Signal of the DEAD
Chapter 1: An Accident
Ever since Hizashi had gone, Rei could feel Takashi slowly drifting away from her. The affection he had once held for her, born out of an innocent, childhood promise, gradually fading.
He had fallen for someone else, another woman they'd encountered during their hunts. She was an upperclassman from their school, Busujima Saeko, a strong willed and brilliant fighter who had captained Fujima Acamedy's Kendo team. Naturally, she had been a valuable asset to their team and adapted to their routine comfortably.
Try as Takashi might to deny it, growing flustered and protesting in a broken voice, Rei wasn't naïve. She could tell he had been developing feelings for Saeko. There was an obvious fondness weighing in every glance they exchanged, every gaze that lingered just a little too long for her liking.
She could only watch on, seemingly powerless to change his feelings, to rekindle the ones he had once harboured for her.
There was a heaviness resting in her chest, a hopeless sense that if perhaps none of this had happened, if their lives hadn't been drawn together by such tragic circumstances and Takashi had never met Saeko, Rei still may have had a chance to be with him again.
She shook her head bitterly, pushing the thought from her mind. There was no point in dwelling on the past. It had been foolish of her to believe that her entire life would fall in accordance with a childhood promise; especially considering the world they lived in now, the daily hell they had to face.
Nothing was innocent here, not anymore.
Any semblance of hope they could find was fleeting and temporary. It could be taken away from them, snuffed out completely, in an instant.
All of them were floating in limbo, perpetually bridging the void between life and death.
Rei stood in front of the black ball, her expression resolute, the options on the display clear in front of her.
100 POINT MENU
1. YOU WILL BE FREED ALONG WITH YOUR MEMORIES ERASED
2. YOU WILL BE GIVEN AN EXTREMELY POWERFUL WEAPON
3. YOU WILL BE ABLE TO REVIVE ONE HUMAN FROM THE MEMORY
Her eyes widened as they traced over those last words gracing the screen. Despite the time they'd had to adjust, the concept was still alien to her.
Their memories had been copied and stored the first time they'd been brought here. Every facet of their lives was kept on record like computer data and could be retrieved at any point. Even if one of them were to die during the hunts, they could be brought back to life at a cost.
It seemed surreal, but Rei had seen it with her own eyes.
On the night that Hizashi died, Takash had vowed that they would bring him back... Together.
She wasn't going to lose Takashi.
"Option number 3," Rei spoke clearly, her voice reverberating through the empty room. "Please revive Komuro Takashi."
- Several months earlier -
Takashi stirred against the back of his seat with a groan as the bus hit another bump, dragging him abruptly from his sleep. His eyes strained beneath the glare of the morning sun, flinching as the rays pierced his retinas.
Sitting up, he could make out the sound of his classmates around him, their voices rapt with excitement. Takashi rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the passing traffic outside, wanting nothing more than to drown out the incessant noise.
His class were leaving the school grounds for the day on an excursion and most of the student body could barely contain their glee.
Takashi, frankly, didn't understand what they were making such a big deal out of.
For him, this was just another day.
He had woken to the sound of his alarm as normal, put on his uniform and walked to the station. It was a process he could wander through in his sleep.
He was stagnating, running through the same routine day-in and day-out and wanting nothing more than to break from this cycle. For something, anything, to happen.
Perhaps, at seventeen years old, Takashi was too young to be so jaded, but he couldn't help himself.
He was bored.
It was going to take more than a trip into the city to pump the life in his veins.
Though, it wasn't all bad, Takashi considered, as stretched his arms above his head and leant back against his seat's headrest. He had stayed up late the night before and this trip provided him with a great opportunity to catch up on some much-needed rest.
"Oi, Komuro!"
Takashi felt his shoulders tense at the shrill voice calling his name.
Unfortunately, it seemed the universe had other plans for him.
"What do you want, Takagi?" He growled, squinting, as his tired eyes focused on the blurry figure of his approaching friend.
"What's with you today?!" Takagi Saya demanded, leaning over his seat, hands set at her hips. She moved in close, her gaze scrutinising. "Your face is really pissing me off, more so than usual."
