"This is a sick joke."
Tager heard his partner grumble in a blend of aggravation, disappointment, and impatience. Understandably so. He voted to take the wheel back to the precinct this time since the likelihood of her breaking the speed limit in her current heated mood was rather high. That temperament of hers could use a few adjustments. "That's the eighth case this week." He didn't mean to say that aloud. Some part of him must have wanted to vent.
"The eighth unsolved case," Bullet emphasized, combing irritated fingers through her silver hair. It ate at him too. Hearing it put so sharply only dug the dagger deeper.
"Once forensics notifies us, we will respond accordingly."
An ambiguous expression came over her face at the empty words. "So nothing."
Tager wanted to hold onto a speck of hope that something would turn up. Months on end with no further information regarding the string of murders across Japan had come to light and forensics weren't exactly batting a thousand in this cage. A part of him wanted to chastise her lack of tact but couldn't bring himself to do so. How could he berate her doubt when he shared the same line of thinking; it was most likely the case.
"Useless." That comment seemed far more self-deprecating than judgmental.
"Don't be too hard on yourself." Tager knew his words wouldn't hold much sway. Once Bullet found herself in a slump, it proved very difficult to pull her out of it. Nonetheless, he felt he had to say something; they were partners. "Nothing will come from beating yourself up. It's been a long night."
Her nose wrinkled. "I guess."
As he thought, no change.
Their job unresolved, they arrived at the Shinjuku precinct with a sour taste in their mouths. Bullet barely contained a snarl. Police activity filled their ears and dismay immediately replaced the vexation Bullet had once they stepped into the station. She was so enmeshed in her cases she completely forgot the person she had to report to, and two cups of coffee were not enough to deal with him. "I think I'd rather do another route."
The middle-aged giant chuckled at his partner. "I can't help you there."
"About time you got back." The nonchalant voice of her superior officer cut through the noise and made her shoulders slump. He strode up with his usual confident gait, greeting the two with a tired smile. He possessed violet eyes weary from hours of paperwork, black hair, and a muscular build.
"Kagura." Bullet meant to greet him, but her annoyance escaped before she could filter it.
The chief eyed Tager. "Hey, something happen on the way here? Usually get three chances before I get shot the glare."
"A long night," Tager responded simply and continued toward his desk.
A hand on his hips. "No dice?"
"How could you tell?" Bullet snapped and looked away. A steaming cup in her peripheral view drew her attention back to him.
"Figured you might need some caffeine. Long night, right."
Bullet drew a short, sharp breath. Seeing no other motive than a simple act of kindness she took the cup and drank a mouthful. "Thanks." Bullet studied the ripples within her coffee for a moment and sighed heavily. "I just don't get it. How is he–"
"Or she," Kagura jokingly added.
Her golden eyes flashed with murderous intent. Bullet resisted the urge to toss the coffee he so graciously gave her into his face. "Or she," she sneered, "doing all this? So many deaths and not one lead?"
From the sound of it, this one must have been worse than the rest. "Come on." Kagura placed a comforting hand on her back and led Bullet through the station into his office. Like steam in a sauna, the scent of grounded coffee beans practically soaked into her skin once his door opened. Closing the door, Kagura plopped down behind his desk and motioned his hand to give Bullet the floor. Shoulders pinched and her face contorted by the memory, she took a deep breath.
"When we arrived, all we found was a corpse and not a single witness or weapon. It looked like it had been mauled by a wild animal." Yes, mauled was an apt word choice
"It?" Kagura studied her expression as if he would find a clue. The way she characterized the body sounded as if the corpse wasn't human.
"Entire sections were missing, others parts in places they shouldn't 've been." Referring to them as "parts" was akin to profiling a doll or toy. A rather crude but appropriate descriptor. "It's going to be difficult to ID this person. Safe to say I lost my appetite."
Kagura cringed at the mental canvas she painted and pushed the sandwich he was previously enjoying aside. "Ditto." There wasn't a need to ask if anything had been gleaned from the scene. In a couple of days, the customary six o'clock call would inform him all about how they still had no leads. Kagura had an idea to increase police presence, get the bastard scared and have him slip up so they could move in, but drumming up that kind of fear would also leave the citizens anxious. Rumors of their inefficiency had caused enough of a stir.
"I'm staying overnight," Bullet announced, derailing his train of thought.
