Demise Game

11. survivor's guilt

  "About fifty years ago was when my brother and I first heard of the legend of the Book of Demise.  At the time, it was nothin' more than a rumor spread to scare high school students, but my brother grew interested fast in it.  Humans, after all, can come up with such interesting stories...  He wanted his own, and so, he created his own version of the Book of Demise to appease his boredom.

        "At the same time my brother was figuring out his little game, I had...  Grown attached to a human."  Shiki paused, blinking slowly as if he were remembering the past vividly.  "He was..."  Seeming to struggle with finding the right word, Shiki finally settled on one that didn't seem to do his own feelings justice.  You didn't question him, though.  "Interesting.  Before him, I hadn't cared about humans too much."

        "Alright..."

        "I had mentioned the human to my brother in passing, and my brother had decided to include him in his first run of his Demise Game."  Oh.  Oh.  You could already see where this was going.  "It's called a 'game', but there is no winnin'.  It's just a way for my brother to torture people before stealing their souls."

        Shiki's voice remained detached, and as he was technically a cat, reading his facial expression was next to impossible.  You could do nothing but let him continue on, hearing his side of the story unfold.

        "There was no savin' the human I had grown fond of.  I found him, dismembered, with my brother laughing at his death.  I lashed out at my brother, and in his annoyance, I was reduced to this."  Shiki's tail flicked in irritation, the cat seeming to snarl.  "Every game subsequently, I tried to ruin."

        Well...  That was kind of a lackluster explanation.  It explained how Shiki came to be as a cat, but didn't really give you anymore information that would help you beat Kokkuri-san or the game.  Not that you would tell Shiki that — he was trying his best, and you recognized and appreciated that. 

        "Were you really unable to talk until now?"  you questioned him, still curled in on yourself. 

        "Yes, although I'm not sure exactly what happened..."

        Well, you'd have to add that to your ever-growing list of mysteries to solve.  Something told you it wasn't just a coincidence.  And speaking of coincidences...

        "You hung around me before the game started," you started slowly.  "And...  I think the demon...  Um, your brother — he knew stuff about me."  You tried to keep your voice from sounding accusing.  You weren't sure how well you actually did.

        ". . ."

        When Shiki didn't answer right away, you sat up a bit straighter, eyebrows knitting together.  "Shiki."

        The black cat stayed quiet a moment longer before seeming to sigh.  "Truthfully, your club was picked far before you all summoned my brother.  Every ten years, he picks a group of students and slowly manipulates them into starting the game.  As soon as I found his presence lingering, I sought out the first person I could in the group."

        "And that was me."

        "Yes.  There's nothin' you could've done to avoid the game."

        Unwrapping your arms from your legs, you threw yourself backward, head thumping on your pillow as you blankly stared up at the ceiling.  Somehow, knowing that it wasn't technically your guys' fault, that the game had been unavoidable, made you feel even more hopeless.  As if this demon was, and would remain, several steps in front of you and the rest of the journalism club.