Authors note: Yay, chapter 5 :D I am quite pleased with this myself, so I hope you´ll like it as well!
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!
AngelYao: Thank you so much for leaving a review! Firstly I wish to express my relief that you find this story exiting, and I too love "dark Kai". I find this particular fic challenging because I am balancing a thin line, I am still unsure wheater or not this Kai is actually in-character, so please let me know if you think I stray too far. Anyways, thanks again and I hope you´ll enjoy this new chapter! :D:D:D
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When the sea turns crimson
Chapter 5
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-All Saints Episcopal Church, Pasadena California, 2005-
When fortune smiles upon something as violent and ugly as revenge, it seems proof like no other, that not only does God exist, you're doing his will.
It was with this in mind that I approached the expertly maintained stone building in Pasadena, California, one sunny Thursday afternoon. I have never been religious; quite frankly I despise anything that tries to even remotely control my actions or way of life. Then again I can´t exactly claim to be a model citizen. The path of Christianity would be on accord with all that which I wished to achieve. And, furthermore a childhood spent behind bars because of Voltaire Hiwatari´s deceit had not exactly inspired any great faith in humanity as a whole as far as I was concerned.
Part of me was irritated over the fact that we had to meet here, in a church no less, but as with all other things precautions were necessary.
Like most traditional churches this one was also quite beautiful. From the outside it looked relatively modest; built from stone and with a few large windows and of course the looming tower. Otherwise it appeared quite plain, until I silently pushed the heavy oak doors open and slipped inside. It was wide and airy, with a high ceiling, and although the decorations were sparse at best the simplicity appealed to me somehow. Perhaps it could have been worse. Although I would have preferred meeting at a bar or café, I would admit that this was at least relatively hidden from the public eye, which was a good thing, at least for the moment.
The church was empty, apart from a slight figure sitting with his head bent in prayer on the second row. I strolled carelessly down in his direction, footsteps echoing as I went, before I silently slid in beside him.
"I would never have taken you for a Christian", he said after a while, sending me a sidelong glance.
"You were the one who insisted we meet in a church", I pointed out, immediately taking a dislike to his cheerful tone.
He shrugged, smiling slightly. His appearance never ceased to surprise me; for a computer geek I suppose Kenneth Denham looked the part, but still, he had this air about him that tended to get my attention. He was short and slight, with messy reddish hair and large Harry Potter glasses. From my perspective he didn´t appear to be a threat at first glance, only when he revealed his computer skills did it become apparent that he was indeed a force to be reckoned with. This was our second meeting, and although I was suspicious by nature I felt as though I could at least count on him. Just like me he had an evil eye to Voltaire Hiwatari, and that alone was more than enough to result in the two of us finding common ground.
"News?" I prompted, impatient as always.
"I guess you could say that", came the cryptic response.
With some difficulty he lifted a wooden box from the floor, handing it to me. I sent him a dubious look, before effortlessly taking it from him with one arm. The thing looked old, and the once polished wooden surface was full of marks and scratches. Part of me was startled when I spotted the two overlapping figure eights carved into the top, and with a sense of almost unfathomable loss I carefully touched it. Double infinity, our sign. The Hiwatari sign. I inhaled shakily, and was almost surprised by my own lack of hesitation when I opened the lid.
The first item was a photo, taken on my forth birthday. I could not recall who had taken it, nor where, but I suppose it didn´t matter. My mother was clutching me to her chest, smiling and laughing, her chestnut curls bouncing just beneath her shoulders. She looked radiant. My father was standing next to her, holding her hand and smiling down at me, adoration evident in his features.
It represented all that which I had lost, and furthermore all that which I could have had, had it not been for Voltaire Hiwatari. With a certain restraint I put it inside again, proceeding to quickly rifle through the rest of the box´s contents. A few articles, videotapes, more photos. One in particular caught my eye, and I picked it up, unable to hide the scowl. They were all there, Voltaire Hiwatari, Boris Balcov, Mr. Dickonson, Judy Tate.
"This is also yours, hidden in a deposit box it was not released before today, your 16th birthday", Kenny said.
