Chapter Twelve ; Bloodied Hands
It was a late night and his feet were dragging. A disgruntled, middle-aged man who had just finished working overtime – to pay the bills, to keep the roof over his head. His face was haggard as he trudged up a flight of stairs, then another, all the way to the third floor. Eyes weary and worn with exhaustion, he barely registered a shadow slipping out of sight just to the side of him.
Breathing out a sigh, he reached into his pocket to fish out his keys. He was positive they were there, somewhere. Yet he stopped halfway, his eyes widening a fraction as he tested the knob of his door. It gave under his touch, but he could have sworn that he had locked it.
And while he could not shake off his own suspicions, he still entered. There was only darkness to greet him. Naively, he assumed that he must have just forgotten to lock the door. He did not stop to consider the fact that he had never been so negligent before. In his usual paranoia, he always double-checked. But he had worked a double shift just to rake in a little extra money, so he did not have enough energy to stop and think.
"Gotta have the gas bill in by Monday," he mumbled under his breath as he nudged the door shut behind him. Then, gaze almost glued to the floor, he wandered into the main room after dropping his shoes off in the entryway.
It was there, when he flipped the light on, that he stopped. Just a short distance in front of him, standing in the middle of the room, was a hooded figure. At first he blinked rapidly – sure that it was just a part of his active imagination. But the person was still there. He gulped.
"I'll call the police," he threatened hollowly. His voice arched with fear.
With slender fingers, the person reached up and pulled the hood away from their face. He blanched as he recognized the features of a young girl – blue eyes and hair dark as coal. Suddenly he knew why his door had been unlocked. Terrified, he took a stumbling step backward.
"Y-You... Y-you're..." His tongue lulled about uselessly in his mouth as he stuttered with his words, unable to coherently string a sentence together to throw at her – an excuse that would keep her from pulling a gun on him.
But she already had, aimed right at his chest, though it did not resemble any gun he had ever seen before. Then she spoke. "Masayuki Ise... right?" Not that it seemed like she really need to confirm his identity, it was his apartment, after all. "Let's play a game..."
His eyes were unfocused as he stared at her, panting heavily. The man's heart was racing, beating loudly like a drum in his ears. It made it difficult to hear her, harder to process what it was that she was saying. But he understood why she was there all too well. "W- Wait!" he tried to protest.
She ignored him. "You should be familiar with it. Cat and mouse, one chases the other. Only this time I'm the cat and you're the mouse. So I'll give you a chance to run. On the count of three, okay? One..."
"Wait a moment!" He threw his hands up defenselessly, trying to get her to calm down.
"If you don't want to die now then run. Two..."
Without wasting another moment to try and dissuade her, since he could clearly see that she was not in a position to be swayed by any manner of reason, he raced to the front door. As he managed to slip on his shoes and lurch out of the apartment, he heard her sound off the word three. The echo of her footsteps, although slow compared to his, sent adrenalin rushing through his veins. He took off toward the steps and descended them in a hurry, constantly glancing up to see whether or not she was following.
Like a phantom descended from another world, she slowly drifted out of his apartment, gun raised and finger poised to shoot. Her gaze followed him from beneath the hood that she had pulled back up over her head.
While his legs worked automatically, though in his clumsiness and haste he nearly fell several times, the man fumbled for the cell phone in his pocket. He flipped it open and tried desperately with his fat fingers to dial the emergency number, but in his desperation to escape, it fell out of his hands and then dropped through the opening between the cement stairs, plummeting down toward the ground. When it collided with the cement, it shattered, no doubt useless upon impact.
Had he not been so tired, so panicked – he might have thought to knock on a neighbor's door, to scream for help. But it was not until he reached the bottom of the stairs and the parking lot that he thought to do so. Too late by then, because he was stopped prematurely from darting over to the landlord's office when a shadowy figure stepped in front of him, blocking his path. The person had a gun, which they pointed at Masayuki.
