This one shot is a dedicated exclusively to the maker of marvels, worker of wunderkinds, and producer of phenomena, the beautiful raiu2112, who has been having a bad time a little longer than recently so you should all go read her stuff. No seriously, if you have a heart at all I would shoot over to her account right now and leave a comment. I'm not joking guys.

This is a short cheesy mystery because there is nothing like one of those to take your mind of the horribleness of life for a few exclusive minutes. Also, I'm sorry this is a day, now that I'm on summer break I can't use the school laptop so am thus stuck with this 10+ years dinosaur which is technically mine but which my sister steals every time my parents kick her off the desktop computer. Really literally all she does is tumblr ALL FRICKIN' DAY. Literally she gets up at 7 until my parents kick her off at 10 and then she goes on my laptop which she has somehow kept hidden away in her room all day. It results in things like me being responsible for maintaining the house and making sure the two of us have necessities like food and hygiene products. (At this moment she's throwing a fit because every time she slams the door it bounces back at her. It's just, really, is there nothing else you could find to complain about?! The crying and shouting I can deal with but my antique tea cups are on a shelf on the other side of that wall and the rattling is getting me worried. Great, I'm rambling.)So anyways, the actual action of going on a computer to type anything is near impossible these days. Thank god for internet phones.

In an attempt to make this the best mystery I could, I wrote about what I knew. Give me a break, it's my first mystery.

Premise: Akihiko is an antique dealer in London who was disowned by his family. Misaki is a former run away taken in by Akihiko.

The bell above the door jingled causing Misaki to look up from behind the counter of the small antique store.

"Hello, welcome to—"

"Take it!


"TAKE IT!" And with that, the man thrust a brown paper parcel over the counter and into Misaki's bewildered arms. Luckily he managed to catch the package before it fell to the ground, but the distraction was exactly what the stranger needed and before Misaki could blink the man was out the door and across the street. Emerald eyes located the man's figure just in time to watch it disappear around a corner before dropping down to the parcel held in his grasp.

Another pair of arms it seemed had taken that opportunity to slip themselves around the teens sides and along the hem of his trousers, fingertips lightly gliding beneath the hem of his t-shirt and over his exposed skin.

"What's in the package?"



"Get off me!"



"No." Cool fingers had managed to slip themselves under the brunette's waistband and into his underwear.

"Usagisan, stop it! We're still open."

"I'll make you open."



"If that was supposed to be a pun, it was a horrible one and you know it. What are you, fourteen?"

Sulking the elder pulled his hands away from their treasure hunt in favor of cradling the bruise that would undoubtable form after that sharp elbow his younger lover had administered to his ribs. With a huff Misaki planted himself on the wheelie chair in front of the cash register. With a hand on the glass showcase that served as their counter he pulled himself over to in front of the package. Luckily it hadn't dropped too far when he had let go from the shock of feeling Akihiko's cool fingers against his hip bone. It had though knocked over the belleek vase they used to hold pens. Of course, being just the slightest bit OCD, Misaki had to replace everything in its proper order before even thinking about opening the package.

"You still haven't told me what the package is." Akihiko refused to admit that he was sulking after the harsh rebuff. He also refused to admit that he was intentionally speaking in a tone he knew Misaki thought of as annoying, just so that he could have his revenge. No, of course not, such things were below him.

"That's because I have as much of an idea as you do."

"Don't you think we should open it then?"

"I'm getting to it, just wait a sec'." Akihiko managed to resist counting one second out loud, if only to prove that Misaki's claims of him being at the mental age of fourteen were entirely unfounded.

Eventually all the pens were back in the vase and Misaki turned his attention to the parcel. A length of dirty twine had been tied around it in an impossibly tangled knot. Using a pair of scissors he cut away the brown paper and string together, allowing everything to fall away before speaking.

"Why, it's nothing but an old bisque doll." This is exactly what it was. Reaching out with both hands, Misaki held it under the light from a nearby tiffany lamp. He turned it over and inspected its naked, filthy state. Only a few strands of stringy, twisted hair still hung off its wig, and its skin seem to have taken on an additional thick coating of filth and grim to add to the matte finish. No clothes hung from its cracked frame allowing Misaki to see that it's joints at least were in proper working order, if one ignored the fact that they were more than a little chipped. Turning it back over, Misaki observed that the doll was missing an eye. Behind him Akihiko let out a low whistle.

"That's a Bébé Jumeau. And a very old one too."

"A what now?"

"A Bébé Jumeau. A collection of bisque dolls created by Emile Jumeau that first came out in 1877. Pity it didn't come with its wardrobe."

"Or it's other eye."

"Yes that to, but its clothes are more important, after all they are what Jumeau is famous for. Now give it here." Hesitantly Misaki looked from his lover's outstretched, clean hand, to the filthy doll and then back again. He kept the general belief that he should always be the one to keep his older lover away from things like dirt and filth. It was one of the reasons their antique shop was so clean. The very idea of Akihiko handling something so dirty repulsed him slightly be seeing the expectant look in those knowing, lavender eyes he finally conceded. With a sigh he handed it over. Rotating it a few times in the light himself, the man seemed to come to a decision.

"I was right. Fifty-six centimeters, and easily pre-1900. I can fix her up and we would get at the very least 5k for her. More if we dressed her up first. When's the next auction?"

"A month from now. Are you serious though, five thousand! What kind of loony just leaves something like that here and runs off?"

"How should I know? Come now Misaki, let's not look this gift horse in the mouth. Why don't you close down the shop? I'd say we've made out profit for the day."

"Y-yeah." Emerald eye's shot to the window, framed on one side by a display of old bone china tea cups and the other by a recently acquired bureau. The street beyond was empty. Still though he could not shake off the feeling of foreboding that had suddenly begun creeping its way up his spine. Deciding it was nothing he stepped around a pile of old newspapers, a child's rocking horse, and a basket of embroidered table linens before flipping the sign on the door. Still, he made sure to check that the door wasn't loose or coming off its hinges once he had locked it. One could never be too careful. Just last month Akihiko had bought an upright piano and as the movers had been carrying it in, one had tripped over a patch of uneven sidewalk and the piano had crashed against the door frame. Of course the moving company had paid for the damages to both piano and door, but for part of that night Misaki had been unable to lock up the shop. This feeling was the same that he had experienced then, as he had stood guard in a chair by the door, knowing that there was nothing but a space of a few feet between him and the dark silence of the night, with nothing between to protect one from whatever lay out there, ready to pounce. At times like these he could never hope to express in words just how grateful he was to his rabbit for being there for him.

Misaki shivered as he turned away from the door and made his way through the shop towards the back room. He could hear Akihiko moving around, presumably setting out the tools required to fix the doll on his work bench. His footsteps quickened as the feeling of dread increased and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to be near his other half.

"Misaki? What's the matter?" The sound of heavy breathing alerted the man to the presence of his tenant and looking up he took in the wide eyed, deathly pale teenager. For a second, he too almost panicked. Something had scared Misaki. His Misaki. Something had scared his Misaki. For a second he was split between grabbing a rapier off the wall and massacring whatever had frightened his beloved or throwing himself at the teen in order the pull the terrified boy into the protection of his embrace. In the end he chose option two, save that he calmly walked across the room instead of lunge. Misaki was already frightened; he didn't need a full grown man hurtling towards him.

"Nothings the matter Usagisan. I'm fine." A shaky laugh escaped thin, blood drained lips as the brunette attempted to give his lover a smile. The other of course was not fooled.


