Dark Adaptation.

DISCLAIMER: Tis not mine. Tis never was mine. Tis never will be mine. Only tis mine fantasies will tis be mine. But tis fanfic tis mine and anyone who tries to steal it will be walloped by my Animen sex slaves. You have been warned.

Note: This is the first chapter from Oriya's POV! Well, I must say it's about time! The poor guy was dying to get an opinion in edgewise, so at long last here he is for your enjoyment!

All New Random and wonderful Hickok notes –

-Shenai's friend Sascha says: "That the tango was originally a dance between two men!"

Watari: Well isn't that something? Hey 'Ri! Wanna do the tango with me?

Oriya: (Sweatdrops) Uh… not right now Kitten. … Maybe later…

Watari: (Shrugs and then turns his attention to the readers) Herro everyone! It's me again; Yutaka Watari welcoming you to a Sim's inspired new chapter of Dark Adaptation!

Oriya: 'Sim's Inspired?' Now why does that have me worried?

Watari: Aww, you shouldn't be worried Ori! (Pinches his cheek) The Sim's is a lot of fun! See? I even bought a copy myself! (Holds it up) Let's play together Mibu-san! You'll love it!

Oriya: I have not yet descended so low into the depths of social degradation that I feel the compulsion to surrender my life to a computer game, you four eyed- (Looks over Watari's shoulder at the computer screen) – Hold on a second…. Those characters look like you and me.

Watari: ^^ Yep! They love each other just as much as you and I do Ri-chan! (Smiles benignly as Sim-Watari takes advantage of Sim-Oriya in the heart shaped hot tub.)

Oriya: Wait… why did they disappear under water? (Stares and listens and suddenly goes bright red.) THAT'S DISGUSTING!! Yutaka Watari, you turn that off right this minute!! (Tries to cover Watari's eyes)

Watari: Ohh – but Ori! I haven't even had a chance to show you the vibrating heart bed yet!

Oriya: THE WHAT!?

Watari: Uh…. On that note… I think it's time to actually sink your teeth into the meaty center of this here chapter. We hope you enjoy! (Bows and scene fades out) Hey! Who turned out the lights?!

Additional note: Newly revised Chapter 8. Not much is different. Oriya's way of speaking is more in touch with how I have written him in later chapters, obviously the kiss did not occur as it did in the previous incantation and in fact, there will be no intimacy between these characters until much later. Other than that; general tidy up and title change. I hope it reads better everyone!

Hereby my doubts rest stilled and silent evermore

I don't know you but I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me and always fool me
And I can't react

You have suffered enough and what with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time, raise your hopeful voice
You had the choice, you've made it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'll paint it black

Games that never amount
To more than themselves
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time, raise your hopeful voice
You had the choice, you've made it now

"Falling Slowly" ~ The Frames

x

"I read and walked for miles at night along the beach, writing bad blank verse and searching endlessly for someone wonderful who would step out of the darkness and change my life. It never crossed my mind that that person could be me." ~ Anna Quindlen

x

Oriya

The Shinigami wavered unsteadily on his feet. His eyes were almost bugging from his head. He seemed to me a little stunned.

"Ah… em… shreen neeble nah."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "I beg your pardon?"

The levitating chicken (I took this in my stride but it still gave unnerved me considerably) made what I assumed was a dismissive sound. It sounded like he was trying to lay an overly large egg.

"I think he's happy to be here." He elaborated, crossing his feathered arms over his chest. The pint-sized owl (Whom I assumed was 003, though Yutaka Watari had not been very direct in his introductions) gave a very attention-grabbing hoot as he circled my head much like a bothersome bug. It took all my willpower not to swat the little bugger.

The Shinigami rocked back and managed to extract himself from my eye contact, which seemed to have left him reeling. I had directed every spare inch of my ability through the cords of his body, heightening his receptiveness to my advancements. Through these unknown interactions, I was able to discern just what actions I might subtly take to best draw his attention, what would appeal to him, what would turn his head. I smiled with amusement as he glanced back at me, made tentative eye contact and tried to spin away so quickly that he wobbled as though he'd just spent the last few minutes spinning in circles. A bashful grin broke out across his pale pink lips and he rubbed his forehead dazedly. He only now seemed to be coming back to his senses.

"Well…" He mused with a slight chuckle. He touched his fingers to his mouth as though I had surprised him in the act of kissing him. "Well, um I… I mean… uh…" He straightened his spine and seemed to steel himself, turning his eyes to the side, preventing me from directing my Influence at him. "What I mean to say is… it's nice to meet you too. Looking forward to working with you."

That made two of us. Seems that this was going to be more interesting than I had imagined. I flashed what I hoped was a winning smile and reached over to shake his hand. Watari took exception to my actions however and stepped away, holding his palms up in the typical pose of resistance. His facial expression was however hesitant. He'd liked my casual flirtations, that much was obvious but now he was attempting to impress some standards upon me. Ho-hum.

"Um… Mibu-san…"

I felt my face pinch together in distaste. "Please, I insist you dismiss the formalities. Using my family namemakes me sound more important than I am. Just Oriya will suffice."

Watari's own expression relaxed and I could detect that he was one of those people capable of adjusting casually into new relationships. Despite his coquettish act, I didn't get the impression that there was anything timid or demure about this Yutaka Watari in the slightest.

"Okay then, Oriya." I guess he liked the way my name sounded, because he smiled. "Now… I would be lying if I said I didn't mind working with a nice looking fellow like you –''

Seems as though I wasn't the only one who knew how to turn on the charm. I was secretly flattered but kept my body language and expression impartial. Better off to appear as though I had the upper hand in our acquaintanceship.

" – but-'' I was met by his index finger pointed directly at my nose, beyond which his body language spelt out one thing; Pay Attention. His dark eyebrows (At first I thought that he had bleached his hair but have since learnt otherwise. This was quite a feat, even for a halfie) were furrowed over his honey brown eyes in an effort to look stern. It didn't work. He just looked lovable. "- For the record 'Just Oriya', I'm still mad at you!"

