Dark Adaptation
Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei is the property of Yoko Matsushita, not the property of NaPap. And don't think I'm not suing!
A/N: Well dear readers, I have finally completed the first ever Dark Adaptation lemon! It has taken a lot of time, a lot of long nights… and a lot of cigarettes. (Puffs away on very last fag)
Tsuzuki: (Coughs) I sure hope the emphysema was worth it.
NaPap: (Puffs out a cloud of smoke) We'll let the readers decide that, Sugar Pants.
Tsuzuki: SUGAR-PANTS!??!
Watari: Whoo-hoo! The best chapter is here! Finally! I'm finally going to get to boff Oriya!
Muraki: No one cares.
Watari: I'm gonna boff him good!
Muraki: NO ONE CARES.
Oriya: You're just bitter that we get to have our lemon first. You're especially bitter because it only took me a fortnight to get my Guardian of Death into bed. How long has it taken you again?
Muraki: … (Stands up) I'm going out to drink.
Tsuzuki: Against all common sense… I'm coming with you. God knows it's better than sticking around and enduring over fifty pages of those two shagging each others lights out. (Leaves with Muraki)
Watari: (Huggles Oriya) Never mind them. They're just sooo jealous of our sexiness.
Count: NaPap, I am so proud of you! This is one absolutely gratuatous lemon! (Huggles NaPap) My little protégé is all grown up…
NaPap: Oh and readers, since this is such a positively ginormous chapter, I've had to cut it in three.
Saki: … So it's a threesome update then?
Watari: A threesome…? Who's the third person?
Oriya: … I didn't know that was this kind of fic.
NaPap: It's not, I'm just cutting the fic into three portions for easier reading. Though… a Descendants of Darkness threesome… (Visualizes) … I'm gonna buy me some more cigarettes. (Skips out)
Watari: Let's read along with the reviewers, Ori!
Oriya: Sure thing, Kitten. (Both sit down to read chapter)
Saki and Count: (Also sit down and read)
Oriya: … Go away.
Count: Aww... isn't he the most adorable thing? He's shy! (Cuddles up to Oriya)
Oriya: Please don't read over our shoulders. It feels too much like an invasion of privacy.
Saki: Bit late for that, Senpai. All the fanfiction readers will be looking over your shoulders soon enough.
Watari: Oooh, kind of kinky...
Oriya: Yutaka!
Watari: Sorry!
NaPap: Ahh... here's where I introduce the warning for this chapter! Boy, my favorite time of the day! (Clears throat) Following chapter contains extremely explicit thermonuclear erotic gay lovin'! Why? Because it's my fic and I can so I will. If you don't like, get on outta here and go hide under your blankets and wait for the sun to rise. Everyone who's still with me: Feel free to go on through and I hope you enjoy the ride!
Watari: I know I will!
Oriya: YUTAKA! EXTREME DIGNITY BREAKDOWN HERE!
Watari: Terribly sorry, old chomp.
Loves Last Surrender
Sometimes the snow comes down in june
Sometimes the sun goes round the moon
I see the passion in your eyes
Sometimes it's all a big surprise
Cause there was a time when all I did was wish
You'd tell me this was love
Its not the way I hoped or how I planned
But somehow it's enough
And now we're standing face to face
Isn't this world a crazy place
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last
All of the nights you came to me
When some silly girl had set you free
You wondered how you'd make it through
I wondered what was wrong with you
Cause how could you give your love to someone else
And share your dreams with me
Sometimes the very thing youre looking for
Is the one thing you can't see
And now we're standing face to face
Isn't this world a crazy place
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last
Sometimes the very thing you're looking for
Is the one thing you can't see
Sometimes the snow comes down in june
Sometimes the sun goes round the moon
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last
You went and saved the best for last
-Vanessa Williams "Save the best for last"-
The night had not been easy on me. Several times I had been forced to wake Oriya and have him hold the bucket beneath my mouth so I could evacuate my spoiled stomach. I'd been sick three more times before my body had allowed me to peacefully rest. It hadn't been an easy night on Oriya either and I felt so guilty for the trouble I had caused him but I knew that I would have had an even tougher time of things had he not been there. I was grateful beyond words for everything he had done for me.
I woke up the next morning with aches all through my body. Throwing up the previous night had successfully flushed the Angels Blood from my system and the residual wounds I'd received from my scuffle in the alleyway had already healed. I felt stiff and sore, as though I'd fallen asleep in a bed of rocks and some of the swelling still remained around my right eye, from where my now healed nose had been broken. I wagered that the mark would fade in less than an hour. Until then, I would just have to be extra careful with how I treated my face.
I rolled over, wincing from my muscles aching protests and reached my arm out, groping for Oriya's comforting body. Such was my bleary state of mind right then, that I'm sure it would have come to no surprise to him, should I have allowed myself to become just the teensiest bit frisky in my attentions. Fortunately for Oriya's sake, he proved absent on that occasion and after a brief review of the time (7:40) I concluded that my chivalrous host was out tending to his morning ablutions. That meant a warm up (5:30 am) then a 6 km run (taking leave of Kokakuro at 5:45 on the dot and then returning at 6:30. Quite an achievement with his back, knee and hip aggravations) then spending a few hours practicing the varying martial arts styles he had learnt and perfected throughout the years. Mrs. Koneko had given me a brief overview when she had caught me observing/perving on Oriya one morning. First, he moved through the kata of Iaido, of which there were four sections total. The first section was the draw and cut: Nukitsuke. Oriya would practice this technique on falling leaves and cherry blossoms, though I'm sure they had done nothing to deserve such treatment. He would stand perfectly still and shut his eyes. Then, somehow he would sense the falling of the unsuspecting foliage and draw the sword out and horizontal, slicing the leaf or blossom directly in half. Following that was the… Kirioroshi. This was the main employ of the technique and from what I could recall was a two-handed cut down. Then the Chiburi or blood shake off. (Hisoka could really benefit from such a technique) and finally Noto, where the sword was re-sheathed. Following the completion of Iaido, he progressed through the stages of Aikido, Mauy-Tai, the Ninjitsu, Kendo, Kyuudo, Suvate, Jujitsu, Tai Kwan Do, Eagle Claw and that which Oriya trained most passionately; Ken-Jutsu. I wasn't sure how he had been able to master so many varying martial arts styles, especially at his young age but I had seen him train and knew by impression that he was an exquisite natural in any form of body combat. It was deeply admiral but not enviable. I could only imagine the degree of dedication it would take to maintain both his skill and his body.
I wished that body was still in bed with me. Perhaps as a direct result of what happened to me the night before, I was feeling just a little bit horny. Strange though that may sound, I can rationalize my feelings in saying that a part of me felt insipidly dirty for what I had been subjected to by the hands of those men. Alternatively, I longed to engage with Oriya physically, as though the act would subsequently cleanse my emotions and memories. It was a drowsy, lethargic sort of arousal. If Oriya had been in that bed, I could have very easily just slung my legs on either side his waist and dropped myself onto his morning erection. I ached for that intimacy, for the connection between us. I wanted to reaffirm my self-dignity; to know that I was worth this divine mans' attentions. At the very least, it would allow me to rest comfortably in the knowledge that I was better than what those awful men had made me out to be.
After grasping about the bedsheets for a suitable period of time, I came to the disappointing, abject conclusion that my hormones were not going to be permitted an outlet. At least, not immediately. Oriya had escaped my clutches. Oh damn. He would pay dearly for this…
I rolled back towards my assigned half of the bed, moving my body with a certain tenderness so as not to aggravate any of my wounds that might have been in the process of closing over. My healing ability wasn't as advanced as Tsuzuki's and as such I was required to preserve an even greater degree of care whilst moving about. Despite Oriya having washed me the night before, I still felt awful and gritty, like I'd gone to the beach and then come home to bed without taking a shower first. My mouth was gummy, my teeth coated in thin layer of gunk from having thrown up so much during the night. I reached up and felt my hair, almost regretting it the moment I did. Naturally Oriya hadn't bothered to employ the use of any one of my hair care products (That was the last thing on both our minds) and without the detangling lotion in particular, my blond mane now floofed about my head like a magnificent frizzy halo. Wiry strands stuck out from the tight braid and it was twisted into a mat of steelo upon the crown, where I had been twisting about on the pillows, sleeping my troubled sleep. I did the hand to nose breath test and almost fainted at the foul scent that wafted back at me. My legs were curled up tightly beneath the sheets and I ran my hand up one of them, sighing deeply at the spiky barbs that met my palm. I was a real mess. A real mess. Now I was glad that Oriya had gone about his morning routine as usual, because the last thing I wanted was for him to see me in such a state. No doubt he'd already gotten a good eyeful this morning, (not to mention I probably looked about ten times more lovely the night before) though I hoped it had been too dark for him to have a detailed gander. I had to rectify this.
I had to get hot. Fast.
I climbed out of bed, moving gingerly as though my feet were made of hallow porcelain. My body was flushed and I felt as though my skin was trembling. I'd had pneumonia as a kid and the recovery period following my return to health was very similar to what my body suffered post beating. I vaguely recalled that Oriya had set my glasses down in the bathroom and I navigated my shaky way back into the en suite, plucking them off of the sink area and sliding them along the bridge of my nose. Right. Eyesight corrected. Now the dangerous trek back to Base!
It took a minute to coordinate myself properly but I was finally able to hurl my dazed ass out into the hallway and make my disoriented way towards my assigned room, hoping I could lock myself down just long enough to get my head together. And spruce my hair up, of course.
I'd barely made it three steps in what turned out to be the wrong direction, when my cover was blown by Miyamoto emerging from one of the rooms down the hall, a casual kimono of red and white sanctioned tightly about her thin, waify figure. I ground to a halt, realizing all too late that I should have gone into Ghost Form if I'd hoped to avoid running into anyone. It was pointless to slip into the Second Layer of reality now she had caught sight of me. She called out a greeting and just as I was nearing my finger to my lips in a delayed effort to shush her, Oriya appeared from the stairwell behind her and charged towards me. I'm not sure if his arrival coinciding with my awakening was a miraculous coincidence, or whether he had somehow sensed that I was up but I could tell from his current attire that he had just removed himself from training. He was wearing a faded pair of gray tracksuit pants, obviously his choice of clothing for his early morning run. He was currently bare foot. He had no top on. His upper body was shiny with sweat, his hair knotted into a messy bun on the back of his head. The strands that had fallen free during his exercise were stuck to the damp flesh of his back. The defined curves of his abdomen looked hard and greased and I found my formally sanctioned hormones rushing back to dominate my senses. Visions of Oriya and I writhing together naked on a bed of Sakura were suddenly dancing in my head. I was rooted in place by my zeal of lustful infatuation. I even forgot for a moment how I myself appeared, right there at that moment.
But Oriya was having none of this. Purposefully evading my appreciative bedroom eyes, he grabbed me by the upper arm and bustled me back past Miyamoto's slightly nonplussed expression, pulling us down the stairs into the reception area. I didn't want to have this conversation, especially not in front of Mrs. Koneko, who I had only just noticed, was sweeping the floor leading to the entrance hall. Her steel gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun, professional even at this time of the morning. She only glanced up once during the course of Oriya's sermon and I was grateful that she at least pretended not to hear any of what he leveled at me. It was an impressive tirade. Oriya reamed me up one side and down the other.
And not in that fun spanky way.
He went on and on for a bit about things I already knew and I felt the slightest bit bullied by the way he had me bottled up against the wall, his impressive frame towering over me, almost blocking out the light streaming in from the entrance windows. He didn't hit me again, which I was initially grateful for but I was soon drawn to the conclusion that a physical reaction would have been preferable. He yelled at me about acting responsibly, about taking things into consideration, thinking ahead, using my loaf, etc, etc. I could feel my cheerful façade already beginning to crumble and it wasn't even eight o'clock!
"And if you think there's anything that requires your attentions outside of Kokakuro at such an hour again, you come to me, do you understand? The Gushoshin told me you have weak combatative powers, so think about that a bit before you go rushing off trying to play hero!" I don't think he realized that he was repeating himself; he was so caught up in his emotions. I'm no empath but when I finally forced myself to meet his eyes, I could see a very strong sensation broiling within, leaking out to gradually encompass the majority of his face. I realized almost instantaneously that just like the night before, Oriya was expressing his concern in an overtly irate manner. He'd had a nasty scare and apparently that trauma had yet to wear off.
