Fantastic Feudal Fusion by ladybattousai

Kutiya

Kutiya

It was August in the city, a blistering, brutal August.  The hard sun bore down on the buildings and streets, melting asphalt and tar like a lit candle melts wax.  It melted the people too.  Their shoulders slumped and heads bowed, they dripped down the sidewalks, taking to whatever scant shade they could find as they searched for refuge from the heat.

Sesshoumaru watched them stagger along through his window’s slatted blinds.  Dressed in gray slacks and vest with a white, long-sleeved shirt, he lifted up his dark fedora and ran his hand through his short, damp hair.  His lip curled in disgust.  He hated the summer.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and under his collar.  The daiyoukai loosened his tie and undid the first two buttons on his shirt.  Seeming disheveled now, he lost the sharpness of his look, but he didn’t care as he reached to adjust the brass, electric fan on his desk.  On a day like this, no one cared about hiring a P.I.  He leaned back in his creaking chair and put his feet up on the corner of his desk.  Then he tipped his hat over his eyes and settled down for a nap.  It was going to be business as usual today.  Of that he was certain.

The fan droned in Sesshoumaru’s ears, stirring him from his fitful and exhausting sleep.  Heat wave or not, it seemed like that was the only kind of sleep he ever had anymore.  And as he resettled himself in his chair, a strange sensation prickled the hairs on the back of his neck.  He wasn’t alone.

The daiyoukai cracked an eye open and looked across his desk at a woman standing in the doorway.  She wore a white, pencil skirt with a matching jacket and a ruffled, red blouse underneath.  Her ebony hair was pinned up with a few wavy tendrils hanging down to frame her lovely face.  The afternoon light beaming through the blinds bathed her in gold and turned her gray eyes into a washed-out shade of green.  She glowed like the burning match he struck as he stared at her in silence.  He pulled a cigarette from the polished case on his desk and lit it.

“The door was open,” she said, and then nodded toward his name printed on its glass panel.  “Are you Detective Sesshoumaru?”  Her accent was thick and foreign.  Eastern European if he had to guess.  An odd trait considering her distinctively Japanese features.

“Yes,” he replied, sticking the cigarette in his mouth.  He took a drag, letting the nicotine feel his lungs.  It was a nasty vice and one of many he was really meaning to quit.

“It sounds like a sneeze,” she remarked.

“What does?”

“Your name.  Do you have a first name too or is that it?”

“What do you want, doll?” he asked coolly though he was clearly annoyed.

“Your services.”

The daiyoukai raised an eyebrow.

“You have quite the reputation.”

He scoffed and took another drag. 

“You don’t believe me?”

“If you knew my reputation, you wouldn’t be here at all.”

“But who would be a better detective to solve a riddle than the one known as The Sphinx?”

His eyes narrowed, and he ground out his cigarette in a heavy, glass ashtray.  “I’m asking you again, what do you want?”

She smiled.  “I want you to find someone.  Her name is Kagome Higurashi and she disappeared five years ago.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yes,” she said, her smile sobering away.  “Like a diamond lost in sand.”

“I’ve no interest in looking for lost girls,” he stated, cutting her off as he reached for another cigarette.  “I’m certain that the police…”

“Have done all that they can do.”  She walked forward, locking eyes with him.  “Or want to do.  One missing girl in a city filled with murder and corruption isn’t worth much.  She won’t earn anyone a promotion or line their pockets.”

“And how do you know I’m any different?” 

“You are.  I’ve heard about your last case with the police before they forced you to resign…”

“That was another time, doll,” he interrupted her icily.  “Now I’m as greedy and selfish as the rest of them, so it would be best if you left.  I’ve other work to attend to.”

He could see the anger and frustration bubbling up in her.  “What other work?  Sleeping?  Smoking?  Drinking?  This office reeks of cigarettes and cheap scotch.” 

“Go.”

She waited, hoping his indifference was a ruse, but to her disappointment, his amber eyes stayed cold and unfeeling.  He didn’t care and her shaky confidence crumbled into sorrow.  Tears welling in her eyes, the woman turned on her heel and headed for the door, but before she passed through it, she stopped.  “She was just a girl no different than Rin was.  And… and her grandfather misses her.” 

Then she was gone.

