"Shiroi Hane"

Written by Calis

Chapter Four: Mirror

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" You guys missed out on something good this morning. " Wakaba said suddenly.

Four pair of male eyes regarded her quizzically over her statement. It was the morning time break time and Tsuzuki, Hisoka, Terazuma and Tatsumi were holed up in the pantry. Terazuma looked his usual surly self and did not acknowledge his partner's comment. Tsuzuki and the rest however put down their coffee mugs to give her their attention.

" What is it, Wakaba-san? Did we miss out on something good for breakfast? You didn't save anything for us? " Tsuzuki asked, looking like a disappointed puppy.

" Cut that out! I'm sure Wakaba-san is not talking about food. "

" I'm afraid Hisoka-kun is right. It's not about food, Tsuzuki-san. A lady came in this morning to look for Chief Konoe. "

" A lady? An old Obasan, you mean. " Terazuma slipped his coffee with an air of indifference.

" No, no. She's young... about mid-twenties I think. She's very pretty too... I've never seen someone with silver hair and eyes. "

Hisoka's hand tightened almost involuntarily around his mug at Wakaba's words. A vision of a man with lips twisted in a mocking smile flashed into his mind and he felt a sudden chill. He suppressed the unease quickly and was glad that no one noticed.

" Silver.... " Tatsumi said slowly and his expression grew thoughtful.

" You know her, Tatsumi-san? " Tsuzuki asked.

" I might. Did she leave her name or tell you why she was looking for Chief Konoe? "

" She passed me an envelope and asked me to give it to him when he comes in. I've already put it on the Chief's desk. Oh yes! Her name! It's quite special too. "

" Hane, Kimura Hane, isn't it? Wakaba-chan. " Tatsumi said, taking his glasses off to polish them.

" Eh? You are right! "

" Feather? Why would anyone want to be named that? " Terazuma leaned back in his chair, looking totally bored with the conversation topic.

" It sounds pretty! " Tsuzuki and Wakaba chorused.

" Who is she, Tatsumi-san? " Hisoka asked warily.

" She's one of us. "

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She stood by the large windows, watching the sakura in bloom. It had not been an easy decision coming into the office during the day but she was running out of time. Her level of control was slipping and very soon the memories would overwhelm her. She was losing the will to keep her inner demons at bay and before that happened, she had to find him.

" Kimura-san! "

Hane turned away from the view and returned the greeting of Wakaba. Besides Tatsumi, it was the first time Hane was meeting her colleagues in the flesh but her eyes were drawn only to two individuals. The amethyst eyes that regarded were warm and friendly without any trace of guile. Tsuzuki's grin was so infectious that Hane could not help but return with a smile as she shook his hand. Terazuma regarded her with interest as they self-introduced and she noticed that Wakaba did not look too happy at that.

She likes him but he doesn't know... Hane realized.

Tatsumi merely nodded at her in greeting and she acknowledged it by inclining her head slightly. There was something about him that affected her but she had no time to ponder over it. Only one person was left and as she approached him, Hane could see from the unease in those vivid green eyes that her appearance had stirred something within him but she could only hope that he would not make the connection too soon.

" This is Hisoka, He's my partner! " Tsuzuki announced happily as he dragged Hisoka to her.

" I can walk, you know! " Hisoka snapped a little irritated.

" Hello, Hisoka-kun. "

She purposely blanked her thoughts as she shook his hand, understanding the nature of his telepathic and empathic abilities. Hisoka was somewhat apprehensive when he touched her. There was something about her that nagged at his subconscious but he relaxed when he sensed nothing out of the ordinary.

Hane watched his reaction and almost released a sigh of relief when Hisoka gave her a tentative smile. It would not do to let her guard slip now at this crucial period. She needed both Tsuzuki and Hisoka to bring her to him. Before that, none of them must know the relationship between the man she was searching for and herself.

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The old city was steeped in an atmosphere of rustic charm as Hane glided through the streets beneath the cold light of a full moon. She had came to Kyoto in secret, acting on her own without the sanction of JuOhCho. She knew he was here, the blood between them was too strong a link.

Being known in the Shoukan Division had given her access to the information on the case of multiple murders of women in Kyoto. There was no connection between the murder victims in terms of age, occupation and even the modus operandi but the strange reoccurrence among the victims was that a part of their hair had all been sheared. It was not an unusual case by any means but when Watari under whose jurisdiction Kyoto fell under, had asked for the assistance of Tsuzuki and Hisoka, her suspicions had been aroused.

Like a silver ghost, Hane flew towards her destiny, letting his presence guide her. This was her last and only chance to find the answers to the questions that remained unresolved since her death. She was aware the truth might very well destroy all that she had lived for but she had to know.

She stopped before the closed gates of a park, hesitating as uncertainty suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. Her eyes looked up to see sakura petals drifting down upon her as a breeze of the night wind shook them loose. Like snow touched with a faint blush of pink, they fell upon her and their poignant beauty comforted her. Hane stepped forward, her body becoming more incorporeal as she drifted through the ornate metal gates towards the maze that lied within. Resolutely, she sought the heart of the labyrinth where she knew he would be waiting.

He was there standing upon a pedestal, a white silhouette against the blood red moon that loomed above in the unfathomable darkness. His coat fluttered in the wind like the wings of a bird of prey as he turned to face her. Silver eyes, the mirror of her own, regarded her with mild amusement.

