Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. Suzuki Tsukiko is mine, though, as well as the plot.
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Everything started with the bus hijacking. If I wasn't going to Spaceland, if didn't see the monster in the back of the bus, then I would have never been involved with the Kira case.
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No More Mind Games
Chapter 4- Life Altering Decisions
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December 27, 2003 – Saturday night rush hour At Shinjuku station
My hands were super glued to the back of the seat. What just happened?
I came up with a blank. In fact, I wasn't thinking of anything for a while now. I just froze in this awkward position, staring out the window. The subway train sped faster than my eye could recognize whatever was out of the window. All I could comprehend were the dark colors and shapes blurring by, almost hypnotic like.
What the HELL just happened in front of me … again? This thing isn't going to be happening over again every weekend, is it? Am I cursed or something? Well, maybe that is too extreme. I would know if I was cursed. Not like I have been cursed before but this I didn't know. This didn't happen to me everyday.
I looked down at my hands which I was, at the moment, losing all feeling in. My knuckles were as white as (no pun intended) a ghost. I giggled at that thought. But it was a forced giggle, something that sounded not too far from a sob. I slowly unhinged my hands from the seat, watching them closely as they filled with color while I flexed them.
My knees and calves were staring to ache. That wasn't a surprise since I am setting on my legs. Now, I think my legs have fallen asleep but then again my whole body feels numb. I fidgeted a little in my awkward setting position until I realized that wasn't helping and I was looking like a dumb ass just seating here. People close to me on the train were beginning to stare in my direction.
Standing on one leg, I lost my balance, banging my shin on the seat. I turned and crashed down on my seat, hugging my now bruising leg to my chest, trying to rub out the pain. I almost started to cry but then I recognized where I was. I looked around the train, trying to find anyone that was acting like me who saw the incident.
Everyone was normal! They were standing up or seating down reading the newspaper like nothing happened. Was it normal for them to see someone collapse on a train and then go about their day? What the hell is wrong with these people? Do they not care or what? I was starting to get very angry.
A beep in the air sounded above my head.
"We are coming to the next stop. Please gather your belonging as you exit the train. Watch your step and thank you for choosing Tokyo Public Underground Subway." An electronic feminine voice spoke overhead. "Have a nice day."
I've been on this train too long. I was surprised no one noticed but that's how it is in the bigger cities, I guess. I really needed to get off this damn train.
"It's still on!" I whispered to myself when I looked at laptop beside me. It had tipped over to its side when I turned around but, miraculously, the laptop was still recording.
I balanced the laptop on my lap while reaching over my purchases to get the cell phone hidden on top of everything. I looked at the laptop screen as I held the cell phone. It recorded even the smallest movement including when I turned the camera on myself.
"I look like a wreck." I said softly with a small smile to the camera. Having had only a glimpse of my outward appearance, there was nothing I could do until I got out of here.
With that in mind, I promptly turned off both cell phone and laptop, putting the laptop back in its bag and stuffing my cell in my back pocket. I felt the train begin to slow as I collected my stuff.
The train had come to a stop. With a hiss, the door suddenly opened in front of me. Although, I was the first one off the train and into the overcrowded station, I had to turn to the side a bit to get off the train and walk through security.
I left the Shinjuku district early in hopes of missing rush hour. But, now, I had to deal with it.
Seeing as I am not good with crowds, I don't have the patience or self-control, for that matter, to handle the mass of people around me. Often, I start to get nervous and dizzy leading me to a panic attack. The main reason I don't like crowds is the dead people within it.
Normally, a person, excluding me, walks right through a soul or ghost. I don't think they even realize it; it depends on the person honestly. Others may feel cold or hot after experiencing such a thing. Some stop and yell in fright, looking around confused or bewildered but then go about their business. I, personally, never seen someone knock into a ghost causing them to both fall down to the ground then try their best to pretend like they tripped over their own two feet like me.
But now is not the time.
When I passed security, I went toward the nearest wall to get away from the masses, simply, because I couldn't run into anyone over there. Unless someone came through the wall with my back leaning against said wall and my bags clenching in my hands, I felt a little bit safer. I surveyed the room to claim some posture while stopping to catch my breath.
Two ghosts were to the left of me crouched by the wall, talking to one another while smoking. Don't know why they have cigarettes since they are dead. Maybe nicotine is still addictive in the afterlife. Or it's a habit like that old hag of my hometown library had told me when I asked her why she still was smoking as she knows she is dead. The librarian promptly named Ms. Reference (I called her old hag as a term of endearment in my part), who had died while trapped inside the library during a fire, was a nice ghost. In my opinion, anyway.
