Chapter 23

I didn't know what made me appealing to Shuu Tsukiyama, but I thought I could maintain it.

My job was to get people interested in me. If one interest failed, surely I could produce another?

Failing that, if I could keep Genesis happy, then I'd be safe because she'd throw a fit without her shiniest toy.

That was all I had to do. Keep Genesis and Tsukiyama happy, no matter the cost.

This method gave plenty of rewards for me too. Often in the form of expensive shopping sprees or day trips, or bumping up my reputation. Sometimes I was given physical gifts, often before yoga sessions. Genesis enjoyed this especially, and I specifically remember being gifted vintage dresses and jewelry—all straight from her personal wardrobe.

I refused the gifts at first, but soon adapted to accepting without hesitation.

My relationship with Genesis and Tsukiyama remained in the dark at the time. I knew Fuyuhiko was my friend, we frequently met for coffee or spin classes and our relationship needed no clarification.

Genesis was more of a mystery. She'd call me her best-friend and tell me how she loved me, how beautiful I was, how I must've been an angel sent to protect her. But two seconds later she'd say something like: "I hate you. You're skinnier than me, you're prettier than me, you dance better than me. I hate you, Charlotte Fisher, you torment me. Why do you do that? Do you find it funny? Perhaps you were not sent by the Lord, but by Lucifer. Are you a succubus? I bet you are! Succubus!"

And then she'd repeat.

When she was sober, however, she seemed to like me. She stared at me a lot, but that wasn't unusual and Fuyuhiko said, "She's obviously gay, but too Catholic to admit it. She's totally crushing on you,"

Which had led to Shuu Tsukiyama rolling his eyes and scoffing. "She's not. Please, you don't give her enough credit, just because she's Catholic—"

"I've heard it before. You're like a broken record,"

"Is she homophobic?" I asked.

"Yeah,"

"No," Tsukiyama turned to me. "Charlotte, dear, the Bible never condemned homosexuality—that's just a misconception,"

"Really?"

"I believe it's in Leviticus somewhere—'You shall not lie with a man as a woman, that is abomination'—but I read a different edition that claimed men should not lie with a boy,"

"Like pedophilia?"

"See? It's all about translation, and if she was that homophobic, she wouldn't be around any of us,"

I nodded—all three of us were LGBTQ, though Genesis and Fuyuhiko didn't always get on, their arguments centered more on Fuyuhiko's obsession with Greek myth.

It was that same night when my relationship with Shuu Tsukiyama received clarification, though an unexpected one.

It'd been a party at Fuyuhiko's house. He was a minimalist, so after staring at his aquariums, I quickly got bored and went to find someone to fuck or talk to.

I found Shuu Tsukiyama in the garden by Fuyuhiko's swimming pool that was now a koi pond. I sat on the pond side, peering in at the fish.

"Hi," I said, shivering and pulling my coat up. Tsukiyama glanced at me and nodded. I looked up to see what he was looking at. "What are you—Sorry," My phone bleeped. I went to put it on silent and saw the text was from Anna. It read: where r u???

I almost choked. I turned my phone off and put it back in my bag, swallowing the bile rising in my throat.

"Everything alright?" Tsukiyama asked, not looking at me.

"Uh, yeah," I said, trying not to think about the messages I'd be bombarded with when I turned it back on. "Are you OK? You looked kinda out of it,"

"I was just looking at the sky. It's never normally this clear,"

I looked up. "Huh, it's beautiful,"

"You used to live rurally, I bet you've seen some gorgeous skies in your time,"

I shrugged. "I didn't really go out at night..."

August, 2004.

"Uh, it was really cold. I remember seeing a space station once though, that was cool,"

"How wonderful,"

"But, uh, the best skies I ever saw were when I was in Zimbabwe. God, they were...They were so much better than anything in Wales or, well, they were way better than that up there,"

"Tell me more, s'il te plaît,"

I blushed at how friendly that was. I didn't know if our relationship had stretched that far. "Are we friends?" I asked.

He blinked, then laughed. "What?"

"Are you my friend, Tsukiyama? Or are you just interested in me?"

He smiled. "Humans and ghouls aren't friends, it's sale,"

"Not unless you eat me," He laughed again. "No. Seriously, why can't you be my friend? I told you, I don't care that you're a ghoul, I don't even care about you killing me anymore,"

"We're different species, dear, we don—"

"My best friend's a goldfish,"

"Okay, fair,"

"Also, are Fuyuhiko and Genesis ghouls? Because I know you've shagged Fuyuhiko multiple times—"

"He's not my friend, he's my architect,"

"And your toyboy, apparently. Genesis?"

