School Girls' Stories
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Rating:
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Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
54
Views:
40,751
Reviews:
137
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Two Days Earlier
A/N: CrazzyGirl! If you e-mail me I will do my best to answer what won\'t spoil the future for you. Though this chapter does answer a few more questions, I hope. ^_~ Samm_o good to see I still have your attention. Tiera, you are nuts, but I love ya as a fan. And to some of my newest reviewers, thank you, for giving me what I need to hear!
Chapter 51 – Two Days Earlier
Nakago walked into the small room they had reserved for visitations. A guard would always stand watch at the door while Nakago spoke to his family. He was actually quite surprised they came this day, since it was not a holiday, they had no obligation to seeing him.
His surprise turned to complete shock when it was Yuki that was sitting in front of him, alone, with a bundle of letters in her hands. She looked up at him with very familiar grey eyes and a sad smile.
“Hello, big brother,” she said sweetly.
Her voice sounded very familiar to that of Kaori’s and as the door closed, sealing him in with his baby sister he had a spine tingling chill and a sick sort of bile in his throat. Yuki however did not know how to play the games that her older sister knew. Yuki was innocent and naive. “Yuki, what are you doing here, and how did you get here?”
“The bus,” she said simply. “Nakago, I came here for help.”
“How am I supposed to help you, in any way, from here?” he asked, sitting down across from her at the little table.
Yuki just shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I don’t know how anyone can help me, but I just know that you are the closest one to knowing the answer.” She proceeded to tell Nakago all of the things that Kago had done, and would do, and his infatuation with the macabre murders of innocent women. Nakago felt a tug in his stomach that was unfamiliar. It was hatred. Nakago, despite all of his misgivings, never hated anyone. Hatred lead to more unwanted feelings, and since most of his feelings for his other sister were unwanted, he had tried to release at least one feeling he thought he could control. He disliked, he had distaste, but there was no one out there he loathed, especially Kago. They had been acquaintances. They had gone to bars, done drugs, and spoke of secrets that could only be shared between two such sick minds.
This, however, was going too far. At the end, Yuki did not only fear for her life, but for Fuji’s.
“What made you decide to tell me this now?” he asked of Yuki. “Especially after it has been nearly a month and a half since he came to attack you.”
Yuki shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her eyes falling to the table between them. It was several long minutes before she took a deep breath and readied herself to answer him. “I went and visited him a week or so back,” Yuki admitted, which caused Nakago to raise an eyebrow, though he said nothing. “It was not a social visit. It took me that long to realize I had left my history book there.” Yuki blushed profusely. “It shows how much homework I have been doing lately.” She shook her head, took a deep breath, and plunged on. “He told me he did not know where I left it, so I was free to go up and find it. In his room, I found a shrine to Fuji. Every inch of his walls were pictures taken of her, and not just the innocent ones he had from before, these were pictures of her recently. He had been watching her and she did not even know it.
“He had one picture mutilated, it was of her and Amatsu,” Yuki stopped, taking a deep breath, remembering the look of the picture. “Amatsu had been bloodied in the picture, by real blood, Kago’s blood. Fuji was left unharmed, but Kago had placed himself in the picture as the one killing Amatsu. It was just… sick.”
It seemed like decades ago when he had known all of these people. The Yuki before him even seemed like a different girl. He did not know what to do, but it was unforgivable what Kago had done to his sister. It did not matter if he had often found Yuki to be the scum on his shoe, Yuki was his blood. Yuki was the mirror of what Nakago and Kaori would have been if they had never found each other: innocent.
“There’s nothing I can do,” Nakago insisted. “I’m in a prison, and by any other name that is all it is, a prison. I can’t help you.”
Yuki left, deflated, tears in her eyes. Nakago had been her last hope.
Two days later, Nakago’s bed was empty when the guards came to check in on him. He had managed to escape.
Nakago walked into the small room they had reserved for visitations. A guard would always stand watch at the door while Nakago spoke to his family. He was actually quite surprised they came this day, since it was not a holiday, they had no obligation to seeing him.
His surprise turned to complete shock when it was Yuki that was sitting in front of him, alone, with a bundle of letters in her hands. She looked up at him with very familiar grey eyes and a sad smile.
“Hello, big brother,” she said sweetly.
Her voice sounded very familiar to that of Kaori’s and as the door closed, sealing him in with his baby sister he had a spine tingling chill and a sick sort of bile in his throat. Yuki however did not know how to play the games that her older sister knew. Yuki was innocent and naive. “Yuki, what are you doing here, and how did you get here?”
“The bus,” she said simply. “Nakago, I came here for help.”
“How am I supposed to help you, in any way, from here?” he asked, sitting down across from her at the little table.
Yuki just shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I don’t know how anyone can help me, but I just know that you are the closest one to knowing the answer.” She proceeded to tell Nakago all of the things that Kago had done, and would do, and his infatuation with the macabre murders of innocent women. Nakago felt a tug in his stomach that was unfamiliar. It was hatred. Nakago, despite all of his misgivings, never hated anyone. Hatred lead to more unwanted feelings, and since most of his feelings for his other sister were unwanted, he had tried to release at least one feeling he thought he could control. He disliked, he had distaste, but there was no one out there he loathed, especially Kago. They had been acquaintances. They had gone to bars, done drugs, and spoke of secrets that could only be shared between two such sick minds.
This, however, was going too far. At the end, Yuki did not only fear for her life, but for Fuji’s.
“What made you decide to tell me this now?” he asked of Yuki. “Especially after it has been nearly a month and a half since he came to attack you.”
Yuki shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her eyes falling to the table between them. It was several long minutes before she took a deep breath and readied herself to answer him. “I went and visited him a week or so back,” Yuki admitted, which caused Nakago to raise an eyebrow, though he said nothing. “It was not a social visit. It took me that long to realize I had left my history book there.” Yuki blushed profusely. “It shows how much homework I have been doing lately.” She shook her head, took a deep breath, and plunged on. “He told me he did not know where I left it, so I was free to go up and find it. In his room, I found a shrine to Fuji. Every inch of his walls were pictures taken of her, and not just the innocent ones he had from before, these were pictures of her recently. He had been watching her and she did not even know it.
“He had one picture mutilated, it was of her and Amatsu,” Yuki stopped, taking a deep breath, remembering the look of the picture. “Amatsu had been bloodied in the picture, by real blood, Kago’s blood. Fuji was left unharmed, but Kago had placed himself in the picture as the one killing Amatsu. It was just… sick.”
It seemed like decades ago when he had known all of these people. The Yuki before him even seemed like a different girl. He did not know what to do, but it was unforgivable what Kago had done to his sister. It did not matter if he had often found Yuki to be the scum on his shoe, Yuki was his blood. Yuki was the mirror of what Nakago and Kaori would have been if they had never found each other: innocent.
“There’s nothing I can do,” Nakago insisted. “I’m in a prison, and by any other name that is all it is, a prison. I can’t help you.”
Yuki left, deflated, tears in her eyes. Nakago had been her last hope.
Two days later, Nakago’s bed was empty when the guards came to check in on him. He had managed to escape.