"Hikaru mono no subete ga ougen to wa kagiranai."

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Tuxedo Jack
~and~
Craptacularly Spignificant Productions
~present, with some apologies to Akamatsu~

The Kyoto Liddo-Kun
Chapter the First

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I refuse to put a disclaimer in the new chapters of this
series. If you want to see a disclaimer that badly, go back
to the first chapter and don't look here.

* * * * * * * * * *

It didn't make sense.

A man calls his girlfriend while he's panicking, tells her that
he's worried about a friend, and vanishes. Oh, and he just happens
to mention that the friend's got something that he shouldn't have.

It sounded like a damn old story.

However, it wasn't mine to bitch about, since I was stuck finding the
guy in the first place.

My name's Kanako Urashima, and I'm a private detective.

I'd been hired by Naru Narusegawa, and I had very, very little to go
on. Even with my sources, I was going to have a tough time with this.

"Kanako-san," my secretary said from the next room. "You have another
visitor. Shall I show her in?"

"Bring her in," I replied, and Shinobu opened the door. It was who I 
thought it was - the local police officer, Motoko Aoyama. She was the 
only cop I'd dealt with in ages, and she eschewed guns completely - she 
said that they "were not the proper way to do combat," or some such. 
Thanks to the philosophy, she carried a katana.

I'd snorted when I heard her philosophy. Give me a .45 and put me up against
her any day - then we'd see who walked away.

"Good morning, Urashima-san," she said, bowing formally when she entered.
I nodded to her, and motioned for her to sit down, which she did.

"What brings you here, Aoyama-san?" I said as I drew out a cigarette 
and prepared to light it. Motoko saw it, drew her sword, and performed 
a rapid slash, cutting the cigarette in half.

I sighed. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Urashima-san, be serious." Her demeanor was startling, to say the least.
We'd dated before (I'm not hesitant to admit that. She'd drawn me in, and
like a sucker, I fell for her. When she dumped me, it felt like hitting
concrete, and ever since then, I'd been in a dry spell), and her attitude
was completely different from what it had been when I knew her. "I know
all about your meeting with Narusegawa-san, and I know about her little
problem."

"Then you can tell me why the hell he'd up and vanish, Motoko," I said,
baiting her. "I mean, surely since the police solve everything in this
country, they'd know where a college student's boyfriend went to with
improperly acquired goods."

Her face hardened. "How did you..." She sighed. "No matter. Since you
already know, I might as well tell you what the police figured out.
It seems that the boy Keitaro is messing with things far beyond what
he thought when he left."

"Oh? Yakuza?"

Motoko shook her head. "If the yakuza were involved in this, their
hands would have been tipped already. They fail to be discreet with
missing people and murders. We believe the zaibatsu and keiretsu are 
to blame."

"Corporations? Industry leaders? What would..."

She shrugged. "That is what we don't know. All we can hypothesize is that
the goods Keitaro possesses are trade secrets or something."

I waved a finger and lit a second cigarette. "He's not the one with them.
It's one of his friends."

Motoko smiled. "Thank you. You've just given me a hint to whom I need to
find." She stood. "I shall take my leave now, Kanako-san. I bid you good
day." She left, and Shinobu shut the door behind her.

I sat there and smoked. How could a college student - a ronin, for God's
sake - have gotten his hands on something big enough for either the yakuza
or zaibatsu to come after him? No corporation hired college students for
anything secret. His friend must have worked for one of them and passed it
to him, then...

I shook my head and blew away the haze of smoke around me. "Shinobu-san,
I'm going out. Mind the office."

Shinobu nodded vigorously, making her hair bounce around and create a
semi-angelic halo around her. "Hai, Urashima-san! I'll do my best!"

"You do that," I said, pulling my long coat off the coatrack by the door.
Yes, even I conform to some stereotypes. Traditionally, private eyes and
detectives wear trenchcoats - tan ones, with belts and lots of pockets. I
did indeed wear a trenchcoat, but it was black, and had a silver cross on
each lapel with a dark red silk lining.

I slipped it on and walked into the rain outside. There were three stops I
had to make to even get a lead on this case, and quite frankly, I wanted to
get them done before I got soaked. So I walked along the streets, umbrella
over my head, trenchcoat billowing behind me... god, I sound like something
out of an old anime. 

A trolley came by, and I boarded it. My first destination was across 
town, and I'd rather ride than walk. I'd need all the energy I can get 
for the meeting I had in mind.

I was going to meet with some old friends... old friends who didn't exactly
deal in normal trades.

While the trolley went across town slowly, I had time to think. It was
the kid, Keitaro, who was the key to it all. That Naru woman certainly
knew more than she was telling. I'd have to make a special trip to get
it out of her.

My mind drifted for a minute. Under other circumstances, I'd have been
interested in her - maybe even enough to try to romance her. Of course,
I didn't know if she'd respond as she is, or if she'd throw it off, or
if she'd reject me out of instinct. However, in Japan, we're taught that
sex is a bodily function. We don't get all worked up about it like
the gaijin do. Nothing's wrong with being attracted to members of one's
own sex. The problem lies in the opposite party being attracted to you.

So sue me, she was a wounded dove, and I like that in a woman.