The daiyoukai let out a lengthy sigh.  His gaze drifted to the window.  He watched the city slog through the heat, and he absently started to button up his shirt and tighten his tie.  Damn women and their crying.  It wouldn’t hurt to look.  He couldn’t sleep anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With his coat slung over his shoulder, Sesshoumaru scaled the tall flight of cement steps leading to the Higurashi Shrine.  The sun was settling on the horizon, turning the sky from hazy blue to shades of yellow and orange.  Still the heat lingered in the air, barely more tolerable than it had been a few hours earlier when he visited the Hall of Records.  Using what stale charm he had and the promise of coffee sometime, he managed to convince the secretary to let him look through the records.  There wasn’t much though.  So little in fact that it seemed suspicious.  Kagome Higurashi didn’t even have a birth certificate.  If he hadn’t found a death certificate for her father with her name on it, he would have doubted that she had even existed.

When he reached the last step, he was welcomed to a beautiful, open courtyard divided by a few old-fashioned buildings.  He lit up a cigarette and started to cross it, leaves crunching under his footfalls as he walked under the canopy of weeping branches above.  There was a sadness that permeated the place.  He could see it in the peeling paint and rusted ornaments.  Even the birds in the trees seemed burdened by it.  This decay that only apathy and misery brings.

Somewhere nearby, he could hear the slow brush of a broom sweeping.  Sesshoumaru followed the sound around one of the buildings, and there he spotted a hunched figure working half-heartedly with his back to him.  He approached the hobbled, old man.

The daiyoukai cleared his throat, hoping to get his attention.

The old man went on sweeping, ignorant of his presence.

“Excuse me?” he spoke up.  “Is this…”

The man continued.

Sesshoumaru reached over and tapped him on the shoulder.  “Is this…”

Startled, the old man shouted and spun around, his broom swinging.  Losing the half-smoked cigarette that hung from his lip, Sesshoumaru stepped back, dodging the battered broom aimed at his head.

“Who are you and what do you want?!” the man yelled, shaking the broom head at the daiyoukai’s face.

“My name is Detective Sesshoumaru.  I’m a private investigator.”

The old man scoffed.  “Did your mother sneeze when the doctor asked her what she was going to name you, boy?”

His eyes narrowed.  “As I was saying, I’m a private investigator, and I was hired to look into a missing person’s case.  Did you know Kagome Higurashi?”

The old man’s face paled before turning into a torrent of anger and anguish.  “Get out!” he shouted, jabbing at Sesshoumaru with the broom.  “I have nothing to say to the likes of you!  You treasure hunters have done enough!  You’ve taken everything!”  Tears spilled down his cheeks.  His shoulders slumped, and he stopped fighting and started to sob.  “And then you took her, the greatest treasure of all.”

The daiyoukai watched the man crumble and his broom clattered onto the ground.

“She was all that I had left,” he muttered.

“You have my sympathy,” Sesshoumaru apologized.  “You should know that I was hired to find her, not hurt her, and I have no intentions of doing otherwise.”

The old man looked up at him, his eyes watery and red.  There was something genuine about the demon’s expression.  Something that he could trust.  He nodded, believing him.

Throwing his coat over his arm, Sesshoumaru took a notebook and pencil from his pocket, and furrowed an eyebrow.  “Now you mentioned treasure hunters.  Who are they and what would they want with Ms. Higurashi?”

“I don’t know what they wanted with my granddaughter, but I know it had something to do with my son’s research.”

“What did your son do?”

“He was an archaeology professor at the university here in Tokyo.  He specialized in…”  The old man thought back, grunting as he tried to remember.  “…Balkan History.  He spent years there, traveling through Italy, Greece and Albania.  Bulgaria though, that’s the place he loved the most.  He raised his family there and only returned to Japan maybe ten years ago.  I know he found something big there and ever since, these blasted treasure hunters keep coming by looking for it.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t know.  He only mentioned it once.  Called it Kutiya.”

“Kutiya?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

“What is it?”

 “I’m done,” the old man said, waving Sesshoumaru away.  “I’m tired and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.  That word just reminds me of what I’ve lost, and I have enough reminders of that when I walk through this place.”

Sesshoumaru nodded.  “That’s understandable; however I do have one more question.”

He waited.

“When did you last see Kagome?”

“She was making a wish under Goshinboku, our sacred tree.”

He nodded again.  “I will find her.”

The old man smiled meekly.  “And I’ll be waiting.”  Groaning, he leaned over and picked up his broom.  Then he steadily began to sweep again, the leaves going everywhere but in a pile.

The daiyoukai tipped his hat in farewell, and put his notebook and pencil away before heading back toward the steps.  In his coat, he felt for a metal flask and took a sip of the warm sake inside.  Like the cigarettes, it was another nasty vice, one that he was meaning to quit.  He took another swig.  But not today. 

When he arrived at the stairs, he sauntered down them, lost in thought.

