InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Love's Smirking Revenge ❯ Trouble Will Find You ( Chapter 26 )

Love's Smirking Revenge

 

- Chapter 27 -

Trouble Will Find You

 

 

Inuyasha kicked open the door to interrogation room three with the toe of his shoe, ignored the petite woman sitting at the table, and took a seat opposite her. After setting his coffee down, he took a second to flip through the file folder in his hand. What a goddamn waste of time. He already had enough on his plate without babysitting some stupid arson case, too. It wasn't even a homicide for Kami's sake! This thing never should've landed in his lap, or on the Captain's desk.

What's next? Are they going to send every traffic violation and B and E my way too?

Wearing a sour expression, he took in the woman across from him with a passing glance. There was nothing remarkable about her. She was small and mousey looking with narrow features and dark, shoulder length hair. At the very least she could've been attractive.

Resigning himself to his fate, he sighed heavily and droned, “Thanks for coming in Miss...?”

She regarded him carefully before answering, “Aoki. Tsugumi Aoki.”

Her tone was more confident than he'd expected it to be, but that wasn't saying much.

“Right... Miss Aoki. I hear you have some information for us about the arson at the Vica Cafe?”

He leaned back in his chair and took a careful sip of coffee. It tasted like burnt grounds - fantastic. Ten years he'd been working out of the 29th and had yet to taste a cup that wasn't swill. Only the finest for the city's best crime fighting force...

Grimacing, he set the cup down and flipped through the file some more.

No witnesses. Until now, he corrected. No leads. No viable motive. The owners hadn't filed a claim with the insurance company so it wasn't some hopped up insurance scam. Basically what he'd been given was a manila folder of dead ends.

Sighing loudly he snapped the file folder shut. This girl was exactly the kind of witness he didn't have time for - meek, nervous, needing a hand hold and a babysitter all the way to trial. If this was his punishment, the Captain must've been more pissed off than he thought.

He watched impatiently as she took a long moment to chew over what she wanted to say.

“Look, Miss, if-“

“I saw something,” she blurted out.

“What'd you see?”

“A man.”

He made a show of jotting down a couple notes on the legal pad he'd brought along:

- Saw a man

“Can you describe this man that you saw?”

His tone was borderline patronizing but he didn't care. The sooner she blurted out the usual `Japanese male, medium height and build' he could thank her for her time and be on his way.

“It was dark so...” she began apologetically.

Here we go..., he thought.

“Well, I didn't get that good of a look at him, but...”

He collected the file folder and legal pad together and was half way to standing when she reached into her purse and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. She pushed it across the table towards him and nervously snapped her purse shut.

“I drew this sketch of his face. It's not all that great and I don't know if it'll help, but I thought it couldn't hurt if you were looking for the guy.”

Curious, he set his stuff back on the table and picked up the drawing. Unfolding it slowly, he was surprised to find a near perfect, detailed sketch of a face he'd seen before.

Well, son of a bitch...

“You could have a career in law enforcement as a sketch artist,” he said as he flattened the sketch out on the table.

“Where did you say you saw this guy?”

“In the alley, behind the cafe. I was on my way home from school. I...stayed late at the library to cram for finals and when I was walking home I saw that guy toss something into the big garbage bin behind the cafe.”

“So he was tossing out some trash. What makes you think he's our guy?”

“He just...seemed sketchy. And I was pretty sure I saw smoke coming from the garbage bin right after he threw whatever it was in there.”

Studying the sketch, he nodded slowly to himself. The man had a haggard look about him - unshaven, sunken cheeks, a bald head. `Sketchy' was certainly one way to describe him.

“So you saw this man throw something into the garbage bin, and then you saw smoke starting to come out, and you didn't think to call anyone - like the fire department or the police? If you'd bothered to call maybe they could've kept the place from burning down.”

“I... I'm sorry. I guess I was scared...”

He lifted an eyebrow and watched the girl across from him nervously pick at her nails. Yeah, she was scared alright, but it wasn't for the right reason. What was she hiding?

“You must have incredible eye sight too,” he ventured. “It's the only way I can figure that you were able to sketch such a perfect picture of this guy's face after seeing him for a few seconds from your vantage point, across a poorly lit street at night.”

