Saturday August 21, 2004 6:51am

Taichi Yagami had been the unofficial leader in our group for as long as anyone could remember. He had all the qualities of a leader: confidence – if sometimes to the point of being headstrong, daring, but he also genuinely cared for each one of us – especially his sister. He would no doubt be a great leader, had he lived to see that day.

His death was probably the most shocking. I never knew Taichi terribly well; he was three years older than me, and usually hung out with the older group anyway. But he was, at the very core, the leader. He was the unshakable leader who formed a pillar of continuity in each one of our lives. To see such a pillar broken really shook me to the core.

If I am shocked by this, Sora is no doubt devastated. She had known Taichi since they were five. They played together, wrestled with each other, fought over who would get the last cookie – if there was something two people could do together (within reasonable limits, of course), they did it. Taichi played a bigger part in Sora’s life than both her parents combined. I wish I could say something, but I feel so woefully inadequate beside her suffering.




Sora stood. “I’m ready.”

Ken looked up from his writing. “Are you sure, Sora? I mean, Taichi was…”

“I’m ready,” she repeated. Ken looked at the renewed fire in her eyes and shivered. She had become an angel of vengeance. Not that Ken could blame her; he had suffered such a desire not two hours ago. But unlike him, Sora looked sane. She looked as if she had a plan to take out the killer. Ken shuddered, hoping that he would never have a chance to cross her. This ordeal really messes with our emotions, Ken thought wryly. He then banished his thoughts and walked over to Sora, and the two walked towards their destiny once more.




“Strip,” the killer commanded. He silenced his captives’ protests with swift flicks of his whip, sending them to the ground moaning with pain. The hooded killer waited patiently as the two carefully removed their clothes, trying their best to hide their nakedness. Neither Daisuke nor Miyako could tell what the killer had in mind for them.

When they were done, their captor handed Miyako a long rope. “Wrap this around your friend so that he can’t move his arms.” Without a word, Miyako took the rope and went over to Daisuke.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, and began to restrain Daisuke further. Daisuke merely stood still as Miyako tied him up, wincing whenever the rope touched his wounds and causing Miyako to apologize profusely.

The killer then similarly restrained Miyako, wrapping the rope around her upper body like a straightjacket. He then threw two prepared nooses over a particularly thick tree branch. Afterwards, he set two step stools underneath the ropes.

Miyako and Daisuke looked at each other. They were in the last minutes of their tragically short lives. Daisuke managed a wry grin even as tears spilled down his face. Miyako tried to ignore her pounding heart and the tears soaking the ropes that held her still. “I-it’s be-e-en n-nice…knowing y-y-you,” Miyako stuttered.

“S-same here,” Daisuke replied. “I-“

“How touching,” interrupted their executioner. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to step onto those stools, we can get this underway.” He flicked his whip at them to emphasize his point. Daisuke looked at Miyako, trying to encourage her through his tears. They nodded and then moved forward, climbing the stairs to oblivion.




Ken and Sora rushed into the grove. Freedom – and vengeance lay in here. They could both see the eastern gate of the cemetery beyond the grove, but another sight caught their attention. Ken’s heart sputtered and died when he saw it.

Miyako and Daisuke, his two closest friends, and the last two missing, hung from trees. Their bodies swayed gently in the wind, their apparent tranquility a mockery of the murders. Each of them sported several wheals across their bodies, evidence that they had suffered much under their killer.

“COME OUT, COWARD!” Ken shouted. The red haze began to cloud his vision once more, and again he found himself consumed by bloodlust. “COME OUT AND FACE ME! I DARE YOU!”

Beside him, Sora let out a cry as she fell forward, three bullet holes in her back. Ken whirled around to see a cloaked figure come out of the shadows. The figure pocketed his pistol and clapped. “Congratulations, Ken-chan,” the sardonic voice came. “You finally found me.”

“WHO ARE YOU?” Ken roared. “AND WHY ARE YOU TARGETTING MY FRIENDS?”

The killer laughed. “Who am I?” he asked. “WHO AM I?” The killer threw back his cloak, revealing a navy jumpsuit. Metal bracers decorated his wrists and ankles, and a cape flowed around him. Messy hair –the same colours as Ken’s - adorned the killers head. The killer stopped laughing to remove his sunglasses, revealing eyes of deep purple – eyes that Ken knew so well.

“Who am I?” the killer repeated. “I am Ken Ichijouji. I am you.”

