In the Red, chapter 3, part 1
A/N: Big thanks to my super hero editor in chief gwoman for her help in making it clear what's supposed to be going on in this story. Also, belated happy birthday wishes to the beautiful spikykun and the wonderful metallic_efekt. I also noticed that this is the first time I've written a chapter so long that I've needed to split it into parts...I don't know if that's good or bad. XD
Summary: AU, from the case files of Ichigo Kurosaki, P.I. If I had to summarize the last few days, I'd recommend not taking on cases from people you've previously considered enemies, staying away from shady characters who can get shadier information and women who seem to be able to read your mind, and avoiding getting involved in old feuds. But, hey, this is how I get paid. I do recommend saying yes when the right person asks you if you're on the menu, though... NOTE: This story takes place after Seeing Red (Part 1 and Part 2), and builds on it.
Warnings: Bad language, references to unlawful activities (including human slavery), badly punctuated texts, dirty talkin', explicit good sex (yaoi), dirty thoughts, fluffy thoughts, exhibitionism, requests for sexual favors
Usual disclaimers: I don't own these characters and don't make any money for these writings; I'm just creating these stories to entertain myself and (hopefully) you.
The people in this story are fictional, and so you might see them doing things that aren't strictly safe from a sexual standpoint. You are a real person, so please be safe when you play! If you want more information about how that all works, please click here, or here...there are plenty of other sites with good info on the web, too, so check them out and be safe.
All of the people depicted (or referred to) in sexual situations in my stories are intended to be and considered to be by the author of the legal age of consent in any jurisdiction, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from. OK?
_________________________________________________________________
Missed Chapter 2? Click here.
“I have to admit, I am wondering what you think you can say to convince me to work for you,” I said as I bent my cigarette to my lighter, then snapped the lighter closed.
We hadn't really started talking since the waiter had come in close on the heels of my two surprise dining companions, so we'd quickly ordered some lunch just in time for my coffee and ashtray to arrive. Byakuya had given me a disapproving look as I'd lit up, a look I'm sure struck fear in the hearts of his employees, to which I couldn't help answering with a smirk. He let out a little sigh, as if telling himself that this was his punishment for being forced to deal with mere mortals, and handed me a file folder.
“This is some of the confidential information that we requested the police share with us about Infinium Logistics,” Byakuya began in a low, confident tone. He had a good voice. Under other circumstances I'd have said he had sort of a sexy voice, but considering everything that had happened so far I was way too pissed to be able to appreciate it.
I flipped the file folder open as I put sugar in my coffee. There’d been a history of complaints against the logistics company in the past five years or so, but none of the follow ups had been brought to closure. At a rough count, it seemed that the majority of complaints were for human trafficking. The couple of reports that existed were fairly detailed accounts of people who'd managed to escape but previous to that had been forced into laboring for shady companies for little pay in a form of indentured servitude that (not surprisingly) was never paid off, or a more overt servitude as prostitutes. According to those few who had managed to get away, the usual way out of this arrangement was death. Since none of the complaints had ever been brought to trial, due to the complainants disappearing, my guess was that even if you could escape, it was unlikely you'd live anyway.
I closed my eyes for a moment as I took the first sip of coffee, because it was good - a rich roast that I'd somehow managed to add just the right amount of sugar to. After a moment I went on reading and found some reports about the transport and distribution of illegal guns and drugs, which I figured pretty much rounded out the sorts of things people usually wanted to break the law to get and were willing to pay high prices for. None of these reports had ever come to any sort of prosecutable offense either, since any evidence or witnesses inevitably seemed to disappear before anything could come to trial. I stirred my coffee and took a sip as I pushed the folder back across the table at Kuchiki.
“They seem like some really nasty customers. Good luck with them,” I said evenly.
We were interrupted momentarily as the waiter arrived with food, some sort of stir-fry for Byakuya, a big steak for Kenpachi, and a sandwich for me. I rolled my eyes as I watched Kenpachi start to inhale his steak, to which he just replied with a toothy grin.
“So, you're not at all interested?” Byakuya asked after a few minutes. I noted his eyes narrowing in his annoyance before he continued. “This could be one of the biggest cases you've ever taken on, and perhaps the one with the most successful outcome.”
I sighed before I took another drag of my cigarette and put it out. “Look, Byakuya,” I replied, trying not to grin at his frown as I used his first name, “taking out a company associated with organized crime really isn't in my job description. The police, local and national, are usually pretty good at that, even though it can take them a long time to do it. What I do is different, and I do it because there's no one else who will. Currently, there's nothing in place to protect the average person from greedy corporations who take advantage of them and then throw them away like used tissues.”
I stopped for a moment then, staring at him so he knew who I was referring to and waiting for him to try to argue with what I'd said, or maybe get defensive, but instead he finished the bite he was eating and said nothing for a few seconds, just fixed me with now steely grey eyes before he spoke again.
“That's not what I'm here to talk about, Kurosaki. Regardless of how you feel about me or my company, I'm prepared to offer you four times your normal rate to work on this case due to the danger involved. For obvious reasons, I don't want to reveal that I've hired you, and I assume you wouldn't want to admit you're working for me, so part of that would be for your discretion, as well.”
“If I decide to work for you,” I corrected him, my eyes narrowing now. “I still haven't heard any real reason to take the job on.”
