Title : Trigger Chapter 8
Pairing : RyoUchi
Rating : PG-15
Genre : Crime, drama
Summary: Nishikido Ryo was a disillusioned investigator in the Tokyo Major Crimes Division, filled with self-hatred and regret for not being able to save his sister. Uchi Hiroki was a journalist looking for a scoop. A macabre crime by a killer with a personal vengeance soon brings the two together.
A/N : I dun care that most of u probably forgot about the existence of this fic, I love this story. Comments still appreciated. XD

Chapter 7

Uchi Hiroki looked at the words on the computer screen, then with a grimace, hit the backspace. His article was far from the revealing exposé he had hoped it would be. He couldn’t look at Nishikido Ryo from the objective viewpoint he had hoped to maintain, but then this was the guy who had fed his obsession for years. And for a long time, he had equated scoring an interview with him to the Holy Grail of interviews, the one to land him on the front page. Who knew he would find his conscience in the process? As Yokoyama would say, serve him right. He probably deserved this, he had wanted to make use of Nishikido Ryo and now all he could come up with was this lackluster, totally uninspiring piece. If he was lucky, he would still have a job after this.


In the bathroom, he let his mind wander as he washed his hair. He was about to reach for his towel when the lights flickered and the whole bathroom was doused in darkness. He thought that the building must be having one of its monthly electricity meltdowns. The faucet was still dripping and he could hear the pipes churning overhead. Odd, he could hear his neighbor going about his usual business upstairs, voices rising and falling. He couldn’t really see in the dark, but he reached his hand out, coming into contact with the tiled wall. There was a little niggling uneasiness settling inside him, after all he had written about too much crime and murder to not know this seemed like the perfect setting for a burglary gone wrong. He thought he heard footsteps, muffled by the ratty carpet; as the darkness held its breath around him. The sound got nearer and nearer, the scuffling of boots in a slow, measured way, and then they stopped. Like the person on the other side of the room was listening, gauging. Fear reverberated in him like the hum of a vibrating fork. And he waited, waited for the doorknob to rattle, waited for the door to open, all the time thinking it was maybe his own flustered imagination. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when the lights came on, he had to blink several times to readjust to the brightness.


He opened the door and looked at his apartment, nothing looked disturbed, and everything looked relatively untouched. The only thing that could be of interest to a burglar was his laptop and the stark white screen stared back at him. He was beginning to think it was a false scare when he saw his bed, the bedsheets neatly turned down the way they were, when he realized the intruder wasn’t a burglar at all. And the only thing he wanted from him was his fear.

--

Nishikido Ryo stepped into the night wind, he needed cigarettes. Or a rush of caffeine to help him make it through the night. He also needed to forget about Uchi Hiroki’s little impromptu visit and the discomforting feeling that Uchi Hiroki was quietly coming to his own conclusion about him. He had worked fine in the last two years, cornered off in his own world of maddening silence and memories. And he had realized that nothing screamed louder than that silence, and that void of empty space murder left behind. There was no finality, no acceptance and no deliverance from the endless self-questioning. In his mind, he had rebuilt so many hypothetical situations, all of them with a better ending than this. One of the scenarios that appeared most often in his mind was that he wasn’t a cop, because he would rather keep his own sister safe than have that badge pinned onto his chest and do such a successful job at keeping all the criminals locked up. The criminals had found him anyway.


On the way to the kombini, he had hitched a ride with a patrol officer on duty working the midnight shift. The car cruised smoothly along the deserted roads, and Ryo wondered whether there were actually people who voluntarily worked the night shift. He did it only because he had no one waiting for him at home, no one who would worry if he didn’t return. The slight drizzle slicked over the windshield, and maybe he stayed overnight because he liked being alone. After being reminded on a daily basis of the perversity people could be capable of, he found loneliness the safest of all.


Suddenly the walkie-talkie crackled over the stagnant silence, and he could hear the operator calling for a vehicle in the vicinity, talking about needing a unit to investigate a break-in. He wasn’t overly concerned, until he heard the address being rattled. The address he had committed to memory that night he was driving aimlessly around the city centre looking for escape. Uchi’s address.


--


He could tell Uchi Hiroki was surprised when he saw him there. Being caught offguard in a moment of vulnerability probably wasn’t part of Uchi Hiroki’s plans. Ryo thought he looked like a fresh college student in his old faded tee and pants. His hair was still damp, with a towel draped around his shoulders. He had looked at the police officer, before his glance settled on Ryo.


“I didn’t realize Detectives investigate break-ins too.” There was none of that defiance and hostility Ryo was expecting, just a slightly tired expression before he tugged on the corner of the towel, like a little habit of comfort.


“What did the burglar take?” The accompanying officer asked and Uchi Hiroki stepped aside, revealing the open hallway to his bedroom. Now, his hands were gripping the towel, bunching it around him as if it was something holding him together.


“It wasn’t a burglary. I just didn’t know what else to call that.” Uchi gestured towards the bedroom, his head slightly averted as though he didn’t want to set his eyes on it again. And there was a vicious blotch bleeding and staining the white bed sheets red.


Uchi sat on the couch, arms wrapped around his knees before Ryo heard his soft voice.


“You don’t really think that’s blood do you?”


“We’ll have to take it back to the lab. Who has keys to your apartment?”


Uchi faltered for a moment before he replied.


“The landlord. I changed my lock a few months ago.” Uchi looked over at the bedroom where the police officer was taking preliminary photos of the scene.


“God, tell me it’s a sick vicious joke.” There was a flare of anger in Uchi’s eyes as he directed his gaze towards Ryo.


“Lots of things start out this way, as sick vicious jokes. And quite frankly I wish I didn’t see you at every crime scene I’m going to.”


Uchi stayed quiet. As Yoko would say, serve him right for choosing to get embroiled with Nishikido Ryo.

--

Two streets away, a man took off his gloves, after he tossed the bucket into a back street garbage dump. It was close but worth it. Pity he couldn’t actually see Uchi Hiroko’s face. Because Uchi Hiroki was getting too close to the truth and he couldn’t have people digging too near the murder two years ago. He needed things to stay the way they are, and this was just a small warning. And if this didn’t work, there’s always more.