Kichiku Neko's Blog

This piece's done as another exercise after Jo sent me a picture of Katsuya tied to the chair.  It was something she made to accompany an article she'd written for a Taiwanese publisher about 'moe'.  And a slightly battered Katsuya is that to her.  Jo and I have a usual exchange of inspiration. Sometimes I'd suggest an off-shot scenario or shorts that, if given time – she’ll draw it out.  Sometimes she’d draw something that is a challenge to me to write something to wrap around it.

This is one of them.  Although I know the ending of the story lend itself to a “to be continued”, it likely won’t be.  It’s an interesting premise but Jo and I agreed that ITW and its prequel will lose ‘something’ if Katsuya’s a constant magnet of bad people who wants to do bad things to him. So likely this beginning will be given to Jaki, who have a long running story of two CIA men in lust/love.

For now, it’s for your entertainment.

Sorry about the awkward formatting. I guess LJ don't do word-wrap.


      He had been left sitting here for a while.  He hadn’t any notion of time or how long he had been here except that he had sat here, bound to this chair so tightly that he could barely feel his fingers.  The cut over his right eye had at least stopped bleeding, although he'd had to shut it – the blood stung.

          The single light bulb that hung over him was domed, showering him with bright light that gave him a headache.  He didn’t know where he was, except that there were trains that went by in the distance -- he'd counted three since he'd startled awake in the chair.

         After some time there had been more discomfort than pain, his body becoming used to the nagging sensations.  Perhaps numbing his reaction when he heard the door to the room open and someone with hard-soled shoes come in.  His right eye opened slightly and he had to force himself to keep it open, as he heard a chair being dragged along the concrete floor toward him and placed at the edge of where light washed into dark.  His visitor turned the chair around, the back facing him and sat down.  Katsuya could barely make out the silhouette of crossed arms that lay across the top of the chair.  Knees, clad in expensive dark slacks and the tips of shined leather shoes poked through the shadow and into the light. 

         “Sorry,” the man said, after he'd regarded Katsuya for a while.  His voice was rough; probably a heavy smoker.  “My guys didn’t mean to hurt you.  They didn’t expect you to put up a fight.”

         “I could dismiss your people’s oversight if I had somehow earned this kidnapping,” Katsuya said.  “Who are you?”

         The man’s right foot tapped.  Katsuya could sense a grin on the man’s face then.

         “Not the least bit scared?”

         Katsuya didn’t answer.  He stared ahead, trying to adjust to the dark and trying to make out any features of the man.  The bright light only made his headache worse.

         “You sleeping with him?” the man asked.

         “What?”

         “Unless you are the serial dating kind, which I don’t think you are, you know who I am talking about.” There was a slight Boston accent to his voice. 

         “Your question didn’t answer mine,” Katsuya said.

         A laugh answered him, an explosive sound in the small, hollow room. 

         “You’re cute,” the man said.  He lowered one of his arms until his hand came into the light.  His ring and middle fingers were adorned with heavy gold rings.  “But I can only tolerate cute in small doses.  You should answer my questions when I am being cordial to you.”

         “Will you untie me?” Katsuya said after weighing his options.  “I can’t feel my hands.  I’ll talk to you.”

         There was a short, contemplative pause before the man got up and circled in the outskirts of the light.  Katsuya could smell a mix of cigarettes and cologne as he came closer.

         “You are a good looking boy,” he said.  There was a slight sound of fabric rustling.  Katsuya flinched when a handkerchief blotted the cut on his forehead.  “Shame that my boys hurt your face.”

         “I appreciate your concern,” Katsuya said. 

         The handkerchief wiped away enough blood from around his right eye for it to open fully.  The headache eased.

         “Krause used to date the stripper-type, good looking but disposable.  Guess his tastes have matured,” the man said with a chuckle.  The handkerchief was withdrawn. 

         “If your dispute is with Detective Krause, why am I here?”

         Fingers laced through Katsuya’s hair then, combing it with alarming gentleness. 

         “A matter of unfortunate timing and opportunity,” the man said.  The stroking of his hair continued.  “For you anyway.  The boys weren’t expecting you to be at Krause’s apartment.  They snatched you before they realized they had the wrong guy.”

         The stroking stopped.  The fingers left and there was a different sound -- the slight metallic snap of a pocket knife.  He’d heard it often, back in college when he'd had a neurotic classmate in his study group who would snap a knife open and closed repeatedly without awareness -- a way to keep his physical self occupied so his mind could focus on his books. 

         “When you rob a place,” the man continued, as he slid the knife blade through the rope knot between Katsuya’s wrists and sawed at it,  “even if you realize you took the wrong thing, it’s not my philosophy to ditch it.  Everything has value.”

         “Is that why you theorized I'm sleeping with him, because I was at his apartment?”

         The knot was cut through and the rope loosened and fell away.  The man touched Katsuya’s fingers and rubbed them before stepping back.  He left the binding wrapped around Katsuya chest, tethering him to the chair.

         “Sure,” the man said.  He walked back to the chair and sat, this time hanging his arms over the back.  He wore a gray dress shirt with silver cufflinks.  A silver link bracelet peeked under the cuff on his right wrist -- a man who had money and liked to express his wealth.   “But it’s a sense, too.  I can see how he’d go for someone like you.”

         “Someone like me…,” Katsuya said.  He almost wanted to smile for no particular reason, except that he couldn’t have fathomed in a million years that he would be sitting here having a ridiculous conversation with a man he couldn't see.

         “You had a NYPD access badge on you, but no police badge,” his captor said.  “So…?”

         “I’m the department psychiatrist,” Katsuya said.  “No one important.”

         “If you're important to someone, then you're important,” he said, gesturing with one hand.  He laughed at his own musing.

         “I haven’t seen your face.  I’ve not seen your men’s faces.  If you let me go.... “

         The man cut him off, wagging his index finger as he did so.  “Then you’ll forget what happened and not report this?”

         “So you want to keep me to bait Krause?”

