The Fifth Monster

Ichigo. That was the only thing Fukei knew about him, or any of the children in Smile World for that matter. By now, it was rather obvious – their “names” were just a code for their ranking and numbering in the orphanage, and whether that number represented their actual age or capabilities after taking the drug, only the mastermind behind the operation would know.

It’s why Fukei couldn’t let his guard down against Ichigo. The latter was also the first in everything that he had done so far – from talking to Fukei, to inviting him into the “family”, revealing the horrid truth that they were hiding, and the first to give the order to punish him.

In fact, Fukei was rather surprised his brain wasn’t already mush with the gun behind his head. But piecing together the fights he had with the others, and it was clear that they, for now, really did mean for him to join them.

And so, he talked. “Fine, but drop the gun.”

“You drop yours, and I drop mine,” answered Ichigo with a chuckle. “How does that sound?”

“Deal.”

As the words left his mouth, Fukei opened his grip. Instantly, his neck didn’t feel the cold steel anymore, but the battle was far from over.

Both of them ducked at the same time, with Fukei turning around also. The boy reached high to capture the gun that was falling from Ichigo’s side, while the latter reached further ahead to catch Fukei’s falling gun.

By the time they’d returned to their original positions, they were both pointing at each other once more; only this time, they'd stolen the other’s weapon.

“Good job!” Ichigo exclaimed. “Those battles just now had really done you a favor, Fukei.”

“I don’t need your empty praises, monster,” Fukei replied.

“But who of us is the real monster here?” Smirked Ichigo. “I sure wasn’t the one that killed four people tonight.”

“Don’t try to weasel your way out. You forced my hand.”

“Did we really? Or was it just your excuse to soak your hands in our blood?”

“One more word and your head’s eating lead, punk,” Fukei hissed.

Ichigo sneered, pretending to shiver. “Oo, scary. No wonder you’re willing to kill all of my siblings. But I’m a civilized man; I just wanted to talk, after all.”

“What is there to even talk about?”

“Oh, plenty. Do you happen to know the concept of kodoku?”

“What am I, an encyclopedia?” Scoffed Fukei.

“Shame,” Ichigo shook his head in disappointment. “I thought you’d know. I mean, aren’t we living it right now?”

“What?”

Ichigo attempted to step to the side, but Fukei was sticking to him like glue, his gun still firm in his hand, locked and loaded. The last thing the latter wanted was an opening for a shootout.

Contrary to Fukei’s worries, however, Ichigo never had any intention to run or fight. His claim of just talking, so far, remained true.

“Kodoku is an ancient Japanese mystic art. It involves putting a bunch of poisonous things together in a jar, you see, and let the creatures inside fight it out. The one that emerges victorious is supposed to be the deadliest, most poisonous of them all, enough to kill anyone that the user pleases. Well, there are actually some versions of the story that states the remaining creature will bring luck to the user, but you get the gist.”

“What, you’re suddenly a folklore expert now?” Fukei snickered.

Ichigo, however, seemingly ignored the taunt. “Arima Kyosuke,” he suddenly called out a random name.

“Huh? Who are you talking about?”

“First place in the recent national junior piano contest. A musical prodigy with a god’s ears. He was in a relationship with Osaragi Miyako – two-time junior division gymnastic winner – until the two of them mysteriously disappeared. The police have been throwing a search party for them, to no avail.”

“Did you hit your head or something, punk?” Fukei was seeing red more and more after each word. “Do you need me to punch a hole through your skull to fix it?”

Disregarding the threat, Ichigo continued.

“Akamichi Noritaka. His hometown is in Osaka. Even though he’s only in elementary school, the boy is known to have caused trouble among his peers and even against older kids. He’s known on the streets as the ‘Red Demon of the West’. By the way, you’re also famous here, you know that?”

“Shut up,” Fukei spat. He couldn’t care less about what people thought of him. So what if his impulses had gotten him a reputation? It wasn’t his fault that he needed something to de-stress after each round of argument against his mother.

“Kidou Shinji,” Ichigo continued to grin. “Son of detective Kidou Shinsuke. Though he’s only five, the boy has shown remarkable intelligence and craftiness. It’s only a matter of time that he eventually follows his father’s footsteps to become a policeman in his own right.”

Fukei’s eyes widened in shock. With this last dialogue, he finally knew what Ichigo was talking about. And the biggest proof of all was right in front of him, as Ichigo pointed at himself:

“Oda Shuiichi. The rising star in high school football. Having just won the All Japan tournament, people expect him to be called up to the U-20 team in due time.”