She was pleasant to talk to as long as you respected her library. And it was her library; not in title but by haunt given that she died while working there. Anyone could notice her by the sudden drop of temperature when she walked into an aisle, even though they didn't know it was her. She protected her books and other library properties like a mother hen watching her chicks. So, the downtown library had the lowest theft or missing book rate in the county thanks to her constant stalking habits.
I know the reason why she has done this for the past 50 some-odd years. After getting to know her, she confined to me how she died. It was in the newspapers I researched that there had been a massive fire; no one could have survived the flames but the cause of the fire was unclear and remained so. But from what Ms. Reference has told me, I came up with an account of what really happened.
Ms. Reference had a long day that day before the fire. She had stayed up to catalog a section from PL to PS of the system that could not wait till tomorrow morning. Thus, she pulled an all nighter and had to work that next day for the opening of the new downtown library.
Everything had gone without a hitch but she reached her limit by closing time. Ms. Reference had then sat in her office, the first time that day, to relax. She poured herself a drink and lit up a cigarette. Inhaling a puff, she was proud of what she had done and was anxious for tomorrow. She wasn't aware of cigarette between her fingers as she dosed off to sleep.
The next thing she remembered was waking up to chaos. Gray smoke darkened the surrounding area where the library used to be. Ms. Reference had told me it took a long time before she was aware of the fact she was dead. Even now that old hag feels responsible for the library.
I guess that is why whenever I see a ghost smoking, I think of her.
I feel calmer now. Weird. I thought to myself as I had been staring at them, absentmindedly. Oh, shit. They're looking at me. I turned quickly around, hoping they would leave me alone. All right! It's time to get going.
I blindly pushed through the crowd of people, trying my best to avoid ghosts. I forced my way to the front of the station, bumping and knocking people aside. As I passed through the automatic opening doors, I smacked into the chilly December wind, already missing the heat by the time I'm out the door.
Wait, this place looks familiar...really familiar. Where the hell am I?
I cranked my head back to see a big "Shinjuku Station" sign above me. You got to be fucking kidding me...? Honestly, I couldn't believe this shit. After all this trouble, I got nowhere. I am back to where I stared from. I think I'm going to cry; I'm so pissed.
I flagged down a taxi cab passing me by. I am, now, positive that taxis will be my only means of transportation by the end of the week since I'm banned from buses and currently the subway system, too. Or maybe I'm just being my normal paranoid self. Luckily, the cab stopped ahead of me.
I chucked all my bags across the backseat when the cab door flung open automatically, telling the driver my address as I sat down. We are heading toward the freeway which would take me clear across the other side of Tokyo.
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I got home around 8 o'clock that night. Of course, the traffic should be considered illegal. I mean, it should not take 45 minutes to get on the highway and another 2 hours to get across Tokyo than pay for an over priced ride. But I had no choice; I wanted to go home bad.
As I took off my shoes at the entrance way, I wondered if I made the right choice by going home first or should I have gone to the police while I was in the taxi? That was bothering me the whole car ride. I made my way to my apartment.
I fished out my apartment key from my purse. Fumbling with getting the door to open, I finally felt safe as I heard the door click shut behind me. I sighed with relief.
"I'm home…but what am I supposed to do?" I whispered to myself.
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December 29, 2003 – Monday Night after Work at Tsukiko's apartment
I haven't done anything wrong…by doing nothing. In fact, I have been avoiding the issue. Trying to ignore this pressure in the back of my head that is probably my conscience. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. I have decided, for now, that I am going to wait until this all blows over. The whole Kira thing, I mean.
It's too dangerous to go to the police when Kira is still around. I'll be put into their system when I don't want to and Kira could track me down and label me a criminal 'cause he/she thinks they're God and then I will be killed 'cause I might have evidence against him/her. Really dead like the people I see everyday.
I don't want to die. It's that simple. I'll just wait 'til L catches him/her then I'm in the green. But life isn't that easy. I tried to go back to everything being normal but…
Stop it, Tsukiko! You have got to get it together. There is no point getting all paranoid and worked up about this. I shook out the pessimistic thoughts. Nobody is trying to kill you …yet.
