Here begins Day 1 of the 12 Days of Witchyness.
This story in its entirety is dedicated to noyourenotreal on Tumblr. It wouldn't exist otherwise and I am eternally grateful.
Warnings: graphic depictions of crime scenes, dead bodies, ways a person can be murdered, something akin to early-canon Inuyasha's personality, and a hell of a lot of swearing. While I have researched extensively for this story (literal hours-long research on published journals regarding the pathology of bullet wounds and stab wounds, multiple YouTube videos studying body decomposition, the best ways to slowly bleed someone to death, lab procedure, you get the picture, etc.) I am not, in fact, a forensic pathologist, detective or assassin. I tried my best, and I hope you enjoy. Additional warnings may be added as necessary.
Prologue: Common Fucking Sense
It had happened. Finally, finally—
A goddamn fucking murder.
Inuyasha Taisho stormed towards the police tape. The lights off the cruisers painted shadows across the street, blue and red intermittent flashes. There were cops everywhere, a mixture of fresh faces exhausted from the late hour and more senior staff, alert but bored.
It always made him roll his eyes. There was nothing boring about a murder.
He approached the yellow tape and ducked underneath. He started to count in his head and got to 4 when one of the cops finally yelled at him. Again. Like he had a face that was forgettable or something. Idiots, all of them.
"Consulting detective," he spat out, already feeling his irritation build. He hadn't even seen the crime scene yet. What a fucking waste of his time. The same song and dance, over and over. The cop would be as bright as a burnt-out bulb and he'd have to roll his eyes and insult them before they were fed up enough to call for help. Useless, the lot of them.
And oh, he had clearly won the lottery because two cops blocked his path. A male, demon, scowl in place, standing a little too closely to the female, human, who looked terrified. Her first day. Dear fucking lord, help him.
"ID," the female cop stated, words firm. At least she faked her confidence with something akin to passable. Still, fucking irritating to all hell. Couldn't he just get to the murder—
"I'm Inuyasha Taisho and I'm the consulting detective on this case," he explained, holding on to his temper with both hands. "Detective Tsujitani is expecting me."
The other cop smirked. "There's no such thing as a consulting detective."
"Yeah but there is. It's just as real as your demotion two weeks ago. No, last week," he corrected, watching the demon's eyes narrow. "That's what happens when you hit the bottle too hard and blame anything but your affair on the reason your marriage ended." Inuyasha sniffed and glared at the other cop, who was – predictably, god they always were so predictable – holding the walkie-talkie at her ear with an expression of shock. "Well?"
"He said you can go in," was all she said.
"Fucking finally," he breathed out and moved beyond them.
The building he headed to was old, at least forty years. Marred and stained with mud and graffiti. A sign hung crookedly over a window: an auto mechanic shop, and in his estimation abandoned five years ago. Standing in the doorway of said shop was one Detective Miroku Tsujitani. Young, mostly professional. Acceptable at his job. He valued Inuyasha's input, more than any other detective at the precinct. He was charismatic, quick to smile and good with people. In the past twenty-six months of them working together, he'd had sex with at least a hundred people. All casual, likely due to his abandonment issues. It caused far more drama than needed with his usual partner, Detective Houko, whom he clearly loved.
It was a disaster, really. Predictable and boring.
"I was expecting you?" Miroku asked, mouth curved in a half-smile.
Inuyasha rolled his eyes and pushed his way past him. "Obviously."
"That was sarcasm, Inuyasha!"
Ignoring the quip, Inuyasha headed towards the back of the building. It was where the main garage connected, and where a gathering of forensic techs stood. "Why the hell would you keep a murder investigation from me?"
"First of all," Miroku stated, eyebrows high and clearly unimpressed, "we don't even know this is a murder. Secondly, how did you even know we were here? No one called you."
"I was in the neighbourhood."
The detective snorted. "Uh huh."
Inuyasha stopped at the entrance to the room that was clearly being investigated. Forensic techs were suited up, photographing markers and collecting evidence. The garage itself seemed normal. Hard concrete floors, cracked and shifted with age. Pipes ran along the ceiling, some holding old coiled hoses with rusted ends. On the furthest end of the garage were two lifts, the metal structure tarnished and untouched. At first glance, it appeared to be just as advertised: an abandoned garage. No signs of distress. No blood. "What happened?" he asked.
