Blood/Water: Chapters 6-8 (of 15)
title: Blood/Water: Chapters 6 - 8
genre: mystery, suspense, alternate universe
rating: T
word count: 4000 (this installment) --> I just realized these are the shortest chapters ever because... I don't know. *sweatdrop*
warnings? Occasional swearing.
Blood/Water Prologue, 1-2
Blood/Water 3-5
series summary: In the Commonwealth of Karakura, an innocent young woman is on trial for the murder of her sister. Ichigo Kurosaki, rookie inspector for the Metropolitan Police, feels duty-bound to investigate the case. What he doesn't know yet is that he's about to come face-to-face with the sordid, unscrupulous side of his beloved archipelago.
disclaimer: All Bleach names are the creation of Kubo Tite.
Interlude 5.5: At the Twin Fish Private Inquiries Ltd., Mashiba District
Shunsui realized he was yet to be freed from the bother that was the phony land titling case in Seireitei, and Nanao-chan said it was his fault. From behind the frosted glass partition, Ukitake could hear their executive assistant give his partner a good tongue-lashing for wasting company resources.
“If you just managed to check that you had made copies of all the files before you left, knowing that the information is too confidential to fax…”
Ukitake knew it wasn’t the sort of tongue-lashing Shunsui liked best.
“What’s this receipt for ‘meals’ at the Death and the Maiden, anyway? I’ve heard about that nightspot before, and no, you can’t list your after-hour boozing as part of your per diem!”
Ukitake merely called up the marina, chuckling to himself.
The scolding came to an end. Shunsui burst though the door, grumbling. “Tell me once more, Ukitake,” he demanded, “If I am such the incompetent bastard she says I am, why am I still your partner? And more to the point, if she’s such hot stuff, why doesn’t she set up her own agency?”
The man behind the desk smiled beatifically. “You’re here because you’re a founding member of the agency,” he replied. “You know I would do anything to exchange my work behind the desk for yours, but my health doesn’t permit it. And Miss Nanao is efficient… but she’s still learning the ropes.”
Shunsui nodded despondently so Ukitake threw him a sop for his feelings. Perhaps Nanao had been more harsh than usual. The forgotten files was a mistake anyone could have made. “Besides, Miss Nanao will never leave us. She likes you too much to do that.”
The frosted glass partition rattled. “I heard that, sir!” Nanao called out.
The two men grinned at each other. Shunsui then relented. “Okay, I’m off to Seireitei again, I believe. See you in a few days.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ukitake said pleasantly. “I chartered the last ferry available. And take Miss Nanao with you. Teach her something useful on the field, for once.”
Shunsui’s mood visibly perked up. A slow smile spread across his face. “It seems that you are coming with me, young lady,” Ukitake heard him coo the moment the door was shut.
Chapter 6: Kuchiki Towers, Wakame Road corner 6th Street, Sakura-Bashi District
It was past ten o’clock when Byakuya Kuchiki heard a soft tapping on his double doors. He permitted entry. Most likely it was just the staff wishing him goodnight. Instead the housemaid looked hesitant.
“Sir, a visitor for you,” she murmured. “He has no card on him, but it’s Inspector Kurosaki from the Met. He says he has a few questions for you.”
Byakuya yawned. “I believe I gave them all the information they need, Nemu,” he answered. “Have Ikkaku send him away.”
Before Nemu could close off the heavy double doors to Byakuya’s office, however, she heard the sounds of two men arguing. “What in earth…”
For Ichigo had pushed his way in, with Ikkaku practically dragging him down with each step. “I said, buddy, the boss just left for Seireitei in his private speedboat, he doesn’t want to be disturbed by the likes of you -- ”
“Left an hour ago, huh?” Ichigo shook off the bodyguard, glaring at him. “Perhaps I should haul you in the Met for questioning, too, you bald punk. You’re trying to obstruct an officer of the law in the course of his duties.”
Ikkaku looked towards Byakuya for directions, but none was forthcoming. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, boss,” Ikkaku stammered.
Byakuya barely glanced up from the stack of papers he was perusing on his desk. “It’s disrespectful to treat my staff like dirt, and to ignore the request of my family’s barristers to channel all communications through them,” he said coldly. “I have no further statement to give to the police about my sister-in-law’s case.”
“Oh yeah?” Ichigo stepped away from Ikkaku’s reach. “And that’s for me to say, Mr. Kuchiki.”
“Why are you here?” Byakuya’s face was expressionless. “I can easily have you investigated by the Commission of Internal Affairs for trespassing on my property and forcing your way here without a warrant.”
Ikkaku stepped closer to Ichigo, and Nemu stood by the door, waiting. But Ichigo was not to be deterred. Idle threats could not harm him. If he managed to bribe the green-haired receptionist at the lobby with a box of chocolates to let him in, Ichigo wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. God only knows, Ichigo thought darkly, where this man might fly off to tomorrow.
“Yeah, I have lots of questions,” Ichigo said. “But they don’t have anything to do directly with Rukia Kuchiki.” In response to the raised eyebrow, Ichigo bluffed. “I have come to ask about Benihime.”
Byakuya finally glanced up. He was not surprised to recognize the orange-haired inspector from his occasional attendance at the courtroom. “Nemu, you may go. Ikkaku, close the door and wait outside.”
When the doors closed, Byakuya swiveled his chair around and reached for the crystal decanter on the sideboard. “What makes you think I have anything to do with Kisuke Urahara?” he said, as single malt whiskey splashed into a glass.
