Dark Adaptation

by Hickok

NEW CONTENT ADDED! Bound to the eternal contract, can a life of sin be so easily shed? Muraki has all that he desires, yet so much remains unanswered. What manner of darkness unfurled between the walls of Muraki manor? Muraki x Tsuzuki and Oriya x Watari

4. Watari: Through Another's Eyes

Dark Adaptation.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own it. Don't sue me.

Note: Watari's POV. This rewrite makes a lot of significant changes that affect the overall storyline. The specifics of the murders themselves are different, what happens to the surviving victim is different and of course there are time frame changes. An additional scene was added to the end of the chapter where Ichibana the djinni and bound servant of Watari is introduced and a trip to the bar after Tsuzuki's date with Muraki is organized. That will be added around chapter six! Warnings for the chapter are the usual; some course language, gore and… oh, I don't know, the inclusion of cigarettes. The author does not encourage the use of cigarettes and does not promote them being awesome or being able to make you cool and whatnot. I personally smoke and it is an unhealthy personal choice but I am an adult and I make my own decisions. With that being said; enjoy!

~ X ~

Come with me

We took a back road

We're gonna look at the stars

We took a back road, in my car

Down to the ocean

It's only water and sand

And in the ocean we'll hold hands

But I don't really like you,

Apologetically dressed in the best but on a heartbeat glide

Without an answer

The thunder speaks from the sky

And on the cold wet dirt I cry

And on the cold wet dirt I cry

Don't you wanna come with me?

Don't you wanna feel my bones on your bones?
It's only natural

A cinematic vision ensued

Like the holiest dream

Is someone calling?

An angel whispers my name,

But the message relayed is the same

"Wait 'til tomorrow, you'll be fine"

But it's gone to the dogs in my mind

I always hear them

When the dead of night

Comes calling to save me from this fight

But they can never wrong this right

Don't you wanna come with me?

Don't you wanna feel my bones on your bones?

It's only natural

Don't you wanna swim with me?

Don't you wanna feel my skin on your skin?

It's only natural

(Never had a lover)

I never had a lover

Never had a soul

I never had a soul

(Never had a good time)

And I never had a good time

(Never got cold)

I never got gold

Don't you wanna come with me?

Don't you wanna feel my bones on your bones?

It's only natural

Don't you wanna swim with me?

Don't you wanna feel my skin on your skin?

It's only natural

Don't you wanna come with me?

Don't you wanna feel my bones on your bones?

It's only natural

Come and take a swim with me

Don't you wanna feel my skin on your skin?

It's only natural

~ "Bones" ~

- The Killers

Through Another's Eyes

"A man does not die of love or his liver or even of old age; he dies of being a man." ~Percival Arland Ussher

Watari

I would just like to go on record as saying, that I am not a swinger Tsuzuki. I was only entering my early teens in the sixties, which is much too young, even for me, to be participating in any 'swinging' activities, thankyou.

Just wanted to clear that up.

Tsuzuki's recall of events occurred the night before I became aware of the particulars of his early morning rendezvous. We were all sitting in the Conference Room eating breakfast, when Tsuzuki showed up dragging his feet as per usual. When I say all, I am of course referring to myself, Hisoka Kurosaki, Hajime Terazuma, Kanuuki Wakaba, Seiichirou Tatsumi and the head of the Summons Section, Rokuro Konoe. It came as no surprise to us that Tsuzuki arrived late, looking disheveled and predictably weary. This was a regular occurrence in the Summons Section and one we had all come to accept as inevitable, regardless of whether or not Tatsumi threatened to dock his pay the next time he was tardy.

So there we all were, sipping coffee and munching assorted pastries, when Asato Tsuzuki staggered in, nearly tripping over his untied shoelaces and landing face first in my croissant. I shot him a warning look and pushed the chair beside me backwards as some minor assistance in the tenacious task of seating his somnolent ass down. He didn't even seem to notice the sporadic arrangement of sweets spread out before him, something akin in Tsuzuki's world as not noticing oxygen.

I knew there and then that this was undoubtedly going to be an unusual day.

"I'm so excited!" Wakaba chirped as she sipped her extra strong black coffee and munched on a jam donut. She and I shared one familiar trait; we were both addicted to caffeine. Addicted and suited to being addicted. The younger guardian and I were usually so wired it became something of our responsibility to set the mood for the rest of the group. "My vacation's coming up soon, so I was thinking of heading off to this beach resort in the town where I used to live. It'll be great to get out there to catch the sun and have some re-laxout-ation!"

Terazuma sipped his coffee and scowled. "Well I'm glad someone at least will be having a good time. Because some of us have had our vacation cancelled because someone got them riled and forced someone to slam their head into the vending machine." He cast Tsuzuki a particularly dirty look. The brunette seemed distracted and didn't retaliate with his usually witty comeback. Terazuma snorted and continued. "Some of us don't have to spend the next week in their office, catching up on paper work and old case studies because of their completely 'unprovoked' behavior. Some of us-"

"Hey, back off buster!" I snapped as Tsuzuki sank down into his chair, obviously upset, which was definitely unusual for him. Clearly he was in one of his blue funks and being yelled at by Terazuma wasn't going to improve his depression any. "It's not Tsuzuki's fault that you have trouble controlling your temper. Just like it's not your fault that you tend to change into a grotesque monster whenever you get within two feet of an X chromosome. So really, can we try and keep it mellow this morning, boys? I don't think I can handle watching the two of you trading empty insults across the table."

Since the traumatic events of Kyoto, I felt compelled to mother my fellow guardian when he got into situations like this. But that is simply because Tsuzuki in particular, doesn't stand up for himself! Most of the time, he is so overwhelmed by his insecurities that he tends to let just people walk all over him. On occasion he just needs a little reminder of his own self worth, his own right to be treated accordingly.

Terazuma rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his coffee. Terazuma had blue hair and pointed ears, and though he and Tsuzuki were the same height the shifter was somewhat more formidable in stature. He was serious and sometimes acted like he knew everything, but like most brash people, where it really counted he had a good heart. He was fully devoted to his partner, Wakaba, a protective urge that I found awfully endearing. And enviable.

"Listen, I said I was sorry," Tsuzuki said. "But you should have had the sense not to creep up behind me wearing a sheet. You know how much ghosts scare me!"

Tsuzuki was certainly the most powerful guardian in the ministry to date, if you did not include Tatsumi who was now restricted to secretarial duties and money hoarding. Despite his capabilities, Tsuzuki has this unrivalled knack for getting into and making trouble. Trouble of which he usually needs to be fished out of, lickity split, usually by other agents. Not me however. Though I am undoubtedly the most exceptionally brilliant prodigy of the Summons Section, my charge of Kyoto remained relatively quiet and my duties revolved loosely about assisting the other guardians in intelligence issues and scientific work. The previous nights eleventh-hour shift at the Tachiagari had been the one notable exception in a sustained period of non-activity.

"Back to my vacation!" Wakaba exclaimed, munching on one of Terazuma's donuts. "I think we should all try to take some time off together, so we can have fun this summer! Come on! It's about time we all did something as a group, something outside of work and breakfast. Right, Watari?"

Like Hisoka, Wakaba had become a Guardian at a very young age. She was first employed here fifteen years ago but she wasn't sure if she could ever get used to the line of work. Wakaba was no coward but it seemed like every time you took a wrong turn in this business, you put the responsibility of somebody's death on your shoulders. It could get wearing.

Kannuki Wakaba has long curly brown hair and an energetic attitude. She is one of those people who seem to go through life without a care in the world. Being dead now, didn't seem to defer her in the slightest.

I grinned and raised my cup. "You've got my vote! Though I don't see why we need to have any more fun than what we do here. At least we don't get bored!" I smiled at Tsuzuki and winked. "Though I wouldn't mind having some time to myself every once in a while. I enjoy my own company."

"I don't know how you ever came to that conclusion. Considering that you've never spent a night alone in your entire life, not to mention death." Terazuma remarked, taking a long sip from his coffee.

Tatsumi linked his fingers and set them daintily upon the bridge of his nose. "Oh wonderful. Here they go, taking up the slack for Tsuzuki's lack of attention."

I sat up straight, set down my cup and glared at Terazuma.

"And what exactly do you mean by that, Hajime?"

The blue haired man also set down his cup. It was on.

"What? Has all that bleach corroded your brain? Think blondie. It is pretty damn clear what the Hell I'm referring to."

"You just have to keep on running your mouth off because you're not in touch with your inner sexuality." I retorted, leaning across the table. "And my hair color is natural you freak! I'm a halfie!"

Terazuma shrugged. "In more ways than one. This is coming from the man who chose to be bisexual because it was the only way he would have access to 100 percent of the human race. At least I've chosen a team to play for you equal-opportunity bimbo."

I bristled. "People like you are the reason that society is close minded and superficial. Simply because you are threatened by alternative lifestyles and cannot accept them, you openly chose to discriminate against them. You're being extremely homophobic condemning my sexual preferences."

Terazuma looked annoyed and I waited for Tatsumi to butt in as he always does. He likes breaking up our morning exchange, when really it is only a bit of fun to put us in the right frame of mind. The shadow master straightened his glasses and moved as though to rise from his chair, when I saw Mr. Konoe shake his head at him. 'Let them be,' he mouthed. Goodie! Finally I would be able to finish one of my altercations in peace!

"Just because I made a remark about your inability to sleep alone, does not mean I'm a homophobe, Watari." Terazuma growled, his grip on the coffee cup tightening. "Besides, what do you mean by 'sexual preference?' You don't have one! You'd sleep with animals if it wasn't illegal and they didn't move fast enough!"

"How dare you accuse me of bestiality!" I snapped.

"How dare you accuse me of being a homophobe!" Terazuma shouted back.

"I didn't say per say that you are a homophobe, I said you had homophobic tendencies!" I corrected smarmily, hands on my hips in a know-it-all-way.

It seemed as though Tatsumi had reached the end of his restraint and put up both his hands. "You are both superb Shinigami, full of vibrancy, open-mindedness and fully in touch with your inner sexuality. Now, would the two of you please stop hurling your empty insults over the table and let us finish our breakfast?"

Terazuma huffed. "Ok. No problem."

I returned to my coffee. "He started it."

"Shhh…" Mr. Konoe cautioned, flickering his finger back and forth between us. "You both started it. And I don't want to hear another peep out of either of you until the conclusion of our meal."

It was precisely at that moment, that I remembered I hadn't turned my phone on and quickly fished it out of my pocket to do so. As soon as the screen lit up, it beeped merrily to inform me that I had a message. Mr. Konoe dropped his bagel and shot me a pointed glare.

