The next few days seemed to drag on forever. No leads, no progress, just the endless shuffle to and from work.

Something must have been bugging his nephew, because the young man seemed to draw his shoulders in when the detective arrived home, and began peppering the older man with strange, almost disjointed questions. Yet whenever the questions turned back to Yu, the boy would suddenly straighten in his seat, deflecting the question. Particularly when asked about the 'Marie' character from the TV world that had asked to see him. Or anything about the shadow world lately. It was the behavior of a guilty party, and Dojima was tempted to weedle the boy's secrets out of him. He knew better after last November, and wisely just humored his nephew, sure that eventually the silver haired teen would tell him what was going on.

He had been slightly concerned by the number of books on Japanese mythology his nephew had been bringing home and flipping through whenever he noticed his uncle. "Didn't peg you as one to be big on folklore. Did something pique your interest?"

The teen merely shook his head, shoulders drawing tight again. "A friend mentioned something that made me curious." Before the detective could press further, the young man changed the topic. "How are you feeling?"

Dojima grunted at that question. The chill had grown worse since the the failed arrest of Seitou, and even his sergeant had voiced his worry that Dojima was pushing himself too far. "I know you're worried that you've got to prove yourself all over again after the nonsense Adachi, but running yourself ragged isn't going to help. You already impressed brass with your quick thinking at the safehouse; so take a breather, ok?"

Once again, he wished he still craved cigarettes. At least they gave his hands something to do when his brain spun out of control. Instead those fingers rubbed his temples as he willed himself not to overthink everything. Only after the awkward silence continued to fill the kitchen, did he realize that his nephew was still waiting for an answer beyond a noncommittal grunt. "I'm fine, Yu. Just still a bit cold." He hardly wanted to admit he was missing the fire that driven him mad. Another shiver shook him. "Maybe I am coming down with something…"

Any further conversation was swallowed by the sound of the front door opening. "Daddy, Big Bro, I'm home!"

Confusion flooded Dojima. Did he forget the time? With the convicts on the loose he'd been determined to keep a closer watch on Nanako, particularly after the sun set… while the father in him didn't want her to, Dojima had agreed to let her continue the various lessons she signed up for. He'd just promised he'd pick her up from her lessons. The kitchen clock read 6:30 pm, however…hadn't she told him the class went until 7?

The answer to Nanako's early arrival stepped into the main hall a moment after the energetic girl. "Hey, sempai...uh, Dojima-san. Nanako was the only one at the knitting class tonight, so I offered to bring her home." The former trouble making Tatsumi ducked his head awkwardly at the two older men. "Sorry, I shoulda called beforehand. Guess people are still spooked to go out after dark…"

"Thank you for looking after her." Dojima motioned him inside, honestly thankful. Funny how the glasses cut right through the punk image, even with the bleached hair. Kid wasn't a saint, but he'd done a lot to clean himself up in the past year, right down to teaching knitting and sewing classes at his family's shop. "We actually were planning to run errands after picking her up. Do you want a ride home?"

Surprisingly, Tatsumi blushed. "Ah, I'm not going straight home...actually, uh…"

Puzzle pieces fell together in Dojima's mind. Ah, that's right, he probably was going after the pintsized detective. "Or the police station, if you were hoping to catch Naoto. She did mention she was planning to stay late today."

That sent the bleached blonde sputtering, blush rising to his cheeks. "Wait, how did you… I mean, I dunno what yer… d-did Naoto say somethin'?" Ah, teenage love. Tatsumi was redder than a tomato at this point.

"Not in as much, but I am a detective, son." That, and he'd have to be blind after seeing them leave the station more than a few times together. He'd also gotten a good look at Shirogane's phone background when she'd been pulling up a text. It was almost painful how awkward the two of them were, but they seemed to make it work. As long as he didn't catch them messing around the police station (or, god forbid, Tatsumi knocked her up…), it wasn't any of his damned business.

