Chihiro knocked on the door with a delivery of wrapped up flowers in his hand. He yawned, making his eyes go teary. It was Tuesday afternoon, just after closing time for the infamous Beauty + WiFi Café. As the head florist, it was his job to replace and make arrangements for the small business.

The bundles he had in his hand could most simply be described as flower bouquets—three, to be exact.

Oowada pulled open the door as soon as he saw the little guy standing outside and greeted him with a smile.

"Hey, Chihiro!"

Chihiro smiled back, but not as much as he usually did. There was actually a reason behind his visit. Usually, he would have sent someone else to make deliveries. "Mondo. It's nice to see you again."

"You bet. Come in, man."

Oowada made two of the guest chairs face each other so they could chat a little. It had been a while since he had actually seen Fujisaki. They talked on the phone to discuss requests and the lot. They called each other once in a while to talk about themselves, but this had been the first time in, what, two weeks? Oowada wondered what had kept Fujisaki from visiting.

"What's up? You usually don't make the deliveries."

"Do you remember that request I took on a few weeks ago—the one with the, er…"

"The one I told you to deny?"

Fujisaki gritted his teeth. "Yeah. I mailed them back saying I wouldn't take on their request. But because I've never made on of those, I wanted to do it anyway, for myself."

"Are you serious?" Oowada's voice lowered. Why didn't Fujisaki tell him about it? He wouldn't have thrown a tantrum or anything. The only reason he had told him it was a bad idea was because of the request outline. It could kill.

"As I was saying, I've never had such a request, so I made it anyway. I thought it over, so I decided to deprogram the darn thing." Fujisaki said. "You were right. Having such a thing in anyone's position was dangerous."

"Did you finish deprogramming, or whatever?"

"No. The item was stolen. I was struck and I collapsed on the floor. They most likely didn't check to see if I was alive or not, counting on the fact that they were there for less than 5 minutes."

The air grew cold. "How'd you know that?" It was amazing to see how precise he was.

"I have a sensor on my bedroom door. Whenever it opens, the time gets logged. I don't know how they got in, in the first place, but I looked at the clock on my desk before I flopped over." He sighed. "Because they were the only person, beside you, that knew I was making it, originally, that is, I wrote another letter and sent it to them requesting the item's return."

Oowada was surprised Fujisaki had gone to such a length. He knew for certain that if it was a younger version of the guy, he would have left it at that. "That's great! What did they say?"

"It's not anything to celebrate over."

"What is it?"

Fujisaki's eyes strayed. "I must have sounded too weak. They didn't want to send it over to me."

"Well, they know that you want it back, right?" Oowada saw how tight he was gripping the bouquet wrapping. "That's something in and of itself."

"They want to meet up face to face, Mondo."

What? Why? Had they grown suspicious of something? Fujisaki had been training for a while now, but nothing could help him get over his naturally small build. A confrontation would only bring more trouble. Besides, it was dangerous as it was.

"Where?"

He sighed. "In the letter, my client sent me one of your business cards with a little map scribbled on the back. I tried to match it up with an actual location, and the result was _ bridge. I don't have the slightest clue as to what your business card has to do with anything."

Fujisaki stood up straight. His shoulders heightened. "I need your help, Mondo. Please go with me this Friday." His face reddened and he scrunched his eyebrows. "I don't have anyone else that can go."

Oowada sighed and slumped over in his seat. "So your lame client has that instant-pistol thing that can aim that body parts by voice command, right?"

"It's still in the developing stage, but I think it'd still be functional."

Oowada stood up. "Well, count me in, bud." How hard could it be? He couldn't let the little dude go by himself, now, could he?

##

Ishimaru sipped on his 5th cup of coffee for the day and looked at the newspaper. He coughed.

During his day in the office, there was a new item added to the latest victim's autopsy report. A bit of luxury pink nail polish was found on the sleeve of his coat. It looked like the streaks made out a word, but the investigators, himself included, weren't sure what it was yet. No new information presented itself. It was giving Ishimaru a big headache. There were no witnesses. The only thing that struck him as peculiar were the houses. None of them showed signs of having been broken into. That meant that the killer had entered with consent of all victims.

There must have been something. Anything.

He ran his fingers through his freshly trimmed and blow-dried hair. Oh, that's right. He set his mug down on a coaster and took the promotional card out of his pockets. The print sparkled as it was hit by the light coming in from one of the windows.

When he went to get his hair done earlier today, the lady at the desk had almost told him something about this card. That was when Oowada intervened and told him to "sit his ass down" at one of the salon chairs lining the left wall.

Needless to say, his hair was dried after it was washed and the tips were cut off because they had "died." That stuff.

He thumbed the back, which was laminated and shiny. His fingertips felt rough against the glossy cover. In the top left corner, there was a little arrow pointing at the very corner. Peel here, was written in a small white font. Ishimaru picked at it with his fingernail before he got a hold of the thin sheet. He peeled it off as directed.

Beneath it had been a little scribble of some sort, barely identifiable. The lot of it had come off because the lead had stuck to the sticky plastic sheet back.

Maybe someone had written on the back of the card, expecting to keep it. It must have been processed by accident, or something. On the back of the plastic peeling read as following: Congratulations! You will be taken care of by Oowada, Mondo. Well, heck. Oowada would have cut his hair anyway.

##

Fujisaki finished setting up the flowers and lugged the bag with all the old ones. "Oh, Mondo!"

"Yeah?" Mondo answered from the back section of the room.

Fujisaki reached into his coat pocket and felt the material it was lined with. He shoved his hand into his other pocket and felt his keys.

"What is it?"

He slipped his left shoe off and shook it. He did the same with his right. Fujisaki felt around his torso and arms.

"Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"The card. I remember placing it in jacket."

Oowada immediately picked up how serious this was. "Did it get mixed in with the other ones when your group was placing the sticky sheet on the back?"

"I don't know. I was there that day, though. It might have fallen out."

They looked at each other with disdained expressions. Oowada immediately rebounded.

"But you know where to meet, right?"

"What if they ask for some sort of identification?"

"You can bring one of the other gizmos you've done."

Fujisaki sighed. "They'd easily say I was a fraud, and shoot on the spot."

a/n:

Aaa, sorry for the desu desu Chimondo. If you find me contradicting myself, please tell. I seem to do that. Oh, and thanks for the comments and favorites, and what not! I'll try to update weekly. (No promises, though, because I'm starting school soon.)