Chapter II: Call I Ever Wanted

"Taki, Taki, Taki..." Driving through the deserted midnight streets of Niihama, Heishiro Mitsurugi unknowingly tapped his steering wheel in an impatient manner as he repeated the name written on the card that was discovered just over twelve hours ago. There were many possibilities as to what it could be: an acronym, the murderer, the victim, the next target, or even a distraction. Yet, even if it were a meaningless word meant only to throw him off, being that it was the only lead the investigation team had, Heishiro had no choice but to treat it as anything but. Not only that, but after working on the force for just over three years now, he had come to learn that it was very rare for any killer, be it amateur or pro, to use such tactics to throw off their pursuers. It would be simply easier – and safer – to leave nothing at all.

With his head filled with nothing but material containing to the current case, Heishiro eventually made it home to his little apartment which had, over the course of his career, become his second office. He ambled up to the fourth floor of the building, ignoring any of his neighbors who had passed him on the way, until the door leading into his designated home was before him. As he had done for the past years, he turned the knob and as usual, was greeted with the sight of his dark apartment and the scent of stale cigarettes.

Without the need for any source of light, he made his way through his living room, instinctively dodging any obstacles that may be in the way until he reached his kitchen counter. There, he switched on the light switch, bringing life to the dismal room, and turned his attention to his phone, dusty from days of neglect, and took note of the beeping red button. Groaning inwardly, he wanted to ignore it, knowing the persons who insisted on calling him, but found himself pressing the button anyway.

"You have five new messages," the female answering machine told him. "Press—" She was cut off as Mitsurugi had beaten her to the punch; pushing down the "1" button to replay all his messages. As the first recording went off, a message about his non-existent credit debt, Heishiro began walking about his living room, throwing his coat off onto his armchair and grabbing the stack of unread letters sitting on his coffee table.

Just as he was flipping through his bills and coupons, the second message began; this one being from an actual person.

"Heishiro," the female voice started off, "it's Setsuka…I tried calling you earlier, but you didn't answer. I know I'm being impatient – telling you this over an answering phone – but…I got the job. I'm excited to hear back from you. Love you…"

As the phone moved on to the next message, Heishiro paid it no mind as the last two words of Setsuka's recording replayed in his mind. Love you…? Heishiro found it hard for him to swallow those words. Setsuka was a woman he had come upon during one of his investigations. Her father was the victim in the case, murdered by poison, and although everyone pointed the finger at her, it was Heishiro who was the only one who had any faith in her. Through sheer work and determination, he had unraveled the case and with the correct evidence, the court was able to give her a "Not Guilty" verdict.

Since then, they had been attending a few lunches and dinners together, and even, to Heishiro's regret, shared a night together. She was a beautiful woman, that he couldn't deny, but the feelings she had for him, they weren't mutual. The idea of spending his life with her, or anyone for that matter, created feelings of uncertainty and brought about an uncomfortable air. Though cliché, Heishiro honestly had to admit that it truly wasn't her, but him. He would much rather spend the remainder of his life alone, just as he has for the last nine years; the only company he needed being his reports and worn down furniture.

Hence the reason why he always failed to respond to Setsuka's advances. He wanted to push her away, give her the sense that he didn't want her without saying it upfront. But from what he heard through office rumors, some women actually like the kind of men that gave off that aloof air. Was that why she insisted on pursuing their relationship that Heishiro had long flushed down the toilet?

As thoughts of Setsuka ran through his mind, the last message stole his attention as a shy, gentle voice echoed through the apartment. It was the voice of the one woman he had allowed into his life. "Good morning, Heishiro…It's Ai…It's been a while since I last heard from you. I hope you're doing well and not overdoing it as usual. I really miss you and wish I could see you again, but I know how busy you are…Don't forget to give us a call once in a while; it would be nice to hear your voice again. Goodbye."

"Ai…" Heishiro repeated the name of his caller and rose to his feet, his legs instinctively carrying him to the phone. He picked up the receiver and prepared to dial in a number, but stopped when his eyes caught sight of the time displayed on the device.

1:47… She was long asleep by now, and interrupting her in the middle of her night was the last thing he wanted to do. Besides, he thought, replacing the receiver back onto its designated spot, what was he going to say?

