SHINJUKU WILD, CHAPTER TWOby rukia
Chapter 2: Renewal
Ichigo doesn’t dream. He stopped having those things nearly 5 years ago.
Of course, he didn’t notice it at first. It was just that one day, while talking to a dream interpreter during one of Don Kanonji’s ‘social gatherings,’ he was asked what his most recent dreams were like.
Ichigo thought about it seriously, but after 2 glasses of brandy and 10 minutes of hard thought, he still came up with nothing. No nightmares, none of those crazy dreams of dancing purple turkeys, not even pleasant ones about secluded beaches at sunset... nothing..
The realization bothered Ichigo. He didn’t particularly like dreaming in the first place, but it was always good know he was capable of it, like any normal person. He asked the dream interpreter what that meant. He half-expected her to say that he couldn’t dream because he had no sense of imagination left, or that they were probably too boring to remember.
Instead, the lady tapped her silvery-blue painted fingernails twice against her lips, which formed a small ‘o’ of amazement, “It must mean that you’ve developed your psychic abilities to the point that you can no longer dream! If you do envision anything in a dream state, it will most likely be a premonition instead. Only high level psychics can do that! Oh, how impressive, Mr. Kurosaki!”
This reinforced Ichigo’s belief that all of this New Age stuff was a crock of bull.
So he doesn’t care that he doesn’t dream. Nor does he know that the lady from years ago had spoken the truth.
He never dreams anymore.
He has premonitions.
~*~*~
Ichigo made it to Shibuya station by 8 o’clock and sped down the steps to reach the Hachikou exit. Once outside, he spotted Chad in the middle of the morning crowd, waiting for him.
Chad wasn’t a hard guy to spot. He had a naturally dark tan with shaggy brown hair. Plus, he was nearly two heads taller than most people in Tokyo, including the foreigners. He stood out like a corn stalk in a field of cut grass. The police uniform he wore certainly helped too. It had to be custom tailored to his size, but it was a nice fit and gave an air of authority to an otherwise soft-spoken guy.
Ichigo pushed through the morning crowd until he reached Chad’s side. “Sorry I’m late,” he was breathing hard from his sprint from the train platform to the street. “It’s a long commute from Karakura.”
Together, they headed toward a nearby skyscraper marked with the Tokyo MPD emblem on its doors. Ichigo, who wore a black suit and trench coat, resembled a hair-bleached gangster being taken in for questioning. Luckily, with a reliable-looking cop like Chad beside him, no one bothered them with a second glance.
Chad peered down at him through his long bangs and asked, “...How’s your family?”
“Insane,” Ichigo said as they walked into the lobby of Tokyo Police Headquarters together. “Thanks again for looking after my stuff.”
“...No problem,” Chad shrugged.
Ichigo paused at the elevators and checked the floor number for Captain Kagine’s office. “Where’s the Homicide Division?”
“7th floor... I think,” Chad bowed his head slightly to prevent from hitting the elevator ceiling as they entered.
“Did your roommate complain about the boxes?” Ichigo asked as the digital numbers on the wall counted up.
Chad thought about the 2 hour tirade he had to listen to last night, “...not much...”
“Great. Well,” Ichigo got off on the 7th floor. “See you later.”
A large, dark hand suddenly reached out to keep the door from sliding shut. “Ichigo.”
“You know me, Chad,” Ichigo looked back and met his gaze with an arrogant grin, “I’ll avoid trouble as long as it doesn’t come looking for me.”
Chad nodded with an expression akin to relief as he let the elevator door close.
~*~*~
Captain Kagine’s office was dull and spare, except for the 3 high school rugby trophies on the far shelf and a framed photo of his chubby pre-teen niece. There wasn’t anything interesting for Ichigo to focus on as Kagine lectured him on the goals and expectations of the police force.
The captain certainly resembled a 3-time high school rugby champ. He had an angular chin, broad shoulders, and arms thick enough to nearly tear at the uniform. Ichigo was idly worried that the captain would flex his muscles in that 2-sizes too tight shirt and send buttons ricocheting in every direction. Someone could lose an eye that way.
“...is that understood?” Captain Kagine concluded in his booming voice.
Ichigo blinked the glaze out of his eyes, “Yea – I mean, yes, sir.”
Captain frowned at him for a long moment, his beady eyes narrowing skeptically, “Right. Well, Detective Kurosaki, let’s go introduce you to your new partner so she can brief you on your first case.”
