"This place is so... boring." Ryuk thought. He sat atop a rusted piece of scrap as he gazed out into the Shinigami realm. He played with the lock on his belt containing his Death Note. He unlocked it, and pulled out the contents. He opened the book and read the rules he wrote 5 years earlier.
"Hyuk hyuk hyuk. What if I were to drop it in the human world?" He said aloud, but retracted his thoughts. He had thought about the possibilities of doing such, but he put them to rest after he wrote down the rules. He flew down from the scrap and wondered about. He finally found his way to the portal overlooking the human realm. The area was completely desolate, except for Koar. Koar was a sad excuse for a Shinigami, looking more like a cat than a God of Death. He constantly sat there, gazing into the human world. He had an obsession with a human girl, one he often called "innocence". Ryuk sat down next to Koar.
"What's 'Innocence' gotten herself into this time?" He asked, staring at the same part of the world Koar was looking at.
"I don't know, it seems to be one of the boys she associates herself with is trying to hurt her." Koar responded nervously. He twiddled the stick of graphite in his hand at an uneasy pace.
"Hyuk hyuk, well, don't forget you're not supposed to be in love." Ryuk said. He looked back to the small girl with glasses and two bushy pommes on her head. Ryuk stood and went to leave his nervous friend for sleep. He awoke later and walked back to the portal, only to find Koar missing. His book lay in a pile of ashes. Daintily, Ryuk picked it up. In the cover, he had written,' To Innocence'.
X
Jeric slept uneasily. It wasn't helping the fact that he was in his Math class again. His head rested against the book when his teacher called him again.
"Jeric, for the love of God, wake up." She shouted, her blonde braid bouncing violently behind her head. He groaned, lifted his head, and said,
"Sorry about that." He said. Some of his class mates laughed, but most of class was silent. This was the norm with him, and most of antics had grown stale. He was about to brace himself for a violent retort when something black caught his eye. It fell to the earth and out of his sight on the second stow of the school.
"Did you get that, Jeric? His teacher hissed. Jeric lazily returned his gaze back to her.
"What now?" He asked.
"I said this is a classroom, not your personal bedroom. If you don't like it, there's the door." She growled. Jeric stood and grabbed his bag.
"I think I might have to take you up on that offer." He said as he walked out of the classroom.
Outside was a cool September day in Charlotte, North Carolina. He was looking along the ground when his boot brushed against something solid. He stepped back and looked on the ground. The object, he saw, was a black book. On the front, "Death Note" was pressed in white letters.
"Well now, what've we here?" He questioned, bending down to pick it up. He had it in his hands when a guard ran out of the building. Jeric wasted no time in beginning to run.
Jeric ran past the tree that marked the entrance to the s and looked back to see if the guard had spotted him. He wasn't. Jeric walked through the parking lot and started walking the bus stop. After he made it of school grounds, he sat down on the bench and felt a bit safer. The book was still clutched in his hands. He opened it to the inside covered and looked for the name of the author. Instead, he found rules. He made it through the first page when he noticed a shadow cast over him.
"What're you reading?" A soft voice asked. He looked up and stared at the girl hovering above him. He didn't know her name, but he'd seen her around, most being messed with by the freshmen class.
"Uhm, nothing really." He said. The girl sat down next to him. He looked down at his watch and realized it was just before lunch.
"What're you doing out of school?" He asked her, trying to avoid a conversation about the book.
"Oh," She sounded surprised;" I'm waiting for my parents to pick me up... for a doctor's appointment." She claimed. Jeric nodded his head. She looked from the ground up to him.
"Why are you out so early?" She asked him. Jeric suddenly felt rather warm under his hooded sweater.
"Early dismissal." He lied. The girl looked skeptical, but looked away as the sound of an engine came into earshot. He was suddenly glad when an old red car pulled up to the stop. The windows were tinted, but the girl had no problem with opening the door. She waved a quick bye and got in. Jeric waited for her to drive out of sight before he pulled out the Death Note again. When he did, he became a little more cautious. It was a little after he had finished the rules and found the rest of the pages blank, his bus came.
He stepped on and paid his fare. The bus smelt of disinfectant and looked like it had been scrubbed down. Jeric looked at the clean seats and chose a spot in the back.