"Didn't you tell me all this last night?" I asked and I don't think Oriya appreciated my cheek. He shook his finger in my face, hair lashing about his shoulders. I berated myself for even finding something entirely sensual in his anger.
"Yes I did but I wasn't sure you would remember it." So apparently, it bore repeating. And repeating. And repeating again. He was not about to let up on this. It seemed to be a particularly sore point with him that I had not requested his help in the first place.
To be honest, I don't know why I hadn't asked Oriya to come with me. Originally, I had thought it was because I hadn't wanted to disturb him but now I understood that this had only been an excuse.
Deep in my heart, I knew that I had drawn a line between Oriya and the case. I wanted to keep these two aspects as separated as I realistically could. Otherwise the guilt would be enough to effectively finish me.
Oriya's cheeks were rosy from yelling and his hair was mussed at the front from the errant dictations of his head. He brought his hand against the wall beside my neck, leaning his face down close to mine so that I could no longer evade his line of sight.
"And don't, don't you ever flout my authority whilst you are within this okiya, do you understand me? I'm trying to take care of both you and my girls and you are not making it easy!"
"I know, I know! Sorry!" I clenched my pajama sleeve between my fingers and dabbed gingerly at the corners of my eyes. They were starting to well but I kept them wide, trying my darndest not to cry again. I had to be strong from now on. I was a man, for the love of God. I couldn't drop my bundle every time Oriya got mad at me, which I could only ascertain from what I had seen of his personality so far, may have been a fairly regular occurrence. "Are ya… ya gonna contact the Summons Section?"
It was in his rights, of course. I was contracted to Oriya for the due service of time that it took to solve the case but if the client reported dissatisfaction with the guardian to which they had been assigned, the Summons Section had a responsibility to have that agent removed from the case and replaced by a suitable representative, ASAP. I'm sure that Oriya had a copy of the contract in his possession and was no doubt aware that having me shipped out of here was in his immediate list of options.
"Am I gonna- What ya think I'm gonna-tell on you?!" He sounded angrier, if that was even possible. He grabbed me by both shoulders and made a woman of me, tugging me right up against him and staring me directly in the eyes. "What you did last night was so thoughtless and insensitive. I've barely buried my girls and you decide to take yourself out and put yourself in almost the exact same position they were in. Did you even stop to think about how your actions were going to affect me?"
"Affect you?" I asked softly. I couldn't concentrate properly, not when he was so close to me and so beautiful in his despair. "I know you had to go out of you way but-"
"But? Don't you get it, you dumb blond?! I was scared for you! I don't want to lose you!"
I think we were both equally startled by his candor and we stood there for a moment, staring at each other with bulging eyes and awning mouths. I felt acutely self-conscious of how I looked, more so then I had before. And the drops of sweat on Oriya's chest shone more brightly, leaving gleaming trails as they rolled down the tanned flesh of his chest. I followed one beads progress as it made its languid advancement between his pectorals, through the ridges of his six-pack and sliding almost teasingly into the visible line of his loin. My breath hitched in my throat and my penis grew hard between my legs. My hormones were already in a delicate compromise and Oriya's remarkable physique was certainly not helping matters.
I'm not sure who made the first move. All I knew was that one second we were standing there, staring at one another in thinly veiled longing and the next we were wrapped around each other like clothes in a tumble dryer, his mouth delving against mine with such vigor and masculine experience it made me glad to swing both ways. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me up on the tips of my toes, bringing us together at an accelerated rate of intimacy. I forced my hands into the band that held his hair loosely in place and tugged it free, allowing the long, soft tresses to slide down his back like a waterfall that had been plugged for too long. The muscles of his back were so broad and developed that I couldn't resist the urge to dig my nails into them. Oriya groaned softly and this act seemed to draw him rapidly back to reality. This wasn't supposed to be about immediate physical gratification, he seemed to be reminding himself. This was about crediting one another with the factual sincerity of our feelings. I on the other hand was so drenched in my want of him that I couldn't even think straight.
He broke the kiss and lowered me just so that my heels could make contact with the floor again. He leant down so that our faces could be level to one another and cupped my cheeks with both deeply calloused hands.
"We've been through enough. Both of us." His eyes were closed, so I duplicated the dramatic effect by lowering my lids into place and allowing darkness to supplement visual intimacy. "Seeing you that way last night… it was just like… how Seki looked when I found her."
Darkness shattered as my eyes fluttered open. Oriya must have registered the sensation because his deep brown orbs met mine the minute my lashes had parted. There was pain there and it was profound and evident.
"I know that there is something between the two of you. But you won't say what the Hell it is and you won't tell me, the real reason why you came to Kokakuro." He rubbed his thumb across my cheek and I flinched slightly as he depressed the still healing bruise. I could cope with that small tenor of pain; I desired the intimacy of the act more than I feared the sting. "And… you don't have to. Whatever that connection is, it's not my damn business unless you say it is. You just do your job." He pecked the corner of my lips and I was touched. I could feel my heart threatening to overthrow the boundaries of my chest and come trouncing out into open air. Oriya brought his hand forward to hesitantly touch the side of my neck and such was my adoration of him, that I allowed this usually forbidden contact. "And don't you worry," His voice lowered to a mere hush, as though he were sharing something confidential. "He will receive what is deserved of him."
'He will receive what is deserved of him?' I was stumped for a moment and then it hit me with shocking comprehension. I could practically feel my face go anemic as all the blood catapulted southward and from the feelings of things, took up house in the valley of my guts.
"Oriya… what exactly did I say to you last night?" My recollection of the previous eve was foggy to say the least and I knew that I was no exception to that rule, which rendered most drunken/drugged individuals a little too honest for self esteems sake.
The look on Oriya's face was proof enough that I had dropped one hell of a corker the night before. Granted I hadn't been completely honest, otherwise he would have known about Seki. But my god, to think that he now knew my most shameful family secret! We don't talk about those sorts of things! I may exist here and now in the 21st century but I was still technically a child of the fifties/sixties and my mindset was still (in some particular matters) firmly entrenched in that generation. Not to mention I was from the Kansai region and we were a people known to be a little less tolerant of self-pity and more prone to keeping a families affairs, within the family proper. If something bad happened to someone in the immediate family, you didn't speak about it to others, you took care of it and got on with things. This was particularly true in Osaka, where strength of character and spirit were especially prioritized and you'd have best done a damn good job of upholding your families' reputation by crikey! This makes us sound crueler than we truly were but that was certainly not the case. We prided ourselves in being strong and resilient yes but we were also a warm and devoted people. Not just our family but also most of those that we had been acquainted with. (Excluding him of course but then again, that is only natural). We had a voracious sense of humor and a grandly optimistic point of view. You might think that it was a little tough, that Reiku and I were expected to just get on with it and not make a big deal of what happened but that was just our ways back then. I indulged myself in feeling victimized for years and years before I eventually grew bored with it. What happened was sad yes and I was going to go with it for the rest of my life and subsequently into my death. But it was such a small portion of my life… It happened. It sucked. But dammit, I wanted to live and I wanted to laugh and I wanted to smile. I wasn't about to let that guy take any of that away from me.
And so I went with it. It was there, a part of me. But it was a small part and it was shoved into a far corner and it was dusty and hardly ever reviewed. That man had terrorized me, sodomized me when I had been too young to even understand what was happening and had stolen my innocence that I should have been allowed to offer to whomever I chose to be worthy of it. But he couldn't take my smile. Or my laughter.
Or my life.
I conveyed this to Oriya with fewer words but he got my meaning all the same. I was deeply embarrassed that I had confessed myself to him and in such an emotional fashion. I had made myself out to be a victim, more than I had ever actually viewed myself to be.
I never allowed myself to be a victim. I lived a life of weakness for far too long. But I was strong now. My god, I was strong. Strong enough to feel no shame in admitting it either. I had done things with a level of composure that no one should have ever expected from a man in my position.
"Oriya… I'm sorry if I upset you with my rambling but… believe me," I met his eyes at last and felt my smile lash into place. It always happened when I was nervous or upset. Smiling was my shield. My defense against baring the brunt of people's reactions to the true emotion I was feeling beneath my carefully constructed façade. "I've gotten on with my life. I haven't let that man dominate it with that one cruel thing he did. It happened, yeah. But I got on with it."
He didn't say anything and I couldn't judge his expression, it was as thoughtfully constructed as my own. But he kissed me and instead of being a disabling passion, the act was soft. It was gentle. It was lovely.
I should have been ashamed of myself. A woman should have been where I was standing, experiencing this compassion. Someone that Oriya could really benefit from. I mean, there wasn't a great deal I could offer… Well, aside from the obvious immediate physical gratification, of course.
"About… last night," I began, once our lips had separated. "I didn't say… anything else I shouldn't have said… did I?"
A slow smile coursed its' languid way up Oriya's mouth. "Oh no."
I didn't fancy the dodgy way he had chosen to phrase this but I didn't bother to try again because from Oriya's reaction, I wagered that I'd undoubtedly confessed my undying love for him, or some such nonsense. Which wasn't too far off the mark, apparently. My feelings for him were exceptionally strong and growing it seemed with each passing second. That sounds like a cliché, even to my ears but I'm just trying to explain it as best I can. This was how it felt to me. How it still feels for me, even now.
Oriya was still smiling as he wrapped his arms about my waist and slid me in close. His nose touched against mine as he spoke.
"It's nothing to worry about." He kissed me again and I wanted it to last forever. "Listen, I'm cutting some of my training today so why don't you come and join me for breakfast? Before the girls get up. I can send a tray up to the Gushoushin. That way, it'll be just you and me."
"And 003 makes three." I commented, pointing over his shoulder to see the small ball of feathery fluff otherwise known as my pet come zooming in as though he'd been shot from a canon. I shook my finger at his slightly befuddled expression as he winged his way over to perch on Oriya's broad shoulder.
003: Slippery… hard to get a grip…
"And just where have you been all night, young man?" I asked, faux sternly as the little owl starting sliding down Oriya's shoulder, having no dry patch to rest his weight upon. "I'm starting to feel I've been too loose with the leash! I was expecting you to be back hours ago!"
003: Don't be mad… I was visiting this canary that lives a few houses down from here… pretty yellow feathers. We preened each other all night…
"Gawd, I don't need to hear that!" I snapped, bringing my hands down over my ears in order to block out my pets gutter talk.
"Ouch, hey now. Mind the claws, little buddy." 003 was apparently digging his talons into the flesh of Oriya's shoulder just a little too tightly. To compensate for the sliding effect, the owl grabbed a hold of a long strand of the samurai's hair and held on for grim life. "Well then, I'll go see to things in the kitchen. Came by the sitting area when you're ready to eat."
"I'll be there soon as I can," I promised, leaning up to give Oriya a light kiss on the cheek, 003 using Oriya's hair to swing himself, Tarzan-like, onto my shoulder once I was close enough. Oriya smiled and gripped my cheeks between his fingers in that manner reminiscent of a doting Grandmother all up in arms about examining your 'liddle puddin''.
"Right. And you might wanna shave that stubble off while you're at it." He gave me a sly wink before turning and strutting off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving me to run mortified fingers across the grizzly blond 5 o'clock shadow that had somehow dictated authority of my face during the night.
Thoroughly disgusted with my appearance I stormed back to the bedroom, uttered a curt 'Good morning' to Gushoushin and got straight into my own morning ablutions. First, I needed to pee. Pretty badly, in fact and I took a sample of my urine so I could test it later to determine what I had been drugged with the previous night. It was amazing that some of the liquid had actually made it to my bladder. I put the bottle away and then set to undressing so that I could take a shower. I was technically clean but I felt as though I had doused myself in honey and then rolled about in grit and the warm water gradually brought me back to my senses. I brushed my teeth, unable to believe that Oriya could kiss me with my tremendously bad morning breath. He must have really been smitten because that sort of thing was just above and beyond the call of chivalry. I didn't usually floss but this morning I forced myself to do it, hating that claggy feeling sliding about my mouth. I fished out a brand new spanking razor and got to work on my legs, skimming the blade up over the paling skin until every last one of those nasty spikies were gone. Then I did my face, angling the razor carefully so as to avoid aggravating the still healing bruise. I didn't wash my hair, tempted though I was to start from scratch. It just would have taken more time to get it done up just the way I liked it and I certainly wasn't going to waste a second more than was absolutely necessary. I had my hair bundled up beneath a shower cap, manly as it was to employ such an accessory.
