Monsters of Men
Philosophy. The topic where people hear a few quotes, however out of context or distorted beyond comprehension they may be, and assume they understand someone's point of view. As examples Machiavelli never stated, "the end justifies the means". He stated that sometimes people need to take actions necessary for the better, even if they may be unethical, with hopes that the actions aren't forgiven but looked pass. Particularly in referencing overthrowing a tyrannical ruler. Also, Hobbes never claimed people were inherently evil. He was telling that humans will always be in conflict as they have clashing desires. It's the people who manipulate the text—to distort it—that made these men seem evil. Monsters are human, and human make the monsters.
—Akari
Chapter One: How it Started
Reincarnation. I had never believed such things, so I never listened into the mechanisms of how it was supposed to happen. Yet, I was certain that rebirth was supposed to mean being reborn in the future, not be sent back to be born in 1982. Nevertheless, for all intents and purposes I was currently living under the name Akari Kujou.
I grew up with everything this life had to throw at me: my father murdered, mother committing suicide—leaving me behind, being sent to live with my aunt's family. Not to mention going to school again: some old content, some new, and other things that were embarrassingly easy but had been forgotten until that point. With effort, I had made it into To-Oh University and was currently in my third year.
There were days that I questioned whether my other life was ever real as more and more memories fade with time, replaced with my new life. Other days I was disassociated with my surroundings believing the person known as Akari to only be a lie—which ironically it was, in more ways than one.
I took a mouthful of rice in my mouth when my mobile phone rang. I groaned recognizing the ringtone trying to remind myself why I hadn't blocked the number yet.
Accepting the call, I pressed the phone against her ear. "Hi Auntie." I pinched the bridge of my nose as I listened. "I have classes." I frowned. "I understand. I'll go." I ended the call before groaning. Can't that woman do anything herself? The very least she could do is discipline Asahi. He's her child. But nooooo. Having a husband who is almost never home is apparently an excuse to not properly raise a child and dump his issues on me.
The rant was not anything new. It was becoming a more frequent occurrence with Asahi amidst his teen years who has had minimum supervision. But I should help him, shouldn't I? It wasn't his fault that his parents are rarely there for him. He could still be a major brat some days though.
I finished her meal before gathering her things and leaving campus.
Daigoku Private Academy. It was the same school that Auntie had sent me to when I attended high school. Honestly, it was a bit of surprise I hadn't had to revisit the place until now. Nearly eight whole months before Asahi created a commotion that warranted speaking to a guardian—granted a little over a month of that consist of summer vacation.
I navigated the hallways to the staff room. I lightly bowed when I entered the room. As expected, my younger cousin was sitting across from the principle. The principle seemed surprise that a young woman was here—considering Asahi's age it was a clear sign that I wasn't his mother. Asahi, on the other hand, grimaced and twisted his head to face away from me.
I reached the desk and bowed deeper this time. "I apologize for any trouble Asahi-kun has caused."
The principle closed his eyes and sighed. Clearly, I was the only one going to show up to deal with the issue at hand.
"Kitamura-san—"
"Her name is Akari Kujou." Asahi intervened in a hollow tone.
The principle looked to Asahi before returning to look at me for confirmation. His eyes sparked with recognition before she could respond. "Ah. Kujou-san. Akari Kujou! You attended here, yes?"
"I did. It flatters me that you remember." I smiled. I didn't care. Why would it matter if my former principal remembered me? Especially since he was the kind of man who liked to use students as trophies to popularize the school further while boasting himself as if the students' achievements were his own. Asahi was currently in trouble, though, and I could use this to my advantage. Hopefully to reduce his punishments or necessary reimbursements.
"I didn't recognize you at first. You've grown." Despite the good intentions I couldn't help but view the comment as a little creepy. "But you aren't someone who I can forget so easily. You were a good student. If only you hadn't entered so many competitions you may have even been able to rank first." I ranked eighth in my final year of high school. Compared to Takahashi-san who ranked first, I had higher participation—particularly in the district which, to the principle, is more advertising than Takahashi-san who only ever studied.
"I was content with my opportunities. Plus, I still managed to get into the school I wanted." I didn't care about my grades. All grade represented was how much an individual could remember specific content on a given date. It could not measure real understanding of any given subject. Not that there couldn't be a correlation between a grade and knowledge, just that correlation was not absolute nor the reasoning. School could also only teach so much at any given time. Many topics are skimmed over or skipped since they had to stick with the curriculum.
