CHAPTER 7 #2
They walked the open staircase and before Shinji had time to knock, Nakajima’s voice echoed from inside, telling them to come in.
It was a tiny studio apartment, kitchen and living space in one room.
A futon mattress and duvet were folded in a corner while the middle of the room was occupied by a low table.
Nakajima sat on a cushion, reading something on his phone.
His hair was tied in a ponytail and he wore a casual t-shirt and long pajama pants.
It was quite the contrast with how Teruo usually saw him.
On his left, two swords rested on a stand and next to them was the usual shinobi-like attire Nakajima wore while on the job, clean and neatly folded.
Nakajima’s red eyes fell on Teruo and his lips curved in a smirk. “I was hoping for a hot date with Shinji, but I guess you can watch if you want.”
“Do you have a death wish?” Teruo growled.
“He’s just messing with you. Don’t listen to him.” Shinji sat on a cushion, then looked at Nakajima. “And you, don’t provoke him.”
“But he’s so easy to tease.”
“Don’t make me yank your ponytail,” Teruo threatened.
Nakajima wagged his brows. “I’m into that.”
Teruo opened his mouth for a retort, but Shinji grabbed onto his arm and dragged him down on a cushion.
“See? Easy to tease.” Nakajima waved a hand at Teruo while walking to the small kitchen counter to turn on the cassette gas stove.
“Fuck off.” Teruo rolled his eyes, then moved his attention to the apartment. “Are there protective wards or seals put in place?” Not that he could see them, but he was worried about their safety—Shinji’s safety.
“You learn fast.” Nakajima nodded in approval as he settled a kettle on the stove. “But no. I don’t need protective wards. People need protective wards against me.”
“Arrogant.”
“But true.” Nakajima shrugged.
“Yep,” Shinji agreed.
“I wasn’t worried about you,” Teruo continued. “What if we’re monitored by… you know…” He motioned his head to the neighborhood outside the apartment.
Nakajima’s gaze averted and the silence stretched as he sat back down. “That might actually happen soon and I won’t be able to stop it.”
A pit formed in Teruo’s stomach, but before he could say anything Shinji leaned over the table. “What the hell do you mean?”
“Shinobu has a classified file about you,” he told Teruo. “I have clearance, so I read it.”
Shinji’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? Since when?”
“Since she started working at the TMPD.”
It took Teruo a few good seconds to realize Nakajima was talking about Commissioner Horiuchi Shinobu. “Well, you two seem chummy, using her given name like that.”
“I work with her wife, so we’re pretty familiar with each other,” Nakajima said. “That’s why I call her Shinobu.”
“Wife?” Both Teruo and Shinji said at the same time. “I had no idea,” Teruo muttered.
“And she’ll likely never mention it at the TMPD, so keep quiet about it.
She’s married under the Onmyōryō’s law,” Nakajima explained.
“Anyway,” he continued, “the file has all sorts of personal details about you, your family, and about Shinji too. But she doesn’t yet know what transpired between your mom and Shinji’s mom.
Doesn’t know about your soul either, but she has figured out you’re an ‘anomaly’ as she put it. ”
“Fucking great,” Teruo growled. “I hope this wasn’t your doing.”
Shinji gasped at him. “Teruo!”
“It’s fine,” Nakajima said. “No, it wasn’t me.
I can’t say I’m surprised, though. She’s an Onmyōji.
They sense and see lots of things that other supernaturals might not notice.
People like her are the ones who created the Onmyōryō in the first place, so once she transferred to the TMPD, and so close to you, it was only a matter of time until she figured it out.
If I had a way to solve your problem earlier, she wouldn’t have noticed, but with the protective wards gone… ”
Shinji opened his backpack to grab the journals. He placed them on the table, pushing them toward Nakajima. “We still have time, don’t we? Since she doesn’t have the full story. We can fix it and leave no trace, yes?”
“That’s the hope.” Nakajima nodded. “How much has your mother written about her experiments?”
“I only skimmed a little through her first journals, but she seems thorough. She analyzed the healing ability of her reiryoku to a degree that I’m unfamiliar with—even more so since, as a Shinigami, I’m her complete opposite.”
Nakajima picked up the first journal in the pile and opened it in the middle. The room fell quiet as he read, his finger tracing over the page, occasionally stopping over a piece of info. “This is good,” he muttered, more to himself. “This will help me make a plan.”
