There ain't things in life I can see…. because... I DON'T SEE REPLIES! It's not like many people read this anyway... just twenty or so hits... I'll just make the stories suckier and suckier... and that'll include sucky killings... sucky stories... sucky detectives... sucky... sucky... sucky... and that means a sucky story with no one reading it...
My ONE and ONLY reviewer... A Cannon... it's all for you cuz I don't think ANYONE else is reading this!
CHAPTER 3: TOMOYO DADOUJI
Sakura was that very brute, that very lively girl whom no one could expect, nor anyone could capture. People had names for her, yes, names. And you could hear the name muttered and whispered around Tokyo... a little murmur said within an ushered breath. The name that was known everywhere, where you could just say it and people would look around in fear and terror. The Black Night.
She was the night... she was the blackness and darkness of the night that lingered everywhere. She was the monster creeping below your bed and in your closet, she was the night children feared most. She was the night that people feared. But people can't see behind that mask of hers, they can't see inside the night's heart and see the hatred.
They can't see who she's after, but if they looked closely, very very closely... you might be able to see the rage of avengement in those eyes of hers. She was only after those people she hated, those people she truly hated and would get rid of them once and for all. And one of these people she hated, were the Yearlings.
The Yearlings was a family, there was Mr. Yearlings, Mrs. Yearlings, and little Teddy Yearlings, an American family who moved to Japan. From far away, they had given money to kill a family, a family that so many hated because of jealousy, and a family that they had thought was gone. But there was still one member left, one that would kill these heartless people, and had almost turned heartless as well.
Teddy Yearlings was only two years old, a kid the two parents had never wanted, but turned to love him. The couple had been a heartless one, and was jealous of many people. One by one, they gave money to kill these people, and soon they were all gone. Now, they rest peacefully in their cozy house with their child, feeling safe that these people are now gone. Or so they thought. The family is seated by the fireplace: Teddy Yearlings is playing with his trucks and toys, potty training at the same time. Mrs. Yearlings is cleaning up the wet carpet, while Mr. Yearlings is looking at the mail he hadn't read for so long. He picks up one that is covered in red, red in the color of blood.
"Lo, this is funny! An envelope the color of blood." He chuckles, opening it.
"Who's it from?" Mrs. Yearlings throws the towels into the sink, drowning themin water.
"Hm, doesn't say." He answers, taking out the letter.
He reads the letter slowly, his face turning pale and his hands beginning to tremble.
"What's wrong honey?" Mrs. Yearlings comes over, takes the letter that had frightened him. She reads it, color draining from her face, and words stuttering out of her mouth.
"This… can't… be… true…" She stutters, scared to her wits, "Its… been so long… no… it can't be…" She falls into her chair.
Teddy climbs onto her lap, crying, "Mama, Mama!"
She doesn't bother to put on his pull-ups, she shivers and clings to him tight, "We won't die today honey, don't worry my Teddy, we won't die today."
And then she sings nursery rhymes, luring him to sleep. But inside she's afraid, and so is her husband who is stricken pale.
The long hand reaches twelve, parallel to the short hand. Mrs. Yearlings eyes widen and turns her head to the clock, Mr. Yearlings does the same, a fear dreading to his heart and face.
"No…" They whisper.
The windows shake and trees beat at them, there's a creepy sound everywhere, and they look around as though ghosts are crawling around. And there are. They hear the sounds of voice; they hear people crying, it's the sound of those whom they had killed, or rather given money to kill.
They're little Teddy gives a cry, Mrs. Yearlings holds him tight, "There's nothing to cry about Teddy… you did not do anything… you will not die…"
And then there's a thump from upstairs. The parents stare at each other, seeing each other's fear.
Mr. Yearlings bravely says, "I shall go check what's up there, stay down and hide somewhere."
He grabs a kitchen knife and goes up the stairs, slowly. Mrs. Yearlings curls her baby in blankets from the closet, and then goes in, closing the door. She feels her way to the end of the closet, where she opens a trap door and goes in. It was only fit for one person, and the baby was very big, so they did not feel comfortable and she did her best to keep the baby quiet. She waited for what seemed like hours, and then she heard a scream upstairs… it was a man's scream. She wondered, was it her husband or was it the assassin? She waited some more. There was no more sound, but she wouldn't get out.
And then she heard a door click open; it was the closet door. She held her breath and waited, she heart a little rustling and movement, she couldn't tell if it were her husband or not. For my opinion, if it were her husband, he would have told her it was safe for her to get out, but there was no voice. But she did not use that logic and heard a knock on the trap door. And again, there was a knock. And she felt her heart burst, it must be her husband! For who else would be able to find their secret hiding place? And then she could not help herself but say.
