Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Blind Target ❯ Chapter 1
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: WolvenJaganshi 
After a serial killer hits home, Kurama fights to find any leads that might bring him closure.
Anime/Manga: Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Police / Hentai / Suspense | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.11.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.7K | Visits: 292 | Status: Completed
After a serial killer hits home, Kurama fights to find any leads that might bring him closure.
Anime/Manga: Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Police / Hentai / Suspense | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.11.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.7K | Visits: 292 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho or any of its characters. I'm simply a fan that likes to use them for my own means.
Authors Note: Unlike it was originally planned, Blind Target will not be a yaoi fic which was one of the reasons it had to be reposted and besides the fact I ran it through spellcheck.. The only reason it still has a hentai rating is because of rape in the later chapters and people anymore are so touchy. There aren't alot of good crime fics out there so I took the liberty to write another one! Enjoy! ^^
Running....
He was running...
His chest hurt, his heart pounded...
Run. Just Run,
Don't stop, never stop running.
An endless race,
Never stop,
He's always there,
Keep running....run....run until it's too late...
Running....That was all he could do.
Lights behind him, bright, voices, loud and coming
They were coming, HE was coming...
Just run.... run to death...
"Run while you still can..."
"Minamino wake up! Hey wake up!"
Who was that.....? Running...
"Yo Minamino!" A rough shove to the ground brought Kurama back to reality. He looked up into the eyes of his partner, Officer Densuke Miyahara, and groaned. His head pounded and reading the boy's pained expression, Densuke brought over a glass of water and gave it to him, depositing two pain pills into his hand. Kurama gratefully took the medicine and accepted the hand to bring him to his feet.
"You okay? You were havin' a nightmare again." Densuke asked.
"Yes.... Quite fine now thank you." Kurama looked down on his desk at the pictures of the latest body recovered from a crime scene, scanning them over carefully.
"I see you've met our new case. Good, we got a lotta work today so I hope you enjoyed the beauty sleep. Jogger called in about two hours ago; coroner wasted no time getting their asses over to the scene with this string of murders anymore and released the body. M.E.* has it right now." Densuke explained setting down a mug of coffee for his partner. Kurama nodded and examined the pictures. The woman might have been something to look at when she was alive, but he couldn't say the same for her now. Her face had practically been beaten in and her long black hair was matted in the pool of blood around her head, her arms were bent in odd directions and covered in small burns likely from a cigarette. One of her legs was scraped pretty much from knee to ankle and the other showed signs of a loss of circulation. Small cuts also covered her body, likely from a knife, whip, or running through undergrowth. Kurama studied the pictures a moment more and looked back to Densuke, a new horror in his eyes.
"We have an identification?"
"No... not that I know of."
"Dammit!" Kurama looked back at the pictures and his eyes clenched shut. Densuke watched in surprise as his partner, the cool and collective Kurama, begin to shake and tears leaked from his eyes. The man walked over and placed a hand on Kurama's shoulder, pulling away as the few tears were followed by a stream of others and Kurama quietly sobbed.
"You know.... don't you?" Kurama didn't answer, just tried to regain his composure, pushing back his long red mane and blinking bloodshot emerald eyes. Densuke stepped back, not wanting the boy to feel as if he were pressured to answer that minute. Densuke strained his ears to hear soft mumbles coming from his partner as more tears choked him. By now other officers had stopped what they were doing and were looking at the two, some having the courage to gather around him and quietly inquire what the matter was.
"Kurama?" Densuke pressed.
"She....She was.... m-my..." Kurama swallowed hard.
"Yes..?"
"My mother.... Shiori...” Densuke blinked and then put an arm across Kurama's back, the redhead shoving away and heading from the office to the morgue. It couldn't be true; he had to see for himself, it couldn't be true. No, it couldn't be, not her, not like this. The doctor looked up as Kurama burst in, the boy's eyes widening in horror at the sight before him. His knees felt weak, his stomach flipped and lurched and more tears welled into his eyes. The once smooth happy face, her soft gentle form, it was all Shiori, all his beloved mother. All those threats, all he had done to protect her, was worthless. All the time he spent protecting his mother from the threats he received both in court and out had been for nothing.