"She's not a situation I wish to discuss,"

"Fine, what about me? Why can't I be your friend? You like me, don't you?"

"Yes, I do,"

"So?" I then realised how desperate and lonely I was coming across and wanted to backtrack. Before I could, Tsukiyama began to speak again.

"You're more like my pet, Chérie, my pet cat,"

I blinked. "Oh. I didn't realise you were into that...Are you gonna pay me? What do you want me to do?"

He looked at me, puzzled, before gasping. "No, no! Not like that. I meant that I see you as a pet, not a friend,"

"But pets are friends,"

"To you,"

"Do you have any friends? That are not pets?"

He paused. "Bien sur,"

"Ok. So...I'm just a pet. Okay,"

"What? You're uncomfortable?"

"No, just...My ex-boyfriend used to...There was this time when—"

August, 2004.

'You're such a cute little kitty. Come here, little kitty-cat, come to daddy,'

'Here, kitty, kitty, don't hide, I can hear you,'

"Uh, sorry. It's not important," I sniffed and wiped my eyes.

"You're crying. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you,"

"It's fine. Just me being silly,"

He placed a hand on my shoulder, why I instinctively shoved off. He paused and I prayed I hadn't upset him. He eventually let out a sigh, and took his jacket off.

I froze up.

No. Not him. Not him too.

I wanted to run, but couldn't. I felt like a rabbit in a snare, and I was reminded of my favourite film—Watership Down.

"No," I mumbled.

He looked over. "Hm? Oh, would you care join me? It might help you calm down,"

"What?"

"I'm going swimming,"

"Where? In there?"

"Yes,"

"But that's dirty,"

He laughed. "Fuyuhiko doesn't know the meaning of the word,"

I hesitated, watching him undress. "It looks cold,"

"You're cold? Then don't come in,"

I watched him enter the water, the koi gently moving aside. I pouted—I wanted to swim with koi too. Tsukiyama looked back at me. "It's magnifique, you know,"

"Looks it," I sighed.

"The sky looks nicer in here too," He looked at me. "Allez, it's very relaxing and you're still upset,"

I looked at the water. It wouldn't be so so bad if I died of hypothermia, I supposed. I removed my clothes quickly and slipped into the water. Iplaced my hands on my ribs, counting them and focused on pranayama.

Tsukiyama was right, it was more beautiful in there, and I wasn't thinking about August 2004 anymore.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Tsukiyama said, proudly.

"It's still fucking freezing,"

"I'm not cold at all," He looked up at the sky and breathed deeply. "You don't believe in God, do you?"

"No. I'm a nihilist, why? Do you? Only I know your school's Catholic,"

"I wouldn't exactly say I believe in God, but I can't say I'm not religious. I have my devotions,"

"Devotion is not inh-in-en-inherently religious,"

"I suppose not," He looked back at the sky. I watched him closely, my teeth beginning to chatter. He turned back to me. "Tell me, do you think there's life up there?"

"Like, aliens? I think it's possible,"

"Some people think ghouls are aliens, isn't that hilarious?"

"Why? It could be true,"

"Sorry?"

"Well, I've only done a little research on ghouls but nothing about you adds up scientifically. You can only eat flesh—which in itself is possible—but you should be able to consume more than one mammal. If you could only eat one thing, then natural selection would have done its job ages ago. Then there's the whole 'kagune' issue, which I don't know enough about to come to a conclusion about. So, for now, I can name you a Humanoid Abomination,"

"Abomination? I quite like that,"

"Really?"

"I'm used to much crasser terms,"

I scoffed. "From who? Your ghoul friends?"

He paused and I worried I'd overstepped my line. He smiled. "Mostly,"

I stared at him. "Do you have many ghoul friends?"

"We're brave tonight, aren't we?"

"Do you?"

He laughed. "Most of them are far too unmannered and degenerative—most can't even speak proper Japanese—I've little interest in people like that,"

"Why can't they speak?"

"Because they're uneducated, dear,"

"Why?"

"I don't know. I managed it just fine. Most of them are just pathetic—Scared of being caught out, I suppose,"

"What happens when the CCG catches a ghoul? I know it's bad, uh, for you, but the news is really vague. I assume it's testing? To find a food product?"

He stared at me for a bit, then burst into laughter. "Oh, you naive little kitten! You're adorable,"

"What? I don't understand,"

"To think, I actually considered you a threat! When you don't even know what they do—Aha! This is hilarious,"

"Do they not do anything bad? Prison?"

