Implied Odds
The light streamed in from the big bay window over her bed. The single mattress slid comfortably under the windowsill giving the illusion that it was her headboard. Nycole liked it that way. It felt like the city outside was hers. She wanted this place to be home.
The familiar sounds of cars hustling through the city allowed Nycole to pretend she was still in Atlanta. The young woman spent so many years hating America that she should have been relieved to leave. The streets were always packed. The architecture was soulless. Everything was over advertised and horridly modern. But now the young woman missed it. At least there everyone spoke English.
Nycole stretched then pushed the over stuffed comforter down and around her waist. The empath stared out the window. She wanted to be out there living life to the fullest. The young woman wanted to explore the city without having to look over her shoulder. It was law that everyone carried a cell phone at all times. It was also law that everyone knew where you were, but not today.
The clock by the side of her bed read one in the afternoon. Finally. The young woman crept out of bed. Making sure to avoid the creaky floorboards, Nycole made her way over to the closet. Removing the folded outfit from the bottom corner she glanced over at her roommate.
Kathain slept soundly balled up on her mattress in the corner of the room. Nycole fastened the final button on her white button down shirt, bent down to grab her slip on clogs, and turned to go. She didn't want to waste anytime. She removed the note out of the folds in her floor length black skirt and placed it beside her the sleeping young woman. Making one last survey of the room she slipped out and into the main room.
She wasn't surprised to see Kristo asleep on the couch. She knew he had a room with a nice bed in it, but he always seemed to favor the beaten up ivory sectional. Then again everyone clung to what was left of his or her previous lives. The room was homey even if it was rather barren. Five couches, four table, two bookshelves, and an area rug made up the whole of the room.
With her shoes in hand, Nycole navigated herself through the labyrinth of furniture. The young woman seemed to perform a well-choreographed dance. Tip-toeing this way and that the ballerina avoided the noisy areas of the floor. She kept the rhythm in her head. Step, two, three. Step, two three. One graceful step after another inched her closer to the door, her only means of escape. With a final step Nycole turned to her audience, bowed, and retreated from the stage.
The staircase leading to the loft apartment above the club led straight into Purgatory. In anyone else's world such a statement would not cross a persons mind. But to Nycole it seemed ironic. She descended from her home into her own personal limbo. That is what the club was for them. Nocturne grew out of need. It was a place for them to wait. It was a place for them to exist until… She didn't know what they were waiting on; it wasn't in her craft.
But right now she didn't care. She was free.
Swiftly Nycole crossed the dance floor. The deep grey walls of Purgatory gave way to the deep red of Hell as she passed deeper into the club. With the lights on it was easy to see the rushed paint job, but at night when the club lights flickered casting shadows here and there it was a wonderous place. She rarely came into Hell. As one of the dancers she stuck to the platforms of Heaven.
Passing behind the stage at the far end, she could see the back door. Her fingers fished through the folds of her skirt until they found what they were looking for. Her hand shot into her pocket finding her keys. With one final act she opened the door and was gone.
xxxx
Dojima sat in her car waiting on her companion to show. Listening to silence of her vehicle the blonde thought about the victim. The young male seemed completely average. He had no distinguishing features. He went to an average high school where he struggled to stay in the top ten percent of his class. Dojima spent most of the time in the young males hospital room studying the strange scarring on the man's upper arm.
The thin pink lines resembled ritualistic scarring. The process of branding was typical to mark a witch. It was also used inside of some covens to mark rights of passage. The sheer thought of allowing someone to seer marks into her flesh sent shivers down her spine. How could anyone believe that such an act was a privilege?
Trying to focus on the exact pattern of the Dojima pulled away the bandages to gain a better look. The first seemed to be an arrow pointing up. No, Dojima thought. It seemed more like the mating of an arrow and the roman letter T. The second seemed a deformed letter H. The third she didn't know how to describe.
Taking a pad of paper and a pen out of her purse she began to doodle the visous little scars down. She needed to get these back to Michael and Karasuma. They would be able to do more research on them.
It was when the young patient mentioned Kabukichu that her ears perked up. It was even typical, even if it wasn't savory for him to have snuck into Kabukichu. The red light district houses every house of sin known to man.
Before the premier of Nocturne, he admitted having never gone there. But the industrial scene and Shinjucku had always been lacking. Now Dojima thought back on it. All of the attacks had happened in that general area.
So getting food in this area allowed Dojima and Sakaki to take notice of all the people in this area. So taking the time out of her schedule to grab lunch wasn't a distraction. No, it was research. The best part had been convicing Sakaki of this. It didn't take much. And so she was here waiting on him to arrive.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Snapping out of her internal world, Dojima peered over at her partner. The young blonde peered inside with a small curious look. He turned pulling away, but patiently waiting for her to collect herself. Grabbing her purse and keys she got out of the little sedan.
"Are you ready?" Sakaki asked.
"I am fine. Let's go inside. I'm starved." She chirped up.
xxxx
She pulled the covers up and over her head.
'What time is it? It can't be after two yet.'
The young red head peered out of her cocoon of blankets to stare at the clock she shared with her roommate. The little red numbers read one-thirty in the afternoon. The young woman reeled at the idea of being awake. Kathain didn't need to be awake for another six hours at least.
Pulling her legs out of the tangle of blankets Kathain tried to right herself on the single mattress. It was only then that she noticed the vacancy across the room. The single mattress under the windowsill was empty.
'Nycole, where have you wondered off to now?' Kathain wondered.
She rolled onto her side. Trying to find the lost heat in the blankets. It was then that she noticed the strange crunching noise. Kathain reached into the many folds of the blanket searching for the intruder in her personal space.
The small folded paper came out easily.
She opened the note.
