- Title: Saucy Jacky
- Author: Meicdon13
- Pairing(s): Hazel x Sanzo, Iisou x Hakkai, mention of Gojyo x Hakkai, Iisou x Gojyo, slight Dokugakuji x Kougaiji
- Rating: NC-17
- Summary: There's a murderer loose in the East End preying on unsuspecting prostitutes. And the police don't even have a clue about who he is.
- Website: http://meicdon13.livejournal.com/
- Warnings: AU, blood, cross dressing, prostitution, violence, murder, snuff sex, mutilation, Chin Iisou
- Notes: Copies of the Jack the Ripper letters were taken from Wikipedia. I apologize if I make any mistakes in regards to anything. And oh God I'm starting to ship Homura x Nataku. Written for
epiphanytiff for 7thnight_smut 2008. Beta by xcerpted



In the autumn of 1888, a young man stepped off of a coach and picked up his suitcase as he looked around his surroundings. He was in Whitechapel, one of the admittedly poorer areas near London, but since he wasn't planning on staying there permanently, he didn't mind the neighborhood at all.

With a small smile on his face, he patted the bulge in his suitcase where his array of knives and daggers were and began walking down the street in search of lodgings.


The Ten Bells was not really a place where you wanted to be seen if you weren't into what most of society would call 'deviant behavior'. Prostitutes of both sexes plied their trade there and that was mostly the reason for people to avoid it completely. Added to the fact that it was located in the East End, it made any moral, upright citizen steer clear of that area.

It was yet another busy night at the pub when the doors opened to admit a man in a coat and wearing a wide-brimmed hat. His face was barely visible above his coat's upturned collar and not a single strand of hair escaped the confines of his hat. He tipped his head towards the landlord in greeting and got a friendly wave in return.

Detective Inspector Hazel Grouse peered out from under the relative safety of his hat as he sat down at a table. A few looks from the usual prospects were directed at him but he ignored them all in favor of keeping his bright blue eyes peeled for a glimpse of his personal favorite 'lady' of the night.

Sunshine, as he was called, was nowhere to be seen. Hazel scanned the crowd, trying to find the familiar blond head and narrowed purple eyes. There was a swirl of purple skirts somewhere to his right and he turned around in his seat to appreciate the view the blond's dress was offering.

The usual scowl was on Sunshine's face as he stood with his fellow cross dressers to one side of the room, not participating in the animated conversation taking place around him. Hazel took in the truly lovely dress that the glowering blond was wearing and smiled as he drank his beer.

Amusement shone in the inspector's bright blue eyes as he watched Sunshine threaten a man who had tried to grope Goldie's behind. The blond was fiercely protective of the golden-eyed brunet to the point of not letting the younger male earn anything most nights.

Finishing his drink, Hazel stood up and took off his hat. He straightened his coat and brushed imaginary lint off of his shoulder before making his way across the crowded area, towards the prostitutes.

When he was close enough, he smiled widely and bowed. "Good evening, pretty lady. May I interest you in a drink?"

One of the 'ladies', a redhead, snickered before covering his mouth and turning to talk to a green-eyed brunet. Sunshine looked at the white-haired man from over his shoulder, purple eyes narrowed when he saw who was trying to buy his services and the blond snorted in what could have been disdain. Hazel ignored it and patiently waited for the blond's answer.

"Goldie, go talk to Amber," Sunshine finally said, turning around to face the inspector. The brunet glared at Hazel before doing as the taller male said. He walked over to a black-haired young man around his age and the pair instantly began chatting.

"So, how about it, pretty one?" Hazel offered Sunshine his arm, smiling his best charming smile and wondering if tonight was the night that he'd get lucky with the lovely blond.

"Thanks but no thanks," the purple-eyed man replied. "And, stop stalking me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hazel said.

"Of course you don't," Sunshine said acidly. "That really wasn't you hanging around outside my apartment this morning. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go back to work."

