[07/07] Shiretoko
Shiretoko
February 2012 - June 2013
Summary
Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun are two brothers who visit the estate of their father’s death.
A/N
[11.33, 1 January 2013] This is it!
PS There exists an actual SPR, I think. It’s based in London, and it might be called the Society for Psychic Research. I first heard of it in the EPIC anime Ghost Hunt, which features a similar (fictional) organization in Japan called Shibuya Psychic Research.
Disclaimer
The mastermind behind this plot derives no material profit from it. While several people, places, and events exist in reality, everything that follows should be digested with a healthy dose of suspicion.
Warning
I cannot write bromance or erotica to save my life.
Words 2,461
Shiretoko
For Arashi
Epilogue
The Uninvited
Ninomiya Kazunari calmly poured his visitor tea, one quiet summer afternoon. “Masaki - He took it upon himself to raise me on his own. I’m not sure I ever understood why, but he didn’t seem to like people getting closer to either of us. I always felt he wanted to preserve this estate as a place reserved for just us two.”
He raised his eyes, and exchanged the swiftest of smiles with Aiba Masaki, who sat across him on the low coffee table. Beside the latter, on the sofa, sat their silent guest.
Staring at the steaming English teacup in front of him, their orange-haired stranger seemed to consider his answer carefully. “If you don’t mind me asking, how is it that two boys managed to run these grounds on their own? How did you find the money for the upkeep, or for your daily expenses?”
Ninomiya quietly poured tea for himself. “When our parents died, Masaki was already fifteen years old. He had just graduated from middle school.” Disregarding the thick steam that was wafting out of his tea, he raised the embellished cup to his lips. “He took over things here. I finished middle school, and helped out.”
“But why did you hide the fact that you were brothers?”
He blinked at the question, bemused. “We never did. We just never offered the information unless someone asked.”
The visitor, never touching his tea, suddenly took something out of the travelling case at his side. It was a plain black folder, relatively thick and out of sorts, various sheets of paper sticking out of its sides. Everything about it indicated old, heavy research. Ninomiya and Aiba stared at it.
The carrot-haired man slowly opened his folder. “According to the information we’ve gathered, after the disappearance of Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun, the Suzuran Estate was left entirely with Sakurai’s mother. She, in turn, not having wanted to do anything with it, put it up for sale until several individuals bought the divided parts.”
He paused as he scanned the information before him. “Higashiyama Noriyuki, Ikuta Toma, Joshima Shigeru, and a certain Kamenashi Kazuya - each of them own parts of the estate now.”
“That’s correct.” Ninomiya nodded, staring at the wooden coffee table before him. “They don’t seem to have many plans for it though. We only have to make sure it doesn’t fall into further disrepair.”
“How do you manage these grounds on your own?”
“The masters have hired workers from the nearest village. You might have come across them in your research.” Ninomiya’s eyes fell on the black folder. “None of them live within the estate though. It’s understandable, of course, considering the rumors of this place being haunted.”
Aiba restlessly fidgeted with the hem of his flannel shirt.
Ninomiya slowly met his visitor’s eyes. “Ohno-san. Would you mind explaining again what type of organization you’re currently working for?”
Ohno Satoshi smiled. “I work for SPR. Storm Paranormal Research. We deal with cases of the unknown.” Resting his black folder on the low table, he suddenly added, “You’ll be pleased to hear the remains of Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun have been found earlier this week. The samples have been sent to Tokyo for further confirmation, but I can assure you it’s them.”
Aiba clenched his fists over his shirt, staring somberly at Ohno’s tea.
“If you’re working for a paranormal agency,” Ninomiya began, staring elsewhere as though he did not care for the remains of his former masters, “does that mean you’re psychic?”
“On a certain level, yes,” Ohno replied, his eyes half-closed and his lips slightly upturned in a sleepy smile. “There are many things I can and cannot do. But I’m positive I’m more capable of unearthing the truth behind this case than the detectives who’ve been here to visit you. No offense to the efforts police force, of course.”
He reached for his teacup, its steam finally having settled. “Which is why I was hoping you would tell me things you have not told the police. I think there may be plenty.”