"No honestly, I'm fine." Crossing his arms, Akihiko stared into wide verdant eyes. Eventually it proved too much for the shorter man and he caved. "I just…um…have a bad feeling. It's silly actually. Nothing to worry about. Really." Before he could blink he found himself experiencing a split-second of weightlessness before being cradled against a broad chest. Akihiko had somehow swept him up and was currently holding him with one arm hooked beneath his knees while the other gripped behind his shoulder as the man buried his face into the younger's neck. Despite the fact that he could feel his face heating up, Misaki did not protest and instead chose to bury his own face into the unbuttoned collar of his silver haired lover. Inhaling the calming scent of cigarettes and lavender soap he felt his body relax. This was what he needed right now.

"It's not silly. You know what your bad feelings are like."

"Forget about it Usagisan. It's probably nothing. Tomorrow I'm going to burn breakfast, or break a vase or something. In all likelihood I'm just tired and it's making me a little paranoid." Akihiko drew his face away in order to fix the other with a skeptical look.

"Come to think of it, it is past your bed time." Misaki's cheeks puffed out in a pout.

"Usagisan, I'm nineteen, I don't have a bed time. If fact, I don't think I've ever had a bed time."

"Well you do now. So go to bed." Without letting the teen go Akihiko began to ascend the stairs towards their apartment above the shop.

"This isn't going to be permanent is it?" Misaki's tone was halfway between hopeful and sarcastic.


"Humming does not count as an answer."


"Bloody git." The pout was back as Misaki turned his face away to glare angrily at the floorboards disappearing beneath Akihiko's feet. Eventually they came to the door of Akihiko's bedroom which was quickly pushed aside so that they could enter. Misaki had long since grown used to it and did not comment on the fact that his room was still further down the hall and that Akihiko had no right to just assume that Misaki as fine with sleeping in his bed. Not that he wasn't…but that was beside the point.

Gently Akihiko laid his lover down as if he were the one made out of bisque porcelain. To tell the truth, it kind of annoyed Misaki, he was a man after all, not some girl, but it was better than being thrown onto the mattress, like Akihiko was apt to do when the mood came upon him. Or at least more of the mood, sometimes it seemed the man was in a perpetual state of horniness, something which said victim to said horniness found to be not only rather annoying but also inconvenient.

The sheets were soft beneath his cheek and Misaki snuggled under them, relaxing at the heavenly feel of the pillow beneath his exhausted head. He was whipped out, and the uneasy feeling had not gone away, not to mention he had a head ache. At the moment nothing, repeat nothing, was better than the cushioning of the bed beneath his weary frame. Something of this must have shone on his face because Akihiko did not attempt any advances towards his, settling for a mere shedding of Misaki's trousers in order to make the younger more comfortable. The brunette managed to give his lover a weary smile before sleep overcame him and eyelids slid down over leafy pupils. Lavender eyes watched the relaxed face and slow breathing of their partner before turning away in order to prepare themselves for sleep.

It was times like these when watching Misaki, his favorite hobby, became painful. The boy was too vulnerable, too young, too small, and too innocent. Facts that were obvious during the day became even clearer at night when the younger's guard was dropped so completely.

Akihiko lowered himself onto the bed before pulling Misaki's limp frame into his arms. Pulling the covers up and making sure they were tucked tightly around the slender teen Akihiko laid himself half on, half off the other's body. He knew Misaki didn't sleep well unless he could feel the definite weight of his lover on top of him but Akihiko still refused to sleep covering the boy entirely, much to Misaki's chagrin. The teen's safety from asphyxiation was much more important than the teen's comfort, at least according to Akihiko, so they had come up with this compromise and now the elder doubted either of them could sleep in any other position. Smiling wryly he reached over and switched of the bed side lamp, plunging them both into darkness before pulling Misaki closer and finally closing his eyes to sleep.


Emerald eyes flew open and Misaki shot up, his chest heaving as he struggled to draw breath into his suddenly too tight chest. Something was wrong, horribly horribly wrong.

He whipped his head around, looking to find what it was that had caused him to awake. The room was silent save for his heavy breathing. Silent? No wait, he could hear his Usagisan's soft breathing beside him. The sound relaxes his tight frame slightly and he turns to look at his lover. Silver hair creates a halo on the mauve sheets. This combines with the almost unearthly glow of the man's pale skin from the small sliver of moonlight which shone down through a crack in the blind and caressed his lover's face made Misaki think, just for split second, that an archangel had descended from heaven and replaced his lover beside him. After shaking the silly thought away Misaki frowned, noticing for the first time that Akihiko is not sleeping on top of him. Maybe that was what had woken him.

Probably. It was a known fact between the couple that Misaki couldn't sleep unless he knew for certain that his rabbit was there with him even when he was in the deepest of sleeps. He wonders what caused Akihiko to move away from him. Well not entirely away, the man's arm was still tightly wrapped around his hips. Reaching out Misaki laid one trembling hand upon the other's exposed cheek. Trembling because something was still wrong and it terrified him.

If Misaki hadn't been holding his breath he would never have heard it, the soft tinkle of glass, quiet enough to be swallowed in the expanse of their home. But hear it he did and for a few seconds he forgot how to breathe. The trembling in his limbs increased but biting his lip he managed to steal himself and ever so slowly climb over his lover in order to reach the ground. Akihiko always insisted on sleeping on the side closest to the door, and it was times like these when Misaki found it most inconvenient.

The floorboards were ice beneath his vulnerable toes but that wasn't what made him freeze. Down stairs, someone had knocked against the Edison phonograph, the one that always let loose at least a few notes at the slightest touch to its crank. Squeezing his eyes shut Misaki drew in a shaky breath before slipping from the bed. He shot another look at his lover only to find that Akihiko's face at this angle was impossible to see due to the folds of their comforter.

The journey across the room was surprisingly easy. Once he had resolved to go down, the actually action itself came readily. Long ago he had memorized the placement of the eternal sprawl of Akihiko's toys across the floor making it so that he didn't have to think twice before wrapping his fingers around the door knob and exiting into the hall.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who you ask, Akihiko had also memorized the layout of the room and Misaki had no warning before a cold hand descended on his shoulder and another had clamped over his mouth. His mind went blank as he began to thrash, kick and bite his way free from his assailant.

"Misaki…Misaki!" The arm on his shoulder wound around his torso effectively restraining his arms and pulling him flush against a familiar chest. But the action was no longer needed. The words whispered into his ear had immediately relaxed him and with a shaky sigh of relief he leaned back against the broad chest pressed tightly to his spine. Realizing that the panic had subsided the hand on his mouth moved up and slender fingers threaded through his messy chocolate bed-head while the other glided down his arm until it came to his hand and the younger allowed their fingers to weave together before tightening. He could still feel his hands shaking, though the touch of Akihiko seemed to sooth the tremors significantly.

"Why are you up?" Cool breath tickled the shell of his ear as the silver-haired man pressed his chin to the younger's shoulder.

"S-someone's downstairs." Through his back Misaki felt the other tense as his senses immediately went on guard. The warmth of the body behind him disappeared as fingers gripped his in a strangling hold and he was guided behind the larger mass of his boyfriend.

"Say behind me." Misaki's fingers tightening around his was the only response Akihiko got as they silently made their way down the hallway, then the staircase, the both of them expertly avoiding every creaking floorboard and hazardously placed pile of books, or maps, or other dark shape, which to Misaki, who gazed at them with no light but that provided by the moon, were much to ominous looking to be healthy.

