Fanfiction: Fractures (Completed 07/11/15)

[Sadako]

Right, head-above-the-parapet time. I’ve been working on this story for about three weeks now. I’m six chapters and 10K words in. I’m estimating about 20-25K when it’s all done.

The story is up on AO3 in its entirety here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4493490. I’m also going to attempt to post it chapter by chapter here.

Fractures is a mystery/adventure story set about six years after Hisao’s bad ending. Rated Mature for blood, danger, and Emi’s occasional potty mouth.

Saying much more at this stage might spoil some surprises, of which (fingers crossed) there will be many.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Comments and questions always welcome. And yes, I will finish this, because if I don’t Rin will haunt my dreams.

[Sadako]

Fractures: Chapter 1

1. Run Down

Emi Takada was halfway across the Ministop’s parking lot, a full bag of groceries in either hand and her car keys held in her mouth, when she heard someone shout her name.

Her pace faltered. It had rained while she had been in the store, and the tarmac under her feet was wet and slick; with her balance ruined by the groceries it would be easy to turn too quickly and end up on her backside. Instead she stopped, planted her left foot solidly and swung herself around, inwardly cursing her bottled water habit. “Mmf?”

“Mrs Takada?” There was a young woman trotting towards her, maybe eighteen, wearing a dark blue Ministop uniform. “Please wait!”

Emi put one of her bags down and took the keys from her mouth. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m so sorry.” The woman skated awkwardly to a halt and bowed. “Please forgive me for shouting, but I’m afraid you forgot this.” She straightened, took a folded carrier bag from her pocket and handed it over with both hands. “It’s your purse. You left it on the counter.”

“What? You’re kidding. How did I..?” Emi took the bag from her and reached inside. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“I must have distracted you, please forgive me.”

Emi grinned. The girl reminded her of someone from a long time ago. “Seriously, it’s fine. Got a busy day, that’s all. Stuff on my mind.” She put the purse into her pocket. “Thanks for running out here.”

The girl nodded, wrapped her arms around herself. The wind was rising, a cutting November chill. “That’s quite all right. Do you need any help getting your stuff into the car?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

“Um, Mrs Takada?” The girl was frowning. “That’s your car there, isn’t it?”

Emi glanced back over her shoulder. Her little blue Toyota was a few metres away, nestling alongside a row of scooters. “Yup.”

“Should the wheel be like that?”

“What? Like what?” She put her other bag down and took a couple of steps closer to the car. “There’s nothing wrong with the wheel, it was fine when I got… Oh.“

“Maybe you drove over a nail,” said the girl sadly.

“Aww…” Emi sagged. The rear tyre was completely flat, practically sagging off the wheel rim. “Now what?”

“I can call the JAF if you like.”

“No.” Emi squared her shoulders. “No, I can do this. It’s just changing the wheel, right? How hard can it be?”

“Ah, very?”

“I’ve got a spare. I think I’ve got a spare.” Emi would have liked to have crouched to study the wheel more closely, but crouching was one of the few things she had trouble with. She bent over to it instead, supporting herself on the car’s flank and mentally calculating how badly this was going to ruin her day. “Half an hour on this, drive home, stock the fridge, get changed… I can be at the bar before seven, easy.”

“Bar?” Determined to be helpful, the girl had picked up both shopping bags and was trotting around to the back of the Toyota.

“I’m meeting a friend. Haven’t seen her in a long time, so I really don’t want to be late. Don’t worry, I won’t be drinking.” Much.

“Mrs Takada…” The girl had frozen behind the Toyota, staring down at the other rear wheel. She turned to Emi with a nervous, lopsided smile on her face.

“Um… Would you like me to call you a cab?”



The Ministop wasn’t very far from Emi’s apartment. While the cab fare wouldn’t have been much, it was still an expense she hadn’t planned for, and most of her money was still vanishing into legal fees. Despite the weight of her bags, it made more sense to walk.

She would go back to the car tomorrow, and call the JAF on her mother’s tab.

She made her way carefully. The urge to push herself faster still rang at the back of her mind – it was always there, prodding her constantly – but today she found it easier than usual to resist, and not just because of the weight of her groceries. The damage to her car had shaken her more than she cared to admit.

One ruined tyre she could pass off as an accident, even when closer inspection had revealed what looked very much like a knife-cut deep through the sidewall. To find both rear wheels identically assaulted was genuinely frightening.

