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fandomweekly2021-08-09 05:42 pm
arknes) wrote in fandomweekly2021-08-09 05:42 pm
Entry tags:
[#103] Shocker (Ayatsuri Sakon)
Theme Prompt: #103 - The Jungle
Title: Shocker
Fandom: Ayatsuri Sakon
Rating/Warnings: Teen & Up, Murder Mystery, yo!
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 998
Summary: Nothing should surprise him at this point, but, of course, things do.
People always said, "Expect the unexpected," and there were few things that caught Sakon off-guard in the company of Ukon, his beloved puppet, but there remained exceptions. Murder stayed an exception, no matter how many times he discovered another cruelly creative way of stringing somebody up and casting away their lives.
Toppling them with a statue (which really, he'd seen twice by age sixteen), classic garroting, throwing a man into a lava pit for revenge, cyanide needles, decapitation with a razor-wire— people were indeed truly creative. So when Kaoruko offered to take him abroad for a little recreational fun and her increasing attempts to 'bag a man' before thirty, he initially declined. His dream was to travel and traverse Japan as a wandering puppeteer, not the entire world. Besides, international travel was a magnet for macabre murders.
He acknowledged it, knew it, and after caving into his aunt's incessant pleas, he resigned himself to mosquito bites, chance infections, the danger of the jungle, and the imminent fate of encountering a corpse.
Yet somehow, he'd managed to be surprised by this.
It was not a jungle murder in the traditional sense. Nothing utilized the jungle, exactly. The pretty vacation house, built of sturdy wood and enshrouded in local fauna and flora, teemed with people aching to explore the wilderness, but, of course, a murder happened. But it wasn't a jungle murder. First, a European medieval sword speared through a larded man's chest, which, on the surface, didn't appear to be that odd, relatively calm in its slight eccentricity. Then came the second murder, a pink-faced, muscled expedition leader gored with the a funeral incense container positioned at a checkpoint. The third victim, a short, stocky gentleman, had been poisoned with a fish sauce made from fermented anchovies and tetra-Methylene- Disulfotetramine, a rat poison. And so on.
All this on a trip to the jungle. The jungle. No clever hanging with vines, no local herbs— all weirdly familiar but not quite so stuff. At least Sakon faired well regarding murders.
Sakon sighed. As he walked the trail, eyes ahead of him at all times, his legs throbbed with a new ache, sweat beating at his neck, a bead rolling down the side of his face as he sucked in a deep breath. His twitched, leg itching again.
The incline hurt, burning his legs. The decline hurt, legs throbbing even harder. Still, his brain was glad for the new stimulation and awed at the difference between this lush, diverse forest and his lovely homeland. Now and then, a black beak would peek out of the trees, or a colorful stray bird, startled by the human intrusion, would fly off, circling the crescent moon before disappearing into the jungle canopy. He supposed it was beautiful and like an alternate version of home, just so far away. Of course, it was. To get lost for a while and hear nothing but the sounds of nature and the murmurs of vague life and still feel connected to what remained, despite his situation and stress, was something Sakon had always cherished, even if it were only in stressful moments he'd arrive at such revelations.
He lost himself in the light. He let nature carry him along, hiking there, then back, then to the first crime scene. Kaoruko walked along with him.
"Hey, Sakon," She nudged his side, snapping him out of his daze.
Sakon blinked, fog over his eyes before he rubbed them, blinking. Right, the murder investigation.
Kaoruko threw an arm over his shoulder, setting her chin atop his head, grinning. "You look tired," she teased, but she was bare-faced, baggy-eyed, and she wasn't her usual loud, perky, bright self. As though Sakon could blame her. "Think you can solve it before me?" Again, she grinned, a familiar spark in her eyes.
"I'm fine, nee-san." Sakon put his hands up in defense, attempting a smile that only came across as weird and half-assed, "A little exhausted."
Then, he giggled, cheeks taking a warmer flush as he dragged his puppet from his box.
"If I'm with Ukon, of course."
--
And so he was with Ukon, calm, collected, and no longer registering the dull throb of his muscles or other trivial matters— pure calm and collection. Sharp eyes grazed over the intricate details: a piece of broken glass, shattered outward rather than inward, a bent knob, and the toppled furniture. The medieval sword belonged to a European enthusiast, Thomas Keeling, but Sakon doubted such a man would do it. His instincts (and Ukon) knew best.
"Can I borrow your magnifying glass?" Sakon asked, holding his hand out to his aunt.
She deposited the toolkit in his palm wordlessly, along with a journal of the time, dates, and alibis for the murder. Sakon murmured a grateful thank you, unzipping the compact pouch.
"Are you sure you need all that?" Ukon looked him up and down with a smug smile.
Sakon shrugged.
"Okay, Indiana Jones." Ukon scoffed as Sakon grabbed the magnifying glass, rolling up his tan sleeves and smoothing his pants. Ukon shook his head, watching.
One knee in the dirt, he held the glass down, inspecting the earth for clues.
A shard of different glass. Interesting. Sakon would pick up the red fiber later.
"Nah, Sherlock Holmes."
Laughing gently, Sakon bent down, plucking the shard with tweezers. He examined the glass under low light. Something glinted, glimmering. It wasn't the clear, rainbow fractal glass produced— it was something else entirely different.
"I think," Sakon furrows his brows, biting his lip, "there's something on here."
Walking a few paces into brighter light, Sakon paused, then his arm extended upward. Sunlight filtered through the glass again. It was a mosaic blue. One of the most beautiful aspects of the houses was their handmade mosaics. Each house had a unique one, and most weren't blue but rather red. For example, the east cabin had a blue mosaic and a scarlet carpet.