"Take it outside if you want to read messages, Watari." He told me. I nodded, muttered 'Yessir' and made my way into the hallway. I trotted out along the dark passageway, squinting in order to see the tiny screen as I brought the message up. It was from Tsuzuki:

"HI! WAS JUST IN A HAUNTED HOUSE! EEK! GOT AWAY THOUGH. NEED 2 TALK 2 U. CALL ME SOON AS U CAN, K? OR SPEAK 2 ME 2MORROW? CYA.

P.S I HOPE UR DATE WENT WELL!"

I laughed a little to myself. Tsuzuki still wasn't quite used to advancing technology and found the use of gadgets like mobile phones a little… complex. Hence the extended use of all caps. I leant my back against one of the stonewalls, wondering what he had been doing in a haunted house of all places…

"Guess you weren't in any state to be checking your messages last night, huh?"

I looked up as Tsuzuki came trotting towards me, his hands buried deep into his suit pockets. I smiled a little apologetically.

"Sorry Tsuzuki. I had… other things on my mind."

"So I figured." He said, smiling knowingly. I sighed and rested my head back against the wall.

"Not what you would think. What were you doing in a haunted house, anyway?"

"Oh that? It's a long story." Tsuzuki ambled over to the wall opposite me and slid down it, into a sitting position, violet eyes staring up at me expectantly. "I was out and about last night and… well, I sort of got called into one." Brushing that aside, he leant forward and wrapped his arms around his knees, giving me his full attention. "So… talk to me of your date! How did it go? Did you end up at a cheap love hotel, or what?"

I groaned as I slipped my phone back into my pocket. Tsuzuki exclaimed.

"Oh, now that wasn't a happy noise, now was it? Details send them my way!"

I sat down into a sitting position also and crossed my legs. "What the Hell is up with men these days anyway?"

His expression was highly scrupulous. "You really don't expect me to answer that, do you?"

Knowing Tsuzuki's track record with men (only one solid relationship, outside of the murderous Dr. Satan himself and I'm not sure that that really counts) I suppose this really was a rather pointless question. The older guardian, though having almost fifty years head start on me, was still chaste, something he had once admitted to me and has regretted ever since. Especially when I adopted the nickname 'Chastity Boy' for him; a title he loathes with a passion.

"So, I have dinner with this guy from the Detriment Section. We head into that nice, not to mention expensive, themedrestaurant I was tellin' you about. I had to pay for everything, whilst he just sat there, attempting to enlighten me on the prospects of inter-dimensional subversive demonic revolutions."

"I thought you would have enjoyed a conversation like that?" Tsuzuki said, picking at something beneath his cuticle. I ran a hand through my long bangs and straightened my glasses.

"I thought I would have too and that is what made the situation so damn intolerable! The man was dead boring. And after all that shit that went down at the Tachiagari too, you would have thought he might have asked me a little something about it, but no! He could have put an insomniac to sleep." I bowed my head a little, causing my glasses to slip down again. I pushed them back up closer to my eyes. "So as I sat there, trying desperately not to fall asleep all I could think about was… well, Kyoto."

Tsuzuki waved a dissuading hand. "Please Watari; you don't need to worry about that. The last thing I need is for you to get all soppy and sentimental on me! Tough it out, man!"

See what I mean? It's all about Tsuzuki. Everything somehow relates back to Tsuzuki, Tsuzuki, Tsuzuki. Kyoto was my charge and every time I mention it now, every time I would be sent off on a mission there, all everyone would ever think about is 'The Kyoto file.' Didn't matter what other… ahem, interesting prospects were in Kyoto. Nope. Because of the 'incident', the place now has an automatic stigma attached to it. I sweat dropped.

"Well, actually I wasn't referring to that, Tsuzuki. I was thinking about a person, in general."

Rather than look annoyed at my lack of sensitivity, Tsuzuki's face seemed to light up. He leaned forward over his knees, the dog-ears and tail integrated into his human form appearing from their respective places. Usually a sign that he was happy, interested, excited or hopeful. I'd often wished I'd thought to do this. How endearing a trait it was!

"Ah, so you've met someone in Kyoto, then?" Tsuzuki asked. His tail wagged happily to and fro when I nodded. "You sly scientist, you! So… what's her name? Or his for that matter?"

I leant back against the wall, hands pressed to my knees and a beaming smile plastered on my face. "Oriya."

Tsuzuki's expression froze. His tail was sucked back into his body like spaghetti; his ears flopped down as if they had lost all their gusto. He stared at me, as though expecting me to announce that I had been joking. I hadn't. He was staring for a long time.

"Oriya Mibu?" He finally asked. I nodded. Tsuzuki's struggled for something suitable to say. "According to the Kyoto report I read… isn't he… Muraki's best friend?"

I shrugged. "So? That's not a good enough reason to condemn someone. You're Muraki's boyfriend, yet you don't see me crossing the street to avoid you now do you?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Said Tsuzuki, blushing. "I'm not Muraki's boyfriend!"

I ignored him, intent on getting my point across. "It occurred to me last night as I was sitting there listening to Mr. Boring insult my brain. Oriya may just be the perfect man. He seems intelligent, he's loyal… he has a killer body…"

"And a killer best friend." Tsuzuki repeated, as though providing an accent to the words would somehow make the implication graver. It didn't.

"You never even met him Tsuzuki and I'm sure that if you did, you would agree with me. Though… it's probably a good thing you didn't, come to think of it. He just struck me as an interesting guy. Dr. Satan's best friend or not, he's… really quite something Tsuzuki. And considering my luck with dating as of late, I would hope that you would support me in this current development."

Tsuzuki stared at me. Then he reached out, took my hands and looked into my eyes.

"He's Muraki's best friend."

I gave up. "Now why is it that I tell you anything?" I wondered, climbing to my feet.

Tsuzuki wobbled into a standing position also and bounced up behind me, grabbing my wrist to keep me from storming back to breakfast in a despondent rage. He smiled a little and waved his hand.

"Watari, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just… worried about you."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Worried about me? Whatever for?" I chuckled.

He shrugged a little and scuffed his feet. "I dunno. You just seem a little… lonely lately, that's all. I mean, here you are talking about chasing after a guy you've seen maybe what… once? You don't know anything about him really!"

The word's stung but I tried not to let it show. Tsuzuki was right… I was lonely. Despite my earlier rebuttal, I'd heard some truth in Terazuma's words also. I wanted someone to be devoted to me, completely and utterly. A person who was loyal and honest, who would take care of me. I was sick of ending up in hotels with superficial, mean spirited men who didn't care for you as a person once they had what they wanted.

I suppose that's what made me think of Oriya.

In the month's following the Kyoto incident, I'd found myself pondering over his reasons for maintaining ties with a man like Muraki. A killer. A cold-blooded murderer with no compassion or empathy for human life whatsoever. Oriya was a… noble man. An honorable man with a good heart and a strong sense of justice.

How someone with such profound gentility could stand by and accept Muraki was beyond my ability to interpret. If one of my friends woke up one day and decided they were going to be a serial killer, I'm not so sure I could support their decision. Yet, Oriya did not support Muraki's lifestyle either. He condemned it. Abhorred what he did, advised against it. But he did not condemn Muraki himself, not even when his own life was endangered because of his relationship with him.

Was it because he was in love with him? Somehow this did not seem to justify Oriya's decision to remain impartial to his best friend's dealings. Truly, it was an unusual relationship…

The only resolution I had been able to make was that Oriya was simply one of those impeccably dedicated and steadfast people, who would remain faithful despite a person's faults.

This, to me, is an incredibly attractive quality. I'd never been particularly reliable in the years I had been alive, so to come across someone who displayed such gracious tendencies was very much appealing.

It didn't hurt that the man himself was tall, dark and handsome either.

Tsuzuki swung his arms back and forth in the air as he paced across the hallway with incredibly short steps. I broke myself out of my dream world long enough to focus my attention on him. When Tsuzuki did this, it usually meant that something was on his mind. If I needed to be absolutely certain, all I would need to wait for was for him to start sighing.

Tsuzuki sighed.

"Ah ha! I know that sound!" I crowed, waltzing over to him and pointing directly between his eyes. "What's bothering you? Come on, spill the beans…"

Tsuzuki nervously wrung his fingers, cracking the knuckles out of habit. It didn't take much to persuade him to talk this time however, something of a new development in Tsuzuki's psychological profile. He was usually as difficult to crack as a walnut with your teeth.

"You bringing up Oriya just now… it reminded me of… something else."

"Hey… what's the matter, Tsu?" I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He moved out of my grasp only to keep pacing, making mild gestures with his hands.

"Last night… M-Muraki called me."

Suddenly all the lights went out. Red emergency alarms began to flash from all corners of the hallway. Guardians in full riot gear proceeded out the doorway, carrying various occult weapons and high-powered machinery. Blood began to rain from the heavens. The earth split open and demons crawled out from the fissure and began to consume all the breakfast sweets, not to mention the guardians that had been feasting on them. The angels screamed in mortal dread and wept in sympathy.

Okay, not really. All that happened was a damn near fatal crapping of ones self whilst I struggled to keep from passing out. Tsuzuki's expression was suitably malign.

"He's still alive?!" I gasped.

The brunette nodded. "Oh yes. Very much alive as he so kindly proved to me last night."

That was it. I was going to war. Tsuzuki jumped in shock as I whipped my writing pad out of my pocket and had in seconds constructed an effective (if not shoddily drawn) block of wood with three nails sticking out the top of it. I stormed towards the door, brandishing it threateningly.

"Just tell me where he lives Tsuzuki and I'll take care of it. Don't you worry about a thing!" I exclaimed courageously.

"Uh… Watari…?"

"Never fear! I'm on the case! NO ONE and I mean NO ONE takes advantage of my little Chastity Boy and gets away with it! I tell you, I will TAKE HIM OUT!!"

Tsuzuki's cheeks flamed red and he quickly leapt in front of me, blocking the door with his arms and legs. I shook the stick at him.

"Watari, take it easy! He didn't molest me! And don't call me Chastity Boy." He added.

I paused in the task of perfecting my indisputably famous Genghis Khan swing of doom and stared at him dubiously. "We're talking about Kazutaka Muraki, right?"

"Yes."

"Well then, he molested you." I established firmly. "Muraki is a molesterer. A sexual molesterer. He sexually molests people, you in particular. I'm not sure how he managed to over the phone but-" Something clicked, like a key in a lock. "You were at his house last night, weren't you? That was what you meant by haunted house isn't it? You were speaking in code!"