And now she was dead. She deserved to live a long happy life, if only I hadn't gone on this track, if only I hadn't been an officer, Kurama told himself mentally, this may never have happened. Not like this. He rose after a few moments and walked stiffly over to the table where Shiori's body lay, picking up a lifeless hand and looking into her beaten face. He brought her hand to his lips, shivering at the chill and laid it down, closing his eyes.
"Thank you..."
"Don't mention it. Are you happy now?" Kurama minutely nodded and forced himself away from the table, Densuke stopping him as the boy headed back to his office.
"Hold it Rama. You don't need to be here now. Go home, get some rest. I'll handle this for now." Kurama pushed the hand away, regarding Densuke with an icy serpentine glare.
"No, I'm finding the bastard that did this."
"Kurama you ain't in any shape to do this. I know you're mad but you're in no condition to go running after some serial killer that may very well be expecting this." Densuke grabbed his arm again, nails biting into the boy's arm but Kurama's face remained impassive as stone, his deep eyes burning with a wild flame. Wrenching his arm from Densuke's grip, Kurama stalked down the stairs to the parking lot and got in his car, nails death gripping the steering wheel. It was all too sudden, too soon for him to be able to cope with Shiori's death but he knew he would have to in order to find the bastard that killed her. And Kurama would make sure he would pay, with every inch of the strength he had Kurama would make sure he found who brought harm to his beloved mother and would be lucky if the infuriated boy didn't kill them first. They would suffer as he was sure Shiori did, a swift death was beyond their privilege.
Starting his car, Kurama headed out into the busy streets of Tokyo to his small house secluded by varieties of different flora, knowing Densuke was right in the concern of his mental condition currently. Kurama entered the house and kicked off his shoes, falling onto the couch to stare at a picture of Shiori. She had taught him everything, had loved him, had never laid a hand on anyone and even brought harm to herself to save him.** But just as soon as he had come to love her he had found out just how fragile human life truly was as he now mourned and ached at her passing. Shiori would never have wanted him to mope he knew, but the pain was too much and he couldn’t bear to think of what pain she must have gone through.
Shiori had been on a trip to see a family friend in Kyoto and Kurama had supposed to go and greet her welcome after he got off work. He was supposed to see her alive and well, not cold and lifeless on the table in some morgue. It was too soon.... Kurama buried his face in his arms and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him so he could get away from this world without her, so he could see her again as spirits did in the dreams of their loved ones. Sleep finally took him minutes later.
Running...
A shadow running...
Help... it wants help....
Fire, what is this fire?
Run....
Just run...
Kurama jumped awake from the throws of the nightmare's grasp, and he closed his eyes as the horrid pain in his chest settled. He had not seen his mother; instead he had seen someone running again. What did this mean? Had his mother been run to death just as this person was? Was this person still alive? The house was dim with the dismal moonlight and reminded Kurama of the loneliness he felt in his heart. He sat up and stared into the dark hallway through the kitchen at the moon half hidden by dark clouds, thinking about what this never-ending dream could mean. He continued to stare into the night sky, his attention finally broken by a rustling heard outside his kitchen window. A loud crash and the breaking of many of his rose bushes brought Kurama to full attention and he grabbed his pistol from the holster around his waist he had neglected to remove and switched off the safety.
Nothing.
He waited a little longer.
Resounding footsteps. Whoever it was, they were in a hurry to leave. Kurama switched the safety back on his weapon and climbed up into his room, setting the pistol on the nightstand and throwing off his work uniform. Curling into bed he lay awake and listened to the calls and songs of the nightlife from outside his open window until sleep again took him.
Running...