The girl came up behind him not long after, though he was relieved that she did not fire upon the sight of him. She seemed to delight in the game, in his expression of complete and utter fear as his entire body trembled.
"Please don't kill me," he told her with blubbering lips.
"It's not fun to be cornered?" she asked innocently, though it was more than obvious that she did not care to hear his answer. "That's what you did to me. Chased me down until I could not run anymore, shot me until my legs wouldn't move, until I felt like I couldn't breathe, to the point I thought I would be dead."
Tears of desperation started forming in his eyes. "I- I'm sorry," he apologized uselessly. "I... I swear to you, I... It wasn't because I wanted to!"
The girl seemed skeptical, although his words gave her momentary pause. "What... do you mean?" She promptly shook her head. "No, you can't fool me. I know it was you. What kind of excuse are you trying to feed me?"
Still, he saw his opening in her hesitancy to completely dispel what he was saying, so he explained himself. "I know... You might not believe me, Miss... But honestly, I was threatened into it. I don't want to hurt anyone, honest."
"Don't listen to him," the other figure told her. It sounded like a boy's voice – another teenager. "Just kill him. You know you want to. Even if he didn't do it willingly, he is still the one who killed you."
His brows furrowed. "W-What? I didn't... I mean, you lived. I heard – you were in the hospital..." Overwhelmed by it all, he collapsed onto his knees, crashing down against the pavement. "P-Please... I just didn't want them to come after my family... Or to lose my job..." They were poor excuses. Even he seemed to recognize that. He slapped his hands over his face as he sobbed from the guilt, from his own fear.
"I don't want to kill him if he didn't... I mean, if he didn't orchestrate it..." Her voice trailed off momentarily.
"Stop making excuses. He killed you. Now it's his turn to die."
Despite her companion's ushering, she still hesitated. Then another question came his way. "If not you, then who? Who threatened you? If you tell me that, then I'll spare you." Although, since he planted the seed of doubt, it seemed like she might have spared him anyway.
Wet cheeks gleaming in the dim moonlight as the man peeked out from behind his hands, he said, "I don't know. I-I'm sorry... It was... All I know is that it was someone from the corporation. The message was passed to me anonymously and there was proof that my family might be endangered... That's why I... Really, I didn't mean you any harm – I didn't want to..."
"Kill him already. You heard what you needed to. Did he really seem like he didn't mean you any harm when he purposefully waited for you and chased you down? You told me about it – he showed no compassion or mercy. Quit being a hypocrite. You said you could handle this."
She paused to take a slow inhale, as though hardening herself to Masayuki's pleading. "You would not have spared me, had I said the same things... Right? And you saw me. You knew I was in high school. You waited outside for me to come. You shot me several times, saw me bleeding to death. That didn't stop you, did it? What were you thinking about? Were you thinking about how you could keep your job then? How your family would be okay? Or were you thinking about how guilty you felt as you terrorized a young teenage girl? You didn't think about that, did you?"
The barrage of questions caught him off-guard. He stuttered to respond but it was too late. The girl already knew the answer, had always known the answer. Regardless of whatever excuse he made, true or not, he was still her murderer. So she pulled the trigger after aiming the barrel at his head. There was an echo in the night, a haunting one that made his breathing stop, if only temporarily.
Then he let out sort of a dry, relieved chuckle. "Ah, so that's... Only a toy gun." But then he felt pressure welling up in his cheeks, his chin, his tongue... And his whole skull felt like it was bloating. In pain, he started writhing, letting out a short-lived scream that was prematurely cut off as his head exploded. Blood splashed across the concrete and the clothes of his two assailants – one of them his murderer.
Haruka's entire arm was trembling as she lowered the gun. But even beneath the shadow cast by her hood, there was no remorse on her face. Instead a strange sense of satisfaction that she somehow believed was misplaced. If he was not the true culprit behind it all, then... She took a shaky inhale.
Nishi moved around the collapsed body and came to a stop just in front of her. He reached a hand out and yanked her hood away from her face.