A concerned frown. "That's three nights in a row."
"I know," She stated.
Straightening in his seat, Kagura opted for a firm yet consoling tone. "Go home Bullet."
Her eyes narrowed and bore into him. "With all due respect, sir–"
"No." He put a hand up before she could argue. "You need your rest, and being surrounded by work without a break will, well, break you."
Now she glared. "I can't just go home while this bastard still walks!"
Kagura remained phlegmatic. "I getcha. Everyone does." He continued, talking over Bullet, "Everyone also needs to take care of themselves, first and foremost. You can't expect to be on top of things if you're seconds away from collapse. It's not healthy." Kagura put forth a compelling point. A moment of not-so-careful consideration later, Bullet responded.
"I'm fine."
"Surviving off coffee?" As someone running on fumes and a prayer, Bullet, who had been at the station longer than him for a total of two straight nights now, only heading home for a change of clothes, must have been trudging on empty. She could try and act tough all she wanted, but those heavy bags under her eyes told the whole story.
Bullet opened her mouth to protest, then shut it. "...Fine," She ceded.
"Great." That said a lot. On a normal day, he would have had to fight tooth and nail on it. Bullet was nothing if not incredibly stubborn. Rounding his desk, he picked his coat off the rack. "I'm heading home myself. Grab your things, I'll drop you off."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Drop me? I can take the train." Though it wasn't reproachful, there was a slight barb to it.
"I want to make sure you get home safely. Bags ruin that beautiful face of yours." Kagura winked.
Bullet was perfectly capable of picking up subtle hints. So he's worried. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out. Nights always teemed with the worst of them, but now things had gotten far more minacious with some mysterious psychopath on the loose with a description unknown to anyone. Putting a hand on her hip, her posture regained its former confidence. "Do you have to be such a creep? I think I'm better off going home alone."
"Half-asleep? Don't think so." She rolled her eyes at his persistence and Kagura just smirked. It was cute. "It's a good ride from here. You can sleep soundly on the way." A tempting proposition since the last thing Bullet wanted was to be kidnapped by transportation. Now that would be the icing on the cake to top the week off. "I think my car's headrests are more comfortable than a stack of case files," he added with a knowing smile.
"...You've made your point." Bullet veered away.
"You're adorable when you sleep. You snore, y'know?" He pressed.
Heat surfaced in her cheeks. "Will you just come on?"
He chuckled. "Glad to know you're onboard. Meet me outside once you've gathered your things."
No longer able to stand that grin of his without knocking a handful of his pearly whites loose, a disheveled detective barged into the office. Male, late-forties, with slight graying and heavy bags under his eyes. "Chief!"
Kagura put a hand out for him to calm down. "That's me. What's up?"
"We have another murder."
Kagura's face automatically lost its former jest, returning to work mode. Bullet asked, "Where? Is it related to our serial killer?"
"Mejiro. And I'm not too sure."
"I see." Bullet sighed, irked a part of her was relieved this case was on the normal side. Though Kagura shared similar sentiments.
"Go get your partner. I'll be in the car," Kagura ordered.
A metallic, pungent odor.
Kagura's, Bullet's, and Tager's stomachs collectively churned entering the victim's residence, inhaling the acrid stench of decomposition. They maneuvered through the house as other personnel conducted their own sweep of the premises and snapping photos, doing their best to stay out of the way. They smelled urine mixed in with the dry, coppery scent of blood as the trio stepped into the living room. Two bodies lay prone on the floor: a young woman with ash blonde hair, and right under her, a boy no older than nine or ten. Putting on gloves, they strode over to the forensic scientist looking over the bodies. Asahi was her name.
"Detectives." The brunette greeted them, curt and professional. Surprise momentarily appeared on her face seeing Kagura. "Chief. I wasn't expecting you."
"I was getting ready to head out of work when we were notified. Figured I would tag along, ensure a certain someone actually makes it home." Kagura shot a knowing look at Bullet and she rolled her eyes.
"Can you tell us what happened here?" Bullet said with an exasperated sigh.
With an awkward nod, Asahi identified the woman first. "Yuri Abe. Age thirty-one. A teacher at Mejiro Elementary school."
"Cause of death?" Tager inquired.