“Kutiya,” he said under his breath.  There was an exotic quality to the word.  Its syllables alone seemed to invite mystery…and danger.  Well, he had a new lead at least.  Tokyo University.  Maybe someone there knew the professor, and better yet, knew what Kutiya was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sesshoumaru’s shoes echoed through the hallway as he walked through the university’s archaeology department.  On his left, the early morning light beamed in through tall windows, turning the marble floor gleaming white.  To his right, he noticed different display cases embedded in the walls.  Trinkets and antiquities filled each one.  Most of them were from Japan, such as old, rusted swords and textiles from ancient kimonos.  Yet the further he went, the farther the artifacts hailed from.  Soon he spotted simple, African statues and arrowheads from the Americas.  But when he saw the distinctive pottery shards belonging to ancient Greece, he read the strip of paper in his hand again.

“Room 157,” he said and looked up at the next door past the case.  On its sign, it read ‘157’, and the daiyoukai smirked.  He strode up to it and knocked.

Chaos erupted inside as things clattered and rustled.  He could hear a girl giggling and a man hushing her before nervously shouting.  “Hold on a minute!”

Lighting up a cigarette, Sesshoumaru waited.

Then the door burst open, and a half-dressed coed rushed out, grinning as she made her sprint of shame to the nearest bathroom.

Disheveled and anxious, a young man in a sweater vest and crooked bowtie greeted the daiyoukai.  “Good morning...”  He frowned.  “There’s no smoking in the building.”

Taking another drag, the demon ignored him and brushed past to step into the office.  Papers and supplies were strewn about, and to his acute sense of smell, the tang of sex clung in the air.  He wrinkled his nose.  Humans needed to learn about proper ventilation.

“Who are you?” the young man asked, more irritated than embarrassed now.

“My name is Detective Sesshoumaru,” he replied.

The man’s expression twisted with confusion.  “What kind of name is that?  It sounds like a…”

“I’m a private detective,” he interrupted.  “And I’m looking into the disappearance of a young woman by the name of Kagome Higurashi.”

“Kagome Higurashi?”

“You knew her?”  He took out his notepad.

“I knew her father,” the young man corrected.  “He was my advisor a few years ago when I was working toward my doctorate.”

“So you’re the new specialist on Balkan History, Professor…”

“Just call me Miroku, and yes, I am.”

The daiyoukai nodded, jotting it down.  “As his former student, you must be reasonably familiar with his research.”

“Ah, yes.  He was quite the pioneer, and I’m hoping to do him and his work justice.”

“In that case, you must know about Kutiya.”

Miroku blanched.

And the demon smiled.  “What is it?”

“I must go,” the young man blurted out and made for the door.

Sesshoumaru caught him by the arm and wrenched him back.  “What is it?” he asked again.

“Look, I realize that you’re a very pleasant, though slightly imposing guest, but I have work to do.  Research doesn’t research itself.”

“It can wait.”

“I can call for security.”

“You won’t.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I will offer you a deal.  You tell me what I wish to know, and I will keep your romantic liaisons with your students a secret.”

Miroku swallowed and silently cursed his libido.

“Deal?”

“Even if I accept your deal, it’s dangerous.  More dangerous than losing my position here.”

Sesshoumaru turned and shut the office door.  “I will keep everything a secret.”

A long moment passed, and then Miroku finally sighed.  “What do you want to know?”

“What is Kutiya?”

“It’s Bulgarian for box.”

The daiyoukai’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s what it means, and truthfully that’s all anyone knows.  It’s a box.”

“Why does anyone care about an ancient box?”

“Ancient has nothing to do with it.  You have to ask yourself why anyone cares about a box at all.  Then you realize that it’s not about the box, but about what’s inside of it.”

“Treasure.”

“Just like in Egypt’s Valley of the Kings.  An archaeologist finds a nondescript slab of limestone in a sea of sand, and suddenly, King Tutankhamen is discovered.  An entire tomb filled with priceless riches.  Ever since then that’s all anyone cares about.  Treasure hunters and thrill seekers are combing the globe, searching for their share of wealth and glory. 

“But Higurashi-sensei wasn’t like them.  He cared about the culture and the people.  He was able to learn from them, and then search in places others would never look.  It’s how he found Kutiya.”

Sesshoumaru’s pencil stopped and he looked up.  “And no one knows what’s in it?  The professor never told you?”

Miroku shook his head.  “No, he kept it a secret even from me.”  He paused.  “But there are theories.”

The daiyoukai waited.

“Well, the legend harks from the time of the Macedonian expansion and the conqueror, Alexander the Great.  He was one of the most revered leaders from ancient times.  I mean, his success in conquering everything from the Balkan Peninsula to India is astounding and unprecedented at the time.  It was so amazing that it was rumored that his army had a secret weapon.  Something that gave him limitless power.  What that power was is anyone’s guess, but according to the myth, he kept it in a box.  Kutiya.

