By Katelyn

Taichi Kamiya was never much of a sleuth – but with the disappearance of Yamato he had set about figuring everything he could to discover the lost boy. Hikari was puzzled by Taichi’s new behavior; likewise him to her, he couldn’t comprehend her oblivion to Yamato’s disappearance. Though more than several things linked Hikari to Yamato’s vanishing, Taichi was hesitant to convict her, which was the only thing that saved Hikari from police interrogation; they were suspicious of her as well.

Hikari knew that her crime had not gone as well as she had planned, but things were still going smoothly enough. One thing she regretted was leaving the knife – but she couldn’t bring it home, her fingerprints were all over it and the police had already searched her house twice. She could have, of course, brought it back to it’s original owner, but that would have meant a long trip coupled with having to see him again, the man who had gotten her into all of this.

She could turn him in, which would avert suspicions from her, but he was an experienced criminal as well as a child genius, and there was little to no evidence to convict him.

Hikari took part in Taichi’s searches and desperate phone calls, but her heart was never in it. Half the time she would say she was making phone calls to find Yamato, and really order a pizza or prank-call Takeru. She knew that Taichi thought she might have something to do with the crime, so she did everything she could to be ‘helpful’ in finding him.

It was quite brilliant, really. Hikari and her master had planned the scheme out so well that Hikari even found ways to justify it in her mind. It wasn’t over, of course; murdering Yamato had only been the beginning. The next step, naturally, had been to frame someone else.

That was where Hikari had messed up. She’d left too much evidence to convict herself. She knew it could be a fatal mistake, but she’d already set about correcting it. It would be hard work – it would take time and delicacy and much help from the man with the icy eyes who had taught her this life – but she was certain that she could accomplish it.

Hikari was going to frame Taichi.

*

News of Yamato’s murder (police had declared him legally dead after searching for him for three days with no luck), which had now come to be known as the Twenty-Nine Degree Murder due to the temperature in Odaiba at the time, had reached America. The good old US of A didn’t care a whole lot about one insignificant murder in Japan, but one pink-haired teenager in New York sure gave a damn.

"It has to be another Yamato Ishida," Mimi told herself, upon hearing the news of his death. "There has to be more than one Yamato Ishida in Japan."

She knew, of course, that it was the Yamato Ishida, lead singer of the Teenage Wolves, local hottie bad-boy. She’d cried for nearly a week straight over his death and phoned Taichi and Sora almost every night to keep close tabs on any leads that might suggest Yamato was still alive.

There were none, of course.

Mimi didn’t worry much about any murderers coming after her in America, so she wasn’t extra careful or alert. In fact, when she received news that Ken Ichijouji was coming to America for the winter holidays she was overjoyed.

He was staying in Massachusetts, but that wasn’t far from New York – a three-hour drive, to be precise. He had phoned Mimi a few nights before confirming that he knew where her house so he could visit if he wanted. Mimi had given him exact directions, wanting a visit from the boy desperately. Her heart ached for Yamato, but Ken would have to do.

The day that Ken was scheduled to arrive in America, Mimi’s father suffered a massive heart attack. Mimi found it hard to see this as a coincidence, but there was no way to convict anyone of causing a heart attack – according to doctors, it was "medically impossible." She spent the day in the hospital with her dad, and was told that he would recover completely.

Mimi’s mother was away on a business trip, so Mimi, who was eighteen, had the house to herself for the night. She phoned Ken’s hotel but was told that no one by the name Ichijouji was staying there, which puzzled her greatly.

Nevertheless, Mimi didn’t let it bother her. Perhaps the hotel had been full and the Ichijoujis had to stay somewhere else; there were a million possibilities. She slept easy, completely worry-free.

She awoke much later that night to a tapping noise. Her senses immediately shot into hyper-alert mode and adrenaline pumped through her body. She lay in bed, eyes wide open, unmoving.

Another tapping noise caused her eyes to fly to the window, but no one was there. She was sure the sound of her heart pounding was enough to wake anyone. A tinkling noise caught her attention. Mimi looked over at the window again, and a golden locket with a picture of all eight Digidestined, one of her favorite keepsakes, had fallen from the desk to the floor. "Odd…" she said.

She threw the covers off and climbed out of bed, kneeling down on the floor to examine the locket. She flipped it open. Along with her picture there was an ordinary piece of notebook paper, with one word scrawled on it:

KAISER

Suddenly, the window imploded, and glass shattered everywhere. Mimi screamed, but of course, there was no one to hear her. She gripped the locket tightly in her hand.