As Ichigo followed Kagine out of the office and down the sparse, white corridors, he was struck by a sudden surge of victory. No more Kanonji to order him around and call him ‘boy’ or worse – his 'precious pupil.' Ichigo grinned slightly in relief. After all these years, he finally had a career that garnered respect.
“Well, if it isn’t the guy on TV!” a voice down the hall called out, “Don Kanonji’s little psychic minion!”
“No way. It can’t be...” Ichigo halted in his tracks and turned towards the voice. It had been years and his memory wasn’t exactly the sharpest around, but he could still recognize that sarcastic tone.
“Oh, there you are. We were looking for you.” Captain Kagine turned back to Ichigo and jerked a thumb in the direction of the one who just made that ‘psychic minion’ crack. “Detective Kurosaki, I’d like you to meet Detective Arisawa.”
“It’s been a long time, Ichigo,” Arisawa Tatsuki walked up to him with smirk on her lips. “I guess I should be surprised to see you joining the force... but I'm not, really.”
She wore the pressed blue uniform of an officer of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. Her hair was still short and spiky as he last remembered. A gut feeling told him that, if she ever truly felt like it, she could still break his jaw with a single punch – just like in the good old days. “It seems that you’re going to be my new partner,” that sardonic look never left her face. “What an honor.”
“Oh, hell...” Ichigo was stunned. No matter how hard he tried to make a new life for himself, his old life kept ambushing him from unseen corners.
~*~*~
Ichigo tried to get comfortable in his new office... which wasn’t much of a “office” at all, merely a steel desk in a gray room that managed to have a dozen similar desks crammed inside. Each one was occupied by a detective in the Unusual Death Department of the Homicide Division. It wasn’t a particularly glamorous or impressive way to start out, but Ichigo figured that beggars can’t be choosers.
Tatsuki stretched out in the old, padded chair and put her feet up on her desk, which happened to be the one that faced Ichigo. She had a manila folder on her lap but she didn’t seem ready to open it yet.
First, she had a small interrogation to conduct. She hadn’t seen or heard much from Ichigo since their high school graduation, which was fine because life did that sort of thing. It wasn’t like she had made an effort to keep in contact with him either.
However, when she heard recent news that he had not only been in the employ pseudo-psychic Don Kanonji and also managed to get hired by the MPD as a professional spirit medium, well... two things weighed heavily on her mind.
“I know what you’re going to say, so don’t bother,” Ichigo grumbled. “Yeah, I admit I lied about not being able to see ghosts, but give me a break – I was only 9 at that time and I had enough trouble trying to fit in with this weird hair color. I didn’t want to become the next Haley Joel Osment, you know?” He paused before he remembered to add, “Sorry.”
Tatsuki nodded, easily accepting the apology, “There’s one other thing–”
“-Why did I work for Kanonji?” Ichigo finished for her. “Long story... let’s just say it was a stupid decision and I never want to speak of it again.”
“Hell, you really are psychic,” her eyebrows rose, impressed.
“Nah, that wasn’t supernatural power,” Ichigo leaned back in his chair. “You’re just being predictable.” He ducked the coffee mug that she flung at his head, causing it to shatter against the wall behind him. Several other people who occupied the same division office looked up from their work to see if a fight was breaking out. “See what I mean?”
“Point taken,” Tatsuki dropped the matter, realizing that Ichigo’s personality never changed much since high school graduation – which was a relief, actually. She tossed the manila folder onto Ichigo’s desk. “Take a look – it’s our first case.”
Ichigo flipped open the folder and immediately regretted doing so. The black and red glossy photos contained inside made his stomach flip over and bile rise up in the back of his throat. “This is sick!” he slammed the folder shut with a bang.
Tatsuki favored him with a dry look, “If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kitchen.”
“Shut up,” Ichigo snapped. “Anybody would react badly to that. Those... those pictures are –”
“You think the pictures are gross enough?” Tatsuki's eyes narrowed. “At least you weren’t the first officer on the scene. The smell was unbearable.”
He looked up in surprise, “You were...”
“Yeah,” she sat back. “Up until 2 days ago, I was an officer of squad 17. We patrolled the Shinjuku area – mostly in the commercial district, near the JR train station. I discovered the body last Friday. Since it’s the 3rd case my squad has discovered in as many weeks, Captain Kagine granted me a trial period as a rookie detective and put me on this case immediately. It wasn’t until this morning that I found out I’m being partnered with a damn fortune-teller.”
