*takes a deep breath* Okay...ready...get set...EDIT!
Lies Upon Lies
"Sir, we've got another case!"
"What is it this time?"
"It's another robbery at the new jewelry store on Krance Avenue! Our men on the other side of town are already chasing the thief on foot!"
"Damn, another robbery case," he muttered under his breath. "All right, tell them I'm on my way to the scene. Until then, have them corner the thief in an alley, an abandoned shop or warehouse, whatever—just tell them to hold our thief down."
"Got it, sir!"
"And for Christ's sake, drop the 'sir'. You know I hate that. Are you trying to aggravate me on purpose?"
"I'm sorry, s—er, Ventus." The operator then proceeded to relay his instructions to the men in pursuit.
Ventus got up from his chair and headed to his car with a sigh. This was the fifth robbery case in three weeks…he wished something of note would happen.
Like most of the thieves in Redbrook, the criminal was simple enough to track down. And like most other cases like this, there was little to no excitement.
And Ventus had had enough of it.
When he'd applied to become an agent four years prior, he had his share of dangerous crimes here and there since then, though they were mostly out of the city. Here, the worst thing that ever happened was drug-trafficking—and even then infrequently. He could've been expecting a little too much from the job, but that was still no excuse.
Despite this, Ventus was promoted quickly due to his innate sense of intuition when it came to solving cases, no matter how minor, and that meant he usually hit home with his first suspect. In just two years Ventus had gathered his own team and was the go-to agent in this middle-class city whenever something out of the ordinary occurred—sometimes out of the city, or occasionally even the state. His reputation spread up and down the East Coast due to the fact that he was the youngest person to become a chief law enforcement agent New York in nearly a century. He made decent enough money, lived in an expensive condo, drove a sophisticated car, and he was even somewhat popular with the ladies due to his wit (not that it really mattered to him in the long run since he didn't have time to deal with women).
None of that guaranteed his happiness with himself, however.
Work was now going dead-slow, and Ventus felt like he was just slogging through each day at work so that he could go home and read newspapers over a bowl of noodles. He didn't know if it was from his supposed "reputation" or what, but the rate of crime was getting low enough that he considered putting himself out of work so he could find work somewhere else where he was actually needed.
He swore to himself that if he didn't get a decent case by the end of the week, he would close down his headquarters and head off to Washington, D.C.
Ventus woke up late Friday morning, and he didn't want to get up—he just wanting to lie there all day. He didn't have the motivation in him to do anything productive at the moment. He'd had it with the monotony. All that he'd ever accomplished in his office was beating the computer at chess thirteen times in a row; he couldn't even find a halfway decent reason to go to work today.
Rumpling his disheveled dark blonde hair, he reached for his cell phone to call in sick, but right as he picked it up it rang. Slightly annoyed, Ventus answered the call.
"This is Reed. Who's this?"
"Hey there, Ven! It's me, Sora!" chipped a cheery voice on the other end.
Ventus groaned inwardly. Him again, he thought to himself. Sora Reyes was a kendoka apprentice at the local kendo instructional facility. That and somewhat of an annoyance of a friend when it came to tact. Ventus couldn't for the life in him remember why he had kept him around.
"Sora? What do you want so early in the morning?" Ventus yawned.
"Early?" Sora's voice sounded pleasantly miffed. "It's not early, it's past eleven! You sound wired; did you just wake up? Shouldn't you be at work?"
"To answer your questions: yeah, I woke up about ten seconds ago. And I probably should be at work, but I'm not. Just can't find it in me to go."
"Aw, come on, Ven; you never know what happens in the course of a day!" Sora encouraged brightly. "It could be it today!"
Whatever patience Ventus had for his longtime friend vanished instantly as Sora had hit a nerve. He sat up. "That's what you've been telling me this entire week! I'm not falling for it again!" he raged. "Each time you raise my hopes, it gets shot down! I'm getting sick of nothing ever happening, and you're not helping matters one bit!" Ventus was irritated enough to hang up on him right then and there, but for the sake of prudence he rescinded.
"…Sorry, Ven," Sora mumbled on the other end of the line. He sounded contrite. "I was only saying that you could look on the bright side of things… Guess I went about it the wrong way, huh?"
Instantly Ventus felt a pang of guilt shoot through his chest. He'd let his temper get away from him. "Hey—Sora, no, it wasn't your fault!" Ventus said hurriedly, feeling sorry himself. "That's not it, man, it's—" Ventus braced his forehead against his hand as he searched for words. "Look, I—I'm the one who should be sorry. I guess everything (or the lack thereof) that's been happening had just built up inside. The stress got to me. Sorry," he finished, feeling like a complete idiot.
"No problem, man. I know you're not having a whole lot of fun; I honestly don't blame you for it. But hey, if you're not going to work today, then come by my place and let loose some of that stress. I'm ditching my kendo class today, anyway. The hanshi is out sick and we've got that knock-off renshi who can't tell a shinai's top from its bottom. I'm not wasting my time with a mediocre practitioner like that. What do you say?" Sora suggested.
Ventus was startled. "Now? But Sora—"
"C'mon, I insist!" Sora urged. "Everyone's got to have a sick day sometime, right? Well, we just happened to pick the same day! Don't be such a sore spot, Ven; come on over!"
"I wasn't trying to be—" Sora didn't let him finish.
"I'll be expecting you to be knocking on my door by eleven-thirty or else I'll be going over there and dragging you back myself!"
"Hey, Sora, would you listen for once?" Ventus tried to cut in. "I'm not being a sore spot; I was just wondering—"
Sora cut him off again. "I'm not taking any excuses, Ven! No weaseling out or else I'm going to do good on my threat! I gotta go now; my toaster is microseconds from setting off the fire alarm! See you in twenty minutes!" Sora then hung up, leaving Ventus completely bewildered.
"That guy…" he muttered to himself, staring at his phone with a bemused grin. "He's got a one-track mind."
Sora had been right in one way, at least. He seriously needed a vacation from all the nonsense, trivial as it was. And if he knew anyone that could lighten his mood, it was Sora. He swung off his bed and prepared to head out.
Sora lived in an apartment complex a couple miles from where Ventus lived called Gardengate, which was at the intersection of Elder Street and Goldveil Boulevard. It was middle-class, unexceptional, and (in Ventus's opinion) very poorly named. The entire place was concrete and asphalt; the only greenery anywhere were the potted plants in the residents' windowsills, and even a majority of those were looking sickly. Sora's apartment was nothing special, but that didn't alleviate the weirdness of the place in any way.
The moment Ventus stepped into the apartment he immediately took a step back out.
"Dear Lord," Ventus blurted out with a look of disgust. "What the hell did I just walk into?"
The place was a complete dump. The faded mauve carpet was strewn with bits of paper, crumbs, and plastic wrappings. The coffee table in the living room was crammed to the threshold with trash of all sorts that he wished he didn't recognize. Every piece of furniture that could be covered in dust was, as if it hadn't been cleaned in years. The couch was worn and moldy, and had several rips here and there.
And that was just the living room. He didn't even want to imagine the state the rest of the apartment was in.
"Don't you get started," Sora's voice carried from the kitchen. There was a loud clang clang from where his voice seemed to come from. "I know it's a bit cluttered; shut up."
"A bit?" Ventus spluttered in disbelief. "A bit?!"
"Quit with the criticism already! Come here, I need a favor done!" Sora complained.
Resigning himself to the worst, Ventus picked his way across the living room into the kitchen, from whence a thin but definitely present haze of smoke issued. He coughed as he approached Sora —still in his pajamas —beating on his smoking, stained, once-white toaster with a plastic spatula. It already had dents and scratch marks from the other pieces of cutlery on the kitchen counter.
"Hey, hey, cut that out!" Ventus protested, snatching the spatula out of Sora's scarred hands. He didn't even seem to notice the heat of the toaster on his skin. "You'll destroy it and soon you won't have anything to toast your bread with!"
"Well—I—I'm not—I was only trying to fix it!" Sora said defensively, his tanned face going red. "My toaster got jammed and it won't let my bread out!"
"You keep banging on it and you won't have anything to fix!"
"Okay, fine then!" Sora tossed the toaster aside and scratched his disheveled brown hair in annoyance. "You fix the damn thing since you're so smart."
Ventus was miffed. "What makes you think that I can fix it?"
"'Cause you're a detective," Sora retorted as he turned his back to him with an exaggerated pout. "Figure it out for yourself."
"Yeah, okay; play the you-can-figure-it-out-since-you're-a-detective card. Your excuses suck, Sora."
"Whatever."
Ventus pulled the plug of the toaster out of the outlet. "First, we'll need to have the toaster cool down since I can't do anything if I can't touch it. Next, we should open a window or two to let out the smoke. I can barely breathe with it in the air."
Sora obliged by throwing open a window in the kitchen next to the dining table.
"While we wait," Ventus continued, eyeing the dirtied apartment critically, "we can tidy up the place. I'm not having my friend live in a decked-out dumpster."
The tone of his voice made it clear to Sora that he wasn't going to take no for an answer, and so Sora agreed begrudgingly.
They spent the next three hours cleaning house, and the apartment was eventually de-smoked, dustless, and trash-free. It could have gone more quickly if it hadn't been for Sora getting distracted by long-lost mementos here and there.
"Hey, I found the BB gun that Riku sent me for Christmas five years ago!"
"That's great, now put it somewhere far away from the boiler."
Ten minutes later…
"Whoa, it's the chocolate pudding I lost last July! …Wait a minute, it says it's vanilla…Oh, Christ, this is disgusting. Want to take a look at this?"
"D'you think I want to?! Just throw it away! And keep cleaning, for God's sake! Any more interruptions and I swear I'll light this apartment on fire!"
"Fine, fine. Touchy, aren't you."
"Shut up."
When they'd finally finished, Ventus went back into the kitchen to check on the toaster, and almost immediately after picking it up and examining the push lever he discovered the culprit. Buried inside the lever was a broken toothpick. He managed to pick it out with a wooden chopstick and pressed the release button. The toast popped out with little difficulty. Ventus then pulled out the rock-hard bread and tossed it in the trash bag hanging from the sink cabinet.
Right then Sora stumbled into the kitchen as he tripped over a stray box. He swore incomprehensibly and kicked the box out of the way on his way to Ventus. He noticed the black toast in the trash bag and looked to Ventus.
"Oh, so you fixed it?" Sora didn't sound all that grateful. "Great. Thanks."
"Don't throw a fit over your gratitude; you'll hurt yourself," Ventus said dryly.
"Sorry. Just tired." Sora glanced at the clock hanging above the oven and whistled. "Cripes," he remarked. "It's almost three. I gotta get ready."
Ventus raised an eyebrow. "Get ready? For what? You said you were ditching your class today."
"Well, not my entire life revolves around mandatory labor, Ven. I'm going somewhere with someone today."
"Who?"
Sora hesitated. "Er…Kairi. Kairi Cress."
"Cress?!" Ventus exclaimed, in complete incredulity. "You're still going out with that skank?!"
"Look, I know she's a whiny bitch," Sora countered, obviously annoyed. "Just bear with me, okay? She's got a lot of problems and the only person she can unload them on is me. You know, since her parents kicked her out and everything."
"Frankly, I'm not surprised to hear that at all," Ventus groaned as he stalked out of the kitchen back into the living room before turning on Sora again. "Man, you've got to get rid of her. She's making your life a living hell! Find a decent woman, why can't you?"
"You have no idea how much I want to do that, Ven, but I'm not going to!" Sora interjected firmly. "It isn't right to let her destroy herself from the inside out because she has no one to confide in! She's just as much a person as you or me, and I'm only helping her because it's the right thing to do no matter how much of a living hell it is! You did the same thing with your brother, so don't you even start that argument!"
Ventus tensed and pointed at him threateningly. "Don't you dare bring him into this, you bastard. This is a completely different issue!"
"No, it's not!" Sora snapped angrily. "You did do the same thing, so don't deny it! Ever since the doctors told you that he had lung cancer you had to break your back helping him over the weekends to make sure he didn't pass out because he couldn't breathe right. You paid for his surgeries and medications and hell if there was more! He made your life difficult and he knew it! It's not like he wanted to do something like that, and of course he was sorry about making things stressful for you. And your excuse was that it was something you had to do! This is the same thing!"
Ventus fought the overpowering urge to punch him squarely in the face. Then he said in a restrained voice, "Goddamn it, Sora. If what you'd just said didn't make sense, I would've slugged you in the face five seconds ago just for mentioning my brother."
"That's how you always feel, isn't it?" Sora shot back bitterly. "It's always the same thing. I always mess everything up in your eyes. I always cross the line, and I don't know that I've done it until it's too late because you're too fucking nice about it."
"Sora—"
Sora turned away abruptly. "Forget it. I'm lucky that you still talk to me." He stalked into the hallway without looking back. "I'm going to go get ready now, if you don't mind." Ventus distinctly heard the door to his friend's room slam shut, and then he dropped into the couch with a heavy sigh, feeling very subdued.
Damn it all, Ventus thought. Why did he have to go and mention him?
Ventus didn't like to talk about it, but he once had a younger twin brother named Roxas, who had been overshadowed by Ventus himself. They were about as different as the earth and sky, but like so they complimented each other well. Ventus had been bolder than Roxas, and Roxas had been somewhat cowardly and came off as weak due to that. However, he'd been much easier to get along with than Ventus, since he hadn't always been overbearing about his ideals as his older twin was. He had also been wise beyond his years, so if anyone had any problems, Roxas was the first person they asked.
It had been amazing that Roxas could maintain such a cheerful outlook on his life when it had been anything but—he had been born with weak lungs, and so he frequently fell sick. He'd never been fit enough to join in activities with his friends. Ventus, as his older sibling, often had to sit out these activities as well in order to care for him. He had to sacrifice much of his time to make sure his brother wasn't feeling too left out of anything, and also had to act as a parental figure, since their biological parents had left them when they were only ten and thus had been forced to take that mantle. They hadn't been able to find a family willing to take them in.
On top of this, they both still had to complete middle school and their four years of high school without any outside guidance. Roxas had often been absent due to him falling sick, so Ventus had to visit his brother's teachers and ask for their daily assignments as well as struggle with his own studies at those times. Ventus had needed all the free time he could get in order for him to be with Roxas, so he was never involved in any school activities. Ventus also helped his brother with the college application process, selecting the schools that Roxas would be well-cared for should it happen that the two of them ended up at different schools.
But the final blow did not come until soon after they managed to graduate from high school.
On the eve of their eighteenth birthday, Roxas fell violently ill. He wouldn't stop coughing and he wasn't breathing properly. Ventus had panicked and desperately tried to keep his brother conscious while trying to get out of him what was wrong. All he'd managed to understand was that there was a stabbing pain in his chest. Eventually his coughs worsened in that he started coughing up blood—copious amounts of it. Ventus had realized that this was much worse than it appeared, and immediately contacted the nearest hospital, who responded right away and wasted no time in coming to pick the two of them up.
