Outside, the crowds clamored on and on, happily shoving away their past anxieties and troubles. Some were at the concessions, buying whatever they could get their hands on, while others leaned against the tree trunks and observed, smiling at the finally lighthearted mood of the festival. And still, some were waiting in their seats, trying to predict what kind of talent would be displayed tonight, what kind of skill could dazzle the judges without a care in the world. But they all donned an air of informal enjoyment, the usual resentment now relaxing its hold on its victims.
The sun had already set, with nothing more than a shimmer of pink sleeping amongst the evening skies, the rays of the spotlights scattering the particles to mold the already fading illusion. The stars were hard to see, the pollution destroying whatever was left of the mundane daylight, and the clouds were beginning to move in on that lonely rock high up in the air. Yet, in spite of all that, it was peaceful, and enjoyable, and so dreamlike that no one paid any attention to the darkness that lurked beneath.
A darkness that stole itself into the school.
Kaori stood there, mesmerized by Ken's haunting appearance, something that had so elegantly embraced his features. The blade brandished its cool metal in the growing presence of the shadows, and all the while a slow, tiny smile reflected itself across the surface. From a distance, Kaori could almost make out the broadness of his frame, and had it not been for the jubilant screams outside, Kaori would have lost herself in the analysis, trying to decipher what was going on in those incomprehensible thoughts of his.
She found herself moving away from the windows, her gaze never leaving her strange visitor. The quiet was suffocating her in all its psychotic glee, while her eyes fell to the now prominent knife. She narrowed her eyes when Ken removed his hood, adjusting to the newness of Kaori's wariness. He blinked, a teasing smirk dancing on his lips, then looked down. A scarlet blush slightly grazed his face. "Sorry," he murmured. "We were just playing a game."
Kaori stood still. "Are you playing hide-and-seek or something?"
"Sort of. Seems like everyone's too busy to play though."
He sighed and leaned against the doorframe, the apparent tragedy taking its toll on his senses. "I'm bored Tanaka-san." His eyes lazily slid toward her, his eyes seemingly ravaging her body. "Since you're the only one here, why don't you play with me a bit?"
"Sorry." Kaori dismissed, and with that, she turned her heel, and proceeded to walk away from the troublesome teen. She took one step out of the classroom, felt a bone-crushing hand grab her wrist.
"You were always so good."
She was forced back suddenly, the hallway disappearing from underneath her. She cried out when Ken grabbed one of her ponytails, and pulled her toward his chest. His hand laid itself on her stomach, his nails digging beneath her blouse while she squirmed.
Kaori strained against his grip. Her fingers scrambled onto his hand, ripping away the skin until at last, she was clawing at his flesh, desperately trying to get away. All the while, Ken continued his incessant murmuring. "You were so good. You were so young and innocent and beautiful, and you never cared for anyone else besides your own, worthless self-esteem, huh?"
"Let…let go!" she cried.
She was so close she could smell the horrible stench dripping from his body. Her tiny fists began beating at his chest; she opened her mouth, but Ken clamped his hand down, cutting off the rising scream now building up in her throat. "You were good," he growled, "but you were also so cruel. So very cruel. You never looked my way, and never once did you cry for me. You're really cute when you cry, right? You know that, don't you?"
Kaori struggled in his hold, attempting to twist away, though she knew her bones were breaking. His breath trickled down her neck, and at that point, she even felt the hot saliva on her collarbone. She forced her fingernails into his skin, and bit his hand.
Ken grunted, and before Kaori knew it, she was slammed against the floor, the breath hastily escaping from her body. The knife was pressed against her neck, yet she still continued moving. Her eyes were closed, too frightened to look at him.
"Why?" she heard him whisper. She peered through the darkness, and froze. The insanity was painful, so very painful, for Ken had broken down the moment her eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Why? Why why why why why?! Why won't you look at me? Yuki doesn't mean anything to me! You know that, don't you? Stop that! It hurts!"
Kaori kept beating against him with one hand, the other groping around for anything, anything at all. She never let go of his hand, his blood already on her tongue. She felt his fists against her skull, striving in a feral frenzy to beat her into submission. She continued, the muscles in her arm crying out in pain.
Something red had caught her eye then, a red that stuck out even in Kaori's mind. In that moment, she blocked out Ken's saccharine praises, and released herself from the burden of fighting back. Kaori trembled profusely, endeavoring to suppress those horrific images she locked away within her forsaken past; needless to say, her efforts proved useless.
There was blood.
There was blood on her blouse.
Without hesitation, she wrested her legs away from Ken's, and kicked his stomach. She felt the grotesque pressure of his body suddenly leaving hers, and in that second of complete panic, she hastened away from him and rushed out the door.
Hot tears came pouring down her cheeks as she ran. The words brashly entered her mind, the disarray finally possessing her, so much so that whenever her emotions touched it, and the chaos within her senses became little more than primitive. She kept hearing Ken's footsteps chasing after her, his screaming her name bombarding her eardrums. Her body grew colder and colder, and the more she ran, the more tempting it was to listen to the sounds of her heartbeat, the rapid pounding of the adrenaline racing through her system. For a second, she dared look behind her, only to see the black figure slowly gaining on her, moving at inhuman speeds.
