Chapter 19

"You act like you're the only one who's capable of murder." My heart refused to settle as I listened to the words. His words sounded like radio static in-comparison to my vision watching his every movement with the lighter in hand. The glowing flame impossible to miss in the darkened room.

"Shuichi, are you implying-" I whispered my hands already moving on their own to remove the lighter from his hands.

That you're the only one that's ever killed someone before." Shuichi pulled the lighter further away, flicking it open and closed, "That look you're giving me, it's like we're not the same."

I found myself leaning closer, disgust swirling in my face, "Shuichi, I told you-I didn't do it." I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. Even if I wasn't accepted by anyone around here, I wanted him. I wanted him to at least think about it.

I felt as though he would be able to prove my innocence. Wrong. I was wrong again. Instead, I had a murderer sitting in front of me smiling at what he had believed I was capable of.

Everything was crumbling around me. I glanced towards the window, this would be the time that Youko would be sitting there, already knowing, and already waiting for me to run into his arms. With or without the answers. But he would find something to make me smile.

I pushed my unrealistic expectations down into the abyss of my mind. "You can't be serious" I laughed, he flicked at the lighter again testing for my reaction. "Put that down." I whispered, the scar on my back burning at the ideal of being in the same room as it.

I pushed my way onto his lap, reaching for the lighter, "Are you that desperate for it?" He asked his hands already having moved to steady me.

I glanced down towards him knowing my eyes were glowing with betrayal, how was I not supposed to be desperate? That item was capable of creating a smidgen of what had destroyed my school, killed three people, and labelled me as a psychotic arsonist-murder. The case was still opening as the families desperately argued needing someone to blame. My family fighting the cases, driving them into debt.

Who better to blame then the only one who made it out of that room that day?

The tips of my eyes felt as though someone had taken a lighter to them, "They were my friends" I whispered struggling to keep the water from spilling from my eyes. My hands begged to slap him, whatever joke was, it wasn't funny. "They were my friends." My voice cracked as I listened to the words I hadn't said in a long time come into the room.

Shuichi drew me into his lap, his arms tightening around me, "I know."

I lowered my head and began to bawl.

There was a thousand things I had been preventing myself from doing. And two thousand words I was ready to scream at them. But most of all I wanted smash those courtroom doors were I was prevented from entering as they argued out my fate.

I wanted to kick them down. I wanted to be that person they were accusing me of being and watch the doors burn. I wanted panic to paint their faces the way I felt escaping out of the school.

The way I felt as I was pushed out the window, betrayal running through my heart until the fire made a window shatter outwards, glass raining down on me. I wanted them to feel the terror I had lived through. They didn't understand the mixture of betrayal, relief, and frustration I was coping with. Their sly words and their daring me to question their feelings as a parent while they overlooked the fact that I was also a person.

I wanted them to understand that if I wanted, I could be the psychotic person they were all wishing they were accusing me to be. The one they all wanted me to be so that they would have someone to blame for the loss of their family members and children.

But most of all I wanted to kick the door down and scream and cry that those people they were accusing me of murdering in a blaze were my friends.

Shuichi ran a hand through my hair, a soft noise whistling between his teeth as he rocked us.

I glanced at him, waiting for him to explain himself. He shook his head. He wasn't ready to explain himself. "I was in the chemistry lab, because of the messy state my mind was in after words and the part where I remember pieces from time-to-time the families of the three people who died have continuously attempted taking me to court over three accounts of murder and one of arsen." I explained as he nodded, the bristles of his hair running along my shoulders.

My fingers tightened around around his shirt as I wanted to beg him to explain himself. Normal people don't waltz into other people's houses with proclamations that landed them several life sentences. My reddened eyes looked him over, he had to be good at bluffing. I didn't want to know the answer. But I wanted to ask him.

"Right now that's what you needed to hear." He whispered running his hand through my hair.

"But why?" I whispered.

His eyes shimmered, he reached for my wrists pulling them up towards our eye-level, "You act like people don't see these, but I know exactly what they are." He whispered his eyes zoning on my hair ties.

"Hair ties?" I whispered feigning innocence.

He gave me a piteous look, "chains, metaphors for how you really feel" he whispered, before taking his teeth and snapping the first one in half.

My heartbeat faster knowing that something that had been on my wrist so long it was starting to mend to the bone was missing. Shuichi reached for the other one, I drew away. He glanced back towards me. "They're chains you've set for yourself, people will come to accept you." He whispered, with a swift look at the door.

I attempted to yank the arm back, even with his teeth already hooked around the hair tie, "Even if you snap that one it doesn't guarantee that I won't put others on."

I attempted to keep myself from flinching as his breath brushed its way along my ear, "You'll just have to use mine." The tips of his ears highlighting red.

I felt my face twist looking at his, "You expect me take you seriously with that face." I whispered wondering if his intention was really to get a piece of laughter to escape from my lips. "Shuichi, I can't" I whispered attempting to keep the laughter in at the contraying of his words versus the pink that tipped his ears.

I took the hair ties spinning them around my finger, "I'll-"

My door creaked open, "Shuichi better go, mom's coming." Hissed through the door before the door clicked back into place followed by the quick shuffling of slippers.

