PREYS
by Kamorgana
Disclaimer: I just
borrow
the characters for fun. Watsuki owns RK. If somebody owns Saitoh,
I'm a potential buyer!!!
Preys
Chapter 5: Links
After their departure from Hiko's office, they didn't talk to each
other until they took the elevator. Myojin's interrogation had been
fitting in what Hiko had told them, and they had to wait the different
reports to proceed further.
"So, what about that intuition Kondo talked about?" Tokio began, as the
cabin was descending. She was trying not to sound aggressive. She had
argued with too many people today, including him, and she was really
tired of that.
"So you can share it with your personal friend the mayor?"
"Excuse-me?" He wouldn't dare..
"Everybody is suspect until I have a proof they're not. You should
never leak any information to a witness. Possibility of serial murders?
If you still value your status of wannabe-cop, you'd better learn to
shut your big mouth," he suggested sarcastically.
" And nobody told YOU that it was stupid to alienate a witness like you
did with Myojin-san? Is that so important for you to win the contest of
bastard of the year? You really didn't need any efforts, the title is
already yours."
They got off in the parking lot, and her stilettos were echoing loudly
on the concrete ground, hitting as fast as her pulse was beating with a
renewed anger. He waited a moment to answer calmly.
"Well, I couldn't compete in the ass-kissing category. This one goes
clearly to you."
She stopped in front of her car, took a deep breath, and managed to
control her impulse to hit him. "Detective Saitoh, we're on duty here
and I'm your superior. Please don't forget it when you talk to me."
"I didn't, Takagi-sama. If you weren't my boss, I would have said
something like: how many times did you fuck our Mayor on that little
couch to get your promotion? Or maybe you're more familiar with that
space under his desk?"
She slapped him with all her strength.
He didn't make a move to avoid her. He just stared at her, that
unnerving satisfied smirk spreading on his face. She slapped him again.
Her blood was boiling, anger overwhelming her, she wanted to rip off
that ironic smile from his lips... He lifted his hand to his cheek,
caressing slowly the red mark she had left.
"It seems I hit a nerve.."
The pompous bastard was talking to her like she was a child having a
tantrum. As it was exactly how she felt, another wave of furor bolted
through her, and she prepared to slap him once more. He was faster,
grabbing her arm, twisting it behind her back. She didn't give him the
satisfaction to cry out in pain. She gazed directly at him, panting,
daring him to slap her back. He didn't make another move, enjoying her
helplessness for several seconds.
He slowly lifted his other hand. She braced herself, expecting the
violent, unavoidable respond. A cruel light glittered in his eyes, and
she gasped as she felt his fingers stroke slowly her cheek. His touch
was soft, but it was not gentle. It was deliberate and cold.
"Aren't we pissed?"
His hand shifted to her neck, still caressing. She shivered, unable to
move. Her anger had been beyond her control and, taken aback, she
couldn't form a coherent thought anymore.
" Or maybe..frustrated?" he went on suggestively.
He wanted to humiliate her. She couldn't let that happen. She gripped
his arm with her free hand, storming: "Don't touch me, you sick."
And she was pulled against him, both her hands ruthlessly pinned on the
top of the car behind her, her body trapped by his.
"Very frustrated, indeed."
He looked bemused, and while she was still staring at him in shock and
disbelief, he stole her a hard kiss, his lips moving forcefully on
hers, his tongue coaxing, trying to intrude her mouth. She writhed in
an attempt to escape, but he leaned a little more into her. Feeling him
against her she let out another gasp. He took advantage of it to deepen
the kiss. Unexpectedly, his attitude shifted from violent to sensuously
persuasive, and she gave in, too disoriented by his onslaught to find
the will to resist. Pleasure ran easily on her raw emotions, taking
control
of her.
Saitoh had just intended to give her a lesson, to show this little
bitch that there were limits not to be crossed with him. But she tasted
so good, her lips soft, her mouth bittersweet, fruits and cigarettes.
It was not enough. He was loosing control. He kissed her even more
fiercely, knowingly, as he felt her resistance weakening, her body
relaxing..until her tongue stroke his at last. He released her hands to
hold her waist, crushing her against him. Her arms came to grip his
shoulders...and few seconds later he parted with a growl, blood
dripping from his bottom
lip.
Tokio was trying to catch her breath. At the very moment she felt
herself drowning into the kiss, she had held on to the last threads of
her pride. Now they were face to face, and she noticed with relief that
he was panting as much as she was. At least he was affected too.
Now..Now what? She should do something. Insult him, or threaten him.