"Ah," Sakon hummed, "It's all coming together."
Title: Shocker
Fandom: Ayatsuri Sakon
Rating/Warnings: Teen & Up, Murder Mystery, yo!
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 998
Summary: Nothing should surprise him at this point, but, of course, things do.
People always said, "Expect the unexpected," and there were few things that caught Sakon off-guard in the company of Ukon, his beloved puppet, but there remained exceptions. Murder stayed an exception, no matter how many times he discovered another cruelly creative way of stringing somebody up and casting away their lives.
Toppling them with a statue (which really, he'd seen twice by age sixteen), classic garroting, throwing a man into a lava pit for revenge, cyanide needles, decapitation with a razor-wire— people were indeed truly creative. So when Kaoruko offered to take him abroad for a little recreational fun and her increasing attempts to 'bag a man' before thirty, he initially declined. His dream was to travel and traverse Japan as a wandering puppeteer, not the entire world. Besides, international travel was a magnet for macabre murders.
He acknowledged it, knew it, and after caving into his aunt's incessant pleas, he resigned himself to mosquito bites, chance infections, the danger of the jungle, and the imminent fate of encountering a corpse.
Yet somehow, he'd managed to be surprised by this.
It was not a jungle murder in the traditional sense. Nothing utilized the jungle, exactly. The pretty vacation house, built of sturdy wood and enshrouded in local fauna and flora, teemed with people aching to explore the wilderness, but, of course, a murder happened. But it wasn't a jungle murder. First, a European medieval sword speared through a larded man's chest, which, on the surface, didn't appear to be that odd, relatively calm in its slight eccentricity. Then came the second murder, a pink-faced, muscled expedition leader gored with the a funeral incense container positioned at a checkpoint. The third victim, a short, stocky gentleman, had been poisoned with a fish sauce made from fermented anchovies and tetra-Methylene- Disulfotetramine, a rat poison. And so on.
All this on a trip to the jungle. The jungle. No clever hanging with vines, no local herbs— all weirdly familiar but not quite so stuff. At least Sakon faired well regarding murders.
Sakon sighed. As he walked the trail, eyes ahead of him at all times, his legs throbbed with a new ache, sweat beating at his neck, a bead rolling down the side of his face as he sucked in a deep breath. His twitched, leg itching again.
The incline hurt, burning his legs. The decline hurt, legs throbbing even harder. Still, his brain was glad for the new stimulation and awed at the difference between this lush, diverse forest and his lovely homeland. Now and then, a black beak would peek out of the trees, or a colorful stray bird, startled by the human intrusion, would fly off, circling the crescent moon before disappearing into the jungle canopy. He supposed it was beautiful and like an alternate version of home, just so far away. Of course, it was. To get lost for a while and hear nothing but the sounds of nature and the murmurs of vague life and still feel connected to what remained, despite his situation and stress, was something Sakon had always cherished, even if it were only in stressful moments he'd arrive at such revelations.
He lost himself in the light. He let nature carry him along, hiking there, then back, then to the first crime scene. Kaoruko walked along with him.
"Hey, Sakon," She nudged his side, snapping him out of his daze.
Sakon blinked, fog over his eyes before he rubbed them, blinking. Right, the murder investigation.
Kaoruko threw an arm over his shoulder, setting her chin atop his head, grinning. "You look tired," she teased, but she was bare-faced, baggy-eyed, and she wasn't her usual loud, perky, bright self. As though Sakon could blame her. "Think you can solve it before me?" Again, she grinned, a familiar spark in her eyes.
"I'm fine, nee-san." Sakon put his hands up in defense, attempting a smile that only came across as weird and half-assed, "A little exhausted."
Then, he giggled, cheeks taking a warmer flush as he dragged his puppet from his box.
"If I'm with Ukon, of course."
--
And so he was with Ukon, calm, collected, and no longer registering the dull throb of his muscles or other trivial matters— pure calm and collection. Sharp eyes grazed over the intricate details: a piece of broken glass, shattered outward rather than inward, a bent knob, and the toppled furniture. The medieval sword belonged to a European enthusiast, Thomas Keeling, but Sakon doubted such a man would do it. His instincts (and Ukon) knew best.
"Can I borrow your magnifying glass?" Sakon asked, holding his hand out to his aunt.
She deposited the toolkit in his palm wordlessly, along with a journal of the time, dates, and alibis for the murder. Sakon murmured a grateful thank you, unzipping the compact pouch.
"Are you sure you need all that?" Ukon looked him up and down with a smug smile.
Sakon shrugged.
"Okay, Indiana Jones." Ukon scoffed as Sakon grabbed the magnifying glass, rolling up his tan sleeves and smoothing his pants. Ukon shook his head, watching.
One knee in the dirt, he held the glass down, inspecting the earth for clues.
A shard of different glass. Interesting. Sakon would pick up the red fiber later.
"Nah, Sherlock Holmes."
Laughing gently, Sakon bent down, plucking the shard with tweezers. He examined the glass under low light. Something glinted, glimmering. It wasn't the clear, rainbow fractal glass produced— it was something else entirely different.
"I think," Sakon furrows his brows, biting his lip, "there's something on here."
Walking a few paces into brighter light, Sakon paused, then his arm extended upward. Sunlight filtered through the glass again. It was a mosaic blue. One of the most beautiful aspects of the houses was their handmade mosaics. Each house had a unique one, and most weren't blue but rather red. For example, the east cabin had a blue mosaic and a scarlet carpet.
"Ah," Sakon hummed, "It's all coming together."
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