“After Alexander died in Babylon in 323 BC, his belongings were sent back to Macedonia, but at some point in present day Bulgaria, Kutiya was lost.  Some suggest that its disappearance is why Macedonia fell into decline a few years later and were then conquered by the rising Roman power.”

“Limitless power.”

Miroku shrugged.  “So it’s said.  In the form of a small jewel.”

“And now its discoverer is dead and his daughter is missing.”

“The police investigated Higurashi-sensei’s death.  They ruled it an accident.  I don’t know anything about his daughter, Kagome.”

Sesshoumaru raised a brow.

“Look, I don’t chase every girl I see,” he insisted.  “And it wouldn’t be very smart to go after my predecessor’s daughter.  Even I have enough sense not to do that.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“I’ve only met her once and that was at her father’s funeral.”

The daiyoukai nodded and put his notepad away.

“You’re done?”

“For now.”

Miroku sighed, relieved.

Sesshoumaru walked toward the door and opened it, but before he stepped out, he looked over his shoulder.  “Keep your nose clean, or I’ll be back.”

He swallowed hard.  The demon’s steely glare seemed more like a threat than a promise.

Then he was gone, his shoes clapping down the hallway.

The long, bright corridors drifted by unseen as Sesshoumaru waded through his newly acquired clues, sorting out what he needed to do next.  It all boiled down to the father and the mysterious treasure he had found.  It was odd that someone who had come into possession of such a sought after artifact would die from an accident shortly afterward.  He needed to see the coroner’s report which meant going to the police headquarters. 

Uneasiness turned in the pit of his stomach and he pulled out another cigarette.  It couldn’t be helped though.  He had to go there.  Someone had to find the girl.  It just always seemed to be him.

The daiyoukai pushed open the heavy door leading out into the quad.  The midmorning heat struck him like a sweltering wave, and he grimaced.  It wasn’t even noon yet.  He felt for his vest pocket and pulled out his lighter and put it up to his cigarette.  Through the flickering flame, he saw a girl at the bottom of the steps.  His client. 

In her pretty, white suit, she seemed perfectly ignorant of the boiling summer flooding around her.  Even as he stood there, sweat started to bead under the brim of his hat. 

With the flick of his wrist, the lighter snapped shut and he placed it back in his pocket.  Smoothly, he walked down the steps, puffing on his cigarette and coolly eyeing the young woman.

“How is the young professor?” she asked.

“Friendly.”

A smirk flashed across her lips.  “He always was.”

“You knew him?”

“In passing.”

“Then you probably knew the old professor very well.”

“Yes, I did,” she replied wistfully.

The daiyoukai’s eyes narrowed.  “In that case, you must be familiar with what he found.”

She sighed.  “It’s just a box.”

“It’s more than that,” he said with a slight sneer.  “So, which are you looking for, doll?  Her, or the treasure?”

She didn’t reply.

Sesshoumaru nodded, disgust spoiling his handsome face.  She was no better than the rest of this apathetic city.  Tipping his hat as he passed, he left her behind and headed for the train station.  He could care less about the treasure.  Whether anyone cared or not, he was going to find Kagome Higurashi.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sesshoumaru stood in front of the imposing steps leading into Tokyo’s police headquarters.  It was a concrete behemoth that reached into the faded sky, as if it were a giant pillar meant to hold it up.  Behind him, cars lurched in traffic, their horns blaring with impatience.  The city seemed angry today.  The tension was palpable and the heat wave only cranked it tighter.  It seemed like at any moment, something was going to break.

The cigarette in the daiyoukai’s mouth was little more than the filter and a clump of ashes that clung desperately to the tip.  He hadn’t smoked any of it.  Instead, he stared at the steps before him, transfixed by them.  He remembered swaggering up and down them years ago.  Back when he was the Sphinx and he felt untouchable.  There wasn’t a case he couldn’t solve or a criminal he couldn’t catch.  He was invincible.

Then a little girl named Rin disappeared, and the pedestal he ruled from came crumbling down.  She was eight years old when she vanished, but since she was just an orphan, no one cared much, and the report was passed around until it landed on his desk.  When he saw it there, he hadn’t cared either.  Bigger crimes were more to his taste, but once he opened up the file and saw her crinkled photo, something in him paused.  Past her gap-toothed smile and messy hair, he saw pain and loneliness in her eyes.  She needed someone to save her, and he decided that perhaps this once, he was going to be the one.