The blue-eyed man grabbed Sunshine's arm, preventing the blonde from walking away. "Unlike some of those boors," he said, nodding sharply towards said boors, "I intend to pay for services rendered. And if you're open to more, you'll find that you won't find yourself lacking in anything else you need."

"Now I know why I don't like you," Sunshine spat, yanking his arm out of the inspector's grip. Before Hazel could do anything else, Goldie appeared out of nowhere and kicked the silver-haired man's leg.

"Leave him alone!" the brunet shouted. He grabbed the blond's arm and began dragging him away. The taller male followed without complaint, leaving Hazel to rub his bruised shin.


Gojyo adjusted the skirts of his dress and sighed, wishing that he didn't have to wear the damn thing anymore. He glanced at the clock on the wall and wished that the night would go faster. Beside him, Hakkai sipped his drink demurely, green eyes locked with another pair across the room. Looked like his friend had hooked a prospective client.

The brunet stood up from the barstool where he was sitting and straightened his skirts. "Well, I'm off to earn my half of the rent," he said amiably.

Before Hakkai could walk over to whoever she was going to spend the next hour with, the redhead reached out to take a hold of his arm. "Be careful," Gojyo said, eyes serious as they looked into green ones.

The brunet placed a hand over Gojyo's and squeezed it comfortingly. "I will," he replied before walking towards the door where a slim man stood, waiting. With a final smile in Gojyo's direction, Hakkai left the pub with his companion for the evening.


He's smiling and talking to him as they walk down the street. The whore doesn't know what he is yet. He's not sure what he is yet. All he knows is that he wants to see the brunet's blood flowing through his fingers and to watch the life drain out of his bright green eyes. They're lovely eyes, really. He thinks he'll keep them after he kills the cross dresser.

The whore's getting worried now; he can feel him tensing up. He's still smiling but the expression's become strained. A lesser person wouldn't notice but he's not a lesser person. He tightens his hold around his waist.

"So, sir. Do you have a name? Or anything else you want me to call you?" He tries for a sultry smile and pulls it off wonderfully. His catch would have been a great actor.

After tonight, he won't be anything else but a dead body on the street.


He pushes the brunet up against the nearest wall and claps a hand over his mouth. There's momentary surprise in those green eyes but then it disappears. He wonders if his other clients were violent as well.

He lifts up the whore's skirts with one hand and places his palm against his thigh even as he sinks his teeth into the side of a slender neck. He bites down harder, tasting blood in his mouth. He's starting to fight now. Good. It's much more fun this way.

The brunet manages to land a kick on his shin, his heel leaving what will probably be a nasty bruise in the morning. A little too much fight and he might escape. And that's not good. He lets go of his thigh under his hand and pulls the knife out of his belt. The moonlight overhead reflects on the blade as he runs his tongue across it.

For a moment, he relishes the fear he can clearly see in bright green eyes before he twists them around, placing the brunet's back against his chest, his hand still on his mouth. Quickly, before the whore can make use of the change in position, he slits the other man's throat.

He watches the blood gushing out of the wound, black in the moonlight, and feels himself harden. Dropping the knife, he uses one hand to fumble with the front of his trousers. He frees his erection and pulls up the back of the whore's skirt with both hands, not caring if the brunet cries out for help. It's not like he has anything left to cry out with.

He lets the dying man fall face down onto the dirty pavement and stands there for a moment, watching the pool of blood spread out, his hand stroking his growing erection. Then he kneels down behind the whore and spreads his legs. Before pushing into the white ass, he dips a hand in the blood pool and uses the red fluid as lubrication.

The blood is still warm.

With a groan, he pushes into the prone body beneath him. He's engulfed in tight heat and he pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling. He places his hands on the brunet's hips and begins to thrust in and out, lips pulling back from his teeth in a vicious animalistic snarl.

