tampered | log: Seishirou and Oriya [ongoing]

Current Mood: determined
Current Music: Portishead - Revenge of the Number

log: Seishirou and Oriya [ongoing]

When; Evening, 9 January.
Rating; PG-13 (for now).
Characters; Miibu Oriya (

kyotodollmaster), Sakurazuka Seishirou (

sakurazuka_san).
Summary; A keen interest in Muraki Kazutaka's disappearance leads these two strangers closer to investigating the mystery. Following this thread.
Log;

The whole night reeked of something from a whodunit novella. Strangely, though, while it should have bored him mercilessly, Seishirou had taken an interest as of late to the "good doctor" (as Tatsumi-kun had called the man at large). The crimes that the shinigami had accused this man, Muraki Kazutaka, of committing and the power he had been attributed to was quite an interesting thing to note.

The Sakurazukamori was an agent of equilibrium. And with Muraki, the scales appeared tipped to his favour.

He had luckily remembered the flat number that Muraki had told him a while back. First flat in building four, he had recalled. The door had been unlocked - an oddity. When Seishirou had flipped a light switch on, his sight caught the true clutter of the place. Quite a few books were piled into stacks at the side of the spacious sofa and at the computer desk. Articles of clothing, although not numerous, were scattered about on the furniture, and various pieces of paper littered the coffee table and the carpeting underneath it. A fevered mind seemed at work within the organised chaos, and it seemed as though Muraki had rushed out the door as soon as he could afford to. That certainly would have explained the unlocked door...

Seishirou scanned the room with sharp amber eyes as he stepped over to the bookshelf. Perhaps the titles would lend clues, but, sadly, it seemed as though the doctor had a wide range of interests. Certainly there had to be an indication of the man's train of thought in his last moments within the apartment. He'd be damned if he would leave without the proper evidence.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The conversation had left him mildly unsettled. Muraki had the nasty habit of disappearing on them when he least expected it, offering little to no explanation as to where he was going or why and refusing any sort of protest, but this was odd even for him.

Then again, if he thought about it, it was strange anyway. Muraki had been acting rather aloof, and ever the perceptive being- Oriya never missed when his friend was tense. But out of that silent respect he needed to keep around his friend to maintain his sanity, Oriya hadn't commented on it.

Nothing good came out of it anyway, when Muraki would only leave him guessing.

He'd lingered in his room for a while, before stepping out and stared in surprise when he saw the door to Muraki's apartment opened. Eyes narrowing, the owner of the O-chaya walked in, pushing the door with a hand and sensing another's presence wasn't too hard here..

Which was what left him to move in and casting an eye over the mess around him and the disturbance that just entered, he then focused his attention on the person who was in here and his jaw tightened.

"I don't remember Muraki ever telling me anyone was welcome in his private quarters." his voice was soft, but at an edge. He did NOT like the idea that someone was here before him, intruding on his best friend's privacy.

Seishirou paused as his stare lingered over a book entitled Sex Signs and he slyly looked over his shoulder to the doorway. Sure, he could detect that edge within the other man's voice, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it yet. Instead, he smiled genially and turned about to address the other pleasantly. If he were to make this work to his favour, he certainly had to be pleasant and sweet.

"Ah, Miibu Oriya-san, correct?" he asked as he stepped forward. "I apologise, but the door was unlocked. I merely let myself in to find something of use." He looked Oriya over quickly and then took another look about the room. Certainly, he knew why Muraki would choose Oriya as a consort - beauty always was something one could never decline to be around. "I do apologise - I had no idea you were so protective of his personal area," he muttered casually as he continued looking around the apartment.

Oriya did not like the easy way with which the man who he now recognised as Sakurazuka Seishirou was making himself welcome in Muraki's things. A part of him was annoyed at the fact that Muraki had met with someone who just.. thought himself of the equal level of himself. Muraki wasn't one to make friends unnecessarly and while he highly doubted he considered Seishirou one, the fact that he was concerned enough to be here made him twitch inside.

It was mildly childish of him, but that thought also had it's own basis- coming from the fact that Muraki had much to hide that shouldn't be shared with anyone.