He raised an aristocratic-looking eyebrow. “So earning a decent rate doesn't tempt you? From the research I've seen, it seems your rates are considerably lower than some of the big investigation firms downtown.”
I shot him a look as I finished chewing; the sandwich had looked really good on the plate, but due to the company I was keeping, I couldn't really taste it properly. “Look, Byakuya, what are you trying to get at? Yeah, my office is on the bad side of town, and my overhead is a lot lower than the overpriced rent-a-cops I'm sure you've talked to, which is one of the reasons I can go cheaper, but now I'm starting to wonder why we're talking. Did you go to a few of them first and get turned down because no one wanted to take on this crazy job?”
Just the way his eyes slid away from mine almost confirmed my guess. I looked over at Kenpachi, who seemed to be trying very hard to keep his gaze neutral. “Whatever,” I finally continued, shaking my head. “That's not really important, I guess. The main thing I should be telling you here is that I didn't get into the work I do because I thought it was a get-rich-quick scheme. I got into it because there's a desperate need for it, and I keep in business because that need seems to grow daily. You can't buy me off, Byakuya. Believe me, it's been tried.”
I worked on my sandwich a little more as I watched his reaction to what I'd said. He was obviously trying to keep his expression in check, but I saw a look flicker across his face as if he'd bitten into something particularly distasteful. Finally, he looked back at me and sighed before saying, “All right then, if that's the way you feel about it, I'll stop wasting my time.”
As he made to get up, however, I felt as if something heavy had sunk into my gut as an awful thought came to mind. “Wait,” I said, a bit more loudly than I'd intended, and Byakuya turned in my direction, grey eyes flat but an eyebrow quirked as if to ask what I wanted. “When Kenpachi came to talk to me about your case the other day, he mentioned that you'd basically had your life threatened by your prospective buyer from Infinium, but there was one thing he didn't talk about. Did that threat include your new wife?”
I couldn't properly see the look that Byakuya shot at Kenpachi, but it apparently had enough force behind it that Kenpachi raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Hey, don't look at me,” he replied, raising a hand. “Like Kurosaki said, I didn't say anything about her.”
“I see no reason to talk with you about this,” Byakuya finally answered me, the expression he turned to me full of cold fury.
Shrugging, I continued. “That's your business, of course, but this is the first thing that’s actually given me any interest in the case. If you don't want to tell me, though, I guess you'd better go.”
He fixed me with a look that seemed a little too cultured to be a glare, but after a long moment he did sit back down. When he spoke, his only word was, “Yes.”
It took me a few seconds to realize that he was answering my earlier question, and when I did I couldn't stop myself from swearing under my breath. I pulled my notebook from the bag I'd slung on the back of my chair and asked Byakuya, “Could you tell me, as far as you remember it, exactly what he said?”
“He said that it was too bad that my wife and I had no heirs, because if anything were to happen to us, the only other Kuchikis are fairly elderly and would probably have a much different opinion about selling the company than I did.” His voice was even as he repeated the statement, but when I glanced at him as I jotted down what he'd said, I noticed his clenched fist on the table.
The tip of my pencil had almost poked through the paper by the time I belatedly realized that I’d been boring a hole in my notebook. I certainly hadn't come here with the intention of taking this job, but now I didn't see how I could refuse it. If anything happened to Rukia and Renji found out that I'd been in a position to take action to protect her, it was a sure bet he'd dump my ass and then probably try to beat me up on top of it, neither being things I’d want to have happen.
“All right,” I finally replied, meeting Byakuya's eye, “I'll take the job on under the terms you outlined earlier, along with the following additions. First, although I’ll never mention that I worked for you, I reserve the right to talk about the case itself. Also, I want to point out in particular that my rate is hourly plus expenses. Before I take the case on, I need your guarantee that you're good for the money.”
Byakuya raised both eyebrows and looked over at me with incredulity. I shook my head and continued. “It's like this, Byakuya. The information you need is out there, somewhere. If we had unlimited time, or at least more than we do currently, I could likely get it for you myself. But since this is a rush job, I'm going to have to deal with some people who can get the information you need quickly. As a result, it's going to cost money, maybe a lot of money.”
Byakuya's brows furrowed and he said, “Kurosaki, if you thought you could take this job to try to cheat me-”
“Don't be ridiculous,” I nearly barked, knowing I was scowling at the man again. “All right, since you obviously didn't get it the first time, let me spell out what’s going to happen more plainly. The people I'm going to need to deal with in order to get the information you need aren't the kind of folks who have offices downtown, and they're not the type of people you're used to dealing with. Their invoices, which I'll pass along to you, aren't likely to be detailed, but in order to actually get what you need I'm going to tell them that you'll pay what they ask. Do you understand what I'm getting at now?”
“I understand, and I agree. If anything looks out of line, however, you can be sure I'll question it,” Byakuya replied, but I thought I could still see some doubt in his eye.
I sighed before I spoke again. “Just to put your mind at ease as to why I decided to take this job, I have a request for the bonus that Kenpachi mentioned, if I'm able to get the recorded evidence you requested.”