The night I got back home from what I call the "second incident", I, in all honesty, had a nervous breakdown where I cried most of the night and didn't get much sleep. I hid the laptop in the back of my closet under most of my clothes. And haven't touched it since, not even looked at the recording to find out what really happened. Maybe I don't wanna know. Curiosity killed the cat and, as stated above, I didn't want to be killed.
I used up Sunday to calm down and slept the whole day through. Though, I had planned to go see Lord of the Rings: Return of the King in the theaters that evening (It would have been hilarious to see it subbed in Japanese).
Life kept going on and I couldn't have stayed shut in my apartment. I had bills to pay, people to see, and a survival instinct to live properly. In a sense, I got over it and moved on. I already went back to work and completed the day without trouble. Everything was normal except the constant nagging in the back of my head.
Common sense would tell me to stop glancing at the closet every few moments and pay attention to the TV that was showing Bleach reruns at the moment. But I knew what was in there and what I was itching to get my hands on. My only-used-once laptop covered with clothes as I was too lazy to organize. I wanted to know if this shame was worth it.
That was it; I surrender to temptation. I got up to turn off Bleach since I lost the remote to the TV some time ago. Then, pulled out can of soda from the mini-fridge and walked over to my closet, sliding the door open. I pushed way my wardrobe to find the computer store bag carrying my laptop inside at the bottom of the pile.
Taking the laptop, I placed it in the middle of my dining table/desk, pulling the computer out of the bag. I plugged it into the wall socket and booted up the laptop. As I waited, I popped open the can and took a sip, then I realized that the window was wide open. Anyone walking by could see me!
I hurried over to close the window before someone walked down the street. Luckily, no one was out there this time of the night as I stuck my head out the window. I slid the window shut and locked it, closing the curtains as I walked back to the table.
The computer was done by the time I sat back down. I skimmed through some menus 'til I got the right camera application. I saw the file had a couple of gigs worth of footage and clicked it because it was the only file in the computer window.
The screen automatically popped up another window that looked like the Japanese equivalent of Windows Media Player. The starting frame of the FBI Agent on the subway was pictured on the screen. I looked to the time frame of the actual recording; it was about almost two hours of video. I didn't know I had that much to look through. This was going to take forever.
I pressed play and made the video full screen on the laptop. I continued to watch about ten minutes of the FBI Agent typing away on his computer until I decided this was going to take too long. Don't get me wrong, I was really focusing on him and his movements. But it got real boring, real fast. And I remembered that I had watched him at this time. So, this part had to be the same.
I had watched the FBI Agent until he got off the subway while I was on watching with the same computer. Scrolling the seek adjuster bar, I viewed the last few moments as he got off the train, then the camera jerked and repositioned itself at a wide angle that suggested that I had bumped my cell phone when I watched the FBI Agent die outside the train. But apparently at the same time as I moved to get a better view of the FBI Agent, someone had moved into the camera's view.
The angle of the camera didn't help me figure out who that was. All I saw was a person in a white sports/jogger suit but the head was cut off the screen. That same person stood for a moment than turned and walked down to the other side of the train and out to another train.
I fasted forwarded 'til the end of the tape. Pretty much nothing happened afterward except when I turned the camera on me. But that could be edited out later if need be. It seemed surreal to watch it happen again; to relive the experience. If I go to the police right now, I could give them this video and let them sort everything out without me being involved.
Maybe I could send this in the mail to them. Burn a CD with the video on it, then put the CD in an envelope, making sure I didn't leave any fingerprints or hair inside, and travel to another city like Kyoto and ship it to National Police Agency Building in Tokyo. And no one would be the wiser.
Except no one would understand what really happened. And what if the package doesn't make it to the Kira case? It's not like I can write in big letters on the package: Evidence Against Kira, Please Look!
Unless I write a letter explaining what happened …but that would further pull me into suspicion because I am hiding myself from the police like Kira. It would probably be treated as a bomb treat and everyone will come across it the wrong way. The police might think I'm a terrorist like Kira.
Or worse, L might think I'm Kira! Oh, Crap. I'm in serious trouble … if this gets out.
I have been absentmindedly staring at the wall in front of me until I realized I needed to stop daydreaming about my certain doom. I abruptly stood up and grabbed my laptop, turning off the computer and unplugged the charger. Throwing the closet door open, I placed my laptop on the floor and covered it with random clothes, making sure nobody could find it. I felt a little bit safer for now.
It was getting late and I have work in the morning. So, I got ready for bed by laying out the futon. After turning off the overhead light, I quickly got under the covers and slowly fell asleep. But my dreams were filled with blood and subways.
