Disclaimer: Characters from PoT were created by Konomi Takeshi, etc., etc. You know the rest.
Here's Chapter Five -- a little behind schedule. (Gomen nasai!) There might not be any updates for a while, but if all goes well I'll be back within a fortnight. As with the previous two chapters, this one is rather coarse around the edges and will probably be revised if I get the chance to do so.
The headlines in the Rokkaku Shimbun are meant as teasers for future cases, crime scenes, victims and suspects. (It's not a comprehensive list, of course -- I intend to feature all PoT teams and players at some point or another.)
Chapter V: Making Acquaintances
The glass doors of the lounge were closed. Ryoma reached out to turn the knob, but he hesitated as the sound of raised voices blew out into the corridor. A couple of passers-by heard the noise and paused for a moment to see what the fracas was all about.
"I say, what's going on in there?" one of them asked the other.
"Hmm, sounds like Lieutenant Kikumaru and Burger Boy are at it again."
"At what again, exactly?"
"Turtle wrestling. The lieutenant randomly selects two of his pet turtles and puts them in an aquarium, then he and Momo-chan watch to see which of them manages to overturn the other. Ten hamburgers on each, winner takes all. Not a very exciting sport if you ask me, but Kikumaru-san feels sorry for his little babies if they stay in the police station pond for too long with nothing to do, so he gives them a chance to stretch their legs now and then. As for Momo, well . . ."
"He'll jump at any chance to get a free meal."
"Right."
"So what's the record like?"
"A tie or thereabouts, probably. I wonder who'll win this time . . ."
Trying not to make any noise, Ryoma quietly slipped into the lounge and pushed the door closed behind him. There were just two people in the room, both of whom were huddled over a large glass box that had been placed on the large central table. One of them was the man Captain Tachibana had called Momoshiro. The other didn't look at all familiar -- light build; dark, rather longish auburn hair; a small white plaster on his right cheek. After seeing the badge of a senior officer on the man's coat, Ryoma decided that this must be Lieutenant Kikumaru.
"Ha! Looks like I'll be laughing all the way to the burger bank today, Kikumaru-san," Momo said confidently. "Your puny little turtle couldn't possibly beat mine."
"Unya! We haven't lost yet!" The lieutenant pressed his face against the glass wall of the aquarium. "That's it! Right there! Push him over! Just because your opponent is big doesn't mean you should be scared!"
The larger turtle managed to climb up onto the shell of its much smaller adversary, pinning it down. But with an incredible burst of strength, the little turtle reared up on its forelegs and flipped the other one over, rendering it completely helpless. No matter how hard its stubby legs flailed in the air, it couldn't right itself again.
"Hoi hoi! The little one prevails!" Eiji exclaimed triumphantly, punching the air with a clenched fist. He picked up the winning turtle and gently stroked its tiny head. "Well done, little fella! I knew you could do it."
"Durrr . . .," Momo growled, slamming the table with his fist. He turned upon the larger turtle and bellowed: "Oi, how could you let that pipsqueak John get the better of you? He was half your size!"
"Actually, this little fellow is Taro. That's John. And don't talk like that to the poor turtle, nya!"
Momo looked at the pile of hamburgers in front of him, sighed, and pushed the lot towards Eiji.
"Nya, Momo! I can't finish all this by myself." He plucked a burger from the top and moved the rest -- including those from his own stack -- towards Momo. "Here. You can have them."
"Really?" Without bothering to wait for an affirmatory response, Momo shouted "Itadakimasu!" as he tore the wrapper off a sandwich and took an enormous bite out of it.
"Uh, you're welcome. Add that to the ones I bought for you earlier today, and that makes, oh, twenty-nine hamburgers in all."
Momo tried to smile, which was a difficult thing to do for someone whose mouth was practically filled to bursting with half-chewed beef and soggy bread. "Mmf . . ." Swallow. "Oh yeah, thanks, Eiji-senpai." He immediately wolfed down the remains of the burger and moved to the next without pause.
"Same old Momo," Eiji whispered, shaking his head as he sat down to read the latest issue of the Rokkaku Shimbun. As was his custom, the lieutenant skipped from one title to the next without spending more than a few seconds on a single article.
JYOUSEI SHONAN INSTITUTE ON VERGE OF COLD FUSION BREAKTHROUGH
ATOBE THEATRE OPENS FRIDAY; REAL ESTATE TYCOON'S SON EXPECTED TO ATTEND
ST. RUDOLPH'S UNIVERSITY BEGINS ACADEMIC TERM TOMORROW
'LUCKY' SENGOKU ON WINNING STREAK (AGAIN!) IN MONTE CARLO
SEIGAKU'S FATHER OOTORI CHOUTAROU HONOURED BY VATICAN
"Nya, what else is new?" He quickly flipped through the rest of the paper. "Now where is that Humour Page . . . ah, here it is."