Ichigo scowled, “Tatsuki, I’m not a –”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’d be too convenient if you really were one. You could just peek in a magic 8 ball and give me all the answers,” she shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure you understood that I’ve got the pride of my former squad as well as my career riding on this case. So don’t screw it up.”
“Hey,” he sat up and leaned forward, laying the palms of his hands flat on the desktop, “You’re not the only one who has their ass on the line. If I screw up, they won’t give me a second chance – I get fired. I’d probably end up working for Kanonji again or worse... if there is anything worse.”
“Good,” Tatsuki smirked. “Then we’re both aware of what’s at stake. So listen carefully... I’m going to brief you on this case that we, down at squad 17, have been calling one of the ‘wild hits.’”
“‘Wild hits’?” Ichigo asked.
“Recently, whenever we find a murder scene like this,” she nodded to the closed file on Ichigo’s desk, “we call it a ‘wild hit.’ It’s basically a name we give to these sort of random, inexplicable, and completely inhuman serial murders. The commissioner and the other high-ups are scared of the media catching wind of this and they’re desperate to prevent more incidents... which could probably explain why they resorted to hiring a –”
“Get on with it,” he interrupted.
“In each case,” Tatsuki switched tracks easily, “there was no sign of forced entry, no probability of suicide, no common factors between the victims... not even a sign that this was committed by anything human. It’s like a wild animal with huge claws waltzed in, mauled the victim, and waltzed right back out – with the door locked, mind you.”
“Still, did you check out the possibility of it being an animal?” Ichigo asked, half-serious.
“Actually, we have,” she opened a drawer, and ran her slim hand along the small stack of files before lifting out the thinnest one and handing it to Ichigo.
He held it cautiously, giving her a suspicious look.
Tatsuki put her hands up in appeasement. “No bloody photos. Scout’s honor.”
He flipped through the file as Tatsuki explained its contents. “Thanks to the autopsies of all the victims, the animals had to be extremely strong with sharp teeth and claws – like a bear or tiger. Even then, they’d have to be the kind of mutated ones you’d only see in horror flicks.”
“No zoo escapees?” Ichigo asked as he paused on a page and skimmed its contents. “Other than freaks like Kanonji, I mean,” he added under his breath.
“Nope, nothing sensational,” she sighed. “If you ever bother to visit the Ueno Zoo at the other side of town, you’ll see that the ‘dangerous’ animals there aren’t all that energetic or blood-thirsty anyhow. I bet most of them are de-clawed and pumped with sedatives,” she rolled her eyes at that thought. “Plus, there isn’t any evidence that an animal had been around at the time of the murders – unless you count Tama, the tabby cat that one of the earlier ‘wild hit’ victims had as a pet. Otherwise, no fur, no markings, and as I’ve said before – no signs of forced entry. It’s a dead lead.”
“No pun intended, right?” Ichigo asked as he put the thin folder down and reached for the thicker one again. He wasn’t eager to reopen it, but he needed to take a closer look at the victim’s wounds. “Why do you think this wasn’t done by a person?”
“Take a close look at the victim’s back,” she told him, looking away from the file.
“Hell...” Ichigo flinched. “The flesh got torn right off...” he took a calming breath, picked up the photo, and peered closer. “The shape of the wounds... what could have made that? Some sort of machine?”
“That’s what we’ve got to find out,” Tatsuki said and paused. “There’s one last thing... according to forensics, the victims died of natural causes.”
“You’re shitting me,” he frowned in disbelief.
“No, I’m serious,” she insisted. “Mangle bodies were found, but the only cause of death they could figure out is that their hearts just stopped beating.”
"Look," Tatsuki raised her fist and ticked each point off her fingers one by one, “No bruises or discoloration to indicate asphyxiation. The torn flesh – although excessive – wasn’t enough to kill the victim outright. No internal injuries, stab wounds, or poisons. No signs of struggle. The autopsies from each isolated incident have the same results: the victim died instantly upon contact with the killer. Doesn't make sense, does it?”
She paused, letting Ichigo think this over. Finally, she asked, “Is there anything your so-called ‘paranormal abilities’ can do to help?”
Ichigo closed the thick file carefully and held it up in his hands with a thoughtful scowl, “Usually, murder victims, suicides, and other people with bad earthly business try to stick around the site of his or her death for a while, before they disappear – go to heaven or hell or wherever.”