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December 31, 2003 – Wednesday Evening At A Shinto Temple
I'm so happy that I have a job even if it pays low, about 900 yen an hour (around $7.50 USD). It was expensive living near Tokyo and working part time while paying for school. But now I work full time at the bookshop until I go to collage.
I work at a little bookshop in the community around my apartment. It's surrounded by other small shops like food stalls and clothes vendors that support the district. And it's only a few streets away from my home. So, I never had to travel that far when I got home from high school.
Plus, I get employee discounts on all store property. If any new books that were coming out, I could put on layaway and have first grabs at if my boss said it was okay. There are plenty of books in English and other languages besides Japanese. The work wasn't too hard and I am pretty good at it as well.
Basically, I stock up all the shelves, make sure everything is clean from the counter to the floor and, on the occasion, work the cash register if nobody is on hand. I couldn't quite understand the bookshop's catalog system at first but after a few weeks I got the hang of it. I must say I cheated a little bit.
Half way through my trainee training, I relied heavily on my ItemFinder technique (This is an ability that I either say what I want to find or think of it inside my head and a spark of light flashes where the object is or in the direction of in my line of sight) to keep up with my boss. That's probably why my organizational skills are good. Well, this is my first job and I wasn't going to lose it to my sloppiness.
My boss isn't that bad either; he is the owner of the store. Like most of the retailers on this street and around the area, these are run by a family that has own the store for generations. Sometimes when the work load is too much for the parents and there kids are away at collage that they hire help.
That was the case for me, anyway. Besides, today is a national holiday. I asked my boss for today and tomorrow off and would go back to work on Friday. When he said yes, I was ecstatic; this was my first Japanese New Year's. It is considered the biggest festival in Japan and that is saying something since everyday is a festival day somewhere.
Last weekend, I had bought a long-sleeved kimono and obi for this event. The kimono was light lavender that faded to a darker lilac at the bottom and in was accented with a floral design on the sleeves. The obi was a navy blue that matched. It takes at least two people to put on the kimono, so, I had asked one of my neighbors if they could help me. In return, I gave her some omochi (rice cakes) and sake that was made this time of the year. Not to brag but I think I look cute in this.
I had made my way towards many temples in and around Tokyo. I lost count of my sixth visit but I was slowly getting the hang of this. It wasn't too surprising to see hundreds of people gathered around a mikoshi (portable shrine) on the streets or see people walking around in kimono while walking to a temple. It was like the whole nation was having one big party!
I had enough of walking in this geta (clogs) all day long. I swear I was getting blisters from just standing here waiting to ring a bell and give an offering to God. I've seen just about all I need to know of temples and I know I broke too many Japanese customs to get away with it.
I fell into a natural temple going pattern of entering pass the torii, cleanse the spirit before come in the main shrine, ring a bell, throw a few yen, say a prayer and then leave. I can say that I now know the difference between a Shinto temple and a Buddhist temple. This is going to be my last temple.
Finally I was able to reach the bell. Pulling on the bell's rope, I pulled down hard, making sure my bell echoed through the shrine. I quickly tossed in a 500 yen coin and clapped my hands twice as if all that noise couldn't get God's attention.
Please, Lord, this is the same as all the temple prayers. I am praying to God, not a fox. Just wanted to make that clear. I prayed, pressing both my hands together. Please, protect me from harm and let me get into a good college. Amen.
As I turned to walk out, a priestess had gathered a group across the room. I walked over there with intent to find out why. In back of the priestess, there was a wall full of tiny drawers.
"Come here for your fortune!" The priestess shouted loudly so she could be heard. "Take this," She lifted up a metal cylinder shaped tube above her head. "And shake it while thinking of your future and pull out the number on the fortune stick. Then," She followed the wall of drawer, not even looking away from the crowd. "Find your number on a drawer and pull out your fortune!"
"Now, you try." The priestess smiled at me as she placed the cylinder tube in my hands. I did want she demonstrated and pulled out a Popsicle stick with the numbers 5634 written. As I searched my numbers, the priestess followed me. Pulling out a small drawer that was thankfully in the middle, I picked of a piece of paper and thanked the priestess as I walked away from the crowd behind me. I found some space near a lantern as I read this message that was in English, my eyebrows shot up:
"Some things are too good to last,
Others you must work hard for.
Keep your mind clear and your heart pure.