My eyes widened in conjunction to my earnest feelings of confusion. "Mad at me?" He nodded. "Why I'm disappointed in myself. You've only just arrived here and already you're mad at me? What could I have possibly done to offend you in such a short space of time?"

"Well, okay – how about not arranging us transportation from the airport, for one?" He snapped, pressing down on his thumb with his index finger. "On a day like this, I thought you may have been just a little more considerate than that! Look at me! I'm soaked to the bone!"

"Yes… I did notice that…" I mused, purposefully sliding my eyes along his body, starting with his face and moving all the way down to his feet and back. He snorted as though he were actually appalled by the attention and literally snapped his sodden coat about his body. Holding the halves together with one hand, he freed the other and shook his finger at me again.

"Now don't you talk dirty," He said. "I won't listen to that."

I chuckled softly to myself, feeling my inside elbow start to itch on account of how unreservedly perverted I sounded. "Oh, I don't believe I have even started with you yet, Shinigami-san. Do give me some credit." I scratched indolently at my arm, pretending as though nothing bothered me in the least. Truthfully, I am not one of those individuals to whom this blatant behavior comes easily. In case it wasn't obvious, I'm what you might refer to as 'old fashioned'. I wasn't at all accustomed to conscious flirting, never mind directing my attentions towards a man. This all seemed quite unnatural and awkward to me, though Watari didn't seem to notice. Or particularly care.

His face got hard and it was easy to tell that he wasn't adapted to such harsh emotions. I didn't know much about this Watari character but what I could see was this; he had a nice smile and when he did smile his entire face lit up and he was ten times more appealing than with a sullen expression. Frowning seemed to age him. More so than that; it was an insult to his warm features.

"Two; you requested specifically that I would not be sent to investigate this case! And now you greet me so warmly? What's all that about? I'm just a little confused."

Ah, I had forgotten about that little specific of the Employment details. As I told Muraki, it had been nothing personal. I was not harboring an unprovoked discrimination against the Shinigami simply from the brief impression I had of him those three months ago. I didn't even understand the truth myself. It had been a call from above.

How was I supposed to convey this without offending him though? Oh decisions, decisions. I figured that the best explanation would be to thread a web of carefully strung half-truths and 'not-quite-truths.' I sighed and scratched the back of my head, delving my fingers into the long strands of brown hair. I knew this action had caused my yukata to fall astray revealing a substantial portion of my chest. And from a brief glance I knew Watari was having a good hard look. It made me feel slightly uncomfortable to know I was being subjected to such apt attention as this. Why, he was hardly what you would call subtle about it.

"It's a long story, blondie." I said gruffly. He replied with a look that basically implied that he had all day to listen. "Honestly…? …I was simply worried you were going to be a distraction."

He arched an eyebrow. "A distraction?"

"Yes, quite. You'll put my girls out of work if I perch your face at the front desk." I flashed some teeth to demonstrate that I was simply having fun and meant no harm. To my surprise, he actually laughed at my words, his body rocking gently to reveal his amusement.

"Mibu-san!" He chuckled. "That's very kind of you, but you did state on the form – ''

"Not ta send the blond one? I apologize fer that. Don't take offense." This was actually true and I felt my body posture relax in coordination to my placated conscience. "I believed that phrasing it like that would give ya more incentive to stay away. An okiya… well… just understand that I had my reasons. But it has nothin' to do with who ya are as a person. I don't know ya well enough ta make that sort of judgment yet. As for the manner in which I have conducted myself this morning… well!" I felt my lips hitch up into a crooked little half smile. "It's only courteous to treat a guest with respect. And let's just suppose that I heard it from a reliable source that a certain someone the ministry was sending here today may have taken a shine to the wakkadana of said establishment. Considering that only three of you turned up and two of you aren't exactly my type… I thought what could it hurt to be friendly?"

I could never accuse Watari of being a fool from that point on. As soon as I mentioned a 'certain someone' his head dropped and he gave an exasperated little nod.

"Muraki rang you." He said. It wasn't a question. "I was wondering why he disappeared into the kitchen for so long. Now I understand." The blond raised his head and sighed wearily, shaking the longer tresses of hair out of his sight. "God I must look like such an idiot to you. That's all you have to say? 'What could it hurt?' I suppose you think I'm some sort of easy ignoramus 'cause of the way I act. Well I'm tellin' ya here and now, don't bother thinking you can hoodwink me at every turn, because I won't have it! I'm not one of those two-dimensional physicality distracted politicians you've got wrapped around your little finger. I'm a Shinigami, here to do a very important job and that's something I take very seriously indeed, make no bones about it. So, do us both a favor and don't mess with me like that, 'coz it wont end pretty, mate."

Ooo-ookay… There was certainly an area of sensitivity there… Watari clearly wanted there to be no misinterpretations on my part, on account of what Muraki may have told me. I raised my hands in mock surrender, suppressing the laughter threatening to spill out over my lips. To express my amusement as such, would most likely not win me any favors.

"Take it easy, cher." I soothed. "I wasn't thinking that at all. As you'll no doubt learn during your time here, I'm not what you would call a terribly confident man. I didn't mean any offense."

Watari seemed satisfied with that. However he still had his serious face on, which meant he wasn't quite ready to dismiss his charges against me. I figured that the best thing to do was to let him get it all out in the open so we could resolve it here and now. It would make things less complicated later.

"Mibu-san," He stated. "I'm not going to lie. I don't know anything about you and I sure as hell would like to change that. But, and you make sure you heed this mister: There are three dead girls inside and one girl who has been through hell and back. I know you didn't miss that. And until I'm done with my initial examination of the bodies, I must ask that out of respect for the deceased you keep such behavior to a minimum. Are we clear?"