That smile of Miroku's was back, mischievous. "Sure you don't want to deduce it?"
"How about you fuck off?"
"Thought so." The detective sighed. "We received a call a few hours ago—"
"Four hours and three minutes ago," Miroku answered, giving in before Inuyasha could bother him with the same demand all over again. Inuyasha glared; he wouldn't have to insist if the detective just spoke concisely. "Some suspicious kids – a lot of graffiti has been coming up in the area as of late. All you've got to do is look at the front of this building to see it. Anyways, officers Sen and Nishio were sent to check it out. The door was wide open so they went inside. That's when Nishio smelled it."
Inuyasha wrinkled his nose, detecting the trikelchlorite himself. Faint, but unmistakably there. Where regular bleach had its trademark scent, trikelchlorite was more like ozone, the moment before a downpour. The techs near him were prepping the luminol with the peroxide, clearly getting ready to understand the scene around them. Trikelchlorite contained copper which allowed for the chemiluminescence that would present once sprayed with the luminol – it's main differentiating factor from normal bleach. "And?"
"He said he smelled trikelchlorite. A lot of it." Before Inuyasha could say or do anything – like raise his eyebrows in suspicion – the detective continued. "Nishio's a bear demon."
Ah. Bear demons had the greatest scent detection of any demon race. If this Officer Nishio said he smelled trikelchlorite, then he likely did. It had taken Inuyasha years to refine the scent of it himself and even still, in a room that was apparently drenched in it, he could barely notice it. "How strong was it to him?"
"Apparently he could smell it the moment he stepped inside." Miroku checked his notes.
So, relatively fresh or overwhelmingly used. Trikelchlorite was a specific kind of bleach that was meant to be virtually undetectable to demons. Well, demons that didn't have an extremely heightened sense of smell. To a bear demon, it would be like he was standing in the midst of a storm. Still, the smell of trikelchlorite shouldn't have been enough to bring out forensics, which meant there had been a clue.
"Where is it?" Inuyasha asked, trying not to be irritated. Miroku was a decent detective but he tended to make Inuyasha work for it, if he could. Hiding evidence just to see how close he would get on his own.
Smiling – always goddamn smiling, the imbecile – Miroku gestured to one of the techs in the garage and asked for the bag. It took only a moment, but the glint was the first thing to register. Green, bright. Quite large. Miroku pushed back his black bangs as he handed the bag of evidence over to him, letting a tiny bit of exhaustion show. "Nishio found this in one of the cracks in the corner."
A ring. Simple in the band, with a clawed inset that held a large emerald. Valued at approximately $1,600, based on the cut, but he'd have to inspect further to validate it. What was easily evident though was the dried blood, crusted in the tiny divots. This. This. Combined with the use of trikelchlorite and the location, something had happened here.
"Don't look so happy," Miroku said, frowning. Inuyasha continued to ignore him, opening the bag to scent it. Definitely blood, though old. The trikelchlorite wasn't as fresh then, meaning the dosage was higher. A lot of bleach to cover a lot of blood.
He sealed the bag once more and let the ring move around, inspecting the inside of the band. Oh, how terribly basic.
"What?" he snapped, shoving the bag back into the detective's hands and stepping back into the doorway to the main garage. The luminol was in the process of being sprayed but only one the outer corners. Still, a few techs glared at him, hands up to stop him from entering. Fine then. He didn't need to come in. He let his eyes roam over the scene from afar, checking the floor, the walls, the ceiling.
"This isn't necessarily a murder."
"Of course it's a murder," Inuyasha replied, unable to hide the disdain in his voice.
"We haven't found any traces of blood, minus the ring."
"That's what the trikelchlorite was for, obviously." Rolling his eyes, he pointed to the techs. "Tell them to focus underneath that pipeline there, in the ceiling. That's where you'd find it."
"Continue to waste my time? I'm aware. I'm giving them fifteen minutes." Inuyasha gave one last look at the garage before heading outside.