Emi had enemies, or at least people who didn’t like her any much; what she had received through the mail a week ago was proof enough of that. She hadn’t realised that any of them were capable of slashing her tyres, though.

The sound of a car horn snapped her out of her reverie. She glanced about, and realised that she had already made it halfway home. The pedestrian crossing was only a dozen metres ahead – she could cross the road there, make her way back around the nursery and then take a shortcut up the little hill that led to her block. Ten minutes max, fifteen if she was careful. She smiled.

It was dark now, and getting colder. Despite her thick winter coat and scarf, Emi wanted very much to be indoors.

Another car horn. She peered back over her shoulder, saw a white Honda van pulling out into the road. Something was parked back there, a tatty-looking green Ford, practically in the middle of the road. No wonder he was getting hooted at.

Emi trotted up to the crossing, paused there to make sure nothing was close. She stepped out.

Dimly, she heard the Ford gun its engine.

For several seconds the sound simply didn’t filter through from her ears to her brain. It was stupid, impossible. She was on the crossing, so how could anyone be accelerating towards her? The notion was too ridiculous to consider.

She stopped, halfway across, and turned to see a wall of green metal bellowing out of the darkness.

Emi was quick on her feet, even the ones she was wore to go shopping. She jerked back, took two swift steps in reverse. Easily enough to give the moron space to go past.

The Ford swung towards her.

She yelped in horror, hurled herself backward, the bags flying from her grip. The heel of her left foot hit the kerb. She flailed, stumbled, and then the Ford was on her, slamming into her right leg.

The impact was ferocious. Emi was spun clear over in the air, sent whirling down into the sidewalk. She hit face-first, the breath hammered out of her as she struck, rolled over and over. In the light of the Ford’s tail lights she could see her right leg in the road, whirling like a top.

Someone was running towards her. The Ford had slowed. Sickeningly, she heard it shift into reverse gear, but then the driver must have thought better of coming back to finish the job. Too many witnesses, now.

She sagged back as the car surged away.

There were hands on her, helping her sit up. “I’m sorry,” she was saying to them. Why was she apologising? She was starting to shiver uncontrollably, nausea roiling in her gut. “Sorry, I’m so sorry...”

“Miss, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she managed. “Fine. I think I’m fine.”

“Oh my God,” someone gasped. “Her leg…”

Suddenly, Emi wanted to laugh. “It’s okay,” she muttered. “They’re supposed to come off.”

Instead of laughing, though, she started crying. It took quite some time before she was able to stop.

[Sharp-O]

Well, colour me intrigued! A very mysterious and engaging first chapter, Sadako. I look forward to the rest

[brythain]

You have a great 10,526 words out there. They capture the three characters' histories and interactions well, and the plot is coming along nicely too. Would love to see more of it here.

[Sadako]

Thanks very much for the kind words, people! Time to post the next couple of chapters.

Which would be so much faster if it weren’t for my italics fetish.

[Sadako]

2. Paperchase

She was still apologising the following morning. “Sorry Lily. This isn’t exactly how I’d planned our big reunion.”

Lily Satou smiled, shaking her head. “I hardly think going to a bar would have been appropriate last night, do you?”

“I dunno, I sure felt like getting hammered after the police were done with me.” Emi was at the counter of her kitchenette, holding a teaspoon. Her own mug already had a double spoonful of instant coffee in it, but as she had started to scoop out more for Lily she had realised she had no idea how strong to make it.

She could have just asked, but being able to give her friend nothing but Nescafe was shameful enough already. “Ah, sugar?”

“No thank you.”

“I should have remembered, sorry.”

She heard Lily chuckle softly. “After five years?”

Emi tipped in a medium-sized spoonful, topped both mugs up with hot water then carried them over to the table. Lily was sitting on the far side, her back straight, hands folded elegantly in front of her. Looking at her made Emi feel small and clumsy and badly-made.

Time had been kind to Lily Satou. She was, Emi had to admit, just as pretty as she had been back at Yamaku Academy; her pale features fine and unlined, her hair still as golden and flowing as before.

