the moment.
"There is this phrase Kirisawa; you can run, but you cannot hide."
"And then there's this other phrase: Burning all my bridges." They eyed each other, both noting the difference that had come across each individual. Mikagami in a smart and straight cut black Armani suit, his silky mane of silvery white hair gleaming as it trailed down his back, pulled back into its customary ponytail. His facial features hadn't changed so much. Age had made him appear much more masculine than feminine, thus effectively making a woman swoon when she was within a two foot radius of him.
Fuuko, on the other hand, had changed visibly. The length and style of her hair had changed. Her attire still seemed to be on the manly side, but there were feminine touches and effort made here and there. The stance she'd taken was casual, one arm upon a hip covered by a checkered long-sleeved shirt that had been tied haphazardly on her waist whilst the other lay akimbo; one eyebrow was raised accusatorily in question. Mikagami merely had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his suit, eyeing her skeptically before they began the second round of blame, insults and accusations.
"What do you want?"
"Just informing you that I'll be with you on your next case." He started to walk away but stopped short when a hand grasped the sleeve of his suit. He turned, Fuuko's face shadowed by the long and heavyset bangs that she still sported.
"You didn't answer my question." Smirking, Mikagami extricated himself from Fuuko's grasp.
"You don't run away from old lovers too easily." And he left.
*
Fucking bastard. What the hell was he doing in New York? Or in this continent for the matter?
Fuuko stormed about in her apartment. She'd detoured back to the headquarters and confronted Fabel. The man couldn't do much he'd claimed. The Japan government had a dangerous convict being held court on American soil. He had accidentally let slip that one of his detectives was a native from the land and offered her services to the government. In the meantime, they'd send one of their own along to help.
"How coincidental." She spat out bitterly and slumped onto her leather couch, one hand gripping her beer can with sudden ferocity that one would fear it break and explode if pushed further to its limits. At the exact moment when the can should have skyrocketed to her ceiling, the doorbell rang. Grunting and cursing, Fuuko got up and yanked the door open, ready to scream profanities at the person who stood on the other side. Her lips stopped short of uttering a word when she saw Carly; confused, she let her partner in.
"Er... I said 1700, not," Fuuko glanced at her Euro clock plastered to the wall. "Not even 1500." Carly glanced at her, a look cold and utterly uncharacteristics.
"You lied to me."
"Oh for God's sakes. How could I possibly even lie to you?"
"Your name. Your not Skye Sakazaki are you?" Fuuko looked away.
"No. But it doesn't matter does it? It's just a name."
"A partnership is based on trust and honesty." Fuuko laughed bitterly and flung the beer can in the direction of her kitchen. She didn't hear it crash against the smooth formica of the cupboard.
"You've known me for only seven months and you think I have every right to tell every little detail of my life? I am not a person's property. I do not answer to anyone. Correction: I don't need anyone. Sorry to be the one to break it to you Carly, but you're too fucking naive." Another laughed and the dark-haired beauty retreated to her couch, her face dark and broody. She'd touch a raw nerve, Carly mused. She stepped forward, but was halted a slender arm.
"Please... just leave me."
"I'm sorry..." She didn't know what to call her. By the real name? Or the given alias that she'd known for those two hundred and ten days? She banked on the alias given, thinking it was even safer territory. Fuuko filed away her doubt.
"Kirisawa."
"Huh?"
"My real name is Fuuko Kirisawa. I didn't grow up in the States as presumably stated in my profile. I was born and raised in Sapporo, Japan. I went to elementary and then high school there. Apparently in my first year of university, I decided to high-tail it and come to the States. I filled in work initially as a precinct rookie, but I had my first taste of the detective work of a homicide specialist after the Krennburg case. A few years of slogging hell, here I am. Where I've always wanted to be." Silence. Carly nodded her head, unsure how else to react yet understanding that Fuuko had filled in the gap that lacked in their partnership.