The detective groaned behind him but Inuyasha paid it no mind. There were better things to do, like finding Officer Nishio. A bear demon wouldn't be too hard to find, though the bustle of cops around would make it more challenging. The terrible lighting that a three am crime scene provided made it harder to see faces, but bear demons were characteristically much larger than any human. It took some tracking but eventually he was able to find the man, standing by his partner near the furthest edge of the tape barrier. The familiarity of their stances and the angles of their bodies were simple enough to deduce from.
It also proved something else.
"Office Nishio?" Inuyasha asked, staring up at the cop. "I have a few questions for you."
The bear demon narrowed his red eyes but it wasn't him who spoke. His partner did, a bulky human with too much hair and not enough brains. "And who are you?"
"Consulting detective," he replied, holding back a tired sigh. Every time. Every damn time. "Why did you–"
"That's not a real thing," Officer Sen pointed out, frowning.
One day, Inuyasha was going to throttle someone and Detective Miroku Tsujitani wouldn't be able to do anything about it. "Let me make myself really fucking clear: there are three people standing here and only one of them is actually smart. The other is quasi-intelligent at best while the last is a complete moron. Who do you think you are?"
Officer Sen scowled and took a heavy step forward when the bear demon interceded, putting his big arm in front of his partner. "Easy, Sen."
Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "Go and find Detective Tsujitani, will you? He'll verify, you'll be gone and we'll all be much happier for the next five minutes."
"Christ," Officer Nishio groaned. "You're a fucking prick, you know that?"
"Don't actually care." He waved as Officer Sen retreated, a smirk plastered to his face with the smuggest expression he could muster. "Well, now that the moron is gone, let's talk."
The bear demon growled. "Stop talking about my partner like that. I don't know where the hell you get off—"
"Oh god, shut up," Inuyasha snapped. "You think he's dumb, too. Why else would you have felt so confident lying to him about the graffiti call?" At the officer's blank look, Inuyasha held back a growl of his own. "Seriously? Keep up. The so-called 'call' you received to investigate this building is a load of bullshit. You know it. I certainly fucking know it. So why come here at all?"
Officer Nishio was shaking his head. "I didn't—"
"Jesus, never mind. You're dumber than your partner. At least he knows when he's beaten." Waving a sharp hand at the abandoned car shop behind him, he scowled. "This neighbourhood is strictly industrial. Every nearby shop closes promptly at five o'clock – even the goddamn Starbucks three blocks over closes at five. Which means by 6 PM this place is a ghost town. Add that to the fact that the graffiti on the wall here is at least three years old. The degradation of the paint and fading from the sun exposure is evidence enough. The call supposedly came in at around eleven pm, suggesting there were some idiots around spray painting. Well, that's bullshit. There's nothing fresh and no one around to see it and make a call. So I'll ask one last time or I'm going to tell Detective Tsujitani in no uncertain terms how you've falsified your statement: why come here at all?"
Blinking, horrified, the bear demon opened his mouth and then closed it. He swallowed, obviously processing everything he'd just been told. Inuyasha didn't hold back his sigh that time. "That's impossible," Officer Nishio stammered out.
"No, just common fucking sense."
"Shit, okay. Yeah, I made up the call. But it's not what you think. I have contacts all around the city, okay? A lot of contacts that don't want to be interrogated or questioned by police. They're vulnerable." Office Nishio held out a placating hand. "One of them saw something suspicious here, about a week ago. This was the earliest I could come and check it out. I've been chained to desk duty all week and every time I tried to get someone out here they were waylaid. I didn't think it would be anything, you know? I didn't worry about it. But then I smelled the trikelchlorite."
Humming, Inuyasha rubbed his hands together. "And what did they see?"
"A man, all in black with his face covered. He was carrying a bunch of stuff in and out, all of this around four in the morning. At one point, he was lugging something big, long and heavy."
A body. Inuyasha suppressed his smirk at the validity of his assessment. "And who is your homeless contact?"
Narrowing his eyes, Officer Nishio shook his head. "I never said they were homeless."
"Didn't have to." The two of them locked eyes, the bear demon sizing him up before blowing out a long breath. "Give me a name, Nishio."
Smirking, Inuyasha spun around on his heel and headed back towards the shop. He looked over his shoulder briefly and called out, "As this is officially a murder investigation, you'll need to come clean to Detective Tsujitani. I'll let you tell him. He won't appreciate it coming from me." Inuyasha had learned that the hard way last time. Whatever the bear demon said in response – if he said anything at all –didn't make it to his ears.