“Of course,” Byakuya replied smoothly. “I'll pay-”
“That's not what I want,” I interrupted, waiting until he fell silent before I continued. “I want an hour's meeting with Rukia, just me and one other person of my choosing. Nothing bad will happen to her, and that maniac,” I said, nodding my head across the table at Kenpachi, “can come along to make sure of that. Not you, though.”
Now he really was glaring at me, but somehow he managed to do it in a way that still looked refined. I swear I'm going to have to get lessons from him one day. I just watched him, and I could see that he wanted to tell me to go to hell. He glanced at Kenpachi, who was no help and still grinning at having been called a maniac. Byakuya looked back in my direction reluctantly, and I almost found myself feeling sorry for the guy. It was clear from his expression that he desperately wanted to disdainfully reject me entirely and leave, but I knew what was stopping him, because I could see that too. It was a look I'd spotted in a number of my clients’ eyes as they came through my door because they knew no one else would help them. I didn't feel too sorry for Byakuya, though, because he was still annoyed, probably because he was used to being able to buy or otherwise use his influence to get out of problems he found himself involved in. In contrast, most of my clients were at the end of their ropes by the time they came to see me, since their more limited means gave them fewer options.
“All right,” Byakuya finally said, his mouth barely moving he was so tight-lipped. “But if anything at all happens to her, you are going to regret the day you ever met me.”
“I'm already regretting it,” I murmured, trying not to pitch my voice so that anyone else could hear it, because I couldn't stop the damned comment from coming out of my mouth. I noticed Byakuya cast me an incredulous glance, however, so I tried to cover my previous words with something new. “OK, agreed. I'll write up one of my standard contracts along with the changes we discussed and have it sent over to your office by tomorrow morning, and I'll make sure nothing on the outside of the package notes my identity, my work, or my work address. Do what you need to do to get it back to me by the following morning, along with a check for my retainer, so that I can get on this case for you.”
He nodded just barely to signify he'd heard, and I found myself letting out a small sigh along with tension draining out of my shoulders I hadn't realized was there. It's done now, might as well go forward with the case, I found myself thinking. “All right, Byakuya,” I said, turning to the next page in my notebook, “start from the beginning and let's go through the story again. Kenpachi did give me a summary of what happened, but I want you to tell me all of the details you remember, no matter how insignificant you think they might be. Please don't hold anything back, and don't leave out things even if you feel like you don't want to talk about them.”
My look at him was a challenge, but he gazed right back at me. “How long should this take?”
“As long as it takes for you to go carefully through all the facts so that I know everything you know, and then give me a way to contact you, preferably at any time.” I paused as he slipped a card to me across the table. As I picked it up I noted that it was an old-fashioned heavy cream card stock with an embossed border that had simply a telephone number printed on it.
“That's my personal number,” Byakuya said. “You can reach me there at any time, but please don't call without good reason.”
I bit my cheek so that I didn't roll my eyes. Believe me, I wouldn't be calling a dead fish like you without good reason was the first thought that came to mind, but I somehow reined my thoughts back to business.
“Thanks,” I replied as I scrawled on a corner of my notebook, then tore the piece off and handed it to Byakuya. “That's my cell phone number. I have it on me at all times, so please call if something relevant to the case comes up.” I let out a little laugh at his raised eyebrow and continued. “I'd give you my business card, but I imagine that would be harder to explain if someone found it than a mysterious phone number on a piece of paper.”
He took the slip of paper then and put it in the pocket he'd taken the card out of. “Now then,” I said, “could you start by letting me know who from Infinium came by to make you this offer?”
“He said his name was Sosuke Aizen,” Byakuya replied, his eyes narrowing.
I'm sure mine widened as I considered the fact that Aizen hadn't entrusted the job of approaching Kuchiki to any of his subordinates, opting to do it himself. “I take it you know that he's the President and CEO of the company,” I said, flipping my notes back a couple of pages to verify my memory.
Byakuya rolled his eyes. “Yes, he took care to mention that prominently.”
I was probably only half-listening to what he said in response, however, because just below Aizen's name I spotted the name of the CIO, and suddenly my previously absent memory kicked in just as I looked back up at Byakuya. The CIO had worked for his company before, I recalled, vaguely remembering a local business magazine's account of some spat he’d had with one of Byakuya's higher-ups before he left Kuchiki Industries.
“Have you looked into the rest of their upper management?” I asked quickly, and suddenly my heart was beating double-time, the way it always does when I know I've just caught hold of a thread that might help to unravel a difficult case.
“Yes,” he said, his voice tight, and he looked over at me quickly, as if trying to figure out how much I knew about what I was asking.
“So you know that their CIO, their head computer person, used to work for your company?” A look at his now impassive face confirmed that question. “If that's the case, are you going to be upgrading your computer network soon?”
He nodded in reply. “It's already in progress.”
“Good. Has your current phone ever been attached to your work network?” I asked, almost sure I knew what the answer was there. When he only grimaced in reply, I continued, “Well, there are lots of nice new models out there right now. I'd advise you not to call me until you get a new one.”
He nodded unwillingly and then started recounting the story Kenpachi had summarized for me, after asking the other man to call Rukia and notify her to cancel his after-lunch meetings. To Kenpachi's credit, I ended up with some more notes, but I didn't have anything new that I'd consider significant. After reminding Byakuya to call me should anything new and relevant to the case occur, we parted ways.