Once I had done my legs and face, I moved onto my armpits, congratulating myself on having thought of this at the last minute. It took a while but at long last I felt squeaky clean and more in touch with what was going on around me. I climbed out of the shower and pulled off the plastic cap, giving myself a hasty rub down before wrapping the towel about my waist and bouncing over to the vanity mirror.
I already looked better and there was slightly more color in my cheeks, not on account of the bruising which finally seemed set to just give up and die. I unearthed my treasured tweezers and set to work straightening out my eyebrows. They had grown a little unruly the past week or so and I was ashamed to have been so remiss of them. My mind drifted unaccountably to Tsuzuki and I hoped that he was keeping up his beauty regime without me around to nag him. I usually took it upon myself to shape his eyebrows for him and in return when the ends of my hair started to get raggedy, I would pop on over to his place and Tsuzuki would trim them for me. It was a fair trade and it worked out pretty well for us. Now however, we were forced to perform these odd little jobs on our own. And even though Tsuzuki and I weren't flamboyant queers (that applies to him more so than me because I still find women abjectly fascinating) we did appreciate keeping our appearances neatly refined. That was our quirk to bear, I suppose.
I had a little time and I thought that it wouldn't take me long, so I decided to go full quid with my appearance that day and whipped out the hair straightner. Having it sticking out every which way was really distracting, in more ways than one and I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate when I felt so uncomely. I first sprayed my hair with a heat protection gloss and then set to work, tugging down clumps of my blond hair and straightening it out, piece by piece. My hair was usually wavy and so with the bounce eradicated, it now hung nearly as low as Oriya's. It didn't take as long as I thought it would. There was only a slight kink to my hair and it was already mostly straight, so the process took a mere fifteen minutes, a record for me! I liked the way I looked and I felt rather chuffed as I packed up the straightner, rubbed my body down with butterscotch scented moisturizer, applied some mascara, sprayed myself with deodorant and then gingerly dabbed at the length of my neck and behind my knees with cologne. Right, ready to rock and roll!
Well, after I was dressed of course. Rocking and rolling in the nude could be considered a tad uncomely, even for an old swinger. Thanks Tsuzuki.
What I could remember of Oriya's words from the night before had made me feel a little better about expressing myself physically. Usually I'd prefer to keep my neck and the majority of my body covered, less I inspire the wrong sort of reactions from people. It was the one paranoid factor that I couldn't shake of that event in my childhood. But Oriya's kind assurance had given me some measure of freedom and now I kind of felt that it was okay if I looked sexy.
Good thing too. It was a real scorcher outside.
You know what I mean. The kind of heat that sears sunburn directly onto the back of your neck should you remain in the one spot for over five minutes. The kind of heat that has you dripping sweat and longing for an ice-bath. Beach weather. Bikini weather, if that was your swimsuit preference.
I loved the sun. And it was no wonder Oriya had been shining. I could feel the heat seeping into the house already and it was barely eight o'clock!
I took a brief review of my clothes and finally came across something I must have packed in the event that I might have felt so suicidally inclined to flaunt my skin about. Thank God. It was a pair of faded ripped denim short shorts that I managed to shimmy into with a bit of concentrated effort and a short sleeved black crop top that came down to rest just upon the rise of my ribcage. Bless all those hours of swimming I regularly put in or else I would not have wanted to flaunt my stomach, not even in that weather. My tan was still hanging on by a thread and my long legs looked healthy and strong. My blond hair ran down the line of my spine and spilled over onto my chest. My shorts were tight and looked like one big promise. They rode perhaps just a little higher than my mother would have deemed appropriate for her daughter, let alone her bisexual son. I chose not to wear any of my thongs underneath, for fear it would be visible through the tight fabric of the shorts.
But I felt good. And for once, I felt that I looked good. I was really comfortable and it was great not to have the constriction of fabric about my neck. I couldn't wait to get downstairs and offer Oriya an eyeful.
Perhaps a handful if things went well.
I ran into Ichibana on the way down. He emerged from out of the bedrooms, dressed in what I'm sure was one of Oriya's kimonos. He held a finger over his lips, urging me towards silence as he slid the bedroom door shut behind him and gestured with his head for us to continue walking towards the sitting area.
"I hope you pay Oriya for whichever one of his girls you just shagged," I said, jamming my elbow into the side of the much shorter creature. He merely smirked at my jibe but failed to rebuke with a witty barb of his own, so I knew immediately that something was up. "Okay… what's the problem? Here I am, dressed like a Barbie, taking the piss out of you for sleeping around and you're not even going to remark on it? This is a cold day in Hell."
Ichibana drew his arm up around my shoulders, pulling my head down even against the side of his face. His smile was rapidly deteriorating from his features.
"I've got a lot ta tell ya, mate. A lot. You gonna put me back in yer glasses now, by the by?"
It was fourteen years since I had brought Ichibana under my charge and since then I felt that I had learnt a lot about his character and vice versa. I decided to trust him that morning. So I allowed him to remain outside of my bond, at least until after I had finished breakfast with Oriya. The last thing I needed was Ichibana taking the piss out of what I hoped to make a romantic affair.
The djinni nodded, running a hand back through his mussed hair, since loosed from his customary ponytail.
"Right. Cheers, mate. Ye go have yer OJ and snapper and then come find me and I'll clue ye in. But I gotta catch a bit of shuteye and I'm kind of looking forward to actually sleeping in a bed for once. I mean, the glasses are nice and all, don't get me wrong but… a pillow, now there's artistry in the expression."
I smiled understandingly, pointing down the hall back towards my assigned room.
"You can use my bed. Just get yourself cozy and I'll come fetch you in… how's an hour sound?"
The djinni pressed both hands together, fingers aligned and pointed towards the ceiling. "Like Heaven. There's a lot ta discuss boy and I'll give ya enough of my time ta talk it through wit ya but I pull night shifts now, so I gotta sleep today." He spread his arms wide. "'Ay, I'm pullin' forty winks fer two now."
"Pullin' forty winks for-" My entire body jerked as the revelation snapped through my mind. "Dear God… you're pregnant?"
He smiled, appearing slightly bashful. "Yeah. Number five on the way. Oriya was kind enough to confirm it for me when he poked his head in to check on me and Sonja." The djinni lowered his hand to pet his belly. "That's quite a power that boys got. I can't be more than a month due and he could tell me it was a girl."
"A daughter, huh? Well… congratulations." I know it didn't sound exactly sincere but I was still a little too shocked to force an alternative emotion. "That's… that's great news."
"Honey, I got great news fer you too. Ya got no idea." He seemed so over the moon happy and I was left to wonder why. I suppose any news that could have cheered him up so much was good news but I still felt a little edgy as we parted ways. He seemed happy for me, which was such a rare state of mind for a djinni that it bordered unusual. Whatever it was, it would have to wait until after breakfast. And after I put my little epiphany to the test.
The night before, it finally hit me, the meaning of those words that had been written across Seki's back. The words that had been thrown back in my face in that bizarre realm Tsuzuki and I had been thrown into.
Where would you go?
It finally made sense. The puzzle was beginning to come together. I couldn't wait to see whether I was right or not. If I was right, I would know. It would be terrifying, it would be impossible but I would know.
I would know the face of the one whom was responsible.
I bounced downstairs into the midst of a commotion. A number of the girls were up but none of them seemed particularly interested in eating. Miyamoto, Sonja and Mrs. Koneko were all fluttering out through the front entrance, gibbering amongst themselves. There was an air of friction about and not one of the women appeared happy about whatever had drawn their attentions to the front stoop. Dai came rushing past me and I fell into step behind her, eager to see what all the fuss was about.
"What's going on?" I asked, waving a hand in front of my face in an attempt to ward off the increasing heat. The girls were still donned in one layer sleeping kimonos, their bare legs breezing out through the halves with each step, slippered feet slapping the floor. They seemed well insulated from the heat, even with their hair out and trailing down their backs.
Dai turned her head towards me, her long butterscotch colored hair flying about her features. Her gentle expression threw me for a momentary loop and I felt my face flush slightly. My wife had had hair of the same color and length as Dai's. She'd even worn it in the same style; either loose down her back with a slight wave or twisted up behind her head in a complicated coil. Tamiko hadn't been as beautiful as Dai, though that was to be expected. Dai's career was based at least 50 per cent on her appearance. Tamiko had possessed a softer facial appearance, though her body had been just as lovely.
"Good morning, Mr. Watari. Daunting attire." She gave my bare stomach a little pat with the palm of her hand. I beamed down at her with genuine affection. I knew from speaking with Akemi that Dai had feelings for Oriya and had for some time. I figured that she would be resentful towards me for my developing relationship with the master but so far she had been exceptionally fair in her attitude towards us. "Akemi has just arrived with the children. It is a Saturday, so she is normally not required to be here until the later evening. Something must be the matter."
That was an understatement. When we stepped outside and out into the street, Akemi's car was parked on the corner, her three young children hunkered down in the backseat, their expressions distressed. Akemi was out of the car and standing a few feet from the door, face hidden in Oriya's chest. He had changed out of his training gear, into a decorative three piece kimono sporting a wisteria and cherry plum pattern, with simple blue obi, sanctioned tightly with a gold cord. He had his arms around Akemi and from the way her body was moving, it was easy to see that she was upset.
"Baby, what happened?" He tipped her chin up, bringing her face into the morning light. Even from where I was standing, the great black bruise swelling on her right eye was glaringly visible. "Your danna... Is he bein' ugly to you again?"
Akemi wiped at her eyes, wincing as she hit upon the bruise. She was a real mess. Her short blond hair, usually spiked up stylishly at the back, was a rumpled mess. She had no make up on and her clothing was distinctly understated, compared to how she normally dressed. Her jeans were wide leg and patched by age, her t-shirt simple, black and sporting some obscure English logo that didn't make much sense as far as I could tell. Instead of sensible shoes, she was wearing her house slippers. She had apparently left home in a rush.
I had never seen the little lady in such a state. She was usually the epitome of sophistication and so divinely beautiful, you would have thought her ethereal. Without her make up, kimono and hair spray, she seemed as regular as the girl next door.
"Hisao and I… we had a disagreement." She said, indicating to the bruise on her eye gingerly. This choice of words made her apparent 'disagreement' with the aforementioned Hisao seem lighter than it obviously was. I could see that Oriya was furious. His eyebrows were knitting in and his lips were tucked in upon themselves.
"I'll go see him."
Akemi grabbed his arm above the elbow, squeezing tightly to elicit his full attention. "You will do no such thing, Oriya Mibu! My problems are my business, do you understand? You just stay away from him, you understand?" And little Akemi, slender five foot ten frame to Oriya's substantial six foot four build, shook her finger, acrylic nail and all, in his face. Oriya was thoroughly chastised and took a step back, looking rather set upon. "And I certainly don't wish to hear about that shady pair paying him a visit either!"
"Shady pair?" I asked out loud. I immediately wished I had kept my mouth shut. It didn't seem like a private conversation but then again, a little diplomacy would have gone a long way to making the poor girl feel better.
Akemi looked over at me and didn't seem too surprised, nor offended that I and the other girls had been listening in.
"Oriya's has authority over these persons whom he summons when he has a matter that… requires special attention."
Oriya was waving his hands about and I could swear his narrowed eyes were focused in my direction. "Akemi, dear, we really don't need to spread the word far and wide."
She turned on him again, hands on hips. "All I'm saying is, that I'd better not hear that they've paid Hisao a little 'visit', understand? This is something I must deal with in my own good time. At my age, I certainly cannot afford to lose my danna, so it is necessary that I not put a foot wrong. Is that clear?"
Oriya smiled understandingly and put his arms around her. She embraced back and the harsh anger on her face melted away.
"Of course." He said, rubbing her back in a nurturing way. "You needn't worry about those two. They're out of town at the moment, so there'll be no calling on them anytime soon. But Akemi," He stepped out of her embrace but kept a hold of her shoulders between his hands. "He shouldn't get away with doing this to you. This is the second time now… Privileged client or not, I cannot tolerate any man who would underhand my authority in this manner. If I allow him to pervade the rules I have established, then it is only natural that fellow patrons might feel inclined to exercise such liberties against the other geisha. You are the Onesan of the Kokakuro, Akemi. It is your duty, as my successor, to provide the residing girls with your fine example. You must be responsible in dealing with this act, or they will know no better. "
She nodded, giving his hand a gentle pat. "I understand, Onisan. I explained to him last time that if it were to ever happen again, I would walk out the door and take the children right on with me. The last time it was dismissable. He at least did not strike me vehemenently and the children were not witness to it." She sniffed and brought her finger up beneath her eye, catching a tear early, before it fell and openly exposed her internal distress. "He suspected I'd entertained a liason with a fellow politician and that it was by your dictatorship that I had been led astray. He questioned my loyalty and we argued... he did not tolerate my forthright liberties. ...Beau, I am terrible sorry to imposition you like this but I do require a place to stay for some time, at least until Hisao cools off. Myself and the children. Of course I am willing to cover my expenses, for room and board."