Sighing, he stepped away from the phone and returned to his sofa where he found his cigarettes and lighter sitting in wait. Without a second thought, he lighted one up and leaned back, letting the cushion absorb him. For the first time today, his mind wasn't filled with the bloody, pale images of an unfortunate young lady or the name "Taki" as he thought of Ai, his one last source of happiness in his dreary life. And how did she claim such a title? By being his little sister.

~XxxxxxxxX~

It was well beyond midnight, the clock nearing just a quarter past two, yet Toki, seated in his armchair beside the hearth, showed no signs of descending into a night of peaceful dreams. Beside him sat a steaming mug of bitter black coffee which he occasionally took a sip from as his eyes roamed the pages of a journal he held between his fingers. Within the pages his eyes skimmed were the writings of a young girl who grew up watching the world from behind a foggy window.

Through her journal, the young girl recalled the day she saw her mother's body hanging from the ceiling and the moment it was driven away after it was wrapped in a plastic bag. She recalled the days after, the days in which all she had left was her father. The scent of cigarettes, the clanking of beer bottles and the voices of unrecognizable men were the things she associated with those days as the stench and sounds accompanied her to sleep every night.

But gradually, her rowdy nights began to decrease as her father began to disappear unannounced for one to two days a week. In time, his absences increased until at last, his appearance was no longer a commodity in his own household. With her father having been gone for just over two weeks, the men in uniform finally arrived at her house and without a word to the girl they took her from her home and deposited her into an orphanage.

Her caretakers, though kind and loving to the other orphans, kept her hidden from the world and excluded her from the other children - her very presence being a threat to them. Yearning to be with the others, she watched them through her bedroom window, imagining that she was in their circle; throwing that ball with them or joining them in their game of tag.

Her voice stolen from her after years of abuse and neglect, the power of words, the chance to vocalize the feelings within her heart, were out of her grasp. So she revealed her heart's agony through pen and paper.

All her years of loneliness, sadness, and confusion were recorded in the book Toki held.

"Even after all these years..." He whispered, as he traced the floral imprints on the leather cover, "You still cling to this grudge of yours...?"

There was a rustle from the corner of the room where the firelight failed to reach and from it stepped a shadowy figure that could only be distinguished as a human. Due to poor lighting, very little of his features could be pointed out, though it seemed Toki knew the man quite well regardless.

"Unlike the rest of this world," the stranger's icy cold voice spoke, "my head isn't filled with clouds and rainbows. I don't simply brush off the things I don't want to deal with."

"Instead," Toki responded, "you're driven mad by them. You've spent your entire life planning your vengeance; hunting a man who's been dead for years. When will you realize that no matter what you do, no matter whose life you take, what happened all those years can never be altered?"

There was a dark chuckle that emanated from the mysterious figure. "You're right," his icy voice agreed, "Killing one person will never revive those I've lost nor will they bring back my childhood...But my actions aren't for the past, they are for the sake of the future. Everyone I have and will kill, are all guilty of their crimes and with their deaths, this nation is one step closer to being a better place."

Toki looked back down at the book in his hands, thinking of the little girl that once held the same book in her's, and narrowed his eyes, that, despite his years of life, have failed to age. "You try to justify murder, claiming that it's for the betterment of the people, but I know your true intentions. Why else would you be targeting Taki when she knows nothing of her family's history?"

There was an eerie silence that followed, broken seconds later by the shadow's empty tone. "The sins of her father...Since he failed to atone for them, they've become her burden. You can't expect all of his crimes to simply go unpunished by his death, do you? Someone has to pay..."

"And how is that just?" Toki was finding it hard to control his anger as he realized how hard he was gripping the journal.

"You tell me."

Very quickly, Toki's rage diminished at the man's three little words that, with prior knowledge of the man's history, held a whole textbook of meanings. "You've made a mistake coming here tonight then," he digressed, "Because I'm not going to let you touch her."

Judging by his shadow's movements, the mysterious man was shaking his head while gentle "tsk, tsk, tsk"'s could be heard. "Do not worry Toki because she's not the one I plan to kill..." He reached into the pocket of his coat and retrieved an object. As he held it outwards, the firelight revealed it to be a pistol holding .40 caliber rounds. Aiming the end at the back of the principal's head, he gave a devilish smirk. "At least not yet..."

BANG!

~XxxxxxxxX~

Startled awake by an unsettling dream, Taki, clutching her chest, sat upright in her bed and shifted her eyes to the clock that illuminated the time.