Ventus had been barred from the Emergency Room and was not allowed to see his brother until the next day. He burst through the hospital entrance the second it opened the following morning and waited outside the ER for what seemed like ages. A doctor had approached and Ventus had accosted him. When he'd pressed him consistently for details, the doctor finally caved and informed Ventus that his brother had been diagnosed with lung cancer. The atmosphere had grown heavy then. He urgently pleaded with the doctor for more specifics.
Was he going to make it? he had asked the doctor. Would he live?
The doctor's grim expression had been burned into his mind that day as he delivered the news. He had said that his brother had at most two to three years to live. They had seen that they had caught the cancer much too late. In fact, the personnel had been astonished that Roxas had managed to hang on for so long without any medical care. The doctor told him that the best they could do for him was to ease his pain.
Ventus gave them the typical response. He denied it with every fiber of his being.
"No!" Ventus screamed at the doctor. "You're lying to me! He isn't going to die; he's not dying! Damn it, you're a doctor! Save him!"
"I'm sorry, young man, but if we tried to do anything now we'll only end up making things worse for him," the doctor explained patiently. "It's best for him if we keep him from feeling too much pain before he expires."
"No…no, that's not true…" Ventus's voice was quieter than a whisper, shaking in grief. He looked desperately up at the doctor. "Please, you've got to save him; he's the only family I've got left—I can't lose him—please—anything—I don't want to —you can't give up yet, you've got to do something —anything—"
The doctor looked sympathetic, and Ventus wanted to slap that expression right off his face. He didn't understand anything. He didn't know how much he'd gone through to keep his brother healthy. He'd given up a life of leisure to make sure his brother would live normally. And after all these years of nurture and care they tell him that he only had three years left? None of these bastards knew what he had to endure, what he had to hold inside so no one would see the stress piling on him. In an instant all that was gone. His brother was going to die despite all his efforts. He felt like a complete waste. Ventus stared down at the white marbled tiles, his hands shaking at his sides.
"Would you like to see him?" the doctor asked him gently. "We've moved him to an infirmary."
Ventus could only nod jerkily in response, still staring at the floor. The doctor led him past a series of hallways until they came to Roxas's ward. The doctor left the two of them alone as a bedridden Roxas stared benignly up at his brother. Perhaps it was the harsh lights of the room, but Roxas looked paler and thinner than usual, and his blue eyes looked as if they'd glazed over.
Roxas greeted him easily. "Hey, Ven," he said quietly. "I'm in the hospital, aren't I?"
Ventus nodded. "Y-yeah. You had another attack so I brought you here as fast as I could." He couldn't bring himself to say more. Roxas, however, hadn't lost his perception in his sudden weakness.
"I know." Roxas stared up at the ceiling with a small smile as Ventus's jaw dropped in shock. "They told me everything. You don't need to hold anything in, Ven. You don't deserve any more of the burden, so I'll share it with you this time."
Ventus couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Th-they told you?"
"Yeah."
Ventus couldn't take anymore. He buried his face in his hands and lamented, "This is all my fault."
Roxas looked alarmed. "Ven, how can you say something like that? You're the reason I'm here."
"Exactly," Ventus muttered into his hands. "You're here because of me. I landed you on that deathbed. I just can't stand it; I—"
"Now just hold it right there, Ven. Don't talk like that," Roxas interrupted firmly. "If it hadn't been for you I wouldn't even be here talking to you right now. But since you brought me here I still have some more time. You were there to help me whenever I needed it, so don't you dare delude yourself into thinking that everything you did for me was a waste just because I happen to have cancer."
Ventus could only stare in shock.
"Roxas…you really…?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Roxas's voice was a bit stronger now. "There's no way I'll ever forget. For my entire life, you were the only one who ever cared about me. Not even Mom and Dad cared, did they? They left us! No, they left me—I was too much of a burden to them and their ambitions and all that other crap that kept them so distant from us. They wanted to take you because you would help them along, since you were always so much better at doing technical things than I ever was. But you didn't want to go with them, and you stayed. I still remember every word you said to them, and I'll be damned if I don't think about it right before I die. Your deciding that you weren't going to abandon me was all I ever asked for. I didn't care about anything else; I didn't even care that Mom and Dad ran off on us." Roxas paused briefly and stared at the IV dripping medical fluids. His voice was quieter now but by no means did it reduce the impact of his words. "And I've always wanted to tell you…I felt so guilty because I kept you from living life the way you wanted to just to take care of me. But at the same time, I felt like the luckiest person ever. I still do. You're the reason I'm still here now, right? I owe everything to you, so…thanks."
This was so unexpected that Ventus was at a complete loss for words. A lump formed in his throat and his eyes threatened to well with tears. His chest felt tight, and he clamped his hands into fists.
"I know I don't have much time left, but I'm not going to waste it on a hospital bed for the next three years," Roxas went on, sureness in his tone. "And I don't want you to come up and visit me all the time, either. I'll do my best to get strong enough to take care of myself without your help. So you can go on doing what you want to. We can go to separate schools and you won't have to worry about me. You were accepted at Princeton, right? I know that's a ways away but you know that you could always call in to check up on me. Besides, I don't want you to be stressed about making sure I'm always in good shape. You deserve to rest for once in your life, Ven."
Ventus had been trying valiantly to suppress his emotions, but at these last words his willpower had completely crumbled. Tears spilled from his eyes and it was all he could do to avoid sobbing uncontrollably. His knees buckled underneath him and he fell against the side of the hospital bed and he half-lay, half-leaned against its frame, his shoulders shaking from unrelenting grief.
This reaction had been so sudden that Roxas momentarily panicked.
"V-Ven, are you—?"
"God damn it, Roxas…God damn it all!" Ventus choked out in an impassioned voice. Tears were spilling from his eyes like a rill and he gasped between words. "Why do you—have to be so—damn nice about everything—I can't stand it—it isn't fair—you're making me really—hate myself—since I always thought—it was always such—a pain in the ass—to take care of you—I thought that it—was a complete waste of my time—but—you had to go and —say something like that—you bastard—I'll never forgive myself—ever—I don't deserve to be—praised like that—"
Ventus was interrupted by his brother putting a hand on his shoulder to pull him into an embrace. Under normal circumstances he would've been embarrassed but the current situation didn't merit for such a reaction, nor did he particularly care if it looked stupid. He didn't have the strength to fight off the gesture, anyhow, nor to return it.
"C'mon, Ven…I don't want to see you like this; it's not like you to cry," Roxas told him, his own voice tremoring. He pulled back and smiled reassuringly at his brother's tear-streaked face, which was still in the grip of emotion.
"Ven, you gotta be strong for me, all right? So stop crying."
Ventus wiped his eyes as best as he could and stared at the white sheets of the bed, which had been stained by his tears. "Damn it, Roxas…you're way too nice…you could at least smack me or something…"
Roxas chuckled. "No, not today. I'll let you off since this was the first time. And okay, maybe I am a bit too nice," he admitted, "but seriously, I don't want to see you crying again…it's so awkward."
Despite himself, Ventus cracked a smile. He looked up at Roxas and promised, "Okay, I won't cry anymore, just because you'll hurt me otherwise. You happy?"
"Hey, hold up! I never said I would –"
"I was just kidding, Roxas." Ventus held out a hand to shake. "Really, though, I won't cry if it'll upset you. Brothers till the very end, man."
Roxas looked momentarily surprised, but his expression quickly eased as he clasped his brother's hand in a handshake. "You bet."
"Ven! Ventus! Hey, I'm talking to you!"
"Huh?"
"Would it kill you to pay attention the first time?!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I plead for your forgiveness, Kairi. I do hope you have the prudence to overlook my lack thereof. "
Kairi Cress, Sora's girlfriend only by name, had arrived. Ventus looked over her ensemble of clothes and thought, God, she's dressed like a complete whore…
Since she was sporting a black sequined tank top (strapless, too), denim short shorts, laced sandals, and with stretchy leggings under her shorts, Ventus had a good reason to think so. Her hair was also streaked in red, gold, and blue. The colors intermingled so much he couldn't tell whether her hair had initially been red or yellow. Plus, she had way too much makeup on and wore about fifty chain necklaces around her neck.
Kairi stared down with a haughty expression at Ventus, who had sprawled himself on the couch in the midst of his flashback, with cold cobalt eyes.
"Well?" she demanded, crossing her arms. "Where's Sora?"
She completely ignored Ventus's previous bit of sarcasm. Probably because she had no idea what he'd said.
"Beats me. Maybe in his room; he's probably still getting ready. Just wait a little."
"Ugh, I so don't have time for this. Tell him to get his sorry ass out here; we don't have all day!" Kairi snapped. "I just had to get the hung-over cop before my boyfriend; why couldn't he have been ready earlier?"
"Get your facts straight," Ventus grumped. She had such an abrasive demeanor it was really hard to not get pissed off at her. "I'm not a cop. I'm a law enforcement agent. Or, to avoid overworking your pinhead-sized brain, a detective. And in case you haven't noticed, he's been housecleaning with my help."
"So what, they're the same thing," she scoffed. "And that was the lamest excuse I've ever heard."
"Actually, they're not. And it's the truth. Stop bitching about things that happened already and just wait."
"Wha—are you saying that I'm a bitch?!" she shrieked.
"You said it, not me."
Kairi shook in fury, and her hand whistled through the air aimed at his face, but Ventus caught her on the wrist and glared at her as he kept her at bay. "You're in enough trouble already; don't push your luck."
Kairi shook him off and gave him an irritated look. "Yeah, yeah. No one cares, Ven."
Ventus fought the urge to slap her across the cheek for being so rude. He just couldn't understand why and how Sora put up with her for all this time. Ventus himself wouldn't have lasted two hours with her. If Kairi had such God-awful problems then she should go and have regular appointments with a therapist. That's what they were for, weren't they?
Just then Sora's voice carried out into the living room. "Hold up a sec, Kai! I'm nearly ready; give me a minute!"
Ventus simply stared at the ceiling, ignoring Kairi's gripes about how lazy Sora was and how he should feel lucky that she stayed with him. Ventus suppressed a laugh at that, since it was actually the other way around.
Sora finally emerged from the hallway wearing a simple Stanford sweater and black jeans. Why it took so long for him to get ready, Ventus didn't know.
"Well, about time," she huffed.
"Sorry, Kai; I misplaced my sweater, so—"
"I don't need your excuses. Just come on, we don't have all day." Kairi swept out of the door without waiting, leaving Sora and Ventus in awkward silence.
Sora sighed. "Man, she doesn't need to be such a bitch about it."
"You act like it's all new to you."
Sora didn't answer him.
"So, where are you guys going, exactly?" Ventus asked out of politeness rather than genuine curiosity.
Sora flushed at these words. "Uh, well—she, she told me not to tell you—since she thinks it's not any of your business," he confessed.
"Mmh. Fair enough, I guess." Ventus sat up and heaved himself off the couch, brushing the mold off of his jacket. "Guess I should be taking off, too, then."
"Where to? Going back home?"
"Nope." Ventus jangled his keys. "I'm going to go pay someone a long overdue visit."
The golden-red sun set over the buildings on the left side of the city, dousing the empty asphalt streets in a brilliant scarlet. The red rays of light streaking from the waning sun bathed the grass, wreaths of flowers, and plaques of Mauvere Cemetery in a warm shade of magenta.
There Ventus stood close to the heart of the burial grounds, gazing down at Roxas's bronze plaque emblazoned with his name, his birthday, and the day he died.
ROXAS ZACHARIAH REED
BORN 31 JULY 1986
DIED 10 MAY 2009
AGE 22
Roxas was just a name engraved on a slab of bronze among the scores of other forgotten names, but Ventus watched over the site like a determined sentinel whenever he came by. It wasn't easy to make the trip, as his job had kept him from taking the time off that he needed, but whenever he did stop by he would always recall a fond memory the two of them shared.
Today, owing to the events that had transpired earlier, a particular memory surfaced in his mind, and it had been the final conversation shared between the brothers right before the fateful day.
"Um…Ven…"
Ventus looked over at his brother. "Yeah? What's up?"
It was a warm May afternoon. Ventus was sitting next to his brother's hospital bed, visiting him during a break from work. Since by this time Ventus had completed his bachelor's degree in criminal prosecution at Princeton, he'd returned to New York and begun working at the local station as an intern. He wouldn't get the verdict until his internship was over, so he had no idea how he was doing.
As for Roxas, a week subsequent to his graduation in human anatomical studies, he had ended up in the hospital again after he began choking so much he'd turned blue.
Roxas looked down at his plain bed sheets in shame. "I…I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" he asked, surprised. "What for?"
"Well, look at me," he said, gesturing to himself. "I swore that I would take care of myself just fine, but here I am stuck on a hospital bed again. It's total déjà vu."
"So what's your point? It isn't exactly your fault your lungs failed on you."
"I know…but still—"
Ventus smiled reassuringly. "Don't sweat it, Roxas," he told him. "I'm always doing this kind of thing. It's no problem, honestly."
"And that's the problem," Roxas complained. "You've been doing this so often you just write it off like another event in your life without ever really living the way you wanted to."
"Like I said already, it isn't your fault, man." Ventus then eyed him suspiciously. "And if you've got something to say, then spit it out."
Roxas looked stunned, his eyes widening. "H-huh?"
"You were never all that good with subtlety," Ventus teased him. "There's something you want to say, then say it. There's no point in keeping it in, right?"
Roxas, somewhat nonplussed, sighed. "It's near impossible to hide things from you," he grumbled.
"I wouldn't have made the internship otherwise, you know."
"Ha, ha," Roxas said sardonically. "Let me just tell you then, since there's no point in keeping it to myself."
Ventus waved a hand for him to proceed. "Go ahead."
"Well, what I want to know is," Roxas began, staring at his brother imploringly, "when I'm…gone, how are you going to, you know, take care of yourself? You spent way too much time caring for me that I'm seriously concerned. And I know you're an intern at that police agency, but what if you don't make the cut? You'll have to find another job."
"Don't worry about me," Ventus said. "It's yourself you should be concerned about. And if I don't make the cut, well then—I guess I could always try again. I'll have to wait for it all to play out before I know for sure."
"I see…"
"Any…particular reason you asked?" Ventus inquired with raised eyebrows. "If you have anything else to say, then you should just tell me right now, since I need to leave soon."
"Okay, then; I'll just tell you straight up." Roxas sat up a little straighter. "I only wanted to tell you one thing. So you don't—you know—since it's a dangerous job and all that—anyway, it's a piece of advice. Just in case you're stuck in a bind."
"Um, oh." Ventus hadn't been expecting anything like this, but he just went along with it. "Sure. Let's hear it."
"Okay. Just remember that things aren't always what they appear to be. And don't read into them too much trying to see the truth. You'll be too focused that you won't see the big picture. Sometimes the answer is right in front of you."
"The answer? To what?"
Roxas smiled vaguely. "I know you, Ven. You'll figure it out soon enough."
Ventus crossed his arms, a little miffed. "What kind of advice is it when the advisee doesn't understand it?"
"I don't need to be completely straight with you on this one," Roxas said firmly. "You'll figure it out. I'm sure of it. Just bear it in mind, okay?"
