FIC: You've dug your own Grave, now lie in it - Chapter Nine
For those of you following this fic who are not on my flist, here are chapters seven and eight. They were part of the advent drabblender, but are now unlocked and ready to be read by everyone who feels like it.
A big fat thanks to elvisvf101 who taught me a thing or two about my own characters and because of whom I now know what the word antediluvian means.
Chapter Nine
It was another cold morning, the ice was still celebrating its reign over the streets, and Mamoru and Noboru were sitting in front of their Chief, receiving the worst dressing down either of the men had experienced in the past three years.
They left the office after twenty minutes, almost shell-shocked by their superior's anger and insistence.
It was Noboru who spoke first.
"So he definitely wasn't happy about you still being involved in the investigation of the Missing Heart murders." The nickname was all over the press, some snarky editor had come up with it and now it stuck to the case like glue, even in the minds of the inspectors involved. Noboru had tried to resist for a few days, but then without noticing, he had slipped into using it and Mamoru had even stopped making a face whenever it was mentioned and accepted it in his usually quiet manner. What he obviously had a little more difficulty coming to terms with was the Chief insistence about the young inspector staying as far away from the investigation as possible. He had been assigned another case: grand theft auto somewhere in the city.
"There's an investigation going on about the death of my wife, and the Chief wants me to track down some rich investment banker's Bugatti." They reached the office and Mamoru slammed the door behind them, causing several of their colleagues in the hallway to look up in surprise. Usually, it was Noboru who was in the habit of slamming doors, not well-mannered Mamoru Chiba.
"You need to switch to decaf. Besides, we're still sharing an office, so you will be informed about everything that's going on. We just have to make sure that no-one knows about that, right?"
Disgruntled, Mamoru plopped down on his rickety chair. "Fine."
"And you can at least accompany me today, if you want to, the Chief won't mind that."
Snorting, Mamoru looked at this partner. "Why's that? He was quite clear on how he would fire both of us if he caught me working on the case with you."
Noboru scratched his neck, a gesture that screamed discomfort.
"It's Ami's and Makoto Kino's funeral today. And you have every right to be there."
Ami Mizuno was laid to rest on the same graveyard that already held the remains of Minako Aino. A large group of mourners had assembled, and the priest looked almost lost between all those people. The expensive oak wood casket was almost invisible under the large number of wreaths. Sunflowers, roses, lilies, and oddly enough even some daffodils - all decorated the grave to make it seem like something other than a brutally murdered girl's final resting place.
As far as funerals went, this one was certainly beautiful.
The two inspectors remained behind at a respectful distance, letting the mourners pass them by. The congregation was led by Ami's mother, who was leaning heavenly on Ikuko Tsukino. Neither of them were crying, and they carried their grief with a quiet dignity seldom seen. Looking at Mrs. Mizuno allowed the careful observer a glance into a future that would never be, Noboru thought. Ami and her mother had almost the same face, and now the dead girl would never grow up to notice it.
Next to him, Mamoru inclined his head in greeting when he saw his mother-in-law. Ikuko smiled tersely, and focused on Mrs. Mizuno again, knowing that Mamoru would understand her preoccupation.
Many people came to wish Ami well on her very last journey: friends, family, colleagues, patients, almost everyone was there. Even Usagi's old school friends Umino and Naru were there, and for a brief moment Noboru feared that Naru would make him another scene. But the brunette girl walked past him without sparing him a single look, and Noboru let out a deep breath which formed a small cloud of mist in the chilly air. It was probably wrong to feel relief at a funeral, but there was nothing he could do about that now. Instead, he looked around to see who had not made an appearance. Notably absent were only Ami's father, the reclusive painter, and Rei Hino, the mysterious woman, but then the latter might already be dead, Noboru thought grimly and rubbed his cold nose to warm it a little.