And why didn't he release her with an offensive comment? Why wasn't she
getting away in the first place? He just assaulted her. Nearly. His
eyes had turned golden, mesmerizing her. She wanted more, she realized
in a wave of self-loathing. She had no dignity.
Her cell-phone rang. As he finally let her go, reluctantly, she
realized how shattered she was, her legs going limp, her trembling
hands reaching for the machine in her pocket.
"Takagi...Yes,.."
Saitoh took advantage of the interruption to regain his self-control.
This had been a very clever move, congratulations, Detective. He didn't
know he could add "discipline of a rabbit" to the list of his
qualities. He was not stupid enough to ignore that part of his dislike
for her came from the fact that she was attracting him physically. He
had been unable to dismiss the idea since she arrived to the crime
scene, wearing that sexy little black dress. But he didn't think that
he would jump on her at the first occasion he got. How could he let
things go there? She shared some responsibilities, he corrected. She
went physical first when she slapped him, after all, and should have
expected a reaction.
He froze as he heard her soft cry.
"Oh,my.."
She sent him a worried glance, thanking her interlocutor in a shaken
voice. Her eyes closed briefly as she clapped her phone shut.
"Soushi is dead."
It was too blunt a way to say it, no better than he had behaved
earlier, but she was too shocked to come up with anything else. She
gazed at him, wondering how to react. Although his face was unreadable,
he had gone very still. She fought the urge to cry, to apologize. She
was so at loss...
"I'm going to the hospital," he finally said, after several endless
minutes, his tone utterly plain.
"Get in the car. And please don't argue, I want to go there too anyway."
He complied without a word.
***
She drove a few minutes in silence. She felt tears beginning to form at
the corner of her eyes. She had to think about something else, or she
was going to make a fool of herself in front of him even more. She had
to cope. She knew only one way to.
"We were talking about your intuition on that case," she started, with
her professional, detached voice.
Work, and a good dose of denial.
He glanced sideways at her. No condolences or pity. She surely knew he
would send them back to her teeth. He wondered why she chose that
topic, but talking about work was exactly what he needed right now. He
was almost grateful. Not thinking with his brain again, probably.
"I'm not sure that you want to hear that now. It's no good news," he
stated, opening the window, letting the warm air of the night brush his
face. "I'm surprised you didn't think about it, as it's linked to an
old case you worked on too."
She raised a brow, still concentrating on her driving. "I worked on a
lot of cases, Saitoh."
"How many boosting your career at the speed of light? How many
involving sadistic killings with a blade?"
The air seized in her lungs, and she FELT the color living her face.
She didn't bother to ask how he guessed. He had tracked down the
murderer long enough. He knew.
"A copycat of the Slayer?" she finally murmured.
"Maybe."
"Don't talk nonsense. Are you sure or not?"
"Well, life is full of contradictions. See Okita," he added.
"How can you be so...Oh! Yukishiro..." she whispered, appalled.
Her eyes left the road for a second. They shared a knowing, darkening
glance.
"I didn't even think so far," he admitted.
She opened her mouth to answer, but shut it again swiftly, realizing
the cruelty of her words if she told them in these circumstances.
Because you're a loner, Saitoh.
Now that Okita was gone, he was more than ever.
***
The surgeon was waiting for them in front of Okita's room. It was
almost midnight. The corridor was dark, sinister, with only the
emergency signs dim red lights glooming. Tokio wrinkled her nose. She
so hated the nauseating smell of hospitals. She was still wearing her
cocktail dress, which made her feel even more out of place here than on
the crime scene earlier.
"I'm sorry for your loss," started the old man.
"How could this happen? He was supposedly out of danger," said quickly
Tokio, catching Saitoh gritting his teeth.
"He had taken a bullet in the left lung, as you know. He was
stabilized, his constants were good, but he complained of chest pains
tonight. The wound had reopened. It can happen. We operated again to
stop the bleeding. He didn't resist the shock. His heart gave in."
" He was conscious when the decision to operate was taken?" She was in
her safe, attorney-mode. If it was a medical miss..
"Yes. And knew about the risks, according to his condition. But he had
no chance without an operation, anyway. We did all we could. You can
ask for the medical chart."
She nodded. She knew she was not fair to him, but also that doctors
were used to this kind of reactions. His offer had not been aggressive.
"I saw he had no family. Do you want to say him goodbye?"
"Yes," answered plainly Saitoh.
He entered the room without a glance at them.
***
Saitoh sat on the chair near the bed. They must have waited some time
to call them, because Okita had no IV, no tube, and the sheet covering
his chest was not stained with blood. He said silently goodbye,
contemplating the face of the one and only friend he had. The only
human being he had a link with. The link wasn't gone, though. It was
born in their common duty. Duty still had to be carried on.