The path comes at a crossroads,
Choose your true judgment in strife.
Your heart is your life."
I gripped the paper so tight that it was shaking badly. I really wanted to stay and see the fireworks but I, then, decided that it would be better if I go home. I felt a sudden change of heart.
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January 1, 2004 – Thursday Afternoon – 1:00
My original plan was to place an anonymous tip. I stood up all night coming up with a plan I was pretty proud of. But I forgot two important things: 1) I needed sleep prior to my mission and almost slept through it and 2) You can't work on an empty stomach. Those requirements had to be met before the mission or you will wake up disoriented and hungry.
The idea was to ride a taxi to the other side of the city. Drop off at a public place then walk a couple blocks and find the nearest pay phone. Leave my tip to the police, hail a cab back home and be done by dinnertime. Simple as that.
As it turns out, no one answers the freaking phone anymore. Everything was going as planned but the freaking NPA put me on hold. I really didn't expect that the first time so I went through the steps again. By the fifth try, I gave up. I got a busy tone, an answering machine, and got hung up twice. Let's just say I wasn't pleased with their customer service.
Which is why I made another stupid decision to take it in myself. Didn't someone say if you need to get the job done right, do it yourself. Well, this seemed to be the case.
I had asked the taxi driver to take me a few blocks from the NPA because I don't take buses and the subway for a reason nowadays. I would walk the rest of the way which I'm doing now. I had all my evidence to prove my story: my laptop, my cell phone, even a newspaper clipping of the Busjacker, Kiichiro Osoreda's, death. But was it enough?
I could see the front of the building ahead and I slowed down a bit. My anxiety started to kick in and make me dizzy. I had to seat down somewhere and found a small stone bench to seat on. I dropped my purse and bag carrying my laptop beside me.
I had my back facing the building as I positioned myself so no one could identify me if they walked out the front doors. Vaguely, I watched the flow of traffic without really focusing on anything particular. Funny how it seems so normal out here with the snow on the ground and my breath dissolving into the air. Well, it is January now and the forecast said on and off chance of snow. But I wasn't shivering from the cold.
Wrapping my coat closer to keep warm, I had to move around before I really started to freeze. Not looking where I'm going, my feet led me to the front doors of the NPA building. I didn't realize I was there until I grabbed the door handle and stopped myself short. What if this is a big mistake? What if everything went horrible wrong like Kira found out my real name, thus, connecting my family's names, killing them off and finally killing me?
Yes, that seemed very unlikely but it could happen. I mean that I could be signed my own death warrant if I walk through these doors? I reasoned with myself. Taking a few steps away from the doors, I leaned on a pillar for support as I tried to think. It had started to snow after a while but I didn't become aware of it.
"Your heart is your life." I whispered to myself. I had thought the fortune had meant that I should follow my heart and it would decide my fate. Instead of me being so cowardly and not facing my fears; look where it has gotten me.
Half because I was scared and half because of snow falling on me, I started feeling numb and couldn't feel my toes. All I did was gawk at that stupid door handle like I could open the door with my mind. I can't do that; I'm not that good. Suddenly, I heard a yell behind me that almost gave me a heart attack.
"I said, do you need help, ma'am?" I turned around as I heard that question directed at me. Folding up his umbrella and shaking off the melted snow, I got a good look at his face. He wore a damp three piece suit with a dark tie. It seemed to me like either he was having a bad hair day or his hair was naturally an afro. He had thick eyebrows, Asian eyes, a big nose and grin plastered on his face. I couldn't help but be flattered when he opened the door for me.
I blinked, forgetting where I was. "Thank You." I said to the man as he tucked his umbrella under his arm and walked passed him into the NPA. Clutching my things to me, I realized there was no going back and headed for the reception desk.
Walking straight into trouble isn't the most intelligent thing to do.
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A/N: YAY!!! I finished this chapter but you all will have to forgive my tardiness but some thing in my life had to come first!
I wrote a little over 5,000 words. My biggest chapter yet. I promise you all that this story does have a beginning, a middle, and an end. It will take some time to get it done but stay with me here.
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I have to thank my reviewers:
-Asa-Hoshi-, M a i r 9 5 1 211, moonlight-shadow11, Adorkable93, fanXforever, katanbuilder3, pinguina, White Alchemist Taya, Ryuuzaki-hugs, Passe on an Angel, Shininghope of RiverClan and all the people who read my story and put it on their favorites and alerts.
THANK YOU!
- Mandy