Dark Adaptation
Disclaimer: (Waves a bandaged hand) Apparently, I do not own Descendants of Darkness. I could have sworn that I did… …Really. And that's why I wrote fanfiction about it. Because I own it. And if I really wanted to see Oriya and Watari get together and have wonderful splendiferous yaoi, I could have put it in the show. Only I didn't because of reasons that escape me as of late. What were they again…? Oh yeah, that's right. BECAUSE I DON'T OWN IT. It's the truth. Please don't sue me anymore. Shenai wants to buy Silent Hill 4.
Note: Welcome back everybody! Thanks for tuning your dials in to another fun filled (though this is a rather restful addition) chapter of Dark Adaptation!
Watari: (Wearing a gaudy t-shirt with a big love heart on it, in which his and Ori's faces have been transferred) Ori and I are back! Yay, I missed seeing us!
Oriya: Whoot. (Waves little flag that says; "Go OriTari, GO!")
NaPap: The reviewer thanking will now be appearing at the end of each chapter although, sadly enough because I don't want to, I've been thinking about getting rid of the character reviewing reviews completely. I'm not sure if it is allowed and someone might have me booted if I keep up with it. And I really don't want to be booted. A friend of mine was booted lately and was really upset about it. So, maybe you guys can tell me whether or not it is allowed? It would be a sacrifice since I enjoy doing them but it wouldn't be worth getting thrown off of the site over.
Oh, and a special note goes out to my special minion Jewell, who sent me a review email, rather than an on site review! It was wonderful to read and I really enjoyed chatting with you! You can count on me to reply! I really hope you enjoy this chappie!
Anyhoo, on that note, on to the fic!
Oriya
When Watari had broken down on the outdoor deck, my very first thought had been to comfort him. Having grown up with two younger sisters, a younger brother and currently having two nieces and a nephew, this instinct had been somewhat ingrained into me. My tendency to become a weak limbed sucker at the sight of anything helpless; be it animal or human alike, had been a source of much amusement amongst my peers in my youth. I doted on children and anything that in my eyes could be perceived as in need of protection. I'd been raised raising my siblings and had babysat for both my sisters' children and Akemi's whenever they had need of me. And when it came to the handful of relationships I'd been able to maintain during my thirty-two years of living, my partners both male and female alike, had all possessed that same 'in-need-of-saving' quality, which was guaranteed to draw me in faster than a magnet to metal. I couldn't help myself. Weakness exemplified in others was my weakness and I would willingly take in anyone that needed protecting and give them a place to stay. It was how many of my girls had come to work at the Kokakuro as it were. My Uncle had been the same. He would have taken the world in, if it asked him.
I hadn't known Watari for very long but I get the feeling now, knowing him as I do, that he's not the kind of guy who it is difficult to get along with. A few hours and I was already subsequently fond of him, though deep down I never really thought he was my type. Carefree, outgoing and cheerful were all wonderful qualities that he possessed and I was certainly not adverse to that but I also similarly recognized an inherent strength in him, something that was tarnished within his psyche and purposefully pressed into the faces of those that he came into contact with. His manner of speech and his body language suggested that he was comfortable but it was the kind of security that came from knowing that he was capable of protecting himself, if the need ever arose.
He didn't have that 'in-need-of-saving' vibe about him.
And I didn't think at first that I could possibly engage him on the level that Muraki was asking of me, if he was beyond needing my protection. It's difficult to explain. It's not as though I require validation from my partner, to prove that I am strong enough, to enforce my bravado less settling for a more independent lover damage it. I do no expect to be catered to and fawned over and clung to in a scary movie, or any such nonsense like that. I certainly enjoy my own space. What it means to me is that in a partner, I would favor someone who essentially possesses the same softness around the inner edges that I do. Who isn't afraid to cry when something makes them sad and who is gentle and compassionate. When it came to giving my heart away, I liked knowing that the person I'd given it to would hold it gently and not crush it between their palms just to prove how little dependency they have on me.
Watari was no such person. I observed him as he went through the examination of the girls' bodies, calculating the injuries, collecting the evidence and cataloguing each and every little inconsistency he came across. All the while this usually cold and empathic ritual was proceeding he had spoken to the three dead girls as though they could hear him; though he knew very well that they could not. He'd adjusted his methods to suit them, as if they could feel the discomfort and he'd respected their modesty, arranging their clothes when he was done so that they were not lying there exposed in the cold dark room they had been found.
Most of the small talk I was sure he made for our benefit, his and my own, more so than the girls. He'd been hiding something about Seki; that much was certain. But the theories I had established as to the connection possibly existing there were more crazy and outlandish than the one's that came before it. Whatever the unique circumstances there, I came to realize that the long dead guardian was sympathizing with the plights of these people whom he did not even know. He embraced me as though he had known me for years and we understood each other, even though we may as well have been speaking different languages.
And when he collapsed on the outdoor deck, I saw in him what I had secretly been hoping to find. A vulnerability. This gentle soul had collapsed on his knees and was crying his eyes out for us. Maybe for himself at the same time.
And I had wanted him then. That had been the turning point for me. When Yutaka Watari became something more than a project Muraki had intended for me to undertake for his own personal benefit and instead became a real live person. A real live possibility. A creature I was capable of actually falling in love with.
It had been years since the last time I had ever allowed myself to think that way.
My heart told me to comfort him, whilst my head reminded me that I had a job to do. So, with his back to me, I retrieved the evidence from the case that Watari had cast aside in his haste to escape into the fresh air. Two of the bags containing the skin samples and the three semen samples. I slipped them into my pockets and then I sat down beside the guardian I had just betrayed, put my arms around his body and cried with him.
I felt like the biggest jerk on the planet.
I hadn't wanted to take the evidence, especially not from this man I barely knew. Watching the way he had treated everyone he came into contact with that day, the compassion and humor exuded in his voice and actions, revealed what a tender creature he was. I had grown fond of him quickly; of his sharp tongue, gentle disposition and considerate nature. But I needed to keep in mind the reason I had agreed to Muraki's request in the first place. To prevent him from taking further life. I wanted to find who had murdered my girls but I wanted to prevent the deaths of those that continued to exist in this world even more. My girls were dead; there was no changing that.
But I could take measures to prevent Muraki from killing again.
Sacrifices had to be made. That was my sin. And I was willing to wear that sin in the form of guilt as my retribution.
Normally I would have been able to live with this. But being around the lively genuine Watari and his simple, uncomplicated smile made me feel… dirty somehow.
I'd called in a favor with the local coroner and the bodies of Seki, Karu and Terumi had been taken away. The news of the murders was still unknown to the general public and I was doing everything in my power to keep it that way at least for a little while longer. Only a few close associates had any knowledge of the tragedy that had availed the Kokakuro. And the families of Karu and Terumi. Terumi's family had been devastated understandably by the news and was driving up to Kyoto the following day to confirm the identity of the body. Possibly also to tear chunks out of me. I think I deserved it at that point. Karu had never been close with her folks but they still appeared shocked by her murder. Her younger brother would also make his way to Kyoto the following day. I think he was more intent on confronting me then identifying the body. All in all, it had been one stressful day for Oriya Mibu of the Kokakuro. The anxiety in my mind manifested itself by a throbbing pain in my bung leg. Occasionally a sharp pain would shoot up and down the bone from ankle to knee.
I was having a difficult time disentangling the threads of my thoughts and it made it difficult to concentrate, which had never before been a problem with me.
