Disclaimer: Well, I had a few people ask for a sequel, so here it is! Hope y'all like it! It's just reactions, funeral, mystery and such. Anyway, same as first chapter.
Insanity
Part 2
The gentle patter of footsteps seemed loud in the unusual quiet of the clinic. Isshin noticed this the minute he entered his household, and looked around. Karin wasn't at home; she was staying over at a friend's house. But Yuzu was in the kitchen, cooking for the family that never seemed to have time to eat together.
But Ichigo wasn't anywhere to be found; he was probably up in his room, as usual.
Isshin sighed and plopped himself down on the sofa, sniffing the air appreciatively.
A scent reached him, one he recognized almost instantly after working in a clinic for most of his life. It was metallic, salty some might even say. It was something he'd smelled nearly every day, from the smallest cut to the largest lacerations on a body.
Blood. The body's most vital liquid.
It was stronger, though, than it should be; he smelled more than he should, as if a body had been drained of blood and left in the sun too long. It was something he'd never expected to find in his own home, after all his patients had gone home.
Isshin stood, uncertain, before glancing over at Yuzu. She didn't seem to notice anything was wrong. Shrugging, he turned and walked into the hallway, slowly making his way up the stairs. The smell of blood only grew stronger the farther he walked up, and seemed to be originating from his son's room.
Unsure of what to expect, fearing the worst, Isshin tried the door, only to find it locked. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the house keys he always kept with him, and unlocked the door.
Slowly, he opened the door.
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Yuzu jerked when she heard her father let out a shout, and quickly put down the bowl of frosting she was stirring, rushing up stairs as fast as her short legs would carry her.
She found her father standing in the doorway to her older brother's room, a hand held to his mouth.
"Dad, what's wrong? Is something the matter with Ichigo?" She asked, stepping foreward to glance around her father.
Isshin moved then; faster than she could fathom, he pulled her away, holding a hand over her eyes.
"Don't look. Go downstairs and call the police. Now."
Yuzu gulped; her father sounded anguished, strained. Giving him one last look, she nodded, and rushed downstairs at a slightly slower pace than she'd rushed up.
Isshin sighed heavily, before turning back to his eldest child's room. The sight was ghastly; it repulsed him to the highest level.
Ichigo was spread out on the bed, a bloody knife next to him. Blood covered his body, his clothes, his bedspread, and even pooled on his floor. There seemed to be too much, as if not all of it came from his body. It was even darker than it should be, almost black.
And the smell was horrible. Isshin gagged, holding a hand to his mouth once again. It was more than just metallic; it smelled as if Ichigo's body had been left out since morning, left to rot in the heat for the past 14 hours. Yet, at the same time, there was the underlying scent of crysanthynms, as if someone else had been in the room with him; a girl.
But that didn't seem right. No one had entered this room since Ichigo had locked it; the fact that it remained locked was proof of that.
Snapping out of his thoughts at a slight groan, Isshin rushed over to Ichigo, thinking that he had made the sound. Immediately he checked for a pulse, yet found none. Not that he had expected one.
But then, who had made that sound?
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Yuzu sat crying on the sofa, her head pillowed on Karin's shoulder. Both were shocked, to say the least, at their father's news.
"Karin! Ichigo...Ichigo...he-" Yuzu couldn't continue; she was overcome with sobs.
Karin didn't say anything; she had nothing to say. She'd noticed a change in her brother a while ago, and yet she couldn't do anything about it. Or, more precisely, she was too wrapped up in her own life to worry about her brother's.
"I'm sorry, Karin, Yuzu. I don't know how this could have happened. He looked like he...was stabbed. Yuzu, when did the detective say he could come?"
Yuzu rubbed her eyes and glanced up at her father, nodding as she tried to clear her head of grief. "In about half an hour, maybe. He wants to question the family, seperately, since the police are handling the rest."
Isshin nodded; he wasn't surprised. He'd expected no less, since he'd dealt with police a lot in his line of work. But right now, he had time to just sit with his family, wishing that he could start this day over, maybe save his son from this twisted fate.
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Detective Urahara glanced at the frail girl sitting in front of him, wishing for the first time that he didn't have to question the families on the day of the deaths. But he had to do it, and decided to get the worst of it done first.
"Tell me, Miss Kurosaki, did you ever notice anything...strange about your brother? Maybe, a different way he acted, a sudden change in personality?"
Yuzu glanced up, a hand to her mouth as she withheld tears that she knew were forming once again, before she nodded. "Yes. I think. But it was years ago. He started talking to himself, well, yelling, really. We'd be sitting quietly, when all the sudden he'd yell out. It scared me, but after a while, it became normal. And, he stopped, later on."
Detective Urahara nodded, and motioned for her to continue. She did, after a moments hesitation.
"Well, I began to notice a knife would go missing from the kitchen, since I'm the one who cooks. I thought maybe I'd misplaced it, because it would always show up again the next day. But, then the knife disappeared permanently. I haven't seen it since last year."
Detective Urahara nodded once again, and rummaged around in the box he'd placed on the table. Bringing out a clear bad, he held it up, asking,
"Is this the knife that went missing?"
Yuzu looked at it, and was unable to hold back her tears this time. She nodded as she began to sob, and the detective decided it was time to talk to the rest of the family. Karin was next.
"Now, Karin, I'm going to ask you the same thing I asked your sister. When did you first notice a change in your older brother, Ichigo?"
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Detective Urahara sighed; it'd been a long night's work. He'd talked to the family, and the friends of Ichigo Kurosaki, only to learn very little.
Apparently, Ichigo had begun to show signs of a changed personality many years ago, not long after the unprecidented death of his mother. It had progressed, then disappeared suddenly, when they had begun to notice the small nicks appearing on his body.
It was obvious that he'd been mentally unstable, and yet no one had been able to help him. It was just another sad, high school teenager story, with an overly-sensitive boy who was unable to bear life's struggles and killed himself.
It seemed, though, that if even one person had befriended him, if just one person had been able to reach him, he might not have killed himself.
To Detective Urahara, it was a sad story, one he heard everyday, and yet always unsettled him. He wished people paid more attention to those around him, as he'd been trained to do. But, there was nothing he could do about it now; the boy was already dead.
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The funeral of Ichigo Kurosaki was attended by few; it was, after all, a private affair. Only his family came, and his friends. Even Detective Urahara showed up, his sympathy on his face for everyone to see.
Yet, there was someone who showed up to see Ichigo as he laid in his coffin, to watch as his cold, tan yet pale body was lowed beneath the dirt and covered as the preacher spoke in a formal voice,
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."
This pale, dark figure stood among the humans, yet no one saw him; he seemed to be invisible. He stood, his white coat billowing about him in a non-existant voice that surrounded him. His voice, detached and yet so full of emotion, carried on the wind, reaching everywhere and nowhere.
"Ichigo, why? Why would you do such a thing? Could you not have waited? Did you have...break our promise to each other?"
A single pearl tear fell from cerulean eyes, a tear which gloved hands refused to brush away.
Just this once, he'd show emotion. Just this once, for the one he'd loved, yet left him all alone, he'd remove his emotional facade.
Well, what'd you think? I really don't like this as much as the first chapter, and I suppose I might have wanted it longer; not an obsession as with the first one. But I guess it turned okay...maybe. Can you guess who my mysterious guest is??? Review please! You know you want to!
:::hichigomate:::