Ichigo could smell the potency of the liquor but knew he was not about to be offered anything to drink. He wasn’t invited to sit either, so he stood, examining the antiques that furnished the private office. Everything was luxurious and manly, from the buttery soft leather seats down to the wooden box of Havana cigars beside the decanter. So that’s what caused Hisana’s secondhand smoke woes, Ichigo thought idly. He turned to the matter at hand. “Urahara’s one of your tenants, is he not?” Byakuya nodded, his glass still tilted towards his lips. “Why do you suppose he tried to pass me information regarding your sister’s case?”
“Kisuke Urahara was once a brilliant scientist,” Byakuya said, putting down his glass again without having drank from it. “He rents two buildings from me, one in West Rukongai and another here at the very end of 12th Street. He makes candy now.” A flicker of amusement batted through the man’s eyes. “He has put his extensive knowledge of anatomy and chemistry to such an innocent diversion. My wife and my sister-in-law were quite fond of his chocolates. In fact, that’s where they accidentally bumped into each other - they were both reaching for the last box of rabbit-shaped chocolate cherries.”
Ichigo was not to be sidetracked by this delightful little anecdote. It was absurd for a man such as Byakuya Kuchiki to care about these things. “But Kisuke Urahara still knows enough science to fabricate poisons, on commission for a person such as yourself.”
“I can hardly answer to what Urahara knows and does not know,” the businessman didn’t miss a beat. “Nor can I say as to what he does in his spare time when he’s not tending to his profitable store. He acquits himself as a model tenant. That’s all I require of him.”
Ichigo paused by one side table that held nothing but a single pillowed box. In it were the relics of the Kuchiki family -- a strange heirloom, wrought in white gold with fine markings. So this is the famous Kuchiki kenseikan, Ichigo almost whistled. It’s that headpiece worn by the head of the clan. It rested on a fine, spidery white scarf. Ichigo leaned over it, seemingly in awe. His hand quickly moved on top of the relic, examining it very closely and tugged at its joints.
“Don’t touch that, inspector,” Byakuya’s voice almost lost its cool.
“There was just some dust on the surface, that’s all,” Ichigo shrugged. He pretended to lose interest in it. “I take it you don’t wear it often.”
“Only for social occasions,” Byakuya said. “It would do no good to wear out such a priceless artifact. I wore it last week.”
Good, Ichigo thought. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to ask you about Hisana’s will, too.” He made up his mind to sit down, whether he was invited to or not. “If anything was to happen to Rukia, it says that everything reverts back to you.”
Byakuya hesitated before answering. “Yes, everything reverts back to the family,” he admitted.
“Don’t you think it strange, that someone known for supporting charitable causes would have a clause like that in her will?”
“It should not surprise anyone,” Byakuya answered. “My corporation always did the financial plans for Hisana’s projects. The foundation established in her name is no different.”
“And regarding your own will -- who is your beneficiary?”
Byakuya seemed to stare deep into the depths of his bourbon glass. “In the absence of a Kuchiki heir, some distant cousins may come into small cash inheritance. All other assets, like most of the real estate and the Seireitei resort, will eventually benefit the Kuchiki Group.”
Ichigo attempted anew to shake something out of him. “What happened to the housemaid, Momo Hinamori?”
Byakuya gave an elegant shrug. “I don’t manage such things as the hiring and firing of all my staff, especially in my Seireitei home… but I do believe she quit a week ago. The stress of appearing in court was too much for her. She went back to stay with her relatives. I believe the courts know about her exact whereabouts.”
“Not too bothered by it, aren’t you? I mean, the key witness to the case…”
Byakuya bristled. “If you’re insinuating anything, you are highly mistaken. Hinamori was in my employ, and she left. Her position was easily filled. Witness or not, I have not anything to do with her.”
Ichigo tried to control his fury. This man’s attitude towards others irked him… people were objects to ignore or discard as he alone saw fit. No wonder why Rukia thought he was a stranger.
He wanted to get out of this man’s despicable presence as soon as possible. “Actually I also came here to ask you to sign this waiver, giving your permission for an exhumation.” Ichigo pulled out the papers he earlier fielded to Judge Yamamoto.
“No.” The syllable was forceful and conveyed all his hidden outrage. “I cannot do that. I already allowed the police to collect what they needed. I will not tolerate the desecration of Hisana’s remains. Anything else?”
“It’s worth a shot,” Ichigo grinned, undeterred, “But I’d like some of your fingernail clippings, too.”
“Do you have a warrant to collect such evidence?” Byakuya was waiting. “I think not, since you didn’t present one immediately upon your arrival. You’ve been asking me random questions since you got here, inspector. I suggest you leave now.”
Ichigo was full of empty bravado as the double doors swung open for him from the other side. “See you in court in three weeks, Mr. Kuchiki.”
Ikkaku escorted him out the building. “I’d be careful about strangers in the dark tonight,” he warned, almost gleefully.
“Shut up, punk,” Ichigo said, pissed.
Across the street from the Kuchiki Towers, in a secluded, windless spot, Ichigo wanted to punch the wall again. Somehow, he knew things weren’t as going as well as they should be.
Instead of releasing his anger on some innocent brinks, Ichigo instead drew out the single strand of black hair he had plucked off the kenseikan. He wasn’t sure if it was Byakuya Kuchiki’s hair, but in length and color it was close enough. Ichigo stuffed it into an evidence envelope and sealed it.
