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Author Topic: What Needed to be Done  (Read 48146 times)

Offline A1

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What Needed to be Done
« Reply #40 on: March 24, 2007, 09:35:04 PM »
>.< No

Offline TydusArandor

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What Needed to be Done
« Reply #41 on: March 24, 2007, 10:14:02 PM »
I spent the last while reading all of your previous fics before reading this one. I think I've been completely converted into some AyaMiki shipper now @_@;;. Not that it's bad or anything, of course :heart: :heart:

Though I wish I started reading this one later so I don't have to deal with this suspense x_o. Mikiiii :ONfrustrated: She's okay, right!? RIGHT!? T_T! *dies with everyone else on the spot*

Offline Mikitty-saikou

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What Needed to be Done
« Reply #42 on: March 24, 2007, 10:24:25 PM »
OMG. NOOOOOOOOOOOO~~!! :ONfrustrated:

Please let this a strange dream again.  Please~~ :cry:

Offline ChiruChaCha

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What Needed to be Done
« Reply #43 on: March 24, 2007, 10:26:36 PM »
...and now is when Aya discovers all the morgue thing is part of the japanese version of Punk'd?

Offline Nana Oosaki

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What Needed to be Done
« Reply #44 on: March 24, 2007, 11:43:32 PM »
I'm not going to read this chapter until you post the next one.

Offline black velvet

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What Needed to be Done
« Reply #45 on: March 25, 2007, 12:34:59 AM »
OMG. NO. NO. NO.

I FREAKING KNEW IT. D<

Is it possible to still love you now, I wonder? :P (j/k)

Offline OTN1

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What Needed to be Done
« Reply #46 on: March 25, 2007, 01:02:05 AM »
I feel like I have to apologise twenty times over for the turn this story is taking.  Ten chapters of fluff would be nice, but I'll do that another day.

TydusArandor, congratulations on your "conversion."  Hahaha.  It makes me happy to hear that you've been able to come to enjoy this pairing just by reading some stories.

Nana Oosaki's comment has got to be the most defiant I've ever gotten (hahaha!), and Yuuyami, sorry to keep you sitting in one place all night.  I hope you have a storage of food and drink nearby because I might not be ready with this next chapter quite yet.  Hahaha.  Although it is a rainy day today, which means after I go out and walk around in it, I'll come back and write some more. :lol: The sky outside matches the mood of this story.

As always, thank you for reading, even when I break your hearts, even when I'm "despairing and hopeless."

Offline OTN1

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #47 on: April 01, 2007, 03:15:44 PM »
Wow.  ebc pulled a fast one on us.  Good work, man.
Reposting my stuff, plus the new chapter I just posted.  I seem to be breaking this forum.  Haha.
(I stupidly didn't save the edited versions of these chapters, so please excuse the horrendous amount of errors I know are there.  I did, however, change that have/hate mistake since I remembered it immediately.  Hahaha!)

Chapter 6

Morgue.

Body.

Identify.

"Matsuura-san."

"...your breakfast is on the table..."

"Matsuura-san?"

"Thanks for your concern."

"Matsuura-san?"

Be quiet.  I'm thinking.

"We're very sorry, but we need to confirm this..."

I drown out his voice with my thoughts.

No.  It's not Miki.  It's someone else.  Just relax.  Relax.  Breathe...

Someone takes me by the arm and I jerk away.

"I'm sorry..." one of the men says.

I look up.

"Not at all," are the first words I mutter.

I stand up.

They lead me through the corridors.  Somewhere along the way, a female officer joins us.  She walks beside me.

Cold metal doors.  Opening slowly.  Cold air on my face.

"This way, please."

I follow.  I'm a robot.

We stop.

"Matsuura-san, if you would."

I look down at a white sheet.  Under the white sheet is a body on a cot.

"I'm very sorry, but can you please take a look at-"

I reach out with a shaking hand before he can finish.  I grasp the white sheet.  Pull it back.

"I'm lucky you're here for me."

I stare.

Her eyes are closed.

She looks like she did yesterday morning.  Sleeping.  But with blotchy skin.  And pale.  So very very pale...

"Matsuura-san?"

His voice is like a mosquito.  Irritating.  In my ear.

"I'll come back at around seven o'clock..."

I want to wake up from this nightmare right now.

NOW.

... but I'm still here.

I reach my hand out.  I touch her face.  She's frozen.

No.  She's dead.

Suddenly an uncontrollable gasp of air rushes into my lungs.  I suck in the cold air of the morgue and hold it in me.  I cross my arms tightly across my stomach and stare at my worst nightmare.

I let the air go.  It flows out of me shakily.

"Matsuura-san..." says the woman softly. 

I look up at Sugiura.  He's looking at me with compassion.  My mouth opens to ask him what's going on.  Why is she here?  But my lips flap uselessly and I can't remember how to speak.  I see him look at another man and they exchange nods.  My reaction has probably confirmed what they suspect.

"This is the body of Fujimoto Miki, is it not?" asks one of the men.

I look at him blankly, my lips quivering.  I manage a slight nod.  I look back down.

Then tears.  They spill out of my eyes.  I grab the edge of the cot and hold on for dear life.  If I let go, I'll fall and smash my skull open on the cold floor.

"Oh, and your breakfast is on the table."

Cereal.  Orange.  Tea.

I look back up at Sugiura.

"W...?"

He comes to stand closer to me.

"We found her in a river.  She drowned.  We... we suspect foul play."

My grip on the cot tightens.

I don't understand.

Foul play?

That means someone did this to her?

I don't understand.  I don't understand.

"A...?"

"Matsuura-san, if you'll come this way, we can leave-"

"No."

My first complete word.

I look down.

Pale, pale face.

She made me breakfast yesterday morning.  She who now is lying in front of me, pale, cold... dead.

A wave of pain hits me and rushes through my body.  I feel sick.  I almost throw up.  I swallow down hard.

"Why?" I rasp out.

"We don't know why yet," Sugiura says gently.  "But we're doing our best to find out.  I promise you."

Don't promise me things.

I touch her cheek again.

"Why do you think it was foul play?"

"Heavy bruising.  Back and arms," one of the officers says in a cold, insensitive voice.  I'd slap him if he wasn't so far away.

Instead, I grab at the sheet and pull it down some more.

"Please-" Sugiura-san says, stepping up and reaching out to stop me, but I shrug his hand away and take one of her cold arms.  Sure enough, there are bruises on her upper arm.  I run my fingers along them lightly.

"Who did this?" I demand.

"We don't know."

"Who?!" I yell.

Why won't anybody answer my question?  How can they not know?

"We don't know yet.  That's why we called you.  We need to ask you some questions."

"No!" I sob. 

I start to cry in earnest.

I look down at the dead body of Miki.  There she lies, flat on her back, half of her covered by a white sheet, half of her naked and exposed to the cold.  No dignity left.  Just flesh, bones, blood, and muscle.  No Miki.  Just a shell.

