Chapter 36
It was five minutes after five and she was strolling near the JR Chou Line at Shinjuku Station. That time also marked that it had been a week and still there was no sign of Crawford calling. That man was busy babysitting the damn bimbo again and it hurt her pride, not a little but so much that she thought about taking out her knife and stab every man that he saw in a suit during the rush hour.
The time had come. Fujimiya Ran would die. Her skin prickled at the thought; soon the boy's purposeless life would come to an end and it made her heart leap with joy. It had nothing to do with him being the witness to one of her assignments. It's all about who had the right to get the man. The redheaded bimbo did not even recognize her and the last thing that happened to him must have further clouded his mind too. He must be so sure that no one would be after him now. How wrong he could be. Maybe if she showed him the knife that she had used when she had skinned her prey in the woods, it would refresh his memory. What a wonderful sight it would be to see his pretty violet eyes widen in fear. She loved the smell of fear from her prey. Knowing that it would be the last thing they ever saw at that precise moment and that they would inhale their last breaths. She was like their angel of death... One hell of a drop dead beautiful angel of death. They should be honored, dying at her hands.
As she walked, a woman with a briefcase in her rush knocked her and she staggered a little. "Watch where you're going," she hissed and the woman ignored her and walked faster towards the train platform. Sylvia stared at the woman's back with her eyes fill of hatred; she had the same color as that boy's hair. She felt her blood surging and broiling in her veins, and she walked as fast as she could to match the woman's pace. She wanted to teach that redheaded bitch a lesson. Do not ignore and mess with her…
The ride in the train was suffocating and peoples kept pushing her, now and then she could feel someone groping but she d could not care less, let them grope… But if she found out who it was, don't blame her if their hands went missing. Her eyes were focused on the redhead on the phone, giggling at something that the other person on the other side of the line was telling her that must have been funny. Yes, giggles now bitch! Giggle as much as you want. It will be the last day you do it anyway.
She followed the woman closely, but not close enough for her to sense that she was being hunted. It's an impromptu hunt, something that she had not planned, but she relished it. It could hone her skills. She waited between the thick bushes and the trees, not minding the cold wind and watched with her vigilant eyes in which house the woman was staying. Nobody opened the door for her, meaning that she lived alone. Perfect. There's a coffee shop near where the woman was staying, she could spend her time there while waiting for it to be dark.
The redhead's gonna die-e… the redhead's gonna die-e, she hummed in her head happily.
Breaking and entering was her forte and she was good with it. The house was simple, almost bare, with only a set of sofas and a TV in the hall, a small kitchen and a bedroom with a bathroom attached to it. She studied the house with a lack of interest. She preferred to stay in a big house where children could run along the hallway. My children… with Crawford, she grinned at the thought. They would be as handsome as their father or as beautiful as her.
This house was small and it was suffocating. It reminded her of her old house, the one where she had grown up. She could hear a shower running; it would be fun to kill the woman while she was taking her shower, just like Norman Bates when he killed Marion Crane in that Psycho movie. Well, why not. Life was like a movie itself.
She waited for a few minutes with a knife clutched in her hands and took up a stab posture and entered the bathroom. All she heard after that was a gasp followed by screams of fear and then pain and she screamed along with the woman, mimicking them until she could hear nothing but her own voice. She looked at the slumped body sprawled near the bath tub disinterestedly, but when she saw the wet red hair that was now mixed with the woman's blood; she began to cut it off with the knife.
How she hated redheads!
Ran was seated near the window. It had been a week and he felt stronger. He had learned that Crawford had arranged his family's funeral services while he was still bedridden. There were no tears to cry now, even if he wanted to. His mind was numb and he still thought that he was dreaming. What made him know that it was all reality were his black and blue bruises on the face and his body and the antiseptics that Crawford applied to him every four hours in his nether regions. Crawford must have been disgusted with him; he didn't even want to touch him other than to make sure that he was properly taken care of. But then, every morning since he had woken up from the day when the older man had brought him back to this apartment from that dreadful house, he would find Crawford still sleeping beside him, spooning him.
Ran got up to fetch his wallet in Crawford's drawer and took out the picture of his family. He and his father were wearing matching Yukatas and Aya and his mother were looking very pretty in their kimonos. It was taken as a family picture during their last spring and he cried, remembering those fond memories. After a few minutes of crying, he kissed the last picture that he had of his family and carefully placed it back in his wallet. He looked around and saw the katana that Crawford had bought for him. Carefully he unsheathed it; there would no longer be a kendo lesson for him, or a tournament. He would have to kiss them goodbye. He was certain that he would have to drop out from his school and start a new life.
Things had changed; everything had changed, and there would be no one to support his schooling anyway. Crawford did tell him that he had inherited his father's insurance but it was untouchable until he reached twenty-one; meaning that at this moment he had no money. He almost felt lost at the thought. What should he do till then? He knew that he had to stand on his own now, his life was no longer in danger but he had to stomach the fact that he had killed a man. Ran stared at both of his hands. He couldn't make the image of his hands stained in blood disappear.
Crawford was not in at the moment. He was out with Schuldig and Ran had overheard something. They had talked about leaving Japan. Crawford was going to leave him. Ran chuckled to himself. He knew that it was too good to be true, having a relationship with that man. He was right, the older man was certainly appalled with him, he was weak, couldn't defend himself and he had let his body be touched by another man. It would be better if he left the house rather than waiting around for the man to dump him. That would be more painful on his part and he didn't think that he could face it.
Ran began to pack his belongings and when he saw the katana, he was not sure if he was allowed to take it with him. He decided that he shouldn't; Crawford would give it to a person that he would love and someone who was not as damaged as him and the thought made him envy that unknown person.
He took a last glance around the house and remembered all the happy moments. He sighed and closed the door for good.