Officer Sen came bursting out of the doorway just before he got there, scowling for all he was worth and muttering a directed slur as he passed by. Nothing Inuyasha hadn't heard before. Nothing he hadn't heard at a crime scene before, even.
"There you are!" Miroku's arms were crossed. "I thought you wanted to see the luminol."
"Don't need to," he replied, shaking his head. "A big circle with the big pipe in the centre of it. Yeah?"
The detective pursed his lips. "Yeah."
"Missing the edges, where the ring was found."
"How did you—" With an explosive sigh, Miroku shook his head. "Never mind."
"It's the only thing that makes sense." Inuyasha peered into the room. The forensic techs we just turning the lights back on, the last remnants of luminol disappearing. "Can I step inside?"
Miroku sighed. "As long as you put on the booties, then yeah. I won't dare ask you to try the jumpsuit again."
Grunting, Inuyasha took the Tyvek material to cover his shoes and then entered the space for the first time, his golden eyes examining every surface. He lowered himself to the floor, sniffing delicately as he studied the cracks in the concrete. Eyes darting up, he took in the large central pipe once more. "I need a ladder."
"Of course you do."
"And the ring back." Inuyasha moved to examine the far corners of the room, hating the dampness of leftover luminol and oxidant. For the most part, the building was marred with age. The concrete was uneven and cracked in several places, loose chunks filling in crooked gaps. He took in the walls, examining for any kind of clue. There were two massive garage doors, one to the back and the other to the front. Both were chained and locked, though the hold was discoloured from rust. They hadn't been opened at any point though, clearly. He went back to where the pipe ran along the ceiling, standing underneath. Miroku was in the doorway, head-to-toe in protective equipment and watching him with interest. He was too used to this: Inuyasha's constant movement and ceaselessly roaming gaze.
"Move," Inuyasha demanded, gesturing with his hand to get out of the way.
Miroku rolled his eyes but did so. "Why?"
"Because." Inuyasha spun around completely then, taking in the back wall. He narrowed his eyes. "Where's my ladder?"
Inuyasha went towards the back window, bending in closely towards the frame of it. Yes, there. Tiny holes, like little pinpricks. He followed the trail around the majority of the window and then headed towards the only other exit – a single doorway, right beside the larger garage door. He inspected for the same thing. Then he dropped to the floor, shuffling along until he spotted what he was looking for. Ground down a little and quite small – new material then, black. Forensics would have missed this.
"Where do you want the ladder?" Miroku's voice barely filtered in. With a grunt, he pointed towards where he once stood. If they put it in the wrong spot – which was highly likely – he would just move it himself.
Standing up, the consultant scanned the walls once more, taking them in with a new eye from all that he had so far learned. If he was correct – and Inuyasha moved himself into the path of the doorway once more to be sure – then there would be…
A black stain. Half of a black stain. A perfect line, not possible to create if done organically so that meant there had to be— How would one dispose of—
"Idiot," Inuyasha hissed under his breath, irritated with himself. He'd only done a very cursory glance, not yet prepared to look into the underbelly of the mechanical lift. But now he moved there with purpose, no intention of actually going down but using his eyes to find what he was looking for. The temporary lighting the techs had put up didn't shine well in the hole but it should be an obvious sight—
Inuyasha smirked. Straightening himself out, he tugged on the bottom of his red leather jacket and moved to the ladder. Not terribly placed. Miroku was getting smarter at reading his grunts. "It was a good thing you called me," he stated, grabbing at the metal frame and shifting it over two feet.
Miroku huffed in annoyance. "I didn't."
It took only a moment to examine the pipe. It was old but still sturdy, though rusty as well. A severe lack of protection in the winter – poor insulation – caused moisture to wreck havoc on the materials come summer. And yes, the clear line and indent of strong metal rubbing against it…
"You would have felt really stupid if you hadn't called me for what is clearly an assassination."
One of the few forensic techs still in the room froze. Miroku simply looked dumbfounded. "Excuse me?" the detective asked, sounding incredulous. "Not even a fucking murder. You're calling this an assassination?"
"And a well done one, too. Professional. Likely ex-military."