“You mean,” Tatsuki’s eyebrow flicked up in curiosity, “you don’t know where dead people go?”
“I’ve never bothered to ask them about that. It’s none of my business until my own time comes,” he shrugged his shoulders and then gave her a determined look. “Listen, if the victim is still around, I think I’ll be able to interview her.”
“Weird game plan... but hey, better than nothing,” she thought over. “What if the victim’s soul, or whatever, is gone?”
“I don’t know. That would be... strange,” he frowned. “I mean, would you go to heaven right after someone murders you - or would you stick around and bitch about it to whoever can listen?”
“I’d probably stay and bitch about it,” Tatsuki smiled grimly as she got out of her chair. “Well, since we’re on the same page, let’s drive over to the scene of the most recent case and see if you can do your voodoo thing there. You can read the rest of the file in the car.”
Ichigo stood up with the file of the latest ‘wild hit’ held loosely in his hands, as if he didn’t really want to hold it. “What, I’m not driving?”
“Hell, no. I’ve got seniority – I drive,” Tatsuki jingled the car keys in her trouser pocket and walked out of the office.
“You’ve only been a detective for 2 days more than me,” Ichigo followed her into the hallway.
“That’s still seniority,” she shot back over her shoulder.
“Hell, I’m 2 days older than you – that’s seniority,” Ichigo matched pace with her as they headed for the elevator. “I’ll drive. You can read the file out to me.”
Tatsuki gave him a disgusted look, “Hell, no. I won’t flip through that thing if I don’t have to – read it your own damn self.”
Ichigo turned away and crossed his arms, irate. He wondered how long they would need to work together - or if they would beat each other into a pulp before they could close this case. It’s one thing to be childhood friends and old sparring buddies; it’s another thing to be partners.
~*~*~
Chapter 3: Broken Chain
Kanonji returns, Ichigo & Tatsuki dive into the case, and Chad’s obnoxious roommate knows something that they don't!
Note: To be honest, I don't really know where Tokyo Police Headquarters is - I just said it was near Shibuya station because it seemed likely. ^_^;;
So, anyway... should I continue with the way this is going? I'll try hard to downplay the "CSI: Miami" influences from now on...
Chapter 2: Renewal
Ichigo doesn’t dream. He stopped having those things nearly 5 years ago.
Of course, he didn’t notice it at first. It was just that one day, while talking to a dream interpreter during one of Don Kanonji’s ‘social gatherings,’ he was asked what his most recent dreams were like.
Ichigo thought about it seriously, but after 2 glasses of brandy and 10 minutes of hard thought, he still came up with nothing. No nightmares, none of those crazy dreams of dancing purple turkeys, not even pleasant ones about secluded beaches at sunset... nothing..
The realization bothered Ichigo. He didn’t particularly like dreaming in the first place, but it was always good know he was capable of it, like any normal person. He asked the dream interpreter what that meant. He half-expected her to say that he couldn’t dream because he had no sense of imagination left, or that they were probably too boring to remember.
Instead, the lady tapped her silvery-blue painted fingernails twice against her lips, which formed a small ‘o’ of amazement, “It must mean that you’ve developed your psychic abilities to the point that you can no longer dream! If you do envision anything in a dream state, it will most likely be a premonition instead. Only high level psychics can do that! Oh, how impressive, Mr. Kurosaki!”
This reinforced Ichigo’s belief that all of this New Age stuff was a crock of bull.
So he doesn’t care that he doesn’t dream. Nor does he know that the lady from years ago had spoken the truth.
He never dreams anymore.
He has premonitions.
~*~*~
Ichigo made it to Shibuya station by 8 o’clock and sped down the steps to reach the Hachikou exit. Once outside, he spotted Chad in the middle of the morning crowd, waiting for him.
Chad wasn’t a hard guy to spot. He had a naturally dark tan with shaggy brown hair. Plus, he was nearly two heads taller than most people in Tokyo, including the foreigners. He stood out like a corn stalk in a field of cut grass. The police uniform he wore certainly helped too. It had to be custom tailored to his size, but it was a nice fit and gave an air of authority to an otherwise soft-spoken guy.
Ichigo pushed through the morning crowd until he reached Chad’s side. “Sorry I’m late,” he was breathing hard from his sprint from the train platform to the street. “It’s a long commute from Karakura.”