"Now, you know there's no need for that. You were living here long before I was! Kokakuro is as much your home as it is mine. I won't be having you pay me money for rent. You and the kids are welcome to stay, long as you need." He wiped a tear that had escaped from the corner of her eye. "Pay me rent, honestly woman. You'd think I needed the money!"
"You should not show me such kindness. It only weakens my will!" Akemi's deeply accented voice was drenched in underlying tears and she had to take a moment in order to straighten herself up. When she did, she looked Oriya square in the eye and fortified her body, appearing strong and resolute. "Beau, I know that I am asking you a great deal but I was wondering if you would be so awfully kind as to watch over the children for a couple of hours today? I have to take myself on over to my Papa's house in the next town over, pick up some clothes for myself and the children. I left the house in such an awful rush… you understand?"
Oriya nodded, gesturing towards the car for the kids to climb on out. "It's no problem. The kids are always a joy, you know that."
"I can take them on through to the kitchen if you like." I piped up, trying to be helpful. Truth is, I loved kids and I was exceptionally fond of Akemi's little brood. There were three of them; the two girls Kikumi and Yoko were aged seven and eight respectively, whilst the boy, Makoto, held seniority in the group at the plucky age of nine.
I was in love with these kids. And they seemed to love me. They attached themselves to me like monkeys to the last tree in the jungle and squalled my name over and over with zestful enthusiasm.
As I ducked down to give each kid a kiss on the cheek, Oriya smiled at me approvingly and I got the feeling that I'd just been marked up by my display of affection towards the children. Akemi too appeared to be quite chuffed.
"Is that all right with you?" Oriya asked, glancing down at her. Akemi smiled, dabbing her hand towards me congenially.
"Of course, dear. You go on right through there. And children?" They all scampered back over to listen to their mama, heads craned back like anticipatory puppies awaiting a command. "You all behave yourselves for Uncle Oriya's friend, do you hear? Mama will be back tonight at the latest, so don't be making a nuisance of yourself in the meantime."
"We won't, Mama." Kikumi and Yoko chorused, scuffing the toes of their shoes along the hot concrete. Makoto placed his hands on his hips and spaced his feet apart.
"I'll keep an eye on 'em, Mama." He assured, trying to sound too old for any young boy to wish himself to be. "You can trust me!"
Akemi petted his cheek, her eyes shining with genuine affection for her son. "I know I can, baby. Now, you all give your Mama a kiss. I'm going to be missing you on the road." They all scuttled in close to place their lips against their mothers' cheeks and she squeezed them all to her bosom in turn. The parting process seemed sadder than the situation called for and my heart ached in sympathy because I could understand just what Miss Aisubi was going through.
"Take 'em on through and get them something to eat, would you Yutaka?" Oriya continued to smile at me as he helped Akemi climb back to her feet. The kids immediately raced back to my side, staring up at me like ducklings that had just imprinted me as their mother figure. Well, quack. "Just get them to tell Yoshi what they'd like for breakfast. I'll be in, in a moment. I just have to discuss a few things with Akemi."
I flashed them both an assuring wink and then huddled down close to the children, as though we were sharing a conspiracy.
"Betcha can't beat me to the kitchen!" I challenged, looking each one of them square in the eye. Makoto immediately puffed out his chest.
"I can too! I'm one of the fastest runners in my class at school!"
"Yeah! I can run pretty fast too!" Yoko chimed in, squeezing her little fists tightly in order to demonstrate her enthusiasm. I climbed back to my feet and turned to face the kitchen, grinning over my shoulder at them.
"Well then… you'd just better go and prove it then!"
I took off running (well, a slow jog really) but making a dramatic job of it, so that the children felt that they had won a true victory. Not that I needed to take it easy on them, mind. Those kids were fast and energetic, I probably couldn't have kept up anyway.
We made out way into the kitchen and surprised Yoshi, who doted on the kids almost as badly as I did. They put in their orders for breakfast (some having to be changed on account of the original choices being positively ridiculous, Chargrilled hippapotamus on a stick dipped in sticky sweet and sour sauce for example.) and then we seated ourselves down in the group dining area to wait for the food to cook. The kids didn't talk about whatever had happened between their Mom and her danna Hisao but chatted at length about school and their friends and their achievements to date. It didn't take long before Yoko and Kikumi grew bored with that and wanted to play with my hair. Makoto was heavily involved in telling me of the swimming competition coming up (and how he was going to win that too) but he stopped to watch the girls braid portions of my hair for a while.
"Mr. Watari… you look kinda like that girl from that foreign car movie." He concluded after we had sat for some time. I grinned, watching as he twirled his finger about in the air, trying to come up with the name. "Em… Ah! Daisy Duke! That's who you look like today! Why are you dressed like that, anyhow? Don't girls normally dress that way?"
I shrugged, not quite sure how to best phrase this. I still thought the boy was a little young to be wised up to the sexual orientation scheme (and even if he was old enough, it wasn't my place to fill him in) so explaining to him that I was a predominately queer bisexual and I was entirely inclined to wear whatever feminine attire I wanted, just wasn't in the cards.
"Well it… it's awful hot today." I finally said, with a silly grin. And apparently needn't have concerned myself with this show of decency on the kids behalf because it seemed that Akemi had already given them the low down. Kikumi proved this by leaning around from the back of my head, where she was annihilating all my hard straightening work by winding portions of my hair into braids.
"Mama said you're Oriya's 'special' friend. That means you're going out with him, right?"
I blanched, shocked at how much kids these days knew. Back in the good old days, I didn't know I could shag a man until I was at least… well, I knew about it when I was a child yes but that's only because I was forced into doing it. I sort of expected that other kids didn't have a clue in hell!
Yoko shook her head, seeing my expression of shock. "Naw, it's okay! We know about that sort of thing. We may be kids, but we're not dumb you know?" She said diplomatically. "Mama's just glad that Oriya's found someone nice. His last girlfriend was a bit of a…"
"Cow." Makoto established, less diplomatically. He reached out and dragged my glasses off of my face, trying them on and then blinking at me owlishly through the lenses. "She wasn't nice to us at all. Uncle Oriya said she used to get jealous of him spending time with anyone other than her."
"You're a lot nicer than she was." Yoko said, nodding as though she had just resolved some internal conundrum. She combed through my hair with her fingers. "And you're sort of like a girl, so it's really fine that you're dating Uncle Oriya!"
"Well, that's good to hear." I said, biting back a smile as I took my glasses back off of Makoto. "I was hoping I would get your blessing."
"Is he good back to you?" Yoko asked, releasing her hold on my hair and then sitting down in front of me, legs crossed like an attentive student. "Does he do nice things for you?"
"He's very nice to me." I established, wondering just what constituted a 'nice thing'. We weren't exactly 'boyfriends' and we hadn't even gone on a single date. The preponderance of our romance was based in the spare time between my work on the case.
This wasn't good enough to Yoko and she looked frustrated. "That's not what I meant! Hasn't he bought you something yet? He has all that money! He should be your danna he's so rich!"
"Yeah! He better do something to make you stick around, 'cause we like you." Makoto said, nodding his head up and down in an exaggerated fashion. Apparently their liking me was all that mattered. Never mind should Oriya lose interest.
"I look forward to running that by him." I said, already imagining the look on Oriya's face when I told him to be my danna and start forking up for me, whilst I strutted about all day in an authentic kimono and drank gallons of sake. Priceless. "Say, maybe you kids can help me out with something too?"
They all leaned towards me, physically expressing that they were eager to assist me in any way possible.
"I'd like to know more about your Uncle Oriya and since you mentioned doing something nice, I don't suppose any of you know when his birthday is, do you?"
The kids exchanged doubtful looks; apparently trying to decide whether or not I could be entrusted with this intimate knowledge of Oriya. There was a little team huddle and Makoto was eventually elected spokesperson of the group.
"His birthday is July the 7th. It's always pretty hot around his birthday."
I noted this down internally,. "We're just coming out of June now... So I've got a little bit of time to think about what I'm going to be getting him."
"He likes the theatre." Makoto suggested helpfully. "Get him a ticket to one of those ultra boring Noh shows he's always nicking off to.
"He'll be thirty-three this year." Yoko contributed, wrinkling her nose a little. "That's like… a hundred."
I blinked at her incredulously, trying not to take any personal offense at her words. Kids thought that anyone over the age of twenty-five was a dinosaur. See? I could take these things in my stride, unlike some certain people who freak out when anyone suggests that they're two minutes to retirement.
"He's most certainly not a hundred." I established defensively, giving the cheeky little girl a poke in the stomach. "Your Mom is older than he is, you know?"
Yoko giggled, ducking away from my finger and hiding behind Kikumi. "Yeah and she's old too! She's super old!"
Makoto nodded sagely. "Everyone knows that when you get to thirty everything starts to get droopy!"
"Is that so?" Oriya stepped out from the kitchen, crossing his arms and smiling down at the children who squealed with fear at being caught out. "Well I'd best keep up with my exercises then, hadn't I?" He strolled over to join us, flashing a toothy smile as he drew his arms around Makoto's middle and hefted him up over his shoulder. The boy laughed and thrashed his legs, trying to squirm free as Oriya pretended to bench press him. "Yutaka? We have these squirts until one o'clock. Have they all spoken to Yoshi?"
I nodded cheerfully, watching Oriya set the kids to rights, lathering them with equal attention before settling uncomfortably down at the head of the table, crossing his legs so that Yoko could perch in his lap. Kikumi crawled back round to fuss with my hair again and Makoto took one side of table to himself. There was a silence and Oriya seemed quite content with the five of us just sitting there, listening to the noises of morning and simply enjoying the company of each other. But the kids soon grew bored by it as kids normally do.
"Uncle Oriya… aren't you gonna tell Mr. Watari how pretty he looks today?" Kikumi demanded, shaking one of the braids in my hair at him. Oriya looked sideways at me and I shrugged sort of helplessly in return.
"Yeah!" Yoto interjected, craning her head back so she could stare up into Oriya's face. He had to press his chin down towards his chest in order to make eye contact with her. "Mr. Watari is your special friend and he says you haven't even bought him anything nice yet! Even though you got all that money and your his danna!"
"His not my danna." I interjected, whipping my arms about frantically in Oriya's direction. "You're not my danna."
"Oh does he?" Oriya said thoughtfully, ignoring my remarks as he jostled Yoto around on his lap. "Well, I shall certainly have to do something about that then, shan't I?" He petted the little girl on the head and then smiled over at me sweetly. "Yutaka, you look very pretty today. Could I surprise you with a gift, since I have all that useless money cluttering up my bank account?"
"Uh, that's really not necessary." I said, waving my hands about and feeling my face flush hot. Kids could be so blunt! "You don't have to get me anything."
"Yes he does!" Yoko insisted, nodding her head vigorously. "You're special to him, so he should get you something nice!"
"Well, I haven't got him anything either…" I offered weakly, glancing at Oriya apologetically. He seemed to be taking this wayward offensive in good humor but I was worried that I was coming off as ungrateful.
"Nah, nah, nah! That's okay though!" Makoto joined the attack front, waving his hand at me dismissively. "You're the girly one and the girly one doesn't have to go buying things!"
"Makoto, don't refer to Mr. Watari that way. It isn't nice." Oriya gently scolded. The little boy clapped a hand over his mouth, shocked by his apparent slip and shrank down into himself, looking quite chastised. Kikumi took up the slack.
"Mr. Watari! Tell Uncle Oriya what you'd like! Then he'll get it for you!"
"Ooh! Ooh! Like flowers!" Yoko sighed, clapping her small, delicate hands together. "Flowers are so romantic!"
"What's your favorite flower, Yutaka?" Oriya joined in. He rather seemed to be enjoying this. I was still verging on mortified.
"Eh… sunflowers but I don't really have any use for flowers!"
Yoko looked annoyed. "Well, just tell him something he can get you!" She insisted impatiently. "Something you would like!"