I glanced up at the clock. Five-thirty five. At six we would start admitting customers into the Kokakuro. I had decided to open up business in the restaurant tonight, as a means of raising funds to deal with the dire financial straights the Kokakuro had come into since the murders. We would be allowing patrons to dine in the facility but further intimate activity with the girls had been delayed until a later date. The five remaining, experienced as they were, were none too eager to crawl under the sheets with someone only to be sliced across the throat. Until the perpetrator had been found, the Kokakuro had no secret identity. For the time being, it was going to be what it actually said on the label; 'An elite traditional restaurant.' Not so much elite even. The standards had dropped dramatically in that regard. When you have more money under your belt you can afford to be picky but not for anything less. An hour ago, I had placed the evidence in the work desk in my room, buried under a clutter of personal letters and bills that needed paying. I'd planned to return the evidence after a suitable amount of time had passed but I still felt awful. My heart felt as though I had thrown a heavy blanket over it. Every time I checked in on Watari during the day he'd been working at the computer, researching the sigil he'd found on the floor and trying to see if it matched any existing 'demon signatures' once broken down into separate portions. I didn't understand but I was relieved to hear that he wouldn't be analyzing the evidence until he had taken the requested samples from me and ruled me out as a possible suspect. I suggested that he delay doing so until he had thoroughly exhausted all possibilities surrounding the sigil. He had agreed with me and I planned to put off giving him my own samples until the very last minute. Cheap but it had to be done.
As jobs went, it was one of the least dirty tasks Muraki had asked me to perform. However it had to have been the most personally incriminating. This time I was helping a murderer other than Muraki get a head start on the Ministry of Hades. At the expense of my girls. And at the expense of this sweet natured guardian who smiled at me every time I passed the room where he was working so diligently.
My mind was divided over this situation I had come to find myself in. I couldn't uncover my reasons for accepting Muraki's request in the first place. It was an unusual request certainly. Why did he seem to think that Watari's absence would make any difference in his efforts to woe this Tsuzuki character? And who was to say that he wouldn't bring along another guardian as his escort? I suppose Muraki had already thought this through. Perhaps there was a reason why Tsuzuki would only bring Watari along with him. I imagine after the incident three months ago, none of the guardian's would have been exactly thrilled with Tsuzuki cavorting about with the slightly reformed serial killer with a medical degree. I would have to ask Watari about his feelings regarding Muraki and Tsuzuki's association.
I was working in the kitchen with the one and only remaining cook when Watari peeped his head inside and whistled at me. I ignored him. I'm not a dog. I don't come when people whistle at me. I sometimes won't even do it when they call my name.
He watched me carefully for a minute or two, his eyes boring into the center of my back as I sliced up the small handful of figs and set them to the side of the chopping board. I continued to act as though he wasn't there, focusing all my attention on making the slices even.
"Oriya?" Came the guardian's timid call.
I put the knife down and turned to face him, hand on my hip. "Why hello, dear Guardian of Death. What can I do for you this fine afternoon?"
He smiled congenially and adjusted his glasses by lifting up one of the lenses and releasing it. They bounced off of the crook of his nose before settling into place, even further down the arch then before. He didn't seem concerned however.
"I thought that you gave me all the knives in the establishment." He asked in what I took to be a cheeky tone. I stared back at him unwaveringly, wiping my hands off on the small towel I'd slung over the crook of my arm.
"Which was no easy task, I might so boldly say." Was my prim reply, as I cast the towel onto the bench beside me and retrieved the sharp cooking utensil and lowered it to resume my work. Then it clicked. "Oh… you mean this? No, no, no, no, no. All the knives you see currently are part of a new set I purchased today, after you appropriated all our old utensils. If we're to open up the restaurant, we'll need something to dice the food with and the Health Officials don't take kindly to us doing it with our teeth."
Yoshi, the cook, flashed a savage toothy grin, which earned him a chuckle from Watari and I.
"That's okay. I was just making sure that some of them hadn't slipped your mind." The blonde said, nodding apologetically at Yoshi. "I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience and I promise I'll have your kitchen utensils back to you as soon as I've ruled them out as possible murder weapon suspects!"
"Mr. Watari is a detective. He's currently investigating the murders." I explained to Yoshi, who wasn't aware of our guests' side occupation. Who wasn't supposed to know. "Try and keep it to yourself though. Very hush-hush." I looked over my shoulder at the blonde head peeking through the doorway, my slicing movements never ceasing. "Is there anything else, cher? I hate to hurry you along but with only Yoshi here I'm having to help out as much as I can and there's a lot to get done. You know what they say; 'Time is of the essence.'"
"Well, actually I can help with that. You see, I'm done with my investigations for the night, so I thought I could help out in the restaurant! You said that you were seriously understaffed," Said Watari, giving me the biggest doe eyes I'd ever seen on a grown man. It was sickening. Even more sickening was the fact that it actually worked. "After all, I am supposed to be playing secretary duty!"
"Couldn't hurt…" Yoshi stated in that same tone of voice that usually preceded a disastrous ironic situation. "I'm sure the girls could teach him the fundamental basics before the customers start arriving. What do you think Mibu?"
"Well…" I mused as I swished aside the diced olive and proceeded on to the raw codfish, slicing vertically down its' belly and delving my hands inside to remove its' guts. I noticed Watari looking a little queasy, despite the fact that this very morning he'd been handling dead bodies. Wuss. "We could use the extra hands…"
"Oh, you can count on me and my hands!" Watari boasted, thrusting both hands forward and wriggling his fingers confidently. "They're at your command, boss!"
Oh, the possibilities.
"Great, you can work Area 6." I declared, tearing the innards out of the cod and depositing them in a plastic waste bag near to my station. The 'Area's' in the Kokakuro referred to different sections of the restaurant, each of which would be assigned to a specific waitress. She would serve the customers in that section for the remainder of the night and would escort her patron to a private room in the evening. The girls were usually assigned to an area if an important VIP in that section had requested their company. However, since tonight the Kokakuro was open exclusively for dining purposes only, I did not have to concern myself with the assignment details.
"Area 6 should be fairly quiet," I elaborated, cutting the knife deep into the gills of the fish and slicing down. I did this on both sides and then tore the spine out, carefully as to avoid strewing bones throughout the meat. My cooking skills were good as far as I was concerned, but I would still never risk preparing the dangerous fugu. I left the blowfish dissection up to Yoshi and his years of culinary experience. "I have the girls covering Area's 1-5 which are usually the busiest. Fortunately, I won't have to worry about attending to anyone in the private roomsThat's always a pain in the ass."
"Language." Yoshi warned. If Akemi was my mother away from my mother, then Yoshi was my father away from my Papa.
"Well that's good to hear! 'Cause I'm already changed you know and 'twould be a real shame if I didn't get a chance to flaunt about in my brand new butler suit!" Watari exclaimed as he strutted into the kitchen like a peacock with a full fan of feathers. He spun in a circle showing off the very flattering and indeed rather tight uniform I had chosen for him. Yoshi and I both put down our implements in order to show our appreciation with a couple of half hearted claps. Watari posed haughtily, flung his loose hair about and waved his hands in the air.
"Please, no applause just stick yen in the hem of my trousers," He crooned, pulling on the waistband a little bit. I reached over and biffed him lightly on the rear end with a wooden spoon.
"Now, now, don't go getting cocky, it's most unflattering." I warned as he checked his backside for the remains of anything that might have been on the spoon. I indicated the hatch that allowed anyone in the kitchen to see out into the restaurant. "I'll be here for the entire night with Yoshi, so don't expect me to be babysitting you and leadin' you about by the arm."