Together, they headed toward a nearby skyscraper marked with the Tokyo MPD emblem on its doors. Ichigo, who wore a black suit and trench coat, resembled a hair-bleached gangster being taken in for questioning. Luckily, with a reliable-looking cop like Chad beside him, no one bothered them with a second glance.
Chad peered down at him through his long bangs and asked, “...How’s your family?”
“Insane,” Ichigo said as they walked into the lobby of Tokyo Police Headquarters together. “Thanks again for looking after my stuff.”
“...No problem,” Chad shrugged.
Ichigo paused at the elevators and checked the floor number for Captain Kagine’s office. “Where’s the Homicide Division?”
“7th floor... I think,” Chad bowed his head slightly to prevent from hitting the elevator ceiling as they entered.
“Did your roommate complain about the boxes?” Ichigo asked as the digital numbers on the wall counted up.
Chad thought about the 2 hour tirade he had to listen to last night, “...not much...”
“Great. Well,” Ichigo got off on the 7th floor. “See you later.”
A large, dark hand suddenly reached out to keep the door from sliding shut. “Ichigo.”
“You know me, Chad,” Ichigo looked back and met his gaze with an arrogant grin, “I’ll avoid trouble as long as it doesn’t come looking for me.”
Chad nodded with an expression akin to relief as he let the elevator door close.
~*~*~
Captain Kagine’s office was dull and spare, except for the 3 high school rugby trophies on the far shelf and a framed photo of his chubby pre-teen niece. There wasn’t anything interesting for Ichigo to focus on as Kagine lectured him on the goals and expectations of the police force.
The captain certainly resembled a 3-time high school rugby champ. He had an angular chin, broad shoulders, and arms thick enough to nearly tear at the uniform. Ichigo was idly worried that the captain would flex his muscles in that 2-sizes too tight shirt and send buttons ricocheting in every direction. Someone could lose an eye that way.
“...is that understood?” Captain Kagine concluded in his booming voice.
Ichigo blinked the glaze out of his eyes, “Yea – I mean, yes, sir.”
Captain frowned at him for a long moment, his beady eyes narrowing skeptically, “Right. Well, Detective Kurosaki, let’s go introduce you to your new partner so she can brief you on your first case.”
As Ichigo followed Kagine out of the office and down the sparse, white corridors, he was struck by a sudden surge of victory. No more Kanonji to order him around and call him ‘boy’ or worse – his 'precious pupil.' Ichigo grinned slightly in relief. After all these years, he finally had a career that garnered respect.
“Well, if it isn’t the guy on TV!” a voice down the hall called out, “Don Kanonji’s little psychic minion!”
“No way. It can’t be...” Ichigo halted in his tracks and turned towards the voice. It had been years and his memory wasn’t exactly the sharpest around, but he could still recognize that sarcastic tone.
“Oh, there you are. We were looking for you.” Captain Kagine turned back to Ichigo and jerked a thumb in the direction of the one who just made that ‘psychic minion’ crack. “Detective Kurosaki, I’d like you to meet Detective Arisawa.”
“It’s been a long time, Ichigo,” Arisawa Tatsuki walked up to him with smirk on her lips. “I guess I should be surprised to see you joining the force... but I'm not, really.”
She wore the pressed blue uniform of an officer of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. Her hair was still short and spiky as he last remembered. A gut feeling told him that, if she ever truly felt like it, she could still break his jaw with a single punch – just like in the good old days. “It seems that you’re going to be my new partner,” that sardonic look never left her face. “What an honor.”
“Oh, hell...” Ichigo was stunned. No matter how hard he tried to make a new life for himself, his old life kept ambushing him from unseen corners.
~*~*~
Ichigo tried to get comfortable in his new office... which wasn’t much of a “office” at all, merely a steel desk in a gray room that managed to have a dozen similar desks crammed inside. Each one was occupied by a detective in the Unusual Death Department of the Homicide Division. It wasn’t a particularly glamorous or impressive way to start out, but Ichigo figured that beggars can’t be choosers.
Tatsuki stretched out in the old, padded chair and put her feet up on her desk, which happened to be the one that faced Ichigo. She had a manila folder on her lap but she didn’t seem ready to open it yet.
First, she had a small interrogation to conduct. She hadn’t seen or heard much from Ichigo since their high school graduation, which was fine because life did that sort of thing. It wasn’t like she had made an effort to keep in contact with him either.
