Mutants: Normal

3-6: Accusation

"Yeah, we're overthinking this," Ranulf agreed reluctantly, shooting Pierre a strange look before continuing: "Let's move on to the murders." He bent over a closed suitcase, unzipped it, and pulled out a thick white binder resting on top of some clothes and devices Zero had only used in practice. "We've got a hard copy of all the information we've gathered so far, and a soft one I'm keeping in here"—he patted a pocket of his coat—"so you guys should all take the time to read it before jumping to any conclusions. Any sort of input would be helpful at this time."

Something we can volunteer that you can't figure out yourself? There was doubt in Zero's mind that something like that was possible considering Ranulf's intellect which he tried so hard to be humble about. "Say," Zero started, not able to resist his impulse, "Ranulf, don't you come here around the time when these murders happen?"

"Yeah," Ranulf said, "I'm called here to look out for anything suspicious, but I never find anything of the sort." Still leaning against the wall, Pierre shifted slightly. His eyes were closed, but he seemed to have shifted from resting to listening.

Well... "Is that really true?" Zero asked, despite himself. After it left his mouth, he realized the question sounded a bit accusatory. Wait, was it my imagination, or did Ranulf just stiffen?

There was sound of muffled laughter from beside the wall. "Perhaps the culprit is a bit smarter than we give him credit for," Pierre cut in quietly. Everyone strained to hear him. "And perhaps the rest of our teammates are sharper than we give them credit for. I say we stay here and hunt him down." A ghost of a smile crept onto his usually emotionless face.

"We'll see," Ranulf said, shooting him a look. Zero regretted turning to look at Pierre; if there had ever been anything aside from slight annoyance at Pierre displayed on his mentor's face, it was gone now. Ranulf handed the thick binder to Zero. "You can read over it before going to sleep tonight. We can talk more in the morning."

"Yeah..." Am I imagining things? Since his first meeting with Ranulf and Pierre at the trial, Zero had learned to trust his gut, and his gut told him Ranulf was hiding something. While the idea of his mentor hiding things had always been commonplace, if this time it involved a serial murder case, Zero wasn't sure if it would be right to let him have his privacy. But why would you hide something like this? From the sense of justice Ranulf had, he should have been just as eager to put a murderer behind bars as any justice official.

So why?

"I guess we should go to our rooms then," Fang noted, interrupting Zero's thoughts. His gaze was trained at an analog clock that was hanging on the wall between and above the two beds in the room. "It's nine o'clock."

"The galas have already started," Ranulf mused absentmindedly. "If anyone wants to watch them..." Zero could tell his mentor was no longer in the mood to be festive as he had been earlier. If his hat had been off, his ears would be slightly drooped. "But don't forget to read over the files!"

"I guess I'll just get that over with, then go to bed. We've got a long day ahead of us, don't we," Shuigu complained, turning for the door. "We won't be of any use if we're too sleepy to get up."

"Wait!" Ranulf bellowed cheerfully—though it felt more intimidating than happy—to Shuigu. "You'll be sleeping in this room. I'll make sure you don't get too tired." There was an evil glint in his eye." Zero, you don't mind joining Fang and Pierre for the night, do you?"

"Not at all," Zero said, thinking that he would in no way disobey Ranulf's orders the rest of the evening. Though he still believed he should trust his gut, he also felt bad for making his mentor uncomfortable on such a festive evening. Should have just kept my mouth shut. "Goodnight," he murmured, following Pierre and Fang as they filed out of the room.

They had been specific about which rooms because of danger precautions, so they had asked for two rooms right next to each other. Pierre unlocked the door 6025 next to Ranulf's with his cardkey and went inside. Zero was about to follow when Fang grabbed him by the shirt. "Wait," he said, closing the door so that Zero couldn't enter.

"What?" Zero demanded in an unnecessarily cranky voice, but he couldn't help it. He was already annoyed at himself for ruining a festive evening for his mentor, whom he respected deeply. And now Fang was standing in his way of being productive for the rest of the evening (with the shameful mood he was in, he had ruined the chances of himself enjoying the evening as well, so productivity was the next best thing).

"Zero," Fang said, calmly ignoring Zero's irritation. He kept his voice to a minimum, though his body was tense. "Why did you accuse Ranulf of being involved in the murders like that?" Of course he noticed it. "How dare you accuse him of being involved?" Despite his attempt at self-control, the volume of his voice increased slightly with the second question.

"It just slipped out," Zero said, unsure of what to do. "I'm sorry." He felt genuinely bad for saying what he did, and he never seen Fang this angered for another person before. Yet something inside him told him that he shouldn't admit he had been completely wrong.

"It's not me you should be apologizing to." Fang hissed disdainfully, as if he had hoped for something better. "Whatever." He let go of Zero's shirt, still looking mad on Ranulf's behalf. Fang was sharp, Zero knew, and Zero recognized that Fang probably noticed that the apology didn't cover admitting being wrong about what had been pointed out.

Whatever. I don't want to think about this anymore. Zero straightened the collar of his t-shirt before going through the doorway. Fang entered after him and closed the door. One scan around the room showed that Pierre was already fast asleep in the middle of his bed, his head resting on his arm and his hair splayed over the pillow. When Pierre wasn't awake, Zero saw the beauty in his features that was usually overshadowed by his stony expression. In the looks department, he was as attractive as Fang; he was just also infinitely scarier.

The other observation Zero made was that there was only one bed left in the room.

"Um, I could sleep on the floor if you want that bed," Zero suggested, trying to lighten Fang's dark expressiondds as he shrugged off his sweater and threw it across a chair which already had Pierre's overcoat over it. Normally, Zero would have hung his clothes up neatly, but tonight he wasn't in the mood.

"No thanks," Fang replied curtly, turning around. Zero didn't blame him for not cheering up—it was difficult to cheer someone else up when you yourself weren't happy. In a few quick motions, Fang took off his leather jacket and threw it aside, then proceeded to remove his shirt underneath and ripped two holes in the back of it near his shoulder blades. With his back facing Zero, Zero saw the huge, brown wings that were usually concealed. They were folded so that no one would be able to tell that there was a lump beneath his shirt.

Fang slipped his shirt on again. "I think I'll sleep outside today. I read the documents before leaving anyways." He opened a window and jumped.

"Fang!" Zero called, rushing to the window. But in the darkness, all he could see was Fang's unclear silhouette fading in the distance, his wings spread at full span, gliding away.