Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Blood-Riddled ❯ One-Shot
Category: Angst/Psychological/Sci-Fi
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: slight Seto/Jou, but not really noticeable
Warnings: Weird, dark, lots of blood, angst, death
This fic attempts to screw with your mind. Be warned that not everything is as it seems.
By Nozomi Aru
A curious unease with the state of the world seized him, totally different from the odd niggling at the back of his mind that had spawned from his forgotten dream. No, this strange apprehension was so intense that it was literally sickening, and Jou felt bile rise up into the back of throat at the emotion.
The sound came again.
The air in the darkened hallway felt charged, the sensation tingling sharply against the blond's skin and raising goose bumps along its path. But despite his pounding heart and his suddenly shaking limbs, Jounouchi found his bare feet trailing slowly across the chilly wooden flooring, pulling him towards what he suspected was something he desperately did not want to see.
His instinct told him not to touch anything with his bare skin, and he curled as close to his cold body as he could possible get, eyes wide. The silence in the shared apartment was almost supernatural; the cloak of senses broken by nothing, violated by nothing.
The noise that had caught his attention wasn't really a noise; nothing had pierced the air since late last night, perhaps earlier even. No, this sound reverberated in the blond's head only, and it was the reason why each footfall hesitated before being completed, why he cringed inside with every touch of bare foot on timber.
Then he was in front of the door, quaking inside, breath hitching at what he might find, what he would find. Tentatively, he unhooked one hand from where it was curled around his stomach and reached forward, the finger trembling as it approached the door.
Closer... closer...
A spark of pain lanced through him from that smallest of contact points, but the amber-eyed youth gathered his will and shoved, ripping his hand back as momentum took over for him. He was dimly aware of the trail of blood down his chin from where he'd bitten into his lip, the sensation vying for his attention with the nausea that threatened to make him sick.
Jou didn't even bother to reach up and wipe the blood away.
A metaphysical blast of icy air from inside the room hit him square in the face and made him reel at the sheer intensity of it. The sense of it was like being plunged ten feet underwater with quickly dying breath and no idea which way the surface was, and it made his heart race where it was currently lodged in his throat.
That keening wail in his head again, this time louder and more forceful as he came closer to the source; the explosive sound of a human cry echoed in his mind, made him dizzy. His hand shot out blindly as he searched for some sort of support against the ravages of the images that battered the back of his eyes mercilessly, stumbling forward and into the room that lay complacently in its black shadows.
His searching fingers found the doorframe and gripped for dear life, steadying his jittery legs as he caught his breath, his gasps echoing in the strangely hollow-sounding room. The feel of something drying and slightly crumbly beneath his fingertips jolted him to awareness, and he jerked his hand back from the wall, falling to his knees as his only support was relieved.
Dried blood.
A body lay in the middle of the room, sprawled across the crimson-stained floor; the tint would never entirely come out of the wooden paneling, no matter how hard the scrubbing.
--fear pain darkness sharp shadows blood death--
"Shizuka..."
Kaiba Seto kept one eye on the road as he drove and one eye on the brief report he'd been given, sifting absently through the small stack of papers on this newest case.
Name: Jounouchi Shizuka
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Relations: Brother, Jounouchi Katsuya, 19; all others deceased
Estimated Time of Death: Between 7 and 9 PM Saturday, August 6th
Subject was found by her older brother early this morning, who proceeded to contact 911 around 7:17 AM.
There followed the usual; school records and hospital records, and that was about it. On the top of the stack was a small, 2 x 3 1/2 wallet-sized school picture of the deceased; she was pretty enough, in a petite, schoolgirl sort of way, with reddish-brown hair that fell halfway down her back and shining hazel eyes that seemed happy and full of life.
He wondered idly who would want to kill her, then brought himself up short, focusing his concentration back on the road; It was his job to find out the answer to that question.
The blue-eyed 21-year-old turned down a short side road and pulled up next to a rather dilapidated looking apartment complex, double checking the file to make sure he had the right address. Apartment 13b of the Genso Complex, Kaijuu Avenue, Juuban District. This was it.
