Let's Play A Game, Shall We?

Prolouge

Misaki

I believed I had everything figured out. Following after my parents, I would become a lawyer as they wished. From the outside, we looked like the perfect family that anyone would want to be a part of, but it's so much more than that. People always wondered why I didn't show emotions, they didn't ever know the half of it.

My name is, or at least was Misaki Akiyama. I have a little sister, Yoshiko. I haven't seen her in two years. From what I know, she already graduated high school. God, I miss her so much. Due to certain circumstances, I was prohibited to contact her in any way.

Before it seems like I did something wrong, let me just explain.

The Akiyama family was known for multiple bloodlines of lawyers, accountants, businessmen, and was very well respected, not to mention wealthy. So in my family, pursuing other careers or activities were banned unless they benefited the family at all. There was no time for horseplay, meaning that Yoshiko and I had to grow up fairly quickly. Do good in school, never disobey. There were consequences if the two of us ever disobeyed those rules. My father, Haruka, had been very disappointed when my mother had Yoshiko. He had wanted a boy to take over his business.

My mother, Reiko, seemed as innocent as can be. From the outside perspective, she was the sweetest, most gentle woman that anyone could ever meet. Sometimes I was sure that she only married my father for money, but at this point I don't care whether she did or not. At home, she gave out the most unjust punishments. Yoshiko, being five at some point had accidentally tipped over a vase that could easily be replaced. She had attempted to shove soap into her mouth, but I stepped in. It was me who got soap up their mouth that day.

Until about two years ago, I could do nothing but stay behind with chains around my wrist, Yoshiko and I were never allowed to do anything that children would do. When I graduated, I was already accepted into Harvard to study law. Though it was one of the best school I could get into, my parents were surprised to see that I couldn't get into Yale.

After another argument with my father, I decided to blow off steam by watching the news. That's when I found out about the string of murders leading around my neighborhood area. Not only that, but they found a letter written on the walls at each of the locations. I recall the moment when I felt goosebumps and shivers down my spine.

ί

ς

ʍ

Ƙ

α

ί

How ironic was it that the exact letters found on these crime scenes were the correct ones that spelled my name?

Misaki.

I couldn't even begin to explain how I felt when I saw those letters. Pathetic letters that could dictate my fate, and whether or not I was next. Yoshiko, fifteen years old at the time, had stopped sketching in her notebook as she turned to me. As much as I hated to admit it sometimes, my little sister was brilliant.

"Misaki...?" Her words trailed off, getting lost in the echo of huge space we called the living room. I opened my mouth to speak, to let her know that it was coincidence, that I wasn't in any sort of danger.