Hi Dear Readers! I didn't mean to imply I will make the story melodramatic. That would be out of keeping with the title and expectations. I just meant that some might accidentally slip in because that's where my mind is. I'll try to avoid it, but sometimes my mood gets reflected in the writing even when I'm trying to avoid it. Thanks for the reviews! You guys are way too kind!
If Misaki had ever stopped to consider how she would feel or react if something were to happen to Takumi, and she was being honest with herself, she would have assumed her heart would break into a million pieces. Yes it was cliché but, she reminded herself, she was a high school student and she would have just endured a terrible tragedy. Under such circumstances, having her internal thoughts seem a little cliché should have been forgivable. It wasn't like she was a middle aged adult, with the heart of a kid, writing fan fiction or something. If that were the case, then of course she should be able to come up with a better description, but, fortunately, that wasn't the case because that would just be pathetic.
Now that she was faced with the actually of seeing his lifeless body, her raw emotion was fear. Of course that could have something to do with the short, petite lady wearing a business suit and high heels that was standing a few feet away from the body. Obviously, that itty bitty thing was a cold-blooded, psychopathic murder! Misaki reached for her cell phone, but than thought it would be better to get the hell away from this frightening killer before calling the police. If she made the call now, and was overheard, who knows what type of danger she'd be in. Seeing Takumi dead, she became acutely aware that she had loved the weird, perverted space alien, but that didn't mean she was ready to die to be by his side. Misaki looked to the elevator. It had just left to return to the lobby. Waiting for it to come back would take too long. She scanned the hallways and spotted the stairs. She made a mad dash for them and threw open the door. Apparently, that door made enough noise to alert the assassin and, as Misaki flew down the stairs, she could hear the voice of that scary woman flutter down the stairwell just before the door to the stairs closed. It sounded as if she had said, "Ralph, is that you?"
Misaki continued to run down the stairs, taking four at a time. Why did Takumi have to live on the top floor? Had the guy learned nothing from the World Trade Center tragedy? This was taking forever. She attempted to pull out her cell phone as she was fleeing, but as soon as she'd freed the device from her pocket, she observed that the cell phone reception within the stairwell was essentially non existent. She needed to get to the to the first floor.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally burst through to the lobby. She was panting and exhausted and probably had drawn the attention of everyone in the room. She didn't really care, of course. This was her life on the line and safety was her chief concern, but she had spent years worrying over making a scene and her body automatically took in her surroundings to see who was watching her. It was simply a reflex. There were an excessive amount of crates in the lobby, but there weren't many people. Still, Misaki felt a surge of gratitude that she had instinctively taken a look around because the suit guy from the elevator was standing in front of the mail slots collecting up items from… Takumi's apartment! Suit guy was in cahoots with tiny suit girl! Suit guy was probably Ralph. Crap, crap,crap,crap,crap. She couldn't make the call here either. She turned toward the door when Licht leaped from her arms and ran over to one of the crates. Misaki's eyes darted over to Licht and she saw that the crate was labeled "Takumi"! Licht was rubbing against the crate purring like Takumi was actually in the crate. Misaki felt the sharp pain in her heart. Now was not the time to mourn. A torrent of emotions were just being held at bay and it took everything she had to keep it together. Watching poor Licht trying to bond with a box, that happened to contain something belonging to Takumi, wasn't helping her. In fact, it was simply heart wrenching.
Licht, of course knew exactly what was in that crate. It must have been the smell that made her sure. The crate was far too small for Licht to be right, but she knew without a doubt that her adopted father, Takumi, was on the other side of those thin wood slats.
Misaki started walking toward Licht when Ralph's phone rang. "No…no. I'm positive I closed the door" Misaki thought he sounded a little unsure for someone claiming to be so sure. "A witness?" he continued a moment later. "Any idea what this witness looks like?" He paused. "Well the crates are here now. Do you want me to bring those up first?" Misaki looked sheet white. This big guy knew what she'd seen and he was looking for her. Her eyes were wide with fear. Then she heard, clear as day, Takumi's voice telling her not to worry, and everything would be okay. That was the final straw, her mind went blank and she collapsed to the floor.