Author's Notes: Ah, what the hell. I'll give it a try. If it doesn't work out, no big deal. Work on this will probably be slow at first, as I'm graduating today, the 23rd of May, and the first month of summer will be spent cleaning and packing and getting ready to move out. What fun. I can't wait. I love sarcasm. Anyways, this has.. mmm.. Taito and Kenkeru. Wow, Kenkeru. I know, I practically never write it. It also has, of all things, Daikari. That probably wouldn't ever work out, but I wanted to write it. If you don't like it, bite me. This fic also deals with the dark theme of murder, sort of indirectly. If you don't like it, turn back now, okay? Good. As long as that's straight.

Sortilege
by: butterflie, formerly known as Crimson Goddess
Chapter 1: The Drama Starts from Here...

Dad managed to get me into the apartment without much mishap, save for our nosy neighbor across the hall who was always poking her nose out the door and into business that wasn't hers. I swear she never sleeps, she justs wait for something interesting to butt into. Luckily, Dad told her in no nice terms to buzz off. He sat me down on the couch, told me to sit tight, and then went back downstairs to retrieve my guitar before someone walked off with it.
When he came back, guitar in hand, I'd managed to stop crying and calm down somewhat. However, I was no less terrified. What I had seen scared the crap out of me. Murder is rare in Japan. There's something like 40 deaths a year. One of the lowest murder rates in the world. The United States has the highest, of course. So to come across a murder in process is quite a shock, to say the least.
And the guy saw me. That's what scares me. I'll never forget the look in his eyes when he looked up from that poor girl's body when he'd finished with her. I'm sure the image of me watching him is as branded onto his mind as his sitting there holding the bloody knife over her is branded onto mine.
Dad put my guitar down by the couch, and went to get me a glass of water. I took it from him, but my hands shook when I held it, splashing drops of water out on my legs and the carpet. So instead Dad took it and held it up to my mouth, and I managed a few swallows. He placed the glass on the inn table beside the couch and then sat down next to me. "What happened?" he asked, sounding concerned.
I didn't respond. What could I say? What was I supposed to do? What was I expected to do? There were suddenly so many questions, and I had answers for none of them. I'm a witness to a murder, and not only can I identify the murderer, the murderer can most likely identify me. Would he come after me? Is it safe to say anything, or should I play dumb and pretend to know nothing? Having never been faced with a situation even remotely like this before, I was lost.
"Yamato?" Dad asked gently. "What's wrong?"
I shook my head, eyes filling up with tears again. What did I say to him, how could I appease him? Why did Ny have to insist on holding that stupid band practice so late anyways? If he'd ended it earlier, I could have been home hours ago, and still innocent of the murder to take place. But no, he had to keep us until some ungodly hour. Why? And why did I have to come across it? Why couldn't I have went home the normal way? I'll curse myself for that forever.
"Do you not want to talk about it?"
Another shake of the head. I tried my voice. "No," I whispered. It sounded horrible. Guess I wouldn't be speaking for awhile.
Dad let out a small sigh, but it didn't sound exasperated or anything. It was just a sigh. He stood up, and held his hand out to me. "Come on. You should get some sleep, then. It's late."
I merely nodded, and let him pull me to my feet. I walked to my room, his eyes watching me with worry as I went.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked before I disappeared. I shrugged, but I knew the answer was no. I would not be okay. I will never be okay again. Life as I know it is ruined. I went into my room and shut the door behind me, making sure to lock it tight. Then I climbed into bed, not bothering to change, and pulled the covers up to my chin. I left the light on, too scared to turn it off. I stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, until the first rays of the dawning sun began to peek in through my room. Only then did I allow myself to close my eyes and sleep, certain I'd be safe in the daylight.