"Charlotte, chérie, God, no. No, no, non. They're not police officers,"

"But I thought they were? That's what I was told,"

"They're glorified executioners,"

"What? But—"

"They're vile,"

"But you're only eating to survive...And your only known food is us. Why are they not trying to find more food for you? I mean...Why would they do that? How are they allowed to do that? Is it regulated?"

"I don't know,"

"But...They can't do that. That's cruel!"

"Aha! You're crying!"

"Because it's cruel! That's not fair. They can't kill you for existing, that's not fair,"

"You're a very empathetic human, aren't you? Though, it makes you seem a little naive,"

"It's not naive to be against unregulated slaughter. It's not like ghouls are killing people for the sake of it, is it?"

He didn't say anything.

I sighed. "Well, there's always the odd few, but humans are no different,"

"Why don't you stick to what you know— watching mantises and chasing butterflies?"

"And let this cruelty continue?"

"You can't even defend yourself from a single person, how exactly do you plan on tackling a government-led organisation?"

I paused, he was right. "Someone has to do something about it,"

"But you can't,"

"I could stir opinions. It's so easy nowadays with the internet—"

"They arrest humans for that, having such a close relationship to the police—you'd be arrested, probably institutionalised, and they'd bring all of us into it, so Genesis would crack, then she'd bring me with her, and that's my family and our associates—think of all the damage you could end up doing,"

"I want to help,"

"There's nothing to do. Just leave it, everyone else does,"

"Well, I disagree,"

"That's fine, just don't do anything. You'll end up ruining everyone else and I'd hate to dispose of my new pet after so soon,"

I stopped, eventually nodding. I made my excuses and left without another word.

It was hard to explain how I felt. I was upset, obviously, but there wasn't anything I could do. I felt obliged to do something, but what was the point if it could only hurt others?

It was better to seethe in silence, as much as I hated it. Speaking of which...The second I arrived at work the next day, Ryōma pulled me into the bathroom.

I cried as he did it. I begged him not to, though I didn't have a choice. I quickly stopped fighting and let him carry on. I cried in the bathroom afterwards. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

I was ashamed, and I knew going out there would mean more attention from Ryōma. I stayed there for a while, thinking about how I needed the money, but also about how I couldn't keep doing this.

"Charlotte, sweetie? Are you in here?" Eventually, Lydia came to get me. I waited for her to leave, but she didn't. "Sweetie, Pasha needs you for something. I know you're in there,"

I accidentally made an audible sob and I heard Lydia make another noise. "Charlotte, sweetheart, are you crying?" She knocked on the door. "Come on, let's talk about this. I think it's gotten out of hand,"

I reluctantly opened the door and accepted her affections. She took me to her office with Pasha and the two coaxed me into telling them how Ryōma treated me.

Pasha seemed reluctant to touch me, only telling me that it wasn't my fault and that Ryōma's actions were completely inappropriate, even after I sparingly explained why he was doing it to me.

"That's blackmail, Charlotte," He'd said. "And it's sick. We are going to the chief—"

"No! Please. I don't want that,"

"Charlotte, no, this is out of hand and it will not carry on. Right, Lydia?"

Lydia nodded. "Mhm. Only..."

"What?"

"I don't mean to offend, but...Maybe you could try covering up more?" Lydia smiled gently.

Pasha looked up. "What?"

"Well, Charlotte does have her...style—"

"She dresses like a ten-year-old,"

"Yes, and Charlotte, you wear shorter skirts with no tights and you don't always do your blouse up...And we've all seen what you wear in the gym—practically nothing,"

"Are you kidding?" Pasha snapped. "It's not her fault!"

"You know what men are like. They can't always control themselves,"

"How is that her fault? Yeah, most men get a boner every now and then, but that doesn't mean we can just touch women willy-fucking-nilly," Pasha took my hand. "Lydia, could you leave? I don't think you are the best person to deal with this,"

"And you are?"

"I do not slut-shame, so yes. Come on, Pigeon," He pulled me out.

"Pasha, please," I protested. "I don't want to talk about this today. Can we just talk to the dance companies now?"

He paused. "Fine. Tomorrow then,"

My mind was elsewhere that day, so my Swedish was a little off. However, I held myself well and didn't mistranslate that much.

After a few failures, I eventually reached a company that knew something about the Sockerägg dance company.

There was a silence, as though the woman I was speaking to was thinking. "God, that's—" She spoke to another person. "OK. Sorry about that,"

"Is everything okay?"

"I don't really know a lot about it. No one does—it was all very private,"

"What?"

"You said you were with police, don't you know?"

"Not the Swedish police, ma'am. I'm with the Tokyo police department,"

"Tokyo? Why so far away?"

"We are just looking into something. Could you explain what happened? And when?"

