Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives! Conclusion? Update

[Helbereth]

Pardon? Oh, Akira has something she’d like to say, but it can wait until Tuesday.

KEK
(WoW nerds know what I mean.)

[Hoitash]

KEK
(WoW nerds know what I mean.)

Apparently it actually started with Starcraft, but since both are owned by Blizzard, it doesn't really matter.

[Hoitash]

Guys, you might wanna read this…

(The following is a transcript of a voicemail message made from the cell phone of Akira Hashimoto nee Satou to Kenji Setou.)

Jesus, it’s really pouring out there. Kenji, Hisao told me to call you and say you were right: there is some seriously bad shit going on up north. Crap, I just wanted a nice summer vacation in Hokkaido, and now I’m barricaded in a house holding a revolver while Hisao is-

(Sounds of gunfire and someone shouting.)

Dammit, I’m coming! I gotta go, but if I survive this I’ll tell you all about it in:

Hisao and Akira(?!)- Terror in the Night!

A Master Detectives Halloween Special!

(Please note that said special will be posted in its own thread, and that said thread will be linked to in my Table of Contents, and my signature as well.)

(Also please note that as the Special fortuitously falls in chronological order between Mystery Six and Seven, the main MD series will not be updated while the Special is ongoing.)

[griffon8]

the main MD series

Ha! When I first read that I couldn't help but think of the stories I'm editing. They're referred to all the time collectively as 'MD'. Never noticed that the abbreviation would be the same, probably because 'MD' has to be preceded by 'H&K:' in my mind for your story.

[Hoitash]

H&KMD does have a nice ring to it

[Silentcook]

H&KMD does have a nice ring to it

You're lucky you only came CLOSE, not on the dot. Why yes, I'm a bastard. How did you notice?

[Hoitash]

I was reminded of the Star Wars droid HK-47, myself.

And bastard or not, we love you regardless (I think you need to be a little troll at heart to truly appreciate the roots of KS, but that's just me.)

[Oddball]

H&KMD does have a nice ring to it

"MD" Makes me think "Medical Doctor".

Kenji and Hisao being doctors would make for an entirely different type of story.

[Hoitash]

H&KMD does have a nice ring to it

"MD" Makes me think "Medical Doctor".

Kenji and Hisao being doctors would make for an entirely different type of story.

They do have doctorates, though. In Painology and Awesomographyy!

Seriously though, I could see Hisao having a PhD in Secondary Education, and Kenji one in Criminology. Although that would mean they were in school until about three months before the series started, so never mind

[Hoitash]

I regret nothing.

Happy Birthday, Misha! Remember, remember the First of November.

Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives!

A Masterful One-Shot: Sparring and Scarring

“Si vis pacem, para bellum” –Roman Adage


Before Kenji decided to go full Rambo on the Secret Societies, we decided I needed to learn how to better defend myself when it came to bullets and pointy things attempting to perforate my carcass. Shortly after our first raid against the Illuminati, I had my chance, though I ended up doing a lot more than just learning to fight…

[This is a bad idea] I palmed out.

Kenji and I were both fluent in deaf/blind sign language, so I had never bothered to learn proper JSL- two nonverbal communication methods was enough. This meant I had to be in close contact to converse with Shizune, but she didn’t mind; she was just happy we could communicate directly. Ever since she and her cousin Lilly had gotten over their high school squabbles, the two had been rather close. Since Lilly was my wife’s best friend, we spent a lot of time at each other’s houses. Shizune, in turn, was an occasional guest at our respective homes as well, though she was a little self conscious about her own home, which we tended to visit rarely. It was a big place, but she refused to call it a mansion, though it had more rooms then an art museum.

Shizune, roughly half a meter in front of me, wearing black shorts and a matching tank top, her black hair done up in a ponytail behind her, frowned over her black half-frame glasses. Her bright blue eyes glared at me as she used one hand to palm back, [it was your idea, Hisao.]

I sighed, glancing at our left hands. Shizune was holding a katana –a modern one, not her family’s weapon- while I was holding an English broadsword; about as unfair a match up as you could get without the deaf woman having a gun.

[Actually, it was Kenji’s; I agreed to this because after last week, I figure I should pay a bit more attention to his insane ramblings.]

[Then quit whining and fight!] Shizune palmed, smacking my hand lightly for emphasis.

“Easy,” I grumbled, even though she couldn’t hear me.

Wearing an old pair of khaki pants and a tan polo shirt, my clothing actually matched the training room in Shizune’s basement. A large brown mat was in the center of the room, and the walls were painted a light brown. A counter along the wall behind me, to the right of the stairway that led upstairs, had a stack of towels and some bottled waters waiting. To the right of that, various exercise equipment was stacked in careful order along the wall.

Business mogul or not, Shizune was not one to be caught idle, unless she had scheduled for it. Sighing again, I took a step back, grabbed my sword with both hands, bowed, and waited. Shizune returned the bow, grabbed her katana with both hands, grinned her competitive, cat-like grin, and advanced.

