Chapter Text
His family home is in Osaka. Taro Amami owned a large fishing company and often went out in the water with Rantaro, me, and another friend of ours before he retired...
Shuichi hadn't been back in Osaka in many years. He apparently had been born here, his mother and his father and himself living here prior to being housed by his uncle in Tokyo. The events that transpired to his leaving of Osaka were... Hazy at best. He'd left when he was very young, his father and mother's deaths were the result of the incident.
He didn't have the Kansai dialect anymore, having lost that along with any pleasant childhood memories he had of the place. Now, starring at the busy waterways and streets just out of the train station, he wondered how he could forget it.
The rain had let up here, allowing the mercantile city's radiance to bloom. Shops were open, people were out and about. They all wouldn't even know a crime had taken place even if it occurred right in front of them.
Shuichi brought his hat low over his eyes, the bright weather allowing him to look inconspicuous with his attire. Hands in his pockets, he began walk through the streets trying to find his way to the Amami household.
"FIND LOVE IN GOD! ATUA'S LOVE HAS NO BOUNDS!"
A religious crier stood off to the side of a busy intersection. His darkened skin and brightly colored dress made him an extremely apparent sight. White markings were etched from his forehead and stretched well into the lowers of his body.
Religion had begun to grow more diverse these last few years. Cults in the rural areas, religious contemporaries, when a rash of a bad flu swept through the country nearly all of an entire small island erupted in rapid religious fever as they proclaimed it a sign of the "end of all of whom were not chosen". That same religion was what the crier was speaking about.
Perhaps out of pity, Shuichi dropped a few yen coins. However, in doing so, the crier's hands grabbed his in a vice like grip. It took all of Shuichi's discipline to not lash out at the man; either by punching or kicking him, or even more drastic measures.
"You're walking a dangerous path boy..." the man's voice growled gutturally in Shuichi's ears as he stared. Many of the crier's teeth were missing, leaving empty gums and revealing a flicking black tongue. Shuichi struggled but the man held fast. "Careful on that path that everyone you're tagging along ain't hanging back to be snatched..."
Shuichi finally got himself free when the man's grip slackened and he began to cry once more.
"JOIN IN ATUA'S EMBRACE AND FIND YOUR MEANIG! FIND YOUR TRUTH!" Shuichi, shaken by the ordeal, did his best to calm his beating heart. Righting his hat and tie, he made his way back on the path with a slight glance in reflective surfaces to get a glance over his shoulders every now and then.
He could breathe a sigh of relief by the time he found a known associate of Amami Ranataro; namely the place where one of his sisters apparently goes for self-defense lessons. An Aikido dojo that has a rather eccentric sensei with even more eccentric rules.
"Uyah!" Thump. Shuichi flinched as he saw the large wooden mannequin intent on acting as an uke be thrown with such force that its mechanical limbs flew off. Shuichi recognized that thing as one of those state of the martial arts mannequins too, it's limbs should be that easy to be destroyed. "That is a standard technique usable in many situations. Alright now find partners and--"
The Sensei's eyes widened marginally upon their sight of Shuichi. Granted he wasn't the most pleasant to look out, pale to the point of near unhealthiness, and normally quite thin due to his poor diet and habits. However, Shuichi knew it was more than just his physical appearance was what bothered the Sensei.
No, it more forward than that.
"Chabashira-sensei, what's wrong?" One of the students asked, a girl no more than ten.
"N-Nothing, just go practice okay? I'll be with you all in a second. Uraha-chan, you supervise them, okay?"
"Hai, Chabashira-sensei!"
Shuichi tilted his hat low over his eyes, hoping if he at least stayed far enough way that nothing volatile would happen to him. There was another reason why this Neo-Akido dojo was so special.
"What's a degenerate like you doing here?"
It only allowed women to participate. With many domestic abuses and defacement of woman over the years, the Neo-Akido dojo acted as both a shelter for woman and childeren and a place to practice this Neo-Akido martial art. Boys over the age of eight are not allowed to enter the actual practice mat. Which is why Shuichi stayed behind the glass divider.
