Even in the split-second he had to make a decision, Haruka knew it was a bad idea.  But a panic and fear for his master he would not admit even to himself sent him bounding after Kantarou, wings out in a vain attempt to break the fall.  Haruka caught Kantarou around the shoulders and had just enough time and space to bring one wing up, causing them to veer sideways so that Haruka was now beneath Kantarou.  The other wing was restricted by the proximity of the wall to his left and bent painfully as they turned, Kantarou held tightly in his arms.  He could take a lot more damage than a human could, he reasoned.  Then they hit the corridor wall at the bottom of the stairs and landed in a pile of mangled wings and limbs on the floor.  Kantarou coughed and squirmed in Haruka’s hold.

  “That was… unexpected…”  He giggled breathlessly, looking up at Haruka but making no move to get up.  Haruka loosened his embrace but did not let go.  With Kantarou so close to him now he could feel him shivering, even though the bare skin of his neck felt warm beneath his palm.  Haruka sat up a little to get rid of his wings, painfully bent as they were, then slumped back against the wall when they were gone, tired and aching from the fall. 

  Seconds later there was a cry from the end of the hallway to their right and a male figure ran at them from the shadows, menacingly brandishing a broom.

  “Burglars! Burglars!” he cried.  Haruka growled in annoyance.  He had not just survived flying down a stairwell to be beaten to death with a broom. 

  “Do we look like burglars to you!?” Haruka shouted, pushing himself back into a sitting position.　　The man slowed his charge and lowered his broom, eyeing the scene before him suspiciously.  Out of the shadows Haruka could see the approaching stinger properly.  He was tall and broad, his eyes dark and calculating.  A strange look Haruka could not discern spread over the man’s face.

  “No,” he said, folding his arms authoritatively, “Now that you mention it, you certainly don’t look like burglars.  So I must ask; what exactly are two men doing lying on top of each other on the floor of someone else’s house?” 

  “Ah...” Kantarou laughed in the friendliest voice he could muster, “We fell down the stairs...”  He pushed himself off of Haruka’s chest and sat back on his knees, coughing slightly.  “We were investigating...” he began, but was interrupted by the arrival of the maid from the other end of the corridor.

  “Ichinomiya-sensei!  Are you alright?  I heard a lot of noise... Did you fall down the stairs?  It’s very easy to do.  They’re so steep and dark...” she babbled incessantly as she rushed over to help Kantarou up off the floor. 

  “Thank you, thank you, “ Kantarou said, brushing himself down briskly. 

  “You know these people, Saori?” the man asked the maid.  

  “Yes.  Suzuki-sama sent them to investigate the master’s death,” she told him.  He raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.

  “Did she now?”  He paused and looked down at Haruka who was still trying to get up off the floor.  The stranger reached out a hand.

  “Here,” he offered. “I’m Sudou Takeshi.  Sorry about the misunderstanding.”  Haruka took his hand grudgingly at Kantarou’s glare.  “But it’s not everyday you find strange men at the bottom of your staircase lying in each other’s arms like that.”  Sudou Takeshi smirked and looked meaningfully at Kantarou.

  “Like WHAT exactly?” Haruka demanded, already feeling a deep dislike for this new character.     

  “Nothing.  Nothing,” he replied innocently and turned away.  “Anyway, come into the kitchen and have a drink.  Your friend looks like he needs it.”  Haruka looked back at Kantarou.  The maid was still holding him up, asking him what was wrong.  Kantarou was holding his leg.

  “I don’t think this is my day,” he laughed meekly.  “I must have hit my leg when we fell.”  Haruka rolled his eyes.  It was truly shocking, he thought, how fragile humans were.  He wondered how they managed to survive at all.

  “Here.”  The tengu offered his arm to Kantarou who took it gladly, leaning heavily on his friend as he limped the short distance to the kitchen. 

  “Sit on the edge there, Ichinomiya-san was it?”  He indicated towards the end of the wooden flooring.  Kantarou gingerly sat himself down and Haruka did the same beside him.  The maid stepped off the wooden floor into her shoes and busied herself cleaning a cloth in the sink. 

  “Have some of this.”  Sudou handed Kantarou a cup of steaming sake.  “I was warming it for myself, but it looks like you need it more.”  Kantarou thanked him and took a sip.  It was very good sake; warmed perfectly and not too sweet.  He closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the sensation of the warm liquid flowing into his stomach.  He breathed deeply, the warmth and alcohol calming his shivers and clearing his head.

  “Ichinomiya-sensei?”  The maid stood nervously in front of Kantarou.  “Is it all right to look at your leg?”  Kantarou laughed, put the cup down and lifted the left leg of his hakama.  Beneath the material, Kantarou’s knee was already showing signs of swelling.  His lower leg looked red and bruised. 

  “That must have been some fall,” Sudou commented, looking curiously at Kantarou’s exposed leg. 

  “They’re steep stairs, Sudou-san,” Kantarou replied, wincing as the maid placed a cool, damp cloth on his knee.  Sudou sat himself down next to Kantarou and poured him more sake. 

  “They are, they are,” he agreed.  He paused for a moment before speaking again.  “So Suzuki-san hired you to investigate, did she?  You don’t exactly look like that’s the kind of work you do.”  He lowered his voice a little.  “Did she tell you about her dreams?  I thought she might be a little crazy, what with her husband’s death...”  He laughed.  “Demons!  She thinks it’s demons!  How absurd!”  Kantarou sighed and shook his head.

  “I’m a folklorist, Sudou-san, and I believe there must be something to Suzuki-san’s dreams,” he said firmly.  There was a look of surprise on Sudou’s face. 

  “In any case, you were her late husband’s business partner, right?” Kantarou asked, taking another sip of warm sake.  The pain in his knee still burned even with the cold cloth on it. 

  “I was,” Sudou replied stiffly, as though reluctant to talk about it.

  “Are you staying in this house?”  It was Haruka speaking now.  Sudou looked confused.

  “Are you investigating the death or the house?” he asked.  Haruka shrugged.

  “Well are you?” he asked again.

  “I stay here sometimes yes.  There is a lot of work to be done so I often don’t finish until late,” Sudou answered.

  “How long have you known the Suzuki family?”  Kantarou asked then.

  “Many years.  We built the business together right out of University, the master and I.”  Kantarou looked thoughtfully at Sudou Takeshi.

  “Why does everyone refer to him as ‘the master’?” he asked.  Sudou laughed loudly at that.

  “Ah!  He was such a forceful fellow.  So loud and abrupt.  Suzuki-san’s brother always said he must be the reincarnation of an ancient warlord!”

  “Suzuki-san’s brother...” Kantarou repeated.  “Did they get along, he and the master?”  Sudou-san eyed Kantarou suspiciously.

  “No.  They were rivals in business.  But surely you can’t think he had anything to do with the death?  Anyway, I thought it was just an accident.”

  “No, I don’t think he had anything to do with it.  And I don’t know if it was an accident or not yet.”  Kantarou drained the last of the sake, then shakily stood up with the help of Haruka.  “In any case, we should be going.”  He made to turn away from Sudou but stopped and tuned back.  “I have one more question.  Why are the doors of the front room upstairs painted black?”  There was a cold silence.  Haruka noticed the maid looking at Sudou fearfully, as though afraid of what he would say.  Sudou’s expression remained impassive but Kantarou could feel the other man’s body tense.

  “What strange questions you ask,” he answered with strained humour.  “The room has always been like that.”  Kantarou smiled.

  “I was just curious,” he said, then, bidding his farewells to their new acquaintance, limped back towards the entrance hall.