A young tennis player was found dead from multiple stab wounds yesterday on her front drive.

Relatives discovered the body of Rui Saionji slumped outside her home in Juban.

Police believe that the 22-year-old woman was stabbed to death as she returned home at 11:30 pm.

Ms. Saionji sustained serious injuries in the frenzied attack and died at the scene.

Unknown wheel marks were found near the body, although neighbours alleged she didn’t own a car.

‘We are all devastated. This is a really quiet neighbourhood - everyone is petrified there is going to be another attack.’

Detective Chief Inspector, who is leading the murder investigation, said police had stepped up patrols in the town. She added: ‘Officers from Tokyo Police are making a number of enquiries to establish the circumstances surrounding this woman’s death. At this early stage we would appeal to anyone who saw anything untoward or anyone acting suspiciously in the area, particularly before or around 11:00 when she returned home, to call us.’

* * * * * * * *

They were gathered around a small table in a café near the park, like a normal group of friends from the nearby offices, even a group of students from the University, and, like everybody else, they were also discussing the news in the morning paper.

“I mean, there doesn’t appear to be a real motive behind it,” Jedite commented, still looking at the paper. “Might as well be our entity.”

“I suppose it can be possible,” Zoycite said, and turned to her lover.

“Anything on the subject, Neflyte?” Malachite asked, somehow trying to keep control over the conversation.

“No, not really.” He stared into his coffee as if searching for something. “I mean… Just this random girl found dead, happens everyday.”

Zoycite and Jedite looked at each other, while Malachite remained calm.

“We must investigate further, just in case,” the older man started. “Starting tonight we must have someone making rounds at night, keeping an eye on any abnormal activity near or concerning the crime scene…"

“I think someone must go to the funeral,” Neflyte suddenly interrupted.

“Suppose it might as well be you.” Malachite raised an eyebrow to his second in command. “In any case, Jedite must start with the night watch while I get inside the Police Department and check the body for anything that might be not quite human.”

Jedite and Zoycite exchanged glares again, both of them slightly irritated by the course of action.

“And what about me?” she snapped. “Should I just stay home and wait for you with a nice dinner?”

An uncomfortable silence fell around the table. The silver haired General turned to face his lover, with a look that lived up to his reputation as the “Ice king." This time, however, she didn’t back down from his imposing glance.

“This is neither the time nor the place to discuss personal issues,” he said, trying to keep an upper hand, yet somehow bewildered by her lack of response. “However, if it is what you wish, I suppose you can go and inspect the corpse yourself. After all, you already know what human weapons can or can not do to a body. But let me warn you, the sight of an earthian morgue is not as pleasant or half as hygienic as a negaversian one.”

“Well thank you, sir.” Her voice and face were calmed, yet her fist was tightly clenched under the table. “I believe I can deal with it.”

Jedite placed a reassuring hand over her wrist, discreetly enough not to be noticed by their first commander. Neflyte just looked at her and nodded softly in approval; somehow, that little display had earned her a point towards his respect.

* * * * * * * *

“That was very brave of you,” Jedite said to his fellow officer as they walked down the street away from the café. “He really needs to be brought back to the ground every once in a while.” He wasn’t surprised when Zoycite took her separate way from her lover once the meeting was over. The dissatisfaction was becoming increasingly evident on the female general as the days passed. If this goes on, I bet they’ll be over before this mission, he thought.

“It sucks, Jedite,” she said, with tears forming in the corners of her green eyes. “We’ve never, never needed to be away from each other just because we couldn’t stand being together.” Over her genuine grief, a small tint of her long gone French accent could be distinguished. That, as Jedite knew, was the difference between her tantrums and the times when something really hurt her.

“Don’t let it beat you,” he answered, unable to tell her that everything would be alright. “There’s more to you than he’ll ever see.” Damned his curse of sincerity, the blond haired general truthfully wished to believe there was something he could say that would, actually, made his friend feel better.

She smiled sadly:

“And there’s more to him than I’ll ever know.”

* * * * * * * *

She straightened herself a bit before entering the large building, doing her best to go unnoticed, yet attracting the attention from all the staff of the Tokyo P.D.. Not that they suspected anything about that strange woman walking down to the morgue: her I.D. was visible over the pocket of her lab coat. Yet she was a foreigner, some French mortician called by any superior officer to check the corpse of the tennis-girl (the nickname the P.D. had given Rui Saionji) for anything out of common. Nobody dared to question the presence of the golden haired woman, they just allowed her into the morgue; things surrounding the tennis-girl were strange enough, anyways.

“Madame Claudel, je suppose,” the young officer guarding the morgue said. His French is quite lousy, thought Zoycite.

“Mademoiselle, sil vou plait, je ne suis pas marié,” she answered, almost amused; but almost immediately regretting her personal slip up.

“Qui aurait pensé?” He smiled a little too flirty for her taste. “Entrée, la dame, ne laissent pas les cadavres

vous intimider.”