"You look like someone ran you to death, you okay Minamino?" Densuke asked the next morning as the younger officer arrived at the precinct. He nodded but inside he felt as if he had really been the one running to escape this invisible captor. He couldn't tell Densuke, the man would surely think he was still ensnared in grief. The two men headed up to the DNA lab, Kurama's stomach doing flips as they entered.
"Well?" Miyahara asked as they came in.
"Evidence of rape, this woman went through hell." the technician, Yomiji, told them and Kurama put a hand over his mouth, fighting back a wave of nausea. As if he didn't feel bad enough in failing to properly protect Shiori, he now knew the full extent of what had happened to his beloved mother and it sickened him. Densuke nodded and shooed Kurama from the room, sensing his unease. Kurama stood outside the lab, fighting back more angry tears burning the corners of his eyes, this was becoming too much to bear knowing just how much he failed to protect Shiori. How much pain had she endured before finally given the gift of death? How long had it taken death to finally grace her and end her of the pain? His clenched eyes opened at Densuke's hand on his shoulder, the older officer looking down into his emerald orbs. The hand tightened then dropped, Miyahara's long blonde ponytail swayed with his walk as he walked down a hall and rounded a corner out of sight.
Yomiji appeared in the doorway moments later, watching Kurama intently through his spectacled eyes.
"Just think of it this way Minamino, at least she isn't suffering anymore."
Yes, Kurama thought, she isn't suffering... But she had been and he hoped she had at least been given the honor of a quick death if not a painless one. Yomiji watched the boy leave before returning to the lab. Kurama met up with Densuke outside his office, the American inhaling deeply on a cigarette that he shouldn't have been smoking inside in the first place but it didn't matter to the red head at the minute.
"Any leads?"
"No, not yet. We been lookin' and we're startin' to expect that it might be the work of a member of some big-name drug lord from overseas that just so wonderfully decided to flee from America. What a place I come from eh? In any case, there have been other reports of attacks like these as I'm quite sure you're so wonderfully aware of." Densuke tossed a manila file on a nearby chair. Kurama continued to listen as he leafed through the pages, wincing at some of the states these women had been left in.
"No one's quite sure what this guy's after but seems he's decided to rear his ugly head again."
"I want this man arrested..."
"So do I K'rama but it ain't all that easy. He moves around alot. This was another beauty found outside Kyoto but we think he might be headed out to Osaka."
"Wonderful." Kurama grumbled, slapping the file shut in frustration.
"We'll get 'im. Don't worry."
"Do not try to cheer me...but I thank you." Densuke watched Kurama storm into his office, the older cop leaning on the windowsill nearby and staring down at the busy streets of Tokyo. It had seem like he'd lived in this city all his life although he'd only been in Japan for about three years and not a month went by he didn't in some way compare Tokyo to his hometown of New York City miles and miles away off the Atlantic Coast. He felt bad for his partner. Kurama had only been on the force 6 months and already tragedy struck him. It was times like this he wished he was back home on American soil where there was no one but himself to worry about. He cared for Kurama, but it also hurt him to see the boy in pain. Densuke reached out of the window and put out his cigarette on the stone wall of the precinct, another likeliness of home, and tossed it to the ground. Densuke turned around and stretched with a yawn, heading into his own office to begin yet another long day.
************************************************************* *************************************************************************** *************
*= Medical Examiner
**= It never mentions this in the series (not to my knowledge) but when Kurama was little he was on a stool trying to reach up into the cabinets and knocked a bunch of plates to the floor, falling off the stool in the process. Shiori caught him just before he hit the ground and scratched her arms up very badly on the broken glass.