The girl's mouth audibly snapped shut and stared nervously down at the table.

“Let's start again,” he suggested, laying the sketch down between them. “This time, I want the truth.”

Her shoulders were trembling, he noticed. The girl was shaking like a leaf, which only seemed to confirm what he'd already guessed - she knew more than she was letting on. Her foot tapped a frantic rhythm against the linoleum floor. He could see her debating it over in her head - to talk or not to talk. Whatever the consequences were for talking, they had her scared. Not surprisingly, she erred on the side of self-preservation and stood, hastily grabbing her purse off the table.

“I knew this was a mistake,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Just forget I was here.”

Perfect. Losing an eye witness was exactly the kind of fuck up he couldn't afford right now.

“Now, just hold on a minute.”

He tried to placate her but his words had no effect. She stormed her way to the door, only stopping when he put out his arm to block her exit.

“I'm sorry, I have to go. I have to be at work soon,” she demanded, nearly on the verge of tears. She tried to duck around his arm but he stood his ground in front of the door.

“You're the only witness to a crime Ms. Aoki, and unless you tell me your side of the story you just admitted to being an accessory to arson. That's a jail-able offence.”

Her eyes grew wide at his words and her mouth set into a rigid line.

“So I think it would be in your best interest to park your ass in that chair and tell me the truth,” he advised, sounding smug.

“I already told you what I saw. Can't you just leave me alone?”

There were tears in her eyes, but he'd seen better sob stories and wasn't the least bit phased. Stubbornly, he refused to move and watched fascinated as her expression changed from scared and anxious, to annoyed and determined.

“Look, I came here voluntarily because I wanted to help and you're trying to make me look like the bad guy. The real bad guy is still out there and you have no idea where to start looking for him. I gave you what you needed so go do your job and leave me out of it.”

She stared him down until he begrudgingly held up his hands and stepped away from the door. Not wasting any time, she immediately threw it open. Wearing a scowl he watched her disappear down the hall. It was obvious her story about coming home from the library was as bogus as her name, but the picture seemed legit. It was more to go on than he'd had twenty minutes ago, which meant that despite losing a witness out the front door he was still doing something right.

Sketch in hand, he grabbed his cup of swill off the table and retreated to his desk. Whoever the guy in the picture was, he'd seen his face before which could only mean one of two things - either he was dead, which wasn't likely given the circumstances, or he'd arrested him before. A few minutes with the database should be all he'd need to be one step closer to closing this farce of a case.

It wasn't easy to ignore the stares and whispers that followed him through the gallery to his desk. He'd had years of practice though and Kouga was smart enough to make himself scarce. It was the first smart thing he'd done all year.

Blowing out a frustrated sigh, he slumped into his chair and half-pounded, half-typed on his computer keyboard. The pressure that'd exploded out of him earlier had dwindled, fizzling out of him like a slowly deflating balloon. It would continue to simmer somewhere deep inside his chest though. It always did. The feeling never truly disappeared, and it wouldn't until he did something to fix the real problem. The Captain's warning from earlier cycled through his thoughts. It didn't take a shrink for him to figure out what the problem was - the problem was her.

Kagome Higurashi; the broken, scared girl he'd abandoned at the hospital; the fiery tempered vixen who put him in his place as quickly as he stepped out of it. It was hard to believe they were one in the same. In his world she was the only person he cared about, but it wasn't enough. Guys like him wedidn't end up with women like her, and there was a good reason for it.

Nothing good for her could possibly come from being with him. She'd only wind up getting hurt again, or worse. When it came to personal relationships he had a solid track record of failure. He'd failed every single person who'd ever mattered in his life and she was just the latest victim on his list. He was finally starting to accept that numbing truth now, and what it meant for the future. Still, knowledge and acceptance were two entirely different beasts. Knowing she was better off without him was one thing, but it didn't make it any less cutting to go home to an empty apartment at night, or hear Kouga say he was taking her to dinner.

He'd found ways to cope, mainly out of desperation than anything else. He spent long days at the precinct filling out endless piles of paperwork, chained to his desk like some dog. It was one of the many consequences from the fallout of the Naraku Takeda incident. The Captain hadn't taken kindly to learning that he'd known about Kagome's abduction for days before Kouga finally called in back up, or that he'd killed the Boss of a top yakuza gang rather than bring him in so he could be grilled for information.