'What a stupid book.' He thought.
'As if someone could just erase a person by writing down the name.' He stopped thinking about the book when he noticed one of the monitors on the bus.
"... It is uncertain if the claim is true, but Kim Jung Un has declared that North Korea has built up his nuclear arsenal. He has evacuated all U.N. Personnel and is even tightening the borders leading to China. Many claim that his could be it...CNN has the report..."
The monitor faded to a middle-aged man at the DMZ. Jeric looked around to the people on the bus. None of them had taken notice to the screen. Jeric suddenly felt a pang of anger surge through him.
He looked around. He picked up conversations from housewives talking about their husbands poor performances; business men talking about cheating out clients. He felt anger and hatred towards them as he stepped out of his seat and walked off the bus.
'This isn't the first time,' He thought as he stepped off the bus. He had arrived at the inter-district train station. The apartment complex he lived in was located in Huntersville, just a few miles out of Charlotte. He walked up the stairs to the Five Guys that hung near the station.
'Christ, I can't believe that people are like this.' He thought as he ordered his food. He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. His phone began to shake furiously as messages poured into the database. He waited a few moments before he opened the thread they were connected too. He dreaded it when he saw the sender.
'Damn...' He thought as he read the texts. 3 Missed calls and 27 angry texts from his friend, Veronika. He read the first one.
'Jesus Christ Jeric, if you're going to leave me, I might as well go with Jorge!'
He re-read the thread, and put his phone away. The suddenly violent text messages reminded him that he had not seen his drugged up friend Jorge since last Friday in the outdoor shopping complex known as Halliville. To his knowledge, they were searching for him in the shopping district 'under' one of the many apartment complexes.
"Hey kid, waddya want?" Yelled the gruff voice behind the counter. Jeric looked up from his phone and ordered. He paid, and found a table. Now free of lines, he re-opened his phone and found Jorge's thread.
'Hey man, sorry about dumping Veronika on you last Friday. '
He hit send and opened up the internet browser. He checked on some news sites and read the warning on a Japanese criminal suspected in Charlotte. He stopped when he heard his number called. Taking his food from the surprisingly cute Latino chick, Jeric sat back down. He ate in relative peace, but the people on the bus earlier still bothered him.
'This isn't the first time this has happened.' He thought, referring to his sudden lose faith in Humanity.
'I'd think the people of one of the worlds foremost superpowers would at least give a sh-' His thought was cut short when he noticed a peculiar sight.
"That is one giant bird..." He muttered under his breath. A black figure with large wings ominously descended from the heavens. He looked around at the oblivious people in the restaurant and looked back. The bird was getting closer.
He moved the straw to his mouth when he felt a buzzing in his pocket. He turned his eyes away from the bird to check his phone. Jeric opened the text, and dropped his Orange Fanta. Running, he burst through the door and moved down the stairs in a flash.
'Jeric, it's Jorge's mother. I don't know how to really say this over a phone, but Jorge has passed away. Please come as soon as you can.-LOL Hanna'
There was a train scheduled for 1:15, and the next one wouldn't run until 3. Jeric checked his watch as he hit the pavement.
'Damn, 1:13, I hate time! '
He thought as he sped across the tracks. He crashed into a man with a briefcase and they both fell to the ground. Jeric got back up without missing a beat, pulled on his pack, and ran to the machine. He made it and pushed in his card. He was about to punch in the time when a hand groped his shoulder.
"What the hell is your problem, punk? Have you any idea who I am?" The business man shouted. Jeric tried to turn back to the machine, but the man pushed his back further into the cold metal.
"Look at me when I speak to you, kid. Your father must've been real swell to raise a kid like you." He growled. Jeric felt more anger move through him as he swung his left hook and connected with the man's temple. He turned around as the man fell, and he punched in the time. He grabbed the ticket as the train pulled into the station. He jumped in when he heard the man scream behind him.
"You're dead, do you hear me? You're dead" The sign was ominous, but Jeric paid no attention as he walked to a seat at the end of the compartment. The only other occupants were a sketchy looking gentleman and a young girl in her twenties. Jeric slumped down into the seat and molded with its contours.