If there was any real difference to her, it was that she seemed to have filled out, just a little, around the hips. Perhaps the food in Scotland was better than Emi had heard. “Here you go. I’m so sorry, it’s just crappy instant. I bought some good stuff yesterday, but it was still in the road when a truck came past, and-“

“Emi, please.” Lily put a hand out, her long fingers brushing the mug until she found the handle. “No more apologies. You’ve had a very nasty experience that could, quite frankly, have been much worse. Postponing our evening out for a day or two is a small price to pay, I assure you.”

Emi had to take a long breath before she could trust herself to speak. “Thanks, Lily. And for last night, too.” What had started as a hurried phone call to explain why she wouldn’t be able to get to the bar had turned into a tearful two hours. “Hey, maybe we could go out tonight? I’m not going to be able to train for a few days, so it’ll help take my mind off stuff.”

“I’d like that. But remember, I’ll be working in Japan for at least three months. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”

Emi pulled out the other chair - there was only room for two - and sat down. As the weight came off her right leg a needle of pain drove itself up into her knee, and she winced.

Lily caught it, of course. “Are you all right?”

“Just my leg. Mainly the part I haven’t got.” She saw a confused frown cross Lily’s face. “Phantom limb stuff. It’s worse when I’m stressed. Been off and on for the past week or so, but now it feels like someone’s trying to bend my toes back to my heel.”

Emi reached down to ease her right stump out of the prosthetic, massaging the bruised skin with both hands. She’d been extraordinarily lucky not to have been more seriously injured by the impact – had she been wearing one of her more tightly-fitting legs she could easily have shattered a bone.

That was something she preferred not to think about. At all. “I’ll be okay. I’m just glad this happened in November. If I’d been in summer clothes I’d be one big gravel rash by now.”

“Have you had any more contact from the police?”

“Nah.” Emi took a gulp of coffee. “Ew. They’re just treating it as a hit-and-run.”

“You’re certain it wasn’t.”

“He put the car in reverse, Lily. If those people hadn’t been there…” She shuddered. “God, where did I go wrong?”

Lily scowled. “Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“I’m not, I’m blaming him. Or one of his bastard friends…” She pushed the mug away. “The only thing I blame myself for is marrying him. Honestly, I spent so long trying to keep everyone at arms’ reach. The one time I properly let someone in, turns out he’s an asshole.”

“Well, yes,” Lily replied. “When I looked you up I was rather surprised to find under your married name.”

“Trust me, as soon as the divorce comes through, it’ll be Ibarazaki on everything.”

She felt Lily’s long fingers brush her own. “Emi, I’m so sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

“It’s just life.” She put her other hand over Lily’s. “We wanted different things. I wanted medals, he wanted to screw the entire female population of Chiba. And he wasn’t even nasty about it until I told him I wanted a divorce. I guess he took that as some kind of affront to his manhood, or something.”

“Which wasn’t exactly impressive to begin with, if I recall correctly.”

Emi supressed a grin. She’s been in email contact with Lily for a while, and the subject had come up more than once. “That’s what drives me crazy, you know? It doesn’t make any sense. Sending scary letters through the mail is the kind of jerk move he’s capable of, sure. But slashing my tyres and trying to squish me with a car? That’s a step up.”

“Letters?”

“Okay, letter. Not really a letter. Just a… Thing. Don’t ask.” She folded her arms, puffed her cheeks angrily. “For Christ’s sake, it’s not like I want half his stuff. He can keep it all, I don’t want anything to do with him anymore. I just want my name back.”

“Emi, this… Thing you mentioned.”

“Seriously, don’t ask about that. You don’t want to know, it was horrible.”

Lily looked nervous, almost frightened. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to press you on the matter.”

A knot of unease began to tighten in Emi’s chest. “Lily? What’s going on?”

“Please,” the woman whispered. “What did you receive?”

“It was…” She turned away, unwilling to see the expression on Lily’s face. “Something cut out of a newspaper. About that boy who got stabbed.”

Emi wasn’t sure which newspaper the clipping had been taken from. The story had been given wide coverage for a few days, partly because of the random, brutal nature of the killing, but largely because of the nature of the victim. Osamu Kodai had been a promising graduate, a rising star in the field of architectural engineering. At 24 years old, he already had two design awards to his name.

He was also a double amputee, the aftermath of a childhood infection. Left leg below the knee, left arm below the elbow. Emi had sat two rows behind him at Yamaku Academy. “It was a copy, a photocopy. And somebody had cut out a picture of my face and glued it on over his. It was just this, sick, awful… What are you doing?”