Ichigo got on his cell phone. “Hey, Sergeant Asano. You on duty tonight? Good. Is there anyone over at the laboratory? I got something that needs analyzing… what do you mean they they were all ferried off to Rukongai on some urgent case? Hell,” he cursed under his breath. “But this is urgent! I guess I have to send this to a private lab. Thanks anyway.”
As Ichigo moved to hit another number on speed dial, he sensed a presence coming behind him. Instinctively, his hand moved for his concealed weapon. “Don’t move any closer to me, buddy.”
Ichigo whirled around to see a stooped old man, taking shelter in the shadows. His eyes were vaguely familiar but the rest of his features were obscured with deep wrinkles. Ichigo eyed the man and his heavy cane warily.
“I overheard what you had to say to my grandson,” was all he said. “I want to sign that waiver.”
“Who are you?” Ichigo demanded.
“The girl at reception alerted me,” he said, impatient with these explanations. “And Ikkaku’s a good boy, he let me listen. Come on, sonny, I don’t have much time. Give me a pen before I’m missed.”
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, as he watched the old man’s fingers tremble slightly as he signed his name.
“For the same reasons as you.” Ginrei Kuchiki’s expression was inscrutable.
Interlude 6.5: somewhere in the Kawazaki District of mainland Karakura
Two men were sitting on a bench, ostensibly watching the sunrise. One was feeding the ducks in the little man-made pond in the center of town. It was too early for the fashionable shops and handicraft stores to open, although the sidewalk vendors were beginning to emerge, drowsy-eyed and only wishing for bed.
The shorter man was dressed as a tourist complete with a gaudy floral shirt and bermuda shorts too big for his thin frame; the other was a redhead, highly decorated with tattoos.
“You’re late,” the redhead addressed the ducks.
The man in the floral shirt didn’t look up from the bread he was crumbling into bits. “Give me a break, I came over from you-know-where. It’s not the easiest stretch of open sea to navigate. Especially when you want me to travel by the coastline, so I never lose my cell phone signal. ”
The redhead grunted and let it pass. “One of the inspectors on the Karakura force has been making inquiries,” he observed. “If I wasn’t here to keep an eye on your place of work…”
“He will be reprimanded soon,” the man with the floral shirt said soothingly. “I know of whom you speak of. He’ll be forced to go on administrative leave. I will make the call today.”
“Good. You realize that there is no turning back despite the delay presented by the court.”
“I knew that from the start,” his companion replied. “We’ve made a mess of things, haven’t we?”
“Speak for yourself,” the redhead snorted. “In a parallel universe, perhaps, things can be done differently.”
The man in the floral shirt considered that. He wasn’t keen for all that different time-space continuum crap. He was a realist. “Will I take care of that other minor matter?”
“However you see fit,” the redhead replied. “Perhaps you can meet them half-way.”
The man in the floral shirt laughed. “Seeing that I’m already here, that might be a bit of problem. But I will manage.” He stopped to throw another crust to a waiting duck. “You certainly ask so much of me.”
“I’d like to see you try to set up a second attack on -- ”
“Now, now, that’s no one’s fault.” The man in the floral shirt sobered up for a moment. “You know I can’t break my cover at work yet. Are you indeed ready to lead this coup?”
The redhead smiled. “They will all be dead before they realize what hit them.”
“You seem vindictive.”
“Of course I am,” he reflected. “I hate it when people get in my way. If we succeed, we will have everything we truly merit. And no one will ever think of us as dogs again.”
“We will succeed,” the man in the floral shirt encouraged him, leaving no room for doubt with his words. “It’s all just a matter of time.”
“Time and water,” the redhead laughed.
Chapter 7: Penitence Detention Facility, Sougyoku Hills
“I got good news for you, Rukia,” Ichigo said, the moment she slid into the seat opposite him.
“Fast work… Inspector,” she said.
“I thought I said you could call me anything you like?” he grinned. Only a day had passed, and today he felt remarkably upbeat. “I’m sick of all this Inspector business. That’s what everyone calls me, even when I’m not on duty.”
“Okay… Ichigo,” Rukia said, pausing to consider how his first name sounded on her tongue. “Should I give you a gold star for your news?”
“First let me tell it, before you get sarcastic,” he grinned. “Your grandfather gave the go-ahead for Hisana’s exhumation.”
Rukia’s face fell, and for a moment Ichigo panicked, thinking that he had made a mistake. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I can hardly be delighted at the thought of my sister being dug up from her resting place,” Rukia reasoned. “Seeing that I wasn’t allowed to be there at the funeral, I guess I haven’t really said good-bye.”
Oh fuck. Ichigo wanted to hit himself for his lack of tact. “Well, it’s the only way to prove your innocence, you know,” he said defensively. “The original blood and urine tests may have been compromised.”
Rukia was unconvinced. The expression on her face said that much.
“Look, do you think your sister’s spirit can rest easily if you’re falsely condemned for something you didn’t do? Don’t give me that look.”
Reluctantly, she nodded. “You’re right… Ichigo.”
“Thanks. I need to hear that,” he gave her a thin smile, and ventured on a small joke. “Feel free to repeat that sentence any time, especially in my hearing.”
She grimaced. “I’m not here to feed your ego,” she declared. “Is that all the news you have for me?”