'I can't believe he's dead...' His thoughts screamed, 'I knew this stuff would be the end of him... but this soon?'
He looked up to see the man stand up. His mind snapped from Jorge to his current situation.
'I know this guy from somewhere...' Jeric's inner subconscious thought. His eyes grew wide with terror when he realized who he was. He pulled out his phone and pulled up the local news site. He looked up to see the man pull out a gun concealed in his jacket. The lady sitting across from him looked up from her book and screamed. Jeric looked down at his phone. The picture on the phone was the same as before him; an older looking Asian man.
Sachiro Yugashi - Wanted for Rape and 1st Degree Murder. Belongs to the Japanese Underworld.
Sachiro slowly approached the girl with the gun at his side. She was in here early twenties, and was defenseless. Jeric looked at his bag. He opened it and reached for his blade.
'Don't bring a knife to a gunfight.' One of the many voices in his head said. Jeric knew it was right. He reached for the Death Note. He searched in the bag for a pen, but he realized he had a strict policy against such supplies. He reached for the knife. By now, Sachiro was in the process of cornering the girl. Jeric cut the tip of his finger, and opened the book. He opened the book to the first page and wrote in bloody letters.
Blood dripped down his wrist. He stared at the man now holding her by her hair. She was silently crying, and he slowly undressed her. Strands of her black hair stuck to her tear-streaked cheek. Just as he was about to empower her, Sachiro grabbed his chest. He stepped back and looked around the cabin. He stared into Jeric's eyes as his went blank. The girl slipped down the wall, thanking God.
Jeric stared down at the now dried blood on the page.
"Oh my God...I killed him... I... I killed him..." He whispered as he stared down at his hand. Blood had dropped to his hand and was wrapping its way around his hand. The train pulled into the next station and grinded to a halt.
Jeric got off at the stop, near his old house in a high- end neighborhood. He rushed off, forgetting that he was supposed to appear as calm as possible. The guards on the platform pay no attention to him. He heard the commotion as a woman screamed and officers began to pile into the car. Jeric watched from the stairs before he turned and started moving to the sidewalk. He was given the fortune of having the station right across from Jorge's neighborhood.
Apart from Jeric's old neighborhood, a relatively high class and ritzy spot, Jorge's neighborhood was filled with cheap, cookie cutter housing. Jeric did prefer it, however, to his old neighborhood. He preferred the modest working class to the rich. The clouds were shifting as he walked past the sign naming the area.
"Good ole' Sheppard's Path." He said as he thought about the times being here with Jorge. After a short walk in the brisk wind, he came up to the house. The flagpole outside was at half-mass.
'His mother was always patriotic. 'He thought as he opened the door. He and Jorge had been best friends since early youth, and his mother had been like one to Jeric ever since his parents divorced. Jeric just wished that His own father would act more of a father to Jorge. He kind of wished he'd make a better attempt of being a father to himself.
Jeric stepped into the living room, and Hanna ran up to him. She buried her head in his chest. Jeric wrapped her in a tight embrace.
"I don't know what happened... they just found him dead in behind some of the shops in Halliville... They say he had a heart attack. I don't know if it were drugs or stress..." She said, and then began crying into his chest. Jeric held her head as she emptied herself into his chest. None of the words were audible, but Jeric knew her distress. She was a strong woman, the only other time Jeric ever saw her cry was when her husband, Jorge's father, was killed in action.
That was 10 years ago, back with the major push into Iraq. Now she's just lost her only joy and lived in despair. Jeric pulled away and looked down.
"Do you need me to stay here for a bit? Just to help around?" He said, trying not to get himself choked up. Hanna nodded he head. Jeric held her closely and rubbed her back.
"Okay, but I need to run home and grab a few things." He whispered. Jeric let go and jogged out the door. He checked his watch and figured at his current pace it'd take him an hour and a half to grab what he needed.
After a massive legal battle, his mother owned that house now, and was not very fond of him, but he had no other choice. He did convince himself, however, to go after realizing he'd get to see his sister.
Jeric moved his hand behind the potted plant that rested next to the door. He figured his mother wasn't intelligent enough to move the key, so he found no guilt in unlocking the door.