Chapter 6: Vengeance is Mine




I am you. These words shook Ken as he stared, frozen and wide-eyed, at the mysterious killer who had been murdering his friends the entire night. Purple eyes – the same as his own – stared back, except these eyes spoke of murderous intent – insanity, even – rather than the shock and fear present in Ken’s own eyes. His adversary stared back, grinning at his shock.

“I am you,” the other Ken repeated, and attacked. A knife cut through the air. Instinctively, Ken moved to the side, though the knife nicked his arm. Still stunned, Ken didn’t even register the pain. Then the whip snaked forward, catching Ken on his cheek. Again, Ken neither felt nor acknowledged the blow. The other Ken frowned.

“Come, Ichijouji,” he taunted. “Where’s that fighting spirit of yours? What, are you going to kill me?” The knife spun through the air, luckily hitting Ken in the shoulder with the hilt. “Ha, I’d like to see you try!”

Ken’s mind was still blank. Who is he? He thought. Why is he here? Why me?

A machete cut through the air, missing Ken by centimetres. “You’re no fun,” the other Ken remarked. “Even your girlfriend… what was her name? Miyako? Even she at least screamed before dying.”

Miyako.

“And that other guy… Daisuke. He tried to save her even to the very end. Too bad…” Another near hit.

Daisuke.

“I wonder who I should kill next. Do you think Mother would scream if I cut her apart piece by piece? Or would Father try to kill his own son to save his wife?”

Mom. Dad.

Die, bitch.

With a roar, Ken’s mind snapped. He leapt at his double, snarling. Enraged fingers clawed their way to the other Ken’s throat. Surprised, the other Ken flailed his whip, but was unable to keep Ken at a distance. Ken shook his alter-ego, determined to strangle the life out of him.

But the doppelganger had other ideas. He forced a knee into Ken’s stomach, and then pushed the winded boy away from him. Pulling out a gun, the double unleashed four bullets.

“That was the dumbest idea your brilliant mind has ever come up with,” he sneered. “But still, you at least had some balls.”

Ken gasped for air and clutched his stomach. The other Ken had missed – on purpose, but it was close enough to show Ken that he could have died at any time. “Bastard,” Ken spat out.

“My, my, Ken-chan. You really should watch your language. Otherwise, I’ll have to punish you!” With that, the doppelganger shot out with his whip, lashing Ken and throwing him to the ground. Before Ken could rise, a second blow landed. And a third. Ken lay helpless as his dark double flogged him, while wearing a sadistic grin.

Beneath the pain, Ken’s fingers found the hilt of the knife his double had thrown at him, and closed his fist around it. Enduring yet another lash, Ken drove the knife into his double’s leg. The other Ken howled as the blade bit into his flesh, and went down hard. Panting for breath, Ken painfully eased himself back up.

“FUCK YOU!” the other Ken screamed. He raised his pistol and fired. The bullet screamed through the air and slammed into Ken’s shoulder. Ken was saved by sheer luck – his adversary had run out of bullets. Clutching his shoulder, Ken grabbed the closest weapon he could find and held it at the other Ken’s throat. “Who are you?” Ken asked again.

His double laughed an insane laugh. “I told you, Ken-chan. I am you.”

“Bullshit.” Ken brought the branch down across his double’s face. “Who are you?”

Bloodied but not beaten, the other Ken tried to raise his head. “I am you.”

“Bullshit.” Another stroke, accompanied by a cry of pain. “Who are you?”

His double was about to reply with the same twisted answer, but paused to think. “Does it matter?” he finally asked. Ken glared at him, and the double laughed. “After all, you’re about to die!” He swung his feet, knocking Ken to the ground, and slowly sat up. “Why don’t you believe me, Ken-chan?” he asked softly. “I am you. I am who you were supposed to be.”

Ken screamed bloody murder and dove for the other. The other Ken blocked Ken’s outstretched fists and launched a kick at Ken. Ken feinted and tackled the other Ken to the ground. The two antagonists rolled in the ground, spilling blood everywhere and landing blows on each other whenever they could. Eventually, however, the other Ken was able to gain the upper hand, and forced Ken under him. The other Ken pounced on him, and placed a hand on Ken’s chest to keep the boy down. “Why don’t you believe me?” he repeated. “You were supposed to be me.”

Ken coughed as he felt the pressure on his chest. “I don’t believe you… because I have friends. I used to be a horrible person. I used to fill my head with dark thoughts. But not anymore. My friends showed me that there was more to life than sitting around, planning on how I will be the top.”

“Friends?” the double sneered. “What friends? They’re all dead.”

“Because you killed them!” Ken shouted. He stiffened for a moment, but relaxed. “My friends’ lessons are still here. I am nothing like you, whoever you are.”