"It was about millennia time. I wasn't that old, so I can't really remember much but...Urgh. I don't know to put this,"

"Just tell me,"

"The owner—I think—of the company, two of his girls went missing and it came out that he...He was this pedophile and he'd murdered the poor thing. They never found one, but they found him with the other's body—God knows how many more he killer,"

"Who was he?"

"RThey probably took his name of the website—Hugo something. The guy was a total weirdo. He claimed he wasn't guilty too—like, really? They found him knife in hand, covered in her blood—"

"Can you remember the victim's names? Surnames?"

"No, I think one began with M though. Sorry. God, that's awful, isn't it?"

"You said he pleaded not guilty?"

"Yeah. I remember he made up some story about this girl stalking him—forcing him to have sex with him and that it was her,"

"Stalking?"

"Yeah. But the girl was only like, sixteen, and she was a ballerina, so what was she gonna do?"

"And you definitely don't remember her name?"

"No, sorry,"

"They never found a body? Ever?"

"No. They found something of hers—she was presumed dead, I know,"

"What about the other girl? Where was she found?"

"In his house,"

"Where's that?"

"I don't know,"

"Is this man still alive?"

"I think. The whole thing was kept kinda quiet. The company shut down not long after. I think the guy's son had something to do with it,"

"Son?"

"Yeah. Might've been daughter. Anyway, I don't really remember. Try Gotenburg...Or actually, Kumla might be better, though, the Royal Sweden's got to know something,"

I thanked her and finished, turning to Pasha and explained everything. He wrote it all down before we continued. When ringing Kumla we found something more.

"You mean the Cygnet case? I know the one,"

"The Cygnet case?"

"It was an odd one,"

"Odd?"

"Yeah, just something didn't feel right about it. It felt like something was being held back. You know?"

"Can you remember anyone involved?"

"Hugo Bergström. That was the guy that did it. I think one of the girls was called Marin...Yes. Marin Sandberg,"

"Marin Sandberg and Hugo Bergström. Got it. The other victim?"

"Lyra. It was Lyra. She was this blonde little thing, and she had these beautiful green—like bright green—eyes. You could see why someone would get so attached, the girl was gorgeous,"

"Can you remember her surname?"

"I don't think it was ever revealed. I don't even know if Lyra was her real name. That's just what the papers said,"

"Did the murder take place in Kumla?"

"That was what made it odd. Lyra's body is supposed to be in the river in the big park, but the police swept the whole thing—never found anything. I mean, it's a big river—or pond—but they said they searched it,"

I thanked her for her help and turned to Pasha, who was googling the case. He pursed his lips.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. I found the case. That's Hugo Bergström,"

I looked and saw an attractive man of about forty. He had greying blond hair and a lean figure. "Found anything on—"

"He looks like Oliver Gunnarson," Pasha interrupted. I compared the image of Oliver Gunnarson to Hugo Bergström.

"I'm not good with faces...He's way to—The son! She said Bergström's son had something to do with shutting the company down...do you think—"

"Makes sense. Then he moved here with his kids and changed his name. He probably did not want anything to do with it,"

"Who's the kids' mother?"

"She died—cancer—apparently,"

"Apparently,"

"We did not look into it,"

"Oh,"

"I will now though. This is the girl that was murdered. Marin Sandberg,"

I winced. The photo was of a happy looking girl with long dark hair and a long, distinct mouth filled with brilliant white teeth. "Pretty," I said, looking at her height and trying to estimate her weight.

"Poor thing," Pasha sighed. "God, this shit makes me sick. She was fourteen—stabbed thirty-two times,"

"Must have been personal. The other victims were stabbed, right?"

"Some, but all multiple times. It could be the same killer,"

"What about the girl that went missing? Lyra. She said her body was—" I froze, looking at the picture of a new girl on the screen.

"This is Lyra. No surname. Another pretty—Are you OK?"

"That's her,"

"You recognise her?"

"She's the woman that's stalking me,"

Hi. It's your author here.

I don't normally make notes, but I felt it necessary to update readers on some changes.

Due to just general planning and style decisions, certain plot points, scenes and characters that were set to have subplots have been removed.

I feel awful about this, having made you read scenes for characters that now don't serve any purpose, and those scenes will eventually be removed.

I'll explain the future of this story at a later date.

I'd also like to apologise for any drops in quality recently. My mental health's really taken a dip as of late and I feel like a mess. I hope you can understand.

Here's an obligatory Instagram plug:

You can find more info on this story's development or characters on my Instagram page:

'@stephpencils'

I also post a lot about other subjects and I post pictures of my cute hamster—so it's a win-win.

Sorry for this interruption, and thank you for reading!