Ichigo knew he had used that bit of news as a pretext for seeing her again. But now that he was in her presence, something else did come to mind. “I need you to tell me the real deal about the Kuchiki staff,” he said. “Especially Momo Hinamori. I’m having difficulty tracking her down.”
Rukia was surprised. “Momo Hinamori? She was a nice girl. Her official title was housemaid, of course, but in reality she was a nurse. She looked after both Grandfather and Hisana. She was an expert at Chinese medicine and her herbal therapies eased some of Hisana’s pain. She didn’t have any family left, but she had a boyfriend…”
Her face seemed to lighten with the inconsequential prattle. Ichigo listened if only for the pleasure of listening to her voice, even if nothing she said seemed to be of much relevance to the case. There wasn’t much he could do at the moment, anyway.
From behind the one-way mirror, Hanatarou shuffled his feet and tried not to be too pleased.
He turned to see the Warden sneak upon him unawares.
How long had she been watching the visitors room behind him? “Yamada, explain to me why you barred the chief inspector of the Seireitei outpost from interrogating this inmate, and yet let this one -- ” she tapped the glass “-- get rather friendly.”
Hanatarou was at a loss. “He didn’t introduce himself as an inspector,” he lied. “He was in mufti.”
“Perhaps you should send this one away now,” Warden Kotetsu suggested, as she picked up the phone. “I’ll apologize to the Seireitei outpost for you, but next time be more careful about offending them.”
Hanatarou agreed, and turned away shamefaced. He didn’t want to be the cause for Rukia’s only distraction to be snatched away so soon, but it was necessary if he wanted to keep his job… and protect her from all threats, real or imagined.
Chapter 8: At the Met Headquarters, Key Street, Mashiba District
“Inspector Kurosaki, get your ass in my office this moment,” a female voice said irritably.
It would have been a seductive line, as spoken by someone with such a smoky voice as Yoruichi Shihoin, but the tone was obviously serious.
Some of the other people in the Met looked up and then went back to work. Only Constable Chizuru - a rookie who should know better by now - gave Ichigo a thumb’s up sign. Ichigo growled at her and entered the Chief Inspector’s private office.
The Shihoin looked up from her day-old newspaper and tossed it on the table. Ichigo could just barely make out the headline under the fold: Fishermen Make Grisly Discovery -- Headless Man Found Floating in Rukongai waters!
She cocked a well-plucked eyebrow in his direction. The little twat wasn’t paying attention to her. “I’ve heard from one of my colleagues that you’ve been poking your head in the Kuchiki case,” Shihoin started, her tone low and threatening. “That’s the first time I heard that you were assigned to it, Kurosaki.”
Ichigo gulped. He hadn’t quite planned on telling the Shihoin at all.
“Do you deny that you questioned the prisoner and accosted Byakuya Kuchiki in his own home, Kurosaki? Your actions should be subject to internal investigation! This is not to mention that little problem of paperwork for an exhumation you managed to slip past me.”
The young man was silent. His boss continued. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
“You can’t stop me,” Ichigo spoke up. “I’m checking this out on my own time, and I’m not neglecting my normal workload. If you want, I’ll file a proper leave of absence, but I’m not going to -”
“Did I tell you to stop?” the Chief Inspector suddenly grinned at him.
Ichigo did a double take. “-what?”
“I merely asked you to explain yourself,” Yoruichi Shihoin stretched out her legs, placing her feet on her desk. “Ever since the re-trial was ordered, I was planning to have someone re-examine the case, but did you ever bother to report to me and say you were interested in it? No. You’re a horrible subordinate, and you deserve some ticking off for acting without my permission.”
Ichigo almost withered at her words. Almost. “I’m not saying you are right to go behind my back. But if anyone in the Met had screwed up, leading up to a wrongful conviction, they would have hell to pay for. I don’t care if the Seireitei outpost is to blame or us. A screw-up is still a Met screw-up.”
He had to control his scowl from slipping into a smile. He wasn’t totally off the hook yet.
“Still,” Chief Inspector Shihoin continued, “I would like to know how you expect me, your boss, to save your ass from the wrath of the other chief inspectors, if I don’t know your ass needs saving?”
“Er…”
“You better be grateful you didn’t have to listen to Chief Inspector Gin,” the Shihoin said. “His mouth was full of expletives for your interference.”
Ichigo was silent.
“You better thank your friend down at Central Archives for telling me,” she continued. “Too bad she was reprimanded and suspended before she came clean. But at least I had some idea of what was happening before I got chewed out by a colleague.”
Fuck. He didn’t realize that he got Tatsuki into trouble. He almost forgot about the case file he got surreptitiously.
“Chief Inspector?” the question was out of his mouth before he thought it out. “How is Mr. Urahara?”
The expression in her eyes didn’t change. “He’s in stable condition, but still unconscious. When he wakes up, I’ll interrogate him myself.” She seemed secretly delighted at the prospect. She waved Ichigo off with an elegant hand. “I suppose the fools outside let slip that the exhumation is underway? No? So what are you still standing around here for? Go scoot.”
“And Kurosaki?” she called after him while her office door was ajar. She raised the volume of her voice, so that everyone on the ground floor could hear her. “Stop visiting Rukia Kuchiki on a daily basis. Just catch the real culprit, will you? Warden Kotetsu says she’s running a detention center, not a dating service.”
Ichigo visibly withered at those words. He slammed the door shut.
Yoruichi Shihoin smiled, catlike. She always had the last word in her Met.
