Yarr. Chapter four is here. That means about.. six or seven left to type up. That's discouraging. Makes me want to stop. But reviews keep me going. (Most of the time)
Oh, I'm too lazy to lookup the name of who submitted this, but I have a review reply. Someone had commented that Sesshoumaru was better in the other story since he seemed so self-confident. Unfortunately, when you invade his mind like I'm doing now, it gets very hard to keep him acting so suave. But I shall try, just as long as you all continue to read this story. : )
Chapter Four: Meeting
I stretch for a split second then go to my room, shaking my head. I'm nervous all over again. But this time, it's worse. This time I will be speaking to her, althought it's about the trial. Hopefully the part of me that is so wrapped around her will be able to hold back. It's a professional relationship. I just have to remind myself of that.
I drive to the prison and walk into a waiting room. I drum my fingers against the table, trying to keep myself from going insane. 'Relax, Sesshoumaru... It's just a meeting for her trial...' I reassure myself. The door opens then I look up, my sharp nails continuing to hit the table. She looks at my claws, then back at me. Her face is red, once again, which causes me to snap out of thought. She's here, and I'm not moving!
I stand up then watch the guard leave her side.I extend my hand to her, and she looks at it for a moment. Even though she's acting partially dumb, it's still adorable. She reminds me of a child in so many ways. She blushes deeper and her head jerks back. She must've realized what my hand was held out for.
She grasps my hand then shakes it. Before she can embarass herself further (or make me like her any more), she sits down across from me.
"Shade of red suits you." I tell her. I can feel her eyes on me and I know she must be blushing once again. That woman's face will be dyed red if she blushes much longer.
"What?" She asks me. She sounds as if she's just learned to speak or something. I look up at her, finally, and try to hold back my smirk. I can't help but smile, but I still try to keep it back and as just a smirk.
"The shade of red you create when you blush. It suits you." I repeat. She covers her cheeks the second I finish my sentence.
"Alright... I have some of the reports that the police filed with you. The neighbors filed some paperwork too... This is strange." I look over the dates on the paperwork, wondering if they made a mistake. The neighbors filed the paperwork before the murder was said to have been committed. Someone must've paid them off, from my assumptions.
"What? I thought you normally filed paperwork on these things." She says. She leans forward, showing interest in the papers I have paused in my realization. I shake my head, trying to force my thoughts to organize myself.
"No... The paperwork from your neighbors is dated before the paperwork from the police. They filed their information on the murder before the murder was even reported." I tell her. She glares at me, but I have no idea why.
"I didn't murder anyone." She growls. I look at her, seeing how tight she has her jaws clenched. I notice her clenched hand then place my hand over hers. She relaxes almost instantly, but not enough for me to calm down.
"I'm not saying you did. You're charged with murder, so I refer to this as if you did. That's the way a lot of lawyers refer to their clients." I say. She lets out a deep breath then nods. She begins to blush, reminding me that my hand is still over hers.
"So, what's the issue with the paperwork?" She asks. She's bad at sounding casual behind her blush. She's still blushing, and I'm sure the red tint on her cheeks is going to be permanent in a few seconds.
"They shouldn't have their paperwork in before the murder is filed. Something's not right." I say. She looks at the paperwork with a hopeful glint in her eyes.
"What does that mean?" She asks with curiousity. I look at her then my hand returns to the paperwork. I hadn't intended to leave it there that long.
"It means that..." I pause and close my eyes. How do I get this out while it still makes sense?
"It means that someone paid the police and neighbors to frame you. For all I know, they could have killed the civtim themselves. But I can't guaruntee that. Something is definitely wrong with their papers being filed before the murder was filed." I tell her. She nods her head slowly, and I dread having to repeat that all to her.
"Does that change the trial?" She asks me. I shake my head and her face saddens. Now I feel guilt.
"All it means is that, if you get out, there's still someone else out there that may be to blame. I can't go after them, but perhaps you can hire someone to get the information for you." I tell her. She nods, once again, then looks down at the table.
