Distorted | Shimada Genji | g.s. / s.g.

act I. xiii.

April 1st, 2058

Neala fidgets with her fingers as the handcuffs cut shallowly into her wrist and bounces her free leg - since the other is detained - underneath the table. The girl sits in a wooden chair with a charcoal colored desk in front of her. The room is secluded with nothing else except two dim square beams in the middle of the ceiling. She maneuvers her eyes anxiously, spotting cameras in all four corners of the room.

She knows it's an interrogation room for a reason though there is no need for the blunt energy thrown on her.

The entrance door behind her creaks open abruptly, making Neala flinch. The familiar cop from the scene who whispered in the notetaking cop's ear loops around the desk to sit in the chair ahead of her. He clears his throat and throws his arms on the table, "You are in for a ride so you better buckle up and start talking, girl."

The Reis girl narrows her eyes. Who does this guy think he is to treat me like this as just a suspect?

She stares at him blankly, awaiting an even more elaborate explanation. He aggressively sighs as if she is playing dumb. "You murdered three people tonight and all the evidence points to you, so will you just give it up already?" She blinks at him, puzzled. She rests her once bouncing leg and fixes her posture. He slams the desk, "You are really going this route?"

"I already told you everything I know when I said I came home to my parents dead on the floor."

"Is that why the murder weapon had your DNA on it?" The girl's eyes widened.

What?

"No, that has to be a mistake. I mean, you have Forensic Pathologists for a reason," Neala counters with her arms crossed, the handcuffs causing slight discomfort. She looks at the wall for a second, "Could you bring me some water?"

The police officer sighs as he looks around with apparent irritation, "Looks like we'll have to walk through it."

Neala clasps her hands together like a child prepared to listen to a story. A Japanese woman scurries into the room with a glass of water for the girl who nods with a smile. She takes a few sips before setting the drink down. The officer allows her to finish and carries on.

"Shimada Genji left that high school dance with you and dropped you off at your house which did not line up with the story you gave us versus the Shimadas–"

Neala barges in, "Wait, so, you are choosing to believe a story immediately told by the Shimadas–" The man slams his hand on the desk to silence her and her lips are zipped as soon as the sound reverberates.

"--Shimada Genji had gone back out to be with you after saying goodbye to his mother as told by her and the other witnesses in the residence," The officer pauses as he takes a sip of his coffee. He swallows it and clears his throat to continue his train of thought. "He never came back after that. His body was found lifeless at your dispense the same night as your parents murder. The weapon was found with your DNA. Right now," He once again stops his sentence, his malicious pupils staring into her soulless ones, "all the evidence, a lot of it I have yet to mention, points towards you."

The girl's eyes remained wide at what she was hearing. Her heart aches since she is still in denial and disbelief. About three hours ago, she saw her lifeless guardians' bodies on the ground gushing blood both dried and flushing. About three hours ago, she saw Genji alive and well, but he is now dead. Her mind runs rampant, but her body language remains the opposite. She cracks her knuckles, "I did not kill my guardians and Genji. This is all a setup."

"Your father, as you probably already know, was a part of Hashimoto..."

For Neala, that is when the world turns quiet. The police officer's voice echoes in her head but words are just gibberish. Her mind was placing pieces together and soon connected the fact that her own father was going against the biggest criminals in the country. He brought their family to Japan to fight the evil that was eventually going to consume his family's country.