Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Living Shinigami ❯ Doctor's Tip ( Chapter 20 )

“Living Shinigami”

Chapter Twenty

Doctor’s Tip

The moment he realized just who had entered the room, Wufei fell to the ground with his forehead pressed to the floor in reverence. He paused a moment, waiting for Duo to follow suit.
Duo had no such intent.
The mortal’s heart skipped a beat when his comrade leapt forward to embrace the kami. And, adding to his shock, Enma opened his arms to receive him. “My son. You have returned.”

“I missed you, Otou-sama,” the shinigami whispered into his shoulder, inhaling deeply. The calming scent, indescribable in human terms, finally matched his fondest dreams. He couldn’t help but to bask in the aura of his claimed father, the feeling that dominated his first memory. Reluctantly, he pulled away to stand next to where Wufei was kneeling on the ground. “Otou-sama, this is my guardian, Chang Wufei, Mao’s grandson.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Wufei,” Enma said warmly. “You may stand before me.”

Trying not to let his trembling show, Wufei did as told, taking in the kami’s appearance.

If any one figure from mythology that he’d met that week actually fit what he’d been raised to imagine, King Enma was it. Long dark hair fell straight around him like black water, framing a face worthy of a porcelain doll.

Amber eyes regarded them both calmly. “You will be a suitable guardian for my child.”

Wufei bowed deeply at the waist. “I thank you for saying so, Enma-dono.”

“Alright, pleasantries are done now, so drop the formality,” Duo said, bouncing between them and wrapping an arm around each. “If I have to listen to this for the next ten days or so I’ll go mad.”

Enma laughed softly. “You mean more-so than usual, my son?”

Immediately, the tension was drained from the room and Wufei allowed himself to breath properly as they all moved over to a seating area where they were all poured tea. Duo shot a look to his claimed father when he saw his guardian being served.

“Do not worry, Hijiri,” the kami said as he recognized the question in violet eyes. It’d been the same that he had worn once, when Hijiri was just a babe. “Your guardian is already bound to you. Our fare will not harm him.”

“Really?” Duo asked curiously. He reached out and laid a hand on Wufei’s chest, and the Chinese pilot felt a wash of... something go over him. “Cool.”

Shaking his head, Wufei decided he didn’t want to know and simply focused on drinking his tea. It was going to be a long couple of days.

-

In the living world, Quatre peered worriedly into his own cup of tea, which had long gone cold. Three weeks. Duo and Wufei had been missing for twenty-one days, and there was still no word. Relena had been unable to dig up any gossip, Noin hadn’t heard anything over the communication lines, and even airing their descriptions on television had failed them. It truly was as though the two former pilots had vanished off of the face of the earth.

They’d taken to doing watches over Duo and Wufei’s apartments in case a call came in or, miracle upon miracle, one of them actually showed up. Avoiding the press for a bit, Relena had joined Quatre in his shifts. An upset Quatre was bad enough, but the empath upset and alone was even worse. And with two of the top agents missing, the Preventors couldn’t spare enough to send teams out to watch each location.

Eying the no-longer-steaming cup, Relena sighed. Reaching forward, she pried it from the other blonde’s hands. “Quatre, if you keep letting it get cold, I’m going to stop making more.”

Quatre blinked at her, as though just remembering that he wasn’t alone. “What- Oh. I apologize, Miss Relena. It’s just...”

“You’re worried about them, I know,” she said kindly, standing up with his cold cup and her empty one. “But dwelling on it isn’t going to help them much. I’ll go make another pot of tea. If you let this one get cold, I’ll pour it out on your head.”

He laughed softly at the threat, shaking his head. The former queen had certainly grown up since the war, even if she did still sneak into HQ to leave lunches on Heero’s desk. His embarrassed looks after finding each one made helping her to bribe the front desk people worth it. That and the cooking lessons they begged Trowa to give them. Before then, Quatre could make Arabic coffee and toast and Relena could bake sweets, but that was pretty much it. It was cute, really.

“Could you put some milk in mine this time?” he asked as she left the room for the kitchen. “I’d like to be able to sleep sometime in the near future.”

There was an answering giggle from the other room along with the sound of the faucet and the kettle being put onto a stove burner.

Relena was just returning to the room when Quatre’s cell rang, causing both twenty year-olds freeze before there was a mad scramble for the phone, during with the tea somehow made it safely onto the coffee table. War reflexes won over political and Quatre answered with a formal “Preventor Winner here.”

The voice that replied was smooth and cultured, but old and with the faintest Japanese accent. “Am I correct that you are the ones searching for a Mr. Tsuzuki?”

Quatre heart leapt into his throat. “Yes, that’s correct. Do you have any information on him?”

“I believe that I might,” the man said after a pause. “But I’m rather leery about giving it over the telephone. Would a meeting with you be possible?”

“Of course,” Quatre said immediately. He of all people knew the risks over giving vital information over the phone, especially when it wasn’t a secure line. “Can you come to the Preventors’ Headquarters?”

“I’m afraid that I find it hard to travel these days, and am on L2 at the moment,” the man said, pausing in thought. “Are you familiar with the Maxwell Monument?”

Was he ever. Duo traveled there every year, and at least one of them usually went with the other man, mainly to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid if he got too upset. “Yes, I know the place. I can be there tomorrow.”

“That would be perfect,” the man said. “How is five o’clock for you?”

“Sounds alright,” Quatre said. Then he realized something. “I don’t believe that I’ve caught your name yet, sir.”

Quatre couldn’t help but to shiver at the amusement in the caller’s voice as he wrote down the name on a piece of scratch paper. “Muraki. Doctor Kazutaka Muraki.”