Tsuzuki ran a hand through his hair. "He summoned me there; it wasn't like I had much of a choice! And the house really was haunted. …I wasn't speaking in code."

"Muraki summoned you? Seriously?!" I was bewildered. "Surely you had your anti-summons tag cast, didn't you?"

Tsuzuki looked sheepishly at his shoes.

"Tsuzuki…?"

"It might have… hem… slipped my mind…"

I rolled my eyes. This boy had to have the most slippery mind on the whole damn planet. His brain would slip out of his ear if he titled his head too sharply.

"Wonderful." I said. "Well, this Muraki fellow certainly is bright. For a mortal to learn the technique of summoning a Guardian, despite how stimulating he seems to find your presence… very impressive…"

"You have this nasty habit of flattering our enemies." Tsuzuki said, frowning. "I don't care how he did it, but he did it because he wanted to make me a deal."

"I'm guessing something in that deal involved the expenditure of your virginity…" I muttered, loud enough for him to hear. Tsuzuki slapped my upper arm, hand enough to leave behind a handprint. I rolled up my sleeve and watched it fade away as my healing ability kicked in.

"Don't get cute, Watari. That situation I got into last night was very informative, despite the involvement of Muraki himself. I managed to learn a few things you might just be interested in."

"Such as?"

He considered for a moment and then jabbed his fist into his opposite palm, as though resolving something.

"He wants to see more of me, so he's going to play nice from here on in. Or so he says. As a… token gesture I suppose, he promised to remove Hisoka's curse by the time the sun came up. If he does well… I'm supposed to go to dinner with him tonight."

I took a moment to consider this, before coming up with a nippy observation.

"You're an idiot." Said I. "One small gesture of good will is not enough to compensate for a lifetime of murder, rape and pain. The agony he has caused dozens, possibly hundreds of people cannot be undone so easily. This… removal of the kids curse, is only a drop in the ocean. A tiny, insignificant expenditure to him. Practically nothing. He is not to be trusted Tsuzuki. I forbid you to go."

Tsuzuki blinked and scratched his chin. "What, so you're my father now?"

"Yes." I said without hesitation. Tsuzuki rolled his eyes.

"Watari, I feel the exact same way you do. But Muraki knew that was how I was likely to feel and more so, he understands that he cannot hope to reconcile himself by one small act. I think it is the safest route to take. At least this way, our job will be easier, huh? We can cut down on the number of deaths."

I nodded and took my glasses off, in order to rub my tired eyes. "And what exactly do we have to give in return for Muraki to act like an altar boy?"

I knew exactly what Muraki would have required in exchange for his good behavior. But I wanted to see Tsuzuki's own feelings on it, his own opinion. The dark haired guardian shifted a little and sank his hands back into his pockets, hunching his shoulders forward. Coupled with the dark clothes, it was fairly easy to see that this posture reflected a man who liked to shade himself from the rest of the world. It was a non-approachable, guarded façade and one that seemed to serve him all too well. Honestly… if Tsuzuki had some idea of his own sexuality, he could be quite dangerous. I think Muraki understood this perfectly and used the guardians' ignorance to his advantage.

"He… well… he only said that he wants to be near me whenever he… feels the need to kill. The curse he put on Hisoka it's… part of a curse that someone else put on him. He was trying to get rid of it piece by piece because it makes him act violent or something like that." Tsuzuki rubbed his forehead. "He's kind of hard to understand because he talks in riddles all the time. But from what I gather, my presence seems to help him counter the curses effect. That's all he wants… in exchange for the surrender of his previous life."

I stifled a snort. How convenient that Tsuzuki was the only thing able to prevent Muraki from taking to people with a carving knife. A little too convenient if you asked me. Such an elaborate scheme would not be unexpected from the doctor, as far as I knew about him.

Tsuzuki stretched, raising his arms high above his head. In my hand, the block of wood gave a shudder as though it were alive and then slowly faded from reality. My ability to bring inanimate objects to life could use a little fine-tuning. If I spent more time on the field and less in my laboratory, perhaps it would be a tad more reliable.

"I need to see if the curse is gone from Hisoka's body, but I'm not sure how to go about asking him." Tsuzuki muttered, casting a glance back up the hallway towards the Summons Section. "You know how sensitive he is about these things."

"Just leave it to me, Tsuzuki!" I chirped, patting my chest in that trustworthy and approachable way I do. "All it takes is a little bit of tact! Tact, as you may or may not know, is my middle name!"

"Yutaka Tact Watari… well I can't deny it doesn't have a certain ring to it."

"Ah! Perfect timing!" I squealed as the door to the Summons Section slammed. Hisoka approached us, solemnly as per usual, his hands mirroring Tsuzuki's as they receded deep into the pockets of his too tight jeans. Hisoka was a cute kid, but having died at sixteen, he had that strained, pinched look of one who had grown too quickly for their body. He looked as though White Tiger and Touda got into a tug of war over him, stretching the kids' body clumsily, before both discarding him as though he weren't worth their time. His straight mousy brown hair hung in perfect symmetry about his face, highlighting his youthful features. Despite his quiet demeanor however, I'd learnt through personal experience that Hisoka is a suitable force to be reckoned with. Or at least, treated with an appropriate amount of respect. I felt a sort of big brother affinity to him.

"There he is!" Tsuzuki, the Observant One pointed out, a minute after I had already announced his presence. He leaned close to me as though sharing a conspiracy. "Now be subtle. If he knew what happened last night-"

"No need to lecture me Tsuzuki, I will be as discreet as discreet can be!" I boasted, brushing out my lab coat lapels. That being said, I discreetly skipped across the room towards the young guardian, who looked up immediately at my discreet presence. "Hey kid! Take your clothes off!"

Hisoka backed up a step. "Excuse me?"

"I said SUBTLE!!" Tsuzuki all but bellowed. I waved a hand at him.

"I'm doing some research into the field of Sorceries Signs, Symbols and identification marks." I told the green-eyed guardian, who was starting to back away from me with discouraging speed. I was forced to match him, edge for edge. "I would never think to ask you, but you're the only person I know to be inflected with a curse as such. All I need is to take some pictures, peruse the markings, and track the structure, shape, length, width and so on. Will that be all right with you?"

Hisoka blinked at me for a moment and thankfully halted in his retreat. His large, Bambi eyes fell to the floor like Tsuzuki after one too many drinks.

"Kid?"

"I… I'm sorry… ordinarily I wouldn't mind but… something weird has happened to my markings. I woke up this morning and… not only could I not see them but I couldn't feel them anywhere." His eyes met mine and then shyly trailed back to match Tsuzuki's suitably stunned expression. "I think the curse is gone. I thought maybe it meant that Muraki was dead but it's not like we have any way of knowing. I was actually going to see if you could still detect it… if you have the time that is."

My fingers lightly cuffed him on the chin and I smiled. "I wouldn't mind at all. Come by the lab whenever you're ready and we'll get everything checked out for you."

"I'm sorry about your research." He apologized, looking positively sincere. I waved a hand.

"Oh well… no big deal. I can always go back to my sex change potion I suppose…"

Both Hisoka and Tsuzuki chuckled appreciatively.

"Oh, Watari-san? Konoe-Shacho asked me to call you back in." Hisoka said, quickly returning to his 'purely-business-somber' attitude. "A request for a case just came. It's 6th district, Kyoto."

Oh be still my foolish heart. Field work wasn't exactly my most favorite past time, but now the very mention of Kyoto sent bells ringing between my ears and almost everything came out smelling like a white mushroom. Hisoka simply stared as he followed me back towards the Conference Room, Tsuzuki, smiling knowingly, as I hummed my new theme song; "Love is the drug for me."

As we approached the door to the meeting room, I noticed that a slender dark haired man, (whom I took to be a messenger from another department,) was leaning close to Mr. Konoe, talking hurriedly into his ear. They both looked up as Tsuzuki, Bon and I entered and seemed to prematurely finalize their conversation, the messenger handing over a thick folder, indicating to something inside before then offering a brusque bow and excusing himself. I flashed him a brief smile as he made to leave, noticing how his light brown eyes clashed with his pitch-black hair and that he looked somewhat familiar, though I couldn't quite place him. He returned the smile and then was gone. And that was that. I couldn't imagine anymore could have come of such an encounter but as you will see, that was hardly the end of it at all!

Thanks to our little rendezvous in the hallway, breakfast had all but concluded by the time we made it back into the conference room. Most of the plates had been cleaned away, except for one dish containing a tiny inoffensive pastry of some sort, my half eaten croissant and coffee cup. Tsuzuki leapt upon the pastry like a dying man and immediately shoved it down his esophagus, almost taking off his hand whilst he was at it. Terazuma held up his hands as though to shield himself.

"Sheez… someone should feed that poor beast, before he fades away to a block of flats." He joked sarcastically. Tsuzuki tried to thrust and parry with some minor rebuke, but only managed to spray crumbs everywhere.

The Elder Gushoshin had since joined the party as well as 003, which gave me plenty to think about as I tried to fathom how in the hell he managed to sneak into the room without my knowing. Deciding it wasn't worth it I called him over to perch upon my shoulder and started to feed him some crumbs from my plate. As per usual, Tatsumi and Mr. Konoe chose to ignore my affinity for feeding my pet at the table and continued to stand importantly beside the laptop the blue donned Gushoshin was tapping away at.

"So, I have a case do I?" I asked at last. Tatsumi straightened up and began to fuss through the file the messenger had delivered. It looked to me as though it had been hurriedly prepared. It was obvious the case had only just come in, otherwise Tatsumi, immaculate man that he is, would have taken the time to neaten up the file. At least to shove those unattractive white pages that were exploding out the sides, out of sight.

"That's right." He confirmed. "An unusual request at that. It's from a mortal, someone who knows about the Ministry's existence."

"Hmm… How's that possible?" I questioned, scratching my chin. 003 noticed that I was being inattentive and flapped his wings against my ear until I began feeding him again. "Who's the client?"

"Oriya Mibu." Tatsumi concluded with a dramatic air of significance. "That acquaintance of Muraki's. You should remember him from the Kyoto case."

Did I ever! Suddenly old Watari's luck had taken a turn for the better. The urge to throw myself across the table, kiss Tatsumi and scream commandingly for my plane tickets so I could leave immediately was almost unstoppable. Still, leaping in the air and uttering a hormonal 'YAHOO!' might seem a tad ungainly for a guardian with audacious qualities such as myself. Instead, I mentally tucked away my joy for a later date and merely nodded with as much dignity as I muster. It was difficult when I had just come to the conclusion that I was suddenly and undyingly in love with my client.