He leans forward and bites down again on the same neck wound he made earlier. He sticks out his tongue and laps along the edge of the knife wound. The coppery taste fuels him on and he increases the speed of his thrusts, skin slapping against the brunet's. He raises the other man's hips, changing the angle of his thrusts and moves even faster.

He comes violently, the world blanking out for a moment before he returns to reality. He pulls out of the now dead body and tucks himself back into his clothes. Picking up the discarded knife, he rolls the whore onto his back and proceeds to strip him.


Gojyo was in the middle of a dream involving him, Hakkai, and silk ribbons when there was a loud knock on the door leading into the apartment he shared with the brunet. The redhead pulled on a pair of trousers before making his way towards the door. It was probably Hakkai coming back from his job. Gojyo had been unfortunate—or fortunate, depending on how you looked at it—enough not to find anyone interested last night.

He opened the door, yawning. "Hey, 'Kai—" He stopped speaking when he saw that it was a policeman standing in the hallway.

"Gojyo Sha?" the officer asked.

"That's me, yeah." Gojyo suddenly felt cold as he looked at the other man.

"I hate to tell you this but…we found Hakkai Cho's body this morning outside Buck's Row."


Once again, Hazel Grouse found himself sitting at a table in the Ten Bells, drinking beer from a flagon and idly wondering what was on the plate in front of him. Sunshine was once again with his fellows near the bar. The redheaded one, Ruby, was sitting slumped on his stool while a couple of the younger prostitutes hovered at his shoulders. There were only ten of them tonight.

The mutilated corpse they had found a week ago was once Ruby's close friend and roommate, Jade. It was understandable that the redhead was mourning the death of his friend. But crying would simply spoil his looks; he shouldn't have bothered coming to the pub.

The inspector stood up and steeled himself for another attempt at wooing his blond beauty. His charm would win over his elusive Sunshine and get him into his bed. All he had to do was be persevering. With that in mind, the blue-eyed man walked over towards the group across the room.


Kougaiji sat beside Kami and watched Gojyo slowly drink himself into oblivion. Letting the other redhead near alcohol was a bad idea in his opinion but Homura had told the others to let Gojyo do as he wished.

"All we can do is be there for him," the raven-haired man had said before drifting off to find a prospective client.

"Don't you think we should stop him?" Rampa asked, worry evident in his voice. His yellow-green eyes were focused on Gojyo and the steadily growing group of empty bottles on the bar beside him.

"You heard Homura," Kougaiji sighed. "Now stop wringing your hands together or you'll wear your gloves through."

"The persistent man is coming," Kami noted idly as he twirled a strand of light blond hair around his finger. "Sanzo won't be happy. Someone should warn him."

"Don't worry, he's seen the inspector."

There was an indignant shout from somewhere to their left. Kami's gray eyes narrowed when he saw a tall middle-aged man holding Ginkaku's arm while Kinkaku tried to free his twin brother. Instantly, Kami was striding towards the small group.

"Listen, kid, I'm telling you right now that I'm not into blonds," the man told Kinkaku. "So your brother and I'll just be off and you can stay here, 'kay?"

"And I'm telling you that if you want one of us, you'll have to get both of us!" Kinkaku said angrily. "So if you're not going to pay for me too, let go of my brother!"

Ginkaku cried out in pain as the man's hold visibly tightened on him. Angrily, Kami strode up to stand behind the man and kicked the back of his knee with his booted foot. The man's legs buckled and he let go of the younger prostitute's arm as he cried out in surprise.

"Stay away from them if you know what's good for you," Kami said coldly as he shepherded the younger males towards their group. "Unless you want Selene," he jerked his head in Homura's direction, "to find out you've been harassing the twins."

The moment they got back to the bar, Gojyo was gone and Nataku was in the process of walking off with someone. Goku was steadfastly refusing to look at his friend and instead hurried over to ask if Ginkaku was alright.


The red-haired one is staggering down the street, one hand against the walls of the buildings as he totters on heels that add to his already impressive height. The whore's muttering something about prissy blonds who send people home while they're drinking and as he passes by a streetlamp, he can see the vestiges of tear tracks.