It was as effective as if he had dunked my head in a bucket of ice water. I took a step back, reminding myself of the cold hard reality. My girls, my daughters in all rights but blood were lying dead, murdered just beyond these walls. What in the gods names had I been thinking?

I was dancing a dangerous line. My purposeful ignorance was borderline the carnal lack of empathy Muraki possessed. Something I swore I would never allow my soul to steep itself in.

I could feel my face crumple and I placed one hand delicately over my eye, wishing and not for the first time that I didn't have a tendency to become overly emotional. Every time I thought of what Muraki had become… every time I considered my own hand in every death he had bestowed…

Truthfully I tried not to think too deeply about it. I knew that if I did, I was likely to be driven mad by the implications. I didn't want to compromise the person I thought myself to be, that others mistook me to be at a mere glance.

I sighed, my chest rising and falling heavily. I immediately began to feel calmer. "You're right." I raised my eyes and nodded, registering consciously my cold mask snap into place. I was a walking Noh performer with a hundred masks poised eternally between expressions, none of which was an extreme dictation. "I apologize, Watari-san. I should know better..."

I turned my head a little, purposefully pulling myself up short from getting all weepy eyed again. I felt my chest tighten; a growing tension escalating across my heart. Lack of sleep and the pressure I had been under was finally taking its hold on me I guess. The Shinigami's face softened considerably, revealing that the dark expression he'd been wearing seconds earlier was as authentic as any one of my own Noh masks. I don't think he had the capacity to maintain the emotion of anger for any considerably length of time.

"I'm sorry." He said, reaching over to lightly touch my arm. I could feel the warmth through the sleeve of my yukata. "I didn't mean for that to sound so condescending. I know these girls are dear to you. It's just that sometimes in the event of death, people tend to try any way and every way to forget, if even just for a moment. That's about the last thing you and I need to contend with right now. You understand?"

I melted a little at the touch of his hand. I'd always been a sucker for a blond and he was certainly something to look at.

I smiled a little and chanced a slow wink. "You've got nothing to apologize for Watari-san. Now… if you and the… garden fowl would care to follow me – '' I got an insulted 'hmph' from the… Gushoshin, for my comment. " – then I'll show you to your room."

Watari smiled in a sort of relieved fashion and adjusted his circular glasses. "At your service sir!"

Down boy. It was all well and good to chastise me about my behavior but it didn't seem to stop him from flirting. I didn't realize how much more difficult my task had become, until my conscience kicked in. Muraki must have known that. It had not concerned me in the slightest when I'd been confronted with that boy three months ago. I hadn't a shred of remorse for the two barbaric slices I had made across his chest. I had forsaken normal mortal empathy, in the verity that my opponent had not actually been a mortal. Whereas my own cuts would have taken a few days to heal at least, what would ordinarily have been lethal strikes to the boy, healed in a matter of seconds. This allowed me to banish a considerable portion of my conscience during that dual. The circumstances now were hardly any different. The only real variation was that rather than a volatile physical attack, I would strike at his mentality. I would tear his soul in the act of seducing him.

But unlike the boy I had engaged, for some vague reason, I couldn't summon the same impassiveness with this man before me. I put it down to the fact that it had been easier with the boy because he had been certifiably bitchy. He'd made it simple for me to rough him up.

Watari knelt down and wrapped his fingers around the handle of one of his bags. The contents must have been heavy because I could see his bicep muscle straining. He noticed me staring and smiled apologetically.

"Scientific equipment." He said as way of explanation. "You know; laptop, chemicals, data processor, all that jazz?"

It went a little over my head but I nodded anyway. There were two other bags and I pointed them out.

"What's in those? More scientific crap?"

Watari grinned and waved a hand dismissively. "Oh no, no! That one there is my luggage and those are a few texts which may prove useful in the case. The case specifics are in there too." He indicated a manila folder just visible, peeking out from the swollen zipper. I wasn't surprised to see that the bag holding Watari's wardrobe was the biggest of the three. The poor Gushoshin was probably expected to wear the same outfit day in day out.

Displaying that dapper gentleman like manner that's made me famous all over Kyoto, I strode on over to the struggling blonde and easily hefted the bag containing the science crap out of his fingers. I hooked the strap over my shoulder and grabbed the other two bags, lugging them over towards the entrance of the Kokakuro. I glanced over my shoulder and smiled.

"Well come on then. Don't stand there looking stupid."

Watari shook himself visibly and raced up to my side, gripping my forearm in the manner of an insistent child.

"No really Mibu-san! I can't let you carry my bags for me, it would be too much!"

I laughed at his distress and shook the longer tresses of my hair out of my face. It had been a long time since I had actually laughed at anything. I guess I've gotten a bit too serious for my own good.

"Think of it as retribution for not arranging you transportation, Cher. Now come on inside, you're all blocking the doorway."

"But! Eh… just let me take at least one bag!" Watari insisted, grabbing the strap on my shoulder and tugging persistently. I pulled away from him.

"Don't worry, I've got it."

"No really!" TUG TUG.

"It's no trouble, blondie. Just let go and get your ass inside!"

"I couldn't! That's far too generous!" TUG TUG.

My body was starting to tilt dangerously to one side, the weight of the bag sliding down from my shoulders to my upper arm. I was practically trying to run to the room before I upended all the luggage onto Watari, who was continually tugging at the strap much to my protests. Both physical and verbal. I countered a fairly insistent wrench with the side of my foot, pushing him away as I would a small dog humping my leg. He rebounded back a moment later like a playful kitten and wrapped his fingers around the handle. I bunted him with the bag in my hand; the one containing the books.

He was starting to seem less cute somehow.

"Watari-san, I insist. Let me be a gentleman and GET YOUR DAMN BAGS UP THE STAIRS." A difficult task to achieve with three heavy bags and a plucky blond Shinigami all weighing you down. There were only four or so steps into the Main Entrance but it became a series of theatrical acrobats just to ascend them in one piece. The Gushoshin floated on ahead of us, muttering justifiable complaints to itself. The little owl circled above our heads like a tiny vulture waiting for one of us to drop dead.

