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Cry
Chapter 1
August 12, 1998
Tokyo Daily Journal
...Mashigoto Ayame, age 12, was found raped and murdered this morning just south of the Tokyo Drift. Believed to be another of the growing victims of gang rapes in this city, police officials are increasing their efforts against gangs in the Tokyo Drift and throughout Japan.
Young Ayame’s elder brother was expected to make a statement today but unfortunately, he was unable to attend the press conference about the gang rapes. We are hoping for a statement from him later this week.
In other news…
8 years later…
His left hand rested in his pants pocket, pushing back the edge of his blazer to flare out behind him. In his right hand was a lit cigarette, which he now drew up and took a light drag from. He blew out the smoke into the wind with a sigh before dropping the cigarette and grinding it beneath his booted heel.
Somewhere in the background played an American song he didn’t know the name to, but she had loved it so.
The roar of a jet engine sounded overhead and he looked up, following the plane’s path rather absentmindedly. Then he turned and disappeared into the rush of the city.
His dad, a business man from Tokyo, had moved from Tokyo to New York when Satu was three. It was then that his parents divorced. He had only seen his mother three times in his life, and none of them had been happy experiences.
Now, Satu’s father had been killed in a freak car accident and the State Government was sending him to live with his mother in the heart of Tokyo, Japan. A woman he barely knew. Man, he barely knew Japanese.
“Time to get your stuff, Satu. We’ll be landing soon.”
The guy escorting him to Tokyo was large and muscular, almost like a body guard. But despite the overall bad guy look, he had a real jovial smile which he wore nearly all the time. Satu thought he was too overly optimistic to be a bodyguard.
The stewardess came by to make sure that they were ready to land before moving on and Satu continued staring out his window.
Suddenly, he got the feeling he was being watched. At first he looked around the plane but saw no one. Then he felt overwhelmed with grief. His head fell down between his knees and he stared at the floor with wide eyes. Was someone watching the plane pass? Such passion, such pain, it startled Satu into rebuilding the walls around his mind.
Satu had a secret. Satu was telepathic and clairvoyant. He could sense other people’s emotions and sometimes see things before they happened. It was rather strange but Logan’s mother had been clairvoyant and she taught him how to control his gifts. Someone, somewhere, was hurting.
Nothing ever stops
These thoughts
And the pain attached to them
Sometimes I wonder why this is happenin’
It’s like nothing I do can distract me when
I think of how I shot myself in the back again
Cuz from the infinite words I can say I
Put all pain you gave to me on display
But didn't realize instead of setting it free I
Took what I hated and made it a part of me
The American rock poured from the stereo but if you looked at the blond lounging on the couch you wouldn’t think it was turned up to full volume. One arm stretched over his head as he stared at the ceiling, marring his view with a thin plume of smoke from the cigarette in his other hand.
The cordless phone rang and he stared at it a moment before leaning over to pick it up.
“Unh?” was his only comment to the person on the other line.
“You weren’t sleeping were you?” God, her Japanese accent drove him up the wall.
He yawned and sat up, crushing the cigarette in the ashtray.
“Speak English, Tera, you’re better at it. And no, I wasn’t.”
“Good. You did remember what you promised me, right?”
“Of course not.” He replied, standing and walking over to the small fridge he kept upstairs. Opening it, he pulled out a can of beer and popped it open, balancing the phone on his shoulder.
“Excellent. His plane should be arriving any time now. And would you please turn down that damn music?”
He took a long swallow from the can and then placed half-on and half-off the edge of the table on which the stereo sat.
“Gomen, Ter.”
He turned around and walked downstairs. Now you could see he was barefoot beneath the navy slacks he wore.
“Now I can hear myself think.”
He smiled as he walked through the kitchen to the sunroom.
“Remember what I told you.”
“Zenzen.”
“And most importantly…are you listening to me?”
He picked up a magazine with his face on the cover and began flipping through.
“Hai.”
“Most importantly, DO NOT SMOKE AROUND HIM!”
He dropped the phone.
“Wait!” shouted his overly happy bodyguard. “Shouldn’t I accompany you?”
“I’ve been here before!” Satu yelled back as he ran up to the building.
The car drove off without hesitation with Mr. Happy leaning out the window, saying to call if there was any trouble, his mother had the number. Satu waved back, desperately trying to get away.
But he should’ve watched where he was going.
The next thing he knew he’d collided with a firm chest, for one moment his world consisted of navy cotton smelling of cologne and male and then life caught up with him and he rebounded, falling back against the pavement.
He looked up, ready with a cross word for whomever had been standing there, but the words died in his throat and all that came out was a gurgle.
For watching him as he sat there speechless was one of the most beautiful men he’d ever seen.