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| He came in through the bathroom window; ~Reserved for Daisuke Travis~ | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 16 2010, 10:54 PM (186 Views) | |
| Reiki | Apr 16 2010, 10:54 PM Post #1 |
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Isamu Hisayuki __________ Isamu sat at the counter, idly reading his chemistry book, pretending not to hear the whispers that filtered to his ears. It would do him no good to acknowledge their words. "Isn't that Hisayuki Isamu?" a house wife whispered to her friend. The other woman nodded her mouth severe. "Yes, even though the police called him 'Child F' it was obvious that it was him. He killed his father." "The News said it was blunt trauma that he had been beaten to death with a metal baseball bat." The House wife gasped and covered her mouth as if horrified. Her companion glared at Isamu, from her safe position far away in the produce section. "The jury voted him innocent but he's a murderer!" He no longer flinched at the word 'Murderer'. Isamu flipped the page and answered a bit of his homework. Those women would eventually move on, they always did. A withered hand landed on his shoulder and Isamu looked up from his work. "Daijiro-san..." he said, closing his book and bowing respectfully to the older man. Daijiro-san owned the little supermarket and so far was the only one to even think of hiring him; even though it was a tad detrimental to his business. Daijiro-san was in his seventies with a shiny bald head and kind brown eyes that now gazed at Isamu with concern...but no pity. Never pity. "If they are bothering you, Isamu-kun, then I shall ask them to leave." he said. Isamu shook his head firmly. "No, I am fine Daijiro-san. They don't bother me, are you feeling better?" he asked, his face impassive but his eyes holding genuine concern. Daijiro-san sighed and rubbed his side ruefully. "These old bones ain't what they used to be, but I'm feeling much better. Thank you for coming in and on your weekend off too." the old man said. Isamu shrugged and turned to manage the till. "I don't mind, with Taro and Michi gone you couldn't run the store by yourself in your condition." Isamu said frankly. Daijiro-san chuckled and patted Isamu's shoulder. "You're a good lad. Well, time to close up. It looks like those two aren't buying anything." Daijiro-san said, smirking as the two gossiping housewives scuttled out. Daijiro-san picked up his cane and walked over to the open sign flipping it to 'closed'. "A good days work done." he stated. Isamu untied his apron and hung it on the coat rack as he began to clean up. "You'll be paid overtime--" "No, you don't have to do that Daijiro-san.." Isamu muttered, stopping when Daijiro-san held up his hand and glared at him. "I'm yer boss, I'll do whatever I like!" he huffed, crossing his bony arms over his chest. His expression changed to one of concern again. "Yer mother send your check today?" "Yes, I paid all of the bills and bought groceries." Isamu replied, shrugging into his coat and picking up his book bag. Daijiro-san nodded and Isamu made ready to go, he grabbed his coat sleeve. "Wait." he ordered, hobbling into the back and bringing out a bag of day old snacks and sweets. "Here, it's the least I could do." he said handing the bag to Isamu. Isamu accepted the bag and bowed gratefully to his boss. "Thank you, sir. Goodnight." he said, leaving the shop and locking up for the night. Isamu didn't like sweets, really, but he could not be ungrateful to Daijiro-san who was still so kind to him after...after what happened six years ago. Isamu's father, Hisayuki Shuzo, was a respected business man. Butter couldn't melt in his mouth with his level of charm and cool. Isamu's mother, Hisayuki Chisako, was a loyal house wife and mother. And Isane? The model son, a perfect child. But that was all on the outside, a facade to hide the rot that was their real life. In private Shuzo was an abusive, cold-hearted bastard. He'd have his fun mentally and physically abusing his wife to the point she had little love for herself or her son, then he'd turn on Isamu. No one knew about because who would believe that such a kind man face his a monster underneith? Chisako had given up and Isamu was trying his best to hold her together. It had been a rather peaceful day, on the day he had killed him. He and his mother had just made dinner when Shuzo stumbled in reeking of sake. He had slapped Chisako out of the way and focused all of his rage on Isamu. As blows rained down on him, Isamu reached for anything he could get his hands on...which turned out to be his metal baseball bat from practice, and swung with all his might. The bat hit his father in the stomach and before he could stop himself, Isamu brought the bat down over the man's head with a wet sounding smack. Chisake was in shock and called the police but it was too late, Shuzo died from the combination of internal injuries and head trauma. Isamu was arrested for murder. He was only 13. Eventually, he was tried and found not guilty of Second degree