He hadn't seen any cars in the driveway, and the garage was closed. He crept into the house and heard the scampering of his dog. Butter Bean ran down the stairs and started jumping all over Jeric.
"Down boy, c'mon Butter Bean, down." He whispered. Butter Bean stopped his assault, and walked off to his side as Jeric began to explore the house.
"You're such a goober." Jeric said, looking down at the goofy dog. Much like his name, his coat was a dark blond, and he had an oddly adorably large head with huge, yellow eyes.
He walked through the living room and entered the kitchen. His sister, Savannah sat in a chair facing the setting sun, smoking.
"So you're back..." She said, not taking her eyes from the sun. Savannah was three years younger than Jeric, making her a freshman. She shared Jeric's long, brown hair and green eyes, but she was shorter, and more slender, in stature compared to Jeric's status of 6'3 and 220 pounds.
"Just for a bit, I'm staying with Hanna until things calm down."Jeric replied
"Hanna... How is she? I haven't seen her these past 5 years."
"She's in a bad spot, Jorge is dead." Savannah didn't seem phased by the news.
Instead, she reached for her purse and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds. She hit the pack, offered the exposed cigarette to Jeric, and lit it for him when he accepted.
"How're you taking it?" She asked, finally looking at her brother. Jeric took a drag from his cigarette.
"Same as her. We've been friends since before you were born. I'd almost be as distraught if I lost you." Jeric said. Savannah laughed at the thought.
"Funny, coming from the brother that hasn't been around for the past five years." She retorted. Jeric set the cigarette down in the ashtray.
"It's because of all the legal BS that dear old mum set up. If it wasn't for the restringing order on dad and me, I'd be here." Jeric finished. He resumed enjoying his cigarette.
"Speaking of which, she'll be home soon. You should probably dust off." She said.
"You've been reading Heinlein, I take it." Jeric laughed. He'd read Starship Troopers when he was her age.
"Neither the less, you should. I remember when dad came to give me a present on my birthday. Mom pulled a gun and acted like he was trying to murder her." She said.
"Oh, you should see when she's angry." He said, getting out of the chair. He started up the stairs with Butter Bean at his side. He walked into his old room and saw it was transformed into an entertainment center. He ran back out into the hall.
"Hey, where'd mom put my stuff?" He shouted.
"I dunno, check the attic." She called back. Jeric started up the stairs and walked into the storage room. It was a mix between an art studio and storage for various things, but to Jeric it was all the same. He walked past some rather terrible looking self portraits and found a bin labeled "Jeric's" and opened it. He pulled various clothing items out until he got to the bottom. Most of the clothes were too small, but he found a torn jacket he kept a spare stash of money in. He figured it'd be enough to help out Hanna and get him to Halliville. He pocketed it when he heard the door slam close.
"What the hell are you doing here?" His mother asked as she held a gun. Jeric wondered if it was the same gun she pointed at his father. He stepped closer, and his mother raised it.
"I knew you'd come back, just like your god-forsaken father." She hissed. Jeric inched closer a bit more. She seemed skittish.
"You don't give him enough credit, he's doing quite well. He even knows that you need to take the safety off before you can fire." He smirked. His mother made the mistake of taking the gun off of him to check the safety. Jeric took the opportunity and closed in the decent 4 foot of space to grab the piece and yank it from her hands. She fell back and crawled up against the wall.
"What the hell are you doing?" She asked.
"Just coming to get what I own." He said.
Jeric looked down at the gun, thought of the situation earlier and put the pistol in his pocket. He jogged down the stairs and made it to the door. He was about to leave when Butter Bean came trotting up to bid him farewell.
"I'm gonna miss you, boy." He said as he pet him.
"When's the next time I'm going to see you?" Savannah asked as she walked into the foyer.
"I don't know. It's not safe for me here." He said, still crouching on the ground with Butter Bean.
"But you came back today. Why?" She asked, searching for a deeper answer.
"I needed to grab some things." He said, patting his pocket.
"So you'll come back for money, but you won't come back for your sister?" She asked hypothetically. For the first time in a while, the feeling of pain registered on her face.
"It's more than just money; it's to help out Hanna." He said.
"Hanna's not your sister though." Savannah said, now carefully hiding her emotions.