"No, I insist!" Watari chirped. He tilted his body dramatically and the bag slipped off of the crook of my shoulder, the weight bringing the strap down hard on the uppermost curve of my bicep. It hurt like hell. The entire left side of my body buckled and I tried to let go of the luggage in my hand but Watari like an idiot, chose at that moment to tug.

"MORON!" I screamed before I lost my balance and fell backwards off of the stairs, my legs flinging up in the air like a ridiculous cartoon comic relief moment. I managed to release my death grip on all three bags and possibly may have been able to right myself, if Watari had not tried to play hero and catch me.

All six foot four of muscled me, landed atop all six foot nothing of skinny him. The result? Well gravity's funny like that. It serves the purpose of drawing the denser of objects to the ground at a faster rate than it does the lighter. Meaning, I basically turned the Shinigami into a flapjack.

The upside? Well it certainly aided in my mission to flirt him into submission and it certainly didn't appear as though I'd done it on purpose. Who throws themselves down a splintery old flight of stairs as a come on? I'd landed face down on top of him, our noses an inch apart, one of his legs crooked up between my own. I thanked the gods that I hadn't landed a margin to the side and permanently disabled myself and spent a moment allowing my blond companion to adjust to the delightful situation we'd gotten ourselves into.

Well, it was his fault to begin with! He may as well have been permitted to suffer the consequences.

Watari groaned softly and rubbed the back of his head. He must have banged it pretty hard against the ground. Well, he was a bonehead anyway. No harm done there.

"Now are you happy?" I snapped, purposefully moving my hips against his own. I watched his eyes snap open, registered the accelerated racing of each pulse in his body. He drew a sharp breath into his mouth.

"Oh my…" He remarked cautiously, attempting to sit up. He rested back on his forearms, forcing me to climb to my feet to match his transitory movements. I made sure to press my weight down on my pelvis as I separated our bodies and stood up. I saw the effect it had on him. Barely noticeable, easily dismissible; but just for a moment, his eyelashes fluttered.

"Watari-san! Mibu-san! Are you all right!?" Gushoshin shouted, floating back down from the Entrance Hall. I held out a hand, which Watari promptly took and easily pulled the guardian up. He was a little surprised by my strength and I by his slight weight. For a moment, I had him lifted off his feet.

"Nothing's broken." I reported as I brushed my yukata off. When I was sure I'd removed all the dirt and grass, I graciously assisted Watari. There wasn't much that could be done however. Since his clothes were still wet, the damp earth had clung onto his coat greedily. I swiped at the mud insistently, paying special attention to his backside. Conveniently enough, that's where he had taken the brunt of the fall.

He slapped my helpful hands away, waving his index finger back and forth. "Uh, uh-uh! You watch were your putting those hands! It's a little early on to be sending them south of the equator, don't you think?"

I pulled a suitably maligned expression. "Tsk. What a shame." I lowered my voice, obscuring my words from our feathered companions. "I heard the tropics are lovely this time of year."

Watari was a smart boy. I could see I'd gotten to him by the faint blush that spread across his cheeks but he didn't let his obvious embarrassment get the better of him. He prodded my nose hard with his finger, his smile warm but at the same time demanding of my attention. He seemed to have a variation of smiles, each spelling out what other people may have said in a more grim facial expression.

"Remember our talk, Mibu-san." He said, shifting his shoulders in a languid, yet sensual manner. "Everything has its' time and place and now's not the time for this. And for the record…" He moved his head over my shoulder and spoke directly into my ear. " – if you wanted me on my back all you had to do was ask."

I watched him bounce past me and retrieve his luggage, marveling to myself at this peppy undead I had managed to involve myself with. Clearly not all guardians were as elusive as Muraki's. I watched as Watari made a sharp whistle through his teeth and the small owl floated down to land atop his shoulder. The blond cooed some sweet nothings to it, gave its chest a little tickle and then smiled at me expectantly.

"Well come on then 'Ri! Are you going to show us to our room, or do we have to find it ourselves?"

I laughed softly to myself and obediently retrieved the two bags we had dropped in our short trip down the stairs. As we moved through the Entrance Hall of the Kokakuro, I slipped into silent contemplation regarding my new companion.

The first time I had set eyes on him had been a year ago, during the Kyoto incident in which I had assisted Muraki in delaying the Shinigami. Though I had not been paying close attention to this Yutaka Watari at the time. My focus had been primarily on the young man who had challenged me in order to win the two card keys Muraki had entrusted to me. Though I had taken various glances at his companions from time to time, watching for the slightest intention either one may have had to intrude upon our dual. They'd been graciously respectful of the rules I had set out. What I had noticed however, was that the young man with the blond hair was very appealing. (So far as my tastes were concerned).

Though clearly he had encountered some difficulties on his way to the Kokakuro this time around; the rain and grime accumulated on his body had done little to hinder his comely form. It's not a word I use habitually (if at all) but sexy seemed the only means through which to most adequately describe him. His shrewd, intelligent eyes, knowing smile and tangled wavy blond hair… even now I continue to find myself struck by how his appearance just sometimes begs for ravishment.

It's pretty clear to see that I don't get out much. Not because I lack the desire, the capacity or the looks to get by in society. I'm tall, dark and was (at the time) thirty-two. My legs are strong, my body toned and my eyes an unusual mixture of light brown and green, said to lure those that should meet my gaze into ever deepening realms of susceptibility. I can hold a conversation and I get along reasonably well with people when I want to.

However, I happen to have a slight disability. This disability has the side affect of making me somewhat anti-social as a result. It's a long story and most people tend to settle for finding me a little scary and leaving it at that. They don't try to explain it. Or if they want to take a stab, they simply wager a gamble and bet it all on a sort of Bushido/Samurai swordsman spirit, or some rubbish like that.