It was a shocking revelation. One that Fukei couldn’t even believe what he was seeing, so much that the sweaty palms, the shivering nerves that he thought he had long discarded returned to him again.

“You… were aware? You remembered who you are? Who everyone else was?” He stuttered. “H-How long?”

“The whole time,” chuckled Ichigo. “You see, Fukei. The Commander didn’t kidnap us. He gave us a chance.”

“A chance… for what?”

“To escape. From the conniving adults who only came to extort from us. From the stress that came with fame and notoriety. From the expectations that unreasonable people put on us just because we’re somewhat gifted.”

“Then… Smile World…” With each word, Fukei’s head spiraled more into a heap of confusion and horror. “Was it…”

“Oh no, what the detective thought was still true,” Ichigo shook his head. “Smile World is a drug. It’s just incomplete. I mean, what kind of superpowered drug would that turn out to be, right?”

Clocking his gun once more, the young man laughed. It was the most deafening, the most hateful… yet, the realest laugh that Fukei had ever heard.

“We’re all failed products here, bud. But the Commander gave us a place to finally be free. We just had to compete; he hoped that by doing all kinds of things, Smile World would slowly get assimilated into our system, amplifying our current abilities.”

“And those ‘all kinds of things’ include murder and cannibalism?” Fukei raised his voice.

His only answer was Ichigo's hysterical laugh as the latter faked wiping his mocking tears. “Haha, you actually fell for it?”

“Then…”

“Actually, no, we did. The Commander told us that it could be by consuming foreign substances that would strengthen Smile World’s effect.”

“You… Have you no heart!?”

“I don’t know, have you? After all, you killed people, Fukei. Real, functional people. No excuses this time. You’re just as big of a monster as any of us.”

“It… It was… I…”

Fukei could only stutter like a broken robot. Ichigo was right. If they were all aware of what they were doing, then all these kids were just people. Psychos, but people nonetheless. They weren’t stripped of their freedom; as a matter of fact, they willingly chose to become this way. And that would mean only one thing…

“I… killed people…” Fukei let out a bitter laugh. “I, killed people…”

“That’s right, Fukei,” smiled Ichigo. “You’re just a monster. Like all of us. But that also makes you just human like any of us. The kodoku still stands, and now it’s just you and me. So, brother… what do you say?”

“I… What I can do… is…”

There was no way around it anymore. Fukei had already admitted it deep in his heart. He was a monster, just like all of them. And there was no drug to control him; unlike those kids, who could blame Smile World but chose not to, he willingly did what he did, and there was no drug to blame on.

And Fukei knew. For monsters like him, there was only one option.

“See you in hell.”

As the words left his mouth, both of them pulled the trigger at the same time. However, there was a key difference between the two of them.

Fukei aimed at Ichigo’s heart. From the start, he had never intended to let the latter live. Whether it was for his own good or for his personal feelings, Fukei was ready to kill. Ichigo, on the other hand, only aimed at Fukei’s stomach. True to his words, he never wanted to kill Fukei, but just to talk things out in the hopes of convincing the latter to join him.

And that was the line between life and death.

Fukei felt a sting like no other. This time, the bullet actually went through his organs instead of just his shoulder, causing the ground where he stood to be dyed completely in red in mere seconds.

Ichigo wasn’t as lucky.

The young man immediately collapsed on the spot. There was no more convincing, no more mockery. Dead on the spot.

Fukei, however, also collapsed right after. The stomach wound wasn’t lethal, but without treatment, it might as well be. And as they were in the middle of nowhere, dragging his injured self to the nearest hospital was only a pipe dream.

“Haha… Serves you right, punk…” Fukei laughed in haggard breaths, even if each time air moved in his body, his stomach screamed in pain. But he wasn’t done yet. There was still one thing for him to do.

“Now… for the last monster… to be laid to rest…”

Mustering all the strength he had left, Fukei raised his gun to just barely above his head, the barrel aiming straight at his forehead. It was a gun stolen from Ichigo, so it had plenty of bullets to go through.

But fate had other plans.

Before Fukei could pull the trigger, another gunshot – this time deafened by a silencer – whispered in the air, hitting Fukei right in the arm and knocking his gun off his grip. Immediately, an iron chain slithered towards him at a blistering speed of a lunging snake, wrapping itself around his remaining arm and yanked his body away.

As he was still questioning, Fukei had already appeared in the middle of the main road. Just in time for a face to look down facing him, bearing the widest grin it had.

And to his utter shock, it was a face that he never expected to meet again.

“Yo, Fukei. Miss me?”

“... Goh?”