A/N: It's true! I have arisen from the dead for real now! I'm adjusting to uni life and coming to grips with what happens around me... which also includes a load of reading! It's only week one and I'm already complaining about the workload... In all honesty, though, one of my friends studies Computer Science and her course sounds far more demanding by comparison, so I'm glad to be a lazy arts student. Speaking of which, if I haven't said so already, I'm studying Ancient History, so I'm technically learning about Grandpa Rome (and a little bit of Germania)!

Also, on a more interesting note... I'm going to an anime con tomorrow! This'll be my first one and I'll be on the lookout for merchandise to stick around my humble uni room, because there are still blank patches on my walls... Anyway, if there are any Hetalia posters there, I'm obviously sold. I won't be cosplaying, unfortunately, because I left the Miku wig at home... and I don't have anything else with me! I've always wanted to cosplay as Japan, though, so I think I'll start gathering the outfit for when the time comes next year! I'm excited to see all the cosplayers there, and I hope to take lots of photos!

Thank you for your patience, and without further ado, here's the next chapter of Investigasians!

Chapter 15

The first thing Yao noticed was how surprisingly clean Gilbert Beilschmidt's new house was. The hallway had seen a recent hoovering, the windows were cleaned within an inch of their lives, a little photo frame he had on the worktop was polished and not a speck of dust could be found. The amount of cleaning that had been performed made it seem as if nobody lived there. It made the house impersonal, because Beilschmidt didn't even leave those odd bits of paper that most people have lying around. Of course, Yao had to admire him for that. His tidiness only meant that, if Beilschmidt had something to hide, it was would be easier to find. The criminal had made the investigator's job easier.

Yong Soo had somehow drifted into the kitchen. "He eats a lot of potatoes."

"We eat a lot of ramen," he followed him into the room. "That doesn't mean anything, aru."

"No, I was just pointing it out," he closed the fridge, wearing a mournful expression on his face. "He likes beer, too, by the looks of things. Rather empty, though."

"He just moved here," Yao sent him a look. "What were you even hoping to find in his fridge?"

"I'm not sure," Yong Soo frowned. "I just figured look everywhere."

A quick glance around the kitchen confirmed there was nothing out of the ordinary. Yao sent Yong Soo to look in each and every drawer he could find in there, whilst he went exploring around the rest of the house. His feet carried him into the next room, a small sitting room that was cramped with furniture. The coffee table had been wiped clean, and a couple place mats had been set down. The TV was dust-free and a knitted yellow bird sat on a shelf in between another photo of a young man and a small potted plant. A music stand stood to the corner of the room and on it, sheet music.

Yao's heart leapt as he approached the notes scrawled on the lines. He flicked through, trying to determine whether the piece met its end or not. Yao, however, had never been educated in any form of music, and had never endeavoured to learn how to read it, either.

"Yong," he called out into the house. "Come here."

"What is it?" Yong Soo asked, wandering into the room.

"Did you finish your search of the kitchen, aru?" he asked.

"Almost," his sidekick replied.

"A quick moment, please," he waved the sheet music around. "Do you play an instrument?"

"Ah, I used to play piano," Yong Soo admitted sheepishly. "But not anymore… Why?"

Yao had to trust in Mrs Im to push her son towards the musical side of academics. She always tried to make him the young gentleman he never was, but her attempts, in this case, were useful to Yao.

"Can you still read music, aru?" he asked, beckoning the younger man closer.

Yong Soo picked his way past the coffee table and sofa to peer past Yao's shoulder at the last lines of the music. "Should do?"

There was a pause as his eyes scanned over the lines, then his finger drifted to the last few notes where a single line had been drawn over the lines. "You see that there?"

"Yeah," Yao replied. "Does that mean the music finished?"

"No, it's just where the tempo beat finishes on rotation," Yong explained. "If it was the end of the piece, then it would be a double bar."

"This isn't finished, then," Yao concluded. "Which means these could be the missing sheets we were looking for, aru."

"The last song Niklas Edelstein was writing before he died..." Yong Soo's eyes were large as he looked at Yao fearfully. "Would he really leave them out in the open like this?"