Wolf: Oh I'm so mean!!!! I know I am!!!! But whatever shall an authoress do? My current ideas and muses say yes but I wish to write for a general audience but it is so hard to come up with a suitable woman for Hiei whom will be coming in fairly soon. Help me before this turns into an Iris Johansen novel! I love her books and have been on a bit of a spree with reading her books so my style is mixing her touch in here. ;_; I always listen to music as I write, currently listening to Jazz, Sting, and my Japanese music most of which have nothing to do with the angsty voice of the story but oh well!!! And what do you think of my Densuke? For those of you confused of how an American has such a Japanese name, he's half American half Japanese but was born and raised in America. ^.^ Reviews are always accepted******************************************************************* *********************************************************
Authors Note: Unlike it was originally planned, Blind Target will not be a yaoi fic which was one of the reasons it had to be reposted and besides the fact I ran it through spellcheck.. The only reason it still has a hentai rating is because of rape in the later chapters and people anymore are so touchy. There aren't alot of good crime fics out there so I took the liberty to write another one! Enjoy! ^^
Running....
He was running...
His chest hurt, his heart pounded...
Run. Just Run,
Don't stop, never stop running.
An endless race,
Never stop,
He's always there,
Keep running....run....run until it's too late...
Running....That was all he could do.
Lights behind him, bright, voices, loud and coming
They were coming, HE was coming...
Just run.... run to death...
"Run while you still can..."
"Minamino wake up! Hey wake up!"
Who was that.....? Running...
"Yo Minamino!" A rough shove to the ground brought Kurama back to reality. He looked up into the eyes of his partner, Officer Densuke Miyahara, and groaned. His head pounded and reading the boy's pained expression, Densuke brought over a glass of water and gave it to him, depositing two pain pills into his hand. Kurama gratefully took the medicine and accepted the hand to bring him to his feet.
"You okay? You were havin' a nightmare again." Densuke asked.
"Yes.... Quite fine now thank you." Kurama looked down on his desk at the pictures of the latest body recovered from a crime scene, scanning them over carefully.
"I see you've met our new case. Good, we got a lotta work today so I hope you enjoyed the beauty sleep. Jogger called in about two hours ago; coroner wasted no time getting their asses over to the scene with this string of murders anymore and released the body. M.E.* has it right now." Densuke explained setting down a mug of coffee for his partner. Kurama nodded and examined the pictures. The woman might have been something to look at when she was alive, but he couldn't say the same for her now. Her face had practically been beaten in and her long black hair was matted in the pool of blood around her head, her arms were bent in odd directions and covered in small burns likely from a cigarette. One of her legs was scraped pretty much from knee to ankle and the other showed signs of a loss of circulation. Small cuts also covered her body, likely from a knife, whip, or running through undergrowth. Kurama studied the pictures a moment more and looked back to Densuke, a new horror in his eyes.
"We have an identification?"
"No... not that I know of."
"Dammit!" Kurama looked back at the pictures and his eyes clenched shut. Densuke watched in surprise as his partner, the cool and collective Kurama, begin to shake and tears leaked from his eyes. The man walked over and placed a hand on Kurama's shoulder, pulling away as the few tears were followed by a stream of others and Kurama quietly sobbed.
"You know.... don't you?" Kurama didn't answer, just tried to regain his composure, pushing back his long red mane and blinking bloodshot emerald eyes. Densuke stepped back, not wanting the boy to feel as if he were pressured to answer that minute. Densuke strained his ears to hear soft mumbles coming from his partner as more tears choked him. By now other officers had stopped what they were doing and were looking at the two, some having the courage to gather around him and quietly inquire what the matter was.
"Kurama?" Densuke pressed.
"She....She was.... m-my..." Kurama swallowed hard.
"Yes..?"
"My mother.... Shiori...” Densuke blinked and then put an arm across Kurama's back, the redhead shoving away and heading from the office to the morgue. It couldn't be true; he had to see for himself, it couldn't be true. No, it couldn't be, not her, not like this. The doctor looked up as Kurama burst in, the boy's eyes widening in horror at the sight before him. His knees felt weak, his stomach flipped and lurched and more tears welled into his eyes. The once smooth happy face, her soft gentle form, it was all Shiori, all his beloved mother. All those threats, all he had done to protect her, was worthless. All the time he spent protecting his mother from the threats he received both in court and out had been for nothing.
