Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei or any characters within. This is pure entertainment and no one's monetarily profiting off my story.
Warning: Um.. Hints of goriness. Erm.. I think that's it. No new OCs to speak of. Mwahaha.
Hi's peoples, as I said this update was gonna run a wee late. Hope everyone enjoys 'cause I delayed a little longer to polish this chapter up some. It had a few plot inconsistencies and other things that needed straightening.
Hee reviews… :D
Hi ya, Stratus5! aww.. thanks. –grin, hugs back- I'm really happy you like it so much. Hope I can continue to meet (or exceed) your expectations.
Yo happygreendragon, you're as hyper as ever I see. –giggle- Thanks, I'd been waiting, oh so impatiently, to be able to put that Tsusoka moment in. And yea, those meds were freaky, and I doubt getting your wisdom teeth out sooner would help you out with side-effects if you get them. Heh. –embarrassed- I sincerely hope it is a good read.
Hellos TheOneYouCallWe, Yeap. they were …. While I appreciate your sympathies, kinda wish you left a review about the story. XD;; Oh wells, tell me what you think, next time. Ok :D
Hey Literary Eagle, thanks:DD –happy to have repeat reviewers- Yeah, tribbles.. kinda like little girls can be the scariest thing in the world in scary movies. Maybe I should start writing creepy original fiction? I know I have a bunch of material to use. Hehe.
I still don't have the newer vols of YnM :'( So sad.
'The wounds are terrible. The paint is old.
The cracks along the lips and on the cheeks
cannot be fixed. The cotton lawn is soiled.
The arms are ivory dissolved to wax.
..It is twilight in the dolls' museum. Shadows
remain on the parchment-coloured waists,
are bruises on the stitched cotton clothes,
are hidden on the dimples on the wrists.
The eyes are wide. They cannot address
the helplessness which has lingered in
the airless peace of each glass case:
to have survived. To have been stronger than
a moment. To be the hostages ignorance
takes from time and ornament from destiny. Both.
To be the present of the past. To infer the difference
with a terrible stare. But not feel it. And not know it.'
--The Doll's Museum in Dublin, by Eavan Boland
"Hiroshi-san?" A quizzical voice spoke out and a hand tapped his shoulder. Raising a hand to rub at his face, Sachiya leaned backwards against the chair yawning and stretching, making a worn-out 'I'm-waking-up' noise.
"Oh, sorry! Wrong person. Hi, I'm Tsuzuki Asato. I haven't seen you around before.."
"Mhm." Shade blew out, before he opened his eyes; peeking up at him, he stammered out his name and affiliated himself to Nui. If we were alive, I'd shoot him pronto. Of course, the dead photographer meant a photo shoot, and nothing about guns.
Then his eyes rolled over to the disgruntled-appearing man Tsuzuki introduced as his partner, who frowned at Sachiya as he mentally lamented the fact that he seemed to meet nothing but picture-perfect models, female or otherwise, in the afterlife; It was unnecessarily cruel, his mind whined.
Stretching, he asked what he could do for them. Kurosaki scowled, muttering something about being loud, which confused Sachiya because they were having a conversation at normal volume levels, and stepped out of the room, while Tsuzuki answered with a question.
"You were attacked by a soul influenced by a demon, right?"
"Yea. Got my neck wrapped the wrong way around my spine." He felt behind his neck still musing over the fact that he wasn't paraplegic and that he'd been restored because of his Shinigami abilities; then, his face got dark thinking about Nui, and cursed loudly again. "I got in the way, and I knew they wouldn't let me go after her… Aw, damnit!" Sachiya smacked his open hand down on the table in frustration. Useless!
Tsuzuki's smile faltered a bit, feeling sympathetic towards him for losing his partner in a blunder, but switched his mental gears quickly knowing his mission rested on banishing the demon; however his mind wandered worrying about the stubborn and vain smoker, since Hiroshi seemed to have moved on already. He grinned brightly. "Then we'll save her."
His boss-lady stepped in then, curtly asked Tsuzuki and himself to join her with Kurosaki in the meeting room ASAP.
My eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Could this guy think any louder!
The woman in charge of the Reincarnation Department, Imano Kacho, gave me an apologetic look and stated that Kato was a natural projector. I wanted to scream.
/I mean, Shade, look at the perfect proportions and the cut of the face on them. What a tragic waste/
Kato kept a running dialogue with himself in his head for crying out loud!
This fourth day of my size I was quite accustomed, yet very ready to be my original self next morning. I crossed my arms sitting with the most physical buffer-distance between us I could manage, throwing up as much mental shielding as I could handle, but somehow his dimmed thoughts still managed to leak through. I barely registered Tsuzuki sitting down next to me, much less the worried look he gave me.
I gritted my teeth, trying to pay attention to Imano's debriefing of the situation, until I received a very strong mental picture of a youth with eyes nearly black in color and a feeling of noxious fear and loathing that nearly knocked me out of the chair. Clutching my head, I couldn't stand it anymore.
