A/N: I know, I know. I need to update OFBoL and THCS, but I've had this poor plot bunny stuffed in my drawer for long enough. I realize I'm skipping the Pegasus arc and what little I'm doing of the Pure Hearts and Sailor Stars arcs, but this has been holding me longer. And since it merges and is heavily a part of the Prince Diamond arc, I figure I should start on this one first.
That said, I should give y'all a few pointers. This IS Crystal Tokyo and Neo-Queen Serenity and Neo-King Endymion rule with the Sailor Senshi as their advisors. After the Great Sleep which happened due a sudden Ice Age that killed nearly two thirds of the Earths population, Neo-Queen Serenity and her consort appeared. They banished the Ice Age thus waking the sleeps who had managed to survive the incubation. They gathered as many people as they could to their city of Crystal Tokyo which is now the world capital. Intelligence agencies from all over the world have banned together to serve the Queen as loyaly as they can. Every now and then they butt heads, but that's only to be expected.
The true past and goings-on of the Sailor Senshi during the early 21st century is now taught in every school and is common knowledge. Thus, the Shitennou are widely accepted as bad guys, even though Neo-King Endymion disagrees and argues that they were brainwashed. Some radical extremists would stop at nothing to be sure nothing happens to their Queen. They call themselves the Watchers because they Watch for the enemy. They are geberally disliked by society due to their radical beliefs and doings, but their basic motives, protect the Queen, are held in general concensous.
The people of the Black Moon have inflitrated society secretly. They don't do anything other than watch and learn, until one decides to step out of line. After all, Emerade is only woman after all. A woman with a weakness for white haired young men.
A Heart of Crystal
The day was cool. The sky a crystal clear blue. The sunlight sparkled off the surface of the fountain in the park. A perfect day. Except for one, small thing.
There was no such thing as perfect.
Saitou had learned that the hard way. Literally. It was hard enough being Arabian by descent, but add to that the fact that he could speak several languages fluently, could handle himself in almost any type of combat, could calculate an enemies move before they even did it, and was the boss of a rather well known mob group, and you had the reason for his belief in imperfection.
He didn't believe in perfection because he knew it was impossible. To be perfect was to have no flaw. There was no such thing as flawlessness. He had yet to come across the perfect plan, the perfect setup, the perfect jewel, the perfect person, nothing. Life was a parody. A perfect parody of perfection.
He snorted disdainfully at his ironic joke, then sighed in quiet resignation. He was young, but not too young. He knew the ways and workings of society as well as an old gossip, but he preferred to have spies and informers nonetheless. Never hurt to be too careful after all. There was always the chance of having a turncoat.
But now was not the time to dwell on such things. He was here to meet someone. Someone who, if they didn't show their face in another minute, would never see him.
Inhaling a deep breath of the fresh, flower perfumed air Saitou tucked his long, slender hands in his pockets, crossed his legs, and leaned back against the bench. The perfect image of relaxation. But then, perfection was a myth, wasn't it?
Footsteps of passersby and visitors made their way to and fro as Saitou silently counted down the seconds. He was on fourteen when he was interrupted by the feeling of someone sitting next to him on the bench. When no voice was heard, the mob boss smirked, eyes still closed against the sun's light.
"Well, well. If it isn't Detective Frost. And what, may I ask, are you doing here this fine day?"
The detective straightened his jacket and replied tersely, "Cut the crap, Saitou. You know why I'm here."
"Do I?" a gentle, baritone replied accompanied by an arching eyebrow and a half open eye.
"We want information."
Saitou nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I figured that. I am the, how do you say, 'turn to' person when it comes to things like this. Congratulates on your promotion, by the way."
"Thank you. Nikita Otsu. What do you know about him?" the cop asked, cutting to the chase.
Sighing, Saitou sat up and took the offered photograph. The image showed a middle aged man, black hair, and brown eyes. Nothing unusual about him, unless you knew him. Which Saitou did.
"He's a petty thief and small time safe cracker. Nothing too serious, of course, but still. He's rather handy with a hatchet I hear."
The detective rolled his eyes. Saitou always enjoyed this little game of cat-and-mouse they played whenever they spoke like this. "Come on, Kun. You gotta give me more than that. You monitor the crime in this city better than we do, for crying out loud. Just tell me what you know," the cop all but begged.
The young mob boss debated a brief moment on whether or not to continue with his game or to have mercy. One look at the cop told him all he needed to know. Purple bags lined the man's eyes, and, judging from the slight tremor of the man's hands, he had been surviving on coffee for a while now.
"I can do better than that. I can give him to you." The cop's back suddenly went ramrod straight and he stared at Saitou as if trying to read his soul. Good luck with that, Saitou thought dully. "On the understanding that you give me something in return, of course," Saitou continued, holding up a hand to forestall any comments.
The detective hesitated a moment before nodding. "What do you want?" he asked carefully.
"Nothing you can't give," the youth answered blithely. Then his eyes narrowed and he became serious. "I want you to find out who's trying to kill me," he stately bluntly.