"Apparently, he's Muraki's best friend." I established, casting a momentary glance over my shoulder. Tsuzuki saw me grinning and blew a raspberry at me. I didn't care. I was in too good a mood now to let anything ruin this for me!

"Right. So, you'll be handing intelligence from here at the ministry, processing and analyzing any information that the deployed Shinigami may come across." Tatsumi informed me as he shuffled the papers a little bit.

It was at this point that I flew across the table and attacked him. Well, all right not really. I just gaped at him in a sort of hopeless, pathetic way.

"You want me to stay here?" I all but sobbed. Mr. Konoe formed his fingers into a temple shape and studied me from across the peaked digits.

"We thought it would be best. You're not fond of field missions after all and really, you're not all that experienced working on cases without the additional aid of other guardians." He told my tear-streaked expression. "If we deployed you, we would need to send a Gushoshin to back you up and due to your… well, non-combative powers, we need to consider what would be best for the case. You do your best work in intelligence, Watari. You've solved some near to impossible mysteries here at the bureau and that's why we've chosen to send some other guardians in your place."

"Plus, the client requested specifically that you were not to be assigned to his case." Tatsumi added considerately.

"Wow. Sounds like he really fancies you." Tsuzuki jabbed sarcastically from somewhere behind me. I spun in my chair and glared at him.

"You shut up, Chastity Boy! Shacho! Tatsumi! Did he really ask that you not send me?"

"Well on his request form, he stated:" Tatsumi paused to consult the contract. "Please do not send the blond one."

I blinked sadly, thoughts of love and devotion spiraling down the plughole. "He really said that?"

"Obviously doesn't know about your reputation, Wat's." Terazuma said, thumping me on the back supportively. "Ah well. His loss! If you were the one working on this case, I think we could be damned sure that the Kokakuro would go up in business! He doesn't know what he's missed out on."

I raised my head, encouraged by his sarcastic sense of humor. "He must just be playing hard to get! That's the only explanation!" Satisfied at my conclusion, I proceeded to negotiate with Mr. Konoe and Tatsumi in that reverential and civil way I am renowned for.

Much staring ensued as I belly crawled across the room, hands folded in prayer. "Please, please, please don't make me do intelligence work! I really, really, really wanna take this case. My powers are much stronger now! I can make my drawings hold their shape for four minutes maximum. I know I can do it, if you would just give me a chance to prove myself every once in a while! Don't stick me here in the office please Shacho. I want to be doing hands on stuff!"

"Oh I just bet you do." Tsuzuki intoned from across the room. I did my best to ignore him, concentrating on getting my 'You-can't-refuse-me-because-I'm-too-sad-and-pathetic' face as flawless as possible. Unfortunately, not being Tsuzuki, it doesn't always work on Tatsumi.

"We must respect the clients' wishes." The secretary stated, sliding his glasses up closer to his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his legs and sobbed into his trousers.

"But I WANT to take this case!" I insisted, using Tsuzuki's tactic of speaking like a big dumb foreigner to get my way. Tatsumi looked embarrassed as he tried to dislodge me from his limb. I held on tight. "You have no IDEA what it's like being stuck here in the office all day! I never get ANY sun, I look like a white lily, my amazing skills are going to waste, I never GET to MEET anyone-"

A cough came from Terazuma's direction that sounded distinctly like; 'Bullshit.'

"PLEASE TATSUMI!! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE lemme take this case!" I began to cry to provide the crowning touch and 003, concerned by his masters' mournful behavior, began pecking Tatsumi on the head. The secretary shot Mr. Konoe a fleeting, pleading look.

The chief raised his hands. "Fine, have it your way Watari."

I stopped crying immediately and jumped up, flinging my arms about my head in jubilance.

"YES!" I ran over to the boss and started wringing his hands gratefully. "Boss, you ain't gonna regret it. I guarantee it!"

Mr. Konoe seemed unusually morose about his decision, but I put it down to him doubting my abilities. I would simply have to ease his mind by proving he had made the right decision.

"Gushoshin elder will be accompanying you to the Kokakuro tomorrow morning. You are expected to be on sight at six-thirty sharp, so do yourself a favor and not dally tonight." Tatsumi enlightened me. I saluted and danced over to Gushoshin, striking a complimentary pose.

"We'll be like birds of a feather!" I sang. Everyone groaned and 003 clapped his appreciation of my superb wit. Tatsumi handed me over the much-disheveled folder and frankly, looked quite pleased to be rid of it.

"All the information you need is in that folder." He exclaimed as I sat down to quickly peruse it. "Client contract, case details, eye witness reports. The whole shebang. Because the Ministry is unknown to the public, we have no choice but to find alternative means of explaining our agents' presence at the scene of a crime. Officially, you are to be filling in as a part time receptionist."

Meaning I would have to be doing a lot of bending down in front of Oriya. I smiled and made a note to self to buy some suitably tight pants.

"The case itself concerns the murder of three geisha's in Mibu-san's service." Tatsumi explained, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "The inclusion of a demonic symbol in the room in which they were found, suggests that this crime may in fact be supernatural in nature. The three women were found by one of the servants. The murders are described as being abnormally vicious."

"How so?" Terazuma enquired, his brow arched high into the lines of his forehead.

Tatsumi reached up to adjust his glasses, though they hadn't shifted an inch from the bridge of his nose. "Generally, Japan is not renowned for a significantly high crime rate. And yet, in the past twenty-four hours we have experienced two cases of supernatural murder of the most monstrous nature. Last night, agents Tsuzuki and Watari were sent to investigate a disturbance at the Tokyo Metropolitan Tachiagari Library. A total of thirty-eight lives were lost and from that total only one soul was recovered. The rest were irretrievable; reportedly devoured by the demon responsible for the outright decimation that occurred within the library."

I swallowed deeply as our fellow Shinigami absorbed this new information, looking to Tsuzuki and I in a mixture of awe and concern. Tatsumi cleared his throat before continuing.

"The un-sub enforced an extremely elevated level of mana radiation in order to reanimate the deceased corpses and draw low level formless demons into the then vacant bodies. All physical nutrients were drawn from the deceased, as well as their souls. The main office relayed to the department this very morning that the demon in question is undoubtedly of the soul eater variety and the attack on the library was a means of increasing its' powers in one succinct act. In addition, the demon was able to use an unidentified spell to delude the innocent masses into witnessing horrific scenes that triggered violent survival impulses. The humans turned upon one another and many were needlessly slaughtered. The Ministry is currently working with the Japanese government to devise a means of explaining the attack in a logical manner." His deep blue eyes slanted seriously behind his glasses, as he looked to us one at a time. "I feel it is quite needless to inform you that this was a devastating move by the Rogue Underdwellers that far besmirches the reputation and reliability of the Ministry as a whole. Watari-san, Tsuzuki-san," He inclined his head in our direction. "Both myself, the Chief and the Head Office applaud your valiant efforts last night to contain the situation. I have no doubt you did your utmost to detain the suspect. With that being said, the clean up will be segregated to the Concealment and Censor division. High-ranking agents from the Containment Sector have been rounded up to continue the investigation and permanent detainment of the rogue. The samples you gathered at the scene last night have already been forwarded to their department, Watari-san." Tatsumi informed, dipping his chin in my direction. I waved my hand lazily, none too fussed about having that particular workload taken off of my hands.

Hisoka's brows furrowed as he lifted his gaze from the table and turned it on Tatsumi. "Forgive me if I'm being plainspoken, Tatsumi-san but how exactly do the murders of these geisha relate to the Tachiagari incident? You suggested that they were both vicious and possibly supernatural in origin but you have not yet elaborated on the connection between them."

Tatsumi took a moment to needlessly adjust his glasses again. "I do not presume to suggest that there is any certifiable connection between the occurrence at the Tachiagari last night and the murders of which took place in Kokakuro. I mean only to convey the coincidence of two such brutal slayings of this nature occurring on the very same night. The slaughter of these three women were of an entirely separate character to that of the Tachiagari victims." He gestured for me to return the folder and with a delicate finger he lifted the cover. I watched his eyes move from top to bottom as he read aloud the victim description report, deployed by the Ministry coroner possibly no sooner than an hour prior to our meeting.

"The first victim; female obviously. Age approximately estimated at mid-twenties. She suffered a frenzied assault; thirty-nine reported stab wounds had been inflicted from her throat to her lower abdomen. The slice to the abdomen was particularly vicious and part of the womb had been removed."

Wakaba sat down heavily in the seat beside me and dropped her forehead down into her hands. Tatsumi glanced over the top of the folder at her, for the most part expressionless.

"Wakaba-san, if this is altogether too taxing for you, you are free to leave the room at any point."

Wakaba forced her face up out of her palms and offered him a shaky smile. "No, no, Tatsumi-san, I shall be fine. Call it a woman's empathy if you will." She appeared unusually contrite. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to interrupt you. Please, continue."

Tatsumi gave her one last lingering look and seemed to conclude that her constitution was settled. His eyes returned to the page in front of him. "The second victim. Early twenties, believed to be approximately five feet two inches in height. Death was caused almost instantaneously by a cut to the throat. Scrapes to the spine indicated the implement used to inflict the attack cut deep through skin and subcutaneous flesh, down to the bone itself. Such as the first victim, her abdomen had been compromised. A thin blade was believed to have been inserted into the vagina and then tugged violently upward to split the womb from the inside out and open the abdominal cavity entirely."

I set down my coffee cup and used my free hand to clasp Wakaba's fingers, for she now appeared incredibly shaken by the recount of the murders. I pondered to myself how my prospective darling was fairing at this juncture, witness first hand to the gruesome deaths of these women in his care. I barely knew him of course and was yet struck by the most profound and overwhelming instinct to seek him out and console what surely at this stage was a broken and deeply wounded man.

Tatsumi cleared his throat once more and took in the room to see I suppose how we were fairing. His eyes lingered for a moment on Tsuzuki, whose downcast eyes surveyed the line of the table blankly and then Wakaba, who had removed a handkerchief as surreptitiously as possible to dab the tears that had started to slide down the sides of her cheeks.

"How are you all dealing?" He questioned at point. We, all of us, made some indication that we were managing so far, though even Chief Konoe himself appeared unusually morose and solemn. Any case that involved the violent deaths and mutilations of women were never exactly high up on our 'Whoopee' meters. Terazuma leant with his back against the doorways wooden border, arms crossed and rocking back and forth every once in a while. He had been a detective in life and yet that experience goes little towards preparing one for this field of work.