Reaching into his coat very slowly, he noted how tense this Tenko Chabashira was, he slowly pulled out his wallet. His Private Detective license exposed to reveal his identity. He kept his eyes low.
"I'm Saihara Shuichi, I'm just here to ask que--"
"What sort of degenerate comes here to ask questions? You hear to prey on the woman here! Or maybe you're one of those sickos who go after little girls! Peh, the worst of worst."
This is not getting anywhere fast... Shuichi held back the urge to sigh and instead grounded his resolution.
"I'm here to ask about the status of a friend of a friend." Shuichi quickly spoke again before Chabashira could devolve further on the statement. "Hana Amami? I was told by--"
"How do you know that!" Before Shuichi could speak further, he was suddenly on his back as the wind was knocked out of him. His vision went white as he felt the hard wood floor beneath him. Before he could right his bearings, an elbow was poised on his throat, nearly cutting off air flow. He got only paltry sums of air as Chabashira's eyes bore into his with a blazing fury. "How! Talk before Tenko breaks your neck!"
"Hrk!" Shuichi's head began to pound from a steadying lack of oxygen. Chabashira pressure on his windpipe was letting up anytime soon, and Shuichi could already feel numbness in his extremities.
"Oi, Tenko." A rough voice pierced Shuichi's ears at the same time that Chabashira's elbow no longer pressed on his throat. Shuichi rolled onto his side as a fit of coughing spasmed his body, oxygen now flooding his lungs as he greedily breathed.
Why me... Shuichi thought as he finally got his breathing under control. Looking up he saw a monster of a woman holding up Chabashira in one hand, the other was holding some sort of duffel bag over her shoulder.
Shuichi definitely knew who this is. Oogami Sakura, world class martial artist, grand master of her family dojo, vagabond, and a single woman currently traveling the world to develop herself after the passing of her rival and lover, Kenshiro, the former World's Best Martial Artist.
"Wah, let Tenko go Sakura-senpai!" Tenko cried as she struggled from the larger woman's grip. However, no Aikido, Neo or otherwise, could do much without their feet planted.
Oogami instead helped Shuichi up, albeit roughly and before the detective was prepared for. Shuichi stood on unsteady feet at the moment Sakura dropped Tenko onto her own, looking rather cross with the younger woman.
"Tenko, I've already told you about harassing any men who come here."
"But Tenko has good reason this time!"
"What on Earth could that be?"
"He's looking for one of my students!"
Shuichi regarded their conversation with very slight attention, more confused on making sure his body wasn't too damaged by whatever Chabashira did to him. Throat was fine, lung good, nothing broken, pride wounded, yup everything was healthy.
"I'm the Private Detective, cough, Shuichi Saihara," he repeated pulling out his identification once more. "I'm here to look for Amami Hana."
"See!" Shuichi ignored Chabashira's shout.
"The matter in regard to why is private and my client asked it to not be disclosed, however I will say that the nature of the why is for completely unbiased questions, no stalking, harassing, or malfeasance of any kind." While Chabashira looked repulsed, Oogami looked contemplative.
"Tenko, wasn't Amami Hana one of your students who suddenly left you no more than a week ago?" Oogami's question made Tenko flinch and stiffly turn to her senior.
"E-Eh, well..." Oogami sighed before looking iback at Shuichi. "I apologize on behalf of Tenko. She's... Tense when it comes to men." Shuichi didn't say anything, the pressure on his neck was still fresh to him. "Tenko answer his questions."
"Tenko hasn't seen Amami Hana in over a week. That's all Tenko will say." The woman sniffed stiffly before moving to leave, before a hard grip from Oogami stopped her. "Sakura-senpai!"
"Tenko, your actions have brought shame not only to this dojo, but by extension, everyone who follows your system." The woman's words were harsh and Chabashira seemed to shrink before her. The second-hand shame that hit Shuichi was bad enough to lower the brim of his hat. If he doesn't see it, he can pretend this wasn't happening go his face. “You require both enlightenment of the mind, just as well as the body. Saihara-san!”
“H-Hai*!” Shuichi spoke in a startled tone as he turned towards the larger woman. “I-I mean… Yes?” In that instance Shuichi actually slipped into the kansai dialect, the shock and vague comfortability of Osaka hitting him more than he thought.