A katana is a very tricky weapon. It requires the user to put their entire body into their strikes. It’s an offensive weapon, and using it defensively is difficult to do, because you’re still putting all your energy into your movements. If you defend too much, you’ll just wear yourself out. Unfortunately for me, Shizune’s idea of defense was a more ferocious offense, so it wasn’t long before I was knocked on my ass and had a sword at my throat. Again.

I used a military hand signal to sign [yield.] Shizune smirked and moved the katana, grabbing my left arm to heft me up.

[You okay?] she palmed out quickly, her face scrunched in concern. My heart condition was more or less under control, but medical advances or not, I wasn’t going to take things lightly; not after Kyoto, anyway.

I nodded and she slapped me upside my head.

Grimacing and rubbing my head lightly, I lowered my hand to ask, [What the hell?!]

[You don’t have a katana!] she responded, glaring at me like a samurai sensei to his most imbecilic pupil -the one who was accepted because he was the daimyo’s son, [stop fighting like you have one!] she continued, the friction stinging my hand slightly, [you have a hacking weapon, a weapon of brute force! You need to get passed my strikes and hit me- hard! Or put me on the defensive and wear me down!]

I rolled my eyes and sighed, [How the hell do I do that?]

Shizune grinned, the competitive glint in her eyes returned, [all’s fair in love and war.]

Tell that to the Geneva Conventions. I nodded slowly, though I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant. After I made sure my heart was fine, we resumed our fight. This time, Shizune was moving much more slowly, making her strikes obvious so I could dodge or parry them. When she made to slice at my arm, I was able to parry with my sword, knocking her katana back so it was diagonally perpendicular with the floor. Seeing her bare elbow in my face gave me an idea. Interpreting what she had said into a rather violent response, I elbowed her hard in the face with my left arm. Her head twisted to the left and her glasses flew off her face, landing somewhere behind her with a muted patter.

I stepped back and nervously appraised her; I wasn’t quite sure how’d she react to my new tactic. When her head was looking forward again, her nose was bleeding, and, being farsighted, she was squinting slightly to see me.

She was grinning, though. Smiling, even. I recognized the look in her eyes, too; I had bestowed it on my students many times.

She was proud of me.

I didn’t have a chance to appreciate that, though, because she was advancing again, and this time she wasn’t pulling any punches. Literally- her first move was to try and elbow me in the left shoulder. I dodged and swung my broadsword at her, which she quickly parried with her own weapon. She followed that up with a kick to my left hip, which sent me stumbling back. She lunged forward to bring the katana to my head, but I parried and forced the weapon down onto the ground. Holding it down, I quickly brought the sword to her hilt, gently tapping her left hand.

[Left hand out,] I signed, using more hand signals as I worked to catch a few breaths.

Shizune glowered and lowered her left hand; instructor or not, she was still as competitive as ever, and still as fair-minded as ever. I stepped back and waited again for another strike. Using her right hand, she swiped at my left leg, but at the last second adjusted to stab my torso. I jumped back and lunged forward, batting her sword out of the way and kneeing her in the stomach. She audibly grunted as I winded her. Knowing she wouldn’t give up, I grunted and slammed the side of the sword onto her left thigh, before using my left foot to trip her up and send her down.

[Left leg hit] I signaled quickly, before placing the tip of my sword to her neck.

Shizune grinned fiercely as she signaled back, [I yield.]

I dropped the sword and helped her up. Looking her over while I checked my heart again, I palmed out, [are you okay?]

Her nose was still bleeding, but Shizune simply shrugged, [I’ll live] her grin had a slightly sheepish quality to it as she added, [though my pride is a bit wounded.]

I returned the shrug, [you said to fight dirty, so I did.]

[I said “all’s fair in love and war.”,] she clarified, though the grin only got wider as she continued, [you assumed the rest.]

I assumed correctly apparently. Before I could say anything else, she asked me where her glasses were. After looking around a bit for them, which we found intact and unscratched, we moved over to the counter to sheath our swords, towel off, and grab some water. We didn’t bother speaking until we were done recovering from our match, which took a few minutes for both of us.

[I still beat you overall,] Shizune palmed with a grin, [three duels to one.]

[The first three don’t count] I declared [you had me decapitated in less than three seconds each time.]

Shizune grinned her competitive, cat-like grin again as she used her free hand to staunch her bleeding nose with a tissue, [you told me not to hold back.]

I said. I paused a minute before asking [are you sure you’re okay with my victory method?]

Shizune rolled her eyes and smiled at me, her expression turned from competitive to patronizing in a matter of moments [the Societies won’t play fair, Hisao. You shouldn’t, either.]

[I won’t stoop to their level] I insisted, frowning as I concluded [then I’m no better than them.]

Shizune considered this for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“You two done already?” I heard a bubbly voice ask from the stairs. Turning around, I saw Shiina “Misha” Mikado standing at the foot of the steps, holding a small tray with two tea cups and a platter of cookies.