Unfazed, Ninomiya softly leaned back against his plush seat and stared out the large windows that bordered an entire wall of the receiving room. In the woods, outside, the thick trees that bordered the mansion had started changing their leaves, the forest turning a brilliant shade of red so early in the year. He sighed. Summer had ended prematurely as well, that time, six years ago. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Why don’t you start with your family’s story? About how your parents and sister died, that night, all those years ago-” Ohno took a dainty sip of his tea, and then replaced his cup on its saucer with a soft clink. “This is excellent tea, by the way. Did you grow the leaves yourself?”
Aiba opened his mouth as if to speak, but settled for a wide, glowing smile.
Ninomiya raised two fingers to his lips, gaze distant. He seemed not to have heard the second question. “It would begin, I guess, with why my father murdered my mother and my sister. I was still in middle school then-”
“I’m sorry? Your father murdered your family?” For a moment, Ohno seemed to have woken from his perpetual pseudo-slumber. He frowned. “Our research says a team of burglars had robbed your house - this mansion. Your father and everyone else simply happened to be in their way-”
“That’s because Masaki hid it well. He’s good at that sort of thing. He even managed to hide it from me.” He gazed in his brother’s direction, and Aiba’s grin widened. Ninomiya then stared at Ohno with light, unblinking eyes. “One evening, my father came home from a trip in Utsunomiya - that’s the nearest town - and he suddenly took out his rifle and shot my mother and my sister. At least that’s what I hear-”
“So Aiba-san hid the truth because he didn’t want people to know it was your father who killed your family?” Ohno’s faced impressively maintained a calm expression, although he was visibly squeezing his knees, as though to draw strength. “He made it look as though it had been a stranger’s fault, to protect the both of you?”
“Probably, yes.” Ninomiya continued staring at Ohno with a glazed, empty gaze. “He probably didn’t want me to know what really happened - why my father suddenly acted like that.”
He shrugged. “In any case, I came home late that evening. When I arrived, they were all dead. My mother and my sister were in the living room. My father was in the attic-”
“Where Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun’s father was found dead-”
“He died because he went to the attic. Even though Masaki told him many times he shouldn’t.” Ninomiya was speaking impassively, as though he was merely retelling someone else’s story, a nightmare that had happened to a person he hadn’t known or cared for. “Anyway, that night, when I found Masaki, he was huddled in a blanket in his bedroom. He said he had come home from school to find them like that, too. So we came to the conclusion we had been robbed. My mother’s jewelry had gone missing-”
“Hang on. If both of you concluded your family had been killed by burglars - and Aiba-san never told you - how did you know it was your father who killed your mother and your sister?”
“My sister told me.” Ninomiya suddenly woke up from his torpor, and stared at the bewildered Ohno as though he had only realized he had been talking to someone. “My sister tells me everything.”
Drawing in a calming breath, Ohno licked his lips. “Of course. And - so that would mean - your father killed himself after killing your mother and sister?”
“No,” Ninomiya shook his head. “Masaki killed him. It was probably one of the reasons he hid what happened so meticulously. If he had been found out, he would have gone to jail.”
He suddenly slapped a hand on the arm of his chair, his eyebrows drawing close as though he had suddenly remembered something. “That, and the fact that he would find it difficult to explain to me the reason my father suddenly went on a rampage.”
Ohno suddenly crossed his arms. “And why did your father suddenly go on a rampage?” He suddenly smiled bitterly. “I won’t even ask how you came by this piece of information-”
“My father, you see, he-” Ninomiya licked his lips as he lightly scratched his head. Across him, Aiba had settled for staring at the coffee table, still playing with his shirt. “He went to the next town to pay his respects to Masaki’s late mother, and I don’t know how, but he somehow found out my mother - his wife - had cheated on him.”
He raised his head again, and stared at Ohno’s knee. “To make the long story short, he found out I wasn’t his son. Technically, I wasn’t a Ninomiya. My mother had cheated on him with someone else - right after she found out my father’s mistress was going to have Masaki. And Masaki, that idiot, he didn’t want his father to kill me, the way he had killed my mother and my sister. So he killed his father first.”
Ninomiya suddenly laughed. “When I think about it now, I think that may have been the reason he killed Sakurai and Matsumoto, too. If further suspicion had been cast on this estate, it would have been discovered that my father and he committed all those murders. Then I’d have found out that I wasn’t actually his brother. That he’d been lying all this time to spare me from the truth.”