Startled by the motion, she reached to pull the hood back over her face. "I-If someone sees me," she stuttered in panic, more concerned about meeting with the police than the life she had just taken. Strange for someone who had once had such strong morals. But that was what Nishi delighted in – the fact that she had let go of those in favor of her goal. The fact that the look on her face was one of sublime contentedness, not the ruefulness he might have expected.
"Good," he commended her. "Let's go."
Haruka loitered a moment, looking at the now-headless body. She felt a grim sense of accomplishment, as though she had achieved some long sought after goal. Maybe she had, in some way. It did not fully occur to her that the life she had robbed Masayuki of was also one as a father and ex-husband, son to two parents somewhere. Perhaps a brother to a sibling, as well. But maybe it had not occurred to him that she had such significance to other people when he pulled the trigger on her.
So ultimately, even Haruka could not decide where the true guilt could be placed. Was he guilty for ruthlessly chasing her down and shooting her to death? Or was she guilty for coming back from the dead, resurrected by Gantz, and hunting him down without any regard for the possibility that he might have people who cared about him, too?
It was not a black and white matter. And she found that she did not quite care who was to be blamed. Twice sinned, she realized fully that there would be no redemption for her in the end. All that mattered was ensuring that her real self – the person she was a copy of – remained unharmed, able to live a normal life. Haruka thought she could live vicariously through her counterpart that way. After all, she had already been ruined. Innocence tainted by the horrors of Gantz, personality molded by an empty childhood, twisted by terrible experiences as well as Nishi's influence.
She pivoted, sprinting to chase down Nishi and match his pace. They were two dark shadows meandering through the night, unnoticed and forgotten by anyone who seemed to pass them by. The splotches of blood splashed over them were masked, hidden by the black clothing they were wearing. And even if it caught someone's eye by chance, apathy persuaded them to pass off the sight as cosplay.
When they got back to the apartment, sneaking in as stealthily as they could – if only to avoid prying eyes – Nishi immediately ordered Haruka to change wardrobe. He had been gleeful all night, in the best mood she had ever seen. He seemed to delight in the bloodshed, the suspense, and the excitement. For whatever feelings she did have for him, she did not understand him. Even if, subconsciously, she could relate to him.
It was strange how calm – eerie even – that she felt after the murder. She kept raking through the image in her mind, the feeling of the gun in her hand and the trigger as she pulled it. But it did not register as reality. Perhaps a psychological defense mechanism that made her almost blissfully unaware of how terrible a deed she had committed.
Nishi did not take a jab at her for it, though. He just watched her from his computer chair after he had gotten changed... Watched as she went into the kitchen and made them some rice balls to eat. When they sat together in front of the television, listening to the latest news, he kept his eyes glued to her.
It was a strange feeling.
And then came the question that had been lingering on her mind for a while. "What if... He was not just making excuses? What if there is someone else out there that ordered him to come after me? With the few clues that he gave, it's not really enough to go on to know who could–"
"Lure them out," he said in between bites.
Although he acted like it was simple, Haruka knew only one way to lure them out. And she had no intention of putting her real self in danger. "That defeats the purpose," she complained to Nishi in little more than a murmur, not quite wanting to voice her disagreement with him. "If she ended up getting hurt... Unless you mean me?"
"Both," Nishi answered vaguely, and then clarified, "Use Koizumi to lure them out. Take her place once you have confirmed someone is after her and capture or kill them." As he finished eating, he kept his eyes focused on the television, not even pausing to look over at her and evaluate her facial expression.
"That makes sense," Haruka agreed at last. "But there's a core problem... Luring her out to begin with. I can't approach her, she'd be too shocked and scared."
He sighed to himself, as though frustrated that she could not think of the solution as quickly as he could. "I'll approach her." It was obvious though – Nishi had already agreed to help her. It made sense for him to be part of the plan.
"And?" Haruka prompted him, perhaps not purely out of concern but curiosity instead.
Glancing at her sidelong, he said, "You have rice stuck to the side of your face."