"Still reading those bad jokes by Davide-san?" Momo said between bites. The Rokkaku Shimbun's Amane "David" Hikaru was universally reviled as Japan's worst jokesmith, though by the strange workings of the universe this made him incredibly popular.
"Yes. I can't say whether they're good or bad, actually, since they don't make any sense."
"Excuse me," Ryoma interrupted, deciding that the time was right to make his presence known. "Is there a Field Agent Momoshiro here? I was instructed by Captain Tezuka to meet him for my orientation."
The two men looked up as one at the new arrival. "Heh, I haven't seen you around here before, kiddo! Are you a police trainee, ochibi?"enquired the one with the little bandage on his cheek.
Kiddo? Ochibi? Ryoma tried to keep his voice level. "No. Full field agent. Sergeant rank. My first day. And please don't call me that."
"Call you what, ochibi?"
Momo stopped chewing and tried to speak, but couldn't put out anything intelligible. A sodden piece of bun rolled out of his open mouth and fell on the table with an audible splat.
"Chew, Momo. Chew and swallow. That's it. Now will you please get rid of that chunk of bread that just dropped out of your mouth! It's disgusting, nya!"
"Sorry, Eiji-senpai," muttered the other man as he wiped the table with a paper napkin. Turning to Ryoma, he said, "So you're the new kid, eh? Inui-san told me about you yesterday." He shovelled a heap of discarded food wrappers into a dustbin and stood up to introduce himself. "I'm Momoshiro Takeshi, but I'd prefer it if you call me Momo-chan. No point in wasting time on long names, is there?"
"Indeed."
"And this is Lieutenant Kikumaru Eiji, head field agent."
"Hoi hoi!" the cheerful officer exclaimed, waving at him from across the table.
"He's in charge of treating the other field agents to hamburgers every Friday . . ."
"Nya, Momo! That's not fair!"
"Ah, but that's the price of power, Eiji-senpai. Keep your subjects loyal by giving them free food! Anyway, let me show you arouuu . . ."
Momoshiro suddenly doubled over and clutched his stomach. A low growling noise rose out of his mouth, followed by a not-too-pleasant chorus of assorted bubbling sounds. "Aargh, I think I ate too fast . . ."
"Or too much," Eiji remarked drily. He bent down to look at Momo's rapidly greening face and said, "Unya, you don't look too good. Probably just a touch of indigestion, but I'd better take you up to the infirmary just to be sure. Will you be okay here by yourself, ochibi? We'll be back in ten minutes if all's well."
"I'll manage. And Lieutenant?"
"Hmm?"
"Please don't call me that."
Ryoma made his way towards an armchair and sat down, stretching out into a relaxed position. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the vending machine that hummed silently in the background. Next time, bring more loose change, you idiot, he cursed himself as his fingers probed empty pockets. But just as he was beginning to drift off to sleep, the young man felt something soft on his face and heard a timid voice trying to break into the quiet cocoon that fatigue had woven around him.
"Uh, anou . . ."
He opened his eyes and looked up. Sakuno was bending over him, her long red hair brushing gently against his cheek.
"I'm terribly sorry for disturbing you, E-Echizen-kun . . . that's right, isn't it? Oba- er, S-Superintendent Ryuzaki told me who you were."
"Hmm, who are you?" Ryoma asked, glancing at her uninterestedly. He tilted his head ever so slightly to get it away from the young woman's flailing locks.
"Huh?" How could he forget so soon?, Sakuno wondered. Her cheeks began to flush red again. "I, er . . . I'm the police officer you met at the station earlier today, remember? You asked me to, um, give you directions to Seigaku CSI."
"Oh!" he exclaimed in mild surprise. Then, as memory of the encounter (and the unpleasant journey that followed) crept back into view, Ryoma gave her a mildly irritated look and pulled his cap over his eyes.
"Uh, d-did you make it here on time?" she asked nervously, sweeping her hair over one shoulder. Some of it got caught on the sharp corners of her nameplate, so she removed the object and placed it on the central table.
"No. Three hours late. If it were a tennis game, I'd have defaulted."
"Oh. Did you, um, get into trouble with the captain?"
"Of course. What do you think?"
Sakuno knew only too well what it was like to get into trouble with Captain Tezuka. Trembling with remorse, the young woman stepped back and bowed deeply. "Gomen nasai!" she apologised, her voice breaking. "W-was it . . . was it because of me?"
Ryoma sat up and looked at her. "Yeah, who else?"
Not knowing what else to say, Sakuno tried to think of some way to salvage the situation.
"Uh, w-would you like to have something to drink?"
"Eh?"
Sakuno returned from the vending machine with two cans of chilled Grape Ponta. She sat down on an armchair beside the one Ryoma was using -- separated from his only by a small, glass-topped coffee table -- and wordlessly offered one of the beverage tins to him.
"Thanks." He opened it and took a few, cautious sips. His eyes remained fixed on some imaginary point in the distance.
"So, umm . . . h-how was your first day, Ryoma-kun? Did anything interesting happen to you?"