"Fred? Is that you? Oh Fred! I was so scared you might have died!"
There was no answer.
"Fred? Why are you not speaking? Are you still taking that shock? Should I open?"
Again, there was no answer.
So Mrs. Yearlings believed she was safe, and she opened the door. It was dark and she could not see anyone.
"Fred? Where are you? Grasp my arm so I can be sure you're there."
Someone held her arm tight.
"Fred! You're there! Did you bring a flashlight? I can't find my way out." Her eyes were taking its time to adjust to the darkness.
There was no sound, they did not move. The hand, still grasping Mrs. Yearlings, was what she thought of was her husband's hand. But then, there was a flash of light and she saw, not the blue eyes of her husband, but green eyes.
"Fred? You… you don't have green eyes." She tried to break away from the hand's grasp and back away, "And…"
There was gunshot.
Mrs. Yearlings fell backwards, her eyes open, a little life of her left. She gasped, "Teddy… live Teddy… don't die!"
"Same thing with your husband. I told him that if you had given mercy to my family, I wouldn't, but you didn't! And if I were to keep him alive anyway, he would turn out to be an evil assassin like me. Humph, here's the taste of revenge and no mercy. Feel the icy pain." Sakura laughed.
By now, the lady had fallen dead, blood on her forehead. And then Sakura looked down at the wailing two-year-old.
"You are like my brother, you too will die ." And then she shot the baby in her hand, and there was no more crying, and there was no more life in that house.
"What did Mr. Yearlings say?" Asked Tomoyo, who had been waiting on the rooftop.
"Hm, he said he hadn't killed anyone, why should he die? Stupid man, I told him he didn't have to have killed anyone to sin; sponsoring a murder is a sin as well. Same thing as killing someone." Sakura scoffed, rubbing off theblood on her gun.
"You're very violent, and not very neat." Tomoyo sniffed the scent of blood on her black suit.
"There's no reason to be neat, being bloody will teach people a lesson." She snapped.
"That's your opinion." Tomoyo crossed her arms and sat Indian style.
"Well, if you've seen someone being bloody to your family, wouldn't you want them to feel the same?"
They were quiet, and then Tomoyo said, looking at the beautiful and peaceful city, "Do you think its right for us to kill people?"
"In my point of view, yes." Sakura frowned clicking the rifle to make sure there weren't any bullets in it.
"But, I mean, in my case. I'm killing for money reasons…"
Sakura nodded, "So you kill peacefully, don't you? You use needles and…"
"But I mean! Sometimes I feel its right, and other times its like… its like I'm evil!" Tomoyo clutched her black cloak.
"That's what we are, we're evil. We've got reasons for our doings, good or bad. We're assassins, that's what we do." Sakura didn't seem hurt by the word evil.
"Do you remember when we decided to be assassins?" Tomoyo sighed.
Sakura looked up from polishing her rifle, she stared into the past.
Tomoyo stared, "Are you alright?"
Sakura nodded her head, "Hm, I'm fine. Just thinking."
"Oh." Tomoyo looked at the Tokyo skyscrapers.
And then they leaped home, over buildings and swooping down through alleys and houses, until they reached the mansion where they slept like pigs.
Li had found another case, a couple and their little baby had been murdered. The father upstairs in the bathroom, and the mother and baby in a closet. He thought it was weird how they had been killed apart. He did, though, find out how they had separated.
He began on the sofa, where the letter lay. He figured that they had been sitting on the sofa, looking at the letters on the little table, and then found the blood one. The assassin must have come through the bathroom window, since it was open, and the father must have been brave enough to go up, sadly, he was killed with a kitchen knife. Then, the assassin went down the stairs, found the mother and child hiding in the closet, and killed them. Went back up, out of the window, and left. But no matter how hard he tried to decipher who the assassin was, he couldn't figure out.
He looked at the letter; it was the same as the other, but this time with no signature. There was nothing he could say, even the smartest detective could not figure out who did this, but he was getting to it.
He couldn't see the footprints or any fingerprints with his special tools. The truth was, Tomoyo had made their costumes specially so they're gloves and socks wouldn't leave prints, and they were washable, stretched easily, could put things in special pockets and folds where no one would expect them. So, there was no way he could penetrate Tomoyo's great workmanship on the costumes, so all he could do was wait. Wait for more clues.
In the large and magnificent garden, two girls rested below a shady tree.
Sakura lay in the dappled sunlight, feeling the cool breeze.