Shuichi pulled away, "When'd you get on good terms with her?" his eyes flicked towards the door, likely checking the lights to see if Aunt Anna was on her way into the room.

"This morning through pancakes." I smiled, I felt my shoulders falling, I would know he would have to leave or we would invoke the random and ever-so-precarious wrath of Aunt Anna. And likely Elizabeth her effort of coming up the stairs first. "You need to go." I whispered, pulling myself from his lap.

I opened the backdoors, "You got up this way, it's easier to get down." I whispered folding my arms together as I scrutinized the area for how to leave when I finally suffocated in this household.

Shuichi's hair ran over his shoulders moving of its own accord as he tilted his head slightly, "You don't actually want me to leave."

"You have to, I'm going to be engaged soon." I whispered. No matter what I did, I was going to be engaged to Vincent and then my Aunt Anna would send my branch of the family money to get out of our debts. And hopefully some better lawyers. Who wanted to work a case they knew they were going to lose anyway?

His hands tightened around my forearms, wind rustling through our hair, "That should be your decision."

My eyes wandered the garden of their own accord. It wasn't as though I hated Vincent. I had just met Vincent. And I didn't want to marry anyone, yet. But I had two choices, and the daring gentlemen who was doing a clumsy job at looking like a bad guy wasn't looking so grim as being an arsonist and going to jail for the rest of my life.

"I have two choices, Shuichi. And only one doesn't put me in jail." I gave a glance towards the desk to jostle him, where he had left the paperwork.

A frown decorated his face. He knew what I was implying. It was hard to forget. It was his fault for bringing it up.

Shuichi ran a hand through my hair, "Your tears haven't even dried yet, marriage is something for later."

"Just get going already." I whispered, feelings of contradiction stirring inside me desperate for him. For him to tighten his arms around my waist and pull me closer as he could so that I could feel his heartbeat.

"Isabell." He whispered, his hand likely reaching to brush the remnants of the tears away.

My Aunt Anna rasping on the door, "Isabell, where did you put those groceries! I asked you to get barely anything! Isabell!"

I felt my hands attempting to forcefully move Shuichi. He wasn't moving without his own consent. "Please, Shuichi." I whispered.

"We'll talk about this at another time." He stated before stepping over my balcony onto the ledge. I felt myself glance between him and the door.

I took my breath, grinded my teeth, and reminded myself of the difference between the world I lived in and the world I wished I lived in.

"Are you sure you checked the right pantry?" I asked heading towards the door with a quick glance at Shuichi. He was gone.

I opened the door to Aunt Anna standing there tapping her foot, arms crossed, and huffing to the point I considered investing in an inhaler. "Don't you sass me young lady." She growled in sync with her tapping foot.

I flopped down the stairs one at a time, thudding with each sound, I wasn't in the mood for her mood-ruining-attitude that she carried around this house.

I opened the closet door pointing towards the collection of groceries I had brought home, her face reddened at the thought of being wrong, "Well, where's the money? You aren't planning on keeping it are you?" She hissed.

I glanced towards the table where I had left her checked-off grocery list, money, and receipt so that she could count that every penny was there. She picked up the food from the closet and headed towards the kitchen with a quick murmur of apology.

I felt my eyebrows twitch together. I glanced towards the stairs where Elizabeth was predictably eavesdropping, she shrugged in reply before scurrying back to her room. I wasn't going to take their odd personalities tonight for granted. I scurried to the stairs hurrying back to my room-"Isabell-" There it was, she wanted something.

"Yes?" I smiled at my aunt.

She turned the page on the magazine she was holding, "I heard you were out with Vincent tonight."

"I did meet him by chance. He offered me a ride home and I took it." I whispered, shame ran its way up towards my face. It felt as though I had done something wrong and she was going to begin lecturing me at any moment.

My aunt nodded, dismissing me. I hurried up the stairs into my room, heat blazing on my face. Sure, it was a situation that she had set up for me the only reason she was agreeing with it was the fact that it was all going her way.

I moved into my room glancing at the desk, where Shuichi had left the newspaper article. I picked up the article, it wasn't like him to be careless to leave the article behind.

"On January 4th, a high school burned to the ground. Within a chemistry lab four students remained. Only one, Isabell, Age 16, survived. Isabell is currently on trial for a triple-murder and the conviction of arsonist. The other three students burned. Isabell contained several connections to each of the students making the possibility that the murders likely revenge-murders."

The article continued on to explain that the current cases implied that I was on more polite terms, 'shaking it up' with my bestfriend's boyfriend with rearranged details and nonsense research. All of this information was wrong. I felt my teeth grind together, Shuichi knew better than to trust resources like this.

He wasn't. At least not to read or to get his information, what's the point of a newspaper when he had the main source right here? The newspaper was a prop, he would get the truth his own way. I threw the article down considering burning it for ironic effects or sending it through the shredder quicker then it would shred.

A mixture of emotions were running through me. I didn't know if I wanted to be angry that he brought that piece of vile trash within my room when he knew those weren't the right details or relieved that he hadn't believed it.

I placed my head down on my pillow, feeling like a person for the first time in several months.