He doesn't stop to wonder why the redhead's crying and instead carefully and quietly walks up behind him. He places a proprietary hand on his elbow when he staggers. The redhead yanks his arm free and snarls over his shoulder, "I don't need your help."

Such fire, even in such an inebriated state. This one was going to be fun to play with.

He takes hold of the taller man's arm again and practically drags him into a nearby alley. The bag of instruments he brought with him for his next kill bounces against his thigh as he walks. The redhead struggles a bit, trying to break free, but there's too much alcohol in his system for him to do anything.

He opens his bag one-handedly as he drags the whore even deeper into the smelly alley. He pulls a scalpel out of the bag. When the redhead opens his mouth, probably to curse him, he moves quickly and grabs his tongue, pulling it out. With a slash, he cuts it off and watches with gleaming eyes as the whore's blood rushes out over the front of his dress. Eyes widen in shock and pain and he sees that they're bright red.

They'll go along well with his emerald pair at home.

With that pleasant thought in mind, he leans in and kisses the whore. He drinks in his blood and pulls back a bit, licking his lips. The redhead's hands clamp down on his arms as he slowly drowns in his own blood.

He pushes her against the alley wall violently, using his scalpel to shred the whore's skirts to pieces. He grabs one long leg and holds it up in the air even as he thrusts into the warm body in front of him.

The redhead makes a gurgling sound of pain and tries to push him away but the attempt to break free is weak and the life is slowly draining out of the bright red eyes. He leans in and licks up some of the blood running down the pale neck.

He thrusts in and out of the whore and the hand not holding his leg up in the air moves to close around his neck. Even as the redhead dies, he strangles him. The blood under his palm is warm and slowly cooling.

He comes thinking about what he'll do to the tall body beneath the black dress.


Homura ruffled Nataku's hair comfortingly. "It'll be fine. I think I can earn enough for the both of us."

The younger man looked up at his roommate and frowned. "It's not fair. I should be out there helping you, not sitting here at home and twiddling my thumbs!"

"You'll be doing housework and I think it's about time someone went grocery shopping." Homura adjusted the small hat perched on top of his head and looked at himself in the mirror. "Do you think this is too much?" he asked Nataku, meeting the golden-eyed teen's gaze in the mirror.

"I think it's too little," Nataku mumbled, not looking at his roommate who was just wearing the hat, panties, a garter belt, and fishnet stockings. "Shouldn't you wear a dress before trying on accessories?"

"I do things my own way," the older man said enigmatically as he began removing the pins that held the hat in place. "Anyway. It's settled; you're staying here."


"You're staying here until this entire Jack the Ripper thing stops," Homura said firmly, his mismatched eyes hard as he pinned Nataku under his gaze. "The moment you were dumped outside my apartment you became my responsibility and you are staying here."

"Fine." Nataku hugged his knees as he curled up into himself on the bed. His eyes were blank as he watched his—by all accounts—father moving around their small dingy apartment, getting ready for 'work'. When he was done, he picked up his coat and sat down beside Nataku on their shared bed.

"Doesn't daddy get a good-bye kiss from his baby?" His tone wasn't quite cheerful but he was trying and Nataku gave him a quick peck on the cheek before flopping down to lie on the bed.

"I'm still angry at you," he mumbled. He felt the older man pat his shoulder before the sound of the door opening and closing reached his ears.


"Still no lead, Constable?"

Dokugakuji looked up from the scattered papers on his desk to meet the bright blue gaze of Detective Inspector Grouse. "There's nothing, sir. All we've determined so far is that the killer's someone who's left-handed and has some medical knowledge."

"Where was the second body found?"

The black-haired police officer tried not to bristle under the brisk tone of voice his higher-up was using on him. The smarmy bastard hadn't shown any interest in the two murders until now. What was with the sudden interest? "In the backyard of Twenty-nine Hanbury Street, Spitalfields. Like the first victim, this one was severely mutilated."