It was a bit after 2:30 by the time I got back to the office. The first thing I did once I got there was to take one of my standard contracts and add everything that Byakuya and I had discussed. It took about an hour before I got it into a shape I was happy with, but once I did, I went to the nearest place I could ship it by FedEx and sent it to arrive early the next morning. For my return address, I left no name and used a P.O. box number that I'd rented years ago when I was a poor student living in a group house where the mail was known for disappearing.
I realized the day was drawing to a close as I walked back to my office, but I knew there was at least one more thing I could try to get done. I held my cigarette tightly in my lips as a brisk breeze blew past, and as I fumbled in the pocket of my overcoat for my cell phone, I found myself thinking that it was too late in the autumn for me to be wearing a jacket this light. I put my other hand in my pocket for a moment as the phone rang and I listened hopefully for a response.
“Urahara Shop, how may I help you?” an oily voice finally said as the phone was answered.
“It's Ichigo Kurosaki,” I replied. “I have a rush job for Yoruichi and Ururu. There's some information a client needs as soon as possible, and they definitely have the means to pay.”
“Ah, Mr. Kurosaki,” he responded, and something in his tone made me feel like he'd been expecting my call. “I'll contact Yoruichi tonight and let her know about your request. I'm afraid I don't think I'll be getting back to you until tomorrow, but I'll be sure to call bright and early to let you know what she says.”
I should have known better than to think she might be available on short notice, I told my inner optimist. “All right. I'll be waiting for your call, Urahara.”
“Certainly. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Mr. Kurosaki.”
I'll be waiting for your call because this investigation is probably dead in the water without her, I found myself morosely considering. I mean, sure, I could poke around or I could go undercover, maybe do a combination of the two. Eventually I'd turn up some answers, but those methods took time, which was something that was in short supply in this case. Hell, for all I knew I was already too late.
I flicked the burnt-down stub of my cigarette away and lit another one, telling myself that I shouldn't even worry about that at this point. Fortunately, my cell phone beeped in my pocket to distract me and I found a text message from Renji.
“Goin out w Shu after wk. Wont be by tonite.”
I wasn't much of a text sender usually, but I managed to return with, “Dont drink so much you cant ink tomorrow.”
“Fuck you,” he replied, which just made me laugh.
“That a promise?”
I swore I could see him smile when he got that one. “Yeah. See ya tomorrow.”
Fuck, I thought as I rounded the corner to my office. I realized now that the whole evening stretched out before me, but I couldn’t think of much worthwhile to do to fill it. Now that it was official, I found myself burning to get going on the case, but it was pretty much the end of the business day and I had no real leads that I could follow up on. If Renji’d been coming by I could have distracted myself easily until Urahara’s call tomorrow morning, but now…
I headed the rest of the way back home and grabbed my laptop and brought it upstairs so that I could type up my notes while I made dinner and ate. People always ask why I do that, when I’m rarely without my notebook, but this way I have a backup in case anything happens to my notebook, or to me. Unfortunately, neither typing nor dinner took very long, so I was back to staring at the walls.
Shaking my head at my restlessness, I threw myself into cleaning up the apartment (something I usually put off until even I can no longer deny it needs to be done), even going so far as to start some laundry, but the place was too small to occupy me for long. Finally, I changed into something more appropriate for a workout and headed out to where I thought Tatsuki would be teaching that day. As it turned out, I had guessed wrong, but her father, who was teaching that particular class, insisted that I stay as he called her.
“It's her day off,” he explained, “but she'd never forgive me if she heard that I turned you away. You are her favorite sparring partner, Ichigo.”
For some reason, I felt inordinately pleased at that. “Thank you, sir.”
He just smiled and made some tea which I drank as I waited. Tatsuki arrived not long after, and the smirk on her face when I saw her made me squirm a little. “You're in over your head, aren't you?” she asked, once we were alone and facing off in the middle of the empty martial arts studio, her words echoing slightly off the mirrors and bare wood floor. “That's the only reason you ever show up here more than once a week.”
My heart jumped once, as if guilty. “Yeah, I guess maybe I am,” I replied, thinking about all of the events of the past few days.
“Well, don't fuck it up and push him away this time,” she replied, and I could see her squaring her posture, getting ready to fight. “You have a habit of doing that, you know.”
To my mortification, I could feel my face heat up. “That's not what I meant!” I replied hotly, belatedly remembering that she'd met Renji a couple of months ago, at a party Chad's band had thrown when they'd recorded a new album.
“Sure, Ichigo,” she said, her smile positively wicked now as she closed in for her attack.
The whole thing had thrown me off enough that she pretty easily defeated me a number of times that evening. My whole body ached as I reached for my cell phone that morning, squinting against the early morning light as I did. “Kurosaki here,” I replied, having trained myself to answer coherently night or day since this was my main business number.
“Ah, Mr. Kurosaki,” Urahara's familiar smooth voice replied, and I blinked quickly as I looked at the alarm clock not far away. Trying not to curse under my breath, I got up out of bed with as much haste as I could manage, realizing that I must have forgotten to set the alarm the previous night, since it was already 9AM. “I spoke to Ms. Yoruichi yesterday evening, and she's agreed to see you today. Can you be here by 10 this morning?” he asked.
