The Three Orange Pips {Part 2}

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Hatake leaned back in his seat, deep in thought.

I turned to the young woman as the consulting detective pondered her case. "How rude of me, I don't believe that I ever introduced myself. Dr. Jin Watanabe," I said with a smile, drawing the lady's attention away from my friend for the first time since she walked into the room.

"Rin Nohara," she replied with a graceful tip of her head, and strangely, I could have sworn that I saw Hatake flinch almost imperceptibly in my peripheral vision. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Watanabe."

"Likewise. If you want, I can see if Genma can prepare the unit upstairs for you. It's not fully furnished so he doesn't rent it out, but it should do if you need some place to stay out of the rain."

Nohara opened her mouth to respond, but was quickly cut off by Hatake who had snapped back to awareness with harsh abruptness. "Were you followed?"

"No," she replied. "I was on high-alert the entire way; I would have noticed."

"Good," he nodded and steepled his fingers. "Even though I'm not technically the police, I still do not think that the Shinobi Swordsmen would take kindly to the fact that you sought me out for help. My name and address are fairly well-known in the world of crime-fighting, and it would be best if no one knows that you were here. Dr. Watanabe and I will go to visit you in the morning and stay there for as long as it takes to ensure your safety. I know the weather's poor, but it'd be safest for you to get back tonight."

"My coach and driver are still outside; it should be no problem for me to return tonight," she replied.

"Your driver?"

Nohara nodded, "Akebino has been with my family since before my parent's death. He doesn't know about the threat, though. I've told no one else for fear that they could also be put in danger simply by knowing."

"Very good. Now, you shouldn't spend any more time here than absolutely necessary. Doctor," I looked up from the teacup in my hands, "see if you can get Miss Nohara something dry to wear."

"Of course," I stood and gestured for our client to follow as I made my way to my room, closing the door behind the two of us and turning to my wardrobe. She was slightly shorter than I so I pulled out a deep purple dress that I rarely wore, mostly because it was a full dress and I prefer shirts and skirts but also since it was a bit too short, stopping just above my ankles. I handed it to her before leaving quietly and returning to the sitting room.

A few minutes later, Nohara returned, and I had to internally admit that she looked much better in the dress than I ever did. Hatake helped her into her coat as I held the folded pile of the clothes that she came in before the two of us led her down to the door, handing her the umbrella and giving every assurance that we'd call on her first thing in the morning. Hatake watched through the barely opened door as Nohara raced through the freezing, pouring rain to sit in her coach before her driver cracked the reins, sending the two of them off into the night.

The consulting detective stepped back to shut to door and slide the locks into place before freezing, eyes fixed on the floor near his feet.

With all the speed of molasses, he knelt down to pick up a piece of paper. Flipping it over, his eyes went wide as he read, and for the first time ever, I saw something akin to fear flash across his gaze.

"Hatake?" He acted as though he hadn't heard me. "Hatake, what's wrong? What does it say?"

"It must have been dropped through the mail slot while Rin was here," he muttered, running a hand back through his hair.

"What is it?" I asked once more, starting to feel terror build up in my gut at Hatake's uncharacteristic behavior.

Wordlessly, he passed it over to me, and my eyes grew wide as they scanned the page.

"'I see no real difference between a consulting detective and the police,'" he said aloud, the short message memorized. "It's the same handwriting as the threat. I've just sent Rin to her death."

A wave of vertigo hit hard, inverting the world momentarily as the slip of paper fluttered from my hands and my heart raced until the world righted itself again. I was barely able to stay on my feet.

I pressed a hand over my mouth, "Is there anything we can do?"

"There's no catching a cab in this weather, and her coach is long gone." He started to pace in the small entryway. "The police station is only three blocks from here; it's our best bet. There's someone there all hours of the day."

"But the threat said not to contact the police."

"That doesn't matter now," he started going back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. "She already reached out to us so now our only hope is catching up to her before it's too late."

He returned a second later with our coats and an umbrella.

"You can stay here, if you want," Hatake said while pulling his arms through the sleeves of his black, woolen coat.

"No, I want to go."

He simply nodded, probably having anticipated that response.

We stepped into the cold rain, and I placed my hand into the crook of his elbow as my flatmate held the umbrella above us. Without a moment to spare, we dashed through the empty streets.

Drenched from the waist down, we pulled open the door to the station, Hatake leading the way with his superior knowledge of its layout. There was a hallway filled with offices, and one had light seeping from under the door.

Hatake strode up to it and knocked loudly. The door swung open, and we were greeted by one of the tallest men I've ever seen. He was at least four inches above the six foot mark and had two thin scars going diagonally down his face from his left to right.

"Kakashi Hatake." His deep voice cut through the air, "What brings you here at this hour looking like a drowned rat?"

"Chief Inspector Morino," he replied, "I'm here to report a murder."

Morino's eyebrows rose considerably, "What?"

"Well, more accurately, I'm here to prevent a murder that will certainly occur if we're not fast enough."

"Stop dancing around in circles like a damn ballerina and tell me what the hell you're going on about. What's this you're saying about a murder?"

"About an hour ago, I had a client come by," Hatake started, his usual, calm tone once again taking over. "Her name was Rin Nohara, and she said that she'd received a threat on her life just under three months ago from the Shinobi Swordsmen of the Mist, a group of miscreants from the Land of Water. The threat stated that she couldn't reach out to the police without forfeiting her life so Miss Nohara contacted me because she only has a few days left before the allotted deadline. The group was asking for a set of documents that she did not posses as her uncle had burned them a year ago, and she asked me what she should do since she could not meet their demands. I was worried that they might consider her coming to visit me along the same lines as reaching out to the police so I asked if she had been followed, to which Miss Nohara responded with certainty that she hadn't. I advised her to go back to her home as soon as possible to prevent suspicion concerning her whereabouts to arise. Dr. Watanabe and I promised to call on her in the morning to continue investigating her case, but after she had left, we discovered a note on the floor that had been slipped in through the mail slot during her visit, claiming that that there was no difference between a consulting detective and the police. It was in the same writing as the threat. We rushed here as quickly as possible since there are no cabs about in this weather and have no way of catching up to Miss Nohara and warning her of the imminent danger."











A/N: Yes, I am totally aware of (and far too happy with) the irony that this is being posted on Valentine's Day.

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