Author's Note: Wow, that was a long break. I swear it seems like only a few weeks to me, but it's about 5 months. And here I was promising myself I'd get this tied up by Christmas. Anyway, I'd offer you all an excuse about work and stuff, but I'd rather not. Believe me, I'm very, very annoyed at myself for letting the story languish for so long. But here is a new chapter and I'm thankful to say there are 2 more main chapters, and probably an epilogue to go. Oh, we're also back to the present (where the first chapter starts).
Thanks everyone for their kind words and inhuman patience: Azi, Enchantress Azure, cherryblossomsakura2111 (hate cliffhangers do you? laughs nervously heh), elisa ang (you and me both, I so want to wrap this story up), Jazzy4, Cat Li, Mini Sweety (yeah, still trying to work some S+S, will happen soon, hopefully), MagicKnightNancy, Crazy-cherry (she had a cell phone, but it died), Blushing Sigh, Final Fantasy Princess (believe me, I had to go back to refresh my memory and I'm the author…), KayJuli, LiLDraGoNGuRL28, Tempest in a Teacup, Grinning Contrivance, Inuyasha's girl 4-ever, SillyNiecy (yes, still in university, over in England for the year, which is my excuse for not updating in a while), Meruru-chan, jbg (well, you're close), BGR, reviewer, Lemon Parade, Nekoi (very interesting ideas you have there, I wish you'd mentioned them before I worked out the plot line), Cherry-SweetHeart, japanfan (well, just in time for Christmas break. laughs nervously), Fa I ya, shazaoblossom, Inkblots, s jus me, crystal (oh, this story is Syaoran's POV, except for that one Sakura POV in chapter 5), The Dark Neko (I like your logic; in a way it's very close to what I have in mind), anonymous, nightshadow1, EvilAngel995, the impatient one (I know, I'm so ashamed; things have been well…in major upheaval mode this entire fall), Kris, Rushi Star, Sakura Naoko, Rika, Light in the Darkness, anj, Lunar Hotaru (I read a lot of detective fiction which always has cops in them, but then again I'm sure Syaoran's POV is nothing like a real cop POV, but hey, this is fiction after…), Anon, Fylleth.
The Hunt for a Cherry BlossomChapter 18: The Kidnapper
September 11"And now my eyes hurt, I'm tired and I feel like shit," I finish over my third cup of coffee in the past hour.
"Jeez, Syaoran. I work at the precinct you know. You didn't need to tell me the whole story…" Yamazaki smiles in an infuriatingly disarming smile at the waitress as she passes by. "I was helping you on the case for a bit, remember?"
I scowl deeply into the surface of the coffee, so black that it reflects my face. "Shut up, I'm not in the mood alright?"
"Yeah, I got it, Syaoran." We lapse into a silence and I finish off the last of my coffee. "You sure it can't be Ueda?"
"I'm sure. He doesn't fit Hanaka's profile and I don't know, it doesn't feel right. Besides, he has no motive, and no place to put her."
"He doesn't need a place to put her if she's…"
"She's not." Yamazaki gives me a wary doubtful look and it makes me unaccountably angry, as if he pities me for my denial. "I know there's more than a good chance she's…but she's alive. She is." The affirmation sounds even weak to me.
"Alright Syaoran. Say she's alive, where is she? We've crossed off Ueda but she could be with anyone." He sighs and pushes his empty plate away from him. "I can't help thinking Ueda's the criminal, I mean how does a random guy pull off such a copycat? Things that fooled even our own experts."
"I don't know, Yamazaki. That's the problem I keep running up against. It's not a coincidence that we were led to believe Ueda was the kidnapper. Someone wanted us to and succeeded in making us believe it. The only way that that could happen is if…" I trail off into silence as some thought is starting to form in my head. It's ridiculous, almost sacrilegious in a way, but the more it develops the more questions it solves. And it narrows down the field to three.
Yamazaki must have noticed the look on my face and he gives me a wary look. "What is it Syaoran? You think of something?"
I nod slowly, putting the last pieces into place. "Just a crazy idea, but I'll need you help."
"It's not going to end up with Chief Mizuki threatening me with suspension is it?"
"Not if I'm right."
He rolls his eyes in resignation. "Alright, what the hell. Life's short, right?"
I manage to smile at him, even with the weight of the desperate illegal actions I'm planning. "Thanks, this is what we need to do."
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I meet Yamazaki at the front doors of the precinct. He walks the way I feel, nervous and trying to smother any conspicuous behaviour. The same way I walked into the records office when the clerk went on a cigarette break, the same look as I rifled through confidential files. "You sure you're right Syaoran?"
I rub the edge of a hastily scrawled address in my pocket. "No, but it's our best bet right now. Let's go."