I looked at myself in the mirror a little angrily as I replied. “Yes, I'll be there. Thanks, Urahara.”
“It's my pleasure, Mr. Kurosaki.”
Click here for Chapter 3, part 2
Summary: AU, from the case files of Ichigo Kurosaki, P.I. If I had to summarize the last few days, I'd recommend not taking on cases from people you've previously considered enemies, staying away from shady characters who can get shadier information and women who seem to be able to read your mind, and avoiding getting involved in old feuds. But, hey, this is how I get paid. I do recommend saying yes when the right person asks you if you're on the menu, though... NOTE: This story takes place after Seeing Red (Part 1 and Part 2), and builds on it.
Warnings: Bad language, references to unlawful activities (including human slavery), badly punctuated texts, dirty talkin', explicit good sex (yaoi), dirty thoughts, fluffy thoughts, exhibitionism, requests for sexual favors
Usual disclaimers: I don't own these characters and don't make any money for these writings; I'm just creating these stories to entertain myself and (hopefully) you.
The people in this story are fictional, and so you might see them doing things that aren't strictly safe from a sexual standpoint. You are a real person, so please be safe when you play! If you want more information about how that all works, please click here, or here...there are plenty of other sites with good info on the web, too, so check them out and be safe.
All of the people depicted (or referred to) in sexual situations in my stories are intended to be and considered to be by the author of the legal age of consent in any jurisdiction, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from. OK?
_________________________________________________________________
Missed Chapter 2? Click here.
“I have to admit, I am wondering what you think you can say to convince me to work for you,” I said as I bent my cigarette to my lighter, then snapped the lighter closed.
We hadn't really started talking since the waiter had come in close on the heels of my two surprise dining companions, so we'd quickly ordered some lunch just in time for my coffee and ashtray to arrive. Byakuya had given me a disapproving look as I'd lit up, a look I'm sure struck fear in the hearts of his employees, to which I couldn't help answering with a smirk. He let out a little sigh, as if telling himself that this was his punishment for being forced to deal with mere mortals, and handed me a file folder.
“This is some of the confidential information that we requested the police share with us about Infinium Logistics,” Byakuya began in a low, confident tone. He had a good voice. Under other circumstances I'd have said he had sort of a sexy voice, but considering everything that had happened so far I was way too pissed to be able to appreciate it.
I flipped the file folder open as I put sugar in my coffee. There’d been a history of complaints against the logistics company in the past five years or so, but none of the follow ups had been brought to closure. At a rough count, it seemed that the majority of complaints were for human trafficking. The couple of reports that existed were fairly detailed accounts of people who'd managed to escape but previous to that had been forced into laboring for shady companies for little pay in a form of indentured servitude that (not surprisingly) was never paid off, or a more overt servitude as prostitutes. According to those few who had managed to get away, the usual way out of this arrangement was death. Since none of the complaints had ever been brought to trial, due to the complainants disappearing, my guess was that even if you could escape, it was unlikely you'd live anyway.
I closed my eyes for a moment as I took the first sip of coffee, because it was good - a rich roast that I'd somehow managed to add just the right amount of sugar to. After a moment I went on reading and found some reports about the transport and distribution of illegal guns and drugs, which I figured pretty much rounded out the sorts of things people usually wanted to break the law to get and were willing to pay high prices for. None of these reports had ever come to any sort of prosecutable offense either, since any evidence or witnesses inevitably seemed to disappear before anything could come to trial. I stirred my coffee and took a sip as I pushed the folder back across the table at Kuchiki.
“They seem like some really nasty customers. Good luck with them,” I said evenly.
We were interrupted momentarily as the waiter arrived with food, some sort of stir-fry for Byakuya, a big steak for Kenpachi, and a sandwich for me. I rolled my eyes as I watched Kenpachi start to inhale his steak, to which he just replied with a toothy grin.
“So, you're not at all interested?” Byakuya asked after a few minutes. I noted his eyes narrowing in his annoyance before he continued. “This could be one of the biggest cases you've ever taken on, and perhaps the one with the most successful outcome.”
I sighed before I took another drag of my cigarette and put it out. “Look, Byakuya,” I replied, trying not to grin at his frown as I used his first name, “taking out a company associated with organized crime really isn't in my job description. The police, local and national, are usually pretty good at that, even though it can take them a long time to do it. What I do is different, and I do it because there's no one else who will. Currently, there's nothing in place to protect the average person from greedy corporations who take advantage of them and then throw them away like used tissues.”
I stopped for a moment then, staring at him so he knew who I was referring to and waiting for him to try to argue with what I'd said, or maybe get defensive, but instead he finished the bite he was eating and said nothing for a few seconds, just fixed me with now steely grey eyes before he spoke again.
“That's not what I'm here to talk about, Kurosaki. Regardless of how you feel about me or my company, I'm prepared to offer you four times your normal rate to work on this case due to the danger involved. For obvious reasons, I don't want to reveal that I've hired you, and I assume you wouldn't want to admit you're working for me, so part of that would be for your discretion, as well.”
“If I decide to work for you,” I corrected him, my eyes narrowing now. “I still haven't heard any real reason to take the job on.”
He raised an aristocratic-looking eyebrow. “So earning a decent rate doesn't tempt you? From the research I've seen, it seems your rates are considerably lower than some of the big investigation firms downtown.”