Murder as it was deemed self defense. The tabloids and the papers didn't care. They called him the 'Middle-School Murderer', 'Nevada-tan's Brother'. They hounded him daily, so much so that his mother had a nervous breakdown and left him to go live with her parents. Isamu knew the real reason she left him, despite the abuse she still loved Shuzo. Isamu no longer lived in his old home, with a small portion of his father's life insurance he bought himself a house at the edge of town. Eventually the press moved on, but the people didn't. Isamu still heard whispers, gossipers condemning him, his own peers too afraid or warned by their parents not to go near him. Isamu ignored them and the teachers as well. As he got older he learned to blank his face and emotions from prying lensed eyes and cruel whispers. He spoke less and less at school, only to answer a teacher. He only spoke sparingly at his job and only to Daijiro-san, the other two too scared to even speak to him. A feeling rose up in Isamu's chest, it was a heavy feeling that slowed his heart beat and made his mind dull. He was lonely... A sigh escaped Isamu's lips, misting in the cold night air. Isamu fished out his keys, he had been living alone here for five years now. The door creaked open and Isamu trudged in, toeing off his shoes and removing his coat. Time to start dinner. It was a simple meal of Teriyaki chicken and rice, truthfully Isamu wasn't very hungry and left some in the fridge. As he washed the dishes a roll of thunder shook the house and the loud sound of rain hitting the sliding glass door shook him out of his almost robot like movements. Isamu wiped his hands and peered outside, it looked like a miniature monsoon was happening. Furrowing his brow, he slid the door open a bit and called out above the storm. "It's wet out here, come inside." A small white and black cat shot inside like a bullet, Isamu shut the door behind him and peered under the table. The cat was busy washing so he sat a plate of food out for it and went into his room to study. Isamu had to work extra hard to not only pass the entrance exams but to surpass the stigmata of his murder accusation. He was only a few hours into his Math homework when a loud crash came from the hall bathroom. Isamu glared and cautiously peaked out of his room. It wasn't the stray cat, she was resting nice and warm on the heating vent, so...what was that? "Hello?" he called, his voice soft unused to speaking here. Isamu braced himself and threw open the bathroom door. |
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| Daisuke Travis | Apr 18 2010, 01:00 PM Post #2 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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Aaron Schubert didn't much care to keep himself confined to rules and regulations, hence why he seldom got the most high-publicity cases that he wanted to, but hell. What could you do? Didn't really bother him much though, he always ended up finding the more interesting cases to fight for anyway, even with his employers 'help' to keep him out of trouble. More than once, Aaron's boss had remarked that he could 'find dirt in a snowstorm'. That was a compliment of sorts, and the sort of thing that really made Aaron feel good, to know that he was considered incredibly good at finding that sort of info. Seriously, if he'd had the patience for it, and the desire to do so, Aaron could have become a CSI, aka 'Crime Scene Investigator', if he'd applied himself to that extent, but no... Aaron had to become a lawyer, not that there was anything wrong with that, but as a businessman, or an accountant, or something else mundane, Aaron wouldn't have to worry about bullets flying his way. That, and being a lawyer meant that he had to work by the schedule his firm gave him, rather than being mommy and daddy's little helper in their political circles. No thanks, he'd pass on all that political bullshit and mudslinging, he'd simply prosecute the bastards, rather than try to become one. Sheesh.. Still, he always got the obligatory invitation to a family reunion, which was really nothing less than another attempt to guilt him into becoming one of his daddies lackeys. His father called those people 'lobbyists, but really, all they really were was just an unarmed lackey who was only good for justifying an illegal action as legal, so that a politician could play around as much as he wanted, waste money however he wanted, and not have to pay for his or her actions. Nope, that wasn't for Aaron, not one bit. Still, as he stood outside his current targets home, he couldn't help but wonder if storming out of his fathers reunion party a few hours ago had been as smart an idea as he'd thought it would be. Not the sneaking around part, but the weather kind of thing, he was COLD! Cold and wet, but mainly the cold was what was getting to him. God he should have brought a raincoat of an umbrella... Shaking his head out as he stood under the overhand of the house next door, which was open for purchase but hadn't been bought yet, the overhang giving him a marginal shelter from