         “What I’ll do to you will be so much more than what I could make him feel, even if I had him now in that chair instead of you,” the man's voice had dropped to a low whisper.  There was muted excitement in his words that made Katsuya’s blood run cold.  “Do you think he’d take his own life if I told him the only way I'd stop hurting you would be if he killed himself?”

          Katsuya felt his throat close in that instant.

         “Would it be an act of strength or weakness, if he did that for you?” the man asked.  “I suppose we’ll find out how much he likes…or loves you, huh?”

         He stood and pulled a cell phone from his pocket.  Katsuya grimaced, realizing the phone was his.  The man looked through it first. “Popular,” he said finally.  “Thirty-two missed calls.  Most of them from Krause.”

         “From how you speak of him,” Katsuya said,  “you must've known each other a long time ago.”

         The man stopped looking at the phone. “Yeah,” he said.  “Long, long ago.”

         “How did he wrong you?”

         He didn’t answer.  Instead, he raised the phone.   “Look pretty for the camera,” he said, and clicked the picture before Katsuya could turn away. 

         The flash lit up the room, but it was too bright for Katsuya to see the man in that brief fraction of the second.  He saw white spots instead. 

         The man took another picture.  “We should document a “before” just in case we accidentally ruin your face.”

         He stepped into the light, although Katsuya still couldn’t make out most of his features. 

         “I like nice things,” the man said – stopping in front of Katsuya and towering over him.  “I’ll do my best to make sure you look good, to the end.”

         He leaned forward, just enough to blot out the light.  Katsuya’s eyes focused quickly on his face.  He had seen him before, although the man obviously didn’t recognize him.  He couldn’t pull up the memory, even as the man bent down to his eye level.  He was handsome, in a rugged way.  There were lines on his face – not from age but something else -- a hard life?  He could be David’s age, at most only a couple of years older.

         “Maybe if we both play this right, this could have a happy ending.”

         The man lifted Katsuya’s chin up by his thumb and forefinger.  There were callouses on his fingertips; a sensation Katsuya knew well.   David had callouses  on the fingertips of his shooting hand from his gun.  Like David, the man probably spent hours a week at the range.

         “Maybe you’ll have a very nice, pampered life with me after this is over,” the man said.  His mouth swept over Katsuya’s in a tentative kiss.  After a second pass, his tongue slipped through parted lips.  Katsuya was frozen, fighting the instinct to bite down on the tongue licking against his that tasted of cigarettes.  The kiss wasn’t hard, but it was uncomfortably long.  When it finally broke, the man looked pleased.

         “Bet I can give you better orgasms than he can,” he said.  “Fuck you so hard you’ll forget who Krause is.”

         There were several choice comebacks that brimmed on his tongue, but Katsuya held them all back.  The man was baiting him, testing him, trying to gauge how easily he could be intimidated.  Although he was, Katsuya was glad his ego wouldn’t let it show. 

         The man’s smile only broadened at Katsuya’s silence.  He licked at Katsuya’s lower lip once, then straightened, waiting a few more seconds for a reaction then leaving when there was none. 

         If he hadn’t still been bound to the chair, Katsuya would not have remained sitting.  He closed his eyes, the wash of white being replaced with red.  His mind refused to register what had been said to him.  Instead, he focused on the single thought that was in his mind:  David…. Please find me quickly….

When I returned from Japan a week into 2013 - GP's pretty much booked into 2014.  Can't complain.  Work is work.  Even though Jo and I are trying to figure out how to manipulate the physics and time to put out 6-7 books this year, while we've been only able to put out 4 per year.  

Going on - the latest 'thing' GP finally made its entry in is the world of ebooks.  Although we will still have print books (we are old enough to admit we are old school and like to touch dead trees), ebooks will allow us to reach out to the readers who may not be able to access the print  books for whatever reasons.  Thanks to our tech savvy staff, Shoganai -- we are releasing the ebooks via Kobo.

http://guiltpleasure.com/gp/ebooks.html

Eventually, all of our works will migrate that way.  Sorry, no Kindle or Nook.  Their DRMs' restrictive to their reading devices and they take 75% share of each book sold. Kobo have its bugs that we are working out, but considerably more people own a PC/Laptop, smart phone or i-Device than specialized e-reader. So please be patient with us!

Cruel to be Kind's the first novel G|P released and technically the first collaboration between Jo and myself.  It was a fun and frivolous co-op.  And although we hadn’t plans to continue the story and make the second novel – we decided to.  We hope the schedule’s forgiving enough throughout 2013 for the second half of this novel to be completed.

For now – here’s a preview/prologue into CTBK’s second novel.

Note: If you have not read the novel yet, this chapter will spoil you for the ending to CTBK. And it probably don't make sense to you at all.

Come Undone:  Prologue

            Kanizawa was interrupted by his receptionist on his office phone. The grimace on his face became even more pronounced when she mentioned a name that meant nothing to him.  The two guests in his office waited patiently as he cursed at her.

            “He is very insistent --” the young woman said, her voice a bit panicked.

            “You forgot how to call for security? You must be more worthless than I thought.”

            The young woman tried to steady her nerves.  Her voice dropped lower as she said, “He said to tell you it’s about Sakiyama and...Kagura...and S.D.I.”

            Kanizawa’s features changed at once, his interest stirred by names he hadn’t heard for a long time.

            “Really,” he said.

            “Sir –- he...WAIT!”

            There was the sound of the receiver clattering onto the desk.  Kanizawa heard echoes of his receptionist shouting for someone to stop, her heels clacking noisily as she hurried after them.  Kanizawa hung up the phone and dialed another extension.  It was picked up after one ring.

            “If you haven’t been informed already, there’s a commotion on the first floor.  Take care of it.  Bring up whoever it is that Keiko is chasing after.  He’s probably heading toward the elevators.”

            “Yes, sir,” the voice answered him and hung up.

            Kanizawa replaced his receiver and looked at his guests with a forced smile.

            “There are some urgent issues I have to handle,” he said.  “Let’s continue our discussion tonight over dinner at the Ritz-Carlton.  My secretary will phone your office shortly with the details.”

            The men nodded, although they didn’t look happy as they did so.  One of them gathered the papers that had been spread on the glass table while the other thanked Kanizawa for his time.  Formalities lasted for another few minutes, until Yohei Yamaoto came through the double doors escorted by two similarly garbed men.

