9.
The stares occurred less often, Tamaka noted, as she walked down the busy afternoon street. It took a little over a week for the stares to cease, but eventually the people began to forget her face, or chose to no longer care. Tamaka had to admit, she was a bit thankful for that; it was hard to do anything under the pressure of constant prying eyes.
Tamaka twisted her braided hair, eyes catching a glimpse of a television screen through a pub window. It also helped that the 'Midnight Monster' had paused his actions. It's been nearly a week since his last attack, allowing everyone to breathe again-including Tamaka's parents.
It took much convincing from her father to allow her to go out by herself, but somehow she had managed. With a strict curfew, that is. 8:00pm was pushing it for him… But Tamaka decided not to push any further. In some ways, the situation seemed to be tougher on him; there was no new lead on the Monster, which left her father a little more than frustrated.
A glimpse of black cloth caught Tamaka's attention, causing her to pause in mid step. She half expected to see a wicked smirk facing her, but was only greeted with a blurred crowd.
Orihara hadn't made an appearance, either. Mr. Crawford was away on business, or so her mother had mentioned, leaving Tamaka to have nothing but homework.
A ray of sun peaked through twin buildings, shining down on Tamaka's cheeks. She grinned. Maybe the chaos in her life was only a momentary thing.
Shizuo's eyes were focused on the drifting clouds when Tom suggested they stop for some food, most likely the cause of him spotting Simon. Tom had promised a while ago that they would stop by, and if he didn't hold up to that honor, he would have Simon to deal with. Well, Shizuo would have Simon to deal with.
The large man spotted Shizuo first. "Good afternoon Shizuo, Tom! Want sushi?" Tom smiled.
"Yes, actually; we were just talking about getting some Russian sushi," Simon's eyes lit up, as did his large smile.
"A good day for Russian sushi, too! We have a special deal; dine for two for price of one." Shizuo took the flyer that Simon extended to him, his eyes never once glancing at the colorful paper. "How are you doing today, Shizuo? You look upset," like usual, Simon was correct. The blonde's cigarette snapped between his teeth, the burnt end falling to his feet, while he spat out the opposite end.
"This one guy made me do a lot of work today; damn idiot thought he could get away by going into the sewers."
Tom's chuckle caused Shizuo to narrow his eyes, "Shizuo had to get his hands a little dirty today, so he's not in the best mood right now… This is why I decided to treat him to some Russian sushi; a reward for getting the money back."
Simon opened his mouth to speak, but was distracted before he could speak. Shizuo glanced to the right of himself as Simon said,
"Hey, Tam-a-ka, want Russian sushi?" A brunette girl was standing beside him, wearing a very familiar school uniform. His brows creased; she looks so familiar. Her eyes were fastened solely on Simon. "I'll treat you today, as a welcome back gift," Welcome back? Pink dusted her cheeks as she inched closer to Simon, trying to get out of the crowds pull. She pulled her bag closer to her body, awkwardly playing with the strap.
"Oh, no that's fine Simon; I couldn't accept that," where have I seen her?
"Oi," brown eyes flashed to meet covered ones[1], "have we met before?" Shizuo could see her hesitation as she looked him over; she most likely knows who he is, and is afraid. It wasn't a new thing to him; more of a daily thing, really. Maybe he had seen her talking to Simon before…
Tom calmly cut in, "you most likely saw her on the news," Shizuo glanced at Tom, who directed his gaze to the short High-Schooler. "You're Tamaka Orin, right?" His eyes widened for a split second, lips falling into a loose frown. When the girl nodded Shizuo found himself giving her a once over. Tamaka Orin, the girl who was recently attacked-a 'hero', or so the media claims... He expected her to be… tougher. The girl in front of him looked almost timid; defiantly not a professional fighter. An image of her fighting against the 'Midnight Monster' caused a grin to pull at his lips; he would have paid to see that match.
