Nagito Kuzuryu spat out his miso soup when the television blared saying, "Breaking news, a young girl, believed to have been a student of Iwa High School, has been found dead, hanging from an electric pole in block eight of the Kanoi district of Tenjigu. Detectives say..."


    As the reporter droned on, the screen flashed to the image of a girl dressed in a pink nightgown. Her brown hair fanned out as wide as an eagle''s wingspan. A rope, dangling from the cable, constricted her neck. Her torso was pixelated, colored blood-red.


    Yet, it wasn''t the gruesome scene that had Nagito expelling his breakfast, it was the green iris that shone through a partially closed eye; the small beauty mark above the lip; the shell bracelet around the wrist.


    He let out a dry heave.


    Just then, his older sister, Akane, walked in from the adjacent room. She was robed in a towel with a brush dangling from her mouth. Her dark hair appeared alive, thick and long; like black-painted seaweed. She bumbled forward as if possessed, fixing on the flashing box that was nestled between two mildewed bookcases and atop a rickety table.


    Nagito''s chopsticks jittered in between his fingers. He could hardly restrain the sobs that battered the lip of his throat.


    Why Hiyoko? he thought. Not Hiyoko. It couldn''t be...


    Placing his plate onto the low-sitting table, followed by his eating utensil, he buried his face into his palm, which quickly became wet with tears.


    He had killed Hiyoko! He''d killed her, but here he was; crying.


    Akane, after clicking the television off, slid her wet arm round Nagito''s neck, patting his chest and letting her hair curtain his face. "Did you know her, Nagito?"


    He shook his head.


    "Well, anyway, maybe you should stay home."


    Rubbing his forearm across his eyes, he let out a wet chuckle.


    "Laughing? At a time like this? What''re you laughing about?"


    "Nothing, nothing. It''s just that...I always thought the world would end before you showed your soft side."


    Akane barred Nagito''s neck with her arm and ground the crown of his head with her knuckles.


    "Don''t you ever think that! You''re like a son to me," she added, releasing him. "We only have each other. Whatever happens, we have to stick together. Isn''t that what I told you after..."


    Nagito nodded, not wanting to remember the worst night of his life.


    "Now eat up. We need you alive, don''t we?" said Akane, flashing her toothy smile and rising from her seated position.


    Try as he might, he couldn''t get the fishy soup to jive with his tongue. The bits of leftover salmon floating in it suddenly looked like pieces of human flesh. With that image in his head, he pushed his plate away.


    Akane gave him a knowing nod. "Why don''t you get to bed? I''ll fix you up some tea."


    Nagito balled his hands into fists. He grinded his molars; furrowed his brows. "I won''t let the killer win."


    The corner of Akane''s mouth upturned. She folded her arms. "What do you mean?"


    "Someone--whoever it was, strung up Hi--that girl because he wanted to create fear. If I stay home then that means I let them get away with it. That I''m a coward--like you always say during training."


    Akane had begun training Nagito shortly after their parents'' death. On Sundays she would douse cold water on him to wake him at three in the morning. In minutes, she would put him through the rigorous gauntlet of kickboxing, running, and meditation. All the while she would tell him that to quit or skimp out would mean he was a coward. Those words hurt him at first, but he learned to harden his heart.


    Akane raised her chin. "Looks like my lil'' bro''s all grown up. Alright, just be careful."


    Nagito nodded, grabbing his knapsack and heading out the door.


    "Say hello to Genji for me, will you?" she asked as Nagito exited.


    "S-sure. Later, Akane."


    ~.~


    Nagito walked along the street of block nine, which was fenced on both sides by one-floor bungalows with windows thatched with wood. He craned his head towards the cotton swirls overhead. Funny, he thought, that the clouds, so full of life, could be at peace at a time like this, drifting by so lazily. To him, they appeared like pillows ready to snuff out all hapiness.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    A rusty sign post with a multi-colored map inprinted on it marked his entrance into block ten. The grass grew better there and the homes stood more confidently on their frames. The owners of such homes were already spilling out or looking through their windows; it was a balmy mid-April and the birds were singing, chirping and fluttering to and fro.


    Mrs. Hatake,craning her head out of her red-colored window, waved at him. Her smile was genuine, forming crinkles in her cheeks. Still, her milk-blue eyes were pitying; she''d been a childhood friend of his mother.


    Nagito returned the wave with as wide a smile as he could plaster across his face. Everyone must always appear happy, he thought, even when the worst news hits your door. No one must appear dissatisfied.


    He continued on past block ten, then eleven, until he reached Godi park. He found Genji sitting on a park bench writing in his notepad. He was always on the park bench writing in his notepad at--Nagito checked his wristwatch--seven in the morning.


    "Hey, Genji," he called healf-heartedly. "My sister says hello."


    Genji''s ponytail waggled when he snapped his head up. A crooked grin spread across his face, lifting his brown cheeks. "Yo! Naggy. How the hell you doing? And how is the beautiful Akane?"