I shot him a look as I finished chewing; the sandwich had looked really good on the plate, but due to the company I was keeping, I couldn't really taste it properly. “Look, Byakuya, what are you trying to get at? Yeah, my office is on the bad side of town, and my overhead is a lot lower than the overpriced rent-a-cops I'm sure you've talked to, which is one of the reasons I can go cheaper, but now I'm starting to wonder why we're talking. Did you go to a few of them first and get turned down because no one wanted to take on this crazy job?”
Just the way his eyes slid away from mine almost confirmed my guess. I looked over at Kenpachi, who seemed to be trying very hard to keep his gaze neutral. “Whatever,” I finally continued, shaking my head. “That's not really important, I guess. The main thing I should be telling you here is that I didn't get into the work I do because I thought it was a get-rich-quick scheme. I got into it because there's a desperate need for it, and I keep in business because that need seems to grow daily. You can't buy me off, Byakuya. Believe me, it's been tried.”
I worked on my sandwich a little more as I watched his reaction to what I'd said. He was obviously trying to keep his expression in check, but I saw a look flicker across his face as if he'd bitten into something particularly distasteful. Finally, he looked back at me and sighed before saying, “All right then, if that's the way you feel about it, I'll stop wasting my time.”
As he made to get up, however, I felt as if something heavy had sunk into my gut as an awful thought came to mind. “Wait,” I said, a bit more loudly than I'd intended, and Byakuya turned in my direction, grey eyes flat but an eyebrow quirked as if to ask what I wanted. “When Kenpachi came to talk to me about your case the other day, he mentioned that you'd basically had your life threatened by your prospective buyer from Infinium, but there was one thing he didn't talk about. Did that threat include your new wife?”
I couldn't properly see the look that Byakuya shot at Kenpachi, but it apparently had enough force behind it that Kenpachi raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Hey, don't look at me,” he replied, raising a hand. “Like Kurosaki said, I didn't say anything about her.”
“I see no reason to talk with you about this,” Byakuya finally answered me, the expression he turned to me full of cold fury.
Shrugging, I continued. “That's your business, of course, but this is the first thing that’s actually given me any interest in the case. If you don't want to tell me, though, I guess you'd better go.”
He fixed me with a look that seemed a little too cultured to be a glare, but after a long moment he did sit back down. When he spoke, his only word was, “Yes.”
It took me a few seconds to realize that he was answering my earlier question, and when I did I couldn't stop myself from swearing under my breath. I pulled my notebook from the bag I'd slung on the back of my chair and asked Byakuya, “Could you tell me, as far as you remember it, exactly what he said?”
“He said that it was too bad that my wife and I had no heirs, because if anything were to happen to us, the only other Kuchikis are fairly elderly and would probably have a much different opinion about selling the company than I did.” His voice was even as he repeated the statement, but when I glanced at him as I jotted down what he'd said, I noticed his clenched fist on the table.
The tip of my pencil had almost poked through the paper by the time I belatedly realized that I’d been boring a hole in my notebook. I certainly hadn't come here with the intention of taking this job, but now I didn't see how I could refuse it. If anything happened to Rukia and Renji found out that I'd been in a position to take action to protect her, it was a sure bet he'd dump my ass and then probably try to beat me up on top of it, neither being things I’d want to have happen.
“All right,” I finally replied, meeting Byakuya's eye, “I'll take the job on under the terms you outlined earlier, along with the following additions. First, although I’ll never mention that I worked for you, I reserve the right to talk about the case itself. Also, I want to point out in particular that my rate is hourly plus expenses. Before I take the case on, I need your guarantee that you're good for the money.”
Byakuya raised both eyebrows and looked over at me with incredulity. I shook my head and continued. “It's like this, Byakuya. The information you need is out there, somewhere. If we had unlimited time, or at least more than we do currently, I could likely get it for you myself. But since this is a rush job, I'm going to have to deal with some people who can get the information you need quickly. As a result, it's going to cost money, maybe a lot of money.”
Byakuya's brows furrowed and he said, “Kurosaki, if you thought you could take this job to try to cheat me-”
“Don't be ridiculous,” I nearly barked, knowing I was scowling at the man again. “All right, since you obviously didn't get it the first time, let me spell out what’s going to happen more plainly. The people I'm going to need to deal with in order to get the information you need aren't the kind of folks who have offices downtown, and they're not the type of people you're used to dealing with. Their invoices, which I'll pass along to you, aren't likely to be detailed, but in order to actually get what you need I'm going to tell them that you'll pay what they ask. Do you understand what I'm getting at now?”
“I understand, and I agree. If anything looks out of line, however, you can be sure I'll question it,” Byakuya replied, but I thought I could still see some doubt in his eye.
I sighed before I spoke again. “Just to put your mind at ease as to why I decided to take this job, I have a request for the bonus that Kenpachi mentioned, if I'm able to get the recorded evidence you requested.”
“Of course,” Byakuya replied smoothly. “I'll pay-”
“That's not what I want,” I interrupted, waiting until he fell silent before I continued. “I want an hour's meeting with Rukia, just me and one other person of my choosing. Nothing bad will happen to her, and that maniac,” I said, nodding my head across the table at Kenpachi, “can come along to make sure of that. Not you, though.”