How??

The pain tears me up.

The pain is soon replaced by anger. 

This is something that can never be forgiven.  Somebody has taken away the most important person in my life.  He or she will regret it.  I’ve decided.

Whoever did this to her... Whoever did this to her is going to die.

Some time during my crying fit, they lead me out of the refrigerated space.

I look back at her body as I step out the door.  They haven't covered her back up yet.  She's all alone.

"Take care of yourself today."

They will pay.


Offline OTN1

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #48 on: April 01, 2007, 03:16:16 PM »
Chapter 7

I don't understand what's going on.  They've given me a glass of water and sat me down in that office.  Sugiura sits in front of me.  The female police officer sits beside me.  The other men stand.  They hover like ghosts.  I feel like I'm being interrogated.

In my mind, all I see is Miki's face.  Her dead, cold face.  And in my heart, I feel nothing but pain and anger.  Pain and anger...

They've told me they're going to ask me lots of questions.  I don't care.  I'll answer whatever they ask.

"Can you first describe to us in detail how you knew Fujimoto-san?"

Speaking in full sentences is hard, but I try.

"I got to know her through work.  We were idols together."

I'm sure everyone in the room knows that already.

"We became friends and remained friends after we left the company we worked for."

Sugiura takes notes.  I wonder what he's writing exactly.

"And how often would you see her?"

I have to answer this truthfully.

"Just about every day."

He writes down some more.

"And how well did you two know each other?"

How can I describe that?

"Very."

Sugiura looks up at me from his pad of paper.

"Can you elaborate?"

I nod.

"We share just about everything.  Secrets, clothes...  I - we - we just know everything about each other."

It doesn't sound right.  There are no words to describe it.

"Knew.  W-we knew."

Past tense.

"Was Fujimoto-san disturbed in any way lately?  Was she being harassed?"

I think hard.

"Not that I know of," I mumble.  "She was stressed out at work, but she didn't tell me what it was about."

Sugiura looks up again, his eyebrow raised.

"And yet you two share everything with each other?"

I nod silently.

"But she didn't tell you what was bothering her at work?"

I shrug.

"She said she was going to tell me yester-"

I choke up and look down, blinking rapidly and clenching my fists to keep from screaming out a sob.

Sugiura waits a few moments before he continues.

"Are you aware of Fujimoto-san ever receiving any threats?"

I blink.

"No.  Never.  She would have told me."

Scribble scribble scribble on his paper.

"What about people that she knew that might have wanted to hurt her?"

I'm starting to think that this conversation is pointless.  There was nobody that wanted to hurt Miki.  She never did anything to piss anybody off.  She minded her own business and was a hard worker.  She argued with people, but not over things that would make them want to kill her. 

"No, nobody," I say firmly.

"So nobody with a grudge against her?"

"Maybe it was some crazy fan of hers," I mumble.

John Lennon had been killed that way, right?

"Were you aware of any unstable fans that were stalking her?"

"No, there were none!" I yell, fed up.

He takes the hint and backs off.

"Let's take a break.  Would you like something to drink?"

I shake my head and look down at my hands on my lap.

Miki's dead...

It's no time to drink.

"Would you like to get some fresh air?" the woman asks.

I shake my head blankly.

I sit in my chair.  Some of the men leave.  Some stay, looking awkward in the silence.  I stare ahead and try to grasp the enormity of what's going on.

Miki is dead.  Dead.  Somebody pushed her into a river and now she doesn't breathe anymore.  I saw her just a little over twenty-four hours ago.  She was alive.  Soft and warm.  I can remember every single detail.

Who could do this to her?  Had she bothered someone so much that he or she had decided to kill her?  Had she looked at a gang member the wrong way while coming home?  Had it been an accidental push?

"I want to ask questions," I say aloud.

The woman straightens up.

"What questions?"

"Who found her body?"

The woman exchanges glances with another officer.  They tell me to wait for Sugiura to come back.  He does so with a fresh mug of coffee.  One of the officers takes him aside and speaks to him quietly.  He looks over and me and comes back to sit in front of me.

"A jogger saw a body washed up on the side of the river at around five this morning."

What a frightening sight...

"How did you get her phone?  It still works."

"We found the phone about half a kilometre away.  It was on the riverbank.  There were signs of a struggle."

I absorb.  Sugiura studies me carefully, and perhaps after seeing I'm starving for any piece of information, he continues.

"Our estimates at the moment state that she died perhaps four hours before her body was found, placing time of death at around one in the morning.  The beginning of decomposition has no..."

I suddenly don't want to hear the details.  I start to feel dizzy.  Sugiura continues to go into detail about her blood, her skin, rigor mortis, how being under water delays decomposition... and I can't hold it in any longer.

I bolt out of my chair and out the door, looking for a washroom.  I spot the sign for one and I run to it, my heart racing, my stomach churning.  My throat is constricted as I try to hold everything down.  I can hear people running after me and calling out, but it sounds very distant.  My ears are stuffed with iron that weighs me down and converts their words into a muffled, foreign language.

I get to the washroom and burst into a stall.  I fall to my knees and proceed to throw up the entire contents of my stomach.  I clutch the toilet seat with weak, sweaty hands as I gag and cry.  The pain is unimaginable and my chest feels like it's going to explode.  I can barely take a breath.  Every time I do, I feel sick, and my stomach tries to dispense something that is no longer there.  Long after yesterday's lunch and breakfast are dispelled from my body, I remain kneeling there, dry heaving and wishing I was unconscious or dead.

It takes some time for my stomach to calm down.  I flush the unsightly mess and sit on the floor, crying.  I feel worse than I've ever felt before.  My entire life has been a breeze compared to this moment.

I just want her to be alive.  We don't even have to be friends.  We can hate each other.  But I want her to be living and breathing.

Why has this happened?  First I get thrown into a strange world where Miki doesn't exist.  Then I find her when she's on the verge of being proposed to by her stupid boyfriend of two years.  Then I spend an unexpected and pleasant night with her before getting thrown back to where I belong.  Then I have less than two weeks to become re-acquainted with this Miki that doesn't even know I've been gone.  And then... she ceases to exist.  She's killed by someone, but I don't know who.

I've seen her dead before my own eyes.

Another wave of nausea passes through my body.  I hunch over the toilet, but nothing happens.  I sit back down and sob.

That's when I notice that the woman who's been sitting in the interview room is now in the washroom with me and helping me stand up.  She turns on the water and hands me a towel and an unwrapped toothbrush and toothpaste set.  She asks if I'm all right.

Of course I'm not.

But I don't say that.  I thank her and clean my face and brush my teeth as she cleans up the mess I've made in the stall.  I feel weak.  My arms and legs shake as I go through the motions of cleaning up.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this and see all that," she says, putting a hand on my shoulder.  I want to tell her to take it off.  "But if it's any consolation, your answers to our questions can really eventually help us find out who did this."