However, when she heard recent news that he had not only been in the employ pseudo-psychic Don Kanonji and also managed to get hired by the MPD as a professional spirit medium, well... two things weighed heavily on her mind.
“I know what you’re going to say, so don’t bother,” Ichigo grumbled. “Yeah, I admit I lied about not being able to see ghosts, but give me a break – I was only 9 at that time and I had enough trouble trying to fit in with this weird hair color. I didn’t want to become the next Haley Joel Osment, you know?” He paused before he remembered to add, “Sorry.”
Tatsuki nodded, easily accepting the apology, “There’s one other thing–”
“-Why did I work for Kanonji?” Ichigo finished for her. “Long story... let’s just say it was a stupid decision and I never want to speak of it again.”
“Hell, you really are psychic,” her eyebrows rose, impressed.
“Nah, that wasn’t supernatural power,” Ichigo leaned back in his chair. “You’re just being predictable.” He ducked the coffee mug that she flung at his head, causing it to shatter against the wall behind him. Several other people who occupied the same division office looked up from their work to see if a fight was breaking out. “See what I mean?”
“Point taken,” Tatsuki dropped the matter, realizing that Ichigo’s personality never changed much since high school graduation – which was a relief, actually. She tossed the manila folder onto Ichigo’s desk. “Take a look – it’s our first case.”
Ichigo flipped open the folder and immediately regretted doing so. The black and red glossy photos contained inside made his stomach flip over and bile rise up in the back of his throat. “This is sick!” he slammed the folder shut with a bang.
Tatsuki favored him with a dry look, “If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kitchen.”
“Shut up,” Ichigo snapped. “Anybody would react badly to that. Those... those pictures are –”
“You think the pictures are gross enough?” Tatsuki's eyes narrowed. “At least you weren’t the first officer on the scene. The smell was unbearable.”
He looked up in surprise, “You were...”
“Yeah,” she sat back. “Up until 2 days ago, I was an officer of squad 17. We patrolled the Shinjuku area – mostly in the commercial district, near the JR train station. I discovered the body last Friday. Since it’s the 3rd case my squad has discovered in as many weeks, Captain Kagine granted me a trial period as a rookie detective and put me on this case immediately. It wasn’t until this morning that I found out I’m being partnered with a damn fortune-teller.”
Ichigo scowled, “Tatsuki, I’m not a –”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’d be too convenient if you really were one. You could just peek in a magic 8 ball and give me all the answers,” she shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure you understood that I’ve got the pride of my former squad as well as my career riding on this case. So don’t screw it up.”
“Hey,” he sat up and leaned forward, laying the palms of his hands flat on the desktop, “You’re not the only one who has their ass on the line. If I screw up, they won’t give me a second chance – I get fired. I’d probably end up working for Kanonji again or worse... if there is anything worse.”
“Good,” Tatsuki smirked. “Then we’re both aware of what’s at stake. So listen carefully... I’m going to brief you on this case that we, down at squad 17, have been calling one of the ‘wild hits.’”
“‘Wild hits’?” Ichigo asked.
“Recently, whenever we find a murder scene like this,” she nodded to the closed file on Ichigo’s desk, “we call it a ‘wild hit.’ It’s basically a name we give to these sort of random, inexplicable, and completely inhuman serial murders. The commissioner and the other high-ups are scared of the media catching wind of this and they’re desperate to prevent more incidents... which could probably explain why they resorted to hiring a –”
“Get on with it,” he interrupted.
“In each case,” Tatsuki switched tracks easily, “there was no sign of forced entry, no probability of suicide, no common factors between the victims... not even a sign that this was committed by anything human. It’s like a wild animal with huge claws waltzed in, mauled the victim, and waltzed right back out – with the door locked, mind you.”
“Still, did you check out the possibility of it being an animal?” Ichigo asked, half-serious.
“Actually, we have,” she opened a drawer, and ran her slim hand along the small stack of files before lifting out the thinnest one and handing it to Ichigo.
He held it cautiously, giving her a suspicious look.
Tatsuki put her hands up in appeasement. “No bloody photos. Scout’s honor.”
He flipped through the file as Tatsuki explained its contents. “Thanks to the autopsies of all the victims, the animals had to be extremely strong with sharp teeth and claws – like a bear or tiger. Even then, they’d have to be the kind of mutated ones you’d only see in horror flicks.”