The man who had broken into her house saw her on the floor with the locket, and his icy eyes seemed almost to glow with hunger for it. She clutched it with a deathgrip in her left hand. Angrily, he ground his booted heel into her fist. She screamed louder, still no one heard; muscles and tendons tore, blood stained her carpet.

But still she held. Eventually, her assassin grew tired of fighting and reached into his pocket, bringing out a long, shining pistol. Mimi screamed again, but it was cut short.

No one heard the gunshot nor saw the broken window.

News was later received that Mimi’s father had mysteriously died abruptly at the hospital just hours after apparently stabilizing completely.

And so the Twenty-Nine Degree Murders achieved international fame.

*

*

In northern Odaiba, there is a small river that feeds into a warm, mossy pond. It is shaded by a ravine of weeping willow trees which freeze over into mystical ice sculptures in the winter. The water in the pond and river is so warm that it does not completely freeze, even in the winter, and it is temperate enough to sustain life. Ducks nest in the reeds that surround it, herons feed on the fish that swim in it, and in the summer boys come to go skinny-dipping and play Tarzan.

It was here that Yamato lay sleeping in the snowdrift, his tattered and blood-soaked clothes wrapped around his pale, almost bluish, body. The gash on his neck had clotted and frozen over into a reddish blotch, and bruises and scratches covered his entire body from trekking through the woods for so long. He was horribly gaunt and ghost-like, thin and bony and malnourished.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open to join the world of the living and he wiped the snow from his eyelashes. He blinked several times to clear the ice from his vision, and coughed sickly. He crawled stiffly to the pond and dipped his head in like a great horse and drank his fill. He pulled back and shook himself, sniffling. He had grown somewhat used to the cold by now, though he was frail and dying; he knew that they had given up searching for him, but he didn’t care. He knew his death was very near, and there was only one thing he wished he’d know. Had Hikari made it home safe? She haunted him in his dreams, her beautiful face looming up over him only to morph into a horrid monster and draw the knife across his trachea time and time again. He would wake cold and shivering and with tears frozen on his cheeks.

What a way to die…

*

Perhaps the only person who had not given up on the search for Yamato was Taichi. Desperate and panicked with love – a love that Hikari knew and understood, as it matched her own love for Takeru and her master – he refused to believe that the boy he had grown so close to was gone forever.

Ken Ichijouji had assured Taichi several times that there was nothing he could do to bring his late lover back. Taichi didn’t want to believe Ken; in fact, he was starting to suspect the boy was in on something.

Ken could see Taichi’s suspicions and took extra care to act inconspicuous. If Hikari had failed to kill him – though she had assured him time and time again that Yamato was gone and dead as a doornail – both killers were in deep trouble.

Ken was experienced enough in the assassination business to know that the one step to staying anonymous was to not let any witnesses escape alive. If Yamato was not dead, he could prove to be a serious hitch in their plan much later on.

Hikari did not know exactly what Ken’s master plan was; in fact, all she knew was that one look into those icy eyes and dragged her down into this forever. She had to obey him now – she loved him in a way she could not explain – she didn’t want to, but there was something about him that had pulled on her heartstrings. He was a mass-murderer hiding from police forces, Hikari was the sweet and innocent child of the light – the whole angel and fallen angel motif certainly made the irony all the more bitter.

One night, when Taichi had finished placing phone calls to various missing person shelters and bureaus, Ken asked, "Would you like to me to go out and search for Yamato myself?"

Taichi, who had come down with a bad cold, was not allowed outside; Ken could be his only hope to discovering Yamato. "Yeah…yeah, I’d like that. You don’t mind, do you?"

"No, it’s no trouble at all. I’ll just go for a walk. You have a flashlight?"

"Hai." Taichi rummaged around in his rucksack and took out a long flashlight. "This should do. If you find any clues…just come home, okay?"

"Okay." Ken took the flashlight in his hand and vanished out the door.

The night air was cold and fresh; a new snow had just fallen. Ken’s boots crunched on the icy road and he switched on the flashlight, hoping to find a sign that Yamato was indeed "dead as a doornail." His hand instinctively wandered to the pistol he had concealed in his jacket pocket, the same pistol he had used to kill Mimi over the winter hols; and then to his cell phone, so that he could call Hikari (or Taichi) should need arise.

After fifteen minutes of utter winter silence broken only by Ken’s humming of ‘God Save the Queen’, he finally stumbled upon a half-hidden brook the fed into a little pond, unfrozen and unnaturally warm. He shone the flashlight up and down the bank, his heart pounding against his breastbone. Something was not right with this river…

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he took a tentative step forward. He dropped the flashlight and nearly screamed as his foot connected with something warm and soft. His heart nearly broke his ribs by pounding so hard, but he discovered that it was naught but a piece of cloth, stained with blood.