Blood/Water Chapters 9 - 11
My secret grammar police, unleash the hounds! XD
genre: mystery, suspense, alternate universe
rating: T
word count: 4000 (this installment) --> I just realized these are the shortest chapters ever because... I don't know. *sweatdrop*
warnings? Occasional swearing.
Blood/Water Prologue, 1-2
Blood/Water 3-5
series summary: In the Commonwealth of Karakura, an innocent young woman is on trial for the murder of her sister. Ichigo Kurosaki, rookie inspector for the Metropolitan Police, feels duty-bound to investigate the case. What he doesn't know yet is that he's about to come face-to-face with the sordid, unscrupulous side of his beloved archipelago.
disclaimer: All Bleach names are the creation of Kubo Tite.
Interlude 5.5: At the Twin Fish Private Inquiries Ltd., Mashiba District
Shunsui realized he was yet to be freed from the bother that was the phony land titling case in Seireitei, and Nanao-chan said it was his fault. From behind the frosted glass partition, Ukitake could hear their executive assistant give his partner a good tongue-lashing for wasting company resources.
“If you just managed to check that you had made copies of all the files before you left, knowing that the information is too confidential to fax…”
Ukitake knew it wasn’t the sort of tongue-lashing Shunsui liked best.
“What’s this receipt for ‘meals’ at the Death and the Maiden, anyway? I’ve heard about that nightspot before, and no, you can’t list your after-hour boozing as part of your per diem!”
Ukitake merely called up the marina, chuckling to himself.
The scolding came to an end. Shunsui burst though the door, grumbling. “Tell me once more, Ukitake,” he demanded, “If I am such the incompetent bastard she says I am, why am I still your partner? And more to the point, if she’s such hot stuff, why doesn’t she set up her own agency?”
The man behind the desk smiled beatifically. “You’re here because you’re a founding member of the agency,” he replied. “You know I would do anything to exchange my work behind the desk for yours, but my health doesn’t permit it. And Miss Nanao is efficient… but she’s still learning the ropes.”
Shunsui nodded despondently so Ukitake threw him a sop for his feelings. Perhaps Nanao had been more harsh than usual. The forgotten files was a mistake anyone could have made. “Besides, Miss Nanao will never leave us. She likes you too much to do that.”
The frosted glass partition rattled. “I heard that, sir!” Nanao called out.
The two men grinned at each other. Shunsui then relented. “Okay, I’m off to Seireitei again, I believe. See you in a few days.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ukitake said pleasantly. “I chartered the last ferry available. And take Miss Nanao with you. Teach her something useful on the field, for once.”
Shunsui’s mood visibly perked up. A slow smile spread across his face. “It seems that you are coming with me, young lady,” Ukitake heard him coo the moment the door was shut.
Chapter 6: Kuchiki Towers, Wakame Road corner 6th Street, Sakura-Bashi District
It was past ten o’clock when Byakuya Kuchiki heard a soft tapping on his double doors. He permitted entry. Most likely it was just the staff wishing him goodnight. Instead the housemaid looked hesitant.
“Sir, a visitor for you,” she murmured. “He has no card on him, but it’s Inspector Kurosaki from the Met. He says he has a few questions for you.”
Byakuya yawned. “I believe I gave them all the information they need, Nemu,” he answered. “Have Ikkaku send him away.”
Before Nemu could close off the heavy double doors to Byakuya’s office, however, she heard the sounds of two men arguing. “What in earth…”
For Ichigo had pushed his way in, with Ikkaku practically dragging him down with each step. “I said, buddy, the boss just left for Seireitei in his private speedboat, he doesn’t want to be disturbed by the likes of you -- ”
“Left an hour ago, huh?” Ichigo shook off the bodyguard, glaring at him. “Perhaps I should haul you in the Met for questioning, too, you bald punk. You’re trying to obstruct an officer of the law in the course of his duties.”
Ikkaku looked towards Byakuya for directions, but none was forthcoming. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, boss,” Ikkaku stammered.
Byakuya barely glanced up from the stack of papers he was perusing on his desk. “It’s disrespectful to treat my staff like dirt, and to ignore the request of my family’s barristers to channel all communications through them,” he said coldly. “I have no further statement to give to the police about my sister-in-law’s case.”
“Oh yeah?” Ichigo stepped away from Ikkaku’s reach. “And that’s for me to say, Mr. Kuchiki.”
“Why are you here?” Byakuya’s face was expressionless. “I can easily have you investigated by the Commission of Internal Affairs for trespassing on my property and forcing your way here without a warrant.”
Ikkaku stepped closer to Ichigo, and Nemu stood by the door, waiting. But Ichigo was not to be deterred. Idle threats could not harm him. If he managed to bribe the green-haired receptionist at the lobby with a box of chocolates to let him in, Ichigo wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. God only knows, Ichigo thought darkly, where this man might fly off to tomorrow.
“Yeah, I have lots of questions,” Ichigo said. “But they don’t have anything to do directly with Rukia Kuchiki.” In response to the raised eyebrow, Ichigo bluffed. “I have come to ask about Benihime.”
Byakuya finally glanced up. He was not surprised to recognize the orange-haired inspector from his occasional attendance at the courtroom. “Nemu, you may go. Ikkaku, close the door and wait outside.”
When the doors closed, Byakuya swiveled his chair around and reached for the crystal decanter on the sideboard. “What makes you think I have anything to do with Kisuke Urahara?” he said, as single malt whiskey splashed into a glass.