***
Once alone, Tokio looked for the closest smoking lounge. She was
finishing her third cigarette of the last 10 minutes when Saitoh leaned
on the frame, aloof.
"You can go if you want. I'm calling Kondo. Okita and I left a copy of
our wills to him. He'll take care of the funeral."
"I'll call the others."
"It can wait," he bit back.
"Not with the day we have ahead, if your intuition is right. They need
to absorb the shock, to be effective tomorrow."
"Right," he murmured absently, rubbing his forehead.
She stared at him. It was the first time he seemed..not vulnerable, yet
not controlled, since he heard the news. She didn't know what to do
with that. He must be hurt. She felt so uncomfortable at the thought.
Oddly,
a part of her wanted to say something soothing, yet she knew he would
never forgive her if she acknowledged his weakness. As in her car
earlier,
she chose the safe way. She stood up.
"I told Sagara that the meeting was at 9.00 tomorrow. It will be
postponed to 10.30. I'll leave after seeing Okita. Goodnight."
"Goodnight" he mumbled.
Their eyes locked for a few seconds as she passed next to him. She was
still chilling to the bones when she walked through the corridor.
***
It was 3.00 when Tokio was able to take a shower, at last.
Megumi had called the very moment she had come home, appalled as she
also made the connection. There was something else bothering the
doctor, but she refused to answer yet. They had agreed that she would
attend the meeting from 11.00 on.
She had called Kondo, to inform him. She also had thought of some
disposition to take in relation to the Slayer case.
She had then left a message to Aoshi, summarizing the situation, and
asked him to be there too.
The worse had been to deal with the team: Enishi, Tsunan and Sanosuke
had all professed revenge, each in their style, until she had managed
to remind them that Saitoh had already shot the guy just after Okita
had been wounded. She was feeling like a broken record when she had
called Misao, who had been sobbing on the phone for more than half an
hour, between unsuccessful attempts to recover her usual cheerful
attitude. Soothing her had sucked the last remains of Tokio's strength.
She was trembling when she entered the shower, exhausted physically and
nervously. The events of the days were rolling in her head in a crazy
rhythm, the tension accumulating, the worry, the anger, the yells, the
taste of the wine, of Saitoh's lips, the smell of blood, of ether,
everything was melting as she turned her face up to receive the jets
of hot water, eyes closed, trying to wash it all away. It blurred to
leave only the image of piercing amber eyes, full of a hunger that she
knew was reflecting her own, of that sudden need of each other's heat
that had seized them when she left the lounge. Cold chills ran through
her body again. She reached for the wall in front of her for support,
bending her head, opening her eyes. The sight of Okita's boyish looking
face, motionless body, hit her brain full-force. She was
NOT going to cry..
***
Another day, another dark and dirty street, another waiting.
"Hey! You know you have a very wrong timing..Ho! What happened?"
Saitoh didn't bother to answer. He handed a file. "Somebody you have to
find for me. Contact me as soon as you have even the slightest clue."
He turned away, his tall figure disappearing slowly in the dark.
The other man was for once oblivious of Saitoh's lack of manner. He was
staring at the file, frowning.
"Holly shit."
To be continued.
Author's notes:
Mara, Firuze, thank you again, for everything! You waited for the
confrontation..Here it was...Hope it wasn't too mild or too wrong.
I had a VERY hard time trying to deal with Saitoh saying goodbye to
Okita. OOC again, probably. Yes, I killed Okita. Saitoh has to be on
the edge, too.
Maybe Saitoh kissing Tokio is a little bit rushed. They are really mad
at each other, and their anger mixing with their more or less admitted
attraction had been stressed enough in the previous chapters so I hope
it doesn't come too much out of the blue.
About the smoking lounge, Japan is very different from the USA, for
example. The official smoking restrictions in the hospitals I'm going
to (public ones) exist only since last year. And there are smoking
lounges (and cigarette distributors) here and there, so don't be
surprised at that detail. For a long time Japan has been very tolerant
with smokers. Not anymore...
I'm not a scientist. A sudden re-opening of bullets' wounds seemed a
likable option to me (Okita betrayed by his lungs again.). Sorry if
it's too unrealistic. (I have no idea.)
I changed the genre. "Romance" (?) between Tokio and Saitoh is a big
part of the fic, and yes, I finally have a "Mystery" plot. For people
who read that..there is an end to that fic.
In the next chapter, Tokio has to deal with Kondo's patronizing
attitude and to make Saitoh follow her directives. Enishi is upset, as
everybody expected. But Megumi is too..
See you!
Kamorgana
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