Oh, there were a great many things I would have liked Oriya to give me but none that I felt comfortable discussing in front of the children. I sighed deeply and looked helplessly into Oriya's eyes, silently pleading assistance of some kind. He smiled sweetly at me and bobbed his head in a deep bow. I suppose this was his way of giving me permission.
"Well…" I said, musing on this. "I do like Italian food a lot… I would like it a lot if Oriya took me out to somewhere where we could eat it together."
"Like on a date? Just the two of you?" Kikumi inquired romantically. I nodded, setting my cheek down against the curl of my fist and staring into Oriya's face with fondness.
"Yeah. Just the two of us."
Oriya smiled back and lowered his head to conceal his shyness, biting his lower lip tenderly before bringing his eyes back up into their normal alignment. "Well, there you go. There's a number of fine Italian bistro's in Kyoto. I shall choose a suitable venue and make a reservation for tonight, once Akemi's gotten back and taken these brats off of my hands." He blew a raspberry into Yoko's ear, causing her to squeal and giggle happily. I did the same. (Except without the squeal. Or the raspberry, naturally). Just think! My first real date with Oriya! A date that would involve dressing up and actually leaving Kokakuro and being in public together! I was all a flutter and could barely muster up an accompanying 'thankyou' to express my gratitude. These kids may have been frank, but they were doing a load for my love-life!
Breakfast shortly followed and for a little over a half hour we ate and we talked, thankfully moving on from the 'Oriya-doesn't-pamper-Watari-enough' topic and discussing nice normal things. The girls made their tepid way in and out, taking a moment to eat with us, dote on the children and then head on out to their daily lessons, playing the shamisen, dancing, pouring sake, whatever it was these 'somewhat-geisha's' got up to in their spare time. When the kids' stomachs were full, they wanted to explore the yard a little and then the girls remembered their favorite show was on, so Oriya set them up in one of the two rooms that actually had a television. Since Kokakuro was either the first or second oldest shop in Kyoto, there wasn't a great deal of modernization within its' walls. Nothing much had changed since the time of its original conception, apart from the installation of electricity and indoor plumbing, of course. Oriya, the old fashioned fogey that he was, didn't much go in for television and modern culture anway. There were only one or two shows that he deigned to watch and even then, it was not on a dedicated basis. One other room had a gaming console set up and Makoto contented himself with that. I gathered such devices were in place for the entertainment of the children and even the girls, moreso then for the convenience of the master.
With the kids occupied, I thought now was as good a time as any to put my theory to the test. Oriya however, had other ideas.
We were standing in the entrance hall, having just left Makoto to his own devices in one of the many spare rooms, when I found myself swept to the side and held securely in place by the arms as Oriya looked me slowly up and down. I smiled softly and pulled myself free just long enough to turn on the spot, affording him a complete view of my ensemble. Oriya was wetting his lips as I completed my rotation.
"Do that again." He commanded, making a familiar twirling motion in midair. I raised a brow as I repeated my revolution, stifling a throaty gasp as I felt Oriya's long hand slide up the right leg of my shorts. They were so tight all he could do was move his fingers about and he clenched the curve of muscle before withdrawing his hand and using it to spin me into his waiting arms. His eyes were bright and hot and I took that to be quite the compliment.
"You look… mouthwatering." He said, his voice hoarse. My bottom lip quivered as his strong hands made circles in my lower back and suctioned my groin in tightly against his own. "The kids will be busy for a while… let's go upstairs and get into bed."
A shiver ran through my body as his hands gripped my backside and his mouth met mind with such passion I thought he was trying to suck my tongue down his throat. I tried to stay detached from the sensation but wasn't entirely successful in my attempt. It was difficult to remain impassive to the attentions of a man as beautiful as Oriya. But I made a concerted effort not to grin like an idiot and keep my mind on the job.
"Oriya, I need you to unlock the doors." I said, closing my eyes as he brought his arms around my middle and ducked his head in order to kiss my cheeks. My words immediately killed his affectionate mood. His eyes were sad when they met mine, his lips slicking free from the side of my face. I was relieved. I was disappointed.
"That reminds me… last night when you were talking to that Tsuzuki fellow…" He stepped back, arms crossing over his broad chest. "Has something happened that I should know about?"
I assumed a similar pose whilst I ran through the uncertain specifics of the previous nights activities, omitting nothing but the more extensive details of my conversations with Tsuzuki. Oriya listened without saying anything and when I finished talking, he remained in his silence for a long time thereafter. He thought on my words, on the details and expressed not the hint of emotion. I watched him carefully, wondering what was going through his head. Oriya was a man of absolute necessities. He never spoke a word unless it was important and I knew that I had given him a lot of information to process and just like me, he was still trying to sort through it.
"So, we're to assume that this Mitkiel guy is the culprit?"
"Uh-uh babes. That ain't the case at all."
Ichibana had decided to join us at last. I looked up the stairwell as he descended to the ground floor, Gushoushin floating down behind him and 003 perched on one shoulder. Ichibana was dressed in a casual (casual at least for him) pair of tight black pants, boots and off the shoulder tee. His wavy shoulder length plum colored hair was left out for a change and swished about his neck with the hastened movements of his body. I nodded in his direction as he made his way over to us.
"That's what I think." I agreed, patting the djinni on the back as he slung his arm around my waist and cupped my butt unnecessarily. "Everything that Tsuzuki and I went through last night seemed entirely orchestrated to point the blame towards the demon Mitkiel. But then I got to thinking, why on earth would a demon make his involvement so obvious? Demons aren't like that. By nature. They prefer to conduct their business in as covert a manner as possible and even the proudest demons will try to hide their name for as long as possible. They certainly never offer it and this Mitkiel seemed all too eager to offer up his non de plume on a platter."
"If say, a Guardian of Death," Gushoushin contributed, gesturing towards me with an open hand. " –learns a demons name, they can come at the demon from a position of power. Knowing the title of a demon, devil or djinni gives the opponent of said creature a keen advantage."
"Exactly. So a demon won't ever say their name! Not unless they know for certain that their opponent is already aware of their identity and Mitkiel could not have known that for sure." I stroked my chin with my finger, forcing my mind back over the nights' events. "What I think we're looking at here is a force that is attempting to discredit the true Mitkiel. For whatever reason."
Oriya gestured towards me urgently. "You mean, like an act of betrayal? Or treason?"
"Depending on whether the guilty party was previously associated with the true Mitkiel then yes, that's definitely a possibility."
"But what does this have to do with the murders here?" He asked, appearing to be exceptionally confused by what it was we were discussing. I wasn't sure how to answer this either.
"I don't have all the pieces of the puzzle yet, Oriya." I stepped out of Ichibana's hold and pressed my hands against the brunette's chest, looking directly into his eyes. "But I think I have a good idea about what is going on here. The poem scrawled upon that wall before the Room of Corollary… the more I think about it… the more I think I can make the connection."
"Well for Gods sake man, tell me already." Oriya clenched my upper arms between his hands, urging me to share my revelations. I thought back with all the strength of my memory, trying to recall the words to be best of my ability.
"The poem addressed me personally and then there were the words… the same words that were on Seki's back, Where would you go'?" I cleared my throat and recited the poem word for word. "Where would you go, where would you go, what is the answer you wanted to know? 'Where would you go'; what does it mean? Why would the master, destroy his own Queens?"
"The master? Queens?" Oriya lowered his head for a moment and then sighed with a deep frustration as the not so blatant answer dawned on him. "It's a reference to me, right? I'm the master… the girls are my Queens."
I nodded sadly. "Yeah... I think whoever killed the girls may have assumed your form to do it. The bartender at Ra's Sunline saw you, or rather somehow who bore your appearance, leave with the girls the night before they were murdered. Obviously so that you would bear the blame, should the case come under scrutiny from the human authorities."
"That seems to be the general gist of it, yes." Ichibana said wisely, choosing now to wrap his arms around Oriya's back and snuggle him from behind. We both ignored it; this was normal Ichibana behavior and I wasn't jealous enough to feel threatened by it. "How's the rest of it go, Bubble brain?"
I continued. "So, think about this, now you should understand, Where did you go, when you were touched by that man?"
Ichibana arched a delicate eyebrow. "That man?"
Oriya hefted an angry snort, like a bull about to charge. "If it's addressed to you, there's only one person it can mean."
So, we were on the same wavelength. I worked through the rest of the riddle, trying not to consider the implications of the words too deeply. "Where did you go? When you had been plundered? To the depths of the earth, where the dead are interred? Solve my riddle, to stay my hand, the answer is simple, the story is sad, where did you go, once the man had his way? There's only one place, where sin's washed away."
Oriya tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling. "So the words on Seki's back… were intended for you all along."
Ichibana was grinning and I thought it entirely inappropriate in relation to the context of our discussion. And then he spoke and I almost fainted from the relief and the guilt that came at his words.
"It wasn't Seki's back, Blondie."
I stared at his grinning face, my brain freezing over in confusion. "What?"
"What are you talking about?" Oriya asked, his voice potentially dangerous. Ichibana's smile just got bigger and bigger and he tightened his arms about the brunette's middle with considerable glee.
"I got a visit last night. From Kira Tsukiori."
"The demon exorcist? How is the old girl?" I didn't know Kira well. In fact, we had met only once and quite recently at that. She had brought her daughter into the Summons Section one night, when I was working late in the lab. Knowing that I had been trained in the Treatment of Physical, Spiritual, Magical and any specified Supernatural or Natural ailments, injuries and maladies, Kira had brought her young son to me in a panic, concerned by his color and the strange noises he had been making since she'd fed him. Brilliant doctor that I am, I immediately diagnosed the problem and set to work with the remedy, propping the infant up against my shoulder and patting his back until he burped.
It was her first child, so I couldn't blame her for reacting the way she did. And she had been embarrassed but when she saw I wasn't laughing at her, she thanked me with genuine appreciation. That was my first and only meeting with Kira the demon exorcist and all that I knew about her (aside from being the only undead parent to my knowledge) was that she was one of Enma's elite agents. I'm sure that this did not bode well, if she had turned up in Kyoto.
Ichibana explained to me almost everything that he had learnt from Kira during their meeting the previous night. He omitted one or two things for the benefit of Oriya and spoke only of the case specifics, confirming my speculations.
And tearing my heart wide open.
"Seki's alive…?" I asked hesitantly, once he had finished speaking. I almost didn't want to get my hopes up, in case this was some cruel joke. But Ichibana just smiled at me and let go of Oriya in order to take my hands.
"Kira checked it all out. This Popo Bawa used its' illusionary powers to throw a sort of blanket over the true Seki." The djinni made a motion in the air, demonstrating visually how someone might throw a blanket over an object. "That way, he could conceal her at the hospital whilst she was in a purposefully induced comatose state. But Kira investigated yesterday and it seems that 'Kiekemi' was checked out by her 'father'."
"Bullshit." Oriya established, hands on his hips. "Kiekemi's only living relative was a cousin and Seki's father is also deceased. Someone else took her out of the hospital."
"The Popo Bawa." Ichibana confirmed. Oriya glanced at him and then returned his eyes to me, silently inquiring.
"A Popo Bawa is a demon most usually associated with the Swahili culture, purported to live on the spice Island of Zanzibar." I explained, trying not to sound like the big demonology nerd I was. Ichibana raised a hand, piercing through the center of my elucidation.
"It's um… actually more a monster that has evolved from a djinni. A djinni summoned by a sheik, who wished to use the noble creature to enact vengeance against his neighbors, who had slighted him in some manner. But he lost control of the djinni, which evolved and took to demonic ways. It's sort of a superior demonic djinni, like what you might get if Saagatanus and I sprouted a love child." He caressed his hands back through his hair and rolled his eyes. "Though you try telling that to the demons and they'll insist there's no connection. Hell, they won't even acknowledge that they evolved from us. Demon pride, I tell ya…"
I ignored this waffle and plundered on through my definition. "The Popo Bawa is a hybrid of the Incubus, only its' preference in sexual prey is not predominately women." The penny dropped and I was stunned silent for a moment as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place and the answer lay bare in front of me. "Jesus H. Christ… Oooh!" I made a profound noise of aggravation and slapped my forehead with my hand. "Why didn't I see this sooner?!"
"See what?" Oriya asked impatiently, his gaze darting between Ichibana and I, enquiring an answer from whoever might have provided it first. "What is it?"
