Knock, knock

As soon as his fist made contact with the gleaming oak doors of Jasper's mansion, Zavier regretted his mission. Not that he'd had any choice but to go-he'd promised Raguna, after all. A lesser man would've forgotten one little detail of their tear-filled conversation in the snow. Not Raguna. For somebody with amnesia, he sure had a perfect memory when it came to things Zavier wanted him to forget. In fact, Raguna was perfect in many ways. He saved young children from danger, talked to his turnip sprouts, and didn't gag when Zavier's mother called him cute. (Her son lacked that amount of self-control, however, and spent the duration of that evening ill on the sofa.)

"Well? Are you going to come in or not?"

Zavier was startled out of his thoughts by the heavily-accented voice of Tabatha, Bianca and Jasper's maid. Well, he guessed she was just Jasper's. With her tan skin, full figure, and striking head of blue hair, he looked different from most of the girls in the area. Raguna said this was because she was an elf-Zavier wouldn't know. He wasn't the one that'd seen her without her little maid-hat on-much less anything else.

"Ah...yeah," he said, his cheeks burning under Tabatha's scrutinizing gaze. "I am." Zavier took a step forward, but the maid didn't budge.

"And what, should I tell Mr. Jasper, is your business here?"

"Business? Oh, I'm not selling anything..."

Tabatha sighed. "No, I mean why do you wish to see him?" If her elven upbringing had not taught her to be as respectful as possible towards others, she probably would've added 'you blockhead' to the end of that sentence.

Zavier shifted uncomfortably. "It's important. Just-please." He paused, trying to use his 'cuteness' (as his mother so often put it) to his advantage. How could you say no to an innocent kid? "Trust me."

"Alright." As Tabatha disappeared inside the house once more, Zavier paused to grimace. Had he really stooped so low as to make puppy dog eyes at somebody?

Raguna'd better be damn thankful for this, he thought, as he followed Tabatha down the hall to the study.

Jasper was large man in many ways: in presence, influence, and girth. Not a good combination, especially when you intend to inquire about his deceased daughter.

"Well?" said Jasper, his voice as loud and obnoxious as his outfit. "Don't just stand there gawking. What do you want?"

"It's...well, it's sort of private," said Zavier, glancing Tabatha's way.

The elf's eyes widened. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I think I need to clean up the breakfast dishes." With a polite curtsy, she was gone, but Zavier was willing to bet she was eavesdropping through the door. Women were sneaky that way.

Jasper crossed his arms (an amazing feat, if you thought about it) as if to say 'I'm waiting'. Zavier cleared his throat. Should he have taken off his hat? That was probably the polite thing to do. But he never took it off, except when he slept, and then nobody saw him anyway. Hat or no hat, he decided to press on. "It's...it's about your daughter, sir."

Zavier watched in horror as Jasper's doughy face turned pink, then red, then maroon, and finally an alarming shade of purple. He got ready to duck in case any furniture was thrown. "...Bianca? Why?" He sounded so sad, so shattered at the mention of her name that Zavier would've felt bad for the man if he hadn't looked like he was contemplating sitting on him and having pancakes for lunch.

"We're looking for information about how she died." He prayed Jasper would not inquire into who 'we' was. "For...you know, legal things."

"I don't see why you need more information," hissed Jasper, keeping his voice low for once. "We know everything there is to know. That bastard killed her, and I'm going to make [i]sure[/i] he pays."

"Raguna didn't kill her." The words were out, escaped from Zavier's lips with a life of their own, before he could stop them. Keeping him out of Greed cave, forcing air back into his lungs, stopping him from becoming Jasper's pre-brunch snack-all those things were supposed to be Raguna's job.

Jasper didn't explode or snap anything in half-Zavier included. He remained calm, his dark eyes glittering menacingly. Which was ten times as frightening. Zavier shrank back, Toros cave monsters suddenly seeming as friendly as an old college chum. "I don't know what he's been telling you, kid, but you tell him that it's going to take a lot more than that to change my mind. I can't have my little girl back, but the man who took her away is the next best thing."

Zavier decided that Jasper's speech was meant to convey "get out before I turn you into a strudel", or at least something pretty close, so he did just that. In his haste to remain un-flattened, he opened the study door so sharply that he disturbed Tabatha, who just happened to be dusting the baseboards. She tried to shoot him a sympathetic glance. Zavier scowled in return.

Despite how cold it was, as soon as he left Jasper's abode, Zavier felt as though he could breathe easier. He hadn't convinced anybody that his friend was innocent, and it was quite obvious there were no suspects there. Suspects were what he was aiming for, after all. Surely, though, Jasper was the toughest case. Someone had to be on Raguna's side. Someone had to know the truth.

...Right?

"Come on, man, you have to eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"Tori's soup's not that bad!" Zavier paused, peering warily into the rather clumsy pot he was carrying. "Okay, so there's these funny chunks, but you can sort of fish them out..."

"I told you. I'm not hungry."