“Do you mind having some help on your case?”
“Huh?” Both Chabashira and Shuichi looked flabbergasted at the woman as she set her belongings down. “What do you mean?”
“You’re rather frail looking.” Like a bullet shot him, Shuichi felt the impact on his spirit. “You don’t have much muscle definition.” Another shot. “And from the way Tenko was holding you, it seemed you didn’t even have the sense to cover your windpipe before being taken down, very dangerous for someone in your profession.” That was it, that completely Shuichi. Spiritually, he wanted to leave, crawl in a hole, and live out the rest of his days as a turtle or something. Physically, he just moved the brim of his hat lower.
“I have a feeling, for both your sakes, that Tenko should accompany you.”
“What!”
“Nani the fuck!**”
Oogami seemed satisfied with her idea, despite the obvious distress of both Shuichi and Chabashira. The two looked at the woman with wide eyes and slack jaws.
“Yes, that’s a promising idea. Don’t worry about the dojo Tenko, I’ll oversea the students for the time being while you help Saihara-san. You might as well pick up the dues from the Amami’s anyway, take Saihara-san with you as well.” Before either of them could argue further, Sakura picked them both up by the scruff of their clothes, much like kittens, and tossed them outside of the dojo, what shouldn’t be done with kittens.
Both landed hardy on the pavement before Oogami closed the door behind her, dusting her hands as the two stood up. Shuichi straighted his clothes, while Tenko, still wearing her practice uniform, stared wide eyed at where Oogami had been.
It had been a long pause before Shuichi tried his luck and attempted to wake her.
“C-Chabashira-sa—”
He got no further as an inhuman shriek came from the girl’s mouth before she stood. Shuichi recoiled before the girl ran to the door and began to slam her palms on it.
“Sakura-senpai, please let Tenko in! Tenko will be a good girl, Tenko promises!” The woman began to tear up in earnestly as she continued to hit the oaken door. It did not budge however, and after a few minutes, Chabashira collapsed at the foot.
“C-Chabashira-san?” Shuichi asked as he carefully approached. He kept a seven-foot distance between them, close enough that his voice could be heard, but far enough from her immediate grasp that he wouldn’t be thrown. She didn’t respond.
“Ch-Chabahshira-san, if it means much to you… I didn’t want this outcome either?” Shuichi offered. The woman only stood silently and briskly walked past Shuichi.
“Like Tenko cares.” That her answer before walking off, her back stiff and she held her chin up. Shuichi looked scandalized before she called over her shoulder, “come! Tenko doesn’t have all day!”
… It’s an improvement? Shuichi thought with a sad sigh before catching up and maintaining that seven-foot distance between himself and the Neo-Aikido master.
It became clear to Shiuchi that Chabashira Tenko, master of the Neo-Aikido school of Aikido, was a master of her craft. Even if she was more diminutive in size to Oogami, only two inches below Shuichi’s own height, she could easily lift a man like he weighed like air. As she did to the purse snatcher that came too close to her, sending him flipping and landing on his back when he came too close to her.
“The evil has been vanquished by Tenko!” She proclaimed proudly as she stood over the dazed man, much like a lioness stands over downed prey. Shuichi laughed under his breath, the entire situation feeling surreal.
What happened to working alone? He thought with a scoff, knowing the exact reason why he worked alone. His shoulders slumped before he approached the scene, the police had arrived and had begun to take the purse snatcher away as Chabashira looked at him with scorn.
“How dare a degenerate like him attempt to do such a vile act! He should have his hand chopped off!” Shiuchi did his best not to stumble and fall from surprise.
“For stealing a purse?”
“In other countries, the punishment for similar crimes are such.” She stood resolute at the belief.
“Those countries are also known for having the highest amount of crime, poverty, and general lack of social order,” Shuichi countered.
“But there, the crimes and punishments are equal to all!” Chabashira replied stubbornly, a vein snapped in Shuichi’s mind at the statement. The very nature of proclamation affecting strongly.
