Contemplation "Watari-san?"
Watari's head jerked up. Startled, he glanced over his shoulder: Tatsumi was hovering in the doorway, a slight frown on his face.
"Watari-san - have you eaten today?"
The researcher blinked, then pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, thinking. No, he hadn't. He'd forgotten - again. He shook his head guiltily, and the Secretary sighed.
"I thought not. Come, you need a meal."
"But…"
"That's an order, Watari-san."
Strictly speaking Tatsumi couldn't give orders, not officially, but you didn't disobey the person who controlled the budget, and hence your funding. Watari pulled himself from his seat and stretched, wincing as his back complained. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, he glanced at the clock, eyes widening as he saw it was seven pm. He'd been working flat out since eight that morning, with only a couple of breaks for coffee. No wonder he was stiff!
But it was a frustrating case. Yet another series of murders, in Fukuoka this time, and while that was, strictly speaking, in Tsuzuki and Hisoka's cho, the fact that the MO for each one was different was making it very difficult to pin down who was committing the crimes, and they'd roped in Watari to help with the research. At first they'd thought each was a separate case, but had finally realised there was a connection. It was such a small and insignificant thing, too, easily overlooked. It had been Hisoka who had mentioned, in passing, that it was strange to find a leaf in an alley so far from any trees…
Watari had leapt on the snippet of information. What sort of leaf? Had there been any at the other crime scenes? Where was the leaf when found…?
Since then he'd spent three days - and nights - cross-referencing known killers with the areas that the crimes had taken place, and trying to build up an amateur version of what in Chijou would have been called a psychological profile of the murderer. He'd been so focussed, so intent, he'd hardly taken the time to sleep, and only eaten when he felt dizzy - and even then it was only a snatched snack, anything that was going…
He was close, he knew it. Tatsumi's interruption was not welcome. But he had to admit his eyes were aching from staring at the computer screen, as was his head, and a break would help to clear his mind. He followed the Secretary to the rest room, slumping over a table as Tatsumi placed freshly-brewed - freshly-brewed? At this time of the day? He must have been here earlier, getting it ready… - coffee and bento before his colleague, then seated himself opposite with his own steaming mug.
There was silence for a few minutes as Watari wolfed down maki-zushi, eyes half-closed as his stomach first protested, then welcomed, the food, then Tatsumi inclined his head.
"The investigation is going well?"
Watari nodded around a mouthful of tekkappa-maki, then swallowed hastily.
"Aa. Nearly there, Ay think. 'nother few hours…"
Tatsumi frowned.
"How many is a 'few'?"
Watari paused and eyed his companion narrowly. He had no intention of stopping until he'd solved the problem, not now, not when he was so close - but Tatsumi wouldn't be happy to hear that. He shrugged.
"Ay dun' know, Tats'mi-san. Not long."
"Watari-san, your notion of 'not long' is entirely relative…"
"Tats'mi-san, 'm close. Got to finish it. Bin seven deaths already. Dun' wan' anyone else t'die 'fore their time."
The Secretary nodded reluctantly.
"Very well. But after this is over, you will take two day's paid leave and rest. Do I make myself clear?"
Watari sighed and nodded.
"Promise."
Tatsumi rose from his seat.
"Good. I will check back with you later."
"'Kay, Tats'mi-san."
Watari downed the last of his coffee as the Secretary disappeared through the door - pausing with a frown as he realised what Tatsumi had said. Check back with him later? That meant Tatsumi was still working too…
Watari grinned to himself, comforted that he wouldn't be alone in the big, echoing building.It was three thirty in the morning before he finally sat back, a small but vicious smile of triumph on his face.
Got yew, yew bitch!
Gathering notes and printouts, he stiffly pulled himself upright, hissing as his neck and lower back complained, then paused, frowning. Would Tatsumi still be here?
Watari shook his head. Of course he would. He wouldn't have left without saying goodnight to his scientist. Moving with somewhat less than his normal verve, Watari made his way to the Secretary's office: sure enough, there was still a light burning. A desk lamp of course, gods forbid Tatsumi would ever be so profligate as to waste money using the main lights just for himself!