Still, Shizuo felt as if he'd seen her before that. He dismissed the thought when he put a fresh cigarette between his lips, taking a long drag to calm his nerves.
"Anyways, I should get going. Thanks for the offer, Simon, but I'm supposed to meet someone right-"
A shrill screech came from down the road, capturing the attention of everyone nearby. Shizuo's eyes fluttered from Tom to the quickly-gathering crowd, which swarmed around the mouth of an alley. Shouts filled the air, and immediately faces grew panicked, including the smaller one that neared Shizuo's side. Tamaka's entire body took the stiff shape of iron, and her jaw clenched as she watched the reactions of the people around them. Shizuo could only imagine what her instincts were telling her; but that wouldn't be possible-that killer only attacks at night.
"Someone call the Police!"
Shizuo's eyes narrowed. Fighting against what his gut told him, Shizuo pushed forward, surprised to feel bodies brushing his as he got closer to the source of attention-it must be a hell of a mess to allow people to forget who he is. Shizuo didn't have to get that close to see the scene before him; he got a clear view of the body from above the civilians head's. His own limbs tensed upon the scene, his stomach twisting. It was a young girl, like the other victims, with long brown hair. She was petite with slightly shredded clothing, hanging at angles that would just allow the prying eyes to catch glimpses of clean slits in her flesh. But that wasn't what made Shizuo pissed. What really got to Shizuo was the way both hands were pinned above her head, a clean blade holding them in place against the wall.
Shizuo had seen enough gang related crimes to know that it was a message; even with all the damage, Shizuo couldn't spot a drop of blood, meaning that her hands weren't pinned during the attack-it was deliberate. The only remaining question is, 'who is the message for?'
Shizuo's eyes tore from the body to the floor, finally noticing his fallen cigarette. A pair of feet, which were positioned right beside his, quickly took off. Shizuo was just able to make out a brown flickering braid, which bobbed its way through the thick crowd. He watched Tamaka until her fleeing form turned a sharp corner, disappearing from sight.
Under his suit, tie and badge, Haru Orin felt like a wreck. His tongue flicked over his dry lips as he focused on his cell phone, which contained some photos of the most recent crime scene. He had no leads, and the kills weren't going away. Not only were the original patterns changing, but the killer had gotten bolder. Or more desperate.
His fingers tightened around the phone as he flipped onto the last photo; he could feel himself getting nauseous. The knife was the first thing he had noticed-even before the body. He recognized the costly details like it were on his radar; but what father wouldn't notice his child's cherished object at the scene of the crime? It was a gift he had given Tamaka the year before, for her birthday. She had said that most of them were missing after the night she was… Well…
"Ah, Mr. Orin! Sorry, but someone held me up," Mr. Orin's eyes flicked to his late partner, who really didn't look all that apologetic. "Can I get you something to drink?" Mr. Orin politely shook his head, feeling a bit awkward with the entire situation.
"No, thank you. I brought my own."
He watched as Mr. Orihara glided over to a coat rack, where he hung his black jacket. "Well, what about a game of darts?" Mr. Orin paused; it was subtle, but he had noticed the way Mr. Orihara's lips curled upon the mention of the game, trying his best to suppress a smirk. The very mention of the game seemed to hold amusement to him, like a one-sided joke. Very suddenly, Mr. Orin felt unbearably uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.
"I actually have to make this meeting short since I have another place I have to be later on," this time Mr. Orihara didn't bother to suppress his smirk; the man moved to behind his desk, never once hiding the bounce in his step. It wasn't hard to tell that he loved the position the two were in.
"How is Tama-chan, by the way?" Mr. Orin clenched his jaw, "I'm assuming you're here because of the 'Midnight Monster' case, because the entire situation has gotten very personal, right? This time your daughter was involved, which is most likely what gave you the push to come to me for help… You've never felt a need to before." Mr. Orihara watched as Mr. Orin shifted, forcing slow breaths-it wasn't hard to tell that the man was trying to calm his anger. A vein was starting to flex near his temple.