"Yeah, one step closer to being fired right? Can't wait."
I give him a halfhearted glare and head off towards the car. The car ride is in silence, the weight of the protocols that we're ignoring settling over us like a layer of heavy smoke. We approach the house slowly, sliding into place across the street. The driveway's empty and there's no sign of life, as I expected.
Casually and stiffly we get out of the car and cross the street. It's a comfortable sized house, without a porch but a good two stories. The vinyl siding is clean and white, the windows screened and open. A row of shrubs lines the west side of the house and a paved path curves around the east side, presumably to the side or back door. Yamazaki and I peer into the windows; the inside is dim and empty. We ring the doorbell a few times, but no one answers. We follow the path around to the back door and knock a few times, but again there's no sign of life inside the house. I give Yamazaki a pointed look and motion with my head to the aluminum back door. "You know what you're doing?"
He nods, looking serious for once, and takes a quick look behind him. "Standing guard right here. Now get going, I don't want to be here longer than I have to."
"Right." I take a quick appraisal of the small backyard, fenced in and providing good cover for a break in. Picking locks isn't in the police manual and I wish now that it was. As it is, I bunch the sleeve of my coat over my fist and strike the glass, right in the center of the window in the door. The glass cracks and spreads across the pane like a spider's web. I strike it again, and the pieces crack apart and fall inward with a low scratchy bell like sound. Careful to avoid the jagged edges of the glass still in the frame, I reach in and twist open the doorknob.
It's a funny thing you learn as a policeman that people can buy all the high tech alarm systems to protect themselves, but they always forget some of the most basic principles of safety. For instance, there's another door beyond the aluminum one, solid wood and virtually impassable. And unlocked.
The inside of the house is clean, tidy. The dishes are in the draining rack, the chairs are tucked under the kitchen table, cushions nestled into the corners of their respective sofas, even a few empty beer bottles are clustered together on the living room table ready for disposal. Photos are framed and arranged on the bookshelves in the den, and various prints and watercolours hang on the white walls. In fact, it's very much a family home.
I prowl around the rooms, reminded of my gun every step, its angles against the small of my back. The ground floor has a simple plan, interconnecting family rooms and a bathroom. There are three closed doors, and with a hand on my gun, I open the first two. Closets. The last is over by the west side of the house and looks unlike that last two. It's a large heavy looking door on the side of a small hallway that leads into the laundry room. Opposite the door is a large framed sketch of a boat. The sight of it gives me chills, as if I know it from somewhere. This time, I pull my gun loose from its holster and hold it out in front of me as I reach out to turn the knob. It doesn't budge; it's locked. The nervous feeling intensifies and I click the safety off my gun. I twist the lock open and try the door again. It turns easily, well oiled, and I push it inward slowly.
It's dark inside, pitch black. The smell is overwhelming, a thick smell of human occupancy. I move a small step towards the threshold and train my gun down the stairs, down into the darkness. With my left hand, I search the wall for a light switch, but nothing happens when I find it and flick it. But it was then that I thought I heard a sound somewhere below. I approached the top of the stairs straining to see into the black. "Hello, is someone down there?" No answer. "I'm with the Tomoeda police department. Is there someone here?" This time there is definite sound, scuffling, approaching. I put my left hand around my right to steady my aim.
Surreal, a figure is expelled from the dark, dim in the feeble light at the foot of the stairs. But I can tell it's a woman, squinting and craning her neck forward to make me out. I drop the gun to my side and step down onto the top stair. Sweat makes my hands damp, and adrenaline makes my movement and voice jerky. "I'm Li Syaoran. With the police department. Are you Sakura? Ms. Kinomoto?"
The woman straightens and looks up at me, this time with fully open eyes and stares. Stares for I don't know how long, then she's climbing up the stairs, clumsily but steadily. Until she's only about ten stairs away and suddenly stops. She's still staring at me as she takes a frightened step back down a stair, and then another.
I realize belatedly then, that her eyes aren't on me. It's on the man who has put the cold lip of a gun to the back of my head.
"Drop the gun."
I open my hand and the weapon clunks onto the stair. I stare down at Sakura, who is slowly retreating back into the darkness. "You," I accuse into the formless dark.
"Me," he says simply. The gun slides up the curve of my skull and then leaves my skin, brushing my hair as it retreats back. "Goodbye, Syaoran."
Sakura is gone again from sight and I close my eyes, acutely aware of the fear and tension rising up inside me.
A gunshot explodes in my ear.
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Author's Note: Oh, I know I am a dead one right now in all your eyes. The first chapter in this fic in 5 months and it's a cliffhanger. Would it make you less likely to kill me if I tell you there's S+S in the next chapter?