“Yeah,” I replied, then quickly palmed to Shizune, [she asked if we’re done, and I told her yes.]

Shizune nodded and moved closer to her partner so she could sign. As I said, I don’t know sign language, but whatever the two said seemed to upset Misha, and the conversation was a short one. Misha sighed and placed the tray on the counter before slowly ascending the steps, her bubblegum pink hair slowly vanishing upward. It sounded like she paused partway up the stairs; probably to hide her dour mood from the two’s other guest.

I raised an eyebrow as Shizune turned to face me, her face downcast. I stepped forward and grabbed her hand, [what was that about?]

[Not your concern] she responded, her expression set in a “don’t ask” glare.

I nodded, but that didn’t mean I had given up. If my friends need my help, I’m there for them- sometimes whether they want it or not. Besides, all’s fair in love and war.

Suppressing a grin at my perverse tactics, I asked [How are you and Misha doing?]

Shizune glowered at me and ignored me for a moment. However, after a resigned shrug to acknowledge my deft counter-maneuver, she exhaled slowly and palmed back, [complicated.]

I nodded in sympathy; my own relationship had had a few rough patches, mostly because I tended to be overprotective of Hanako. Which, in hindsight, was probably why I was so willing to help Kenji kick the Societies in the balls.

[How so?] I asked.

Shizune didn’t answer right away, her expression contemplative. She still didn’t have to answer me, and she already stated she didn’t really want to. However, eventually she carefully and gently placed her hand on my open palm, [I don’t know if I can give her what she wants from me.]

I raised an eyebrow, surprised at her candor. Perhaps she did want to talk about, but, being the stubborn person she was, didn’t want to admit it, especially to someone she could slice and dice before the pieces hit the floor.

[She’s stuck with you for over ten years,] I palmed out slowly, [I think she deserves the truth.]

[I know that!] Shizune snapped, her blood-stained nostril flaring [I gave her the truth ten years ago! Now, though…] Shizune trailed off, sniffing some blood from her nasal cavity as she lowered her tissue [now, though…]

I waited a second to let her collect herself before prompting [What?]

[I don’t know any more] Shizune declared, smacking my hand away and moving to head upstairs.

I grabbed her left hand and quickly palmed, [stop.]

She did, one foot already on the stairs. Seizing the initiative, I added [wait. Don’t rush into anything.]

Shizune didn’t bother turning around as she responded [I wanted to talk to Hanako. Maybe she would know what to do.]

I smirked [maybe, but Misha is probably talking her to death right now. Afraid you’re stuck with me.]

Shizune exhaled heavily in a muted sigh and stepped back from the stairs, sitting on the bottom step like a dejected high school student. Frowning down at the ground, and considering the source of her despair, she may as well have been.

I sat down next to her, the two of us barely fitting on the narrow step. Holding out my right palm, I looked at her and smiled, but didn’t move my hand over to hers. When she wanted to talk, she would.

Whether or not I could help was another story.

==

I’m not sure why Hisao wanted me to write about this, but now that things are sorted out, I don’t see the harm in doing so…

I’ll confess, I was a little worried about Shizune and Hisao being alone in the basement. After ten years and two kids, I knew nothing would happen. Still, Shizune was an attractive woman, and an assertive one; if she wanted something, she took it, even if she had to tie it down and…

Shaking the thought from my head, sending my long purple hair flying around me in the process, I sipped from my teacup and looked at my hostess. Misha was sitting across from me, in a puffy blue chair similar to the one I was occupying. We were in Shizune’s expansive living room. A western style fireplace made of brick occupied the wall to my right, while an ancient mahogany coffee table stood in the center of the room, surrounded by chairs and a large, blue sofa that faced the fireplace. The walls were painted a light blue, with paintings of vibrant colors and weird shapes hanging on the walls; Shizune was quite the philanthropist, and one of her favorite artists was Rin Tezuka- sorry, Nomura.

“Thanks again for staying,” Misha bubbled at me after sipping her tea, her long, bright pink hair and duller salmon skirt and blouse clashing wonderfully with the room’s décor.

I smiled and brushed the hair from the right side of the face, ignoring the brief touch of skin against burns as I did so. I wasn’t afraid to hide my scars anymore, “it’s fine Misha. The kids are at Lilly’s playing with the twins, so I really didn’t have anything else to do.”

Misha nodded and grabbed a biscotti from a small tray on the table. Normally bright and cheerful, her normal peppy chatter had been somewhat subdued ever since she had come back from dropping off the tea and snacks downstairs a few minutes ago. Normally I don’t like to pry, but, I was a mother, and emotional pain was something I was very familiar with.

“Is…everything alright between you and Shizune?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calming.

Misha smiled and laughed, “WAHAHAHA~! Of course it is, Hanachan! Why wouldn’t it be~?”