He shrugged. “But I wouldn’t know for sure, you know. He hasn’t talked for six years. This is just what my sister and I think-”
“Ninomiya-san, Aiba Masaki’s been dead for six years.” Ohno fixed a piercing gaze at him. “He committed suicide in his bedroom after killing and burying Matsumoto Jun and Sakurai Sho.”
Ninomiya smiled.
“I know,” he replied in good humor, cheerfully nodding his head. “I know that.”
Aiba Masaki suddenly stood up, a finger still on the edge of his flannel shirt as he walked past his companions in the receiving room. With his back turned, Ninomiya could see a small hole at the back of his skull, his hair around that part sticky and mussed with dark blood.
Calmly, Ninomiya reached for his teacup. “In any case, Ohno-san, you said you were psychic. I assume you’re capable of seeing dead people?”
“Yes,” Ohno replied slowly, suddenly turning his head warily as Aiba disappeared into the hallway that led into the kitchen. But his eyes registered no sign of recognition. “Yes, I can.”
Kazunari smiled as Masaki raised a hand to reach for his sister’s outstretched fingers. Ninomiya Erisu had been shot to death like them all, her pale yellow sundress littered with sharp bullet holes. Staring at her brother, quietly looking back at her as he gently sipped his afternoon tea, she smiled as she slowly led Masaki into the kitchen. Kazunari could almost hear their footsteps creaking on the aging wood of the hallway.
“Ohno-san, you liar,” he accused, chuckling softly.
The strange visitor suddenly got to his feet. In the spacious receiving room, his short frame looked almost dwarfed by the high ceiling that hung over his and Kazunari’s heads. “Ninomiya-san, please let me - allow me to make a call. I’ll just be outside - trying to find a connection-”
“You’re not worried I might try to kill you?” Ninomiya asked simply, staring blankly up at his visitor from his soft, cushy seat. “After all I’ve told you, I’ll definitely be placed in prison, you know? That or the mental ward-”
“No, I don’t believe you’ll try to kill me.” Ohno returned his host’s stare, eyes oddly bright. “Because you’re tired of having to hide this secret, aren’t you? You want someone to save you, only you’re not sure how.”
Blinking, Ninomiya lowered his eyes to the teacup, resting it gently against its matching saucer. Needing no further reply, Ohno turned on his heel and walked out the nearest door to the grounds, a fresh breeze that smelled of crisp leaves and forest chill wafting into the room as he gently shut the door.
Suddenly, a deafening yell came from overhead. Ninomiya warily raised his eyes.
Nobody had set foot in the attic for almost sixteen years. Except the intrepid Old Master, of course - he had caused all this to happen. Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun need not have died…
But that was not his problem anymore.
Sighing, Ninomiya joined his hands over his stomach, luxuriously reclining on his seat. What would Ohno Satoshi do now, he wondered, as his eyes followed the short man watching him anxiously from the leaf-strewn back yard, a mobile phone pressed to his ear. If he was lucky, his family would get a decent sending off care of Ohno’s exorcist colleagues - yes, he could ask for that at least. They had all been buried next to each other, after all, and the purification rites would not be difficult to carry out.
Smiling, Ninomiya Kazunari slowly allowed his eyes to rest. There was still so much left in the estate to be done, before his fleeting summer came to an end.
Calmly, he took the time to sleep.
__
Shiretoko End.
__
A/N
Many thanks to the friends who have given me the support to finish this story, especially dekkawai. To all those who have been very kind to review and share their thoughts about Shiretoko, my heartfelt gratitude goes out to you! I hope I managed to bring this bizarre, lengthy, complicated FF to a satisfactory conclusion. Confusing, definitely, but I hope it was ‘satisfactory’.
To my roommate, L, who is neither a fan fiction writer nor an Arashian, I say thanks for helping me come up with various twists for this story. We threw random ideas at each other, giving comments about each, approving, disapproving. See, our having watched all those horror films is good for something other than keeping us wide awake at night.
To one of my best friends in the fandom and in real life, Shiretoko’s beta-reader M, who listened to each of the alternative endings and plotlines I considered, thank you. I’m so grateful I can’t even put my gratitude into words. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking me seriously. Thank you for always being there. [13.23, 2 January 2013]
Thank you, everyone! This is the end of my three-year struggle with this monster. I published it really late in the hope of improving it somehow, but whatever. We made it to the end! Thank you so much for deigning to share this experience with me. Until next time~ [10.08, 15 June 2013]
February 2012 - June 2013
Summary
Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun are two brothers who visit the estate of their father’s death.