"You didn't just lose your son." Jeric retorted.
"You're right. I've lost a brother." She said. Her guard fell, and a tear streamed down her left cheek. Jeric got up and walked over to her, but she turned away.
"Just go. You need to be with the one you love." She said as she walked through the hallway to the bathroom. She didn't slam the door, but the way it closed was nearly louder emotionally.
Jeric turned around and walked out the door, wondering about her last sentence. It took Jeric a while longer to get back to Sheppard's Path because of the traffic that blocked his way. It was near twilight by the time he walked in the door.
Hanna got up from her love seat to give him another hug.
"Are you okay? You look a little flushed." She said. Jeric waved her off.
"I'm fine. Did you get anything for dinner?" He asked. His stomach growled when he thought of food.
"l haven't. Did you want anything in particular?" She asked.
"It's alright, I'll take care of it," Jeric shooed her away.
"Go and watch TV." He assured her. She awkwardly walked out of her own kitchen while Jeric searched the drawer for food caterers.
He found a Chinese food joint that he frequented. He picked up the phone and placed his order. Afterwards, Jeric went to the living room and sat down next to Hanna on the couch. She was watching some show featuring comedic doctors.
Jeric was never interested much in television, but the show seemed decent enough. Before too long, the doorbell rang. Jeric left the room and came back in a few minutes later with an armful of food.
"Oh, you didn't have to pay." She said, sitting up. Jeric placed the two liter of Coke on the table along with all but one container.
"It's alright," He said, opening the plastic container.
"I know a guy that works there, he owes me one." He lied, sitting down next to her. Hanna pecked him on the check.
"Thanks for being so sweet. I really needed this." She said quietly. Jeric suddenly felt very uneasy.
"Excuse me; I'm going to go grab some plates and cups." He said.
Jeric stood up and walked into the kitchen. The uneasiness did not reside. He looked around the drawers for the plates and cups. He found them and pulled them out.
'Maybe she's just affectionate for me, I mean; she's been there for me for so long... And besides, who'd want me? After having an awesome husband like she did, everyone else falls short. 'Jeric thought. He tried remembering memories of his childhood. He recalled the time he'd skinned his knee. She patched him up and kissed him on the forehead. He'd hugged her, and she said he'd make a good man someday. It felt like an eon ago, and he still felt like a child.
A child with very conflicted feelings.
While he was still thinking, she quietly crept in the kitchen. She hugged him from behind, only it felt different to Jeric this time. Jeric turned around and returned the embrace and rested his head on hers. He thought of his dead friend, that last Friday, and he began to silently weep. His tears fell onto the top of Hanna's strawberry blonde bun. She felt the sadness, and took some comfort in not being alone.
"You've always given me comfort, Jeric. You gave me comfort in the way of showing that someone does care more about themselves. You're a lot like Jorge's father, in that way. I've seen it, and I know he's seen it too. I'm tired of losing people, Jeric. I'm tired of being alone." She whispered. Jeric tried to detect the hint of alcohol, or even some mind altering substance. There wasn't. He held her tighter. He didn't want a number of things to happen. He didn't want her to see him cry, he didn't her to move in for the kill, but most importantly, he didn't want anything to change.
He'd never felt so sad yet so comfortable at the same time. He'd seen death, both at his own hands, and at the hands of God. He'd felt so cold, so out of place; he had no idea how to solve it. He didn't look towards his family; only his father hadn't cut him out, and he was constantly away. Even now, he'd always confided to Jorge. To Jorge and Hanna. But now, everything felt peaceful, everything felt right.
In an instance, he felt his world collapse. Something felt wrong, like he was being watched. He stared out the window and into two, bulbous globes that might have been eyes. He suddenly felt very afraid, both for Hanna and himself.
"C'mon, let's go eat before the food gets cold." He said, letting go. Hanna followed him back into the windowless Living room. They sat in silence, a blanket over them and food on the table, and what ever sprit now haunts Jeric outside.