The moldy stair steps creaked underneath his weight as Seto climbed them up to the second floor, his mind questioning just how sturdy the flight of stairs really was before he dismissed it and pushed open the door to apartment 13b. He dropped his half-smoked cigarette and casually crushed it beneath his heel as he entered.
The inside of the place was already inhabited by a half dozen others from the PD, some of which he didn't know and some of which he wished he didn't know. A youth, whom he supposed was the 'Jounouchi Katsuya' mentioned in the file-- the deceased's big brother-- was sitting on a beaten-down old couch, golden head buried in his trembling hands. The boy looked up as Seto stepped cautiously into the living room, darkened amber eyes slightly wide and full of a pain that made the brunette glance away for a moment.
Seto could sympathize with losing a younger sibling; he had one himself, and treasured him.
Slowly, as if he were in a dream, Jounouchi Katsuya gestured dully towards the back room, before burying his head back into his hands, a silent sob wracking his body, though Seto hadn't seen any tear tracks on the blond's face a scant second ago. The brunette said nothing.
It wasn't his problem.
Seto let out an inaudible sigh and strode quickly to the bedroom, pausing just outside the door to assess the situation coolly and mechanically. The clean-up team had already removed the body after making preliminary notations, but that seemed the only thing had been changed since the initial discovery earlier that morning. Of course, Seto wouldn't swear to that-- the boy might have done something by pure ignorance-- but he had a gut feeling about these things. It was one thing that made him a great detective.
"Ah, Kaiba, glad you're finally here."
Seto showed no sign of his surprise at that all-too-familiar voice. Ice-blue eyes regarded the lithe figure of Hitokage Yami coolly as the spiky-haired detective stood from where he'd been kneeling in the middle of the room, snapping off a pair of plastic disposable gloves as he did so.
"Detective Hitokage." Seto greeted formally. Yami was literally his rival at the PD; both had gotten the highest marks possible at the Academy, and both had an uncanny way of finding things-- usually the small, overlooked things-- that would ultimately put their top suspect behind bars.
Both despised each other, but masked that animosity behind frozen masks of civility.
Yami smirked and gestured around at the whole of the room, encompassing blood-spattered walls, the red-stained cotton sheets of the bed, the bloody spot he had just been leaning over, and the open window, sky-blue curtains fluttering softly in the morning breeze. "Figured they'd call in a PI for this one." The shorter detective glanced at his watch. "What took you so long?"
Seto scowled darkly. "I had to make arrangements for Mokuba. You know that as well as I do, Hitokage-kun." Yami nodded shortly. "And what's so special about this one? I thought they'd called me in because of a lack of competent recruits."
The Hitokage's smirk widened. "Harsh, Kaiba-kun. You know, we can't all be as competent as you are. I supposed we'll just have to make do with what we've got."
"Just give me the damn report, Yami. You're wasting time."
"Touché." But, sensing that Kaiba was in no mood to beat around the bush, Yami instantly turned serious. "The bottom line is that her stomach supposedly exploded from the inside, we don't know how just yet. The girl had several deep lacerations up and down both arms, a few of them to the bone, but none in any place to make them deadly unless she waited too long to call for help and bled to death-- which Medical said she didn't. Besides those, the only marks on her body involved her eyes."
When Yami paused for a split second, Seto's own eyes darted to that unnaturally stained spot on the floor. "And?"
"They were gone."
"Gone?" A feeling of sickness began to well in Seto's stomach, but he forcibly pushed it back.
"Totally gone. Someone gouged them out."
"Someone cut out her eyes."
"Yeah. Some souvenir, huh?" Yami paused to run a hand distractedly through his spiky locks. "We got one sick bastard on our hands, Kaiba."
"And it's our job to stop him-- or her, for that matter-- before they kill again."
"Right." Yami's crimson eyes narrowed at the thought of the killer striking again in the near future. "But since you're here, and it's very obviously your show at the moment, I think I'll get back to the station. Have fun, Kaiba." He gave a little mock-salute and headed for the door.
"What?"
