Chapter 5: Solitaire
---
The puppetmaster didn't know what he was expecting when he stepped out into his living-room dressed and rubbing a towel through his dark hair. He certainly wasn't expecting to come face to skull with his indigestion again.
Sakon nearly jumped out of his skin, though relaxed. "Okay, what are you? This is getting ridiculous!"
It stared at him in polite silence, and Sakon sighed. He knew he should be scared out of his wits, but this... whatever it was, didn't feel malicious like some of the murderers he'd met.
"Are you just a bad case of indigestion?" He demanded. It shook its head. "Hallucination?" Shake. "Evil spirit?" Vigorous shake. "Demon? Devil? Oni?" Shake, shake, shake.
"Ghost?"
"WAY TO GO CORPEREAL DUH." Scrawled itself in red across the wall in red and then vanished.
"No need to be rude. So you're a ghost."He reached a hand out cautiously and touched the man's shoulders. Should ghosts be that solid? "Are you here to haunt me and make my life miserable?"
The ghost stood there and stared with his empty eye sockets.
"I'll take that as a 'no'. What do you want?"
"HELP ME." Appeared on the wall and soon after vanished along with the ghost.
Sakon gave an exhale of frustration. "You'll have to be a little more specific then that..." he said to thin air.
---
Hisoka Kurosaki knew better than to ever mix medication again. The rapid development potion had worked great, but it had also mingled with the potion the Count of the Hall of Candles had made with... interesting results.
It was already past noon by the time Hisoka and Micheal were standing outside the Miles' front door, and ringing the bell.
A young man who looked a little older than the boy in the photograph answered. The picture must have been old because Gregory Mile's brother looked like he was about 16 and well into a growth spurt.
Hisoka produced the badge that Aloysius had doctored up, and went through the lines as quickly as possible.
"Agent Kurosaki and Agent Phenninger," Micheal produced his own badge, "from the FBI. Are Mr. Or Mrs. Miles at home? We would like to ask a few questions in regards to the tragedy with Gregory Miles."
The young man stared blearily up at Hisoka and the Shinigami noticed his eyes were puffy and bloodshot and he had red splotches on his cheeks. He had been crying, and recently. Finally, he nodded and held the door open for Hisoka. "Mom's home."
Hisoka and Micheal stepped inside. It was a nice house with polished wood floors and thick, cushy throw-rugs. It smelled nice, and in better times had been a very happy home, but at the moment the Shinigami could practically see tendrils of grief radiating out the walls.
"Mom," the boy called softly, peeking into the living room, "the Feds are here. They want to ask some questions."
A woman sitting on the floral-patterned couch draped with quilts and throw-pillows stood very slowly and nodded at the two. "Please," she said, "come in. Carl, could you make some tea?"
"There's no need-" Micheal started, but the woman raised a hand.
"You're trying to catch the bastard that did this to my baby." She said softly, straightening and squaring her shoulders as Carl disappeared into the kitchen. "The least I can be is hospitable, since I don't think I was much help with the police."
"We just need to ask a few questions," Micheal said reassuringly. "And then we'll be out of your hair."
---
"You owe me ten dollars," was the first thing Tsuzuki said to Ralph as they looked in Jill's room. There was no sign of her partner.
Jill sat up as they stepped in and offered a polite, if bemused smile. Ralph took out his badge. Tsuzuki followed suit, producing his own doctored badge from the recesses of his trench coat.
"FBI, Miss. Just here to ask a few questions. You feelin' up to it?"
Jill nodded and motioned to the two chairs.
"By the way," Ralph said looking around the room, "Your partner wouldn't be here by any chance?"
"Leon was here earlier, but he went back to his apartment a little after I got up," she croaked.
"Leavin' a pretty lady like you all by your lonesome?" Ralph looked genuinely shocked.
Jill gave a hoarse laugh and shook her head. "He was here all night while I was unconscious. He was dead on his feet when his little brother and D stopped in this morning so I asked D to make sure he got home all right." She smiled, rubbing her bandaged neck gingerly. "Besides, I need him to look into what happened to Greg after he's gotten some sleep."
"Greg?" Tsuzuki asked, brow raising.
"Yeah," Jill replied, looking confused. "The FBI was down at the precinct yesterday after they found his body."
Tsuzuki looked to Ralph who decided not to meet the other man's gaze.
"Yes, Greg. That's right." Ralph said, toneless. Jill gave him a skeptical look, but didn't say anything. But Tsuzuki could tell by her expression that the way Ralph had just brushed off Greg's death she was not happy. "Anyway, we need to know everything you can remember."