A quiet breath of relief left Teruo, fortunately unnoticed by Shinji.
“What would be the next step?” Shinji asked, his attention completely focused on the journal.
“First, we need a way to fix the damage already done to the soul,” Nakajima said, pointing to Teruo’s chest. “Without fixing it, anything else is moot.”
“Do people just die without a soul?” Teruo wondered.
Nakajima stood again as the kettle hissed on the stove and he prepared the tea. “Yes. It’s imperative to fill the gap that the healing process left behind.”
“And after that?” Shinji said, sounding a bit impatient.
“After that we focus on stopping the chief’s soul from healing your energy. Meanwhile, you’ll need to be careful around him,” Nakajima glanced at Shinji as he prepared the tea. “Don’t let your energy out even when inactive.”
“I won’t. Would it help if I seal it temporarily?” Shinji continued.
“How will you explain that to the Onmyōryō?”
“Shit. Right…”
“Jurisdiction change?” Teruo proposed. “Your powers were sealed when you moved here, weren’t they?”
Shinji arched a brow and smiled. “As expected of a detective. But no. They do that when we move longer distances, not within the borders of the same city.”
“Damn…” Teruo shook his head. “Then supernatural abstinence it is. It’s the only kind of abstinence I’ll agree with. But—” He looked at Nakajima. “—make sure you fix the problem so he can use his energy around me in the future.”
Nakajima set the steaming cups of green tea on the table and Teruo quicky grabbed his, drinking to warm up his still cold body.
It seems Nakajima noticed it and narrowed his eyes at Teruo. “I’m surprised you want that given how much his energy is affecting you. Even supernaturals keep their distance from Shinigami. Their reiryoku is spooky and cold. No offense,” he told Shinji.
“Don’t say that about him,” Teruo growled.
“Take it easy.” Shinji placed a palm on bicep. “Kazuya is right. Many don’t like the coldness of our energy.”
“I don’t mind it.” Teruo caressed Shinji’s hand. “But I want to enjoy it while being alive.” He turned to Nakajima. “You’d better start reading and fix this.”
“Don’t be rude, Teruo! He’s helping us.”
Nakajima’s wicked smirk returned. “Bossy. Is he this bossy at home, too?”
“Yep. I find it hot,” Shinji said and winked at Teruo, sending a warm thrill through his abdomen.
“Mind if I borrow him to boss me around?” Nakajima joked.
“Don’t flirt with me!” Teruo snapped again.
“Playing hard to catch. I’m into that.”
Shinji sighed and waved in Teruo’s direction. “You can borrow him, but when he starts an entire lecture about how to efficiently organize the kitchen cabinet, or about how he won’t give you a blowjob until you put the wet towel out to dry, you’ll probably kick him out.”
Nakajima burst into raucous laughter, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
“I’m not that bad,” Teruo defended himself, but he too, wanted to laugh because he knew he was that bad.
“Last week I wanted to be sexy when I came out of the bathroom, so I threw the towel on the floor and crawled toward you. You started telling me that wet towels create moisture and moisture leads to mold.”
“And wasn’t that sexy?” Teruo grinned.
“Oh yes. I was so turned on. Lectures on mold get me hard as a rock.”
Teruo chuckled and pressed a kiss on Shinji’s cheek, unable to resist his adorable sass. Meanwhile, Nakajima was tilting sideways from laughter, and Teruo let himself forget why he was truly here just so he could enjoy this moment for a little while longer before reality came crashing back.
It happened sooner than he wanted because Shinji excused himself to go to the toilet. Teruo knew he had to seize the opportunity while Shinji was out of earshot.
“Listen,” Teruo lowered his voice. “Earlier, I saw a white glow around Shinji despite the fact that he wasn’t using his powers. Is that bad?”
Nakajima’s gleeful face turned serious. “Shinji’s probably struggling to keep it all in. Did you sense anything?”
“Well…” Teruo put a hand on his chest. “There was a pressure,” he whispered.
Nakajima didn’t answer, but the way his brows knit together said enough.
“Tell it to me straight,” Teruo continued. “What if everything fails? What if you find no solution? What then?”
“Well, Shinji will have to be in perfect control of himself, not do anything that would cause even a little bit of glow. Which isn’t easy.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
Nakajima drew back, clearly hesitating.