Two hours later, the two inspectors attended another funeral. The graveyard was older than the one they had been to earlier in the day. Some gravestones had already fallen prey to rough wind and cruel rain, making it impossible to read the names of those buried there. Far less people had come to pay Makoto Kino their last respect; no family at all, only colleagues and customers from the café in which she had worked. The grave was small, her casket simple, and there was only one wreath of pink roses, the white bow simply reading: You will be missed. Quietly, Noboru pulled out his little notebook and scratched a few words on the yellow pages before sliding it back into the pockets of his jacket. Mamoru had already made his way back to the car, but for some reason, Noboru felt himself quite unable to leave before the last mourner had left the graveyard. He was alone, as alone as he had been when everyone else had bolted from Makoto Kino's smelly bedroom and her decomposing corpse.
"You would have deserved so much more," he muttered. It was only when they were back in their office that he wondered why the woman's death had affected him so much more than that of Ami Mizuno, whom he had at least met before she died.
*
Hisaya Nigoshi's flat was still under surveillance, and even after three days, there was no sign of his return. His agency didn't know where he was, but said it was customary for their paparazzi not to check in until they had any pictures to sell. Noboru already knew that the only living family member was Nigoshi's grandmother, who was wasting away in a nursing home, no longer able to remember her own name, let alone her grandson's whereabouts. Haruka insisted on talking to the old woman regardless, and her usual bravado was crumbling when she returned to the police station.
"She doesn't know anything," she said while leaning against the door frame of Mamoru's and Noboru's office. Her own office was further down the hall, it was bigger, less cramped, but also empty and without any colleagues to talk to and there were moments when even a person as brash as Haruka Tenoh yearned for human contact.
Noboru nodded, for once not keen on a fight. His back was hurting like hell, so bad that he was seriously contemplating to ask Mamoru to put some antiseptic ointment on it and anyway, he wasn't the sort of person to kick people while they were down, and right now, Haruka definitely fit into this category. "Dementia?"
Brushing some imaginary flecks of dust from her leather jacket, she nodded. "Yes. Do you have any news?"
"No, I've been to funerals and spoke to a few people there, tried to see if our perp might show up or something like that, you know how the crazies sometimes do that."
"He didn't," Haruka said, not even bothering to raise her intonation to make it sound like a question.
"No, nothing."
"Where's Chiba?"
"Somewhere downtown, talking to used car dealers."
"Is he okay?" Irked, Noboru frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Do you really care?"
And just like that, their rare moment of peace was over. Turning on the spot, Haruka marched to her own office, slamming the door as she went.
*
Grand theft auto was nothing Mamoru cared about under the best circumstances, and right now, it was certainly not on his list of priorities at all. Still, he had to assuage the chief, so he did a first round of interviews with several car dealers, none of whom had heard of a red Bugatti that was currently being sold. They promised to call him when the offer came, and Mamoru felt he had done his share of crap work for the day. Ami's funeral still clung to his bones, a heaviness he couldn't shake or ban. Seeing Ikuko there had only made it worse: he owed solving this case to so many people, and yet they weren't moving forward at all. No sign of Kaitou Ace, no sign of Rei Hino, not even an appearance of the ghastly Hisaya Nigoshi.
Knowing that it was wrong, his fingers punched Setsuna's number (already memorised in such a short period of time) into his sleek phone and arranged to meet her at her flat. The drive over there did nothing to calm his racing mind, even though he drove far faster than the weather conditions suggested. It was still so cold that he had to turn the heating in his car on full blast, and even then he didn't feel warm. He arrived at Setsuna's home after fifteen minutes, finding a parking space just in front of the house, a small miracle in itself since he usually had to circle the block two to three times.
Setsuna's flat was in a dark and modern tower of glass and chrome right in the city centre, and to Mamoru, it always seemed as if the building reached up right into the sky to pierce heavy clouds cluttered around it. When he had visited her there for the first time, he was surprised to notice that her flat was far more spacious than Minako Aino's had been. It was decorated with several large pieces of modern art, wild shapes of bronze that made no sense whatsoever to Mamoru.
Knocking on her door, he stood a little straighter, and felt his heart beat accelerate. Unlike the other times he was waiting for her to let him in, it didn't feel good.