            “Please accompany Ougi-san and his associate out,” Kanizawa said, standing up from his desk.

            There was a brief moment of confusion, but then Security did as they were told.  After the men left, Kanizawa’s forced smile returned to his usual grimace.  He walked around his desk and pulled a chair out from the glass table.

            “You took a helluva chance coming here and interrupting my business,” Kanizawa said.  “You know what’ll happen if this turns out to be a poor excuse of a job interview, right? Barging into my building isn’t a proper way of gaining employment.”

            Yohei only smiled as he took a seat near Kanizawa.  He lifted his leather briefcase onto the table top.

            “Of course, Kanizawa-san,” Yohei said.  “I would never think of wasting your time.  I do apologize for the lack of an appointment.  I have a flight to Italy soon.”

            “I am not a very patient man,” Kanizawa said, keeping his voice steady.  “If what you say in the next five minutes doesn't interest me, you won’t be able to make your flight or any other plans you may have for the next few weeks.”

            A corner of Yohei’s mouth turned up and he nearly laughed. “Of course, sir,” he said, unsnapping the latches on the case.  “I think what I have will interest you.”

            Kanizawa arched an eyebrow. “There’re not that many things that do,”

            Yohei opened the lid, revealing two manila folders. “I understand S.D.I. cost you a lot of money,” he said.  “I looked into it after Sakiyama-san mentioned it in passing long ago.”

            Kanizawa said nothing; one finger tapped the table impatiently. 

            “The President of the company, Takeuchi Shouchiro, borrowed a considerable amount of money from you and subsequently took the debt with him when he committed suicide.” Yohei pulled out one of the folders. “There were no known leads to his family, they had already been sent overseas with their names changed.  He evidently used your money to hide them.”

            Kanizawa looked annoyed.  His eyebrows drew together. “Sakiyama had me investigated?”

            “Sakiyama had all his potential business partners investigated,” Yohei said.  “But he had knowledge of this even before the collapse of his former employment.  He was Orion’s Chief of Security, after all.  He had access to a lot of information.”

            Kanizawa pushed himself away from the table and made his way toward a small wet bar at the far end of the office. 

            “I am afraid Sakiyama-san kept something rather dangerous that didn’t belong to him and paid for it with his life,”

            “Oh?” Kanizawa selected a half-bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and pulled a glass from beneath the counter. “The person that murdered him?”

            “Yes,” Yohei said.

            “The cops can’t prove who did it, but you can?” Kanizawa asked, shaking his head as he filled half of his glass.

            “I'm not under the same restrictions as the police," Yohei said.  “And I have access to their files.”

            Kanizawa scoffed and drank, emptying the glass in one swallow.

            “To summarize what you may already know,” Yohei said,  “the woman who was with Sakiyama claimed to have been with Kagura...while he was with you and two other distinguished guests.  I was also there.”

            Kanizawa shrugged, pouring himself another drink.  This time, he filled the glass to the brim.

            “She was both right and wrong,” Yohei continued. “It was Kagura who was with them both that night...and with certainty, the one that murdered Sakiyama-san.”

            Yohei tapped the manila folder with an index finger. “It was a theory that the police couldn't prove, mainly because Takeuchi had erased almost every record that’s known pertaining to his family -- even the illegitimate members.” 

            Kanizawa came back toward the table, carrying the whiskey bottle with him in one hand and the glass in another.  He looked amused.

            “There was a birth certificate that we did find for a Kousaka Kagura,” Yohei said.  “I located the doctor in Kyoto who delivered him and signed the certificate....” He opened one of the folders and flipped to a black and white photocopy of a birth certificate.  There were two identical copies with a slight difference.

            “Twins...,” Kanizawa said after he looked at the papers. 

            “While one was with you, establishing an alibi,” Yohei said,  “the other one –-“ He gestured in the air, replacing the rest of his sentence. 

            Kanizawa only nodded as he took another swallow of his drink.

            “Kousaka twins.  I believe it was the older one who felled Orion.  Since Sakiyama-san escaped the collapse and made enough money from it to buy what was left over, the twins came back to finish the job.”

            Kanizawa continued to study the copies of the birth certificates.  Kagura had been the older twin -– born minutes before the second one, Kaguya.  The section where the father's name should have been had been left blank.  The twins had taken their mother’s surname.

            Kanizawa looked at his empty glass, trying to decide if he should pour himself another.  After a short moment of consideration, he pulled the bottle to him. “And?” he asked, refilling his glass.  “What does all this have to do with me?”

            “Why would the twins make a concerted effort to ruin Orion completely? Even coming back to Sakiyama-san after two years to finish off his twenty-five percent holding in the company?”

            Kanizawa didn’t reply.  He took a pull from his full glass and waited for Yohei to answer the rhetorical question.

            “The twins were upset their father’s company had been ruined by Orion,” Yohei said.

            “Sakiyama knew this,” Kanizawa said after a while. 

            “Kagura had confessed to him when he was caught years ago uploading the virus into Orion’s mainframe.”

            Yohei turned to some pages in the back, faxes with numbers in several columns all gathered in a binder clip. “It’s easier to find records when you know what names to look for,” he said. “This is just a sample of one year’s financial record of the money paid to Takeuchi’s mistress -- quite a bit of money to support just a woman he was seeing on the side.  However, it’s just the right amount to help her raise two children -- two sons that Takeuchi sent to expensive private schools.  They were an investment, perhaps, possible heirs.  Takeuchi and his legal wife only had a daughter.”

            Kanizawa looked at the columns of numbers.  Gradually, his face broke into a smile.  He laughed, and the sound echoed in the room with its vaulted ceiling. 

            “The sonuvabitch Sakiyama deserves it,” Kanizawa finally said.  “Asshole who kept my things.  You knew also, didn’t you? All this time.  Even as you watched me fuck one of them that night –- you knew I was fucking what already belonged to me.”

            Yohei shrugged.  He pulled out the second manila folder.  It was thinner.

            “Sakiyama-san was paying my salary,” he said.  “Nothing personal.”