"You're not doing such a bad job yourself." He muttered dryly, his gaze drifting from her eyeline.
"What's that supposed to mean?!" She yelled, indignant. Takashi grimaced as her voice rose, attracting the attention of several students around them.
"Takagi-san, I'm going to have to ask you to return to your seat, please." Called one of the supervising teachers from the front of the bus, likely concerned more for their own well-being than Saya's. If something happened to Don Takagi's daughter on their watch, they would certainly face a terrifying wrath.
Saya's lips set into a frown, but, with a sigh, she relented, shooting one final glare in Takashi's direction.
"This isn't over." She whispered harshly to him, before stomping down the aisle back to her seat.
"Whatever." Takashi shrugged, settling comfortably back into his own seat. With their conversation over, he had hoped he could return to his nap undisturbed.
A hand clasped his shoulder, and Takashi turned with a scowl. The venom dripping in his throat waned as he saw the person standing before him.
"Morita." Takashi spoke, the anger melting from his features.
"You okay man?" His friend asked, tilting his head. "You seem kinda off… You're not still moping over Miyamoto are you?"
Takashi's grimaced, his gaze travelling towards the back of the bus, catching a glimpse of the girl he had planned to one day marry.
It had been a week since he'd stayed late after class, waiting for her Sojutsu practice to end so he could walk her home. She'd been upset with him lately, saying that he hadn't been paying enough attention to her. Takashi thought the surprise might cheer her up.
As twilight began to set upon the school grounds and students filed out of the dojo, Takashi was puzzled to find Rei was not among them. Growing concerned, he had stepped through the doors to check on Rei; wondering if perhaps she had been held back; only to find her wrapped in the arms of the Karate Club captain.
His best friend, Igou Hizashi.
It was then that Rei told him that things were over between them, that she had grown tired of waiting for him to grow up. The sensation that came over Takashi was not one he had ever prepared for. That hollow dread churning in his stomach, weighing upon his entire being.
In the past, whenever Takashi had tried to imagine his future, his vision, admittedly, was never the same.
Not many people had their entire lives figured out at the age of seventeen. Much like anyone, Takashi's dreams, his goals and aspirations, changed as he got older. He had long since accepted that his childhood dream of being a professional baseball player was unlikely, and been well aware of his parents not so subtle hints about upcoming University exams; knowing that they probably wouldn't feel comfortable about his future unless he earnt a degree; something concrete to indicate there was direction in his life.
Though, through it all, there had been at least one constant.
Rei.
Whatever he did, wherever his life went, he had wanted Rei to be a part of it.
But now, she was gone.
Things had not been the same between any of them since.
Feeling the weight of Takashi's lingering gaze, Rei looked up, their eyes locking momentarily. She regarded him with a blank stare, the colour in her cheeks flaring faintly, before she turned back to carry on speaking with Hizashi.
The exchange, through brief, did not go unnoticed by Morita.
"Aw, come on man." He encouraged, clasping his shoulder. "Don't feel down. There's plenty of other fish in the sea. You've seen my list, right?"
"Y- yeah, Morita. You showed me before."
"Oh, really?" Morita paused in the midst of shovelling through the contents of his backpack. He remained silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts; as if suddenly at a loss about what to do. "Well, if you ever need to talk or anything, you know you can always count on me.
"Thanks, I appreciate that. But really, I'm sure I'll be fine. I'm just kinda tired."
"I got it, I got it… I'll leave you be."
"Thanks, Morita."
Appreciating his friend words, Takashi was finally able to settle peacefully into his nap, his unease quelled, even if momentarily.
He realised that, perhaps; in her own, unique way, Takagi had also been showing concern for him, and he may have been too harsh with her. He was tired and upset, directing his anger at the wrong person. He'd have to find Saya later and apologise. Hopefully, she wouldn't spend too much time chewing him out.
After having his trust in two of the people closest to him broken, it was reassuring to know that there were still people who cared.
.
It was the sound of rubber screeching against asphalt and the churning of an engine that woke Takashi the second time, yanking him jarringly bank into consciousness.
Even with the grogginess clinging to his senses, there was an unsettling feeling overtaking Takashi; a sense that something wasn't quite right. The bus jolted suddenly, and Takashi felt his balance ripped away as his entire body was pulled towards the side of the vehicle, his head cracking against the window with a dull throb.