Slightly dazed from her booming laugh, it took me a second to form a response, “you just seem a bit quiet is all, and you two didn’t seem to be saying much to each other when Hisao and I arrived.”

Misha waved away my observations and laughed again, “WAHAHA~! We’re fine, don’t worry about it!”

The strain in her smile was obvious, and her voice had a mild edge to it; despair I detected easily, but it also seemed a bit… weary, like she was suddenly tired.

Mustering some courage to face the issue head on, I countered, “People only say that when there is something to worry about.”

“Don’t generalize unless you’re a Sith Lord,” Misha stated, eyeing me narrowly, “you’re not, are you?”

My Playstation username was HanaVentress, but that was beside the point, “fair enough. If everything’s alright, then I’m glad for both of you.”

Reverse psychology was an old trick, but it worked. We sipped our tear silently for a few minutes, me watching her face slowly contort from her usual demeanor to something much more maudlin. Eventually her façade cracked. Frowning, Misha sighed, set down her teacup, and looked up at me, her bright amber eyes watery.

“Ten years,” she declared, in barely more than a whisper, “it’s been ten years~ since high school, and she still won’t tell me how she feels about me now that things have changed~.”

Once, in college, after a few too many drinks at a party, Misha had confided in me that she had confessed her love to Shizune in high school. Shizune had rejected her, but wanted to keep her as a friend. The request nearly destroyed Misha, but, she stayed. Through University and business, she stayed, ever loyal and ever wanting more than friendship. Shizune had met her halfway, but their relationship was complicated, and unfortunately for both of them, Shizune was too aggressive and forceful to deal with something so nuanced. She tried, of course, but it usually only made things worse.

“What happened?” I asked.

The two had had these spats in the past –though this one seemed more based on pent up pain then anything recent- and something usually set them off; Hisao would call it a catalyst. I’d call it Shizune’s father.

Misha rolled her eyes, “Shicchan’s dad, what else?”

I nodded, “I’m sorry. He does care about her, you know.”

“So do I!” Misha snapped, startling me. Misha grimaced and quickly added, “sorry, Hanachan, it’s not your fault,” she paused to glare off into space for a moment, “I should be yelling at her idiot father, not you~.”

“Have you tried talking to her?” I asked.

Misha nodded, “when I went down a few minutes ago to drop off the tea. I told her we needed to talk, and she said there was nothing to talk about, because nothing had changed~.”

Misha sniffed and looked at the floor. This kind of problem was a bit more complex then what I felt comfortable dealing with. I did know someone whose temperament and past lent itself to such issues, though. What would Lilly have done? Assured Misha that Shizune cared, that her father’s heart was in the right place, and that when Shizune wanted to talk, she would?

Mentally shrugging, I decided some of that would work. I stood up and sat slowly next to Misha, wrapping an arm around her in a half-hug as I squeezed myself into the chair. Misha rounded on me to hug me back, her body shuddering in anguish.

“I’m so tired~!” she cried against my shoulder, sniffling and weeping as she gave in to her sorrow, “I’m so tired of this No Man’s Land. Are we a couple or not? Does she love me or not? Am I an idiot or not for staying~?”

“You are not an idiot,” I stated, gentling rubbing her back as I let the firmness of my tone sink in, “what’s happened can’t be undone, so there’s no use questioning it. What you have to do now is focus on the future and the present.”

“She won’t listen~!” Misha cried, her voice quiet and barely discernible through her weeping.

That was a recurring problem with Shizune; her ability to dismiss the emotions of those around her. She was a good person, but the way she thought about things was more calculated and logical than the average individual. Emotion had its place for her, but she didn’t let it get in the way as much as other people would. Excellent for business, but terrible for a social life. Worse, there weren’t many ways to combat it, except perhaps to fight fire with fire. Considering how long this issue had festered and simmered, it might’ve been the only option.

“Make her,” I replied, thinking quickly, “challenge her dominance. All this time it’s been you following her. You followed her to college. You followed her to that consortium. You followed her here-”

“She let me!” Misha snapped, “she never said no to any of it! She let me follow her like a lapdog, smiling and thanking me every damn step of the way!”

I rubbed her back a little firmer before answering, “sounds like she’s just as confused as you, then.”

“I know~” Misha whimpered.

Her mind was slipping into an emotional oblivion, the kind that made rational thought nigh impossible. I knew that place, and I knew it was a very bad idea for Misha to go there now; If I was talking to Misha about this, it was likely Hisao was talking to Shizune about it, too.

“Have you considered a couple’s counselor?” I asked, “Hisao and I saw one during college, and it helped a lot.”

“I… didn’t know that,” Misha said, her voice returning somewhat closer to normal, though she was still crying a bit, her tears damping my denim jacket.