Yu was barely suppressing a smirk. "I'm sure she'd be glad for the company, Kanji. As you said, people are still nervous about going out, and the streets are pretty empty after dark…" Dojima raised an eyebrow; how much of a matchmaker had his nephew being playing at the last year?

Tatsumi was still blushing brighter than a stoplight. "I-if you don't mind...t-that'd be awes- I mean, I'd be really grateful, sir."

The car ride was a silent affair, save for the occasional switching of the radio by Nanako. They'd arrived at the police station just in time for Tatsumi to catch Shirogane walking out the main double doors. She had smiled broadly at him, until she recognized the car he'd arrived in, and he boss and sempai grinning from the tinted windows. It was almost cute, the way the two of them both turned the same shade of bright red. Nanako began asking her 'big bro' if Kanji and Naoto were getting married, and Dojima decided that was his cue to change the subject. "Let's leave them be. What should we get from Junes?"

The department store was rather busy, despite the rather deserted streets. Dojima let Nanako and Yu figure out what the house needed, and absently browsed up and down the aisles, not really seeing what was on the shelves. He paused by a clerk offering samples of some discounted liquor, enticing shoppers with nonsense words about bouquets and woody notes. Another chill hit the detective then, and the young lady must have noticed. "Try a sample, sir? A good drink drives the cold right out."

There's a bottle at home that would drive the chill away for good, if you'd just be willing to drink it.

The echoes of his shadow made the detective wince. Damnit, not now! He shook it off, and looked up to check if the clerk had noticed his odd behavior.

"Sir?" The edges of his vision seemed to blur for a moment. A young couple caught his peripheral vision; they were in the midst of rather violent argument, and in slow motion, he watched the man stagger back from a loud slap of her hand, right into the large case of sake next to them. The shelves shook, and he could see the center of mass shift off balance, the megalith of alcohol tipping over in the direct path of the clerk. The poor shopgirl had just enough time to scream, certain of her doom. Dojima, moving on instinct, crossed the short distance and caught the edge of the heavy unit with one hand, stopping its crushing fall. After a moment, he easily pushed it back into place with barely a grunt. It felt like everything was still in slow motion...

Time snapped back into place. The young Junes employee looked back and forth between her savior and the massive shelf that had almost squashed her flat. "Oh my god...t-thank-"

Whatever else she was going to say was lost as her eyes rolled back in a dead faint, falling almost to the floor before he caught her. Detective protocol kicked in, and he quickly checked her pulse and involuntary response. She'd be fine; just a bit overwhelmed from the terror of the situation.

People behind him were beginning to murmur and ask what happened, with words such as 'incredible' and 'adrenaline' bantering around. His nephew appeared through the mass of people, gently helping his uncle lower the young saleswoman to the floor. Hanamura was a quick second behind, chattering away into a store radio, as the older man stood up from the floor. "Oh, man, that was intense! Dojima-san, are you alright?"

The detective took a moment to answer as he surveyed the scene. Aside from a few askew bottles, the heavy shelf was no worse for wear...except for a small distinct bend in the upper shelf where he'd caught the damn thing. He hoped no one else noticed… "Thank you, I'm fine. She'll need a moment to recover, probably away from all these people." Hiding his embarrassment at all the attention (who was the awkward fool now, old man?), he gingerly picked up the poor clerk and followed Hanamura to a small employee-only back room, sitting her on a couch.

"Seriously, though, nice save out there, sir. That shelf, fully loaded, can weigh almost half a ton...if anyone else had tried that, they'd be flattened like a pancake. I'm sure Yuni-san is grateful for your save." He nodded at the girl, who was already starting to rouse. "Er, you probably want head back now. I promise I'll make sure she's alright. Thanks again, Dojima-san."

The detective nodded and pushed his way back to the sales floor. Yu waved him over, while Nanako grasped his hand, commenting on how her daddy was a hero in a sing song voice. "Daddy, you saved the day! You're so strong!" That gave him something to think about on the silent ride home. Half a ton… that was 500 kilos… sure it had been at an angle, but it still was a lot. How much strength did he have these days? He'd been so worried about getting caught doing something he couldn't explain, he hadn't bothered to figure out what his upper limit was. If he ended up in a situation where he didn't have a choice, he'd do more harm than good if he didn't know what was beyond even these supernatural abilities. The idea was frightening, but better safe than sorry.