"Hey, I'm not the leading PI around here-- yet. And until I get a bit more freedom, it's your job to flush out the sickos involved." He paused, one hand resting lightly on the doorframe, his back towards his colleague. "I'd suggest asking the kid for information. He's got an alibi; He and Yugi were at a club until ten thirty."
Seto's eyes narrowed suspiciously. There was something else...
"I'd also take him with you."
The brunette's lips thinned. "Now, why would I do something stupid and totally against the rules like that, Yami?
"Because Yugi knows him, Seto. And Yugi wouldn't want him to be alone right now."
Cobalt eyes narrowed at the mention of Yami's younger lover, Mutoh Yugi, who was also the head of crime investigations. Yugi, young and innocent as he may seem to others, was a genius when it came to his work, and was always up-to-date on the newest technology. He would, no doubt, be doing the investigation of the autopsy of the dead girl.
Yami didn't appreciate it when others made Yugi unnecessarily worried or anxious, and he was very good at thinking up ways to make people pay for things like that. Very, very good.
Kaiba Seto had been figuratively backed into a corner.
It was now officially his problem.
_&_&_&_&_&_
"Jounouchi Katsuya?"
The blond lifted his head from his hands and looked up at him, eyes slowly focusing on the brunette's lanky form. The blond hadn't moved from his spot on the couch since Seto had arrived a half-hour ago.
Seto almost winced. The boy looked a mess; hair uncombed, skin pale, eyes dark and empty, hastily thrown-on clothing unmatched and wrinkled. Pain danced behind amber-flecked eyes. There were visible red marks from where he'd been pressing his face into his palms, and Seto noticed a Band-Aid on his bottom lip.
"Huh...?"
"Kaiba Seto, from the Tokyo PD." He clutched the paper Yami had given him before the shorter detective had left, listing the names and current addresses of the blond's friends and acquaintances. "I've been told you're to come with me to question a few of your friends."
For a moment those brown eyes cleared; a short instant that made Kaiba think that the boy wasn't all gone. But then his unease came back as he recalled Yami's words a moment ago.
"I really think the kid'll be a help to you."
"Why is that, may I ask?"
"Well... according to Yugi... he doesn't want it publicized, but he's apparently somewhat of a post-cog."
"A what?"
"He can... see things. Things that happened in the past."
"Then, when he found her..."
"Yeah."
Seto didn't believe in psychics, horoscopes, or witchcraft, but he supposed he could humor Yami for the moment. At least the blond hadn't started screaming at him that he was the devil, and to repent before his sins struck him down.
Yet.
"... Sure," the blond stood then, shaky and uncertain, but his face washed clear of his deep grief. Seto guessed he was in shock, or perhaps making himself forget about it, forget about the traumatic events until such a time as he could handle the situation without breaking down. That was fine; that was normal. Then the brunette noticed the boy's hands, shaking uncontrollably at his sides, and frowned, reaching into his back pocket.
"Here."
The 19-year-old caught the small, unmarked packet even in his daze. "...What...?"
"Paroxetine. [1] Take one, no more, and let me know if you start to feel sick."
"...Thanks." The blond downed the small pill without water, swallowed, then looked Seto straight in the eye. "But pal, I don't think it's gonna make me any sicker than I already am."
The dark-haired detective gave a short nod of understanding, then led the way out of the apartment and to his red Subaru, the younger boy trailing quietly behind him like a kicked puppy
By the time Seto pulled up to the small building in one of the worst parts of Tokyo, directed by the blond, he was beginning to wish he hadn't been so generous with the Paroxetine; the boy had been running at the mouth since approximately five minutes after he had taken the pill, when it had decided to kick in. 'Call me Jou,' he'd said between chattering.
'Language most shows a man; speak so that I may see thee.'
Jounouchi Katsuya was damn annoying.
Nonetheless, the boy had been help in locating the small establishment, tucked into a corner, where Kujaku Mai was currently employed. Seto glanced up at the sign that hung boldly over the entrance, and inwardly twitched.
The sign said simply, 'Flower', and was one of Tokyo's many Soaplands. [2]
A cute, rather perky-looking girl who couldn't have been older than her early twenties greeted them, immediately recognizing the blond.
"Oh, Jou-kun! You're here to see Mai, right? Well, she's with a customer at the moment, but don't worry, they've been in there almost an hour, and that's all he paid for." She winked at him and turned to glance inquisitively at the silent brunette.
"Thanks, Ami-chan." Jou simply nodded at the girl and found himself a seat on a red velvet couch.
Wisely, Seto decided not to comment. He thrust his hands into his pockets and prepared for a wait. It wasn't long, however, before Kujaku Mai made her grand entrance, striding through a door marked 'Private' and looking cool and classy in purple-dyed leather and knee-high boots, not something Seto would have expected from someone who had just been doing her 'job' in the privacy of a back room.
"Jou!" the--rather pretty, Seto noted-- woman sauntered to her friend's side and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek, grinning mischievously. "How ya doin', honey? Haven't seen you around lately."
Jounouchi summoned a weak grin. "Hey, Mai."
But the blond saw through the act in an instant. Violet eyes widened as Kujaku Mai took a seat next to the other blond. "Jou? What's wrong? What happened?"
Seto saw Jou's face tighten, and then the blond's eyes softened and he buried his face in the soft indigo leather on Mai's shoulder, shoulders shaking. "Shizuka... she..." his voice was muffled, and Seto turned away uncomfortably, tuning out the conversation. He could afford to let them have five minutes; Mai wasn't going anywhere.
It turned out that Kujaku Mai was more help than the brunette detective had expected; where Jou had been vague about where they could find his friends at this time on a Sunday, the blond femme fatale knew exactly where the other two names on his list could be located.
As for her alibi, Mai had been at work all of the night before until around 3 AM; the girl at the register, as well as a handful of Mai's coworkers, could vouch for her. Seto left it at that; her alibi was solid enough for the moment.
The next name on the list was Otogi Ryuuji. Both Mai and Jou had mentioned him as one of the girl's friends-- and someone who wanted to be something more. Mai had said he was highly interested in the occult, and practiced magic; a mixture of Wicca, Buddhism, and Voodoo.
She also told him that Otogi was practically obsessed with Shizuka's eyes.
'When a girl is murdered, look for her boyfriend,' Seto quipped to himself humorlessly as he followed the blond into the small game shop that Ryuuji Otogi apparently owned and operated, noting the slight smell of incense that hung in the air. It was different from cigarette smoke, but still oddly familiar to his tobacco-craving senses. It seemed Kujaku had been correct.
"Yo, Katsuya!" Was their greeting, coming from a slim youth with a fall of ebony hair and a pair of dice as an earring. A red-head in her late teens stood behind the counter, looking bored, as Otogi strode over to them. "Whose yer friend?"
Jou blinked, glancing between Ryuuji and Seto. "Er... Otogi, this is Detective Kaiba Seto. Kaiba, this is Otogi Ryuuji, a friend o' mine."
A lone black eyebrow shot up Otogi's forehead, and he paused in reaching out to shake Seto's offered hand. "'Detective'? Katsuya, you do something illegal or something?"
"Er..."
"No." Seto answered bluntly. "We're just here to ask you a few questions."
"Uh... sure, I guess." Otogi complied, taken aback. "What's this about, anyway?"
"Where were you on the night of Saturday, August 6th, Otogi-san?"
The green-haired youth looked puzzled. "Last night? I saw a movie, then met up with... a friend."
"What time did the movie start? End?"
"Seven-thirty, but I left early to get a good seat, around seven. It was over at 9:05 or so."
"Any evidence?"
"Er... no. I threw away the ticket stub and my trash in a can near the theater.... Am I in some sort of trouble? Don't I have the right to remain silent or something?"
"That's only if you're arrested. Who was your 'friend'?"
Ryuuji's grin turned a bit uncomfortable. "Huh?"
"Who did you meet up with after the movie?"
"Uh... One of my many fans. Sally, or Cindy, or something." He shrugged.
"It's 'Sandy', Ryuuji-kun!" The girl at the counter yelled, looking depressed that he'd forgotten her name.
