Disclaimer: Ego does not own YuGiOh. When she rules the universe, she will look into it, however.
Summary: If you find it in your heart to do a favour of killing your boyfriend's father, it is better to warn your boyfriend so he doesn't get in the way. Ryuuji's Father's POV; SetoRyuuji; Humour
Notes: Meh, this is inspired from a short story, "Waiting for the Coroner" by Gary Brander. Suspense stories, murder stories, mysteries: that's what fills my lame-ass genre of what to read over the summer. I'm a sucker.
"Dead End" (aka., lame-ass title… XD)
It had been raining for days. I had died over the night to the sound of the water's piteous rapping on the window to be let in. Removing all uncertainty of the fact was a deep gash across my throat and the absence of a pulse.
In a few minutes my son would come into my room with his hair still wet from the shower. He had begun to inadvertently use this hair to rain on my face when he shook me awake in the morning. It was something to wake up to before having bitter pills wedged between your lips and forced down your windpipe with a glass of water. Dear Ryuuji had always been concerned for his father's comfort.
A little past being right on time, Ryuuji was opening the door. He stopped a moment when his flimsy make-shift turban unraveled, and struggled to fix it without dropping my pills and water. I would have told him not to bother, but I wasn't in a position to be speaking.
Ryuuji sat at the side of the futon, still disputing the ultimate location of his hair towel, and began opening bottles and counting out pills. He looked up at me for a second and blanched.
"Oh." My articulate son. His features had already collaborated for a blank, idiotic stare. The rebellious towel fell to the ground unnoticed.
Ryuuji shot from my side after a moment, realizing suddenly how close he was to my dead body. He left the room and hurried down the hall. Seeing as I had no ability to do otherwise, I waited patiently for him to return. Outside the door, the familiar voice of my son's boyfriend wanted to know what was wrong. Ryuuji couldn't tell him, but a flash of profound insight allowed Seto to realize it must've had something to do with me.
The two entered my room shortly, Seto taking the lead while Ryuuji found it suited him not to look at me—even if a wide gash in my throat hadn't dramatically reduced any previous signs of beauty. I had been an ugly man for much of my adult life. This may have in fact been a step up.
Ryuuji tried to explain what was wrong with me but his nerve cut him short. "He's—"
"Dead." An acute observation between the two. It was charming how they could often finish the other's sentences.
"What do I do?"
"Call the police."
"The police?"
I don't know what Ryuuji would have done if he hadn't had someone as capable as Seto around the apartment. Stalwart young man, my assumed son-in-law. He didn't miss a beat coming into the room and unsentimentally told Ryuuji to calm down twice before deciding he would call the police instead. There is no room for compassionate nonsense just because a lover's only remaining family has been murdered. Responsibility must be taken by him in regards to my dear son's incompetence.
"Oh God, Tousan! Look at his face, Seto. It's not peaceful at all."
My son was always a bit too fond of the aesthetic. Well, Ryuuji, I'm sorry it never occurred to me in my final moments to arrange my expression to one that would suit you and charm the inspector whom your boyfriend has just called on his cellular phone.
"Don't touch him until the police arrive." Seto could read Ryuuji better than anyone.
"But he's staring at the ceiling and it bothers me."
"Then we'll wait outside."
The two left the room, confident it was safe to leave me where I was lying. It didn't offend me. I wasn't going anyplace.
The inspector and his partner arrived as promptly as was expected of the Domino police force. One of the young men in the apartment had been thoughtful enough to make him tea, which he refused and his partner accepted greedily. At this, I greatly approved of the senior inspector. There was finally a man of intelligence on the premises.
"Are you certain you don't want any tea, Inspector Sato?"
"I'm quite certain."
"That is just as well, then. My father's room is down the hall. I was surprised at how cleanly he's died. I'd have thought there would be more blood from his wound."
"Hmm…."
The four men soon made their way into my room, the young officer sipping his tea tactlessly.
"So, this is where you found him," said the inspector.
"Yes." Though he hadn't been directed with a question, my son had felt inclined to answer.
"Mm-hmmm."
A thoughtful man. His black eyes scanned the room professionally. I was infused with a blind confidence in his ability and hoped he would solve the murder before I had to go. It would been fascinating to have one's murder solved right in front of them and not miss anything while being cut up at the coroner's.
"Who was the last person to see Otogi-san alive?"
"I was." A good boy, Ryuuji. "I gave him his medicine."
"You're the son, Otogi Ryuuji."
"Yes." Another non-question. The son didn't catch on quickly.
"Who was the first to see him in his condition?"
"I was. His medicine." Dedicated Ryuuji. He hadn't missed a dose in three years. Not even the boyfriend stopped him.
"Ahhh, mm-hmmm."
I hoped they'd hurry things along. It would be excellent now if they simply felt like solving my murder this year.
"What killed him?" The inspector's partner was apparently too preoccupied with his tea. His professional recovery of this was impressive.
"His throat was cut." Brilliant man, Kaiba-san. He knew a man with his throat slashed open when he saw one.
"Oh. Mm-hmmm."
I couldn't say the inspector's partner didn't try. Literally.