Flustered by the comment, she hurried wiped at her cheek to remove it, embarrassed to be seen in such a state. But while her cheeks flushed slightly when he mentioned it, they burned like wildfire when he lifted his hand and pinched the small grain of white rice in between his fingers, lifting it away from the corner of her lips.
"I'll ask her to go out with me."
She immediately assumed that the phrase had a different meaning. "W-what? You can't... The two of you, together... In a relationship..." Haruka almost felt dizzy thinking about it.
Disgruntled by her misinterpretation, he jammed the piece of rice against her forehead where it stuck like adhesive. "Going out after school somewhere. Or did you misunderstand something so simple?" There he was, taking a jab at her again. "Don't over think it, I'm not interested in Koizumi."
Although it almost sounded like he was trying to reassure her, it did little to lift Haruka's spirits. While on one hand she felt a sting of jealousy at the thought of the two of them forming some kind of close relationship, she also felt a little disheartened by his comment. It was almost like an offhanded way of saying that he was not interested in her, either. On one hand she was the same as the Haruka Koizumi who attended school with Nishi, oblivious to the world of Gantz. On the other she was like the other side of the coin, a darkness to the light of her innocent counterpart.
Either way, when Haruka took a moment to think about it, peeling the rice from her forehead, it was silly. That she still entertained having a crush on Nishi in the midst of her goal and all the bloodshed, but she supposed it was in her nature to be foolish. Whether she had overcome the weakness of hypocrisy, no longer clinging to the morals that once bound her, she was still Haruka. A person governed not by pragmatic thinking but by the whims of the heart.
"Or did you mean," Nishi said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts, "That she wouldn't agree to it?"
She eyed him quizzically, as though unsure where that question came from. But Haruka knew well enough from when she was in school that Nishi had been the target of most of the bullies for some time. He was the butt of all of their jokes and harassment, although for the past few months prior to her murder, Haruka remembered his personality had taken an abrupt change. (No doubt from being subjected to the horrors of Gantz as well.)
Nishi probably thought that her protests were because she thought rumors might fly about him and Koizumi, thereby damaging her reputation. And although he normally seemed pretty apathetic toward everything, he seemed somewhat disconcerted by her adamant objections.
"No," Haruka whispered, still unsure about this plan. "If you ask her, she'll definitely agree."
His eyes narrowed at her, perhaps because he was skeptical. Yet his words betrayed his expression, "Then tomorrow we should start on it."
It was decidedly the only option they had. Drawing Koizumi out into the open would no doubt lure those watching her like hawks for a new opportunity to off her. Her guards had probably doubled since the attempted murder, leaving little openings during the weekdays.
"So you'll ask her tomorrow and set it up for this weekend?" she clarified. "Normally my grandfather would probably say no, but she'll probably force the issue since it's you..." As soon as Haruka realized what she was saying – like an indirect confession – she clamped her lips shut.
"We'll have to shake off her guards after you take her place." He ignored what she had said, as though he had not even noticed. And Haruka hoped that he hadn't.
They mapped out their plan together, sorting out the necessary details – even those that seemed insignificant. Haruka would switch with her other self, thereby ensuring that she was the only one in danger. Then she and Nishi would lure out opposition. Even though the person behind it probably would not be among them, they hoped to be able to gather enough information to get a lead as to who could really be behind killing Haruka.
That night was particularly restless for Haruka. Since her issues with nausea, Nishi had been content to allow her to sleep on the bed with him – extremely awkward for her normally, although she was far too preoccupied this time to be conscious of the thought that he was next to her. In her head, she played over the scene of that man's head exploding. It filled her with a sense of satisfaction but an even greater sense of dread. The deed hung over her like a dark cloud, even though she tried her best to deny any guilt.
Finally, as though her ceaseless tossing and turning had at last grated on his last nerve, Nishi turned and snapped at her, "Sleep on the floor if you won't stop." It quieted her immediately as she muttered a humble apology that he only ignored in turn.