            “And this is your way to make your money now that Sakiyama’s no longer around to sign your paychecks?”

            “I suppose you could say that,” Yohei said.  “After this, I want to wash my hands of this entire thing and retire somewhere where no one knows me and I don’t know them.”

            He flipped open the second folder.  In it were several color glossy pictures.  The top one showed the twins sitting at a small sidewalk café table with two small porcelain cups of coffee.  They were talking -– the twin with the glasses was smiling, listening while the other looked serious as he spoke.  There were foreigners all around, occupying other tables.  Behind them, there was a fountain.  He wasn’t  certain where the place was, but Kanizawa knew they weren’t in Japan. 

            “A hundred million each,” Yohei said.  “Plus expenses.”

            “Two hundred million for my own property to be returned?” Kanizawa asked.  He slid the manila folder to himself and leafed through the photos. 

            “Recovery,” Yohei said.  “You’ve sampled one of them already.  The twins are worth a small fortune, wouldn’t you say?  Two hundred million easily.”

            One of the photos showed the twin with the glasses sitting by himself somewhere indoors.  A fancy hotel lounge, from the looks of it.  He was seated on a plush cream-colored sofa dressed in a black fitted suit, a briefcase at his feet.  He was reading a newspaper, his focus intense.

            “Italian paper,” Kanizawa said, making out the text from the paper.

            “Yes, the twins are in Italy,” Yohei said.  “Last known location is where Kaguya told the police he would be.”

            “This one is?” Kanizawa asked, tapping the photo.

            “Kagura,” Yohei said.  “The older one.”

            Kanizawa’s smile widened. “You've already booked your flight back to Italy to fetch these two?”

            “Yes and no.  I will need private flight services to bring at least one back.”

            “One?”

            Yohei returned Kanizawa’s smile. “I’ve spent over a month in Italy tracking them and studying their comings and goings.  Kaguya’s a student.  His schedule’s set.  Kagura’s different.  He’s careful.  He changes his routine every few days, and he's connected to several very wealthy and powerful men.”

            Kanizawa laughed. “At least they won’t need to be trained.”

            “If I take Kaguya and bring him here to you,” Yohei said, “Kagura will follow on his own.”

            “Knowing he can't save his brother or himself once he is in my hands?”

            Yohei leaned back in his chair.  He laced his fingers together, resting them on his lap. “To be honest, I can only give you an expert opinion on what I observed myself,” he said.  “There’s a possibility that he may flee if he knows you know about Takeuchi’s leftovers.  There’s a high probability that he will not abandon his brother.  He will likely come to you, ask you to take him to replace his brother.  All you have to do to lure him in is make him a false promise.”

            “That easy, huh.”

            “It could be,” Yohei said.  “I will only have one chance to snatch Kaguya.  If I miss this chance or am discovered, the twins will flee, likely into the arms of the powerful men I mentioned. After that, it is not likely they will be found again.  I have a solid plan, but I need logistical support.  That is why I am here.”

            Kanizawa’s finger tapped on his empty glass, his fingernail clicking against it.  He was quiet for a while.

            “I will need to have a private jet ready to take myself and Kaguya to Heathrow from Fiumicino airport in Rome, and another private transport from Heathrow back here. Kaguya will be in your hands before this week ends, if my plan is followed to the letter.” Yohei looked happy as he made the promise.

            “If you lose them both, I’d advise you to stay in Italy.  You will be dead as soon you step off the plane.”

            Yohei’s cheerful exterior didn’t change. “Of course.”

            “You will get your pay when both of them are in my custody,” Kanizawa said.  “So if the other one runs off...you have to find him in order to collect.”

            Yohei nodded, thinking about this. “Fair enough,” he said.  “Do I get a private jet on stand-by for me? I recommend having it ready to go in three days.”

            “If you are spending my money and using my resources, you are going to be doing so in the company of my men.”

            Yohei laughed. “Of course, Kanizawa-san, as long as you tell them to stay out of my way and to do as I say.  I'm rather pleased with the extra help.  Now if your men get stupid and tip off the twins and allow them to slip away, I hope you know whose head to lop off.”

            “Don’t worry,” Kanizawa said.  “I will only send you the best.”

            Yohei stood and began to collect his papers, shoving them back into his portfolio.  He left the photos on the desk. “Something for you to look at until the real thing is in your hands,” he said.  He pulled out a folded piece of paper that had been tucked into one of the pockets of the portfolio. “My hotel and contact information,” he said as he left that on top of the photos.  “I have to be at Narita in two hours.  Have your men come find me within the next twenty-four.”

Kanizawa said nothing and poured himself another drink as Yohei excused himself and left.  He looked at the color photos, the glossy prints reflecting spots of light on their surface.  He shifted the pictures with an index finger, looking at the ones on the bottom.  He smiled.

“Twins,” he said to himself and laughed.  “Sonuvabitch.”

            

Happy New Year....days late.  Survived Tokyo but still jetlagged. But it's all good.  Especially when I am still getting nice gifts! The latest one came all the way from Croatia (via Judi in the East Coast) - made me pretty happy when it arrived.  It shall be hung by my desk. :) Thank you Margareta!
 

Although we are working on ITW8, I will still stray and write random stuff that doesn't matter.  This is one of them.  Wrapped around the the "Fuck the Police" of all things.  This thought came from a picture of a uniformed cop posing like tourists at a back alley graffiti that said "fuck cops" while the other took a picture with his cellphone.  So, this is just another practice.  See how David sounds when he's at work.  And I just like to write cop-shop speak. :D  Anyway - no warnings. Not much of anything. Katsuya's not even there.  Just a short piece about David conducting an interview (we are not allowed to call them interrogations - PC reasons). Not beta'ed, grammar checked, etc. Advanced apologies for boring you.

The kid wasn’t someone unusual.  David’d seen the variety from the streets.  The pre-teens with clothes with terrible fit.  The odd lingo that marginally passed as English.  They were someone whom he simply don’t think very much of until guns were involved and killing the rivals’ part of the initiation.  Or for recreation.  Whatever the case, he’s always annoyed when he had to interview one of them.  He pawned them off to other investigators if he could.