"Who knows?" Yao took them. "But I'll be keeping these to confirm with Roderich if these were his father's. You can finish your search in the kitchen, aru."

Yong Soo did as asked, and Yao continued to survey the sitting room. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary; he opened the drawers under the table and found several rock CDs, but also a collection of classical music at the bottom. Gilbert Beilschmidt truly was a strange man. Yao left the room, satisfied that his search in the lounge was finished. There was a bathroom and a pantry, but nothing in either room interested Yao enough for him to investigate. He decided to leave the garden for last. It would be easy to tell if something out there was strange.

He carried himself upstairs and into a bathroom. There was a can of shaving cream, body spray, toothbrush and used toothpaste. He was rather minimalistic in the bathroom sense, and nothing was hidden there. Yao left and went into his bedroom. This would be where his darkest secrets would be kept.

Opening the wardrobe, he found Beilschmidt was a fan of hoodies and jackets. There were several of the same black tank tops, and he seemed to like plain, dark jeans. A duffel bag was spotted in the corner. Yao took a photo of that. He would like to compare it to the video footage Lei had obtained of the music theatre. He opened it, just in case, but it had been gutted of any items. Thoroughly, Yao checked the pockets of each jacket and hoodie, but his searching hands came back empty. He rifled through his bedside drawers, but they were so neat. He found a diary.

Yao held it up and tried to open it, but it was sealed with a ten number padlock. Turning it to all noughts, Yao came back unlucky. He should probably take this, have the padlock broken and take a look through for any evidence. Dropping to his knees to check under the bed, he found a black painted steel box. It was about the length of Yao's arm. His heart hammered, but it had another number lock. Beilschmidt was oddly protective over his items. Yao took the box as well. Like the diary, it would serve as suitable evidence when convicting him. The monetary reward offered by Edelstein was just around the corner at this point. Yao found nothing else in the bedroom.

He trudged downstairs with his findings, pleased that he'd managed to gather so much in such a short amount of time. Strangely, Yong had been slow looking around the kitchen. He peered in to see he was slacking off and had helped himself to a beer.

"What the Hell, Yong?" he scowled, and the young man jumped. "What are you doing, aru?"

"It's just one beer," he protested. "And besides, if he's going to the slammer, he's hardly going to need them…"

"What have I told you about drinking on the job?" Yao folded his arms.

"Sorry," Yong set it on the table awkwardly. "I just thought…"

"What?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I thought 'why not', really…" Yong Soo sighed.

"Look, finish that before we get in the car, whilst I take a quick look round the garden and pretend I didn't see anything, aru," he put the items on the counter next to a surprised Yong Soo. "Also, don't tell your mother, otherwise my career will end for letting minors access alcohol despite my greater authority."

"What is all this?" Yong Soo's eyes travelled across the box and diary.

"Items I found in Beilschmidt's room," Yao replied. "Fiddle with the numbers, I don't care, aru. If you accidentally crack the code, that only benefits us. Don't have a second beer."

"I won't," Yong replied forlornly as Yao left the room.

A key hanging near the door was a perfect fit for the backdoor. Yao turned it and heard the click as the lock slid out of place. Pushing open the door, he was met with a gust of cruel, icy wind. It was easy to forget how cold it was getting once enclosed in the comforts of a building. He stepped out, eyes scanning the grass for anything strange. The garden was just as one would expect. It was small but a little shed had been crammed into the corner, containing a mower, hedge clippers and a shovel. Although Yao's suspicions went towards the shovel, it hadn't been used in a while. It was also caked with mud, rather than blood. It seemed Beilschmidt wasn't so much the botanist as he was a cleaner. However, the mower had seen good usage and the grass was kept short. An empty washing line stretched from the house to the shed. A bird bath filled with clear water stood tall and proud to one side of the garden. That was it, as far as Yao could say.

He was about to retreat indoors when Yong Soo wandered out of the house, face pale and Gilbert Beilschmidt's house phone in his hand.

"What are you doing?" Yao hissed. "Why did you answer the phone?"

"Because it's Mei," Yong Soo extended the device towards him. "She wanted to speak to you."

Yao reached out a cautious hand and held the receiver to his ear. "Mei? How did you get this number?"

