Morning came much too quickly, and with it arrived a dull headache and a tangle of sweaty sheets. Half-remembered dreams vied for his attention, but none stayed still long enough for him to remember anything useful. What time was it anyways? He needed a drink, and it wasn't even eight am…
It took him a full second to realize he'd raised something to his lips, and a familiar burning was touching his tongue. The bottle…. He jerked his hand away; by some miracle he didn't spill the rest of its contents. Adrenaline and fear worked far quicker than the strongest coffee ever could, cutting through the foggy haze of sleep like a knife.
A moment after he'd caught his breath, he cautiously opened his hand. Sure enough, it was the little ornate bottle from his shadow, a little less full than when he'd locked it away in his personal safe. Dojima grimaced as his tongue ran over his teeth, trying to brush away the burn of the liqueur. The heat of this taste wasn't nearly as overwhelming as the last time he'd drank its contents; it was more like a fire in the middle of a snowstorm, with the faint breath of peaches. Perhaps it was because he'd taken barely a sip…
But why had it been out, in arm's reach? He'd placed it in his lockbox, more so to keep himself safe from it, than the other way around. He'd never slept walked before, nor would he have any reason to go to it in the middle of the night.
'Ryotaro…'
His dreams echoed in his mind. Had his nightmares made him a puppet to their whims? He recalled, vaguely, being told he'd been chosen for something, but beyond that was the blossoming pain of a headache.
So instead of deciphering prophetic dreams of shadows and gods, he opted for a shower. A cold one, to wash away some of the fire that was already stoking through him.
Steam filled the bath, even as he'd turn the dial past 'cold' and into 'glacial ice flow'. Water sizzled on his skin, the heat turning it to vapor in an instant. This wasn't just the usual burn of alcohol; whatever that stuff was doing to him, it was causing a fever that by all rights he should be dead from. The tile of the bath warmed uncomfortably as he braced against it, almost glowing between his fingers, all the while he tried willing the flame to extinguish. It felt like ages before the boiling abated, and some sense of normalcy returned.
With it, came freezing his ass off. "Shit!" Hands scrambled for the taps, trying to adjust the water temperature to where he normally left it.
A futile shave later, and he was back to the bedroom to change and find out how Souji and his friends planned to extract Adachi from his own little world.
The bottle still stood on the nightstand, mocking him. Something in the back of his head (his shadow? His dream? His nightmares? His masochistic tendencies?) tried to cajole him into taking another drink. "Like Hell I will."
The bottle didn't respond.
Trying not to let the anger get the better of him, he snatched the bottle up, walked back to his closet to the small safe there, and yanked the door open. The offending item was placed all the way in the back, out of sight, and hopefully, out of mind. Dojima was going to close the safe and just forget it even existed.
It took a moment to realize that was going to be much more difficult than he originally planned. He had assumed the safe was still unlocked from whenever that night he'd retrieved the bottle; he'd been mistaken. The solid metal door hung from his grip; the locking mechanism sheared off and the titanium bolts still dangling from the hinges, ruined.
This was going to take some getting used to.
Trying his best not to get caught up at how easy it was, he bent the door back into place, closing it with a hard squeeze at each of the edges. It was just as well they were going to Junes…
Yu tried to remember the last time he'd seen his uncle in something other than his usual grey dress shirt and slacks. Memory failed him, so he just tried his best not to stare when the older man had come to the front hall in jeans and a loose BayStars baseball sweatshirt that was left unzipped. Unremarkable, really, and rather perfect for blending into a crowd. Knowing his uncle, that was probably his intention. Still, something just felt ...odd about seeing Dojima like this.
Apparently, everyone else on the Investigation Team felt much the same way. "Dude, it's just… freaky seeing Dojima-san not dressed like a cop!" Naoto's elbow was doing little to get Kanji to shut up.