The staircase down to the ground floor was the original wrought iron spiral one that had been installed in the building when it was first build almost 150 years ago. Relevant information only because, Akihiko realized, at every turn Misaki would at some point would be unprotected behind him. It seemed though that the intruders had not yet made it into the back store room and by making their way down on quick, carefully placed feet, the risk passed.

At the bottom of the stairs they both ducked behind a short wall of crates as the beam of a torch swept over the area which they had been standing just seconds before. A figure stood in the doorway his features invisible to them behind the light. A clatter came from the front of the shop which Misaki recognized as the stupid plastic 1950's umbrella stands that nobody would buy, falling over. Again. The figure in the doorway pivoted.

"You idiot, watch where you're going." The man in the doorway hissed in thick brogue, his voice rattling in his chest like that of a heavy smoker.

"Lay off, like I was supposed to know this place would be so messy." If the situation had been any less tense Misaki would have felt offended at the other's words. Beside him he felt Akihiko reach up and give him a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.

"Quit complaining you ninny and get over here." There was a shuffle and a second beam of light joined the first.

Both men advance into the room, their footsteps slow and cautious as their torches lite up the boxes lining the walls.

"Have you found it yet?"

"Does it look like I've found it dipshit?"


"Then keep looking!" The men separated, moving clumsily around the room as they resumed their search. The two were as different in proportions as the two antique shop's duo, the difference though being in not height but bulk. The louder on, clearly Irish from his accent, has heavy set, with wide shoulders and a broad back, but he hunched forwards, as though used to carrying heavy loads, the other was thin, almost as thin as sign post, Misaki mused, and he walked with his back straight and his big ears sticking out, reminding the teen of a gopher popping out of his hole to look around. As their searched progressed though, the smaller man's shoulders began to gradually rise and in no time his posture had shrunk into itself as the burglar began to chew fervently on his thumb nail.

"Are you sure he left it here?"

"We saw him come in here with a package and leave without one. What do you think?"

"Right, sorry." Misaki finally managed to tear his eyes away from the burglars' lumbered forms as he felt something soft press into his side. Through the darkness he was just able to make out Akihiko trying to give him what looked like a large white cloth. Taking it he observed the other jerk his head towards the two and he realized what his lover wanted him to do.

Silently, dodging around stacked crates and ducking behind an old singer he approached he two, all the while counting his lucky stars the strangers were standing so close together. Behind him he knew Akihiko was following close. He really couldn't say how he knew, the giant rabbit made as much noise as a cat treading across the floor. He was there though, Misaki was certain. He could feel it.




The large white tablecloth settled over the two men covering them practically from head to toe. All pretense of stealth was dropped by the two as loud curses and thumps came from beneath the cloth. They didn't last long though, it seemed one of them had brought a knife and had the sensibility to use it. Misaki flinched at the sound of tearing cloth. That was not just some everyday tablecloth Akihiko had used.

Speaking of the silver haired man Misaki turned to observe his lover standing tall, his feet set wide and his body tense as he held steady a brightly polished katana, ready to slash at a moment's notice. In the back of his mind Misaki register it as the old world war two katana some widow had brought into their shop last month, but the distracting memory was quickly cast aside. His part in the plan was done and it was his turn to hide as Akihiko confronted the intruders.

Yeah, like he could do that.

To his right stood a genuine Victorian croquet set and if there was one thing Misaki knew about the Victorians it was that they made things to last. Reaching out he grabbed the mallet and held it in front of him. Really, as if he could let Usagi face danger alone.

"Alright, whose the asshat who thought that was a fucking good idea?" The taller of the two men wheeled around to face the couple while he partner continued to struggle with the cloth. He still had the knife in his hand and briefly all three pairs of eyes traveled from the glistening edge of Akihiko's katana to the rather lacking blade of the man's knife. Indecision flickered in the man's eyes before he seemed to decide that surprise would give him the greatest advantage and lunged.

"Bloody hell!"

The two antiquers made quick work of the attack, Akihiko's expert block turned disarm and Misaki's blow to the man's gut with the heavy end of the croquet mallet managed to reduce the danger to a minimum. The tall man tumbled backwards onto his partner sending them both sprawling to the floor.

With a nimbleness belonging to a man half his size the assailant jumped up once more and taking a hold of the other's forearm, dragged the skinny one up.

"Paul, what are you—?"

"Shut up dipshit, we're getting out of here."

"W-what? But—" With another tug Paul dragged his captive hurriedly out of the shop, the two owners making no move to stop him.

The minute the sound of footsteps faded away to nothing all adrenaline left Misaki's body and with a sudden exhalation of breath his knees collapsed and would have made a rather painful acquaintance with the floor if Akihiko hadn't quickly dropped the sword and caught the boy up in both arms.

For a while the two just stood there, silently clinging onto each other as they waited for their racing hearts to slow and their rapid breathing to regain its usual steady rhythm. Eventually Misaki felt he could speak without stuttering.

"I'll go put the kettle on." This elicited a chuckled from the larger man. Reaching up Akihiko smoothed Misaki's messy bedhead away from his face before planting a kiss on the teen's forehead.

"We were just about made into sashimi by some criminal and your first reaction is to make tea? And here I thought I was the one who was half British."

"What, are you saying you don't want some?" The brunette's features rearranged themselves into a pout, not that the elder could see it, it was too dark in the room. That didn't however mean he didn't know it was there.

"As if I were physically able to pass up the opportunity for some of your tea."

"I could always retract the offer, that is, if you find yourself too overcome with temptation."

"Heaven forbid."

"Stop complaining then."

"What complaining? Was I complaining? I was merely commenting on the symptoms you seem to be experiencing after living with your half English landlord."

"This wouldn't happen to be the same landlord who dislikes sugar cubes with a fiery burning passion would it? Because that landlord is going to be getting at least five of those if he doesn't shut up."

The rest of the walk to the kitchen was silent.


The newspaper was slapped down harshly onto the dining table, narrowly avoiding Akihiko's coffee pot.

"Oi!" The previously relaxing man wrapped a protective hand around the life giving substance. Misaki scoffed.

"The life span of your third pot of coffee is not important right now. Just look at the bleedin' headline!" Shooting a suspicious look at his lover and coming to the decision that his beverage was no longer in jeopardy Akihiko used the hand previously wrapped around the French press to reach for the newspaper.


Was the pressure to much?'

Lavender eyes looked at the headline from beneath disinterested lids.

"So? Young people are offing themselves at the same time." Before he could blink Misaki had the newspaper out of his hands and rolled up. No time was given for him to defend himself from the sharp rap to his skull.

"Ok, first of all, don't say such heart less things, and second look at the bloke's picture." The paper was promptly unrolled and shoved into the elder's face. Akihiko could have sworn he went cross eyed for a second trying to focus on the colored picture situated half an inch from his pupils. Deciding to take matters into his own hands he pulls the paper away before squinting at the picture. He really needed to find out where he had left his reading glasses last night.

"Alright, I'm looking at it. What exactly am I looking for again?"

"He's the bloke."

"He's the bloke what?"

"The bloke who dropped off that doll yesterday." Interest immediately sparked in Akihiko's eyes.

"You don't say."

"What, don't you believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you all right. Is it just me or do you get the feeling those two men from last night have something to do with this?"

"Good, you're finally getting it."