Yesterday, they had talked about their rights for killing people... and what Tomoyo said sounded so right... so virtuous... what they were doing was wrong, she couldn't help but to admit it.
No, what she was doing was right. These people had done something horrible to her family, they deserved to die! They did! Sakura clenched her fist together, feeling the agony and pain rushing into her memories.
She forced them back. She didn't need to remember it, not now.
She didn't want to see the dead bodies laying limp on the floor... the explosion... the gunshot... the blood... no.
She closed her eyes, but the vision just grew clearer. When she stared into the branches of the tree and into the brilliant light, she could hear the cries and screams.
There was nothing to keep those memories away, but someday she will find a way to destroy them... someday.
"Sakura..." Tomoyo watched her from the corner of her eye.
She didn't seem too good, laying on the grass and thinking. She did need time to think about things... she did need to consider things... but Tomoyo knew how much Sakura wanted to throw those memories away.
"Memories... are important." Tomoyo sat down beside Sakura, "Memories are nothing needed to throw away. You remember it all, don't you? You remember those days they were still... alive. You remember those days they were still there for you, those happy days. You remember the horrible days too, and the day they all..."
"There's nothing to remember." Sakura turned to the side.
"Of course there is, Sakura... I remember everything. I remember the painful memories and the happy memories, they bring grief and joy..." Tomoyo closed her eyes, then opened them again, "Sit up Sakura... I have something to give you."
Tomoyo reached into her pocket and gently took out a shard of pure jade. She held it and caressed it like a baby, then placed it on Sakura's palm.
"My mom gave three shards of a jade the day she died, she said that these would keep me calm and happy, give me peace. She told me to give it to three people I loved." Sakura saw her eyes water as Tomoyo said this, "And one of these people are you Sakura. It'll keep you calm and help you make your decisions…"
Sakura gazed into the shard; it was like looking into a pool of green, her eyes reflecting back in a deeper color. Then, Sakura threw her arms around Tomoyo's neck and cried. Tomoyo leaned her head against Sakura's shoulder and cried too.
It was almost as if someone were tearing them apart, and they didn't want to let go. And when they cried, the tears were almost asking why they had to leave each other, and why they were being separated. It was as if this shard of jade was a signal of love and parting, a symbol that has been passed down through millions of generations.
And it is true that Sonomi had five shards, and this is whom she gave them to: the first to Nadeshiko, then to a man I do not know, and the rest to her daughter. What happened to Nadeshiko's? It is still in the remains of the burnt house, but is covered in ashes and almost impossible to be found...
Yup, it's another stooorie! I'm sorry this one isn't as great... it's so hard to do a story on Tomoyo... and it SUCKS too! Don't tell me it doesn't. Li's story was better... but I already know who's story is the best!
TOMOYO'S STORY:
There's something in my heart I won't forget, there's memories in a box that can't be burnt or lost. It'll forever be with me, even when I leave this world. I'll bring it to heaven with me, I'll bring it with me wherever I go. There's no one who can take it away, there's no way I'll let them go. There's so much hurt in them, so much happiness, there's every feeling in there that I just can't explain. But I'll share it, I'll share it with you. And I hope you can keep it in your heart forever and not throw or sell it away.
I take a sniff in the air, twirl a lock of my hair, and then I rush down the stairs like a fairy. I hear music downstairs and clanks of champagne glasses. It's a ball downstairs for grownups and my mom tells me I'm old enough to go too. The maids coddle over my prettiness in my silk and purple dress. There are so many frocks and ribbons on it; I just love this dress. I'm turning seven today, my mother says seven is a lucky number, and to everybody, it means I've grown up. When my mother says that, I feel my heart skipping and my body grow an inch. I'm downstairs and I spot Sakura.
"Sakura! Sakura!" I wave to her.
Sakura turns her head and sees me, she gives me a smile that makes me feel so happy. I love to see her cute smile and the way she has that naïve and innocent face. That face I can't forget, and how much it has changed over the hard years.
Sakura came alone, picked up by my mother's limousine since for some reason she won't allow her parents to come. I didn't understand why she wouldn't invite them, but I was glad that Sakura could come. She dashes over to me and we giggle over some men's wigs that are falling off.
"Happy birthday Tomoyo!" Sakura hands me a box that was poorly wrapped in pink paper.
I take it gratefully, a present from Sakura!
She boasts proudly, "I wrapped it by myself! And I made the card too!"
I see the little piece of paper on the bottom.
My happiness ignores the scratchy wrapping paper, the messy handwriting, the unsymmetrical, folded card, andthe Barbie I've already had. It's because this present was from Sakura. Sakura is unaware of these defects as well, proud she had done it all by herself. And so I'm happy, and she's happy, and it was the best day of my life.