"He was one of those cross dressing prostitutes, was he not?"


Grouse ran a hand through his silver hair. "Well, I need to be off, Constable. Please inform me of any new developments on the case."

"Will do, sir."


"It's been more than three weeks since the last murder. The first two were within a week of each other," the man said, leaning in close. "I think it's safe to go back to my place. 'Sides, I'll protect you from the big bad Ripper."

Kougaiji crossed his arms. "We do it in the rooms upstairs or we don't do it at all," he said icily.

"Ginger, doll, you're way too pretty do be stuck in those dirty rooms. Let me take you to my place. My bed's got silk sheets and there's high class wine in my cellar."

Lilac eyes narrowed. "No."

The man grabbed Kougaiji's arm and he yanked the redhead closer. "Look here, you—"

The end of a cane was suddenly pointed at the pushy man's nose. "Ginger obviously doesn't want to go with you. And if nothing else, I let my girls choose who their companions for the night will be. So I suggest you stop manhandling my wares and shove off."

Kougaiji looked over his shoulder at Zakuro. The pimp was glaring at the man in front of him, cane ready to jab the would-be customer's eye at the first sign of trouble. "Go back to the others, Ginger," Zakuro said, light green eyes still not leaving the customer's face.

"You're not worth the trouble," the man said before turning around and leaving.

"You alright, doll?" the pimp asked when the man walked out the pub's door.

"I'm fine, sir," the redhead replied evenly. "Thank you. But I could have handled things myself."

"Well, with the Ripper thing going on, I can't be too careful about my property," the lavender-haired man said off-handedly. "Well, I'm off to scout for guys to send your way. Hopefully, they'll be more palatable than that thug."

"Thank you, sir." Kougaiji turned around and made his way towards the bar.

As he was ordering a drink from the bartender, Homura appeared beside him. "You okay?" the black-haired man asked.

"I feel a bit patronized and objectified. Other than that, I'm fine." Kougaiji downed half the shot in one go. "How's Nataku? Still sulking?"

"More or less." Homura sat down beside his friend.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kougaiji saw a tall slim man entering the pub. "I'm off to earn my keep," the redhead said, abruptly standing up and almost upsetting his shot glass. "Can you tell Rampa not to wait up for me if I'm late?"

"Of course."

The redhead stood up and adjusted his gloves as he made his way towards the slim man.


He leaves the body where it lies. After a moment's consideration, he bends down to wipe his instruments clean on the ripped lilac fabric of the redhead's dress. Almost as an afterthought, he cuts out the eyes as well. Not as bright as the ruby pair or the emerald but just as lovely in its own right.


"If I didn't know better, Constable, I'd say you knew this young man."

Dokugakuji tried not to hit his superior's smirking face and replied, "He just reminds me of someone I know, sir." He was lying through his teeth but the silver-haired man didn't seem to notice.

He was saved from another comment when the police surgeon arrived. Grouse turned around to greet him and Dokugakuji closed his eyes and tried to ignore the stench surrounding the crime scene.

If only he'd been able to protect the younger redheaded officer from the snide comments and harassing he'd endured at the precinct. Maybe he wouldn't have abandoned the job in search of another one that he'd never find. He wouldn't have ended up whoring himself off. And he'd probably still be alive.

Dokugakuji opened his midnight blue eyes and clenched his fists. There was nothing he could do now except catch the psychotic bastard that had killed his friend. It was the least he could do after letting Kougaiji down in so many ways.



25 Sept. 1888

Dear Boss,

I keep hearing that the police have caught me. But they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I shall do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good luck.

Yours truly
Jack the Ripper

Dont mind me giving the trade name

PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha



He was going to die.

Nataku looked up at the man who was dragging him along the street and knew he was going to die. A knife was pressed against the golden-eyed teen's side, hidden by the coat the stranger had thrown around his shoulders. They merely looked like a man keeping his young lady companion warm while they took an evening stroll.