He sounded hesitant, and I sent him a withering look. He had read it, of course he had, that little bastard.
"Sorry", he mumbled sheepishly.
I ignored him, opening the envelope with unsteady fingers.
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Dear Kai,
If you ever read this then I will be either dead or imprisoned.
Innocence never found its way back to me in the end. A jury of my peers found me guilty, but the public and many others convicted me way before my trial even started. The evidence Voltaire Hiwatari and his accomplices loaded against me was enough to submerge a whale. I can only take pity on those who do not fear the repercussions of their corruption. Karma is not a myth Kai… what goes around, will come back around.
My emotions clouded my judgment, and what I perceived to be true was in fact false. I lost sight of what was important, Kai. Family should always come first, and I should've protected you. I'm so sorry! I was blindsided by my own father´ s deception. My world was turned completely upside down because of his lies and I lost everything that mattered… so much more than you'll ever know, Kai.
From the moment of my arrest, I sat stupid and trusting, believing in a system rigged against me by the people I knew as friends in a life I no longer remember. The closer I get to the truth, the louder the whispered voices around me, plotting my execution, choosing the time. I know now that I'm trapped in a race between fate and freedom. Whichever wins out I am afraid I have already lost.
With this letter and the contents of this box I wish to give you a chance to discover the truth about what happened to flight 997. I realize that you have probably heard quite a few awful things about me, about what I supposedly did. This is why I beg you, as your father, to at least consider what is the actual truth, to look thoroughly and with a critical eye at the contents of this box. They will prove my innocence.
I have long since forgiven those responsible for what they did. It is my belief that the best revenge is forgiveness, so that the guilty might actually come to realize that they have done something wrong. I hope with time, that you will also be able to forgive me for leaving you, and that you will come to realize that there is still good in your grandfather.
If not, then I want you to contact an old friend of mine. His name is Kinomiya Ryu. He will help you.
Vladimir Hiwatari, your adoring father.
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I read the last cryptic sentence once more, stomach churning. Kinomiya Ryu. I was already going down a dark path, and unlike my father I was not so sure if I would be willing to forgive what they had done. Suddenly the contents of the box made sense, and I neatly folded the letter back in the envelope, placing it inside. Kenny looked at me, unsure it seemed.
"What do you make of it?" He wondered, eyes wide.
I gazed long and hard at the two overlapping figure eights, mind swirling. What did I make of it? …I had to find this Kinomiya Ryu.
"He has left me a roadmap for revenge", I slowly said.
"And I plan to follow it".
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-June 2012, present time-
I surveyed the room with mixed emotions, forcing myself to keep a polite, correct front. Hillary was babbling about some English author she had just read, and I gave the customary smile and asked questions or came with random observations whenever appropriate. She seemed delighted, and I noted with some irritation that she was becoming very friendly with me.
Of course, this was all part of my far reaching scheme, but that did not keep me from finding her incredibly annoying from time to time. We were strolling casually next to each other on the outskirts of the party, and she was clinging to my arm like there was no tomorrow, smiling and giggling all over the place. Of course she had no idea what we were really doing; stalking Max Tate. Poor little Miss Tachibana, forever ignorant of the greater order of things.
Mr. and Mrs. Tate were nowhere in sight, and inwardly I was delighted, although part of me had hoped for a more spectacular confrontation. However, before satisfaction could be mine, first things first. Judy Tates marriage was crumbling, next would be her relationship with her son. He seemed to be a decent guy, granted that he was a naive, spoiled brat, but coming from me that was almost a compliment. Currently he was in deep conversation with Mr. Dickinson, and I edged closer under the pretence of getting Hillary another drink. Max immediately lit up at the sight of her, turning around to greet us. Predictable as always I reflected drily, supressing a smirk.
"Hillary!" He exclaimed.
"You look great, how are you?"
Hillary smiled shyly at him, self-consciously brushing a stray lock of hair behind one ear.
"I am great Max, thank you. What about you, how is Harvard?"
He visibly paled at that, but quickly got his act together, smiling bleakly.
"I…good, its good", I said diplomatically.
