Disclaimer: Nobuhiro Watsuki owns Rurouni Kenshin and its characters. dementedchris owns nothing but her sanity -- and even that comes and goes as it pleases.
Without Words
Chapter Nine-Equal Mysteries
When Misao was eight, she nearly drowned.
The sea at Shonan had been was deceptively calm that day. Okina had brought her there on a company outing with the rest of the Oni Times, and she had waded too far into the water. The next thing she knew, she was surrounded by huge waves, pulling her under. Misao struggled for control, her legs seeking the sandy beach in vain, her arms clutching at nothing. She opened her mouth to scream, but the saltwater filled her mouth, cutting her off.
Then she remembered a pair of arms wrapped around her chest, dragging her towards the sunlight. Nothing could compare to the feeling of the air rushing back into her lungs, of finding herself in Okina's worried embrace. Misao had been saved.
But seeing her father's lifeless body staring up at her from that grainy black and white photo brought back memories of that day. The familiar choking feeling, the sudden loss of air and anchor, the fear that clutched at her and refused to let her go. She forgot how to breathe.
Then, a kiss.
***
Misao opened her eyes to see a familiar face drawing away from her, his beautiful blue eyes hooded. Her lips were suddenly bereft of the warmth of his presence, and her heart suddenly seemed to have taken up residence in her throat.
She didn't want to let go.
With a fierceness that startled them both, Misao clutched Aoshi's face between her hands and pressed her mouth to his. She felt him hesitate at the contact, before trapping her lips between his own.
She didn't want to let go.
***
One minute he was kissing her; the next he was being interrupted by a loud tapping on Misao's closed window. A blonde, spiky-haired officer stood there, grinning at them. His words were muffled by the thick glass, but they got the message. "Take it somewhere. You're parked in front of the police station."
They quickly broke apart at the intrusion. Aoshi straightened up as if nothing happened, but not before he caught sight of Misao fumbling with her seatbelt. He had always depended on his wall of restraint to shield him from the madness of the life he chose. How can he let one girl change that so easily? He cursed himself silently as he pulled out of the curb. He certainly didn't mean for this to happen. Things were already complicated enough as they were.
The air inside his car was thick with embarrassment. Normally, he didn't mind the silence but since it was his fault this time, he decided that he should break the ice. "Misao, I'm --"
"Uh, I just want --" she said at the same time.
He looked at her just in time to see her blush. "You go first," she offered.
Why was he suddenly the one cleaning up all the mess? She kissed him, too! Aoshi took a deep breath. Think of this as a hit, Shinomori, he reminded himself. The sooner you do it, the better. "Often, even people with the best of intentions end up in situations they cannot control. I apologize." Even to his ears, the words sounded forced, stilted. He cleared his throat as he drove on, not quite sure where he was headed. All he knew was that he would rather be somewhere else. "What did you want to tell me?"
But Misao gave no impression that she was offended by his blunt tone. Or if she was, she hid it behind a tight smile. "My lipstick smudged."
Very coolly, Aoshi wiped at his lips. Then he felt the gentle pressure of Misao's thumb tenderly rubbing at the side of his mouth.
"All gone," she pronounced.
"Thank you," he replied solemnly. He was afraid that if he said any more, his voice would betray him. All he wanted to do was tell her that everything was going to be all right. Granted, he didn't take normal measures to do it, but the results were the same. The last thing he expected was to be overwhelmed by his emotions like that.
"How come I don't see you with your glasses anymore?" she asked conversationally.
He was grateful for the change in the mood that he didn't mind answering such a frivolous question. "I only wear it around the university or during seminars."
"Don't tell me they're just for show," Misao said bluntly.
Aoshi kept his eyes on the road. "When you're young, people tend to take you more seriously if you look more dignified."
Beside him, Misao sighed. "I know what you mean. I've always started things young, even my job. It was really hard to gain everyone's respect when they think that I should be better off hanging out in malls or something." She paused, and from the corner of his eye, Aoshi saw her turn to him abruptly. "Hey, do you even know where you're going?" she demanded suddenly. "We had a deal here, remember? I thought you said you were going to drive me around, and I don't recall giving you any directions."
"We had to leave. Or would you rather we stayed at the police station?" he countered.
She made a tiny growl in her throat. He knew he was right. From her back pocket, she took out her ever-reliable notebook to check something out and recited out an address.
Aoshi knew the place. He hadn't been in Kyoto in a long time, but he was familiar with the narrow, winding streets, the local landmarks. He should have felt right at home. Yet as he turned from one street to the next, he had a terrible sense of dread in his chest.
"Right here," Misao pointed.