For example, history. They mainly teach dates and names or people and events while leaving out the details. What was the point of history if you could not analyse it? Histography and microhistory were highly interesting but rarely touched upon. Hmmm… to put it in perspective, many of my peers are still not aware as to why our neighbouring countries still harbour grudges even if borders had been reopened a little over a decade ago. Not that I think we should emulate Germany who constantly shame their students in history classes, but it shouldn't be an either-or issue.
"That's good. That's good."
Asahi scoffed. He was always grouchy whenever Saori or I were complemented or praised. Saori being his sister and my older cousin. Saori was their parents' pride. Even more so when she was hired at a law firm two years ago. Furthermore, when Uncle became a candidate for Deputy Directory for the National Police Agency, I was able to find (hack) information about the other candidate that wasn't good for his reputation. It was what cemented me into their family dynamics. In comparison this left Asahi as average, if not a troublemaker in comparison.
It really wasn't a surprise that he developed a temper.
"Forgive me, but may we move on to the issue with Asahi?"
"Kitamura-san has a history of disrupting classes. We've been issuing punishments and detentions, but his behaviour hasn't been changing." I looked to Asahi who only looked disinterested. "Disturbing classmates, quizzes and the use of vulgar language. We've noticed this trend with his transcripts. We believe that there may be some home issues that need to be resolved or at the very least we require that his parents help in the discipline," he said.
It now made sense that the principle wasn't demanding that his parents be there. Some parents would endlessly complain that they were being told how to raise their child—or take it as a personal attack as a parent.
"I don't need their help!" yelled Asahi.
He was right. It wasn't their help he needed. It was their attention that he wanted, and to a degree attention would solve several things—but not everything. He wanted their attention but beyond that was his struggling inferiority complex. That wasn't an issue anyone else could resolve for him. Validation isn't a solution; it's a bandage. Something to temporarily cover the problem until it manifests in another way.
Honestly, his mother should be the one here dealing with him.
I certainly didn't want to.
I gently tapped the side of my hand against the top of his head. "You shouldn't misdirect your anger." He probably didn't even realize that he was misdirecting his anger. No. That undermines his ability to understand himself. To some degree he knew. However, emotions are a fickle thing. We don't even realize how much they blind us sometimes.
"Don't touch me." He swatted my hand away.
"We'll discuss this later. We shouldn't be bothering the principle with your personal problems. I know you know better." I bowed once more to the principle. From the corner of my eye I noticed that Asahi still sat with his arms crossed. I brought up a hand and forced his head down.
"Gah." He'll get over it.
"We apologize. I'll be sure to pass the message to his parents."
We tied up are chat. Asahi was sent back to class while I exited the building.
Walking on the path way I noticed a black notebook on the grass. Had someone dropped it? Forgotten it? Or maybe trying to throw it away? Considering that she was still on school property the probability was almost certainty. I picked it up.
Death Note. The words were in white on the cover. Death Note? I flipped through the pages. The first page noting some rules. That sounded familiar. Wasn't that a manga? The one with Kira versus L and Shinigami. Hmmm. Was it already beginning to be published? Merchandise then. Someone wouldn't be happy when they notice that they lost it.
Oops.
I accidently ripped the corner of a page. It wasn't really my problem. I could have just left it there if I wanted to. The owner shouldn't be surprised if they were reckless enough to leave their things laying about. Nevertheless, I tore it completely out. Going back and ripping the ridges that were still visible. Honestly, she could just imagine the meltdown the owner would have. People had the oddest attachments to the most trivial things.
I placed the book back down. It wasn't like I knew who to return it to.
With nowhere to dispose of the litter, I shoved the page into my bag.
Maybe I should go buy a copy since it's been released. I could vaguely remember some of the events but there was a lot I forgot. But I still remembered some so that must have said something about the quality of the story—at least in entertainment value.
I just passed the school gates when I received a call. I took my phone out. These were such bulky machines. Maybe I should just build a smaller one. But without the technology available it would be expensive making the pieces. As it was I already use most of my money on upgrading my computer. I guess I could make software to sell but that would come at a price. Increasing usability endorses the technology faster but it would then devalue my own skill set, and I quite having the advantage.
Staying with the computer is was.
I groaned. I would probably be 30 before a decent mobile, to my standards, came out.
"Hello."
"Akari! Are you busy?" The cheery tone was distinguishably Saori.
I wouldn't be able to make it back to the university in time for my last class so… "No, I'm free."