A/N
[11.33, 1 January 2013] This is it!
PS There exists an actual SPR, I think. It’s based in London, and it might be called the Society for Psychic Research. I first heard of it in the EPIC anime Ghost Hunt, which features a similar (fictional) organization in Japan called Shibuya Psychic Research.
Disclaimer
The mastermind behind this plot derives no material profit from it. While several people, places, and events exist in reality, everything that follows should be digested with a healthy dose of suspicion.
Warning
I cannot write bromance or erotica to save my life.
Words 2,461
Shiretoko
For Arashi
Epilogue
The Uninvited
Ninomiya Kazunari calmly poured his visitor tea, one quiet summer afternoon. “Masaki - He took it upon himself to raise me on his own. I’m not sure I ever understood why, but he didn’t seem to like people getting closer to either of us. I always felt he wanted to preserve this estate as a place reserved for just us two.”
He raised his eyes, and exchanged the swiftest of smiles with Aiba Masaki, who sat across him on the low coffee table. Beside the latter, on the sofa, sat their silent guest.
Staring at the steaming English teacup in front of him, their orange-haired stranger seemed to consider his answer carefully. “If you don’t mind me asking, how is it that two boys managed to run these grounds on their own? How did you find the money for the upkeep, or for your daily expenses?”
Ninomiya quietly poured tea for himself. “When our parents died, Masaki was already fifteen years old. He had just graduated from middle school.” Disregarding the thick steam that was wafting out of his tea, he raised the embellished cup to his lips. “He took over things here. I finished middle school, and helped out.”
“But why did you hide the fact that you were brothers?”
He blinked at the question, bemused. “We never did. We just never offered the information unless someone asked.”
The visitor, never touching his tea, suddenly took something out of the travelling case at his side. It was a plain black folder, relatively thick and out of sorts, various sheets of paper sticking out of its sides. Everything about it indicated old, heavy research. Ninomiya and Aiba stared at it.
The carrot-haired man slowly opened his folder. “According to the information we’ve gathered, after the disappearance of Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun, the Suzuran Estate was left entirely with Sakurai’s mother. She, in turn, not having wanted to do anything with it, put it up for sale until several individuals bought the divided parts.”
He paused as he scanned the information before him. “Higashiyama Noriyuki, Ikuta Toma, Joshima Shigeru, and a certain Kamenashi Kazuya - each of them own parts of the estate now.”
“That’s correct.” Ninomiya nodded, staring at the wooden coffee table before him. “They don’t seem to have many plans for it though. We only have to make sure it doesn’t fall into further disrepair.”
“How do you manage these grounds on your own?”
“The masters have hired workers from the nearest village. You might have come across them in your research.” Ninomiya’s eyes fell on the black folder. “None of them live within the estate though. It’s understandable, of course, considering the rumors of this place being haunted.”
Aiba restlessly fidgeted with the hem of his flannel shirt.
Ninomiya slowly met his visitor’s eyes. “Ohno-san. Would you mind explaining again what type of organization you’re currently working for?”
Ohno Satoshi smiled. “I work for SPR. Storm Paranormal Research. We deal with cases of the unknown.” Resting his black folder on the low table, he suddenly added, “You’ll be pleased to hear the remains of Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun have been found earlier this week. The samples have been sent to Tokyo for further confirmation, but I can assure you it’s them.”
Aiba clenched his fists over his shirt, staring somberly at Ohno’s tea.
“If you’re working for a paranormal agency,” Ninomiya began, staring elsewhere as though he did not care for the remains of his former masters, “does that mean you’re psychic?”
“On a certain level, yes,” Ohno replied, his eyes half-closed and his lips slightly upturned in a sleepy smile. “There are many things I can and cannot do. But I’m positive I’m more capable of unearthing the truth behind this case than the detectives who’ve been here to visit you. No offense to the efforts police force, of course.”
He reached for his teacup, its steam finally having settled. “Which is why I was hoping you would tell me things you have not told the police. I think there may be plenty.”
