Apparently he was still not used to having a lodger in his home, because Kurogane felt even less rested as he woke up on this the second morning of Fay's stay. He could already feel the promise of a headache, which was probably going to break out just in time for lunch, lying in wait just above his right temple. Fay was awake before him again, judging by the barely audible rattling coming from the kitchen, and somehow it felt like something that almost resembled a routine was taking form. A routine that probably would require him to wake up at least half an hour earlier if he was going to drop Fay off at Tomoyo's office, he soon decided as he looked at the clock.
Cursing he got into his clothes, out to the kitchen and managed to cut Fay's good morning greeting off by telling him that he, Kurogane, expected him, Fay, to be ready to leave the apartment within fifteen minutes, or he would have to find the way by himself. In the end it took a little more than twenty, which was the black haired man's own fault. It wasn't like someone used to make breakfast for him, and Fay's cooking was actually really good.
And since it was her fault to begin with, he stated as he took his jacket from the hanger and hurried down the stairs with Fay close on his heels, the witch would have to accept him being a bit late today. She would probably make deductions for it from his wages any way.
He could tell that Fay was tensed; probably he still waited for Kurogane to change his mind and decide to keep him away from Tomoyo. But even if that still was his actual wish, Kurogane could understand that he had once again been putted out of play by the two sly women, and he kept on asking himself why. It was Yuuko who was the actual culprit, he was sure about that, and Tomoyo was more than happy to do the witch a favour as long as it could annoy her former body guard. What kind of reasons Yuuko had was a mystery and if he knew her right, she would prefer to keep it like that.
"I have no idea about how long Tomoyo is expecting you to run her errand," he said, glancing over at Fay, as they stopped by a traffic light, "but my work ends at 5pm, I'll come to pick you up then."
The thin man flinched as if he had managed to forget that he wasn't alone in the car but he recovered quickly so that he could once more serve him one of his plastic smiles.
"I'm sure that Tomoyo-chan will let me leave as soon as it suits you, Kuro-sama," he said, "after all, the true purpose with this job was to keep me occupied when you're at work, right?"
Of course he knew that, and of course Kurogane knew that he knew.
"Don't you mind that?" he asked in the same moment as the light turned green and he swung the car left into the street along which Tomoyo's company lie.
Fay shrugged.
"I wouldn't have had anything to do when Kuro-sama is at work anyway," he said, "and I don't mind spending the day with such a cute girl as your Tomoyo-chan…"
Kurogane snorted. He himself would have hated to spend the day anywhere at all if it was only because someone else wanted to keep him out of the way.
"I really don't get you," he said settled, "how can you be so indifferent to your own life?"
He stopped in front of the huge building, white, painfully familiar building. It had already been two years but it hadn't changed at all since then.
Fay turned towards him and flashed him an even brighter smile than usual.
"It's not like that," he said, "I'm really glad that Kuro-sama lets me stay by him. He even cares enough to ask me about how I feel."
The black haired man swallowed down the frustration building up inside him. Most of all he wanted to grip the other man by the shoulders, give him a good shake and ask him what the hell it was that had made him become like this.
Instead he turned away.
"You better get inside," he said, "Tomoyo is waiting for you and I'm already too late for work."
"Ah," Fay opened the door and stepped out, "later then, Kuro-chan. There is a lunch box in your bag, I hope you like it."
He waved a little before disappearing through the doors.
Different questions haunted Kurogane on his way to the police office. He was quite sure that he was good at reading people, but it was something with Fay's irrational ways that made him almost impossible to construe. And he couldn't help that some of the contempt he had felt towards the man was now turned towards whoever it was that had forged him into this freaking porcelain doll he now was. He wondered slightly if Fay used his apartment as a hiding place or if he simply didn't now where else to go. Would he ever come to trust Kurogane enough to let him know what the hell was going on, or was he simply going to stay put, waiting for fate to catch up on him? Probably the last alternative since that was what he had been doing in the cellars as Kurogane found him.
He hadn't even reached his desk before one of his colleagues told him that Yuuko wanted to speak to him, immediately. Promising that he would turn and leave if it was only about the fifteen minutes absence, he put down his stuff by the desk, adding to his mental note that he wouldn't have to waste money on whatever mediocre food the staff café was offering that day.
His boss sat comfortably leaned backward, as confident as if her cream coloured office chair had been a throne, a lazy smile on her lips and the ever presenting pipe in her left hand.
"Good morning, Kurogane-kun," she greeted him cheerfully; "since you're not often coming too late I assume that something delayed you?"
He glared at her.
"Is that all?" he asked irritated, "I have better things to do than playing your bloody games…"
The raven haired woman sighed theatrical.
"My, my, Kurogane-kun, you really have no faith in me at all… I just wanted to ask you what you which conclusions you have made during those 'private investigations' of yours…"
He sank down in the chair opposite his boss.
"Not much," he admitted, "I could as well try to get information out of a gold fish, only that the fish wouldn't smile at me like a damn idiot all the time. Can I assume that you had a good reason to send me those papers?"
Yuuko took a long drag from the pipe and let the smoke slowly ooze out between her thin lips.
"Of course," she said, "you really didn't doubt that, did you?"
"I guess not, and of course you won't tell me why this time either…" he clenched his teeth, "you know I hate it when you play with me, Yuuko, and this time you even involved Tomoyo, if something happens to her…"
"Nothing will happen to Tomoyo-chan because of this," Yuuko cut him of abruptly, "however, you need to answer one of my questions before I can tell you anything more."
Kurogane frowned; this woman really had double standards.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Yuuko smiled playfully at him, "if you thought you could save him, would you try?"
He started at her for a moment.
"I don't know," he confessed, "I haven't even got a fuckin' clue about who the hell he actually is!"
"Just that he isn't really what you first thought he was."
"Yeah, something like that," damn he hated it when she read his thoughts.
"Well, that must count as something, I guess," Yuuko said, "I'll set someone else to take care of your duties, Kurogane. There is a list of numbers you ought to call on your desk, please take care of it at once and I'll forget about those fifteen minutes."
"Don't forget to think about an answer for my question," she called after him as he stepped out of the room.
With "a list of numbers" Yuuko had meant a smaller telephone directory, Kurogane found out as he sat down at his desk. And it contained everything from Norwegian police men and hospital personnel to people in authority and inhabitants of the village Fay had, at least theoretically, been born in. What more was, they were all useless… Most of those he talked to didn't remember anything at all and the villagers were all passed eighty and lightly senile. By lunch he had come to the conclusion that the idea wasn't that he should come to realize something by talking to these people but by finding something like a main thread in everything. Once more he wondered what, exactly, Yuuko knew about the whole thing. He did have some suspicions regarding the woman, even if he had never been able to prove them, and now again it was pretty clear that she knew way too much being the person she pretended to be and that her true interests in fact lay somewhere outside of common police work.
After lunch, which turned out to be freshly made pie with ham and cheese (when had the man had time to make that?), he continued to check off the numbers. However, as there were only some twenty-thirty left he felt the frustration once more threatening his common sense. He stood, took his jacket and threw the list in the paper bin; after all, he was a man of action, not a bloody telephonist. Filled up with newly achieved resolution he walked out of the office to get his car, it was time to pick up Fay…