Ventus sighed irritably. "Fine," he grumbled. He unfolded his arms and stood, checking his cell phone. "It's time for me to head off. I'll see you later today. Watch yourself, got it?"
Roxas gave him a tiny salute and a grin. "Yes sir. I'll say the same thing to you."
"Right," Ventus chuckled. "See you later."
Ventus sighed wistfully. That had been the last day he had spoken with his brother. The following evening Roxas's doctor had called him personally that Roxas had died at 8:49 p.m. due to unforeseen complications with a cancerous tumor that had been scheduled to be removed the following day. He also said that he had a final message from Roxas to him.
Don't lose sight of what's there.
It had been three years since he had died, and Ventus still had no clue exactly what his late brother had meant. It irked him considerably.
"I really must've let you down, haven't I?" Ventus spoke aloud as he stared at the bronze plaque. "It's been three years already and I still have no fucking clue. Why couldn't you have been straight with me the first time? Why couldn't you have delivered that message yourself?"
If only Roxas could see him right about now. He'd be in a fit of laughter. It's not that complicated, Ven! he would chide. Just look at the face of it and you'll see!
Maybe Roxas had been right. Maybe he did look into things way too much. But, he thought, it wasn't a bad thing to be doing. If he hadn't looked closely at issues and so forth he wouldn't understand what was going on, right? Maybe Roxas had just said those things with double meanings. Whatever the case, he still didn't know.
Ventus knew that wisdom came with age—at least, that was how it usually worked. But it had been different with Roxas. He had only been twenty-two years old when he gave him that advice. Maybe you didn't have to live very long but you had to experience many things to become more aware of the world. Ventus freely admitted that he was nothing like Roxas when it came to wisdom. He was smart, yes, but not in the philosophical way his brother had been. But what with a whole life stretched out before him, he would eventually truly understand what his brother told him.
The only thing he didn't anticipate, however, was that it would all come to him so soon.
"You're going to work today? Seriously?"
"Yeah. I might as well spend my last day there."
"Last day? You were serious about that?"
"You thought I was joking about it?"
It was a cool Saturday morning, and Ventus had been right outside his car in order to drive to work when he'd received a call from Sora asking him what he was up to that day. Seeing that there was no point in hiding it, he told him that he was going to headquarters today as a farewell gesture. Sora, of course, met that revelation with undisguised shock.
"I—I thought that you already quit!" Sora was exclaiming.
"Well, I decided to let this whole thing have another chance, you know. Like you said, 'today just might be it'," Ventus replied amiably.
Sora paused, and then he spoke slowly, "You…don't seem like yourself. Did something happen yesterday, or what?"
Ventus didn't elaborate, however. "Yeah, I guess you can say something like that" was all he would tell him.
He had a good feeling about today, but he also had a funny feeling that it wouldn't end well, either. Ventus shoved these feelings aside as he got into his car and revved the engine.
"So, you seeing her again today?" Ventus asked him as he backed out of the garage. Not that he particularly cared; he just wanted to make conversation on the way.
"N-not today," Sora replied on the other end dejectedly. "Uh, something happened yesterday and…well, I don't think I'm going to be seeing her for a while."
"Did you two have a fight?" Ventus was on the road now, so he was only half-listening.
"No, it's nothing like that; it's just—" Sora started to say something, but then he stopped himself and just said stiffly, "Never mind."
"Suit yourself," Ventus said absently. There was something off in his tone, but he didn't pay it much attention, since he assumed that having troubles with a lady friend was no easy thing to deal with. He did notice that Sora had stopped speaking, so he was about to ask if he was still there when something black the size of a soccer ball rammed into his windshield.
Ventus completely lost his train of thought.
He yelled once in bewildered shock, and nearly froze because of it, but he managed to gather his wits in time to recapture the steering wheel and pull over to the nearest curb without hitting anything else. He released his stiff hold on the wheel and slumped in his seat, breathing hard. Then he lifted his head in order to observe the unidentified missile. When he realized what it was, he uttered a foul oath.
"Oh, fuck my life," he cursed.
It was a raven.
Its neck was broken, and it was clear to Ventus that the animal was dead. The feathers crumpled against the windshield like a feather duster that had lost a fight with a baseball bat. Its blank, glassy eyes seemed to be boring right into him.
Everything had happened so quickly that Ventus didn't realize that pedestrians and traffic cops alike were gathering around with their mouths agape, staring at the dead bird on his Lexus for a full minute. This would make the paper tomorrow morning, Ventus thought sourly: Agent Reed Gets Curbed by Stray Corvid.
He'd also forgotten that Sora was still on the other end of the line.
"Ven! Ven, what happened?!" Sora demanded urgently through Ventus's Bluetooth earpiece.
"Oh—hey, Sora," Ventus mumbled, still breathing heavily in shock. "Guess you were still there—ah, hell—"
"Forget that, man!" Sora insisted. He still sounded panicky. "What the hell just happened? I heard a whole lot of noise that I don't think should've been heard on the streets! I heard you scream, too!"
"Well," Ventus began with a failed attempt at humor, "I think that PETA is going to sue me for this, that's for sure."
"That's the lamest joke I ever heard," Sora said impatiently. "Cut the crap and tell me what really happened!"
Ventus sighed in defeat. "Okay, fine. A raven hit my windshield," he revealed wearily. "Happy now?"
He could almost see Sora pausing on the other end blinking in disbelief. It was after a fuzzy five-second silence that he finally heard his skeptical voice say, "No, seriously. Stop joking around."
"I told you; a raven hit my windshield. You of all people should know that I suck at jokes."
"Holy shit," Sora breathed on the other end. "I thought you were kidding. A raven really hit your windshield?"
"Christ, man, how many times do I need to reiterate myself?" Ventus moaned, irritated. "Yes, Sora. A raven really hit my windshield. If you need solid proof, then I can send you a picture of it right now. You want that?"
"Alright, alright!" his friend said hastily. "I get it; you're telling me the truth."
Ventus sighed as he watched garbage men pulled the bird off the glass. The one holding the dead animal gave him the "all-clear" signal through the tinted dividers.
"Hey, listen, I'd better go now," Ventus said. "I don't want to actually kill myself by hitting something else."
"That's probably a good idea. Watch yourself from now on, man; or things will seriously get ugly. I'll talk to you later."
Sora hung up and Ventus slipped his phone into his pants pocket before pulling away and continuing his drive. The entire trip he couldn't help but feel anxious that something terrible was about to happen.
"Agent Reed, you've got a client on the phone," his substitute secretary for that day informed him.
"All right, I'll take it. Any specifics?"
"She wouldn't say. She just requested to speak with you specifically. I've got a bad feeling about this call. Take it as soon as you can."
She?
Ventus headed out to the main office and picked up the receiver off the desk. "Hello, this is Reed."
"Ven?"
Ventus was surprised. "Naminé? It was you?"
Naminé Sanders was Kairi's thin, blonde, and slightly younger third cousin. Frankly, he couldn't see how the two of them were related at all. They were complete opposites. Ventus had known her for several years now, but it hadn't been until last year that he found out she was blood relatives with Kairi. She incidentally was the only member of that immediate family that he actually didn't mind very much, since she wasn't loud and obnoxious like her cousin was. It stunned him greatly to receive a case call from her.
"Yes," Naminé answered fervently. "Thank God you're there, Ven. I was hoping you would be."
"What's wrong?"
"Well, I wondered if you'd seen Kai anywhere recently. Have you?"
Ventus blinked, not sure if he heard that correctly. "Are you asking if I've seen Kairi?"
"Yes, I am. Well?"
"Not since yesterday afternoon. Shouldn't you be asking Sora about this? She's his girlfriend, so he's better suited to tell than me." Ventus did find this odd. Why would Naminé ask him for Kairi's whereabouts when she clearly knew that Ventus despised her?
"I have. He told me that he doesn't know where she is. He said that like he was upset at her over something, and he wouldn't tell me more, so I thought I'd ask you." Naminé's voice turned worried. "But you have no idea either…what am I going to do?"
"Why are you so worried? It's not exactly true that Kairi spends more time at home than a petrel from land. Which is to say, she's hardly ever there. Isn't it normal?"
Naminé and Kairi lived together in a middle-class apartment, but Ventus knew that it was only because Kairi had nowhere else to go after her parents gave her the axe. Naminé was the only one who was willing to take her in, which was just as well since she was probably the only person known to mankind that could tolerate her.
"That's what I thought at first," Naminé said nervously. "I thought she just took a stint like she always does, but she's been gone for over three days now. I'm worried about what she's doing with herself while she's out."
"Three days…?" That didn't seem possible. He'd just seen her yesterday, and it had appeared that she and Sora had plans, too…
"I normally see her at least once a day," Naminé went on. "But when she didn't show up three days in a row I couldn't take it anymore and called Sora to ask about her, but he wasn't saying anything. Apparently she's not with him." Her voice choked up on the other end. "I'm getting scared, Ven; what if something bad happened to her? I just didn't know what to do anymore, so I called you."
"Don't worry so much; I'm sure she'll turn up eventually from wherever she is." Ventus didn't believe himself even as he said this.
"Ven, under the current circumstances you're my only hope right now. Do you think you'll be able to find her?"
"If it makes you feel better, then I'll look into it. Is that fine with you?"
"Yes," Naminé breathed in relief. "Thanks, Ven, you really took a load off my shoulders. I know it causes some inconveniences to you, so I appreciate that you're taking the time to help."
Ventus didn't mention to her that he was hardly ever actually busy anymore. "No problem. I'll put it at the top of my to-do list," he assured her.
"Thank you," Naminé said once again. "I'll be praying that you'll find her soon."
When at last Naminé had ended the call, Ventus felt something heavy pressing down in his chest as the fear inside him grew stronger. The Kairi he knew would not just disappear without announcement. The pressure in his chest grew heavier as the dreaded word came to him.
Kidnapped.
Someone had taken her.
He thanked God above and below for not giving him the answer before the call ended. Naminé would've gotten a panic attack and Ventus did not want a repeat of six years ago.
He thought back quickly to the events of yesterday: Kairi had gone somewhere with Sora almost immediately after she'd arrived. She'd seemed in an unnecessary rush to go somewhere, and she hadn't let Sora tell Ventus where. And earlier that day, on the way to work, Sora had sounded rather upset about something that had happened with Kairi the day they had left together, and the stiff way he had dismissed the subject…
Could these two events somehow be connected? Into Kairi's sudden disappearance?
He wasn't positive. But something told him that he should look into this theory before he discarded it.
Ventus flipped out his cell phone and dialed Sora's number. For the first time in a long while he would be embarking on a case that wasn't remotely boring.
Ventus now half-wished that he'd never taken Naminé's case and let Kairi stay lost. Then he wouldn't have had to watch as his friend completely broke down after hearing the news.
He knew that Sora was going to be upset that his girlfriend vanished off the face of the earth, but he hadn't perceived that the magnitude of said grief would be so great. Sora had been completely devastated to hear that Kairi was gone, not being aware of the fact that she hadn't been seen at home for three days prior.
"I just don't get it," Sora kept saying over and over. "There shouldn't be anyone who would want to take her."
Ventus couldn't argue with that notion. That fact confused him as well. Though Kairi had made her fair share of enemies over the years, Ventus doubted that any of them had resented her enough to actually go so far as abducting her.
She could have run off on her own somewhere, he told himself, all the while knowing that he was just grasping at straws. For the life in him he couldn't think of any reason for Kairi to have vanished—and she had nowhere to go.
"Okay, Sora, hear me out. If you want me to find her then you'll need to be a man and give me your full cooperation," Ventus told him in a low voice full of reproach. "You need to tell me everything. Tell me what she did, three days ago to yesterday, what she was doing when you last laid eyes on her, where you guys went yesterday. You have to tell me where she was over the course of the past three days, everything she said to you, where you think she is now. If you leave anything out then it could mean the difference between finding her and never seeing her again. No, look at me—look at me, Sora!" he ordered, for Sora had looked down. "It's only going to be a hopeless endeavor if we let it so you're going to help me in any way possible to track down the kidnapper. Are you following?"
Sora looked up at him, a torn expression on his face. "Ven, I—I can't—"
"Listen, do you want to see her again or not? You could make all the difference."
Sora didn't answer him, biting his lip nervously.
Ventus sighed heavily, and then said in an even voice, "C'mon, I know you want to help. Just say the word; don't make this more complicated than it already is."
"Rrgh…all right, fine!" he caved in, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'll help. Just don't expect too much, okay? I've got my limits." He looked flustered at the end.
Ventus raised his eyebrows knowingly.
Sora sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're such an ass."
"I try."
"Ha, you crack me up. So anyway," he began, sitting back and folding his hands with a wary expression, "where do you want me to start?"
"Okay, first, I need you to think back a little," Ven began immediately. "You told me that you didn't know that she hadn't been home for three days before yesterday. So you must've seen her at least once during those times, right?"
"Yeah."
"When was the last time you saw her before those three days?"
"Um…" Sora frowned, deep in thought. "Last…Friday, I think."
"That's when you have your kendo lessons," Ventus noted.
"Yeah, that's right. She came by right in the middle of it, actually, and she wouldn't leave until the lesson was over. She needed me to help her with a few things, and I couldn't really weasel myself out of it. So I went along with her."
"What few things did she need your help with? What did the two of you do?"
Sora shrugged. "Not much, really. We just talked over the phone several times because she needed my help seeing someone; she couldn't arrange the meeting by herself. So I helped her with that, and afterward…" Sora chuckled, clearly amused by some errant thought. "Sorry, my mind went off track. Anyway, after I helped her arrange the meeting, the rest of the day went by like normal. I didn't see her again until yesterday."
"And speaking of yesterday," Ventus continued his queries, "where did you two go?"
Sora hesitated for a moment before saying, "Uh…we went down to Paul's."
"Paul's? You mean that old rundown pub at the end of Armistice?"
"Yeah, that's the one. I really didn't want to go there; you know the stuff that goes on there, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do. So Kairi wanted you to take her there? Why couldn't she have gone herself?"
"That's what I asked her when she wanted me to come. I asked her, 'Why do I have to go with you?' and I wondered why the hell she would want to go to a place like Paul's. All she would say was, 'I need you there for backup.' And the look on her face didn't exactly make me eager to argue with her. So I had to go with her.
"Next thing I know she disappears into the place like a fucking ghost for like half an hour. I tried to go in to find her, but I couldn't get in—the place was more crowded than the Target's parking lot on Black Friday. She did come back out ten minutes after that, but she didn't look so good. I wanted to take her back to the city, but she wouldn't listen to me as usual and just told me to leave her there. I swear I think she was on something that day because she told me that she was going to leave the city."
"Leave the city?" Ventus repeated, confused. "Where did that come from?"
"Hell if I know," Sora answered him heavily. "I tried to tell her that she was crazy to even consider leaving since she had nowhere to go, but she went all ballistic on me. She told me that she already had someone who would take her. I couldn't do a thing; and since she wouldn't listen to a word I said at that point anyway, I just did as she asked."
Ventus frowned. "She just said that out of the blue? That's odd. Did you see anyone with her as you left?"