“Still?” David said.  He had given the interview task to Montoya.  He had opted to take another field case in lieu of it and already returned.  A look at the watch told him he had been gone for nearly four hours.
Montoya shrugged.  He and Bellany continued to watch Richards and the suspect on the Close-Circuit TV.  Although Richards and the kid looked almost the same age, David knew they were at least 5 years apart.  
“He…” David said as he looked down at the print out flopped open in front of the monitor.  “Montoya.  First name Carlos. Hey, he one of your illegits?”
“Like one of mine would end up in a shitty gang.”
“Yeah. You sort of have to have sex to have kids too.  Your ED started years before he was born.”
“Shut up.”
David slapped Montoya on one shoulder.  “You know Richards’ not going to get shit out of him.”
“The kid has to be broken in somehow.”
“Not at the expense of passing time we don’t have,” David said.  He picked up the folder and flipped through the few pages in it.“Get him out of there, will you?” David said without looking up.  “Richards looked like he’s about to cry or beat the shit out of Carlos.  Neither looks good for the section.”
“Ye of little faith,” Bellany said as he stood up from the chair.  
David continued to read, flipping through the notes pinned to the manila folder as Bellany entered the screen – letting himself into the room.  Richards looked relieved in that instant.
“Let’s take a break,” Bellany said as he gestured for Richards to leave the room, hitching his thumb outwards.  Richards was quick to comply – rushing out of the room quickly.  
“You need a paper bag to breathe into Junior?” Montoya said to Richards as soon as the interview door closed.  He was grinning, trying not to laugh.
“It was like talking to myself in there…but with the English language I don’t understand,” Richards said.  He loosened his tie and let out a deep breath
“The guy’s started a rap sheet since he was 12.  If he ignored adults and any semblance of authority – what made you think YOU, who looked his age, would take you seriously,” David said, tossing the folder back onto the table.  “Montoya…this crusty one, is fucking with you.”
Richards looked a little hurt as he looked over to Montoya.
“Don’t take it personal,” David said as he stood.  He loosened his tie and pulled it off, slapping it at the back of the chair.  “He had me interview a guy who didn’t even speak English for three hours for my
first time.”
“Popped the cherry really quick, didn’t it?” Montoya said.  “Not so nervous after any guys after that.”
David unbuttoned his shirt cuffs.
“Trust me when I say you are not my first, old man,” David said and rolled up the sleeves.  “I wasn’t born a virgin.”
Richards looked confused.  He wrung the notebook in his hands.  David smiled and took the notebook.
“I’ll get this,” David said, patting Richard on one shoulder as he walked passed.  “But you are doing all the paperwork.”

As soon as he walked into the small, stifling interview room – David wished he had gotten coffee.  Something else in the air that weren’t pot and cheap cologne the kid wore.  Carlos looked up at him, his arms crossed and hands tucked into his arm pits.  Classic body language.
“I’m Detective Krause,” David said as he pulled up one of the two empty chairs  - up close.  “I’ll be taking over the interview.”
Carlos leaned back away – teetering on the hind legs of the chair.  A small compensation for his lost personal space.
“So the other guy gave up eh?”
David shrugged.  “I think he’d punched you in the head if he decided he gave up.”
“Ain’t you guys not suppose to talk to people like that?”
David smiled
“We are here to talk about you,” David said.  He leaned forward, encroaching into Carlos’ space even further.  He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “We picked up your boss CZ an hour ago.  He’d already pinned it all on you.”
“You lyin’.  Fuck the police.”
“No no,” David said with an exaggerated shake of his head.  “You want to first write the police a nice letter.  Maybe a poem you copied somewhere or quoting lyrics from a syrupy song is more of how kids do it now a days.”
“What?”
“Then you want to ask the police out on a date.  A nice restaurant – not too high end. It’s kind of intimidating.  But definitely not any place that has a dollar menu. First impressions’ important.”
“You trippin’?”
“Movies’ kind of a cliché. Maybe a nice club with decent jazz.  Then you take the police home. And, this is very important … if the police only gave you the definite signals and initiates, THEN you can fuck the police.”
Carlos stared at David, silent.  There weren’t any expressions on his face as he tried to register what David had said.


Outside the interview room, Richards and Bellany laughed.

“Fucking Dave,” Montoya said as he scratched his mustache.  


“Anyway,” David said.  “Returning to the beaten path.  Should I call you Carlos or would you be happier if I called you by your street name? It’s kind of cute.  Green.  As in money or the Giant?”
“I ain’t saying a word. You gonna charge me or what?”
“Soon,” David said.  He scooted his chair forward another inch.  Carlos seemed to be visibly annoyed.  “Waiting for my guy to tell me when CZ finishes making his statement.  As soon as he’s done…”


“Isn’t it dangerous? He could ask for a lawyer any time and the questioning would have to stop,” Richards said.
“Krause’s playing chicken with him.  He knows the kid’s experienced and knows once he asks for a lawyer, there’s no more deals from us.  Or at least illusions of a deal.  The prosecutor will deal with him next and with his record, it’s definite prison.”
“We don’t have this CZ in custody right?”
“Not yet,” Montoya said.  “Not until the kid here implicates him.  And he will soon. And then they’ll implicate each other.”
Richards nodded and looked back to the CCTV.  On it, Krause looked like a cat playing cheerfully with the caught mice.  


“I ain’t there.”
“I have five people who put you two there.  You think we pulled your names out of our asses? The gun had both of your prints on it so I’m not going to be too picky on nailing which of you as the trigger man.  But given your extensive knowledge of the criminal justice system, I know that YOU know who’ll get hammered harder when we officially charge you two clowns.”
“I didn’t do nothing’.”
David leaned back in his chair, finally letting up.  He looked at his watch.
“And we don’t have to do a thing,” David said as he crossed his legs.  “We’ll wait until CZ’s done.  I think it’s the big words that’s slowing him down. He should have been done half an hour ago.”
“You lying…” Carlos said.  This time, his voice was weaker and without conviction.  His cheeks were flushed.  
“Cubic Zirconia’s a very strange name for a gang leader,” David said.  He interlaced his fingers and pillowed the back of his head against it.  “Kind of weak.  If I were him, I’d go with Titanium.  Because Beta Carbon Nitride sounds kind of stupid.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“He got pretty angry when I asked if I can call him “C Zirc”.”
“I SAID I DIDN’T DO IT!”
David cocked his head to the side and waited.  The kid’s breathing was labored, his fists clenched.  His face another shade of red.  He looked like he was about to leap out of his seat.
“I WON’T GO TO PRISON FOR NO ONE!”


