Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Silk Gloves ❯ Can't Hear it Enough ( Chapter 5 )

My hands are empty. Except for a can of Dr. Pepper and the computer keys.

~^~

After a few minutes of silence, Karasuma finally voiced what bothered her most about the encounter. “He did that on purpose.”

“You mean he specifically threw that ball at you to do that?”

She began to nod, then winced, and sighed. “Yes.”

Sakaki frowned. “But how did he know that you'd …” he hesitated, searching for the right words for the hell she had just been dragged through.

“Be so susceptible?” Her face contorted, drawing into a tight mask of barely hidden disgust. “Everyone is, around here.” She felt his questioning gaze and continued. “It was the Orbo. While it was being made, fumes were being released into the environment. Even the vapor had an impact; witches powers were suppressed. I think that's why my power was fading just before the factory collapsed. I was in constant close contact with it,” she winced again, and he felt her grip on his arm tighten. “It was more powerful than we could have guessed, affecting so many, on so great a scale …”

“That's incredible,” he muttered quietly. “It also explains a lot, like why the richer neighborhoods are suddenly awakening so quickly; they were closer to the factory than the walled city.”

“He's doing it, too,” she said through gritted teeth. “We were right; he's going around and scaring them. And with the Orbo no longer putting a damper on their witch blood, their powers open up like flood gates.” Sakaki looked over; she was clenching her jaw, the hand not holding on to him clenched against her chest. Suddenly, she gasped in pain.

He stopped. “Are you all right?” he said, facing her.

She looked up at him, “Ye-,” she started, and then abruptly lost steam, “no.” Her face fell, and he could tell that she had been holding off pain for at least as long as they had been walking. “I feel like I've been run over by several trucks,” she whispered, “Haruto, he knew. He put everything he could in to that ball, and he knew I'd see all of it …” she trailed off, voice stopped and breathing ragged again. Sakaki saw her eyes shift, and knew she wasn't seeing the walled city anymore; she was back in memory.

“Miho.” He said, shaking her slightly. She shivered and looked up at him. “Don't go back there,” he said, voice quiet, but forceful.

“But I have to.” She said softly, pleadingly. “There were other things in there; he couldn't keep from putting some of his plans in there, and I've seen them.” She frowned. “Something about Kenshio …”

Sakaki glared, and put both of his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “I am not worried about Kenshio,” He said. “She's probably back at the office by now.” He sighed, breaking his gaze and allowing one arm to slip back to her waist to support her. Voice softening considerably, he looked away, “I'm worried about you. At least wait until you're back in the office before you think about it again.”

He felt her gaze on his face for a moment, and then more weight settled on his arm. “All right,” she said quietly.

They kept walking.

~^~

It had been half an hour since he'd called Michael when they got back to the vehicles. Sakaki felt like it had been an eternity since they'd left them, at a run, to find their wayward co-worker. He wondered if Karasuma was thinking the same thing; she had been attacked through her mind. He knew she was traumatized, despite the brave face she put on; one hand was still clenched tightly at the base of her neck, as if she could hold all of her fear there on a leash. Still, her reliance on his support seemed to have decreased, she was almost walking entirely without his help. They drew even with her car, and he slowly withdrew his arm from behind her, thinking that she would want to stand on her own before getting into her car. To his surprise, though, as he began to step away, her hand shot out and drew him back, her head against his shoulder and fingers twisting in his jacket. She was shaking again, though only just, as if the thought of losing contact with him scared her. Every nerve clamoring in confusion, he looked down, opening his mouth to ask her what was wrong.

“No,” she said, before a breath could leave his lips. “Just, stay.”

He closed his mouth. Hesitantly, he wrapped both arms around her frame, drawing her in a little closer. Movement ceased for a moment, and he was happy to stay still, when, before, it seemed like everything had been moving fast.

After a moment, she drew a deep breath and sighed. “Thank you,” she said, into his jacket.

He wasn't sure what to say in such a moment, and said, “Its fine.”

“Is it, really?” she asked, voice still muffled against him.

The question gave him pause. He thought for a moment, and reached the same conclusion that his first instincts had screamed at him. “Yes,” he said finally, “yes, its fine.” `More than fine,' he thought, `if you wanted me to be perfectly honest and blunt, I'd say I was happy to hold you.' He quickly pushed those thoughts from his mind.