"Uhh…" Sora crossed his arms and made a face. "No. I didn't see anyone. She did start running in the opposite direction once she saw that I was leaving, though."
"Hmm…" Ventus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's weird. It's not like her. Do you think maybe some hooker got her and—"
Sora straightened abruptly and retorted, "Whoa, man. You just did not go there!"
Ventus held up his hands. "Hey, I'm only thinking of possibilities. When you're a detective, your mind needs to be open to anything and everything."
"That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard."
"You know that I don't swing that way, Sora."
"I could be wrong," Sora said fiercely.
"Just drop the subject, alright? We need to get back to what we were talking about," Ventus insisted. "If I sounded like an ass, I'm sorry. No offense intended."
Sora didn't reply.
"Anyway, so you left Kairi there because she told you that she already had a ride out. Do you know who she was talking about?"
"No idea," Sora replied coldly. "I never saw him."
"And you didn't know about this…acquaintance of hers before?"
"No."
"Maybe that's the person who took her. Baited her with honeyed lies and lured her in. It's happened plenty of times before."
Sora momentarily forgot to look upset. He stared at Ventus with wide eyes. "You're saying that the person meant to give her a ride out was actually the kidnapper? But how does that even work?"
"In most cases of abduction and homicide and the like, nearly three-fourths of the victims claim to have known their assailant from before," Ventus explained. "So it is definitely possible that the person that Kairi knew could have been the one behind the reason for her disappearance."
"If that's true, then…" Sora's eyes knitted together, musing. "Where are you going to even start looking? I mean, it's not going to be easy tracking down everyone that she knew personally."
Ventus straightened his overcoat and stood up. "That's why I'm going to start with the people on hand."
Ventus would have liked to say that the interrogations went well. Truth was; he wished that he'd taken a different approach. This route was taking him from nowhere to nowhere.
Three more days had passed since Kairi had disappeared, so he'd tried to hasten things up by asking her parents, the people he knew had been close to her at one point. At other points, he needed Sora's advice. Needless to say, that tactic failed dramatically.
"So that girl's gotten herself kidnapped, has she?" her mother had said. "Hmph. I'm surprised that boy insists on staying with her. Maybe that'll teach her that life isn't all fun and games. I'm ashamed that such a thing is related to me by blood."
Ventus had felt sympathy for Kairi despite himself. Her parents apparently hadn't kept track of her since she'd been given the boot so they had no information on her whereabouts—nor were they particularly anxious to receive them.
Today, he was asking Riku Stone, the pale, silver-haired childhood friend of Sora's. But like the others, he didn't seem to be getting anywhere with him.
"I told you; I haven't seen her for over two years," Riku was saying. "She refused to make any contact with me after we split up. I don't know about you, but she's just immature. I mean, she should get over our break-up at some point, shouldn't she?"
Ventus sighed. "Yeah, sure, but that's not the issue here, Riku. I just asked if you've seen her lately; you didn't need to give me a history lesson on your relationship with her."
"Ah, sorry about that."
"But this does sound like something she'd fuss over. Who did you dump her for, exactly?"
"Why do you need to know that?"
"Every piece of information is crucial, Riku," Ventus said firmly. "This is no time to be teasing."
"Okay, okay. Yeesh, Mister Stiff." Riku straightened up. "It was for a girl named Xion. Xion Hotaru. Much less temperamental than Kairi, and an awesome athlete."
"Oh, that girl that always goes off skydiving or zip-lining. Is that all?"
"Yeah, about." Riku started to look bored. "Look, I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have an appointment to keep. Are you done?"
When Riku had left, Ventus buried his face in his hands wearily. Three days and still no luck. This case was the first that had completely stumped him, and he didn't like it one bit. Such an act meant that it was purposefully left like this in order to present a challenge, by someone who was not happy with his numerous successes. It was getting to the point where he'd wanted to call Sora up and ask a few questions several times, but Sora had left for a family reunion party down in Key West just yesterday and wouldn't be back until Thursday. He wasn't about to interrupt the occasion with a call on information of his missing girlfriend.
Ventus sighed as he dropped his hands onto his work desk. He'd rarely felt so frustrated in his life. Things had been so fruitless he was ready to give up.
"Reed?"
Ventus looked up.
"Oh," he said dully. "It's you, McMillan."
Aqua McMillan was his personal secretary who handled any messages and call-ins whenever Ventus wasn't available, which was a taxing job. So many people wanted his help with petty little things, like looking for a missing wallet or finding a lost cat, and it amazed him at all that Aqua could handle it at all. Since she was so level-headed, Ventus looked to her as his personal free-of-charge therapist. She always managed to reassure him somehow, so he was grateful for her appearance.
She was a rather thin woman, not very tall, but her face made her appear more mature than she actually was. She had sharp blue eyes and a relaxed expression almost everywhere she went, in nearly every situation.
Aqua walked over to her desk holding a stack of envelopes and telegrams. She set them down and started arranging them accordingly. She spoke as she opened a particularly thick manila envelope.
"So no luck today, either?" she asked him.
"No dice," Ventus grumbled, flicking a wad of paper off his desk a little harder than he needed to. "You'd think that after three days you'll get some clues that actually make sense."
"Don't worry, Reed," Aqua told him soothingly as she leafed through a pile of paper. "I'm sure you'll find your answer sooner or later. This didn't stop you before, right?"
Ventus leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs as he stared up at the tiled ceiling. "Wish I was that confident."
Aqua pursed her lips as she set a stack of paper aside. "Maybe…you weren't going about this case the right way."
Ventus glanced at her. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying the same thing that your brother would be if he were here right now." Aqua eyed him sympathetically. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"
Ventus started to protest, but then he groaned and rested his head in his hands again. "Yeah," he mumbled.
She was right. It did sound like something Roxas would say to him in this situation. But still, what good would it do? As usual, he had no idea what his late brother had meant by anything he told him. How was he supposed to look at this situation?
Sometimes the answer is right in front of you.
Then it hit him.
"Of course," Ventus muttered to himself. "That's it!"
Aqua looked at him quizzically, but he ignored it as he stood up abruptly and grabbed his keys.
"McMillan, I'm going to head downtown. Tell Fair and Heath to meet me at Paul's in ten minutes," he instructed her urgently as he pulled on his coat and headed out. "I'm going to find me some witnesses and I'll need those two to get the most out of it."
Aqua smiled. "You can count on it."
Ventus practically flat-out ran outside the building and leaped into his car. He gunned the engine and sped downtown as quickly as the roads would allow.
He almost made it, too.
The cars couldn't seem to get out of the way in time. The sirens wailed through the streets as Ventus sped through but it wasn't quick enough for him. The call he was exchanging with his secretary lessened the tedium to a degree.
"McMillan, there's been a change in plans and I need you to contact those two and give them an update," Ventus ordered her as he weaved through traffic. "Tell the two of them to change course and head over to Noria Train Station! And tell our forensic team to get ready!"
"I'm on it. Did you find some witnesses?"
"No, but I'm getting a feeling that it might be related somehow to our case. And don't forget to tell the two that they should bring cameras. Find all the backups you can and send them here, and contact Stillwell if he's available. There's something going on and I don't like it one bit. Especially considering the circumstances."
"All right; I'll ask questions later," Aqua said briskly. She then hung up.
Ventus tossed his phone into the cup holder up front and stepped on the gas, continuing to scatter the cars on the street with his siren.
"God, please tell me I'm wrong," Ventus muttered under his breath. "Please tell me I'm wrong."
As he neared the station he noticed that a crowd had gathered around the entrance and were milling around the yellow tape as closely as it would allow. Ventus had to honk his horn four times to get their attention. After that he stepped out of his car holding a megaphone.
"This area is off-limits until further notice! Please clear off immediately!" he ordered into the megaphone. With much grumbling and curious stares, the crowd slowly dispersed.
Just then the backups that Ventus had called for showed up, their tires screeching against the asphalt. From the minivan emerged two black-clad figures accompanied by a team of four who immediately began taping off the station area.
The two figures greeted Ventus easily.
"Hey there, Agent," a black-haired young man said. "What's crackin'?"
Ventus faced him and smiled despite himself. "Good to see you on the scene, Zack. And you, too, Axel," he added to the redheaded youth paces behind.
"Wouldn't have missed it for the world, Agent," Axel answered, a twinkle in his eye.
Zack Fair and Axel Heath were fairly recent additions to his team. Zack, otherwise known to his friends and acquaintances as Zack, was a fit man of twenty-seven with sleek black hair and deep blue eyes. He was always in a good mood and only dropped the air of his laidback attitude when the situation called for it.
Axel was a thin man of twenty-eight, with his fiery red hair grown out behind his shoulders framing his sharp sea-green eyes. He was also the smoothest talker Ventus had ever met, which served him well on countless interrogations.
Despite being neophytes to the crew, these two men were very competent in their posts and took their job seriously, which Ventus found gratifying.
"Well, all pleasantries aside, who's the victim here?" Ventus asked them as they briskly strode off to the taped-off area and slipped inside.
"I'm not too keen on the details myself, Agent, but from the sound of the reports it seems like it was a female," Zack replied, releasing the yellow tape behind him. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that this is the start of a crime spree."
"Crime spree?" Ventus noted with shock. "How many reports have you been getting?"
"Tough to count," Axel said. "It's been one after the next for the past three days. They weren't anything too major, but you'd think after twelve crime reports we would've found the culprit. Whoever it is, they're doing a good job of staying low. Anyway, I expect that Central Headquarters has been like a chess game, hasn't it?"
"Are you implying something with that statement?" Ventus asked as he narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, of course not, Agent Reed; I'm just messing with you."
"Right. Next time, just be a little more—" Ventus cut himself short when he finally laid eyes on what he had come to see, and he felt his face scrunch up in disgust and horror. "Oh—oh, God…"
"Aw, man." Zack covered his mouth in a bid not to gag. "That's disgusting."
"Looks like it's been here a couple days, doesn't it?" Axel added as he grimaced unpleasantly.
Just as Zack had heard, the mangled cadaver before them was definitely that of a woman. She was dressed in casual running gear, yellow T-shirt with a red wristband and white sweats and leg warmers, which were all covered in some measure of blood. There were plain white Reeboks sneakers on her feet, also with blots of blackened blood. She could've easily passed off as asleep save for the fact that her body was deathly white and the bruises on her skin stood out like coal in a snowfield. The smell of the corpse was so atrocious that Ventus considered in a wonder that people didn't notice it earlier.
But it wasn't for any of those reasons for which Ventus had blanched just as white as the dead woman.
"Oh, God, no…it's her…damn it, why did it have to be her?"
Zack looked at him questioningly for a moment before grasping Ventus's reaction. "Hey, uh, Agent…" he muttered, his eyes wide. "Don't tell me that you actually…recognize her."
Axel, too, looked nonplussed, and paid rapt attention to Ventus's next words.
Ventus covered his face with his hands and brushed from hairline to chin as if to wipe his sudden deductions away. He dropped his hands and they fell to his sides, his expression one of torment in denial.
Axel began to get genuinely concerned. "Reed…?" he prompted cautiously.
Ventus spoke at last, but when he did his voice was disturbingly hollow. "Yeah…yeah, I do. I…recognize her from before."
He again looked over the body of the young maiden and examined her shallow face and shoulder-length black hair resignedly.
He was looking at the body of Xion Hotaru.
Subtlety had never been Ventus's strong point.
He surprised Riku the next day by stopping by his place unannounced. Riku was less than happy to receive him.
"Why are you here?" he demanded. "I told you; I don't know anything about Kairi!"
"That's not why I'm here," Ventus said abruptly. "It's about your girlfriend. She's dead."
For a moment the only noise was the sound of the television coming from somewhere in Riku's house.
"This…this is a joke, right?" Riku said at last. He sounded as if the wind had been knocked out of him ten times over. His pale silver hair seemed to turn gray.
"I'll let you know just as soon as I start joking around about the rotting cadavers of dead girls," Ventus said coldly. "Do I seem like the type of person who would do that?"
Riku's face told Ventus all too well that he still didn't believe him. "But—but that's impossible," he protested. "You must've got the wrong girl. It can't be her—"
Ventus thrust the pictures of Xion's dead body that the recovery team had taken the day she was discovered under Riku's nose, fed up with his denial.
"You think that I can't recognize a dead girl?" Ventus hissed. "How did that thought even cross your mind?"
Riku's hands shook as he stared blankly at the pictures. His expression was one of undiluted horror. At this Ventus shot down the silent theory that had been reciting itself over and over in his head that Riku was the killer. He could easily tell that he would not have even considered it.
"Wh-when did you find her?" Riku asked him desperately.
"Yesterday afternoon. According to our forensic team, however, the body had been there at least four to five days."
A horrified expression crossed Riku's face as he heard this—a revelation had come to him. "So that's why she hadn't—oh, God, what the hell was I thinking—I deserve to be completely screwed over—why did my mind even go there—"
"Whoa, whoa; hold it," Ventus interjected. "What are you talking about?"
"Xion, she—she hadn't been answering her phone or replying to my texts at all—and I thought for a second that maybe I did something to piss her off," Riku rambled feverishly. "I was going to see her and ask her straight-up why she was ignoring me, but—dear God, I didn't imagine for a second that she'd—for this whole time, she'd been—"
"Dead," Ventus finished. His eyebrows furrowed. Riku definitely wasn't his man. Only someone mentally unstable could imitate such an act without meaning a breath of it.
"I'm sorry to upset you, Riku," he said carefully, "but I gotta ask you a few questions."
Riku practically pulled Ventus into his apartment at these words. "Anything. I'll tell you anything." He had a savage look in his aquamarine eyes. "Whatever I can to help you catch the half-assed bastard that murdered my girl."
"Okay then." He refused to look startled by this sudden gesture. "Let's talk in the kitchen."
The two men made their way to the small dining room where a wooden table for two was arranged in the center, where they sat down promptly. Ventus then began his interrogation without pause.
"So, do you remember how Xion was acting the last time you saw her?" Ventus prompted him.
"She didn't do anything particularly out of the ordinary," Riku answered.
"What was she doing?"
"Well the last time I saw her was last Thursday. She was getting ready to go out somewhere after getting a phone call."
Last Thursday. Ventus made a mental note to consider that with the rest of the clues. "From who?"
"I have no idea; she didn't tell me," Riku admitted. "She seemed pretty upset though, so I didn't pry. All I knew was that someone had called her to make an appointment to meet her that night."
"So you don't know who she conversed with," Ventus confirmed. "And that was the last night you heard from her?"
"Yeah."
"Hmm…so it's still unclear…" Ventus mused to himself.
Riku didn't say anything.
"Do you have any guesses for who it might've been?"
"Yeah," Riku said bitterly. "The only problem is that she's gone missing."
We've got a full-blown conspiracy going on here, Ventus thought to himself. He had good reason to think so.
Xion Hotaru, Riku's girlfriend, was dead and had presumably been so for nearly five days. Riku thought that Kairi Cress, his ex-girlfriend currently dating his best friend Sora, was guilty. But Kairi herself had been missing for four days now.