"Alright, I'm going to ask you questions. You need to answer them." I tell her. She nods, her gaze never faltering from the table. It's as if she's having a staring contest with the bloody thing.
"What day did Hojo Matomi die?" I ask her. She starts to look up at me, but looks back down quickly. Do I intimidate her?
"October fifth." She replies shortly.
"I know these may get hard to answer, but you have to try your best... What was your relation with Mr. Matomi?" I ask her. Silence fills the entire room, bringing my attention to the sound of the tape recorder turning and recording the lack of noise.
"We were neighbors, and friends." She says quielty. I sigh, relieved to find out that there wasn't a romantic relationship between them.
"Why were your fingerprints on the bottle?" I ask. I don't care about the answer, but her story should be recorded. I write things down, even though they have nothing to do with the case. It's my 'to do' list.
1- Avoid Patrick
2- Clean Rin's clothes
3- Steralize anything Rin could have touched
4- Get mental help
Perhaps the last one should be before the second and third.
"Because Hojo was too sick to go out and get his medicine. I bought it for him the day before." She informs me. That snaps me back into reality and I remember I'm supposed to be listening to her and taking notes. I'll listen to the tape or something.
"How did you get into Mr. Matomi's apartment?" I ask, reading the questions from my tablet of paper. I look at her as she slouches in her chair. At least I'm not the only one bored with this.
"I knew where his spare key was. He told me just in case there was ever an emergency or if he got too drunk to tell me." She tells me. I let out a small laugh then straiten up. That was unproffesional... Just like my feelings for her.
"And what happened on that day when you found him?" I ask her. This is the last question, and I am overjoyed. This is boring. I only care for getting her out, not for finding out if she did it or not.
"I hadn't heard from Hojo all day. He usually called me everyday to talk to me about my day at work and all.. He didn't call my cell phone all day, so I got worried. I unlocked the door to his apartment then went in. I found him in the bathroom, and his bottle of medicine was empty. He overdosed on it, from what I understand." She says. The tape click off as I write a few notes down. I stop then close my folder.
"Then, that's all I have for today. I'll see you in a month, Ms. Higurashi." I tell her, being as formal as I can. I stand up then extend my hand out to her once more. When she rests her hand in mine, I pull it towards me and kiss the back of it. She looks at me, the red stain of her blush showing much more.
"Good... bye..." She mutters slowly. She sounds stoned. I watch as she walks to the guard then I leave towards my car. I get in, surprised that my cell phone is ringing.
"Hello?" I ask, hiding how happy I am feeling. I doubt Ms. Higurashi even knows how happy she's made me at the moment.
"Hi, fluffy!" I hear someone over the other line. I clench the cell phone, trying to avoid breaking it.
"When did you talk to Patrick?" I ask bitterly.
"Just now. I filled in the application to work for you." He says.
"I'll have to restock on red ink." I retort.
"Huh?" The idiot asks me.
"It means, Inuyasha, that I will be rejecting your reply. Whether or not this is father's business, you only got through school because you cheated on the final exam to become a lawyer." I tell him.
"How'd you find out?" He asks me stupidly.
"Because that's the only way you passed high school." I tell him. My anger gets the better of me and the phone becomes million of pieces on my lap. I grumble then head to the office to file whatever I heard in the conversation.
Hahahahaha! I'm almost halfway done! -starts dancing like an idiot- Yah! I'm doin' the hamster dance! Oh, I'm not sure if I said this, but Patrick Roberts is named after the boy I like in my science class. Oh, from this point on, the chapter names will start to vary from Depending on Him's chapter names. (They're basically the same up to next chapter).
Please, go to my profile. I would like you to tell me out of the stories I have in the making, which you'd like to read first. I'll be keeping tallies. The end of this story, I will work on the one with the most tallies...
Next Chapter: Pressure Relief
Reviews Needed: 60
- Bipolar Tangerine