The Worst Kind of Meeting

The meeting was starting later than usual. Inori had been planning to tell the group more about her world, but she was surprisingly absent. Takamasa and Konomi were walking around together and mingling considering they had decided to make their relationship more official. Yuki and Shingo were congratulating the couple. Haruki was by the refreshment table typing away on his phone while Asuka was making a fresh pot of coffee because the group had already drank one pot while waiting.

"I'm starting to worry about Inori." Ichiro said as he approached the group.

"She might have fallen asleep after work." Takamasa puzzled out.

"I didn't think she worked today." Konomi chimed in. "And doesn't she usually stay up pretty late?"

"She does. I usually go over to her place after meetings and we make some food." Ichiro answered.

"Well, she's not answering her phone. Maybe I'll go over and get her." Haruki said walking over to join the group.

"I can go check on her since I have a key." Ichiro volunteered. "Plus it's only a couple blocks away so I can walk over there real quick."

"That sounds good," Yuki responded after very little deliberation. "We'll stay here in case she shows up here, so if she's not at her home, come straight back and we'll figure something else out from there."

"That sounds good. I'll be back soon." Ichiro said before turning and walking out of the community center.

Already dark outside, Ichiro casually walked down the street. Street lights lit his path along the way. Along the walk, he thought back to his first time in the city. He chuckled remembering that he thought cars were magic beasts. Light shining through windows showed how lively the city always was as the shadows of people moving inside gave him a sense of calm knowing there were so many around. It wasn't long before he reached the apartments where he and Inori both lived. Ichiro passed the cars as he made his way to the stairs.

As he ascended the outside of the building, he started to feel uneasy. He began to get the overwhelming feeling that he was being watched. He whipped his head around looking in every direction to see if he was right. Nobody seemed to be stalking him through the streets nor watching him from the parking lot, but he simply couldn't shake the feeling that someone was after him. He reached Inori's door and inserted the key after knocking twice to no response.

Opening the door, he was met with an overwhelming metallic smell and a mostly dark apartment. He tried turning the lights on, but to mostly no avail. A light flickered from the kitchen and, as he entered slowly, cautiously, he called out."

"Inori?" Ichiro bellowed as he continued in leaving the door wide open.

A few steps later, Ichiro found the source of the metallic smell. Inori's body was slumped against the refrigerator with blood pooling on the floor around her. Ichiro couldn't take his eyes off of her. While refusing to step any further, his eyes darted across the scene before him. The room had been ransacked in an obvious fight. Inori had been stabbed several times while also having several slices in her left arm as if she used it to defend herself. Engrossed in the situation, Ichiro almost didn't hear the door close down the hallway he had come from.

As the lock clicked, Ichiro realized the gravity of the situation. He stood up straight and, with rage in his eyes, slowly turned his head to see what kind of opponent awaited him. There, only being lit by the flicker of the kitchen light, was the emaciated, scrawny body of a man, in his mid seventies, standing in his underwear. Ichiro noticed the toothy grin on his poorly shaven face and the knife in his hand. As the old man stepped forward revealing the rest of his face, his black eyes seemed to grow wide and fixate on Ichiro.

"You did this?" Ichiro asked rhetorically. "I'm not the kind of enemy you want to make."

The old man leaned forward slightly but aggressively. Ichiro knew what was coming and stood, prepared for the fight to come. Between the flickers of the light, the old man lunged forward closing the distance to Ichiro. He was fast; much faster than would be expected of someone his age. He swung the knife wildly as Ichiro dodged over and over. As the pair moved through the room, dodging around furniture, Ichiro couldn't find an opening to respond to the flurry of attacks. The old man connected with a slice into Ichiro's arm. The young survivor flinched, grabbing the wound. The black eyed old man paused his attacks for a moment to let out a guttural, broken chuckle.

Ichiro reached around, grabbing whatever he could, and threw it at the man's face. A pair of books connected, distracting and confusing the old man. Ichiro took that opportunity to go on the offensive and knocked the knife out of the old man's hand. With that, the old man grabbed Ichiro by the shirt and started beating him with the other hand. It was as if he suddenly went rabid. Each swing delivered the full force of what he could muster into Ichiro. The brutal strikes tore gashes into Ichiro's face. Battered, and barely able to defend himself, Ichiro slumped in the old man's grasp.

Suddenly stopping his assault for some reason, the black eyes turned their gaze toward where the knife had landed. Releasing his grasp on Ichiro, the old man moved toward the knife while Ichiro hit the floor. The young, red eyed man gasped for breath and watched, through his now blood tinged eyesight, as the old man picked up the knife and twitched, he turned back toward him. Ichiro barely grabbed the old man's hand as the knife went into his side.

"You really do move fast, don't you?" Ichiro gasped from having been stabbed.

The black eyed old man let out another guttural chuckle before being kicked back into a table. Ichiro pulled the knife out of his side but winced in pain and dropped the bloody knife on the ground next to him. With blood oozing from his side and the old man began to climb back back to his feet, Ichiro knew he wouldn't have another opportunity. He dove on his elderly attacker and began punching him with every bit of his strength. Ichiro's time training hadn't been for nothing. Between the strikes, the old man struggled and hissed, but moved with less strength and effort as the beating continued.

Punch after punch, the fury in Ichiro's eyes began to fade until he was slamming his fists into the chunks of meat and bone where the old man's face used to be. Climbing off the man, Ichiro struggled to his feet through the pain of his wounds. He looked down at the hole in his side as his vision blurred.

"Help" Ichiro rasped barely loud enough to be considered sound.

He held his wound tight and stumbled from the apartment, leaving a trail of blood drops in his wake. After fumbling with the door for a moment while leaning against the wall, the door swung open revealing the outside world that had given him such comfort such a short while ago. He stumbled along the walkway toward the stairs and he was once again met with the feeling that someone was watching him.

"I'm too injured to fight anyone else." he thought. "If someone is watching me, then I can only hope they'll help."

He stumbled down the stairs, holding on to the railing to stop himself from falling. Blood slicked the path behind him. Once he reached the bottom, and he lost anything to hold on to, he fell to the ground and let out a grunt of pain and coughed. Blood flecked from his cough onto the ground in front of his face.

"Is this where I die?" He wondered out loud as he crawled along the sidewalk.

The blood trail behind him smeared as he drug himself along. Ichiro shivered as he pulled himself along with one hand and continued to hold his stab wound with the other.

"It's getting cold" he coughed, "but I have to warn the others."

He had crawled to the edge of the parking lot before his consciousness had begun to dissipate. Setting himself up against a car tire, the red eyed warrior resided himself to death.

"I'll never make it back to them." He trembled and choked. "They're smart though. They'll figure it out. Sorry Inori, I didn't make it to you in time. Sorry Lenora, I didn't have time to get strong enough in this world. Sorry Yuki..."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse from the shadows nearby.

Ichiro choked and wheezed and as he mumbled, "So that's how it is." tears streamed down his face.

The city around him began to dim as if all the light in the world started to burn out. After a few moments, nothing but darkness remained in the eyes of the young man.