Unfazed, Ninomiya softly leaned back against his plush seat and stared out the large windows that bordered an entire wall of the receiving room. In the woods, outside, the thick trees that bordered the mansion had started changing their leaves, the forest turning a brilliant shade of red so early in the year. He sighed. Summer had ended prematurely as well, that time, six years ago. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Why don’t you start with your family’s story? About how your parents and sister died, that night, all those years ago-” Ohno took a dainty sip of his tea, and then replaced his cup on its saucer with a soft clink. “This is excellent tea, by the way. Did you grow the leaves yourself?”
Aiba opened his mouth as if to speak, but settled for a wide, glowing smile.
Ninomiya raised two fingers to his lips, gaze distant. He seemed not to have heard the second question. “It would begin, I guess, with why my father murdered my mother and my sister. I was still in middle school then-”
“I’m sorry? Your father murdered your family?” For a moment, Ohno seemed to have woken from his perpetual pseudo-slumber. He frowned. “Our research says a team of burglars had robbed your house - this mansion. Your father and everyone else simply happened to be in their way-”
“That’s because Masaki hid it well. He’s good at that sort of thing. He even managed to hide it from me.” He gazed in his brother’s direction, and Aiba’s grin widened. Ninomiya then stared at Ohno with light, unblinking eyes. “One evening, my father came home from a trip in Utsunomiya - that’s the nearest town - and he suddenly took out his rifle and shot my mother and my sister. At least that’s what I hear-”
“So Aiba-san hid the truth because he didn’t want people to know it was your father who killed your family?” Ohno’s faced impressively maintained a calm expression, although he was visibly squeezing his knees, as though to draw strength. “He made it look as though it had been a stranger’s fault, to protect the both of you?”
“Probably, yes.” Ninomiya continued staring at Ohno with a glazed, empty gaze. “He probably didn’t want me to know what really happened - why my father suddenly acted like that.”
He shrugged. “In any case, I came home late that evening. When I arrived, they were all dead. My mother and my sister were in the living room. My father was in the attic-”
“Where Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun’s father was found dead-”
“He died because he went to the attic. Even though Masaki told him many times he shouldn’t.” Ninomiya was speaking impassively, as though he was merely retelling someone else’s story, a nightmare that had happened to a person he hadn’t known or cared for. “Anyway, that night, when I found Masaki, he was huddled in a blanket in his bedroom. He said he had come home from school to find them like that, too. So we came to the conclusion we had been robbed. My mother’s jewelry had gone missing-”
“Hang on. If both of you concluded your family had been killed by burglars - and Aiba-san never told you - how did you know it was your father who killed your mother and your sister?”
“My sister told me.” Ninomiya suddenly woke up from his torpor, and stared at the bewildered Ohno as though he had only realized he had been talking to someone. “My sister tells me everything.”
Drawing in a calming breath, Ohno licked his lips. “Of course. And - so that would mean - your father killed himself after killing your mother and sister?”
“No,” Ninomiya shook his head. “Masaki killed him. It was probably one of the reasons he hid what happened so meticulously. If he had been found out, he would have gone to jail.”
He suddenly slapped a hand on the arm of his chair, his eyebrows drawing close as though he had suddenly remembered something. “That, and the fact that he would find it difficult to explain to me the reason my father suddenly went on a rampage.”
Ohno suddenly crossed his arms. “And why did your father suddenly go on a rampage?” He suddenly smiled bitterly. “I won’t even ask how you came by this piece of information-”
“My father, you see, he-” Ninomiya licked his lips as he lightly scratched his head. Across him, Aiba had settled for staring at the coffee table, still playing with his shirt. “He went to the next town to pay his respects to Masaki’s late mother, and I don’t know how, but he somehow found out my mother - his wife - had cheated on him.”
He raised his head again, and stared at Ohno’s knee. “To make the long story short, he found out I wasn’t his son. Technically, I wasn’t a Ninomiya. My mother had cheated on him with someone else - right after she found out my father’s mistress was going to have Masaki. And Masaki, that idiot, he didn’t want his father to kill me, the way he had killed my mother and my sister. So he killed his father first.”
Ninomiya suddenly laughed. “When I think about it now, I think that may have been the reason he killed Sakurai and Matsumoto, too. If further suspicion had been cast on this estate, it would have been discovered that my father and he committed all those murders. Then I’d have found out that I wasn’t actually his brother. That he’d been lying all this time to spare me from the truth.”
