Hey, people! Well, here's the first chap! Hope you all like it, and don't forget to review!
Standard disclaimers apply to this fanfiction.
tuesday feb.19
Cold. Lots of traffic. It didn't matter, though. She was happy to be back in Tokyo.
Misao shrugged off her coat and looked through her correspondence neatly classified over her desk. Tae Sekihara, thin, intelligent and Misao's estimated secretary, identified the piles in order of importance.
"Bills," she said, signalling the pile on the right. "Then, tickets. There are a lot of them."
"Interesting, I hope." Misao said.
"Pretty good." Tae said. "Messages there. There are two more clients wanting our company to furnish two apartments. You sure did know what you were doing when you decided to get into the decorating business."
Misao laughed.
Misao's job consisting in collecting second-hand antiques from auctions or sales, and use them for redecorating purposes.
"How did it go in Kobe?" Tae asked.
What Tae actually wanted to know was "How are your parents doing? What is it like to be with them? Are they as great as when they are on screen?"
The answer, Misao thought, is "Yes, they're wonderful. Yes, they're great. Yes, I love them and I'm proud of them. But I never felt comfortable in their world."
"When are they going to Kyoto?" Tae tried to feign indifference.
"They already departed. I cried on my way back here after saying goodbye."
Misao's parents were going to be out for at least six months because of an internacional tour.
"You want me to start calling these people?"
"First, phone Yumi and put me through."
Misao and Yumi had gone to the same high school together. Now, both were 24 and still as friends as when they first met.
When Yumi heard Misao's voice, she screamed in delight.
"You're busy," Misao said. "I won't keep you from working for too long. I just wanted to tell you I'm back, and to ask you how's Okina."
Okina was Yumi's father. He was a disabled person, and he had been in an asylum for the past three years.
"As always, just good."
"How's the necklace going? When I called you last Friday you were worried." Yumi was a jewelry designer.
"Because I was afraid of messing everything up. It was pretty difficult. But everything turned out fine. I'll deliver it tomorrow morning and, in my opinion, it's wonderful."
"Tell me about the Personal Project."
Kaoru Kamiya, producer of an important Cable TV channel, had met Misao and Yumi at the gym. Kaoru was preparing a tv documentary about the columns of personal ads; about what kind of person posts and answers ads, and about their experiences, good or bad. Kaoru had asked them to help her by answering a couple of ads. "You don't have to meet anybody more than once if you don't want to." She said. "Half of the singles in my workplace are doing it and they're having fun. And, who knows, maybe you could meet someone extraordinary. Think about it."
Yumi, generally, the most daring, had doubted about it. Misao convinced her that it could be fun. "We won't post ads ourselves. We'll just reply to some of them. We won't give out our addresses, just a phone number. The dates will be in public places. What could go wrong?"
They had started six weeks ago. Misao had time for just one date before travelling. The guy was a liar and a crazy man, Misao had informed Yumi and Kaoru. Now, Misao was asking Yumi to tell her about her recent dates.
"I'll tell you tomorrow night when we meet Kaoru. I had eight dates during these last three weeks. The majority of them were complete idots. I had met one from a previous date. One turned out to be very attractive and, obviously, he didn't call back. Tonight I'm going out with another one. Sounds good, but we'll see."
Misao smiled.
"Obviously, I didn't miss anything important. How many ads did you answer in my name?"
"Around a dozen. I thought it fun to send letters from both of us to some ads. We could compare our opinions if they call us."
"I love it. Where are you meeting tonight's marvel?"
"At a bar near Ginza. You're free tomorrow night, right?"
"Of course." They would meet Kaoru to hang out together.
"I'm glad you're back, Misao. I missed you."
"I missed you too. Okay, till tomorrow night. Ah, what's tomorrow's package's name?"
"Souji Okita."
"Sounds nice. Have fun, Yumi."
The Shinomori Gallery was in the middle of an auction. Some metres away, 25-year-old Aoshi Shinomori observed everything with satisfaction. He was tall and well-built. His green-grey eyes were a definite turn-on and the competition knew those eyes could rapidly reflect sharpness and seriousness.
He turned around to find his assistant, Tsubame Sanjou, saying with a worried expression: "Aoshi, I think there's a problem. Your mother is on the phone. She says she needs to talk to you urgently. She sounds shocked."
