Meaning to Kill

The kitchen was quiet, the faint ticking of a clock filling the space between them.

“So, Kuro-san, as I said, you are now the prime suspect in this matter as the Shinigami. Please cooperate with us for the interrogation,” Riyochi said with a calm smile on his face, lighting a cigarette with his lighter.

“Don’t smoke in someone’s house,” Kuro said.

“Ah… sorry, sorry…” Riyochi quickly extinguished his cigarette.

“And also, it seems you have a misunderstanding, officer,” Kuro continued. “Because I don’t see any evidence on which you’re suspecting me of being the Shinigami.”

Kuro was calmly, but firmly, denying that he was the culprit behind the whole incident that happened in the abandoned warehouse. Riyochi slipped his hand into his coat pocket and took out a transparent plastic bag. Inside it was an envelope, the paper tainted with dried blood.

“You remember this?” Riyochi asked, showing the envelope.

For a moment, Kuro fell silent, his expression still calm but unreadable.

“Being quiet for this long… then I’ll take your answer as a yes,” Riyochi said, putting the envelope back. “So, any explanation why this letter, with your name written on it, was found in the abandoned warehouse where a serial killer like the Shinigami took five lives?”

“Well, I went to the warehouse. Yes, that’s true,” Kuro admitted. “They were offering me a chance to join their guild. But as soon as they realized I was merely a D-Class Shadow Hunter with no potential, they lost interest. After that, they let me leave. That’s all.”

Kuro lied smoothly, presenting himself as a low-ranked hunter.

“Hmmm…” Riyochi narrowed his eyes slightly. “I see your point, but it’s still suspicious. The Red Blood Guild is one of the biggest guilds in Japan. Hard to believe they’d make a recruitment mistake with a D-Class hunter.”

“Now, I’ve told you what I know. So, could you kindly leave my house?” Kuro said, still calmly handling the situation.

Riyochi smiled and walked toward the exit. As he passed Kuro, he spoke without looking at him.

“I’m going for now, since I don’t have strong enough evidence to prove the identity of the Shinigami. But don’t worry—seems like the serial killer Shinigami forgot to kill one person at the crime scene. When we interrogate that survivor, everything will become clear…”

“Well, good for you then,” Kuro replied.

Riyochi reached the door, opened it, and waved without turning around.

“And yeah… beware of the Shinigami as well—only if you’re not the one… See ya.”

The door closed.

Kuro sighed heavily. “Whaaa… that sure was tough. It was the first time I felt pressure like that. I’ve never felt it even in the toughest fights I’ve fought.”

He pulled out a chair and sat down.

“But forgetting a letter at the crime scene… gosh, that really was a mistake. I should never do that again,” he muttered. “But it’s a relief. Before escaping the place, I altered the memory of that blond lady… so he won’t be able to find further evidence.” He murmured to himself—just then, he heard the sound of the door opening.

“I’m back…” Akari called as she entered the kitchen, holding a carrying bag.

“Welcome back,” Kuro said.

“You’re back, nii-san,” she said, putting the bag on the table and looking left and right. “Where did Riyochi-san go?” she asked, confused.

“Well, he left after asking some questions…” Kuro stood up and gave her a gentle chop on the head.

“Ouch…! Hey, what was that for…” she protested, covering her head.

“Just to remind you not to let any stranger enter your house,” he said.

“Well, what you’re saying is true,” she admitted, “but he said he was here to ask you some questions since you were with the blond lady last time. He said the Shinigami attacked the blond lady and her companions.”

She paused, looking downward, hesitating to ask more.

“Sorry to ask this but… yesterday you came home without any harm, and you just said that the lady was a scammer…” She paused again, struggling to put it into words. “Did that happen when you were present there…?” she asked, hoping Kuro’s answer would be a no.

Kuro sighed and placed his hand on her head.

“If I really met him yesterday, how am I standing here, listening to your suspicions about me?” he said teasingly.

“Whaaa… I was just… you know… worried that maybe you met him, and you’re stuck in a situation where you can’t tell me or anyone…”

“I see. But don’t worry,” Kuro said with a grim smile. “If I ever face him one-on-one… it’ll be the last day for him.”

“Don’t say such a thing…” Akari murmured, her fingers unconsciously gripping the hem of her sweater.

She drew in a shaky breath.

“You know… taking someone’s life… it doesn’t just mean you’re killing them.”

Her voice, at first steady, began to tremble.

“You’re also… killing all their joyful memories. All those moments they created while they were alive…”

Her hands tightened, knuckles turning white.

“You’re ripping apart every connection they made,” she continued, each word dragging itself out of her chest. “Crushing all their emotions—joy, fear, anger, sadness… everything.”

Her breathing grew heavier. She stared at the floor, as if afraid to look up.

“And then you send them to a place filled with total darkness,” she whispered, “where they can’t listen… can’t speak… can’t feel anything at all.”

A tear slipped down her cheek before she could wipe it away.

“They leave their loved ones behind… all alone,” she said, her voice cracking. “Left with nothing but memories that won’t answer back when you call them.”

She tried to smile, but her lips only trembled.

“…It hurts,” she finally confessed, the words barely a breath. “It hurts when your loved ones disappear in an instant… just like they never existed.”

“Akari…” Kuro called softly. His hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach out but hesitated.

She hurriedly wiped her tears with her sleeve, forcing a crooked smile onto her face.

“Geez… look at me, getting all weird,” she said, trying to sound light. “I totally forgot—I have homework to do. Call me if you need any help, okay?”

Without waiting for his answer, she turned and walked toward her room, shoulders just slightly hunched, as if she were carrying something heavy.

Kuro watched her disappear down the hallway. The faint sound of her door closing echoed more loudly than it should have.

“So… she’s still holding onto it…”

He sank back into his chair, covering his eyes with his arm. Her words replayed in his mind, each one pressing on a wound he had never let fully heal.