The next morning came rather quick. The storms had passed and the sun was starting to dry up the puddles of water left by the rain. Birds chirped as the light blue skies brightened up. The sky was bare with only a few feathery clouds here and there.
Hikari awoke to the buzzing of her alarm clock. Even though it was a Saturday she had forgotten to turn off the alarm before going to bed. Rays of sunshine shined in through the white blinds, slightly opened at the window. By the window was a wood computer desk. Placed on top was a reading lamp, a few books, a calendar, and a laptop computer. Across from the desk was a queen-size bed with white feather pillows, and a plush, soft, white comforter.
Hitting the snooze button, she yawned as she sat up. Looking over to the clock, she sighed seeing the time, "Seven-thirty, guess I forgot about the alarm. . . then again. . . it was rather hectic last night," she said to herself, grabbing a white robe from her bed post. Rising to her feet, she wrapped the robe around her, loosely tying it as she made her way from her bed toward the bathroom to take a shower.
She spent the next fifteen minutes in the shower then after that, returned to her room to get dressed. Knowing that she would probably spend her day at home, taking a break for her weekly activities, she dressed in to comfortable clothing; a pair of lounge pants, purple plaid and a white long-sleeved shirt.
Leaving her bedroom, she strolled down the hallway into the living room, where she had left the notebook the previous night. Walking past the coffee table she made her way into the kitchen, opening the cabinet. She made her breakfast and started the coffee maker then walked out of the kitchen.
Walking across the living room again, she walked toward the front door. Opening it, she walked outside, grabbing the newspaper off of her doorstep. Closing the door behind her, she returned to the kitchen.
She ate her breakfast as she looked through the news paper. Finishing it, she cleaned up her dishes, rinsing them off in the sink. She opened the cabinet beside the sink, grabbing a coffee cup. She poured a cup of coffee and returned to the table, continuing to read the paper.
As she was reading, one of the headlines caught her attention, 'Prime suspect in Misaki Tsubasa murder case found dead,' the paper read. She stared at the words, not believing what she was seeing. Her eyes scanned the article finding the cause of death, a heart attack. According to news reporter, he died right after his press interview.
Scared she dropped the paper, looking to the living room. Slowly, she rose to her feet and walked, cautiously, toward the coffee table, where she had left the notebook, wide open. She reached down, picking up the book and looked at the name she had wrote in anger.
"It has to be a coincidence, I can't control death. . ." she tried to assure herself, even though she knew deep down that it was her fault that the man had died. As she tried to reason with herself over the matter she began to wonder why she should care about the man dying, he was the one responsible for killing her mother, why should she show sympathy for the likes of him. No, he was a human, just like every other, and she wasn't the one in right to pass judgment upon him. But was she considered a murderer now? Even though she was angry and would never mean anyone harm, was she guilty of the death of him? As these questions ran through her mind, dangerous answers began to appear as she read the rules on the side, starting to understand. Not wanting to see anymore, she tossed the book to the floor. It slid under the couch and remained there over the course of three days.