Lily was reaching into her bag. She pulled out a roughly-folded sheet of white paper, spread it out on the table, and pushed it across.

Emi jumped back, the chair scraping, tipping behind her. “Shit,” she hissed. “Oh shit. Lily, when did you-“

“Three days after I arrived.”

“That’s… Oh God, that’s the day I got mine.” Emi was staring at the paper, her skin crawling, unwilling to get too close to the ghastly thing. She was still near enough to see the picture of Lily’s face, roughly cut out from some old photo and glued over Kodai’s. “Wait, how did you-“

“We have a secretary to deal with anything not in Braille. She described it to me.” Lily patted the table until her fingers reached the page, then took it back and re-folded it. “Her reaction was very much the same as yours.”

“Why would he do that? Why would he send something to you?”

“We have to consider the possibility,” Lily said quietly, “that he didn’t.”

“Then who…”

“Someone with a green car, perhaps.” Lily’s hands were folded again, just as before, but now her knuckles were white. “You said it yourself, it makes no sense for your husband to be involved with this. Even if the divorce was a reason to wish you harm, it’s already in process – anything untoward happening to you would automatically reflect back to him. And to involve me would make even less sense. I know nothing about him, he knows nothing about me. No, I believe this is unconnected.” She sighed. “Which, to be honest, makes it all the more frightening.”

Emi swallowed hard. “I feel a bit sick.”

“You and me both. The letter you received, do you still have it?”

She shook her head. “I binned it. Lily, we have to tell the police about this.”

“Hm. I wonder how much credence they’d give it. They’ve already dismissed your incident as little more than a traffic violation, and without your letter we haven’t got much to tell them.”

“Why us, though?” Emi found herself glancing towards her front door. Had she locked it properly? “Why you and me?”

“You’re assuming it’s just the two of us.”

There was a very long silence. Then Emi put her leg back on and stood up. “Lily, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to call my mother.”




Emi lived within the confines of three rooms; the main room with its TV area and kitchenette, a bathroom and a single bedroom. The total combined floorspace of the apartment was probably, Emi guessed, somewhat smaller than Lily’s closet back in Scotland. But while the place was compact, it was clean and comfortable and, most important of all, it was hers, paid for by two part-time jobs and the modest sponsorship deals she had made after her first gold medal.

Maybe, she told herself at least once a day, she would look for somewhere larger when the divorce became final.

The telephone was next to her bed. There had been a time when Emi used to receive phone calls at all hours, sometimes very late at night, and although those days were long past she could never quite bring herself to move the phone back to the kitchenette. Besides, there was a clock built into it.

Emi closed the bedroom door behind her. She sat on the bed, moving a couple of soft toys to make space, and took the phone from its dock.

Her thumb hovered over the speed-dial button.

She watched the tiny bright digits of the clock, seconds counting up, dropping back to zero, increasing again. And again. The slow climb and then the fall, tumbling back to the start.

A child learns to walk. Learns to run. Becomes good at running, faster and stronger than the other children. Works hard, runs fast, shattering slam screech of twisted metal, blood and torn meat, shattered bone.

Back to zero.

A girl learns to walk on new legs. Learns to run again. Becomes good at running. Finds friends, finds success, works her way through school. Succeeding academically doesn’t come naturally to her, but her friends support her and help her and a young man she had been asked to befriend falls to his death from the school roof. There are investigations, media attention, pressure, disruption.

The school is gone. Her friends are gone. Back to zero.

How many times? Emi thought bitterly. How many ladders do I climb, only to find the snake waiting for me at the top? She had worked at her marriage, worked hard, and his affairs still brought her low. She had tried to rebuild her remaining friendships after leaving Yamaku, and events had conspired to demolish them.

She had built herself a life, and now someone was trying to take it away.

Too many zeros had gone by; Lily would be waiting for her. Emi pressed the button, held the phone to her ear, listened nervously to the dull electronic blurting of dial tones. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.

“Good morning, Ibarazaki residence.”

In spite of everything, she smiled. “Residence? Since when have you lived in a mansion?”

“Since I got caller display, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Listen, Mom-“

“How did last night go?”

“Huh? What? Oh…” Emi laughed nervously. “Ah, didn’t happen. Lily was jetlagged, we might try again tonight.”