I sniff and wipe my eyes carefully.

"I want to find who did this now," I say darkly.

Once I've composed myself, the woman helps me back to the room where I answer the rest of Sugiura's questions.  Some of them don't seem relevant, but I answer them anyway in as much detail as possible.  His final question strikes a chord deep inside me.

"If you had to guess and tell us one thing about Miki's recent behaviour that seemed off, what would it be?"

I know without a doubt what it is.

"Her attitude towards work.  Lots of meetings - more than usual - and I got a feeling something bad was going to happen.  I didn't suspect this, though."

Sugiura thanks me for my time and tells me he'll keep in touch.  He asks about Miki's family.  I tell him I'll contact them and that they'll make the funeral arrangements.  We part on those terms.

I feel so old.

One of the officers drives me back home.  We are silent the whole way, me sitting in the back and him glancing in the rear view mirror ever so often to check up on me. Once we get to my building, I get out with a "thanks" and go up to my place.

The minute I'm home, I collapse on the floor and start to cry.  I've left Miki all alone in a cold room with only a thin sheet of cloth to cover her.  And her skin is ruined, and she can't breath, and her blood doesn't flow, and her body is breaking down and...

I don't know how long I cry for.  Two years?  Two minutes?

The tears start to wane as I feel the beginnings of an emotion that is almost foreign to me because I rarely feel it: rage.  It's bottled up inside me and now it's spilling out.

Who did this?

I think hard.

Her work.  Someone at work.  It has to be.

But why?  Was she going to get a tour or an album that somebody else wanted?  Was somebody jealous of her accomplishments?  What was the motive?

But why didn't she answer her messages all day?  If she wasn't killed until one in the morning, she would have been alive when I mailed her.  What made her lose contact?

It doesn't add up, and I grit my teeth in frustration.

But then I kick myself in the head.  Did she even show up at work yesterday?  Maybe something happened before she got there.

With a quivering hand, I call up the main office.

"U-Con records, main office.  How can I help you?"

"H-hi, Tsuyoshi-kun?" I ask in a trembling voice.

Tsuyoshi is the youngest employee at U-Con records at age nineteen.  He answers phones and makes coffee while keeping in mind his future dream to be a music producer.  We've met in person a few times in the past year when I've gone to see Miki, but our relationship is mostly a phone one.  I've called Miki many a time at work and chatted with this young, sweet boy when she hasn't been available.  Miki always teases... would always tease me about Tsuyoshi having a huge crush on me, and that since I loved to hear my own voice and he loved to keep me talking, it was the perfect relationship.  All I ever had to say to that was that he was a surprisingly mature boy and that if she wasn't careful, my inner cougar would emerge before I turned thirty and I'd dump her like a pail of water for him.  Of course I never really meant it.

"Oh, Matsuura-san!" he says cheerfully.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask, skipping our usual small talk.

"Uh, sure."

"Did Miki show up at work yesterday?"

"Yup.  Same as usual."

I begin to feel like I'm facing a life-sized jigsaw puzzle that has no solution.  The pieces don't match.

"What time did she leave?"

"Hmm.  Just before seven.  Around six forty-five, I'd say.  I left a bit after her at seven."

Just before seven.  That means she would have been at my place by seven thirty, eight if she dawdled and went to a bookstore or something.  It doesn't make sense.

"Thanks, Tsuyoshi-kun."

"But it's odd.  She hasn't shown up for work today yet."

I swallow down the sob that threatens to escape.

"Actually, there's a reason for that.  She won't be going to work anymore."

His silence is a confused one.  I explain in a few words what has happened.

"I..."

He's stunned into forgetting how to speak.

"Oh..."

I hear him swallow over the phone.

"I'll let the, um, boss know..."

"If you need to talk to me, call me on my cell phone anytime."

The offer is private, not business.  I'm speaking to him, not U-Con, and he knows that.  I feel bad because I've essentially just pointed a finger at this company he answers phones for.  I'm sure the police will be crawling all over the walls soon, and Tsuyoshi might get confused.  He's so young...

I know he hasn't done anything wrong.  He adores Miki and respects her even more than most people who are close to her.  To him, she is - was - his older sister.  I'm the older sister's hot friend who he's nuts over.

We somehow end the conversation.  He mumbles goodbye.  I hang up and stare at my phone.  I know that I have to call Miki's family, but I can't bring myself to do it.

I dial a number.  It goes directly to an answering machine.

"Hi!  This is Shibata.  I'm away for the week.  Send me an e-mail."

I curse.  I've forgotten that she's in Spain.

Why is she there?  When I need her the most, she's gone.

I take my cell phone out and write her an e-mail.  I'm not sure what to say to her.

Shiba-chan.  Miki's dead.  I don't know what to do.  Please call.  Anytime.

I press 'send' and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

My phone call to Hokkaido is painful.  I speak to Miki's mother.  She's in denial for the first minute and refuses to believe that it's actually me on the phone.  However, I start to cry and it hits her that her cherished daughter is gone.  I give her all the information I know and tell her that I'll keep in contact.  She wants Miki's body sent to Hokkaido, and I tell her I'll inquire about that at the police station.  There's no question I'm invited to Hokkaido for the funeral.  Miki's mom knows I love Miki like my own sister (although nothing more than that).  I'm treated like family.

After the phone call, I lie down on the floor and let my mind wander for a few hours.

I ponder the same questions over and over.

Why?

Who?

And I think about the things Miki and I will never do together again.  We'll never go to the zoo together, so shopping together, listen to music together.  Never ever again.  I'll never scold her again, she'll never pester me again, we'll never laugh it off again...

I wallow in my pain and sorrow until my phone rings.


« Last Edit: April 21, 2007, 03:27:00 AM by OTN1 »

Offline OTN1

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #49 on: April 01, 2007, 03:17:13 PM »
Chapter 8

I jump up from the floor and run to my phone.

Shiba-chan!

"Hello?" I ask, on the point of tears.

"Hello, this is Sugiura.  Could you come down to the office?  We have some more things we need to discuss."

My heart drops, but I remind myself that he might have some news.  I say it's okay, and he sends a patrol car to pick me up.  It comes within seven minutes, and I sit in the back feeling alone and cold.

Just like Miki's body.

I can't shake the sense of dread I get when I walk into the police department building again.  This time when I meet with Sugiura, he looks much more stern.  I wonder what he has to say.  He's got another man in the office with him.

I sit down.

"We're moved our investigation to Fujimoto-san's apartment," he informs me.

My stomach lurches, but I hold myself down.  It was bound to happen, yet I still feel like protecting Miki's privacy.  It's an invasion that feels disrespectful.  That's her apartment, and only she can give people permission to enter.

I notice that Sugiura is eyeing me strangely.