Sesshoumaru scoffed.  What a pompous fool he was back then.

He dropped his cigarette and ground it flat even though it had burnt out a long time ago.  Then after a weary sigh, he went up the steps and opened one of the heavy, double doors.

Inside the lobby was a chaotic hive.  Officers of nearly every rank rushed to and fro, carrying reports or escorting perpetrators as they hurriedly tried to get their work done before the next shift.  Telephones rang, typewriters clacked, and people shouted, drowning out a man’s thoughts with ceaseless noise.  It was pandemonium.  And how he missed it.

An officer from behind the desk called out to him.  “Sir, can I help you?”

“Lieutenant Jaken, please.”

“One moment,” he replied, picking up the phone receiver and putting it to his ear.  “Name?”

“Tell him it’s an old friend who owes him a lighter.”

Furrowing an eyebrow, the officer looked at him oddly, but didn’t object.  As he dialed in the extension, Sesshoumaru scanned the room.  Rookies like him didn’t know who he was, but amid the rows of desks stretching back toward the far wall, he spotted the familiar faces.  Some stood up, their mouths open.  Others grasped their ignorant comrades by the shoulder and whispered past their ear.

“He’ll see you.  I’ll get someone to escort you…”

“No, thank you,” the daiyoukai said, “I’ll find my own way.  He’s still on the second floor, correct?”

“No, sir,” he said, shaking his head.  “The lieutenant’s office is in the basement.”

Sesshoumaru snorted.  “Of course.”  He tipped his hat and headed toward the stairwell at the rear of the lobby. 

The officer tried to object, but his supervisor waved him back.  The rookie looked to him, wanting an explanation, but he gave him none.  His attention, like that of the veterans around him, was on the daiyoukai.

With his head high and his jaw fixed, Sesshoumaru walked past the desks.  Glares and derisive sneers followed him, but the cool confidence he exuded with every stride kept them just that.  They were cowards and lowlifes hiding behind gleaming badges.  A part of him wanted them to confront him, so that he could strip them down and expose them for what they really were; criminals no different than the ones they dragged into the station.  But they kept their mouths shut, and he kept walking.

The daiyoukai reached the stairwell and he went down.  The basement was decidedly quieter, but without any air circulation, it felt like an oven as he made his way down the gray hallway.  He passed by several doors until he found one cracked open just a bit.  He glanced at the name on the fogged, glass panel at the center of it and smirked.

But before he could push it open the rest of the way, a gravelly voice squawked from inside.  “It’s sad.  I still know the sound of your footsteps a mile away.”

Sesshoumaru chuckled and opened the door.  “It’s been a while… partner.”

Sitting amid mountains of paperwork in an office that was nothing more than a closet was a squat, green youkai in brown slacks and suspenders.  He started to laugh.  “Ex-partner.”

The daiyoukai scoffed.

“I haven’t seen you in ten years,” Jaken argued, “I think we’re divorced.”

“And in the meantime, I see that they moved you.”

“I got tired of the natural light and air conditioning.  We toads like dank, cramped holes in the ground, you know?”

Sesshoumaru stared at him.

“Look, I’m getting too old for this crap,” he squawked.  “I’m not you.  We might have been partners, but you were the leader.  I just did my best to keep up.”

“But you shouldn’t put up with this.  Whether you were associated with me or not, your record is impeccable.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“I’m just trying to get my pension,” Jaken said, shaking his head.  “Not everyone can sacrifice everything for idealism.  I’ve got a family, you know this.  And it’s not like your principles have been treating you well.  You look like misery warmed over.”

“I’m getting by.”

“You smell like stale alcohol and cigarettes.”

“Are you finished insulting me?”

Jaken scoffed.  “No, I haven’t even started.  I’ve got years of scolding for you.”  Then he leaned back in his chair and sighed.  “But, there isn’t much of a point, is there?  I didn’t lose it all.  You did.  And for what?  A little, nobody girl.”

“She deserved justice.”

“You just had to be patient.  The Wolf Prince of Tokyo was an arrogant ass.  We would have gotten him eventually.”

“Eventually, but he wouldn’t have gone down for her.”  The daiyoukai’s eyes narrowed.  “And how many more little, nobody girls would you have let die in the meantime?”

“Hey!  Don’t lump me in with the rest of those bastards upstairs!” Jaken blurted out, his voice cracking.  Then he quieted down, suddenly melancholic.  “But there must have been another way.  Some way that we didn’t think of…”

“What other way could there have been?  He committed suicide.”

“Nobody believed that.”

“Doesn’t matter.  The evidence proved it, and suspicions aren’t facts.”

“And that didn’t matter either.  They still stripped you of your rank and forced you to resign.  They still shoved me in this hole to file papers.  Prisons aren’t always made of bars.”

Sesshoumaru didn’t argue.  What Jaken said was a truth he knew all too well.

“So what do you want?  Why come here now after all of this time?  What are you looking for?”

“Redemption.”

“Redemption?”

“There’s another girl that’s missing.  I have to find her.”

Jaken let out a ragged sigh.

“She’s alone and there’s no one else.”

“I really am too old for this crap.”

“I know.” 

Jaken snorted.  “But for old time’s sake… why not?  What do you need?”

The daiyoukai smirked.

“But remember, my influence isn’t as great as it used to be, so don’t get any grand ideas.”

“I just need to see a medical report from five years ago on an accidental death.”

“Ah!” Jaken squawked.  “Thank the gods.  That’s easy.”

“What did you think I’d ask for?”

“With you, it could be anything.”  The small demon hopped off his chair and motioned for him to follow as he left the office.  They walked down the hallway until they reached a door titled ‘Records’ and went in.  The room was filled with rows of file cabinets.  Jaken picked an aisle and stopped about halfway down it.  For his age, he was still rather spry, and he climbed up a ladder beside a cabinet.  He paused on one of the rungs and eyed Sesshoumaru.  “Name?”

The daiyoukai gave it.

“Well, you’re in luck then,” he said, huffing as he pulled out one of the file drawers.  “I’ve been reorganizing the coroner’s reports for long term storage.  Proper filing is beyond that man.”  He looked over the tabs.  “Higurashi… Higurashi…  There it is.”  He pulled out the file and handed it to him.

Sesshoumaru opened it and scanned over the information jotted down inside.  The professor died from trauma sustained after he fell down the stairs at the family shrine.  How novel.  It was then that a notation caught his eye.  Two people witnessed the body.  Miroku, the professor’s protégé and Kagome Higurashi, his daughter, and both did so at the same time on the same date.  He snorted.

“What is it?  Did you find something?”

“Yes.  Someone lied to me.”

Jaken laughed.  “They better watch out then.”

The daiyoukai smiled.  “Thank you.”

He waved his hand dismissively at him.  “There’s no need for that.  I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

Sesshoumaru turned to head back out the door.

“Hey!  Where do you think you’re going?”

He looked back at Jaken, his eyebrow raised.

“You made a bet when you left that you’d never come back to this rotten cesspool filled with crooked cops and slanted justice.  Give it to me.”

The daiyoukai reached into his pocket and pulled out his gold-plated lighter.  “I’m a demon of my word.”  After regarding it for a moment, he handed it to the small demon.  “I don’t need it anymore anyway.”

“Good.”

“Goodbye, Jaken.”

“Goodbye… partner.”

The double doors swung open and Sesshoumaru stepped out of the station.  The scorching summer blasted him, but he could hardly feel it or the sopping humidity that now drowned the air.  On the horizon, he saw great, pillowy thunderheads starting to rise as the wind picked up.  Something was indeed beginning to break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His footsteps sure and deliberate, Sesshoumaru strode down the university hallway.  He passed the display cases and loitering students, hardly noticing them as his eyes followed the room numbers.  A smirk flashed across his face when he arrived at Room 157, and he went for the door handle without even considering knocking.

It was locked.

The daiyoukai scowled, and as he went to knock, he heard a heated argument rising from within the office.  Straining his ears, he tried to pick up what was said, but then there was a sudden commotion, a scream and broken glass.

Using his exceptional strength, Sesshoumaru threw his shoulder into the door, ripping it off its hinges.  It slammed onto the floor and he stumbled in.  There he found Miroku writhing across his desk, blood leaking through his vest and a knife piercing his hand.  Behind him was a broken window.

The daiyoukai rushed over.  “Miroku!”

A stream of expletives poured through the young man’s gritted teeth.  “How bad is it?  Am I going to die?!”

Sesshoumaru glanced over his wounds.  It seemed that his assailant had tried to stab him through the heart, but he had managed to block him using his right hand.  The cut in his chest hadn’t punctured further than his breastbone.  He was a lucky man.  “You’ll live.”

“Oh thank the gods,” he cried with relief.

Several students stood in the doorway, their eyes wide and mouths dropped.

“Go call for an ambulance!” the daiyoukai shouted at them.

Miroku groaned.  “My hand hurts.”

“Well, there is a hole in it now.”

“I have a hole in my hand?!” he blurted out and tried to raise it so he could look at it.

“Calm down and don’t move,” Sesshoumaru ordered.  “The police will be here any minute.  I need you to tell me what happened.”