Lamplight suited him, though, thought Watari absently as he laid the pile of paper on the desk. Made him look mysterious and a little devilish, darkened the blue of his eyes… Watari rubbed his own tired eyes, laughing mirthlessly at himself. Didn't need lamplight to see Tatsumi-san like that, just let any of them fall behind with their paperwork…
Tatsumi gazed down at the topmost printout then eyed the scientist, frowning.
"Meian Kaede?"
Watari nodded wearily.
"Wimmen can be just as murd'rous 's men, yew know."
Tatsumi sighed.
"Yes, I do know." He leafed through another handful of papers then laid them flat before him, long hands resting on the top, and gazed at Watari.
"This is excellent work, Watari-san. Thank you."
Watari waved a hand negligently.
"Jus' doin' my job." He stifled a sudden yawn. "Wha' now?"
"I will brief Tsuzuki-san and Kurosaki-kun in the morning. After that it will be up to them - but with this information - " he dropped his gaze momentarily to the report " - I have no doubt they will be able to close and clear the case with all due speed."
Watari slumped forwards, chin resting in his hands.
"Good. Dun wan' any more murders…"
Tatsumi eyed him narrowly: face even paler than normal, eyes half-closed and ringed with shadows from lack of sleep, hair dishevelled… for a moment the Secretary was tempted to give him more leave. But he knew that after two days Watari would be itching to get back into his lab, and preventing him from doing so could be considered an act of cruelty. He nodded.
"You must rest now, Watari-san. Complete rest, at home. Two days."
And Watari was too tired to object…Though he'd have been more comfortable in his lab, he mused to himself, ruefully, gazing round the apartment. It was cold, with a musty, unlived-in smell. No food, of course - he was here so rarely he didn't bother trying to keep any in stock. 003 hooted softly on his shoulder, and he sighed.
"Na, s'not much, issit? What d'yew think? Shall us try an' warm the place up an' get some sleep?"
A rustle of wings that somehow resembled a shiver, which Watari echoed.
"Dun' think much of the idea? Me neither…"
Holding his coat closely around himself to retain heat, he moved to gaze out of the window. The thought of staying here was rapidly becoming less and less appealing.
He wondered if KoKakuRou was open.
Heh, daft question. Of course it would be.
…………….
He wondered if Oriya was busy.
If he'd be welcome.
He sighed, exhaustion making it easy to ignore the question of correct behaviour.
Only one way to find out…He attracted a variety of looks as he stumbled wearily into the restaurant, most of them hostile, if not downright threatening. Not overly surprising, given the contrast between himself and the big dark men, the sleek lines of their expensive dark suits spoiled somewhat by the guns holstered underneath. Bodyguards, he guessed, here waiting to make sure their masters got home safely after their night's... eh… business…
A middle aged woman, vaguely familiar - Watari distantly remembered her from a previous visit - hastened forwards to lead him through to the private rooms at the back of the building, tapping timidly on the wood before calling out quietly,
"Mibu-sama? There is a visitor for you…"
A moment's silence, then the door slid open.
"Yutaka-kun?"
Watari managed a weary smile.
"Um… Ay wondered…"
A warm hand closed around his wrist and pulled him into the room, Oriya muttering something to the woman behind him, something about not being disturbed unless it was urgent, then he found himself enveloped in a firm, warm hug. Sighing, he slumped against the strong figure, allowing himself to relax at last.
"You need to sleep. Come…"
His eyes closing, he was hardly aware of being ushered into the bedroom, warm hands stripping him, pushing him down onto the futon and gently pulling up the covers…He woke slowly to the soothing sensation of a hand stroking his hair, and blinked his eyes open to find Oriya, face propped on the other hand, gazing fondly at him. Watari sighed with contentment and stretched like a sleepy cat, soft smile bright in the dimly-lit room. Oriya chuckled quietly.
"You slept well?"
Without thinking he snuggled a little closer to the warm naked body beside him, his eyes closing of their own volition. He may have slept better than in… in… as long as he could remember, but he was still bloody tired.
"Mm. Ta."
"Would you like some breakfast?"
"'n a minnit…"
Oriya kissed his forehead and lay back down, turning onto his back and settling Watari's head on his shoulder, holding him close…It was evening when he woke next, and he was alone in the bed. From a little distance the sounds of voices, of laughter, of food being prepared filtered into the room - homely, comforting noises, quite different to the sounds he'd grown used to since his death. He lay still, relishing the sense of wellbeing…
A quiet hoot from close to his ear made him jump. He turned his head, to find 003 perched happily on the futon beside his head, and reached to ruffle her feathers.