“Merci, Se vous plus tard.” Zoycite walked past the guarding post, not without giving him a second glance: she had seen this man before, although she couldn’t exactly remember where.*

A Japanese policeman speaking French? she asked herself once alone in the morgue. There were some other bodies lying on the tables: suicides and accidents; she shrugged, realizing Malachite had been right about those places. Maybe the most disturbing thing, at least for a woman used to war, had to be the smell: an awful stink that filled her nose and seemed to linger eternally once past the door. Zoycite almost felt sick.

The body of Rui Saionji didn’t look quite as damaged as Zoey would have thought; in fact, most of her wounds weren’t lethal. Actually, it would have been impossible for someone her age to be instantly killed by such wounds. Zoycite narrowed her green eyes. Something’s very wrong here; even the cut made for the autopsy wasn’t deep enough. Either the police reports are wrong or her wounds are healing after death.

She ran her fingers over the incision; there was some kind of energy flowing in there: nothing she had felt before, undeniably inhuman. She held her breath for a moment and considered teleporting back to Malachite, for no other reason than reporting her breakthrough; but she had already been acquainted by the guard and the last thing their mission needed was to raise any suspicious among the humans.

“Finished so soon, Miss Claudel?” He winked back at her as she tried to leave. Taking a closer look, the officer wasn’t as young as he appeared; maybe in his middle twenties and, definitely, older than Zoycite. His face wasn’t Japanese (and it amazed Zoycite that she hadn’t noticed that before), his eyes were a light shade of hazel and his hair was platinum blonde, not silver like Malachite’s, but with a reddish shade that caused the impression of a very light pink. I’ll remember you, Zoycite thought as she gave him a small nod for goodbye.

She walked into the apartment a bit uneasy, not really wanting to be there; there was some light in the bedroom, suggesting the presence of the older general. She closed the front door behind her, leaning against it. I must be strong, Zoycite said to herself as she walked down the hall. There was no sight of her lover in the bedroom, but the shower could be heard through a closed door in the corner. The female warrior sighed in relief and hurried to get her bag and pack some of her things; as depressing as it was, she couldn’t share his bed that night. She grabbed a small, green cell phone and placed it in her pocket. Jedite would be doing rounds all night and had told her to crash at the temple if she wanted.

Zoycite didn’t hear when the water stopped running, nor did she notice the man who had been watching her from the bathroom door until she turned around to leave.

* * * * * * * *

“Did you find anything?” he asked like he would have done any other time; it wasn’t until the small bag on the bed caught his eye, that Malachite realized just how different things were.

“I did, my lord.” The formality stung like a nail through his spine. “Although the reports claimed the girl had died from multiple stab wounds, not one of the injuries appeared to be lethal. Also, and most important, I ran an aura-scan and found some strange energy lingering within the corpse: it wasn’t negaversian energy, but it wasn’t human either. I’m going back there tomorrow to see the lab results from the surrounding area…”

“And where are you going now?” Malachite interrupted. She couldn’t tell, but the ‘Ice King’ was even willing to beg on his knees before loosing her.

“I’m staying at the temple,” Zoycite avoided his eyes, “with Jedite”

He braced himself against the doorframe; knowing he had it coming didn’t make things any easier. In that moment all his pride fell to the ground and he raised his silver eyes to meet the impassive, emerald ones. Something changed in that moment, when a painful smile adorned her pretty face and he felt even more naked than he already was.

“This is it?” he said; his voice still trying to conceal the despair evident in his eyes.

* * * * * * * *

Zoycite bit her lip and shook her head, unable to stand firm against the vision of her first commander, superior and trainer undressed both of his clothes and his divinity: definitely not the man she had fallen in love with six years before, but someone corporeal: a partner instead of an idol. She walked to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Stay like this,” Zoey whispered in his ear. “Don’t you dare to change back to your cold mask.”

A silver cell phone rang from the bedside table. Malachite disentangled himself from the embrace and rushed to answer; Zoycite didn’t mind. After a brief conversation she didn’t hear, Malachite conjured his uniform and turned to her.

“It’s Jedite,” he said. “Apparently, our girl suffers from Lazarus’ syndrome.”

Zoycite chuckled, finding the term ‘Lazarus’ syndrome’ particularly funny coming from her lover.

* * * * * * * *

Although he had his share of strange things in his life, the sight of a living dead still amazed Jedite. The girl, who was formerly known as Rui Saionji, walked down the deserted street, almost as if she had been alive. The blond man smirked at her and moved closer. I can trash her myself, he thought, reluctantly taking the red cell phone out of his pocket.

“I think you better come and see this,” he said to his superior officer. “Rui Saionji is up and walking.”

“Keep her up,” the deep voice answered through the phone. “We must be over there in about ten minutes.”

“If that’s possible,” he finished and hung up.

He conjured an energy ball, weak enough to control her without causing any serious damage. The blast sent her flying back a few meters. Jedite smirked and teleported close to the girl. Surprisingly, she had landed on her feet and was looking back at him with a sinister glow in her eyes. He blasted her again, this time with a little more strength, yet, the discharge didn’t even move her from the spot; instead, somehow, the glow in her eyes intensified as if with every blast her energy increased.