He wasn't even sure where they were already. The streets were unfamiliar and the place seemed more crowded. Nataku bowed his head, hair falling around his face in a dark curtain, and looked at his bloodless hands peeping out from under the material of the coat as they held the front closed.

"We're almost there, pretty one," the tall man said, putting more pressure on the knife so that the tip pierced the fabric of Nataku's bodice and nestled against his skin. The lunatic had forced him to dress up in his work clothes. At least they provided more warmth than his regular ones.

The stranger suddenly stopped and Nataku stumbled a bit at the abrupt halt. "This will do," his kidnapper hissed.

The world exploded in pain.


"Homura! Open this door!"

"You have to eat, Homura!"

"Open this door!"

Moving slowly, the black-haired man stood up and crossed his small apartment, opening the door. Sanzo and Rampa stood in the hallway, both in men's clothes since it was just late afternoon. The purple-eyed man glared at him and shouldered his way into the apartment, the meeker blond following behind him.

"What do you want from me?" Homura asked, his voice as lifeless as his mismatched eyes.

Rampa wrung his hands together. "We know you want to be alone, and I can understand—"

"Zakuro's getting pissed," Sanzo interrupted. "He wants you to get back to work."

"I can't."

"Why the Hell not?"

Rampa looked at the other blond, yellow-green eyes wide. "Sanzo, I can't believe you're being so insensitive!"


"What if Goku had been the one killed?" Rampa challenged.

Silence descended in the small apartment. Homura sat down on a threadbare sofa and looked at his hands where they lay on his lap. Sanzo ground his teeth together as Rampa approached the black-haired man. "Homura…I know it's been hard on you finding out about Nataku's murder on top of Kougaiji's but I'm—we're—worried about you. You haven't left your apartment for a month. When was the last time you actually ate a full meal?"

"I've been eating," Homura countered. He didn't tell them that his money had run out a couple of weeks ago and his food supply was currently half a loaf of stale bread. "And I'm not going back to work. There's no point anymore."

"Gojyo went back to work," Sanzo snapped. "He might've drunk his ass off, but he went to that godforsaken pub every damn night until he was killed."

"Maybe I'm not as strong as Gojyo was!" Homura shouted. He stood up abruptly from the sofa and moved so that he and Sanzo were face-to-face. Rampa's mouth opened in surprise as he watched the other two males, hands half-raised in a half-hearted placating gesture.

Purple locked onto mismatched blue and gold. For a moment, Homura felt like punching Sanzo. What did he know about losing someone important? Goku was still alive and well while Nataku was dead, mutilated and violated, his left kidney missing along with a large chunk of his thigh.

Abruptly, Sanzo turned around and began walking towards the door. "Let's go, Rampa."

The other blond hesitated for a moment but followed suit, leaving a pouch—probably filled with money—on the sofa. "Take care of yourself," he said, closing the door softly behind him.



I was not codding dear old Boss when I gave you the tip, you'll hear about Saucy Jacky's work tomorrow double event this time number one squealed a bit couldn't finish straight off. Had not time to get ears off for police thanks for keeping last letter back till I got to work again.

Jack the Ripper



From hell

Mr Lusk,
I send you half the Kidne I took from one woman prasarved it for you tother piece I fried and ate it was very nise. I may send you the bloody knif that took it out if you only wate a whil longer

Catch me when you can Mishter Lusk


"Goku! Where the Hell are you?" Extremely pissed off by now, Sanzo marched across the street, picking up his skirts to keep them from dragging in the mud. He probably shouldn't have shouted at the brunet but the younger male had been getting on his nerves, constantly hanging around at his elbow, afraid that the blond would disappear like Nataku if he wasn't beside him.

So now he was chasing after the little brat after he had run out of the pub. Sanzo cursed his own stupidity and stopped a woman walking by if she had seen the brunet.