I smiled and sighed, “he had been out on a morning run and had a heart flutter. He had tried to push himself a bit too hard, and when I found out, I snapped at him. I asked him how he could risk killing himself, and he said he was doing it for me, and I said I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else dying for me. Things got a bit heated, and I ended up crying in the bathroom for a few hours. Hisao knew enough to leave me alone, but, after a few days, I knew we needed to work it out. I also knew a neutral third party would keep us from hurting each other anymore.”

Misha didn’t say anything for a bit, sniffling and trying to sort out her thoughts. Eventually, she slowly asked, “Someone…died for you?”

I should’ve known that part would hang in her mind. Familiarity or not, the scars on my face are very obvious when I keep my hair back. Her mind might also have been subconsciously trying to redirect the conversation, to prevent an emotional overload of sorts.

I owed her an answer, and after all these years, it wasn’t too hard to talk about the fire; not that I liked to, but she needed my support. Talking about my own scarring would help with that.

“My mother,” I answered, repressing a tear of my own as I fought my damndest to stop old, terrible memories from flooding my mind, “she died protecting me from the fire that burned me and killed my parents. The only reason I’m alive is because of her.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I shouldn’t have brought it up~.”

“It’s okay,” I cooed, “really, it is. Your scarring is the issue here, not mine.”

“Scarring~?” Misha asked, shuddering a little as some of the physical tension started to leave her body from my efforts on her back. She had stopped crying, as well.

I nodded, nuzzling my chin against her shoulder, “that’s right. Not all scars are physical, but they can be healed, it just takes time. I’m living proof of that.”

Misha sighed, apparently out of tears for now as she seized an earlier part of our conversation to cling to, “Shizune won’t like the idea of a counselor. She’ll consider it a sign of weakness to not be able to solve a problem yourself.”

“I don’t know about that.”

I looked up to my right toward the threshold that led to the main hall. Hisao was standing just inside the living room, a strained smile on his face. Shizune was behind him, looking less like a business mogul, and more like an anxious little girl.

“Misha?” Hisao asked.

Misha finally pulled away from me to look at Hisao. Noticing Shizune, she smiled weakly and signed, [hi, Shicchan.]

Shizune stepped forward a few paces to stand next to Hisao, [can we talk?]

Misha nodded, and I stood up off the chair, “Hisao, Misha made some coffee for you.”

Catching on, he nodded, “okay. Oh, and Shizune has a copy of one of your books she wants signed, it’s waiting for you in the kitchen, too.”

So they wanted to be alone for their discussion. That was fine; Hisao and I weren’t exactly neutral parties. I stood up and signed [good luck] to both women before heading out towards the kitchen through the hall, passed Hisao; Misha had taught me some basic sign language.

[Thank you] they both signed as I left the room, smiling weakly.

“Thanks, Hicchan!” Misha said to Hisao, her voice back to full volume, though still weary and a bit shaky from earlier.

Hisao bowed and replied, “you’re welcome,” before retreating towards the kitchen. Waiting a few paces ahead, I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss.

“Yes?” he asked when I had removed my lips from his.

“You just can’t help meddling, can you?” I whispered, smiling brightly.

Hisao returned the smile and shrugged, “you said not to be overprotective of you; you never said anything about our friends.”

I sighed and lowered my arms, “you think they’ll work it out?”

Hisao shrugged, still smiling, “that’s up to them.”

“We can help, right?” I asked.

Hisao’s smile became I smirk as he raised an eyebrow, “now who's meddling?”

“I have a right; I am a mother,” I declared, lifting my chin to pose in as arrogant a posture as I could imagine –not really my strong suit.

Suppressing a chuckle –or a snicker- Hisao perked his head to listen into the living room, though what he expected to hear, I had no idea. He took a few steps back and carefully peeked into the room. After a quick glance he returned to me. Smiling, he offered me his right hand, “if they need a poke or prod, we’ll be here. Shall we retire to the kitchen, milady?”

Suppressing a giggle with some difficulty, I curtsied lightly and took his offered hand, “I would be delighted to, Sir Meddles-Alot.”

+++

I’m not entirely sure what that was, but here it is.

Yeah, this fic is as much about Hisao and Hanako as it is Shizune and Misha. The two relationships have some parallels to them, and I liked juxtaposing them for this fic. It also keeps Shizune and Misha a bit mysterious, to reflect the more… complicated nature of their lives, considering who Shizune’s father is.

I’m deliberately keeping things vague so readers can draw their own conclusions. Hope you enjoyed this birthday interlude, we will resume our normal broadcasting schedule Tuesday with Mystery Seven: Hisao and Kenji Versus the Predator!

[Mirage_GSM]

“You are not and idiot,”

an

"You’re scarring is the issue here, not mine.”

Your

“now whose meddling?”

who's

[Hoitash]

Fixed, thanks

[Hoitash]

Hello, boys! I’m BAAAAAAACK!!!

Mystery Seven: Hisao and Kenji VS. The Predator!