To be accurate, I suppose you could say my senses are highly accelerated. I possess a degree of unnatural abilties such as advanced preternatural reflexes, slight undeveloped empathic capabilities, a highly developed sixth sense, infintesimal control over my body and an unnaturally accelerated learning curve. I am able to detect the slightest hair of movement, the tiniest quiver of a leaf on the highest branch of a tree. The smallest shiver down a persons forearm. My ability is as such, that I can hasten my own body to make it appear as though everything around me has ground to almost a complete standstill. I can slice a leaf perfectly down the center with my sword, should it have the misfortune to fall in front of me. I perceive the world as one great ukulele, only all the strings are translucent to everyone but me. When the fancy takes me, I am able to see those strings, touch them, pull them and wind them about my fingers. These strings divide the world, pass through inanimate objects and living things alike. There are millions of them, thin like spider webs and every contact made with those strings sends a vibration through the material realm and affects all things it comes into contact with. The strings connect all things and all people. Where they begin is where they finish. The same cord that passes through me, passed through Watari, passed through the Gushoushin, passed through hundreds of people.

As far as I know, only I could see these cords. And only I could manipulate them. By moving along these cords I was able to penetrate the minds and bodies of those that were connected to them, which I suppose granted me enormous leverage, especially when it came to the grounds of manipulation.

I can also sense the life force of any and every living thing. Or in the Shinigami's case, this seems a little bizarre. They do have an aura though, albeit it feels and appears differently to me. It sets them apart from regular humans. It's as though they glow a little.

Before the guardian had even knocked I had sensed his presence. The strong aura of the undead affected the subtle underlying balance of this place of existence. If I had to compare it to anything, the aura of a Shinigami felt to me as if two people had a blanket stretched out across the world and somewhere in the middle, it had snagged upon something. Guardian's created a tension in the membrane of the mortal plane; their aura complicated an already complex web. By the time he and the two birds had stepped onto the doorstep the presence was so obvious to me they may as well have knocked on the outside of my skull. I could feel the aura of three distinct life forms, emanating from the street beyond the door. The Shinigami's was the strongest. I remember hoping that my clothes were neat and my ponytail was still even. It was silly. Like a boy on his first date. And though I'd never been particularly fond of performing Muraki's dirty work, I was never so maligned as to make a poor effort of it.

It was as bad as I'd thought. The Shinigami was …lovely. That's the only word I can think to accurately describe my thoughts at the time. He was blond and brown eyed, with a sexy knowing smile, long trim legs and lovely slender wrists… Oh curse you Muraki. No, he wasn't the one who deserved the blame here. Curse the Ministry of Hades. They'd had no idea what they'd condemned this poor boy to.

And he wasn't about to lighten his burden either. He was a positive 100 per cent flirt. I listened closely to the accelerated beating of his heart, the thud of his individual pulses throughout his body. Tiny molecules of his skin flushed red. I could sense that his temperature rose several palpable degrees whilst we stood out there on the doorstep.

Even without Muraki's incentive it wouldn't have taken me long to detect that he desired me. It was kind of ridiculous, considering that we'd never had a proper introduction. But nevertheless, I found myself inexplicably warming to him.

He was a sweetheart. A harmless, gentle natured man with his emotions on his sleeve and a Kansai accent so profoundly rich you could cut it with a knife. Clearly a Kyoto boy in his own right. I considered myself a Kyoto native though I had lived in Tokyo until leaving high school, when I had moved to Kyoto to… well that was a long time ago now. The point being my accent was hardly affected (though my dialect had entirely shifted to Kyoto-ben) and his was undeniably strong. He must have lived in Kyoto before he died, I reasoned.

Of course he'd been a little surprised when I'd started flirting with him, but not nearly as revered as I had hoped. Rather than rock back and question my sudden and unprovoked advancement, he had flirted right back. I accumulated the surprise myself as I came to the realization that despite his carefree appearance, this Watari character was certainly not inexperienced. I detected the subtle adjustment of his modest expectations. He was far too comfortable in this prospect I'd presented him with.

Oh boy, I thought. I'm going to have some fun with you.

We entered the reception area of the Kokakuro and I wasn't surprised to find the five remaining geiko there waiting for us. They advanced on us in a flock and immediately started to make a fuss over our newest guest and his cute 'pet birds.' I was ignored for the most part, something I was used to by this point. Whenever I had a male friend, usually Muraki, stay at the Kokakuro, the girls went tooth and nail to make them feel welcome. They were used to me by this point and since I was the proprietor and sort of like the father figure, crooning, gasping, ooh-ing and ah-ing over me was considered a bit creepy. Not to mention I was the boss. A good escort doesn't get cozy with his adopted daughters.

"Why, would you look at that." I said disgustedly to Akemi, the only one of my girls who wasn't currently grooming Watari like a spider monkey. Akemi was four years older than I, making her the most mature of the girls in my service. She was a tall halfie with short blonde hair, who'd had three patrons in her time and a child to each of them. From time to time I think she considers me her fourth. Fine with me. When the rest of your employee's look at you as their father you start feeling old after a while. Akemi treating me like a child reminded me that I didn't yet need to go shopping for a walking stick.

Ironically enough, she and I had undertaken the traditional ritual that bound as together as Father and daughter, even though she was older than myself. What this ritual established was, that if I failed to produce an heir, Akemi as the atotori, would be the one to inherit the Kokakuro should I relinquish title ship.

"Is he a friend of yours, beau?" She asked me with what seemed like little interest. I did notice that she'd hiked up her obi by an inch when we'd walked in, so clearly she wasn't as dismissive as she pretended.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that, Oba-san. He is the gentleman I've hired to take Samai-san's place." Samai had been the Kokakuro's receptionist and had been for the past eight years. I wasn't ashamed to say I missed her but in light of what had happened to my other girls I hadn't yet taken the time to mourn her absence as I may once had. "He'll also be investigating the murders. He's the… special detective I've had called in."