The door was opened, and he was met with Setsuna's customary intense gaze.
"Hello there." Her voice was already tuned for seduction, low and sweet. Dressed in a red skirt and a tight black shirt, she was once again oozing sex appeal. Her heavy perfume reached his nose, and Mamoru had to suppress a sneeze. Following her into the flat, he was surprised that she led him into a room he hadn't been to before: her kitchen. A small dining table was decorated with a red tablecloth, silver candle sticks, and some doubtlessly delicious food. It might have tempted another man on another day, but all it did was to remind him of the countless dinners Usagi had ruined because she was barely able to make some toast without burning it to ashes. His wife had been the world's worst cook, and still, Mamoru had loved sitting down with her to try the disastrous results of her cooking sessions.
It looked as if Setsuna hadn't ever ruined a dinner: the lasagne looked delicious and the smell was mouth-watering. Still, his voice was gruff, almost unfriendly when he spoke. "What's this?"
"Dinner. I made us some lasagne. Can you open the wine?" She gestured to a bottle on the counter, and even without closer assessment, Mamoru could tell that it was as expensive as it was old. Probably rare, too. What the fuck was he doing here?
"Setsuna..."
She smiled, and put a finger on his lips. "Don't. Let's just enjoy a nice dinner. It's not as if I'm asking you to marry me."
Without thinking, Mamoru answered, ostentatiously holding up his right hand with the wedding band on it. "Good, because as far as I'm concerned, I'm still married to Usagi."
She blanched at his words, clenching her fists by her side. "If you still feel that way, then what are you doing here?" Her voice was harsher than he had ever heard it, and it was not only the right, but also the only moment to leave.
"I was just asking myself the same thing." Glad that he hadn't shrugged off his jacket yet, Mamoru Chiba turned and walked out without looking back.
*
"Give in to me. You know you want to."
"I'd rather not," Noboru moaned and closed his eyes. "You're poison."
"And yet, here you are, in my bed, naked, offering yourself to me."
This time, Noboru didn't have a response. He felt her nails rake his back, dig into his skin like claws, and fought back a scream.
"Pet, you will beg for me before long. You can't be with me, you can't be without me. That's the beauty of the situation."
*
Mamoru wasn't sleeping, so the door bell didn't wake him. Peeling himself out of bed, he walked through the hall and peered through the spyhole before opening the door to a weary looking Noboru.
"Tell me it's not another body."
Noboru shook his head. "No, nothing like that."
They went into the kitchen, where Mamoru quietly began to prepare some coffee. It was four in the morning, and whatever had brought his partner here, they would need coffee. The bright kitchen lights hurt Mamoru's tired eyes, and he wished he could just go back to his bed and lie awake in the darkness for another hour or two.
"You have to do me a favour." Something in Noboru's voice was just plain wrong, and it took Mamoru a minute to realise that it was because it was completely devoid of emotion. Abandoning the coffee maker, Mamoru turned to find the other man stripping off his shirt to expose his chest. It looked horrible.
"What the fuck..."
Inching closer, he realised that the red welts were from fingernails, but they were nothing like those that he himself had found on his body after sleeping with Setsuna. Noboru looked positively mutilated. An angry pattern of blood and deep cuts zigzagged across the broad chest, and Mamoru had no doubt that the cuts would scar. Opening his mouth to ask what on earth had happened, he was abruptly silenced by Noboru.
"No questions. And this stays between us."
Shaking his head more to himself than to Noboru, Mamoru went into the bathroom to retrieve his first aid kit. He saw his partner's back when he returned to the kitchen, and it looked even worse than it had last time.
Voice heavy with disapproval, Mamoru sat down and began to dab a cotton ball with antiseptic ointment. "I'm not going to ask any questions, but tell your lady friend that if she keeps this up, you will need to get stitches." To emphasise his assessment, he carefully pressed the cotton ball against Noboru's torn skin.