Jill was watching them like a hawk now, her brown eyes that had been warm and welcoming now had a sharp, calculating stare. Tsuzuki didn't like the way it felt she was looking through them. It reminded him of the way Hisoka glared, all chilly and impersonal. She must be a damned good detective...
"I was going to see Leon at D's shop. I go there sometimes when I need to drop off work for Leon."
"Where is this shop?" Tsuzuki asked politely. Ralph was taking notes in unreadable shorthand while Tsuzuki listened to Jill.
"In Chinatown. It's a pet shop, though it's kind of exotic. D sells some really weird animals... but anyway, I was going to see Leon and just outside the shop I saw some guy in a white coat having trouble with his car..."
---
Who are these guys? Jill thought looking at the man in the black suit and tench coat that wouldn't have looked out of place in a bad sci-fi action flick geared at adolescent boys with more hormones than braincells. They couldn't be FBI. Not the way the balding old guy had brushed off Greg's death...
No. That wasn't it. He hadn't seemed uncaring, just desperately wanting to change the subject...
And the man in the trench coat... her gaze kept getting drawn to him. He was definitely Asian, though she had never seen such a brilliant amethyst colour in eyes before. And the more she talked, the more they hardened with cold fury.
These guys may not be Feds, but they were definitely after the man who'd done this to her.
But she couldn't get out what she had seen... Greg's face on that... thing.
---
Leon fumbled with the keys to his apartment as D and Chris waited in polite silence.
"Jill... Jill looked really good, huh Leon?" Chris said to break the silence. "I think she'll get better, right D?"
"Most definitely," D said, a little distracted. "She'll pull right through."
Leon just grunted, rubbing at the dark circles under his eyes and finally got that damned shoddy lock to open. When he stepped into his apartment, he gaped.
---
Trilochana sat in her nest of splintered furniture, tattered curtains, cushion stuffing and various other bits and pieces she had torn the the living room apart to build her nest with. She was feeling sluggish after D had thrown a fit about the stupid human contraptions he kept, and then she had gone into labor. And now... now there were the two eggs, about the size of ostrich eggs the same powdery blue as her skin. She'd stroke them with pride, crooning and singing. These eggs were far more important than any couch or curtain or chair, or at least she thought so.
How she wished Aparajita were here to see them. But no, only that damned batrabbit that wasn't an animal at all was here under D's strict orders to make sure she didn't cause any more damage.
When she wasn't doting over her eggs, she would peer up from the edge of her nest and stare unblinkingly at Q-chan.
She didn't like the way the creature was always with the Great Nestwing, like some sort of watchdog. It was unnerving. And he didn't smell like any animal she had ever seen. In fact he smelled a lot like D-D, and not on account of him always being with the Kami.
What are you...? the Siren thought, ducking back down to stroke the shells of her eggs, and then peeking up again, narrowing her blue eyes in distrust.
Q-chan gave her a guileless look.
And then Trilochana realized just what was looking back at her, and she smiled with her purple lips, exposing white fangs that gleamed in the yellow lamplight.
She began to sing, softly so that the other nesteggs wouldn't hear. It was a beautiful melody, thousands of generations old. Q-chan seemed to try to resist its tug, but his eyes soon glazed over in a look of pure bliss and he fluttered gently to the source of the sound...
She snatched him out of mid-air in one swift movement, and stuffed him whole into her mouth with a satisfied purr. D would probably be furious, but he'd thank her later...
---
"D'ya suppose we can go in there and see the eggs?" Pon-chan asked hopefully looking at Tet-chan.
"The Count said not to," he grumped, pacing at the door. "She might bite us or something."
Pon-chan pouted, looking longingly at the door. "I just wondered if Siren eggs are pink and green like one of the Naga's said."
"They're blue." Tet-chan replied, leaning back against the door. He had been there the night before when the Count helped her deliver the eggs.
"Oh."
"But I think it varies by the colour of the Siren. There might be a pink Siren. Or a green one. But Trilochana's blue."
Pon-chan giggled.
"What's so funny?" Tet-chan asked, arching a brow.
"I was just thinking about that Disney song, with the blue birds. Could you imagine Trilochana landing on Snow White's finger?"
Tet-chan gave this the consideration it was thoroughly due.
"That'd be a sleep no handsome Prince Charming could wake her up from..." he paused. "Do you hear singing?"
Pon-chan's ears perked. "Yes! Trilochana must be happy."
"No..." Tet-chan said, pressing his ear against the door. "That's how they lure prey... is there anyone in there with her?"
"Q-chan I think-"
Tet-chan didn't need any further incentive. He burst through the door just as Trilochana stuffed something small, brown and fuzzy into her mouth.