Akemi nodded. She and I were the only one's who knew what Watari was actually here to do. My other employee's would believe he was nothing more than a receptionist.

The receptionist-to-be in question managed to extract himself from the adoring throng of geiko and wobble on over to join Akemi and I. His face was covered in lipstick prints and his glasses were crooked.

"Wow…" He said dazedly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear I'd died and gone to Heaven. Is it like Kokakuro custom to greet new guests with a kiss Mibu-san?"

I chuckled mockingly and reached over to adjust his spectacles for him. "More like a complimentary perk. And I told you, call me Oriya."

Watari nodded as though this had been something deep and philosophical. He looked back over his shoulder and one by one indicated to each of the girls who bowed with a demure smile as he pointed at them.

"Mami Takada, Sonja Mutai, Dai Yamagawa, Miyamato Subaru and…" He spun around to face Akemi who visibly straightened her back so that her breasts stood out. She had a patron at the moment but she still wanted to be noticed by Watari. Even though I'm positive he wasn't at all her type. "… I'm sorry… can I ask what your name is?"

"Akemi Aisubi." She said, bowing deeply. Watari grinned and bowed just as deeply as she did, probably grateful that she hadn't yet attacked him with a passionate welcome kiss. So far she was the only one who hadn't.

"Well, isn't that a most lovely name? Aisubi-san, it's a pleasure to meet you!" He said straightening up and giving her a genuine smile. "I'm Yutaka Watari and I'll be taking over as receptionist for a while. I'm awful sorry about your loss, ma'am."

Akemi looked a little shocked. The murders had become an almost taboo subject in light of the proximity yet no one had really considered the personal affect it had on the other girls in my service. They had all been close, a number acting as elder sisters to the younger generation. Finding three of them murdered was as though someone had killed part of our family. Everyone had been shattered by the recent discovery but the five girls here had tried to remain strong for me and vice versa. I got the sense that they did not believe an outsider like Watari could understand anything about our suffering.

At first I had thought the same. Then I learnt differently.

"Ah… well thankyou, sir." Akemi murmured softly, lowering her head a little. I could tell she was trying to keep from crying.

The four other girls came up and joined us. Sonja, with the split-peach hairstyle, put her arm around Akemi's shoulders and gave her upper arm a bit of a squeeze. Miyamato immediately attempted to change the mood of the conversation.

"Watari-san? Do you happen to be married?" She asked casually flinging her loose black hair about.

"Time to go." I declared giving Watari a prompting clout on the backside. He got the hint and quickly made his way over to the hallway directly in front of him. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck like I would a cat and dragged him behind me in the right direction.

"It was nice meeting you girls!" He peeped, waving even as the receded into the distance. Miyamato blew a kiss and I internally berated the recreant girl. Thirty years old, working in an okiya and you'd think she'd have just a margin of knowledge when it came to evaluating men.

After a few meters I realized that Watari was simply allowing himself to be dragged behind me, his heels leaving twin trails of dirt along the floorboards. Sighing disgustedly, I released my hold of his collar. His head crashed to the floor and he let out a loud 'Oomph!' to express his discomfort. He stared up at me demurely as I stood over him, my lip curled and eyebrow raised.

"Ah… he he…" He chuckled embarrassedly. I wasn't amused. "That kinda hurt you know?"

"Yeah… and so did you pulling me down the stairs after you outside." I reminded him, hefting one of the bags atop my shoulder. "If you think I'm going to drag both you and these bags to your room then you are seriously mistaken Shinigami. … Honestly, asking if he was married… as if she couldn't tell he's as queer as a three dollar bill…"

"Hey! Whaddya mean; 'Queer as a three dollar bill!?'" He cried as I continued up the hallway muttering distastefully to myself the entire way. The Gushoshin gave Watari a sort of 'What can I do?' shrug as he floated up ahead of me.

I heard Watari scramble off of the floorboards and race after me. He got in front of me and prodded me hard in the center of my chest, bringing me to a dead stop.

"I'll have you know Pimp-boy, I was actually married!"

My features and body relaxed so suddenly I very nearly dropped both bags. I regained control quickly, though the shock still registered in my features.

"You were married?" I asked. I thought hard on that for a moment. "To a woman?"

It was dark in the hallway but I could still see his face go red. "YES to a woman, you idiot! I died when I was twenty-eight."

"Which was?"

"1981." And then, in case I couldn't perform simple addition; "Twenty-two years ago."

For some reason this struck me as being very sad. "You have been dead almost as long as you lived, Shinigami-san."

He simply smiled. "Well I wouldn't look at it quite like that. I have existed for fifty years in this world. And back in the seventies people were getting married younger than they are expected to today. I was married at nineteen. I also had about eight siblings of my own. Still alive today."

"Where are they?"

"Hmm, scattered around the country I imagine. Or maybe they're still in Osaka. That's where my family lived, where I was raised. Could have gone back to England for all I know… that's where my Mom's side of the family was from."

"You don't know where they are?" This surprised me a little. I still kept in contact regularly with my own family and wouldn't have had it any other way. Thinking about not seeing or hearing from them for twenty-two years seemed maddening to me.

Watari gave a little shrug. "Against Ministry regulations. You can't interfere with the lives of your living relatives. They all know I died in 1981. Can you imagine what harm it would cause, what mayhem would follow if I should just waltz on up to them one day and say 'Hello!'? That sort of thing breaches the life/death policy! It just… causes problems."

I made a very ungentlemanly sound through my nose. "Call it whatever you want to call it. I just find it hypocritical. As far as I'm concerned, they breached that life/death policy when they started bringing you guys back to do their dirty work for them. It's unnatural… the dead deserve to rest."

"You can't say that Mibu-san. You don't know anything about the situation of us guardians." His homely face was crunched into a frown. "We find a place at the Ministry because we can't rest. We become Shinigami because we died violent or unnatural deaths. And I for one am thankful for their hypocrisy. Because when I consider the life I lived, I figure that I've done more for myself in death than I ever did when I was alive. I'm grateful for this chance." Watari's voice had become cold and remote. A tone I was beginning to loathe implicitly.