She nodded, apparently not trusting her voice, and breathed deeply again. It felt wonderful to be held. She'd just been proverbially shot down by a rubber ball; and her mind felt like it was in shreds. At this point, human contact should have been the last thing she could want. Somehow, though, she had become fond of the oddly clean smell of his clothes and peaceful feeling that radiated from him. He cared passionately about things; and he had shed the naiveté that had kept him from doing things about it. And it was nice, because she could feel that from him; there wasn't anything viciously deceitful, and no ulterior motives.

`Since when did he become a super hero?' she thought to herself. She couldn't answer, and didn't want to. Instead, she pressed herself into his shoulder once, memorizing the way it felt to be held by another human being and then pulled away. In a moment of pain, he'd helped her, and she had accepted the help. Now it was time to get up and go on. She hoped she'd never need to do such a thing again, but a part of her was sad at the prospect of being an island again. `It's better for me, this way,' she thought, `I can't get hurt, he can't get hurt, everything can go back to normal.'

She wore a very pensive look as she nodded her thanks to him and stepped to her car door; opening it, but stopping half-way in. He wondered if perhaps she had slipped back into the memory and grabbed the door, stopping her. She looked up at him in surprise; “Miss Karasuma?” his voice was a gentle question.

For a moment, she looked at him, confused. “Miho,” she finally said softly, lips and voice moving of their own accord.

“Pardon?”

She looked surprised, though whether at herself or at him, he couldn't tell. “You've proved yourself to be more than a partner, especially in the last 24 hours,” she said, face deepening seriously. “When you can, use my given name.” She suddenly smiled wryly, “I don't hear it enough anyway.”

Stunned, he cocked his head to the side. `Maybe I should get used to the idea of surprises,' he thought slowly, `she's more full of them than I suspected.'

“All right,” he said finally, “but only if you call me Haruto.” He smirked, “I guess I don't hear my given name enough, either.”

She nodded, hand coming off of the window and into the car. “Fine,” she said, and disappeared, sitting down and starting the engine. The door closed, and Sakaki was left standing in the alleyway, not knowing quite what to make of the situation.

~^~

“It was a malicious move. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes.”

Kosaka sighed. “And why did it work?” he asked. Karasuma looked down, her eyes clearly showing shame, but her voice was even as she answered.

“It's a long story, sir.”

“Well, we certainly have time,” the man said sternly, then rubbed a temple. “I'm sorry, Miho, but I really must know.”

Karasuma took a breath, and let it out slowly. Sakaki, leaning against the doorway, noticed her hands clenching once, then twice, in her lap. She doesn't want to tell him, he realized, she's afraid he might turn on her. He sympathized with her. While her craft was not dangerous to others, physically, if she lost her mind to too many scars, she could become a danger. He was half afraid of his own craft acting out. Though he rarely had need of it, his craft was fairly strong, and he had no interest in hurting others.

“Before the Factory,” she began, voice strong, “my craft had begun to decline. I thought that perhaps it had reached its peak and was now going to leave me in peace,” she sighed. “From Single-eye's attack, though, I have learned that the Orbo was the true reason.”

“The Orbo?!” Kosaka said in surprise, “How, though? You were never shot!” He paused, realizing that she had been in the Factory for a very long time. “Were you?”

She shook her head to indicate that he was correct. “No, I wasn't. However, even when held in a capsule, it still had an effect in dampening powers.” There was a pause as she gathered her thoughts. “Also, when the factory was producing Orbo, it released vapors from the process into the air surrounding the city. While it had no adverse affects, per se, it did dampen powers that were within seeds and craft users that lived nearer the Factory.”

Kosaka took a moment to digest what his employee had just said. Sakaki closed his eyes tiredly, waiting for the man's consensus. “Well,” he grunted finally, “this explains quite a bit.” Sakaki heard him move to sit down. “The richer neighborhoods are within reach of the winds, I'm sure. Probably yet another reason why the walled city was such a hot spot of witch activity; it's on the other side of the city.”

Karasuma nodded.