She eyed Sanzo's dress, an unreadable expression on her face, as she answered his query. "Sorry, dear. Haven't seen him."

The blond was contemplating throttling the next living thing he came across when a man approached him and said, "Excuse me, but I was almost run over by a young lady fitting your description just a few minutes ago. I could show you which direction she went."

"Thanks," Sanzo replied, silently thanking whatever gods may be. He followed the man, thinking about how hard he was going to hit the monkey upside the head for being such an idiot.


Kami was walking home with Ginkaku and Kinkaku, the twins in front of him as they made their way back to their apartment. The two of them were comparing bracelets that one of their regular clients had given them and Kami had to smile at their banter.

A bit further down the street, a man was walking in their direction, shoulders hunched against the cold night wind. As they neared one another, Kami saw a flash of steel in the man's hand as it came up and aimed at the younger twin.

"Ginkaku! Move!" Kami shouted as he pushed the younger male out of the knife's reach. He cried out in pain as the knife slashed through his bodice and waist, blood welling up from the wound. Kami barely managed to dodge another swipe aimed at his heart, booted feet stumbling as he felt sticky wetness seep into the fabric of his dress. He dimly thought that Zakuro was going to be mad at him for ruining the expensive outfit that he'd provided.

The man grabbed his arm and shoved him against the wall of a nearby building. His assailant lifted his arm, the moonlight glinting off the bloody knife. There was a shout and Kinkaku hurled himself at the man, throwing both of them to the ground. Ginkaku threw a rock at the stranger and began kicking him as Kinkaku bit and scratched.

Kami crumpled to the ground, clutching at his side, blood seeping through his fingers. His vision was blurring around the edges and he barely saw the man managing to escape from the twins. He made a half-hearted slash at Ginkaku before turning around and running away.

The last thing Kami saw was Ginkaku kneeling beside him as Kinkaku screamed for help.


Dokugakuji knew that he was playing with fire but he just couldn't resist the temptation. "If I didn't know better, sir, I'd say you knew him." His midnight blue eyes met bright blue ones as Grouse's mouth thinned and whitened as he pressed his lips together.

The two of them were at the latest crime scene, the mutilated corpse lying a few feet away. Other officers were busy keeping the crowd at bay while a police surgeon inspected the body. The inspector glared at his subordinate but didn't say anything, obviously thinking that being the better man, he should act like it.

Dokugakuji let Grouse keep his illusions and instead focused on the blond that had been unfortunate enough to run into Ripper. The black-haired constable pulled a notebook out of his pocket and began his report, ignoring the sharp bright blue gaze that was still focused on him. "The last person who saw…her was Yaone Houtou. We interviewed Ms. Houtou and she told us that Sunshine—real name Kouryuu Sanzo—had walked down Osborn Street with a tall slender young man. She didn't see his face; his hat was pulled low and the collar of his coat was turned up."

Grouse barely seemed to be listening to what he was saying. His arms were crossed and his eyes were hard as they looked at Dokugakuji. "Is that all, constable?" he said evenly, voice cold.

"I forgot to mention one detail, sir," the black-haired constable said, flipping through his notes. "The corpse is missing its eyes."

That bright blue gaze moved to look at the dead body. The other policemen were in the process of wrapping it up in preparation for transfer. "Why can't we catch you?" he said angrily.

Dokugakuji echoed the sentiment.


Chin Iisou looked at his collection of eyes. They each floated in their own small jars full of formalin, bright irises reflecting the light of the single uncovered bulb in the room. Emerald, ruby, lilac, amber, amethyst…Sad that he hadn't come across one with sapphire eyes. And the rest of the people he'd killed didn't have eyes worth taking. The detective inspector had a pair but he was strictly off-limits as far as Iisou was concerned.

Oh well. It had been a good haul. Now it was time to leave for different hunting grounds. Carefully, he wrapped the small jars in cloth and packed them in a large suitcase, nestling them beside his knives and daggers.

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