Disclaimer: Saint Seiya The Lost Canvas characters are not mine.
A/N: Short story—Five to six chapters in total. 1940's era. I don't know if the detectives wore gloves but I would imagine that they would have some. I looked at old pictures that I could find on the web, watched directors interpretation of the 1940's, and used L.A. Noire—good game, by the way—as references.
September 3, 1947.
It was an early day in Blue Spring City.
The streets had never been so empty, aside for a few early birds traveling to the country side to work. A few citizens walked on the sidewalk with their jackets pulled close to their throats. Fear had never felt overwhelming as it was the past weeks.
In a twenty-four hour period, three murders had occurred. In the past several weeks, bodies have been found around the city. Blue Spring had its run with crime, low as it was. But it drastically changed when the small city had to face with a loose serial killer.
There were many things that Yato Prince had come to accept in Blue Spring City. Dirty cops and drug dealers were something he could handle. But a serial killer, attacking at night, with no clues to find who he or she was, now that he could not handle.
Well, there is a first for everything, Yato Prince bitterly thought.
He groggily walked away from the witness he questioned, and cursed the killer for the early rise. The purple stain of dawn governed the sky. The morning star, the only one he saw low on the horizon, gradually disappeared in oblivion. He shivered as an early breeze slithered past. Forgetting to put on an extra shirt underneath his uniform, he futilely attempted to pull his jacket closer to his neck to block the morning chill.
Up the hill, he trudged, pushing his legs to climb the steep trail. He found the body near a tree, its leaves now changed into a jaundiced yellow. The wind slithered past once more, rattling the sycamore branches. He saw a leaf fluttered to the ground in a puddle of yellow, and a few brown leaves, that rested around the tree.
He crouched toward the victim and inspected her injuries. There was nothing left to her. He sighed at his failure to protect and serve.
"Another body…" He shook his dark locks. Turning his blue eyes away from the corpse, he lifted a hand and laid it underneath his nose. The stench was overwhelming. "Just our damn luck," he mumbled.
"The numbers keep escalating," a soft, masculine voice said from behind.
Yato turned his head and brought his eyes to stare up toward the detective. He took noticed of his attire—a black fedora hat, a sleek three-piece black suit, and expensive dress shoes contrasted against his white-collar and red-striped tie. As a bonus to his clear wealth, he had immaculate features with blue eyes, blond hair and a pale complexion. Feeling inferior under his gaze, Yato rose on his feet and addressed him with a stern face.
"I hope we catch our killer soon, Detective."
A crease line settled in between his brows. The detective blinked his eyes once and stared at the young officer in front him. Yato felt as if the detective was noticing him for the first time. He received that a lot from his peers. Having a lean physique, a notable of freckles sprinkled across his face, he was hardly dashing as the detective himself. Probably the best feature he carried was his dark, blue eyes.
The detective broke into a smile. Yato restrained his surprise when he discovered the upmost expression of kindness painted on his face. It was a bluff—one that he knew too well when he dealt with detectives like him. But he couldn't find the reek of deceit on the detective. Still he made a convincing show, but it wasn't enough to make Yato Prince a fool to believe in his fake appearance.
"Detective Sisyphus Sterling," the detective greeted.
It was his turn to give a name. But he was star struck at the man in front of him. Sisyphus Sterling—the hero of Blue Spring City who solved the Henderson Case five-years-ago was standing before him. He had barely entered the police division when he had heard of the hardworking detective putting away a madman's hatred toward women. It was the case of the year and no doubt it brought the detective to fame.
His left hand began to shake in fear. Not wanting to make a fool out of himself, he moistened his lips and tried to force back the nervousness in his voice.
"O-O-Officer Yato Prince." He stuttered like a schoolgirl stricken in fear of being in front of her crush. How humiliating. No doubt that smile on his face was restraining the mirth he held.
"Have you spoken to the witness?"
Straight to the point, Yato recovered from his nervousness and easily converted to his professional impassive stance.
"Yes, I have."