Ventus still saw the possibilities, however—since Xion had been dead for five days, it was possible that Kairi could have been the one that killed her and disappeared to avoid the searching eyes of the police. But that still didn't explain how exactly Kairi could have accomplished something like that—Xion was one of the most athletic girls that Ventus had ever had the fortune to meet, and he just couldn't see scrawny Kairi trying to subdue her. Maybe she had an accomplice to help her. Maybe it was the very same 'acquaintance' that Sora had mentioned. Or maybe Kairi wasn't even the guilty one. His head hurt.
That's when it hit him. Sora! He was probably home by now. He could possibly go see him and ask for more insights. He groaned inwardly, knowing that he really was desperate if he was looking forward to going to ask Sora to ask for advice. He reached for his cell, but right as his picked it up the phone rang. He checked the caller ID.
He answered the call. "Hello, this is Reed."
"Ven! Thank God you're there." Speak of the devil, Sora had called him at the right time once again. He did sound a tad haggard, though, and Ventus wondered what the problem was. Maybe he had had some trouble with one if his relatives back in Key West.
"Hey, Sora. Welcome back."
"Did you find her?" Sora asked urgently. He sounded almost crazy. "Or at least find a new lead?" He completely ignored Ventus's greeting, and Ventus tried to not get too annoyed at the fact that Sora was still concerned with that irritating, possibly murderous skank.
"No I didn't, on either end. I think there's more going on besides her going missing."
"What?!" Sora was astounded. "What do you mean?"
Ventus then proceeded to explain what had happened in New York since the day Sora had been down South. Sora was nothing short of floored.
"So Riku's girlfriend is dead and he thinks Kairi did it?" he repeated in disbelief. "But Kairi's—oh, man; things must be hell over there at headquarters. Have you been working overtime?"
"Just about," he sighed, running his right hand through his hair. "It's been a wild goose chase. All these clues are leading us from nowhere to nowhere. Not only that, we don't have any new leads. Kairi is the only possible suspect, since I know Riku wouldn't kill his girlfriend, but she's not here for us to interrogate and I don't think she would cooperate, regardless. There's something going that's more than just a single murder, and I don't like it. Either Kairi really was the killer, or she was abducted by that killer, and that's really stretching it." He sighed irritably. "None of it makes sense."
"Well, did you try and go to the scenes of the crimes?" Sora suggested. "You could find some clues that way. You can go to that pub and get some answers. It's where she was last, so maybe you can figure something out."
"Nice idea, except that we already tried that. No dice. Nothing we heard from the witnesses matches what we've got, they refused to cooperate, or they didn't even know what we were talking about. I'm seriously at my breaking point with this case."
There was silence on the other end. Ventus was about to ask if he was still there when Sora spoke again.
"Listen, I might have an idea," he began, and Ventus listened carefully. "But I have to tell you in person."
"In person? Why? Can't you just tell me now? No one's listening in or anything, if that's what you're worried about."
"Please, man," Sora pleaded, "it's important. I need to talk to you privately. Do you think you can come by right now?"
Ventus was about to reply when Aqua stuck her head into the room with a disgruntled expression.
"Oh…I'm sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?" she asked uneasily.
"Uh, hold on." Ventus faced her and covered his receiver. "I'll be with you in a minute. Is it urgent, or can it wait?"
"I'd have to say it's urgent, or else Agent Fair wouldn't be sounding so grim over the phone."
"All right, I'll be right with you." Ventus turned his attention back to Sora. "Sorry to cut the conversation short, but I need to run and take an urgent call. We'll talk later, okay?"
Sora sounded frantic. "But Ven—"
"I'm really sorry," Ventus repeated, "but this can't wait." He hung up without waiting for an answer and looked back at Aqua. "What's the call?"
"Agent Fair has some news for you. He wants to speak with you immediately." Aqua handed Ventus her cell as she spoke. "Whatever he wants to speak to you about, it can't be good news."
Anticipating the worst, Ventus took the call. "This is Reed."
"Agent, I've got some bad news," he heard Zack inform him darkly on the other end.
"I had a feeling. What've you got?"
"We found another body," Zack answered. There was a lot of background noise on Zack's end, like he was standing next to a freeway. Ventus could barely hear him. "It's another woman. We're already on the scene to recover it."
"Another body?!" Ventus was flabbergasted. "In four days? What the hell's going on? Christ, are we dealing with a lunatic or a bipolar psychopath? I won't be surprised if it turns out to be both!"
"Just hold that thought, Agent. Not sure who it could've been, but it's bad. And your kidnap theory is half-right."
"What?"
"That Kairi Cress girl" —Ventus's stomach did a little flip— "she wasn't just kidnapped. She's been murdered, too."
Ventus sincerely hoped that Zack had made a mistake identifying the body. Of course he was wrong.
"We've done the tests over and over, Agent Reed. The results are always the same," Axel had told him. "It's definitely the body of Kairi Cress."
He couldn't wrap the situation around his mind at all. It was like trying to tie a broken stick back on to a broken branch by the end with a thread—the idea just wouldn't stick. Both Riku and Sora's girlfriends were dead in the same week. The only thing he couldn't call it was a coincidence because it was anything but—they were unquestionably connected with each other. The only question was how.
Now he was going to have to break it to Naminé that her third cousin was dead. He really didn't want to be the one delivering the news to her, but there was no one else who could—or would.
Naminé hadn't gone into hysterics, but it was a close thing. It just seemed to Ventus that she was too stunned to really absorb what he was telling her. He had promised over and over that he would definitely catch the killer who took her cousin's life, but he hadn't really believed himself. He'd hit dead ends everywhere, and he didn't know where else to look.
Now he was meeting with Axel in his office discussing the discovery of Kairi's body. Apparently she'd been found at the entrance to the 426 Highway which led out of Redbrook, wrapped in a black trash bag.
"So what were the deductions from the autopsy?" Ventus was asking.
"From what they know, they said that the girl had only been dead for just a little over twenty-four hours," Axel informed him. "Her injuries are similar to that Hotaru woman's—she's got bruises and cracked bones in a few places." Axel slid a small stack of photos across Ventus's desk. "They said that the bones breaking happened most likely after time of death."
Ventus listened in silence as he examined the photographs one by one. The first photograph showed Kairi's body in full view, before it had been moved. The next showed her face and neck up close, the latter of which were riddled with unsightly blotches of black and blue. The third showed her exposed back, unmistakable bullet holes in three places—two in the small of her back and one in the ribcage. Ventus thought that there wasn't something quite right about these wounds, but he couldn't place it.
"So it's not these gunshots that killed her?" Ventus asked for confirmation.
"It's hard to say," Axel sighed, clearly distressed. "The problem is that they weren't actual bullets so it's almost impossible to say that these wounds are the result of her death."
"What?"
"Check the next photo."
Ventus did so, and it revealed what appeared to be three small white balls covered in blood and gore. It was near impossible to notice at first, but he finally realized what had been bugging him since he laid eyes on the bullet wounds.
"Airsoft pellets," Ventus murmured.
"Exactly. Officially they're not counted as official ammunition, so there's no record of them. Even the forensic team says that these shots most likely occurred after she died," Axel said. "Not only that, but since these can be used in any airsoft gun or even a BB gun, we can't track down any specific model. And I don't think these bullets are the culprit in any case. They're not usually fatal."
"Always a step ahead, huh?" Ventus muttered under his breath. "Smart criminal."
"Now's not the time to be complimenting a homicidal maniac, Reed. We need to look at the big picture. What we're looking for might be right under our noses and we wouldn't even know it. It's like looking at a leaking bottle and not knowing how the water is getting out from the bottom."
Ventus did a mental double take. It was the same thing Roxas had told him as a final message, and here Axel was unconsciously repeating it.
Don't lose sight of what's there.
"Yeah…you're right."
"Try to go over what we've gathered this past week. Maybe it'll help get us on a different track."
Ventus tried. He tried to remember everything little detail from last Friday on—his visit to Sora's house…Sora finding a BB gun under his bed while they cleaned…Kairi arriving in a bad mood and wanting to head over to some unknown destination as quickly as possible…the absurdly long amount of time it took for Sora to get ready to head out…the raven hitting his windshield on the way to work…his disjointed conversation with Sora like he'd been afraid that he'd said too much…discovering that Kairi went missing…finding Xion's body three days later…and discovering that she'd been there for nearly five days…
Ventus shook his head once and thought hard. He went to speak with Riku about the death of his girlfriend the following day…and he learned that Riku was convinced that Kairi was the guilty one…Sora's visit to Key West since Monday…how he'd ignored Ventus's greeting completely, only concerned about his progress on the case…how he'd wanted to speak with Ventus in private…
Right then it hit him like that raven on the windshield of his Lexus last Saturday. Everything made sense. It was all clear to him now.
And he didn't like what he saw. Not one bit.
Without warning, he stood and strode out of his office, ignoring Axel's protests. He wove in and out of the people in the building without heeding their complaints and questions. He didn't even notice the tall man about to enter the building as he brushed past him roughly. He flat-out sprinted to his car, leapt in, gunned the engine, and sped away.
Ventus knew he was being overly hasty in rushing into such a dangerous situation, but at the moment, it didn't matter to him how reckless he was acting. He wanted to kick himself for being blind for so long to something that had been right in front of him this whole time. Not only that, but he also felt guilty for not really taking time to think about what his twin brother had meant. He felt that he was sufficiently paying for it by acting on his own and throwing himself into an encounter that could end with him being dead.
"Goddamn it, I was an idiot," he growled to himself fiercely as he wove through traffic. "I've been a fucking idiot!"
As he continued to speed like a racer on a racecourse, a memory entered unbidden into his mind.
July 31st, 2005. The first birthday the brothers had spent together since Roxas had been diagnosed with lung cancer. Almost certainly it would have been more enjoyable had Roxas still been healthy, but they weren't about to waste that momentous day moping about what could've been. They had wanted a full blown-out party, but owing to the fact that Roxas had returned from his third hospital stay only recently, they decided against it in the end. They had to cancel the party, and so had to let their friends know individually and to tell them to pass on the message quickly. They were disappointed of course—it wouldn't have been normal if they hadn't been—but a good number of them had sent them their gifts that day anyway, wishing them well.
Roxas had handled the situation rather well. In fact, he seemed the only one glad that the event had been cancelled. Ventus, being a detective in training, of course hadn't missed that fact.
"You seem pretty okay with this," Ventus noticed with narrowed eyes. "It's because you don't have to see Sora, isn't it?"
Roxas became incredibly flustered at this observation. "No—no it's not—"
"Oh, drop it, Roxas." Ventus sighed. "I already know that you hate Sora. I'm just confused as to why you do. He never did anything to you, did he?"
"He dropped a stink bomb on you after graduation!"
"And why are you the one getting mad about that? You weren't even the one who got stink-bombed."
"I know that! But he didn't even apologize!" Roxas argued heatedly. "It's been nearly over a year and he still didn't even bother to say he was sorry! Not only that, there's just something not right about him. He's always disappeared randomly without warning ever since junior year and never explaining to anyone where he goes off to. I really don't know why you still hang out with him anymore. Seriously. Sora Reyes? He's got absolutely no tact, and…well, he's just weird!"
"And here I thought I was the blunt one," Ventus said irritably. "You could be a little more polite, you know. I know he acts like an ass sometimes…okay, okay, most of the time," he amended, noticing Roxas's glare. "But he doesn't have anyone else. I'm only trying to help him."
"Well, I don't think you should be doing that so directly," Roxas retorted. "You could tell him to go to a therapist or something. Isn't that the normal thing to do? Besides, it's been almost three years since you knew him but he hasn't changed at all! I know that you of all people can see that."
Ventus winced; that hit a nerve. He couldn't deny that Sora was odd – outright eccentric, even – but he didn't really want to accept that he'd been like that for the entire time he knew him.
"Sora's bad news, Ven; I'll tell you that right now," Roxas went on angrily. 'I can almost guarantee that you'll eventually regret staying with that jerk someday, and when that day comes you're going to wish that you'd listened to what I told you!"
Curse him, Ventus thought angrily, though he wasn't really sure who he was mad at. Curse him beyond the seventh circle of Hades!
At last he reached his destination. Ventus swiftly exited his car, slamming the door shut and running toward the apartment complex in the same motion. Too impatient to use the elevator, Ventus flew into the building and sprinted up the stairway, not even noticing how much his lungs were burning.
Even when he reached the correct floor Ventus wouldn't slow his pace. He continued to sprint through the corridors until he reached the right apartment, and he slammed over the door without bothering to knock and froze in that position, breathing heavily. The occupant barely glanced up.
"Oh, hey," Sora said indifferently. "It's about time you got here. I was getting afraid that you weren't going to show up."
He was lounging on his moldy couch watching a boring sitcom, but he didn't seem to be paying much attention to it. Ventus couldn't stand to look at him. His chest heaved in both exhaustion and rage.
"You…" Ventus hissed as he exhaled. Sora looked up carelessly. "You've got some nerve…after everything you've done…"
"Oh, I see. It seems you finally figured it out. About time, too." Sora flipped the switch on the remote and the screen went blank. "You were taking so long that I started worrying that you weren't going to catch on."
Ventus couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you saying that you set all that up intentionally?" he asked incredulously. "All so that I could catch you?! Basically you've been waiting for me to find out you're guilty?!"
"Well, duh." Sora rolled his eyes. "Don't you find it a tad strange that all this started on your supposed 'last day'?" He made the "quote-unquote" gesture as he said this. "I just thought that since you were so bored, as a friend I should fix that for you."
"Are…are you out of your fucking mind?!" Ventus spluttered. "What the hell were you thinking?! That's not—I didn't ask—do you even know what happens to people charged with second-degree murder?!"
"Would it change the fact that I did it if I acted like I didn't know?"
Despite how angry he was, Ventus was pulled up short by that statement. He glared at Sora suspiciously. What was he trying to say?
"Okay, first of all, you're partly wrong," Sora said, standing with a hand in his right pocket. His maddeningly casual demeanor made Ventus want to strike him across the face. "One of those murders wasn't my doing. You're smart, aren't you? Use that big brain of yours and figure out who really did it."
Ventus's brain began working despite himself. For a moment he was mystified, but then he gasped as it dawned on him.
"No way," he breathed in denial.
"Yeah," Sora said. "That's right."
"But—but how—?"
Sora let out a high, cold laugh that sent a jolt down Ventus's spine. "I'm not an idiot. What do you take me for? Seriously, I couldn't have cared less about that Xion girl. I didn't even know who she was until Kairi started bitching about how she stole Riku from her. She pissed me off enough that I told her I'd help get rid of her if she'd just shut up about it afterward. So I had her call up Xion and arrange a 'talk' on Friday so they could 'settle their differences'. To be honest here, I really didn't think it would work, since Xion didn't strike me as the thick type. Either Kairi was more persuasive than I thought, or I gave Xion way too much credit. Whatever the case, she agreed to meet her. She just didn't expect the both of us to meet her there, so she was taken off guard. It was easy to kill her then. I let Kairi do the honors since she'd been the one who'd been asking for this to happen.