"Trilochana," he warned, glaring fiercely at the Siren. He knew the Toutetsu was one of the few natural predators Siren's had, and so she'd listen. "Drop him."
Trilochana gave the Toutetsu a mutinous glare, but complied, spitting out a saliva-soaked Q-chan. The batbunny stood, disgusted at the blue goo he was covered in and then proceeded to squeak batbunny profanities at the Siren.
Tet-chan ignored him but instead met the Siren's stare. "What the hell got in your head that you thought you should eat him!" He jabbed a finger at the furiously squeaking batbunny. "The Count keeps you fed and indulges all your stupid little whims. Why Q-chan?"
The Siren tossed her head haughtily. "If you had any sense, you'd have done the same." She leered horribly at the batbunny, her lip curling in a sneer and revealing her long, pointed incisors. "But I know his little secret... he won't reveal himself to you, but I know." She glared at Q-chan. "Scratch the surface of the lie and the truth bleeds through!" As if to emphasize her point, she swiped her talons at the animal. Tet-chan immediately put himself between D's pet and the Siren, and she backed away with a snarl. "I should have bit down and snapped his little neck when I had the chance because now he won't make the same mistake twice. I swear as soon as Great Nestwing gets here his little game will be over."
Q-chan stared back at her defiantly, and Tet-chan just looked at her as if she had grown another head.
"What are you rambling about? He's just a stupid batbunny!"
"He's-" She coughed, "He..." She coughed again, more fitfully. "He's a-" and then she clutched her throat, as if she was choking.
"Trilochana...?" Tet-chan exclaimed, now quite concerned.
The coughing stopped, and she tried to speak again but no sound came.
"...Are you okay?" He watched in horrified fascination as her lips moved but there was no voice. And then she screamed, a horrible silent scream. If there had been a sound, Tet-chan imagined it might have shattered glass. "Q-chan, get the Count!" Tet-chan exclaimed looking desperately at the batbunny. "Something's really wrong with her!"
"Kyuu!" The batbunny affirmed and zipped out the door, trailing the blue saliva all over one of D's more expensive oriental rugs.
"It's okay Trilochana, the Count'll be here soon!" He tried to reassure her as she thrashed violently, expression one of sheer panic.
---
Amita looked up from where she was sprawled out on the couch with the two children as the door opened and the yellow two-legger stepped.
He pointed at her furiously as she gave him a lazy stare.
"YOU!"
"Yes me," Amita said innocently as if she hadn't trashed his car, and shredded the upholstery on his couch. "I couldn't get into the Count's shop so I tracked your scent here and we let ourselves in."
"You... wait, what?"
"What's all the commotion?" D said stepping in with Chris and gave a gasp of surprise as he spied the Manticore sprawled out on the couch like she owned the place. Chris's mouth turned into a little 'O' of amazement.
"What... are... you doing... in my... apartment?" Leon managed, on the verge of becoming quite hysterical from sleep deprivation, stress, and sheer aggravation that this Manti-thing had the nerve to break into his home and lounge around on his couch. It was then that a child of about four and indeterminate sex poked its head out from under the Manticore's enormous wing and pointed an accusing finger at Leon.
"Got bubbies on his wall!" The four-year-old stated matter-of-factly.
"Oh Mister Detective! You still have that smut in your room? No wonder you never let Chris visit." D huffed looking at Leon in disgust.
"Excuse me, there's a Thing-a-core on my couch and we're talking about porn?" Leon snapped angrily. "Can we please get a little perspective?"
"Actually," the Manticore continued, "It was a topic of much interest between Twyla and I how two-leggers of such endowment remain upright without their spine telescoping. We'd have slept in there but apparently she said it was indecent." The creature sniffed. "I'll never understand humans... but anyway..."
"Can someone please explain why the fuck there is a manatee on my couch!"
"Manticore." Amita corrected.
"Mister Detective, language please! There are children present!"
"Said a bad word, gotta put a quarter inna jar!"
Chris was doubled over in silent giggles, and another child a fair bit older than the boy screaming about quarters clambered out from under the other wing. It took Chris a moment to recognize it as a girl because her hair was so short.
"We're hiding." Said the creature calmly as the girl wiped sleep from her eyes.
"Okay, I can deal with the Manticore. This is just another normal day in the fucked up world of knowing him." He jerked an accusing thumb at the Count as the four year old boy screamed 'Quarter!'. "But what's with the rugrats? What the hell are you hiding from?"
"Mister Detective..."
"You want to know what we're hiding from?" The Manticore hissed, a small smile creeping along her mouth.