Ichigo could smell the potency of the liquor but knew he was not about to be offered anything to drink. He wasn’t invited to sit either, so he stood, examining the antiques that furnished the private office. Everything was luxurious and manly, from the buttery soft leather seats down to the wooden box of Havana cigars beside the decanter. So that’s what caused Hisana’s secondhand smoke woes, Ichigo thought idly. He turned to the matter at hand. “Urahara’s one of your tenants, is he not?” Byakuya nodded, his glass still tilted towards his lips. “Why do you suppose he tried to pass me information regarding your sister’s case?”
“Kisuke Urahara was once a brilliant scientist,” Byakuya said, putting down his glass again without having drank from it. “He rents two buildings from me, one in West Rukongai and another here at the very end of 12th Street. He makes candy now.” A flicker of amusement batted through the man’s eyes. “He has put his extensive knowledge of anatomy and chemistry to such an innocent diversion. My wife and my sister-in-law were quite fond of his chocolates. In fact, that’s where they accidentally bumped into each other - they were both reaching for the last box of rabbit-shaped chocolate cherries.”
Ichigo was not to be sidetracked by this delightful little anecdote. It was absurd for a man such as Byakuya Kuchiki to care about these things. “But Kisuke Urahara still knows enough science to fabricate poisons, on commission for a person such as yourself.”
“I can hardly answer to what Urahara knows and does not know,” the businessman didn’t miss a beat. “Nor can I say as to what he does in his spare time when he’s not tending to his profitable store. He acquits himself as a model tenant. That’s all I require of him.”
Ichigo paused by one side table that held nothing but a single pillowed box. In it were the relics of the Kuchiki family -- a strange heirloom, wrought in white gold with fine markings. So this is the famous Kuchiki kenseikan, Ichigo almost whistled. It’s that headpiece worn by the head of the clan. It rested on a fine, spidery white scarf. Ichigo leaned over it, seemingly in awe. His hand quickly moved on top of the relic, examining it very closely and tugged at its joints.
“Don’t touch that, inspector,” Byakuya’s voice almost lost its cool.
“There was just some dust on the surface, that’s all,” Ichigo shrugged. He pretended to lose interest in it. “I take it you don’t wear it often.”
“Only for social occasions,” Byakuya said. “It would do no good to wear out such a priceless artifact. I wore it last week.”
Good, Ichigo thought. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to ask you about Hisana’s will, too.” He made up his mind to sit down, whether he was invited to or not. “If anything was to happen to Rukia, it says that everything reverts back to you.”
Byakuya hesitated before answering. “Yes, everything reverts back to the family,” he admitted.
“Don’t you think it strange, that someone known for supporting charitable causes would have a clause like that in her will?”
“It should not surprise anyone,” Byakuya answered. “My corporation always did the financial plans for Hisana’s projects. The foundation established in her name is no different.”
“And regarding your own will -- who is your beneficiary?”
Byakuya seemed to stare deep into the depths of his bourbon glass. “In the absence of a Kuchiki heir, some distant cousins may come into small cash inheritance. All other assets, like most of the real estate and the Seireitei resort, will eventually benefit the Kuchiki Group.”
Ichigo attempted anew to shake something out of him. “What happened to the housemaid, Momo Hinamori?”
Byakuya gave an elegant shrug. “I don’t manage such things as the hiring and firing of all my staff, especially in my Seireitei home… but I do believe she quit a week ago. The stress of appearing in court was too much for her. She went back to stay with her relatives. I believe the courts know about her exact whereabouts.”
“Not too bothered by it, aren’t you? I mean, the key witness to the case…”
Byakuya bristled. “If you’re insinuating anything, you are highly mistaken. Hinamori was in my employ, and she left. Her position was easily filled. Witness or not, I have not anything to do with her.”
Ichigo tried to control his fury. This man’s attitude towards others irked him… people were objects to ignore or discard as he alone saw fit. No wonder why Rukia thought he was a stranger.
He wanted to get out of this man’s despicable presence as soon as possible. “Actually I also came here to ask you to sign this waiver, giving your permission for an exhumation.” Ichigo pulled out the papers he earlier fielded to Judge Yamamoto.
“No.” The syllable was forceful and conveyed all his hidden outrage. “I cannot do that. I already allowed the police to collect what they needed. I will not tolerate the desecration of Hisana’s remains. Anything else?”
“It’s worth a shot,” Ichigo grinned, undeterred, “But I’d like some of your fingernail clippings, too.”
“Do you have a warrant to collect such evidence?” Byakuya was waiting. “I think not, since you didn’t present one immediately upon your arrival. You’ve been asking me random questions since you got here, inspector. I suggest you leave now.”
Ichigo was full of empty bravado as the double doors swung open for him from the other side. “See you in court in three weeks, Mr. Kuchiki.”
Ikkaku escorted him out the building. “I’d be careful about strangers in the dark tonight,” he warned, almost gleefully.
“Shut up, punk,” Ichigo said, pissed.
Across the street from the Kuchiki Towers, in a secluded, windless spot, Ichigo wanted to punch the wall again. Somehow, he knew things weren’t as going as well as they should be.
Instead of releasing his anger on some innocent brinks, Ichigo instead drew out the single strand of black hair he had plucked off the kenseikan. He wasn’t sure if it was Byakuya Kuchiki’s hair, but in length and color it was close enough. Ichigo stuffed it into an evidence envelope and sealed it.