"That's not important," she said. "What is important is that you come to my house right now."

"What?" Yao swallowed. "What are you talking about? Mei? What's going on? Is everything OK?"

"Shush for a minute," she continued. "I need to tell you my address."

"Mei?" he clenched a jaw. "What's going on? Where are you?"

"I'm at home," she answered. "This is my address. Be ready to take it down."

He opened his mouth to protest as she relayed, in careful precision, the location of her house. Secretive Mei, suddenly calling and giving the details of a place she'd always seemed reluctant for anyone to see. Yao barely caught a single word, because he was too caught up on the idea that something wasn't right.

"Mei, what's going on, aru?" he demanded. "Tell me what's going on."

"It's fine, Yao," her voice had a calm, collected and strangely orderly manner to it. "We're at my house."

"We're?" he repeated numbly. "Who's with you?"

"Just come to my house," she repeated firmly. "Gilbert Beilschmidt wants to talk to you. See you soon."

For a moment, Yao's entire world seemed to freeze over. His body went rigid, but before he could say anything else, Mei disconnected the call. The wind was freezing his skin, but he had enough blood flowing through his body from the sheer terror the situation to keep him warm enough. For a moment, it seemed Yao had lost all grasp on his senses. He could feel Yong Soo's gaze on him, worried, but the phone was still held to his ear. Slowly, he lowered it, and was about to call back, when Yong shook his head.

"What?" Yao asked.

"If Mei's in danger, calling back isn't going to work," Yong warned. "Beilschmidt probably has control of the phone by now. Where is she?"

"Home," his mouth felt dry.

"Where is that?" Yong pulled a face.

"She told me to take it down, aru," Yao ran his hands through his hair. "I didn't take it down. What the Hell was I thinking? I should've taken it down, Yong?"

"Hey, don't worry," Yong soothed. "If we wait long enough, Beilschmidt might get her to call us back. For now, do you remember anything of what she said?"

"A little," he admitted. "I kind of know the area, but it's a huge place and she could be anywhere there. It could take us hours of looking."

"Let's get back to the car and start heading back to the city," Yong Soo reasoned. "What did she sound like? Scared? Was she crying?"

"No, she was perfectly fine," he followed Yong to the car, unlocking it as they moved. "She sounded fine, at least."

"Good enough for us," Yong Soo said as Yao got behind the wheel.

"Try calling her," he started up the Old Civic.

"But we just sa-"

"Just do it, aru," he ordered.

Timidly, Yong Soo called Mei's number and waited, anxiously tapping a foot on the floor. Yao whipped the car out from the driveway and sped down the road, eyes searching for cameras, yet pushing the edges of the speed limit.

"Not answering," Yong lowered the phone.

"Call again," he instructed.

"What?" Yong frowned. "Why?"

"Just do it, aru," he repeated.

"There's no point, Yao," his sidekick pleaded. "Mei won't answer."

"For my sake, Yong," he pleaded, stress pounding in his temples. "For my sake. Just in case she answers."

Hesitantly, Yong Soo recalled the number. Yao knew he shouldn't be acting so unprofessional, but he was alarmed by how Gilbert Beilschmidt had managed to get Mei's details, only to then enter her house. There was a pause. The silence was deafening, because the radio was switched off, leaving Yao's anxieties to hover, unattended, by his head.

"I'm sorry, Yao," Yong Soo sighed. "But she's not answering my calls."

"Where's my phone?" he demanded.

"It's right here," Yong held it up. "But she won't answer your calls, either. I told you; Beilschmidt's the one with the phone access."

"Give it," he held out a waiting hand, each of Yong Soo's words flying past his head.

With a sigh, the young man dropped the device into Yao's hand. Despite speeding along, he quickly glanced at the phone to see he had a missed call from Mei, and called her number. He had left his phone in the car, it seemed, and she had attempted to reach out to him. He held the phone to his ear, waiting, impatient. It rang several times, but never picked up. He could feel Yong watching him solemnly.

"What time is it?" Yao asked.

"Um," Yong Soo squinted at the car's time. "Ten to one. Roughly."