"Yeah. Right. Sandy. I remember." He grinned sheepishly.
"And what did you two do together?"
At that, Ryuuji flushed, and the girl behind the counter frowned.
"I don't think that's any of your business, pal!"
Seto ignored her, but didn't repeat the question.
"Yeah, well, with the way Shizuka-chan's been avoiding me lately, I had to find a substitute for my attentions, eh, Katsuya?" Ryuuji declared whimsically, throwing a companionable arm around Jou's shoulders.
--obsession fear heart beating in his chest shouting cursing pain blood--
Out of nowhere, Jou flinched and curled up, gasping for breath and fingers clutching his sides. Seto took a step toward the twitching blond as Otogi backed away from Jou. The blond nearly fell forwards, except Seto was there to catch him, a hand on each shoulder to steady him. The brunette used one hand to tilt the blond's head up, and he saw that Jou was open-mouthed, trying to say something, and his eyes were cloudy and dark. Seto gave the boy a quick once over, then blanched.
Bright red blood was slowly seeping out from beneath the blond's fingernails. All of them.
--Damn it, stay still!
It hurts! Stop it!--
Jou's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment longer, and then he choked one strained syllable. "Blood..."
Seto jumped on the word. "'Blood'? You saw blood?" He glanced sharply at Ryuuji.
Otogi looked vaguely guilty. "Er... Blood?" The word came out as a squeak.
"Yeah!" Sandy called, looking irritated. "That's because the damn bastard bit me!"
"Where?"
It was the redhead's turn to flush. "It's... a bit personal..."
Well then.
"'Where was I last night'? Is something wrong? Jou?" Honda Hiroto looked pointedly at his best friend.
"Just answer the question, buddy. I'll tell ya all 'bout it later, kay?" The blond flashed his best smile at Honda, hands stuffed in his pockets as casually as possible. He didn't want Honda to see the mess of bandages his hands were; after quickly leaving Otogi's store, Detective Kaiba had helped him carefully wrap his bleeding fingers in gauze. The brunette hadn't said a single word to him since then; hadn't even looked at him.
He supposed he had scared away Seto Kaiba the same way he'd scared away most of his other so-called 'friends'. He always been able to see the past by touching certain things, but what had happened earlier had been so forceful he'd almost passed out right there. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he guessed it might have something to do with...
His mind told him not to go there, not to dwell on his sister's death, that it would hurt too much, but he ignored it-- and found that it didn't hurt, didn't stab him like a physical thing; not this time. It only ached, and even that felt almost as if it was somebody else's ache, and not his. It must be whatever Kaiba had given him earlier; it dulled his pain, made it hard to concentrate.
It also made it so much easier to don a mask so like his usual self that it fooled even his best friend.
He'd never bled before, from a vision. His fingers ached dully.
He wondered if he was going crazy.
"Well, we had football practice until around six-thirty or seven, and then the whole team went to a bar. We must have been there three or four hours, right, Ryou?" Honda answered, deferring to the silver-haired boy standing calmly next to him.
"That's correct." Ryou answered, a smile on his lips.
"And you are...?" Seto asked, looking at the effeminate youth dryly.
"Bakura Ryou. Nice to meet you." He nodded towards the detective, then smiled cheerfully at Jou. "Hello, Jounouchi-kun. How are you and your sister doing?"
The blond stiffened the slightest bit, then relaxed back into his casual pose. "Fine, thanks. You?"
"Oh, just great."
Discreetly rolling his eyes, Seto interrupted. "And how do you know Jounouchi Shizuka, Hiroto-san?"
"Me? Well, she's Jou's sister. I'd seen her around when I first met Jou, and then got to know her a little better. She's a great girl." A trace of a blush could be seen on Honda's cheeks. "Very pretty. But I think she likes Otogi more than me."
"Implying?"
"Hm? Oh, she's nice and all, and I like her a lot, but I don't think she's ready for me just yet." He joked, striking what he obviously thought was a 'studly' pose.