You tell all. You know all. You bond together after that. Why else do partners sometimes stay together even after a decade? Never tired of seeing each other's face, always being there for one another. Carly smiled and then vanished to Fuuko's kitchen, the latter merely sat there, head cradled in the palms of her hands. Silently lamenting the twisted turn her life had suddenly taken.
Carly emerged a while later, grinning and thrusted a beer can in Fuuko's hand.
"To renewed partnership. To a dumb and naive blond for a partner. And to a kick-ass detective from Japan." It made Fuuko smile. Really, it sounded lame and corny... yet so right.
"You're not dumb. Just naive. We could rectify that." Carly sighed dramatically.
"That's what partners are for I guess." She sobered and lowered her can.
"Is it safe to broach the topic of the perfect male specimen earlier today?" Fuuko got up and paced the room, walked over to the balcony and leaned on the railing. A slow breeze toyed with the stray tendrils of violet hair that had escaped her braid. Her apartment overlooked the Central Park and she watched couples milling about and the sound of voices and laughter intermingling with one another.
"Just a bad reminder from my past."
"Oh." They'd leave it at that.
*
He found her. He couldn't believe it, but after five fucking years of turning stones and earth, he'd finally found her. Oh yeah right, burned her bridges. You don't burn your bridge with Tokiya Mikagami. You wouldn't even dare. But she'd gone and do it didn't she? And it was all his fault.
He drove her away.
Five years.
And it was just a stupid fling too.
It wasn't even his fault. He was waylaid and ambushed by an ardent admirer and things got out of hand. He was male, or did she forgot. Yet he couldn't help blaming himself that for that brief moment of time, he'd lost the calm control he was so proud of having.
Fool...
In the other room, his companion cursed when his toe hit the bedpost. A young adolescent with rueful chocolate-brown eyes and unruly hair that couldn't be tamed even with the fiercest of hair gel and mousse. Kaoru Koganei let out a sharp yelp and then cursed in an undertone. Mikagami-niichan would berate him for that and then Yanagi-neechan would be told and oh brother, it'd be one long lecture on the use of proper words and all that rubbish.
"Dammit!" He flopped down onto the bed, still furious at being dragged from his comfortable dormitory in Osaka and yanked along with niichan to America. Sure he'd get to see a whole load of American chicks and understand the function of the judiciary system as he helped Mikagmi-niichan as his assistant. But couldn't that man at least have waited till after his graduation?
He sighed and leaned forward to unlace his sneakers. His thoughts strayed to the adopted brother who moped outside in the living room of their paid-for apartment. Fuuko was here. And that news irritated the hell out of Mikagami. He knew that five years before they were very chummy: spending time with each other after classes, going out for movies and dinner. She stayed over at his house a lot that even Ganko-chan complained that she was being ignored.
"Heh... lovers in love." He bent forward to untie his laces, thoughts still stuck on the duo. When was it that everything changed? Was it with the exchange student from Canada? She sure was hanging around with niichan a lot. Of course, Fuuko was with them most of the time as well. They hit it off as a closely-knitted group of friends.
He paused. Yet wasn't it exactly because of that? The girl, what was her name again? Anna? Yeah. She was demanding a lot of niichan's time; always asking him to bring her places. Educational purposes she'd said, yet he'd heard from the rest that niichan had actually brought her out on a date, or dates. Then there was that night and bwam, Fuuko left.
Fuuko... he never called her neechan. Of course, there were many reasons to that. He saw her as a goddess, a warrior princess, a woman who'd never backed down even if the odds were against her. She was vibrant, lively and always there should you need a shoulder to lean on. She was his mentor strange as it sounded, in Geography. Thanks to her, he'd gained an impossibly good grade. He liked her, no. He loved her. It was wrong he knew, but how could one not love such an exuisite angel?
And it was niichan's fault he drove her away.
He'd dreamed of being the one to console her, to have her lay her head upon his shoulder, have him soothe and comfort her. Did it matter that she was three years older? What did age matter anyway? Niichan did a bad job of taking care of her, so now it was his turn. He'd keep Fuuko with him, he'd never let her go.