That was one of my treasures, it was a happy treasure, but I had sad ones too. It happened when Sakura turned seven (I know the birthdays aren't matching their real ones, but its just a story!).
On a day like this, everything should have been perfect. I could've gone to Sakura's birthday party, and had a good time. But then, terrible things happened, things that had scarred our lives forever.
My mother had desperately wanted to come to Sakura's birthday party, but she couldn't, and for reasons I didn't know. So I went. When I arrived, there were banners and balloons everywhere around the house. I entered the strewn doorway with my large present in both hands, and my dress tried not to be too fancy. There was Sakura in front of me, exclaiming, "You're early Tomoyo!"
We were so close to each other that we could call each other by our first names, and even without the 'chan' at the end.
"Tomoyo! That's a big present!" Here eyes widened at the large box.
"It's a new toy from my mommy's company, she wanted you to have one." I smiled.
And then, one by one, a few other girls arrived with presents and wondered what they're goodie-bags would have in them. We had such fun, such glorious times, and it seemed like it would last forever and this treasure would be like the first one. But then, as the party ended and everybody left for home, something happened. It was like this, Sakura was to have another party with her relatives and adult friends tomorrow, I begged my mother to come. But she wouldn't budge, not at all. So it was to be like this, and I sulked in my room all night. There was nothing to cheer me up, and not even my mother could make up for it. And to think this would force her to go! She did not. No, she did not.
The day Sakura had her grown-up party like me was a disaster, a disaster I was unaware of. If only I had known and to have gone to save her at once! But it was impossible, it was all so impossible. We didn't find out until the next day, when we had heard there had been a fight, armies and armies of men had come swarming over to their house, battered it to the ground, blasted the everyone in there to bits, and had turned the house into a large bonfire, burning away bodies and lives away. And how I cried and cried! Sakura! My dear Sakura dead! Killed by thousands of men that killed the whole family, and for a reason I did not know! It was like my mother, it was like how she hated Sakura's parents. And perhaps my mother was behind all this, but she would never kill Sakura! And a week went by like this, and my happiness had been drained away.
But then, there was a light of hope in the air when my mother heard there might have been a survivor. Immediately, my mother pulled me into a car and we were searching through and through for a little young girl, lost in Tokyo's streets. We had to find her quick, before men would come and kill her like her family. And what luck that we spotted her, curled in ashes and dirt, sleeping on a sack of flour behind a bakery. From that day on, my mother had her to stay hidden in our family and live with us.
There was a miracle, Sakura living with me like a sister. And I thought, maybe God had killed her family and let her have a life with us, give her another chance and let her live. I was sure my life would forever be happy, to live with my mother and Sakura, to live in a world of love. I was so sure that my life was perfect, that I failed to see another defect in my mother's health.
My mother had been very healthy since birth. She was strong and smart and had wills she fulfilled and didn't. She had built a strong company and had a child. She had some failures and accomplishments, and she was healthy. But then, a disease struck her, and it weakened her heart, and it seemed to get worse every year.
One day, her heart became so fatal, it was near to stopping and for her to let go of her life. When she laid down on her deathbed, she knew there were things in her life she had not done yet, and then she named all the things she wanted done and the things she had done, and the things she failed. She told me everything, so then I understood. And that day, I felt as though I had really grown up, and it was that day that I had become an adult.
I was kneeling on the floor, my hands clasping her white, cold ones, and my head trying to stand stiff and high without tears. But how many tears did come, and how many times I let my head down on the bed. My mother stroked my hair and told me many things I had never known. Then, an hour before her death, she handed me three jade shards, a deep green color like the sea, and she told me what do with them, where they came from, and what it symbolized. The only thing she did not tell me was about my father. I didn't ask, because she didn't want me to know. She didn't want me hurt. So then, as her hands quivered and dropped the shards into my hand, she gave her last smile and breath and words, rich man...killed... poisoned me,and then dropped into her death. Her hand slipped out of mine, her eyes closed with no energy, and her heart… it stopped. I cried. She had died when I was twelve.
You see, there are sad memories held in my heart, and happy ones. They are as clear as yesterday, but I wouldn't be able to tell them like the present since my feelings are too hard to explain. And the way I told my story was not in a sad matter as it was, but so that you would not cry or laugh. There are two more that I cannot share yet, because they are empty. I've left two holes in my treasure box so that I can fill them when the time comes. But there is one more memory that is very precious to me, it was the day I became an assassin. But that story is not mine to tell now, maybe another time.