"Six gunshot wounds to the back. There is one on her thigh, one in her shoulder, and one in the back of her head post-mortem. Powder burns indicate close contact and bruise marks on her cheeks and neck indicate a struggle," She answered.
Tager noticed a laceration on the side of Yuri's face and an indent. "It looks like she got struck by something."
"Yes. Several times. Also post-mortem."
"So the sick son of a bitch who did this likely knew the family well," Kagura presumed.
"Yes. No sign of forced entry, so that's a safe bet. And this," the forensic personnel turned their attention to the boy, "is her son, Hideaki Abe. Age ten. Cause of death was a single bullet to the head."
Kagura bit the inside of his lip. Across the room he noticed a dark-haired man sitting on a kitchen stool, dried blood all over his hands and clothes. "Who is that? The husband?"
Asahi looked where Kagura directed and her eyes softened. "Yes. Fumihito Abe. Discovered his wife and son dead when he arrived home after a late-night shift. He, um, tried to revive them."
"I'll go get a statement from him." Kagura started off before another word had been spoken.
"Do we have any lead suspects?" Tager asked.
"Not yet. Although one of the neighbors who claimed to have heard noise is standing outside speaking to other investigators."
"Then we will have a chat with them as well. Let's go, Bullet." Tager exited, followed closely by Bullet. Kagura introduced himself to the husband.
"Good evening. My name is Chief Kagura Mutsuki." Kagura retracted the hand he instinctively put out. Not because his hands had been covered in the blood of his family, that fact hadn't even crossed his mind. From the looks of it, Fumihito was somewhere else and didn't even notice Kagura stood in front of him; an understandable reaction. "I know this is difficult," Kagura put a commiserate hand on his shoulder, grabbing his attention, "but can you answer a few questions?"
"O-of course," the husband answered after a beat, his voice shaky and raspy from crying.
A simple question to start. "You were working late, correct?"
He took a deep breath. "Yes."
"What do you work as?"
"I'm… a teller."
Kagura almost didn't want to ask but a job was a job. "You came in and found them like this?"
Fumihito bit his lip, breaking skin as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "Yes. I-I tried to resuscitate them, but nothing worked."
Kagura sighed internally. "Could you think of anyone who held a grudge against you or your wife?"
Wiping his eyes, he thought for a moment. "N-no. No, I can't think of anyone. My wife and I caused no trouble."
"Have you been home often?"
"I try to be. For the past couple weeks I've been at work more, earning some extra cash." Fumihito explained.
"Were you in a tight spot?"
"Not really. Everyone has a credit card here and there, but we weren't desperate. I just…" He took another shaky breath. "I just wanted to take my family on vacation."
Kagura nodded. "I see." He fished a card out of his pocket and handed it to Fumihito. "Call if you think of anything."
"Of course. T-thank you." The husband bowed and Kagura watched the sobbing man exit the kitchen. He looked at the dead bodies and made a promise.
"This bastard, I'll catch."
"Is there anything more you can tell us?" Bullet asked the elderly woman she and her partner questioned.
"Nothing I haven't already told the other officers. All I heard was some noise, then I heard a gunshot. I was a little drowsy when it all happened because it woke me up."
Tager raised a question. "Unlikely, but did you manage to catch the face of the suspect?" Though she shook her head, her eyes lit up.
"I did see what direction they ran when I looked out the window." She pointed up the block. "A lot of the houses on that street have cameras."
"And maybe one of them caught the bastard. Got it." Bullet motioned an officer and her partner over and informed them to check where the neighbor pointed. With a nod, the two officers headed toward the next block. Bullet faced the woman again with an appreciative smile. "Thank you. Sorry for disturbing you."
The elderly woman bowed and headed back into her home. A minute later, the two officers who left to check the next street returned with strained expressions painted on their faces. Kagura emerged from the house then and noticed their horror. "Is everything okay?"
"We… need you to come see this." One of them spoke, clearly holding back the urge to puke. Confused, they followed the pair. Turning down the street immediately brought a putrid odor wafting into their nostrils, and when they arrived at the sight that contorted the officer's faces, all three were close to vomiting themselves.
"This might be unprofessional, but if I was a betting man… something tells me this is our guy." Or was, but Kagura couldn't bring himself to raise a joke. All of them stood in abject repugnance at the torn corpse of a brown-haired man whose body looked as if it had been made dinner of. The organs meant to line his stomach hung out like noodles, some missing; half his legs were devoured, arms stubs, and one massive bite taken out his neck. Terror fresh on his face, eyes red from crying and nails scratched down and bloodied as if he were trying to get away from something, they didn't need a lab to tell them this man saw hell.