It was becoming somewhat of a habit for the detective to put his hands over his eyes, like the darkness they provided would give him the strength needed to process such simple facts. Inuyasha didn't give him shit for it anymore, though apparently, he'd never been able to reign in his look of sheer derision. Miroku normally glared at him afterwards but this time he didn't even have the gall. He simply shook his head. "How the hell did you come up with that?"
"Observe." Inuyasha hopped off the ladder and waved his arms around the room. "There are clues everywhere if you would just take the time to pay them any attention."
"I don't see anything."
Inuyasha took in a large breath through his mouth, praying for patience. "The luminol confirmed the spread of the trikelchlorite, a circular design with this spot right here as the centre of it. The trikelchlorite would only have been used to bleach out blood, which meant the blood pooled here. None of the bleach was found on the walls, and no indentations in the walls indicating a gunshot. Could be blunt force, could be a stabbing. But the circle is massive – the killer bleached nearly this entire area."
He stared at the floor, images flashing in his mind of the scenarios as they worked themselves out. "An amateur would have just done the area in reckless swipes, not a perfect circle. Someone who has killed before. But someone who has killed before and has any ounce of intelligence would avoid leaving any trace evidence."
"So they used trikelchlorite on nearly the whole area," Miroku said, "and took away our evidence."
"Wrong." Inuyasha shook his head, hands gesturing in a circular motion to the floor. "Trikelchlorite is trace evidence. Proof of its usage. This is an industrial area, a lot of manual labour meaning a high demonic population. Trikelchlorite was necessary so using this much to cover a space indicates a lot of blood. Something happened or went wrong. This is a body's worth of blood."
Miroku paled. "Exsanguination?"
"Exactly and therefore, assassination." Inuyasha jerked his head up, looking to the pipe. "Clear indication of chain being wrapped several times around with a heavy load on it: a body. This area is notorious for how empty it is past working hours. It's all warehouses and manufacturing. Little lighting and humming from machines running during the night. A lot of white noise, ideal for stealth.
"Now, the victim. There's virtually nothing to help us here other than the fact that it's likely female and somewhat local. I'd place her residence or area of familiarity within a twenty kilometre radius. As far as an assassination goes, this would be fairly accurate. The shorter amount of time you spend with the body, the better. Our killer grabbed the body, hauled her out here and strung her up. Information or some kind of prize is the only reason to do so. Revenge and petty indifferences equal a bullet or poison, not the skills of an ex-military hitman."
The detective came closer, hands tugging at the hood of the Tyvek jumpsuit. A tell, his impatience getting the better of him. "How can you be so sure she's local though? Maybe she was visiting the area."
"This is why you see but you don't observe," Inuyasha sighed. He pointed viciously to the windows. "Little nails, evenly spaced around the side and upper border of both the window and the back door. There are miniscule amounts of trace evidence from the black tarp our killer used to cover them up. His killing was at night, so there's no purpose for the tarps other than to rule out the potential of recognition in an area. Victims are far more likely to push for escape when they feel they know the position they're in. Our killer prevented that." Inuyasha used his hands to gesture straight ahead, like laser beams from his shoulders. "This is where the body was positioned but see here, I can view right out the doorway and into the lobby. There's a business across the road, a style of brick that's only used in this area of the city. It could have been familiar. No." He spun around, nodding to himself. "She was positioned this way, hence the tarping of the back window and door. The ring was found in the further left corner, which is where she threw it likely when she was alone and bleeding to death. A last ditch effort. Lastly, the stain on the wall there is clearly only a partial. The straight line indicates something was blocking it, and the row of nails several inches above and to the right confirms it. Any visitors to the lobby can see into here, meaning the owner would likely have placed a business sign. The sign that holds the other half of the stain, which can be found in the underbelly of the lift. Have someone get it out later. I doubt there will be trace evidence but our killer clearly ditched it down there."
"Jesus." A sort of hysterical laughter bubbled from Miroku's lips, making him look younger despite the pallor of his skin. "You're insane."
Inuyasha scowled and moved on. "A woman was murdered here for information or the like, but without finding her body we can't begin to determine a motive. Forensics will have to verify it was only a single killer from the boot treads, but they'll gain nothing else from it. A standard work boot you could get anywhere in an average man's size. When they confirm only a single user, we can assume our killer is a demon. It would take a fair amount of strength to haul the body up that high with chain, where the links would make the pull more difficult. A human male is possible, but unlikely." With a frown, he took out his phone and opened up Maps.