"Let me see. I got drenched in a rainstorm, was nearly crushed to death in a crowd, walked several miles through unfamiliar territory and arrived several hours late for my appointment." He said this matter-of-factly, without any trace of anger in his voice.
"Oh. I see. I-I'm really sorry about all this . . ."
Ryoma shrugged. "I've been through worse."
They spent the next few minutes engaged in small talk. Sakuno did most of the asking, timidly putting forth the usual questions about the young man's childhood, his education, his favourite songs and food and so on. Ryoma, for his part, spoke very little, and only after some mild prompting. It wasn't long before Sakuno began to wonder whether their "conversation" more closely resembled an interrogation -- albeit a friendly one -- than a casual exchange between acquaintances.
"What are your parents like?"
"Hnh, my mother's okay."
"What about your father?"
Sakuno immediately realised that this was not the right question to ask. A pair of pale golden eyes, alight with suppressed rage, swung around and fixed themselves upon her own. She found herself overcome with the acute feeling that his penetrating gaze could slice the building around them in half.
"What of him?" he asked stiffly.
"Uh . . . I didn't, I mean . . ."
Ryoma turned his head and looked away. "I'd rather not talk about that man."
"Oh." I wonder . . .
She quickly changed the subject. "Have you ever had any close friends?"
"No, not really." Do cats count, though? he wondered, taking a long, thoughtful sip of Ponta. People have always pointed out how he seemed to get along with Karupin better than he did with other human beings, but this never troubled him in the least. His old mentor Gil Grissom was a lot more interested in bugs than in most of his two-legged colleagues, and he saw nothing wrong about that. There are times when animals make better companions.
Ryoma lowered his can and looked at her intently. "Why are you asking me all this?"
The question made Sakuno feel a little uneasy. Up to that point, she'd failed to realise that nearly all of the questions came from her. "W-well, I thought that since we'd be working together, I should get to know you better. Y-you know, making acquaintances whenever new people come in. No harm in that, is there?"
"I suppose not." He leaned back and began to finish off the last of his drink.
Now's your chance, a voice whispered in Sakuno's head. "Have you . . . no, I mean, do you like someone in particular? It's, well . . . um, what I'm trying to ask is if you've ever had, you know, a really special friend?" she ventured. It wasn't her habit to ask questions of this sort, but then she'd never met anyone as intriguing as Ryoma-kun before.
"No, I don't like anyone in particular." His forehead creased in thought. "And I'm not entirely sure of what you mean, but I guess I've never had any 'special friend'."
"Oh!" Sakuno exclaimed, her mood brightening.
"In fact, I don't really care very much about people in general," he said bluntly. "They tend to get in my way, so I avoid coming into contact with them whenever I can. Making ordinary friends is bothersome enough, and I'm guessing that making a 'special friend' will take twice the trouble." Another sip. "I just don't see the point."
"Oh." She looked crestfallen. "So, um, well . . . oh, i-it doesn't matter."
Ryoma looked at her quizzically, then drained his can and tossed it into a nearby dustbin. "Well, thanks for the Ponta."
"S-sure. No, um . . . no problem."
As the young man settled back into the armchair to resume his interrupted nap, Sakuno edged towards the lounge door and slowly turned the knob. Well, you've made quite a fool of yourself, didn't you? Just be thankful that he didn't send you away at first sight.
"Hey, you."
She turned around with a start and saw him standing before her. "Oh, Ryoma-kun! W-what is it?"
"You left this on the table." He took Sakuno's hand and dropped her nameplate into the open palm.
"Um, thank you," she said gratefully, pinning the object back onto her uniform. "S-so I guess I'll see you around?"
"I should have thought that was obvious. We work in the same building, don't we?"
"Uh, yeah, I suppose that's right. Well, 'bye for now then."
As she turned to leave, Sakuno heard Ryoma mumble something to himself. Though his words hovered on the very edge of her hearing, it did more to lift her spirits than anything else that had transpired between them that night.
"Ryuzaki Sakuno. Sa-ku-no." He mouthed each syllable carefully, like a child trying out new sounds for the very first time. "Heh, that's a lovely name."
A healthy flush of pink lighting up her cheeks, the young woman closed the door with a barely audible click and silently drifted away.
Well, that's all for now. Of course, I don't believe for a moment that anime-Ryoma hates his father as much as I've made out in this story (he's probably just ashamed of him, at most), but I think this little plot device might come in handy for a future episode.
As I've said in the opening note to Chapter 4, I shall try to put these introductory chapters out of the way as soon as possible so that I could move on to other episodes. Before the CSI series continues, however, I might breathe some life back into a PoT historical fanfic idea that I abandoned several months ago but that recently caught my attention once again, since my sister has agreed to collaborate with me on it.
Quick character preview for Chapter 6: Fuji, Momo, and Ryoma. Inui and Kawamura might also make their debut here, or in the succeeding chapter.