"You don't think maybe he had more dolls like that hanging around his stuff."

"Ok, maybe you're not getting it." Misaki sat down next to Akihiko and began to spread jam over a muffin. His landlord continued to peruse the newspaper.



"There's something else you wanted to say to me isn't there."

"Maybe." Akihiko sighed but otherwise didn't comment. Misaki wanted something from him and he knew it was going to take a while for the teen to build up the courage to ask. The elder knew it was best not to interrupt at these times or Misaki would never speak.

"Usagisan, do you think we could go down to the police station and tell them about the doll." The silver haired man took a moment to mule it over so as to let Misaki know he was seriously considering.

"Yes, I think we should."


"Miyagi." A black haired man looked up at the intern with tired bloodshot eyes. Briefly, as he put out his cigarette into the already overflowing ashtray, he contemplated ignoring the sandy haired teen; just dropping his head on the desk and diving into dream land. Unfortunately the intern had a different idea.

"Miyagi!" The name was followed by swift kick to the other's office chair. Said man groaned before letting out a whine.

"Shinobu-chin, I told you to call me inspector."

"Yeah right old man." The police inspector sighed.

"Is there a reason you called me?"

"Do I need a reason?" A sly look came into the intern's eyes.

"When we're at work, yes." Miyagi knew what Shinobu was fishing for and quickly chose to cut the line. Such things could be saved for later, when they were alone in his apartment. After a long nap.

"Fine, there's someone down at the reception area claiming that they have info in that bloke who committed suicide last night." The black haired man removed his glasses in favor of running a hand down his tired face.

"Shinobu, we closed that case hours ago, just make them go away."

"Can't. One of the men is an Usami." Miyagi groaned before replacing his glasses.

"Let them in. I'll talk to them, but after that we're going home. I have been up for 48 hours and I refuse to work for another 24." A smirk spread across the sandy haired teens face.

"I appreciate your use of the pronoun we."

"Shut up Shinobu. As soon as I get home I'm going to bed."

"Don't you mean, 'we're going to bed'?"

"Just get the men, otherwise I'll make sure that we won't be going to bed for the next two days." The elder couldn't help but chuckle at the adorable pout coupling the even more adorable glare that decorated his intern's face as he left the room.


"So you're saying that hours before our victim died he came into you're shop and left this on the counter before rushing out? And then half an hour before his death two men broke into your shop looking for this same doll?"

"That is correct officer."

"Well I can see why you think this would have something to do with his suicide." Miyagi leaned back in his office chair, his fingers interlaced over his firm stomach. Across the desk from him sat the youngest Usami, his arms crossed over his chest and a firm glare set over fair features. Next to the man sat a petite teenage boy, his sized dwarfed from being near the other man. Miyagi gazed curiously at this teen. Not only was he short and slender but his hair was in need of a good trimming and his eyes were a little too wide. The overall look gave Miyagi the impression of a stray kitten caught in the headlights or a recently victim in a child abuse case. Underfed and terrified. The inspector could see that his clothes were expensive and well made, and he looked clean, like he had showered just hours before, but the ragged, unkept look of his hair and the wild fearful eyes gave him an altogether fraying around the edges appearance. The black haired man recognized the look from kids who had just come off the street, and concluded that it was most likely where he had grown up, and in the process had learned to avoid policemen and everything to do with the law.

It took less than a second for Akihiko to realize that the cop was seizing up his Misaki. And even less time after that for him to recognize the tense state of Misaki's posture. The teen had balled his hands into fists against his jeans, and his thigh muscles were taunt, ready to bolt at the smallest sign of danger. Akihiko gritted his teeth. This would not do at all. Misaki had been the one to request going to the police. That in itself was a sign of improvement from the mentality he had maintained while living on the streets. If anything went wrong while they were here, it would be a huge set back. Under the cover of needing to adjust himself in his seat Akihiko scooted himself closer to his lover until their legs were pressed together. Not enough to be noticeable but enough for Misaki to know he was there. At the same time he forced himself to relax his own tense posture, knowing Misaki would use him at times like these as a model for how to react to the situation. The action proved its worth as he felt Misaki's posture relax and his fingers uncurl in favor of being placed, though still somewhat tensely, on his jean clad thighs. It did not pass over Akihiko that the last two fingers of the brunette's hand were pressing into his leg.

The adjustment was not missed by Miyagi and with the action an understanding came over him. These two in front of him were together in the same way he and Shinobu were. Well at least that solved the mystery of what a street gypsy was going with someone from the powerful Usami family. Behind him he felt Shinobu shift, jolting him back to reality as he remembered why the two were here.

"I'm sorry gentlemen but I know what you are thinking, and no, it was not a murder. There were no signs of a struggle, the rope the victim was hung with show consistency with those used in suicides, not murders. Sadly, the victim did not die instantly of a broken neck, but rather hung there for half an hour before finally dying of suffocation. During that time the victim could have done any number of things to free himself from the rope if he so desired. The knot was a simple slip knot and the rope was hemp, easily broken of need be. Due to the fact that the rope was neither broken nor untied nor in anyway tampered with we are forced to conclude that the cause of death was suicide by hanging. Now are there any more questions?"



"Could the victim have been drugged beforehand? All the evidence would match up if that were the case."

"There was no hint of any foreign substance in the victim's body. Nor was there any hint of head trauma." There was a short pause in which the brunette sitting next to the Usami opened and closed his mouth several times as if he couldn't make up his mind as to whether he wanted to speak or not. Miyagi watched as the larger of the two realized this then pressed his thigh more firmly against the other's, as if encouraging the smaller one. Finally the street urchin seemed to come to a decision.

"C-could he have been threatened?"

"Plausible but not likely." The other's mouth closed shut with an audible snap. "Despite him coming into a great inheritance his father had been a well-liked man with no known enemies. Though this is rare for one in the oil business it is not unheard of. So, now that that's been taken care of, would you care to follow up with your report of breaking and entering, or will that be all?"

"That will be all officer." As Akihiko made to rise his companion gave an imperceptible jab to his leg. The silverette grimaced before continuing. "Thank you for your time." Miyagi smiled as they exited his office.

"Well they were certainly an interesting couple."

"So you picked up on that too Shinobu-chin?"

"How could I not? It was practically blinding me with its obviousness."

"True true. Now that that's over with, I believe we were discussing something earlier?" Shinobu's lips curled up into a triumphant smirk.

"Oh, you mean about going to bed." Slipping fingers around the back of the teen's neck Miyagi leant over to plant a quick peck to the younger's lips.





"Why didn't you charge the thieves?"

"It would be useless."


"Yes. Because they're coming again tonight."


"Think Misaki. Those two men not only broke into my shop but committed murder in order to get this doll. Would they really just abandon the task because we managed to catch them last night?"

"Well no…but why do that all just for a doll? Bisque or not, there are probably at least a hundred other dolls of the time that are in much better condition."

"My thoughts exactly." Misaki looked up at him, peridot eyes filled with innocence and curiosity as he waited for his employer to continue. Also in there was a trust, the very same kind that a young child would place in their favorite comic book hero. It was the knowing with absolute certainty that at the end of the day the world would be saved and everything would be alright. It was an absolute, unwavering certainty which Akihiko had worked hard to gain, and daily worked harder even to keep. It was through this look that Akihiko continually gained the courage and will to move forwards, to support the shop and to not look back on the disowning given to him by his father. He and this shop were Misaki's world now, and like a comic book, a force of evil had reared its ugly head in the form of two equally ugly thieves. Now it was his duty to save the day, and for Misaki, he would do it. Reaching out he teasingly rubbed the brunette's hair, producing a pout upon the younger's face.