"Seishirou-san." It wasn't a greeting, merely acknowledgement. The man was charming in appearance, very Muraki-like.. and oh how similar their auras went. "In the owner's absence, I would hope that next time you feel it comfortable to walk into someone's home, that you respect protocol and ask the permission of the people who would be responsible for their living space."

He folded his arms across his chest. "What were you looking for? Perhaps I can find it for you." Which was mildly translatable to 'Get the hell out of his things before I give you trouble.'

"Hm.... Does Muraki-sensei typically leave his door unlocked?" he asked, staring at it quickly before he moved on to examine the leaves of paper that were scattered about the coffee table and the surrounding floor. "Surely he's not quite this messy, is he?" Seishirou plopped down on the sofa with a strange sense of ease as he examined the way the paper sheets were laid out. It almost looked as though a few of them were tossed about in frustration... but underneath those sheets were a rather neatly laid-out set of papers with what appeared to be scribbles. Certainly...

With a delicate hand, he removed the chaotic mess of papers to reveal the other sheets. Muraki had been keeping up with the times, it seemed - the previous victims of the Red Guard each had their own sheet with what looked like detailed information. "Isn't that interesting..." He smiled to himself enigmatically. A vigilante? And yet, from what he had been told through conversations with Xulchilbara, Muraki fit the description. Tatsumi-san had helped fuel his suspicions...

How strange of the one needing judgement to seek the executioner.

"Not normally." His patience was wearing thin with the way Seishirou continued to trespass where he shouldn't. While he wasn't aware of what Muraki was doing (he never asked unless Muraki told him himself), he didn't like the fact that the other was making himself welcome where he shouldn't be.

What if there was something Muraki didn't want -him- to see?

His movements may have seemed casual at that moment, but he did move with a planned destination in mind. That being right in front of Seishirou and he moved his hand, taking a hold of the sheets the other held and in a swift motion, pulling them back into his to look at them. He had done this enough times to Muraki to be able to avoid snatch-backs and his own eyes roved over the text, a sinking feeling in his chest as he looked at the contents.

"Interesting or not, I shall request you don't touch anything here. Unless.." he turned towards Seishirou, bronze eyes calculative and thoughtful.

"You know something about this?" he held the sheets of paper before him, his gaze mildly scrutinizing.

Somehow, now, Seishirou had a small idea of the connection between Muraki and the Red Guard's victims. There was the obvious (to him, at least) - Muraki seemed a fitting company for the group of victims, who were nothing more than names and statistics written on sheets of paper. But, then again, no one else seemed to suspect that parallel. And certainly the doctor himself had no prior knowledge to his own execution. The element of surprise.... the Red Guard thrived on suspense.

Surely there was a reason that Muraki had a certain interest in those events. And this man, Seishirou noted with a sly glance to Oriya, would perhaps give him that missing link.

"Those persons he detailed on those papers," he stated clearly as his eyes fixed upon the sheets that the other man now held, "are victims of Xulchilbara's executioner. That should be obvious if you keep abreast of current news about the city." Something told Seishirou that the chance of this man keeping current was about as likely as him tossing aside that traditional kimono. He eyed Oriya with a pensive stare, and again he rose to his feet to look about the flat.

"He hasn't mentioned a reason why he's taken interest in those judgements, has he?" he asked quickly and looked over his shoulder at the other. "A possible motive? I'm certain that there must be a reason for such information to be lying about here."

Having been around Muraki for as long as he had been close to him, Oriya had learned never to trust responding to anyone who had those eyes directly. The hold on the papers tightened when Seishirou mentioned keeping in time with the latest news- honestly he could care less. It wasn't that he didn't believe it was entirely important, but the fact that it didn't concern him.

Not until this, anyway.

He had been aware of Muraki's behavior all this time, as well as the coincidence of it being when this Red Guard was 'judging' people. Another glance towards the papers he held instantly drew him into the conclusion he required- something was up between them, and something had either interested or disturbed Muraki about this Xuchilbara.

It couldn't be good.

And the reason for Muraki's taking notes on the victims suddenly seemed more clearer. However, ot sure if he was on the right track, Oriya turned around fist, tapping the papers against the desk and delayed replying by pretending to organize them.

Then after a while, he muttered, "Muraki collects information on what he finds interesting. This could be one of those things." his voice was calm, and had it a face, it'd be his poker-face voice which he used to protect his clients with.