“I can’t.  He’ll kill me for sure.” 

“He’s already tried.”

“All the more reason for me to get out of here.”  He tried to sit up and the daiyoukai pushed him back down.

“I can stop him.”

Miroku scoffed.

“Then I’ll buy you time.  If he’s busy dealing with me, then he won’t be looking for you.”

Grimacing, the young man eyed him.  He didn’t have much choice.  “All right.”

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know.  He never told me his name.  He approached me right after the professor returned from his last visit to Bulgaria.  Promised me that if I helped him get the box, that he’d make sure that I got work here as a professor.”  He grabbed Sesshoumaru’s hand.  “I wanted respect.  There’s no such thing as infinite power and if there was, it couldn’t fit in a box.  I thought I was getting a deal.  I didn’t know that he’d kill Higurashi-sensei.  I never wanted that.  I never wanted his position.  I just wanted my own.”

“What about Kagome?  You lied to me.  You saw her when you both identified her father’s body.”

“She was angry with me.  Like I had something to do with it.  I didn’t kill her father.”

“But?”

Shame overwhelmed him, and he averted his eyes. 

“Tell me.”

“But I am the one who told the authorities that it was an accident.  I saw him push him down the steps.  But don’t you see?  I couldn’t tell them the truth, or else I would have been next.”

“You were next.”

“No, she was.”

The daiyoukai’s eyes narrowed.  “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do not lie.”

“I’m telling the truth,’ he yelled.  “I stayed away.  None of it was worth it, but she couldn’t let it go.  I told her to leave.  To take her grandfather and escape to Bulgaria, and to never come back.  That damn stubborn woman.  She never could listen.”

“What does this man look like?”

“He’s pale with black, stringy hair.  He reminds me of a… spider.  And those empty, red eyes, I’ll never forget them.”

Shouting filled the hallway, and a flood of policemen and medical personnel swarmed the room.  Sesshoumaru backed away and slipped out the door before he could be questioned.  He didn’t have time to talk to the police, or worse yet, be detained by them.

In a few moments, he vanished into the growing crowd choking the hallway.  There was after all, only one place left to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scent of rain was heavy in the air.  The trees surrounding the derelict shrine swayed, their leaves rustling with the wind.  And even as the storm approached, the sweltering heat bore on, feeling worse as the humidity rose.

Lightly stepping, Sesshoumaru scaled the staircase leading to the courtyard.  This was where it all happened.  The professor’s home and the place of his death.  If Kutiya was anywhere, it would be here, and therefore if his killer was anywhere, he would be here too. 

The daiyoukai reached the top and quickly made for the closest building and pressed his back up against it.  As he glanced around, he retrieved the weighty pistol strapped to his hip.  How things change when you’re not a part of the force anymore.  There’s no back up.  No one to call.  It’s you against fate, and your only weapons were your wits and the cold steel in your hand.

Sesshoumaru snuck around the corner, his gun’s tip up slightly and his ears sharp.  Kagome’s grandfather was around here too, and he didn’t need to shoot the wrong man.

There was the sound of a door handle jiggling, and he spun around, his gun leveled.  Then the door opened and the old, hobbled man came out.  He screeched in surprise, and a pang of shame struck the daiyoukai. 

“What are you doing?!” the man shouted.

“Higurashi-san,” Sesshoumaru called out.  “You’re in danger.  I need you to leave right now.  The man who killed your son and took your granddaughter is around here somewhere.  I don’t want you to be hurt.”

The old man nodded, and he hurried away from the door and toward the shrine staircase.  As he passed though, the daiyoukai caught an odd scent coming from him.  He was surely human, but there was something else.  The feral tang of a demon.  A spider demon.  He was a hanyou.

“Wait,” he shouted.

The first sprinkles of rain dotted the leaf-spattered yard.

“What’s wrong, detective?” the old man asked.  There was a red glint in his weepy eyes.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Kagome’s grandfather.  I cried for her, don’t you remember?”

Sesshoumaru pointed his gun at him.  “No, you’re not.  Who are you?”

He started to chuckle, and he straightened up.  Bumps and bones shifted under his clothes as he grew.  His skin tightened and his wrinkles vanished.  The band keeping his tightly bound white hair in place snapped, and his hair grew long and black.  “I can see that my ruse is over.  You asked my name and it is Naraku.”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Kagome.  Where is she?”

“All the power in the world is almost within your reach and you ask about a little girl?”

He waited.

“How disappointing, but if you must know, she’s dead.  There’s nothing you can do for her.”

The daiyoukai pulled the hammer back on his revolver.  Thunder cracked overhead as the clouds darkened the sky.