"The body was probably dumped in the lake. If my assumptions are correct, the demon wouldn't need any assistance carrying her body to one of the cliff-edges so you'll find no evidence there. I suggest the southwestern border though. Have your team scour there, just in case." He showed Miroku the location on his phone, tapping at the screen lightly with his claws. "You need to find the body."
"In the lake?" Miroku let out a slow breath. "You know we don't have that kind of manpower and without blood, it'll be impossible to get any kind of approval to do so."
"Not my problem." Inuyasha tucked his phone away and then held out his hand. "The ring?"
The evidence bag deposited in his hands, he took one more, long look at it, letting the knowledge from the room and his deductions add any additional layers to his insight. "This ring was thrown in a moment of desperation. She knew she was dying. Bound by chain and slowly bleeding to death. She would have only thrown it if it could identify her, yet there's no name."
"Only a date." Miroku pointed to the inner band. "An anniversary?"
"Likely. The stone is often associated with fidelity and love." He grunted. "But tons of other shit, too. It's hard to deduce anything. It could be the birthstone of a child they had, with their date of birth."
"We'll go through any missing persons, see if any of them include the mention of a ring like this. We can sort through those who are married or have children as well; maybe one of them has the same anniversary date or birth date. It's a massive long shot but we can try."
Inuyasha gave the evidence bag back and then headed towards the back door. It opened easily, despite the rusted hinges though the creak was almost ominous. Outside held a kind of parking lot, asphalt laid down but crackled with age and neglect. He viewed the surrounding buildings – all of them rear-facing though two alleys were clearly in sight. He headed towards the one with dumpsters, hopping every once and a while to remove the booties.
"Where are you going?" Miroku called out, his stumbling footsteps following behind.
"To get you the evidence you need for your manpower." Inuyasha jogged to the dumpster and then used the booties to lift the lid, peering inside. A near overflow of garbage bags greeted him, the scent of stale food clear. Good, this was the spot then. He checked the front of the building – a cheap diner, greasy breakfasts and lunches only – and made it back to the alleyway before Miroku caught up.
"What the hell do you mean the proof I need?" The detective frowned. "I thought you said it wasn't your problem."
"It's not but I need you to find the victim to solve the case, and you can't do that without sign-off. The wonders of bureaucratic bullshit." Inuyasha pointed to the dumpster. "This is where the homeless man witnessed our killer moving the body, probably when our victim was dead."
Miroku hissed through his teeth. "Wait, back it up. There's a witness?"
Rolling his eyes, Inuyasha feared for the police department. Officer Nishio was dumber than he had originally predicted. "Nishio falsified the call and his statement. He has connections to the homeless network here, and they warned him of a suspicious man in all black carrying what looked to be a body into a car around four in the morning. This is a restaurant and there's daily unused food going into this dumpster. Without anyone to witness, it's the perfect place for someone without any food options to come and get something. It's also a clear view to the shop's backdoor." He smirked. "Nishio said this happened a week ago."
"A fucking week ago?" Miroku swore some more, anger etched into the lines of his forehead. "For fuck's sake, I'm going to bury him."
"He didn't think it was anything at the time, hence why he came under false pretenses. Should this have equalled out to the nothing he expected it to be, no one would have been the wiser. The homeless man – Totosai – only said it looked like he was carrying something very large. Not necessarily a body."
"I don't care either way." Inuyasha shrugged. "Just find the body."
The two of them made their way back, ducking under crime scene tape along the side of the garage. No one questioned him when Miroku was near and Inuyasha tried not to let that annoy him, ignoring skirted glances and the tainted whispers. Despite his appearance, it was like they assumed his hearing was the same as a human's. Wrong, wrong, wrong on so many levels.
And then they passed officers Nishio and Sen.
"Nishio," Miroku barked, displeasure evident. "Follow me."
The bear demon looked terrified, his red eyes weaving between Inuyasha and the detective. His posture was tense but Inuyasha felt nothing for him. The man had had his chance and he didn't take it. Inuyasha had a job to do and it didn't include making anyone from the precinct feel better about themselves.