"Oh, no sir!" He declared quickly, standing straight and tall like a Soldier being told off by his Sergeant Major. I was sorely tempted to biff him with the spoon again but I restrained myself.
"When you take an order from our patron's, you must remember to kneel no less than four feet from the table and bow until your nose touches the floor. You do not speak unless you are spoken to. You do not initiate conversation, you wait until they register your presence and then you may converse when they place their order. You will be quick and concise in your table manner. Address them with the appropriate title. You may not under any circumstances forfeit this formality, even if they ask that you do. Keep your answers short and to the point. Do not argue with the patrons in regards to anything because as much blackmailing leverage as I have over them, there's only so many allowances I can make. Be respectful and courteous at all times. However, if you do not receive the same manner in return from your patron's, please, do not take the matter into your own hands, come to me and I shall resolve the situation swiftly and effectively. Are we clear?"
Watari saluted, his expression stern. "Yes sir. Permission to speak sir."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be a smart ass. What do you want to say?"
"Did you schedule a toilet break in there anyway or is a gentleman expected to hold it all evening?"
I shot a sharp glance at Yoshi who was threatening to encourage Watari's antics by laughing at this jocular display of ridicule. I turned back to the blonde and deflated his attitude a little bit by bringing the spoon down firmly on the middle of his cranium.
"Idiot." I accused as he wobbled about unsteadily from the blow, clutching the top of his head as though it were about to erupt like a volcano. His face got that sad abused puppy dog look again and his bottom lip trembled.
"O-ri-YAAA!" He sobbed, sinking to his knees on the kitchen floor and rubbing at the part between his hair. "You didn't have to crack my skull open you know!"
"No I certainly did not," I replied, turning back to the chopping board as a means of effectively concealing my smile. "But it certainly felt good."
"Not to me it didn't!" The blonde whined. He mooched up behind me and stuck his head under my arm in order to see my face. He caught sight of my smile. "Ha! I can see you're not angry! So don't pretend like you are, you dumb old cranky face!"
I felt my smile grow a little wider as I passed the remains of the codfish over to Yoshi to slice up. Then I tightened my arm around Watari's neck so that he was effectively trapped in the crook of my elbow. As he struggled to free himself from my grip, I relayed the rest of his instructions.
"When it comes to serving drinks please bear in mind that this isn't a bar but customers will often treat it as though it is one. They'll be demanding refill after refill, at least that's what I'm hoping. When they do, follow the policy I previously explained and then return here with the drink order, which I will prepare. The same goes for meals. They will be placed on the heating tray here and then you are to deliver them to the patron. Bow when you deliver the meal. However, it is not necessary for them to adhere to your presence. Just put the meal in front of their faces, bow and dismiss yourself from their company. You do the same for drinks. Understand?"
Watari managed to nod as he tried to pry my arm off of his throat. "Erp… yep, understood! Finding it… kind of hard to breathe though!" I relaxed the muscles in my arms, allowing him to breathe without obstruction. As he stood there, clasping my arm and gasping at the air, I reached down and removed a strand of his blonde hair from his line of sight with one finger. I trailed the nail over his jaw and then tapped at the hairline just behind his right ear.
"You should tie your hair back too." I recommended, wishing I could have delved my fingers into it but not wanting to trail fish guts throughout the pretty blonde locks. "I personally would not object to you keeping it out but there could be trouble if any customers were to find yellow strands of your hair wrapped around their food."
He looked up at me slowly, his face unlined and expression unclear. His large amber eyes looked straight into my own, the way they always did whenever he spoke to someone. I watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips and became acutely aware of how his pulse sped up. It sounded like drums inside my head, beating loudly and swiftly, becoming faster and faster the longer we stood there looking into each other's eyes.
"Oriya…" He spoke softly, his fingernails gently moving against my skin, tickling the hair on my arms. The pads of his fingers felt warm. His eyes shone like an animal who had closed in on its' evasive prey.
The kitchen door slid open and Akemi was standing there, tapping her bare foot impatiently against the floor. I could see she was already dressed for the evening, her formal kimono sanctioned securely around her toned body and short blonde hair brushed back from her face. The four other girls wore their hair up in buns but I wasn't about to suggest that to Watari. Just imaging how a bun would look along with those glasses made me think of my scary middle-aged high school teacher with the dodgy perfume and bout of halitosis.
"Beau, would you stop harassing that poor boy and get back to work? It won't be long before the patron's start arriving!" She extended her hand out to Watari and came towards us. "Aww, is that big old nasty Oriya being cruel to you?" The little brat actually had the gall to nod and make his bottom lip tremble whilst giving her the doe eyes. As usual, I'd emerged as the villain of the piece. "Never you mind, dear. Just come along with me now and I'll show you the ropes. We'll leave grumpy old Oriya to wallow in his fish guts and think about what he's done."
"I know where you live and I know how to make a check bounce," I threatened as she led Watari off by the hand. They both blew raspberries at me as they disappeared out the door.
It was the beginning of a long night for Yutaka Watari of the Judgment Bureau.
For one thing, he found out about ten minutes into the night, that no one followed my strict 'Customer/Employee' policy at all. The patrons' were so familiar with the girls by this point, that there was no bowing when they knelt by the tables and conversation flowed as easily as the warm saké we served. I didn't especially care. I'd only tried to impose it on Watari because he was new and it had taken years for the relationships between the customers and my girls to evolve into this casual affair and I thought it appropriate that he start out more professionally. But once Area 6 started to fill up and he got to know some of the folks he was working for, I gave up on him too.
They may have been mostly snobby upper class toffs but they were a great laugh and rather personable. Watari mixed very easily with them and was accepted right away into their conversations. They were genuinely interested in his association with the Kokakuro, his personal pursuits, what he did with his life before he came to work here, ho hum. In fact, he got so involved in one particular conversation that I hurled the wooden spoon at him through the nook and clonked him square on the head in order to remind him of what he was supposed to be doing. It got a lively response throughout the restaurant.
So far, my fears had remained unsubstantiated for the most part. The patrons were aware as to the particulars of the Kokakuro that night and knew better than to proposition any of the girls. These were mostly a few of the regular customers, those in business and politics, the VIP's who frequented but made it their own business not to inform their wives upon returning home. However, since the restaurant had lowered its' standards tonight in a desperate bid to make financial ends meet, we were getting our fair influx of less knowledgeable customers who knew that they'd finally managed to secure seats in the infamous Kokakuro; house of prostitution and that's all the mattered. Most of which arrived late. And most of which were seated in Area 6.
I tried to assure myself that Watari was safe from any advancements because he was male but even this did not put my heart at ease. I'd had male employee's work as waiters before and even they were not above attracting the advances of the more 'experimental' patrons who wanted to extend their palette so to speak. And Watari was such a pretty male at that. Though he had a definitively masculine structure his features were at the same time quite delicate and his long wavy hair and flirtatious peppy manner made him perfect fodder for the more unreformed types we'd admitted that evening. Several passes had already been made at Dai, Miyamato and Akemi and I was certain that some of those roving eyes in Area 6 would start putting already entertained thoughts into action.
