A short little thing

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Even though he's been in America for nearly three months now, Shiro still tries to keep up with the news from Japan. God bless the Internet. Alone in his room, Shiro sits down on his bed and turns on his laptop.

Nothing too interesting. The Tokyo High Court overturned a ruling for some sumo arena owner to pay his father-in-law millions of yen for inheriting it. Australia wants to export beef to Japan. The study of the Chinese language is on the rise across the country. And a half dozen people were found brutally murdered in the Roppongi District of Tokyo. Not an unusual occurrence there, of course, but something in the article drew Shiro's attention.

All six of the victims were missing their hands and feet, and a circle was carved into each of their chests.

He reads on, staring at the monitor, and nearly swears aloud when he reads the names of the victims. Nishizaka Ryuu. Hino Shingo. Kyoukai Hotaru. Inochino Rina. Inochino Saburo. Inochino Minako. That last name causes him to double take. Minako was a classmate of his before he came to America. A pretty girl who liked to highlight her hair red and practice archery everyday after school. She's the only person Shiro had ever dated, and she'd given him his first kiss. She was the nicest and most generous woman he had ever met, excluding Mariko-onee-san. She wanted to be a lawyer, she told him once, just like her father.

And now she is not only dead, but her corpse desecrated. Worse yet, Shiro knows who is responsible for this. There is only one man in all of Japan who marks his victims this way.

Harada Keniuchio.

Comments

OOC

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