Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Living Shinigami ❯ Kurikara ( Chapter 13 )

Living Shinigami

Chapter Thirteen

Kurikara

Everyone stood at a standstill for a few heart-stopping moments, Tsuzuki’s twelve shiki subtly moving between their master and the newcomer. Then the silence was quite efficiently shattered when Duo broke between Byakko and Rikugo with a shout. “Kurikara!”

The dragon opened his arms to receive the future shinigami as Duo dropped to his knees to hug him around the middle. Kurikara sent a final glare at Sohryu before he focused on the young man in his arms, face softening. “Hijiri. Your hair’s gotten so long.”

“I’ve never cut it,” Duo said, releasing his shiki and standing up. Swift fingers caught the end of his braid and Wufei saw his morning’s work undone.

Kurikara slowly circled his master before nodding in approval. Claw tipped fingers hooked a loop of hair, lifting auburn silk to the lamplight. He smiled. “I knew you’d be beautiful.”

Duo flushed, playfully slapping Kurikara’s hands away. “Don’t try to flatter me, Kuri-chan.”

“Not flattery when it’s true, Kenko.” (1)

“Kuri-chan,” Duo whined with his best attempt to glare. At the dragon’s smirk, he sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Wufei, I want you to meet Kurikara, my shiki. Kuri-chan, this is Chang Wufei of the Dragon clan of L5.”

Wufei tried not to fidget as he as examined by the child-like man, especially when the single open eye fixed on his face. “I’ll want to talk to you, later.” His focus turned back to Deathscythe’s former pilot. “For now, we’re going to find a corner somewhere and you are going to fill me in on the past sixteen years.”

Duo didn’t resist as he was dragged off. “Well, Tsuzuki said, blinking. “At least nothing’s broken.”

-

As it turned out, Tokyo was one of the few major cities where the Winner family did not own a house. The four of them found lodgings at a small hotel that had clearly seen better days.

“We’ve stayed in worse,” Quatre said as Millardo stared at the building in disbelief. “During the war.”
“It looks like opening the door might make it fall to pieces,” the former OZ said frankly. “Surely the Preventors can afford better than this for its top agents.”

“Tokyo branch has always run on a tight budget,” Heero said, tossing Trowa’s bag to him before shutting the trunk of their taxi and hitting the top to send it off. “There are a lot of unexplained building damages they have to repair.”

“Any similarities to the mysterious damage to the alley walls where Duo and Wufei were attacked?” Quatre asked as Trowa slid open the inn door, which, thankfully enough, did not cause the building to fall down in front of them.

“Frighteningly similar,” Heero said flatly as they followed the clown inside. A woman looking as old as the inn greeted them and directed the group to a pair of rooms and informed them that dinner was at five.

After settling in (read, setting up security around the old fashioned inn), the four met in Heero and Millardo’s room.

“Tokyo’s a big city. Where do we start searching?” Quatre asked.

“You and Trowa should head straight to Tokyo General to see about the birth certificate,” Heero said, unfolding a map of the city. “Millardo and I will start off with some of the local shrines.”

“Shrines?” the smaller blond asked, startled.

“Duo may have dressed as a Catholic priest during the war, but he has a small Shinto shrine in his closet at the apartment,” Millardo said, placing his chin on folded hands. “He prays to Enma Daioh.”

-

Wufei had to admit that he felt little at odds in the imaginary world without Duo to be his guide, but the feeling began to fade as he found people to tell him about their most mysterious pilot.

“I taught him to braid his hair,” Tenko informed the mortal cheerfully. “Nanny taught me so that I could help with my hair.”

“Tsuzuki-san used to bring Hijiri-kun here quite a bit to play with Tenko,” Kijin said. “There are very few children in Meifu, and most of them only look like children, having died young.”

“Solo,” Wufei said suddenly, remembering gold eyes and blonde hair. The two shiki looked at him in confusion. “On Duo’s birthday, there was a young man who Duo apparently knew from when they were children. We ran into a boy the next day with the same name and face who claimed to be the man’s nephew, but he was acting too old to be a child.”

Kijin nodded. “He was probably a shinigami, using a fuda to appear older.”

“A lot of L2’s shinigami over the years have been children, but they usually don’t last long,” Tenko said, grave for a child. “They work for the American ministry. L1 belongs to the Japanese branch, L3 to... the Italian branch? L4 goes to the Arabian branch. They haven’t split up like the human world did.” (2)

“I take it that L5 belongs to the Chinese branch then,” Wufei said, actually rather curious about the matter.

“It’s still a bit of a mess because of the destruction, but things should be straightened out by the time reconstruction is done, yes,” Kijin said. “In fact, we’ve met L5’s shinigami. They’re interesting people, though I heard that one of the ones we met transferred five or six years ago.”

“Do you know why?”

“A noblewoman of his clan demanded the position and challenged him for it. She won.”

-

To Quatre, Tokyo General seemed more museum than hospital, and a good portion of the nurses and doctors they saw passing by looked to belong in either as inhabitants.

“Excuse me, but we’re from the Preventors’ Headquarters,” he said politely to the aging receptionist, careful to speak clearly in case she was hard of hearing. “Commander Une sent an inquiry about a birth certificate.” Getting no response, he opened his mouth to repeat his statement louder before getting cut off.

“I heard you fine the first time, boy,” she said, narrowing grey eyes at his uniform. He and Trowa had donned them before leaving to give a more official and united front in case there were difficulties. “And I know the one your boss meant. Why should I give it to you?”

At a loss for words, Quatre’s mind spun for a possible reason that might satisfy the woman. Thankfully, Trowa stepped in to rescue him. “We believe that it may belong to one of our fellow agents, whose origins were lost during the war. His coloring is very distinctive, so there should be little trouble figuring if it’s him.”

Pursing her lips, the woman gave them a sharp look before turning to shout to the one person under fifty in the building, a young twenty year-old intern who looked to have seen better days. “Mai, get me the Tsuzuki kid’s file.”

Tsuzuki. Sharing a glance, both pilots filed away the name in their minds. Was it Duo’s real surname?