Ichibana cinched his arms tightly about his chest in an intensely smug manner but didn't answer him. I was apparently permitted this honor and I got the feeling that the djinni was eager to see how much of this I could figure out on my own. I brought my hand down from my face, feeling my forehead ache from the slap I had bestowed upon it but barely registering it. It was irrelevant. At long last, everything was starting to make wonderful, beautiful sense! The obviousness of it all made me want to laugh.
"The Popo Bawa…" I clenched my fists against my face, still unable to fathom the extremity of my relief and accomplishment. "It originally attacked men and preferred for them to be standing up whilst it sodomized them! Usually men that who were pre-pubescent because it preferred the tightness of children and virgins. But as it continued to evolve, so too did its' desires. It began to hunger for women but only women that possessed extreme sexual experience. So that it could demonstrate its' sexual supremacy over all the men that these women had bedded." I punched my fist into my open palm, feeling my smile spread wide in excitement. At long last, the threads were unraveling! I was going to beat this damn bastard! "The Popo Bawa hunts pre-pubescent boys and women who are sex workers by profession! That's why it has appeared here at the Kokakuro! It was drawn here because of Oriya's girls… the geisha's! And because it's a relatively new demonic strain its' primary concern is to expand its' reputation as far as possible."
"How?" Gushoushin questioned dramatically. I think they were all getting caught up in my excitement.
I started to pace, throwing out the words as soon as they formed in my mind. "When a Popo Bawa claims a victim, he will rape them for up to an hour at a time. The boys of course will be sodomized but the women will not, that's why none of the girls here were anally raped. And when the Popo Bawa takes them he threatens the victim with sustained molestation if they do not serve as messenger for him."
"A messenger?" Oriya asked as he, Gushoushin and Ichibana leaned towards me in a curved row, acting as the perfect sounding board in this scene. Ichibana was of course on the same level as me but he pretended to be as oblivious as the other two, just so I could have my moment in the spotlight.
Nice of him, eh?
"The victim must spread the message of the Popo Bawa's existence." I stopped pacing and faced my faithful audience, rubbing at my brow to keep the blood flow readily stimulated. My brain was working so hard, I wouldn't have been surprised to feel it short out at any moment. "But word of mouth isn't good enough, it's never good enough for anything as powerful as a demon. No, it has to be some sort of physical evidence and something that will further provide the demon with power, so that it can increase its' empire. So it can grow stronger…"
"Go on." Gushoushin prompted.
"If the Popo Bawa's existence is denied, it is apparently enraged and will work harder to promote itself. The only known Popo Bawa in existence was last heard of in…" I thought back to the records I'd perused those many times over. I hadn't paid particular attention to this specific demonic entity and now I was sore that I had been so remiss, in light of my current situation. "-1995 I think…"
"That's fairly recent." Oriya said, raising his eyebrow into a near perfect question mark. I nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes! Yes it is! But more importantly and this is relevant mind you, in 1942 the Popo Bawa became enraged when its' existence was denied and it possessed a girl in the village of Zanizibar. Its' voice is very distinctive; they say it has a deep male baratone and that it spoke to the villagers. It warned that it would bring about a superior memoir; a stain upon its' victims that could never be forgotten and never be removed. It would bestow a madness, an induction of violence and rage that would rend its' victims apart."
"Whoo… scary." Ichibana crooned, nuzzling up against Oriya and gripping his bicep like a 15th century wench. "Any idea what kind of mark that might be, Blondie? Kira didn't get this far…"
"Well keep up with me, cause I ain't finished yet!" I resumed my pacing, this time in a wide circle, talking mostly to myself and paying little mind to my three spectators (not including 003) who started to follow along behind me, forming a bizarre conga line of the curious. "I kept thinking to myself, 'What was the significance of the sigil?' Clearly, it is the mark of Mitkiel but there were so many errors contained therin the sigil that it seems obvious that it was intended to slur the name of the demon Mitkiel rather than correctly replicate his mark."
"Slur or promote?" Ichibana prompted. He seemed sincerely interested in my opinion.
"Oh a slur. Definitely a slur, I believe." I spun about, causing all three of my rag tag conga team to quickly halt to keep from running into me. Gushoushin's flying brake caused him to wrap about Oriya's head like an overdone pancake. "What better way to establish yourself in the demonic heirarchy than to assume the position of one of the most powerful otherworld figures to date? Mitkiel is one of the Order of the Nine Hours, a demonic-god, if the records speak true. And if a demon has designs on any position, it is not passed down according to rank or to the next of kin. To assume that position, all one demon is required to do-"
"Is destroy the demon in that position." Gushoushin concluded, his beady eyes widening with sudden realization. "But if Mitkiel is in the Order of the Nine Hours and a demon-God, he would be too powerful for an ordinary entity like a Popo Bawa to destroy. His only choice would be to enlist other powerful entities to aid him."
"They would have to be an entity stronger than the target, though not a demon because a demon could assume the position for themselves." Ichibana poked his head around Oriya's shoulder and stuck his finger in the air, replicating me to a par. "So, the only choice this Popo Bawa seems to have is to enlist Guardians of Death in his scheme. Though the Guardians would have to be oblivious to the Popo Bawa's true intentions, otherwise they wouldn't willingly assist it."
Oriya nodded, catching on. "So, what this Popo Bawa needs is to make you guys think that Mitkiel is committing these murders. So that you chase after him… and kill him… and then… assume Mitkiel's title as… what?"
"Demon-God of punishment." Ichibana concluded. "But the Popo Bawa would first have to kill the Guardians' of Death, so that they wouldn't possess the title." He pointed a finger at me coyly. "But you're onto him. Aren't you, ya sneakly little hopping corpse?"
I stuck my tongue out at him. "Right. So, instead of going after Mitkiel, we have to go after this Popo Bawa."
"That still leaves a lot unanswered though." Oriya lifted my chin and forced me to meet his eyes. "The poem that you found in the Otherplace… you still haven't explained what that means… and even what this Otherplace is!"
"I'm not entirely sure myself." I stared back into his beautiful dark eyes, wishing I had all the answers he required. Wishing I could end this thing once and for all, so that we could be together without any further hindrances. "But the Popo Bawa is a mimic by nature and that isn't secluded to shape shifting alone. It can change its form, it can hide the true form of others and it can alter its environment. From what I can see, this Popo Bawa wants to be the demon of punishment so badly, that it is already assuming the role and mimicking the true Mitkiel. It has created this Otherplace from the minds of those that it chooses to toy with, in the case of last night, mine and Tsuzuki's. It probably wants to toy with us, make us so enraged and frightened that we dash on out right away to kick the real Mitkiel's butt."
"And the poem?"
"Gives us a clue as to the host the Popo Bawa has chosen." I stated, wrapping my arms around my middle and squeezing myself with mounting insecurity. I didn't want to think about the possible, cruelly coincidental reality. "Where would you go? And 'when you were touched by that man?' It refers to Oriya and the girls… and it refers to me, suggesting that whoever was responsible for initially marking me, is responsible for taking the lives of these girls."
"Marking you?" Oriya folded his arms and stared at me with some increduality. "What do you mean 'marking you'?"
"What I mean is, that I have already met the Popo Bawa." I held out my arm, gazing down at the slightly tanned skin where only the night before I had felt those haphazard curse lines of Muraki burn deep into my bone and muscle. "I don't know how but I know he has touched me because the mark of the Popo Bawa is the Shukusatsu. It is the mark that Muraki wears. And that I wear also."
"Muraki bears those same markings?" This was apparently news to Oriya and I'm not afraid to admit that I was surprised.
"You didn't know? Well… I can't say I know any of this for sure myself but…" I patted the palm of my hand against my chest. "This is a mark that must spread and make itself known… it either draws its victims towards acts of violence and degradation… or it sends them mad or it seduces them into death. Oriya, I think that your girls... maybe even only one of them, was driven into a violent rage and may have perpetuated the deaths by the influence of the Shukusatsu. The Popo Bawa would not have killed them because that is a dead end. His mark will not be spread and for his reputation to meet no end, that is the last thing that it wants." I slapped my chest with the palm of my hand. "I have not been affected as a Guardian because I am already dead and whatever madness I endured ended when my life did." Oriya took my hand and squeezed it comfortingly. I smiled up at him, grateful for his concern. "The Popo Bawa must have changed himself into people that both Muraki and I trusted… all so that it could mark us. He is the cause of so much suffering. To think if he is responsible for Muraki… being what he is…"
Oriya was quiet for some time and when he did speak his voice was sallow with suppressed emotions. "I'd gotten used to the idea of Muraki being entirely responsible for each and every one of his actions… I thought I was beyond feeling any hope that his soul might be salvaged… but if the blame is not entirely with him." He looked up into my face, his expression renewed with fierce determination. "If we stop this… Popo Bawa, then we avenge my girls… and perhaps then Muraki…"
"May return to the way he was." To be honest, I didn't hold a great deal of hope in this but I didn't want to squelch Oriya's growing enthusiasm. "And if he is indeed holding Seki hostage… we can save her too."
"Grrr, this is getting out of hand! I'm so confused and I don't just mean sexually!" Ichibana complained, strutting about in a circle of aggravation, eyebrows furrowed and arms jamming up and down his sides like a child in a temper. "How the Heck does a group consisting of a hormonal blond nerd, a talking chicken with library priviledges, the pin up boy for Bonds briefs, a stumpy mechanical owl and a dashing, though admittedly self-interested pregnant djinni supposed to do against a maniacal sex obsessed critter from the wrong side of the tracks?"
Oriya, his jaw set firm, groaned with disapproval as he swatted Ichibana on the back of the head. "And you can cut out that attitude right now mister, or we'll never get this show on the road. Keep a positive frame of mind. All we have to do is take out this Popo Bawa thing, right? Should be simple."
Ichibana rolled his eyes back, linking his hands together behind his head. "Well all right… dinner and a movie but I ain't kissin' him. I never put out on the first date."
"You do so and that's not what Oriya meant by taking him out." I exclaimed, punching him lightly in the side. "And on that note, those of us that'll be taking him out will be, I assume, myself and any other Guardian of Death I can get to sign up for this lunatic assignment. But not pregnant djinni and… birdies… or pin up boys! They all have to stay home!"
"WHAT?!" They all screeched at me in unison. My glasses nearly blew off.
"Why should I have to sit back and let you do all the work when this creature has insulted me most of anyone?" Oriya snapped, getting all up in my face. "You're forgetting who I am! I'm no ordinary run of the mill human, you know!" He leaned back from me, eyes shining with an aggressive light and his chest swelling from a deep inhalation. "If what you said is true, this Popo Bawa is only going to get stronger once he claims the title of… of… whatever it is he wants to claim the title of."
"Demon-God of Punishment." Gushoushin quickly reminded him.
"Right, that one! And if that's true, then there's no time to waste! Look at the devestation he has already caused and times that by a hundred! We've gotta nip this thing in the bud before it gets completely out of control!" He clenched his fist and raised it, aiming a faux punch at my chin, stopping it just short of connecting. I felt the ridges of his knuckles rest against my skin, not so much as quivering from the effort of withholding the blow. I reeled back slightly before I realized that with his level of control, there was no way he ever would have slipped and brought his fist against my face. "Call your Guardians if you want but you're not leaving me sitting at home, minding the fire. I'm there with you, all the way! Dammit we started this thing together, I intend to see it through to the end."
"Oriya…" I breathed, feeling as though my eyeballs were about to pop from my skull and richochet off the lenses of my glasses. "The way you said all that just now… I've never seen you so feisty and fired up. It's kind of sexy…"
Oriya dropped his fist back down to his side and smirked at me with adrenaline fueled innuendo. "Oh, you think so, do you?"
"Focus people…" The Gushoushin's voice was just strained enough to pull Oriya back from the edge in the nick of time. He shook his head as though to clear it and then turned back to me, curling both hands around my arms and locking his eyes on mine.
"One other thing… last night when I was washing you, you mentioned something about the bathroom in the rooms where the murders occurred…and just before Ichibana joined us you said you wanted me to open the doors… What's up?"
I lowered my eyes a little, curving my eyebrows in as I set my already thoroughly abused brain back to work. "That line of the poem and the words on Seki's… I mean… Kiekemi's back; 'There's only one place where sin's washed away.' It struck a cord in me. I thought to myself, where is the first place a rape victim wants to go after they have been molested?"
"The police?" Ichibana suggested.
"The pregnancy clinic?" Gushoushin piped in.
