I wasn't really sure on what to call this. Voicemail, Voicetape, Videotape Goodbye, etc... in the end, I just stuck with Videotape .

I wanted to write a scenario with Akemi saying goodbye to Shiho/Ai. I mean, it's sad and all, but I wanted Shiho to have a memento of her sister. She already have a voicetape of her mom. So, I made it a video. It's hardly one. It felt like a letter, but I wanted Akemi to have her feelings known.

Videotape

Like all children, I saw my parents as heroes. I've always had this unfaltering belief in them. They were the good guys and they would protect me. There were bad guys but that wasn't anything to be worried of. Because they will always be there to stop them. The bad guys were monsters and they will always be stopped. Because the good guys will always win and that's them - my parents... our parents and the organization, I thought.

It wasn't until I was older that I realized the truth. My parents weren't the good guys. I wasn't part of the good guys. I, who had grown up with the organization like my parents. I, who had strived to be of use to the organization. I, who without my own knowing, turned into the monster I always feared.

I wanted to believe my parents weren't the bad guys. I love them, see. I wanted to see the best in them. I wanted to see the best in everyone, actually. I guess, I never really knew what goodness was. I never knew what 'best' was. I was just a stupid, wanna-be and trying hard person. I lived in the darkness for all my life. There was no chance of me knowing what light is. I wouldn't miss it – after all, how can you miss something that was never there before.

But I wanted you to see it, Shiho. I wanted you to know what it was like. I wanted you to know what it felt like – to stand in the light and bask in its presence.

We are not the good guys, Shiho. It wasn't Dai-chan that showed me this. I always knew of it, but I turned a blind eye because I wanted to believe that we – that I am not a monster… that you aren't… that I failed to protect you. You're my one and only sister, Shiho. And I love you more than I do myself. I want you to know that.

We are not the good guys, that's true... but we can try to be.

To leave the organization means to be killed. We are all prisoners. We either become the captors or remain the captive. And if we ever step out of the prison… we are to be killed.

But, Shiho, the prison is so cold and dark. It's all we've ever known. But Dai-chan showed me that I wasn't a monster… that I could stand in the light and not be burned. Even in those few moments, even though I knew I didn't deserve it. Even though I knew that Dai-chan was just using me, I let myself be used because I love him – for who he is, for what he made me feel. So… so don't blame him, Shiho, for my decision.

I want to leave the prison you and I have been born into. And I'm not going without you. I will make sure you will be safe, protected and free – even if it means I will forever be shackled with the organization… even if it means I have to die. I want you to be freed from the shackles you were born in. I want you to see more than the artificial light I could give you. But… most importantly, I want you to know that you are loved and you are not a monster. They tried to turn you into one, but compared to the others… you aren't. And if you insist and say that you are, then I want you to know that I am too.

My hands are not clean, Shiho. I have to do horrible deeds so that you and I could live. I am expendable. My knowledge of the organization makes me a target. I am not important. In fact, I'm pretty sure that the higher ups are just waiting for me to give them a green light to dispose of me and what I know.

I can't always be there to protect you; to hold you and tell you everything is going to be all right. I want to. I really do. But I know that I can't. You're a big girl now, Shiho. So… so stop being so stubborn and accept the hands that will reach out to you. I trust you to make the right decisions. I trust you to live. If I die, Shiho, I want you to live for me.

Good bye, Shiho.

Haha. This feels so overdramatic. But... if this will be my last words, I want it to be remembered. I want you to know that I have and I will always love you. I love you no matter what. I love you the most. More than I love anyone else. More than our parents. More than Dai-chan. I love you. Good bye.

Your sister always,

Akemi

The only sound inside the cold four-walled room apart from the TV was the silent sobbing of a little girl. It was the same way abused children cry. Silent because they knew no one would be there to console them. Silent because if they were loud they might be hurt. And in this case, silent because she knew that the person to hold her was gone.

The little girl who was and wasn't Haibara Ai cried that night for so many reasons. She cried to mourn her sister. She cried because it has been so long since she last heard her sister's voice or see her face. She cried because that small videotape was the only remaining proof that Miyano Akemi existed. She cried because she would never feel her sister's warm embrace or see her beautiful smile. She cried because she didn't say 'I love you' to her before she died. She cried because she knew she couldn't say it. She knew her sister loved her, but did her sister know that she reciprocated it? She wanted to say it, but she knew that no matter how many times she does so… her sister would never hear.

((actually, I wanted to have a Akemi-survived story written but I lost my draft of it. Basically, Akemi knew she would die. But she won't let them off her. So, she staged her death. She took tetrodotoxin - poison in pufferfish which would look like she died. Her 'corpse' disappeared in the morgue. She had a partner, see. The partner would be the one to detoxify her. But due to some series of events, the partner died and she was left in a coma. Ta-da. She would be hospitalized, a Jane Doe, and she'd be given a name. And bla-bla-bla... stuff, stuff, stuff...))