I Can't Do It Alone

CHAPTER 8IGHT: LIKE SUICIDE

Like Suicide belongs to Seether.

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Premeditation will kill the trust

They'll never know if you fear me

With every second collecting dust

I feel so bloated and weary

'cause she belongs to heaven



She's comin' over like a suicide

And it's the same old trip

The same old trip as before

Another complicating suicide

And it's the same old trip

The same old trip as before

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            Isshin pulled up to the house as chaos ensued. He got out of his still running car in shock; there was a gurney rushing through the broken in front door, a second one following closely after. Oh god, no! In his head he was picturing a horrific scene of a breaking and entry while Masaki and Ichigo were sitting on the floor, happily playing patty-cake.

They were laughing and having the time of their lives in the bright room when the front door was forced open. A man with an M16 assault rifle entered the living room and began shouting profanities with a German accent as a dark cloud followed him into the room. The cloud stole all the cheer and laughter from the house before it flew into the man. Masaki, his fearless wife, was holding their crying son away from the barbarian that was holding them at gunpoint. He was shouting for her to give him something that she didn’t have. Sick of trying to shout over the wailing Ichigo, the Nazi began telling her to shut his up, Masaki tried to comply by cooing reassurances that everything was okay to him. Ichigo didn’t stop his loud sobbing in the slightest.

“Look lady, either you shut the kid up or I will! This is a stick-up; don’t make it a murder!” he threatened. That fiend! Masaki stood up and pulled out a sawed off shot gun, nobody threatened a Kurosaki!

“I’ll show you a murder, no one threatens my baby!” Both guns went off. The man fell to the floor, dead. Masaki dropped to the floor in rather sexy, Isshin thought, knight armor. Her shoulder had been clipped by the stray bit of ammo, but her love for her son protected her from all! The ambulance arrived to retrieve the body of the would-be assassin and insisted on nurturing to the brave strawberry blonde.

Unfortunately none of that happened. There was no monument being prepared to be built in the center of the city for his heroic wife and giant posters of her wouldn’t be made. Isshin was at a loss for what to do, he needed to figure out what was going on but he couldn’t just leave Karin and Yuzu unattended in the car. His pant leg was tugged on,

“You okay, sir?” it was a small boy; he looked to be around Ichigo’s age. He had neat black hair, large eyes, and white clothes. Isshin looked up at the man standing behind the child,

“Isshin,” the white haired, four-eyed man greeted.

“Ryuuken…” Ryuuken put his hand on his son’s shoulder and pulled him back from Isshin.

“Go. I’ll watch the girls; your wife and son need you right now.” Isshin nodded in thanks and rant to the house, ducking under the police lines before be was stopped,

“Sir! You can’t—oh, Isshin…” The tall police man was Tessai, he and Kisuke were close to each other when they were growing up.

“What happened?” Tessai hesitated, he wasn’t sure of how his childhood friend would handle it,

“I’m not permitted to—”

“Bullshit Tessai! What happened to my family?!” The tall man sighed; he really didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. But luck wasn’t on his side and he was the one who had to, apparently.

“There was an… accident… of sorts. Masaki and Ichigo…”

“Stop pussy-footing around, Tessai. Either you tell him or I will.”

“Kisuke, sir. What are you doing here?” Kisuke rubbed the back of his neck at his friend’s question.

“Getting questioned mostly. Look, why don’t you go do cop things, I’ll talk to my brother.” As Tessai nodded and walked away Kisuke sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes for the millionth time that day. His eyes were puffy and vacant-looking. He looked wiped out. Isshin took in his brother’s appearance with concern and suddenly wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know what happened anymore. Kisuke’s voice cracked,

“Masaki relapsed. She didn’t make it.” There was no use in trying to sugar-coat it, it would only hurt the brunette more in the end, and hurting him was the last thing that Kisuke wanted to do.

“What? Isshin was in a state of shock. As soon as she went off to rehab four years ago he searched the house and cleaned out any possible stashed she had. He’d bought new furniture, resealed holes in the walls, broke open and bought new safes, replaced electric appliances, did everything he could think of. It was the second time she’d done this to him, the second time she made him think she was clean, the second time she damaged their relationship—damaged their family.

“There was a fake bottom to one of the kitchen drawers. Everything was there Isshin, everything. Needles, spoons, a tourniquet. And Ichigo—”

“What happened to Ichigo?!” He tried to shove past the blonde, but his arms were grabbed and he was spun around,

“Ichigo is fine, for the most part. He had an attack but he’s fine, I think…”

“You think?” Isshin yelled, gathering the attention of a few policemen and bystanders. “Think what, Kisuke?” The teacher sighed, damn Masaki for throwing them all into this mess!

“He saw her doing it.” Isshin felt his heart stop; the world around him was going in slow motion as his heart beat echoed in his ear drums. No, how could Masaki do that to their first child, their baby boy. He hadn’t done anything to deserve seeing his mother do that. Isshin didn’t even realize that the ground was getting closer until his face landed in his brother’s chest. The light from the street lamps, ambulances and police cars seeped out of his line of vision. The sounds around him became increasingly fuzzy, as if someone were shoving cotton into his ears. He vaguely thought he heard someone calling his name, it might have been Kisuke, it probably was, but he wasn't sure of anything in that moment of time. The lights around him made their way farther away from him until everything faded to black in complete silence.

That was the last thing he remembered.

 

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