P. Stormcrow

The man that opened the door looked older by about ten years from the picture Olivia had shown them. Except the photo was a recent one, taken for an article only three months ago.

The wariness in his expression was more or less expected, but Finn was going to have to break that down if they were to sort this out. Beside her, Jackson’s tense body already gave her the clue she needed. Magic was in the air, making Mr. Writer the more likely suspect.

“Fujigami-san?” Finn bowed on reflex. Her training in the dojo had instilled in her some minimal lessons in Japanese etiquette, and her instinct to use it had kicked in. After all, from the information that Olivia has given them, he had only immigrated from Japan a year ago.

“Yes?”

“We’re with the FBI. May we come in to ask a few questions related to No End Land?”

Behind him, a woman spoke in rapid Japanese. Although Finn didn’t understand a word of what was being said, she picked up the obvious distress in her tone. 

“Excuse me for a moment.” Fujigami-san held up a finger, then turned and closed the door before Finn could utter a protest.

She exchanged a glance with Jackson who frowned but shrugged. He had been letting her run the lead more and more, building her confidence. Or maybe it was because he was in the doghouse from the bait stunt he pulled yesterday.

Sounds of escalating argument crescendoed on the other side. 

“That doesn’t sound good.” Finn debated on whether to open the door, but Jackson grasped her shoulder and shook his head.

“Give him a minute. If I remember right, this isn’t a room with a balcony, so the only exit is through here.”

Finn dropped her hand and finally noticed Jackson bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Your fanboy is showing.” She couldn’t help the smirk lurking in the corners of her lips.

“Can you blame me? This is the original creator of the manga. Which, by the way, is still better than the movie.” Jackson held up a finger.

“Yeah, yeah.” Finn waves him off. First a Harry Potter mug. Then all those books. And now this. She wondered just how deep of a rabbit hole her closet-nerd of a partner went down. Perhaps this was how he spent all his spare hours when he wasn’t working.

The door opened at last and Fujigami-san poked his head out again. “My apologies, please enter.” He stepped back to allow them through. But unlike with Ashton, there was someone else this time amidst the luggages arrayed across the space.

The Caucasian woman perched on the edge of the bed with reddened eyes said nothing, but watched them from under her lashes with an intensity that Finn found almost uncomfortable. Sporting a fancy creamed colored dress, it was apparent that they had been getting ready to go out, perhaps for breakfast, or was it brunch already?

“This is my wife, April-san. Please have a seat and let us know how we can help.” He gestured to the two empty chairs by a small coffee table.

“It’s a pleasure, sir. I’m a big fan of your work,” Jackson blurted out as they shuffled across the room to sit. No need to start off with intimidation.

Fujigami-san’s cheeks pinkened a little under the darker skin. “Thank you. It is always nice to meet someone who likes my stories.”

Finn cleared her throat and tried not to roll her eyes at her partner. As tempted as she was to jump straight to the crucial question, given that Jackson had already sniffed out magic, she knew it needed a more delicate touch. Still, they were FBI. No FBI agent visited to ask about the weather. So, like with Ashton, she waited until he settled next to his wife then started with the obvious.

“We are currently investigating three deaths that seemed to have—”

The older man held up one hand. “Please let me stop you right there. Many have accused my movie of inspiring fighting or thoughts of suicide, but I assure you that there is no correlation. It is no different from the unproven arguments out there about video games leading to increased violent tendencies.” He stood ramrod straight in front of them and folded his arms.

Defensive. It did, however, sound like a tired argument he had had many times. The next move would be a gamble, but Jackson had sensed magic already. Here goes. “Fujigami-san, are you aware that witnesses in all three cases have identified the perpetrators to be the main characters in the live-action movie based on your comics?”

Finn had braced herself for further denial, even ridicule, but Fujigami-san paled instead and turned to his wife with a sharp look. “Please tell me you didn’t—”

In return, April-san burst into tears.

Shit. She glanced at Jackson. This was not going the way she expected at all.

“What have you done?” Fujigami-san whispered in growing horror.

“I did it for you!” April-san wailed. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been, seeing how you struggle all these years to get the recognition you deserve? Watching you sink deeper and deeper into depression, holes up in your little office drawing and writing until you wouldn’t come out for days while I worked myself to death trying to pay off our debts and keep food on the table?”

“So you made a pact with a demon,” Jackson’s quiet voice cut through the tirade more effectively than Finn expected.

April-san snapped her head up, and she widened her eyes as if it was the first time she was seeing Jackson there for real. With a shuddering sigh, she nodded, slumping her shoulders. “It didn’t seem like a very steep price to pay.”

“How can you think that? There are dead people.” Fujigami-san took a step back, creating more distance between his wife and himself. 

“What exactly did this creature ask for and what were the consequences of not paying?” Jackson interjected before the couple escalated to an argument.

April-san sniffed and rubbed her eyes, smearing whatever mascara she was still sporting. “It said it wanted a tribute of a life once a month but would only collect once my husband says out loud that he’s made it. I gave it some excuses when it came demanding the payments begin, but it threatened that if I don’t allow it to take lives soon, it’ll consider it to be a breach of contract and start exacting the price from our family instead.”

Fujigami-san groaned and covered his face.

“How did you summon the creature in the first place?” Jackson followed up, taking over the line of questioning now that they were in the territory of magic.

“I found it in a book. Here, it’s somewhere around here.” April-san rose to rummage in one of the luggage totes.

Finn would have been suspicious of how forthcoming they were both being if not for Fujigami-san’s reaction as he staggered to the bed and slumped into the seat April-san had just vacated.

“Fake. All fake. Bought for by blood and death,” he moaned, holding his head.

Finn felt for the poor man and while Jackson was conferring with his wife, she moved to sit next to the writer. “Hey, you don’t know that,” she tried to soothe. 

“And now I will never know for real.” He dropped his hands to stare off into the distance. “The worst is I can’t even blame her. Everything she said was true. I was obsessed with my work.”

She had no words of comfort to offer the man. This was 

so not her forte. 

Jackson returned with April-san in tow, a small old book in his hand. “We should head back. All of us.” He didn’t offer Fujigami-san nor his wife any explanations, not that he needed any at this rate, thanks to April’s confession. “We’ll give you a few minutes to pack your things.” That said, he met Finn’s gaze and jerked his chin towards the hallway.

She followed him outside and waited until he shut the door with a soft click.

“What are we going to do? Call a priest?” Finn kept her volume down and an ear out for any yelling that may resume on the other side.

“No, but there is a protocol for demon pacts once we’ve identified the source. We’ll have to get them under a good ward first.”

Hence returning to headquarters.

“There’s… something else, though.”

The sudden hesitation in Jackson’s voice, so contrary to his usual confidence, caused alarm bells to go off in her head, but Finn tried to her best to keep her expression serene. “What’s up?”

“Last night. You mentioned rifts.”

Where is he going with this? “Yeah. Why?”

“What did they look like?”

No explanation. Damn. Okay, fine. She’ll play ball for now. “Swirling red masses of… something,” she replied. “But something weird happened when we shot at them. It was as if the bullets exploded with green energy of its own and it ate up the red until they were both gone, like they canceled out each other.”

“Hm.”

Really? That was it? She blinked and stared at him hard, but when he still said nothing, she gave in at last. “Okay, cough it up. What’s running through that head of yours?”

“I’ve come across a port—”

The door swung open and both Fujigami-san and April-san stepped out, luggage in tow. Finn cursed their timing as Jackson offered to help them with their suitcases.

It was time to close this case. Then she was going to lure him out with coffee and put him through a little interrogation session of his own.