It seemed strange, but the desk duty was actually a blessing in disguise. It gave him a reason to get up in the morning and something to keep his mind occupied during the day. He tried to stay at the precinct as long as humanly possible, but even he had to leave at some point and return to his empty apartment.

It was the nights that were hardest. He'd come to loathe the long hours before dawn where he'd lay awake staring at the ceiling. He tried to focus on his cases, especially the mystery of Lucky and Inokuma's gold-bullet killer, but his mind always found its way back to her. There was always a trigger, some small, insignificant, completely unrelated thing that would make him suddenly remember the way she smelled or the softness of her hair in his hands. He'd remember the alluring taste of her lips, with their soft, demanding touch, and the feeling of her body wrapped up in his. Then he'd wind up slipping into a dream so painfully vivid that when he woke up he was even more of a wreck than when he'd gone to bed.

Blowing out a sigh, he gulped down what was left of his cold coffee and decided to head out for some air. Grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, he barely had time to slip it over his shoulders before his desk phone rang.

Figures.

Scowling, he jammed the receiver to his ear and barked, “What.”

There was a moment of silence and then,

“It's me.”

The noise of the precinct faded into silence as he slowly sat back down in his chair. His mind couldn't process the words fast enough. The sleepless nights he'd spent agonizing over this exact moment flooded back in an instant.

How many ways had he thought to tell her “I'm sorry”? How many times had he been one digit away from calling her just to hear the sound of her voice again? Countless. Now, she was calling him and he couldn't think of a goddamn thing to say.

Thankfully, she didn't give him the chance. Without waiting for a response, she hastily added, “I need a favour.”

“A favour?” he managed to mutter, his voice hoarse.

What kind of favour could she possibly want from him?

“I need you to look someone up in the system.”

Nevermind that it was entirely against the rules... But when had he ever been one for sticking to the rules? He could almost hear her saying it now.

“Her name is Rin, no last name. She used to work at the Vica Cafe, that coffee shop arson you guys are investigating.”

Well, today was just his lucky day. He typed the name into the computer database as she spelled it out and waited for the screen to load. A sincere “How've you been?” rested on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't seem to force it out. It seemed ridiculous to ask now, after so long.

“Rin Aomori... She's employed by Goldstar Entertainment. They usually hire hostesses if I remem-”

“Does it say what club she works at?”

There was no hint of the almost purr-like way she used to speak to him on the phone, or that voice she used when she liked to talk dirty. Her tone was all business - brusque, clear and impatient. It hit him like a loaded shotgun. If he had any doubts that they were over before, there were none left now.

Swallowing hard, he pushed down the ache of regret and focused on the screen in front of him.

“Is this for a piece you're working on or somethin'?”

Silence answered. Sensing her impatience, he jotted down the name of a club and its address to read it back to her.

His palms were sweaty against the desk while he waited for whatever was going to come next. In the end she merely uttered a brief, “Thanks” and hung up. No shouting. No anger. No poorly worded apologies on his part. Nothing...

The room suddenly felt stifling. He slowly lowered the phone into its cradle.

She'd moved on.

It was like a swift kick to the balls when he was already down and goddamn did it ever have a bite.

It was a few minutes before he noticed the photo staring back at him on his computer screen. Rin Aomori was an average looking girl - petite and mousy looking with narrow features and dark shoulder length hair. Recognition clicked over in his brain and he smiled to himself.

“Well, fuck me...,” he muttered, jotting down the address of Club VOSS. It was about time the universe gave him a break.

---

Business at Club VOSS was unusually slow for a Thursday afternoon, but Nobu Furukawa wasn't concerned. Once happy hour hit the place would be crawling with salarymen. The economy might be in the shitter but as far as he saw it, he had the safest job in Tokyo. No matter how bad their money troubles got, the customers of Club VOSS would always find a way to scrounge up enough cash to spend a few hours with their favourite girl.

The reason? He gave them what they wanted; he sold them an unattainable dream underwritten by the belief that love was something anyone could have (as long as they were willing to pay for it).