"That's great! Then let's meet in Harajuku."
"Now?" I blinked. Saori worked hard but on her time off she was a bit of a hedonist. I would never admit it aloud but Saori's hedonistic tendencies were something I admired.
"Yep. I'm finished work for the day and need some girl time. Mi-chan and Ro-chan are tied up with work, so you have to come."
So, I was her third choice. Not unexpected. She was a sociable person, but with all the unpaid overtime to stay on top of her work Saori had drifted off from several of her friends. Not to mention, after graduating there always ends up being people you don't talk to anymore.
Well here goes a good chunk of my money. It wasn't all bad. It was nice going out with others on occasion. Something to mix up the routine. Also, if I don't there is a good chance I'll be nagged at, and not by Saori but by Auntie Hinako.
"Sounds good. You want to meet up at that new café?" I received affirmation before heading to my destination.
It had been an enjoyable evening for the most part. They met up at the new café. Their lattes and cheesecake were good but the dango were average for its price.
Saori was adamant that I buy some new clothes to attract the men. It probably had something to do with the fact that she wanted some new clothes to attract men since it had been two months since she got dumped by her boyfriend of two years. Saori also paid for the two of us to have manicures and pedicures.
No matter how many times I got dragged out to do them, it was still an odd feeling. A mix of satisfaction that I could afford to have someone pamper me and unsettled that someone was pampering me.
We ended up taking a taxi home together in which Saori was trying to pry into my personal life. I didn't really think there was anything to dig up though. Nothing interesting. She didn't believe that though. I would even lie to her so Saori could have something to satisfy her curiosity. It wasn't just Saori. I would do that to anyone who tried to pry.
It was stupid how much I compulsively lied on the most mundane of topics simply because I never knew how to answer or believed they would think my answers stupid. That probably says more about me than them. To be fair, I struggled with small talk. I didn't see the purpose.
We paid the driver and approached the front door with our hands full of bags. We even bought a cake to share with the rest of the family.
When we opened the door, we were both surprised to see Uncle home. Saori being the daddy's girl that she was dropped her bags and ran to give him a hug. Except she had been holding the cake. Sure, this was probably the first time this week that I had seen Uncle Koreyoshi, but I was more concerned about the outcome of the cake.
A light, fluffy, vanilla cake, layered with fruit.
I opened the box to see the splatter mess. It was still edible. There hadn't been any doubt there, but the appearance was as delicate as a pie that had been smashed into someone's face.
"You're home, Uncle," I greeted. His job apparently stressful enough that most days that he did get out at a decent hour was spent drinking with colleagues.
Have I mentioned that Japan has an overworking problem? Because it does. Not that overworking your liver is going to magically solve that.
He finished hugging Saori, so I passed him the cake. "You chose I good night to come home. We have cake." Once the word cake escaped my lips, Saori raised her hands over her mouth in horror.
"Sorry, Dad. I may have wrecked it." She was instantly forgiven.
The rest of the night wasn't so relaxing. I told Uncle Koreyoshi and Auntie Hinako about my meeting with Asahi's principle. He looked betrayed that I told them. More so that I announced it with Saori there. He had it coming. I tried helping him before, but I am tired of being sent out by Auntie to solve discipline problems.
Then I passed Uncle the files he had asked me for. Once he officially became Deputy Director, he thoroughly went through a disciplinary stage for a more unified police force. Personally, I think he judge them too hardly on some of their past, but at the core he was attempting to rid anyone that could possibly put the police and the agency in a scandal. That's the government for you.
He would even pay me for doing background checks on new recruits. I never even needed to step foot in the office.
It was also the same reason that he never questioned (more than once) why I hadn't chosen computers as my subject of study. It was a waste of time as I wouldn't learn anything.
I finally excused myself to bed.
And I slept peacefully, despite it was then that it all started.
It was December 3rd. There had been several criminals reported to have had heart attacks. It wouldn't have been odd alone, but the scale and the locations were odd. It was eerie. I wasn't a medical expert, but this did seem odd. If it wasn't worldwide than I would have thought that someone was trying a new drug illegally on inmates. But no. Not everyone was an inmate. Merely decidedly a criminal.
I logged into my computer and went into the government records. I was stunned. All circumstances are never reported but this was ridiculous. I scrolled through the names.
For a moment I thought of Death Note. I even thought back to the one I picked up. No. It had to be a coincidence. It was ridiculous to think that… but since when did I believe in absolutes. If it's not impossible than it is only improbable.