"I've brought up something that has upset you," I said. I didn't know much about Shinigami etiquette but common sense told me that inquiring into one's death was clearly not appropriate. I suppose it would be like him taking jabs at the death of my girls. "Come, I will show you to your room. We can talk about something else while we walk. What would you like to discuss?"

He considered thoughtfully as we walked side by side in the direction of the room I had prepared for him. The Gushoshin was levitating along ahead of us, whilst 003, who had until now been circling our heads, now contented itself to making a cozy roost in the part of Watari's hair. The long wavy hair did look comfortable… if you were a fist sized owl that is.

"I wanna know more about my employer!" Watari finally declared. He smiled at me expectantly, his pretty eyes magnified behind the lenses of his glasses. "Tell me about yourself. Your life here, what you do, your personal interests, your shoe size, favorite brand of shampoo, the first thing you do when you get up in the morning; anything!"

I laughed a little, flattered by his enthusiasm. I'd never met anyone capable of becoming as smitten with a person as he had with me in such a short space of time. This was a phenomenal achievement in its' own right, as I am hardly a person worthy to be smitten with.

"Well I'm honored that you've taken such an interest in me cher, but I don't think I'm as interesting as you seem to think." He was still staring at me expectantly so I guess I was obligated to answer. "Okay, let's see… most days I wake up, crawl out of my futon and stretch all my muscles. I make the bed, shower, brush my teeth… I usually shave though I only need to do that every second day or so. My whiskers don't grow back very fast. I eat breakfast and then I head out into the yard and train for a few hours. If it's a workday, I work, mostly handling accounts, the paperwork. Sometimes I help out with the cooking; you know, for the actual restaurant half of this establishment. In the evening I train a little more, I tend to the girls; make sure everything's running smoothly. Then I might give my mother and father a call. That or one of my two sisters and their kids. In the evening the real work kicks off if you know what I mean, so I kinda have my hands full from seven pm to three in the morning. The girls and their customers have total privacy when it comes to the servicing you understand but it's my job to make the arrangements and so forth. If it's not a work day then I may do a few extra hours of training. Or I meditate. Or I read a book. Or sometimes I even sunbathe, depending on the weather. Can't say it's been too kind to me lately. Depending on how much time I have off, I may go and visit my parents and brother Kenji in Tokyo or my sister Chiemi in Hokkaido or Asuoko in Himeji. Or if I'm lucky they might come and visit me. Sometimes I go to the movies. Or I go and watch a performance. I really like Ainu music. And Noh theatre. The austerity of underlying Zen philosophy, in which it integrates traditional dance and the ambiguity of Yugen; a world beneath worlds in which we must peruse the depths of beauty as a transcendent experience. A vague concept but I find it gratifying just the same. Do you enjoy Noh performances Watari-san?"

"Noh is…" At this his voice dropped to a hushed tone of a dissident planning treason against the Prime Minister. "… a little… slow for my liking." He smiled bashfully and starting quickly trampling over his own words as though afraid he had offended me for dissing Noh. "I can understand though why so many people enjoy it! The masks for example are exquisite! They're poised between expressions, able to capture the mood and reflections of so many underlying emotions whilst at the same time never making anything definitive. I really admire the artistry that went into such creations! Noh can also be quite haunting and moving… but it just goes on for so long! For the first hour or so, it's bearable and then it just starts to drag, and drag and drag and drag…" He looped his head in circles as some indication of how a lagging Noh performance may have affected him. "I can appreciate the beauty and skill that goes into the performance but I guess it's just not for me. Zeami was a brilliant man though. To have written such wonderful plays and have them last as long as they have! He was a genius!"

"Well, it didn't exactly hurt that he was the homosexual lover of the leading Shogun at the time he wrote the plays," I muttered offhand.

Watari heard me and laughed. "Well yes I'm sure that helped his career along a bit! But lots of people sleep their way to the top and he sure as heck wasn't the first! So, you are a cultured man, Oriya Mibu-san. You like indigenous music and the theatre. You're family oriented and skilled as a swordsman. What else? How about relationships? How many times have you been married?" He asked cheekily.

I bit the inside of my cheek. "I was briefly engaged some years ago but… as I suppose you can tell, that didn't quite work out as planned. I haven't married. And I don't really date. There's just… never really much time for me to have a relationship. Plus I don't get out much so…" I came up short, chewing on my lower lip thoughtfully. "I guess I just let each day slip out from beneath my feet. Before I've really registered it, tomorrow comes and today is yesterday. Not too long ago I was seventeen years old and in high school. I had the whole world on bended knee. Now I'm getting old between these walls and wondering where the years went."

Watari smiled softly. "You sound sad… but I think what you have is nice."

"Nice?" I asked incredulously. He nodded.

"Yeah. I mean, you can relax and take it easy and spend time with your family. Do things for yourself. It's a wonderful luxury and you should be very thankful for it!"

"I'm certainly thankful for my family but sometimes I wish my life could be a little less clouded. That I didn't feel as though… I am dead already."

"Hey, it's better than being yelled at every day for blowing up the lab and being regarded as a complete failure because you're not the Super-Shinigami, you're just the one who tags along and analyzes things or takes care of the wounded or brings things to life and you can't even do that right anymore." He took a deep breath and laughed mockingly as though ashamed he'd let himself get carried away. "I'm sorry. I guess I've been a tad emotional lately. It's not like youneed to hear about it though."

"It's okay."

"So… what will you do Mibu-san? Long term I mean." He gently inquired.

"Grow old and die in my sleep." My voice was gruffer then I intended. He'd touched a nerve, that had long been left undisturbed and it had resonated a painful cord throughout my heart.

I came to a stop at one of the doors and gently lowered his luggage to the ground.