“Bingo,” Bellany said.  “Not even 10 minutes.  New record?”
“Irritating the shit out of a suspect into a confession?  Hardly.” Montoya said, stretching.  “Dave does have a gift on eyeing precisely what unhinges suspects and have them emo-vomit enough to self incriminate.”
“Ahhh…” Richard said, his eyes wide with admiration as he stared at the screen.  
“You’ll get a hang of it with time,” Montoya said.  “Dave studied the kid’s crime pattern.  Some crimes are more personal and require more balls to pull off.  Carlos talks a lot of shit but most of his rap’s property crime.  A front.  Dave shook him up just by invading his personal space.”


“You know what?” David said, sitting up straighter in his chair.  “I know you didn’t do it.”
Carlos nodded furiously.  His fists curled so tight that they were shaking.
“You like to steal.  I don’t think you have it in you to kill someone.”
“Yes!”
“Your prints’ on the gun because CZ expected you to take the fall.  He handed you the gun after he did the shooting didn’t he?”
Carlos stilled. Uncertain how he should answer.
“I can’t promise you won’t do time but I can assure you that you will side step the murder rap if you tell me the truth right now.  Every single detail,”  David leans in again, his voice softened.  “I’m your only friend right now.”
Carlos chewed on his lower lip.  With his street façade gone, he looked like a junior high schooler.  
“I know you are having second thoughts.  That if you drop the dime on CZ, the rest of the gang’s going to skin you alive.  What do you think will happen to you in prison? You did a couple of months in jail.  
Country club.  You’ll die in prison.  Deal with me now and maybe you’ll pull time in jail out in Long Island, then you are free to disappear.  Start over.  You’re young.”
Carlos held his head down and stared at his hands.  David looked up at the camera in the corner and gave it a wink.  For awhile, neither spoke.
“What is your dignity worth?” David said.  “You can follow the code and be disposable, do time for CZ and probably die before you are half way through the sentence.  Or you can do the right thing, for yourself and others and get away from this shit.  What you choose to do next will change your life or ruin it.”
The words hung heavily.  David didn’t wait this time.  He stood up, gathering the notebook to him.
“Wait…” The kid looked up.   “If I tell you everything, you will help me right?”
“To serve and protect,” David said with a smile.
“Then…. I’ll tell you everything…”

Came up with a mini comic skit (4-frame deal) that we can't do (time factor - we are knee deep in HARM now). So I'll post the script while it is still technically relevant.

----
David: (peeks into Katsuya's office. He is in full uniform.)

Katsuya: (leans back in his chair) You got into trouble with Captain again, right?

David: I'm dressed up for Halloween.

Katsuya: .....

David: And I'll also play the part as a patrolman to go with the uniform.

Katsuya: ....

David: And patrol on foot in the housing area.

Katsuya: ....

David: (hangs head) Yeah, he's pissed at me again.

Spoiler for end of Father Figure. References to NY Minute's PREY.  No warning.

Written as an exercise, not connected to any pending work. 

            “How are you doing?” Katsuya said, his voice gentle - same tone as always whenever he spoke to Gabriel, as if a voice any louder would shatter the brittle man. 

            Gabriel only nodded.  He was standing by the window – his once imposing frame now a thin outline.  His lips’ were pale and cracked, the luster of his skin gone. Under the unforgiving Halogen lights that hid nothing, he looked terrible. He looked like a man barely alive. 

            “They tell me you’ve stopped eating again,” Katsuya said as he sat down on the chair beside the bed.  “Sit down and talk to me?”

            Katsuya patted the bedside.  After a few moments of contemplation, Gabriel shuffled over to it and sat down. Gabriel had lost more weight since he last saw him only a week before, so much so that his eyes appeared to be bigger.

            “I don’t want to take any more drugs,” Gabriel finally said.  His voice was small, almost child-like. “It won’t make me better.”

            “It will help you – “

            “No, it won’t help me get better,” Gabriel said, louder.  “And it makes me forget Father.”

            The large eyes were glossy and rimmed with collecting tears.

            “I sleep and sleep and wake up …. Then I don’t remember Father.”

            The first tear rolled out from the corner of his eye, trickling down the steep slope of his cheek.  The droplet hung at this chin for a second before it fell.

            “Will you help me? Please make them stop….” Gabriel said, his voice drifting into a whisper as he spoke.  His body shook and he squeezed his eyes shut.  There were sobs caught in Gabriel’s throat, like a child who didn’t know how to stop the emotions from coming out.  He was crying – the kind that was heartbreaking to hear and see.  Katsuya stood and took Gabriel into his arms.

            “I won’t lie to you and tell you that the medication will make you better,” Katsuya said softly – an odd contrast to Gabriel’s sobs.  “But for you to move beyond this pain, you have to let go of your Father.”

            Katsuya ran a hand through Gabriel’s hair, calming him.  “He wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

            Gabriel’s arms came up and looped around Katsuya’s waist. His hands seized fistfuls of Katsuya’s shirt.  The side of his face was still pressed against Katsuya’s chest.  His sobbing had subsided but tears were still flowing, wetting the shirt.

            “I wish…we had more days together,” Gabriel said with a shaky voice.  “I wish…he could tell me again and again how much he loves me… I wish…”

            Gabriel took in a breath and let it out.  When he spoke again, his voice wasn’t quivering anymore.

            “Every day that goes by, I forget a little bit more what he sounds like… what he looks like… I think it is worse than dying, to wake up one day and not remember him…”

            “I understand,” Katsuya said.  “But you have to want to exist more than just for those few memories.  You are still young.  Your father’s last wish was for you to live on, remember?”