"She's not my friend, and she's absolutely not a lady. And that fucking hurts."
"It's an open wound," Mamoru said simply and then the two men fell silent.
A big fat thanks to elvisvf101 who taught me a thing or two about my own characters and because of whom I now know what the word antediluvian means.
Chapter Nine
It was another cold morning, the ice was still celebrating its reign over the streets, and Mamoru and Noboru were sitting in front of their Chief, receiving the worst dressing down either of the men had experienced in the past three years.
They left the office after twenty minutes, almost shell-shocked by their superior's anger and insistence.
It was Noboru who spoke first.
"So he definitely wasn't happy about you still being involved in the investigation of the Missing Heart murders." The nickname was all over the press, some snarky editor had come up with it and now it stuck to the case like glue, even in the minds of the inspectors involved. Noboru had tried to resist for a few days, but then without noticing, he had slipped into using it and Mamoru had even stopped making a face whenever it was mentioned and accepted it in his usually quiet manner. What he obviously had a little more difficulty coming to terms with was the Chief insistence about the young inspector staying as far away from the investigation as possible. He had been assigned another case: grand theft auto somewhere in the city.
"There's an investigation going on about the death of my wife, and the Chief wants me to track down some rich investment banker's Bugatti." They reached the office and Mamoru slammed the door behind them, causing several of their colleagues in the hallway to look up in surprise. Usually, it was Noboru who was in the habit of slamming doors, not well-mannered Mamoru Chiba.
"You need to switch to decaf. Besides, we're still sharing an office, so you will be informed about everything that's going on. We just have to make sure that no-one knows about that, right?"
Disgruntled, Mamoru plopped down on his rickety chair. "Fine."
"And you can at least accompany me today, if you want to, the Chief won't mind that."
Snorting, Mamoru looked at this partner. "Why's that? He was quite clear on how he would fire both of us if he caught me working on the case with you."
Noboru scratched his neck, a gesture that screamed discomfort.
"It's Ami's and Makoto Kino's funeral today. And you have every right to be there."
Ami Mizuno was laid to rest on the same graveyard that already held the remains of Minako Aino. A large group of mourners had assembled, and the priest looked almost lost between all those people. The expensive oak wood casket was almost invisible under the large number of wreaths. Sunflowers, roses, lilies, and oddly enough even some daffodils - all decorated the grave to make it seem like something other than a brutally murdered girl's final resting place.
As far as funerals went, this one was certainly beautiful.
The two inspectors remained behind at a respectful distance, letting the mourners pass them by. The congregation was led by Ami's mother, who was leaning heavenly on Ikuko Tsukino. Neither of them were crying, and they carried their grief with a quiet dignity seldom seen. Looking at Mrs. Mizuno allowed the careful observer a glance into a future that would never be, Noboru thought. Ami and her mother had almost the same face, and now the dead girl would never grow up to notice it.
Next to him, Mamoru inclined his head in greeting when he saw his mother-in-law. Ikuko smiled tersely, and focused on Mrs. Mizuno again, knowing that Mamoru would understand her preoccupation.
Many people came to wish Ami well on her very last journey: friends, family, colleagues, patients, almost everyone was there. Even Usagi's old school friends Umino and Naru were there, and for a brief moment Noboru feared that Naru would make him another scene. But the brunette girl walked past him without sparing him a single look, and Noboru let out a deep breath which formed a small cloud of mist in the chilly air. It was probably wrong to feel relief at a funeral, but there was nothing he could do about that now. Instead, he looked around to see who had not made an appearance. Notably absent were only Ami's father, the reclusive painter, and Rei Hino, the mysterious woman, but then the latter might already be dead, Noboru thought grimly and rubbed his cold nose to warm it a little.