"Yew happy too?"
The little owl shook itself, beak opening and closing silently a few times, then pecked lightly at Watari's fingers in agreement. He chuckled - then turned his head at the quiet tap at the door. Oriya's voice was low.
"Yutaka-kun? Are you awake?"
Watari stretched.
"Aa, Oriya-kun."
The swordsman entered, smiling at his guest.
"I'm sorry I had to leave you."
Watari pulled himself up, sitting cross-legged, and grinned.
"S'OK. Yew got a business to run. Me an' 003 wuz fine."
"The owl?" Oriya seated himself on the edge of the futon and held out a hand. "An unusual pet."
As 003 fluttered to him and perched on his finger, Watari chuckled.
"More 'f a partner than a pet."
Oriya stroked fine soft feathers for a moment, then lowered his hand for the bird to sidle back to its master across the bedcover. He eyed Watari speculatively.
"Would you care to join me for a meal?"
Watari blinked then blushed as his stomach grumbled loudly.
"Heh, Ay'd like that. Not ate much last few days. Bin a bit busy."
His host smiled.
"Then we must remedy the situation." He gestured to a large cupboard. "Your clothes are in there - but you might like to consider wearing a kimono for tonight."
Watari stared at him, bemused. Yes, he had worn one before, but not often, and usually under protest… But Oriya… glowed, tonight, the kimono the very deepest, richest red, with a pattern of gold-edged brighter red acer leaves scattered across it, a black heko obi low on his waist.
"Ay… think Ay'd like that."
The swordsman inclined his head.
"Shall we see what might suit you?"Watari stood before the mirror and gazed at himself, not completely sure this was wise but enjoying the novelty anyway. He was naked underneath, declining fundoshi after finding out Oriya wore none. The rich blue kimono was lightly decorated with a splay of pale purple wisteria and tied with a deep purple heko obi: the pattern female, but the colour and sleeves male - an intriguing blend. Watari's skin was startlingly pale against the blue, his hair and eyes almost golden.
Paul would have loved it.
He pushed the memory back down and smiled at Oriya in the mirror. The swordsman inclined his head.
"You're happy with that?"
Watari nodded enthusiastically.
"Long's Ay dun't have t'wear geta…"
"I wouldn't ask it of you." Oriya handed him his glasses, but he shook his head.
"Think Ay c'n manage without. S'long's yew order my food for me." Oriya raised an eyebrow enquiringly, and Watari smiled. "Ay'm long-sighted."
Nodding, the swordsman took a brush to his guest's hair - Watari happily closed his eyes and luxuriated in the slow, thorough strokes - then reached for a deep blue silk hair tie. The scientist shook his head.
"Na. Leave it loose. S'more comfy."
Oriya stepped back to inspect his companion, smiling.
"You look very beautiful."
Watari blushed, then grinned.
"Ta. Look good yerself!"
Oriya gestured to the door.
"Shall we eat?"Oriya slid the door open silently, slipping into the room and carefully closing it again. Four am… Thankfully it had been a quiet night.
He stood in the open doorway to the bedroom, smiling at the sight within. Watari was still asleep, sprawled on his front, the cover pushed down to his waist, bright hair tumbling over slim shoulders to make a soft, rich pool on the dark blue sheet, one hand tucked under his cheek. 003 opened one eye to stare at the swordsman for a moment before hooting almost soundlessly and closing it again.
The evening had been delightful from start to finish. Refreshed after the long sleep, Watari was an entertaining and articulate companion, willing and able to talk about anything - except work, he changed the subject any time the conversation turned in that direction. Oriya had found himself wholly focussed on the scientist's mobile, expressive face and the long, graceful hands, always in motion to emphasise whatever point it was he was making: the light, lilting voice was a pleasure to hear. He'd been distantly aware of the startled or envious glances they were attracting, and the curious sideways looks of his staff, but found them easy to ignore, his attention captured by the vibrant young man…
Except, of course, he was neither young, nor exactly a man, was he. Oriya sighed silently and moved to the roji, stepping out into the tranquil garden, needing a few minutes to think before retiring.