Ichigo got on his cell phone. “Hey, Sergeant Asano. You on duty tonight? Good. Is there anyone over at the laboratory? I got something that needs analyzing… what do you mean they they were all ferried off to Rukongai on some urgent case? Hell,” he cursed under his breath. “But this is urgent! I guess I have to send this to a private lab. Thanks anyway.”
As Ichigo moved to hit another number on speed dial, he sensed a presence coming behind him. Instinctively, his hand moved for his concealed weapon. “Don’t move any closer to me, buddy.”
Ichigo whirled around to see a stooped old man, taking shelter in the shadows. His eyes were vaguely familiar but the rest of his features were obscured with deep wrinkles. Ichigo eyed the man and his heavy cane warily.
“I overheard what you had to say to my grandson,” was all he said. “I want to sign that waiver.”
“Who are you?” Ichigo demanded.
“The girl at reception alerted me,” he said, impatient with these explanations. “And Ikkaku’s a good boy, he let me listen. Come on, sonny, I don’t have much time. Give me a pen before I’m missed.”
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, as he watched the old man’s fingers tremble slightly as he signed his name.
“For the same reasons as you.” Ginrei Kuchiki’s expression was inscrutable.
Interlude 6.5: somewhere in the Kawazaki District of mainland Karakura
Two men were sitting on a bench, ostensibly watching the sunrise. One was feeding the ducks in the little man-made pond in the center of town. It was too early for the fashionable shops and handicraft stores to open, although the sidewalk vendors were beginning to emerge, drowsy-eyed and only wishing for bed.
The shorter man was dressed as a tourist complete with a gaudy floral shirt and bermuda shorts too big for his thin frame; the other was a redhead, highly decorated with tattoos.
“You’re late,” the redhead addressed the ducks.
The man in the floral shirt didn’t look up from the bread he was crumbling into bits. “Give me a break, I came over from you-know-where. It’s not the easiest stretch of open sea to navigate. Especially when you want me to travel by the coastline, so I never lose my cell phone signal. ”
The redhead grunted and let it pass. “One of the inspectors on the Karakura force has been making inquiries,” he observed. “If I wasn’t here to keep an eye on your place of work…”
“He will be reprimanded soon,” the man with the floral shirt said soothingly. “I know of whom you speak of. He’ll be forced to go on administrative leave. I will make the call today.”
“Good. You realize that there is no turning back despite the delay presented by the court.”
“I knew that from the start,” his companion replied. “We’ve made a mess of things, haven’t we?”
“Speak for yourself,” the redhead snorted. “In a parallel universe, perhaps, things can be done differently.”
The man in the floral shirt considered that. He wasn’t keen for all that different time-space continuum crap. He was a realist. “Will I take care of that other minor matter?”
“However you see fit,” the redhead replied. “Perhaps you can meet them half-way.”
The man in the floral shirt laughed. “Seeing that I’m already here, that might be a bit of problem. But I will manage.” He stopped to throw another crust to a waiting duck. “You certainly ask so much of me.”
“I’d like to see you try to set up a second attack on -- ”
“Now, now, that’s no one’s fault.” The man in the floral shirt sobered up for a moment. “You know I can’t break my cover at work yet. Are you indeed ready to lead this coup?”
The redhead smiled. “They will all be dead before they realize what hit them.”
“You seem vindictive.”
“Of course I am,” he reflected. “I hate it when people get in my way. If we succeed, we will have everything we truly merit. And no one will ever think of us as dogs again.”
“We will succeed,” the man in the floral shirt encouraged him, leaving no room for doubt with his words. “It’s all just a matter of time.”
“Time and water,” the redhead laughed.
Chapter 7: Penitence Detention Facility, Sougyoku Hills
“I got good news for you, Rukia,” Ichigo said, the moment she slid into the seat opposite him.
“Fast work… Inspector,” she said.
“I thought I said you could call me anything you like?” he grinned. Only a day had passed, and today he felt remarkably upbeat. “I’m sick of all this Inspector business. That’s what everyone calls me, even when I’m not on duty.”
“Okay… Ichigo,” Rukia said, pausing to consider how his first name sounded on her tongue. “Should I give you a gold star for your news?”
“First let me tell it, before you get sarcastic,” he grinned. “Your grandfather gave the go-ahead for Hisana’s exhumation.”
Rukia’s face fell, and for a moment Ichigo panicked, thinking that he had made a mistake. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I can hardly be delighted at the thought of my sister being dug up from her resting place,” Rukia reasoned. “Seeing that I wasn’t allowed to be there at the funeral, I guess I haven’t really said good-bye.”
Oh fuck. Ichigo wanted to hit himself for his lack of tact. “Well, it’s the only way to prove your innocence, you know,” he said defensively. “The original blood and urine tests may have been compromised.”
Rukia was unconvinced. The expression on her face said that much.
“Look, do you think your sister’s spirit can rest easily if you’re falsely condemned for something you didn’t do? Don’t give me that look.”
Reluctantly, she nodded. “You’re right… Ichigo.”
“Thanks. I need to hear that,” he gave her a thin smile, and ventured on a small joke. “Feel free to repeat that sentence any time, especially in my hearing.”
She grimaced. “I’m not here to feed your ego,” she declared. “Is that all the news you have for me?”
Ichigo knew he had used that bit of news as a pretext for seeing her again. But now that he was in her presence, something else did come to mind. “I need you to tell me the real deal about the Kuchiki staff,” he said. “Especially Momo Hinamori. I’m having difficulty tracking her down.”
