Japan, modern times...

Kira

~

I wouldn't say I was angry, but it's pretty hard to put your emotions into words when your mind feels practically numb.

The irritated thrum beneath my skin continues throb as I sit at my desk seething a bit childishly while looking out the window. I hold my phone but I'd quickly become bored of it at some point.

My eyes then move from the Tokyo cityscape view beyond my window to the small family portrait which rests not that far from me on the desk. It was framed in a dull gold rectangle with intricate heart patterns in silver.

The picture held only three people. Me, my stepsister, Kat, and my stepdad, Ares Vermilion.

That's right, I'm the adopted one. Not as big a deal as you might think.

Kat never saw it that way despite my best efforts to sweep the negative emotions under the rug over the years so we could actually be sisters in more than name. I'd given long time ago though, all that mattered was making Ares happy, even if it meant coming back so close to the place that held nothing but bad memories for me.

A mirthless smile tugs at my lips as I remember the promise I made to come back. All those years ago, braver and more jaded than I am now.

It's been seven years since then.

Seven years since the night I witnessed my parents run into our burning apartment complex to get my younger brother, but no one ever came out. And what did I do? I ran, ran so much my memories became hazy, words and people blurring into each other until I awoke the next day in the police station to bear all the adults speaking over me.

All bodies were yet to be recovered but was safe to say there were no survivors. Most likely an arson case but no culprits were caught. As if the fire had must started from nowhere. I was put into the foster care system but my memories from that time are ones I like ignore the most. The pain I'd caused, the people I'd hurt, all because I thought that a stupid kid could find their family's murder.

It was a stroke of luck that I'd managed to run into Ares a night I ran away from another family. He came to Nagoya for business and left back to America with a little child. He gave me new chance at life, a chance to put my past and the death of my family behind me. Whoever I was in the past was an identity locked in a coded safe at the back of my mind.

Realistically I was still far away from my old home, but not far enough.

I could never be far enough from the memories, but I could ignore them and pour my all into forgetting.

My first year of high school starts tomorrow, and this time I wasn't going to let my past or paranoia ruin it for me.

It didn't help that Tokyo had some vigilante patrolling its streets. A vigilante that got away with murdering people.

I'd heard about it even years ago, some hooded person who the people called 'Demona' because all the criminals she didn't kill always turn up at the doorsteps of the police station muttering shit about demons.

Back when I was a kid in Nagoya I'd thought it was an urban myth of some kind. But now, looking at the news reports, and some grainy internet videos on my phone now and again I realized this menace was very much real.

I don't believe in demons, but do believe in terrible people masking their violence as sick, twisted justice. I used to be one of those people.

The thought makes my gut churn.

I scroll through more stories. It seemed like this Demona person had been around for a long time, with sightings in even the most remote areas of the country, which is why most people weren't too concerned about cases concerning them.

Their victims always turned out to be criminals.

Lately though, there are multiple new reports of people turning up dead with missing chunks of their bodies in the weirdest places. There were debates online on whether it was Demona's doing or not.

The killings had started a little over three weeks ago.

Not long after we settled here.

I sigh heavily, this is my life now, living in a city with a batshit vigilante swinging through rooftops like she was some Spider-Man copycat while possibly being serial murderer.

Standing up from the desk I face the rest of my room, thinking about this wouldn't do me any good, maybe helping with dinner would help me calm down. It was between that or unpacking and I really wasn't in the mood to start digging through boxes.

I look at the sorry state of my still-bare room. The posters were yet to be up leaving my lavender-painted walls bare and plain looking.

My bed was neatly made, the only piece of furniture other than the closet, which had a piece of me to show its ownership. The shelves on the other hand were empty.

My deepest fear being that if I got too comfortable here, something bad might happen again.

I was going to give this a chance though. I had a life to live and dreams to chase. Where we lived wasn't going to change that.

Nevertheless, I was leaving my stuff in my boxes just in case Ares finished whatever job he had at any given moment. Was it dumb? Agreeably so, but I wasn't ready. I turn off the lights and shut the door behind me, hoping against hope, that this time I could leave the past behind.

Our new home was a penthouse. Stylish, luxurious, and high class. Ares always liked to say he'd get nothing but the best for me and Kat. It was sweet the way he always tried to make us happy.

Not complaining but he always did tend to go overboard. I make my way to the kitchen where I witness him struggling with some vegetables.

Did I forget to mention none of us know how to cook?

"Just order takeout, dad," Kat's drawl reaches my ears just as she pushes past me to the dining area. Her short auburn hair sways lightly as she casts a nasty look over her shoulder.

As far as she was concerned, I was the reason her parents split up, I was the reason they hated each other. She wasn't going to see things any other way and I'd grown tired of trying to defend myself.

"I'm very sure I'll get it this time, honey," Ares beams as he narrowly avoids chopping his thumb off along with the tomato.

"Sure, Ares." I pat his back, supportive. I then take the seat across from Kat. She glances up from her phone and makes a small noise of disgust.

"What's got you so pressed?"

"It's just really disrespectful, you know?" She huffs coolly.

"What is?"

"That you have the nerve to call him by his first name. After all this time you still do that. It's obvious that he's not your real father but can you be more respectful if youinsist on ruining everything. "

"Kat, it's okay, I asked her to-"

"It's been seven years will you-" I glared.

"Will I ignore my life fell apart because you wormed your way into it?! I won’t!"

I'mstanding, looming over her at the other end of thetable an anger and guilt thud throughmy veins, "Its been years, stop pinning that on me-"

"You know I'm right-"

"Girls that's enough!" Ares cuts between us, voice stern enough to make both of us quiet.

I hiss in annoyance, staring deep it her eyes before turning towards the living room. I should've realized sooner, her default when she's pissed off at something is to drag me to her level.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"For a walk, I'll be back by dinner."

"Kira-"

"That's right, hope you stay where you belong!" Kat cuts him off.

"Katherine!"

I hear the sound of a chair scraping against the floor which probably meant she was leaving the dining area as well. My shoes properly on, I leave the penthouse, taking the elevator to the ground floor and stomping out into the busy streets.

Stupid Kat.

I've did nothing wrong.

Her words should mean nothing to me, only Ares mattered but even then a part me, however small, still wants her acceptance even if I don't know why.

I don't want to think about why.

I take out my phone and pull up a map, mybe I'd see some sights and take some pics for my socials. I don't do much on any of them, especially in the interaction department.

I search my pockets further.

No money for a bus or something.

Well, I did say a walk.