The shop was old and worn down. The windows and doors were boarded up by wooden planks, with the sign hanging limply to one side: Miyazawa's Fine Fans. As it obscured an empty alley from view, the place appeared as if it had been abandoned a long time ago.
Aoshi should know. He was the one who killed its owner.
***
"What are we doing here?"
Misao was surprised at the sudden coldness in Aoshi's voice. He wasn't looking at her and instead chose to stare straight into the distance. What tenderness she had found in him earlier was gone now, painfully reminding her of who really he was -- a man of science, a former member of the Juppongatana. He seemed so far away.
"I'm looking for someone," she told him. "Someone who can help me find what I came to Kyoto for."
"Stop playing games, Misao," Aoshi snapped. "What's this really about?"
She released her seatbelt with a snap. "Why are you being so nosy? I told you that this was my own business. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. If you object so much to being here, then leave."
Aoshi turned to her. "You owe me an explanation."
But Misao wasn't listening. She already had one leg out of the car when Aoshi grabbed her arm. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until you tell me what this is about? How can I protect you if you keep on jumping into trouble?"
"Jumping into trouble? I just came here to find the truth about my father," she answered, her forehead slightly wrinkled. He was confusing her with all his questions. What was he so upset about? "Are you all right, Aoshi? Look, I'll be fine, I promise. I'm just going to look around, maybe ask a few questions, and then we'll leave."
He let her go. As Misao stepped out of the car, she noticed Aoshi following suit. "My personal bodyguard," she smirked. "Put on some shades and I might fall in love with you yet."
He reached back into the car and retrieved a pair of sunglasses from the dashboard. "Maybe later," he intoned, putting it into his breast pocket.
Misao couldn't tell if he was teasing her or not. She tried to hide a smile as she walked towards the narrow alley beside the old shop. She could feel Aoshi relax slightly, although she couldn't think why. As she stepped into the small street, Misao's thoughts on him were slowly being replaced by fear and apprehension. Each step she took led her closer to the truth, to the place her father died.
The alley was a dead end, with a stack of boxes and crates stacked up against a chain-link fence. Even in the bright afternoon, the place was strangely cold and ominous. This had been the last thing he had seen. Had her father thought of her then, as he collapsed to the ground? Had he spoken her name in farewell?
"Are you okay?" Aoshi asked, interrupting her thoughts.
She nodded. "I'll be in a while. I'd just like to ask questions from the people here, if you don't mind."
Misao braced herself for another set of questions. But they didn't come. Instead, Aoshi nodded towards the Subaru. "I'll wait in the car."
She was grateful that he let her do this by herself. She followed him outside, but stopped at the shop standing by the alley's entrance as Aoshi strode back to his car. She doubted if anyone could remember anything about a random night more than twenty years ago. But if she wanted details for the night of her father's death, Miyazawa's Fine Fans was a good place to start. The shop was small, but the back led to an old two-story. Anyone there would have heard a gunshot. Anyone who happened to peer out the window would have seen her father's death. But the place was boarded up. As she surveyed the shop for an entrance, she couldn't help but feel that this was going to be a useless exercise. She shot a look at Aoshi, who was talking to someone on his mobile as he sat in the driver's seat.
"Excuse me," a new voice called out from behind her.
She turned to see a middle-aged woman standing by the house across the street. "No one lives there anymore."
Misao's heart sank, but she still managed to keep the smile on her face. "I was looking for the person who lived here twenty years ago. Would you happen to know where he is?" She took her wallet as she crossed the street, then showed her press I.D. to the woman. "I'm doing a little story for the Oni Times," she lied sweetly. "Maybe you can help me."
"Then you're looking for Mr. Miyazawa Tadao," the woman volunteered. "He's lived there ever since I was a child. Unfortunately, he died ten years ago. A good man, Mr. Miyazawa. He wasn't rich, but he was really dedicated to making the best fans. Unfortunately, business wasn't too good during his last few years, and he hadn't exactly been right in the head, if you know what I mean."
Damn, Miyazawa would have been a good lead. His house was in the perfect position. "Any relatives?"
"The only one I met was a niece named Kaoko, but she only visited once in a while. Sometimes she still checks this place out. I think the family has problems renting it out. What did you want to ask him about?" the woman asked.
Misao gestured towards the alley. "There's a particular case where someone was found dead in that alley twenty years --"
"The editor?" she interrupted. Misao nearly jumped in surprise -- she had hit big time with this woman. But the woman was already speaking. "I was just out of college when it happened. This place was a hotbed of activity back then, but nothing as big as an actual death! And such a famous person, too! We were flooded by policemen and media for about a week until the news died down."