the rain, marginal protection being better than none. For the umpteenth time, Aaron wondered why he'd decided not to wear a raincoat or bring an umbrella, and remembered how he'd thought that having an umbrella would attract too much attention, and using a raincoat would not only constrict him, but also make noise as he moved. Looking down at his sneakers, he knew that his soggy shoes wouldn't betray his presence unless he tried walking on tiles, but for the wet dirt and concrete and the sound of heavy rain, they were perfect, if not exactly comforting at the moment. Looking up, Aaron watched with some annoyance as someone from the opposite side of the street ran up to Isamu's home, and proceeded to drag a trashcan from the street over to the bathroom window, and started forcing the bathroom window open. Scowling at the audacity of the mans denseness, Aaron couldn't believe that he'd found someone who was yet again, too stupid to be trying to burglarize a home. Clearly the man hadn't tried to find out the habits of the man living here, and was just robbing the place in the hopes of finding something of value. That someone was home clearly hadn't occurred to the burglar, who continued to try to dislodge the window. The window opening was damn near the only smart thing the man had done so far, and that was only because he was opening the window quietly. If he hadn't been quiet, Aaron would've knocked the guys head into the wall for his stupidity. The smack wouldn't make the guy any less stupid, and might actually make him smarter. Waiting until the man managed to get the window open, then scowling once again as the man carelessly through the window onto the ground, creating something of a thump as the heavy glass hit the dirt, fortunately not breaking, the man started to try wriggling his way in, when his fat ass suddenly inhibited his forward movement through the window. Okay, to be kind, the man wasn't fat, he was just slightly round, but he should have thought about that before going into a window that was a tight fit for him. So as the man tried to wriggle his way into the bathroom window, Aaron stepped onto the trashcan, and with nothing more than a 'let me help you there' for warning, Aaron shoved the man head first into the bathroom window, hearing the man curse as he fell onto the bathroom counter, and then crashed to the floor. Climbing more gracefully through the window, Aaron pulled himself far enough into the window to put his legs onto the counter-top first, then jumped down beside the would-be burglar, grabbing the mans head and shoving it into the tile floor. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one you will be afforded one, do you understand your rights?" The man tried to struggle, but Aaron had already put his hands into handcuffs, and the man, a fat black ma, something which always amused Aaron. Not the skin color of the man, but the stereotype. Aaron knew that it wasn't just fat, black people that were stupid enough to make a stupid mistake while trying to rob a house, but he loved it when the racial profile of African Americans as poor burglars was proven like this. Likely the mans family would try to say that Aaron had trumped up false burglary charges just because the man was black, but Aaron had his car parked across the street, and knew that the black mans attempt to break in were on film in any such event. When he'd thoroughly tired the man out to the point that he could walk on his own, but not fight, Aaron picked the man up to his feet, and started marching him through the hallway. "Don't worry sir, I'm a PI, Private Investigator, and I've just apprehended the burglar. There's no reason for alarm anymore. Name's Aaron, Aaron Schubert. I'd extend a hand, but I kinda got my hands full with this guy." |
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| Reiki | Apr 20 2010, 10:13 PM Post #3 |
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Isamu's eyes immediately darted to the gun then to the PI. Gulping he gestured vaguely to the thief and shrugged his shoulders. "You can let him go, the police won't come here." he mumbled. It was true Isamu had once caught a man trying to steal his TV and he had called the police but they never came. Isamu knew when to take a hint and even when they kids spray painted his house he never called them again. Isamu glanced at the thief again and slowly backed away. "I've got nothing worth stealing anyway." Isamu walked into the living room and picked up the bag of snack cakes and went back to the bath room. He had no use for them and he was willing to part with them easily. "Here you can have these if you want." Isamu said, placing the grocery bag on the floor and gently petting the black and white cat the twined around his legs. He mused about the P.I. he would probably be angry with him for letting the robber go but...no one had been hurt and nothing had been stole and the only thing broken was his window. So Isamu saw no reason in calling the police and having them open he record. After all a petty burglar was nothing compared to a murderer. Not sure of what else to say, he had spoken so much already, Isamu could feel his anxiety rising and a tight ball twisting in his chest. Over five years of being for the most part along had left Isamu with a bit of social anxiety, and being vilified as a murderer didn't help either. |