            “I don’t want anything… I don’t want my life…. But I need him in my mind, like I need air.  If he left me…”

            Gabriel choked down the sobs that threatened to come up again.

            “Will you take me to see him? Bring him home so you can visit him any time you feel you are forgetting him?”

            There was no response to his question.  Katsuya didn’t expect an answer.  Gabriel would still cling to Uriel.  But perhaps Gabriel would exchange a fading memory for something else.  It was a long shot.

            “I can’t,” came the reply. Gabriel loosen his arms around Katsuya and leaned back.  He wiped at his damp cheeks with his sleeves.

            Katsuya only nodded. He sat back down on the chair. 

            “Will you tell me some day?”

            Gabriel stared at the ring on his finger. Quiet. Katsuya waited patiently.

            “Some day…” Gabriel said without looking up.  “When I need to be with him.”

            “That’s not what I want,” Katsuya said.  He placed a hand over Gabriel’s.  “I want you to remember what your father wanted you to be … a good man.  To be alive.”

            “I’m not,” Gabriel said.  He looked up – his eyes still bloodshot and wet.  “I’m not a good person.  I’ve never been.  I’m only alive because I’m a coward.  When the day comes that I have enough courage to be with Father, I will tell you everything.  But now…I don’t want to lose him.”

            “You never did.”

            “Father taught me how to ride the bike,” Gabriel said, as his voice hitched to a happy tone.  A smile appeared as he spoke, although tears continued to flow.  “A black and blue dirt bike that we got in a garage sale.  We worked on it for days.  I fell down over and over again but that was still better than having training wheels. I can’t be seen with those things. And Father kept on picking me up over and over again…”

            Katsuya listened intently, unflinching.

            “Mother was so angry.  I’ve ripped up the pants and ruined the shirt.  But I was so happy because I could ride a few feet without falling down.”

            “Gabriel,” Katsuya said, after a long pause that followed.  He stood up. “I’ll make adjustments to your medication.”

            “Thank you,” Gabriel said. The smile still lingered on his face.

            “I’ll come back and talk to you later today,” Katsuya said.  “You have to promise me that you will eat and drink, okay?”

            A nod. 

            “If they tell me you won’t…”

            “I will,” Gabriel said quickly. 

            Katsuya patted Gabriel on the shoulder and left the room.  He was greeted by David who stood at the doorway of the connecting observation room with a grimace.

            “What was that?” David asked.

            “The drug's not doing what it’s suppose to do,” Katsuya said.  “His psychosis is unchanged. If anything, he's gotten worse.”

            “Where does that leave me?”

            Katsuya sighed and gestured for David to step back into the observation room.  He closed the door behind them.

            “If you would like my off-the-record honest assessment, you won’t have a case,” Katsuya said, looking through the two-way mirror at Gabriel.  “Ever.”

            “So he becomes the tax payers’ burden until he dies?”

            “Yes."

            Gabriel remained where Katsuya left him.  He was no longer crying but he was staring through the window fixedly – frozen, as if he was focused on some unseen thing  that had mesmerized him.

            “He is replacing people from his childhood memories with his father.  An older neighborhood boy was the one who taught him how to ride the bike.  It’s a form of psychological self-defense. The pain of loss was unbearable.  So…”

            “So his insanity is caused by his psychological defense against going insane?” David said.

            “Yes.  It’s a common response to trauma, to fabricate a new reality. But Gabriel is stuck in a loop that I don't think he'll ever be able to get out of.  Usually, your psyche can regain semblance of normality once the source of trauma is removed and the time away from it diminishes the impact.”

            “And fixing his drug intake will do what? Prolong his fantasies?”

            Katsuya let out a sigh.

            “I can only continue to provide therapy and hope he'll want to tell me where Uriel is without it being a dying declaration. The medication…if it is really messing with his long term memory as he said, has to be adjusted or even the memory of where he buried Uriel will go with it.”

            They both looked at Gabriel quietly for a while.

            “You seem to be very emotionally involved with Gabriel and this case,” David said, breaking the silence.  

            Katsuya smiled and looked at David. 

            “I’m emotionally vested in all my patients, Detective.”

            “I'll make sure I have you to take care of me when the day comes that I can only get turned on when I'm carrying a gun.”

            Katsuya’s smile broadened.

            “Sexual deviancy’s not one of my specialties,” he said.

            “Who said anything about treatment?”

            It took Katsuya a few moments to process the comment and David’s grin. He wasn’t certain why, but it made him laugh – a welcome break from the tension that had been tying knots in his belly since morning. 

            “Just keep your gun holstered, Detective,” Katsuya said.  “And you'll be fine.”

 

Happy belated Birthday, J.-san.  I've put this part in prose (with originally drafted scenes that didn't make the final Manga cut).  Thank you for being such a wonderful cheerleader - giving me so much reasons to write even more. Hope this little piece will do for now. I promise I will bring Mr. Lynch back soon.

Not beta'ed, corrected, etc. Forgive the mistakes please :D

            There was a promise of a warm cup of coffee.  Perhaps an early breakfast.  There weren’t any more expectations besides company on that Christmas day.  At least that was what Katsuya had thought.             

            David’s apartment was warm, as soon as they stepped into it.  Katsuya went in first.  The light was snapped on behind him.  He stood a couple of steps into his friend’s place – very different from his own.  He looked to his right then to his left – studying the new environment with curiosity.  Katsuya was drawn back into his reality when David’s hands rested on his shoulders.

            “Let me take your coat,” David said. 

            Katsuya let the coat slip off his shoulders.  Vaguely, he heard his coat and scarf pool on the polished wood flooring.  He didn’t even recall much else when David wound his arms around him.  The warmth of another human being, wrapped around him - it was a sensation that he hadn’t realized he missed, until then.

            “I’m glad you are here,” David said.  His voice was uncharacteristically soft.  “You would have broken my heart if you turned me down again.”

            Katsuya leaned into David’s embrace.

            “I never turned you down,” Katsuya said, turning to look at David.  He gave David a kiss on the lower lip.  “You just didn’t ask me the right way.”