"This matches our serial killer's MO…" Tager looked at his still horrified compatriots. Having witnessed similar scenes like this many times, he, along with Kagura and Bullet, bounced back faster than the other officers. He understood how long it took to soak it all in, that someone could truly be this ruthless. A point on them that they hadn't thrown up yet as most would. "Get us the tape on those cameras. They had to have seen something!"
"Y-yes!" Both answered, eager to get away from the ravaged corpse.
Kagura swallowed his bile. "Let's get outta here too. Not much else we can do."
"Right. I'll get a forensic team here to get some prints." Bullet cast one final, disgusted glance at the body before leaving, followed by Tager and Kagura. One murder to end only for a far bigger one to sprout up.
"Looks like we'll be working overnight after all," Kagura chuckled sardonically.
A warm light-gold hue brought about the end of Ragna's dreamscape.
The world wasn't so forgiving as to wake him up nice and relaxed and ease him into the beginning of a new week. Random ideas from whatever dream took place gradually vanished and he was a bit pissed to see them whittle away; the kind of irritation someone had when one couldn't recall the dream they just experienced, good or bad. Then again it could serve as some kind of bad omen since Ragna's dreams tended to consist of nothing but darkness. Slight pessimism aside, something about forgetting this dream, in particular, bothered him…
"Finally awake?" A light voice pierced his musings. Begrudgingly, Ragna's eyes scrolled down the bone-white ceiling and met the big shimmering eyes of his smiling guest with mild annoyance. She was so light he didn't notice the weight of the redhead on top of him.
"You don't have my keys to raid my room, Celica."
Her radiant smile remained undeterred. "If you woke up early, you could raid my room instead." She spoke as if there was some sort of contest who could raid someone's personal space first, kicking her feet like a jovial child.
"Not interested. Now get off."
Her cheeks puffed up in a slight pout. "Fine, if you're going to be that way." Celica sprang off the bed and collected her bag from his bedside table. Reaching over the bed, she yanked his blinders apart and brought the full wrath of the morning sun onto Ragna's poor eye sockets.
"Argh! What the fu–!"
Both hands on her hips, Celica spoke in a commanding tone. "Up!"
"Alright alright!" Ragna shot up and shut his shades. As much as he wanted to head back to sleep now that Celica left his room, saying she would be downstairs waiting, her job completed, he was wide awake now. Ragna groaned out of bed and headed into the bathroom. It took him fifteen minutes total to brush his teeth, fix his horrible bedhead, throw on his uniform that consisted of baby blue slacks and a matching shirt engraved with his school's emblem of two crossed swords, and meet Celica downstairs. She sat at the kitchen table, eating out of a bento box.
"I'm here," Ragna yawned.
"Good." Celica pulled a chair out and patted the seat. "Sit. Breakfast."
"Yeah yeah…" Ragna dug into the fridge and retrieved some leftovers from dinner last night: rice, chicken, and some pork. He set his portion on a plate, which got a scrutinizing look from Celica since the ensemble seemed far too heavy for breakfast. "Y'know I could just pick up a snack from the store right?" Ragna said, sticking his food into the microwave and setting it to two minutes.
"A snack isn't a meal." She sensibly argued. "The more money saved, the better. Besides, that's not good enough for me."
Ragna chuckled to himself at the girl's economic stinginess. Sounded about right for someone who only shopped when her desired items were on sale. "Whatever." Ragna hid the small smile her affection caused. Her constant concern over his well-being did not go unappreciated even if it could be overbearing at times. At the sound of the microwave's beep, he retrieved his food, turned on the television to have some noise in the background, and sat beside Celica. "I take it Jin already left."
"He wasn't here when I got in."
As usual. "Broke in is more like it," Ragna said.
She pouted. "Hey! I have the key. I'd never break into anywhere."
"But my room?"
"That's different," she clarified, holding up a finger as if making a stern point.