"YES."
"Very well. I'll tell you everything I know... you might want to have a seat though. This is a long story..."
Leon scowled at the idea of this creature offering him a seat in his own apartment but he complied.
---
"I knew Greg was bisexual since he was sixteen. My husband left when I refused to put him in one of those programs that apparently 'cures' gayness." Mrs. Miles dabbed her eyes and gave a hollow laugh. "It really wasn't a surprise when he brought home a man. An older man at that. Quite charming and apparently he was a doctor. Said he owned a private clinic in Japan, but he was thinking of moving to the states after he finished up some personal matters back home." She sniffed, and took a deep breath. "Then, after two years, Greg just broke it off with him. No explanation. He just said 'it wasn't working'. And then he started burying himself in his work."
She looked at Hisoka, all of a sudden quiet. Finally she spoke, and Hisoka could practically taste her grief. "Do you have children Miss. Kurosaki?"
Hisoka shook her head, mentally noting again to never, ever mix medication. And not to let Watari know about this either. Or Saya and Yuma. Especially not Saya and Yuma. "No."
She nodded, looking away. "Sorry... it's just... it's still fresh, you know? Inside, I still love him because he was my baby boy but now I'll never see him again."
Hisoka watched her in silence as Carl brought in a tray laden with tea, and settled down next to his mother. She pulled him into hug, squeezing his shoulders.
"Still, I have this one. Thank God for small miracles." She smiled, ruffling Carl's hair. "Carl and Greg got along great for brothers. Greg would stay here, sometimes for a week at a time to visit with us."
Carl managed a small smile but it vanished as he cast a furtive glance in Hisoka's direction. Hisoka glanced back at the teenager, mouth creasing into a frown. The boy stared back and then slowly mouthed the sentence 'need to talk'.
Hisoka nodded. She knew that on many an investigation there were things the children couldn't say in front of the parents. "Mrs. Miles, would it be alright if Carl shows me where Greg stayed when he visited?"
"Sure, sure. Carl?"
"Yeah mom."
---
Carl was quiet as they went up the stairs, and all the way to Greg's room. Hisoka looked inside and saw that the room was sparsely furnished, though there was some indication that someone spent a lot of time here on and off. There were trophies and medals from high school and college soccer and track. Most of them were bronze or silver, though he'd nabbed the gold a couple of times as well. There were also photos on the wall, some framed such as what appeared to be a vacation in Mexico where he was about fourteen and his mother was holding a four-year-old Carl.
"I miss him." Said Carl quietly. "I miss him a lot, already. I saw him two freakin' days ago and he was being such an ass that I couldn't wait for him to leave and now I'd give anything to have him back."
"How was he being an ass?" Hisoka asked, perplexed.
"He just was. I told him something... about what that boyfriend of his did to me and he just... he just essentially told me to pretend it never happened. That he'd fix it. But..."
"What did his boyfriend do to you?" Hisoka asked, getting a horrible feeling that he knew where this was going.
Carl shrugged, looking anywhere but at Hisoka. "I saw it on you too." He breathed so soft that Hisoka almost didn't hear it. "It's like a tattoo, but not. Like a brand burning into your skin. I saw it as soon as I saw you."
No, Hisoka thought. No no no no NO!
"You're not FBI are you?" He asked, standing up a little straighter. "You're detectives, yeah but... you're not the kind of detectives people normally meet, right? There's something really bad going isn't there?"
"I-" Hisoka didn't know how to respond, so he shut his mouth as soon as it opened.
"Greg wasn't just murdered, was he? I know... I know it's something a lot bigger. I know because I overheard something I wasn't supposed to hear, and that doc... he got me too."
And Hisoka couldn't do anything but watch in horrified silence as Carl raised his sleeve.
There, burning red in the afternoon sunlight was the curse.
---
"This whole mess began back during the second world war of two-leggers. I was in Europe at the time, testing how far north I could survive when I was caught by an elderly man from Japan named 'Kazutaka'. He was a doctor, but only by title. I knew him for what he really was..."
D looked up and was about to say something but stopped.
"...a monster. A monster who soon fathered another, and the horrors did not even stop at his grandchildren when they were born a good twenty years later."
Leon frowned and looked at D. "What is she on about?"
D raised a warning finger for silence. Just listen.
"The Kazutaka family has had an affinity with monsters and demons for a long time, seeking power and immortality above all things. It was the Grandfather who discovered a forbidden rite."
"This is bullshi-"
"QUARTER!" Lyle shrieked.
"Both of you be quiet and let Amita finish!" Twyla snapped.