Part One: Prey


A year had passed since I, Hisao Nakai, and my best friend, Kenji Setou, had embarked on quite possibly the dumbest bunch of adventures we had ever undertaken, not counting are insane college escapades, most of which I’d prefer to forget anyway. Somehow, we had survived, and managed to make the world a better place through our actions. Now, seeking to leave our work for posterity, Kenji, myself, and my wife Hanako had managed to leave a record of our activities. Said record was in the form of adventure genre fiction, and the first book in the series was due out in a few months. My wife and my best friend are writers, and having them work on it seemed a simple idea. Fortunately, my wife thought it was entirely fiction, and, considering some of the stuff Kenji and I did, I don’t blame her a bit.

I know that sounds incredibly insane, but this is Kenji we’re talking about. Besides wanting his deeds known to the world, he wanted to make sure the wider world was prepared if the Secret Societies we had helped defeat ever came back. Plausible deniability never hurt, either. It did run the risk of earning the ire of the organized criminals that had started to supplant the Societies in the resultant power vacuum, but they were an occupational hazard for Kenji at this point, anyway. My name was kept out of Kenji’s stuff, and things had been quiet enough that I wasn’t too worried about anything happening –silly me. I still made sure I had a Tesla pistol handy when I left the office, though, and I knew Kenji always had his trusty Nambu pistol concealed somewhere on him when he left home.

Book and paranoia aside, I was ready to move on with my life. After being shot at, sliced at, illegally entering several foreign countries, and getting shot at some more, I wanted to live a quiet life with my friends, my job, my wife, and my three kids. Unfortunately, life is rarely kind to those who want a quiet life. Just ask Ciaphas Cain –HERO OF THE IMPERIUM.

Two days a week I spent several hours in the spacious office of Kenji’s private detective agency. Our earlier adventures aside, being a private investigator is actually pretty boring. So most of the time we spent together in the office was used either eating pizza and drinking whiskey, or looking over papers and files for Kenji when he needed an extra pair of eyes. I also drove him around when he needed a ride. Kenji’s office had several cabinets and bookshelves around it, all of them well organized and neat, thanks to Kenji’s fiancé, Miya. The office itself was spacious and well lit, which was a blessing a curse thanks to the atrocious mustard yellow walls. Kenji liked the color, for whatever reason, so I was stuck with it.

This particular day, Kenji was sitting in one of the three brown leather rolling chairs of his office, behind his large, dark wooden desk. He had short black hair, large, round, thick glasses, and a brown suit exactly like the one I wore. A red and gold scarf was wrapped around his neck as he stared at the small portable radio placed on the desk. I was sitting across the desk from him, also gazing at the radio. Besides the radio, a laptop and two cans of soda were the only things on the desk. The office’s vents were spewing cold air, the reason being explained by the radio’s latest weather report:

“And the heat wave scorching most of Japan continues, with record breaking temperatures expected for the next several days, if not the next week. Moving on to the news, another man was found brutally murdered in his apartment last night. The police are unwilling to disclose his name at this time, but the man was found in the bedroom of his very lavish apartment, several body guards killed around him. The man himself was disemboweled, and his skull and spine were not at the scene.”

Kenji grunted and turned off the radio, “that’s the third one this week.”

I nodded, though I doubted my legally blind partner could see, “yeah. Are you sure all the victims were former Yakuza members?”

Kenji nodded, his face firm, “so far, definitely. All of them paid a blood debt to get out, and some of them had very high profile murders on their records before they quit.”

Kenji’s network of informants and contacts was both expansive and frightening. The less I knew about it, the safer my family was.

Speaking of family and organized crime, “at least Jigoro Hakamichi is safe.”

Kenji’s face looked grim as the light glinted off his glasses, “for now, at least.”

As if summoned by his pessimism, the wooden and glass door to the office, closed to keep the cold air in, and locked up like a vault to assuage Kenji’s paranoia, was shoved open so hard it slammed loudly into the wall protector and re-shut itself with a hard thud. The door was opened again more carefully, the business sign and the open sign clattering lightly as the door eased open. Striding in forcefully and quickly, Shizune Hakamichi and her partner, Shiina “Misha” Mikado, marched into the office and stopped in front of me.

My former classmates looked similar to each other, with long hair and expensive skirted suits. Shizune had long black hair in a ponytail and black half-rimmed glasses. Misha had long bubblegum pink hair down her back, and her suit was brown, whereas Shizune’s was black and a bit shorter. The two were posed the same, though, with their hands on their hips and their eyes glaring at us.

Kenji leaned forward over the desk to look at them, his eyes widening when he recognized who it was; even after over a decade, Kenji and Shizune couldn’t stand each other.

“Welcome to Setou and Nakai Private Investigative Services, how can we help you?” I rattled off.

Shizune immediately frowned and started moving her hands, using sign language to communicate with a world designed for people with functioning eardrums. Misha looked at the signing and quickly started translating what she was saying, her perky voice a stark contrast to the obviously irate pair.

“Shicchan demands~ your help with her father! After the help you gave us last time, she knows you are the only ones that can save him this time!”