003: McDonalds?
"No, no and 003 that's just stupid!" I said, shooting my pet a very unimpressed look. "Try to take this seriously please."
Oriya was more on track then the other two, most assuredly because of his profession. His eyes indicated that the answer to my question was to his knowledge as a result of years of experience. Just as he was able to identify the scars on my waist, so too did he understand the working of the victim who has found themselves soiled by someone who has come upon them against their will.
"The poem mentions washing away sin, so it's clearly alluding to the desire of either the victim or even the perpetrator to eradicate the evidence that the crime has even occurred in the first place." He crossed his arms, head tilted back and expression almost serene. "My girls, after they have been with a client, the very first thing they are required to do is cleanse themselves. They are of course taking the birth control pill but many of the men who frequent here will often pay extra to go bareback. That is of course, sex without a condom. So the girls must wash themselves thoroughly and then see a doctor."
I nodded, admiring and adoring his intelligence more and more by the second. "Exactly. 'Only one place where sin's washed away.'"
"But that could indicate one of two potential places!" Ichibana argued, jabbing at his palm with one long fingernail. "A: The shower or B: The bath. Assuming they wash themselves inside of course and not down in the river."
Oriya glanced down at him with that same lazy assurance. "Not down by the river, no. I'm more inclined to lean in favor of the bath. A woman… when she wishes to clean inside of her vagina, she will swab with a cloth or facewasher or any suitable material she may have at hand. The bath provides better positioning in order to accomplish this task."
Sometimes I was concerned that Oriya understood the intimate workings of womens business just that little too well. Did they actually offer this information voluntarily, or was this something he had picked up at 'Pimp School'?
"I agree with Oriya. Either way, if this Popo Bawa wanted to conceal the idenity of his host, he might have cleaned them. Internally. The samples I've tested turned up negative for everything, so I suppose it's not unlikely the Popo Bawa tried to cover his tracks."
"But what evidence could he possibly have left behind in the bathroom?" Gushoushin wondered. At this, I shrugged.
"To be honest… I don't know. But I feel that I'm being directed towards there and I can't say for sure but I get the feeling that things will be cleared up, once I've taken a look!" Ah, I'm so delightfully optimistic, am I not? "There's someone else at work here… I think Mitkiel is trying to inedvertedly help me figure out who the Popo Bawa is by leaving those clues behind and by sending his Pet and servants to intercept Tsuzuki and I."
"Well, what are we waiting for!?" Gushoushin cried, slapping his hands together eagerly. "Let's go check out this bathroom and see if anything pans out!"
We made our way to the closed hallway and Oriya unlocked the doors, letting us inside. With solemnity we moved to the rooms where the murders had occurred and stepped within once he too had granted us access. The room was still very dark and quite spooky. To take my mind off of my impending anxiety attack, I questioned Ichibana about Seki as we approached the bathroom in single, paranoid file.
"What other proof did Kira provide you, to suggest that Seki is indeed alive?" My stomach kept doing flip-flops and I had to keep forcing my joy back, withholding my urgent desire to leap in the air and scream my relief for all to hear. I couldn't survive the disappointment… not if it turned out to all be a mistake.
The short djinni petted my back but his smile grew with boisterous enthusiasm.
"She's not on the List, blondie. At least, not consistently on the list."
This threw me for a loop and I wasn't quite sure how to feel about it exactly. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is," the djinni began, waving his hands about. "Is that Seki is somehow moving back and forth between the world of the dead and the world of the living. She's somehow passing between them… perhaps this induced coma is wearing off and she's regaining consciousness on and off? But whenever she falls back to sleep, she seems to pass into some… other place."
Some 'Other place'. Just as Tsuzuki and I had both passed out and had awoken in some 'Other Place'. All a toy of this Popo Bawa, to confuse and torment us, so that we would rush off and bust a cap in Mitkiel's ass. Well, I wasn't going to be doing him no favors. If he had Seki, I would be taking her back off of him. Once I'd made him suffer for everything he had done to her, to those girls he had murdered…
… and to Oriya, whose heart had been broken.
I would never forgive this creature for what he had done! I was not a cruel man but I would see him through the Ninth Circle of Hell before I let him die, so give me the power to deliver him pain!
Ichibana rubbed my back, apparently sensing my anger. His eyes held a gentleness they normally did not possess.
"Watari… trust me. With this, if anything. She's alive. Kira doesn't get these things wrong." He gave my hair a little ruffle. "You're going to see her again. Ye hear? Yer gonna get yer second chance."
"I sure hope so," I whispered back, sighing as our merry band halted just outside the closed bathroom entrance. We hadn't investigated in there. I suppose no one had thought to, not when there had been so much to focus on within the center of the room proper. Bad investigatory skills for you and it was a slip I could have paid very dearly for, if I failed to convey it poorly to the Boss.
Of couse, he didn't have to know about not. Provided I adequately bribe the Gushoushin with a supplementary meal voucher.
"Well… here we go." Oriya provided, easing open the bathroom door. It was so dramtic; I think we all held our breaths as the light from the room outside seeped across the tiled floorwell, bathing the distance shower glass in a misty glow. Oriya hit the switch and the room was flooded verily with light. It only took us each a good second to take in what should have been seen a god damn week ago.
The bathtub was half full, the water murky. Strands of hair and congealing fluid floated on the surface and the water itself had gone a kind of funky gray color, like old dishwashing water that needed to be changed.
It had a bad smell, like stale sex if such a union could expire and I saw Ichibana pinch his nose from the corner of my eye. I didn't bother with this myself (after the Room of Corollary, I was sort of desensitized to other bad smells) and took a step into the room, keeping my eyes focused hard on the foreign object I could see, still stained by blood and buried an inch deep into the wall above the tub.
I swallowed deeply. I could still feel that cold blade pressed into the skin behind my ear. I had to remind myself that this was completely unrelated, though the weapon itself may have been the same. The very same weapon, if not the weapon.
"Boys, I think we've finally found our murder weapon."
A three by three inch diameter. A mark that could have only been inflicted by either a short samurai sword, such as the ilk adorning the walls of Oriya's room…
… or by a meat cleaver.
XxXxXxXxXx
I lifted fingerprints off of the handle of the cleaver and took a sample of the contaminated water and had a messenger come by to collect and then deliver them to the Level Four Lab, along with my urine sample.
"They'll perform a more in-depth DNA enquiry once they've received the samples." I explained to Oriya, typing up my progress report, ready to email direct to the Summons Section. "I just can't believe how stupid this guy is! Fancy leaving a weapon behind and not even bothering to wipe his fingerprints off of the handle! I mean, sure the guy wants to be noticed but that's just downright sloppy!"
"How soon will the results come back?" Oriya asked, compulsively chain-smoking his pipe as 003 coughed from his shoulder, battering the offensive fog away with his stout wing. I smirked with cocky assurance, sweeping my fingernails back through my hair.
"If all goes well, sometime early tomorrow morning. With any luck, this scum bags already on the data base and that way we can just point him out, take him down and then… Miller time!"
"Hunky dory." Oriya stated, extinguishing his pipe to 003's apparent relief and then reaching up to pet the little owl on his bushy cranium. "Well, I'll let you get on with it. Gotta go keep an eye on those kids anyhow." He climbed to his feet, and then bent his upper body down to kiss me quickly on the mouth. "You done good. All a' ya. Be sure to come down for lunch when you're ready." With a satisfied smile, he left the room, 003 vaulting free of his shoulder at the last minute, circling around to perch himself on the lid of Gushoshin's laptop and then hunkering himself down for a nap. I stretched my fingers out and cracked my knuckles, unable to wipe the stupid smirk off of my face.
"Just when I thought I couldn't wrangle a clue to save my ass, all this comes about!" I flashed my teeth at Ichibana, who returned my smile, though somewhat nervously. I did my best to ignore him, hoping that if I kept talking, he wouldn't drop whatever bad news bear he clearly had kept hidden the entire morning. "Not only have I scraped up some fantastic clues but I've found out that Seki's still alive, I have a good idea who the killer is and Oriya is taking me out for dinner tonight! Now I can just relax until tomorrow morning, without a single care in the-"
"You have to break up with Oriya."
That's when I flew across the room and hurled Ichibana out through the glass sheeting and face first into the koi pond.
Well no, I didn't. That's what misplaced projection I should have done but didn't. I just remember staring at him, thinking to myself 'He's so jealous, he just can't stand it that I've got a spunky hunk of samurai spunk and he doesn't!' But of course in my heart, I knew this couldn't be the case.
"And why on earth should I do that?" I questioned lazily, using denial to try and force the seriousness of the situation aside. If the situation was not serious, then I was not required to pay it credence.
Ichibana looked upon me with solemn eyes. His arms were crossed and his posture as stern as I had ever seen it.
"Because Enma knows."
Three words that strike fear into the heart of any Guardian who has ever had it off with a mortal. Three words that spelt instant divorce in any relationship. Three words that forced my lazy concern to take a flying leap right on into serious street. I jumped up from my seat in front of the laptop, my body positively electric.
"What?! That's impossible! How could he know?"
"Beats me." Ichibana confessed, shrugging his sloping shoulders amiably. "But Kira said he had a pretty graphic and detailed idea about just how much you've done with the guy. Seems Big Brother's watching if you get me."
"There aren't any of Enma's creepy voyeur camera's in Kokakuro! This just doesn't make any sense! I mean, there's just no rational way that he could-" And it hit me, mid screech just how perfectly rational it was. With any other Guardian, it may have been easy to conceal such an intimacy but it was just that tad more difficult when you were… well, me. "Oh shit."
Ichibana cocked his brow towards me. "Oh shit, what? Sounds like you figured this out on yer own, boss."
I nodded wearily, sinking down back into my previous position by the laptop, fingers sprouted across my forehead.
"It's Mother."
"Mother?" Ichibana came and plonked himself down before me. "You mean your Mom told Enma that you were having it off with Hot-Stuff?" His eyes widened with palpable concern. "Just how much do you tell your Mom about yer romantic liasons, anyway? Geez... that's a bit much!"
I pinched his ear lobe. "Not my real Mother! That's ludicrous! Mother is the super computer of the Ministry of Hades."
Ichibana rubbed his sore ear. "So you've been posting your sexual exploits online? Well, it was really only a matter of time before Enma stumbled across it then, wasn't it? With the way that perve grills through the porn sites…"
I shook my head. "No, you idiot! Mother is a Master Computer… it's like the center of the Ministry's intelligence. Everything we Guardians of Death ever learn goes into the heart of Mother."
"Aww… that's sweet."
"Not really…" I said, biting my lip nervously and glancing to the side. "Mother and I haven't exactly been on speaking terms since I tried to hack into her on my last assignment. She messed with my brain a bit… think I went kind of nuts there for a while."
"But that still doesn't explain how this Mother knows any more about you then Enma does?" The djinni offered, cocking his head to the side. 003 hooted nonchalantly from the laptop, listening in even though he already knew the details of my involvement with Mother.
"Because I was one of the Five Generals assigned to the Mother Project before I became a Guardian of Death. I was given special privileges, so to speak." I tapped my temple with one of my chipped fingernails. "I was Head Chief and as such I helped design Mother. To establish an interactive basis with the developing project, the five members of the development team were connected to her. A microchip was planted in our cerebral cortex, causing the tissue of the brain to continuously heal about the intrusion. This is an ongoing process that never stops. The regeneration process goes on and on but it's something that I no longer notice. More to the point, this chip acts as a kind of miniature computer terminal, allowing me to access Mother, provided I break through the required security measures. The downside is…"
"She can access your head in return." Ichibana concluded, sighing deeply as though sharing my disappointment. "Tough break, man. Fancy that, having a live in audience and not even knowing about it."
"Oh yeah…" I felt my shoulders cascading down in defeat. The idea that Enma had been watching Oriya through my eyes made me feel dirty. "Either way, there's no possible way I can hide what I'm doing from him, if he's accessing Mother to check up on me, eh?"
"Guess you know what you gotta do then."
"Indeed." I started to shuffle through my medical case. "You and Gushoushin will crack open my head and dig out that there thingymajigger with this here pair of pliers." I held them out to Ichibana with gusto. "Granted I will undoubtedly sustain a great deal of brain damage but just prop me up in front of Oriya and I'm sure he'll take the drooling for how I normally behave around him."
Ichibana cast the pliers aside and grabbed me by my frantic shoulders. "I ain't goin' there, son, for a great many reasons. That's not the answer to this dilemma and you know it."