"Oh.  And?" I ask.

"Your fingerprints.  They're all over."

I frown and go on alert.  I don't know where this is heading.

"How did you get my fingerprints?" I demand.

Sugiura and the other man exchange nervous, guilty looks.

"Listen," Sugiura says, facing me again.  "We take all precautions.  We're very thorough in our investigation."

What a bastard.  Such an evasive answer.  I hate him.  I bet when that woman cleaned up the washroom this morning, she didn't just clean up.  She must have lifted my prints.  Bastards.  All of them.

"I did not kill her," I say in a hard, dangerous voice.  I'm offended by the mere suggestion.

"We don't think you did," Sugiura says in a calm, reassuring voice.  "We just want to know why your prints are on everything in her apartment."

"Because I go over there a lot," I say tersely.

Sugiura frowns.

"And you touch everything?  Your prints are on all her furniture, her books, her bowls, her stove... everything.  We checked thoroughly."

Oh yeah?  Did you check her body?  'Cause my fingerprints are all over that, too.

"I said I go over there a lot," I repeat firmly.

Sugiura seems to want to continue, but his partner stops him with a look.  Sugiura conceded.  He moves on.

"Are you aware of Miki keeping any sort of record or journal?"

All other thoughts in my head cease.  Journal.  Of course!

"No.  If there isn't one in her apartment, then I guess there isn't one at all." I find myself saying. 

Lying.

I know the real answer to the question.

I also know what I'm doing now is impeding an investigation.  Withholding information.  But I can't let them read the journal that I'm fairly sure Miki usually keeps at home.  If they haven't found it, it's probably at her workplace.  It's the only other place.

They ask me a few more questions and then let me go.  Sugiura's partner offers me a ride home, but I decline.

As soon as I'm out of their company, I ring up Tsuyoshi.

"U-Con Re-"

"Tsuyoshi!" I say quickly.  He starts to ask in a shaky voice how I am, but I cut him off.  "Have the police been by yet?"

"N-no, not yet."

He sounds shaken and confused.

"Good.  I need you to do me a favour."

"Anything," he says obediently.

"Can you go into Miki's office room without anyone seeing you?"

There's a pause.

"Yeah.  I'm going in now."

I hear him walk, open a door, and then close it.

"All right.  Now look in the top drawer of her desk for a key.  It should be in a little red box from a tea company."

I hear him rummage around.

"Got it."

"Now open the bottom drawer with that key."

I hear him comply.

"What am I looking for?" he asks.

"A book.  It should have little puppy dogs on the front."

He goes through whatever is locked away in that drawer.

"Found it."

"Good. Now please take it with you.  Don't let anyone see it or you.  I'll be by soon to pick it up.  If the police come, do not tell them you went into the office this afternoon.  If they ask if I called, you can say yes, but tell them we just talked about Miki."

"I got it."

He sounds even more confused.  I wish I didn't have to scare him like this.

But there's no way I'm letting those dirty investigators get their hands on Miki's most intimate thoughts.

And I've realized that if I have the journal, I can search for hints myself.  Find out who did this for myself...

"I have to go now," I say quickly.  "See you later."

I hang up and head for the train station.

I understand fully what I have just done.  My relationship with the investigators just got tricky.

That's okay, though.  I don't care.  I don't feel like playing by their rules.  They're not getting anything done.  It's quite obvious they're not doing a good job if they're coming to me and accusing me of having something to do with this murder.

My rage surfaces it again and this time I channel it towards all those know-it-all detectives.

They don't know a thing.

Offline OTN1

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #50 on: April 01, 2007, 03:17:42 PM »
 Chapter 9

I go immediately to U-Con Records.  Tsuyoshi is sitting at the front desk looking spaced out.  He's all alone.  Nobody else is in the reception foyer.

He sees me and stands up.

"Hey," he says, holding up something.  "I've got it."

He hands me a UNIQLO bag.  Nice touch.

"Thank you," I say with the deepest gratitude I can muster.  "This will really help."

"Matsuura-san?" he asks as I turn around to leave.

"Yes?"

"How can you do that?  Manage to keep going?"

He looks like a lost boy who has no family, no answers, no clues.  If only he knew I felt even worse than that.

I smile at him sadly.

"Tsuyoshi-kun, I'm barely here."

With that, I leave.

I catch the train home in a daze.

It's almost five thirty by the time I get home.  I sit down and have a glass of water.  Halfway through it, the phone rings.  I almost don't answer it because I don't want to talk to Sugiura anymore.  I cave in because it might be important.

"Hello?"

"Aya-chan.  What happened??" are the first words out of Shibata's mouth.

I break down and explain as much as I can.  How Miki wasn't in touch all day, how she didn't come over after work, how I went to the morgue, and how Sugiura harassed me with suspicious questions.

A shocked silence follows my explanation.  Someone calls out something in Spanish in the background, but Shibata ignores the noise.  I sit there for about thirty seconds before Shibata takes a breath to speak.

"I don't... I can't even think," she states.

"Shiba-chan..." I mumble sadly. 

The one who's supposed to be a steady rock, a voice of reason, and never phased, has become speechless.  It makes the crime that much worse.  It doesn't even make sense to the most sensible of people.

"I, um..." she trails off distractedly as the voice in the background calls again.  She covers the mouthpiece and calls out in response to the voice.  She comes back on the line.  "I'll come back as soon as possible."

The polite side of me that doesn't like to impose on people wants to yell out "no, that's not necessary," but my grief and anger overwhelm me and keep my mouth shut.  Shiba-chan is the best friend I have on this Earth right now, and I need her like I've never needed anyone else in my life.

"I'll e-mail you a number.  Call me if you need anything in the next few hours.  I'll get in touch with you once I manage to get a flight."

"Okay."

"I'm staying with a family named Romero.  They speak a little English.  Just ask for me."

I nod again and mumble another reply.

"Aya-chan, just... just hang in there.  Don't do anything stupid.  I'm coming soon."

We hang up.

Don't do anything stupid?  I look down at the bag sitting beside me.  I've already done something she'd probably consider stupid.

I open the bag and carefully take out the journal, running my finger along the edges, tracing all four sides.  I wonder what Miki would think if she saw me now, holding her thoughts in my hands and preparing to read them.  Would she be embarrassed?  Try and stop me?  Urge me on to read?

I stand up and go into my bedroom, sliding the door shut and sitting on my bed.  I look to my left and see Mr. Monkey lying on his side by the wall.  I pick him up and squeeze him tightly.  I put him in my lap.

I take a deep breath and I flip the cover open.  The first page is blank.  I turn it over, handling the pages gingerly as if they're pieces of a holy manuscript.

The entries start in February of this year.  She's not one for many words.  She doesn't lie to herself or beat around the bush.  Not anymore.  She's grown up a lot since I first got to know her.

With an uttered apology, I begin reading the small, compact handwriting.