My sleep was short-lived, and completely restless. About two hours after slipping away into sleep, I woke screaming from a nightmare, bringing Dad running into the room, scared out of his mind for me.
"It's okay, it's okay," I gasped after I'd stopped screaming. Shit.
"What is it, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly. "You were screaming."
I tried to control my heavy breathing. I was probably about as terffied as dad at this moment. "I'm sorry, it was just a bad dream, I didn't mean to scare you..." I wiped my forehead, which was covered in sweat. Yuck.
"You want to tell me about it?"
Sure. I was being tortured and murdered. I shook my head and threw back my covers. "No," I whispered to him.
He frowned, wanting to say more, but knowing me well enough to know that I don't talk when I don't want to.
"Well, you want something to eat?"
I raised my eyebrows. "Please don't tell me you cooked something."
He laughed. "I'm not that bad of a cook!"
I didn't say anything, just looked at him pointedly, thinking of all the blackened pans I'd had to throw out and replace over the years.
He gave me a mock sigh. "Okay, fine. I can't cook."
"I know, 'tousan. It's okay, I'm not that hungry anyways. I'll make myself something later, alright?"
"Well, are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure."
"Alright then.. I'm off today, so I'll be here if you need me, okay?"
"Okay," I said, as I stood on shaky legs and tried to wake up. I waited until Dad had left the room and shut the door behind him, then went and locked the door and leaned against it. I sank to the floor and closed my eyes, fighting tears, trying hard not to think about the awful nightmare I'd just had. It had been so intense that when I woke up my body ached in sympathy.
I was really in a huge mess and I didn't have a fucking clue what to do.
And to make matters worse, I not only had another band practice, I was supposed to go out with Koushiro and Taichi to see a movie today, and now I was too terrified to leave my house. What if I saw that guy again? I mean, surely, he must have a normal life outside of murdering girls, right? He's probably got a house, a job, maybe a wife and kids he goes home to. And surely he doesn't stay in that house and only go out when he wants to murder people. Right? Right?
Fucking hell.
....Maybe I could get Dad to drive me over to Taichi's, and have Taichi get Mrs. Yagami to drive us to the theater, and then pick us up when it's over... except that of course they'd all want to know why, and I wouldn't be able to give them a plausible reason. Damn.
Maybe I could fake sick?
No... I tried that once, and I wasn't very good at it.
Maybe I should just go, and not worry about it. Come on, what are the odds of me ever seeing that guy again? And anyways, if I do I'll be with Taichi and Koushiro, totally out in public, so it's not like he would try to kill me there or anything. Right? Right. of course.
I wish I felt more sure about it.

He watched as the blond boy walked into the theater with two other kids. One had huge spiky brown hair, and he seemed to be rather close to that one. The other kid had red hair and was walking slightly behind the two, looking sort of frustrated.
His eyes narrowed. That was the same kid, he was sure of it. He'd gotten an excellent look at him last night, and there was no doubt in his mind.
Dammit, what had the kid been doing out that late night anyways? And walking through an alley of all places, as if he had no common sense to speak of.
He wondered if there was some way to find out who the kid was. He waited as they paid for their tickets and headed towards the concession counter. He dragged the mop closer to where they were and pretended like he was mopping the floor, even though he'd just done that thirty minutes ago. But now he was close enough to hear their conversation.
"Taichi, you know this movie is three hours long, right?"
"So?"
"So? So why are you getting so much junk? You'll just have to leave halfway through the movie."
"But I need food!! You know how hungry I get, Koushiro!"
"Just leave him be, Kou. There's no stopping him at movie theaters. He's going to get what he wants no matter what you say."
"Thank you! See, at least Yamato's on my side!"
"Actually, I think you're a bottomless pit that could stand to eat less. You're going to get fat."
The redhead laughed, and the one called Taichi scowled. "Shut up, Ishida. At least I don't spend three hours obsessing over my hair!"
"I don't spend three hours!! It's more like twenty minutes..."
He'd heard enough. He put the mop back in the bucket and walked off.
"Ishida Yamato, huh?" He murmured. "Now where have I heard that name before...?"

Chapter 1 fin

Author's Notes: Yes, I know. It's short and not very interesting. I was going to make it longer, but I figured I'd go ahead and get those out for you so you guys would know that I'm going to continue this. The next chapter will be really long to make up for it, I promise. Though it might be a while before I can get it finished. Anyways, hope at least some of you enjoyed this! Oh, and about the formatting of this... I apologize. Lately ffnet has been a real asshole, and they've changed a whole bunch of stuff. There are supposed to be more spaces than this, I'm sorry. I know it's hard to read.

Dorama wa korekara....