The other Ken laughed at this. It started out as a small chuckle, but it increased in intensity until the doppelganger was roaring his insanity to the skies. “What a speech, Ichijouji! The little Ken-chan I knew would never have been able to say such things! No, you were always just sitting around, blowing bubbles.” The double sneered. “You want to know who I am, Ken-chan? Do you?”

The other Ken laughed at the horror dawning on Ken’s face. “That’s right, little otouto. I am Osamu, who you killed.”




“Nii-san!” The eager voice of a ten-year old rang throughout the Ichijouji residence. “Nii-san!”

The ten-year old poked his head through his brother’s room. “Nii-san?”

Osamu Ichijouji quickly turned around while stashing something away. Little Ken Ichijouji didn’t miss it, however. “Nii-san, what’s that?”

“Nothing!” Osamu snarled. “Get out!” When Ken didn’t move, Osamu advanced on his younger brother, and roughly shoved him out of the room and slammed the door. Outside, Ken began to softly cry and ran off to his room. Satisfied that the intruder had been taken care of, Osamu returned to his business.

But the curiosity of a ten-year old is not so easily sated. Not long after the incident, Osamu and his parents all happened to be out of the house, leaving Ken by himself. Excited and a little scared at the same time, Ken crept into his brother’s room, hoping to learn his brother’s secrets.

First Ken checked under the bed, his ten-year-old logic telling him that it was the best place to hide something. When that failed, Ken went through his brother’s drawers. Ken was growing disappointed and was about to give up when his sharp eye caught an odd-looking storage compartment. Happily, Ken forced it open. Oblivious to the sound of the door opening, Ken dug into the compartment, pulling out several bags of what looked like leaves and sugar.

Osamu pushed open his door – to find Ken sitting in the middle of his room, spreading his precious products on the floor. Then Osamu did something he would regret for the rest of his life: he screamed. As Ken looked up, scared, their parents ran to see what happened – and caught sight of the drugs Ken had so much fun playing with.

Several weeks later, Ken found himself sitting in between his parents in the district court. He really had no idea what was going on, but everyone looked so sombre. He was told to go up and answer a few questions about the stuff he found and how he found them. He saw his parents and brother go up as well. Then he saw his brother stand in front of the judge, who looked very stern. Ken didn’t really listen to what the judge said, but afterwards Osamu was led away by several scary-looking police officers. The Ichijoujis went home shortly afterwards, and Ken never saw Osamu again.




Until now.

Ken gasped as he recognized Osamu. Osamu had always been small for his age, and four years didn’t appear to have changed that. Ken was nearly as big as he was, despite the age difference. Osamu’s hair was lighter than Ken’s, but it was only now in the morning light that Ken was able to really tell the difference. The eyes, the intricate plans… everything had been right in front of Ken, yet he missed it. Only Osamu, the grade-A student and youngest junior Japanese igo champion could have planned such a trap. And Osamu had all the motives too. Ken mentally slapped himself for failing to recognize the signs. Osamu caught the look in Ken’s eyes, and grinned.

“So the little otouto finally figures it out. Took you long enough.”

Ken lay in the dirt, his mind completely exhausted. The long night of murders came back and flooded him. Ken sighed. “Of course,” Ken said bitterly. “You were always the genius of the family. It’s a pity you wasted your talents and went into the drug trade.”

“Pity?” Osamu narrowed his eyes. “I could have gotten rich in no time, Ken-chan. Within a year or two, I could have risen to the very top of the trade, and I would have made millions. But YOU stepped in the way! You destroyed my career! YOU KILLED ME!”

Ken opened a bloodied eye. “Do you know how much you broke mom and dad when they saw you carted off to jail? Don’t you know what you did?”

“Shut up!” Furious, Osamu unleashed his pent up anger, smashing a fist into Ken’s face. Ken cried out in pain, but managed to raise his bloodied head. “No, brother. You killed yourself.”

“No!” Osamu pulled back his fist, and let it fly again. “It’s all your fault!” Another blow. “Your fault!”

Ken gasped with each blow. He was dying; he knew it. But at this point, Ken didn’t care anymore.

“I’ll kill you!” Osamu screamed. “I’ll rip you apart! Then I’ll kill mother and father. And then the judge who put me behind bars! Then…”

Ken was no longer listening. No, it wasn’t that he wasn’t listening; it was that he could not hear anymore. Nor could he feel the punches Osamu swung at him. His skull had been fractured by the blows. His face was coated in so much blood – both his and Osamu’s – that it was unrecognizable. At 7:07am, Ken Ichijouji was dead. Benihime had claimed her final victim.