Offline OTN1

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #51 on: April 01, 2007, 03:18:15 PM »
Chapter 10

February 6th
I got a new book to write in.  My other one ran out of space.  Sometimes I hate keeping this thing.  It's so embarrassing to read back over.  But sometimes I get so bored on my own.  Also, I can't possibly say every single thing that's on my mind to the people that matter.  Maybe when I'm done with this - or better yet, at the end of the year - I'll give it to Aya to read.  I don't think I'd mind at all.  She knows everything about me anyway.  These are just things I forget to say or that are too embarrassing but that I know she knows.

February 26th
Happy birthday to me!
Of course Aya forgot.  I know she does it on purpose.  I'm gonna get back at her good one day and teach her a lesson.  She'll regret she ever neglected me on my birthday.
I'm at work now and it's a slow day.  I've been sitting here trying to think of ideas.  We're having a meeting next week and I want to ask some questions about procedure and stuff like that.  I'm relatively new here, so I'm not quite sure how everything works.
It's weird to have a desk in an office.  I'm a performer, not a salaryman.  When I got to work this morning (after Aya all but ignored me when we woke up), some of my new coworkers sang happy birthday to me.  After work, we're going for drinks.  Ever since Katherine has been "on loan" to us from her company, we've all been partying a lot more.  Maybe it's an American thing.  And here I was thinking Japanese were big drinkers.  At least she speaks Japanese fluently.  God forbid I have to use my horrible English on her.
I hope Aya calls 20 times to find out why I'm late tonight.  Hah!  Aww, but maybe I'll send her an e-mail before it gets too late.  Don't wanna worry her.  Maybe at 8:30.

February 27th
Bad hangover.  I've felt nauseous all day, but I can't go home yet.  I'm waiting for Fujinuma to get out of a meeting so that I can talk to her about my new single.  Killing time now.
Last night we went out and drank too much.  I don't know how late I got home, but I remember Aya was there.  She was pissed off at first because I ended up not calling and she was expecting to hang out with me.  I ranted about how she forgot it was my birthday, and if she wanted to forget, that was fine by me, but that she shouldn't expect me to not make other plans.  She actually said sorry to me.  Ha!  I won that round.  But she wouldn't let me drink anything else even though I wanted to with her.  I fell asleep on the floor.  I only know that because this morning, she complained about having to drag me onto my bed.  I guess that was her birthday present to me.  Hah. 
But... I'm not actually mad at her, and I know she's not mad at me.  Just the same game we play.  Our power struggle.

March 15th
I can't stand it when Hashimoto gets on my case.  I know I go flat when I do lives.  He doesn't have to be such an asshole about it.

March 16th
Hashimoto can piss me off as much as he wants.  Aya's really good at cheering me up.  It's like living with bliss and ecstacy right beside you, every touch like heaven, every word like music.

March 17th
We've had a spell of really cold weather.  Aya's gone south for a tour for a couple of weeks so I'm all on my own.
I find I get stupidly poetic in the winter.  Things are dark and it feels like I can let loose under that cover of darkness and be a bit more sentimental.

March 30th
I'm worried about getting old.  Fujinuma asked me to do something three times, but I kept forgetting.  What'll happen when I start to find grey hairs?  Or get wrinkles?  I don't want to be unable to do things I do today.  If I want to climb a mountain, I want to be able to.  If I want to recall every single details of the past, I want to be able to.  If I want to stay up all night, I want to be able to.  None of this wishy washy "maybe I can, maybe I can't" crap.

April 3rd
My bathroom sink pipe exploded on me.  It was disgusting.  So much gunk flowed out of it, and it stank.  I had to get an emergency repair man to come and fix it, but it took him three hours to get here.  They were busy with other emergencies.  I sat on the balcony and drank coffee to get away from the smell indoors.  Cherry blosom viewing from my own apartment.  Haha, very pathetic.
By the time the guy came to fix the sink, I was wired, and I think he noticed.  He joked around with me for a bit, and I loved it.  I've been feeling so out of touch lately.  I haven't spoken with many people lately, and since Aya's been on that tour, I haven't really made the effort.  Hah, I can blame my loneliness on her.
Anyway, when the guy left, he gave me his card, but I looked at it later and saw that he'd written his own number on it.  I wonder if I should call him up just to make Aya jealous.  I still have to get my revenge for my birthday.  I'd go out for coffee with him while she's in Kyushu, and then I'd make sure she found out.

Of course I'd never do that!  Ha!  I could never.  I wouldn't want to.  There's a line that I won't cross.  We like to joke and tease each other, but not in a spiteful way.  We actually do like each other and get along.  Hah.  We don't hold back around each other, but we treat each other with respect.  Sometimes, though, I wonder if

April 9th
I forgot what I was going to write last time.  I was interrupted by the phone.  It's bothering me.  Ug.  I "sometimes wonder" about a lot of things.
Tomorrow I have to film my Music Fighter appearance.  I'm still preparing for it.  They always make me laugh so much that my cheeks hurt because they can't relax.

April 19th
Maybe this was what I meant to write about on April 3rd.
I'm pretty brave, pretty confident, pretty blunt.  I don't really care what unimportant people think of me.  But with people I respect, I care deeply.  Aya's one of those people.  I endear myself to her and get close to her because I like her so much.
I think many people have a best friend who is different from their favourite friend.  A favourite friend is someone they like to do stuff with and have the most fun with.  A best friend is someone who might not be a partier, but he/she has some big effect on the person's life.  He/she helps that person and that person can be perfectly honest with him/her.
For me, I'm lucky because Aya's both my best friend and my favourite friend.  She's my idol, the person I respect most, the person I worry about most, the person I love most.  But what am I to her?  I know we don't really talk about that out loud because sometimes you can't define it in words, but still... Sometimes I wonder if she likes me as much as I like her.

May 2
Do I treat people badly?  I had a confrontation with Noriko today and she told me I'm not so nice all the time.  I think she misunderstands me.  I'm not rude, but I don't baby people when they need to hear the truth.  I don't soften the blow.  I tell them what they need to know, not what they want to hear.  Not many people understand that.  I don't want to make enemies because of it.  I wish people were more understanding.

May 17th
I've got Fujinuma backing me up at work.  Some seniors got upset because I just swept in here and got myself a bunch of golden opportunities.  Lots of promo work, lots of lives, two singles, and rumours of an album.  Fujinuma told them off.  Love that woman.
Katherine went back to her country a couple of days ago.  I kind of miss having her around, but I'm glad we won't be partying so much anymore.  I swear I've gained three kilos from beer alone since she's been here.

May 31st
I got the green light for an album.  Celebration time!

June 4th
I hate Kuniko with a passion.  She and Ohashi can go to hell.

June 10th
Best day ever!!