As Nanako dragged Yu into the house, Dojima lingered in the car park, working up the courage to go through with this frankly stupid test. He took a quick glance around to make sure there were no prying eyes (besides the few stray cats that watched him with disinterest), and let out a rattling sigh. Still feeling like an idiot, he steadied himself and leaned down to the bumper, grasping it with both palms. Just as he strained against it, arms and legs beginning to protest and thinking about how foolish he was to attempt this, the car moved. The front wheels rose an tenuous inch, then two. While there was no way he'd be able to lift the whole thing, he'd still managed to lift the front of a 2 ton SUV up several inches off the ground. He nearly dropped the whole thing, shocks be damned, at the realization of what he'd just done. He stepped back, breathing heavily and staring at his arms like they where completely alien to him. This was nuts.

"Daddy! Dinner's ready! Aren't you coming inside?" Nanako's voice called from the front door, snapping him out of his abject terror and back to reality.

"Coming, sweetie." He stared at his hands for a moment longer, then wiped them in disgust on his slacks. He'd deal with this revelation later.

The house settled quietly as the night flowed through Inaba; Nanako was tucked in and fast asleep, and Yu was in his room, hopefully studying for his entrance exams. After wrestling with a few more pieces of useless tips and leads on a few cases, Dojima gave up on distracting himself and retired to his own bedroom.

The chill was getting worse now, even though he knew the house was well heated. Just changing out of his clothes made him feel like he was going to lose digits to frostbite. A growl rose in his throat over the absurdity of it all. Burning was preferable at this point. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, but he knew what would fix this, however temporarily.

Ignoring the shivers wracking his body, he shuffled to the back closet and sat gingerly on the floor in front of the new safe he'd finally gotten, to replace the one he busted. Delicately he thumbed the digits until Chisato's birthday was entered in; the door swung open and he shuffled through the paperwork and small trinkets inside until his hand grasped what he was looking for.

The little ornate vial seemed to glow in the dark bedroom, the liquid sloshing gently against the etched glass. He could feel a heat emanating from the bottle within his fingers. What would happen if he took another drink? There was no guarantee it would bring back the fire it had once ignited in him, or what new complications it could create. He had a hard enough time keeping under the radar now, what good would it be to make it worse?

Something inside him shifted, and the voice of his shadow, slightly off key, voiced those thoughts he was denying. You miss the fire and the way it let you lose control. You want to protect people, or you wouldn't have risked exposure so often. As scared as you are, this feels natural to you - maybe that what scares you more? - and you want to see how far the rabbit hole goes. Better to go out in the blaze of glory than to freeze in failure.

The silver top hit the floor with a dull thud, but he didn't notice, his eyes squeezed shut. The burn of the liquor was almost minimal this time, but he still almost choked after taking in less than a mouthful, slamming the bottle down with a quarter of the liquid still splashing angrily inside. He swallowed, then sucked in air with quick gasps, trying to remember how to breathe. A wave of warmth spread from his throat to his core, then out to his limbs, burning off the chills that had racked him moments before. His blood hummed in his ears, strangely soothing and without the angry roar it once had. Warmth blanketed his mind, drawing him towards sleep.

Dojima barely remembered corking the vial and placing it back in the safe. Exhaustion suddenly overtaking him, he stripped off the extra layers he'd piled on before, chill long gone, and sunk into the futon, weighted down by slumber. He was fast asleep in a matter of moments, unaware of the trickle of smoke that escaped his lips.

"Hoori."

Ryotaro frowned, eyes still adjusting to the light of the red room around him. "Dunno who Hoori is. M'name's Ryotaro. Dojima Ryotaro." He blinked rapidly, trying to get his eyes to focus. Was he in a temple of some sort?