Ryou's warm brown eyes flashed for just an instant before he looked down, his strangely silver hair hiding his face. Odd, that hair; Seto had heard there was some sort of recessive gene in those with Irish ancestry that could make one's hair go completely white at an early age, but he'd never witnessed it. Ryou was obviously living proof of that fact. [3]
"May I ask why you went with Honda-san's team to that bar last night, Bakura-san?"
The boy looked even more feminine when he blushed. "I sort of... invited myself."
"Yeah, and then you left me there." Honda groused. "I had to call a cab to get home, and waste money I could have used for other things."
"I said I'm sorry, didn't I? What more do you want?" Ryou's eyes flashed a second time, the edges of his mouth twitching up just the slightest bit. "Besides, I was bored, listening to you blab about that stupid wench for hours on end. Why don't you pay attention to someone else for once?" It was obvious to Seto that the boy's thoughts figured himself as the 'someone else'.
Honda looked affronted, and confused. "Ryou, I--"
The shorter boy cut him off smoothly. "Oh, it's no big deal. Don't worry about it." He smiled comfortingly, the epitome of politeness, but the sick feeling that had knotted in Seto's stomach was not relieved. In fact, it became just a tiny bit worse.
He did not trust Bakura Ryou one bit.
"Well?" Seto questioned, making sure to look casual as he leaned against his Subaru, smoking a stick of Mild Seven he had bought from a vending machine outside of the college. He glanced piercingly at Jou, who was shifting from foot to foot, full to the brim with nervous energy, amber eyes darting around everywhere, landing on everything except for Kaiba's casual form. The blond had already wolfed down the sandwich, chips and can of soda Seto had lent him the money for.
"I did what you asked..."
Kaiba said nothing to that all-too-obvious remark, but-- strangely-- let the blond take his time.
"I touched him and... there was blood... and pain..." the blond swallowed thickly, "...but I could see more, and it was only that he'd broken someone's nose during practice last week... but there was so much blood..." He looked down, voice rough.
"Accidentally or purposefully?"
Jou's eyes darkened. "What the hell do you think?! I don't make a habit of making friends with murderers, detective! It was an accident, you bastard! I could feel his guilt!"
Seto sighed and dropped his mostly-smoked cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot heel as he pushed himself off of the car. It seemed the blond didn't make a habit of making friends at all; these three were the only people Jou'd written down for Yami earlier. Seto seemed to be at an impasse, but the brunette had one more trick up his sleeve before he decided to reinvestigate the blond's small circle of friends. He took out his cell phone and quick-dialed a number, letting it ring two times before it was picked up.
"Tokyo Police Department, Information Desk, Masaki Anzu speaking."
"Masaki, I need a favor."
"Set? Hi! What can I do for you today? How's the investigation coming along? Or are you busy?"
"Not now, Masaki. I need everything you've got on Bakura Ryou, and I need it five minutes ago."
"Gotcha, Seto!" The brunette could hear Anzu's fingers begin to busily tap away on the computer keyboard. "I'll get back to you ASAP on that one!"
"Right." He hung up, somewhat disconcerted to find Jou noticeably closer to him than the blond had been a few seconds ago.
"What was that about, Seto? Whaddaya got against Bakura?"
"I just want a bit of background info." He answered shortly, narrowing his eyes at the blond's informal use of his first name. When had that started? And why hadn't he noticed it before? "It never hurts to be prepared."
"Hey you guys!" Ryou jogged up to the two, smiling cheerily and clutching a schoolbag. Jou grinned in welcome, muttering an ''ey, Bakura'. "Are you waiting for Honda?"
"Naw." Jou scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Just hangin' fer awhile."
"Really? Then I had better get back to the field. We're supposed to meet up."
"Hold on a second." Seto said, voice quiet, but forceful. Ryou stilled, spun slowly around to face him again, and cocked his head to the side, chocolate eyes narrowing, and-- Kaiba could have sworn they gained a slightly reddish tint. Warning bells rang loudly in Seto's head, insisting to his readily agreeing mind that Bakura Ryou Is Dangerous. "I'd like to ask you a few questions."
"Is something the matter, Detective? Does this have something to do with the questions you asked Honda earlier? Oh, I do hope we haven't gotten ourselves in trouble somehow..."