Eventually she drifted off. Being beside Nishi seemed to quell the nightmares, at least to some degree. She woke up several times but found sleep once again without too much difficulty. By morning, when Nishi was getting ready for school, Haruka did not feel as refreshed as she might have liked. Nonetheless, she dressed herself – the Gantz suit beneath some clothes that she had borrowed from Nishi.
She was to follow him to school, lingering far enough behind to be little more than a shadow, just to confirm whether or not any suspicious figures were trailing after her other half. The words of that man seemed true enough – he had little to benefit from her death. Most likely, it was one of the company's major shareholders that was after her, hoping to cut off the only obstacle between himself and becoming CEO in place of her grandfather when he died.
On the way to school, shortly after they left the apartment, Haruka trailed Nishi closely. She would put some more distance between them when they were closer. As they walked, their footsteps fell in sync and she lagged only a few paces behind.
"Scared?"
She contemplated it for a moment. "No, I don't think I am. Just anxious."
Those were the only words spoken between them before they continued on their way. When they arrived they were separated by a large gap. Nishi headed through the front gates, leaving Haruka behind for her own task. Before he entered the courtyard, he spotted the other Haruka – Koizumi, as he called her – pulling up in her grandfather's limousine.
Rather than loitering in the open for her, he proceeded to the lockers, pausing in front of his to exchange his shoes. It was there that he stopped to wait, peering sidelong out of the front doors. She was being accompanied by two bodyguards, less than he would have expected – but, all things considered, the school was probably fairly safe. Not the preferable place for someone after her life, not when they had intended to do the deed secretly.
When she entered, Haruka waved the two tall, darkly dressed men off. She said something to them, although Nishi was too far out of earshot to hear what it was. After that, she proceeded with her head lowered. There were dark circles under her eyes. The bullying since she had returned had probably taken a toll on her.
And unsurprisingly, when she stopped at her footlocker, she breathed a sigh. Since her body was blocking the view of it, Nishi could not be sure why. Garbage, he assumed, had been stuffed in there. Or otherwise the shoes had been stolen. He had experienced something similar before.
"Koizumi," he addressed her, pivoting away from his own locker, slamming it shut in the process.
She stiffened upon hearing his voice, but when she turned to see him, there was a look of relief on her face. Her cheeks turned a little rosy as she shakily answered his call, "Y-yes, Nishi-kun?"
It was strange to hear her voice, more high-pitched and softer than the Haruka he knew. Perhaps because what differentiated them was their experiences. Regardless, he posed his intended question as she nervously averted her eyes. "This weekend... Go somewhere with me." It was more of a command and less of a request than it should have been, but Nishi was not one for tact.
It took a moment for his words to register with her, and her face turned an even brighter shade of red. "Ah... I, um... This weekend..." While she was busy mumbling to herself, a few people passed them by, her name carried in their whispers, followed shortly by several derisive chuckles. Haruka bowed her head and frowned. "I... can't. Sorry."
The stone-faced Nishi revealed no manner of surprise, although he had not anticipated a rejection after hearing Haruka's assurance the night before – though it was perhaps in his cynical nature that he had given some expectation that Koizumi would not want to be seen with him.
But then she added, "If you were seen with me... People might think badly of you... S-so..."
He sighed. Haruka and Koizumi were definitely one in the same. "Doesn't matter. I'll meet you Saturday, in the morning. Your house." After clearing that up, he stalked off without another word, hands stuffed into his pockets.
"W-wait!" she called after him, though he gave no pause to hear her out. "Do you even know where my house is...?"
Author's Note: I like the question of morality posed in here - who is wrong and who is right? Is there a right and wrong? Can we be unbiased in judging that? As you can tell I am highly philosophical and considering my major is Psychology... Well, anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed. Trying to speed up Haruka's development. It was gradual at first, but having passed the point of no return now, it can only get worse. Once a person can justify killing, especially someone like Haruka, there is nothing stopping them from completely betraying everything they once believed in. Recently saw a good example of this in a show I was watching. Ironic how Haruka is much the same.