"The third and final victim," Tatsumi continued, closing the folder to questioning glances. "We have yet to receive the full details of her condition." He motioned to the Gushoushin who immediately set up a linkage between the laptop and a projector system, using a remote system to lower a screening curtain into place over the far wall. "Jun Takamiya is due to contact us shortly, to relay her findings." Jun, a Chinese-Japanese woman in her early thirties, was one of the three Ministry coroners. The other two I imagined, were still examining the bodies of the Tachiagari victims. "Gushoushin, be sure to patch her through right away."

We idled for a while as the Gushoushin went about making contact. Soon enough, Jun's image was appearing on the viewing screen, her chin length black hair pinned back neatly by a series of clips. I could see what appeared to be a garden in the background, so he had obviously adjourned outside in order to make the connecting call. She was an alternative kind of woman, with dark make up, long blood red nails and a pallid complexion that put one in mind of the corpses she seemed to so eagerly hover over. I imagine that poor Mibu-san was none too comforted by her presence.

"Hello my freaky little darlings," She said as way of greeting. "Just wrapped things up here and I'll be driving back to the Ministry shortly. I've emailed you photos of the crime scene as well as the victims report. Oh yes and I've currently placed an 'Embalmment' charm within the room in which the bodies were found. This will keep their condition moribund until your employed agents arrive and conduct their own investigation. No need to thank me."

"What does 'moribund' mean?" Tsuzuki whispered, leaning over the table towards me.

"Dormant," I replied turning back to Jun's innocently smiling visage. She certainly enjoyed her work far too much for my refined tastes. "Jun, might you convey the condition of the third victim for us, if you would be so kind?"

Jun smirked in the midst of removing all her hair slides, allowing the previously restrained tresses to swing down about her face again. "You Shinigami, straight to the point as usual. I'll give you the lowdown but I warn you; it ain't for the lighthearted. I've had to keep the poor chap in charge here from entering the room. Do his heart no good, I would imagine."

Again, I found my heart panging painfully for what that dear fellow must have been suffering. Wakaba's fingers loosened in my own considerably as she leant around Tatsumi to face the screen.

"Jun-san," She enquired timidly. "Are you meaning to suggest that the third victim is in a worse state than the previous two?"

Jun appeared morbidly delighted. "My sweet girl, not a one of them is in any fit state to be gazed upon by the inexperienced eye. But I can inform you that she is indeed in a most sorry state of affairs, even compared to her two friends." She tutted softly to herself as she picked up a piece of paper with handwritten notes. "The third victim. Mid-twenties. Bruising about the throat indicates that she was first strangled before her throat was cut. The incision was deeper this time; by and by I believe that the assailant actually attempted to remove the dear girls head, such was the damage to the spine itself. Her abdomen was entirely laid open and her intestines had been lifted from the abdominal cavity and arranged about her shoulders. The womb itself had been removed by the killer and has not been recovered at this stage. This suggests that our mad hacker has perhaps scarpered off with it. God only knows what he means to do with it."

"Any other noticeable injuries?" The Chief enquired, looking entirely as though he wanted very much to leave that question be. Jun perused her notes, lips pursed together tightly.

"Something strange…" She finally intoned. "I can hardly tell myself whether this particular affliction occurred as a result of the frenzy or if it were intentional."

"And that is?" Tatsumi politely enquired.

Jun indicated behind her right ear. "Behind the shell of the right ear, each of the three victims have a thick but insubstantial cut. As though a blade were pressed against it for some duration of time." I felt an involuntary shiver down my spin at these words. Tsuzuki looked up from the table for the first time during Jun's summation.

"Any evidence of sexual assault?"

Jun shook her head immediately. "No."

I raised my brow. "You sound reasonably sure."

"That's because I am reasonably sure. Whatever the cause for these murders, I'm certain that sexual assault played no part in it. It was violent and calculated. As though the killer meant to leave and enter the room quickly. And yet, whoever it was, was able to remove organs that are very difficult to locate, so we may be looking for someone with some medical background or experience in the field at least. And if it's not too presumptuous of me to offer my opinion, I believe you may need to look into the history of the fourth victim."

"There was a fourth victim?" I asked.

Jun's eyes found mine. "Yes. She received the most minor of injuries. A shallow cut to the throat, insubstantial cuts and bruises. She was intentionally left alive, whilst the three others were slaughtered mercilessly, perhaps by more than one assailant, owing to the speed in which they must have orchestrated the attack. There's a possibility this attack was meant to frighten the surviving girl. Some aspect from her past might very well reveal more." She shrugged her narrow shoulders. "This is only the uninformed postulation of a crypt keeper however. I'll leave the guess work up to you fellows."

Konoe inclined his head. "Thankyou, Takamiya-san for a job well done. Have a safe journey home."

The Gushoushin ended the live feed and we all turned inward to face one another again. Not a one of us appeared the least bit assured by any of what we had just heard. Even I had my doubts about taking on the case, Mibu-san or no Mibu-san. The Tachiagari had been enough to give me nightmare material for the next ten years of my afterlife, let alone what these Ripper-esque murders were likely to do to my mental state.

Tatsumi clucked his tongue as he re-opened the manila folder to a very audible groan from the rest of us. Could there possibly be more to this ballistic debacle? "Cuts to the throat have now been determined as the initial COD. Further mutilation upon the bodies was reportedly conducted following expiration of the victims." He indicated for the Gushoushin to raise the viewing screen and then uncapped a marker pen with which to write on the now revealed white board. "The bodies of the three victims were aligned within a pentagram like symbol that had been scrawled upon the floor within the center of the room." He drew a crude representation of the symbol, which appeared to be composed of four parts and used arrows to indicate where each of the bodies had been situated. "Apparently, their blood was mixed with chalk powder in order to create the substance with which the symbol was drawn."

"A common practice, particularly in olden times." I muttered, more to myself as I drew the folder back towards me and glanced over the case study. "Some societies used to mix blood with the mortar when building castles, believing it strengthened the foundations and dispelled evil spirits, preventing them from taking root on the land. Then of course, blood is also believed to be used as an offering to draw the attentions of a particular Underdweller and the foundation upon which a contract is formed."

Mr. Konoe nodded. "We have considered all those options, of course. The girls apparently bled out in minutes. Our reports tell us that judging by the time rigor mortis set in, it appears that the women were dead at around four A.M this morning. Their souls haven't yet turned up on the Kaiseki and we suspect that they have remained attached to Kokakuro itself. The two primary purposes of this investigation is firstly; to retrieve the souls and guide them to Hades for sorting and secondly; if possible, to identify the killer; if there is some supernatural connection. If not, we will contact the authorities up above and hand investigation over to them. There's not much more we can tell you."

Gushoshin gestured from over by the laptop. "Watari-san. Takamiya-san has sent through some photographs of the crime scene. Would you care to take a look now?"

Mr. Konoe started to rise from his chair, his hand extended as though to stop me. "I don't think that's really necessary, Gusho-"

"Yeah, let me see." I said, picking up my coffee cup and taking a deep sip. The liquid was luke warm but the caffeine helped me focus, regardless of its temperature. I kicked my chair out and went over to Gushoshin, leaning down a little in order to see the screen clearly. Tsuzuki, Hisoka, Wakaba and Terazuma crowded round behind me for a sticky beak.

Gushoshin brought up the minimized screen and clicked on the arrow at the bottom of the page. It was an overview shot, showing the entire room as a whole. The symbol, though somewhat obscured by the bodies and blood of the three girls, was vaguely familiar, though I had little idea just how recently it was that I had seen this very sigil. It was composed of four sections by a black cross and intricate daemonic lettering trimmed the border. A voice tutted from inside my spectacles as I glanced over the photographs.

"Sad that, ain't it? Looks ta me like-"

"Hey shut up Ichibana, I'm trying to concentrate." I told the djinni. I gestured to Gushoshin. "Continue."

This time, the photo showed a close up on the face of one of the victims. Her expression was frozen into a premature version of terror, as though she had seen the blade that had been about to end her life but had no time to scream before she was dead. She was beautiful, but then again, most geisha's are. One sees so many stunning women working at establishments such as Kokakuro that they almost don't seem to register anymore. The next picture was of the second victim. Whilst the first victims' hair had been a dark dyed red, this woman's was jet black and she was clearly younger than her predecessor. She looked as though she had barely left her teens.

"That's awful." Hisoka hissed and Terazuma gave him a strictly 'he-man' comfort pat on the shoulder. I took another sip of my coffee as Gushoshin brought up the face of the third victim. It was a blonde girl and for a moment, I choked on my coffee thinking that it had been… well, her. She looked so similar… the same colored hair, the same eyes…

I could feel Konoe watching me, carefully gauging my reaction but I gave him none. Only when Gushoushin displayed the fourth and final picture; another girl in Oriya's employ, whom had survived the attack, did it finally become apparent just why he had been so apprehensive about my accepting the case.

Taken from the hospital, her eyes shut, apparently comatose. I recognized the distinctive ligature marks about the neck, as though rope had been bound about her throat in order to hold the back of her neck tightly against something. Lateral examination revealed a thick cut behind one ear, as though the blade of a knife, or other sharp weapon had been held there to encourage her to lay still…

But it made no sense… this couldn't have happened. It wasn't possible!

Why she was there at Kokakuro in the first place was a mystery to me but what disturbed me even more was those distinctive wounds, indicative of someone who was long since dead… long since removed from this world.

I'd made sure of that myself… so that this terrible thing couldn't happen.

How…? How could it?!

It made no sense! Not even in this world, in this world of the dead!

That's when I lost it.

I choked on my coffee and Tatsumi was immediately at my side, slapping my back in an attempt to dispel the liquid that had taken a wrong turn down my windpipe. Mr. Konoe moved around to our side of the table and slapped the screen of the laptop down, in an attempt to hide what was already too late to conceal.

I had seen it.

I understood then, why he had been so apprehensive about letting me take this case.

I couldn't stand it. As I coughed and spluttered, I dropped my cup and it shattered on the floor, sending porcelain scattering in all directions. Tsuzuki grabbed my arm but I forcefully shoved both he and Tatsumi off of me, staggering for the door. I needed air. I needed to get away from her face…

I made it out into the Summons Section and staggered toward one of the windows. However, the familiar feeling of my stomach cramping made me change my mind at the last minute and I veered off towards the toilets instead. I was making strange noises, violent, acidic tasting hiccups that seemed to roll directly out of my throat. I had never felt this ill before in my life. Not even those drunken incidents that had me lying on the toilet floor screaming; "I wanna die! Just let me die!" Moaning, I kicked the door in and tried to make it to one of the toilets. My stomach cramped again and I realized I was just not going to get there in time.