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| Daisuke Travis | Apr 20 2010, 11:00 PM Post #4 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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Aaron's brow furrowed at the mans timidness, combined with his not wanting to call the police, if he'd not already known the mans legal history, he'd wonder why the man seemed nervous about calling the police. "I most certainly object to just letting him go, since he needs at least 3 months of public service in the form of highway cleanup at the least." Using one hand to hold the man to a wall, Aaron lightly pushed the bag of snacks away from the thief, and used his other hand to grab his cell phone. "This is Aaron Schubert calling from 3rd and Wallingby Way, I have a burglar who attempted to break into Old Lady Palmer's residence. No I will NOT hold for- Just get me the damn police commissioner, and be glad I don't have you investigated for dereliction of duty you little strumpet!" Pressing the 'end call' button on his cell phone, the burglar took that moment to try and break away, not paying attention to the fact that Aaron still had a vice-like grip on the mans handcuffed wrists. The mans escape attempt quickly failed as Aaron's superior strength, combined with a better center of gravity, as he tumbled to the floor, his cheeks rubbing into the floor as the burglar continued to try and flee. "Now you're guilty of a break, intent burglary, and intent to flee the scene of the crime. The only thing that you can do now to make yourself look even more idiotic is to try and attack me, which you can't since I'm keeping your feet away from me." His cell phone rung, and Aaron picked up the call, giving the burglar a warning shove to stop his struggles. "Commissioner Gallengway? Yes, this is Aaron Schubert, please pick your receptionist better, she's slacking on the job again. How do I know? Because she tried to flirt with the lawyer for the defense on my last case while he was in court, she actually sent a sex text using the police issue cell phone, so I think you should look into a receptionist who isn't so into disrupting the courtroom." Aaron had stopped paying attention to the other man, who for the moment didn't have a name to Aaron's mind, though once his attention was no longer taken by a phone call, he'd remember why he was there. For now, there's the burglar to be dealt with, so that is where his attention currently lay. "Yes, yes it's the same guy actually, 173 pounds, black male of roughly 32 years of age, with a scar on his left shoulder, yes. No, I didn't perform a strip search, I just recognize the guy from his attempt to flee the county jail through my car door. Glad I opened it in time to catch him when he fell." Aaron fell silent again, then nodded. "Yes, yes I'll have him outside of the house, or would you prefer I put him by my car, so that Lady Palmer will have some peace of mind? Hold on.." Looking through the burglars left jacket pocket, Aaron chuckles and continues with his phone call. "Well well well, he even kept Palmer's picture of her husband, too bad the frame only looks like gold, he'd have taken the trouble to steal a picture frame worth less than one of his shoe laces. Hold on, scratch that. He only has one shoelace." The conversation continued on like this for 30 or so seconds, then Aaron ended the call, picked the burglar back up to his feet, and then looked at the other man, remembering that his name was Isamu. "I'm going to lock this guy up by my car across the street, he's robbed Lady Palmer before, and he did just come from her house and all. So I'll just take him over there, and when the police come and take him away, I'll come back to talk to you about your own break-in. Since you don't want a policeman over here, we'll just talk this one out with each other, and you can tell me, or I can tell you, why you don't seem to believe the police will help you. Now if you'll please excuse me, Barner and I have a little date by my car before the police arrive..." Taking the burglar away, Aaron waited just long enough for the police to come over to Palmer's house, then waited for the police to search Barney for anything else he might have stolen from Palmer, finding one of her watches as well, and Palmer screamed vehemently about seeing the man 'clapped in irons' as she put it. Then, once the police, Barney, and Lady Palmer were back to their own places, Aaron returned to Isamu's residence, knocked on the door, and waited for the man to open it. "May I come in? I'd like to discuss your situation, Mr. Isamu HIsayuki." Addressing Isamu formerly with his first and last name, clearly Aaron already knows about Isamu's record, and wants to talk about it in private. |
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