June 15th
Did I mention before that I love Aya to death?  When she says things like she did yesterday, I can't believe that I'm alive and on this world.  She came over to my place after work and waxed rhapsodic on how wonderful I am and what an inspiration I am to her.  I wasn't upset and I wasn't searching for comfort or ego-boosting, but I got it anyway.  I wonder why she does things like that.  It makes me feel impossible good.
Yesterday she carried on for a good ten minutes before pausing.  I don't usually feel real embarrassment around her, but yesterday I couldn't talk because I was so embarrassed, not to mention touched.  Later on when we went to sleep, I wanted to thank her some way, but I couldn't even begin to.  I just lay there, and by the time I did think of something good to say, she was already asleep.  I hope she knows how grateful I am for everything she's done for me.  I think she knows.  She knows that sometimes I don't say everything I want to say.  So... when I don't say things, I hope she can feel the words coming from me.  Maybe radiating off my skin.

June 23rd
I'm so worn out.  It's been a crazy busy week.  I want to stop and breathe, but there's no time.  Gotta do my best till the end.

July 5th
Ug.  So hot.  Can't breathe.

July 6th
Katherine called our office.  We all talked with her.  She's crazy.  But I kind of love that.

July 13th
Save me!  Hottest summer in 76 years.  How?!  Why?!

July 20th
Fuck you, Aya.  No, really.  Stop bitching about everything that I do.  I'm allowed to have a life.
God, she is so annoying when she acts all morally superior or whatever.  I know how to take care of myself.  I can handle the work.  I'm not a twig that's going to snap easily.  I can take a few bumps.  She doesn't have to lead me and take care of me all the time.
Fuck you.  Take me seriously for once.

July 22nd
I feel really bad for writing what I did.  We talked.  She was just worried for me 'cause she cares.  I know that, but I guess I've been a bit tense with all this work lately.  She told me she takes me seriously and I believe her.  I take back those nasty words.
Waiting for her to come over now.  All I want is a hug and that'll be enough.

August 28th
Had another dumb fight with Aya again.  I think the heat makes us cranky.  That and all the work.  It's all good now.  I don't like having ill feelings between us, but in a way it's good.  We let all that steam out.  And of course the after part.  Haha, we should argue more often.  Kinda turns me on.

September 3rd
Terrace Café, 5:15.... ?

September 4th
It looks like I've got something potentially good.  That was an interesting meeting.  Now that I've got this album...

September 30th
I've been so busy at work, plus all these extra meetings.  I deal with some strange people sometimes, but I guess I like them well enough.  I've been neglecting some things at home.  I've been neglecting some people.  It makes me feel bad.

October 17th
Fucking hell.  She's going to be gone for three months.  Stupid Italy.

October 24th
Aya leaves tomorrow evening.  My time is stretched between work, meetings, and her.  I want to spend all of it with her.  Three months... I think I might cry.  Actually, I am crying a little right now.  I don't want her to leave.  She's so cheery and happy, even when she's not.  To me, she's always shining in some way.  If somehow she can come home early, I'll be so thankful.  I try to be strong for her, but it's tough when you love someone so much that you're rendered weak and susceptible to all sorts of emotional bullets.  I'm watching her right now. She's fast asleep, but I couldn't fall asleep no matter how warm I was.  I had to write something.

October 27th
Ha!  I swear she was abducted by aliens.  All her crazy talk.  But I love her.  She's staying.  Oh, she's staying!!

October 28th
I'm so weirded out right now.  What have I gotten myself into?

October 31st
She's so perfect.  Why is this happening to me?  I've never been more terrified in my life.  They say if I tell anyone, they'll kill her.  I believe them.

November 6th
I can't move from my office.  They know I'm going to say something tonight.  They just know.  I can't call, can't talk to anyone, can't even write about it here.  I'm going to keep this book here tonight.  I don't want it with me.  I just want to be back home with her.  That way I can try to make sure nobody gets hurt.

I'm so scared.
« Last Edit: April 21, 2007, 03:45:04 AM by OTN1 »

Offline OTN1

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #52 on: April 01, 2007, 03:18:50 PM »
Chapter 11

What the...?

I put down the book, my hands trembling.  I'm filled with even more of the same sick feeling that's been inside me ever since the police called.

Somebody was harassing her.  Somebody threatened her.  But what was it about?

I go back and read the entire book once more.  It doesn't take too long.  I focus on the last three entries.  They sound very mysterious.  Is the "her" she's writing about me?  Did someone threaten to kill me?  What kind of secret did Miki have that made them threaten people close to her?  What did she do to aggravate someone to the point of doing that?

I flip back to the entry on June 4th. 

Kuniko.  Ohashi.

I wrack my brain trying to remember who they are.  As far as I can remember, though, they're just fellow co-workers on the same label as Miki.  If memory serves correctly, Kuniko is a b-grade singer (according to Miki), and Ohashi is some older guy who can dance but whose singing is nothing to write home about.  Could they have done something to her?

No, that would be too obvious.

What about Noriko?  I know Noriko from a party a few months ago, but she doesn't strike me as a dangerous person who would want to kill someone.

Nobody does.  Nobody at her work would do that.  She would have told me if there was anyone she thought was going to hurt her.

But then I look at the second last entry. 

They say if I tell anyone, they'll kill her.

Why would she believe these people?  She could have told me anything and nobody else would ever know.  How bad was this thing she knew?

Reading this journal has caused me more confusion than I thought it could.  It's answered none of my questions.

I briefly consider handing it over to the police, but I stop that thought.  There will be too much to explain.  I've already lied to them, and I've even involved Tsuyoshi.  I have to keep silent.  Anyway, the things Miki has written about are too personal.  I don't want anyone to know them.  I don't care that they involve me.  I just want to protect her last bits of dignity.  She wouldn't want her life to be an open book to just anyone.

So that leaves me with a big question mark floating over my head.  Who was harassing Miki, who killed her, and why?

I need to answer these questions, because once I do, I will find the people responsible and rip their throats out.

I drop the book from my hands and grab the covers on my bed, squeezing hard.  The rage resurfaces and I want to scream.  I hold it in and take a deep breath, counting to ten before I let go and exhale.  I open the book again and read slowly from the beginning.

I wish I'd gotten her a birthday present.  I had meant to "forget" her birthday this year because I was going to surprise her after work, but then she went and got drunk at some other party and ruined it.  I felt really bad, but I never told her that I had planned to do something for her.  I guess now she'll never know...

It breaks my heart to read her entry where she wonders if I like her as much as she likes me.  Of course I do.  She's also my favourite friend and my best friend.  I begin to cry because now I can't tell her that.  I think she knew, though.  She probably let go of that fear after writing it down.  She must have known because she never wrote about it again.  If it bothered her, she would have written about it.  Right?

After reading about how we argued (the memory of those arguments comes back, and now I miss them more than anything), I stop at the first entry for the month of September.

"Terrace Café, five-fifteen, September third," I read out loud.