"The problem is that goddamned program!" Aoshi trotted upstairs.
A month before, the famous tv series Real Crimes had transmitted a fragment about Aoshi's twin sister, Tomoe, never resolved murder. Tomoe was 19 years old the day she was strangled while she jogged around the park near the house their family had in Yokohama. Despite his protests, Aoshi couldn't stop the cameras from recording the house and the places near it, and then reproduce Tomoe's death by the lake where the body had been found.
He had begged his mother not to watch the program but she insisted on watching it with him. The producers had managed to found a young actress that looked surprisingly similar to Tomoe. The program showed her running around a park in Yokohama; then the figure watching her from the nearby trees; the confrontation; Tomoe trying to escape; the murderer attacking her, and then placing a high-heeled sandal on Tomoe's right foot.
A fake horrified announcer said, "Was a stranger the one who attacked beautiful and talented Tomoe Shinomori? Her twin brother and her had celebrated their 19th birthday the previous night at the family's mansion. Was it someone that she knew, someone that maybe had greeted her on her birthday party and then killed her? In seven years no one could provide any piece of information that could resolve this terrible crime. Was Tomoe Shinomori a monster's occasional victim, or was her death just revenge?"
Then there were images of the house, the telephone number people could dial in case they had any information, and then a photo showing Tomoe's body the way it had been found, with the sneaker and the sandal still on.
The last line: "Where are the other sneaker and sandal? Does the assassin still have them?"
Katsumi Shinomori had been watching the program with dry eyes. When it finished, she said:
"Aoshi, I thought about it so many times. That's why I watched the program. I couldn't do anything after Tomoe's death, not even think. But Tomoe used to talk so much about her classmates... I thought... I thought that while watching the program I could remember something important. Do you remember the funeral? That crowd. That number of boys and girls from college. Do you remember that a detective said that he was convinced that the killer was amogst them?"
Then Katsumi Shinomori started crying.
"That girl looked a lot like Tomoe, didn't she? Oh, Aoshi I've missed her so much these years! Your father would still be alive if she was here. The heart attack was his way of expressing the pain he felt."
If only I had broke down every single tv before allowing mum to see that fucking program, Aoshi thought while he entered his office and took the receiver in his hands.
"Mum, what's the matter?"
Katsumi Shinomori's voice sounded tense and trembling.
"Aoshi, I'm sorry for bothering you in the middle of the auction but I have just received a very strange letter."
Another consequence of that damned program, Aoshi thought. Lots of letters written by crazy people.
"I'd like you to stop reading that bullshit. Those letters do you no good."
"Aoshi, I've just opened it and it's different. It says that, in memory of Tomoe, a dancer from Tokyo will die on Feb.19, at night, in the same exact way than Tomoe. Aoshi, what if this isn't just a letter from a crazy man? Can we do something? Can we let somebody know?"
Chou Sawagejo examined himself in the mirror. A good-looking man, he said to himself. He was perfect as an investment assessor, Tsubaki Yamamoto's husband and father of four vivacious and charming kids.
No one, Chou thought satisfied, would suspect that he had another life. He looked around the bedroom. Boring. Let me get out of here, he thought.
Everybody was in the kitchen. Tsubaki was a beautiful girl when they got married. Now she was just a woman that had let her body grow sideways.
"The school bus!" 13-year-old Eiji yelled. "Bye, mum, bye dad." He grabbed his books. "Dad, can you come see me play in tonight's basketball game?"
"I'm going to be home very late, son. I've got an important meeting. Next time, I promise."
Once inside his car, Chou felt better. Thirty-six years and married to a fat woman, with four noisy kids. When he was 22, he thought that it was intelligent to marry Tsubaki.
Unfortunately, marrying a rich man's daughter wasn't as marrying someone rich. Tsubaki's father was stingy.
As Chou Sawagejo, his life was pure boredom. But now, as Chou Sadamoto, prince of personal ads, his life was very active and mysterious, and when dark necessities came, he found a way of satisfying them.
A/N: Well? How was it? *hopeful look*
To Fieryshadow (my first reviewer!) – Thanks for reviewing! 'Loves music, loves to dance' is one of my faves, too..! ^_^ I just hope I don't mess anything up. Looking forward to hearing from you! *hint hint*
And to everyone else (if there's anyone out there reading this) please do review! Let me know if you like this or not!