" You should not have come here, Hane. You should not have returned."

" I came back because I had to know... why. Why I had to... die. "

Her response made him laugh but it was a cruel sound that mocked her.

" Do you really want to know? The truth is not kind, my little sister. "

" Tell me why, Oniisan. " Hane asked quietly.

" Your very existence is a bane, Hane. How I wish you could have never been born into this world... "

He leaped down, landing gracefully before her. Pale long-fingered hands grasped her chin, lifting her head up so that he could see her face by the light of the moon.

" Do you know why you did not carry the surname of Muraki, Hane? "

" Yes, I knew... " Hane whispered.

" You are a bastard, Hane. A child that Mother had with another man. She betrayed the Muraki family in order to spite Father and had you with her doctor. It was an irony really... Father having affairs with his patients so that's why she tried the same? But she failed miserably... because by then Father did not even care if she was dead or alive. "

" Mother betrayed the Muraki family... She betrayed me.... by doing such a disgraceful thing. And she replaced me with you... you became her favorite doll in my place... "

His voice was sibilant, each breath falling like frost against her ear as his words chilled her to the bone. He lay one finger at the corner of her left eye, moving down he steadily applied pressure until he drew a bloody gash across her cheek with his nail. Her blood stained her face and his hand but strangely she felt no pain. Releasing her, he lifted his fingers to his lips and licked them delicately like a cat, enjoying the coppery taste of the sanguine fluid against his tongue.

" Is that why you hate me, just like you hated him? "

He knew whom she was talking about even when she mentioned no names and his remaining living eye narrowed.

" Saki? Yes, he was a bastard just like you. The bastard who destroyed my family but still I had to thank him for doing me a favor. Your screams were music to my ears. "

Hane froze with shock as the implications went through her. He had been there that night so long ago at that deserted construction site where Saki and his gang had taken her. He had been there watching and listening in the shadows when they ripped her clothes off and violated her. Listening to her scream in terror and pain as they plunge brutally into her body again and again beginning with Saki. Her caring elder half-brother who had found her later had been there all along.

" No... " Tears fell unheeded down her face as she shook her head in denial.

" I was surprised that you could recover from the trauma. I could have left you alone but he had to appear. That fool. "

" Hideaki... " She no longer saw him but the image of another man, the man she loved.

" Yes, Takenouchi Hideaki, the man who became your fiancé. You belong to me because you are a doll that I have inherited from Mother. No one can take away my possession. "

" Hideaki... " Hane called out his name brokenly.

" You killed him, Hane. You forced my hand when you married him. He would have taken you away and I could not allow that. You made me kill him, my beautiful angel... my fallen angel. "

Muraki Kazutaka embraced her, not so much to comfort but to stake his claim over her again. He was right; the truth only shattered everything she had ever believed in. Death had not freed her; it had only made a satire of her entire life. Yet she was no longer the woman she was in life. Her memories had changed her forever.

" I have always had this image of you with wings - beautiful pure white wings outstretched from your back. But then again, a fallen angel has no need for wings. " He kissed her, a chaste brotherly kiss on the cheek he had scarred earlier but the wound had since healed.

" I'm no angel. "

Hane shoved him away from her violently. Her voice was low and harsh with her grief but there was an undertone of anger. The move surprised him and Muraki staggered back before he regained his balance. The glance that he threw her from one living silver orb was contemplative. Liking what he saw, Muraki smiled.

" I'm no angel.... I'm a shinigami... "

" And you still belong to me. "

" No. "

She moved towards him, a sudden flash of gray with one hand streaking up. Time started and stopped as two figures stood still beneath the face of a crimson moon. Hane could feel the steady pulse of his heartbeat beneath the thin blade of ice she pressed against his throat even as she stared into a face once so familiar yet had became so remote. All it took was the slightest pressure for the razor sharp edge of ice to slice deep into the vulnerable flesh of Muraki's jugular and she had reason enough to want him dead but at this moment of truth, she faltered.

" Would you kill me then? Would you take my life? Take a human life when even the lives of animals were important to you? Hane... my perfect little doll. " Muraki grasped her wrist with enough force to bruise.

" You'll always be my puppet... A puppet tied by that cursed blood that binds us both. You have no idea how happy you've made me, Hane. I had been so disappointed when I thought you had slipped through my fingers after succumbing to the serum that I injected you with. I would never have done that if that unfortunate incident with Takenouchi had not happened. But what once was lost has now been found... my forgotten favorite toy. "

He whispered against her ear as he took the blade of ice from her unresisting fingers. Muraki turned the knife in his hand, watching as its crystalline facets reflected the hazy red moonlight before he savagely shattered it with a raw burst of power. Anger long deserted her, leaving her desolate and empty. She would never be free of him and Muraki smiled again as he saw the realization in her eyes.

" We'll meet again..., Hane. "

It was a promise as he left her falling to her knees amidst a swirl of white feathers. Hane trembled as she picked up a snowy pinion. It had been a symbol of her naiveté and her namesake but now it was badge of her shame. He was right after all; a fallen angel has no need for wings. Clutching the white feathers in her hands, she wept brokenly for the death of her innocence.

And in the distance, shadows quietly withdrawn from the shade of sakura trees.