“That’s a shame. Aren’t you training tomorrow, though?”

“I’ll be a good girl, don’t worry. Hey Mom, I can’t hang around, I just needed to ask you…”

She trailed off. How could she say this without sounding insane? Or worse, sending her mother into a panic.

“Emi? Is everything all right?”

“I think so. But… Look, has anything funny happened over the past couple of days?”

“Funny?”

“You know. Out of the ordinary. Anyone hanging around, strangers…”

“Oh Emi, is this to do with the divorce?”

“Maybe.”

Her mother sighed. “Well, there was that man this morning. That was a little strange.”

Suddenly the bedroom was rather cold. “What man?”

“Some young fellow. He called round early, said he was a friend of yours, but to be honest I didn’t think that was likely. I kept the door on the chain and sent him on his way. I thought he was some autograph hunter, to be honest.”

“What did he look like?”

“I didn’t really get a good look at him. He was wearing one of those horrible hood things.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Yes, he asked where he might find your friend Rin.”

Emi couldn’t remember the last time she had connected those last three words. “What… What did you…”

“I told him she was in Niiza. I’m sorry, Emi dear, was that wrong of me? I just wanted him to go away.”

“No, that’s fine Mom, you did the right thing. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, really.” She took a deep breath. “I’d better go. I’ll call you again later, okay?”

“Are you sure everything’s all right?”

“Yeah. But Mom? If that guy comes back, don’t answer the door. Just call the police. I think he might be bad news.”




“Jetlagged,” said Lily as she came back into the kitchenette. “Hm.”

Curse your super-hearing! “Don’t ‘hm’ me. I just don’t want her to worry, okay?”

“She will anyway. She’s your mother.”

“Damage limitation.” Emi sat down. “Listen, Lily… Have you got Rin’s number on your phone?”

A small, rather proud smile. “I’ve got everyone’s number.”

Emi narrowed her eyes. “Damn, you’re organised. I wanna be you when I grow up. Could you call her, please?”

“Of course, but-“

“If she sees it’s me she won’t answer.”

Lily nodded sadly. “Ah. I hadn’t realised things were that bad between you.”

“They’re not,” Emi muttered. “They’re worse.”

[Sadako]

3. Rise and Fall

There were just two canvasses in Rin Tezuka’s workspace.

One, part-finished, was on the floor in front of her painting chair. It was clamped to a small, custom-made stand, which in turn sat in the exact centre of a rubberised mat that protected the floor and stopped the canvass moving while she worked. The other was at her left shoulder, standing high on an old, paint-spattered wooden easel and blocking most of the hard winter light coming in through the window.

Rin had put it there as a kind of tease. No, an incentive. An incentive with a teasing element, as if the taller canvass was watching her work, waiting for her attentions, upright and patient and glittering with promise. It was blank, pristine white, lovingly primed with three coats of fine gesso. It would take paint like kisses.

“Shh,” she smiled at it. “You know the deal. First I pay the bills, then we’ll play.”

She had no words for the smaller canvass. It was a necessary thing, soulless commercial dreck bound for the cover of some video game or magazine, a wild-haired warrior thrusting his impossible sword upwards into a sky shot with lightning and monstrous cloud. The picture was largely figurative, which held no interest for Rin at all, but she’d managed to sneak some of her own imagery into the background. Her customers seemed to like it when she did that, as long as she was reasonably restrained and used one of her false names on the invoice.

Rin took a fine brush between the toes of her right foot, mixed a little white and blue, and sent reflected lightning arcing down the flanks of the hero’s sword. Purely for her own amusement she had calculated the likely weight of that weapon, while she’d been sketching it out; almost a fifth of a tonne. He’d need a block and tackle just to get it out its scabbard.

“Idiot,” she muttered.

It was okay to talk to herself in the apartment, as long as she made sure it didn’t become a habit. Rin had to be very careful about such things, which didn’t exactly come naturally to her. It was hard, a continual effort, but not impossible. In the past two years she had successfully become one of the most careful people she knew.

Not that she knew very many people at all. Even the doctor didn’t visit anymore.

Rin had learned her lessons. She carried a label on her, she knew that now; invisible but indelible, a black mark against the ledger of her lifespan. It would always be with her, and if she let down her guard at the wrong moment it would rise up and destroy her.