“But how does Single-eye know all of this?” the balding man mused. “He's a witch; technically, he shouldn't even know about the Factory.”

Sakaki started. He hadn't thought of that, and, remembering Miho's insistence that Kenshio had been in the emotions on the ball, looked sharply to the girl. She was standing at what looked suspiciously like parade rest, hands in a fist at the base of her back, legs shoulder-width apart, staring at Miho intensely. She either ignored, or did not notice, Sakaki's gaze, and her face did not change as Miho spoke.

“I don't know. There is an informant; an accomplice, but we knew that all ready. He is awakening people, and the other person probably has a complimentary power to calm them once their powers have come out.” She shook her head, and then turned her gaze to the replacement. “You were somewhere in that ball; I never heard what happened; did you see him?”

Kenshio nodded sharply. “I did. He was not able to use his power on me; I saw that I was in a danger that I couldn't protect myself from, so I retreated.”

“You have power, why didn't you use it?” Kosaka asked bluntly.

She narrowed her eyes slightly; Sakaki could have sworn there was disgust there. “I did not have time, and I do not have the ability to block an invisible attack. My ice does not have the same shielding power as your last craft user's power.” Everyone winced. She was talking about Robin, apparently never having gotten the message that the girl was still a sore subject in the office. “I knew that his powers did not physically manifest when I smelled olives where they should not have been. I did what any good hunter should do when they do not have the upper-hand and they do not believe that they can gain it. I turned and ran.”

“Fine,” Kosaka said gruffly, obviously mollified at having his veiled accusations so deftly knocked aside.

Sakaki sighed; something didn't seem to fit. He wasn't quite sure what it was, though, and decided to let it simmer in the back of his mind until he could articulate it. Karasuma had a frown on her face; he suspected that she felt the same. Michael was frowning but, not knowing why or how, the reason eluded him. Perhaps he had questions also; after all, he probably had more raw information on what had happened. Kosaka, sitting at the head of the table, finally grunted.

“Very well,” he said. “Michael, drag out everything you can on Single-eye.” Michael nodded, and Kosaka turned to the replacement. “Kenshio, I don't want you in the walled city, but go to the neighborhoods and try to dig up some information. I want to know as much as we can about his accomplice of his.” She nodded and strode briskly from the room, heels clicking on the cement. Kosaka looked to the senior hunters, and sighed. “I know you two have had a hell of a day, but could you stay here and make up a report?” He looked down to Miho, “Especially you, Miss Karasuma. I want to know as much as you can remember from that scry.”

She looked up and nodded slowly. She looked like death warmed over, but stood up and smoothed out her jacket. “Of course. I'll …” she swallowed, “I'll start right away.”

Kosaka apparently didn't notice her hesitation, but Sakaki and Michael did. As the balding man left the room, they both drew a little closer.

“I don't believe her.” Michael said bluntly.

“Her story checks out,” Karasuma said quietly, “but I think something's wrong too.”

“But, what?” Sakaki joined in, “I know something is wrong here, but I can't put my finger on it.”

Michael sighed. “I can tell you why. It's because you walked right past her and didn't see her.” He sat next to one of the computers and pulled up a map, on it a glowing red line.”

“This is her path,” he said, pointing at the line. “She went by you, Karasuma, and then you, Sakaki. And neither of you saw her, right?” They both shook their heads. Michael growled. “I think I know what happened, and something is defiantly fishy.” He tapped the keyboard for a moment, and blue lines came up, highlighting the red and tracing a grid that snaked around the map of the walled city in a strange pattern.

“What is that?” Sakaki asked, leaning closer.

“The sewer lines of the walled city. Just as I thought,” Michael said. He swiveled in his chair to look at them. “Why would Kenshio be down in the sewers? And why does her flight path start where you two encountered Single-Eye?”

“There are some informants in the sewers, I suppose …” Karasuma said, trailing off.

“But they're mostly crazies, and how would she know about them so quickly?” Sakaki finished the thought for her, and she nodded.

“Certainly information gathering was one of her recommendations when she came,” she said quietly, “but that's just unnatural.”

“That, and wouldn't Single-Eye at least somewhat pursue her?” Sakaki said, “She said that she thought she was being followed.” He crossed his arms, “I don't like it.”