The chair clattering on the ground, Tsuzuki glanced down before focusing on his partner's tense face, apprehensive and ready for an explosion he knew was coming.
Finally snapping, Hisoka roared, "ENOUGH!" Weighing against the table, eyes ablaze, he leaned forward threateningly at Kato. "Shut your mind up or leave. Now."
Gaping, Kato's mind, for the moment, quieted from its incessant babbling, sufficient for Hisoka to relax minutely. He was already on edge from that damn dream about his partner; he didn't need some errant projector mucking up his concentration on a serious subject further.
Clearing her throat, Imano Kacho pulled out a fuda and handed it to her Shinigami subordinate. "Hold onto this."
And there was blessed silence, Hisoka slumped back into his chair, upright now courtesy of Tsuzuki, sighing and kneading the side of his head. He pulled his arm away from Tsuzuki when he tried to touch it reassuringly. He certainly didn't need any part of his partner coming in contact with him right now. Feeling somewhat rejected, Tsuzuki cheerfully thanked the department head on his partner's behalf, giving a dark look at Kato. He got a startled, confused look in return.
"I apologize about that Kurosaki-san. I wasn't aware of how sensitive you've become." She gave a respectful bow, and Hisoka nodded at her in acceptance of her apology. "Also, don't worry about abandoning your post when I sent out a messenger for you, I also sent one to.."
Maintaining a tight grip on the talisman his boss gave him since the honey-wheat blond frightened him when angered (though his shorter dark-haired counterpart seemed to be capable of being just as terrifying if Sachiya could judge by that look), Kato yawned and leaned against a hand, trying to remain attentive even as tired as he was. He still wasn't sure what Kurosaki-san had meant by shutting his mind up; something to do with ESP? He gave a mental shrug to himself. There were stranger things he learned since arriving in Meifu. Sachiya let the conversation between the two Shinigami and his boss run its course, not wanting to piss anyone off at the moment.
Tsuzuki asked, "So, what's the name of the soul that was supposed to be retrieved before the demonic intervention?"
Kato's ears finally perked up.
Oh that's easy…
"Shidou Saki." He muttered impulsively.
"Come here ayatsuri.." Arms halfway opened, and the boy stepped into them to be partway embraced. "Your performance was superb. Was her energy to your satisfaction?" Nimble fingers roughened with years of carving brushed softly over the boy's unmarred features, deep pools of blue darkness staring adoringly up at the aged face of his keeper, completely silent.
"Good… Nosy people will meet a messy fate as the solitary cat who became too curious."
A blankness settled over the boy as he was once again was discarded on the large chair as the storekeeper dragged the severely mangled body back into the woods…
The demon, eyes churning with colors of twilight and sunset, watched in amused malice as the old man marked the body with a seal that would keep it from being found and dumped it into a deep hole that was already carved out courtesy of the puppet-child, burying the pasty white corpse.
What a fool. It breathed in contempt, eyes looking past the material walls of the building at the precious soul housed within the flesh of its flesh, awaiting the moment where it would claim its prize.
Tsuzuki blinked at the familiarity of the name mentioned, but couldn't place a finger on where he knew it from. He glanced over at his partner who shrugged in reply.
Before Kato could elaborate further, Imano set two thick files down in front of them. "This one is the original file given on the soul to our Shinigami agents, and this one is what the field agents reported on surveillance and intelligence-gathering. They found no trace of Nui, and that Shidou Saki escaped with the puppet- and dollmaker, one Kan Haseo , who apparently also dabbles in Necro—"
Turning inwardly, Hisoka tuned her out, eyes narrowing at the mention of that name. Coincidence? How likely was that? About as likely as it is for Tsuzuki to find trouble.
"Is he recently widowed?"
Imano shook her head. "No, and we aren't sure where the current body that hosts the soul came from either, though we suspect it's at least part demon…"
"Kan traded his soul for the perfect puppet?"
"We aren't certain of that either. My agents think there is a third party involved other than the demon that is contracted."
Snorting, Hisoka rolled his eyes. It couldn't be Muraki… It doesn't seem like his style to mess with demons.
"Oh and something interesting came up while we were researching the fella. While his soul had disappeared for 16 years, he's been dead for eighteen. Nui never mentioned anything about that discrepancy. The first two years he eluded the Shinigami sent to retrieve him, which is unheard of."
She surveyed their faces for any comments or questions, before continuing.
"He died in Tokyo not long after his father and step mother. He had been taken in after his mother and stepfather died from shot wounds when bullets pierced through the walls of the adjacent building during an armed robbery there. However, his stepbrother is still alive and well. Perhaps you could get some more information on the soul we're dealing with from him?"
"We'll ask the Gushoushin; what's his name?" Hisoka said.