"What sort of trouble do you think you'd be in?" Seto asked coldly, leaning forwards.
"Well, I..."
"Aw, he wouldn't be in trouble; not really, would he, Seto?" Jou drawled, glaring at the detective. "I mean, c'mon, this is sweet, way-too-polite Ryou we're talkin' 'bout here. The only creepy thing he's done is wear those preppy clothes of his, and stalk Honda, huh?" The brunette tensed as the blond flung a companionable arm around Ryou, and he saw Ryou do the same-- what?
Jou's eyes rolled back into his head and the blond's knees gave way, just as Seto edged towards him, preparing for just that situation. The cobalt-eyed youth deftly caught the post-cog as he collapsed towards the sidewalk; Bakura Ryou made no move to interfere either way.
The blond's eyes snapped open as Seto was reaching for his cell phone, and the brunette grimaced as the phone rang in his ear, supporting Jou on the amber-eyed youth's shaky legs as he answered.
"Kaiba Seto."
"Set? It's Anzu. I've found what you wanted."
"Yeah?"
"Well, there's quite a bit here; you know, medical records and stuff, the usual. But then it starts to get interesting towards the bottom. It's seems your Bakura Ryou has some sort of split personality disorder; one's obscenely nice while the other's something of a psychotic, claiming to be a few millennia old. He's seen a couple of shrinks, but none of them seem to help. Records pretty clean, though, nothing too big."
"Right. Thanks. I'll get back to you later, Masaki."
"Be careful, Set."
"I will."
He slipped the cell back into his pocket, and became aware that Jou was shivering violently in his arms. "Jou?"
"....Seto." That voice was broken, rough. "My hands... Oh god, my hands--"
Seto looked down, and wished that he hadn't. The sickness in his stomach came back.
Jou's hands were covered in blood, the bandages soaked a bright crimson.
His hands were bleeding from their very pores.
Footsteps approached, and the brunette looked up, meeting red-tinged brown eyes and an arrogant smirk.
"My name is Bakura. I would suggest you come with me." Not-Ryou told him calmly, making it clear that his invitation was solely for Kaiba. "I'd like to show you something."
Seto dropped a near-hysterical Jou back at his apartment with the remaining detectives still there, and followed Bakura Ryou to his house.
What he found there made him sick.
"Jou?"
At Seto's voice, the blond looked up from where he'd been staring at his hands. Someone-- he didn't remember who, it was all sort of fuzzy and inconsequential from about the time he'd touched Ryou onward-- had been kind enough to help him wrap his hands so they wouldn't bleed any more than they already had. He pushed himself up into a sitting position on his bed as the dark-eyed detective approached him.
"Yeah?"
"...Are you all right?"
Jou summoned up a weak glare; the best he could do right then, because the pill Seto had given him had begun to wear off.
"Stupid question, huh?
"Yeah."
"...I went to Bakura's."
"I know."
Seto hesitated, then sat down lightly on the bed. He couldn't shake the image that he'd seen there. It was one thing to be told someone had an obsession for blood and raw meat, to know Bakura enjoyed the feeling of blood running over his hands and through his fingers.
It was another thing entirely to see the rows and rows of nothing but uncooked beef in the large refrigerator, the cutting board and stainless steel carving knife lying on the kitchen counter stained with cow blood; to smell the stench of chopped raw meat in the trash, uneaten and unused for anything but someone's sick pleasure.
"I'll only ask you once to stay away from Honda. He's ours, and we won't allow another to touch him."
Seto shuddered. And then there had been the call from Anzu, saying that Mutoh Yugi had shown his genius again, and somehow figured out that the girl had died later than they had originally thought.
Someone had known hot air made things decompose faster, and had turned up the heater. The girl hadn't been killed between seven and nine, but ten and twelve the previous night.
Bakura Ryou did not have an alibi for later than eight-thirty the previous night.
"You don't have to tell me." Jou said quietly, shifting to stare out the open window, right at the burning sunlight. Seto noticed that he didn't blink, as if the blond didn't even notice the glare. The brunette closed his eye briefly, and felt the bed shift as Jou stood up.