“You're right, and neither do I.” Karasuma said, and stood up. “But there isn't much we can do about it right now.” She steadied herself on the wall, and smiled at the two tiredly. “I've got a report to write, and then I'm going to go home.” With that, she began to walk from the room. Sakaki stood and followed, excusing himself on grounds of wanting to help her. Michael looked after them, cocking his head.

`Since when do they finish each-other's sentences?' he thought in slight confusion. In the year since Sakaki had come, Michael had never heard such an exchange of thoughts between the partners. `Well, I suppose it's about time, anyhow,' he finally decided, and turned back to his computer.

~^~

“What the hell was that little encounter!? I told you specifically not to confront them!”

“And I told you, I'm doing this for two reasons; revenge and money.”

“I don't give a fuck what you're doing it for, you're doing it, and you're doing it under my orders.”

A chuckle permeated the night air. “Oh so, just because you're betraying the boss, that gives you the right to order me around? Remember whose craft is stronger here.”

There was a growl, and the sudden click of the safety of a gun. “I know your power nearly as well as the back of my hand. I could kill you before you could truly affect me.”

“But then your little liberation would be ruined.”

“I would find a way.”

“Then go ahead; do it. I'm not afraid to die.”

“As if I would let a bastard like you die because you asked it of me.”

“Bitch.”

“That's right. Now tell me why you did it. If you had wanted to kill them, you could have, easily.”

“As if a spy like you would understand.”

There was a grunt as something hard met soft stomach tissue. A gun cocked and was set against a temple, steel grey eyes meeting a lone wandering brown. “Tell me, now.” He spit on her shoe, she didn't even glance down, keeping what part of his gaze that she could. “Tell me, or I swear I will freeze your body limb by limb; each finger will fall off from frostbite, and each toe will break off in your shoes.”

“I was giving her information.” The man finally said.

“Why?” There was a hint of surprise in her voice. “You said revenge. Why would you do such a thing?”

“For having such knowledge of espionage, you do not see?” She glared at him. “My revenge does not lie with them.”

“They hunted you just like the others; how can your revenge not lie with them?”

“Let me ask you, madam spy, if you wished to stop gears from spinning, would you remove the belts that drive them, one by one?” He paused, and then answered the question himself, “No, you would remove the one gear that spins them all, thus stopping the whole works, and you would let the smaller gears work against the one that leads them.”

Another pause, and ... slowly ... , the safety of the gun clicked on again. “And you want to set some gears turning the other way.”

“Yes.”

There was a sigh. “I do not understand you. I have seen them at work, they could not possibly turn.”

“Yes, but you did not see her at work with them. She taught them much, in her passing.”

A growl. “They did not care about her. They do not care for witches at all, they are witches, they have seen and felt her, and yet they still hunt. They are monsters.”

The man laughed; a rolling thunder that sounded out of place in the dark night and even darker conversation.

“You find something funny?”

A short guffaw more, and he turned his good eye on her, blazing fury. “You say that you want liberation, you say that you want community. You want us all to live in harmony, and yet here you stand before me, wishing ill upon those that you need to make peace with the most?!” He looked away. “You fanatics disgust me.”

She trained a gaze on him again. “Fine. Hate me. I brought you back from madness, pay you to help me, and you question me. So long as you do your job, I do not care what you think of me.”

He was silent for a moment. “Watch them; you will see; they could be turned to us.”

“Go to hell.”

“Only when I can drag you down with me.” Silence. A shift in weight. “So, are we going to be able to do anything tonight? Or are you going to be the spoiled brat and run?”

“I am not a spoiled brat, and I do not run.”

“You did this morning.”

“It would have been fine, if you had not sought them out.”

“I explained my reasons. I see no reason to justify them further. Now, do we have someone or not?”

A pause, as if contemplating another awakening. It was tempting, she couldn't deny the power and pride she felt, awakening witches to their rightful power, teaching them control. But they had very nearly been found out today, and they couldn't risk it. The blood of witches was going nowhere. A sigh. “No. We need to lay low for a time. We will continue in a fortnight.”

~^~

I believe that Auntie_mom betaed this. Yep.

Thank you Auntie!