“Just tell me,” Teruo insisted.
After a moment, Nakajima blew a long breath. “If absolutely nothing works, then… I strongly suggest you update your will and make sure all your financials are in order.”
The answer hit Teruo like a brick, and his vision blurred for a split second.
Icy sweat crept down his spine as Nakajima’s words echoed in his mind and despite the open window, he felt like he was suffocating.
He’d expected it, of course. Somewhere deep inside he knew that was the next step if everything else failed.
He just didn’t want it spoken out loud, but he’d been the one who wanted a straight answer, so there it was.
“Right… yeah… makes sense,” Teruo mumbled.
Nakajima suddenly took a hold of Teruo’s wrist and squeezed.
Teruo almost pulled back, but for some reason didn’t, the strong grip somewhat comforting.
In any other situation, he wouldn’t have given Nakajima a second thought—a yakuza, and an assassin too, from what he gathered from Shinji.
Nakajima was a person so far away from Teruo’s world.
But here he sat, doing his best to help Teruo for nothing in return.
Does he really want nothing? Teruo wondered, the detective side of him suspicious as usual.
“We haven’t exhausted all our options,” Nakajima said, bringing Teruo out of his spiraling thoughts. “I’m not giving up and neither should you.”
“I needed to know the truth.”
“I know. You’re not the type to beat around the bush with pretty lies. I get that. But don’t give up on yourself yet. One good thing about me—besides my handsome face—is that I’m extremely resourceful.” The corner of his mouth curved in a smirk.
“Who lied to you about your face?”
“You’re a little shit, but I like you,” Nakajima continued. “As I said, I’m resourceful. Having lived for so long comes with some advantages, and now that I have the journals, I’ll know what to look for. And despite my slightly scandalous jobs—”
“Despicable,” Teruo corrected.
Nakajima shook his head, but the gentle smile never left his face. “You’re making it difficult to be nice. So, despite my jobs, I care more than you think. I’m not taking this situation lightly and I swear I’ll do everything in my power to help you—short of giving my soul to King Enma.”
Teruo swallowed hard. “Guess I’m about to meet the guy face to face.”
“Did Shinji tell you about the other side?”
“He avoids speaking about it because he thinks he’ll scare me. Or that the Onmyōryō might, I don’t know, lock me up or something.”
“Lock you up, no, but they will drive you insane with the NDAs and all the spying. They’ll probably prod you with needles too. They love testing anomalies like you.”
“You mean needles for bloodwork? I can tolerate those.”
“Both bloodwork and energy needles. I’ve been through it. Don’t ask me why, but I can tell you it’s unpleasant.”
Before Teruo could insist on an elaboration, Shinji returned from the bathroom and eyed them both. “Have you been talking behind my back?”
“We have,” Nakajima said. “The chief has been telling me how messy you are.”
“Yep.” Shinji nodded. “But I make up for it with my charm.” He gave Teruo one of his cute cheeky smiles, and Teruo couldn’t help but smile back.
After Nakajima gave Shinji multiple reassurances that he’d read the journals as fast as possible, the same young yakuza drove them back home. Shinji fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow, but Teruo was too wound up.
He’d never really thought about death. He knew one day the inevitable would happen and he used to be confident enough in his skills that he had little fear even when confronting murderers.
But lately that confidence waned and a sense of panic settled as his death seemed to approach faster than he imagined.
Rolling on his side, he looked at Shinji, remembering his anguish and the way he blamed himself for taking away Teruo’s life.
He never had and never would blame Shinji for the situation they found themselves in.
They had followed their hearts and neither could’ve predicted what consequences tampering with one’s soul would have.
Shinji wasn’t intentionally hurting him. He never would. He was good. Only good.
Teruo laid a hand on Shinji’s cheek and caressed it softly.
Shinji stirred a little, but didn’t wake up as he was a very heavy sleeper.
A long, sorrowful sigh escaped Teruo. He had so many plans for their future.
There were so many things left to do, but now all he could think of was that he would leave Shinji to drown in the agony of taking Teruo’s soul.
He turned back to stare at the ceiling. And Megumi? She’d be left without her friend and questions no one could answer, just how it had happened with Keiko.
And his mother? She had gone to Hiroshima all on her own to save him, and she’d have to watch him perish.
Now he truly feared death.