My concerns were verified when two of my regulars; Yoto Seguchi and Ahiro Sakano arrived by limo and were seated in Area 2 where Akemi was assigned. As soon as she had taken their orders I excused myself from Yoshi's good graces and made my way over to their table to catch up with them. Yoto was a burly comely man of thirty-five whom, as a result of having no wife and children, was able to frequent the Kokakuro without feeling guilty about it. Ahiro had a fiancée whom he was quite serious about but had been a patron of the Kokakuro before he met her. Now Ahiro only came to the Kokakuro to dine, keep Yoto company and shoot the breeze with me. He was a nice enough man, with a broad expressive face whilst Yoto too had his positive qualities but could become quite the vindictive womanizer whence inebriated by one too many drops of saké. I sat by their table, unable to kneel because of my leg and we heartily discussed the upsides and downfalls of business. Ahiro ran a small land surveying company in Himeji. Yoto was his partner, who handled the majority of the fieldwork whilst Ahiro 'crunched numbers' as he so lovingly put it. We were laughing over something medial when Watari bounced past, balancing the small wooden serving tray in the crook of his arm whilst chatting animatedly to Sonja. He saw me seated beside the two men and shook a finger sternly in my direction.
"Shouldn't you be doing something constructive in that kitchen, Mr. Mibu?" He asked in what I guess he thought passed for a scolding voice. "Together Everyone Achieves More you know? That's the meaning of TEAM right there!"
"Oh, sod off." I shot back. He cast me a look of over exaggerated indignation and then stalked off in a huff.
"Don't think Akemi's not going to hear about this!" He cried over his shoulder, winking at me to show that he was just being silly. I waved primly as though to send him on his way and he disappeared into the kitchen, balancing the tray table on his head, much to the amusement of Yoshi who started mimicking him with a tray full of hot food. I knew this was going to end in tears.
Yoto slapped his saké cup down so hard against the table I was surprised it did not snap in two. Judging by his red cheeks I could see that he'd downed a fair few during our conversation. I berated myself for not monitoring him more effectively.
"New guy, Ori?" He asked as Watari re-emerged from the kitchen with another meal, blonde ponytail swishing behind him as he walked. I nodded.
"Yes. He's filling in for Samai. And doing a bit of odd work in the restaurant also, as you can tell."
Ahiro nodded nostalgically as he raised his cup to his lips. "So Samai's gone, huh? Was she one of the one's that were… well... you know?"
I shook my head. "No. That was Karu, Terumi and Seki. Samai resigned and went back home."
"Aww, geez not Seki," Yoto groaned, taking a sip from his cup. "She was gorgeous that girl. In all aspects, ya know? Just a nice person, straight up."
"Yes, she was a darling." I agreed, wondering if I would have the chance anytime soon to mourn her. Watari came flouncing back from Area 6 and gave a little wave as he made his way over to chat with Akemi. Yoto appeared to be observing him very carefully as he swirled the contents of his cup around and around the base in a never ceasing circle of contemplation. His eyes seemed for the most part unfocused but I got the feeling that his brain was working just fine, regardless of his body's surrender.
"You know… he looks a little like Seki, don't you think?" He mused, placing the glass down for a second. His finger traced the outline. "What's his name, this new boy you got?"
I wasn't sure whether I should use Watari's full name as someone might have made the connection with his death twenty-two years ago but he didn't seem altogether that concerned. I guess it could always be passed off as a very alarming coincidence if anyone thought to check.
"Yutaka Watari." I said wincing as a sharp pain erupted suddenly from my ankle, shooting all the way back up to my knee and then traveling into my thigh and jarring along the bottom disks of my spine. Ahiro noticed my discomfort.
"Your leg still causing you trouble, Oriya?"
I nodded and pushed a gust of air out harshly from between my teeth, rubbing the leg along the calf muscle and paying particular attention to the ankle.
"Yeah… it's never been the same since the accident." I sighed and blew a clump of my bangs out of my vision. "Hurts all the time but… it's easily dismissible." I flashed a small smile and then turned my attention back to Yoto. "I'm sorry, what were you saying? He looks like Seki? Do you think?" I looked over at Watari who was bouncing around on his toes as he Akemi and Dai chatted away over something. Probably shampoo. "Hmm… I suppose he does. But it's really only the hair in which I can see any similarity. Although… his eye color is very much alike… not to mention his personality. Seki was always on the energetic side, wasn't she?"
"Well I wouldn't know what this Yutaka is like but he seems nice enough. Good sense of humor from what I can tell." Yoto got that deviant look on his face and leant across the table to include me in his mischievous indulgences. "You've always been fairly sound at judging people, old boy. Tell me, what do you think of him? Honestly."
I glanced over at Watari, shrugged and continued to massage my ankle. "Honestly? He's just a regular guy next door. He's very nice, intelligent… has a doctorate… erm… good sense of humor as you can see… Very compassionate, gets on well with people…"
"Yes, yes, that's all well and lovely Mibu but I was actually angling to hear something a bit more frothy than that." Yoto sniped, sounding as though he were disappointed in my lack of imagination. Ahiro rolled his eyes from behind his cup, as though nothing less was expected from Yoto Seguchi.
I raised an eyebrow. "By… frothy… I assume you want me make a personal judgment on his physical assets. Would I be right in saying so?"
"Hey, now we're talking!" Yoto cheered, flapping the flat of his hand against my chest. I wiped my yukata off as I peered over at Watari. Scoping someone out just so I could relay my thoughts on their 'form' to an associate felt all too much like I'd regressed back to high school. Though Muraki and I had never been your typical teenagers granted.
"Well?" Yoto prompted as my eyes traveled all over Watari's body in visual rape. "Oh come on, Oriya! How long can it possibly take to ascertain a desirable physical feature about that guy? Sheez, you'd think I'd asked you to deconstruct the lost language of the Inca's! Just tell me what draws your eye!"
Well I could have mentioned his long blonde hair, or his pretty eyes or his long legs and slender waist but of course me being me, I had to mention the one aspect which had me labeled 'King Kyoto Pervert forever' for the rest of my natural born days.
"He has a nice bum."
Yoto looked positively delighted and I got a jolly smack across the shoulder for my honesty. As soon as the words left my mouth I knew I'd made an awful, un-erasable mistake.
"Uh… which is to say that…"
"Which is to say that you wanna fuck him!" Yoto crowed, delivering a complimentary smack of celebration to Ahiro and causing him to upend most of his saké into his lap. "That's the first thing you noticed? Well we all know where your mind is at Mibu!"
All right, now that was going too far. He was all but yodeling that I wanted to have untamed and frantic sex with Yutaka. Of course I wanted to have untamed and frantic sex with Yutaka but he didn't have to declare it for the whole world to hear. It made me sound kind of shallow.
"That is ridiculous!" I declared, climbing to my feet and wincing again from the stabbing pains in my left leg. "I refuse to dignify those statements with a response."
"Ah, that's what they always say when they're trying to deny the truth!" Yoto stated as he stared up at me defiantly. Ahiro was reaching one hand over the table and trying quietly and ineffectively to calm him. I turned on my heel.
"This conversation is forfeit." I snapped, hoping that no one in the vicinity, namely my blonde haired guest, had heard any of the previous exchange. Yoto called over to me even as I was walking away.
"Well, if you're not keen, mind if I take a crack then?"
I ground my teeth together to keep from saying something I'd regret. Honestly, it was school all over again. 'No' meaning, "Yes" and Yes meaning "Hell YES." A negative was just a shy affirmative whilst a hesitant affirmation usually meant you wanted them here and now in a kinky ménage e cinq. I was in the mood to punch something. And my leg was still throbbing.
I stalked back into the kitchen, the loose strands of my hair breezing out behind me as I walked. Yoshi knew better than to say anything when I had that irritable look on my face and simply continued working as though nothing was out of the ordinary. I picked up the stray knife I had left behind previously and set to work slicing up some beef strips for a stir-fry that I was preparing. I was so angry and worked up that I cut about two inches into the chopping board before I managed to get a handle on my emotions. The door slid open behind me and I eased my chin up over my shoulder to admit the intruder into my sight.
Watari stepped into the kitchen, his expression deeply concerned.
"Are you all right, Ori? You seem upset." He took a few steps closer, arms crossed casually over his chest whilst he tilted his body non-threateningly in order to bring his face closer to me. "Were those men saying ugly things to you?" His voice got lower. He sounded angry, as though he had a bone to pick with Yoto and Ahiro now just for the mere suggestion that they may have imposed some form of insult on me.
I continued to chop the beef, not wanting to appear rude but at the same time feeling awfully guilty for the unknown pervasion I had leveled against the sweet natured blonde only moments before. I was undeserving of such concern.
Was I to be honest? Or was I to veil the details of our discussion to preserve my credibility? I mused over that momentarily and in those few seconds, Watari had come even closer to me. I wondered whether guardian's had the ability to move more rapidly than mere mortals because he had covered five or so feet without appearing to have adjusted the stance of his body at all. I still couldn't think of what to say. My leg ached. I couldn't concentrate. The knife in my hand flashed, the silver blade winking in the above light as it cut downward, each slice becoming faster and faster even to my own eyes. I was damn near biting through my lip.
What the hell was wrong with me? It seemed as though I was losing control of my body. Yoshi had stopped what he was doing to stare at me, the knife in his hand dripping juices from the meat he had been cutting. Watari was moving closer and closer in that way he did, without even moving his feet. I could feel sweat breaking out on my forehead.
"OW!" My cutting spree came to a standstill as I felt the sharp blade of the knife slice through the skin of my thumb. I looked down at the cutting board. All the meat was neatly sliced. Each individual strip was identical to the last. The slices were perfect. My precision and reflexes had always been phenomenal but this… this was beyond even me. I had done it in about ten seconds without even thinking about it. The wooden chopping board had been divided into at least six separate sections; the tiny knife stained red in my hand had not even bent from the thick wood. I had performed a routine chore at an unmanageable and powerful speed. So powerful I had cut through wood with a small thin blade and had not even registered it.
"Oh, Ori you're bleeding!"
I glanced at my thumb. Blood was welling out from the thick vertical slice and sliding in a three-branched prong down my hand. I quickly moved it away from the food, only to find it wrapped between Watari's own warm palms. His eyebrows were furrowed as he applied pressure to the small cut, gesturing to Yoshi wildly with his head. "'S'cuse me! Do you have a first aid kit in here?"
Yoshi was still staring at the chopping board, stunned. His eyes went from the mutilated wood, to my hands and then to my face.
"Tell me I'm just getting old, Mibu." He suggested uncertainly.
"You're just getting old, Yoshi." I repeated, gratified that my voice emerged cool and even from my lips. I was shocked by my slip. I was usually in complete control of my disability.
It had been happening more and more regularly since the incident in Kyoto three months ago. When I thought Muraki had been killed. I couldn't maintain my disability when I was stressed. Anxiety had a tendency to send it flying in all directions, which was very dangerous in my particular situation. I certainly wasn't the only one in the family to receive this double-edged sword but it supposedly grew weaker as the line grew longer. However, I'd been blessed with the gifts of my forefather's at their strongest, whereas my parents, my two sisters and my younger brother all possessed weaker elements of the Mibu disability.
It allowed them to live fairly normal lives. And whilst they tended to look on me as 'gifted,' my disability had ruined everything in my life I had promise for.
I could feel my mind quaking to the very boarders. Somewhere, deep inside of me I had started to lose control of my dangerous, powerful gift.
Yoshi handed Watari the first aid kit and the pretty blonde immediately propped it open on the bench and started to search through it. "Ah, you silly sod, you've nicked yourself quite well there haven't you? Keep the pressure up… ah, here we go!" He pulled out a small roll of thin bandages and a yellow BandAid, decorated with little ducks holding umbrellas. I responded with an eloquent; "Eh?"
He cleaned the little cut first and then went to put the BandAid on. I pulled my thumb away and then held it up to his face.
"It still hurts." I told him. Which was true, though in light of my training in Aikido and kendo, a little cut on the finger was nothing. Watari made light of this as he gently took my hand and gave it a condescending pat.
"Aww… did the big tough samurai get a boo-boo? He needs to be more careful when playing with knives then, because sharp pointy kitchen utensils can be lethal to human beings you know?" He grinned at me and then planted a small kiss on the cut, wrinkling his nose at the taste left behind by the chemical he had used to clean it with. "Yuck! Remind me next time when I kiss and make better to do it before I clean up your mortal injuries! Now, let's get that finger covered up so you can get back to cooking without dripping your vampire blood all throughout people's meals."
"I'm not a vampire." I informed him wearily, prying open my mouth and pointing out my canine's. "Maybe if I was, I wouldn't have needed so many fillings as a kid."
"Well that's what you get for eating so much candy, you naughty boy!" The blonde said in a way that somehow managed to sound sexually insinuating. He finished wrapping my finger and packed the left over supplies back into the case. "Voila! It's out of my hands now Mr. Mibu but I believe that you may just survive this harrowing experience. Take two kiddie's aspirin and call me in the morning!"
Sarcastic sod. "Thankyou doctor, you were wonderfully attentive."
He beamed. "Better than Muraki, right?"
I wondered if he had some kind of internal competition going with Muraki. I decided to indulge him if in fact he did and nodded. "Of course! Muraki never kissed my injuries better. I believe I shall recover twice as fast due to your attentive care."
"You know it!" He replied spunkily. "So, why did you get so worked up for in the first place? Were those men being nasty to you? Would you like me to go and have words?"
I laughed at the image and shook my head. "No, that won't be necessary. Believe me I have been perfectly capable of handling my own disagreements long before I met you young Yutaka. Besides, it wasn't an argument per say… more so…" I paused, not knowing how to finish the sentence.
"'More so,' what?" Watari pressed, his face incredibly naïve and unaware. He looked so adorable with that expression that I couldn't help but smile. He appeared even more confused as I chuckled softly under my breath.
"What is it? Did I say something funny?" He asked putting his hands on his hips and raising an eyebrow at me. I shook my head a little to discourage his annoyance.
"I'm sorry… you just looked so cute." I chuckled again as a pink flush spread across Watari's face, on the pale rise of his cheeks just beneath the lower arch of his glasses. He bit his lip, smothering an embarrassed sound that might have been a giggle. He was a lovely little creature. His blush spread outward even further as I leant forward and pulled him in close to my body, squeezing him like I would a soft toy and murmuring my satisfaction. "Ahhh… you're something. You know that don't you?"
"Well… it's always nice to have it reconfirmed!" He squeaked. I could feel his hands quivering at my sides as though he wasn't sure whether he was allowed to hold me or not. I reached one hand down to take his fingers and wound them around my waist. "It's all right. You can touch me if you want. Don't be afraid to."
I waited for his reaction and was rewarded by the feeling of his body slowly relaxing against mine. I could sense his eyes shutting and the weight of his head came to rest in on the center of my chest, his fingers tentatively tapping at the ridges of my spine through my yukata, as though they were the keys of a piano. And that was no tune of 'Chopsticks' that he strummed out with the flow of his fingers. He had some experience and knew how to produce the most complicated and rewarding tune in my body. It sang through every influx of nerve endings, awakening the usually slow and methodic pulses that lined my blood and muscles until all my being danced to the rhythm of his fingertips. He ignited a spark in me that had not been alight for so many years now. Even the aching of my leg and the blanket over my heart surrendered to this powerful and unobtrusively passionate feeling.