Unbelievable, Jedite thought, and so damn interesting. He levitated and blasted her a slow charge from above; this resulting in Rui taking off the ground herself. He blasted her, another couple of times, but immediately regretted it after she managed to attack him with her bare hands. Claws had appeared instead of her fingers and she was flying straight to him; Jedite ducked from the first blow but a second one knocked him back to the ground with Rui pinning him down. It could have been quite a painful moment if she hadn’t been blown away by a stream of petals coming from behind him.

“Stop it, Zoycite!” he yelled to the woman behind him. “You’ll only make her stronger!”

“What do you mean?” Malachite asked, offering his hand to Jedite, who declined it less than politely.

“Somehow she feeds on the energy we send through our attacks,” he said, standing up.

Zoycite stopped her attack and moved closer to her lover. Jedite gave her an annoyed look. After all he put you through…he reproached quietly.

The moment was interrupted when the creature charged again this time against the female General, who was quickly pulled away by Malachite.

“I think, due to the current circumstances, it would be rather unwise to stay here and just analyze whatever she has turned into,” he said, turning to face the younger man. “Zoey and I will keep her busy while you call Neflyte.”

Jedite nodded.

“And tell him to bring his car, we are doing a code 13,” Malachite commanded.

He had to admit, even if it killed him, that the two of them had put together quite a team over the years. They moved through the air, catching the creature’s attention, in some bizarre kind of synchrony, like they could read each others minds. His contemplation was quickly interrupted by the second General answering to his call.

“Get your ass down here and bring the car,” Jedite urged. “We’re doing a 13.”

It took less than ten minutes for the auburn haired general to be there. He parked the Ferrari in the middle of the road and pulled out with a crowbar in his hands. The older General moved closer while Jedite and Zoycite were still busy with the creature.

“When was the last time we did a 13?” Neflyte asked Malachite.

“About eight years ago, you and I.” The silver haired man sighed “I don’t think these kids had ever performed one.” He carelessly pointed at Jedite and Zoycite.

Something about the way Malachite had said those words made Jedite shiver; he knew the first commander referred to them as ‘kids’ only when something unspeakable was to be done. His feeling was confirmed by the crowbar on Neflyte’s hands and the distressed look on the second General’s face.

“Well,” he said to the older man, making Jedite a bit more anxious. “The one who said the first time is the foulest hasn’t yet seen a second.”

* * * * * * * *

Zoycite was back at the morgue the next morning; a little uncomfortable for the events of the night before. She shrugged, imagining the face of the young guard when he saw what they had done to the body. He wouldn’t know what happened, Zoey repeated in her head, trying to reassure herself.

“What a pleasant surprise, Mademoiselle Claudel,” said a voice behind her, close enough for her to feel his breath on the side of her face.

Zoycite tried to stay calm and turned to face the man behind her.

“Nice to see you too, Officer…” she said, unconsciously pulling out a subtle French accent.

“Darcy, Ace Darcy,” he introduced himself. “From Scotland Yard, I’m serving an internship down here. And, let me say, I’m glad not to be the only one from the old continent.”

“Pleased to meet you, Officer Darcy.” she smiled politely. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to go and check on the results from the lab tests.”

“Yeah, about that.” He handed her an envelope. “I just got the results of the tire marks found near Ms. Saionji’s body; quite an interesting thing about them.”

“What?” Zoycite narrowed her eyes, both because of the new piece of information and the divided look in Ace’s eyes.

“Well, first of all, those marks were not made by a Japanese car,” he said and turned his gaze to the envelope.

Don’t say Italian, Don’t say Italian…

“The tyres belong to an Italian car, a sports Italian car.” His voice had changed, somehow acquired a deeper tone.

“Could it be A Ferrari?” She braced herself against the nearest desk.

“A Testarossa 512 TR.” Ace sighed, a little too upset for Zoycite’s taste. “Not too many of them here in Japan, yet the one we are looking for is a one of a kind.”

“A one of a kind?” she asked. Damn you, Neflyte! she thought.

“Yes, the tyres had a strange, almost imperceptible pattern: a signature.” He looked into her eyes. “They’re custom made for that particular car; and the only place that manufactures them is in New York.”

“Oh, so, you’ve found the murderer?” she said in a whisper.

“I’ve sent a request to the U.S.A., to see if the company can inform us who they made the tyres for.” He gave her a mysterious look. “It might take at least two weeks before we can reach any actual suspect.”

Zoycite rushed back to the apartment with a copy of the report and her heart beating fast. It wasn’t like she cared about Neflyte; but she knew Malachite trusted him, although she couldn’t exactly think why, and having to submit his second in command to a court-martial for murder would certainly not help to ease the tension that, lately, had been consuming her lover.

* * * * * * * *

*“Mrs Claudel, I suppose”
“Miss, please, I’m not married”
“Who would have thought?” “Come in, lady, don’t let the corpses intimidate you”
“Thank you, see you later”