"I'm going to take a closer look at the doll, do you mind manning the counter for a few hours."

"I'll do my best."

"That's my Misaki." A short but passionate kiss followed the exchange, lasting until Misaki pulled away and gave the elder a look that clearly told him exactly what would happen if he didn't get to work. Running the palm of his hand over the younger's velveteen cheek Akihiko turned and left.


A small crowd of people were outside the shop door when Misaki finally came to open it and the trend continued through the whole day. It was several hours later before Misaki was finally able to get off his feet and another before the general buzz of chatter finally died down and his headache was given a chance to recede.

It was just as he had taken the drink of water needed to swallow the pain relievers that a cry of triumph came from the back room, causing him to draw in a breath of surprise at the same time as he swallowed. After a few hacking coughs he made his way over to the door and flipped the sign to 'closed' before rushing into the back room.


"I'm here! I'm here! What is it?!"

"Come look at this!" Eagerly the younger came up behind the store owner's back and peered around his shoulder. Always looking for an excuse to touch, Akihiko draped a casual hand over the small of the teens back, and hearing no objection, made a point of leaving it there as he held up his discovery in his other hand.

"Look at this."

"I'm looking at it. It looks like the poor things eye. Why exactly are you mutilating the doll?"

"I'm not, I mean I am, but there's a purpose."

"Which is?" Misaki's tone clearly told the silver haired man that he had better things to do then deal with unfound eccentricities.

"Here, let me hold it up to the light." Together they both watched as the desk lamp was pulled over then positioned behind the eye. An audible gasp came from between Misaki's lips as the light shone through the eye onto a purposely placed piece of printer paper before reflecting again into the back of the emerald, making the whole things sparkle with a life of its own.

"Wha-but that's-"

"I know."

"But how-?"

"Exactly." Fingers dug into Akihiko's arms as Misaki held on in an attempt to keep so grasp of reality.

"I-it's that...that emerald...f-from that book of yours. My god it's big."

"Oh, so you've been reading my books?"

"Oh shut up, I read sometimes."

"Or you just look at pictures."

"Shut up."

"So I'm going to presume that you didn't read the text that went along with the picture of this emerald from that book and thus do not know exactly what you are looking at."

"I know it's big, it's that enough. The size of it is enough to put you into retirement from now until you're a hundred and fifty."


"What? But it's no big and pretty."

"Try three hundred."


"This stone, right here, in my hand, is none other than the long lost Romanov Emerald, gifted by the Raja of Gopal in 1782 to Catherine the Great as a means of wooing her hand in marriage."

"T-then what's it doing here!?" Misaki's voice broke at the end, earning an amused smirk from his lover.

"Remember I rented a documentary a little while ago about the Russian revolution?"


"You have really got to stop sleeping through my attempt at teaching you history."

"But it was boooring!" Akihiko gave the other a disbelieving look before reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in resigned irritation.

"It was the Russian revolution. I thought you liked violence on tv."

"It's not the same. Just be grateful I didn't sleep through the one on the French revolution.

"You know, as punishment I might just force you to stay up through a documentary on how Portugal over threw its monarchy."

"Alright, alright! I'll try to pay more attention. Now will you finally tell me where you're going with all this revolution nonsense?"

"Fine fine, where you at least awake to learn what happened to the Romanov family?"

"...No." Misaki casually avoided his lover's accusatory gaze.

"Alright, in short summary, the Romanovs, who were the royal family in Russia before the revolution, were overthrown and brought to a remote village in Siberia where they were held captive for a number of years. At the time the red army, those against Nicholas II the emperor of Russia, and the white army, those for the emperor, were fighting."

"Like Alice's Through the Looking Glass, with the red queen and the white queen?"

"If that's what helps you understand then alright. Anyways, as soon as the white army began to push back the red army and came close to rescuing the royal family the red army decided the Romanovs needed to die."

"That's horrible!"

"That's history. Now are you going to keep interrupting or are you going to let me finish my story."


"So, the day this was decided, the Romanov family, consisting of Tsar Nicholas II, Tsarina Alexandra, and their five children were told they were going to leave. Thinking that they were going to be taken to a place with much harsher conditions than their current situation, Alexandra instructed her children to sew their jewelry and valuables into their clothes. That night, on July 16th, 1918 Yakov Yurosky ordered the family into the basement and shot them." Misaki must have forgotten his order to not interrupt because right on cue, or rather, at the exact time Akihiko was expecting, his mouth opened to interject.

"But wouldn't the jewels act as armor or something?" Akihiko gave a resigned sigh before continuing.

"They did. Which is why the soldiers had to come forwards and stab the family to death. The bodies were then driven off to be thrown into a mass grave. Before burial the bodies were stripped and it was then that the jewels were discovered. All except one jewel, on that the bolshev-sorry, red army soldiers were looking for."

"The Romanov Emerald." Misaki's voice was a mere disbelieving whisper.

"Exactly." The room fell silent then as they bother stares at the glittering stone. Akihiko came to two conclusions then. First, Misaki's education was still extremely lacking and it was clearly up to him to help his young lover, and two, Misaki's expressive eyes, which he had always compared to emeralds, were thousands of times more beautiful than any cold stone could ever hope to replicate.

"So you think their coming tonight?"


"Then what are we going to do?"

Akihiko smiled, "How skilled are you at making candy?"


There was a heavy thunk, followed immediately by a tinkling of china.

"Bloody hell! Who put this cabinet here?!

"Paul, don't you think we should be a little quieter."

"No one's home idiot. Remember, we saw the faggots leave an hour ago."

"Yeah, but-?"

"Just shut up and help me look for the doll."

A silence fell between the pair punctuated only by the occasional crash followed by a string of curses. The light of their torches danced around the room before one beam finally alighted on a white envelope, which even from a distance the two could tell was excessively formal looking, almost like an invitation to a wedding. Going closer the two could see it was addressed to "Paul & Co." The names had however been crossed out and in less loopy handwriting, something more akin to the hurried scrawl of a college student, was the title, "The Two Idiots Who Have Broken Into OUR Shop" and under that was drawn a doodle of two stick figures with X's as eyes hanging by their necks from scaffolding.

"What the fuck?!"

"Paul, you think we should open it?"

"No shit Sherlock." With trembling hands the smaller of the thieves reached forward and took the envelope. His hands were shaking to much though and he ended up dropping it before managing to tear the top of. He bent down to pick it up only to have the object torn from his hands.

"Give it here."


With deft fingers the envelope was turned over and inspected on all sides. Paul even went so far as to bring to paper up to his nose in order to sniff it. Once it seemed everything was to his satisfaction he whipped his knife out from an inside pocket and in one motion tore the top open. Out fell a single white sheet. The quality of its creamy white paper was equal to the envelope with gilded edges and a watermark at the top proudly displaying the crest of the Usami family. The heads of the two drew nearer as they both made to read the paper at the same time.

"You are cordially invited to a tea party hosted by Akihiko Usami.

Where: The bridge. You know which one.

When: As soon as is convenient

No R.S.V.P. required"

At the bottom was scrawled in the same messy writing as the envelope.

"P.S. Come if you ever want to see the doll again.

P.S.S. If you damage our shop we're calling the police.

P.S.S.S. Ditto for throwing the doll in the Thames."