"Where you here on that night he died? Notice anything unusual?" Misao leaned closer. "You see, I'm doing a follow up article on unsolved crimes. I'm trying to pick up things that the police may have missed, just to be on the safe side." She smiled, hoping that it was sweet and trustworthy enough to gain her more data.
Her informant shook her head. "I was in Osaka when it happened, but I came back as soon as I heard. Everyone on the block was interrogated. Mr. Miyazawa, especially, since his house is the nearest. But no one noticed anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. Those days, there would be isolated brawls and fights between gang members, but nothing too alarming." The old woman squinted at Miyazawa's house. "My parents always whispered that old man Tadao knew something but was just too scared to speak up. But I don't think even the police got anything from him. He was such a kind man, a little of a pushover."
It was really too bad that he had passed away. "And you said he had died ten years ago?"
The woman nodded. "Mysterious circumstances, too. I think he was poisoned or something, but no one was too sure. His relatives didn't really pursue an investigation."
Misao considered the facts. Two deaths, one place. Was it just coincidence, or was there a connection? Did Miyazawa really know something about her father's murder? But he was gone, and Misao knew that even interviewing his relatives wouldn't give her anything new. "Do you think there's anyone here I can ask? A family that's been around here since then?"
"I'm afraid not," the woman revealed. "Most of the older families moved out after the murder, except for ours and Mr. Miyazawa. The people living on the block now have been here for less than twenty years."
Misao smiled gratefully at the woman. "You've been a great help, uh…"
"Akemi. Fukuda Akemi," she supplied. "You're welcome. I'm glad to help, so you can just feel free to ask questions if there's something you've missed."
"Arigatou gozaimasu," Misao told her sincerely before turning back towards the car. This lead hadn't given her exactly what she had hoped for, but at least she knew she tried. Her mind was mentally going over notes. Next stop, to look for Police Officer Sadojima Hoji.
***
While he kept one eye on Misao's petite form talking to some woman, Aoshi was punching numbers on his mobile phone. "Hannya?" he said as his assistant answered the line.
"Is there anything you need, boss?" the man replied.
He wasted no time. "I want you to duplicate all our research findings and have them delivered to Shishio Makoto as soon as you can. He thinks I've betrayed him and he'll be able track me down. I don't know how to make him believe otherwise. But if the files are with him, then at least I've got a shot at making him think I've fulfilled part of the bargain." He paused. "No, wait. Make two extra copies of everything. One for Shishio, and the other for ourselves. That's for you to keep until I get back to Tokyo."
"I'll do that myself," Hannya said. "Anything else?"
"You can also tell your uncle thanks for the car," he answered. "He might not be seeing it for a while, so tell him I'll just pay him for it."
Hannya chuckled. "I don't think he'd appreciate it much if his favorite vehicle ended up in a junk heap."
"Not yet, anyway," Aoshi assured his friend. "I'll call you if I need anything." He turned his mobile off as he cast another glance at Misao. She didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave. For the hundredth time since he had seen her in Kyoto, Aoshi wondered what she was up to. There was more to her than what was on the surface.
Aoshi turned the radio on as he waited for her to return. "…police have identified one casualty in the recent explosion of the Kawashima building. The body of one Komayata Yumi was found…"
Yumi?
"…in the charred remains of the building. Operations are still underway to determine if there had been anyone else in the area when the bombing occurred. Cause of the explosion has not yet been determined. The Kawashima building was built in 1995 and has been leased for private office space…"
Yumi?
It couldn't be. Aoshi was numbed by the news. He and Yumi were history now, but he couldn't deny the pang of sorrow that hit him at her loss. How could Yumi be dead? Shishio guarded her even more jealously than all his treasures combined. There was no way she could have ended up in such an accident, unless--
Unless--
Misao's newspaper article. Yumi's warning in red.
Unless Shishio was coming after him, and found out that it was Yumi who had tipped Aoshi off.
Aoshi gritted his teeth and gunned the engine. Misao was already on her way back from her impromptu interview, completely oblivious to the car that was headed for her from the other direction, racing at top speed.
He threw the door open before he even came to a complete halt. "Get in!"
She didn't doubt the urgency in his voice. Misao dove for the passenger seat just as a hail of bullets rained on them from the other vehicle.
The chase had begun.
End of Chapter Nine-Equal Mysteries
Author's Notes: The title comes from the Indigo Girls' song Mystery, where one line goes "equal partners in a mystery." Standard disclaimers apply. Thanks to my readers for sticking with me up until this time. More mysteries are unraveled, and chapters will no longer be sponsored by letters of the alphabet. They're now rated for mild violence. :)
