A/N: This is a new story from me. Enjoy =)

Disclaimer: I do not own SkipBeat!

Special thanks to Elfnftzu (aka Nikholas F. Toledo Zu) for beta-reading, making this presentable. And shizu2 for advices.

Prologue

Takarada Lory, the Commander of Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department (TMPD) Homicide, contemplated it as he stood examining Mogami Tatsuya, forty-year-old. Dead.

His dark hair spread out on the blood-tainted silk pillow, his cheeks were bloodlessly white, with a tinge of blue that death often left them. His eyes were open, still and wide with shock that his life was taken in a flash.

He'd worn a pair of white pajamas. A color that reflected purity, yet it contrasted starkly with the blood on it. One of his arms was outstretched.

To fight back? Lory mused. No. Not fast enough. Not quite.

His throat had been viciously slashed.

The blood spatter and the scene itself had told him that. His killer had stepped into the room while he was sleeping, walked to the bed, yanked his head up, and raked a sharp knife across his throat—left to right—quick and neat. It severed the jugular in an instant, damaging the main artery, cutting off the main blood supply to the brain.

He looked closely at the body. There were no signs of struggle, no defensive wounds. The victim did not have time to react.

The death was quick and the pain was short. But, hell, it doesn't make murder any better.

He leaned back just as Sawara Takenori walked into the room.

"Commander!" The man's eyes widen in surprise.

"Why'd you—" He stopped immediately when Lory lifted his hand.

"I was informed, Lieutenant. The media got a whiff of this and they jumped on it like a pack of bloodhounds. It was all over the news."

Takenori could see pity in his eyes when he turned his head towards the body,

"I knew this man, Takenori. I'd met him on several formal occasions and we're acquainted." He squared his shoulders. "I felt…compelled, to come. He's a good man, a good husband, and a good father."

"A good judge, too."

"Yes." He paused. "It is hard to find someone like him nowadays. He had been a reputable judge, solid. It's a shame to lose him."

Then, his dark eyes, turned cold.

"I want to know who could do such thing to this man."

"It's not a burglary went wrong, sir." He motioned to the expensive gold watch and the wallet on the nightstand. "And there were six hundred of dollars in the drawer, wife's diamond earrings and pearls. None of them were taken."

Lory nodded. "He's a judge, and a fair one. I wouldn't be surprised if it's linked to one of the cases that were put on trial in his courtroom."

He looked around the room. "What have you got so far?"

"I did a recon on the cases he closed and had pending for the last five years. I would need to do a cross-check to see if any name comes up." Takenori said.

"Make it ten. Revenge takes time. And a multiple murders like this? It takes strong hatred, planning and skills."

"Yes, sir."

But the murder did not end there.

They walked out from the room and to the next one...

The room had been painted in girlish pink, the bed was filled with fluffy stuffed toys. The man pondered over the lifeless body of Mogami Saena, thirty-eight-years-old, dead. She had been pretty once. Her hair, which was as dark as her husband, was spread out prettily on her pillow. Her eyes were closed, but he imagined them to be filled with shock and fear right before she closed them.

He pursed his lips together when he looked at another body, which was relatively small, curled up beside her mother. Dead, too.

He stood for the dead, and he worked with them long enough for them not to haunt him. Still, the sight of an innocent child lying dead was hard. It was always difficult when it involved a minor. When he looked down, he saw the petite face framed by soft black hair, hands and a body that were so small, so fragile. Lifeless.

Their hearts had been stabbed.

The Commander bent down on his side to study it. From the small amount of blood it resulted, he could say it was certainly quick, and tidy. Ninety-degree, perpendicular to the heart, a straight shot. The victim would have had no time to comprehend what was happening. Same as the first, there were no signs of struggle or any defensive wounds.

One stab, and they're gone.

"The security of the house is good. In fact, the system is currently the best on the market. There was no forced entry, no alarms tripped. I figure it was either the Mogamis knew them, or they had a decoder for that."

Lory looked at him intently. "They, you said."

"Yes, sir." The man nodded. "It was the work of professionals. The timing was slick and there wasn't any unnecessary violence. It was cold. I don't feel anything personal in this act. And I figure there's more than one. Perhaps a team, specially trained. This is not the work of an amateur."

"But killing a family—at the same time—is personal."

"If it's a hired job. Then my bet would be on the person who hired them."

"There's my guess, too."

When he turned around, he saw Takenori staring at the bodies. His expression was grim.

"It's always hard when it's children." Lory said.

Takenori sighed. "Yes. She's still a kid."

"What was she? Five-year-old?"

"No, sir. She's six. Mogami Akira." He paused.

Two uniforms had stood by to secure and record the scene. Crime Scene was diligently carrying out their hideous duty to search for anything left by the murderers.

"Any luck?" He asked one of the forensic sweepers, Matsushima.