“There is something that you can do for yourself.  We can share the power.  As two demons, think of all that we could do.  The perfect alliance.  This city… this country would be ours for the taking.”

Sesshoumaru smiled, laughed almost.

Naraku watched him, a wicked grin growing on his lips.  Underneath the hem of his coat, a poison-tipped claw lowered.  He had him.

Then lightning flashed, matching the spark from the muzzle of his gun.

The spider hanyou stumbled back.  He felt numb and he watched as blood spilt from his chest.  Booming thunder rent the black sky and a torrent of rain started to pour.  There was another bang, and another bullet struck him.  Naraku collapsed onto his knees, shocked.

“Another man, a wolf prince, once told me something very similar to what you said,” Sesshoumaru said thoughtfully, “But power in the hands of evil, is power that’s not meant to be at all.”

“You’re a fool,” Naraku gurgled, blood sputtering from his lips.  He felt his life draining away, mixing with the puddles of water pooling at his legs.  “Power belongs to the strongest.  It doesn’t care about ideals, or good and evil.  Justice is of no consequence to it.”

“Perhaps, but it doesn’t kill girls or their families.  People do.  Demons do.”

The spider hanyou collapsed, his end had come, and the daiyoukai left him where he lay.  Water dripped off the brim of his hat, and he took it off and looked up to let the cleansing rain wash over his face.

“Goshinboku,” he whispered, remembering what the disguised hanyou had said when he first met him.  Kagome had been praying under Goshinboku.  He turned, spotting the tall, sacred tree beside a small well-house.  “Goshinboku.”

Sesshoumaru walked over to it and sniffed.  There was something old here.  Something wrong.  It drenched this place more than the rain.  It was the decay he had sensed the first time he came here.  He had mistaken it for the shrine’s neglect.  But it was here.

He knelt down in the mud and started to dig.  It smeared his clothes and filled his shoes, but he didn’t care.  He had to save her.

His claws scraped against something hard, and he swept the mud away, revealing it.  It was a bone.  He kept going, clearing more mud away as he slowly exposed a skeleton.  There were bits of fabric and when he cleaned them, he could tell they were once white and part of a coat and skirt.  Beneath them, there were thinner strips from a silk blouse blackened with old blood.

Then that peculiar sense of his that let him know when someone was behind him triggered.  He twisted around and fumbled for his gun, but he relaxed when he saw her.  Surrounded by the pelting rain and muddy ground, his client stood dry and prim.  And as always, there was something iridescent about her.  Even without a ray of bright sunlight, she seemed to glow.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I wanted to save you.”

“You have.”

“No, I only found you.  Anyone could have done that.”

She shook her head.  “But not anyone could have found who killed me.  When I died, it was dark.  I didn’t know who did it.”  Her voice grew quiet.  “And I didn’t know my grandfather had died a long time ago.  I needed the Sphinx.  I needed you.”

Sesshoumaru snorted.

“I have something for you.  My payment, if you will.”

“I don’t require any payments from a spirit.”

“Feel inside the knot in the tree and you will have your reward.”

He started to object.

She started to fade. 

He watched her go, at a loss for words, and as she turned into nothing, he noticed a smaller silhouette standing behind her, a little girl with messy hair and a gap-toothed smile.

Then they were gone, and the daiyoukai was alone again.  He started to feel wet and cold, a sensation he could scarcely remember.  The heat wave was gone.  He gathered himself up, soaking in everything that had happened over the last few days.  And for the first time in a very long time, he felt light.

His gaze drifted toward the tree and the knot in its trunk.  His reward.  He walked over to it and reached in, curious above all else.  He had meant it when he said that he hadn’t wanted anything.  Is that why she had insisted?  There was something hard and cube-shaped in there, and his heart stopped.  After all this time, had it been there all along?

Sesshoumaru pulled his hand out and in it, he held a small box.

“Kutiya,” he whispered.

Made of smooth, tarnished silver, it wasn’t much to look at, and it wasn’t heavy either.  It could hardly be something that held unimaginable power. 

He undid the clasp to lift the lid. 

And yet, he wondered.

A/N:  And done.  A very basic (maybe a little too loosely done) noir mystery with a supernatural twist as requested.  It’s my first one, so I hope it’s half-decent.  And I hope you guys don’t mind Miroku being a butt, because… someone had to be.

This is my third entry for the Second Annual Fanfiction Tournament.  I’m facing off against the lovely, Skyisthelimit, so please read her entry as well.  I know she struggled as much as I did with it.  And when you’ve decided which one you liked the best, please send your vote to TangerineDream.  And thank you for reading this.