He lifted his head toward the witness standing near the police cruiser, staring hollowly at the ground beneath his feet. His partner, Regulus Stuart, stood out-of-place with a comforting smile on his face. He patted the witness twice on his back and spoke endlessly about whatever he found intriguing enough to share with a stranger.
Fresh into the field, the young officer brought his contiguous cheerful demeanor and innocent grin to work. Yato gave him a month before that smile would no longer be on his face. And with it, his cheerfulness would be replaced with an impassive attitude like the others.
The detective followed his eye and noticed his partner. The captain was drunk to have assigned him with Stuart. Feeling slightly embarrassed of his partner's behavior, Yato proceeded to continue with his report, critically essential for the detective to hear. But bfore he began, he couldn't help but notice that the detective had a soft smile on his lips.
And it was directed at Regulus.
Yato kept his thoughts to himself.
"Victim's name is Yuzuriha Crest. From my standpoint, she couldn't fight back."
"Has anyone been informed of her death?"
Yato gave a light cough. "Didn't need to be informed. He already knew." He looked toward the witness for a brief moment. "Witness—Shion Steel—mentioned he received a call at around four in the morning. It seems our killer felt remorse and pinpointed the directions toward the scene."
"I see." The detective wrote the information down in his small pad, his pencil moving fluently to his words.
"He came toward the scene around five and decided to investigate," Yato continued, "Eventually he found the body exactly as it was left. We received the call a little after six. Luckily, the crime scene was close to our division."
The detective lifted his head from his pad and stared at him. "He took an hour to call it in?"
"Seems so." Yato took a side-glance at the witness. "I found it strange too and questioned him. He went nuts; said I was pinning her death on him."
He saved his pad and pencil inside his coat. "Do you know where he works?"
"Didn't say." Yato shrugged. "The guy refused to talk after his little outburst and preferred to stay with my partner." He hesitated for a moment before he reluctantly spoke his mind freely. "If you ask me, he's hiding something. I don't know what but I'm quite positive that he's retaining valuable information to catch the killer."
Another smile, most wholeheartedly given to his keen observation, captured his lips. He felt his heart swell at being recognized for his intellect and observation. However, as fast as his heart soar with pride, it was easily shattered with cool numbness of being put off as wrongly observing the human behavior.
"Don't mistake anger with motive. The man is hurt. That woman was very dear to him."
And it wasn't Sterling that spoke. On the contrary, it was his serious partner that addressed him as he continued labeling his behavior as a child eager to solve the test without studying beforehand. His cheeks blared with a hot intensity of being humiliated in front of Sterling.
"I spoke to the coroner." His partner focused on Sterling.
Yato stood at the side, invisible to their eye. He studied Sterling's partner. Wearing the same attire as his friend, the only difference being that his suit was gray and his tie was navy blue, El Cid Rivers was just like he was written in the newspaper. Cold, with serious features, the man held a high dedication to his line of work and always strove to bring justice to the city.
The citizens respected him; some even admire him; while others were put off with his cold indifference. And Yato didn't blame those that disliked him. He too was beginning to dislike the man in front of him.
Purple eyes settled upon him in an instance. Yato froze at his cold stare and repressed the urge to shudder.
"The media will be arriving soon. Handle it and avoid any topic about the Night Crawler's latest victim."
Once he finished giving orders, Detective Rivers turned away and focused on the crime scene. Sisyphus followed behind him. Not a single word of thanks was given to Officer Prince and his soon-to-be-efforts to keep the media at bay. No matter. That was the detectives of Blue Spring. Prideful son-of-bitches looking down at the lower ranking of the police force.
Yato wanted to spit at their faces. It was a childish thought, he knew. But it made him angry that his hard-work was stomped on by egocentric detectives. For a moment, he almost bought that Sterling was different from the rest. His mistake of assuming he would be the one to actually give him a pat on the back for his hard labor.
As the detectives focus on the crime scene, he faded into the background (as he always did) and headed down the hill. The media began to arrive to the scene. He prided himself in his work and mentally patted his back. Because unlike the detectives in Blue Spring, he didn't have his name printed on every newspaper in the city when a case was solved. Nope, instead, he merely had the congratulations from his wife and dog at home—and nothing else mattered without their gratification.