“You got that wrong,” he shouted. The intensity of it shocked Chabarashira and broke her posture. “In countries like that, the status of men and women are disproportionate. A man who steals may lose his hand, but a woman who steals would lose her life!”
“What!?” Chabashira’s face morphed into one of pure and absolute shock at Shuichi’s words. Her eyes going wide as everything about her went stiff, even the ribbon in her hair. “B-But that can’t be right!”
“The country you’re referring too has a long list of many laws which inflict superficial maiming on people for offenses that are comparatively harmless to the crime. Even more so, the rights of the woman are nothing like they are here,” Shuichi stated with a grave voice. Chabashira looked shocked as all the strength left her legs.
“N-No way…” Shuichi tried to feel accomplished, but the victory felt hollow in his chest. Especially with the way that Chabashira seemed to be taking the news. Her upbringing might not have been the best, if the calling of all males “degenerates” and altercations where anything to infer by.
“… But there are some women’s rights activists working in that country, advocating for the equality of sexes,” Shuichi remembered. Chabashira looked up at him after he spoke. “A-And elsewhere, there are women willing to take bullets to defend their rights.
“Haha! Yes, women are standing up to the degenerate devils!” Chabashira cheered. Shuichi just laughed usually, it wasn’t the exact affect he wanted to give to the woman but at least she was willing to move. “Come Tenko needs to see for what reason Amami Hana did not come to Tenko’s dojo!”
There jubilance in Chabashira’s voice, an excitement that held true to her character. She was a positive outgoing person with a lot of energy. It was infectious, even to someone who had been on the resceiving end of that energy like Shuichi.
That all dissipated from the two of them upon reaching the Amami household in a quiet community in Osaka’s residential district. The door was unlocked, and Chabashira foolishly opened the door as Shuichi began to smell a long-forgotten scent that still lay dominant in his mind.
Blood.
“HIYAH!” Chabashira screamed as she saw the carnage before her. It stained the walls, the floors, the damn ceiling. The entry way looked like a scene from the gates of Hell, hope abandoned at the front door as Shuichi stared at the scene with a pale face.
Chabashira stood rooted to the spot, her knees shaking. Shuichi walked forward, making sure his footsteps didn’t run into the blood. He pulled a pair of latex gloves from inside his coat, pulling them on before his hands went to touch the blood. It was dry, set into the walls and floors.
“W-W-What happ—” Chabashira started to speak before Shuichi held up a band. They had yet to explore the entirety of the house, and yet, Shuichi could feel that they weren’t alone. His other hand had pulled out his revolver, the hammer being cocked back. Chabashira’s eyes widened upon seeing the gun in Shuichi’s hand.
“Y-You have a gun!” She hissed at the sight. Shuichi didn’t answer, instead he placed a finger to his lips as he cocked the hammer back and held the revolver in both his hands, angled down with his elbows tensed up, ready to spring up and fire at a moment’s notice. “Y-You’re glossing over the f-fact you have a g—”
Shuichi raised a hand to silence Chabashira. He heard it, something scuttling on the upper floors.
“Stay here, if anyone tries to leave, stop them.” Shuichi didn’t leave much time to argue for the vocal Aikido master, and instead moved further into the house. He knew full well he was infringing in a real crime scene, the amount of blood alone telling that whatever occurred ended violently.
Soft oxford shoes easily masked his approach on the stairs. His breathing began to grow heavy in his attempts to calm his speeding heart, the blood in his ears almost deafening him. He approached a door that lead to the second floor.
A breath. Two breaths. Three.
Shuichi turned the knob and tried to peek through the door. The hinges were well oiled and so the door inched open silently. No lights were on, but Shuichi’s eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness, and he nearly screamed.
There were two bodies, or what mangled pieces of meat could be considered as bodies. The skin was rendered from the bareness of the body, revealing blackened muscle or bare bones. Eyes slashed, a long thin red line running from temple to temple. Faces peeled back to show the sinews and meat of the face, twins in gore the two looked. The only real differences, the length of hair which cascaded down the back of one, and stayed short and shaggy for another.
Bodies were bare and almost… Mutilated to the point of non-recognizable for face, body, anything using the surface level of identification of the body. What Shuichi did see, was that this was a man, and the other a woman. Muscle and fat structures along the… Exposed chest identified as so.