Imano never hesitated as she stated his name and his current whereabouts. A funny look overcame Hisoka's face. Muraki!
"Muraki did it!" Tsuzuki slammed his hands on the table anger pouring out thickly, finally remembering where he heard that name.
'I'll remove your head and take revenge with Saki's head attached..'
As she looked in the mirror, Wakaba pushed her bangs back behind her ears, loving her new ribbons that Terazuma got for her; Kuro-chan had momentarily gone nutso on the last case they had been on when a group of schoolgirls had suddenly swarmed Terazuma remarking how similar he looked to their current music idol, whoever he was.
Thankfully, she had distracted them by pointing out a short frail-looking, yet attractive enough man who's back was to them and squealing out "GACKT-SAMA!", and as expected the horde fell upon the man in a cry of adoration. Meanwhile, Wakaba grabbed the back of Terazuma's coat and dragged him to an alley to transport both of them at once. Just in time too with a loud beastly roar, her grumpy partner transformed into his shiki, KaGanKokuShunGei, who then attacked her regarding her in her schoolgirl clothes as a threat. She stopped the fire shikigami with a quick slap of a fuda to its forehead, and her partner was suddenly back, but not before a fireball singed her.
Her old ribbons had been half burned away along with the hair that was missing past her shoulders and pieces of her outfit that got caught in the fireburst. These new bright green ribbons not only were better than the pair of pink ones she had before; they even tied themselves, which was a relief. They looked like thin ropes when they weren't flattened out into strips of paper-like material. Nevertheless, she named them Gira-kun and Toka-chan, respectively.
He dealt with Watari-san to get them. She thought with a smile evoking the memory of her often misunderstood partner mentioning that they were fireproof too. Running a hand over them in her hair, she giggled when they purred in unison green shimmering from light to dark undulating.
Pleased with how she looked, she stepped out her quaint apartment, and went not more than two meters to the right to Hajime's door, knocking briefly. "Hajime-chan!"
They shared the same floor of the 2-story duplex, out of necessity's sake of course; no point in having Kuro-chan unleashed onto the populace of Meifu when it could be helped.
The lower floor had a vacancy and the other one-room apartment was taken by an elderly woman who owned the local bakery and sometimes gave Wakaba discounts to buy sweets to take to work 'for that nice young man'.
"Quit yer yelling. I'm coming." A gruff voice met her ears, the natural squint of his eyes made him appear mad all the time; he shut his door calmly holding a jacket casually over a shoulder, pocketing his other hand.
"Thanks for Toka-chan and Gira-kun, Hajime!"
He snorted, lips clutching the lit cigarette and taking a breath, then exhaling. "Take care next time. You could've been hurt worse."
Holding her hands together behind her, she grinned up at him. "Oh Kuro-chan didn't mean to! Don't trip over yourself in worry." She winked. "You're acting like your rival."
"WHO SAID I WAS WORRIED! I'm not like that IDIOT Tsuzuki and he's not my rival!"
Wakaba giggled, then, before he had the chance to get riled up enough to transform, calmed him down by saying he most certainly was not like their coworker. She received a grouchy silent look that read that he was unamused.
As they walked, a breeze gently fingered at her hair softly, and her ribbons rearranged themselves in her hair like a couple of purring, flat snakes basking in the sunlight. Terzuma with his hawk's vision noticed the movement; she merely giggled at his somewhat weirded out look as they walked into the Judgement Bureau.
"Success!" was the first word that popped out of Watari's mouth, finally conscious from the day-before's lab explosion and in the medical ward.
However, the shadow master was none too pleased. "The two are out on serious business in Godotenrincho and yet you destroy your lab once again because of your recreational hobbies?"
"No nono! You don't understand I—"
Tatsumi was losing patience quickly. "I understand fully. You created the antidote as ordered. Now all that remains is for you to deliver that, your admittance of fraud, and an apology once they finish their assignment."
Face back to normal smooth and unspoiled by wrinkles, the genki scientist sat up and the blankets fell away revealing a curvy figure; Watari's face was infused with the most joyful expression, though why, well… everybody familiar with his ardent potionmaking abilities knew why.
"I did it!"
Frowning, the impassive secretary grew still as stone, mouth slightly agape behind the hand that adjusted his glasses. He couldn't believe that that could be called an 'antidote'…
A quiet chuckle disturbed his thoughts, slightly mad with joy he was sure.
"I'm sure Bon wouldn't mind testing it out!"
Tatsumi's mouth twitched in annoyance.
TBC.
A/N. 'Toka' and 'gira' are phonetic sounds for 'gleam' and 'glitter', though they are always repeated depending on the intensity. For example, someone unsheathes a sword and tokatoka is written across the panel; means the sword is gleaming, all shiny-like. Meanwhile, giragiragiragiragira would be a decadent dazzling, glittery display of something showy.
If anybody has any questions or comments feel free to email, PM, or leave a review. I'll be sure to get back to ya.