"And you know; that's not even the whole story. I'm sure you've been getting calls reporting crime sprees, haven't you? That was all us—the both of us. I was trying to lead you off-course and to see if you wanted to take the bait. Kairi didn't know what the hell I was doing, but I saw no point in explaining anything to her."
"You're a fucking monster," Ventus spat at him.
"Oh, all of a sudden I'm the monster?" Sora sneered. "Aren't you a little fucked up yourself, accusing me like that outright? Why are you giving me the death glare when Kairi was the one that killed Riku's girl, not me?"
"That's not the issue here!" Ventus shouted. Every nerve in his body was shot. "You helped her! You indirectly killed an innocent woman who had nothing to do with you! And you're saying that you're okay with this?!" Ventus balled his fists in an effort to keep from reaching for his pistol. "If you aren't the most fucked-up son of a bitch I've ever had the misfortune to meet, then I don't know what is! You've mocked me this entire time, put on that innocent face and look like you're at the mercy of a tyrannical whore, and go and beat a blameless stranger to death right under my nose just to satisfy Kairi's thirst of revenge! You had no right to kill her! No one did!"
His words had no effect on the ever-so-calm brunette.
"Yeah, she didn't do anything to me. Wasn't my problem though," he said, offhand.
"Are you even listening to yourself?"
"Why, yes I am, Ven. I've got no problem with my hearing; thanks for your touching concern."
"You're sick!"
"And what are you going to do about that?"
At the last minute, Ventus stopped himself from launching into another rambling tirade. Sora was doing this on purpose, he realized. He wanted to make Ventus lose his composure…but he wasn't about to give Sora the satisfaction of success. If he wasn't going to get anywhere this way, he decided to take another approach.
"Kairi." Ventus uttered this name like he was actually calling out to her. "Why'd you kill Kairi? What did she do to deserve that?"
For the first time in the conversation, Sora's casual expression faltered. "That…I actually didn't want to do. But she was seriously asking for it. She nearly blew everything."
"What are you talking about?"
"She still wouldn't keep her mouth shut. Except this time it was about how she was feeling so guilty about everything. She was the one who killed his girlfriend. I'd never even considered it, since she was the one who wanted her gone. But she'd heard from somewhere that Riku suspected her of killing Xion, and she kept complaining that even though his girlfriend was gone he still hated her. She almost up and went and told Naminé about the whole thing because she was seriously losing her composure. But of course, I couldn't have that, since it would mean that you'd figure out right then and there that I was somehow involved. And I didn't want to make the case too easy for you. I wanted to give you a fair challenge. So I went to see her on Tuesday and" —Sora pretended to cut his throat with an imaginary knife— "just ended it."
Ventus gasped aloud when he realized what Sora was telling him. "You…you never had a family reunion. You fed me the fabricated truths on purpose to see whether I'd realize I was going the wrong way or not. I was talking to people who had nothing to do with either of the murders. You led me in the wrong direction on purpose…you've played me for a fool." Ventus couldn't fight off the wave of helplessness and incredulity that overcame him. Both murders had occurred right under his nose, and he hadn't realized it until it was too late.
Sora mocked applause. "Congratulations, you've figured it out. Guess you're not the youngest person to become the chief detective of New York in nearly a century for nothing." He smirked in a superior way. "Yep, there never was a family reunion. I only took that time off to get rid of Kairi and the evidence best as I could.
"But see, the thing is, I had a Plan B just in case I delved in a little too far. And as it turns out I gave you too many hints, and I knew you'd be on my trail sooner than later. So, I tried to get you to come here so I could rid myself of the East Coast's best detective, but I didn't expect you to hang up on me, sappy as you were. I guess this is the first time Plan B failed before Plan A.
"Besides, shouldn't you be happy for me instead? You told me that Kairi was ruining my life, so I got rid of her, just like you asked."
Ventus couldn't speak. He couldn't believe it. He'd inadvertently caused one of the murders. And that call he'd received earlier that day from him, saying that they had to talk in person about a private matter…he saw now that it was just a ploy to get him here in order to kill him. He didn't know whether to thank Aqua or Zack for unknowingly saving his life.
"Listen here, you bastard," Ventus said through gritted teeth. "When I told you to get rid of her, I meant dump her! I meant let her go! It didn't mean bludgeon her to death with a shinai and then shoot her with a BB gun for sick pleasure! What kind of a twisted…" Ventus couldn't think of a bad enough word. "Who would do that?! That's…that's just demented!"
Whatever pretenses Sora may have held, they were dropped as soon as those words left Ventus's lips. He glared at Ventus with pure hate.
"Twisted, am I?" Sora snarled. "Demented, am I? Then that's fine with me! It makes no distinction between the two us, between anyone! All you people are sick! All you care about is yourselves and the façade that you keep in public! You wouldn't so much as help an old man that got hit by a car in the side of the street just because he's a stranger! How does that make you any better than I am? It doesn't make me look any worse than anyone else! I took two people to their maker, so what? You're letting way more innocent lives than the ones I took get lost because you're too worried about yourselves! If any lives matter to you, it's your own and people that you love! Not the homeless beggar in an alley, not the geek being beat up by gangs, not the soldier that is fighting overseas for a hopeless cause! That's why you're so pissed off about this, isn't it? It's because you knew those girls! You wouldn't be acting this way if a random stranger got murdered instead! Don't deny it; it's the fucking truth and you know it!"
Everything in Ventus wanted to write off this rant. But it couldn't be helped; the idea had firmly lodged into his brain and had no intention of leaving. Sora was right. He knew that people were selfish and two-faced, they were shallow. It couldn't be any other way, though. They were only human, and they weren't perfect—not by a long shot. Caring for oneself was an instinct.
But.
Despite all that people had the ability to put aside their differences when the need arose. People cared about each other, if only subconsciously, since humans were designed to be social beings. That was the reason they'd come this far. People were able to do good things at their own expense.
"Yeah…you're right," Ventus said at last, prompting Sora to eye him suspiciously. "I'll give you that. What you've just said now is all true. But I do want to ask, is it just an excuse for your actions? Or are you really trying to convey a subtle message?"
These questions did not seem to register with the blue-eyed male. "What did you just say?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Do I need to repeat myself?" Ventus asked with an air of surprise. "I thought you said that your hearing was perfectly fine. Or was that another lie?"
"Are you trying to—?"
"No, I'm not," Ventus cut in. "I don't roll that way. If I'm not completely stupid – and I have good reason to believe that– I'd say that you're the one that's behind all the mindfuck, no? So you shouldn't be saying anything."
"What are you—?"
"And I'm not, either. You're just hearing things that aren't there." Ventus tried to focus. "All right, I've played your game, and you lost. So you're coming with me. We've dawdled long enough as it is."
Just for an instant, Sora was stunned. Then suddenly he burst out laughing. The sound was absolutely bone-chilling and unsettling. It was hysterical, maniacal—the laugh of one who had lost their grip on reality. Ventus couldn't stand hearing it and he desperately wanted to claw at his ears and block out the sound. But he wasn't about to show any sign of weakness in front of him.
"Did you seriously believe that I'd go with you quietly?" Sora cried in a mix of crazed ecstasy. "Did you expect me to kowtow to you and get sent to jail and end all the fun just like that?" Sora laughed again. "You're a fool; you're a fool like all the others! There's no way you're taking me. I need to keep going or else I'll lose everything! I won't let it happen! So just to be nice, I'll end it quickly for you!"
With these words, Sora pulled his hand out of his pocket at last—revealing a small, sawed-off 9 mm handgun tight in his grip. With no hint of hesitation, he raised the weapon and aimed it directly at Ventus's chest.
Ventus spoke in a steady voice as he slowly raised his hands. "Put the gun down, Sora."
Sora didn't even flinch.
"I know you don't want to do this, Sora. Drop the gun. Please."
"Shut the hell up," Sora hissed. "You don't know what I'm thinking." The gun was still aimed pointedly at Ventus's heart.
"I know I don't," he replied. "I'm only saying that because that's what I see on your face."
Sora's fingers tensed on the trigger.
"C'mon, Sora—"
"Shut up!" Sora repeated harshly, his voice tremoring. "You don't know anything. You've got no fucking idea. You don't know what I'm thinking. You don't know what I'm feeling! Don't play with my emotions, you bastard!"
"I'm not. Please, Sora—just—just listen for a minute." Ventus kept his hands raised, keeping them away from his pistol. "I'm not pretending to understand. Really, I'm not. But I want to tell you this right now—I don't want another homicide weighing on your conscience. Put the gun down. Please."
"Don't play me for an idiot." Sora still wouldn't move a muscle. "I know what you're trying to do, and I'm more than capable of stopping you. Don't even try it."
"If that's the case, then I'll prove you wrong." Ventus lowered his left arm slowly so that Sora wouldn't get alarmed and shoot before he wanted him to. His fingers found the cold touch of metal, and he carefully eased the firearm out of its hold. Without taking his eyes off of Sora, he opened the barrel and emptied the bullets onto the weathered carpet. Then he put the gun down at his feet, and then kicked it a good distance away so he couldn't reach for it, and raised his hands above his head once more. Now he was completely vulnerable to this mentally unstable man with a loaded handgun.
Sora looked from the scattered bullets, the empty pistol, and Ventus with a look of shocked disbelief on his face.
"You have got to be kidding me," Sora said with anger and suspicion plain in his tone. He was staring at Ventus with shrewd eyes, trying to discern his thoughts. Ventus kept his face carefully blank.
"Now I don't have any way to defend myself. If you shoot me now, then I won't retaliate. Before you do, though, I suggest that you think about what you're doing. And know that killing me won't get you anywhere."
Ventus lowered his hands. His azure eyes didn't leave Sora's icy blue ones, which for the first time in the encounter flashed with hesitation.
But it was only for an instant. Sora's trigger arm jerked, and there was a loud pop. Ventus dropped to the floor like a sack of bricks, gripping his left shoulder and hissing in agony.
He'd been shot.
The last thing Ventus saw before the world clouded out before him was a thicket of legs suddenly scrambling into the apartment and hiding Sora from view. His surroundings became a foggy blur.
His pain hadn't gone just yet. His shoulder was still filled with a stabbing sensation. He couldn't see, and he couldn't hear.
Until: "Well. How did you get here?"
That exceedingly familiar voice jolted him. He opened his eyes but all he could see was an expanse of grayish white. He couldn't see who had spoken, but he didn't need to see to know. That voice was ingrained into his being, even after three years.
"Roxas…" Ventus realized he could talk. "That's you…isn't it?"
"Nice of you to remember me, Ven. It's been, what, three years, hasn't it?" Roxas's voice was whimsical.
Ventus raised himself up and looked around again, but he was still alone. "Where are you? I—I can't see you."
"Ah, you don't need to worry about that." Roxas's voice seemed to be getting clearer, or was that his imagination?
"…Right. Where am I, anyway? Am I—aren't I supposed to be —"
"Dead?" Roxas finished for him. There was a hint of laughter in his voice. "What, do you want to be dead?"
"Hey, I didn't say that. It's just that—I didn't think I would be—"
"Alive," his brother cut in once more. "Yeah, I'd be surprised, too. But then again, the world is full of surprises, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but—"
"Oh, stop being so technical," Roxas complained. "You've barely changed the past three years." Was his voice getting louder, or was it coming closer?
"Says you. Even when you're dead you don't give me a break," Ventus retorted icily. "So, what, is this all happening in my head? Or is this real? And why am I not dead?"
"Very interesting questions, Ven, all solid questions. Tell you the truth, though, I don't know the answers," Roxas said lightly.
"You're pretty cheerful about all this, aren't you?"
"Well, why wouldn't I be? He's given me the chance to finally speak with my brother after all these years." This time the voice sounded physical, and it was coming from right next to Ventus. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see his brother standing there on his left, beaming at the sight of him.
Roxas looked much healthier than he had ever been in life. His eyes were clear and bright, his hair shone, his skin was practically glowing with health—it was almost as if he was a different person altogether. He was wearing a plain white collared shirt and plain blue jeans, and his feet were bare. Roxas didn't look as if he'd died of cancer at all.
"Hey, Ven," Roxas greeted him, his arms open wide beckoningly. "It's been a long time."
Even before Ventus himself realized what his brother wanted he was already moving toward him, and they immediately caught each other up in a tight embrace. Roxas's arms were warm and strong, and Ventus's throat convulsed at the touch, realizing right then exactly how much he had missed his younger twin. Once they locked into the hug, Ventus held on as if he would never let go. But to his dismay, Roxas brought his hands to Ventus's shoulders and pulled away. Ventus couldn't understand the expression on his face —he was looking apprehensive and conflicted.
"Roxas…hey, what's the problem?" Ventus asked, concerned.
"Look, I…we can't stay here for long," Roxas confessed quietly. "He's only permitted me to stay until…I've delivered a message. Before it's too late."
"What are you talking about?" He couldn't understand what his brother was telling him. Who was "he", anyway?
"I'm talking about our time here. If we stay here too long, you might end up dead, too."
"That's sounding really good right about now. I seriously can't take life anymore."
"Don't think like that," Roxas told him sharply. "Even if you don't want to live, you've got no choice, and neither do I. It's not your time yet. Of all the people in the world, you should know. And it's only for your own good."
Ventus felt increasingly frustrated. He wanted to yell at Roxas, declare that he didn't care it wasn't his time yet, and he didn't want to accept the fact that he wasn't allowed to die. Even as these thoughts welled up within his being (non-being? It was hard to tell.), he knew that his brother was right. Nothing ever lasted forever. He jerked his head away from Roxas, his fists clenched.
"Fine," he said at last, making an effort to keep his voice steady. "What is it exactly that you need to tell me?"
Roxas sighed. "Well, it's actually two things…I was wrong. And there are more obstacles for you ahead that only you can face."
"Stop talking in riddles," Ventus said abruptly. "Say it in a way that I can understand so my brain won't explode. You said we don't have much time here. So be concise."
Roxas was clearly put off by Ventus's suddenly cold attitude. "O-okay, fine. I'll get to the point." He took a deep breath. "I was wrong about Sora. Let's start with that."
Ventus whirled back around to face his brother in utter disbelief. "What are you talking about?" he demanded incredulously. "You weren't wrong! It turned out exactly the way you told me! Sora is nothing but a bastardized psychotic murderer!"
"That's where I was wrong," Roxas said heavily. "Sora himself isn't a bad person. He's being misled."
"He's being—wait, what are you talking about?"
"You're right about one thing, Ven—Sora did kill those two girls, but it wasn't of his free will. He was forced."
"Forced?" Ventus couldn't comprehend the concept; it was so foreign. "By who? And how?"
"I…I'm not in the liberty to tell you that. And therein is my second message. Like I already mentioned, Sora was forced to murder those two girls by a higher power. He's only their pawn, their bird in an inescapable cage. Someone else is manipulating him, and most likely a score of others, too."
"B-but how—how's that possible?" Ventus spluttered. "It makes no sense!"
"I don't claim to know anything about it, Ven. I'm only the messenger."