"You know I can hear you, Tatsumi; knock it off!" The girls were doing their best to hide their smiles (well, not Yukiko, but even Dojima knew there was no stopping her once she started), and Yu just tried mentally to apologize repeatedly. It didn't help that Yosuke whispered that all Dojima-san needed was a 'I'm too old for this shit' sign and the scene would be perfect. Uncle must of heard that too, because he 'accidentally' tripped the boy shortly afterward.
He was still grumbling on why they hadn't just headed straight to Junes and be done with it when they entered the Daidara Metalworks. Daidara's scarred face broke into a grin at the sight of his favorite customer. "Ah, back again? I must say I've missed the fine materials you brought me last year, and your keen eye for craftsmanship...eh?" The newcomer with the boy caught his eye. "Detective Dojima, it's been a while. Are you looking for another repair on your service weapon?"
"No, no… I came with my nephew here." Yu winced at the glare burning into the back of his head. His uncle was probably figuring out why he and Yosuke had been caught with the weapons in Junes almost two years ago now….
Dojima scanned the walls as his nephew bartered several of the items they'd picked up in the tv world. The bat he'd picked up before had been good in a pinch, but the kid was right; a few more battles and it would probably snap in two. Still, he had like the feel of it, and the idea of a sword or knife just didn't seem to fit…. Then his eyes noticed a set of traditional samurai gear, and he smirked.
The kanabo that Daidara had was solid metal, and had to be at least five feet in length. The main portion of the weapon was covered in dull spikes; they wouldn't prick your finger, but they'd break bone if they connected right. A nasty, brutish weapon that required brute strength and reflexes to wield effectively. It was perfect.
Daidara raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Dojima carried the kanabo with one hand over for his nephew's opinion. Yu nodded his approval, and part of the money he'd just received returned to the smith's hands for the weapon, and kendo case to disguise it with, despite Dojima's objections. "Uncle, you helped get the materials in the first place, so it's only fair we use the money to buy it."
Dojima still grumbled, but left it at that.
"Man, this thing weighs a ton! This is worse than that the steel plate you drag around, Kanji!" Yosuke had groaned as he'd tried to pick the kanabo up a little later at the back entrance to Junes.
"Well, yeah, it's supposed to be, dumbass! Samurai used it to smash open armor and break bones! It's the traditional weapon of ogres and oni because of that!" Everyone cocked an eyebrow at Kanji for the impromptu history lesson. "S-stop looking at me like that! So I like to watch history programs when I knit!"
Hard to believe this was the same kid he'd arrested after punching half a dozen gang members in the face, but then again, his nephew seemed to have that effect on people. He always seemed to be able to draw out the inner depths of people and make the most of them. Even Dojima himself wasn't immune to his nephew's abilities to make you face the worst in yourself, and come out better for it.
That line of thought was cut off as he realised the group of teenagers around him slowed to a halt. In front of them, Junes' biggest TV sat on display, its screen blank. Yet, now knowing what it led to, Dojima couldn't help but feel unease at that dark surface. The apprehension only grew as his nephew pushed into it, the blackness rippling around his hand. A moment later, glasses on, they all followed the young man. Falling in.
After the dark skies and ominous buildings of before, Dojima was surprised by the scene of nature around them as they recovered from their entrance. "This looks different."
The kid in the bear suit nearly gave him a heart attack when he answered from behind. "This is the way this world is supposed to look, without the fog and people inside it. It reacts to people's inner thoughts. After you took everyone out who didn't belong, it started to turn back… except for there…."
Even without following the bear's pointing mitt, it would be hard to miss what he was referring to. There, a little ways off in the distance, was a dome of darkness and fog, looming like a villain's castle in a fairytale. "Adachi." As if there was anyone else such a pit could belong to.
Yu glanced at his uncle, and understood the older man's anger. He'd nearly lost it all because of his former's partner's sick game. Now, instead of stuck in a hospital, watching his only daughter cling to life, Dojima had the chance to finally, properly, bring Adachi in.
Yu just hoped he could keep his uncle from killing the man beforehand.