The rest of the invitation was covered in teddy bear stickers and where those ran out someone had taken to drawing shaky pictures of what could almost be seen as having a resemblance to a teddy bear, that is, if one were to put a fist into one eye and squeeze the other one almost shut. Next to the pictures a short conversation seemed to have taken place in more red ink. Paul looked closer at these scribbles, wondering if they were important.

Suzukisans drawn by Akihiko.

Those were suzukisans?

Stop stealing the pen from me. Of course they wer

Hah! My pen no

Not any mo

The rest of the writing had dissolved into illegible scribbles and loops in what looked to be a fearsome battle for the pen. The shorter thief cocked his head in confusion.

"What's a suzukisan?"

"Who the fuck cares. Just wait until I get my hands on those two, I'm going to-AAAAARGH!" In no time the invitation met its end as a pile of scrap paper on the store room floor.


Yellow police tape still remained around the edge of the bridge, the ends that were tied to the railing present from where someone had been too lazy to untie them properly. They fluttered like yellow streamers in the slight breeze from the water, and would have given an abandoned look to the crime scene if it weren't for the small table surrounded by four chairs that had been placed in the middle of the bridge, a nearby streetlamp serving to spot light the setup, almost like something seen on a stage. The table was wrought iron and covered at the top by a simple lace cloth upon which sat a modest tea set. From this tea set only one cup was in use, its silver haired owner sipping from it languidly with all the grace belonging to one at the Ritz Carleton and not a dirty city sidewalk. Next to the man sat a virtually life sized stuffed bear who watched the lay out with an almost knowing look in its black, shoe button eyes. Around the bears neck was a long, wine red ribbon, tied into a slip knot. One end was help casually between the long pale fingers of the gentleman, the other disappearing over the railing of the bridge.

The man raised his head as two pairs of footsteps sounded from the shadows beyond the light of the street lamp. Violet eyes pieced the dark with a sharp gaze, picking apart the shadows until they were able to make out two figures hurriedly making their way towards the table.

"You! You bastard! Where's the doll?!"

"Safe." After registering their approach Akihiko did not spare them a second glance, instead choosing to gaze thoughtfully into his tea cup as if the walnut tinted liquid where far more interesting than whatever was happening on the opposite side of the table.

"Safe?! Don't give use that crap! We want-"

"Take a seat." Akihiko's tone was low but commanding, leaving no room for argument. Reluctantly, the two drew out their chairs and seated themselves. "I'm afraid you're going to have to pour your own drinks. My hands are occupied at the moment, as you can see."

"Like shit we're going to drink this liquid piss," At these words Akihiko's nostrils flawed indignantly but he did not interrupt, "We came for the doll and if we don't see her in the next two second, I shoot." At these bold words a small hand gun was drawn from within a deep pocket of Paul's over coat. At the revealing of the fire arm amethyst eyes finally parted from the drink and settled on the shiny black surface of the gun. There indifferent look, however, did not change.

"If you are in possession of a brain, I advise you use it at this time. Just what do you think is at the end of this ribbon?" Two pairs of eyes followed the deep red silk before it disappeared over the railing. Hurrying over, they gazed down.

"Mother fucking-you've tied the doll to the end."

"Exactly, and what do you suppose happens if you were to shoot?" A string of intense curses followed his question before the two thieves were seated once more.

"Now gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to pour your own drinks, we may begin to discuss business." The reluctant sound of clinking china followed his statement. It wasn't until both drinks were poured that the light of realization appeared in Paul's suspicious eyes.

"How do we know it's not poison?"

"You don't."

"You bast-!"

"If I was feeling charitable however I would offer to take a sip from each of your cup. I could also not accidentally pull on this ribbon. If I were feeling charitable." Both guests felt their hearts stop for a brief second as the ribbon was pulled a fraction of an inch. Paul gritted his teeth before forcing out-

"Sir...could you...please taste test our tea?"

"If it would please you." With the air of a lord offering his steed to an elderly peasant the youngest Usami reached over and one after the other took a sip from their cups before leaning back again, placing the hand he had used into the pocket of his overcoat. "Was that to your satisfaction?" The duo leaned closer, staring intently at Akihiko. He stared right back, never dropping the disinterested set to his expression.

"Feeling queasy?"

"Not in the slightest." Paul seemed to digest this information for a minute.

"And what exactly are your terms for the doll?"

"Oh, it's very small really. No trouble at all."

"What. Is. It." Paul was half out of his seat in a mixture somewhere between rage and frustration. Next to him his partner began to chew nervously on his thumbnail.

"An apology."

"WHAT?!" The resulting was more a screech than a question and Akihiko took a brief moment to wonder at the ability for the man to make such a sound.

"I believe you heard me."

"You want an apology? What the fuck for?" At this Akihiko, for the first time, turned the full intensity of his icy glaze onto the two men. Like two chips of amethyst, sharp and hard, created from extreme pressure and stress they bore into the men with a strength almost transcending mortal capability. Paul tried to hold the stare but against his will, found himself slowly lowering back into his seat.

"You have taken another man's life. Let me illustrate that for you in words since you obviously don't know what it means. You my dear sirs have ended a future full of inevitable potential and change. This man will now no longer feel. His emotions are gone. His thoughts are gone. He won't smile, or laugh, or shed tears in sadness, even though there is doubtlessly at least one person out there right now who is experiencing a the pain of loss. You caused this man to suffer. You left him to hang there as he slowly suffocated. As his airflow was cut off and his brain ceased to function and his heart quite beating. And though his pain has ended there are others out there still mourning, and there pain continues. This man had a life, which you ended. What gives you the right to do that? You knew he left the doll in my shop. You knew he could not give you what you desired, yet still, I am sure, out of pure spite you tortured him before ending his light. And now, gentlemen, I want an apology, though it can never make up for what you have done, I am giving you the chance to begin atonement. So do you want the doll or not?"

The two sat there, silently, and if looks would kill Akihiko would surely be joining his grandfather courtesy of Paul. Next to the thief, his partner was shaking as he took a trembling sip from his teacup resulting in most of the beverage ending up on his lap. Abandoning his attempt at drinking he set the porcelain down with a clatter before beginning to chew on his thumbnail nervously.

"I will not apologize."

"You will not apologize?" Akihiko cocked an eyebrow and across from him the slenderer of the thieves began to nibble harder.

"No. The kid was a spoiled brat and thought he could trick us by taking our money and not delivering the goods. No one crosses me like that and gets away with it. Everything I did to him, he deserved."

"I see…"

"Good, in that case give us the doll." Akihiko have an amused snort. At the sound the large man threw himself from the chair, jerking his hand forward so that the hot tea splashed from the cup into Akihiko's face, causing the pale man to flinch backwards and his own hand to pull downwards, releasing the slip knot. Amethyst eyes darted to the ribbon but his fingers had proved true and though the doll was several inches closer to the river than before, she was still being held fast. He sighed, blinking the still warm tea away from his lids he turned back to his guests, only to come face to face with the barrel of a gun.

Paul grinned a crooked grin and Akihiko returned it with an entertained look.

"We seemed to be at a stalemate."

"Exactly, you give us the doll or I shoot."

"You shoot and I let go."

The next few minutes were filled with silence as the two men stared into each other's eyes, neither breaking the tense moment. They remained there, Paul standing by the table, his posture straight and his shoulders firm, the barrel of pistol pressing a cold kiss into the skin between Akihiko's silver eyebrows, while said man sat, relaxed and calm, as if this were an everyday occurrence, and his life wasn't about to be snuffed out with the simple squeezing of a finger.

