Started: May 2017

Finished: June 2017

Ami answered her phone. "Hello?" she said.

"Ami."

"Mr. Shingai?" she beamed. "Where have you been? I-"

"I called to tell you I can't allow you to help me anymore," he stated neutrally. She was shocked. The line was quiet. She was afraid he had hung up.

Why? she asked.

"I thank you for your kindness. I won't contact you again."

"Wait, I found an old book of yours. It might have been yours. Let me give it to you." He paused, then gave her a name of a place to leave it.

"Do you know where that is?" She hesitated, wanting to keep him on the phone longer.

"I can find it." She finally said. Moments passed as he searched for words to say. The phone went dead, leaving her sad and worried about him.

She looked up and found the address to the place he suggested on her tablet. She traveled there, the next morning, glancing around frequently in hopes of catching a glimpse of him. She found the place to be a plaza of abandoned buildings, with very little surveillance if any. She found a place to sit and read a book she brought. Hours passed, and it was lunchtime. She played games on her phone and nibbled on food in her bag. As it reached dusk, it didn't even occur to her that place was creepy and that she probably shouldn't be there.

Shingai made his way to the destination with his head down but always on the look out. "Ami," he said in surprise and a ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"Mr. Shingai," She stood quickly and bowed slightly. "I had to see you, especially if it was my last chance."

"How long have you been here?"

"Awhile," she looked down embarrassed.

"You didn't even know if I'd come here today, or if I was even in Tokyo. What about your commitments?"

"I'm a talented young reporter. I can get jobs. You were my job." She smiled.

"Not anymore."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry but that's all I can say." He started to walk away regretting he couldn't tell her anything. He didn't want to allude to what he was mixed up in. He didn't want her to go to the police and attract attention to herself.

"At least tell me why." She followed

"It's none of your concern. Please let it go." She stood in front of him.

"I won't let you leave with out an explanation." He started to crack.

"I have this sense of impending doom. I'm not totally sure if it's just the not knowing or if it's something very real." He pushed past her.

"Did something happen?"

"No," he lied.

"Then I'm sure the feeling is from the not knowing." She ran in front of him again, and he averted his eyes.

"Thank you for your commitment. You've perhaps shown me the most kindness I've ever been shown."

"Are you remembering more?"

"No."

"Then don't say that. I'm sure that's not true."

"No one came forward. It seems like I have no friends or family."

"Your family, your sister, at the hospital that day."

"She wasn't my family." She stopped, disappointed and confused at his words. She ran and stood in front of him. "No matter who you were, no matter what you did, I'm sure you had some one who has cared for you."

"I can't help but be troubled by how you said that in the past tense."

"I mean you're lost now in a sense, maybe they are lost too." He sighed heavily. "I'm sure they are," she said as she put her head on his shoulder. He looked to her surprised. He wrapped his arms around her in kind, with out thinking twice, not wanting to waste the moment, desperate.

"You can do one thing for me when I'm gone, don't talk about me to anyone and I mean no one, pretend you hadn't met me. Do you hear me?" He pulled away and made her look at him. He studied her face and she nodded sadly. "Good bye," he said before he stepped away from her and continued walking at a hurried pace. She chased after him and grabbed his arm, he pulled away a bit too quickly. "Stop following me. I said good bye." She tried again. He raised his hand and she flinched. Good, he thought.

"You still didn't tell me why. You can tell me. I'm not going to tell anyone. I need some kind of closure."

"I said I feel doomed" he said frustrated, "and I don't want to drag you into it. I-" he hesitated. "I am a monster being chased by other monsters," he confessed. She ran after him and took him by the neck of his hooded sweatshirt.

"A monster? How do you figure that? Don't be ridiculous." He snapped and drug her into a doorway of an abandon building.

"How do you know? Hm? You don't know anything about me. Stop saying you're so sure because there's no way you could know any of it. Is there? Is there?" She swallowed hard. "No! Leave me do deal with this alone. Why is this so hard for you to let go?"

"When I start something, I finish it. You're not exactly gone either." His mouth was wide at her audacity.

"I wanted our parting to be amicable," he said forcefully.

"Amicable? Are you sure you do amicable?" she said with a slight smile, ever wanting keep him talking. His eyes widened, a slight crazed look behind them. Her impudence fascinated him and repelled him at the same time.

"You don't listen very well," he said dangerously.

"I'm not scared of you or your imagined fears." His jaw dropped at her unintentional double edged insult. Immediately, a skewer was pointed at her face.

"Don't you dare minimize my fears you naïve insufferably stubborn girl. You have only met me once."

Her eyes fell upon his weapon, a long thin type of skewer.

"What? what is that?" She looked at it, finally starting to look nervous, but curious.

"What is what? This?" He was fascinated by her curiosity, but also utterly insulted that he couldn't seem to stop her inquisition.

"I- I looked through your book, what I thought might be your book. A book called The Shrike. When I was at your old place, I saw what looked like an art piece, a very disturbing sculpture. A trail of dead bugs leading up to a straw human like figure. There where dozens of skewers, huge pins, sticking out of it, all with insects impaled in them." Looking dazed, he stepped back. He picked up the book that had fallen to the ground and skimmed through it. He gasped, then smiled a little.

He put his hand to his head and breathed in sharply again. The book fell to the ground and so did he. He shook and held his head in his hands. She knelt beside him, not sure if she should run and call for help. Are you ok, are you ok? Can you hear me? She bent to touch him but went to pull back to give him some room. I can go get help. She gasped as he suddenly grabbed her arm, his body still bent, face still buried in his hand. She looked on concerned, her hands gently holding his arm, as if willing him to pull through what ever was going on inside of him. She watched him catch his breath, not bothering to tell him he was gripping her arm much too to tight.

His wide eyes snapped to her face, startling her a bit. "You finished it," he said with a deranged smile and a soft laugh. He grew serious again, still shaking and breath ragged. "Thank you," said and used his other hand to pull her closer. He stared into her eyes, memorizing her face. "Thank you so much," he repeated. He rose to his feet, taking her with him, vibrating with energy almost tangible. "We will meet again," he said, scanning his surroundings with a predatory scowl. "When it's safe, and it will be…soon."

He gave her a small smile and a bow and took off so swiftly it made her jump. He lunged onto a bin, climbed a railing, and scaled a wall to reach the roof. She looked on, shaking inside at the seeming cloud of energy cracking in his wake. Oh my, she thought to herself. His promise was what she wanted to hear from the start. Now that he changed, quite strangely, he was fearless and she was sure he'd keep that promise.