The Terrace Café is our place.  We go there a lot because of the nice atmosphere, and nobody bothers us.  I wonder what kind of meeting she had there.

It's odd, though.  That café isn't exactly a place where one would think to have a meeting.  And why that particular one?  There are dozens of other places in Tokyo in which to have meetings.

She also seems to have been caught off guard by it.  Her question mark probably shows that she's not the one that called the meeting. 

So who did?

When I find you I'm gonna kill you, you bastard.  Rip your heart out and see how you like it.

My hands itch to call Shibata and tell her about these things I've discovered, but there's no point.  She's either on her way over here if she managed to get a flight for today, or she's getting ready to leave and shouldn't be disturbed.  I hope she calls me as soon as she lands.  I need to talk to someone I can trust completely.

I read the same few pages over and over again.  It seems impossible that almost a whole year's worth of unspoken thoughts are contained within these ten pages.  I guess she really does tell me everything.  Did.  She really did tell me everything.

(No.  Thinking in the past tense hurts too much.  I can't do it.)

Maybe she just doesn't like to write much.  She said so herself.  She's not the most eloquent writer, but then again, neither am I.  At least I can get into it and get all flowery and dramatic.  She's too shy, even with herself.

I flip through the blank pages mindlessly until I discover something.  There's some writing on a few of the pages near the back of the book.

The third last page has a poem written on it.  As I read it, I realise that it's the song that she was trying to write before she- no.  Just... the song that she was trying to write.  At the bottom of the page, she's scribbled some things.  There are some pictures that I can't quite make out.  Maybe animals or people.  And there's my name with a heart around it.

I read the song over and over again.  It's pretty terrible, but suddenly it means a whole lot more.  I can't stop the tears as I look at this ridiculous song and think of how she's never going to work on it again.  I'll never hear her sing it in the shower again.

I throw the book down and yell at the top of my lungs.  Nothing intelligible.  A mess of gibberish.  I scream out words of death and killing, and I bawl my fists up, pounding them down on my bed.  I fall forward and cry into the blankets, sobbing out that I want to kill whoever killed her.  That I won't rest until I've found him.  I tell her that I'm sorry for letting this happen to her.

I lose control for those five minutes, and then pull myself together.  I have to keep sane.  Whoever did this to her is still out there, and I'm sure I can't be safe if they are.

I turn to the next page and I grow even sadder.  It's an entry that she didn't write in the main part of the book for a silly reason.  I read it quietly in my head.

June 23rd
I can't keep this a secret anymore!!  But I have to write it back here just in case Aya reads my journal before the 25th.  You never know.  Sometimes I keep it at her place, but I don't tell her.  I mean, of course I trust her, but still.  Like I said, you never know.  Hahaha!  I don't think people usually flip to the back of a book when they read, so let's hope this works. 
Anyway, for her birthday, I got her this stupid book she's been going on about wanting to read.  Not just that, but I got it signed by the author.  Yesterday he had a two-hour autograph session at Kinokuniya.  Aya had to work and she complained ad nauseum about not being able to go.  I ignored her pretty much all day, and I managed to get time off to go to the session.  I got the book signed and addressed to her.  I can't wait to see her reaction.  She'll either worship me for thinking of her and taking time off, or kill me 'cause I got to meet her favourite author.  I hope it's the first one!


I remember that clearly.  I thought she was going to give me a taste of my own medicine and ignore me on my birthday, but no.  When I woke up to my screeching alarm and grudgingly got out of bed to go to work, she was already up and in the living room watching TV.  A rare thing for her.  She saw me and tossed me a bag that I barely caught.  I opened it and saw that book and smiled... and then when she told me to open it to the first title page, I almost died.  For a moment I did feel jealous that she'd gotten to meet him, but that quickly changed into gratitude, and I didn't think that I could ever say "thank you" enough times.

I start to feel myself losing control again, so I grab my cell phone and check my e-mail for that number Shibata has sent me.  She's included the directions for long distance calling.  I yank my phone off the hook and dial quickly.

It takes a while to connect.

The ringing starts.

After four rings, someone picks up.

"Dígame."

"Eh... Shiba.... eh... Ayumi?"

"No.  Ya se fue.  Hace como veinte minutos."

This requires a different approach.

"Ahh... Japanese?  English?  I look for Ayumi," I say into the phone in English.

"Ahh, sorry.  She has left.  She buy a ticket for, eh, a plane.  Ehh, twenty minutes since gone."

I just barely understand.

"So sorry.  Thank you.  Bye!" I say quickly, and I hang up as the other person says something along the lines of "it's okay, bye."

So she's managed to buy a plane ticket?  Or she's out buying one now?  Either way, I can't talk to her for a while.

My life is a waiting game right now.  I pick up the journal that I threw down in a rage and I re-read it.

This time around, something nags at the back of my mind.  After the Terrace Café entry in September, she speaks about her meetings as if they're separate from her work. 

I've been so busy at work, plus all these extra meetings.

My time is stretched between work, meetings, and her.

It might just be my imagination or my paranoia, but something is not right about that.  But there's no way for me to find out.  I should have asked Tsuyoshi to grab her agenda book while he was in her office. 

Tsuyoshi.  Of course.  Who else would know better than him?  He's the secretary.  He's sure to have handled scheduling, or at least seen the calendars fifty times per day.  He'd probably be able to answer my questions.

I know I have to have his cell phone number somewhere.  I'm fairly certain he gave it to me a few months ago, something which Miki teased me about a lot.  I look through my address book and find it.  There must be some lucky star on my side for the time being.

I dial up the number and wait patiently.

"Hello?" asks a tired voice.

"Hi, Tsuyoshi-kun," I say. 

It takes him almost no time to identify who I am.

"Oh, hi.  What can I do for you?" he asks with unimaginable hope in his voice.

"Do you have time now?  I just want to ask you a question or two."

"Sure.  Does this have to do with Fujimoto-san?"

His voice weakens at the mention of her name.  My stomach weakens, too.

"Yes," I say quietly.  His silence is my pass to continue.  "Did Miki have a lot of meetings?"

"Yes, but not more than any of our other employees.  She's- she was popular with the bosses, so she got lots of extra opportunities."

"What about outside of the company.  Did she have any extra meetings at any cafés or restaurants?"

"Um..." Tsuyoshi thinks hard.  "I can't recall ever seeing one on the schedule."

"What about-"

"Wait," he says, interrupting me.  "I've got my giant agenda book from work.  I bring it home sometimes.  I've got everybody's bookings written in there.  Let me get it."

"Thanks."

I wait while he runs over to wherever he keeps the book.

"Okay, I've got it here.  Do you have any particular date in mind?"

He's on the same wavelength as me.

"September 3rd.  Anything out of the office scheduled for around 5:15?"

He flips through pages and then stops.