The gleam in his eyes made her run faster.
"Tanaka-san!" Ken called insanely. "Where are you going? Let me come to!"
Go away, Kaori answered mentally. She pushed herself farther, trying abandoning that disconcerting lullaby. Go away now, please.
"Tanaka-san! Tanaka-san! Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san Tanaka-san!"
The memories of Sotoba alone was enough to keep Kaori away. Yet, at the same time, she realized she was slowing down. The fatigue was building up in her muscles, and her breathing grew shallower and shallower. The shapes were becoming less distorted, and though she kept urging herself to move faster, she knew that in the end, she couldn't escape.
So once she rounded the corner, she rushed into the girls' locker rooms, shut the door, and locked it. She hid in the velvet shadows, panting heavily as she waited for Ken. Her knees were beginning to give out, so slowly, she sank to the floor, hoping to avoid detection. She heard her stalker's determined violence, as he ran around in his helpless, blindsided obsessions. She saw his shadow from the windows, so she curled into a tight ball and willed herself to vanish. She covered her ears, kept herself from shaking.
"Tanaka-san? Tanaka-san!" Ken screamed helplessly. "Where are you Tanaka-san?! Did you want to play hide-and-seek too?!" A few more moments of silence, then she heard his voice again which was, fading in the distance. "That's fine!" he continued. "We don't need those bastards anyways! So come out Tanaka-san! Come out, come out wherever you are!"
Kaori never looked up. Her eyes were shut, her knees against her legs, as she tried to undo the horror of the night. In her mind, she was still running, trying to get away from the desires plaguing her. Her brain refused to think of anything else, and seemed eager to dwell on the prospect that Ken…that Ken…
She wanted to fight back.
She did.
But she was just too tired to think of anything else.
She din't hear Ken's voice again, nor did she hear anyone else pass by. Cautiously, Kaori opened her eyes again, and straightened herself, attempting to, at least, calm herself down. She leaned her ear against the door, pondering on whether or not it was safe to come out. She bit her lip, the cold sweat dropping to the floor. She clenched her fists, but dared not to raise them, knowing full well one subtle movement will cause the light to give her away. She tried standing, but her legs refused to do so.
Finally, she heard footsteps.
They were trudging toward the locker rooms, in all their tense agony. They were crying out, mourning, peering through their vibrations to see if there was someone as lonely as they were, if someone was as sick as they were. Kaori blinked, twisting her body as her eyes bored the surface of the door. There was no thought in her mind, no dream she could escape to, no plan she came up with to escape this nightmare.
But she saw herself rise, both hands gripping the knob of the door. Her fears began ebbing away, while the silence continued on, its poetry wrapping around that fateful remembrance. The corpse of her father tortured her for so long, and it her no good to dwell on it. But for some reason, she couldn't help but think of him, of his red eyes and long fangs, of the betrayal she felt when she realized that he never stayed in the ground like he should. And the abnormality of those thoughts was what led her to think of Megumi.
Megumi, her very best friend.
Megumi, who ruined it all.
In an instant, the girl readied herself. Kaori was simply going to slam the door on Ken, and when he was knocked out, she would grab the knife and run, run as far away from here as possible. She would report him. She would make sure he never came to school again. She, along with Akira and Mr. Yuuki, would be safe from him, free to live in any way as they pleased. She could do anything she wanted, anything she wished, as long as Ken was out of the way.
She wasn't going to be that scared little girl again.
Because, unlike Megumi, she was never close to Ken.
The footsteps stopped at the front of the door. She heard a sigh, and Kaori proceeded to unlock the door, the entirety of her body already screaming in frustration. She narrowed her eyes, unknowingly blinking away the tears, as she quieted the increasingly difficult sobs. She tasted the blood in her mouth, and from the reflection of the mirrors, she saw the wound on her neck, a wound that had already stopped bleeding.
She saw the knob turn.
Someone had unlocked it from the outside.
Kaori started to panic, and began to push the door forcefully, determined to escape whatever fate Ken had planned for her.
"Who's there?"
Kaori recognized that voice.
Immediately, she backed away, slowly regaining her surroundings. Her brain started slowing down, and all the adrenaline emptied from her system. From behind that door, she saw a blond man peering from the crack. Kaori felt the relief coursing through her body, the lovely sensation now claiming her body.
The light suddenly came on, and Kaori flinched at the rapid burst of brightness. Yasuhiko, she recalled. His name was Haru Yasuhiko.
His eyes widened at the sight of Kaori. It took the girl a while, before finally, she looked down as well. Though she as still in a daze, she knew full well what she looked like; her face was badly beaten, and her ponytails were a complete mess. There was even a slight trickle of blood at the bottom of her lips. Her blouse was covered in crimson, and even from there, she knew that she had what appeared to be drool on her collarbone. She blinked, attempting to grab hold of some sort of psychotic dread, dread that was already used up when she was running from Ken.