"Yes, you wear the humanity of this Ryotaro now. You went by Hoori, long ago. Before they quenched your fire and saddled you with a farmer's scythe instead of your hunter's bow." None of this made any sense. Where was this voice come from? Still, something in the back of his mind dredged up bits of an old myth he'd learned in high school. Something about a hunter prince of the mountain losing a fish hook and marrying the dragon princess under the sea. "You remember."

As his vision focused, he realized the voice that kept calling him Hoori was coming from the only other occupant in the red temple hall; a great golden dragon that lounged in a giant wave shaped throne. "Kohryu…?"

"Merely a disguise, so those who would keep you frail and human would not act before you regained yourself, my lost son-in-law. How fares my grandchild? Her mother misses her so. Sadly, she could not stay on land forever."

Now Ryotaro was really confused. Grandchild? Chisato had been an orphan, as far as he;d known, and it would have been fairly obvious if he'd been a son-in-law to a dragon. Still, there was great affection in the booming voice. "Nanako…she looks like her mother more and more... grows like a weed, too. She's taken up the piano. But I don't understand...Chisato…"

"Otohime still loves you, even as fate keeps you apart. She followed you into the veil of humanity, even without guarantee she'd find you. Your love was always stronger than even the myths that rules us all. She still watches over you. But this task is beyond her purview; this is a matter of the Gods. It's time for you to hunt again, and you will need all the strength you once had. Step forward Ryotaro who was once Hoori, and remember who you once were. Say my name, so I might grant you my power to keep mankind safe. Say my name, and regain the fire you once held. Say my name!" The coils of the dragon shook with the growing boom of the dragon's ethereal voice. It was all Ryotaro could do to hold his ground as the roar crash over him like a wave.

Waves… A name rose up from the depths of his mind, filling his mind with visions of the ocean a violent sea.

Moving on their own, his feet steadied and stepped forward to stand a hand's breadth from the great dragon's maw. The sound of his own voice, calm and clear, surprised him as it answered the dragon's call.

"Ryūjin…"

Gold scales evaporated in a blinding light, and coalesced into the humanesque form. Blue armor mimicked dragon scales, and clawed gauntlets gripped an oversized kanabo that was studded with massive spikes. A traditional samurai mask stylized with the features of the great creature hid the man's face from Ryotaro, but the voice of the great Sea Dragon still reverberated in his skull. "I am thou...and thou art I...From the sea of thy soul, I come…." The booming voice was too much. He was blacking out...

Dojima sat up from his bed with a start, his chest heaving and sweat dripping in his eyes. Even as a deep, rolling laughter rang in his ears, the strange dream faded from his grasp. Something involving past lives and dragons. Probably read one too many bedtime fairy tales for Nanako. Still, he knew what the dream had been, it had shaken him to his core. A name tugged at the tip of his tongue.

"Ryūjin…?" Something in his head and heart shifted in response. His persona had… evolved? Changed? It felt deeper and stronger than the tenuous connection before. The dragon was restless, and it was making his body sing with energy.

For the first time since this whole mess started, the spark of confidence grew within Dojima.

He'd keep Inaba safe, no matter what.

Author Notes:

For those not familiar with Japanese mythology, Hoori (whose name originally contained the symbol of fire, but morphed to mean 'great harvest') was the youngest son of the god Ninigi-no-Mikoto, and known as the hunter prince of the mountain of fortune. After losing his elder brother's fishing hook, he ended up in the court of the Sea Dragon Ryūjin, and fell in love with his daughter, Princess Otohime. However, after seeing his bride's true form during the birth of their son, they are forced apart, and Hoori is left to return to his homeland to raise the child himself. (Sound a little familiar?)

So Marie wasn't that far off- Dojima's got a secret that even he doesn't know about. How will this help or hurt him in his attempt to protect Inaba? That's for me to bang out, and hopefully for you to read! (The poor Dojima car; when he isn't making it do high speed chases, he was dooming the poor thing to a glorified barbell to show off with).

Comments and kudos keep me writing, and are greatly appreciated.