    A gurgle bubbled in Nagito''s gut. "She''s fine. Just fine."


    Genji Rimoru was not ranked very high on Nagito''s admiration list. It wasn''t that he was a skeevy guy, or anything like that. It was more to do with the fact that Nagito knew that his sister had a thing for Genji. Normally, she didn''t go for the muscle-man type, but, Genji was different; for one thing, he actually liked poetry and would write them himself. Now, Nagito thought that this was some kind of play to get with his sister. He couldn''t buy what Genji was selling, so to speak.


    "Good to hear. By the way, you hear ''bout the murder?"


    The last thing Nagito wanted to do was discuss a murder mystery with Genji. "I''m late for school, Genji. Gotta go and do school stuff."


    Genji''s bright face paled slightly. "Yes. School. Right. You have a nice day, Nagito."


    "You too, Genji."Geez.


    His sister had told him to be more civil with Genji, but he couldn''t help it. Perhaps it was his instincts that instructed him to distrust him. Still, he felt a little bad; It was a hard thing to douse Genji''s mood.


    Making a move to continue on, he noticed a flicker of blue behind the oak tree adjacent to Genji, like the color of a patrol uniform. His neck bristled. It was simply his imagination, he thought as he went on his way.


    The houses of block twelve were gated and had metal speaking boxings with which you had to verify your identity. This wasn''t a surprise to Nagito because the school was only a block away.


    He checked his watch; class would be starting in only five minutes. Luckily, he knew a shortcut. The southern blocks that made up the Kanoi district had once been slum areas. Wanting to avoid having to overspend on destruction and reallocation, developers had built in the new homes around the poorer areas so that the road that Nagito traversed resembled a wavy noodle.


    All he had to do was cross the manicured yards and squeeze under the barbed fence that separated the undesirables.


    He did so, cursing when the spoke of iron scraped his back. He rumbled down the slope; green becoming stale dirt, littered with bags and bottles. A faint odor of cigar and stale urine littered the air, wrinkling his nose.


    From his position, alleys and torn down structures formed a maze of rubble and decaying walls that stretched out in front of him, shining white in the sunlight. He couldn''t imagine that people could eek out a life there.


    Sprinting, he climbed over a pile of waist-high debris; the final division between the "haves" and "have not''s." Turning left, he entered an alley that was graffitied: A-1. Skulls and lewd images smeared the walls of it. It would be a straight path to his school from there.


    He dashed through it, pumping his arms and halting when a black-hooded girl impeded his exit; the school was located at the bend. All he would have had to do was climb the fence; for some reason, they weren''t barbed there.


    "That thing you''re carrying looks mighty fine," the stranger said as she lifted her hood, her red eyes gleaming. Her canines were severely pointed and a crimson tattoo of three inward facing triangles rippled along the thick vein of her neck.


    His heart nearly stopped when he saw that tattoo. She couldn''t be...


    This wasn''t his lucky day, he thought. That was the risk of his shortcut. The slums were crawling with thieves and bandits. But this close to the gentry? They must''ve been growing bolder.


    "Let me pass and I won''t have to hurt you," Nagito said, his voice a bit too high.


    She cackled, cupping her face, her dagger leer shining through the slits of her hand. "Who the hell d''you think I am--? You don''t know do you?"


    Nagito''s muscles tensed, as if under the grip of a vice.


    "Look up, you fool."


    Nagito obeyed and staggered when he saw that the roof of the alley walls were lined with men, women, and children wielding knives, clubs, and wrenches.


    When he turned his gaze to the red-haired woman, she was holding a pistol. "I''m Minerva, you slimy kid. Leader of the Hotaku gang. Now hand over that bag and I won''t have to blow your brains out."


    How had he gotten himself into this mess? He had to think of something. Akane would kill him if he got punked by a bunch of thugs. She''d trained him to be tough. But he was outnumbered. Quickly, he formed a sketch of a plan. It might get him killed, but he had to try it. His pulse slowed as he calmly removed his knapsack.


    "Good. Now pray that there''s something of value in there."


    A wicked grin broke through Nagito''s face, distorting it into the mask of a devilish creature.


    Minerva primed her weapon. "Why are you grinning? I say something funny?"


    "No, it''s just...there''s something in there that''s very precious to me," he said, hardly repressing a demented chuckle. "Would you like me to show it to you?"


    For the first time, doubt surfaced on Minerva''s features. She pulled at her shoulder-length hair. "Show me you weasel, or I''ll sick my hounds on you."


    He unzipped his knapsack ever so carefully, stepping closer to Minerva.


    She seemed to be under a spell because she leaned in ever so closely to the dark opening of the knapsack, only inches from her nose now.


    Nagito bashed her temple with his backhand. He roundhoused her jaw, sending her sprawling.


    Running, he could hear the gang cursing and yelling, but he was already hopping the gate and, after approaching the front of the building, blending into a crowd of students as they walked towards the entrance of Iwa High.