They continued to move through the scene, Miroku not checking to see if the beat cop had followed him. Clapping Inuyasha on the back, the detective shot him a look that spoke of no sleep and too much caffeine. "I'll text you any updates."
He nodded, giving a sort of mocking salute before heading towards the main road. He needed to get to his motorcycle and drive for a bit, get the thoughts out of his head. There was nothing better than a murder, something to get his brain going, something that made him useful. But the clues and evidence always lingered long after he'd left a scene, leaving him high on a sort of adrenaline rush with no end in sight.
"Oh good, the mongrel's finally leaving. Guess Tsujitani didn't need him after all."
And just like that, an end was in sight. Inuyasha froze, unable to stop the smirk from gracing his lips as he spun around slowly. Easy enough to pick out the person who said it – the alcoholic demon from earlier – but like many others he didn't seem to register that Inuyasha would have heard. Stupid, considering it was said loudly enough a human would've caught it.
But then again, humans ranked a little higher in their books.
"Are you actually this stupid, or are you still trying and failing to impress blondie over here?" Inuyasha asked, nodding his head towards one of the female cops nearby. Pretty, tall, and clearly not buying it. Her expression had screamed boredom when he had walked by.
"Keep walking, 'consulting detective,'" the cop spat out, making the last two words sound equal to sewage.
"Well at least that was accurate," Inuyasha replied, voice sharp. "Unlike, I imagine, the last few cases you had as detective. Pretty hard to put assholes away when you can't even drink something that doesn't have vodka in it."
The demon growled, stalking over. Inuyasha wasn't scared. If anything, his body was thrumming, finally alive. His body getting to meet and match the buzzing of his mind. Too much, too powerful, too unstoppable to make sense of. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" the cop hissed.
Inuyasha smirked. "A better detective than you ever were," he answered, barely a murmur. "Though, that's a pretty low bar."
"Hey! What the hell is going on here?" Miroku was back, shoving his way through the line of officers that had been slowly gathering to watch. His blue eyes screamed fire, his right hand clenching and unclenching like he always did when he was about to go into perceived danger. That gaze was piercing and directly aimed at him, but Inuyasha didn't flinch or open his mouth to answer. He wasn't stupid.
But the cop was.
"This fucking mongrel was talking shi—"
Miroku's reaction was instantaneous. His whole body practically convulsed, head thrown back and spine arching like he'd been knocked in the head. He snapped back like an elastic band, so exasperated and fucking done that Inuyasha almost grinned. "Shut the fuck up, Takashi. Call him that one more time and I'll make sure you never step out in a uniform again."
The threat was negligible – Miroku didn't have that kind of power – but Takashi's recent demotion was still fresh in his mind. His mouth clicked shut so hard the sound was audible to everyone around them, even the humans.
Miroku's glare shifted to Inuyasha. "How many times?"
He knew exactly what the detective was asking. "Two, though I'm sure I missed a fair amount once inside."
"How come all this shit never piles up when Sango's around?" Miroku asked, somewhat plaintively. He shook his head and looked back just fast enough to catch Inuyasha's short wave. It was time to go. He needed to go. If he wasn't going to be able to fight someone, he needed to direct the energy elsewhere.
This time, Inuyasha didn't head to his motorcycle. He headed towards the nearby sidewalk and when no one was looking, took off in a sprint that would have snapped the necks of any nearby humans. He craved the speed, the rush, the insurmountable desire to pummel and claw and destroy anything around him.
The Takashi idiot wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last. 'Mongrel' wasn't even the worst he'd ever heard.
When you were half-human and half-demon, there was nothing about you that was special. Nothing pure. Nothing right. You were no more than an abomination. Demon- and human-kind didn't procreate together. The chances of a successful birth were slim to none, and in many circles seen as an offense to whatever god they prayed to.
Inuyasha ran until his head was empty and his hands were bleeding from the indents of his claws, digging into his palms.
It didn't help.
It never did.
[Incoming Message from Miroku Tsujitani - 05/10/2019, 9:27 PM]
No body in the lake. We've got nothing.
For fuck's sake, look again.
I couldn't help myself. There are easter eggs everywhere in this story.
Feedback is love.