“No zoo escapees?” Ichigo asked as he paused on a page and skimmed its contents. “Other than freaks like Kanonji, I mean,” he added under his breath.
“Nope, nothing sensational,” she sighed. “If you ever bother to visit the Ueno Zoo at the other side of town, you’ll see that the ‘dangerous’ animals there aren’t all that energetic or blood-thirsty anyhow. I bet most of them are de-clawed and pumped with sedatives,” she rolled her eyes at that thought. “Plus, there isn’t any evidence that an animal had been around at the time of the murders – unless you count Tama, the tabby cat that one of the earlier ‘wild hit’ victims had as a pet. Otherwise, no fur, no markings, and as I’ve said before – no signs of forced entry. It’s a dead lead.”
“No pun intended, right?” Ichigo asked as he put the thin folder down and reached for the thicker one again. He wasn’t eager to reopen it, but he needed to take a closer look at the victim’s wounds. “Why do you think this wasn’t done by a person?”
“Take a close look at the victim’s back,” she told him, looking away from the file.
“Hell...” Ichigo flinched. “The flesh got torn right off...” he took a calming breath, picked up the photo, and peered closer. “The shape of the wounds... what could have made that? Some sort of machine?”
“That’s what we’ve got to find out,” Tatsuki said and paused. “There’s one last thing... according to forensics, the victims died of natural causes.”
“You’re shitting me,” he frowned in disbelief.
“No, I’m serious,” she insisted. “Mangle bodies were found, but the only cause of death they could figure out is that their hearts just stopped beating.”
"Look," Tatsuki raised her fist and ticked each point off her fingers one by one, “No bruises or discoloration to indicate asphyxiation. The torn flesh – although excessive – wasn’t enough to kill the victim outright. No internal injuries, stab wounds, or poisons. No signs of struggle. The autopsies from each isolated incident have the same results: the victim died instantly upon contact with the killer. Doesn't make sense, does it?”
She paused, letting Ichigo think this over. Finally, she asked, “Is there anything your so-called ‘paranormal abilities’ can do to help?”
Ichigo closed the thick file carefully and held it up in his hands with a thoughtful scowl, “Usually, murder victims, suicides, and other people with bad earthly business try to stick around the site of his or her death for a while, before they disappear – go to heaven or hell or wherever.”
“You mean,” Tatsuki’s eyebrow flicked up in curiosity, “you don’t know where dead people go?”
“I’ve never bothered to ask them about that. It’s none of my business until my own time comes,” he shrugged his shoulders and then gave her a determined look. “Listen, if the victim is still around, I think I’ll be able to interview her.”
“Weird game plan... but hey, better than nothing,” she thought over. “What if the victim’s soul, or whatever, is gone?”
“I don’t know. That would be... strange,” he frowned. “I mean, would you go to heaven right after someone murders you - or would you stick around and bitch about it to whoever can listen?”
“I’d probably stay and bitch about it,” Tatsuki smiled grimly as she got out of her chair. “Well, since we’re on the same page, let’s drive over to the scene of the most recent case and see if you can do your voodoo thing there. You can read the rest of the file in the car.”
Ichigo stood up with the file of the latest ‘wild hit’ held loosely in his hands, as if he didn’t really want to hold it. “What, I’m not driving?”
“Hell, no. I’ve got seniority – I drive,” Tatsuki jingled the car keys in her trouser pocket and walked out of the office.
“You’ve only been a detective for 2 days more than me,” Ichigo followed her into the hallway.
“That’s still seniority,” she shot back over her shoulder.
“Hell, I’m 2 days older than you – that’s seniority,” Ichigo matched pace with her as they headed for the elevator. “I’ll drive. You can read the file out to me.”
Tatsuki gave him a disgusted look, “Hell, no. I won’t flip through that thing if I don’t have to – read it your own damn self.”
Ichigo turned away and crossed his arms, irate. He wondered how long they would need to work together - or if they would beat each other into a pulp before they could close this case. It’s one thing to be childhood friends and old sparring buddies; it’s another thing to be partners.
~*~*~
Chapter 3: Broken Chain
Kanonji returns, Ichigo & Tatsuki dive into the case, and Chad’s obnoxious roommate knows something that they don't!
Note: To be honest, I don't really know where Tokyo Police Headquarters is - I just said it was near Shibuya station because it seemed likely. ^_^;;
So, anyway... should I continue with the way this is going? I'll try hard to downplay the "CSI: Miami" influences from now on...