"In what damn way?!" Celica didn't provide an answer; instead, she stuffed her mouth with an egg roll for an excuse that she couldn't talk. Ragna sighed and checked the television he switched on if something interesting was showing, but it was just news. Some celebrities got caught in an affair or some nonsense like that, at least that was what he guessed from the headlines. However, unlike him, Celica's attention had been captivated by the pointless drama and tension that hit its climax after, apparently, over five months of build-up.
"And they were such a cute couple…"
"How can you care about crap like this? They're just gonna find someone else." Ragna said.
"I wonder if that false pregnancy alarm was what did him in…" Celica said as she tossed another egg roll into her mouth, lost in her own little world. A clap startled her.
"Finish up so we can go to school already. I think I'd rather listen to some lecture than any more of this," he groaned, scarfing down the last of his food.
"Fine Mr. Grumpypants!"
Ragna stood up and checked the clock on the microwave. Opening ceremonies began at eight o'clock, but they were instructed to come in twenty minutes early for an important announcement before everything else got underway. Most likely warnings about how not to stay out too late, now that the streets at night had gotten a bit dangerous. Not like he needed to wake up earlier than necessary for the teachers to tell him to head back to bed as quickly as possible. Of course some students were far too hard of hearing despite the clear dangers, and those same rebels probably planned to ditch the assembly too. Ragna wanted to be a part of that crowd but the world (Celica) obviously had other plans for him. Punctuality, and all that crap.
Before Ragna could tell Celica to get cracking…
"...found dead."
A young woman, a child, and a middle-aged man's portraits were displayed on the television.
"A break-in last night found thirty-one-year-old Yuri Abe, and her ten-year-old son Hideaki Abe shot dead in their homes. Investigators discovered the suspect, forty-five-year-old Ichiro Kenta, dead a block away. It is said the death of Ichiro came by the hands of the same serial killer reported to have–"
Ragna shut the television off before the anchor could relay anything more. In retrospect, he should have done so sooner. The worried looked imprinted on Celica's face was normal: here they were, eating breakfast and about to head off to hell on earth for another grueling semester of tests and homework, then some grizzly murder? He caught the location on the headlines and hoped Celica did not see it.
"Mejiro…"
Shit. Looks like she did. "Time to go, Celica. C'mon." Ragna gently took her hand and helped her up. Mejiro was rather close to where they lived – only about twenty minutes away. Safe to say sleeping was going to be a bit rough feeling that some crazed murderer might be closing in on their neighborhood.
"Right." Celica forced a plastic smile and skipped out of the house. Ragna stuffed his lunch into his bag and made sure to retrieve both their school bags before he headed out and locked up.
Five minutes remained before the assembly commenced.
Ragna and Celica picked up the pace once the massive school came into sight. It was a place that advertised opportunity, strove for excellence, sprouted graduates that excelled in their studies to become upstanding members of society, and sat right smack-dab in the middle of family political intrigue where kids sent by noble families made up the majority of the student body. The gold letters that spelled out "Kushinada High School" seemingly glowed in the sun, named after the famous goddess herself for no other reason than to seem gaudy.
Entering the massive gymnasium echoing with thousands of conversations, Ragna and Celica scoured for some free seats. Several students noticed their appearance; some ignored them outright and went right back to whatever conversation kept them grinning, others spent their time glaring and scorning them. Not Celica; Ragna in particular. Their dirty looks didn't bother him nearly as much as they did her, but since Ragna didn't bring it up, Celica ignored it. "We need some damn chairs…" Ragna clicked his teeth, locating no free seat.
"Oh, geez. I knew we should've gotten here earlier."
"Says the one absorbed in her little soap," Ragna groaned.
"U-um, here are some seats." A feminine voice breached their banter. It was so light and frail it almost died before it reached their ears. Big green eyes gazed up at Celica when she faced its owner and she seemed to shrink in her chair.
"Got us some seats?" Ragna looked over where Celica pointed.
"You guys can sit… if you want." The girl scooted back. It sounded as if she used every ounce of willpower to utter each letter. Her eyes fell to the ground and Celica just smiled at her.
"Thank you. You're a lifesaver." She bowed and squeezed into the aisle. Ragna followed, giving a quick thanks as well, to which the blonde politely nodded.