Two hours later, the two inspectors attended another funeral. The graveyard was older than the one they had been to earlier in the day. Some gravestones had already fallen prey to rough wind and cruel rain, making it impossible to read the names of those buried there. Far less people had come to pay Makoto Kino their last respect; no family at all, only colleagues and customers from the café in which she had worked. The grave was small, her casket simple, and there was only one wreath of pink roses, the white bow simply reading: You will be missed. Quietly, Noboru pulled out his little notebook and scratched a few words on the yellow pages before sliding it back into the pockets of his jacket. Mamoru had already made his way back to the car, but for some reason, Noboru felt himself quite unable to leave before the last mourner had left the graveyard. He was alone, as alone as he had been when everyone else had bolted from Makoto Kino's smelly bedroom and her decomposing corpse.
"You would have deserved so much more," he muttered. It was only when they were back in their office that he wondered why the woman's death had affected him so much more than that of Ami Mizuno, whom he had at least met before she died.
*
Hisaya Nigoshi's flat was still under surveillance, and even after three days, there was no sign of his return. His agency didn't know where he was, but said it was customary for their paparazzi not to check in until they had any pictures to sell. Noboru already knew that the only living family member was Nigoshi's grandmother, who was wasting away in a nursing home, no longer able to remember her own name, let alone her grandson's whereabouts. Haruka insisted on talking to the old woman regardless, and her usual bravado was crumbling when she returned to the police station.
"She doesn't know anything," she said while leaning against the door frame of Mamoru's and Noboru's office. Her own office was further down the hall, it was bigger, less cramped, but also empty and without any colleagues to talk to and there were moments when even a person as brash as Haruka Tenoh yearned for human contact.
Noboru nodded, for once not keen on a fight. His back was hurting like hell, so bad that he was seriously contemplating to ask Mamoru to put some antiseptic ointment on it and anyway, he wasn't the sort of person to kick people while they were down, and right now, Haruka definitely fit into this category. "Dementia?"
Brushing some imaginary flecks of dust from her leather jacket, she nodded. "Yes. Do you have any news?"
"No, I've been to funerals and spoke to a few people there, tried to see if our perp might show up or something like that, you know how the crazies sometimes do that."
"He didn't," Haruka said, not even bothering to raise her intonation to make it sound like a question.
"No, nothing."
"Where's Chiba?"
"Somewhere downtown, talking to used car dealers."
"Is he okay?" Irked, Noboru frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Do you really care?"
And just like that, their rare moment of peace was over. Turning on the spot, Haruka marched to her own office, slamming the door as she went.
*
Grand theft auto was nothing Mamoru cared about under the best circumstances, and right now, it was certainly not on his list of priorities at all. Still, he had to assuage the chief, so he did a first round of interviews with several car dealers, none of whom had heard of a red Bugatti that was currently being sold. They promised to call him when the offer came, and Mamoru felt he had done his share of crap work for the day. Ami's funeral still clung to his bones, a heaviness he couldn't shake or ban. Seeing Ikuko there had only made it worse: he owed solving this case to so many people, and yet they weren't moving forward at all. No sign of Kaitou Ace, no sign of Rei Hino, not even an appearance of the ghastly Hisaya Nigoshi.
Knowing that it was wrong, his fingers punched Setsuna's number (already memorised in such a short period of time) into his sleek phone and arranged to meet her at her flat. The drive over there did nothing to calm his racing mind, even though he drove far faster than the weather conditions suggested. It was still so cold that he had to turn the heating in his car on full blast, and even then he didn't feel warm. He arrived at Setsuna's home after fifteen minutes, finding a parking space just in front of the house, a small miracle in itself since he usually had to circle the block two to three times.
Setsuna's flat was in a dark and modern tower of glass and chrome right in the city centre, and to Mamoru, it always seemed as if the building reached up right into the sky to pierce heavy clouds cluttered around it. When he had visited her there for the first time, he was surprised to notice that her flat was far more spacious than Minako Aino's had been. It was decorated with several large pieces of modern art, wild shapes of bronze that made no sense whatsoever to Mamoru.
Knocking on her door, he stood a little straighter, and felt his heart beat accelerate. Unlike the other times he was waiting for her to let him in, it didn't feel good.
The door was opened, and he was met with Setsuna's customary intense gaze.