And now she was dead. She deserved to live a long happy life, if only I hadn't gone on this track, if only I hadn't been an officer, Kurama told himself mentally, this may never have happened. Not like this. He rose after a few moments and walked stiffly over to the table where Shiori's body lay, picking up a lifeless hand and looking into her beaten face. He brought her hand to his lips, shivering at the chill and laid it down, closing his eyes.
"Thank you..."
"Don't mention it. Are you happy now?" Kurama minutely nodded and forced himself away from the table, Densuke stopping him as the boy headed back to his office.
"Hold it Rama. You don't need to be here now. Go home, get some rest. I'll handle this for now." Kurama pushed the hand away, regarding Densuke with an icy serpentine glare.
"No, I'm finding the bastard that did this."
"Kurama you ain't in any shape to do this. I know you're mad but you're in no condition to go running after some serial killer that may very well be expecting this." Densuke grabbed his arm again, nails biting into the boy's arm but Kurama's face remained impassive as stone, his deep eyes burning with a wild flame. Wrenching his arm from Densuke's grip, Kurama stalked down the stairs to the parking lot and got in his car, nails death gripping the steering wheel. It was all too sudden, too soon for him to be able to cope with Shiori's death but he knew he would have to in order to find the bastard that killed her. And Kurama would make sure he would pay, with every inch of the strength he had Kurama would make sure he found who brought harm to his beloved mother and would be lucky if the infuriated boy didn't kill them first. They would suffer as he was sure Shiori did, a swift death was beyond their privilege.
Starting his car, Kurama headed out into the busy streets of Tokyo to his small house secluded by varieties of different flora, knowing Densuke was right in the concern of his mental condition currently. Kurama entered the house and kicked off his shoes, falling onto the couch to stare at a picture of Shiori. She had taught him everything, had loved him, had never laid a hand on anyone and even brought harm to herself to save him.** But just as soon as he had come to love her he had found out just how fragile human life truly was as he now mourned and ached at her passing. Shiori would never have wanted him to mope he knew, but the pain was too much and he couldn’t bear to think of what pain she must have gone through.
Shiori had been on a trip to see a family friend in Kyoto and Kurama had supposed to go and greet her welcome after he got off work. He was supposed to see her alive and well, not cold and lifeless on the table in some morgue. It was too soon.... Kurama buried his face in his arms and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him so he could get away from this world without her, so he could see her again as spirits did in the dreams of their loved ones. Sleep finally took him minutes later.
Running...
A shadow running...
Help... it wants help....
Fire, what is this fire?
Run....
Just run...
Kurama jumped awake from the throws of the nightmare's grasp, and he closed his eyes as the horrid pain in his chest settled. He had not seen his mother; instead he had seen someone running again. What did this mean? Had his mother been run to death just as this person was? Was this person still alive? The house was dim with the dismal moonlight and reminded Kurama of the loneliness he felt in his heart. He sat up and stared into the dark hallway through the kitchen at the moon half hidden by dark clouds, thinking about what this never-ending dream could mean. He continued to stare into the night sky, his attention finally broken by a rustling heard outside his kitchen window. A loud crash and the breaking of many of his rose bushes brought Kurama to full attention and he grabbed his pistol from the holster around his waist he had neglected to remove and switched off the safety.
Nothing.
He waited a little longer.
Resounding footsteps. Whoever it was, they were in a hurry to leave. Kurama switched the safety back on his weapon and climbed up into his room, setting the pistol on the nightstand and throwing off his work uniform. Curling into bed he lay awake and listened to the calls and songs of the nightlife from outside his open window until sleep again took him.
Running...
"You look like someone ran you to death, you okay Minamino?" Densuke asked the next morning as the younger officer arrived at the precinct. He nodded but inside he felt as if he had really been the one running to escape this invisible captor. He couldn't tell Densuke, the man would surely think he was still ensnared in grief. The two men headed up to the DNA lab, Kurama's stomach doing flips as they entered.
"Well?" Miyahara asked as they came in.
