𝐑𝐔𝐑𝚰 • 𝐀𝐉𝚰𝐍

001. Not Much Has Changed

SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER...

The dim street lamps peel on the single road in the crowded neighborhood, each bend of the small road leads Ruri further and further in the night. The particular back roads in the neighborhood are usually quiet and safely empty, with not much worry of pedestrians or any horrifying-like substance striding by.

She pulls into the driveway and collects her belongings from the passenger seat, setting outside in the dark with barely a flicker of light. Wrapped in exhaustion, she never thought she'd be working overtime and coming home at this time in regards to her sappy job she wouldn't have gotten into without her brother's big help, it certainly isn't fitting for her best interest.

Ruri lies on the couch facing the plain white ceiling. Perhaps she shouldn't have much to nag about, considering Tsuyuka is out and about with his precarious job, she's lucky enough to be complaining about her job and lazily on her expensive leather couch.

Ruri's orbs penetrate and yet never stray from the upper view of her home like there was a framed painting of something abstracting, long enough for her to remain still.

Tsuyu.

She ponders wearily, or more so thoughtfully if Tsuyuka is doing okay. She hadn't realized until now that because of their jobs, they've been flooded with an endless loop of work. The last time they've genuinely met? If she could put it into words...

Tsuyuka had gotten accepted into his dream career, and they both gathered themselves to celebrate. Some vow between them made as children, quite stupid but if Ruri could trace back once again, she would love to see that beam of his. But of course, obstacles have gotten in the way, and his work specifically did.

Ruri, of course, kept her promise as a child as well. Accomplishing her place as one of the top agents and even earning an executive spot in The Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare, alongside her brother. Instead of the detective career he dreamt of, he went further into his work and was acknowledged. However, dreams never come as intended, and in such little matter of time, Ruru sought a different path rather than her giddy brother and landed right where she is now.

Because of Tsuyuka's huge accomplishments, she can feel rest assured now. If that makes him happy, nothing else mattered. But one thing surely never strays her mind, to begin with as she ponders.

Not much has changed.

But she'll be alright with it. Right?

A buzzing ring vibrates against her leg, leaving her confused for a moment before reaching for her phone out of her pocket. She isn't expecting any phone calls, she's not supposed to.

Then she comes to a halt when the screen lights up.

Ruri picks up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Ruri-san. It's Araki, Tsuyuka's colleague," Araki's voice is unusually low on the other line.

She gets up from her comfort spot and sets into the kitchen. "Ah, I remember you. It's been a while since the last we saw each other." She speaks through the phone as Araki hums in response.

"So, why the late-night call? Don't tell me the base got flooded again."

Araki is silent for a moment. "Actually, something did happen, Ruri-san," he speaks carefully. "I know it isn't a great time, but I ought for you to know this first."

Her head drifts. "...what happened?"

He's silent once more. The shudder of his breath could be heard through the phone, an indication of his next words, ones she would never hope to hear.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Ueda. Tsuyuka... is gone."

•

•

•

The building is silenced in a womb of weeping, grief, and bitterness. What brings Ruri to several surprises is the number of unfamiliar people whose faces appeared in black suits and dresses, staring sadly at the young portrait of Ueda Tsuyuka framed on the side of his casket.

Most are acquaintances, colleagues, and friends. But none are family.

Ruri sits among the row of chairs to grieve for her brother, but in the row of seats is herself. Alone. It wasn't until a few quiet voices conversed to themselves that she wouldn't hear, or so they thought.

"She hasn't shed a single tear since she's arrived, how horrible." A lady whispers.

An identifiable raspy old voice talks after her, "I know... Mister. Ueda deserves someone much better."

In the little corner, they rash about, gossip is all they breathe after all. Ruri's features are composed and light, despite the bitter words tenderly burning at the tip of her skin. There is no one better who could have handled it this far, no better than her when she thinks of her brother.

"Poor young man. The police are too caught up on themselves to even investigate his death further."

Eyes shoot up at Ruri when she instantly rises from her seat, she bites her inner cheek to keep her voice at bay or better yet, her words. She begins to step away from the room as conversations are now hushed, and drives straight to the restroom.

Within seconds and realization, a wet puddle streams down her cheeks, averting her eyes to the mirror to take sight, tears free themselves like endless drops of melting wax.

Ruri's anticipating breaths are hyper, struggling to breathe and heaving slowly. Her mouth was bedridden in the hand she covers solely, keeping away the loud weep.

She looks up at the lone figure in the mirror. Her dark red eyes are in complete ruins, the darkness could succumb to her whole, which she's afraid to close her eyes to.

How could it have resulted in this?

After years and years, Tsuyuka dreamt and worked only to die in the end with no closure. Killed.

And the last bit of thing Ruri can absorb is her brother's dead body.

If she had stayed with him and in the path, he would've been safe and here right now. After all, nothing could kill her, and even if something or someone did,

she'd always revive.