The trolley shuddered to a stop, and I looked around. It was my stop.
I slipped off the trolley, tightened my coat, and opened my umbrella.
A short walk up the street, I found my destination - a small office 
building, which had the characters for "Tsuki no O-cha" above the front
door.

I entered and signed in at the front desk, then asked to see three specific
people - none of which, the guard informed me, were there. I cursed myself
for being so stupid, and then... then the very person I wanted to see came
out of the shadows in an elevator archway.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" she said to me, smoking her
cigarette.

"I think you know, obaasan," I replied.

At this, Haruka snapped her fingers, and two men came out from behind her.
Each of them grabbed one of my arms rather roughly, and she smirked.

"You shouldn't have come."

I stared straight into her eyes. "I'm here on business. A client of mine
is seeking information on the whereabouts..."

Haruka raised her hand and pulled her cigarette out of her mouth. "Haitani,
Shirai, take her to my office. Take care of her until I get there."

The two holding my arms nodded, then pulled me towards an elevator.

I really didn't like where this was going, but seeing as how Haruka hadn't
ever attacked me before, I had some faith in her.

After I was placed in Haruka's office by Haitani and Shirai (who stood guard
over me... as if I was going to steal anything), I was stuck waiting for about
ten minutes... and then she came in. Haruka Urashima, my aunt, entered the room 
and sat down in a high-backed chair behind her desk.

The nameplate on her desk said "Director, Tsuki no O-cha Enterprises." However,
some people knew that Haruka was far more than she claimed to be.

Haruka was the local yakuza boss.

"I hadn't expected for you to come to me, Kanako," she said, lighting another
cigarette and passing me a box of Shinsei. I accepted, lit one, and drew in the
smoke. 

"You know why I came here," I said quietly. "All that remains is the price necessary
for your information."

Haruka stood from her chair and walked around to stand in front of me. Shirai and 
Haitani stood like ominous pillars on either side, and each placed one hand on my
shoulders, effectively pinning me to the chair.

Now I started to get worried. I'd been in the room when Haruka had punished
lieutenants before, and she didn't believe in the whole pinky-finger thing.

She pulled her cigarette out of her mouth and leaned in very close to my
face. "Do you know what you're asking for? That boy your client's dealing with
has _very_ severe problems, and they're not from locals. They're from someone
very high in the chain."

"It doesn't matter, 'baasan," I said, staring right into her eyes. "She's my
client, and I've got to earn my fee."

"I get it. She's your latest toy, isn't she? The newest of a series of women
who'll 'ease the pain' of your being dumped by that policewoman? Is that it?"

"Despite what you think, Haruka-san, you're wrong."

Haruka raised her hand with the cigarette in it to less than an inch from my
left eye. I could feel the heat - so hot, it was drying my eye, and I felt
an overwhelming desire to blink, but I didn't.

"There are some things that even I don't want to mess with. Do you understand
that?"

I would have nodded, except that would have permanently blinded me. Haruka
saw the emotion in my eyes, then pulled the cigarette back and slapped me.
"Get out. Don't come back. I won't help you this time. I can't afford it."

I held my hand to my face, where a welt was beginning to form, and Shirai and
Haitani pushed me out of the room. As I was shown out, Haruka sat back down and
lit a third cigarette.

Shirai and Haitani pushed me into an elevator, then tapped the "Lobby" button
and exited it quickly. As I rode the elevator down, one thing stuck in my
mind:

Haruka was afraid of this. 

If it was bad enough to make her afraid, it could only be one thing - the 
zaibatsu. It took a lot to make her afraid, and I didn't want to meet the 
thing that could do that. For a second, I seriously thought of dropping 
the case -

And then the image of Naru with her face marred with tears flew into my head.
I closed my eyes and tried to will it away, but nothing happened except that
it changed to the memory of her hugging me, and how right it felt...

SHIT!

I slammed my fist into the wall of the elevator. Why? Why in hell did I have
to be this, the one who gets into everything? Dammit, I wanted a chance, and 
as I was, it was fucking nonexistant!

The bell dinged, and the door opened. I rubbed the welt on my face one last
time, and then I started walking out into the rain.

My case just got harder.

* * * * * * * * * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Oh, my, things certainly are getting more difficult for
Kanako. With Haruka, the yakuza boss, denying aid to the
private investigator, how will Kanako even progress in
the search for Keitaro?

This was done rather quickly, I admit. It took less than
24 hours to conceive, plan, write, and upload this chapter.
If that haste denies it quality, I apologize. If, however,
Kanako, you find this well-written and pleasing, then my
obligations for this chapter are complete, and I shall
begin work upon the next posthaste.

I also ask the readers to check my website. There may be 
things that you like there. The URL is on my profile page.
And don't forget about my Fictionpress site. It's at
Fictionpress.com/~tuxedojack. Do browse and enjoy.

Lastly, many thanks to Ian Fleming and Michael Crichton's
books "You Only Live Twice" and "Rising Sun" for the name
of Haruka's cigarettes and the word "keiretsu." Without
them, I wouldn't have half the knowledge (however small)
of the Japanese businesses that I do.

Tuxedo Jack
Tuxedojack@juno.com
June 24th, 2003