Doubtful, yet still curious, I tried a different tactic. I searched the Japanese database for the name Yagami. The database showed twelve individuals. Two if narrowed the search by districts. One was an administrator for records and the other a chief. Chief Soichiro Yagami. Was that him? There were only a handful of names that she was certain of anymore and Soichiro wasn't one of them. The position seemed right, but she couldn't be sure.
Tsuki Yagami? Was that right? Light from Death Note had a weirdly spelt name. I'm pretty sure that the fandom fought over it for a while. It was the only reason I'm even questioning it. There was nothing I could do to be certain, though, besides maybe stalk the boy to see if Ryuk was around. But if it were true there would be a T.V. announcement soon with L, right? Then there isn't a need for so much for affirmation.
I could send a message though. If this was my mind convincing myself that this was a manga universe than it would be considered spam. If it was real, then perhaps I can get a reaction. But with a quick internet search it became evident that Kira fan sites were already established.
I created a new account. With my software it would take months to track. I found his address and sent a message:
Have you ever met Lind L. Tailor?
Wait? Was that the decoy's name? This is why I find memory unreliable. The oddest knowledge sticks to you while you forget names who should have a place in your memory. There weren't exactly consequences if she was wrong but if it was it could be hilarious. This is why I have characters die in games. It's best to know every possible outcome and how one piece can change everything.
Have you ever met Lind L. Tailor?
If you don't be careful, he'll be your first mistake.
I linger over the send button. I clench my eyes close as my forefinger presses the mouse.
Well that's done. No going back now.
I look outside where it looks ready to storm. Somehow, I don't think I will sleep well tonight.
"We interrupt your programming to bring you an important message from the ICPO. This is being broadcast all over the world. Japanese voiceover provided by translator Yoshio Anderson." The announcement gained Light's attention. "My name is Lind L. Tailor, widely known as 'L'".
Vaguely in the back of his head, Light recalled the odd message he received yesterday that he immediately dismissed and deleted.
Have you ever met Lind L. Tailor?
If you don't be careful, he'll be your first mistake.
"Who is this guy?" Ryuk watched over Light's shoulder.
"To the perpetrator of these serial murders: you have committed the most abdominal act in history. I will personally catch the one behind it… "Kira" at any cost."
"At any costs?"
Light laughed. "How can you possibly catch me? It's all the notebook! If you don't have this, you have nothing on me! I cannot be caught. I was expecting the law to do something like this," he bragged. There was no way he could be caught. There was no evidence. Only a notebook. And he was the God of this new world.
"Kira I think I have a pretty good idea of what you're trying to do and why you're doing it. But what you're doing… is evil!"
"Me evil? I am justice!" Ranting, Light wrote down Lind. L. Tailor in the Death Note. He didn't even listen what the fool who dared cross him. Instead he counted down until L's inevitable death. He laughed with satisfaction as L clutched his chest and died.
Only it wasn't L. It was all a ruse.
Have you ever met Lind L. Tailor?
If you don't be careful, he'll be your first mistake.
Light slammed his fists on his desk. No one could beat him. He was Light. He was a God. He would not be caught. Never! He had grown comfortable with his power and now that there was a semblance of threat he was hysterical. Invincibility shattered into a frenzied panic.
It was only a Japan wide broadcast.
His phone pinged with a message.
I warned you, didn't I? Lind L. Tailor was your first mistake. Will you make more?
His grip turned white on his phone. Did L already know? No. If they did the police would be at the door. But there was no proof? Was he under suspicion? Was this person L too?
"I will destroy you!"
It didn't' matter. I laughed. Whether I was dreaming, conscious of my fictionality, or a mental case—it didn't matter. The eager sensation of knowing. The thrill of manipulations. Observing the what ifs! Knowledge is power, and for once I had a lot of it. Empowering. Liberating. The circumstances made me tingle with pleasure. For once—I was excited.
This was happening.
L.
Light.
I laughed.
This was "real".
Akari's Corner
Hello. You know me as Akari Kujou. And no my name doesn't mean light. Though that would be irony wouldn't it? My name is spelt 九条- Kujou meaning 9 and 丹李- Akari meaning Red Plum.
Whose side am I on? My own of course. Aren't we all on are own side? If you aren't you should probably recheck your life choices. Even Misa who was willing to be used was on her own side you know. Besides, rather than sides don't you think their goals became second to their desires to face someone just like themselves.