Kathain,
I had to get out. The walls were closing in on me. I promise I am okay. I have my phone it is on silent. I promise to call back if it is you. Don't worry about me. I am at sushi bar down the road.
Don't tell the guys. I will be back before anyone wakes up. I promise to bring you teriyaki chicken and miso soup.
Nycole
The young woman just flopped back on to her pillow. Kathain couldn't blame her. Being at Nocturne most of the day could become over whelming. Even though they were allowed to come and go; it was still lonely.
Sighing the red head pulled her legs in tight. What did it matter? Nothing happened when either of them snuck out. Plus, Nycole had only gone about three blocks away.
'If something happens,' the precog thought.
'I'll know.'
xxxx
It felt good to be out in the world again. Nycole valued being able to wonder around without having to check in. The young woman only had to let people know where she was going, but to her it felt like another prison. This cage liked different. This cage seemed bigger. This cage was still a cage. It still forced her to live like a refugee. And she hated it.
But she wouldn't think about all of that right now. No right now Nycole was a normal young woman. Right now she could be anyone, but herself. And that meant a lot to her.
Quickly Nycole rounded the corner. Pulling her sack higher on her shoulder Nycole darted in between cars. Following the edge of the building she made her way to the door. With a gentle tug she was inside.
The smell of teriaki mixed with the sweet smells of various vegetables. The young woman loved this place. It reminded Nycole of the sushi bar back home. Ru San's had been her second home. She went there to study. She went there to hang out with others. Nycole went there to get away from it all. Ru San's was a sanctuary all her own.
But now it was this bar. This bar with huge slab mirrors half way down the walls. This bar with it's tacky green and pink décor. Nycole didn't care it was her bar now. She knew the waitresses. She barely knew enough Japanese to get around.
No, the young woman didn't really know the waitresses. She knew their faces and names. They knew that Nycole didn't understand them. But they tried to bridge the gap anyway.
"Konichiwa Nykole." One of the older women sang to her.
"Konichiwa." The young woman replied with a slight bow.
Nycole was learning their way. She was trying to adapt. The young woman was a survivor or so her mother had always told her. If only her mom could see her now. She made her silent prayer wishing she could see her mom again.
'You would be proud of me. I am being strong like you always taught me. I am strong for those around me. And gods I miss you.'
She filled in and took her normal place by the window. She enjoyed being able to watch the people as they passed by the window. Mid-step she halted. They were in her seat.
'How dare they. That is my seat. I always sit there.' The young woman thought with annoyance.
'There are plenty of other seats. You can eat at one as well as any other. Stop being an ass and go sit next to them. They wont be here long and you can have some tea while you wait. Then you can move.'
Satisfied with her new plan Nycole made her way to sit behind the blonde.
Before she sat she gave the waitress her butchered sign for hot tea. The older woman smiled at her. Eating here was easier once they applied this new language. With one hand pretending to hold a cup and the other acting as a saucer she made the motion of sipping. The young woman did this the first three times she had come. Luckily for her the waitress had picked up on this quickly. Now all Nycole wanted was to settle into a corner with her latest novel.
xxxx
Sakaki sat there staring out the window. They were no closer to figuring out who was behind the ritual burnings. The young man was frustrated. The burns had not been applied. For the account of the situation they burns had risen from the inside out.
The STN-J knew they were the result of a witch. Even thought there were no document cases of witches branding regular people. The blonde ran his hands through his disorderly curls. He stared down at Dojima's sketching. He knew one of them from dealing with Robin. The disfigured H, but the others were a mystery.
The little bell above the door chimed. He settled back into the booth. His attention shifted between the window and his partner. A sudden flare of black and white caught his attention. He crocked his head to one side taking notice of the red head staring at him.
She was of average height for an American. She was obviously foreign. He didn't know if she was American or not, but she was striking in a world of brunettes. Her flaming red hair was pulled back neatly falling over her shoulders. Her floor length skirt was full trailing around her legs as she came to a sudden halt.
Her chestnut brown eyes locked on his. Her eyes widened betraying her shock. Then instantly her cheeks flushed. He watched the young woman regain her composure and walk to the both behind him.
"…and I mean what does he expect of me? He couldn't really believe I would act like that. I mean can you blame me… Sakaki? Sakaki are you listening to me?" his partner's voice broke into his thoughts.
"I am sorry Dojima. I don't know where I was." His eyes focused in on hers.
With a sharp look from him to the young woman now seated behind him Dojima's eyes narrowed even further.
"I do." She teased playfully. "Now that I have you attention. We need to get these to Michael and Karasuma. If they are runes like the ones Robin used then they should be able to match them quickly. The boy said they had burned from the inside out. That is going to take a fairly powerful witch." The blonde paused to sip her green tea.
"I have to go out and talk to one of the other victims. This one is a young woman. I think I should go alone so that she doesn't feel intimidated. She may not want to talk if there is a guy present. You should take these and our notes back to the STN." She really wasn't leaving him a lot of room to argue.
He chalked it up to her wanting to shop or some other inane act. There probably was a female victim. She probably did have the scaring. But Dojjima had probably already talked to her. The hunter sat back aware of the young woman behind him.
"Then you should probably go ahead." He replied.
Dojima grabbed her purse and coat.
"Please make mine to go." She spoke to the younger of the two waitresses. Within minutes the waitresses reappeared holding a small plastic bag filled with an assortment of boxes.
"Well I am off now. I will see you back at the office." Dojima called as she headed away from the booth. He waited patiently as the waitress brought him his meal. He was starved. He didn't know why Dojima had been in such a rush to get away. Who knew whit that one?
He felt a light tickle at the back of his neck. Wisps of hair lightly traced down leaving a tingling sensation on his skin. Slowly he felt the young woman lean her head back and onto the bench. The light scent of roses filled his nostrils.
"Don't you just hate eating alone?" The soft voice spoke.