Hillary smiled at him, clearly unsuspecting.
"Well, Max, Mr. D, This is Tyson, he just moved into the old beach house", she introduced me, smile widening.
We politely shook hands, and I regarded Mr. Dickinson shrewdly, all the while masking my real intensions. The aging judge smiled at me, and proceeded to express his delight that someone new and "exiting", as he so nicely put it, had finally moved into the beach house.
"That thing has been standing empty for years, I am really looking forward to getting to know you better Mr. Granger".
This time I smirked.
"The pleasure is all mine Mr. D".
He smiled once more before excusing himself, subtly touching Max´s arm as he left. Interesting. Max didn´t seemed particularly bothered, apart from the slightest twitch of one eyebrow. He was fidgeting, and suddenly he seemed out of place, even though he was wearing a tailored suit and had been born into this crowd. A small, almost non-existent part of me felt sorry for him, but it lasted only a moment.
He was Judy Tate´s son, and whatever compassion this encounter had sparked was immediately out shadowed by this simple yet crucial fact. It was a shame really; had this been a different time and place we might even have become friends. Then again I had a goal, and although Max would play his part in me reaching said goal, there was no doubt in my mind that he was worth sacrificing.
"So, Tyson, what do you do?" He wondered, smiling pleasantly.
"I own a shipping company", I responded truthfully.
It was part of my inheritance of course, but either way it served as the perfect backstory for my new identity. Perhaps Vladimir Hiwatari had always suspected that his father would one day betray him, I don´t know. For whatever reason he had decided to keep the existence of several prospering businesses from him, for which I now was very thankful. It made things a whole lot easier. We lapsed into a conversation regarding his school and plans for the future, which he didn´t seem overly enthusiastic about. Predictably enough Hillary tired of it and stalked off to fetch herself another drink, while I put on a mask of understanding assertiveness.
"You know, I am not really sure if this is what I wanna do", he said after a while, shaking his head almost remorsefully.
"Really, any particular reason?" I innocently wondered, raising both eyebrows questioningly.
He shrugged, both hands in the pockets of his pressed trousers.
"I don´t know, I must sound crazy to you I suppose, but I have always wanted to become a chef. You see, I am not really a book person, and I don´t think I have a talent for business either….", he trailed off, briefly closing his eyes.
I could almost feel his inner turmoil over the decision, and furthermore that he had confessed this to me, a complete stranger. Then again I can be very charming, especially if there is plenty to gain. Max seemed like a good kid, a bit naïve, but all in all there was not a bad bone in his body. He reminded me a bit about the real Tyson actually, although such a comparison is hardly a compliment.
"I think you should pursue your dream", I slowly said, eying him with what I hoped appeared as sincerity.
"If you want to succeed in something you should choose what is your passion. After all you will most likely be stuck with it for sometime".
I smiled carefully at him, and he nodded, clearly considering my words and taking them to heart. Good, very good. Just wait and see Dr. Tate, there won´t be anymore Harvard for your son. There goes your perfect little facade.
"That is actually pretty good advice", Max said, nodding again.
I excused myself moments later, noting that he disappeared in the same direction Mr. Dickinson had gone. Interesting; I reminded myself to have Kenny go through the security footage later. Something was going on between the two of them, and I needed more ammunition. Naturally I had suspected for quite sometime that Mr. D had an unhealthy relationship to sex, but so far I had been unable to come up with any hard evidence. This seemed like a possible opportunity, and a grand one at that. If Max was somehow involved I could take two people down with one strike. All I needed was a confession, or even better, a sex tape. It would be scandalous, which was exactly what I needed, and furthermore; what they deserved.
I was just about to go and search for Hillary when something caught my eye, and I abruptly turned around. A scruffy looking 20 year old had just entered, and I recognized him immediately. It was the real Tyson Granger, and I felt my blood run cold. Fuck him! What was he doing here? And why the hell hadn´t Kenny stopped him from entering. He looked curiously around, absently brushing a hand through greasy, unkept locks.