"Commander." The man stood. "We didn't find a single hair or cell here, whoever did this was pretty thorough."

Lory nodded in agreement, "Professionals."

Their heads snapped up when they heard someone calling from the corridor. There was urgency in his voice.

"Commander! Lieutenant!" A man in uniform reached the room and winced when he saw the bodies on the bed.

"What is it?" Lory asked.

"There's a girl in the garden."

"What?" He turned to Takenori, his gaze pinned on him. "Who called it in?"

"Sir, I have not—"

"Move!"

Japan is located in eastern Asia, at the North Pacific Ocean. As much a beautiful island as itself, it was currently under the attack of the merciless September monsoon. Strong rain and winds had caused the trees to sway violently on the sidewalk, casting ghostly shadows under the pulsing street light.

However, the bad weather did not have the slightest effect on the girl who had sneaked out from the school's hostel.

Mogami Kyoko smiled when she settled herself into the backseat of the cab. She was going to see her father soon. Her thirteenth-birthday would be next week and she wondered where he'd planned to take her on that day. She would give him a surprise!

She grinned as she thought of the expressions that would appear on her father's face. She can't wait to see him!

After she came out of the cab, she went to ring the doorbell. Her hand stopped in the mid-air as she saw the door in front of her left ajar.

She pushed the wooden door lightly and found the house to be in complete darkness. Are they asleep? She thought. But it was weird that corridor light was off too. Her stepmother had always kept the low light on.

She walked into the front foyer after her golden eyes adjusted to the dark. She was dead quiet when she walked up the staircases, she wouldn't want to wake them up if they were sleeping.

She was disappointed, though. She pouted.

The master bedroom was the first one on the right. Again, the door was carelessly left opened.

In the shadows, she snuck into the room. She was deciding whether to wake her father up when she heard a noise from the bed. She quickly dived into the extensive wardrobe behind the door.

She poked her head out and saw movement.

Her father was sleeping soundly on the bed, under the blanket. In the darkness, was a man standing beside the bed.

She angled her head further, and saw the man reached out.

He slit her father's throat.

She closed a hand over her mouth, her breath hitched. She reared back into the wardrobe, pressing her back hard to the wall. Her body shook with fear. Her heart was racing in her chest.

Tears spilled out from her eyes, down her palm, falling soundlessly onto the floor.

Then the man walked out, right passed her, and left.

She waited for a moment before she slumped down onto the floor. Her body continued to tremble. In fear, in shock, or in sadness, she doesn't know. She just keep rocking herself on the ground, crying quietly.

When she heard no other sound, she stood up. By sheer will alone, she dragged herself across the bedroom to the bed. Her legs were wobbling but she didn't care, didn't stop.

She let out a sob when she saw her father. She reached her hand forward, to touch him, to wake him up, to make him to tell her that it was only a joke. And only to find her hands covered in something warm.

Blood.

Through the moonlight that shone through the window, she stared at the bed.

He was covered in blood.

Lory pushed aside the thick bush, and found himself looking at the trembling form of a child.

"Mogami Kyoko." He spoke calmly. His cop eyes searched the girl's body and relieved to know that none of the blood belonged to her.

"Kyoko." He crouched and carefully tapped the girl's shoulder.

She winced at the contact and cringed back further. "No…No…No…No…" She continued to mumble.

Lory took out his badge and showed it to her. "I'm Takarada Lory. I'm a police. You are safe now, Kyoko."

He could see her stiffen, and glanced up cautiously. Her golden brown eyes were glazed, glistening with tears.

"It's okay. I can help you." He reached out a hand.

She shook her head. "No…No…No… They're here. They're here. They're here…"

They? Lory's eyebrow lifted. So there's really more than one.

"They're gone, Kyoko. You are safe." He reached out a hand again.

"They killed. They—They—They killed…They killed…I saw…" Her voice hitched. "Otou-san."

Lory leaned forward, and pulled her into his arms.

"They killed mother too…And—And Akira…Akira-chan…They…Otou-san…"

He held her tightly. "I'm sorry, Kyoko. I'm sorry. They're gone now. You don't need to be afraid."

Behind her, he signaled for Takenori to bring in the medics.

"They—I saw…I saw…Blood, everywhere. Blood." She looked down at her smeared hands.

"Blood."

"Kyo— "

"They're dead." She said. Her voice was scarcely audible.

Lory just looked at her. He didn't know what to say.

"They...They're dead, aren't they. I was too slow. I can't help. I should—"

He stopped her. "No, Kyoko. You did right. You called us. Your father would want you to do that."

And at the mention of her father, she broke. She burst into tears and cried soundly in his arms. Lory's heart ached for the girl. So young, he thought. So young to witness such cruelty, so young to walk through her family's blood, so young to lose everything.

"I promise you, Kyoko."

He looked into her eyes.

"I will find them. For you. For justice."