The air around the two tensed suddenly when without warning Paul's hand dived into one of the many pockets of his trench coat and came out with what looked to be a Chinese coin tied to the end of a piece of string. Akihiko's eyes flickered down to look at it with an annoyed expression and as he watched the coin began to swing. First left. Then back to the right. Then left again.

Then right.






As Akihiko found his mind drifting, following random currents, floating away, with nary a ripple impede its progress. His eye lids began to grow heavier as his pulse slowed more and more with every swing. A warm feeling, like the feeling of Misaki's arms wrapping around him as he drifted to sleep in between the sheets of the bed they shared. In the back of his mind he thought he vaguely registered something nagging at him, telling him that there was something he needed to do. Something important. It was annoying though and he pushed the feeling away. A feint smile tugged at his lips as soft lavender finally disappeared.

That was when the gun shoot sounded.

"Get away from him!" That voice. He knew it, he—

Silver lashes parted as stormy violet eyes flashed.

"Usagisan! Can you hear me?! Usagisan!" His head snapped up as the feel of hard metal left his brow. From beyond the halo of light created by the street lamp a messy mop of chocolate brown hair appeared, partly concealing two verdant emerald eyes. Eyes that he was familiar with, though not like this. The look in them was cold and hard, like the stone he oft compared them two. He almost stared as there gaze connected. Understanding flashed between them.

"So I guess I'm just going to ignore the fact that I told you to stay home."

"That you are."

"BLOODY FAGGOTS! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!" Misaki only grinned a cocky grin as his other hand came up to steady the Nazi derringer he had most likely nicked from one of Akihiko's cabinets. The ones which Akihiko kept the key to on his person at all times. The antique dealers smirk morphed into something more tender. Paul's violent curses ripped through the air around Akihiko, tearing him from his fond musings.

"Would you shut up all ready?!" Paul looked stunned as the usually calm man raised his voice. Running an aggravated hand through his hair Akihiko shot a heated glare at his former assailant. "Well I guess that explains why the police think it was a suicide."

"What do you mean."

"Think Misaki, no signs of a struggle, the still perfectly tied, undamaged rope and the fact that the victim had plenty of time to struggle, along with the fact that there were no drugs in his system. The only possible conclusion, considering the quaint demonstration we were just given, is that this bastard hypnotized our victim." Said bastard growled.

"You underestimate me Usami."

"Do I really?"

"You're forgetting that there is more than one of us!"

The words were said as if in command of his partner to take action and it is obvious that this is What Paul expected, for after a few second of silence, in which his opponents smile manages somehow to look even more smug than before, he turns around to see why his order was not obeyed. His annoyed gaze is met with an image of his partner slumps forward in his see, his face planted firmly into the table. The slowly spreading puddle of spilt tea bleeds into the table cloth, already too wide for the man's collapse to have been recent.

"He…he's…Oi! Idiot! Get up!" The shock registered for a brief second in his small weasel like eyes before Paul was began shouting at his companion only to have his words die in the air around him, starved of a response. Furious he turns back to sneer at Akihiko.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to a find reliable worker?! Just the right amount of greed combined with fear so that they don't turn you into the yard! It's going to take be forever to find another one like him."

Akihiko gave a hollow laugh. "Then why don't I just save you the trouble. Misa—"

"WAIT!" Akihiko's hand froze half way into giving Misaki the command to shoot. Across from him Paul began to back up slowly towards the table, his hands by his sides, palms up, showing himself to be unarmed. "You want an apology right? So, I'm apologizing, I—"

"—DON'T GIVE A SHIT!" Before the couple knew what was happening the table cloth was swept from the table, flinging the tea service at then. Paul's aim, if you could allow him the benefit of the doubt, was true and Akihiko was sent reeling backwards as the sugar bowl rammed into his forehead, shattering on impact. Misaki did not think as he dropped the derringer onto the cement in his rush to both catch his lover and shield him from more of the flying bone china. As they went down Akihiko's fingers finally let loose the ribbon and with a cry somewhere between triumph and wild indignation, the one remaining thief hurdled the railing.

The sound of a loud splash accompanied that of the shattering porcelain before the bridge went silent the only sound now being a tentative whisper, meant for the ears of one person only.

"Usagisan?...Usagisan, please answer me…Usagisan…" There was no answer, not even a flutter of silver lashes. Misaki lies under his precious person, still in the same place they had landed when the teen had used his body as a cushion for the other's fall. Slowly and carefully he scooted the man's head into his lap, and finding his movements free, discarded his shirt, almost tearing it in his haste. Not that it would have made a difference for the second. Once he was free of it he began tearing the garment into strips, half using his hands, half using his teeth. His jeans begin to grow wet as his lover's hair begins to grow crimson. The sugar bowl must have hit hard because there is no stopping the flow.

He doesn't panic though. It's not allowed, he tells himself. After all, this is the Great Lord Usami. No way would he be taken down by a sugar bowl. And besides, he's seen blood before. His home used to be the streets before being found by his rabbit. It's just…

…he's never seen this much.

His vision is starting to blur, but he blinks it away, for he must concentrate on what he's doing, his hands aren't free at the moment. They are too busy pressing the fabric scraps to his boyfriend's forehead. Tears are for the weak, and he is not weak! The big idiot needs him and he will not fail!

So though it goes against every one of the instincts he'd honed in his life as a runaway, he pulls out his phone. Lock…it's locked…what was his password again? Oh god, he can't remember, his mind is a blank slate slowly but surely being filled in with that horridly bright red. Red. It's all he can think about, all he can see.

Misaki slaps himself before picking up his phone again. His other hand never stops pressing against Akihiko's forehead. Not too hard though, in case the skulls been injured. Please don't let his skull be injured…please.

The tears aren't going away with simple blinking anymore, but it's alright because he's found the nine button, it has a little bump on it after all (somewhere in the back of his mind he's thanking Akihiko for getting him a phone with buttons for Christmas instead of a touch screen like he had been hoping for) and there's someone on the other end talking but he can't make it out over the roaring in his ears but it might be important and…he takes a deep breath…

"…llo, is anybody there?"

"Usagisan's hurt."



"Calm down sir, what is your location?"

He tells them, and they say an ambulance is coming, and that he should just calm down. They tell him to put pressure on the wound, but he doesn't because the sound of the china connecting with Akihiko's head is still echoing in his brain and he wants to vomit but won't because it would mean he would have to turn away from Usagisan san and oh god the derringer…

He stares at it for a second, wondering why something is telling him that it's important. There was something to do with the derringer and his phone call. The police! The police are coming and he's got a gun!

Years of habit kick in as reaching out he grabs hold of it and chucks it over the side. There is a second splash but he doesn't hear it because something else has grabbed his attention.

A moan.

"Usagisan?" Joy sings and Misaki's heart jumps into his chest as reddened lids parted to reveal deep violet surrounding heavily dilated pupils. Lips part and try to speak but Akihiko is obviously too confused to even comprehend where he is let alone what he wants to say, so Misaki leans forward and gentle silences the man with a tender kiss.

"Shhh…relax, it's going to be o.k." Slender fingers glide through silver and red patched hair before coming to that spot behind his lovers ear, at the area where the skull end and the neck begins, that he knows relaxes the man. He used to joke about it, calling it his boyfriend's off switch while Akihiko would just tease that Misaki really used it as a switch for better sex.

