title: in this strange city

rating: pg
pairing: leon / count d
summary: he has a way, that count, of getting under leon's skin. so that no matter how far away he is, leon can still feel him there, the brush of unearthly sharp nails and the sweet odor of his skin.
notes: standard disclaimers apply. spoilers for volume 10 of the manga. finished first ten volumes in one sitting and i felt like writing fic. this may not be my best and in the future i may just rewrite it. i promise no such thing as staying in character, though i'd like to point out that i tried.

On a damp and heartless Tuesday, with no regard for time and place, Leon packs all his things into a suitcase and sets off for Tokyo, Japan.


He's been dreaming about it lately, about him. It's been a month and a half since D's gone off to god-knows-where and crime rates, though unfortunate to say, have only gone up. Leon doesn't know if he this should bother him. The wounds have healed. The damage has been done. He is alive and well aware of it.

But he's been dreaming about the pet shop lately. He's been dreaming about D. Scars and scabs and memories of sugar and tea that's sickeningly sweet. He can still smell it sometimes, the incense hanging off the very threads of his clothes. All that's left now is a poorly drawn caricature of himself and D, and it is strange and unbidden, but it unsettles him more than he cares to understand. It doesn't seem like quite the ending he's been hoping.

He passes by the pet shop sometimes, on muggy mornings when the temperature drops about ten degrees. His gut clenches. Something heavy settles in his chest. The paper in his pocket feels heavier than it should. A cool breeze blows through the back alleys of concrete rustic Chinatown, and even if wind chimes whisper in the wind, the pet shop doors remain closed.

He has a way, that Count, of getting under Leon's skin. So that no matter how far away he is, Leon can still feel him there, the brush of unearthly sharp nails and the sweet odor of his skin.


The chief assigns him to a case. It's a big one. They even have people coming down from the BAU to help out. A serial killer is on the loose. They're going to need to profile him.

After doing paperwork longer than he cares to remember, Leon is more than happy to patrol the city streets again. There is still the occasional street punk, the amateur thief, but a case like this makes his blood tingle and it's a feeling he's long since forgotten. It hasn't been awhile but ever since the Count left, things have been different. Things have been... off.

The day they catch the serial killer, Jill lets him cuff the sonuvabitch. He's long haired and his skin is chinesewhite, and the resemblance cuts Leon off guard. When Jill asks Leon what he's waiting for, Leon shakes his head clear of his thoughts and pulls out the handcuffs.

The metal glints against the glare of a streetlamp, and Leon can't help but remember how The Count's eyes used to shimmer too, cat-eyes, sharp and clear and -

"Leon, hey, you okay?"

Somewhere across the world, the doors to a pet shop open, and in the same somewhere, perhaps D's thinking of him too.


It's raining - in shimmering lines like melted glass. Leon's clothes are wet. He trains his gaze across the street. The city he is in is strange, full of light. Cars are passing. The stoplights change. There is a sidewalk that veers sharply to a turn. Right where Leon's line of vision cuts through, The Count stands quiet and unmoving amidst the trickle of people, the frantic push and pull.

"My dearest detective," he says then smiles. He is holding out a hand.

"D," Leon says. The Count's eyes are soft, sadder than Leon's last seen them. He reaches out.

Halfway there, the phone rings.

On a damp and heartless Tuesday, with no regard for time and place, Leon packs all his things into a suitcase and sets off for Tokyo, Japan.


The grace of the kanji is on all the road signs. With his limited knowledge of the language, he winds up in street corners and back alleys. Go wherever the wind takes you, he's heard before, and it's taken him here -where it smells of change and cherry trees. A neo-Chinatown; a place, he's only seen in dreams. When the familiar architecture of a pet shop looms ahead, something in Leon's chest tightens, an old feeling, like the scratch of a matchstick against sandpaper.

"So you never left the business huh," Leon says, and if he were smoking he'd have stubbed his cigarette.
The surprise on The Count's face is worth every sleepless night he's ever had, and if Leon had only known he was this easy to find, he'd have searched for him a month back.

"How did you find me?"

Leon meets his gaze, crosses his arms. "Gut instinct."

"Gut feeling." The Count repeats. He's wearing his flowery oriental dresses again and it shouldn't bother Leon but it does.

"And it lead you here? All the way to Japan?"

Leon shrugs. "Yeah," he says, helpless of the truth. "Yeah it did."

"So what do you intend to do now?" Soft. "Arrest me?"

Leon's mouth opens, closes. No words form.

It's strange, now that Leon thinks about it. He doesn't know why he's here at all.

"I changed you now," he says for a lack of a better thing to say. "I'm still human, nothing I can change about that, but I'm different. It doesn't count for much but you changed me, how I see things."
The wind is picking up. It's starting to rain. Fistfuls of Leon's shirt are getting wet. The gravel under their feet is getting darker.

"Detective," D says.

Leon holds him, doesn't let him finish, and it's gut instinct - another one of those things he knows will be the death of him but something he has to act on in a wave of desperation. D's skin is softer and warmer than he's imagined, and when Leon bends down to kiss him, the taste is sweeter. D's eyelashes brush Leon's cheek. He smells like incense, like sugar.

There are hands in Leon's hair, hands in his shirt.

"It's been awhile, D," Leon whispers. "It's been a little weird without you."