Oriya hadn't survived this long by leaving anything to chance. After that second meeting, he'd had Watari checked out - rather, he'd had someone check the obituaries for the last fifty years, just to make sure his new acquaintance wasn't connected to anyone or anything that should worry him. The results had been… sad. The young man had had so much promise, so much potential, his death - sudden, unforeseen - in a hit and run accident so senseless and tragic. That had been twenty-seven years ago, when he was just twenty-four.
The thought raised the hair on the back of the swordsman's neck. Twenty-four. Watari would be forever twenty-four, his body unaging, unchanging, healing itself when injured, ignoring the passing of the years… What of his mind, that bright, curious, thirsty mind? Would it eventually become stagnant, unable to cope with change? Or would the pressure of trying to make sense of an ever-changing world eventually drive him to madness? To see everyone and everything you once knew die away, little by little, left behind as you lived on…
He shivered, tucking his hands into his sleeves. The thought was frightening.Slim arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, warm lips brushed his ear.
"Yew OK?"
His body, which had tensed for action at that first touch, relaxed. He nodded.
"Just… contemplating eternity."
A light, wry chuckle.
"Why? Yew got a lot o' life to live, yet."
The swordsman glanced back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, only half-jesting.
"You know that, do you?"
Watari hesitated, then shook his head.
"Na. Prob'ly could go an' look, if Ay had a reely good reason. But then Ay couldn' tell yew owt anyway. So Ay won't." He rested his forehead against Oriya's neck. "Dun' want to know."
Oriya covered the slim hands with his own, leaning back into the embrace, trying to ignore the chill the thought evoked.
Just how much power did the shinigami wield?
"s'late. Aren't yew tired?"
Oriya twisted suddenly, frowning, placing his hands on Watari's slim shoulders under the untied kimono.
"Why are you here? Why do you keep coming back? To find Muraki…?"
As he spoke the name he realised he was hoping against hope it wasn't true. The thought that Watari might be using him to try to track down his… friend was acutely painful.
The shinigami stared, eyes wide with shock.
"Naw! Ay wouldn' do any such thing!" He stared at Oriya for a moment, then laid a hand against the swordsman's face, expression downcast. "Yew reely think so little o' me?"
"I… no, I don't… but… Why are you here, Yutaka-kun?"
Watari's small smile was sweet and heartbreaking.
"'cause yew have brown eyes, an' 'm lonely."
Oriya blinked, not understanding but somehow feeling he'd been given something very precious. He pulled Watari to him, holding him close.
"Can you stay?"
A small nod against his shoulder.
"'nother day an' night."
Oriya sighed, nuzzling sun-filled hair. If he slept now, he'd be sufficiently rested to spend most of the day with Watari and still be awake for the night's business. And tonight should be relatively quiet, too: there were only a few bookings. He couldn't leave the premises in case he was needed, but he should be able to leave matters to his staff, spend the evening with his guest.
He'd like that. He smiled, placing his fingers under the shinigami's chin to pull his face up.
"Yes, Yutaka-kun - I am tired. Shall we sleep?"
There were, he thought absently to himself a few minutes later, wrapped in Watari's arms as his eyes closed of their own accord, few things more soothing than falling asleep with someone who cared…© 2004 April 1st Joules
A couple of notes:
On the kimonos - red acer (maple) leaves for October, wisteria for April. It seemed appropriate…
An awful lot of fics seem to ignore the fact that Watari actually works for Juohcho and therefore doesn't spend all his time creating strange potions. Nor is he as nutty as a lot of people portray him. Eccentric, yes, but hardly 'mad'! I can't see Tatsumi letting him get away with it, to be honest…
And I've made him long-sighted purely on the strength of the onsen segment of the Hokkaido manga. As far as I'm concerned, if Watari can see/drool over naked Tsuzuki at that distance, he ain't short-sighted!
And speaking of fics, this little gem had Lutra and I in stitches. You really do need to know Yami no Matsuei for this one, unfortunately, since you have to know the characters, but if you are familiar… It's absolutely hysterical. (It's also, alas, on FF.net, so beware the evil popups….)
Oriyal Tales
Mini Epics Index
The Zone
© 2004 WordWrights
Tuna and cucumber sushi rolls.
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