"Hello there." Her voice was already tuned for seduction, low and sweet. Dressed in a red skirt and a tight black shirt, she was once again oozing sex appeal. Her heavy perfume reached his nose, and Mamoru had to suppress a sneeze. Following her into the flat, he was surprised that she led him into a room he hadn't been to before: her kitchen. A small dining table was decorated with a red tablecloth, silver candle sticks, and some doubtlessly delicious food. It might have tempted another man on another day, but all it did was to remind him of the countless dinners Usagi had ruined because she was barely able to make some toast without burning it to ashes. His wife had been the world's worst cook, and still, Mamoru had loved sitting down with her to try the disastrous results of her cooking sessions.
It looked as if Setsuna hadn't ever ruined a dinner: the lasagne looked delicious and the smell was mouth-watering. Still, his voice was gruff, almost unfriendly when he spoke. "What's this?"
"Dinner. I made us some lasagne. Can you open the wine?" She gestured to a bottle on the counter, and even without closer assessment, Mamoru could tell that it was as expensive as it was old. Probably rare, too. What the fuck was he doing here?
"Setsuna..."
She smiled, and put a finger on his lips. "Don't. Let's just enjoy a nice dinner. It's not as if I'm asking you to marry me."
Without thinking, Mamoru answered, ostentatiously holding up his right hand with the wedding band on it. "Good, because as far as I'm concerned, I'm still married to Usagi."
She blanched at his words, clenching her fists by her side. "If you still feel that way, then what are you doing here?" Her voice was harsher than he had ever heard it, and it was not only the right, but also the only moment to leave.
"I was just asking myself the same thing." Glad that he hadn't shrugged off his jacket yet, Mamoru Chiba turned and walked out without looking back.
*
"Give in to me. You know you want to."
"I'd rather not," Noboru moaned and closed his eyes. "You're poison."
"And yet, here you are, in my bed, naked, offering yourself to me."
This time, Noboru didn't have a response. He felt her nails rake his back, dig into his skin like claws, and fought back a scream.
"Pet, you will beg for me before long. You can't be with me, you can't be without me. That's the beauty of the situation."
*
Mamoru wasn't sleeping, so the door bell didn't wake him. Peeling himself out of bed, he walked through the hall and peered through the spyhole before opening the door to a weary looking Noboru.
"Tell me it's not another body."
Noboru shook his head. "No, nothing like that."
They went into the kitchen, where Mamoru quietly began to prepare some coffee. It was four in the morning, and whatever had brought his partner here, they would need coffee. The bright kitchen lights hurt Mamoru's tired eyes, and he wished he could just go back to his bed and lie awake in the darkness for another hour or two.
"You have to do me a favour." Something in Noboru's voice was just plain wrong, and it took Mamoru a minute to realise that it was because it was completely devoid of emotion. Abandoning the coffee maker, Mamoru turned to find the other man stripping off his shirt to expose his chest. It looked horrible.
"What the fuck..."
Inching closer, he realised that the red welts were from fingernails, but they were nothing like those that he himself had found on his body after sleeping with Setsuna. Noboru looked positively mutilated. An angry pattern of blood and deep cuts zigzagged across the broad chest, and Mamoru had no doubt that the cuts would scar. Opening his mouth to ask what on earth had happened, he was abruptly silenced by Noboru.
"No questions. And this stays between us."
Shaking his head more to himself than to Noboru, Mamoru went into the bathroom to retrieve his first aid kit. He saw his partner's back when he returned to the kitchen, and it looked even worse than it had last time.
Voice heavy with disapproval, Mamoru sat down and began to dab a cotton ball with antiseptic ointment. "I'm not going to ask any questions, but tell your lady friend that if she keeps this up, you will need to get stitches." To emphasise his assessment, he carefully pressed the cotton ball against Noboru's torn skin.
"She's not my friend, and she's absolutely not a lady. And that fucking hurts."
"It's an open wound," Mamoru said simply and then the two men fell silent.