Now he really was glaring at me, but somehow he managed to do it in a way that still looked refined. I swear I'm going to have to get lessons from him one day. I just watched him, and I could see that he wanted to tell me to go to hell. He glanced at Kenpachi, who was no help and still grinning at having been called a maniac. Byakuya looked back in my direction reluctantly, and I almost found myself feeling sorry for the guy. It was clear from his expression that he desperately wanted to disdainfully reject me entirely and leave, but I knew what was stopping him, because I could see that too. It was a look I'd spotted in a number of my clients’ eyes as they came through my door because they knew no one else would help them. I didn't feel too sorry for Byakuya, though, because he was still annoyed, probably because he was used to being able to buy or otherwise use his influence to get out of problems he found himself involved in. In contrast, most of my clients were at the end of their ropes by the time they came to see me, since their more limited means gave them fewer options.
“All right,” Byakuya finally said, his mouth barely moving he was so tight-lipped. “But if anything at all happens to her, you are going to regret the day you ever met me.”
“I'm already regretting it,” I murmured, trying not to pitch my voice so that anyone else could hear it, because I couldn't stop the damned comment from coming out of my mouth. I noticed Byakuya cast me an incredulous glance, however, so I tried to cover my previous words with something new. “OK, agreed. I'll write up one of my standard contracts along with the changes we discussed and have it sent over to your office by tomorrow morning, and I'll make sure nothing on the outside of the package notes my identity, my work, or my work address. Do what you need to do to get it back to me by the following morning, along with a check for my retainer, so that I can get on this case for you.”
He nodded just barely to signify he'd heard, and I found myself letting out a small sigh along with tension draining out of my shoulders I hadn't realized was there. It's done now, might as well go forward with the case, I found myself thinking. “All right, Byakuya,” I said, turning to the next page in my notebook, “start from the beginning and let's go through the story again. Kenpachi did give me a summary of what happened, but I want you to tell me all of the details you remember, no matter how insignificant you think they might be. Please don't hold anything back, and don't leave out things even if you feel like you don't want to talk about them.”
My look at him was a challenge, but he gazed right back at me. “How long should this take?”
“As long as it takes for you to go carefully through all the facts so that I know everything you know, and then give me a way to contact you, preferably at any time.” I paused as he slipped a card to me across the table. As I picked it up I noted that it was an old-fashioned heavy cream card stock with an embossed border that had simply a telephone number printed on it.
“That's my personal number,” Byakuya said. “You can reach me there at any time, but please don't call without good reason.”
I bit my cheek so that I didn't roll my eyes. Believe me, I wouldn't be calling a dead fish like you without good reason was the first thought that came to mind, but I somehow reined my thoughts back to business.
“Thanks,” I replied as I scrawled on a corner of my notebook, then tore the piece off and handed it to Byakuya. “That's my cell phone number. I have it on me at all times, so please call if something relevant to the case comes up.” I let out a little laugh at his raised eyebrow and continued. “I'd give you my business card, but I imagine that would be harder to explain if someone found it than a mysterious phone number on a piece of paper.”
He took the slip of paper then and put it in the pocket he'd taken the card out of. “Now then,” I said, “could you start by letting me know who from Infinium came by to make you this offer?”
“He said his name was Sosuke Aizen,” Byakuya replied, his eyes narrowing.
I'm sure mine widened as I considered the fact that Aizen hadn't entrusted the job of approaching Kuchiki to any of his subordinates, opting to do it himself. “I take it you know that he's the President and CEO of the company,” I said, flipping my notes back a couple of pages to verify my memory.
Byakuya rolled his eyes. “Yes, he took care to mention that prominently.”
I was probably only half-listening to what he said in response, however, because just below Aizen's name I spotted the name of the CIO, and suddenly my previously absent memory kicked in just as I looked back up at Byakuya. The CIO had worked for his company before, I recalled, vaguely remembering a local business magazine's account of some spat he’d had with one of Byakuya's higher-ups before he left Kuchiki Industries.
“Have you looked into the rest of their upper management?” I asked quickly, and suddenly my heart was beating double-time, the way it always does when I know I've just caught hold of a thread that might help to unravel a difficult case.
“Yes,” he said, his voice tight, and he looked over at me quickly, as if trying to figure out how much I knew about what I was asking.
“So you know that their CIO, their head computer person, used to work for your company?” A look at his now impassive face confirmed that question. “If that's the case, are you going to be upgrading your computer network soon?”
He nodded in reply. “It's already in progress.”
“Good. Has your current phone ever been attached to your work network?” I asked, almost sure I knew what the answer was there. When he only grimaced in reply, I continued, “Well, there are lots of nice new models out there right now. I'd advise you not to call me until you get a new one.”
He nodded unwillingly and then started recounting the story Kenpachi had summarized for me, after asking the other man to call Rukia and notify her to cancel his after-lunch meetings. To Kenpachi's credit, I ended up with some more notes, but I didn't have anything new that I'd consider significant. After reminding Byakuya to call me should anything new and relevant to the case occur, we parted ways.