I felt my eyes start to well up. "But… I don't want to break things off with Oriya. He's the best damn thing that's happened to me in a long time! I mean, you've seen him. Would you break up with him?" I squared my shoulders and set my finger against my temple, speaking with loud exaggerated mirth. "You listening, Mama? Well why don't you tell Enma to go fuck the horse he rode in on?"
"Blondie!" Ichibana gasped, horrified. "Kira said you'll lose your job if this continues on! That means no retirement benefits, cancellation of your dental plan and you can just say bye-bye to any chance you'll ever have of seeing Oriya again, cause you'll be movin' on! Up or down, it don't matter cause he'll still be here on earth and you won't ever get to come back here!"
That stopped my name calling short and I suckered in my mouth, as though I'd just imbibed a lemon.
"This doesn't make sense…" I whined, tapping my broken fingernails against the bench top. I really needed to set aside some time to treat myself to a manicure. "I've had relationships with mortals before! Perhaps not to the degree of infatuation that I feel for Ori but… why? Why is the Lord making such a big deal out of this?"
Ichibana gave my knee a little shake. "Beats me. If anything I'm the one 'e should be worryin' about."
I cocked my head, not sure that I much fancied the sound of this. "Meaning…?"
He repeated the information he had given Oriya the previous night, about his past service to Mitkiel and the reasons as to why he no longer served him. He also put forth a theory regarding Mitkiel's servants, whom we had thus met already.
"When I was servin' Mitkiel, I worked alongside the Cutthroat, the Bloodbath and the Daemon of Delusion; Prince Eurynomous, Mara and Balban." He counted each servant off on his fingers. "I replaced the vacated position of the Fourth Apostle. That's how Mitkiel referred to them as; his apostles. But see now, we've concluded that Mitkiel is being framed for these crimes and yet we are being confronted by his servants, yeah?"
"Yeah?" I prompted, nodding attentively.
"My guess is, Mitkiel has sent these servants scootin' about, checking up on the victims that wear the Shukusatsu. What Eurynomous did to you last night... perhaps the mark only reveals itself when you are confronted by a situation that replicates the emotional density you endured at the time the mark was made upon you. So... it goes to show that perhaps in the eyes of Mitkiel and Eury, that act of degradation was necessary." He scratched his head inconclusively. "Suppose Eury thought he was makin' it up by killin' those guys when the work was done... Ah, I dunno how that guys mind works sometimes."
I sighed deeply, not even able to fully appreciate Ichibana's insight. I was far too depressed and he could sense that. He made a sympathetic utterance and rubbed at my shoulder.
"Who am I kiddin'? Like ye even care about that crap right now?" He scooted closer and rested his arms about my shoulders, rocking my body from side to side in a brotherly sort of way. "Ye can't stop thinkin' about what yer gonna say ta Hot Stuff, can ya? Look, it don't gotta be a big deal. Just tell 'im that things are gettin' too heavy and ye need ta take a step back. Cool yer jets. Ye said it yerself; ye've been with other mortals besides Mibu. Don't see why this had got ya so worked up."
My eyes widened and I slammed my hand down on the table so hard it was a wonder it didn't snap in two.
"This is different. Oriya is… different."
"How?." Ichibana asked, as he checked the table for damage. "How is this any different to any other person or time or place?"
I shrank from this challenge. "I… I don't know! Okay? It just is!"
He shook me in his tight hold. "I'll tell ya how it's different, boy. It's different because there seems to be nothin' wrong with this man. It's different because the idea of separating yerself from 'im is makin' yer chest hurt like there's Hell burnin' deep in yer heart. It's different because you're in love with him."
I spun about in his arms, staring with incredulous shock into his exotically beautiful features.
"In.. in love?! With Oriya?" I was overcome by sudden wanker epilepsy and started shaking my entire upper boy in a great-exaggerated attempt to deny his words. "No! That's just… it's way too soon to even be thinkin' like that!"
Ichibana continued to smile in that unwavering, know-it-all-manner he must have learnt off of me.
"Then what's the big deal?"
"What's the big deal?!" I repeated, outraged.
"If you don't love him, what's the big deal?"
That had been the final straw for me. I slammed my hands palm down on the table; head hanging between my arms, long bangs swaying on either side of my no doubt somnolent expression like curtains preparing to swing shut on a rousing performance. The breaths tearing from my body were forceful and frightening. They overpowered my senses and raped me, forcing me to submit to the dominant reasoning that was being thrust against me again and again. Pinned beneath Ichibana's astute observations, there was no escaping. The truth was that much more powerful.
"Because… Because… !" I pressed my nails in sharply against the side of my face, feeling all consuming anger take hold of me. I thought I would explode if I could not soon express it. "- because my feelings are not for Enma to dictate! And so what if I love Oriya? Shouldn't I be allowed to? Isn't it okay?!"
"Watari…" The djinni's voice was as soft and gentle as it had ever been. I recalled that Ichibana had always made light of Tsuzuki's tendency to act too kindly, to treat people more gently than they deserved. But these apparent faults that he had once made fun of were the exact manner in which he treated me that night. If anyone would have understood and veiled my breakdown, it was he. He who had suffered through so much himself.
I coiled on the floor and pressed my hand across my face, caging in my tearful expression. My remaining hand I curled into a tight rock of a fist and I pounded it down against the table, cursing from between the constricted sobs that threaded through the bars of my fingers.
"Damn you! Damn you, damn you, DAMN YOU!" I screamed, propelling the entire force of my shoulder into each punch, the end result being a barrage of wood chips whistling out from the point of impact. Blood started to spray in squelchy bursts from my scraped knuckles, droplets flinging back to splatter against the rise of my cheeks. I was vaguely aware of the Gushoshin attempting to pull him away, most likely trying to save the furniture (and our account balance) before it was completely annihilated as a result of my tantrum. Ichibana too made a half-hearted attempt to restrain me and I struggled against him furiously, trying to twist in the djinni's hold to land a strike upon his face. But as an Underdweller Ichibana's reflexes were superhuman and he managed to evade most of my strokes without expending too much effort to the thought of it. I knew that if I was really serious about injuring my servant I could have done so quite easily by now. With a spell, or a simple utterance to bind him back into my glasses. But my heart wasn't in it. Ichibana wasn't the one I was angry with.
"Why is he punishing me like this?!" I shrieked in what I regretfully knew must have been a rather uncomely manner. Ichibana and Gushoshin couldn't possibly have looked more sympathetic as they placed their respective arms and wings about me. "I tried so hard! I tried! Ever since that day… Why doesn't he want me to be happy?! What's wrong with me being happy?"
"Nothing, baby," Ichibana's voice was soothing and his hold inoffensive. My throat constricted in a strangled hiccup as I attempted to hold back the birth of another sob, tears springing to life from the corners of my eyes. "Aniki… I'm sorry. But you can't fight this. Not yet. Give yerself some wriggle room fer now and do as Enma asks."
"I know… I know I gotta do it." I squeezed my eyes shut, holding a hand to my chest. "It's not right… If I was Tsuzuki, it wouldn't have to be this way. My chest wouldn't have to hurt like this."
Ichibana snorted, resting his cheek against my hair. "Look at it this way mate; you don't have ta put up with the Count, or Mad-Eye or that divinely traumatic back story. I bet Tsuzuki would rather step into your floppy clown shoes any day of the week."
XxXxXxXxXx
I went to see Oriya immediately after. He was sitting on the deck; smoking his pipe and watching Yoshi play catch with the children. I tried to slip in beside him unnoticed but Oriya's senses being as finely attuned as they were, caught me the second I approached the sliding door. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled warmly at me.
"Hey there you." He purred, gesturing for me to come closer. "Come and sit down, enjoy the sun with me. It's really a beautiful day."
I went and sat beside him, not too far and not too close. He didn't take to the minimal distance I had established and scooted closer, leaning down to share close confidences with me.
"The outfits quite racy but I rather like it." He rubbed his hand across my bare stomach and then down to my thigh, giving it an affection tap. "I can't ever get used to young people wearing such minimal clothing these days… though you do have very pretty legs. And your hair looks striking but I do think I prefer it wavy." He passed his fingers through the blond strands and then brought them down my back. I shivered as his fingertips trailed across my spine.
"Oriya…"
"There are a number of Italian Restaurants I could book us into for tonight." His arm went around me, tugged me close against his body. I fought back the pleasurable warmth and comfort his touch and proximity gave me. "Why don't you come inside and help me pick one out? I am on close personal terms with most of the maitre'd's in Kyoto, so spare no thought for the expense. I want everything to be perfect."
My heart felt heavy with despair and I let my forehead drop down into my hands. "Oh, Oriya."
His arm wet rigid and then his face came even closer against my own. I felt his breath against my skin.
"What is it? You're so… tense and upset." His other arm came around me and he pulled me into a complete embrace, trying to pull my face up out of my palms. "Has something gone wrong? With the case? Are you in trouble?" His voice lowered into a concerned susurration. "Are you leaving? Being called back to the Ministry?"
Oh if only… if only that were the worst of my problems. "Oriya…" I forced myself to meet his eyes and my resolve to continue on with this unwanted act near shattered from the depth of empathy I saw radiating out through those dark orbs. "We… we have to end it here. It can't go on any further."
His arms dropped and I looked away from his face, not wanting to witness the fall of his expression also.
"What do you mean?" His voice sounded as dry and broken as footsteps through autumn leaves, breaking beneath the traction of my heels. How I loathed Enma for this. How I loathed myself, the messenger, who had to convey it to Oriya! "You want this… to stop?" He tossed his pipe aside and clutched the sides of face between my hands, forcing my eyes back up. "Don't look away from me, Yutaka! Tell me why you don't want to be with me and show me the sincerity in your expression! … Do you think for a second that I would or could ever hurt you?"
I shook my head, as much as I could in his hold. "No. No, no, no and it's not me that wants to end this. Dear God, I want you more than anything." I wasn't embarrassed in the least to confess this. I trusted him with my feelings as well as my heart.
"Then why?"
I swallowed back a dry lump. "Enma… the head honcho of the Ministry found out about us. And… it's sort of taboo for Guardians to date mortals. The whole… dead interfering with the living… near-necrophiliac relations, that sort of thing. He proposed that if I were to continue interfering with your life, that I could be moved on."
"Moved on?" His voice was so weak and whispery I wasn't even sure what he had said at first. But I could deduce his question as one that I myself would ask where I in his shoes.
"If I'm no longer a Guardian of Death… I would move on. To… the next stage." I waved my hand about ineffectually. "Heaven… Hell… whatever. And I would never see you again."
He released my face, shifting back from me as though I had uttered something terribly uncouth about his mother. I hated that look on his face. I hated that we had been brought here to this moment…
"We can't just… keep it secret?" He brought his fingers to rest against my knee and I clutched them between my own.
"No." I said, feeling my face start to wrench in order to accommodate my feelings. Oriya's own masterfully controlled features were also beginning to crack. He didn't understand and this was hurting him because he couldn't see a valid reason to end our blissful happiness.
"Yutaka…" His fingers squeezed mine more thoroughly, as though he were grasping upon fleeting straws. I chose to watch them, rather than his progressively collapsing face. "I… I don't want this to end…" I let him cup my neck with his spare hand, though I would normally not permit such a touch. "If you had some idea of how you make me feel… the light you've brought here to me… I can't lose that."
"And I can't lose you." I replied, my own voice bent and ineffective. "If I don't end this… I end my time with you forever. And I'm not prepared to move on just yet. At least this way… I can still come see you. I can still be your friend."
"My friend…" Oriya drawled and he sounded very much as though he wanted to spit those words out onto the porch decking. "I don't know if I can stay friends with someone that I… long for this way."
I let go of his hands and brought both my arms around his neck, bringing my forehead against his. I shut my eyes and sent him the full extremity of my feelings.
"Oriya, this I promise you;" His arms slid around my waist and unified our bodies in symmetrical worship. "Together or apart, I pledge to you my eternal heart and my undying love. Forever I am yours."
He lifted his head and our mouths met in a red-hot fire, sealing my vows to the passage of his lips and soul. I started to feel overcome, my body surrendering to the physical sensations of our embrace and I knew it was time to step on out. It took everything I had to force myself free of him and to push my shaking legs up through the doorway of the Kokakuro and into the shadows of the foyer beyond.
"Yutaka…" Oriya called.
I kept walking.
- End Part One-