3:00. She still had three hours left before she would have to wake up and get ready. Propping her elbow up on her bent knee, she began to massage her temple as she tried to recall the last time she had had such a vivid dream. Placing her hand back down on the mattress beside her, she felt something amiss and immediately shifted her eyes to her side. So that was it!

With a gasp of realization, she got onto her hands and knees and began crawling over her bed, feeling her way through the blankets and covers as she tried to find the cure to her nightmares. A mysterious lump on the floor caught her eye and, knowing full well what this lump was, Taki, with an outstretched hand, snatched up the object and reeled it into her arms.

The moonlight sneaking into her bedroom revealed it to be a stuffed brown moose, its fur made of the softest material to resemble sheep's wool. Looking down at the button eyes that looked back up at her, Taki almost chuckled at her childishness. She knew not her age, but she doubted she was young enough to be sleeping with a stuffed animal.

Leaning back down onto her pillow, she pulled the moose up against her chest as one would a precious child and shut her eyes, taking in the scent of the doll she held. It smelled of chocolate as its makers had taken the term "chocolate mousse" a little too literally. She was surprised that the scent had remained even after all these years.

The moose seemed to have the power to ward off bad dreams as Taki failed to recall the last time she suffered a nightmare with the doll at her side. Toki had learned of this odd habit of hers and chuckled at her silliness.

"Honestly Taki. The way you sleep with that toy of yours, I fear your husband will grow envious of it." He had told her.

"Then I will not marry for I don't see myself getting rid of it anytime soon."

He shook his head and shrugged his wide shoulders. "I f I knew you'd become so attracted to it, I don't think I would have ever given it to you."

Taki smiled as she recalled their conversation. Maybe that was why she loved her chocolate "moose" so much; it was the second gift her father had given her. The first, of course, being one she loved even more…

Her life.

~XxxxxxxxX~

The bullet ricocheted off the mantle as Toki ducked just before the metal was given the opportunity to strike his cranium. Though conscious of the weapon aimed at him, he didn't think the man was willing to fire. Fortunately his nerves reacted quicker than his mind as it just saved his life.

"Damn…" he grumbled reaching underneath his coffee table. Strapped to the bottom of the tabletop was a gun which he was able to retrieve just milliseconds before the intruder had rounded the sofa and stood before him.

Frozen in time, the two men gazed at each other, both pointing a gun at the other. The man from the shadows, dressed in a well-tailored dark suit, narrowed his eyes at the older man he had on the ground. "You dare point a gun at me? After all you've put me through?" Though almost undetectable through all the ice, Toki was able to hear a falter in his voice…A tinge of pain.

With a well-glossed shoe, the man kicked the gun from Toki's hand before landing that same foot down against the principal's chest. "My next bullet won't miss, Toki," he whispered, the end of the gun looking down at his adversary. "Any words you'd wish for me to pass onto Taki?"

Toki's life, a life made of a colorful background, flashed before his eyes. Much, to his dismay, were events filled with unearned wealth, greed, blood, and death. Piles upon piles of those images played themselves out, but among the many horrible images was the smile of a little girl. The little girl he had saved from a life of endless misery and made into a full-fledged woman. The image of her smiling face faded to be replaced by the man's hovering above him.

Had he not saved Taki that fateful day, taken her under his wing, would her eyes be as soulless as this man's? Would it be her hovering over him, one trigger away from ending his life?

"There are many things I regret in my life," Toki started out slowly, "But my biggest regret is being unable to save you…"

The man narrowed his gaze, sensing the sincerity in the old man's tone. "Meaningless words spoken years too late…" He whispered sadly, slowly bringing the trigger down…

~XxxxxxxxX~

Though it ended with a bang, the man had hardly noticed the moment of Toki's death. Everything was silent for him as he gazed at Toki's body, limp and lifeless as blood soaked his white button-up and seeped into the carpeting; staining it with a dark red color. The bullet had pierced straight through his heart, ending his life almost instantly and painlessly.

It was the best goodbye gift he could think to offer the only man who had ever cared for him…

A/N: Merry Christmas (Eve) my readers! I apologize for the lack of Mitsurugi and Taki in this chapter. And for the random chocolate "moose" doll, that is in fact a real doll my father gave to me and in incorporating it into my story, I thought I would better recreate Taki's feelings as we both love our fathers' gift to us for more than the reason that it's a freaking cute/awesome stuffed animal. (And yes, it does smell like chocolate.) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for the kind reviews. Looking forward to seeing you in the New Year!