Sure enough it works and lashes once again fall closed. In the distance he can hear the sirens and he too breaths a little easier. The wrinkles on his brow smooth out even more as he realizes that the blood has stopped flowing as heavily, and oh, look, he can see flashing light.

Yes, he thinks, everything is going to be o.k.


A rat scurried away, over the muddy bank, dodging old bottles and take out boxes before stopping to look back at what it was that had disturbed its scavenging. Behind it the ink black waters of the river churned as bubbles rose to the surface, followed in no time by an equally black hulking shape. The rat twitched it's whiskers in curiosity as the shape continued to rise and take form revealing itself in the meager light from the street to be nothing more than a man.

The man staggered and almost fell as he climbed the bank. Despite this though he did not he did not uncurl his arms from his chest. Something was being grasped tightly there, it's outline indiscernible from the rest of his filthy dripping coat. Eventually the rat had to move or risk being trampled as the man trudged up the slippery bank, so it didn't see the survivor of the river lift up his arms once reaching the streetlamp. Nor did it see the small object clutched within his hands as putrid waters streamed on to the cement. And last, it did not see the man's expression as lips curled up and parted allowing a repulsive cackle escape before quickly dissolving into a strong hacking cough.


Green eyes glistened dully from behind a limp brunette fringe as the automatic doors parted, allowing the couple to leave the E.R. There unbreaking stare at the ground made them miss the worry in their partners own amethyst crystals and left their owner unprepared for the cool hand that settled atop the unruly brown mess and ruffled the area even more. Misaki looked up with a glare.

"Usagisan, don't do that."

"Why not, it made you look at me." The younger had no response to that. "Cheer up Misaki, everything turned out fine."

"Shut up! I lost the jewel and Paul got away, not to mention you've got a concussion along with the fact that the police think where suspicious because we had a unconscious man sitting at the table where we had 'spontaneously decided to have a midnight tea pa—" The lights outside the hospital cast a warm inviting light across the teen's furious face and before he knew what was happening his furious rant, complete with air quotes, was cut off by a pair of soft lips.

"Shh, calm down. We haven't done anything to break the law so they can't charge us. As far as they're concerned we were just enjoying a view of the city at night when two punks came and ruined our party." Misaki opened his mouth, presumably to give some witty come back but Akihiko cut him off, "Besides, it's only a minor concussion and won't cause any damage unless I accidently hit it again sometime in the next few months. Now what was that last thing, wait, the jewel. Well," Akihiko reached up and brushed Misaki's hair away from his forehead, giving him a chaste kiss, "I wouldn't worry too much about that."


In an explosion of porcelain the bisque doll finally met her end as nothing more than angular shards and dust courtesy of the boot repeatedly ramming into her fragile body as she lay prone on the concrete. No tears or moments of silence were given to the end of her days as a beautifully crafted doll who had spent decades entertaining children and adults alike. Instead the only audience to her demise began muttered curses under his breath as he frantically shifted through the rubble that had formerly been her head. With a cry of triumph he straightened from his crouched position and held aloft the green glittering object, allowing the feeble orange light to reflect and refract among its many shining facets.


Wandering hands made their way down the boy's slender waist before settling on either arse cheek and giving a quick squeeze, resulting in a squeak followed by a hasty retreat.

"Bloody pervert! Would you just stop thinking of that for one second and tell me why we shouldn't be worrying about that?!" His outraged demand was met with an amused grin.

"Why Misaki, I dare say, there seems to be something in your pocket." Not taking his gaze of the known sex offender Misaki grumbled while reaching behind himself to slip a hand into his own back pocket only to find that there was indeed something concealed there. Something weighty and cold. He held it in front of him in the light and gasped.


Paul frowned. There was something wrong. The jewel should be shining in the light and yet wasn't. In fact it was doing the opposite and the thief would even venture to go as far as saying it looked a bit dull. He held it closer to his face before giving the faux emerald a quick sniff.

It was sweet.


Misaki sputtered, looking between the shining green stone and the equally shining face of his employer. In this case though, said man was beaming a smile down at his little lover with a smile that Misaki found he had to blink a few times in order to properly look at. Honestly the man was giving him the look a child gives to their parents after showing them a particularly good report card and was expecting their reward.


Popping the thing into his mouth Paul was able to confirm that the thing which he had thought to be his precious emerald was in fact nothing more exciting than dyed sugar water. With an angry crunch he cracked the piece of candy between two molars before opening his mouth in order to release the furious roar he could feel bubbling up inside his chest. His pulse sped up as white hot anger filled his vein and roar he did. How dare they?! Those two—? ! How dare they?!

There will be blood!


After a few more second of looking at the Romanov Emerald the brunette gave a resigned sigh and took a few steps closer to his boyfriend.

"You know, if you're expecting any kind of reward, you're going to have to bend down, I'm not a freakishly tall giant like some people I could name." The expectant smile quickly morphed into a smirk as Akihiko leaned forward. Misaki took a moment to look into the others eyes and absorb the amethysts that seemed to be halfway between twinkling in amusement and shining steadily with a light that Misaki grudgingly admitted was love. With a yank to his lover's tie, just because he could, the boy allowed their lips to meet for half a second before pulling back.

"What, was that all?"

"Were you expecting more?"

"Frankly, yes." Misaki was given no chance to protest as cool lips crashed against his own in a passion filled his that robbed him of all air and thought. A skilled tongue plunged into his mouth coaquesing out his own appendage and inviting it to dance. A moan escaped as all at once he was simultaneously fly and melting, all control over his limps shutting down as he gave himself over to lover.

Secretly the university student thought the kiss hadn't lasted nearly long enough as both parties found themselves needing to pull away or face the consequences of passing out and probably giving the taller of the two another concussion. As oxygen began to rush back to Misaki's brain a thought occurred to him.

"Alright, so that explains why you made me make those green candies before but what are we going to do when Paul figures out what we've done!? He's not going to let this rest! He—!" He interrupted himself with a gasp as a certain rabbit's tongue at that moment decided to explore the shell of his ear before teeth latched onto his earlobe and gave a sharp tug. Heated breaths danced over the sensitive skin and Misaki found his mind once again turning to mush as he pressed himself against the firm chest of his lover.

"Don't worry yourself about it my love, I took care of everything.


Blood…too much…

The thief gave another hacking cough splattering more of the scarlet liquid across the concrete. His legs had long since betrayed him and he found himself with his cheeks pressed against cold stones as his body convulsed in uncontrollable waves. He was both hot and cold. In pain and numb. Limps twitched and eyes rolled back as silence finally slipped in leaving in her wake nothing but the gentle lapping of waves against the rocky, garbage strewn banks of the river Thames.


Some things that might make this clearer.

A belleek vase is a white shaped porcelain thing which for some reason every antique store I go to uses as a pen holder. Dunno why.

Also, unlike every other revolution in history, instead of brutally slaying their monarchy and all their supporters, the Portuguese merely exiled them and put them onto a boat. At least from what I've gathered from the old newspaper hanging in the hostel in Lisbon.

I said this before but all you pplz reading this should go hop over and read raiu2112's stories then leave her a nice (or more than just nice) comment because to put it lightly, life has been treating her like shit. We've all had those days, but hers has been lasting for way too long and although a comment on some virtual forum isn't really going to fix anything things like that do help.

BTW, has anyone figured out how Akihiko killed the skinny thief?