X (OHSHC)

Two weeks had passed since the last time Megumi Akimoto had gone to school. She was a good student, she really was. She was just . . . sad. If anyone had the right to be sad, she decided that she was one of them.

When she saw her mother, always asleep in her bed, unable to eat or rise even at the pleas of the maids, Megumi thought that life was unfair.

When she saw her father, coming home later and later every night with the acrid stench of alcohol drowned in cologne, Megumi thought that life was really unfair.

Or maybe it was the gods who were unfair.

Megumi visited the temple often, during her time away from the Academy, and made sure to curse them every day. Damn them. Insensitive, cruel beings. Perhaps they'd take her away as well, kill her for her blasphemy. She didn't mind being dead, as long as the constant hurt went away.

Oh gods, it hurt.

Despite her name, Chiharu Akimoto did not last a thousand springs. She only lasted nine. It was ironic. Of course, when her mother named Chiharu, she didn't expect the girl to actually live for a thousand years. But no one had expected Chiharu Akimoto to die so young, so suddenly.

She was nine.

Small reminders of her former existence lay in a complicated jigsaw puzzle only Chiharu Akimoto had seen and understood. None of the hired help had the heart to put them away, to destroy what was left of her legacy. Ribbons, dolls, toys, books, and crayons. Pieces of her remained, and sometimes, Megumi forgot that she was gone at all. The times she did remember that Chiharu Akimoto was dead, she felt like shit.

She should have taken better care of her. She should have greeted Chiharu when she saw her, at least waved or something. Maybe then, Chiharu Akimoto would not have run across the street to say hello to her beloved yet distant elder sister. Now, everyone had to say good bye to Chiharu Akimoto. All because of one selfish, aloof, piece of shit Megumi Akimoto.

But she couldn't cry. That only made her feel worse. She did not cry, not even once, since her sister's death. Maybe she really was an emotionless monster, like her mother had screamed before she was bedridden. Since Megumi was a murderer, the name-calling didn't seem so petty or meaningless. After all, it was true; she was a monster.

Thus, Megumi spent those two weeks alone, avoiding her friends, her parents, and her fiancé.

Two weeks wandering outside, avoiding cars, cursing gods, and wallowing in the solitude of her rooms.

Two weeks . . . until she found Chiharu's last treasure map.

Chiharu Akimoto was remembered as a lover of pirates and islands and ships. She loved treasure chests, but was especially enamored of the treasure maps. She adored the secrecy, the intricate planning involved, the somehow grown-up element of the maps.

Her school bag had been returned after the funeral, a week ago. Megumi had avoided it for as long as she could. Someone had tried to wipe away the blood, but smears of it still remained. The only reason she'd even touched it was because it was on the ground, and Chiharu Akimoto hated anything that defied her rules - and one of her rules was to never leave anything on the floor.

After Megumi pinched the straps between her forefingers, she tossed it onto the desk.

A sheet of paper fluttered to the ground, disturbed by the momentum of the bag. She wouldn't have noticed it, she would have simply replaced it, if she hadn't seen her name scrawled on the back in rainbow hues.