Being herself was fine, in private. Out in the world, she had to be someone very different.

Beyond the window, behind the white canvass, something moved. Probably a bird. Rin ignored it. She had a deadline, and no time to go looking at birds or clouds or butterflies.

No time to be Rin today.

The hero’s armour needed more definition. She began mixing a series of highlighting shades; reflex work, barely requiring thought at all. Instead she let herself think about the large canvass again.

It was a seducer, no doubt about that. Too attractive for its own damn good. Once she was alone with it, she told herself, hiding a small smile, she would have her way with it. It would be hers completely. Wicked things would happen.

The fine brush was loaded with base highlight. Rin eased her foot closer to the stand, cool rubber against her heel as she braced herself for control, and then she was jerking her leg back as the high-pitched, insistent chirping of the telephone hacked like a blade into her concentration.

As she turned to glare at it, wondering who could possibly be trying to call her, something slammed with unspeakable force into her head.

The world flared, a pulse of white-light agony and then the apartment was tipping around her, tilting, gravity curling up around her like a tentacle. Dimly, some small, still-rational part of her mind became aware that she was falling, tumbling sideways off the chair, but there was nothing she could do about it. The connection between intent and action was gone, utterly severed by that horrible impact.

The floor came up to meet her, battered into her right shoulder, her hip, the side of her face.

The air was full of strangeness, glittering shards and flying droplets of dark crimson. Rin rolled onto her back, vaguely noticing that the window was in the process of flying apart, that her pristine, untouched canvass was marred by a single, tiny hole dead at the centre.

Cold white light was coming in through that hole.

The room was fading, shadows spiralling in on her like the untidy strokes of a vast calligraphy brush. Rin watched the light fail, the room spilling up and away, falling glass shards and rain of blood vanishing slowly, fading into fog, then shadow, then darkness.

By then, there was almost no pain. A few regrets, but they were fleeting too. In the end, all she felt as the night closed in was a vague curiosity as to what would happen next.

But of course, what happened next was nothing at all.

[Mirage_GSM]

“Hm. I wonder how much credence they’d give it. They’ve already dismissed your incident as little more than a traffic violation, and without your letter we haven’t got much to tell them.”

Uh... One person gruesomely murdered, one of the two threatening letters and in light of those another attempted murder.
I'd say that is more than enough to provide credence for any police force out there.

But of course, what happened next was nothing at all.

But of course now they've got even more credence...

Good writing again. And good job making this very interesting

[Sharp-O]

HO-LY FUCK.

I don't know what hurts more, that someone is intent on killing the students of Yamaku or that the school itself is gone.

On the more positive end, I really like this characterisation for Rin. It's... charming and a little bit hot

Three parts in and you've got me hooked, Sadako! Keep up the astounding work!

[Sadako]

I’m so pleased that people seem to be enjoying reading this as much as I’m enjoying writing it!

But of course now they've got even more credence...

Obviously I don’t want to give anything away here. All I’ll say is that there is more than one way of looking at almost everything...

[Sadako]

On the more positive end, I really like this characterisation for Rin. It's... charming and a little bit hot

This makes me happy.

[Path]

I'm liking this so far. I get a thriller-noir vibe when I read the three chapters, and I don't know if that was your intent, but I can dig this story. Can't wait for the next chapter.

[Frosticle]

inb4 it's Kenji doing all of this, since he's getting revenge for Hisao.

Nah, but seriously, this is very well done. This story shows a lot of promise, and I'm looking forward to future updates

[Mirage_GSM]

Obviously I don’t want to give anything away here. All I’ll say is that there is more than one way of looking at almost everything...

Please don't stoop to the "police is composed of nothing but idiots who couldn't be bothered to cut short their doughnut-break even if dead bodies start appearing everywhere" trope. So far you've gone for a mostly realistic tone, and that would seriously impact the believability of yor story...

[Hesmiyu]

Obviously I don’t want to give anything away here. All I’ll say is that there is more than one way of looking at almost everything...

Please don't stoop to the "police is composed of nothing but idiots who couldn't be bothered to cut short their doughnut-break even if dead bodies start appearing everywhere" trope. So far you've gone for a mostly realistic tone, and that would seriously impact the believability of yor story...

I just assumed that that is Emi's and Lilly's perspective. The police force may actually be doing all they can but we don't see the behind-the-scenes .