A/N: Back and writing again, I am pleased to say. Lately, though, I've been kind of stressed, worrying about silly things. Mostly, I'm worrying about entering high school. True, I can't wait for it because I'm sick of being babied but also I'm going to a different high school than three out of my four best friends. Also, I entered all advanced classes under teacher and parent recommendation and even though I'm a really good student I feel like… hmmm… I won't be enough. For those of you that have been in this sort of situation do you have any words of advice? If so that'd be great. Send it in your review or, if you prefer for some reason, send it to my hotmail address, i l o v e (underscore) i n u (at) h o t m a i l . c o m (take out spaces/ add underscore and at sign). Thank you so much if you do!
Survival Is Just a Game
Chapter VII
Murder is a memorable thing for everyone involved.
It takes place in any surrounding, any form and with any person though each scenario is always different. Just yesterday I had read in Tokyo news about a thirty-year-old woman being brutally clubbed to death with a gulf club in her own house, courtesy of her husband. She had suffered, the paper had said, and was suffering under abuse even before the attack. If she had told anyone, the police, a friend, anyone she probably would have still been alive and well, divorced from her abusive husband.
It didn't take much for the police to figure out who had killed the wife - I figured he was a bad liar and might as well of walked up to the station with the bloody club in hand, something the morning paper didn't have to tell me. Even by looking at all of the evidence the paper told me, in small words for the more dimwitted of folk, a six-year-old could have pieced everything together about as easily as a ten piece puzzle. It still muddles me why the newspaper tried to make every detail seem like it was pure genius, like when the murderer had stashed the bar under his couch. Oh yes, that man was a genius with a capital J. It sickened me to no end so I switched on to the front page murder story once more and re-read the mastermind who committed his own, unique masterpiece.
Gruesome Body of Nine-Year-Old Trisha Found beneath Surface – Murderer Still At Large was the title of this particular piece, the font or size no different than that of the title on the other murder story or the font in the classified section. It was what was below the bolded letters that intrigued me and got my mind working into overdrive, trying to piece together the particular organizer of this death. It seems I had met my match because I could not solve anything with the information that leaked onto the recycled paper.
I have seemed to mule over who the murderer was for months now, getting no feedback in return as I had for the other cases. The murder's signature was scrawled all over this case as it had for over ten others in the past year or so and I was honoured to even see that my story had made the same page as it in the addition two weeks ago when the murderer had last struck. But I felt particularly close to this murder, as if I had a relation in it. I just couldn't put my finger on why. Though, to my regret I have not yet, I prayed that one day I may piece together the person through another murderer's logic and have a pleasant chat with them. I'd like to find out how they ticked and see if it was in anyway like my own clock. It's so nice to be understood.
As I skimmed through the story reading about how little Trisha would have celebrated her tenth birthday by now, how the pleas of her desperate parents didn't distract the murderer and in the end the police had found Trisha in a place they expected, their only suspicion of her whereabouts was the awful odour coming from her bedroom. Trisha had been nailed to the planks of wood underneath her floorboards all alone and no one had a clue. Pure genius.
It was now that I had figured out why I had this connection with the child serial killer as I fiddled with a lock of golden hair. It was now that I had figured out why I wished to talk with this person. It is now that I figured out why I wanted to murder with this person. And, with great pride, I realized that all of the answers pleased me to no end. I was committing the perfect crime as well.
OOO
Blinds rustled as they were pulled shut, the light switch flipped softly, a leather chair groaned under pressure and soon everything was quiet.
Nothing moved.
Again, the creaking of the chair interrupted the oddly creepy silence before it came to an abrupt halt. A quiet, mischievous voice followed immediately after floating among the dust in the room, chiming off various bookshelves. "Hello," There was a dead pause for a split second. "I've been waiting… waiting…" The voice trailed of before an annoyed groan burst through the air followed by incoherent muttering stretched the long, mahogany length of the room. The chair squealed again.
As soon as the chair turned for a third time a black, compact intercom crackled and buzzed until a woman's bored voice also invaded the room. "Sir, there's a Nakasumi-san here to see you." He voice was so flat that the papers scattered along the dark cherry wood desk were probably jealous. The voice continued. "She had an appointment for 2:15 today. Would you like me to cancel?" Dark thoughts ran along the man's head as he considered something private to himself. In a flash he was leaning over the desk, hovering inches above the metal speaker, pressing the button labelled 'Talk' until it wouldn't go down any further. The man's voice started to speak in a range of enthusiastic tones, going faster and faster till the words became mush as soon as they were out of his mouth. The secretary seemed to get the gist of the information because she replied with a curt 'She's on her way,' before buzzing off and returning to her normal, dull activities.
The man on the other end had the opposite effect to the conversation though. A victorious fist pumped powerfully into the dusty air before the words 'She's on her way,' buzzed from the back of his mind to the front and he dove for the oversized leather chair. Spinning a full 360 degrees before another 180 the man with bright eyes crossed one leg over the other before folding his hands neatly on his armrest, into his lap. 'Remember,' he reminded himself, the information vital to the plan. 'Pace is everything.'
From down the hall heels – stilettos, he believed - clacked on the hardwood floor about ten feet before the office door. The immature man tried to calm his accelerating breath but with barely any success. Finally, his chance would soon be coming through those large, wooden doors just mere feet behind him! Slowly, the door pushed open, just barely scraping the dark panel below. The clicking was much louder, much closer until finally it stopped at the foot of the professional-looking desk.
His eyes shut together in excitement, resisting the urge to let out a quiet squeal before he shifted the leather chair around – which, thankfully, decided to behave and not groan under weight - to come face to face with a beautiful, young woman. That, though, was the last thing on his mind. Holding his sly expression in place was hard enough without cracking up into a fit of girlish giggles.
"Welcome, Ms. Nakasumi," His voice was a light purr, just as he planned and hoped. "I've been expecting you."
From in front of him the young woman's expression changed from confused to deadpan and Shippo suddenly had the slightest feeling 'Ms. Nakasumi' wanted to bang her head off of something blunt. A gusty sigh escaped his lips.
"Apparently," He started lightly. "I need to work on the layout. You wouldn't believe the amount of phrases the villain has to choose fro--!" Before he could start ranting again Kirara cut him off.
"Shippo," It sounded more like a question to see if he was listening. Even so, she never waited for a response. "Grow up." A stack of papers was dropped onto the childish adult before the clacking of heels started up again and gradually disappeared.
OOO
Several things happened simultaneously.
Everyone tensed, three people's breath caught in their throats, two people jumped back and one person hid.
Several things happened simultaneously. All four people tensed, Kagome and the two others took in a sharp breath, the two across from Inuyasha jumped back, and the black haired man hid behind his companion. What a appalling day for the male gender, it was.
But other than that single form of cowardliness other specifically detailed things happened. Kagome's mind buzzed with questions in the form of angry wasps, stinging specific places but not one was about her injured ankle. Inuyasha seemed to sense this and snarled, baring his teeth like a vicious dog. In return, the man who hid shamelessly behind the woman seemed to regain some honour and poked his head over the brown hair, resting it on the brunettes shoulder. She seemed a bit annoyed by this action and shrugged it off while whispering harsh words to the man who stiffened immediately and stood tall next to his partner. The woman glared at the coward for a moment before shifting her glower to Kagome and Inuyasha's direction. Kagome, feeling slightly overtaken, ducked her head out off view but Inuyasha, not wanting to be outdone by a girl, returned it back ten fold. The opposing woman only seemed to intensify her own gaze with aggravation.
All and all, everyone in the clearing looked like a complete idiot.
If you actually picture the image you will see a woman hiding on a man's back who was glaring at another woman, who was glaring back, with their partner as stiff as a board beside them. The image froze for a split second before chaos erupted leaving the feelings of confusion and shock with it. The anger, though, was a different matter.
The brown-hair woman in ratty, khaki-coloured clothes started to speak with a certain edge of intelligence to her voice that Inuyasha did not expect. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?" Her sharp tone bit into the hot air, making everything all the more tense, leaving behind a slight echo.
Play it smart, Inuyasha reminded himself in the slight pause never missing a beat to glare. Make her angry, she doesn't seem too cool tempered to begin with. "I don't suggest," Inuyasha's own voice was a low growl, almost inaudible for the two across from him. "Asking questions you don't intend to answer." He finished off the witty comeback with a sarcastic smirk, the one his father had always told him to lose when he got moody.
The woman did just what Inuyasha had planned and stomped forward angrily to give him a piece of her mind. He decided not to back down, just as he hadn't before during the glaring, and dropped Kagome off his back. He heard her let out a small squeak followed by a weak "Hey!" but it all faded into the background.
This woman needed to learn how to back down and how to submit, because he wasn't about to. His footsteps quickened with his irrelevant and completely sexist thoughts about how the man of their group should have come to 'greet' him, how the man should have stepped up and not let a woman do his job. How this woman should learn her place, as well - Like I said, completely sexist. His footsteps come to a halt when he was mere inches from the opponent before the yelling began.
"I asked you the question first and I'll be damned if I end up answering my own question!" She yelled. Boy, this woman was either stupid or had guts.
"Yea, well, I guess your damned, huh?" Inuyasha really had no clue how yelling at the top of his lungs was ever going to do anything, or what exactly he planned the match of becoming but ever since he came to this place, the island, he had gotten no real outlet. He wanted to scream or hurt something for so long to make up for what was happening to him but he had nothing as an outlet. He could easily have used an inanimate object – a rock or something – but there was no point in that because he would only look like an idiot. He could take it out on Kagome but she was no older, mentally of course, than a ten-year-old and taking something out on a ten-year-old was not the way he wanted to do something. So, now that the opportunity to actually have a living vent presented itself he jumped at the opportunity. He was not about to lose, either.
As the verbal slashes started to rise and rise, Kagome, who was a good 20 feet behind Inuyasha by now, started to feel stabs of pain in her ankle from dull and razor-sharp knifes as she tried to stand. At each attempt she failed and on the fifth try she collapsed the ground with a thud. A giant sigh passed her lips. What was she going to do now?
Just as the thoughts of stopping Inuyasha from getting into a full-fledged fight with the odd woman started she noticed a large, fair hand stretch into her view. Her eyes wandered her mind slightly, feeling in a place of déjà vu, as her eyes followed up the arm to meet the man with black, cropped hair. He gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart throb underneath her shirt. He really was a sight to behold, looking better up-close.
"Do you need some help?" His voice was calm and collected, almost the exact opposite of his partner except with the same smart trace to it. Before she knew it, Kagome had nodded her head and he had taken her hand to support all of her weight on him. "Now," He said as he swung her arm around his neck. He turned his head to face her, which Kagome noticed with a reddening face, was only two or so inches away from her own. "Where exactly did you get hurt?" His tone was light despite the constant bickering of the couple behind them. Kagome was shocked by his peaceful tone, but didn't show it.
"Um…" she hesitated, trying to find words to fill her mouth. "I- I twisted my ankle. I fell into this hole- I don't know if it was an animal or something but it was out in the middle of nowhere – and I heard something crack but then I tried to make a pulley to get myself up cause I couldn't because I was exhausted but that just ended up failing and I ended up in the hole and passing out and I don't know…" Her voice trailed off, confused and a bit anxious to see his reaction. He merely laughed, though. While he laughed he looked down at her leg, taking a bit too long in her opinion but she was too cowardly to say anything, before turning his attention back to her face with an optimistic grin still in place.
"Okay, okay," He was trying to get the laughing fit to die down. "Why don't we go take a look at it?" And before she could tell what was happening they were on the move to a nearby fallen tree.
He gently set her down upon the thick, green moss and propped her injured leg on his knee. His expression was shocked as her pulled down his sock to revel a giant gash filled with dried blood and oozing puss. "Whoa…" His shocked expression remained in place as he tilted his head to met Kagome's own nauseous eyes. How come she was getting sick at this blood and not the other blood? Or was it the puss?
Without any words the surprised expression relaxed and he closed his eyes. He mumbled something along the lines of "Thank God I'm a doctor." before letting out a loud, shrill whistle to try and catch the attention of the other two who were still arguing. After no response the expression become annoyed, almost as annoyed as the woman's was, before he started to bark at them as loudly as they were at each other.
"For Christ sake – would you two stop acting like five year olds and get yourselves over here?" This seemed to catch the attention of both Inuyasha and the woman and there heads whipped around angrily "Children?!" They both shrieked in unison before the woman gasped, her attention finally being caught by the blood on Kagome's leg. Her expression turned worried as her eyes turned guilt-stricken for ignoring such an injury before she rushed over to meet them, falling on her knees while observing the cut with precise eyes. They never left the gash while she spoke.
"What happened, Miroku?" So the man's name was Miroku.
"She got caught in a hole and fell forward, I'm guessing, and her ankle snapped. That's just a guess, at least." Snapped? Kagome became more sickened with the more she heard.
"You mean it's completely broken? And what gives you the authority to announce that?" When had Inuyasha sneaked up on them till he was right at her side, over her shoulder?
"Considering he's a doctor…" The woman trailed off, obviously still as annoyed as Inuyasha. Inuyasha opened his mouth for another witty comeback but was cut off by Miroku.
'Sango, can we focus on the matter at hand here please? We need to fix this right away." Sango huffed before turning her head in defiance.
"I'll go get some leaves to wrap it up."
"No, Sango, I need salt water right now. Inuyasha can go get some leaves because he probably doesn't know the way out." Inuyasha opened his mouth to either tell him off or tell Miroku he knew exactly how to get out. Either way, Kagome cut him off.
"Inuyasha," Her voice was stern and commanding. "Put a sock in it." Inuyasha's mouth froze in mid-word before he too let out a huff and stalked off to find some long leaves.
After both of the angry/annoyed adults left the two's view two simultaneous sighs were finally set free, followed by two side-grins.
"Children,"
OOO
Okay… I know I promised Sunday so never get me to promise stuff again. I'd like to thank all of my loyal reviewers and without your encouragement this wouldn't have been written (as cheesy as that sounds.) I'd like to give a special shout-out to Silver-Theif-Maker who's birthday was on Tuesday and whom I dedicate this chapter to.
So did anyone notice something a bit… odd… about the villain? No, not Shippo (even though he is odd.) but the person in the first part? Not the part about murder, though that was odd too, but rather the description at the end? Blond? Take a note of that.
Thank you all for reading and possibly reviewing!
-Hearii-sama