"But still…you knew!"
Roxas looked at his older brother curiously. "Knew what?"
"You knew that something like this was going to happen, didn't you? You tried to warn me by giving me that advice at the last minute. But I was too arrogant to listen to you, and after all these years I never understood what you meant. And now look. My friend is a murderer. And he shot me. Maybe I could thank him for that, though. After all, I did get to see you."
Roxas looked surprised, but then his face smoothed out into a small smile. "Well…maybe. I couldn't say that I actually knew, but I just had a really bad feeling. And as for that last-minute advice…" He gestured to Ventus. "You did understand. You just didn't realize it until the right time."
"I'm not so sure."
Roxas chuckled, and then looked upward with a saddened expression. "Ven…I need to go back. So do you. Our time here together is up. This is where we part."
"J-just a minute, Roxas," Ventus said desperately. "Before you go, I want to ask you one thing."
Roxas looked to him expectantly. "What is it?"
"Um, well…will I ever see you again?"
At these words, Roxas only smiled and held out a hand to shake. Ventus stared at it in surprise for a moment before taking it, and they held that position for some timeless seconds.
"Of course," he assured him. "If you need me, I'm always here. You know that."
Ventus, reassured, nodded and returned the smile. "I do now."
Roxas clapped a hand onto Ventus's shoulder. Only then did Ventus realize that it no longer pained him.
"See you soon, big bro," Roxas said. "You've got people to talk to."
Ventus began to become aware of a cacophony of noise around him—voices shouting, footsteps thundering, objects getting knocked over. There was a voice shouting in his ears, but he couldn't make out the owner of the voice, or even what the voice was saying.
He was also starting to feel the activity ensuing. His face was scratching against the carpet, the floor shook with the overwhelming number of footsteps, and someone was trying to shake him and wake him up. The voice was starting to get clearer and Ventus could begin to make out what was being said.
"Reed! Reed, can you hear me?!" a familiar voice cried frantically. "C'mon, Reed; say something!"
The sharp pain in his shoulder awakened him to reality completely as he gasped in pain and shock. His eyes snapped open so suddenly, he had a sudden sense of vertigo as he took in the colors and malformed shaped all around him. It was brief, but it made Ventus want to hurl.
"Zack…" Ventus managed to say with difficulty. "What are you doing here…?"
Once Zack saw that Ventus was still alive, his concern transformed into rage. "What the hell were you thinking?!" he demanded. "Did you come here on your own only to disarm yourself in front of a murderer?! Explain yourself, Reed!"
Ventus didn't answer him. He could barely find the energy to even keep his eyes open—much less formulate a satisfactory answer.
Only one thing kept him from slipping back into unconsciousness, and that was the scuffle that seemed to be taking place right above him. A voice, louder than the rest, began shouting above him, and Ventus recognized it even through the fog in his brain.
"No! Get your hands off me! Get the hell away from me, you bastard!" Sora was screaming hysterically at the top of his lungs, completely snapped. "You're not supposed to be here! You're not real! Don't touch me; get away! Get your fucking hands off me!"
Then an unfamiliar voice sounded above him, strong and firm. "Put that down, Sora; I'm not having you kill yourself! I am real; I'm right here! I'm really here, Sora! Calm down and drop the gun!"
"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Sora bellowed like a madman. "You can't be here; you're dead! You're supposed to be dead, damn it! Let me go; let me GO!" There was more thrashing.
"Urgh—he just won't calm down—Zack, get Ventus out of here! He needs to see medical attention, right now! I'll handle this! No arguments!" that same voice called out.
"Roger that!" Zack hoisted Ventus up and supported him by the chest, as Ventus's shoulder was still searing in agony. "C'mon, Reed—we need someone to look at your shoulder—lean on me if you have to, come on—careful, now—"
Ventus used his good arm to brace himself on Zack, and let go once strength returned to his legs. It had been more due to the shock than his shoulder wound that he couldn't stand. He stumbled a little at first, and when Zack tried to rush to his aid Ventus waved him away with a feeble flicking motion of his left hand.
"Don't worry," he muttered. "I can…walk on my own. My legs still…work just fine."
"I still say you were crazy," Zack said in a voice that was a mix of fury and relief as they left the apartment together, passing by more police officers. Some paused to stare at Ventus, but he didn't heed them.
"Oh, crazy, am I…I do wonder what makes you think so…"
"Seriously, how can you crack jokes at a time like this? You're lucky Axel decided that it would be a good idea to follow you or else you'd be dead now! That maniac could've killed you! If there's anything more dangerous than a dude with a gun aimed at your chest, then it's a mentally unstable dude with a gun aimed at your chest! You have no idea how badly I wanted to march in and whack you over the head when I saw you disarm yourself right in front of him! At that moment, I couldn't tell who was more out of his mind!"
Ventus grunted as they approached the elevator and Zack punched the down arrow. "You saw all that?"
"Didn't I make it clear when I told you that we tailed you?" Zack said swiftly. "We only held back since it looked like you could handle the situation. We just didn't count on you disarming yourself like a complete fool!"
The elevator doors opened and they entered, Zack jabbing the ground floor button. They were silent for the duration of the ride, Ventus and Zack both wrapped up in their own thoughts.
Ventus winced a little as the elevator gently coasted to a stop, and laughed humorlessly as they stepped out. "Well, looks like the famous Ventus Reed is famous no more."
"Are you kidding? Your fame isn't lost, not by a long shot."
"Is that right…?" Ventus grinned amusedly, not particularly caring. "Well, what d'you know."
"If anything, this is only going to make the front page of the local newspaper and make you even more famous," Zack said dryly, as if he didn't feel as if Ventus deserved it. "'Reed Narrowly Escapes Death From A Psychopathic Serial Killer.' Or something along those lines, anyway." They reached Ventus's car and Zack opened the passenger door. "Here, I'll help you in. Hand me the keys; I'll drive."
Ventus gave him an annoyed look.
Zack suddenly flushed with embarrassment. "Right…sorry about that. Where're the keys?"
Ventus nodded toward his right side. "My right pocket."
Zack located the keys with no trouble and fished them out. Then he said, "All righty then. Let's go."
Since Ventus was still clutching his left shoulder, Zack gave him a hand getting into the car. Once he was seated and belted, Zack closed the passenger door and went around to the driver's side. He got in, started the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot and into the street, weaving through traffic like mad.
"Aargh!" Ventus growled after a particularly sharp turn. "Damn it all, Zack; could you drive a little slower? You'll kill my arm before we even see the hospital!"
"Whoop, sorry Reed!" Zack called from the front. "But that shoulder can't wait!"
Ventus gave him a glare that would've sent members of MS13 running for their mothers, so Zack reduced the speed of the car. On the upside, Ventus's shoulder stopped releasing pangs of protest, though it still ached immensely. Having a hole punched through his flesh point-blank by a sawed-off handgun was much more painful than he'd originally assumed.
At last a medical center came into view. A team of doctors and nurses were gathered near the emergency drop-off zone. Zack had called them in advance on the drive here.
As they approached the hospital, Ventus spoke.
"Hey, Zack…I've got a question."
"Hm?"
"Who was that guy—the one holding off—th-the killer?" Ventus couldn't bring himself to say Sora's name.
"In pure honesty, I'm not all that sure myself. We just sort of brought him along with us from the station. He was at the door right as you left. You must've been in too much a hurry to notice—he was the guy you brushed past while you were on your way to the car."
Ventus did vaguely remember hurrying past someone as he left—he just hadn't given it much thought. "So you just up and brought him with you on a snap decision to follow me?"
"Not exactly," Zack answered him, confusion creeping into his tone. "He…asked if he could come with us. We were skeptical at the beginning, of course—we wouldn't just pick up a random stranger while we were heading to the hideout of a criminal—but he said that he needed to go and see 'him', whoever it was. Just seemed to know that Sora character—the one you were friends with."
"Mmh." Ventus's curiosity piqued at these words, though he didn't divulge them. "Interesting guy."
"I'll say," Zack remarked in agreement as they pulled over on the curb. "He sure knew how to handle himself back there. It was almost like he'd dealt with stuff like that before. Also, he said that he wanted to speak with you on some important matters after you've been taken care of, so he'll have answers for any questions you might have."
That wasn't the reason Ventus had deemed the mysterious man as interesting. The man did seem to know Sora from before, and Ventus could tell that there was some significant history between the two of them judging from their earlier exchange. What could have happened to make Sora believe that a man clearly alive and well was dead?
The next several hours were a blur to Ventus, and he couldn't remember what had happened in that time interval. All he knew was that he was in the infirmary now, his shoulder still aching. The pain had reduced somewhat, but he kept from testing the limits of his strength with his shoulder for the moment. His shoulder was heavily bandaged, and he'd been informed by the doctor right when they arrived that the bullet needed to be removed. He supposed that the hours that had blazed by without him noticing had been spent in the surgery room.
He also received frequent visitors. Nearly half the police force of Redbrook came by all at once to see him as soon as the surgery was done and he was awake, but they didn't get to spend too much time with him since the doctors limited the visitor quota to three at a time, ten minutes each. He absently accepted their well-wishes and condolences without really paying attention to what he was doing. He wouldn't have taken them into account at all if it hadn't been for that stranger conversing with the surgeon that had been in charge of removing the bullet. He was still drowsy from the anesthetics (so it was easy to feign his sleep if he wanted to), but he still managed to catch bits of the conversation.
By that time all visitors were barred from his room, but the surgeon apparently had something important to say to the stranger since he was the only one present in the room.
"Will his shoulder be all right?" the stranger was asking.
"Yes, and he's very lucky to retain use of his arm at all," the doctor replied. "A millimeter lower and he would have needed an amputation."
"Pretty close call."
"Yes, but this is our young prodigy Reed. He wouldn't go down so easily."
The stranger laughed. "Of course."
Ventus kept his eyes closed, not pretending to sleep anymore and wishing that his heart would stop beating right there. He certainly didn't feel lucky or like a prodigy in the slightest. His friend had gone off the deep end. Two innocent women were dead. He was in the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound. Now he half-wished that he were dead right about now so he wouldn't have to feel the shame engulfing him. What did it matter to him that he was alive? It couldn't even begin to compare to all the things he'd experienced while on this case. He felt so wretched and detached inside. Not even the ache in his bad shoulder could act as atonement for the entire week. None of this would've happened if he hadn't been so arrogant and full of hubris, wanting a person to suffer a misfortune—hurt, kidnapped, violated, or murdered—just so he could be relieved of his boredom. He was disgusted with himself.
That wasn't even his biggest qualm.
Ventus was still troubled by what he'd seen and heard when he'd fallen unconscious after getting shot. His brother coming to him by consent of "him" and then only to deliver a crucial message…he couldn't get his mind off of it, even with the anesthesia in his brain. He was still in doubt of the true nature of that vision. He couldn't validate whether it had been real or not. Had it really been his long-gone twin, conveying a true warning of what was going on around him, or had it all just been a hallucination borne from his subconscious wish for Sora to not have been truly behind the killings?
Then there was the message itself—which, to say the least, unsettled him greatly.
Sora was forced to murder those two girls by a higher power, Roxas had said. He's only their pawn, their bird in an inescapable cage. Someone else is manipulating him, and most likely a score of others, too.
Sora was being used? By who? How? And for how long? Why use him? And why kill those two girls? Who would want so many others, all those nameless, faceless, and innocent people, to be wiped from the face of the planet to never be remembered again? Could there be a new conspiracy afoot, emerging from the depths of the shadows of the world? Was Sora only a tool, a stepping stone to an enigma's goal that was completely obscured by the inert ignorance of human beings? What else could it be?
If what he saw had been real, then he could draw one conclusion: Sora's cover-up story was just that, a cover-up.
"Please! Let me in; you've got to let me see him!"
Ventus was jerked back to reality by that familiar female voice. He opened his eyes despite himself, but luckily the doctor and the strange man was facing the door now, their backs turned to him.
A young female voice, a different one, was pleading, "Please, ma'am, Mr. Reed needs his rest. All visitors are barred from seeing him today."
"No, you don't understand! I need to talk to him! Let me in, please!"
A second voice, one Ventus recognized as Zack's, cut in: "Excuse me, nurse, but I'd let her in if I were you."
The doctor in the room frowned. "What on earth is going on out there…?"
"Allow me." The stranger strode to the door and opened it, revealing—
Naminé! Ventus thought. What's she doing here?
It was definitely her. The thin blonde woman was fighting to free herself from the grip of a nurse, and Zack was next to her, trying to compromise with the nurse holding Naminé back.
"Let her in."
Everyone flinched at the sound of Ventus's voice, cracked from lack of use, not expecting him to have been awake. Ventus himself was surprised that he found it in himself to speak up, but he wasn't going to take back the statement.
"Let her in," Ventus repeated, this time with more sureness injected into his tone. "She has every right. And I give her permission." He glared at the doctor and nurse. "It's important to her, can't you see that? Don't deny her the right she has to see me."
The nurse began to protest but Zack interrupted her. "Nurse, he's not someone you want to push. I suggest you do what he says."
She looked like she wanted to argue, but she pursed her lips and stalked away. Ventus looked to the doctor.
"I'm sorry, but I'd like a moment of privacy with these people," he said. "Is it permissible?"
The doctor started, and then looked from Naminé, Zack, and Ventus himself before he straightened his glasses and said, "Of course."
The doctor exited through the door, just as Naminé flew in and flung herself onto the edge of the bed, jostling him and causing his shoulder to flare up with pain, making him wince despite himself. Fortunately, Naminé didn't notice. The tall stranger stayed by the door, observing the two of them acutely, Zack standing right next to him. Under normal circumstances he would've asked him to leave, too—but this circumstance was anything but.
"Ven! Oh my God, Ven; thank God you're alive; you're okay!" She sobbed into his blanket. "I can't believe—how could I have thought—oh, Ven, I'm so sorry!" she confessed at last, tears pouring down her flushed cheeks.
Ventus couldn't understand what was ailing her. He stared down at Naminé's trembling form that was on the edge of his bed, clinging to his right arm so much like it was the most important thing in the world that it hurt.
"What are you sorry for?" he asked her. "You're not the one who shot me in the shoulder."
Naminé wasn't listening. "I should have kept better track of her!" she wailed. "Only if I'd known where she'd taken herself then she—she—and Sora—you wouldn't be—i-it's all my fault—"
"No," Ventus interrupted her firmly. "Regardless of whether you kept a better eye on Kairi or not, this would've happened sooner or later even if you hadn't called me. Sora set up the whole thing, and you know it. If you're looking for someone to blame for all this chaos, I'm the first person that should come to mind."