I resisted a sudden urge to march over there and punch in his face, as he once again looked around. He had undoubtedly snuck in undetected; there was no way anyone would have let him in otherwise, and I quickly scanned the room. No one seemed to have registered his presence apart from me, much due to the fact that he stood in the shadow of the staircase leading to the second floor.
I strolled over without giving him another look, feeling his gaze on me as I passed him on my way to the staircase. Predictably enough he followed, and I stopped in the camera blind spot, regarding him coolly. Bad idea Tyson, really bad idea!
"What are you doing here?" I asked him icily.
"I…I…I´m..I wanted to see you", he stuttered, looking around uneasily.
I could tell that my tone had hurt him, and intent on containing the situation my gaze softened fractionally.
"It is good to see you Tyson, but this is not the best time", I said tolerantly.
He really didn´t look to good, and he was reeking. Perhaps he had spent the night in a dumpster or something. I couldn´t tell, but I had hoped that half a million dollars would be sufficient to keep him occupied for a while. Apparently I had been wrong in that assumption. He was wearing dirty jeans and an ill-fitting sweater, and he looked hollow eyed and scruffy.
"I….you know I thought that maybe you could help, things have been….difficult", he trailed off, looking at me.
"We´ll work something out", I assured him, once again looking around for potential witnesses.
I had to get him out of here without being seen, and with Voltaire Hiwatari´s obsession with security cameras this would prove difficult.
"How did you get in?" I asked him, more out of curiosity than anything else.
This time he smiled, obviously proud of himself. The notion irked me, but I ignored it for the time being. Perhaps I could punch him later.
"One of the windows were open", he said, grinning.
Well, at least then they might think he was a burglar or something. Either way I couldn´t be associated with him without blowing my cover, not so long as he looked like he had just climbed out of a garbage disposal unit. I did the only thing I could think of; I called Kenny.
"Cut the electricity", I said shortly, voice clipped.
There was a brief silence and then;
"But….why….?"
"Cut the electricity, Tyson will meet you outside by the gate. Bring him to the beach house…..", I paused momentarily.
"And stay there until I return, the both of you".
"Yes, sir", he chirped.
We waited in silence. Tyson was shuffling his feet around, and I sent him a venomous glare. He stopped. It took Kenny precisely 2 minutes to orchestrate a power malfunction, and the moment the lights went out I grabbed Tyson by the arm, dragging him outside. The ladies were shouting in surprise, and security was suddenly everywhere, assuring people that it was just a minor electricity problem, nothing to worry about.
We marched through a series of rooms, staying in the shadows along the wall, and I didn´t let go of him before we reached the gardens, were Kenny was waiting. One look at my clenched jaw and blazing eyes told him to stay the fuck out of my way, and the two of them ran off within seconds.
I was left staring into space for a while, eyes absently wandering over the dark, foaming ocean that stretched out beneath the Hiwatari manor. It looked dark and ominous, like a one way mirror. I could see the beach house further down the slope. Kenny and Tyson should be there in about ten minutes. Even in the dark it wasn´t a particularly long walk.
"Mr. Granger, what a surprise".
The voice caught me off guard, and I turned around, expertly masking my real feelings. Voltaire Hiwatari was standing a few feet away, cool, mahogany eyes studying me with mild interest.
"Mr. Hiwatari, congratulations on a very successful event", I politely responded.
Inside the lights were on again, and people were once again chatting and walking about. We shook hands, and I tensed momentarily when he didn´t let go, but instead turned my hand to look at the underside of my wrist. Waves of unease flowed through me at the touch, and it took most of my self control not to pull back. Our eyes locked, and although I was a master at masking my true self his look caused a surprising amount of ….well, fear. He trailed his thumb over the tattoo of two overlapping figure eights, looking thoughtful.
"Double infinity", he slowly said, eyes curios.
He let go of my hand, and I took a step back, jaw clenched, before I smiled wickedly at him.
"A journey with no end".
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In its purest form, an act of retribution provides symmetry, the rendering of payment for crimes against the innocent. The danger of retaliation lies in furthering the cycle of violence.
Still, it's a risk that must be met when the greater offense is to allow the guilty to go unpunished.
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