Mr. Orin ran his thumb over the screen of his phone, before pocketing the device. Mr. Orin cleared his tight throat, forcing away the resentment that tried to leak through. "I haven't called for your assistance because I have never needed it before; but seeing how out-of-hand this situation is becoming, I decided to put aside my pride and consult with you. Despite your… tainted… reputation, you are known as a very good information broker, which is the sole reason as to why I have chosen to ask for your assistance."
There was no pause from Mr. Orihara's side, "Hm, my apologies then; I just thought it was an extreme coincidence that you decided to sought me out on the very day that the 'Midnight Monster' came out of hiding! Buut, I must be over-reading things~"
Mr. Orin made a 'humming' noise as he took a needed gulp of black coffee, momentarily wishing it were something with a better bite. "Are you going to help me or not, Mr. Orihara?" his eyes flashed as he leaned forward onto his elbows, causing Mr. Orin to tense the slightest.
"Of course! I will fax you any information that I find regarding the 'Midnight Monster'."
And that was all it took for Mr. Orin to start towards the door, tossing his empty take-out cup into the garbage. "Yes, yes, that'll be very helpful-remember to fax it to my home; I won't bother to give you the number since I'm assuming you already know it."
A coiled smirk was his response, which is the only thing that caused Mr. Orin to pause in the doorway of Mr. Orihara's office. "Izaya," his tone had noticeably dropped, "I can't thank you enough for what you did for Tamaka. However… Stay the hell away from her for now on."
His words hung in the air, even after the door sealed shut and his footsteps receded. For a moment all Izaya could do was stare at the door, his mind pondering over what had made Mr. Orin say such a thing. Well, there were many reasons as to why, but why so bluntly? And after just asking for his assistance.
Izaya's eyes trailed to the red and black dart board that hung opposite of him, allowing a grin to break across his face. Even from the great distance between him and the board, he could see the long imprints that the throwing knife had left. Erratic laughter filled the room, banishing the silence that Mr. Orin had left.
"Humans are so entertaining!"
Tamaka clutched her knees to her chest, fingers digging into her calves as she stared at the computer screen, examining the way Kiko's face paled. She slightly bit at her lip, "You should have seen it Kiko… It was… awful." Her stomach rumbled, begging for food that Tamaka knew would not hold down. It wasn't the body itself that sent crippling knots to her stomach-it was the principle. It was back. It was back and hunting in daylight. And it had been close to her; just down the street, in fact.
"Kiko… I think it's… Do you think it's after me?" she roughly shook her head, "It used my knife! I've seen reports and gangs do the exact same thing when they're trying to scare their rivals."
Tamaka realized then, upon seeing Kiko shift uncomfortably in her bed at home, that she shouldn't have shared such details. But who else would she be able to talk to, if not her best friend? Kiko is the one person who could relate to her, because Kiko had also been the 'Midnight Monster's' victim at some point.
Tamaka moved so that she sat cross legged, toying with an elastic as she watched Kiko rub the top of her left hand-a sign of her concentration. Finally her hazel orbs looked up to the webcam, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she said, "the only reason it would target you is because you're strong; and you are. And you have my support, 'kay?" Tamaka watched as Kiko interlocked her hands, "I also trust that your parents are going to put that freak behind bars. They've handled tricky cases before, and I'm sure that they'll totally catch this jackass before he can do anything else."
Kiko sounded so sure. It was the first time Kiko sounded completely confident with herself; and maybe she's right. The Orin family has always been triumphant when it comes to battling crime; why would this be any different? The chilling grip on her stomach lessened with that thought in mind. Tamaka inhaled and exhaled. Then she smiled, forcing a weak laugh.
"You're right, and who knows, maybe it's a good thing because I really do want those throwing knives back!" Kiko chimed with her, causing the atmosphere to lighten. They would be okay; Tamaka had faith in that. Hopefully.
!Bing!
