Broken Cage

In a dark room inside the Bohemian Club, Sumi rested, her face staring at the ceiling. She rocked back and forth on the chair; each move made a horrible creaking sound.

In the end, she didn’t need any gremlin to help her in this bid. She could do it on her own.

She pieced the puzzle together. They fit nicely and perfectly.

A boy who spiraled out of control after the death of his crush. A crush he apparently saw die himself. Or maybe, he just found her corpse, but did it matter when he had such a spark inside of him?

He was capable of so much more.

What more did he do to her? From the world in his surroundings?

She yearned to know. She hungered for more.

Her lips pursed, and then blossomed into a smile. Her face was one of elation and enlightenment.

She wanted to push him. She wanted to see what his breaking point was.

What she saw a few days ago was not a breaking point, but an outburst.

She wanted to see him spread his wings far and wide, see what Itsuki could give her.

He was one of the Awakened, or so she thought. She would need to check it with the student council later… but there were ways to test her theory.

A much more entertaining way.

(...)

Sumi worked her butt off to get the registers of the girl’s autopsy. It was a pain in the ass to get it, and she had to deal with some bureaucracy to get a copy of the thing finally. She took it home so she could read it by herself, in her room, without interruptions or meaningless distractions.

The girl left some traces behind, which were easy to find, and in turn, took Sumi to her autopsy report.

Suicide by hanging. She didn’t break her neck when she hanged herself, so she suffocated to death. Her fingertips were bruised and hurt; she tried to claw out the rope while she suffocated.

Not a nice way to go, Sumi thought.

It was quite boring, honestly. The only thing worth mentioning there was the fact that Itsuki found her dead in her family’s apartment. It quite explained a little of how messed up he truly was in the head, but Sumi wanted more.

She was using what little free time she had away from her parents’ watchful eyes to do this search, to understand the work of art she had in her hands.

Suzuki Koharu was her name.

Sumi wondered if her family still lived in Kageoka, and if so, if she could maybe come in contact with them, to learn more about the girl, and what she meant to Itsuki. “Hm. Maybe I could use the telephone list.”

While getting there in person would be a pain in the ass, given her circumstances, maybe she could call them. It was just past 7 p.m. Someone must have been home at this point.

She picked up her phone and went to pick up a phonebook. It was strange for a girl to have a phonebook, but sometimes it was needed for her to coordinate with the other virtuosos or people in group projects. IT was nice to have a phone book where she could easily take it and make a call.

“Family Suzuki, district 9 of Kageoka. I think it must be them.” Sumi sighed, gave small slaps to both sides of her cheeks, and took a deep breath.

She called them.

It took a few seconds, but someone took the other line. “Hello, hello? This is Yuzuyu Suzuki.” A woman talked from the other end of the line. From her voice, Sumi guessed she was in her fifties.

“Hello, Madam Yuzuyu. I’m Sumi Takeda, Therapist of Kusanagi Itsuki. If it won’t bother you, I would like to ask some questions regarding your daughter and her relationship with my client.” Sumi did her best to sound older. Given her wide array of talents, it was no sweat for her.

However, Madam Yuzyu stood silent for several seconds before she swallowed a sob. It was broken, hurt. So goddamn hurt that it made Sumi forget what she was doing for a solid second.

That woman was heartbroken.

Suddenly, Sumi felt ashamed of her actions. “The boy… he still blames himself?” That was the first thing the Madam said; she was so tired, like she had become tired of living and breathing. “He… he should stop blaming himself. It has been three years already. He doesn’t need to bring up offerings and ask us for pardon every other month.”

Sumi heard how Yuzyu choked back tears and sobs. “She wouldn’t want it for him. My Koharu wouldn’t want to see her friend like that. It was not his fault. Oh, good gods, it was not him!” This time, Sumi heard a cry.

Her lips dried, her breath caught in her throat.

She thought it would be easy, just make a call and ask some questions. She had not accounted for how sad, how intense it all felt.

She never lost anyone; she couldn’t comprehend the voice in that woman’s voice, and yet, she felt it, deep in her core.

Sumi felt disgusted with herself for treating it like a game. “Doctor Sumi… please, tell the boy to let go. He should live his life. Please, he is too young to tie himself to a grudge. He is just a kid… please make him understand, it is not his fault. I… I thought he had forgotten it, left it behind. It has been a year since we last saw him… my husband and I thought he had finally started to heal…”

Sumi was left speechless. “Doctor… Is he healing, right? Is that boy healing? We already lost our girl, we don’t want to see her lose her friend to grief too.” Sumi gained more than she bargained for, and she hated it.

She hated it.

It didn’t go like how she thought it would go, but she had to keep her facade. “I will do my best to help him, Madam Yuzuyu. I think now is not the best of times to call. I’m sorry, I will call you again another time.” Sumi cut the call early.

She asked no questions, and she didn’t want to. Not after what she heard. She felt so dirty.

She needed to shower.

“Goddammit. Three years on this grind? You blame yourself for her death for three whole years? What did go down between you, her, and her boyfriend? What made you that way?” Sumi grabbed her face. Her mask of control of dominance crumbled.

This was a situation where she lost all control. The moment that the grieving mother began to speak, Sumi lost all reins of the situation and just got carried away with the flow.

It was not how she did things; she went to that bomb with the wrong mentality, and it blew right in her face.

She did not dare to call them again. She would need to see someone else to give her more context for his actions.

She scoured through the phonebook in search of another number.

Kusanagi.

She called it, and was answered right away. “Are you Kusanagi-Dono? Father of Itsuki-san?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Do you have time to schedule a meeting?

Maybe his father could provide more answers.

(A few days later)

Sumi didn’t know what to expect when she stepped into Kusanagi’s home. Maybe she expected a dump, somewhere chaotic and deorganized, just like his son was.

Yet, what greeted her was a fairly modern, if bland, house, with many plants around it. Well taken care of. There was so much white in that house that Sumi questioned if the hassle of cleaning it was worth the pain.

It seemed like something would only do if they loved white that much, or wanted to always have something to clean. She didn’t know what was worse in her mind.

Maybe using her only free time on Sunday to meet an old man of a boy she only had a passing interest in was a mistake. She could use it for something better.

Sumi had no time to rethink her decisions, as someone opened the door. He was tall, not as tall as Itsuki, but still…

The resemblance was uncanny. They had some differences, but you could tell they were father and son from a mile away.

(...)