Osamu continued to beat his younger brother and scream obscenities at him, oblivious to the fact that Ken was already dead. He was also oblivious to the SAT task force that was spreading out across the haunted graveyard. First they found Jun Motomiya and Shuu Kido. Then as they went in, they found more and more corpses, along with piles of ash that signalled a cremation. Frightened and disgusted by the gruesome killings, they found Iori slumped over, dead. Then they came across Miyako and Daisuke’s hung bodies, and beneath them, Ken – and Osamu.

As they pulled Osamu off his brother and slapped handcuffs on him, the hardened members of the SAT – as they later recounted – shivered to see the crazed look of vengeance upon Osamu Ichijouji’s face. Several of them broke down at the sight of Ken’s still body, and wondered what had forced Osamu to this act of insanity.




Friday September 13, 2002 9:55pm

It’s been a year since Osamu Nii-san had disappeared from my life. In a year, I got older and wiser – hopefully. My parents don’t mention Osamu anymore, actually, but I was able to piece together what happened. The only question I haven’t been able to answer, however, is why.

Apparently Osamu had been heavily involved in the drug trade, even at a very early age. He worked for one of the yakuza families. He was making quite a profit, too, from what I heard. He was intelligent and cunning – he almost single-handedly outsmarted Tokyo detectives for years. I guess he didn’t quite expect me, of all people, to blow his cover.

I do miss Osamu. Sure, he was charged with a felony, but I can’t help but feel sorry for him. He’s not such a bad guy. I mean, he was mean to me a couple times, but which siblings don’t fight? (Okay, Taichi and Hikari don’t count; they’re unnatural) But in the end, I wish Osamu didn’t have to go to jail.

I hope I see him again. No, I know I will see him again.

When the Air is Still

Chapter 7: Epilogue




Yomiuri Shimbun – evening edition – August 21, 2004


Osamu Ichijouji Recaptured



Osamu Ichijouji, who was convicted of 15 counts of drug trafficking in 2000, was recaptured by the SAT early this morning. Osamu was found in the Rukon cemetery several kilometres away from Tokyo. He is currently being charged with up to 20 counts of first degree murder, including the murder of his younger brother, Ken Ichijouji. Ichijouji could face the death penalty if convicted.

Osamu was reported missing from the maximum security prison in Tokyo on Monday August 2, 2004 during morning roll call. Tokyo police had been searching for him since, but Ichijouji remained elusive until police received an anonymous tip early this morning. The tip included information on the fugitive’s location as well as hints that the fugitive was heavily armed. In response, the SAT was dispatched to apprehend him.

The SAT managed to recapture Ichijouji just after 7:00am this morning, but found with him several bodies. Sources later report that 16 youths went camping for the weekend – the bodies of some of these youths were found. Additional sources bring the number of people reported in the cemetery to 20 that night. Later police investigations concluded that several bodies were cremated, leading to a body count of 19. Kouji Minamoto has yet to be accounted for.

Osamu Ichijouji’s trial is being set for September 22, 2004.




Wednesday September 22, 2004 1:29pm

Osamu smirked. Somehow it didn’t occur to him that today was the day, and this was the place where his future would be decided – or even if he would have a future. He sat, as comfortably as someone could on the hard wooden benches in the court room, and smirked at the disgusted looks that were being cast his way, as well as his parents’ tearful faces.

Throughout the interrogation Osamu had said nothing. He had merely laughed in the detectives’ faces and mocked their growing frustration until finally even the most patient of them had given up on forcing a confession out of him. They simply told the judge that there was nothing they could do, and that it would be best to convict him based on evidence rather than a guilty plea, as was the norm in Japan.

Not that there was very much evidence. He had been careful to destroy any evidence that he had been the killer. The only murder they could really pin on him was that of his brother. Although that was enough to send him to the gallows – after all, he had committed murder while escaping from jail – Osamu was doubtful that the judge would sentence an 18-year old to death. This sort of thing wasn’t very common, after all, and would more than likely cause an international uproar.

Still, something in Osamu’s mind was warning him that he might not get off so easily…

The judge sitting down brought Osamu’s mind back to the present. He was an elder, balding man – probably in his late 50s. The judge too gave Osamu a glance of pure hatred before calling the court to order. Osamu merely smirked at him as well. After all, the judge can’t convict him of murders he could not prove.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” the judge asked. There was no sense of formality in his voice; if anything, the judge looked more cynical than Osamu. Not a good sign, Osamu thought, but then again, it doesn’t matter.