`Love' was a word used all too frequently in his line of business. The customers loved the girls. The girls loved their money. He loved their business. The search for love made him a steady profit. In return, he did his best to help his customers forget their miserable existence for as long as their money held out.

Since he was everyone's Wishmaster he didn't often find himself in a bad situation but he found himself in one today. Trouble had walked in his front door and stood at his bar wearing Armani and leather.

The man across from him was someone every businessman in the district knew by name but few had met in person. It was a rare honour and one he wished had never been bestowed upon him. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Kobayashi-san in his club but every time he saw his back he prayed it would be for the last time.

He bowed deeply and nervously slicked back his dark hair. He suddenly felt overly self-conscious about his appearance and didn't enjoy it one bit.

“Kobayashi-san, to what do I owe the honour of your presence?”

He heard his sniff of disdain and looked up to find him slowly looking around the nearly empty club.

“I heard you have a new girl. Where is she?”

Nobu held back his resentment and righted himself. Dammit! Every time Kobayashi-san took a liking to one of his girls he never saw her again. Kami only knew what he did with them. He always paid for them in full, of course, but Club VOSS depended on its regulars. When his girls disappeared so did their customers. Kobayashi-san may have been richer than any man in Tokyo but his money only went so far.

He chewed the inside of his cheek while pondering the wisdom of outright lying to him. Kobayashi-san wasn't the kind of man who asked questions he didn't already know the answer to. The best he could do was attempt to dissuade him.

“Yes...,” Nobu began hesitantly, nervously adjusting his collar, “we do have one new girl but she isn't here today. I'm afraid she's very inexperienced. I'm not sure she would be to your liking. Perhaps one of the other girls would provide better entertainment?”

If he'd ever wondered why half of Tokyo was terrified of this man, his question was answered by the glare that was sent his way. Kobayashi-san didn't suffer fools gladly it seemed. The sudden weakness in his knees made that abundantly clear. Stumbling over himself, he bowed deeply in apology.

“Of course, I apologize. I was only trying to ensure you had the best experience possible at our establishment. Please forgive me for being so presumptuous.”

As much as it sickened him to grovel at this man's feet, it seemed to have the desired effect. The expression that greeted him when he looked up was bored indifference rather than murderous intent. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief and discretely poured himself a drink.

“Would you like to arrange a private audience with her?”

“Not exactly,” Kobayashi-san answered with a wry look. “How many clients does she have presently?”

“None...”

Nobu wasn't entirely certain where this line of questioning was headed but he had a feeling that wherever it was going he wouldn't like it. Kobayashi-san nodded to himself as though this news satisfied him.

“She is not to take on any clients.”

Nobu balked. He opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by another glare and two bundles of money laid atop his bar. He stared mutely at the man bills while his brain made quick mental calculations. It was enough to cover two months of lease payments, at least. The question was, why? What about this girl had a man like him so interested?

With a quick glance around the bar to make sure no one was watching, he accepted the money and tucked it into his blazer.

“So we are in agreement then?”

He nodded, too stunned to speak.

“Good. I'm sure I don't need to explain the consequences if you decide to get greedy?”

He discretely let his jacket fall open enough to reveal his gun sitting comfortably in its holster. Nobu reluctantly nodded and swallowed. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton.

“I understand,” he muttered, barely able to get the words out.

Kobayashi-san nodded and slowly buttoned his jacket closed. With a dismissive look at the rest of the club he retreated for the door. The minute he was out of sight, Nobu downed two straight glasses of whiskey, one right after the other. Only when he was finished did he breathe out a heavy sight of relief.

Kami and hell, that man was one terrifying sonofabitch.

------

Author's Notes: Wow guys, just wow! I am totally blown away by the support and love LSR received this past quarter at the FA and IYFG awards. *doles out a big group hug* Honestly, thank you. This chapter is dedicated to Ai Kisugi, KittyKaiya, LuxKen27, psyco_chick32, ktshabatie, doggieearlover, for being AWESOME and to everyone else who took the time to read and vote. Thank you guys so much :)

I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm sorry it took so long. My muse decided to skip ahead and has been working on future chapters. Hopefully that means fewer lengthy delays in the future :) For now though, I hope you enjoyed the read and I will have another update for you soon!

- Langus