The killing of these two however were almost ritualistic. Both crucified with what looks like scissors piercing the palms of the hands, arms outstretched passed their usual length, their arms were dislocated to do so. Judging by the tearing between the ligaments of the exposed shoulders and arms, it was done pre-mortem.
Shuichi felt sick to his stomach, but it wasn’t his first time seeing a murder scene in the flesh. It wasn’t even the worst he’s seen. It was still sickening, regardless.
This looks like Genocider Syo’s work… But he’s been silent for years… Shuichi remembered the case work he reluctantly aided the police with alongside his uncle. Hell, every person with critical thinking and investigative skills were on the Genocider Syo case. The sheer amount of bodies which piled up was... Horrifying. But that was nearly five years ago, he was still in High School.
Now, he was faced once more bodies, much like back then, much like--.
Crick.
A shadow moved just out of Shuichi’s eyes and burst through the window. The shattering of glass and the appearance of a creature which looked less than human burst was silhouetted against the light. They were running.
“Uwah!” That was Chabashira.
Shuichi turned on his heel and rushed down the stairs, intent on chasing whomever or whatever was running. If this was Genocider Syo, he wasn’t going to let him escape. Not this time.
“Chabashira!” Shuichi burst through the front door once more, nearly catching the Aikido master in the face before taking off after a figure clad in a bloody white clothed and barefoot. Bloody foot prints trailed behind them, small and almost… Frail looking. “The suspect is getting away!”
“W-What?” Chabashira screamed, but quickly reacted and moved to follow Shuichi. Already he was quite a ways away, the suspect even further. However, with Shuichi’s keen eye, he was able to follow them. Eventually the figure tried to climb a fence, and before they could get over it, Shuichi’s hands gripped the large white shirt which covered nearly their entire body. He grabbed them and threw them down, making whoever this was, face him.
This suspect was a girl, who’s thin gaunt face and sickly pale face streaked with the red of blood. A single glassy green eye stared up at Shuichi apathetically, the other was carved and in its place, was a single black plain with a red dot in its center, scars tissue coating the flesh around the eye. The girl’s shirt ripped and tore in the place where Shuichi grabbed to reveal the bare and pale flesh of a young girl no older than twelve. A thin flat chest and near translucent skin revealing the girl’s ribs as well as…
“Is that a barcode?” Shuichi’s eyes narrowed at that. A barcode it seemed to be, either tattooed—No, she was branded. “What in God’s na—”
“Hiyah!”
“Wha—Ah!” Shuichi screamed as he was suddenly flipped and flung off the girl, landing on his back and feeling the air escape his lungs once more.
“Get off of her!” Chabashira stood over him, legs tensed and hands up with flexed fingers and open palms ready for a fight. Shuichi lay dazed on the ground as Chabashira stood in front of the girl, who was starting to pull herself onto her feet. “What the Hell is wrong with you?”
Shuichi decided that enough was enough.
“Chabashira! That girl is the suspect!” The anger is his voice even surprised Shuichi, but the sheer volume and sudden emotional change was enough for Chabashira to take notice as the girl tried to climb the fence once again.
“W-Wuh?”
“Grab her!”
Chabashira immediately latched onto the girl’s ankles just as the younger girl’s torso attempted to bend over the fence. With a shout, she pulled the girl up and off the fence and brought her back on the ground. Held in a full nelson hold with her feet dangling off the ground, the young girl tried to break free from Chabashira’s grasp.
The girl grew feral, snapping and trying to bite Chabashira hands. Her shirt rode up her body and to Shuichi’s shock, saw several black tattoo like lines run up the sides of her body. He knew however that tattoos didn’t pull on the skin like that. Those were brands. And upon noting her neck, Shuichi nearly shouted.
“You’re Rinka Amami!”
Almost all at once, the girl stopped trying to break free and Chabashira let her go. She flopped as if she was boneless, eyes glazed over as if she died. Shuichi immediately pressed her fingers to her neck, sighing with relief that there was still a pulse, yet looked at the girl with a look of intense worry.
“What on Earth happened to her…”