That gave the detective pause. "What do you mean? Who's trying to kill you?"
"That's what I need you to help me find out. I'm used to the casual attempt on my life every now and then, but these last fewer have come much too close to succeeding for my comfort."
"Alright, we'll do what we can on our end. What's the MO? Or is there such a thing in this line of work?" the cop asked intently.
Saitou shook his head, silver strands falling into his face, a stark contrast to his tan skin. "I'm not sure. However it is doesn't seem to have a particular preference to any specific method. I've been poisoned, thank heavens I'm familiar with the smell of cyanide, I've been shot at, and I've nearly been stabbed. The only pattern would seem to be that I'm relatively alone when the attacks take place.
"But where are my manners? We were speaking of a trade, were we not? How about here, by this fountain, at noon tomorrow? Sound like a deal?"
"Thank you," the cop answered, shaking the mobster's hand. "And I'll tell if we find anything."
"I am grateful. May the Queen guide your path, Jack Frost," Saitou replied, bowing deeply.
"Yours as well. See you later Ice King," 'Jack' Frost said, before turning on his heel and striding back to the all-but-completely-obvious tan, unmarked van.
Unable to hold back, Saitou called out, "Oh, by the way, give my regards to those cops who were listening in on our conversation, would you?"
Frost turned back and flashed a resigned smile at the mobster who nodded and set about putting his sunglasses back on and they parted ways.
Such was life. Meeting and parting ways.
Sighing comfortably, Saitou tightened his long, black leather jacket, checked his sidearm, and strode off to his motorcycle. His hand fished out his wallet as he put on his helmet and his eyes darted back and forth. He'd learned from experience that, while true, crowds often put a dampener on violence that by no means meant that it stopped it completely. He was always on his guard.
Starting the engine with a brief touch of his hand on the power crystal, the mobster checked the time. It was only 1:30 in the afternoon. Plenty of time to stop at a restaurant and get something to eat before heading over to Masato's. He'd need the energy to deal with the businessman.
Starting off, Saitou's thoughts raced in his head. He was nervous. Something about these latest attempt on his life bothered him. They had come within an incredibly thin margin of killing him. He already had a thing, ropey scar on his upper left shoulder where a quick jerk to the side had saved his life from a rather sharp knife.
He didn't want to believe it, but he was almost certain there was a traitor in his circle. The problem was figuring out who before they got to him. Not an easy task, but maybe with the police's support, things would go faster. And, Queen willing, the assassin would be caught. Of course, that's if everything worked perfectly, which it never did.
Spotting a small café on the corner, Saitou pulled over and parked his bike in an open parking spot, ignoring the furious honks of a driver he'd cut off to get it. Locking the bike and arming the alarm, he strode through the gate and onto the patio, removing his helmet as he went. He looked about for a comfortable place to sit and chose a small, two-seater table shaded by an umbrella blossoming from a hole in the middle of the table. Taking a menu, he made himself comfortable. He wasn't much of a hot chocolate person, or coffee person for that matter, but he needed the caffeine. So when the waiter came, he started to place his order when he actually looked at the young server.
Long, copper hair tumbled down the boy's back in a simple ponytail. A light dusting of pink colored the young man's cheeks ever so gently. Slender, almost girlish hands held a pen and paper ready in front of a thin, equally slender chest. But it was the eyes that held him entranced. Glittering eyes the color of the purest jade he'd ever seen, stared back at him.
Catching himself before he fell too deep in those beautiful depths, Saitou cleared his throat. "I'll have coffee, black, and a cranberry bagel, please."
"Um, would you like anything with that? Cream cheese? Butter?" asked the equally flustered boy.
"No, no thank you." When the young man turned to go, a part of Saitou screamed at him to stop him. "Wait!"
Shyly, the youth turned back. "Yes sir?"
Again, Saitou had to blink to keep from losing himself in those lovely green eyes. "What's your name?"
The youth's face brightened. "Uh, Taitou. Taitou Izou. And yours…sir?"
"Saitou Kun. Are you free later tonight?" He couldn't help it. It slipped out before he could stop it. He crossed his fingers in blind hope.
The youth visibly wilted. "I work the evening shift. I don't get off till ten."
"That's fine. How bout I take you to dinner?"
"I'd love to. Although…"
"Don't worry. I'll pick you up. Should I drop you back here, or-"
"You can drop me here. I don't live far." A smile had made itself know on the sky, blushing boy's face.
"I look forward to it. As I look forward to my coffee."
Another bright blush and the youth darted off to retrieve his order.
Well now. He'd learned something new. Apparently, there was such a thing as perfection in the world. It was called Taitou Izou.
A/N: Well, I hope that was worth the awful wait I've put y'all through. Now I must go to sleep in order to be read (HA!) for my Japanese exam tomorrow, and the snowpocolyps that's predicted for the day after. Hopefully that'll mean classes are ancelled and I'll update some more. ;)
In the meantime, however: Rate and Review! ;)