"...I think I'm started to figure it out."
Blue eyes studied him curiously, as Jou reached out to touch one bandaged hand to the windowsill. Had Jou deduced who had done it?
"When I touched Otogi... I remember feeling pain, and blood."
"Enough blood for it be fatal?" Seto interrupted. Jou turned to face him, face slightly puzzled.
"Ya know, I'm not sure, but..." He turned back to the window, and placed both hands on the sill, leaning slightly out, as if trying to catch the last moments of sunset with his eyes, to savor the scene as long as he could. "...I think I'm starting to remember."
--obsession fear heart beating in his chest shouting cursing pain blood--
--feet padding quietly down the hallway, pushing open the door, seeing her there...--
--a slight smoky smell that tickled his nose, but he couldn't reach up to scratch it, he could seem to do anything but walk forward--
--what am I doing?--
--no...--
--No...--
--NO!--
"Seto..."
Seto stared at the blond's back, the uneasy feeling back, making his whole body tense. Hadn't Yami said that Jou had been out with Yugi until...
Jou turned towards him then, and his face was so grief-stricken that for a moment Seto failed to notice the single tear that slowly trailed it's way down the blond's cheek. When he did notice it, however, he found himself entranced with the drop than clung so selfishly to that pale skin. In the light of the dying sun, the tear looked a deep red, the color of blood. Jou was crying for his sister.
Blood for blood. He was crying blood.
Jou's next words made him sick.
"It was me, Seto."
Jounouchi Katsuya awoke instantly, fighting the sheets that were wrapped so tightly around him, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He panted and sat up, glancing around his room in the near-dawn light.
Ugh. His sheets were covered in sweat. What had he been dreaming of to make him sweat bullets like that?
He couldn't remember, not really. The memory seemed to sit uneasily in the back of his mind for one more moment, as if loathe to give up its place, and then it too was gone, washed away like fog on an early-morning wind. He shivered despite the strangely heated air and struggled out of his blankets, cursing inventively as he fumbled to untie himself.
Finally, he fought his way free and stood up, kicking the fallen sheets half-heartedly for good measure. He'd need to wash the cloth, he decided sourly, cursing at himself before picking up the whole off-white pile and heading towards the washing machine, pausing to turn down the thermostat when he saw it was up to ninety.
He deposited the tangle of sheets into the machine with a plop and started the cycle with the ease of one much practiced, shut the top, and closed the door behind him; it wouldn't do to wake his sister up with all this unnecessary racket.
It was such a beautiful day, he thought, despite the rather sudden way it had started. The air smelled fresh-- or as fresh as such could get in Tokyo-- and the sun was bright. He should plan a picnic for the two of them or something; it was, after all, Shizuka's only day off. After she slept until her usual eleven o' clock on Sundays (typical teenager, he thought affectionately), he could probably coax her into going out for once instead of spending all of her time studying. They'd have fun.
He couldn't quite suppress a whistle as he made his way back towards his room-- it was way too early on a weekend for even him to be up, let alone Shizuka-- and he grinned. Today was certainly looking up.
A sudden haunting noise from down the hall of the apartment caught him in his tracks, and he glanced towards the door of Shizuka's room, propped slightly open as it was, a crack of pitch darkness the only thing between the door and the wall.
Shizuka never left her door open.
~OWARI~
[1] - Paroxetine - Author does not condone the use of drugs without the guidance of a trained physician. Please use medication responsibly.
[2] - Soapland - Yeah, I think there's really one called Flower, actually. That is, if CLAMP was basing character info for X/1999 off of real life. ^.^; And yes, a soapland is a whorehouse. But Mai's a very classy whore, so there! *sticks out tongue childishly* ^.^;
[3] - Irish Hair Gene - It's true! Certain people with Irish ancestry have even had their hair go white before they were twenty! O.o Fact is stranger than fiction, ne?
And, for those who were wondering, I purposefully didn't explain everything, because I want the reader to think about what this is supposed to mean to them. ^.^ It's supposed to make you think.