"Does either of you two recognise that weapon?" Things were back in the hands of the capable inspector. In acknowledgement of son's mystified glaze, he pointed towards the window where one of my beautiful antique daggers lay proud and bloodied.
In the quiet room, the gagging sound my son tried to conceal was magnified against his intentions. It was a disturbingly feminine sound which was not helped by the fact he looked like a woman with his hair down.
"It belonged to his father."
Competent Kaiba. It would've been hard to believe there was a dead man in the room, except that the dead man was I. His impassiveness rivaled that of the inspector's.
"Can you think of anyone who would want Otogi-san dead?"
"Yes." Clueless Ryuuji.
"Would you mind giving me some names?"
"Oh."
The inspector waited and Ryuuji said nothing. I had always feared for the boy's mind and he seemed to have lost it then.
"Who would want to kill your father?" A sigh of irritation from the inspector's partner.
"He probably is trying to think of where to start."
The fountain of wit; Seto never could help himself when it came to his intelligent remarks. Ryuuji interrupted before the partner could come up with something to say back that would embarrass everyone present.
"Well, people always say they want him to die and go to hell. I just can't tell who was serious about it." Dear Ryuuji would've known; he had to deal with people who didn't like me on a daily basis. There were too many sorts of people I detested.
"Can you think of no one?"
"No—I mean, yes. I mean—Well, I can't remember anyone who would actually go this far."
Things weren't looking good for my son. His business depended on his ability to defend himself in a situation where he could be accused of a terrible crime. The pressure was known to him and made him apprehensive. It seemed I had failed in teaching my son how to be controlled in a manner much like his boyfriend was when the inspector turned to him.
"Kaiba-san, could you imagine why someone would kill Otogi-san? What was the old man like?"
"He was old." Not the eloquent type, Seto. The least of his flaws was being long-winded. "He was moody, even more so as he'd gotten older. He was not easily liked. That is all I know."
"Ahhh." The inspector became a force of considerable weight as he deliberated over what Seto had told him. He motioned deftly to his partner, who took the cue to stand in the doorway, thereby blocking the exit. I was delighted by this silent understanding between them. It seemed things where wrapping up.
"Kaiba-san, why did you stab this man?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do."
A silence descended upon the room as all eyes (well, almost all) turned boldly towards Seto, anticipating his defense. Ryuuji was uneasy; this showed in his curious habit of tapping the pad of his thumb and index finger together as though he frantically desired to snap them. Seto remained unruffled.
"I have reason to believe that you stabbed this man, Kaiba-san. You've never liked him and may believe you are doing your boyfriend a favor. The manner in which you treat his death is both solemn and sarcastic. You seem proud of yourself and are not shocked by the sight before you."
"You're making that up. This is foolishness."
"I'd think so, especially since the murder weapon was left behind, but I believe otherwise."
"What is your reasoning?"
"My reasoning is my own."
"I'm getting a lawyer."
"You truly are an intelligent young man," said the Inspector. His words mocked my son's boyfriend. "Now, I must ask you to come with my partner and me to the station until that magnificent lawyer appears."
Seto only looked at the inspector. He was no longer speaking to guard against incriminating himself further. Instead, he had placed an emotionless void onto his face. It was a mask he had mastered and I had tested with my incessant complaints and insults. Through time, it had become very effective.
The younger officer removed a pair of handcuffs from somewhere at his waist, and Seto obediently turned for him. Ryuuji flinched at the click of the locks opening and spoke out.
"Stop! You're wrong, Inspector Sato. Seto didn't kill my father."
"I don't see why I should believe otherwise, Otogi-san."
The inspector's expression was a contradiction to his words. His eyes were alert and watching Ryuuji with relished anticipation. Ryuuji couldn't help backing away from the intensity while he tried poorly to explain himself.
"I think I know who killed my father."
It was obvious to everyone present that this was to be a turning point. The signs were easily read—Ryuuji's sudden anxiety, the inspector's seeming to know all, the catching of breath from the young officer's direction—I, most of all, remained quiet and unmoving to hear what my son had to say.
"Tell me who killed your father, Otogi-san."
The demand was soft, allowing me to imagine my son as a child who must have all witness and confession coaxed out of him gently.
"It was…I."
The inspector nodded, seeming to approve of the answer very much.
"Did you poison him?"
"Yes."
"Then you will be arrested."
Seto's expression wavered as the young officer, after a prolonged moment of confusion towards which man he was arresting, requested that Ryuuji turn around.
"He's lying. It's stress causing him to have some fantasy of being the one who killed his father."
The inspector nodded in understanding. "If you're worried about watching Ryuuji go, don't. We're taking you, too. After all, you tried to kill the old man."
Seto grew quiet again as another set of handcuffs were produced. I observed the proceedings without comment, feeling well-entertained for the morning. It was time to go. If it were possible, I would have thanked them for their poor planning which had amused me greatly in my last moments. Without a word, however, I left Seto to his silence and Ryuuji to his whimpering.
Endnote: Thank gummy worms it is over. I got hungry and stopped adding on. ;o)
Ling no Yong-