They watched what ever came on; everything from a cartoon about the future, to a show about viral videos. Jeric soon felt Hanna's head on his shoulder. The food lay untouched on the table. Jeric switched off the TV and picked Hanna up. She was in her mid thirties; she was only 5'4" and was rather light. Jeric had no trouble lifting her up and bringing her to her bedroom. He laid her on the bed, and decided to undress her. It was relatively easy, but he tried to think of a damn good excuse to explain why she was only wearing her under garments. As he walked out of the dimly lit room, he stopped by her dresser. On it was a picture of her and Jorge next to a candle. He lit it, and then made his way down to the guest room.
Jeric opened the door to Jorge's old room. He didn't bother to turn on the lights because he'd already memorized it in the past few years. Outside, bolts of lighting decided to give him their assistance anyways.
His hands felt the padding that caused the room to stay sound-proof. He fell back on the bed and thought. He remembered times, sitting in this room, playing music, he on guitar and Jorge on drums. He remembered times where they both cried of the loss of pets, friends, and family. He'd told all of Jorge his secretes, and even confessed that Jorge not rely on such heavy drugs. Jeric got up off of the bed and walked over to the drawer with a vanity mirror. Jeric looked into the black mirror, and looked at the edge of the framing in the darkness. There was a photo that was stuck under the frame. He pulled it out and stared at it in picture of him and Jorge, playing at an open mike night. That was back when Jeric, Veronika and Jorge were all in a band. Jorge played drums, Veronika played bass, and Jeric played guitar and sang. They did well, but it was the last time they had played, seeing as there was nothing about them that made them stand out. Jeric stared down at the 4 month old photo. As he placed the photo back, he felt a chill run down his spine.
"Hyuk hyuk hyuk... I've been waiting to meet you." Called the voice of death. In the flash of lighting, Jeric made out the shadow of the Voice in the mirror along with the eyes he saw before.
"Who are you?" Jeric asked.
"Me? Why, I'm Ryuk. I've been watching you for a while, Jeric Bvostich." The voice claimed.
"How do you know me?" Jeric asked.
"I'm a Shinigami." Ryuk chuckled. Jeric took the opportunity to spin and whip out the pistol he had in his pocket. He thrust it upward, and then nearly dropped it.
He got the first real glimpse at the Shinigami's face, and it didn't help that his arms had gone through Ryuk's chest. The gun fell from Jeric's grip as he dropped to his knees.
"What the hell are you?" Jeric asked, frozen in place.
"Hyuk hyuk hyuk... I'm a God of Death."
"A...A God of Death?" Jeric nearly whispered. His arms fell limp by his side.
"Yes, I am the Shinigami Ryuk. I am associated with the Death Note dropped into this world." He spoke.
"That... that book? That book was real?" He asked as he hit the floor. His mind fell black as the events of the past 24 hours took their toll
Jeric awoke a few hours later, over in Jorge's bed. He thought about the weird dream he had last night, and almost forgot he wasn't an eight year old at a sleep over
"She's a little old for you, don't you think?" Ryuk chuckled. Jeric looked over towards the voice.
"Why are you haunting me?" Jeric asked, still feeling negative effects from last night.
"I told you, I'm attached to that Death Note." Ryuk said. Jeric stared at the monstrosity in front of him.
"Goddamn, what happened yesterday?" He said, now realizing he'd been stripped down to his boxers. He sat up and put his pants on. He checked his pockets and pulled out the pistol.
"Jesus Christ, I didn't kill anybody, did I?" Jeric asked with a worried look on his face. Ryuk laughed. You did, but not in a way where they'd ever know it was you." Ryuk explained. Jeric cocked his head.
"Didn't you read the rules?" Ryuk questioned. Jeric sat back down and tried to recall what happened yesterday. After the painful flood of memories, it started coming back to him.
"Jorge is dead... I killed a rapist... What the hell?" Jeric asked himself.
"And then I went home, came back... Ryuk, did you undress me and put me in bed?" Jeric looked towards his new friend.
"Heh heh, I didn't have the pleasure too." Ryuk giggled. A soft tapping came from the door
"Jeric, are you awake?" Hanna's soft voice barely made it past the wooden door.
Jeric's face fell blank as he stared at Ryuk. Hanna opened the door. She was wearing the old, torn up robe she'd always worn. It was only now that Jeric seemed to be able to see the various patches of skin.