He sucked in a breath and muttered a brief apology before calling Kiku's number. There was a horrible moment where Yao believed his best friend wouldn't pick up the phone, when it rang once, twice, and then-

"Hello?" Kiku mumbled sleepily from the other side. "Yao?"

"Kiku, I'm in a bind, aru," he said desperately. "Mei's being held hostage, and I can't find her because I don't know her address. I've screwed up and I don't know what to do and I need your help."

"Wait, slow down," Kiku yawned. "What?"

"I can't," Yao grimaced. "I need to find Mei."

"Where are you?" his best friend asked, fatigue in his words.

"Car, road, heading back to town," Yao replied. "I've just been to Beilschmidt's house."

"And where is Mei?" he sounded oddly calm. Yao could only be grateful that those around him were keeping a level head over this. It was also frustrating, though, because he seemed to be the only one who was worried.

"Her house," he said. "Apparently."

"What's the problem?" Kiku sounded confused.

"Beilschmidt's holding Mei hostage in her own home," Yao bit his lip. "I can't find her because she's never let me know where she lives before. I don't know what to do."

"Did you call her back?" he yawned, but the click of him pushing his teeth together told Yao he was trying to stay awake.

"Yes; several times," Yao said. "She's not answering, aru."

"Her house, you say?" Kiku sniffed tiredly.

"Kiku, wake up," Yao pleaded. "Mei's life could depend on this."

"I'm sorry; I'm just gathering my head…" Kiku sounded a little bothered. "I know where she lives. I'll tell you."

"You know where she lives?" his brows furrowed. Somehow, he felt a little miffed that Mei had told Kiku, an acquaintance, over him, a colleague.

"Yes," he sighed. "Are you ready to take this down?"

"No, Yong will do it," he held the phone towards his sidekick. "Put the address down into your phone."

Yong Soo nodded and tapped something into his device. Yao focused on the road, more worried about what Mei was potentially going through whilst everyone else had left the premises. Why did Gilbert Beilschmidt want to talk to him? Should he call the police? As a licensed gun holder, Yao did have a weapon in this car.

"Done," Yong Soo held the phone towards him as his phone began calculating the route.

"Thanks, Kiku," Yao said. "And sorry for waking you."

"No, no, I understand," he sounded sad. "I hope Mei's OK…"

"Me, too," he said firmly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He disconnected the call and dropped his phone in Yong Soo's lap. There were still no other cars on the road. It would be two in the morning by the time they reached the city, and another half hour's drive meant they wouldn't reach Mei's house until later. His heart ached at the thought of her being held at knifepoint, gunpoint, any point by some murderous psychopath. It was bad enough that it was happening, but, in a sense, Mei had been his responsibility. He had drawn her back into this world without fully explaining the dangers and consequences of the actions of a detective. Exposed, she had been easily picked out by the killer. He hated to think Mei would be dead by the time they reached her house.

"Yong, I need you to open my glovebox," his voice had stopped trembling, and calm resolution had subdued him.

"Your glovebox?" Yong's fingers traced the latch. "You're going to shoot Beilschmidt?"

"Tonight will decide whether Beilschmidt is the killer or not," Yao said. "If he proves that he's a threat and precedes to threaten Mei and attempts a third murder, we'll know. We'll have suitable evidence to fire and subdue him, even if the measures we take include his inevitable death. Just pass me the gun, aru."

Yong Soo opened the glovebox and held the weapon in his hands.

"First, check if it has bullets," Yao ordered as his sidekick held it out to him.

He knew Yong Soo knew how to handle a gun. He could trust the young man with these kinds of things, so when Yong Soo opened the clip with ease, he was not surprised. Experience had taught him well.

"It's loaded," Yong Soo answered, closing it and handing it to him.

Yao's fingers curled round the firearm. It was cold in his grasp, and he dropped it into the pocket where it belonged. With newfound determination, Yao swept into the fast lane and notched the speed up to as much as legalities allowed.

A/N: Oh my! Will see this the end of the Musical Massacre!? Will Yao and Yong reach Mei in time, or are they too late? Find out next time, and I can assuredly tell you all that there will definitely be a next time! I'm definitely getting on track once more with my posting schedule, so thank you for the patience! Until next time!