Yoohoo: Uhh I guess I want to know just how many people still read here in this section. So yeah. Anyway about the story... I have no idea how I came up with it, and right now I don't know how to end it properly. But I already have an idea. : ) This has been with me for YEARS now haha.Oh and this has a twist in it! which you'll know if I remember that I posted this fic here. I'm really busy. D: Oh well. I'm sorry if it's not written well. If you'd like to re-write it that'd be great. : ) 'Cause writing isn't really my heart. MY HEART IS IN FOOOOD. : 3 So let's go. :D AND HEY, as obvious as it is I don't own the characters okay[/disclaimer
April 13, 2006
ACT 1: Start of the Night
There was something wrong about that night.
Her eyes shot open, her mind fully awake. She didn't feel sleepy or lazy, she just didn't. There was something knocking on her head, and she couldn't shut it up. She groans. Her back was wet with sweat and the room temperature was like hell. What time was it? She lifts her head from her pillow and sighs at the sight of 4am, two hours before she usually wakes. She thought it was peculiar, waking up this early-- she wonders what this scenario would get her into this time.
And the knocking continues. And it keeps on knocking until she felt the bed was a little lighter than it should be. And from that, a domino effect. One after the other she realizes lots of strange events. It starts.
She slowly peers at his side of the bed. Only to find it empty, bringing truth to her assumption. This made her worry. Has he not come home yet? And she presses herself to check the house for any signs of him. What could he be doing? Staying up this late...but It's not safe out there anymore either, if ever he went out. And she knows that he's well aware of that. Vanishings and murders happening in their prefecture. It was horrible. And they've been going on for days now, the police haven't found much leads on the case and as a result the body count sky rockets. They knew for one thing that there was only one killer, because all the victims have been killed the same way. A total count of thirteen clears that. She remembers how hard he has worked to find the serial killer. Coming home with a serious look on his face that matched with a hand frustratingly rubbing his temples. "The perfect crime." He stated. And he'd walk straight to his study and lock himself there. They haven't been talking much since the first murder emerged too, he was way too busy solving things, giving a logical approximate answer to a dumbfounding question. She didn't know the details, but from what the news said, "-the killer is a genius."
She placed a hand on the cold knob of the heavy mahogany door. Behind it is his study, and she expects to see him there... Slumped on his desk, messing a stack of paperwork up. Drooling on his notebooks as he comfortably slept over them. Yeah, thats what she wants to see. A faint smile forms on her face as she twists the knob to find it open, she first hesitates but she pushes the door anyway. Only to reveal a dark room. She searched for the light switch on the wall but she found none. Her heart beats faster, and cold sweat snakes down her spine. Anything could just jump out of the dark and grab her, she didn't like staring into dark supposedly 'empty' rooms so she made an effort to try and make out his features from the ample light that the hallway gave. None. She quietly closes the door.
He's not here. Maybe something came up that he had to stay longer at the station. Or something more like a tragedy. No, she doesn't want to think of it. But suddenly before retreating to the bedroom, she hears a steady hiss of running water. The bathroom? No. Somewhere downstairs...
"Souichiro?" He flinches and drops something on the sink, he was washing something. He turned the faucet off and picked up the object--placing it inside his overcoat. He turns to her, "Yeah?" He looked tired. Something wasn't right here. "Are you-" , "I'm fine." He told her curtly. Almost coldly... "Uhh," He stammered trying to lighten the mood. He knows that he frightened her. "Sorry. Um, Good Morning." He smiled, "You wake up early theses days, huh?" That was awkward. "Ye-ah." She answered, a little uneasy as well. "I do." She hated lying but this was very peculiar. "Cool." Silence follows. And they stare at each other. "You going to make breakfast... Or should I do it?" , Is he covering himself up here by pretending that he woke up early? "Maybe, you could do it." she answered, rubbing her arms trying to warm herself from the eerily cold morning temperature. It's 5am already and she hadn't noticed the early morning light that seeped through the windows. She shouldn't have stayed up late yesterday, it looks to have a great effect on her. She sighs.
"What was that thing you dropped earlier?"
His muscles grew tense, "Nothing." He answered, as he turned back facing the sink. She walked closer, and he didn't move an inch. He was nervous, but from what she sees is only the back of the man she has been married to four years ago. She leaned on his back and stared at the ceiling. "I think you should go back to sleep." He said as his body relaxed. She smiled and rubbed circles into her stomach, "When are you going to settle down and at least have a normal conversation with me?" , "Just you and me without the whole vanishings and murders issue?" She laughed and he felt her nod. "Well..." He placed his hands on the rim of the sink. "I just dont know, yet."
ACT 2: Insecurities
He left a few minutes after their short talk. He looked like he hadn't slept for days, and something about that object he dropped into the sink that makes her stomach twirl into a knot for some odd reason. What could it be and why was he hiding it? And other than that they didn't eat breakfast together. Which weighed more important in her mind.
She turns the TV on and she switches it to the news. Pressing the positive button on the volume, she crashes into the couch which embraced her small form. Nothing is better than a lazy Sunday morning.
Unless of course if it was a Sunday morning that she could share with him. But it seemed a little impossible now that he's buried under burdensome issues. Maybe he could just ditch them, and dump all his responsibilities on his subordinates and come home—spending time with her more. She giggles to herself. Ah but fantasies can only go so far, she wonders if by some crazy miracle he does what she had thought, Oh! That would have made her day! "Yet another bod y found dead on-" Her mood suddenly meets a brick wall. BANG! She crumbles into small little pieces. Great, just what she needed.
But this case was different from the other cases she'd catch on TV. Unsurprisingly it was the same killer again, signature throat slit. Loss of blood, cover the head with a black plastic bag routine. Though it seemed more brutal and bloodier. She winces away when the tv posted shots of the dead body. And the forensics team figured out that the body was killed about 4am.
Oh look he's on TV explaining.
He looks so handsome, but hey when did he have the time to shower? His hair looked wet and from the looks of it his uniform looked like it was worn in a second. He looked a bit messy. She sits up on the couch and places her knees infront of her, embracing them. She looked at the lower right portion of the screen, it was a live report, and as she continues watching she suddenly realizes how familiar the background was...
"-And in the living room we've seen signs of struggle, we checked every entry points of the house and we found no signs of breaking in at all."
"So what are you saying here?"
"Well, since all the windows and doors are locked from the inside. The victim probably knows the killer and let him in willingly, of course oblivious to what he was going to do."
Ah that was new. That made her a bit paranoid, it could be anybody in the neighborhood. She leaves the couch, the tv left running. "So if I were anybody in this prefecture-" She stands by the windows, placing a finger on the blinds making an opening for her to see. "I'd be a more attentive and alert.-" She stares at the people gathered, "Because you'll never know you might be next." The home right in front of theirs... the killer had struck.
I personally liked how I ended act 2. : D I didn't know I could do that. O-o So... Whats with the object he hid in his overcoat? Why was he nervous? And why did I write that for you to read? Err... I don't know either. But if I'd give you an answer... "It's part of a really big master PLAAAN!!"