"Hey." She nearly whispered as she sat down on the bed with Jeric. He sat, very surprised at the fact she could ignore Ryuk like that.
'Or maybe she just can't see him. He is a ghost, after all." He thought.
"Hey, sorry about the whole... undressing thing." He apologized.
"Oh, it's alright, I kind of did the same. You were just passed out on the floor, so dragged you back and... Yeah." Hanna shyly said. Her cheeks turned a bright red. Jeric put her arm around her and pulled her close.
"This has been a rough few hours for me. For us." Hanna said, resting her head onto Jeric shoulder. Jeric stared back up to Ryuk, wondering what the hell was going on.
"How was going home yesterday?" Hanna asked. Jeric looked down at her.
"I found the pistol in your pocket... I figured it was either yours or your mothers. Your parents were very supportive of the second amendment." Hanna said.
"She's trying to kill me off from the family... I saw my sister yesterday." Jeric explained.
"How was it?" Hanna asked him.
"It's been five years. She's grown up so much," Jeric started, feeling pain rush around his body.
"I remember when I had to change her diapers, and I taught her a little bit on the guitar. She'd try to sing along with her own made up words. I remember piercing her ears, and mom having made such a fit. I remember John's funeral, trying to get her to understand he's in a better place." Jeric held her tightly. After a while, Hanna got up.
"I'll go down and prepare breakfast." She said nearly floating across the floor. As soon as the door closed, Ryuk began to explain.
"Only you and the people who touch a piece or the whole Death note are able to see me. Be happy she didn't go in your bag, or that might've ruined the whole mood." Ryuk joked. Jeric ignored this and ran to his bag. He tore into it and retrieved the note.
"First Kill: Sachiro Yugashi. Age 32, Japanese, died of a heart attack." Ryuk listed off in a formal manner. Jeric pulled out his phone and brought up the local news.
"Dear God, you're right... I killed him." Jeric replied, closing the book. He looked at the cover.
"I assume that this is yours?" Jeric asked, turning to his Shinigami. Ryuk nodded his head.
"You want it back?" Jeric asked, holding the note out to him.
"You mean you're going to give it up? Just like that?" Ryuk asked, somewhat dismayed. He was hoping his trip to the human world would be much more… Entertaining.
Jeric responded by holding it up closer.
"Hm, pity. I figured most would be thrilled to kill and get away with it." Ryuk said, lifting his hand to the note.
"Just be lucky you killed someone, or else I wouldn't be able to take it back." He said, placing his hand on the note.
"Well I guess I could drop it in that Korea place, with that Kim fellow." Ryuk said, purposely taunting Jeric. Ryuk was purposely toying with Jeric's emotions to get him to hold onto the book for much longer.
Jeric stopped, his fingers suddenly stronger than steel.
"What do you mean? You can't possibly think of giving this to the world's biggest criminal?" Jeric asked.
Ryuk grinned.
"Precisely, after all, what happens here doesn't affect me or anyone else in the Shinigami realm. Why should I care who takes it?" Jeric stared Ryuk in his gigantic eyes.
"You don't care about the countless people that would die? The lives that'd be lost?" Jeric said, starting to pull back on the book. Ryuk smiled.
"It doesn't affect me. It might even provide some entertainment. The Shinigami realm does get a bit boring." Ryuk said.
"You don't have any feelings for us, what so ever?" Jeric asked him, not really expecting an answer.
"I think I get you now. I've seen a lot of people through the portal, but you certainly are a rare case. You must really have been close to that James fellow."
Ryuk said, referring to Jorge's father.
"John. His name is John, "Jeric growled," And besides, we're different. He died for something, I live for nothing. That's just one of the many things that made him great." Jeric finished as he put on his shirt. He walked over to the window. He stared at the children playing in the late Saturday morning mist.
"This note though... This could be it." Jeric whispered.
"What do you mean?" Ryuk asked, generally curious.
"I can end this corrupt world. I can create a new order. I can destroy the backwards policies and return people back to what matters the most... I can end it all." Jeric said. He grasped the note in his hands to the point of his knuckles turning white.
"How are you going to do that? It's not a miracle maker." Ryuk replied. Jeric turned to him, his green eyes frosted with hate.