"U-um…" he stammered. "Y…you aren't s-supposed to-"
"Sorry," Kaori whispered automatically. "I'm just a little tired."
"T-that's…okay, I-I guess." Yasuhiko just stood there, shifting his weight from side to side, possibly pondering on what he was supposed to do with her. She could see the hard decision pressing against his mind; on one hand, he didn't want to throw her out, but on the other hand, it looked like he needed to go somewhere. Was he running late for something? Was it important?
She watched him make his way to her, still unsure of what he should do. He crouched down, so that he and Kaori were at eye level. "What happened?" he asked finally.
Kaori simply shook her head. "Just a really…bad prank, that's all."
"Was it Yuki again?"
"N-no. No it wasn't."
But all the same, when Kaori's mind began working again, the explanation did make sense. Ever since Kaori came here, both Yuki and Ken were always together. They shared everything, bullied anyone who got in each other's way, did stuff that normal couples did; they almost even had sex in the classroom. She wasn't at all convinced of their breakup from before; just because Ken decided to "save" her from Yuki, it didn't mean anything to her. Who knows? Maybe they even cocked up this stupid scheme just to humiliate Kaori in front of the entire school.
She was embarrassed, knowing full well just how pathetic she looked.
Yasuhiko sighed after a silent pause, and raked his hand in his hair. "Are you hurt?"
"No. I'm fine."
"Good…" His expression visibly softened, and in that split second, an analytical light bestowed itself in his pupils. "Well, you can't go out like that…"
Yasuhiko stood and went to one of the lockers, Kaori in tow. He opened one of the lockers, and after a few seconds, he managed to unveil a big, black thing from beneath his arms. He turned to her, an unknown anxiety setting in. "H-here's the thing," he said. "Our model just bailed on us, and I'm…on a pretty tight deadline…"
"Last minute thing?" she whispered.
Yasuhiko nodded. "Yeah, exactly. I was um…I was wondering if you…would…"
Kaori took the dress in her arms, careful not to stain the soft fabric with her blouse. The hem draped onto the floor, and never once did her eyes leave it. She looked up at Yasuhiko, and asked if she was allowed to do such a thing. He simply chuckled.
"You better get dressed," he said. "The show will start in ten minutes, so when you're done, just meet me in the courtyard, and we'll walk on stage. Thanks! You are one heck of a lifesaver."
He never gave Kaori time to thank him.
The boy's breathing was incredibly shallow, but there was some warmth left on his skin. The black, hooded jacket he'd worn to conceal the bits of organ had already been discarded, but his red shirt had carefully masked the gore. The knife in his hand was twirling in her fingers, the scent of the blood strangely becoming more and more repulsive; every second spent with it made Megumi want to throw up.
She stood over him, his body lying on the roof of the school. After she perused his unconscious face, she turned away, contemplating on the revolting taste of the liquid. Her emotions were also pitching some kind of fit, all of which were now stirring up an unpleasant feeling from the pit of her stomach.
She had no idea Kaori was going here.
She found him roaming the empty classrooms, all the while singing "Tanaka-san, Tanaka-san" over and over again. He had an obedient look on his face, a look the police officers gave her whenever she issued her orders. He collapsed as soon as Megumi had him in her arms.
His blood wasn't clean, she knew that much. Based from the taste, she could tell he was a heavy drinker. Smoked too, judging from the nicotine embedded within the structures of his hemoglobin. He was a drug addict, but the flavor was so disoriented Megumi wondered if he was suicidal.
So what was someone like him doing in the school anyways?
A majority of the blood in his body wasn't his; the only time someone would do something like this was because they'd lost all hope in living, and in doing so, they decide to destroy everything around them, themselves included. There was nothing worse than being trapped inside a dream, never once breaking out to see the cold reality lying before him. Megumi would have assumed this, and would have left him there, to die on his own. She, after all, didn't need someone else dragging Haru down, nor did she want anything to do with her former friend, Kaori Tanaka.
But that was the thing.
He wasn't entirely in control of his own actions.
Someone had it out for Kaori, someone she didn't know. Though the blood itself was horrible, the enticement was so powerful that even Megumi had a hard time staying away from it. Pleas of I love you, I love you kept echoing throughout her skull, and she almost covered her ears to block out the sound, though she knew it won't do any good. The rage was real, the depression was real…and this boy was the shiki's medium to channel all of that.
Someone as dangerous as that could target Haru…if, of course, he ever got involved with Kaori. And it bothered Megumi, not knowing who this person was. She couldn't focus on the remaining pretenses of the fashion show, nor could she enjoy Haru's debut; she was too absorbed in all of this.
She grunted, and crossed her arms. If Kaori simply hadn't gone to the same school Haru did, none of this would even be happening. Seems she's still just as irritating as she was before. Seriously, couldn't she just grow up?
Megumi heard that unmistakable torrent approaching her, a spiral that mirrored her own, hellish concerns. His attitude was dark, so dark Megumi almost shivered when she turned her back.
Yuuki.
"We need to talk."