Kenji groaned angrily and stood up, pointing a finger at Shizune, “Listen here, Miss Hakamichi. You were once my client. That does not give you the right to barge into my office and make demands of me!”

“Please help us! Again~!” Misha pleaded. I’m pretty sure that was her, not Shizune. Judging by the fact that Shizune had grabbed Kenji by the collar and was shaking him, that was probably a safe bet.

“Shizune, calm down!” I snapped –in futility, of course- while Misha worked to pry Shizune off my partner. When she finally broke off her assault, I placed a firm hand on Kenji’s shoulder to calm him. He slowly sat back down, glaring at the former Student Council President through his thick glasses. She, in turn, glared at him over her half-frames. The two were more alike than either would ever admit: stubborn, proud, and assertive; probably why they disliked each other so much.

I stood up and offered my chair to Misha, who quickly sat down after forcing Shizune into the chair next to her. Shizune still looked on the verge of assaulting my partner, but she started signing furiously again instead.

“Shizune knows about her father’s past, and she’s worried that he’s the next target of the latest~ string of murders!” Misha translated.

I sighed- I knew helping the former Yakuza member would come back to bite us. I knew that a year ago, too, but I had hoped the fallout would’ve settled by now.

“And what makes you think that?” Kenji asked. Now that he had been directed to focus on a possible case, he could at least pretend to be professional.

“The murdered men were killed in the order they left the Yakuza,” Misha stated, “and her father is the next on that list.”

Kenji raised an eyebrow, “and you’re sure of this?”

Shizune nodded, “our business contacts are very thorough,” Misha replied.

“I know the feeling,” I muttered, “what would you want us to do? Talk to the police, or his company. They have more hired guns then a Mexican drug cartel.”

“They are most of the hired guns for Mexican drug cartels,” Kenji quipped.

I could tell Misha hadn’t translated that, because Shizune wasn’t throttling Kenji. Misha instead gave me a mildly patronizing look.

“Hicchan, you know we can’t do that~! The police would ask about his past, and his company would just get slaughtered. It doesn’t matter how many men are between this murderer and his target, they all die! The only one’s that don’t are family members and cleaning staff.”

That got my attention. The details of the murders had been pretty vague. It was obvious a psychopathic serial killer was on the loose, but the police were trying very hard to prevent mass panic at the same time they tried to keep the populace informed and cautious. My scientific curiosity was starting to get to me, but I had to keep it quashed, lest I end up parachuting into Thailand again, or something else equally absurd.

“So what do you want us to do?” Kenji asked.

“Find out who is committing these murders and stop them!” Misha shouted, slamming her fist on the desk for emphasis, “violently. Er… Shicchan said she wants their head on a stake, but I don’t think she means that~.”

“Hold on,” I said, “as much as we understand how you feel- and trust me, we do- we can’t get involved in this. The law is very, very clear on what private investigators can and cannot meddle with, and this is definitely something we cannot.”

Like that stopped us before. Still, this was some serious shit going on, and I wanted to avoid it as much as I could. Unfortunately, Shizune stopped signing to stare at me, her large, alluring blue eyes watery as they pleaded to me for help. My oldest daughter had that same damn look when she wanted a cookie before dinner. It didn’t help that Shizune had reconciled with her cousin Lilly and I saw her twice a month for tea, either. Nor the thought that she was quite capable of decapitating me with her family katana should she desire to.

I sighed heavily and looked at Kenji, who frowned, rolled his eyes, and pointed a finger damningly at Misha as he surrendered to the inevitable.

“We want the same fee you gave us when we rescued him two years ago,” he declared.

The two women nodded immediately once that was translated, “done.”

Kenji nodded, “alright, looks like we’re in business.”

“Are you sure about this?” I asked as he pulled out some paperwork from a desk drawer.

Kenji placed the forms and a black pen on the desk, then leaned towards me to whisper, “I have never been less sure about anything in my entire life, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting that murderer get a hold of a former client.”

He never admitted it, but I think his future marriage was making him a bit emotional, and he was actually taking the job because he didn’t want Shizune to go through the pain of losing her father, especially in such a brutal fashion. Considering the fates that had befallen my wife’s parents, I saw the line of thought. Or he was doing it for the enormous payoff; two briefcases full of large denomination notes was a great motivator.

After filling out some paperwork for tax reasons, and getting a rough guestimate on how much time we had before Mr. Hakamichi’s head would be untimely separated from his body -about two days, based on the previous murders- the two women left. As if trying to get the last word, Shizune slammed the door shut behind her with enough force to shake the walls.

“Such a demure young woman,” I quipped.

“Don’t know how you can stand her, man,” Kenji grunted.

I shrugged. She was a good person with a big heart, she just had a big attitude to go with it. At the moment, though, we had more pressing problems then my extended family by association–Hallmark didn’t exactly have a card for “wife’s best friend’s cousin.”