"But to collect all of this.. " he held the sheets again, turning to face Seishirou with a small smirk. "He was probably trying to figure out who the executioner's next victim would be."

How close to the truth that was, he wasn't sure. But even if it was, he was mildly tempted to make sure Seishirou died trying if he wanted to learn it.

Interesting turn in bringing the conversation under the other's control. Seishirou smirked a little at the irony of Oriya's chosen words. The next victims, certainly, had room within the ranks for Muraki. He chose to hide that look from Oriya and, instead, continued examining the scores of books that the doctor possessed. If given the space, he was certain, Muraki Kazutaka could fill a library with his diverse collection.

"What need would he have for that piece of information?" he asked casually as he dug out a pack of cigarettes from within his grey blazer. "He is a man of action, or so I'd believe..." Without mentioning his sources or launching into a request, he pulled a cigarette out and placed it between his lips. The craving struck, and usually when it did, it struck hard. It almost seemed a magic trick for him to pocket the cigarettes and then produce a lighter.

As soon as the cigarette was lit, the stream of silver smoke that resulted curled lazily in the air about him while he took to leaning against the tall bookshelf that seemed merely to contain a small fraction of the tomes the doctor owned. "But, you tell me. You know Muraki-sensei well, I'm certain." He expected cooperation. He demanded control. Who would be uncooperative with someone aiding an investigation to find a dear friend?

"Morbid curiousity. Personal pleasure. He would know best." he really wasn't feeling up to answering Seishirou anything he wanted to know easily, and ignoring the smoking, he moved about, picking up the strewn things and beginning to set them in their proper places. The fact that Muraki was this disorganized meant that something.. important or disturbing had come up and the fact that it had at all disturbed Muraki was disturbing in it's own right.

"I've been his friend since his school days." he grumbled, dusting off the cover of a book as he set the papers back into it. "I know why he breathes in a certain way." The irony of that didn't strike him quite then, and once he was sure he had mostly everything off the floor, he began to arrange the shelves to place them back, obviously wanting something to do beside paying the vet any special attention.

"What concern is it to you, Seishirou-san?"

He looked on as Oriya seemed to compulsively straighten the flat up to the best of his abilities. Friends, indeed. Seishirou eyed the other man with a scrutinising glance as he took another drag from his cigarette; if such a partnership aided such an ease of movement about Muraki Kazutaka's apartment that Oriya seemed a second tenant, then certainly he and Muraki were far closer than one would have thought. Not that it concerned Seishirou at all - it was just as Oriya had said.

"Oh, morbid curiosity," he replied to Oriya's interrogation with a chuckle. Two could play that game. "You see, I just found it rather suspicious that a doctor can vanish off the face of the earth without even so much as raising a brow or two... Surely, you noticed before I contacted you?" Now he wanted to know just how... close he and Muraki Kazutaka-sensei actually were. Then again, one didn't have to lay everything on the table to be close to another person...

What was surprising about this entire situation was that Oriya wasn't involved with Muraki in that way. He'd grown past the needless wanting and needing to have his feelings returned by the doctor who was probably as emotionally constipated as a rock, and he'd learned to accept what he had as something that would never change.

The fact that he was doing this much for Muraki was only a part of his own compulsive need to be tidy and presentable, something he mostly always encouraged (despite how lethargic he often got himself) and his eyes narrowed briefly as the other spoke. He'd dealt with enough people to detect scrutiny when he heard it and he pushed some books back into place as he sorted the shelves.

"It's a habit of his. He has work, he disappears without telling anyone. Rather selfish, but those are the breaks." he replied cooly. Though there was no denying the underlying tone of worry he attempted to hide, but damned he'd be if he revealed it.

"He usually returns when he -needs- something." he scoffed mildly, though he didn't mean it in a bitter way.. that was the only assurance he had that Muraki would return.

A sudden chill ran down his spine, and he stilled, feeling as though something terrible had happened, and trying to ignore it, he went about arranging Muraki's desk next, the room much tidier now.

"Though certain evidence makes me wonder." he murmured. "He'd better not be getting himself into another mess."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

log: Seishirou and Oriya [ongoing]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject