Restraint
Chapter Seven: Suspicion
Scriiitch. Scraaatch.
I shifted subtly in the darkness, removing my battered knees from the vaporous slabs. I'd been routinely inspecting for feeble bars - my desire for freedom far surpassing any fear of what skulks in gloom. I'd learnt that the rats were keenly aware of my movements, and if I made the slightest noise they'd scuttle to their rancid homes. I envied this ability, wished to slither noiselessly to my own house. Pretend this was nothing more than a harrowing night terror. But I was still trapped, not to be liberated anytime soon.
I sighed, delighting in the pause of all rat ministrations. I relished in any power I could gain. I yearned for control keenly. I lusted for my pride, my honour. There was so much I had lost. I shook my head rapidly, detaching from such pessimistic thoughts. It was arduous to remain enthusiastic - a consequence of the clammy, sombre atmosphere I thrived in. I rose, lengthening my blood encrusted back, and progressed across the cell, fingers gripping the arctic bars, searching in vain for a way to abscond. I'd always believed I was lucky. I'd been mistaken.
I had been assembling and implementing a new tactic to manipulate my captor's 'weak point'. Whenever he came to my dungeon, I'd lie listlessly and ignore his commands. Refuse to engage. I knew he craved dominance, for whatever reason, and by exploiting this I would deprive him of his thrill. It was fatiguing at first. I was so, so undernourished that my self preservation almost steered me. But I managed to restrain myself. He came to me now. My subconscious had been correct – he did not aspire for my death. This was another source of power for me, albeit a minuscule one.
No luck here, the bars were firm. Wedged taught like pikes. The door bolted from the outside as well. I had nothing keen enough to whittle them away, and I refused to use my teeth. A tremor plagued my body. How… deplorable. I altered the blanket on my shoulders – I'd donned it like a cape. Humiliating. I no longer fretted about someone seeing my outfit. It'd been at least a week since my kidnapping, and I was still here. I snorted. Other people were such idiots. It was mystifying that I'd achieved anything with such reinforcement. But that was then, and this was now. All I could do was trust… and plan.
I traversed through the moistened pebbles to my crib, settling on my other soggy blanket. I had located the origin of the mysterious dripping, and it assisted in my battle against dehydration – I hadn't conversed with myself for a while.
Regaining my sanity was awfully exciting.
I reached my tender fingers across to a hole near me, cupping them gently, snaring water. It oozed unpleasantly slowly, but was an improvement from thinking. I used to delight in meditating, reflecting, but that was hell for me now. I knew the effects of solitary confinement - I'd done a research report on it for my Psychology class. "Solitary confinement is employed as a torture technique. It generates isolation panic, identity loss, and a decrease in ability to respond and regulate emotion. It can even result in complete sanity loss." Only in extreme cases, though. Still, fears lingered. I could lose myself. Or my alluring social skills. I was almost gratified that my captor visited me. Otherwise… I trembled. I could become socially inept. A fate worse than rape.
I lapped at the miniature lakes on my skin, exhaling as fluid dribbled down my chapped trachea. My captor had suppresses his urges since his attempted rape. I still had nightmares of that night, however. The possibilities. What he could've done.
Why hadn't he?
Ugh… I detested conundrums.
月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月
CLANK!
I gasped, rousing from my disturbed siesta. I'd experienced another dream. He hadn't abstained. He'd slithered his grimy palm over my precious body. Violated my most sacred sites. It brought bile up my oesophagus.
I rested my languid forehead against my forearms, wishing for the sensation to end. I wondered what he'd do if I vomited over him. At least it would surprise him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He was trotting along calmly, steps lulling me to sleep. I only rested in tiny, light segments. Too paranoid to be left vulnerable for long.
I curled up into my mandatory ball, assuming my 'depressed' pose. I'd formatted it to maximise 'pity factor'. It was effective - he'd hardly punished me since its application. Barely even bothered to summon me. He wouldn't let me feed myself, though. No. That would give me too much freedom. I smirked bitterly. It also wouldn't sedate his desires.
Creaaaak.
He shuffled inside, pausing at the door – assessing if I would humour his disturbed game. I didn't twitch, disregarding his impassive stare. He sagged faintly before creeping into my prison. Water sloshed enticingly, but I remained still. Would he try something? I was tougher now - adept at utilising energy from the minuscule amount of food.
He perched down beside me in his peculiar way - akin to a bird stabilising on a limb. His feet methodically tucked under him, knees crushed to his chest. My hairs rose. He seized my shoulder. I shrugged him off. This was a dangerous game – he angered easily. I didn't want more bruises.
He exhaled dejectedly, as if striving to blackmail me into pitying him. Unlikely. I remained unresponsive, as if I were too pitiful to reply. His toes fiddled with the cot, breaking oppressive silence. His thumb danced on his lips, tongue flicking out to tease the skin.
"Just let me die…" I whispered drastically, thumping my head against the metal. The noise generated a ripple of rat squeals. My captor tensed. He detested rats as well? Strange. We actually had something in common.
"I cannot do that, Raito-kun," he replied wearisomely. We'd had this conversation before. Numerous times. I'd become accustomed to his formal, exceedingly dull,voice. I was almost eager to perceive it. It was more compelling than perpetual silence.
I pouted as the reverberations ceased, slithering fingers through the bricks, probing familiar crevices, disheartened. My acting skills were unrivalled, thank God.
His hand twitched, like a snake, latching onto my fingers. I growled. He was so damned unpredictable. He ran his thumb down my forefinger leisurely. I quivered with terror. My nightmare came back to me, in a flash.
Nails scraping my vehement skin, back arching into his tense, excited stomach. Hands seizing my hips, crippling, wrenching me into him. Melding our heated bodies together. My voice panting no, no, nooo. His, filled with passion, fervour, desire, groaning Raito-kun, Raito-kuuun, crushing his crotch into mine-
I whimpered, aching to be free of this horror. He stilled, hand clasping mine, as my heart decelerated. My pupils ducked behind eyelids. Why wouldn't he leave me?
He cautiously nudged my wrist with his thumb, testing my pulse. I tugged piteously. He didn't yield. I slumped against the cot. As long as he wouldn't molest me, I would let him have fun. Though my heart begged no, logic dictated that if I didn't give him something willingly, then he'd take everything by force.
I breathed the musty blanket, venturing to recall fresh air, as his spindly fingers trekked upward. They reached my elbow, pinching skin savagely. I gasped. He smirked. I detested his games. I was not an object.
He finally touched my shoulder, squeezing it. I rolled my eyes, despondent.
Then, within seconds, he pinned me.
I screeched, propelling fists into his resistant chest, pulse hastening. My nightmare replayed itself. Over and over.
He grunted. Knees digging into my thighs. Desperately hard.
"Stop!" I pleaded, nibbling lips in agony, aiming to fling him off. My shaking hands rested against him. Palms curling in his pale shirt. I struggled. His head came down, level with my neck. Lips glided up my jaw. I paused, transfixed by pain. His hand moved from my head, ducking behind his back. I thought of the worst.
Knives. Guns. Gags. Tape.
No, please, not like this. Notliketthis!
But no. He placed an item in his mouth. I gulped. Wish I'd been more responsive now.
His head moved towards me. Eyes immobilising me. Unwieldy hair tickling my forehead. Tears leaked from my ducts; rivers forming down cheeks. How often had I cried lately? I'd belied so much weakness. Why? Why?
I braced myself for the worst.
Oh God, he's gonna drug me. Not drugs. No!
He leaned on his elbows. Forehead resting against mine. Akin to the time he had attempted to…
His mouth connected with mine.
My lips remained closed.
He bit my bottom lip. Blood oozed.
I wailed. His tongue dipped in, stocking my mouth with…
Apple?
I slumped, relieved. He sniggered breathily. He'd tricked me. The jerk.
I turned my head, chewing, stewing in embarrassment. My hands detached from his warmth. He pecked my forehead. I swallowed. He deposited another slice into his own mouth - holding between his forefinger and thumb, releasing it satisfactorily. My stomach gurgled anxiously. He smooched me, using his slippery tongue to propel the fruit. I accepted reluctantly. He rested against the cot, breathing onto my ear. His arms wrapped around me, stilling my chills.
"Why?" I muttered, virtually inaudibly. He was comfortable, satisfied. Maybe he would speak. I was… aching for conversation. Much as I would never admit it. It was so… isolated. Being without dialogue gave rise to… Nervousness. Anxiety. Loneliness.
"Because apple is an adequate sustenance for a growing boy, Raito-kun." He thrummed into my scarlet ear. Tongue flicking along the shell. Legs rubbing against mine. Was he starved of contact? Did he want me merely for a... teddy bear?
No. Too simple.
He was mocking me. Smart arse. I snarled, striving to flip dramatically away from him. He hugged me tighter.
"Not that. Why did you kiss me?" I snapped, itching to gouge out his pupils. He hummed, as if thinking. As if such a question required thought. "Fuck you," I hissed, before he had adequate time to respond.
His hand trailed up my chest.
"There is a eighty five percent chance Raito-kun wouldn't let me." His voice was low. He was enjoying this.
I halted, startled by this statistic. Wrong. "Try one hundred percent, bastard." The desire for us to converse left. Now I just desired for him to shut the fuck up.
"No. You are becoming attached to me, Raito-kun." I loathed the sound of his clothed legs running up my bare ones, swishing as the sidled up my thighs, toes curling around my ankles. Disgusting pervert!
"Are you delusional? Who could become attached to a lunatic like you?" I shouted, wincing as the echoes burned the tranquillity. He stilled his ministrations, nose touching my abused ear.
"You."
"I hate you!" I whipped my head around, nipping his nose maliciously. He squeaked, rolling off me. Onto the ground.
I laughed heartily, fiendishly. He glared indignantly, rising up to his full height. Apprehension twitched in my intestines. Not good. Not good.
My laugh halted. He reached out. Snatched a handful of hair. I screeched, fumbling at his grip. He fought dirty. Like a child.
"LET GO!"
He complied, relinquishing his hold. I plummeted to the metal. I groaned, turning off my damaged back, shuddering in pain. He bent down, level with my angry glare. He tugged my chin, harshly caressing my lips with his, pulling away leisurely. Claiming me.
I spat in his face.
月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月
"Please, I implore you to locate my son!"
The heavy set man infiltrated my office loudly, smashing his fist against the battered door for the fifth time this week. He appeared to have trouble comprehending that I was required for were more significant issues. Such as the Kira case. Kira was a mass murdering organisation, though A was sure it was a singular person. They'd been executing criminals via heart attacks lately. A was convinced they were in Japan, and had released FBI agents to investigate certain suspects. Raye was out there now.
I'd glanced at the Yagami case. Nothing more than an absent youth. He may have eloped, for all that was known. The 'crime scene' was devoid of evidence. His father was absolutely distraught, though.
"Yagami-san," I murmured patronisingly, my calm voice conquering his agitated one, " Other cases require my immediate attention. There's millions of detectives in Tokyo. Choose–"
"You're the best!" He intervened, pleading. True. I'd been trained as an FBI agent, and had recently quit. I wasn't supposed to work anymore – my fiancée fretted about me. But I enjoyed my work. "Please, Misora-san, I'll do anything… pay anything. Just… help me locate him." I massaged my forehead, exhaling lightly. He stood, panting, over the desk. His fingers frisked nervously across its surface, waiting for my inevitable denial. Why couldn't he unearth his son? He was a cop.
He'd probably tried.
"I'll… examine some leads…" He gazed unwaveringly into my glare, untrusting. I glanced to my calendar, scheduling my afternoon for 'Raito Yagami'. Maybe he'd desist from this needless badgering if I interviewed a few family members – made certain that there was no new evidence to be discovered. The quicker I was done with this, the more time I would have assisting my fiancée. "If you tell me the addresses of those connected with this case, I'll visit them."
He visibly relaxed, slumping against my desk, mussing my neat file arrangement. I scowled. He shifted rapidly. "Thank you so, so, much Misora-san. Everything my police force could find is here – including names and addresses. Statements as well." He thrust a file at me. I grasped it. It was already worn - He was a dedicated father.
Yagami-san backpedalled out of the room, bowing to me, murmuring praises and thanks as if Raito's safety was guaranteed.
It would be difficult to disappoint him.
月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月
I peeped down at the crumpled address - Teru Mikami's house. He'd apparently been with Yagami-san's girlfriend, Takada-san, all evening. I'd already visited the distraught girl. She'd barely noticed Yagami-san's disappearance at the time, believing him to have left early; and now was extremely guilty. Mikami was her alibi, and she his; though neither of them fit the typical 'kidnapper' profile.
I tracked across the lawn, shaking snow from my shoulders. The sky was dark, ominous. Just like yesterday. And the day before. I missed the sun keenly, loathing this oppressive winter. My padded fingers burrowed into the Mikami's apartment button. His tense voice rang out in the numb frost. "Yeah, this is Teru… who is this?"
"Hello, I am Naomi Misora, I'm investigating the circumstances in which Raito Yagami disappeared. I was wondering if you'd talk to me about what happened from your perspective." I flicked shiny black hair into my hood, cuddling my body. He paused. Seconds past, snow piling on my shoulders. Why was he hesitating? Perhaps-
"Uh, yeah. Just give me a minute. I need to get dressed."
"Sure," I replied, brows furrowed suspiciously. That silence had seemed like more than embarrassment. Why wasn't he dressed at one in the afternoon? Perhaps-
I chuckled to myself. Could never shake my suspicious FBI nature. Silly, overwrought imagination. Mikami-san's voice crackled across to me.
"Come up, the gate's open."
"See you soon," I replied, boots trekking across the slippery snow. It was a brief walk to his apartment. Before long I was outside his door. I knocked briskly, hearing footsteps. Mikami-san opened the door, all pervious nerves gone. I'd imagined it, then. It wouldn't be the first time.
"Hi, Misora-san, come through… sorry about the mess, I wasn't expecting visitors!" He laughed charmingly, leading me into his completely spotless household. Unusual for a man in his twenties. I glanced around, noting nothing of importance, and trailed Mikami-san into a largish area, coated in beige carpet and cream walls. Two aesthetic, brown armchairs were in the centre, surrounding a flat screen television. Mikami slumped down into one of them, indicating for me to copy. "Sorry, I can't offer you coffee or tea, I forgot to buy some when I went shopping this morning." I removed my jacket, depositing it across my knees. The room was warm, more so than outside. I was too toasty in my insulated coverings.
"It's fine," I smiled pleasantly as he sat up. His hands rested against his knees, clasped together as he surveyed me. He was immaculately dressed for someone caught unprepared. His torso was clothed in a pin striped, buttoned up dress shirt, and grey slacks covered his legs. He was even wearing black socks. Why put on socks to greet an unexpected visitor? Especially in such a warm house. Strange. "So… is there anything in particular you want to know?"
"Just start from the beginning."
I always commenced with mandatory questions, it usually pacified witnesses. Though Mikami-san was already quite tranquil. I leafed through Yagami-san's file, pinpointing Mikami-san's previous statement.
"Well, I met Takada, who attends my university, at Misa Amane's party about thirty minutes in. So at ten thirty. She and I were talking when Raito Yagami approached us with alcohol-"
"Why wasn't Yagami-san with Takada-san?" He ran fingers through his hair, composed. Used to the interrogating?
"Takada said they'd divided up when she noticed me. Anyway, we were all conversing when Misa Amane approached. Misa apparently fancies herself in love with Raito, so he made a speedy departure. He shouted something, but I couldn't hear him. Then Takada and I danced. It wasn't until later that it registered Raito had never returned."