It was a bit after 2:30 by the time I got back to the office. The first thing I did once I got there was to take one of my standard contracts and add everything that Byakuya and I had discussed. It took about an hour before I got it into a shape I was happy with, but once I did, I went to the nearest place I could ship it by FedEx and sent it to arrive early the next morning. For my return address, I left no name and used a P.O. box number that I'd rented years ago when I was a poor student living in a group house where the mail was known for disappearing.
I realized the day was drawing to a close as I walked back to my office, but I knew there was at least one more thing I could try to get done. I held my cigarette tightly in my lips as a brisk breeze blew past, and as I fumbled in the pocket of my overcoat for my cell phone, I found myself thinking that it was too late in the autumn for me to be wearing a jacket this light. I put my other hand in my pocket for a moment as the phone rang and I listened hopefully for a response.
“Urahara Shop, how may I help you?” an oily voice finally said as the phone was answered.
“It's Ichigo Kurosaki,” I replied. “I have a rush job for Yoruichi and Ururu. There's some information a client needs as soon as possible, and they definitely have the means to pay.”
“Ah, Mr. Kurosaki,” he responded, and something in his tone made me feel like he'd been expecting my call. “I'll contact Yoruichi tonight and let her know about your request. I'm afraid I don't think I'll be getting back to you until tomorrow, but I'll be sure to call bright and early to let you know what she says.”
I should have known better than to think she might be available on short notice, I told my inner optimist. “All right. I'll be waiting for your call, Urahara.”
“Certainly. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Mr. Kurosaki.”
I'll be waiting for your call because this investigation is probably dead in the water without her, I found myself morosely considering. I mean, sure, I could poke around or I could go undercover, maybe do a combination of the two. Eventually I'd turn up some answers, but those methods took time, which was something that was in short supply in this case. Hell, for all I knew I was already too late.
I flicked the burnt-down stub of my cigarette away and lit another one, telling myself that I shouldn't even worry about that at this point. Fortunately, my cell phone beeped in my pocket to distract me and I found a text message from Renji.
“Goin out w Shu after wk. Wont be by tonite.”
I wasn't much of a text sender usually, but I managed to return with, “Dont drink so much you cant ink tomorrow.”
“Fuck you,” he replied, which just made me laugh.
“That a promise?”
I swore I could see him smile when he got that one. “Yeah. See ya tomorrow.”
Fuck, I thought as I rounded the corner to my office. I realized now that the whole evening stretched out before me, but I couldn’t think of much worthwhile to do to fill it. Now that it was official, I found myself burning to get going on the case, but it was pretty much the end of the business day and I had no real leads that I could follow up on. If Renji’d been coming by I could have distracted myself easily until Urahara’s call tomorrow morning, but now…
I headed the rest of the way back home and grabbed my laptop and brought it upstairs so that I could type up my notes while I made dinner and ate. People always ask why I do that, when I’m rarely without my notebook, but this way I have a backup in case anything happens to my notebook, or to me. Unfortunately, neither typing nor dinner took very long, so I was back to staring at the walls.
Shaking my head at my restlessness, I threw myself into cleaning up the apartment (something I usually put off until even I can no longer deny it needs to be done), even going so far as to start some laundry, but the place was too small to occupy me for long. Finally, I changed into something more appropriate for a workout and headed out to where I thought Tatsuki would be teaching that day. As it turned out, I had guessed wrong, but her father, who was teaching that particular class, insisted that I stay as he called her.
“It's her day off,” he explained, “but she'd never forgive me if she heard that I turned you away. You are her favorite sparring partner, Ichigo.”
For some reason, I felt inordinately pleased at that. “Thank you, sir.”
He just smiled and made some tea which I drank as I waited. Tatsuki arrived not long after, and the smirk on her face when I saw her made me squirm a little. “You're in over your head, aren't you?” she asked, once we were alone and facing off in the middle of the empty martial arts studio, her words echoing slightly off the mirrors and bare wood floor. “That's the only reason you ever show up here more than once a week.”
My heart jumped once, as if guilty. “Yeah, I guess maybe I am,” I replied, thinking about all of the events of the past few days.
“Well, don't fuck it up and push him away this time,” she replied, and I could see her squaring her posture, getting ready to fight. “You have a habit of doing that, you know.”
To my mortification, I could feel my face heat up. “That's not what I meant!” I replied hotly, belatedly remembering that she'd met Renji a couple of months ago, at a party Chad's band had thrown when they'd recorded a new album.
“Sure, Ichigo,” she said, her smile positively wicked now as she closed in for her attack.
The whole thing had thrown me off enough that she pretty easily defeated me a number of times that evening. My whole body ached as I reached for my cell phone that morning, squinting against the early morning light as I did. “Kurosaki here,” I replied, having trained myself to answer coherently night or day since this was my main business number.
“Ah, Mr. Kurosaki,” Urahara's familiar smooth voice replied, and I blinked quickly as I looked at the alarm clock not far away. Trying not to curse under my breath, I got up out of bed with as much haste as I could manage, realizing that I must have forgotten to set the alarm the previous night, since it was already 9AM. “I spoke to Ms. Yoruichi yesterday evening, and she's agreed to see you today. Can you be here by 10 this morning?” he asked.
I looked at myself in the mirror a little angrily as I replied. “Yes, I'll be there. Thanks, Urahara.”
“It's my pleasure, Mr. Kurosaki.”
Click here for Chapter 3, part 2