I looked down at him. He was holding me the way I might have held a lover I had known for years rather than just a day. He wasn't afraid to care for someone with the intensity that I would only exhibit only after a certain amount of time had expired. There was a smile on his face as though he'd entered through the gates of Heaven when I had admitted him within the fold of my arms.
I ran my uninjured hand across the crown of his head, inhaling the clean scent of his hair. I liked this sense of closeness. I liked that this long dead creature was able to bring to life in me the long dead desires I had lain to rest those many years ago. And I liked that he didn't seem to want anything in return from me. Only this. Only this simple happiness, which cost no money but was the richest most rewarding gift that anyone could give. The chance that someone could hold you and you wouldn't concern yourself with their ulterior motives or what negative thoughts they may or may not have been entertaining about you. It was nice to put it simply, to be around someone with whom you felt so comfortable. Who you felt comfortable in knowing that they were content in admitting you without any bias thoughts and you could so easily just take them into your arms and not have them judge you.
I felt that if Yutaka Watari loved you, he could forgive you anything.
"Hey, come on guys. I have to prepare food here you know." Yoshi said grimly, trying not to look a little disturbed by the display. He'd always known that I have loved both men and women but in any case I was never an exhibitionist with my feelings. Hugging in public for me was a big deal, not that Watari would have known that.
Watari stuck his tongue out at the cook and lifted his head from my chest to look into my face. I didn't let him go. I folded my hands together and clamped them into the hollow of his back, keeping his body pressed against mine. He looked happy to remain there and casually rested his hands in the center of my chest. Whatever he had been about to say, suddenly went by the way side.
"Ooh… defined…" He mused like a brain dead bimbo, running his hands down my chest. He continued moving them until they settled on my stomach and I bit back a grin from the tickling sensation caused by his groping fingers. "You don't even have a little tummy like me! You have a beer belly!"
I nearly nailed him into the floor.
"A what!"
"You know, like a six pack of beer!" He sang with a big smile, not realizing that he had swiftly ducked the scythe of the Grim Reaper for the second time running. His eyes widened. "You didn't think I meant a keg, did you?" He held out his arms as far from his body as he could, wobbling from side to side in his impression of an individual with a large stomach. "You silly bugger! You don't have a keg! I don't think you have a shred of fat on you!"
I arched an eyebrow. "If you would like to be sure of your hypothesis doctor, perhaps I could arrange a thorough check up with you sometime. You do make house calls, don't you?"
Wow, now that was bold, especially for me. I wasn't renowned for flirting. I could blackmail better than just about anyone on the damn planet but when it came to sending signals my sister said it best when she told a previous girlfriend; "He couldn't flirt his way into a Sexual Addicts Club." I would have taken her up on that but I was afraid she would have won the bet, which would have sent me into hiding for the rest of my life.
Watari went red again but he was laughing at the same time. "Well, I suppose I can make room on my busy schedule for you one of these day's. You're in for a grave disappointment though if you think I'll be dressing up in one of those sexy nurses outfits for you."
I smiled. "That's quite all right. You just wear your lab coat and I'll be one very satisfied patient." Oh my, Yoto was right. My brain was down a very dirty alleyway at this point, waiting to drag the poor helpless Yutaka behind a wheelie bin to have its' way with him. I needed a good smack around the head. Specifically. Anywhere else at this point would only work to further provoke my condition.
Watari was still blushing when he leant up to give me a little kiss on the cheek. My hand slid slowly down his spine and came to rest on his buttocks, my fingers spreading out to gather the soft flesh in a brief squeeze. I hadn't been lying to Yoto; the guardian did indeed possess a very well defined backside. I could feel Watari's hands rubbing at my bare arms, pausing to let his thumbs massage my funny bone and fingers to trace the rough skin of my elbow. The blood finally left his face as his thoughts turned from casual flirting to what we had been previously discussing.
"Oriya are you sure there is nothing you want to tell me about those men? I heard a few snippets of your conversation. I wasn't trying to listen in or anything but I caught a name here and there…"
This brought me back to reality. I turned my face a little, regarding him from the corner of my eye, my thumb rubbing a gentle circle against his buttock. He didn't seem embarrassed by the act. "Such as…?"
If he noticed the caution in my voice he didn't show it. The movements with his hands never ceased. "You mentioned Seki and Karu… you must have mentioned Terumi too. Do they know about the murders?"
"Yes. They were the first two I informed. They have some links with the police. They've helped me keep a lot of this quiet so far."
"I also heard my name."
"Ah." I said simply. He was sharp; I'd give him that. Because he was so breezy and energetic, it kept slipping to the side of my thoughts the reality of Watari's presence here. That he was investigating the murders and that he was going to be paying close attention to the conversations that took place in the restaurant, in case any one of my patron's had something to do with it.
I indicated casually at Yoto through the hatch and Watari followed my gaze. Yoto's eyes had been on us the whole time, or more specifically, they had been on Watari. He'd been staring so intently that I wondered whether he was counting his eyelashes. Watari cocked his head, clearly unaware of the attention being mentally lavished upon him.
"He asked me to indicate whether or not I had a physical attraction to you." I told him, blurring the specifics of the conversation slightly. When I knew Watari a little better I would gladly compliment him on his stunning posterior and to his face at that. "He is attracted to you himself. He has been watching you carefully for quite some time now."
"He needs to get his eyes checked then." Watari grumbled as he gave my arm a little squeeze. "If his eyes should be on anyone, they should be on you. You're the best looking thing in this restaurant tonight."
If I was the blushing sort, I undoubtedly would have gone red at this comment. As it was, I just smiled at him and gave his bottom a little pat.
"What a kind thing to say." I said. "But I am not misleading you. I don't think you realize how precarious your presence is in this kind of place. You're just the right kind of… compromise that some men look for."
He looked at me, clearly confused. "Right kind of 'compromise?' What ever do you mean by that?"
I laughed and put both hands on my hips, shaking my head a little. "You are border line between being both naïve and brilliant my dear guardian. And I don't think you are nearly as innocent as you pretend to be." I gave his nose a little flick and he flashed just the hint of a smile as if to say that my suggestion had merit. Then he straightened his glasses.
"Were he and his friend close to any of the girls did you know?"
I knew what he was getting at but I didn't say anything about it, remaining purposefully ignorant. "Yoto, that's the one who has been looking this way, was very fond of Seki. She was his favorite."
I watched to see if there was any visible reaction in Watari but I was kind of disappointed to see him only nod as he rubbed his chin with the bridge of his index finger, as though mulling over something. His face was closed in.
"And the one whom is with him?"
"Ahiro Sakano. Used to frequent the Kokakuro but now only comes here to dine and accompany Yoto. He's engaged now but his favorite used to be a girl whom no longer works here. She left after the murders."
I saw Watari's face open up as though a flower had bloomed right in the very center and he gave a short laugh, which was every bit as carefree as a young child who'd just received a new Christmas present.
"Well, I should very much like to go and introduce myself." He said at hand, making his way over to the kitchen door and sliding it open. "I think I'll ask them a few questions concerning the murders. Would you accompany this young man, Oriya? He wouldn't want to intrude on those old snobs if they don't want his company."
"Would you show a little more respect?" I scolded, moving over to the doorway and grabbing his arm to keep him from getting too far ahead of me. "They're not old, Yoto is a year younger than me and Ahiro is two years older. And calling them 'snobs' is really a matter of opinion."
"I guess if you were a snob you might not think they were snobby." Watari mused as we made our way out into the restaurant. I got the feeling that half veiled comment was being leveled at me and didn't appreciate it. He got a hard pinch in the arm for his efforts. I knew it was too much to hope that it bruised.