Rukia was surprised. “Momo Hinamori? She was a nice girl. Her official title was housemaid, of course, but in reality she was a nurse. She looked after both Grandfather and Hisana. She was an expert at Chinese medicine and her herbal therapies eased some of Hisana’s pain. She didn’t have any family left, but she had a boyfriend…”
Her face seemed to lighten with the inconsequential prattle. Ichigo listened if only for the pleasure of listening to her voice, even if nothing she said seemed to be of much relevance to the case. There wasn’t much he could do at the moment, anyway.
From behind the one-way mirror, Hanatarou shuffled his feet and tried not to be too pleased.
He turned to see the Warden sneak upon him unawares.
How long had she been watching the visitors room behind him? “Yamada, explain to me why you barred the chief inspector of the Seireitei outpost from interrogating this inmate, and yet let this one -- ” she tapped the glass “-- get rather friendly.”
Hanatarou was at a loss. “He didn’t introduce himself as an inspector,” he lied. “He was in mufti.”
“Perhaps you should send this one away now,” Warden Kotetsu suggested, as she picked up the phone. “I’ll apologize to the Seireitei outpost for you, but next time be more careful about offending them.”
Hanatarou agreed, and turned away shamefaced. He didn’t want to be the cause for Rukia’s only distraction to be snatched away so soon, but it was necessary if he wanted to keep his job… and protect her from all threats, real or imagined.
Chapter 8: At the Met Headquarters, Key Street, Mashiba District
“Inspector Kurosaki, get your ass in my office this moment,” a female voice said irritably.
It would have been a seductive line, as spoken by someone with such a smoky voice as Yoruichi Shihoin, but the tone was obviously serious.
Some of the other people in the Met looked up and then went back to work. Only Constable Chizuru - a rookie who should know better by now - gave Ichigo a thumb’s up sign. Ichigo growled at her and entered the Chief Inspector’s private office.
The Shihoin looked up from her day-old newspaper and tossed it on the table. Ichigo could just barely make out the headline under the fold: Fishermen Make Grisly Discovery -- Headless Man Found Floating in Rukongai waters!
She cocked a well-plucked eyebrow in his direction. The little twat wasn’t paying attention to her. “I’ve heard from one of my colleagues that you’ve been poking your head in the Kuchiki case,” Shihoin started, her tone low and threatening. “That’s the first time I heard that you were assigned to it, Kurosaki.”
Ichigo gulped. He hadn’t quite planned on telling the Shihoin at all.
“Do you deny that you questioned the prisoner and accosted Byakuya Kuchiki in his own home, Kurosaki? Your actions should be subject to internal investigation! This is not to mention that little problem of paperwork for an exhumation you managed to slip past me.”
The young man was silent. His boss continued. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
“You can’t stop me,” Ichigo spoke up. “I’m checking this out on my own time, and I’m not neglecting my normal workload. If you want, I’ll file a proper leave of absence, but I’m not going to -”
“Did I tell you to stop?” the Chief Inspector suddenly grinned at him.
Ichigo did a double take. “-what?”
“I merely asked you to explain yourself,” Yoruichi Shihoin stretched out her legs, placing her feet on her desk. “Ever since the re-trial was ordered, I was planning to have someone re-examine the case, but did you ever bother to report to me and say you were interested in it? No. You’re a horrible subordinate, and you deserve some ticking off for acting without my permission.”
Ichigo almost withered at her words. Almost. “I’m not saying you are right to go behind my back. But if anyone in the Met had screwed up, leading up to a wrongful conviction, they would have hell to pay for. I don’t care if the Seireitei outpost is to blame or us. A screw-up is still a Met screw-up.”
He had to control his scowl from slipping into a smile. He wasn’t totally off the hook yet.
“Still,” Chief Inspector Shihoin continued, “I would like to know how you expect me, your boss, to save your ass from the wrath of the other chief inspectors, if I don’t know your ass needs saving?”
“Er…”
“You better be grateful you didn’t have to listen to Chief Inspector Gin,” the Shihoin said. “His mouth was full of expletives for your interference.”
Ichigo was silent.
“You better thank your friend down at Central Archives for telling me,” she continued. “Too bad she was reprimanded and suspended before she came clean. But at least I had some idea of what was happening before I got chewed out by a colleague.”
Fuck. He didn’t realize that he got Tatsuki into trouble. He almost forgot about the case file he got surreptitiously.
“Chief Inspector?” the question was out of his mouth before he thought it out. “How is Mr. Urahara?”
The expression in her eyes didn’t change. “He’s in stable condition, but still unconscious. When he wakes up, I’ll interrogate him myself.” She seemed secretly delighted at the prospect. She waved Ichigo off with an elegant hand. “I suppose the fools outside let slip that the exhumation is underway? No? So what are you still standing around here for? Go scoot.”
“And Kurosaki?” she called after him while her office door was ajar. She raised the volume of her voice, so that everyone on the ground floor could hear her. “Stop visiting Rukia Kuchiki on a daily basis. Just catch the real culprit, will you? Warden Kotetsu says she’s running a detention center, not a dating service.”
Ichigo visibly withered at those words. He slammed the door shut.
Yoruichi Shihoin smiled, catlike. She always had the last word in her Met.
Blood/Water Chapters 9 - 11
My secret grammar police, unleash the hounds! XD