"Yes, please," D added, glaring pointedly. "Do continue, Amita. What is the rite?"
"By taking the blood and souls of seven innocents who embody the virtues of a god, and then making that god from one's own flesh and blood. In other words, one's self or immediate family. That god, that power to even destroy the very world itself, would be at that person's command."
---
"Hey, Sakon!" Zenkichi Fujita had been in Los Angeles for two weeks working on his latest photojournalism project. A series of murders similar to the ones that had been cropping up all over Japan had struck his fancy. Ever since meeting the puppet master-come-detective, he had developed a taste for stories of a more macabre nature. And what was more dark than brutal murders committed by some guy with a thing for roses, blood, and the ilk? Zenkichi had been in a mood for Lovecraftianesque purple prose, and what better an opportunity to present itself than the vampire killer moving from the east to the west?
Sakon turned, surprised by the familiarity of the voice, and stepped back a ways before Zenkichi almost bowled him over.
"Fujita-san, it's a surprise to see you here." Sakon remarked. It actually was. He'd known the brilliant-if-absent-minded photojournalist had taken off for the United States, but he was astonished that they'd run into each other yet again by sheer coincidence in the middle of a crowded Los Angeles street?
"Ha ha, it's strange running into friends so far from home!" Zenkichi replied, a big grin passing across his face.
Sakon looked away nervously. 'Friends'? That was a strange word to hear from someone made of flesh and blood and not wood. But Zenkichi could be a careless person as well. The case could probably be he was just throwing the word out for lack of a better term.
"Yes, it is a little unsettling." Sakon decided, and immediately regretted it. Zenkichi looked genuinely hurt that he was 'unsettling'. Sakon raised his hands up apologetically, immediately loosing his cool. "I... I'm sorry!" He stammered, "I mean, it's just strange. I h... haven't seen you in two years and well..." He felt his cheeks colour, certain he was only digging his hole deeper.
"They weren't exactly the best circumstances, huh?" Zenkichi finished for him, giving a sympathetic smile.
Sakon swallowed, and nodded. "Yes." First the incident with the sword Byakko and the slaughter that wreaked, then the trouble with his aunt's fiancée, and finally Date and that whole gruesome ordeal. As nice as Zenkichi was, Sakon couldn't separate those incidents from the other man.
Still. i Friend /i . He had never been friends with anyone but Ukon and the other puppets before.
He looked up, meeting Zenkichi's gaze. "You're right. They weren't the best of circumstances."
"Right! Okay. So then why don't we start over?" He suggested, and Sakon looked alarmed by the proposition.
"Wh... what are you talking about?" The puppet master aske reproachfully.
"I'm saying let's start again. Like this." He held out his hand, his grin wider than ever. "Zenkichi Fujita, 23, and genius photojournalist. I'm currently documenting an investigation into a brutal murder case!"
Sakon grimaced. i Not more murders... /i But he looked down at the offered hand and then up at the big grin. You couldn't refuse a man who smiled like it was going out of style.
Sakon took the offered hand, returning Zenkichi's grin with a small smile of his own. "Sakon Tachibana, 19, and here on an internship at the LAPD."
"Nice to meetcha!"
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Fujita-san."
---
A/N: Behold another chapter a bajillion years late because I'm a bum. Yeah sue me.
What did I tell you? Answers! Well, kinda.
And for those of you who aren't familiar with Ayatsuri Sakon, I suggest you go download/read/watch it because it's a pretty shibi little manga/anime that really doesn't get enough love.
...especially if your a fan of Takeshi Obata's art and Megumi Ogata's voice?
As for Zenkichi, I'm sort of going by both the manga and the anime. Yes, I know in the manga he didn't appear in the Byakko arc, and all that jazz, but what the hell, I love the man. But he did appear in that arc in the anime (why I cannot fathom, but I'm not complaining) so I guess it's sort-of canon? XD Depends on what you go by in the end. And yes, Sakon is a little OOC and there's a reason for that besides the fact I'm still not used to writing him yet.
As for any shipping in here so far, give me time. There will be some fluffbunnies floating by soon to distract from the pretty long and complicated plot I gotta slog through.
...and yes, before there's any confusion, mixing the potion the Count of the Hall of Candles and the Rapid Development potion turned Hisoka into an older woman.
COMING NEXT...
More answers? More convoluted (ooh, art school buzzword) plot shinanagins?
Leon realizing that no, straight men just don't wear pants that tight? (Case in point, Samurai Troopers)
Or just another long wait for Jabbers to stop playing Okami and get off her ass?
...You know I love y'all. Crit and comments welcome. You know the drill.