"What made you notice?" This question shocked him - his smile vanished, eyes widening. For good reason too, he hadn't elaborated this in the original statement.
"Well, I personally wasn't aware of it, but as the party was winding down – at around two – Takada exclaimed 'Where's Raito?' and well, it was inconceivable to not notice that." He chuckled, unperturbed that we were discussing a youth who'd been kidnapped and most likely murdered. It was distasteful. I nodded, lifting the corners of my lips. There was something sour about him. I couldn't place it, but it made my hairs prickle and spine stiffen.
"What did you do then?"
"We hunted around, Takada-san becoming more frantic. But his car was gone, so we surmised that he'd gone home. I then took Takada-san back to her apartment, and arrived here." He shrugged, leaning comfortably into the chair. I jotted this down beside the original statement. Though it was nothing unexpected.
"Do you have proof that you went straight home?" He instantly tensed, peering to my left before returning his gaze to me. Had I struck a nerve?
"Kenta, he's below me, and I had a conversation on his floor that night. He's my alibi." He began to fiddle with a small graphite pencil that had been resting on a side table. He was fidgety – desired for me to leave, perhaps. Best not delay too much. Though my intuition urged me to wait.
"Is there anything else?" I gnawed my lip, a bad habit I'd developed after a case, over five years ago. He shook his head, and I mopped sweat from my forehead with my fingers. He seemed uncomfortable as well. Why have the heat up so high?
"Do you mind… if I could use your bathroom?"
"Sure…" He appeared reluctant, it was compromising for me as well. Nevertheless, there was no harm in having a little survey. "It's down the corridor there, I'll be through here," he indicated vaguely, rising awkwardly. I peered down the steamy passage. The apartment was enormous, I was stunned he didn't have a roommate. How much did it cost?
"Do you like it hot?" I asked, astonishing both him and myself. His shoulders seized, nervous energy consuming him. "I uh, I was outside just before you came. It's cold out there so…" He lifted one shoulder, releasing it instantly then bustling off, out of sight. I frowned, moving through the wooden corridor toward a door clearly marked 'Toilet'. But he hadn't been dressed? And he had no snow on him, wasn't even damp?
Was there more to Teru Mikami than I'd deduced? Maybe he was associated with Raito Yagami's 'disappearance'. I could just be paranoid… I should explore his alibi.
月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月とエルと月
There was one more place to investigate – the last known whereabouts of Raito Yagami. It was evening when I arrived - the sky a hideous, threatening grey. I'd eaten dinner with Raye at a romantic French restaurant. Raye had been assigned to trail a few students that A suspected. Strangely enough, he'd been following Sayu Yagami, Yagami-san's daughter. Raye believed A was being utterly idiotic. I had more faith than he did.
I paused instantly, apprehensively, at the prison entrance.
It felt like… I was being observed.
I tucked my crimson fingers into heavy pockets, subconsciously shielding myself. My eyes snapped around in their sockets as I breathed deeply. I'd never been wrong with these instincts.
I walked purposefully forward, pivoting my neck at the sound of footsteps…
…Behind me?
There.
A black haired male was striding toward the gate, hands in his pockets. Hunched. A gigantic white shirt masked his torso, ripped virtually all over. There were blooming bruises down his arms. I flinched. Abuse? Or a gruesome fight? He appeared to be under seventeen – however that could be due to his oversized outfit and apparent malnourishment.
"Hey!" I shouted, rotating, jogging to catch him.
He ignored me, angling away. I scowled.
The sky poured forth its freezing contents.
Rain slithered down my skin.
I ran, my hand out. He stumbled along swiftly. Turning the corner.
Dammit!
He'd vanished by the time I reached it, of course.
Hidden in the hazy rain.
Who was that child? What was he doing here? Why didn't he listen?
Guilty conscience?
I sighed, kicking at snow, yanking my hood further over my features.
Why did it feel like he was important to this case?