"Nope.  Nothing for September 3rd.  Actually, she had no meetings here or outside."

Suspicious.

"And nothing on the next day either?"

"No.  Nothing."

So this meeting she had must have been... personal?  But it sounded like it was work-related.

"What about after that?  For the months of September and October.  Can you tell me what kinds of meetings she had?"

Tsuyoshi flips through the pages of his book, no doubt memorising when and where Miki had meetings.

"They're all meetings in the office.  Nothing outside.  No business lunches or anything like that."

I try not to yell out in frustration.  What were these meetings she was going to?!

I take a deep breath to calm myself.

"Tsuyoshi-kun, can you think hard about Miki during the months of September and October?  Was there anything that seemed off about her?  Did she do or say anything strange?  Maybe act out of character?"

I can hear him breathing as he thinks.  I've probably scared him more than I should.  I can feel him wanting to ask me questions, but he's being polite.

"Nothing strange, but she did leave early quite a bit in the past half month.  Well, not early.  She used to stay overtime till seven or eight, but lately she was leaving at four-thirty or five.  It sounded like she was just busy at home.  It happened maybe two or three times a week."

An icy hand grips my heart.  As far as I knew it, she was working at her U-Con office until late and then going home right after.  Now I'm hearing that sometimes she left early some days and essentially disappeared for a few hours.  I have never been a maniac about keeping track of her.  She has - had - her own life, and who was I to need a record of how she spent every single minute of her day?

But it just seems odd that she never talked about it with me.  Why wouldn't she mention these extra meetings?  Why did she make everything she did sound like it was part of her official work?  I have a very bad feeling.

"Did anybody strange call for her?  Or did one person call her frequently?  More than usual?" I ask, my voice shaking a bit.

"Um... no.  I mean, you call - called - her more than anyone.  Other than that, nobody seemed to call her too many times."

Oops.  Did I really call her that much?  No use dwelling on that now, though.

"I see..."

I run a shaky hand through my hair and try to think.

"Matsuura-san, was Fujimoto-san in any trouble?  I mean, you mentioned the police earlier..." Tsuyoshi asks timidly.

"Sorry.  I honestly don't know.  She might have been in trouble, but as a victim.  So the police didn't show up there today?"

"No."

I'm positive that they'll show up tomorrow.

"Tsuyoshi-kun, I know I'm asking a lot of you, but can you keep this quiet?  That we talked about Miki's schedule?  I think the police are looking in the wrong direction, and with me being nosey, they're going to think I have something to do with it.  I need you to trust me for a bit..."

I know that I really am asking a lot of him.  He can say no anytime to me, deny me information, and go straight to the police with what we've talked about.

But he's a very loyal boy.  I've learned that.  I have faith in him.

"Matsuura-san, I would rather be arrested and thrown into the slammer than let you down.  If somebody did hurt Fujimoto-san, I want him brought to justice."

I almost shed a tear at the love I hear in his voice.  Definitely not your typical nineteen-year-old boy.

"Thank you.  You can't imagine how much that means.  I have to go now, but keep in touch, okay?"

We say goodbye and hang up.

I look down at the journal entry for September third.

Terrace Café.

I have a feeling that whoever I'm looking for, he or she is connected to that meeting.  It has to be.  There's no other explanation.

I'm taking a gigantic leap here.  I don't know how to be a cop.  There's a reason why I never finished high school.

But to do what I'm going to do, I need somebody by my side.  I need some brains.  I need someone with common sense.  I need Shiba-chan.

Hopefully she'll be here soon.

I turn off the lights and lie down on my bed, the journal right beside me, Mr. Monkey above my head.

Sleep takes a long time to come, but when it does, I'm grateful, because for a few hours, I can escape from the gut-wrenching pain that I'm trying to cover up by playing detective.
« Last Edit: April 01, 2007, 04:05:30 PM by OTN1 »

Offline Estrea

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #53 on: April 01, 2007, 05:39:32 PM »
And the plot thickens! lol I just wanted to say that...

Action is the best way to ignore pain...if you dwell on it too much, it hurts more...sigh.

More please!

永遠に咲き続ける花なんていない、すべてはいずれ枯れて朽ち果てしまう。

Currently writing:
- Lilium-related things. God save my soul.

On Hold:
- Everything Else. Too many to list.

I'm also on AO3!
http://archiveofourown.org/users/Estrea

Offline JFC

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #54 on: April 01, 2007, 06:48:37 PM »
Man, I just posted my comment for Ch 10 a few hours ago too. Oh well, basically this part
Quote
I go back and read the entire book once more.  It doesn't take too long.  I focus on the last three entries.  They sound very mysterious.  Is the "her" she's writing about me?  Did someone threaten to kill me?  What kind of secret did Miki have that made them threaten people close to her?  What did she do to aggravate someone to the point of doing that?
sums up what I was thinking then.

So Miki's meetings were secret?  That can't be good. Someone must have been coercing her or something.

JPH!P :heart:'s kuro808, Fushigidane, ChrNo, Jab & marimari. Always.

Offline orangesocks

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #55 on: April 01, 2007, 09:04:28 PM »
Quote
'Chapter 10
"She told me she takes me seriously and I believe her.  I take back those nasty words.
Waitin for her to come over now.  All I want is a hug and that'll be enough."'
Wahhh, Miki!!!... :'( Was she mixed up with some gangs or something, I wonder...
So...the unknown villains were messing with Miki over Aya? I say...Tachibana Keita killed Miki because he was jealous!!!

...or not.

hum...

Offline magicnumber

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #56 on: April 01, 2007, 09:27:46 PM »
^ Nah. Keita is too much of a wuss to even think of laying a finger on... well, anyone XD

...OTN1 I loved Miki's journal entries.
I feel like I've been given clues but I still can't piece them together yet.
*sigh* must be patient! :(

Offline Amarghetta

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #57 on: April 02, 2007, 05:27:38 AM »
Terrace Café. Is that the one with the owner who asked Miki why she never picked the suggested dessert? XD Some observant person, said owner was...

I won't say more, this time. I'll just sit and wait for the action to unfold before my eyes. Sometimes it's better this way. ;)



Offline rndmnwierd

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #58 on: April 02, 2007, 05:54:59 AM »
I'm going to hold off on any guesses now, I'd probably be way off base anyway. For now, I'll just say that I'm interested in Detective Aya and await the clues that she'll dig up.

Offline OTN1

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Re: What Needed to be Done
« Reply #59 on: April 02, 2007, 08:05:57 AM »
Hahaha, your comments made me giddy.  Makes me wish I could write this thing more quickly.

One of you gets a cookie.

You know, I completely forgot about the existence of Tachibana.  Wonder what he's up to these days.  Well, not really.

Oh, don't hold back.  I had an interesting conversation with a friend today about Tsuyoshi's role in this story.  Conspiracy theories abound.  It's fun.

More to come later tonight.

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