Wincing, his eyes seeped open, vision assaulted by an indistinguishable flurry of images passing too quickly for his mind to process or focus upon. There was an alarming weightlessness overtaking him; punctuating by the panicked cries ringing throughout the bus. Takashi could feel bile beginning to rise in his throat, as he slowly pieced together what was happening.
They were falling.
Somehow, the bus had lost control, careening off the side of a bridge and slowly descending into the bed of water below. Biting down panic, Takashi grasped onto his seat, knuckles white, desperately trying to find a sense of equilibrium.
Despite the care he had taken to brace himself, nothing could have prepared him for what followed.
The glass around them shattered almost instantly, the impact of the crash and weight of the tide itself proving too much. Water gushed into the bus from all directions, carrying the helpless passengers away. Takashi, despite his valiant attempt to remain latched onto his seat, also found his arms weakening and eventually surrendering to the current.
A searing pain cut through his arm; a flash of deep red staining the crystalline blue around him; as he was dragged through the jagged window frame. The cry that broke from his lips was nothing more than a muffled choke. Every time he opened his mouth, trying desperately, out of reflex, to take a breath, water streamed down his throat, suffocating him more.
He couldn't believe it.
He was going to die.
His life would be reduced to nothing more than a story read solemnly over the news, hidden amongst a list of names gleamed over in news articles by strangers; decried momentarily as a tragedy, before slipping away with time, never to be remembered again.
Takashi clenched his fist, pushing against the current submerging him. He couldn't allow that to happen. The determination that suddenly gripped him; to hold onto to a life he had thought so meaningless and been so apathetic towards moments ago; was surprising.
As empty and as dull it might have been, Takashi realised, perhaps too late, that he did not truly want to let go of it. That there were still many things he wanted to live for.
He didn't want to leave his friends, his family, his future, all behind for nothing.
It was a strangely invigorating feeling, fighting for his survival. One that gave him, if only fleetingly, the sense of purpose he had been longing for.
With newfound strength, Takashi pushed towards the surface.
He trashed against the current, determined to continue moving upwards. The vibrant spark of sunlight reflecting on the water's surface called to him, convincing him that he could make it. Yet the harder he fought, his limbs burning with fatigue, the more apparent the distance became. The bus had descended much faster and further than he had first realised. Desperately, his voice broke into a gargled scream as he kicked harder, his strength waning beneath the current.
It was hopeless.
He couldn't do it.
Eyes fluttering closed, his body sagged lifelessly to the bed of the lake beneath.
.
Clarity return to Takashi in a sudden jolt, his eyes tearing open as a strangled gasp escaped his lips.
He hacked and spluttered violently, his throat burning as he coughed up several bitter mouthfuls of salt water; the murky liquid seeping into the floorboards beneath him.
His airway cleared, Takashi's chest heaved rapidly, as he drew in deep, ragged breaths to ease his screaming lungs. With the oxygen slowly returning to his bloodstream, a sense of calm set over Takashi, tempering his initial fear and pain. The adrenaline that had coursed through his body gradually ebbing away.
It was all gone.
Everything that had seemed so vivid, so real. The smothered, panicking voices of his classmates, their screams of terror as water flowed freely through the shattered glass; ripping the air from their bodies as they drifted helplessly away with the current.
Dread churning in his stomach and his arms tiring as he thrashed underneath the surface, Takashi had been certain that he was about to die. His throat was aching and his lungs raw with agony as water filled them; his body almost entirely depleted of the air he was desperately gulping down now.
The last thing he could remember was everything slowly turning dark, as his consciousness faded.
Shakily, Takashi's hand reached up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. He released a breath into his open palm, the air tickling lightly against his skin.
He was alive.
By some miracle, he had been face to face with his demise and lived.
A shudder ripped across Takashi's spine, the drenched fabric of his clothes clinging to his skin. Takashi ripped his jacket off, feeling his teeth begin to chatter.