"Shitfuckshitfuckshitfuck-" I chanted the abusive mantra as I literally hurled myself at one of the sinks, hitting the edge so harshly a light powder flew up. Pain flickered down my arm, blood settling into the valley of my lab coat elbow and then my stomach kicked out its' contents in one, painful thrust. I gripped the basin with one hand, clutching my stomach with the other as I vomited violently, my eyes prickling with tears.

Someone came in behind me and I felt a hand touch me lightly on the center of my back. I sniffled, my eyes blurred with moisture as I tried to stand.

"Fuck…" I whimpered and threw up again. There went my breakfast and coffee all at once. My body heaved three more times, each movement producing an almost drainage effect in which the vomitus fluid merely leaked from my throat. I sobbed desperately, my fingernails scratching the porcelain as I attempted to get up again. Mr. Konoe, standing behind me, cupped his hands beneath my armpits and tried to help me onto my feet. At the last second, I balked, my cheeks extending dangerously. I tried to hold it all in but my body betrayed me, and I collapsed back on the soiled sink as I continued to regurgitate, though there was nothing left in my body to throw up. My stomach pressed in on itself repeatedly, as though trying to purge any tiny bit of moisture left in my body. I gagged and heaved, but the little that came out was transparent with the density of saliva. Still it was a full minute before I was able to coax my body to relax.

"God… please, no more Oh God… no more…" I begged and cried, burying my face against my arm. Even in the darkness of my sleeve, I could still see her face.

I whimpered, my face crumpling like a sodden tissue and I felt Mr. Konoe press his clean handkerchief against my chin, mopping up the residue. His coarse voice felt strangely reassuring; like a father soothing his child after a nightmare.

"Shhh…" He hushed, stroking the crown of my head as he wiped the white hanky across my lips. I made a soft noise of protest but he simply waved it away. I hiccupped, turning back toward the sink, gazing at what little I could see of my reflection in the wall mirror. I looked as shitty as I felt.

"It was her, wasn't it? It's been too long… I barely recognize her… but… he must have… somehow he still managed to…" I whispered, praying that someway, somehow I was wrong. Mr. Konoe didn't lie through. He sighed and I saw him nod in the mirror. I moaned in desolation, sinking my forehead into my sleeve again. There was a tingling sensation on my arm as my cut healed, the blood continuing to drip from the white material of my coat.

"Oh… no… God no… It's not… possible! He's dead, isn't he, Konoe-san?! You swore up and down to me that he was gone!"

"Watari, it's the same as I told you then. His name is on the Kiseki. He's been gone a long time."

I waved my hand about erratically, not really caring about where I was directing my attentions.

"But the signature pattern… it's the same! The very same! And he said… he said he was going to go after her! Once I was gone… that's what he said!" I whipped my glasses off and swiped my hand furiously across my eyes. "This is punishment! He's punishing me for trying to stop him!"

"Watari, now come on. You're being hysterical." Konoe slapped my back roughly, in order to help me steady my rattled constitution. "I checked myself; unbeknownst to anyone else." He quickly assured, noting my concerned expression dart upwards in the mirror. "The name hasn't been removed… he rests. In the eternal quagmire; if there's any justice. Besides, the presence of the sigil isolates this as a possible supernatural case. What we're looking at here is most likely a demonic copycat, who, unfortunately, probably aimed to finish his work."

"Oh great." I said, rubbing the heel of my hand into my tired eyes to temporarily soothe them. "As if one of him wasn't bad enough."

Konoe chuckled humorlessly, his large rough hand continuing to make circles on my back. "Now you can understand why I didn't want you to take this case. I was just trying to protect you."

"Where is she now?" I asked, thinking I would perhaps go see her. Konoe's eyes met mine in the mirror.

"She's been transferred to a treatment facility in Hokkaido, for the time being, until her condition is stabilized. I should warn you… I know what you're thinking but it's against strict Ministry policy to interfere with surviving relatives. And I strongly discourage it under any circumstances. Do you feel it would be fair for her, after everything she has been through, to have you step back into her life? The shock may be too much for her to handle."

I knew he was right and that it was selfish in any event to even consider just sneaking in for a look at her face. It would only spur on the temptation to do so again and again… who knew where it might end? A guardian that clung to the remnants of their former life was a pitiful thing indeed. They became so entrenched with reminiscing on the past and returning to the side of their loved ones that they couldn't move forward and do the duties they had been assigned when granted that second life. And when a Guardian of Death couldn't do their job, people got hurt… people died. I'd heard of Shinigami who had done such a thing; tried to return to the side of his ailing mother and the shock had been so great, it had caused her heart to fail.

No… it would have been selfish to impose on her life, after so long, even if I did wish to see her. To hold her, ease the aching marks upon her neck and swear that I would never let anyone harm her again…

Oh death was an unfair thing, sometimes… and supernatural though we are, our emotions are subject to a very human process at the best of times. We want to be selfish… and oh, we want to love more fiercely than even the living. But just because we want to, doesn't always mean that we should… Sometimes, you have to make the difficult choice for yourself, if you know that it is the right choice for those with whom we are most concerned with preserving the sanctity of.

The living; from which we were long departed.

So I nodded and smiled, in the hope that Konoe understood that it masked a pain too great for words.

He smiled gratefully and then hefted a weary sigh. "Yutaka… I know Kyoto is your district but I really think you should reconsider taking this case. It's a little too close, if you know what I mean? I can put other agents on it… perhaps you should take some time off, think things through. Get your head together."

"No." I insisted firmly, shaking my head. Mustering as much strength as I was able, I pulled myself to my feet and twisted the tap in the sink on; washing away the mess I had left. Mr. Konoe pulled me away by the wrist.

"Don't worry about that. I'll get someone else to clean it up."

"It's fine." I said, returning to the sink. I looked at him in the mirror, my eyes red rimmed and my throat and chest burning. Regardless, I appeared determined and resolute. That's how I felt. "With all due respect sir, don't be ridiculous. Would you let someone else take this case, if you were in my shoes?"

I could see he wanted to protest but he saw my point. He rubbed his forehead, thick eyebrows creasing down over his small eyes.

"No." He said at last. I nodded.

"Then get those other agents to check up on her every once in a while… just to make sure this creep doesn't have another go. As for the girls who were murdered… I'm sorry, I know you think it's unfounded but I still can't help but feel that this is my responsibility somehow. I gotta at least make a good go of it." I met his eyes sternly in the mirror. "Sir, I promise I will not let my feelings get in the way of this case. I'll remain impartial, no matter what."

"Watari, with all due respect, you are the one being ridiculous now," said the older man, lowering his hand to his side. Seeing my head hanging low encouraged him to cross the room and squeeze my inside elbow. "All right. I'll approve you as lead investigator in this case. We've titled it the Kyoto Cleaver. You know all the usual procedures and the specifics of your employment are all issued to you in the file. Mibu-san will be hosting your stay and as the client, we have an obligation to share any information we uncover about this case with him. Keep that in mind."

I nodded. "Understood, sir."

There was a silence as Konoe-Shacho sort of gingerly held me, as he would a glass sculpture. After a moment he released his grip on my arm and tapped me gently on the ribs.

"Good. Now, I want you to go home and take the rest of the day off. Get yourself prepared for the trip tomorrow. I'll send Gushoshin over to your apartment so that the two of you can leave together, bright and early. I'll have agents attend to the young ladies condition in coordinating shifts. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Thank you, sir." I murmured and watched as he slowly left the bathroom, casting one more worried glance over his shoulder as he went. I smiled and waved at him, an assurance that I was feeling better and he didn't have to worry. As soon as he had left, my fellow guardians all traipsed into the bathroom to make sure that I was all right. Though I was still despondent over what I had seen on the computer screen, it didn't take me long to start cheering up, especially when Terazuma and Tsuzuki started fighting again and Wakaba began tickling 003's belly, causing him to roll about the table with birdie laughter.

Once I had returned home I spent a good 10 minutes brushing my teeth and then I crawled into bed to watch TV. 003 sat watching me from his perch in the corner of the room, his head cocked grumpily to one side as if asking what the hell he was doing home when we were both supposed to be at work. I gave him a piece of sponge cake to tide him over and was then able to watch the television in relative piece.

Though I wasn't really watching it at all. There were too many other things on my mind.

There was a tall dark haired man, with dreamy dark brown eyes and questionable alliances with psychopaths.

And there was a girl. A girl with eyes the color of amber, beset within a sleeping face. A face I had not seen for twenty-four years.

The living enigma. The quiescent memory.

I wished I could have seen myself through another's eyes; it might have given me a better idea of what step to take next. To my great misfortune, this manner of power was hardly my privilege so I would just have to make do with what I had.

The time soon came to let Ichibana out of my glasses and I almost expected it to nick off as soon as it was free to do so. I wouldn't have blamed it; after all, I'm sure it got awfully cramped inside a pair of glasses, even if it did just spend the entire time sleeping. But I think it surprised itself most of all when it instead shuffled into bed alongside me and put its' arm about my shoulders, able to comfort me without saying a single word on the subject.

We'd been together a long time, you see. It knew who she was and how hard it was for me to stay put and not go running up to Hokkaido with a fruit basket and a hundred declarations of love to constitute for twenty-four years of outright absence.

Ichibana… how can I describe it? Well, to say that it is… well, an 'it' requires some explaining for a start. Djinni, you understand, are neither male nor female. Their chosen physical forms are usually such that their features are androgynous and thus, indiscernible from male to female. To be honest, I've never been able to settle on an appropriate gender reference for Ichibana. To say that it is a 'he' is inaccurate, since it possesses more distinctively feminine attributes. But to think of it as a woman, even taking everything else that has happened into consideration… well, I don't know… and it's really rather beside the point, don't you agree?

As for its' appearance… well! You guys know, that to say that it was exquisite would be an understatement. And yet there seems to be no other word that adequately describes it. Ichibana possessed a rare, poignant, exotic beauty that is as natural and warm as it is startling. It is sincerely difficult to tear your eyes away from it.