"Good morning, students. Welcome back." An old, burly man stepped onto the podium. His tone was controlled, possessing a poise fit for the principal of a prestigious school. "To all our first years, we welcome you into our doors. My name is Principal Jiro, it is a pleasure. Firstly, I would like to address an issue." He cleared his throat. "I worry about all my students. It is imperative that every student here feels secure– to be able to treat this as their home away from home. But lately, as I'm sure you all have become aware, the streets have become very dangerous." A few conversations erupted but were quickly hushed by a couple stern reprimands. "I implore everyone to head straight home after school if you are able. After-school programs and clubs will be cut short, and anyone caught lingering will face severe punishment." His eyes scanned the room when he said that. "I don't want anything to happen to any of my students. Let us continue to uphold our proud reputation!"
"...And there it is." Ragna slouched in his chair. So many useless platitudes to finally reach what he truly cared for: his school's precious image.
"That is all I have to say. If there are any questions, please, feel free to reach out. Now," he turned to his right and stepped aside, "please, give your attention to our school's valedictorian, Jin Kisaragi."
The gymnasium filled with applause, the loudest ones from the girls. Principal Jiro watched the slender blonde man with pride, nodding as his academy's ace and role model bowed and took the podium. Jin cast a cool gaze across the entire student body and waited for everyone to be silent before he spoke.
"Good morning." His voice rang out in the space, firm and authoritarian and demanding nothing less than everyone's undivided attention. "A few announcements. Be advised that school will end a little early this week, and normal hours will resume next week. This is to get the teachers accustomed to their change in schedule."
The rest dissolved into white noise for Ragna. All he needed to know was he got to go home early this week. He joined no clubs so their hours being cut short didn't affect him, and he couldn't be bothered to join one either. Jin gave his scripted speech welcoming the first years in and returning students back, already gaining some new fans among the first-year students who gossipped among themselves about how handsome and cute Jin was. Thankfully their prattle acted as the perfect lullaby to put Ragna to sleep, substituting the number of times they said "Jin" for sheep. But Celica tapped him awake before that lovely darkness could ensnare him.
The school bell's ring brought the assembly to a close. Talks of lunch plans and afterschool meetups reverberated throughout the gym.
As expected, nobody took the given warning seriously.
"That wouldn't happen to me," they collectively thought.
Ragna and Celica filed out with the rest of the students, making their own plans for lunch. Although Ragna recommended she eat with her own friends then buddy-up with him, trying to convince her of something she had her heart set out on was far too much hassle. So he simply agreed to pick her up outside her class once lunch period started and parted ways when they arrived at her classroom 3-A. "I'll be waiting!" she shouted back.
Ragna waved back dragged himself through the throngs of students congesting the hallways. The cacophony of conversations and feet lightened as he walked by, receiving typical stares and occasional whispers about him as he did last year. And the year before that.
He entered his classroom of 3-F, surprisingly the first one to arrive. It saved him the trouble of dealing with a classful of awkward stares being the last kid in class. As he claimed a desk all the way in the back, the rank and file began to slink into the room. Though they made it a point of duty to avoid sitting anywhere near Ragna, going so far as to steer clear of any eye contact, they made sure to continue flapping their gums about him. Keeping rumors and so on spread by seniors and other students alive and well in the minds of those who may have forgotten.
Ragna pulled out his phone for something to occupy him before class started. As the seats filled and desks and chairs screeched a strand of blonde hair entered the edge of his vision. Unconsciously, he peeked up at the "unlucky" chump who had to sit next to him. It took a moment to nail her face down, but he recognized her: she was the girl from the gymnasium. Her large emerald eyes locked with his, obviously feeling his staring, but quickly looked away after a moments' stare. If he looked up the definition of "shy" this girl's picture might have been plastered right there.
"We have two of them?"
"Ugh, let's just hope we don't have any group work."
Sneering comments and scoffs reached his ears. None of the students attempted to be remotely tactful about their annoyance and ire. Although it surprised him that not all of their irritation was directed at him, but at the bashful blonde who looked as if a hard enough glare would shatter her into a million pieces. Even the teacher that stepped in behind the last couple of kids appeared none too pleased to have them in his class. Either that or his boxers were chafing him. Both were probably the case.
Now begins the long, arduous journey of completing this story. Thanks for coming to check this out! Like I said in my notice, this will be a complete revamp of the original story, mostly only keeping the main premise and school setting. My profile will contain the progress of my work from now on, so periodically check there for what is being written.
Credit to Wild Blue Sonder– my beta-reader.