There were bloodstains on the sleeve from where glass had sliced his arm. Yet, as his hands padded over the contours of his body, checking himself for injuries, despite a thin trickle of blood still leaking from his skin, he couldn't find a single cut. As if the only scars he carried from the horrific accident rested solely within his memory.
"What's going on?"
Takashi's eyes darted around wildly, taking in his surroundings. He was in the middle of an apartment, overlooking the city skyline. There room appeared to empty, except for a large black ball sitting in the middle of it.
As Takashi tried to stand to his feet, a bright beam of light shone from the black ball. He stumbled, scrambling away from the ball in shock as the light was directed towards the space beside him.
Slowly, the light began to shape and materialise something solid before his very eyes. Takashi remained frozen, watching in awe, the shape before him forming into something distinctly human. As the light traced over empty air, solid bone and muscle formed in its place, knitting together like complex tapestry.
The distinct Fujima Academy uniforms, a shock of auburn hair that made the breath catch in his throat; as Takashi's ex-girlfriend appeared before him.
"Rei! Hizashi!"
Takashi crouched beside his two classmates, clasping Rei by the shoulders and helping her upright. Her clothes were also completely soaked through. He spoke, tentatively. "Are you alright?"
Rei winced, holding her head before her eyes opened to meet Takashi's. "Takashi? What's going on? W- Where are we?"
"I'm not sure." He answered honestly, turning briefly to check on Hizashi. "I just kind of… woke up here."
"But- the bus... The bridge, I thought we-"
"I know. That's the last thing I remember too."
"But we're alive?" Rei wondered aloud, her hands breezing over her arms and chest.
"Rei, we need to get out of here." Hizashi spoke, trying to keep his voice measured, calm. "We need to call the police, an ambulance and let them know what happened. There might still be people trapped inside of that bus."
"I can call my dad." Rei answered, fishing her phone out of her back pocket. She glanced down at the screen, her brow furrowing. "There's something wrong my phone. I can't get a signal."
"Shit." Takashi cursed. "The water must have damaged our phones."
"You're probably right." Hizashi sighed, putting away his own phone. "Well, I guess we should head outside then."
With a nod, Takashi moved towards the entranceway, his hand clasping the front door. He tugged at the handle, only to be met with resistance. Frowning, Takashi tried again. Exhaling, he turned back towards his friends.
"It's locked."
"What do you mean, it's locked?"
"I think it's pretty self-explanatory." Takashi drawled. Rei narrowed her eyes at him angrily.
"Here, let me." Hizashi offered, wanting to dispel any tension between the two. He grasped the handle and pulled forcefully but it didn't budge. "You're right. What the hell...?"
"So, what are we supposed to do, stay trapped in here?"
"I don't see any other way out." "We could break a window. But then what? We've got to be ten stories up, and I don't see a fire escape."
"Wait a minute," Takashi interrupted. "Do you guys hear that?"
There was a sound ringing from the room they had first been transported to, a series of chimes rising and falling one after another. Puzzled, the three turned cautiously back from where they came, their steps light and hesitant.
"Is that... music?"
The notes chimed in a stale, insipid cycle, growing louder as they approached.
A new morning has come
A new morning of hope
"It's coming from the ball?" Hizashi said, glancing towards Rei and Hizashi. They covered the distance quickly.
"Hey, there's some writing here!" Rei said, kneeling beside the ball. Hizashi's hand clasped her shoulder worriedly, moving her to stand behind him.
Your lives are over.
What happens with your lives from now on, is up to me.
That's the theory, anyway.
"Our lives are over? What does that mean?" He wondered.
"What the hell is?" Takashi demanded, his early hesitance fading as his voice rose. "What's going on?"
The message did not elaborate. Instead, a lone image was displayed on the black ball, alongside one single instruction.
Your objective: kill this guy.
The face onscreen was mangled almost beyond recognition; their skin a sickly grey and eyes empty, unfocused whites. Their hair, though matted with grit and blood was unmistakably blonde, and styled in a familiar mohawk.
A hollow feeling settled itself in Takashi's stomach, as though the oxygen had once again been depleted from his veins.
"No way." Rei whispered in disbelief. "B- but that's-!"
"Morita."
That night, I had absolutely no idea what had happened.
But I could tell… That I would never, ever be going back…