A box popped up in the corner of Tamaka's laptop; [1 new message from ]
"Hey, I have to go," she waved to the camera, "I'll see you tomorrow morning, though." And with not much more to say, she exited off her live chat and clicked on the popup, forcing away the sudden tiredness that nagged at her muscles.
The email was short, and at the moment, neglected to bring up any emotions-other than annoyance. It was something about Mr. Crawford wanting to know any new updates, which seemed absurd since Tamaka never actually agreed to help him with his Orihara problem.
Her computer mouse hesitated over the 'reply' button. Sigh. The computer beeped as she clicked the button, and quickly flashed to a blank text box, to which she started to type:
Mr. Crawford,
I understand that Izaya Orihara is a very dangerous man, and I agree that he should be behind bars for the crimes he has committed-I'm sure that soon you will find evidence that will make this happen. However, I cannot help you with this. I do not feel comfortable with being in this position, so I will be mailing the folder back to your office tomorrow morning. I'm sorry but I can't get involved in this.
I hope that you understand,
Tamaka Orin
She shut her computer screen the moment the email sent, and allowed her body to melt into the mattress. With one hand she fiddled with the lamp's switch, while simultaneously pulling her quilt up to her armpits. With a faint click, darkness engulfed the small room. The darkness and silence felt refreshing. There were no noises from beyond her bedroom; only the distant sounds of vigorous night life five stories below her suite.
Tamaka enjoyed the night for that reason; she was able to just lay there and breathe-there was no reason for her to get up or worry. Even with the latest incidents, Tamaka felt content with the night.
Half conscious, she hardly noticed the buzzing of her cell phone-what part of her that did notice chose to ignore the call.
All that mattered was sleep.
That's… All…
I…
Need… Tamaka shot up with a suddenly voltage, her muscles humming with energy. Immediately she felt something was off; she felt misplaced. Surrounding her were tall, white walls. It felt like her room, but didn't. Those walls are so tall. Tamaka slowly followed the height of the wall until her neck was craned as far as it could be; her eyes met an exact copy of her own, only this pair was looking down at her.
A reflection?
Tamaka cocked her head to the side, confused when her reflection did not mimic her. All it did was watch, using a pair of duller-looking brown eyes. It was then that Tamaka noticed that her reflection had refused to wear the same clothing as her, too. Her reflection wore a sheer, black dress, which fell down to her ankles, tight fitting all the way down.
"You're not much of a reflection at all," Tamaka's words echoed throughout the elongated room, causing the flimsy structure to groan, as if the words were strong enough to tear the building down. Powdered plaster started to sprinkle down, and small cracks could be seen crawling up the white walls. Tamaka eyed them wearily.
It was during that commotion that the reflection did something very odd. It slowly stood on the bed, limbs stiff as cold rubber, and grinned. But her smile was tainted; it wasn't the kind of smile someone shows when they feel light and fluffy. It's the kind you would imagine a very bad person wearing, or the type you smile when finally seeing your worst enemy crumble.
The reflection lifted a stiff arm, gradually outstretching her hand towards Tamaka, fingers spread like she was trying to grasp something just out of her reach. Tamaka suddenly felt very cold. Her reflection's lips moved slowly, lips forming words, but emitting only silence. Still, even with her words unheard, she was able to grin.
[1] I tired to avoid saying 'sunglasses', so I tempted to use a different way to explain them…. And Failed.
Authors Note: ^^Just in case you were a bit confused, the last bit was Tamaka's dream.
Dun Dun Daaaaa. What do you guys think about this chapter? Mr. Orin (Tamaka's father), has struck a business deal with Izaya, the MM is starting to attack during the day, and Tamaka has just had a real weird dream…. What will come out of this? Well, I guess you'll have to keep reading ( ;
BTW, next chapter is meant to build Izaya and Tamaka's relationship. It's allllll about Izaya in that one~ Thanks for the reviews! I'm aiming to start getting 2 per chapter. Please help me reach this goal!