Zavier sighed. This conversation was clearly going nowhere, except in circles. He just didn't feel like dealing with the moody Raguna. After a morning of nothing but suspicious stares and guarded answers, he was convinced that everybody in Kardia had a sizable motive-the ones he'd talked to, at least. Bianca had not been exactly well-liked; she'd had a special knack for walking into a room of six people and offending five of them in a single sentence. If he hadn't had a headache that felt like an ax was being driven through his skull, Zavier might've realized that taking a slightly less Perry Mason-ish approach to his interrogations might've helped. He could've at least dropped the finger-pointing.

"You can't stay upset forever," said Zavier, using a ladle to spoon a hearty helping of gooey soup into a bowl. He prepared a second bowl, just in case.

"Like hell I can't." Raguna peered down at the sticky mixture in front of him, sniffing suspiciously. "What is this, anyway?"

"Chicken, I think." Zavier took a tentative sip, trying to ignore the scalding temperature. "Yeah. It's not that bad."

Tentatively, Raguna ate a small spoonful, carefully blowing on it to cool it down first-no burnt tongues for him. "On the bright side, it tastes much better than it looks." He grimaced but, thankfully, kept on eating.

"Tori said it's enriched with antioxidants to help you feel better," Zavier continued, blowing on his bowl so hard that little droplets of soup splattered all over Raguna's nice white tablecloth. "I told her you weren't sick like that, but she wouldn't listen. It's good to eat it, anyway. We wouldn't want you to get as skinny as me."

Raguna had a strange look on his face, probably mourning the loss of his tablecloth or wondering why his friend was babbling so much. "Nobody's as skinny as you," he pointed out.

Zavier scowled, choking down more of Tori's concoction. At least his sister believed Raguna; she'd had a hopeless crush on him for ages. Hopeless because he was not the type to gallop in on a white horse, sweep a girl in his arms, and carry her off to happily-ever-after. Raguna was more of a sweep-you-off-to-happily-for-a-week-or-two. Or sometimes for-a-night-or-two.

To put it as simply as possibly, his best friend was a total player. Zavier tried to overlook his one breach of character, but it bothered him much more than he liked to admit. He couldn't care less about most of the girls Raguna did, anyway, which only made his annoyance more baffling.

"So, how's the plan going?" After a long night of brilliant brainstorming and careful planning (alright, so he'd asked Tori for help), Zavier'd finally realized how simple it was: find the real murderer. Only it wasn't. Simple, that is.

"Not so good," he admitted.

Raguna set down his soup, brow furrowed in concern. "How bad is not so good?"

"Pretty bad." This was the first time Zavier'd seen Raguna without all his farming getup-tool belt, partial armor, the works-, and it made him look different. Smaller, maybe. He wondered if the lose blue shirt and gray pants were his pajamas. Who went without shoes in the middle of winter? Zavier shook his head. Why was he thinking about Raguna's wardrobe, anyway?

"Hey, what are you looking at me like that for?"

Zavier's cheeks burned. "I wasn't staring!"

Raguna laughed, or tried to. "I never said you were." He finished off the remainder of the soup, reclining comfortably in the ornate dining chair. Maybe Tori'd been right about him getting his spirit back. "No need to get so uptight, Zav."

"Oh, no. Not that again!"

"Huh?"

Zavier grimaced. "...Zav," he said finally. "Don't call me that. It sounds so juvenile."

"You're a juvenile," said Raguna. "Besides, it's a cute nickname."

"Maybe you're just old," snapped Zavier, reminding himself not to pout. "And, ew, you sound like my mom."

"I like your mom."

"Aw, man, you're way to young for her! Don't even begin to get ideas." Zavier shuddered at the thought, which was far too gross to even picture.

Raguna's eyes sparkled mischievously, as they always did when he was messing with somebody. "I thought I was old." Zavier tried to shoot his friend a death glare, but he had a feeling it didn't work out so well, since he just laughed. "Don't worry. I'm not getting ideas about you mother." He paused, the happiness fading as quickly as it'd come. "Damn, I miss her." Zavier didn't even have to ask who he was talking about. "I've been with a lot of girls but she...she was different. I actually cared what she thought. It was impossible to impress her, but that didn't stop me. I kept trying to...prove myself, I guess, even if it would never be good enough. You know what I mean?"

"Not really," lied Zavier. Deep inside, though, he did know what Raguna meant. It sounded just like him, trying to prove that he could fight, that he could explore, the caves just as well as Raguna could. Trying to measure up, even if it was never going to happen. No, he told himself. It's not the same. Not the same at all.

In the awkward silence that followed, Zavier began to wonder: why had Raguna put so much emphasis on your mother? What, was he going to get ideas about somebody else? Why was he still staring, anyway? Zavier tried desperately to look away, to focus on something, anything, but Raguna's big blue eyes, which remained locked with his as he began to lean in slowly, getting closer and closer to his best friend.

Zavier's heart was pounding, the sound ricocheting throughout his entire body. He could move away, he could say something he could stop him. But he didn't. He didn't want to, he realized.

Raguna's lips were inches from Zavier's, so close that he could feel his breath as it tickled his cheek. As he slid a hand around his friend's narrow waist, there was really no question about it anymore. Raguna was going to kiss him.