Naminé was shocked at hearing those words. "How can—how can you say something like that—there's no way it was your fault—"
"Listen, I'm the reason your cousin is dead, Naminé," Ventus went on, not wanting to stop because it felt better letting out all his pent up frustration and anger at himself on someone, even if it was the fragile Naminé, regardless of whether other people were listening in or not. "I wanted excitement. Something beyond the regular bouts of burglary and vandalism. It wasn't my intention for someone to deliberately carry out my desires, I swear it on my brother's grave, but I got much more than I bargained for. You know the saying, 'Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it'? Well, I was careless with my wishes, and now look—your cousin is dead. My friend is a psychopathic murderer. I'm in the hospital because I got shot by said psychopath. And now you're blaming yourself for all this happening." Ventus drew in a rattling breath and continued. "Sora told me he killed your cousin and his friend's girlfriend to alleviate my boredom. If you can find anything that can refute that as evidence that I'm the actual instigator for all this, then God forbid—I'll maroon myself on Nikumaroro."
Naminé's eyes were filled with pain. "Ven, please—"
"Agent Reed, you are not one to take the blame, either. That's destructive thinking," the stranger finally interrupted.
Ventus looked up to see him walk up to the side of his bed with a scrutinizing expression. Ventus met his gaze unflinchingly. This was the first time Ventus had decided to take the opportunity to properly observe this mysterious Samaritan that—according to Zack—kept Sora from committing suicide.
Speaking of which, he didn't even know where Sora was at the moment. Maybe he was taken to a mental institution or locked in a cage until they knew how to deal with him. It didn't matter to Ventus either way, however.
The stranger looked slightly older than Ventus himself—twenty-seven or twenty-eight, maybe. His face was slightly gaunt, like he hadn't eaten properly for about a week, but strangely familiar, too—like he'd seen this face somewhere before, but Ventus couldn't place it. He was also rather tall—easily over six feet. His eyes were sunken in and a dull golden color, and his spiky disheveled hair was jet black with faint streaks of gray, and Ventus wondered at this. His skin was also alabaster pale—it was as if his skin had never seen the light of the sun. And his outfit also struck Ventus as strange—not because of the outfit itself, but the state of it.
His grimy red turtleneck sweatshirt looked like it had been passed through a rusty sawmill before it was handed to him, and his black jeans were also torn in places. It was like the police department in Redbrook had picked up a homeless college dropout to bring to the scene.
Ventus had initially intended to ask the stranger, "Who are you?" but instead he blurted out without thinking, "How do you know my name?"
The stranger's lips twitched, like he somehow found Ventus amusing.
"The entirety of the East Coast knows your name, Agent Reed. Up and down the coast they call you 'prodigy', 'genius', or 'gifted'. Obviously I'd have heard your name somewhere along the way, wouldn't I have?"
"Well, I do beg your pardon," Ventus muttered under his breath, his face hot. "I hadn't realized that my reputation stretched quite that far, so I hope you'll excuse my ineptness on that topic." He had, of course. He just didn't want the stranger to have an excuse to demean him.
"Guess not," the stranger agreed. "I feel for you, Agent—this is the first time I've set foot out into the real world for a while. I came to see my brother for the first time in ten years, but I didn't anticipate that the reunion would turn out quite like it did. Considering the circumstances, however, it isn't totally implausible."
Ventus couldn't tell if he was joking around or not.
"Anyway, I've heard about you while I was on the road, Reed, and I was hoping to reach you and ask you a favor on the way," the stranger continued. "A phone call wouldn't do my situation justice, you see—not that I had any viable resources. I really didn't expect the situation to turn out the way it did—I had no idea you two knew each other. Sora was never the social type."
A light seemed to click on in Ventus's brain.
"Wait," he said slowly, letting the new knowledge sink in. "Sora—he's your—"
"Yes. He's my brother," the stranger supplied. "Is it really that unbelievable?"
Ventus's thoughts were so muddled he didn't know what to think. "But—you—you look nothing like him!" he spluttered, not paying attention to what he was saying. "And—he never told me he had a brother!"
"I didn't expect him to, to be frank," the stranger answered, his face suddenly hard. "You heard what he was screaming back at his apartment, right? He thought I was dead the past ten years. There was no reason for him to tell anyone."
Now that it had been said explicitly, Ventus could see the family resemblance as clearly as if they were standing side by side. The general structure of his face matched those of Sora's. Their hair had grown out the same way—though it appeared as if this stranger had grown it out a little more and hadn't washed his hair for months. They even had a similar body build—albeit the stranger was taller and somewhat more muscular (the sweatshirt was a tight fit).
Ventus was even more stymied than before, and that was saying a lot. "How is that possible? What happened between the two of you?"
"It's not something that can be explained adequately with words." The stranger looked at Naminé with an apologetic expression. "I know that your time with Agent Reed was brief, but I would prefer to…discuss some matters with him alone."
Naminé was stunned, but apparently she realized that she was in no position to argue. "All…all right." Naminé gave Ventus a light peck on the cheek before standing. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ven. And I'll make sure to give Riku the news."
With that she hurried out of the room.
The stranger looked to Zack with a contemplating expression. Zack noticed this, and he said firmly, "I'm not going anywhere. Anything Ventus is told, I deserve to know as well."
Ventus sighed. "He's got my permission to stay. I trust him more than anyone."
The stranger looked somewhat uneasy, but he didn't say a word in retaliation. "Well, I guess we can get started, then."
Ventus shook his head lightly in frustration, and asked him heatedly, "Then tell us this first: who are you? I mean—I know who you are, but—what's your name? And why did Sora think you were dead for ten years when you're clearly here and conversing with me?" Nothing made sense, and the magnitude of it made Ventus want to punch the bedside table in raw impatience.
The stranger sighed. "The name's Victor," he replied. "Victor Crowe. As to why Sora thought I was dead…well, I'm not sure where to start, but…" Victor unzipped his sweatshirt and began withdrawing his arms from the sleeves. "This is as good a place as any."
Victor let the light jacket fall to the linoleum floor and unbuttoned the short-sleeved white collared shirt that he was wearing underneath so that it hung on him loosely, and Ventus was met with a sickening sight.
Victor was covered in scars, bruises, welts, and burn marks all over his chest, abdomen, and neck. His left arm was a couple inches shorter than his right, and it didn't straighten all the way (or the right way) when Victor spread them out. Not all of his injuries were completely healed, and some were still open or a raw-red. Ventus thought he could see lash marks on his sides and arms as well, like he'd been struck by a whip. There were scars on his palms as well—from a knife, most likely. Ventus hadn't noticed before, but now that he was scouring Victor's body for more injuries he saw it—a small cut underneath the right side of his chin, the jugular. By appearances, it looked like it had been cut in the exact same place multiple times. He could also make out finger-sized bruises around his neck, like he'd been throttled.
Ventus was at a complete loss for words. Zack, who had been silent this entire conversation, was struck dumb. Neither of them knew what to say.
At last Ventus managed to muster the words, "Wh-what…what the hell happened to you?!"
"This is the reason Sora believed me dead for ten years," Victor said matter-of-factly, with no trace of self-pity. "I was kidnapped by a criminal organization calling itself C.L.O.U.D. It's an acronym, but it hardly matters what it stands for. They used my brother as a puppet among thousands to carry out their dirty work. Every time Sora even hinted at rebelling, they'd bring me out in front of him and torture me right before his eyes in order to make them comply with their wishes. Being his friend and all, you must've noticed that he'd disappear from time to time, yes? Without any explanation as to where he'd gone or what he'd been up to? Well, this was the reason—C.L.O.U.D. would call him in for another mission. The United States is the only place where he manages to keep his status at a low profile—he's been eluding the prying eyes of international law for ten years, just to keep me alive. Name a country, he's probably been there—and never for anything good.
"And all the scars you see on me right now, it's not even the half of it. There are worse injuries on my back, and underneath these jeans, as well. There are also wounds that can't be seen with the naked eye—I've been drugged, poisoned, electrocuted, and asphyxiated. I was starved, isolated, and humiliated. The only times I had contact with water was when they tried to drown me in it. They'd lock me into a glass chamber in plain sight of my brother and gas me right there, and force him to watch me choke and convulse like a dying rat, to witness my eyes rolling to the back of my head and frothing at the mouth if he ever questioned their orders. Not only that, he was forced to kill two girls, one of which was his girlfriend, and he shot his longtime friend—in other words, you. If that's not any justification to his actions and why he's lost his sanity, then may Satan himself damn me to the deepest pits of hell!" Only at the end did the pain and bitterness break into his voice.
They were thunderstruck.
"Ten years…" Ventus couldn't breathe. "All that…for ten years…how did…you shouldn't be…"
Victor made a face. "Yeah, I'm not surprised that you find it strange that I'm not bat-shit insane, or dead altogether. It's because a key in possessing a means of manipulation is to keep it around, and in good condition," he explained, his face suddenly deadpan. "I'm sure that they would've loved to kill me, honestly. But that would mean that they'd lose their only weapon against my brother—well, they did, regardless of that fact. Ergo, for that purpose—and that purpose only—they made sure to not go too far with things. Sora, of course, was never informed of that fact. He just probably thought that they were just killing me little by little until I was actually dead. They withheld that information from him on purpose, to keep him unswervingly obedient."
"Ten years…that means you were only teenagers when this all started…isn't it?" Ventus questioned, his voice faint.
Victor raised his right arm and observed a particularly red scar at the crease of his elbow. "Yes…" he whispered. "It does."
"H-hold on," Zack protested weakly. "I've got a question. You're saying that this…this criminal syndicate exists? And they're responsible for all these unsolved crimes that occur worldwide?"
"Yes, and yes," Victor confirmed.
"But…why haven't we learned about their existence earlier?"
Victor re-buttoned his shirt as he answered him. "Weren't you listening to me before? They only operate through other people that want nothing to do with them. Revealing the existence of the organization on the field to the outside world is punishable by death, so they steadfastly keep it a secret from the rest of mankind. So if it weren't for me, there's no way that you could've ever found out."
"I find that odd, too. How are you here, when you're supposed to be their prisoner? And wouldn't they kill you for that? You just told us that this organization exists."
There was a trace of disbelief still ingrained into his tone, and Ventus couldn't blame him for being so skeptical.
Ventus wondered about this as well. This idea of a criminal organization mobilizing every other criminal worldwide just…didn't seem humanly possible. If what Victor had just revealed was true, then how did he escape from them? Would the organization be looking for him even as the spoke here in this hospital room? Would they kill him on sight for giving away the secret?
"That's a completely different story," Victor answered him, his voice getting defensive. "And no, as much as they'd like to kill me at this point, the leader won't let them. They intend to recapture me so I can once again be the fuel behind Sora's actions, so they won't target my life. They'll want to target yours instead."
"What?!" Ventus yelped. "If you knew that, then why'd you tell us in the first place?! You just helped us sign our own death warrant!"
"Did you not hear me correctly, Agent? I said that they'll want to target you instead."
"That still doesn't—" Ventus began.
"Even a top-secret syndicate like C.L.O.U.D. is privy to the outside world. How else would they be able to carry out what they do? They know all about you, Agent. They're afraid of you."
"Afraid of me?" Ventus couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why would an international criminal organization be afraid of me? I'm just one person! What threat do I pose?"
"That's just it," Victor clarified. "They don't know what you're capable of, Agent. That's why they fear you. You could possibly thwart their entire system for all they know. That's why they keep themselves a secret."
"Yes, that'll so happen. I barely managed to catch one of their pawns," Ventus recalled bitterly.
"And we tread upon this path yet again, Agent. That is exactly why C.L.O.U.D. is wary of you. Sora is the best pawn they have."
Ventus stared at Victor skeptically. "You're joking."
"Am I?"
The two of them locked eyes for a minute. At last Ventus caved. "Okay, you're not," he admitted.
"Do you see how he's the best?" Victor asked. "He's an expert at keeping at a low profile. You knew him for most of your teenage life, but had no idea that he was a criminal, did you? That thought didn't even cross your mind, I'll bet."
Okay, it hadn't. But Ventus was still confused.
"You said that this C.L.O.U.D. organization uses indiscernible pawns to carry out crimes," he said.
"Yes."
"Then what I want to know is," Ventus began, and Victor raised an eyebrow, "why is it that—that you and Sora were used in particular? I mean, you don't become the best pawn of a criminal organization overnight. And why did this all start for you when you were so young?"
For the first time in the conversation, Victor's expression turned dark and ashen. "I'd rather we…avoid that subject, if you don't mind," he'd muttered quietly. He looked upset enough that neither of the detectives argued. "Listen I…I'd better get going. I need to find a place to take refuge for a while."
"Victor…just wait a moment." Ventus still had so many more questions to ask, and he knew he couldn't rest with them unanswered. Victor had picked up his sweatshirt off the floor before he paused.
"What is it?" Victor asked him, wary now.
"I've got a couple more questions to ask. Actually," Ventus amended, "more like a couple requests. Can you hear me out? If you don't want to then that's fine," he added quickly as a shadow passed over the fugitive's face. "If you don't feel comfortable talking about it, then I won't push you…"
Victor hesitated for a moment. "I'll hear you out," he decided at last.
"Okay, my request is…well, there's something important I need to speak with you about. And this'll be strictly between you and me, so you'll have to wait until –" Ventus momentarily faced Zack. "Um, when will I be leaving, Zack?"
Zack thought for a second. "Monday, Agent. This coming Monday."
Ventus returned his attention to Victor. "On Monday, then. Wait until then so we can talk."
Victor was clearly taken aback by this request. "Oh…well, uh, sure, I…I can do that."
"Speaking of which," Ventus went on. "I'm assuming that this is your first day of freedom? Meaning that you don't have a place to hide out yet, do you?"
"Actually, I escaped a couple weeks earlier…" Victor was looking flustered. "And I've had to hide out in abandoned buildings and so forth to keep from getting caught on the way here…"
"In that case, then you'll need a place to stay until I'm released," Ventus said, unperturbed. "You can stay at my condo for the time being. They won't look for you there." Ventus himself didn't understand why he was being so courteous to someone he'd met only hours ago, but he still felt that it was something he ought to do. He could also see a bit of himself in Victor as well—both their brothers had had unchangeable misfortunes. Most importantly, what Victor had said put his doubts to rest—that vision he'd seen was real. He needed to know more, but now wasn't the time.
"You…you're sure?" Victor asked blankly.
"Of course I'm sure. Don't worry; Zack here will show you the way," he assured him. "Oh, and Zack, tell the doorman that he's staying at my place until I'm released from the hospital. Wouldn't want to give the old man a heart attack."
"R-roger that, Reed," Zack stammered, obviously mystified. "Let's get going, Victor."
"Hold on," Victor said. "You didn't ask the question."
"I'll ask once I'm out," Ventus told him briskly. "It's more important that you're safe from the eyes of that organization. Go on, it's fine."
If anything, Victor looked even more confused than before. "Um…right. Okay."
"Take my keys, Zack," Ventus reminded him.
"Got 'em, Agent. No need to worry." Zack followed Victor out of the room. "Get some rest, Reed; you've earned it."
The door closed behind him, and Ventus was left alone.
"The gloves are coming off, C.L.O.U.D.," Ventus murmured to himself. "You'll pay for what you did to my best friend."
It was time to show that mystery criminal mastermind group that he could live up to his name as the top detective of the East Coast. It was time to bring down the organization of forced servitude that drove his friend to insanity.
Retirement would have to wait.
Finally finished re-editing this monster! Whew!