It is of medium height and curvaceous, with wide hips and legs both long and perfectly sculptured, its' thighs round and firm. It isn't what you would call skinny and it has quite a round backside, that makes its' figure seem feminine, even with its' distinctive lack of breasts. It has spiky plum colored hair, that seems to roll down on either side of its' face. It claimed that this was its' natural color but I'd been witness to the darkening of the roots of more than one occasion, which lead me to believe that its' true shade was actually a rich, deep black. Whatever the case, its' hair clashes beautifully against its' milk white blemish less skin; more pale and smooth than even Muraki's. Its' lips are soft and the most inoffensive shade of pink, poised in that ever present heart shape. It is a mouth that seems entirely invested to the art of kissing and even though it's not my type, I'd often found myself deeply fascinated by the creatures' mouth and what it would feel like to kiss the arch of those lovely lips.

Its' eyes are bright red, almost pink and arched upward at the corners, further enhanced by its' usual gothic eyeliner application. This gives it a somewhat catlike appearance. The ends of its' ears are pointed and it has a long rectangular clasp in the left, though each lobe is adorned with four dangling connected squares, each displaying a suit of cards symbol. It has a total of sixteen ear piercings all up. Its' hair is nape length and tied back by a thin waif of cord, allowing the longer, somewhat spiky but in no means messy clumps of bangs and loose tresses to frame its' delicately porcelain features. If I had to compare its' facial features to anyone, I'd say that they allude to that of the Western actress Catherine Zeta-Jones. It usually dresses in a predominately gothic 'Hot-topic' fashion; ripped clothing, belts, zippers, heels, fingerless gloves… needless to say, our taste in clothing was so similar, that we often went shopping together and had been known on occasion to delve into one another's wardrobe. (Yes, Ichibana and I shared a wardrobe. The djinni was not so much a servant as it was a roommate.)

Beautiful though it undoubtedly is, you could never accuse Ichibana of being cold or conceited. (Though it often adopted the manner of being tougher than it actually was. Truth be told, it's a soft, sentimental old bugger). Ichibana cheerful, sassy and intelligent and despite appearing to be in its' mid-twenties, is actually 425 years old.

For the ease of story telling, I shall henceforth refer to Ichibana by a male gender identity, so as to avoid confusion in speech. Though Ichibana does in fact use a mixture of feminine and male reference when talking, a male ascription for the purpose of our discussion would be easiest, I do feel. This may change as we go along, owing to the circumstances in my dear servants life, as you are all well and truly aware of.

Moving along, my gender indiscernible servant and I sat for a while and talked things over. Morning wore on into midday and Ichibana further surprised me by opening up a bottle of wine and setting preparations for lunch. Well, didn't I feel just bully propping my feet up by the heater and drinking my own body weight in alcohol! After the last twenty-four hours, I felt I deserved a little special treatment and here I was receiving it from the djinni I had forced into contract with me! None too shabby at all.

By and by, lunchtime for the other Shinigami rolled about and my fellow agents started wending their way out of the ministry to parts preferred. Around half past one, Ichibana and I were disrupted in the midst of some irrelevant conversation by a timid knock on the door. I called out to whomever it was to enter and was not the least bit surprised to see Tsuzuki's disheveled head appear.

"Just thought I'd pop in to check on you." Tsuzuki explained, shutting the door behind him and shrugging off his coat. He sniffed the air, something of a bad habit with him, and remarked, "Is Ichibana cooking?"

I nodded, tilting my beer towards him. "Yup. A bubbaganoosh special." Having lived predominately in Germany during his youth, Ichibana often impressed Tsuzuki and I with his German cuisine, which, (regardless of what it was actually called,) we referred to as 'bubbaganoosh.'

The djinni in question poked his head out of the kitchen and waved a dirty Spatchela at Tsuzuki. "Hey Doll-Face, thought I heard yer voice. Ye joinin' us fer lunch?"

Tsuzuki looked slightly uncomfortable and scuffed his feet, flashing me a concerned look. "You sure I'm not intruding…?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, admittedly confused. "Why would you be intruding? Come on in and sit down, you dope. It's not like Ichibana and I are on a date or anything."

"Blondie! The things ya say…" Ichibana sauntered out of the kitchen, frilly apron fluttering about him, spatula in hand and slid his knee into my lap, pushing the line of his chest against mine, lips to my hairline. "Here I am, slavin' away in tha kitchen, cookin' yer midday intake and I ain't even gonna be gettin' any compensation fer it?" His fingers wove through my hair, his groin dipping down to press against my own with a palpable undulation. I made a big point of ignoring him, slipping my arm past his svelte body to bring my beer back to my lips again. "I thought I meant more ta you than that…"

Tsuzuki continued to dither in the entrance for a moment but having known Ichibana for so long, eventually clued onto the fact that he was just teasing and hung up his coat, closing the door behind him. "Smells good, Ichi-kun. What's on the menu?"

"Bubbaganoosh. Isn't that what ye two uncultured turds refer to it as?" Ichibana snipped, climbing up out of my lap and making his way back to the kitchen.

"C'mon… don't pretend ta be all hurt and vulnerable." I laughed, following him to grab a beer out of the fridge for Tsuzuki. "Just tell us what we should be preparing ourselves for."

The djinni mock-scowled over his shoulder, taking a deep swallow from his glass of red wine before turning around to pose in a rather hoity-toity manner, transfiguring a thin French moustache upon his upper lip in order to complete the look.

"Zis following dish, my dear plebeians," He all but shouted in a contritely exaggerated French accent. "Is an exquisite medley known as Duesseldorfer Potato Mushrooms. Made with white wine, potatoes, spices and of course ze onions." He whisked his finger across his upper lip, vanquishing the moustache and returning to his usual accent. "Of course there is the small problem in that I may not be able keep my hands off of the wine long enough to add it to the mixture but as long as the Cabernet doesn't run out, I believe we should be okay!"

I smiled as I tossed Tsuzuki his beer, which he immediately cracked open and took an exceptionally deep sip from. "Ichibana, you are an absolute darling. If I ever say anything rude to you again -"

"Then I'll know yer back ta normal." Ichibana said, smiling warmly to indicate he meant no harm before turning back to the stove. Tsuzuki and I chatted for a while but eventually got off of our well worn backsides to assist, though we just ended up being in the way and were given the veritable bum rush out of the kitchen. We were on to our second beers, just sort of talking nonsense when Ichibana frisked us off of the couch and over to the kitchen isle to eat our lunch.

Duesseldorfer Potato mushrooms were… well, pretty much as the name describes them. Ichibana had halved and hollowed out a number of potatoes to make them look like mushrooms, which had then been pan-fried to a lovely rich golden texture. The hallows had been filled by a variation of fried ingredients such as onions, spring onions, bacon, ham and cabbage. This mixture had then been drizzled with white wine and salt, pepper, cream, mustard and a number of spices that I couldn't have possibly named then, let alone now! A sprig of parsley garnished each delicious creation and a number of thin slices of sea bream fanned out along the sides of the plate, complimenting the meal perfectly. The smell that arouse from each dish was exquisite. If he hadn't been drooling before, Tsuzuki certainly was now!

"Wow, Ichi! This looks great!" He took an incredibly deep whiff with his nose and sighed indulgently. "Man… I wish you were my djinni. Then I could eat like this every day!"

"Ain't those Shikigami takin' care a you, toots?" Ichibana asked, maybe a little smugly as he lounged back against the kitchen cabinets, refilling his wine glass almost to the top. One thing you could say about the three of us; we sure as Hell could drink.

Tsuzuki sighed again, picking up his fork and twirling it nonchalantly. "Well… it's not like they could, even if I wasn't afraid to ask them to! I can only call them up in a crisis situation and when they appear… well, you know, they're not exactly equipped for culinary expeditions if you catch my drift."

Ichibana flashed him a sympathetic look, leaning over to gently swat his cheek. "Kid, I'm happy ta bake ya a meal anytime ya want. Besides, yer always welcome here for 'nosh. Ain't that right, Blondie?"

I nodded distractedly, my mouth bulging with warm delicious food and my mind still whirling with the many things that had happened that day. Her face… not to mention that uncalled for notation from Oriya Mibu! If I were a more sensitive, insecure man, it may just have succeeded in scaring me away for good. As it was, I was now all the more determined to front up there and prove him wrong!

" – gotta give me the recipe." I heard, having just revived from the turbulent depths of my thoughts. Ichibana bit his lip nervously, seemingly uncertain about how best to proceed with Tsuzuki's aforementioned request.

"… yeah… let me sleep on that one, toots." He said gently, flashing me a look that blatantly suggested his opinion on the matter was hardly likely to change no matter how much time he had to think about it. He knew first hand what Tsuzuki's cooking was like and seemed to view his culinary urges in much the way you confront a very angry and poisonous snake; it was better not to encourage it. "It's a wee bit complicated…"

"I don't mind! I really enjoy cooking!" Tsuzuki enthused, having failed to notice Ichibana's reluctant tone. Ichibana flashed me another look, requesting assistance and I chuckled to myself, succeeding only in snorting potato down my nose.

"Well anyway, make sure to eat up you two." Ichibana said, swilling his wine about in its glass before sloshing it back into his gullet in a rather bodacious fashion. "We're goin' out tonight and we ain't gonna be drinkin' on empty stomachs."

"We are?" Tsuzuki said, looking to me for verification. I could only shrug, having only just been informed of Ichibana's plans myself. "On a Wednesday? There won't be many people out…"

"Ah, which means all the more opportunity fer us, eh?" The djinni crowed, taking a big chunk from his own meal and chewing it full bodily to one side of his mouth. "Trust me; this'll be just what the doc ordered! Ye two have got faces longer than a wet weekend and somethin's gotta be done about it!"

"It's because of the doc that my face looks like this." Tsuzuki mumbled, pushing a cube of bacon around his plate with the prongs of his fork.

"Mine just came this way," I nominated, chewing on the last piece of my sea bream.

The djinni groaned, putting his free hand pointedly against the curve of his hips. "Try and show a little enthusiasm, eh? Ye mustn't be this listless when Muraki gets ya in his bed. Which could very well be tonight if everythin' goes ta plan." He ignored Tsuzuki's spluttered protests in favor of gazing fondly out into the middle of nowhere, swishing his wine about his glass to the degree that it almost spilt over, more than once. "The place I'm thinkin' bout takin' us has a 80 percent chance of scorin'. What you both need is ta get out there and get some kissin' done."

"You can actually measure the chance of 'scoring' by percentage?" Tsuzuki questioned innocently. Ichibana responded with an influential and persuasive nod. "Wow… I must be operating on a low percentage… excluding contributions of Muraki and the Count that is."

"Thanks but I'm not interested." I said, taking my plate over to the sink to wash and put away. "I've got too much on my mind."