He shrugged. “But I wouldn’t know for sure, you know. He hasn’t talked for six years. This is just what my sister and I think-”
“Ninomiya-san, Aiba Masaki’s been dead for six years.” Ohno fixed a piercing gaze at him. “He committed suicide in his bedroom after killing and burying Matsumoto Jun and Sakurai Sho.”
Ninomiya smiled.
“I know,” he replied in good humor, cheerfully nodding his head. “I know that.”
Aiba Masaki suddenly stood up, a finger still on the edge of his flannel shirt as he walked past his companions in the receiving room. With his back turned, Ninomiya could see a small hole at the back of his skull, his hair around that part sticky and mussed with dark blood.
Calmly, Ninomiya reached for his teacup. “In any case, Ohno-san, you said you were psychic. I assume you’re capable of seeing dead people?”
“Yes,” Ohno replied slowly, suddenly turning his head warily as Aiba disappeared into the hallway that led into the kitchen. But his eyes registered no sign of recognition. “Yes, I can.”
Kazunari smiled as Masaki raised a hand to reach for his sister’s outstretched fingers. Ninomiya Erisu had been shot to death like them all, her pale yellow sundress littered with sharp bullet holes. Staring at her brother, quietly looking back at her as he gently sipped his afternoon tea, she smiled as she slowly led Masaki into the kitchen. Kazunari could almost hear their footsteps creaking on the aging wood of the hallway.
“Ohno-san, you liar,” he accused, chuckling softly.
The strange visitor suddenly got to his feet. In the spacious receiving room, his short frame looked almost dwarfed by the high ceiling that hung over his and Kazunari’s heads. “Ninomiya-san, please let me - allow me to make a call. I’ll just be outside - trying to find a connection-”
“You’re not worried I might try to kill you?” Ninomiya asked simply, staring blankly up at his visitor from his soft, cushy seat. “After all I’ve told you, I’ll definitely be placed in prison, you know? That or the mental ward-”
“No, I don’t believe you’ll try to kill me.” Ohno returned his host’s stare, eyes oddly bright. “Because you’re tired of having to hide this secret, aren’t you? You want someone to save you, only you’re not sure how.”
Blinking, Ninomiya lowered his eyes to the teacup, resting it gently against its matching saucer. Needing no further reply, Ohno turned on his heel and walked out the nearest door to the grounds, a fresh breeze that smelled of crisp leaves and forest chill wafting into the room as he gently shut the door.
Suddenly, a deafening yell came from overhead. Ninomiya warily raised his eyes.
Nobody had set foot in the attic for almost sixteen years. Except the intrepid Old Master, of course - he had caused all this to happen. Sakurai Sho and Matsumoto Jun need not have died…
But that was not his problem anymore.
Sighing, Ninomiya joined his hands over his stomach, luxuriously reclining on his seat. What would Ohno Satoshi do now, he wondered, as his eyes followed the short man watching him anxiously from the leaf-strewn back yard, a mobile phone pressed to his ear. If he was lucky, his family would get a decent sending off care of Ohno’s exorcist colleagues - yes, he could ask for that at least. They had all been buried next to each other, after all, and the purification rites would not be difficult to carry out.
Smiling, Ninomiya Kazunari slowly allowed his eyes to rest. There was still so much left in the estate to be done, before his fleeting summer came to an end.
Calmly, he took the time to sleep.
__
Shiretoko End.
__
A/N
Many thanks to the friends who have given me the support to finish this story, especially dekkawai. To all those who have been very kind to review and share their thoughts about Shiretoko, my heartfelt gratitude goes out to you! I hope I managed to bring this bizarre, lengthy, complicated FF to a satisfactory conclusion. Confusing, definitely, but I hope it was ‘satisfactory’.
To my roommate, L, who is neither a fan fiction writer nor an Arashian, I say thanks for helping me come up with various twists for this story. We threw random ideas at each other, giving comments about each, approving, disapproving. See, our having watched all those horror films is good for something other than keeping us wide awake at night.
To one of my best friends in the fandom and in real life, Shiretoko’s beta-reader M, who listened to each of the alternative endings and plotlines I considered, thank you. I’m so grateful I can’t even put my gratitude into words. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking me seriously. Thank you for always being there. [13.23, 2 January 2013]
Thank you, everyone! This is the end of my three-year struggle with this monster. I published it really late in the hope of improving it somehow, but whatever. We made it to the end! Thank you so much for deigning to share this experience with me. Until next time~ [10.08, 15 June 2013]