"Evidence of rape, this woman went through hell." the technician, Yomiji, told them and Kurama put a hand over his mouth, fighting back a wave of nausea. As if he didn't feel bad enough in failing to properly protect Shiori, he now knew the full extent of what had happened to his beloved mother and it sickened him. Densuke nodded and shooed Kurama from the room, sensing his unease. Kurama stood outside the lab, fighting back more angry tears burning the corners of his eyes, this was becoming too much to bear knowing just how much he failed to protect Shiori. How much pain had she endured before finally given the gift of death? How long had it taken death to finally grace her and end her of the pain? His clenched eyes opened at Densuke's hand on his shoulder, the older officer looking down into his emerald orbs. The hand tightened then dropped, Miyahara's long blonde ponytail swayed with his walk as he walked down a hall and rounded a corner out of sight.
Yomiji appeared in the doorway moments later, watching Kurama intently through his spectacled eyes.
"Just think of it this way Minamino, at least she isn't suffering anymore."
Yes, Kurama thought, she isn't suffering... But she had been and he hoped she had at least been given the honor of a quick death if not a painless one. Yomiji watched the boy leave before returning to the lab. Kurama met up with Densuke outside his office, the American inhaling deeply on a cigarette that he shouldn't have been smoking inside in the first place but it didn't matter to the red head at the minute.
"Any leads?"
"No, not yet. We been lookin' and we're startin' to expect that it might be the work of a member of some big-name drug lord from overseas that just so wonderfully decided to flee from America. What a place I come from eh? In any case, there have been other reports of attacks like these as I'm quite sure you're so wonderfully aware of." Densuke tossed a manila file on a nearby chair. Kurama continued to listen as he leafed through the pages, wincing at some of the states these women had been left in.
"No one's quite sure what this guy's after but seems he's decided to rear his ugly head again."
"I want this man arrested..."
"So do I K'rama but it ain't all that easy. He moves around alot. This was another beauty found outside Kyoto but we think he might be headed out to Osaka."
"Wonderful." Kurama grumbled, slapping the file shut in frustration.
"We'll get 'im. Don't worry."
"Do not try to cheer me...but I thank you." Densuke watched Kurama storm into his office, the older cop leaning on the windowsill nearby and staring down at the busy streets of Tokyo. It had seem like he'd lived in this city all his life although he'd only been in Japan for about three years and not a month went by he didn't in some way compare Tokyo to his hometown of New York City miles and miles away off the Atlantic Coast. He felt bad for his partner. Kurama had only been on the force 6 months and already tragedy struck him. It was times like this he wished he was back home on American soil where there was no one but himself to worry about. He cared for Kurama, but it also hurt him to see the boy in pain. Densuke reached out of the window and put out his cigarette on the stone wall of the precinct, another likeliness of home, and tossed it to the ground. Densuke turned around and stretched with a yawn, heading into his own office to begin yet another long day.
************************************************************* *************************************************************************** *************
*= Medical Examiner
**= It never mentions this in the series (not to my knowledge) but when Kurama was little he was on a stool trying to reach up into the cabinets and knocked a bunch of plates to the floor, falling off the stool in the process. Shiori caught him just before he hit the ground and scratched her arms up very badly on the broken glass.
Wolf: Oh I'm so mean!!!! I know I am!!!! But whatever shall an authoress do? My current ideas and muses say yes but I wish to write for a general audience but it is so hard to come up with a suitable woman for Hiei whom will be coming in fairly soon. Help me before this turns into an Iris Johansen novel! I love her books and have been on a bit of a spree with reading her books so my style is mixing her touch in here. ;_; I always listen to music as I write, currently listening to Jazz, Sting, and my Japanese music most of which have nothing to do with the angsty voice of the story but oh well!!! And what do you think of my Densuke? For those of you confused of how an American has such a Japanese name, he's half American half Japanese but was born and raised in America. ^.^ Reviews are always accepted******************************************************************* *********************************************************