"I will scorch this Earth with a nuclear fire." Jeric said. His grin grew to an evil smile as he stared out into the world, thinking of his new objective.
'This human... This human is a riot!' Ryuk thought as he stared out into the human world
X
Yesterday 13:24:59
"Kyoto, you can come in now." Dr. Steinlien said. Kyoto adjusted her pommes and walked through the door to her therapist office. She'd been seeing him ever since grade 6, but it was only now that she really needed it.
"So tell me, Kyoto, how've you been since we spoke over the phone?" He asked, leaning back in his chair. He pulled the pen he chewed on away from his mouth when he spoke. Kyoto pulled off her glasses and laid across the couch she'd grown close to over the years.
"I've been better. I'm still having nightmares about Friday... I haven't really even gone to sleep, all I do is lay in bed and think about his face going blank, then he'd clutch his chest. I start crying, and my parents come in and calm me down."
Kyoto said. She shivered and pulled the sleeves of her jacket over he hands.
"So tell me again, who was Jorge to you?" He asked.
"He was a friend... we had class in school. He wanted to do well in school, and I heard he was in a band. I thought he could teach me an instrument." She explained.
"The social interaction didn't scare you?" He asked, taking his glasses off and putting it in his pocket.
"No, he was really sweet and kind. He looked kind of scary, but underneath he was nice." She said. Dr. Steinlien nodded.
"What was his background?" He asked.
"Well, we hadn't talked much, bit I knew his father was killed in Iraq. He lived with his mother in a low-income neighborhood. He and his friends would come to the apartment complex that my father owns. There is a market area under the units"
She said.
"Halliville?" He said, leaving the pen on his lips.
"Yes, we live in one of the bigger units." She said.
"I'd invite him over to my house to study, and then we'd go afterschool to his house to play." She finished, sighing.
"Interesting. So on Friday, he was studying?" Dr. Steinlien asked.
"No, actually, he was hanging around the lower parts, looking around with some friends. I spotted him, and he invited me to join. He said Veronika and he were going to find Jeric." Kyoto told her doctor.
"Jeric?" He inquired.
"Jeric was the lead singer and guitarist in his band. I saw him right before I came here, actually." Kyoto revealed. Dr. Steinlien looked even more curious than before.
"What was he doing out of school so early?"
"I don't really know, he said it was for early dismissal." Kyoto answered, unsure of herself.
"Interesting." he replied, jotting something down.
"Do you know him on a personal level?" He asked, returning his attention to Kyoto.
"No. To be honest, I don't think he knows I exist." She said, sadness lingering on her words.
"Hmm, so did you find him Friday night?" He asked, returning to the original topic.
"No, we got to his apartment, but no one answered. Jorge got upset and said something about 'H'." She said.
"Heroin?" Dr. Steinlien corrected her.
"Yes, Heroin. When I saw he was shooting up, I followed him down alleyways and behind shops. I didn't want to lose my only friend." She said, now sitting up on the couch. She wiped a tear from her eye.
"Interesting... Did you finally catch up to him?" He asked, chewing on his pen.
She nodded her head.
"I did. It was behind a sub shop, he just stood there. I asked him to please stop doing this, that it was only hurting himself, that I could help. He turned to me and said that 'this was all the help I need.' He came towards me, holding the syringe.
She said, on the verge of sobbing. Dr. Steinlien leaned forward.
"He staggered towards me and dropped the needle. He embraced me, and he begged me to forgive him. He begged me, his mother, father, and God for forgiveness. He pulled away, crying, and then his face went blank and he dropped." She said, tears streaming down her face. She moved her hand to her face.
"I just don't know what I did... I lost my only friend. Why did I have to kill him?" She asked, more to herself. Dr. Steinlien looked at her.
"You didn't kill him, Kyoto. He did it himself." He said calmly.
She shook her head.
"I drove him to it. I pushed him over the edge. I should've just stayed inside, like I always do." She began to cry.
"Kyoto, you have got to stop blaming yourself for everything negative. Life happens; he would have died whether you were there or not." He firmly stated.
"I don't know. Ever since he died, it's felt like my Guardian sprit has left me." She said. Outside, the sun began to dip into the clouds.