Schizo in Shibuya

by Kessie-Louise

Joshua often is what he doesn't want to admit; alone. Emmeline is an automatic writer diagnosed with mild schizophrenia. Where Em sees a chance at revenge, Joshua just needs a new Game Master for the next Reaper's Game. They both have something that the other needs- even if they're not aware of it yet. [R&R]

2. Broken

"Mister Fredericks, I believe we agreed that this was going to be a private meeting..."

"I understand this Erasona-san, but my daughter Emmeline is disabled and can not be alone for long. I promise that she will remain as silent as possible during our meeting, but I can not risk having her out on the streets at this hour."

The Japanese business man looked at her in an act of disapproval and defeat. In turn, she looked back at him dully and with a hint of disrespect. The Japanese businessman unconsciously held himself higher and tightened his tie.

"She can sit at the foot of the table, we will do our operations at the other end." the businessman then said in a voice that peppered with anger.

"Thank you for understanding sir." her father said gratefully. The businessman gave an irritated grunt, but said nothing in front of her father's face. She knew he wanted to say, though, as those thoughts found themselves onto her paper but she remained silent and formed her opinions in her broken mind.

Why did I give it away?

Why did I want it back?

I'm trapped in my own mind...

Is it all because of him...?

She didn't appreciate how often she was drawing him now after they met for the first time. This was the fifth picture her hand drew of him within the last seven minutes. There was something about him that her hand couldn't get past- almost as if it had become a fetish that you worked hard to ignore but found you no longer could. There was something going on in the muscles that controlled her hand but didn't obey her brain; what was it trying to tell her?

Broken little minds,

Broken little pieces.

Put them all together,

For a larger picture.

Suddenly, an idea came to her. Carefully, and rather awkwardly, she started to force her hand to draw a new background on top of the new one. She forced her hand to draw a caricature of herself next to him. It was a lovely little depiction of herself- it was only because that was how she viewed herself and not how she really looked.

What the hell are you doing here?

Oh yes, he was mad now. Somewhere inside of her, she became tickled with glee. She expressed this by adding a rather wide and semi horrifying smile on her caricature.

I'm about to screw your fucking little mind up.