We approached the table, me keeping one hand on Yutaka's inside elbow at all times. Yoto had been talking with Ahiro before we'd arrived but accepted our presence with favorable hospitality.
"Oriya, nice of you to join us again." He said cheerfully as I guided Watari onto his knees at the head of the table. I bobbed my head momentarily and placed my hand on Yutaka's lower back, pushing forward a little to persuade him to bow deeply. The blonde's back was as stiff as a board. Either he didn't get the hint or he was purposefully ignoring me. I pinched his inside elbow to get him to pay attention but he just flashed me a dirty look.
"Are you in a better mood now?" Yoto asked conversationally, seemingly unperturbed by Watari's reluctance to bow. He took a sip from his saké and leered over the curl of the cup. "I'd certainly be piped up after all that attention you were getting in the kitchen."
I'm sure you would be.
Ahiro sensed the tension and was kind enough to break it by bowing his head at Watari from across the table. "Oriya told us a little about you. Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Watari. My name is Ahiro Sakano and this somewhat socially unfit gentleman across the table is Yoto Seguchi."
Instead of bowing back, Watari merely grinned and made a 'V' sign with his fingers. "Pleasure! Nice to meet you both!" He trilled, flashing a wink that managed to include them both. I buried my face in my palm, wondering if I pinched him hard enough his arm would fall off. That way he might start taking the situation seriously.
Yoto was delighted by Watari's break from social norm however. "Aren't you the sweet one?" He observed, drinking in his body as steadily as the saké in his hand. Watari's smile never wavered, but rather grew until it very near wrapped itself around his head and tied itself in a bow at the back. But he didn't blush. This to me appeared very telling. It suggested that he was not taking Yoto's comments to heart like he did mine.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that." He said confidently which froze both men in their actions. Watari had handled that compliment more capably then they had been expected. Because he was blonde and posing as a secretary I assumed that deep down they had adopted this manner because they took him to be a bimbo, regardless of my mentioning that he had a doctorate. After the initial shock wore off, both men laughed and there was humor in their tone.
"I would like to ask you both some questions. If you wouldn't mind?" Watari asked with that still same smile on his face. The more I observed him, the more concerned I became over the smile. There was something wrong with it. There was too much warmth in it. So much warmth, it appeared entirely counterfeit.
Both men exchanged glances. Ahiro set down his drink and edged closer to the end of the table, inclining his dark head. "In regards to what?" He asked carefully and you could tell that he was already suspicious of Watari. I wrapped my fingers around the blonde's elbow again and held them there, prepared to distribute a squeeze if I thought he was heading in a dangerous direction. I wasn't sure what approach he was going to take in addressing his questions to the pair but regardless of his intelligence, I still felt somewhat obligated to guard him against possible trips.
"I'm looking into the murder's that occurred here at the Kokakuro," Watari said smoothly, lowering his voice so that the four of us were the only one's included in the conversation. Ahiro's brows furrowed even more.
"Are you with the police?" He asked slowly and I distributed a pinch into Watari's inside elbow, trying to remind him without words of what I had just told him in the kitchen. That these two men, Ahiro specifically, were keeping the police out of it. That the murders were not public knowledge yet. Watari flashed me another dirty look and pinched me back, right on the thigh. Hard enough to leave a good bruise. His expression told me that I deserved it.
"No sir." He said to Ahiro and the other man relaxed about two hairs. "Can you keep a secret? Oriya hired me. I'm a private investigator, as well as being a super swell secretary! Would you mind indulging me and answering a few questions?"
Ahiro said, "Certainly," as he rested back comfortably onto his mat. Yoto winked.
"I'd be happy to indulge you, poppet."
Watari winked back. "Now, aren't you guys the good sports?" Before I could so much as impose another painful little reminder about being courteous before VIP's, Watari had pulled three small head shot photo's from the inside pocket of his vest and set them out on the table slowly, face down. He proceeded to flip them over, one at a time and then face down again once he had left them exposed for thirty seconds at the most. Ahiro and Yoto studied them carefully.
"Oriya tells me that you sir, was a patron here before your engagement. Congrats by the way!" Ahiro smiled as Watari gave a little clap of appraisal. "And that you, Mr. Seguchi, are currently still attending, no?"
"That is correct." Yoto confirmed as he filled up his glass to the brim. Watari flipped the pictures over again.
"What I would like to know, is whether or not either of you associated with any of these three girls after hours?" He gave both men a very stern once over. "From the information I have gathered so far, I have learnt that these girls went out the night that they were murdered but then returned to the Kokakuro possibly with the people they met. Judging by the lack of any signs of struggle in the room, it is possible that the girls were already familiar with the people they had met. I am not suggesting that either of you gentlemen are responsible for what has happened here. What I am hoping to find out is if these three had a particular haunt that they liked to frequent. Going there might be a first step in the right direction."
I was pleasantly surprised at how calm and courteous he was being towards Yoto and Ahiro. I watched as both men looked the pictures over again and became aware of how intently Watari was studying their faces. Searching for something that might incriminate them, or reveal their involvement. But these men were very much like me. We'd learnt long ago had to maintain an impenetrable poker face.
Ahiro pointed at Terumi's picture and then Karu's. "I have been with these two on separate occasions. Though it was years ago now." He examined Seki's picture. "I have not been with her. Terumi and I went into Kyoto together once. We visited a club called, 'Ra's Sunline.' … Come to think of it, she did mention that she and some of her friends visited the place on a regular basis. But as I said, it was some time ago."
"Better than nothing." Watari encouraged, whipping out a pen and paper from the opposite pocket that he had pulled the photos from and scribbling down the name of the bar. "Thankyou very much, sir. And you, Mr. Seguchi? Is there anymore that you could add that may be of help in the investigation?"
Yoto pointed to Seki's picture. "I have been with Seki almost every visit to the Kokakuro. We talked about a lot of things but we never met after hours." He gazed out thoughtfully over the rim of his drink. "It's hard to believe any sonofabitch, s'cuse my language, was capable of hurting an angel like that. I always said she was in the wrong place. Guess the arrogant part of me thought that I could save her but… ah, she didn't want saving. Didn't need it, she said. That's the kind of girl Seki was though. Life here was a blessing, she said. Why save her from a blessing? Told her I'd marry her and take her out of here but I knew she'd be happier here then she ever would be with me."
This was news to me. I'd never known Yoto had such strong feelings about Seki before.
Watari cocked his head at Yoto, his smile soft. "That was a very kind gesture, Mr. Seguchi. Did you love her?"
He nodded, his thoughts way back somewhere in the past where I had never reached, though I'd never been anywhere else. There was so much I had missed between these walls.
"I thought I did. Still think I do. I told her once and she just smiled, way you're smiling now and kissed my cheek."
"Did she love you?"
Watari's expression had come down. These questions he seemed to want the answers to more than he had the previous one's.
Yoto sighed. "Said she did. Said she loved me but… didn't need me. Seki always told me that she only ever needed the support of the people around her and never the support of one. She seemed to think that one person alone could never give her all that she needed. However, if you put your faith in people as a group, then there's always someone to depend on. Even if someone dies. Even if someone fails you-''
Watari stood up suddenly and bowed so deeply his upper body was parallel with the floor. I could hear his breaths shuddering.
"Yutaka?" I asked uncertainly.