The judge held up a small notebook. “Know what this is?” he asked. Osamu shook his head, puzzled for the first time. “It’s your brother’s journal. We can all thank your brother for leaving such detailed accounts of almost every death. We can’t prove that you were the one to kill every one of them, but it tells us who died and who didn’t.”

Osamu sneered. “So what, your honour?” he drawled. “I could have told you they were dead too.”

The judge matched Osamu’s sneer with a victorious grin. “Oh, but I don’t think you anticipated this.” He gestured to the door. “Bring him in.”

The twin doors opened, and Kouji Minamoto strode in. Ignoring Osamu’s astonished look, Kouji walked towards the judge. “Your honour, he began, I can attest that Osamu Ichijouji was responsible for every single murder.”

The judge nodded. “Please, go right ahead.”

Kouji pulled out a USB and what looked like a mechanical mouse. “I believe that anyone is wondering how Osamu managed to kill 19 people with such pinpoint accuracy. While Osamu was known for being a genius even before he was first arrested, one can only go so far on intellect alone. Why is why” – Kouji lifted up the mouse – “he invented this. Large enough to contain on the motor and high-definition audio-video functions to successfully carry out intelligence missions, but small enough to remain undetected, especially at night. I was no large feat for me to take the device and modify it to carry recording capabilities as well.”

Kouji slipped the USB into a laptop. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, your honour; we will get to see exactly what happened.

Over the next several hours, the court watched with mixed emotions as the murders played out in front of them. The judge kept no secret of his emotions – his stern face changed frequently from disgust to pure glee. At the conclusion of the video, Kouji stepped forward. “I regret to inform everyone that I am the only survivor of the massacre. I was able to see all that Osamu Ichijouji had done, but was unable to stop him. That was why I fled the cemetery to alert the police.”

Osamu gasped. “You!” he shouted. “You were the so-called anonymous tip!”

Kouji nodded. “I am.”

Osamu turned to the judge, panic evident in his voice. “Him!” he shouted. “He was in on the whole thing! It was him who persuaded the girls to get everyone to go the cemetery! It was him who told me when the time to begin was! He was part of this!”

The judge merely stared at Osamu blankly. “I’m sorry, Ichijouji. I didn’t quite hear you properly. Were you trying to accuse Mr. Minamoto of murder?”

The judge turned to the rest of the courtroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, I think Ichijouji is being a little desperate here. I think he’s trying to save his own hide by trying to discredit the witness. What do you think? Should I listen to Ichijouji and ignore all the evidence Mr. Minamoto presented because he was involved?”

The courtroom erupted into chuckles. Osamu looked around. This wasn’t supposed to happen. “It’s true!” he shouted. “This – this court is corrupt! I demand a retrial!”

The judge turned back to Osamu. “Mr. Ichijouji, I think the people have spoken. And I am inclined to agree with them. Based on the evidence Mr. Minamoto has presented us, with corroborating evidence from the police and your brother’s journal, I think it’s safe to pronounce you guilty of all 19 counts of murder. And I don’t even want to go into how you escaped from prison.”

Osamu paled, but the judge was not finished yet. “Including your 15 counts of drug trafficking four years ago, you have currently committed 35 felonies. Am I right in presuming that no one will dissent if I have this man hanged?”

Osamu looked around as everyone in the courtroom sat silently. A few even shook their heads, or whispered ‘no’. Frantic, Osamu looked over to his parents. His mother was crying, and his father looked at the ground even as he comforted his wife. The judge tapped his mallet on the table, bringing Osamu’s attention back to him.

“I have a son,” the elderly man concluded. “He’s about the same age as you. Really into computer games; several times I’ve had to go into his room and remind him to sleep or do his homework. But there’s a word he’s very fond of using.” The judge leaned forward to emphasize his point. “Pwned.”




Kouji watched as Osamu was handcuffed again and led out of the courtroom. As Osamu passed him, the younger boy smiled and whispered two words to Osamu before stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning away

“I win.”




END

I still can't get over how Kouji turned out to be the one pulling the strings. But hey, it's a convenient plot device, ne?

yeah...I had to put him somewhere.

I was actually thinking more along the lines of:

Osamu pissed Kouji/an acquaintence of Kouji's before, and Kouji's trying to get even. So he orchestrates the whole thing to get Osamu arrested and executed. Why Kouji doesn't do the dirty work himself? It's more exciting this way.

Wow, Kouji's totally gangsta in that explanation, but I can totally see it happening. XD