Ichibana sighed deeply, just to show what a nuisance I was being. "That's the problem with you fella's! Ya get so hung up over the one little thing that ain't perfect in yer life! You," Here he pointed to Tsuzuki. " – all distressed about this Muraki-git tryin' ta get in yer pants and you," At this he gesticulated to me. "Mooning over some guy ye only saw the once not wantin' ta get in yer pants! Now, I am going out to the balcony to have a smoke," He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his denim bellbottoms and held them up at face height. "Ye guys talk it over and let me know what ye decided."

"We've got work in the morning. And Watari has to leave early for Kyoto." Tsuzuki whined but even to my ears it simply sounded like he was searching for excuses now. I shook soap bubbles away from my fingers before drying them on the dishcloth hanging from the oven handle.

"Hold up, Ichi I think I'll join ya." I said, crossing the room to stand by his side at the sliding door. I wasn't a regular smoker like Ichibana but I didn't mind having one of an evening, just as a means to relax. Tsuzuki only very rarely had one but could never seem to take to it. "Tsuzuki?"

My fellow Shinigami nonchalantly dunked his plate beneath the washing water, seeming to consider whether or not it was worth it. In our particular circumstances, smoking and drinking didn't damage our bodies, so it wasn't a health concern that caused him to stipulate. It was, I suppose, force of habit. Tsuzuki hadn't smoked in life and professed to not approving of it, even seventy years ago when the dangers of cigarettes weren't flouted.

"Well…" He mused, scrubbing the remains of sauce from his plate with the scouring brush. "Ah, what the Hell. After seeing Muraki, I could use something to help take the edge off."

"Ja, just don't chug it back too quickly." Ichibana warned, pushing the sliding door open and stepping out into the warm afternoon air. "Last time that happened ya got a head spin and nearly fell off tha balcony."

Tsuzuki chuckled shamefacedly, scratching the back of his head in a rather stereotyped manner. "I'll uh… I'll try and pace myself this time."

We stepped out onto the balcony and Ichibana handed out the cigarettes, which he then lit for each of us with a little fire magic from the tip of his index finger. I drew the nicotine back greedily, feeling my lungs fill and expand before with a relaxed sigh, I expelled the gray fog back into the afternoon air. I thought of another night like this, three months ago, where another man sat smoking, waiting for so many things to happen… Goodness, I was a pathetic man, wasn't I? One glance and I found myself hooked! Could I truly blame myself though? He was so beautiful looking in his solidarity; his sadness almost iconic… to see him sitting there, simply allowing everything to flow by… well, to explain my feelings on being witness to him would be insufficient if even I were to speak a thousand words. All I can say really is that my heart ached. I yearned for him.

I want to understand you, treasure you, free you, save you, all those beautiful things. And in the same beat I wanted to devour you, sup you and meld into your flesh and merge with the scathing darkness that surged through your soul. I knew nothing about you, Oriya Mibu and yet you seemed to consume me as nothing else had! My brain was a forcible jumble that night, throwing itself back and forth between thoughts of you and thoughts of her. Oh, if only I could resolve myself to peace of mind and peace of soul! If I, as a dead man was unable to find rest, then what peaceful sleep could possibly await anyone? There seems to be no freeing oneself from the passions of the Waking world!

I can't seem to forget about you…

I felt the back of Ichibana's fingers slap the side of my face. "Stop angsting! My GOD can't you dead people do anything else other than regret what may be or what should have been? Relax why don'tcha? Ye got young, trim, handsome bodies and a whole town just waitin' to be yer oyster!" He sighed happily, resting both arms down on the balcony and peering over the sunlit city of Tokyo with a contented expression. "It's a great time ta be alive! Well… in a matter o' speakin'."

Tsuzuki chuckled congenially, dabbing the ash from the tip of his cigarette into the ashtray I kept on the balcony table. "What place did you want to go to tonight, Ichi? Should we grab a few beers at Sîné's?" Sîné's was our usual Tokyo haunt because of its' convenience (being only a few blocks down from Sakura Zensen) and the fact that it housed both a comfortable bar and club area. But mostly because Ichibana was in a serious long-term relationship with the Head Steward Orias. This meant getting our drinks cheap and being on the VIP list. Sîné's appropriately enough, was entirely staffed by supernatural folks, which meant we could relax just that little bit more when we got a few under the belt.

Orias Crowley was one of the few demons registered on the Ministry's system as a mainstreamer – in so saying, he had assumed human form and was living a normal enough existence amongst them. When I'd first bound Ichibana to my service, he became acquainted with Orias soon thereafter; as a means of staying connected to the demonic realm, I suppose. They had been friends for twelve years and lovers for the last five.

It didn't bother me none. Orias wasn't on security watch, which basically meant he was a non-threat. His only concerns were earning money, making his way and living comfortably. He was a hard-working, no-nonsense and genuinely kind person, who turned out to be a very good influence on Ichibana's more formally rambunctious nature. Having them court was doing me a favor, rather than a disservice.

And considering just how fond Ichibana was of Orias, you would have thought he would have been eager to skip off down to Sîné's and catch up. So Tsuzuki and I were both surprised to see his mouth downturn at the very mention of the club's name.

"Ah… I dunno if we should. Plenty of other places to go."

Tsuzuki and I exchanged a look.

"Did you and Orias have another fight?" I guessed, resting my back on the balcony railing and hearing it creak beneath my weight. Ichibana shook his head, placing his cigarette daintily between his teeth.

"It's not even that… he's just been actin' crabby lately. Probably best that I give him some space."

"But I like Sîné's!" Tsuzuki whined, clearly having taken Ichibana's feelings on the matter into consideration. "It's the best place to go and relax! And the people that go there are always hotter than anywhere else! You said so yourself, Ichi!" He put an arm around the djinni's slender shoulders and gave him a comforting rock. "Besides, you and Orias have been through heaps of stuff together! I'm sure he really wants to see you!"

Ichibana rolled his eyes as he drew back on his cigarette. "Kid, in the real world not every couple is happy bein' together twenty-four seven. Sometimes, it's healthy to have some time apart."

"How long has it been since you guys have seen one another?" I asked, going straight in for the kill. "I can't remember if you've visited this week or not…"

"Two weeks." He established, exhaling cigarette smoke and slumping his chin down into the cup of his hand with a somnolent sigh. "Ye guys probably think I'm a spineless sucker."

"Well, if we did, we would never say it out loud." I said, smiling at Tsuzuki as I drew back on my smoke and flicked the residual ash over the side of the balcony. Tsuzuki chuckled at Ichibana's expression.

"Still, here you are having a jab at us for stressing over guys and you're doing the exact same thing!" He grinned, ducking out of the way as Ichibana attempted to poke him in the cheek. "Come on, I think you'd better go and talk to him! And I know I could use a beer!"

Ichibana stuck his bottom lip out in an entirely sulky fashion. "If he can't be bothered callin' me, I ain't philandering to him, the damn teapot."

'Teapot' was Ichibana's cruel nickname for Orias, who had lost his right arm in an unnamed accident some years ago. I do suppose if you all summon your imagination you will have some understanding of where the name 'teapot' might have originated. I thought it mighty unfair of Ichibana to be saying such things, especially when it was clear he had no intention of remaining in this gray funk. "Now, why do ya bother talkin' like that when ya know you're just gonna go back on it later?"

The djinni shrugged in a would be nonchalant manner. "I call a pot a pot when it's a pot. 'Sides, he's probably gone cold fish cause he's sick o' me hangin' on 'im all the time."

"That's not true, he loves you." Tsuzuki insisted, a romantic and envious twinkle in his eye. "I think it's adorable."

The djinni looked positively disgusted at this wording. "Adorable?! What are we, Edward and freakin' Bella?!"

"'And the lion fell in love with the lamb…'" I quoted mockingly, ducking to one side as Ichibana proceeded to lash out at the two of us. Tsuzuki laughed as he ducked the other way, barely missing the toe of the djinni's high-heeled shoe as it zeroed in on his ankle.

"Yes! And Ichibana's the lion!"

"Of course he is!" I concurred, thrilled to see how we were winding the feisty creature up. "Orias is a darling after all. I think he's a saint for having put up with you this long personally."

Ichibana looked fit to be tied. "Saint, my ass. And that quote could very well describe you and Mad-Eye, Chastity-Boy, so don't go gettin' too carried away!"

Tsuzuki gasped, his eyes turning on me with a horrid countenance. "Watari! He's pickin' up on your horrid nicknames!"

I could care less. "Can I help it if I'm inspirational like that? Well, whatever the case, we are going to go and see your little Lamby tonight, whether you agree to it or not." I said to my irate djinni.

Ichibana sighed so dramatically you would suppose the weight of five worlds was crushing down upon his delicate shoulders. "Fine. But I'm attending out of protest. And only because I think you two really need to get out and get a little action."

"I ain't promisin' nothin." I declared, waving my hands to dissociate all responsibility with that statement. "Not with a face like mine."

Tsuzuki laughed as he checked his watch. "Well, I'd best be getting back to work. You alright now, Watari?"

I made an 'OK" sign with my fingers. "Sound as a pound, mate."

He smiled as he opened the door, patting his palm against the inside edge as he turned back to look at me. "Right. Well, you'd best get some rest now. Big night comin' up. I'll be back later to help ya get packed up for your trip in the morning."

"I'll be waiting to help ya pick out clothes for your big date this evening." I sang, doing a little tap-dance on the spot as I picked up my beer. Tsuzuki could only moan with exasperation as he turned on his heel and marched away to the accompanying fanfare of our teasing laughter.

Okay, so it wasn't truly funny. Having dinner with a serial killer rarely is. But what's a dead guy to do when faced with the imminent prospect of facing his gorgeous prospective sweetheart and the grisly remains of three once-beautiful women, cut down in such a fashion that rivaled the handiwork of Jack the Ripper himself?

We all need our tension breaker. And the horror that was to be Tsuzuki's weekend was just the ray of sunshine I needed to ease the burden of my troubled mind. Misery loves company… and a laughter track.

And I was in the mood to be entertained.

~ EC ~

A/N: My, Watari has become a sadistic little fellow in this rewrite. As you can see dear readers, there is not much to the additional chapter but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. Check out chapter five, though I've done only the smallest of procedures on that one, having liked it pretty much the way it was when I first wrote it. You don't take the scalpel to a pretty face! Unless of course you're Muraki but there's just no accounting to how some people get their kicks. By all means, why are you sitting around reading this waffle? Leave a review if you like or read on! Go on now, scoot! Chapter five awaits you, weary traveler!