"I'm terribly sorry for your loss." Watari said quickly, his head still bowed and eyes hidden beneath the loose tresses of hair left free from his ponytail. He was trying so hard to sound composed but his voice quavered under the weight of whatever emotions he kept concealing. "Thankyou very much for answering my questions. That's all of your time I'll be needing. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
He didn't straighten up.
"Watari?" I stood up and moved next to him, leaning my face down to try and see his expression. His breaths were labored.
"Can you take me back to the kitchen please Oriya?" He asked so softly I barely heard him. I nodded and placed my hand atop his stomach and the other on the back of his neck, gently pulling his upper body back into alignment with his waist. As his face came up, I saw that his eyes were blurry behind his glasses. But he flashed me an encouraging smile regardless.
"Phew… thanks. Bad back, y'know? Shouldn't bow so low when you're as unfit as I am." He was lying but it wasn't exactly any of my business to ask why. I nodded my head at both Ahiro and Yoto; picked up the photos and the notepad Watari had left on the table and handed them back to him. He tucked them both into his pockets, smiled gratefully at me and we started to make our way back to the kitchen. I'd had years of experience concealing my emotions, so I knew very well when somebody else was doing it. I noticed the ritualistic straightening of Watari's spine, the corner of his bright and very fake smile quivering to keep from being tugged into a slope, his eyes trying to fight back tears. Something Yoto said had really rocked him. Something personal. I could no longer believe that Watari's sadness stemmed from his sympathy of our plight alone. Something was troubling his soul and shaking his heart very deeply. I wanted to reach out, pull him against me and rock him in my arms regardless of where we were. The poor darling was trying to be so brave and he was attempting to fight off something very incriminating all on his own.
That blanket over my heart grew even heavier with the sadness in that guardian's eyes.
And of course it had to have been that moment when he was dealt a very disrespectful blow.
The restaurant had been hopping with excitement; discussions and theories spitballing off of the corners and ricocheting from table to table. I put down what happened next to this enthusiasm and the fact that tonight some of the more unruly residents of Kyoto had been allowed admittance into the Kokakuro and were treating it like a public bar, since they seemed to think our standards had dropped as a result of our doors opening wider. And it happened to be at that select moment when Watari was feeling a little sensitive, that one of the newbies; a broad man with jet black hair and ruddy features, slid his hand up the back of the blonde's thigh and stole a firm squeeze of his buttocks.
That sort of thing just doesn't happen at the Kokakuro.
Watari's reaction was a little unexpected. He was a confident and capable chap but I just don't think he had it in him to put the guy in his place just then. He merely frowned, blew a strand of hair from his face and then in a surprise move, picked up the guys bottle of saké from the center of the table.
I could see where this was going. He was going to bring that bottle down on the offender's head, which would only cause trouble for him. Not that he wasn't justified for doing so of course. Fortunately, I have handled this sort of situation more times then I'd care to name and it only took a second before I had my fingers wrapped around the young man's wrist and had yanked his hand away from Watari, pushing the lithe blonde back with my arm at the same time. Watari stared at me in amazement and then followed the line of my arm until it ended with my rigid fingers squeezing more and more tightly around the patron's thick wrist. I didn't see why he should have looked so stunned. I tightened my grip until the young man started yelping in pain, letting him know the full seriousness of what he had done.
"Now that I have your attention, I would like you to apologize to this gentleman," I said indicating to Watari with my head. The patron attempted to yank his hand away but I held on tight.
"Let me go!" He yelped, his ruddy face getting even darker as my grip increased. "Come on man, I didn't mean nothin' by it!"
"You'll get your hand back when you apologize." I stated, seating myself down on the corner of the table and casually examining the nails of my free hand whilst the man struggled against my hold. I crossed my legs and relaxed every muscle in my body except for the one's in my hand. "I could sit here all night you know, just making my fingers tighter – '' I tightened them. " – and tighter – '' again I tightened them. Tears were springing in the young man's eyes. " – I could happily sit until dawn if I had to. I can go four days without sleep. And I can make sure that you do too. If that's how long it takes to get an apology out of your grimy little mouth I'll do it."
"Why should I apologize? Because I didn't pay the damn guy before I touched him!" The man shouted between his tightly clenched teeth. Now we had the entire restaurant's attention.
My eyes narrowed. "You should apologize because you do not touch anyone in this establishment without their permission. It's the rule. You shall treat everyone here with the courtesy and respect that you would accord your own mother. Is that understood? Now, am I to hear an apology from your smart mouth, or shall I escort you outside?"
I didn't get an apology. The guy actually had the gall to take a swing at me. Because of my reflexes, not to mention the pain I was inflicting on his caged wrist, the blow seemed to take a million years to come towards my face. I had plenty of time to move out of the way but to anyone watching it must have happened in a split second. When time sped back to normal, I had the man on his feet, both wrists pinned behind his back as though I were a policeman making an arrest. I started herding him towards the door, damn near lifting him off of his feet when he tried to slow me down.
"Get your damn ass out the door," I told him coldly, twisting my head back to the table where he had been seated and glaring at his friend. "And you – feel free to go with him. That sort of behavior is not condoned at the Kokakuro. Perhaps you would feel more at home at a bar, or even a nice dingy alleyway. I'll give you one more second to apologize before I stop being polite."
"Go to Hell!"
"All right, if that's the way you're going to be." I continued on towards the door, pushing the ruddy-faced man before me whilst his wiry blonde haired companion trudged along behind me. As we reached the door and I pushed it open with my hand I decided to say a word to him. After all, he hadn't been the one to impose the insult.
"I apologize for this because I'm aware that you were not at fault. However rules are rules and we must be consistent in our appli-'' My words were sliced through brutally as the ruddy faced man twisted free from my grip and threw me off balance. My reflexes went haphazard and I didn't see the kick coming until it was too late. His big square foot cracked into my left knee with so much force I was nearly thrown through the air. The most excruciating pain shot through my leg, so complete in its infliction that my brain very nearly closed in on itself. My bad leg… he had kicked my bad leg! I couldn't stand on it; the pain was too severe. I could feel sweat pock marking my forehead and I was screaming and gasping, leaning on the wall. Even touching the toes of that foot to the floor was excruciating. Like burning spears had been shoved into every spare inch of skin and muscle tissue, every tendon and bone alight.
"GET OUT!" I roared slamming the door in their faces as hard as I was able. I hope I broke their noses. Heck, I hope I broke their necks. I was in too much pain to care about the consequences of my actions. Gasping and biting my lip, I managed to limp back into the main area of the restaurant where I emerged to everyone's concerned stares. They'd heard me screaming of course. Yoshi was looking through the hatch at me. Akemi bustled over and pressed her hands to both sides of my face. She could tell without my saying a word that I was in absolute agony.
"They hit your leg didn't they, beau? You know you have to be careful! More people then you'd care to think know about your leg! Oh darling, you can barely walk!" She tried to move under my arm to support me but I gently pushed her aside. I needed to get out of the room, away from people's eyes. I limped across the room, pushing open the patio doors and emerging onto the deck where earlier that day Watari and I had cried together. Encompassing pain took me and I barely managed to move out of the sight of the patrons' inside before I collapsed, dragged down in unconsciousness and into angry dreams that lapped like burning razors at the corners of my mind.
- EC -
Watari: OH NO! Ori, what happened to you!
Oriya: Don't panic. You'll find out next chapter.
Watari: But I don't wanna wait that long! I'll worry about you in the meantime!
Oriya: (Confused) How can you worry? This fic is set in the past. I'm all right now. You know what was wrong with me.
Watari: (Hurriedly shushes him) SHHHH! You just have to ruin the drama don't you? (Sighs and shakes his head)