"This will be your room," I mumbled, sliding the door open, allowing the Gushoshin to enter. "I trust your stay will be comfortable and you're more than inclined to approach me about anything that doesn't fit your standards."

I could still hear the frailty in my voice and was disgusted for letting my weakness show. I shouldn't have begrudged the life I had been granted. Especially standing before a dead man whose life was now over. It just looked selfish and juvenile.

"Let me know if you need anything." I turned to leave.

"Wait! Mibu-san…"

I hadn't been fishing for sympathy, so it came as a pleasant surprise to me to receive it. Watari's hand tenderly gripped my upper arm and I turned back to him. His face was soft. He'd let his own mask down.

We stood that way for a while, the two of us in the quiet hallway. In our conversation we had made each other a little angry, had pushed some buttons we should have left well enough alone and because of that I now felt I knew Yutaka Watari a little better. And vice versa. It's as though we had cleared the air and figured out who the other was as a person, rather than as the role we played. He the undead detective pretending he was a ditzy receptionist. And I the lonely swordsman slash pimp slash friend of a murderer pretending that I was a noble man.

There was a cigarette butt suspended in his hair, just wedged in between a few of the tresses on the crown. I reached on over the sleeping owl with my free hand and lifted the offensive litter out with two of my fingers. I showed it to him and then flicked it away and then I did myself a small indulgence and started to run my fingers through his wavy locks, spreading it out across his shoulders.

"Don't take this the wrong way, because I don't mean to offend you," I told him. "But might I ask if you are a natural blond?"

He smiled and touched his fingers to my scalp, brushing my head as though I were a pet. The action reminded me of the attention my mother used to lavish on me as I child and I wouldn't sleep. It was one of the tactics she used to try and get me to nod off.

"Yes." He said at last. "I was born and raised in Japan but my mother was British. I wore it short all through my life and even for a while after my death. It's only the past couple of years that I decided to grow it out."

"It's beautiful." I observed. "It could do with a bit of a wash now but still it just takes my breath away…"

He sighed softly and reluctantly brought his hands back to his side, looking down towards his feet. I could practically feel the heat radiating off of his face "You have lovely hair too."

"Thankyou. But mine is just dull old brown. It's nothing like yours."

He frowned at me scathingly. "Saying things like that when it's so untrue only offends people who are actually dull, Mibu-san. Good looking people aren't allowed to run themselves into the ground."

I ignored him, fascinated by his hair and how soft it felt in my hands. Still though, I must admit that it was nice for once to have someone concern themselves over me in the manner Watari did. No one had ever bothered to ask about my personal well being and how I coped with my monotonous life style. He seemed to be a very kind hearted person.

"I should go take a shower and wash off some of this excess grime I accumulated on my way here," He murmured with all the willpower of child reminding themselves that they had to go to bed in five minutes but their television show finished in ten. He didn't want to leave my presence. I looked down at his slender frame and nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes," I agreed. "Then you should meet me downstairs and I'll explain to you what duties you will need to perform whilst you're playing at being my receptionist. Then… I'll take you to perform the examination of the bodies. Okay?"

He lowered his face, the reality of his reason for being here coming back to haunt him. "Okay." He said firmly. I could see he was about to become distracted by his moral obligations and knew I was supposed to keep him from that in any way possible.

"Go take a shower." I told him, running a comforting hand across his neck, which did nothing to improve the state of his blush. "And then come and see me downstairs by the front desk whenever you are done. You can take your time. Don't rush on my account."

"Yeah… okay…" He said in a quavery voice. He leant his forehead against mine for a moment and then grabbed both bags by the handles and dragged them inside. He stuck his head back out and winked at me. "And thanks for carrying my bags up! You're a doll!"

Doll. It was an off the cuff remark but to me the very word seemed to ring with unpleasant connotations. Rather than express this, I merely gave him a courteous nod and turned to trek my way through the silent hallway. My lips tingled, as though I were divinely envisaged by the rampant desire to kiss the other man, though I hadn't yet felt any sort of definitive attraction to him. Nothing that I might not have felt for any other pretty blond face that happened to stroll in off of the beaten track, anyway.

"By the way," He looked up at me as I patted the door directly next to his own. "You may find the bed comfortable in that room but keep in mind you'll probably find the bed in this room ten times as comfortable as that one. And you're welcome to it any time the desire takes you."

"Any reason you didn't just give me that room in the first place?" He asked as he unzipped the bag containing the scientific equipment. I grinned inappropriately at him.

"Well, because it's actually my room."

I couldn't resist laughing as the flustered guardian dropped something he'd been attempting to extract from the bag. By the time he made it out into the hallway to scold me, I was long gone, my laughter echoing in my place.

- EC -

Oriya: Hoo-ray. My first chapter. Please leave some nice reviews folks and the next chapter (which is already written due to this one being too long and the author having to chop it in two to avoid reader frustration) will be along very soon.

Watari: Yes! YES! Leave lots of shiny reviews for Ori's very first chapter! (Ruffles Oriya's hair)

Oriya: What's wrong with good old fashioned reviews?

Watari: (Looking bemused) Not shiny enough! WHEE! Behold my talent! (Thrusts out a picture before Oriya's face)

Oriya: (Taking picture) And what is this supposed to be?

Watari: Why, it's a picture of you silly! Don't pretend you can't tell!

Oriya: Since when the Hell was my head ten times the size of my body?

Watari: Um… since I decided it was?

Oriya: (Sweatdrops and puts picture down.) Just promise me you won't ever bring it to life and I'll agree with you.

Watari: (Giggles and scribbles his signature on the screen. He waves at the readers.) Ja beloved readers! In the next chappie there's a little bit from me and then back to the Tsuzuki – Muraki show! HOORAY!

Tsuzuki: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! NO! I don't wanna be sexually molested by Dr. Satan!

Muraki: (Tying Tsuzuki up to a chair) What was that my pet? I couldn't hear you over the Angels singing.

Tsuzuki: o_0 Somebody help me…