I sat and leaned back in my chair and twirled a bit to face Kenji in his chair, “how do you propose to find this murderer in two days and stop them, when the police haven’t been able to? Not to mention the fact we have no leads, no clues, and no time.”

Kenji sighed, grinned, and shook his head, “man, do you really have such little faith in me? After all we’ve been through?”

Kenji reached for the laptop and turned the screen to face me. I leaned in a bit to read the page eon the monitor. It was an article on a similar series of murders in Los Angeles, California, back in 1975, which also took place during a heat wave.

“Well, as interesting as that is, it doesn’t really help,” I said, “unless you know that cop.”

Kenji shook his head, “no, but I think I know someone who can help.”

He usually did, “who? You’re not going to bug Claudia again, are you?”

“Do you know anyone else we can call when weird shit goes down?” Kenji asked, rubbing his spleen for emphasis, “besides, my spleen hasn’t been this bad since that fiasco with the Freemasons, and on top of that we have a time limit.”

I shrugged and assented, “fair enough. What time is it in South Dakota?”

“We’ll find out,” Kenji said, setting the laptop in front of his chair. He started typing away and angling the small webcam clipped to the side for a few minutes. By the time I had moved my chair over to sit next to him, the tired face of a now familiar, normally perky redhead was looking at us.

“Do you two have any idea what time it is?” she grumbled, reaching for a mug of coffee for emphasis. My knowledge of English had never been great, but over the last year I had been working to improve it. It was a pain in the ass, but at least I could read sci-fi books untranslated now- War of the Worlds didn’t translate well into Japanese.

“Not really,” I said, earning a tired smile from her once she was done drinking.

“So what do you need this time, more grenades?” she asked.

“Maybe,” I said, and looked at Kenji to start us off- talking to Claudia would take both of our language skills, and Kenji had a knack for language I sometimes envied.

Once we were done explaining, Claudia wasn’t smiling, but she was awake. She was also typing away rapidly on her keyboard while glancing slightly down to where she had moved our window.

“Believe it or not, I know someone who can help,” she stated, her voice coming off as robotic and monotone- she had switched on a translator program for expediency, “he used to be head of a Department of Defense research company. Now he’s Director of research and development at a company that specializes in advanced military weaponry that has technology suitable for civilian applications.”

“I really hope he doesn’t have to put that all on his business card,” I muttered to Kenji.

“Good, he’s online,” Claudia said, “I’m gonna see if he can go to Japan with some of his goodies to help you two.”

I glanced at Kenji; that did not bode well.

“I’m not sure that’s necessary,” I said, “we were just hoping you had some information, and maybe a few more Tesla toys.”

Claudia shook her head, “you need something a helluva lot bigger. And you’ll need some armor, and you’ll need somewhere to hide this guy as bait so you can light an area up without attracting attention,” Claudia blinked, “I can’t help you with that, but you might wanna remember that. Thank God, he said he can help. He’ll be in Japan in… thirteen hours, and he’ll call you when he’s set up.”

“Set up?” I asked. This was getting complicated, but then again, if Claudia was freaked out, we probably should’ve been, too.

“We might not have that kind of time,” Kenji said, “two days is a maximum here; we might have less.”

“Unless he can teleport to us, we don’t have a choice,” I remarked.

Claudia smirked at that, “he would if he could. Alright, he also says he has some information for you.”

“Why is he being so helpful?” Kenji asked, his paranoia likely getting to him.

Claudia smiled, “because I asked him to. And he probably wants to field test whatever gear he’s gonna give you guys to try. Oh, and he’s really looking forward to your book when it’s released in the fall.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense,” I said, “by the way, what’s his name?”

“Doctor Douglas Fargo.”

+++
Next Chapter

I brazenly and unabashedly submit this as evidence that I am working to redirect the series. Whether or not it is sufficient, I leave up to you.

[Mirage_GSM]

Claudia shook her head, “you need something a helluva lot bigger. And you’ll need some armor, and you’ll need somewhere to hide this guy as bait so you can light an area up without attracting attention,”

I submit this as evidence that the change in direction probably won't be as great as you imply it will be...
Never heard of this Eureka series before... Is it famous in the US?

[Hoitash]

I submit this as evidence that the change in direction probably won't be as great as you imply it will be...

It's a gradual process. The optimism helps keep me going. As does the fact that I have so much fun writing this series

Think of it less as a major change in direction, and more a major reworking and streamlining of the current direction to fit the older Mystery's setting and tone. So essentially I'm taking all the good from early on, all the good from later on (what I consider good being the major source of contention at this point) and making the bad from later on either go away or fit into the good of later on.

That probably just made things worse, so I'm gonna clam up and let my writing vindicate/condemn me.

Never heard of this Eureka series before... Is it famous in the US?

In the sense it was one of a handful of reasons to watch SyFy Channel. It ended this year due to lack of revenue creation for the channel (ie, viewership was steady and not increasing.) It had a five season run.