0000000

            Peripherally, Katsuya looked at the trail of his clothing and shoes scattered on the floor – from the doorway, through the living room and onto the topside of the bed.  David’s gun belt with the 9mm was still strapped in its holster and half hung off the bedside chair.  Katsuya’s shirt was held together by the last two buttons. His pants was undone and barely hung onto his hips.  David’s uniform was still on.  Its crisp, starch-iron fabric felt harsh against Katsuya’s bare skin.  Katsuya couldn’t complain.  He had been the one who had asked David to keep his uniform on.

            Katsuya was pulled back into another kiss.  Katsuya gave himself into it, letting David devour him – as the cop writhed against him, hard.  Katsuya gripped a handful of David’s erection, tracing the shape of it through his pants.

            “Have you…been with a man?” David said into his mouth.

            The question sounded absurd and Katsuya nearly laughed. 

            “A little late asking me this now?” Katsuya said.

            “You know what I mean.”

            “Yes,” Katsuya finally said, taking a gentle bite against David’s lower lip.  “But this is the first time I really want it…”

            The confused grimace that came over David’s face then nearly spoiled the mood.  Katsuya took a hold of David’s tie, not allowing him to back away.

            “Don’t think about it,” Katsuya continued and leaned in for another kiss.  “All that matters is now.”

            It was that quick; with few words and David’s thoughts were forgotten.  He slipped his hands under Katsuya’s shirt – the skin there firm yet soft.  David was reminded briefly then, how much younger Katsuya was to him. 

            “Tell me what you want me to do,” David said, his breath hitched.  His body still pinned Katsuya against the wall and it already know what it wanted.  But he needed to hear it.

            Katsuya let go of the tie.  His hands slipped down, sliding along David’s silhouette down to the belt line – stopping short of the bulge that was straining against the uniform.  He leaned in, smiled and said it into David’s ear.    

000000

            He hadn’t any idea of the time or even where he was, when he made himself wake from the haze.  There’s an interesting sensation that was still resonating throughout his body.  Not quite pleasant but not exactly pain either.  He was sore, he realized.  And he wasn’t in his own bed.

            Katsuya’s eyes opened to a room that wasn’t his.  He had been lying on his stomach – naked and half buried under the sheets.  He blinked – finally registering everything at one moment when he saw the gun belt with its holster and clip casing emptied, slung over the chair.  He squinted until he could read the clock.

            3:07 AM.

            There was a note tucked under that clock.  Katsuya stared at it for awhile, until he could muster enough energy to push himself up and crawl over to fetch it.

            The note had a poorly drawn Santa’s head and a brief message.

            On call.  Help yourself to anything in the house.  Wait for me.  We haven’t done all of the gift exchanging yet. 

            Katsuya read the note a few more times before slipping it back onto the night stand.  In spite of aches; he felt good.  He left the comfortable warmth of the bed and walked toward the window.  Gingerly, he pulled up the venetian blind until he can look out of the snow-washed scenery before him.  The window looked out over a playground that was behind the apartment complex.  He could vaguely make out the shapes of the jungle gym and swings that were coated by snow.  It was still snowing.  And it was so quiet that he could hear the twinkling of the snow flakes.  In the distance, he could see colorful dots of the Christmas lights from the windows of other apartments.

            He could feel the smile on his face grow – pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

            Everything did change.  In a New York minute.

000

            I got lost in the night, without the light of your eyelids,

            And when the night surround me 

            I was born again: I was the owner of my own darkness

            -Pablo Neruda

While ITW6 is still in progress amidst of chaos that is Jo's life, we are aware that ITW7 may not be out by end of May as we projected.  But we also don't want to be empty handed at Fanime either.  So, going off from a survey from looooong ago about what kind of side story would interest people from FB, a portion said they would be interested in Katsuya's backstory.  Although we planned quite a few of them, they are in the ITW timeframe and we couldn't post them until more of the story's revealed.  Pre-ITW time frame of Katsuya in NY was an interesting discovery we've had.  The character David had good feedbacks (maybe because he's not an asshole and he genuinely liked Katsuya... not in the unreciprocated way as seen in ITW).  Developing a story pre-ITW avoids any kind of spoiler, which is a plus.  However, we are still working this character and can only hope David is up to par of carrying a story with Katsuya.

And Jo promised that David will be a very good looking. ^_-

So, this is part 1 of 2 of this unnamed story now that we are developing as an illustrated short story (it may be up to 20-25 pages) along with ITW liner notes and working sketches, etc.  We'd like to put this out as a companion with ITW vol. 1 manga DMI will be releasing then.  DavidXKatsuya pairing's also a focus for us for Summer Comiket,  We would like for you to read this (and NY Minute if you haven't already -- link HERE ).  We want to gauge general interest in this pairing and the storyline since this is very different from ITW.  Katsuya's also younger and not as jaded.  Not quite a queen yet.  More of a princess.

You can send us comments via the LJ or email if you don't want to leave it here.  At this point, we just want to collect information from our readers on this storyline.  At the least, we want to fix characterizations if Krause or Katsuya read very irritating.  The 'squishy romance', as one of my friends called it - I hope wasn't too much either.  Well, I didn't think so.  I've seen more make-out at a grocery store.  

Belated Happy Birthday to asano_sensei

  

Gift art from Angel ~ <3  Shino's got his date secured tonight!

Thank you to you lovelies who'd sent me V-Day messages and e-gifts. Really made my day! Jo and I HOPE to do something short and sweet tomorrow (it's still 45 min to the 14th here). Schedule depending if I'm detained by work or Jo detained...by the usual. 

For now, here's a cute 2 page Q by our friend Kahira.  There's 2 more strips like this that will be published in the English Version of the ITW in May as extras. Hope these at least will make you smile.

Although the paro is based from a scene in ITW5, it doesn't contain any spoilers. The panels are numbered but they do read from right column first.

  

Bottom Q reads: "So much cheaper and easier to just kidnap him..."

Such a wonderful thing, to come home to another heart!! <3

Thank you lumcheng  ~ hope you have a wonder V-day too!

*3*