He picked up the flashlight, but the batteries had fallen out. Wonderful. He hunted around on the snow, looking for them, with no luck. He sighed and chucked the flashlight across the river. He took a few more steps before stopping dead as he nearly trod on the sleeping Yamato.

"Is he dead?" he whispered to no one.

Yamato moaned slightly, his eyes moving under their closed eyelids. Ken blew out through his cheeks. "Great. I’ll have to kill him myself."

It was incredibly dark, so Ken could barely see Yamato at all, but he reached back and took the pistol from his pocket, removing the safety and cocking it. His hand shook violently, and he wondered why. He'd killed tons of times before, innocent people, and he hand no qualms about that. Still, he had to do this. Yamato knew too much.

He steadied his hand, on which sweat was now beginning to bead. He could feel his grip loosening on the trigger. The gun clacked as his hand trembled, and he placed his other hand over it to keep it still. He pressed the pistol to the wound on Yamato’s throat.

At the touch of the cold metal, the other boy’s eyes flew open. Ken, surprised and scared half-to-death, pulled the trigger without thinking and shot Yamato right through the throat. The boy stiffened, and then vomited blood. He fell over with a last dying convulsion, and lay still.

Ken stared in shock and uncertainty. "Jesus," he whispered. He fingered the gun, putting the safety back on. His heart pounded up into his throat. He took a last glance at Yamato – if not for the blood, the boy could have been sleeping.

But Yamato was dead now, at least he was certain. He covered the body with snow, pocketed the pistol, and ran the rest of the way back to the Kamiya’s.

He told Taichi that he had no luck finding Yamato.

*

At the Takaishi’s, Takeru was becoming increasingly more suspicious of Hikari. Unlike Taichi, who was blind to all of Hikari’s faults, Takeru saw the things that she did and thought that she seemed rather distant and not concerned with the Twenty-Nine Degree Murders.

Wanting to reassure himself that his best friend and hopefully future girlfriend had not killed his brother in cold blood, he phoned her late one night.

"Hikari? I was just wondering…well…any new leads in the Twenty-Nine Degree Murders?" he asked.

"Iie," she said. "We haven’t seen anything." A muffled sob. "Did you hear? Mimi was killed too."

"I heard," he confirmed. Why did her cries sound so fake? "’Kari-chan, is there something you are not telling me?"

She seemed genuinely taken aback. "What? Takeru-sempai, how could you even suggest such a thing? I would not play any part in harming Yamato or Mimi!"

"Well…" he was lost for excuses. "Gomen nasai, Hikari. Ja ne."

"Ja ne." She picked up her notepad, which already had two words on it, "Yamato" and "Mimi", and scrawled,

"TAKERU"

*

*

It took a lot of hard work, but eventually Hikari put together enough "conclusive" evidence to convict Taichi. She took Taichi's dinner knife and slit her arm to get blood on it, then she placed it strategically under his bed. She took his handkerchief and left it out near the snowdrift where the blood had been found. While he slept, she plucked single hairs from his head and left the around the crime scene, as well as getting him to touch as many suspicious things as possible.

When she was sure that everything was in place, she called the police and told them that she suspected Taichi of Yamato's murder. The story, of course, was followed eagerly by reporters.

Taichi was as surprised as anyone when a uniformed policeman appeared at the door, requesting to search his bedroom. Taichi agreed; he was sure there was nothing in his room that would incriminate him. So he was just as astonished at the policeman when they discovered the bloodied knife under his bed.

"What is this?" the officer demanded.

"I-I don't kn-know, sir," Taichi stuttered. "Honestly, i-it must be H-hi-hikari's or something..."

The policeman took out a brush and began to dust the knife. Of course, as it was his dinner knife, Taichi's fingerprints were all over it. "This calls for a trial," he said.

Taichi looked faint. Hikari put on an innocent air and said, "It can't be Taichi, sir. He'd never murder anyone."

The policeman looked at her. "I'm sorry, but we can't go against evidence. In fact, we even found some of his hair at the crime scene, and a good amount of matching fingerprints around there. And even a cloth that was identified as his."

Taichi was lost for words. He was flushed and crying. "I didn't do it," he pleaded.

"That's what they all say," the officer said.

Hikari could not quite hide a smile. Perfect...

*

As Hikari ensured, the Kamiyas lost their trial and Taichi was sentenced to life in jail without parole. He sobbed endlessly for what seemed like forever, and Hikari put on a very believable act of being sad.

One night, on Taichi's last night at home, Hikari pushed open his door. Taichi raised his head sadly, his eyes red from crying. Hikari looked as though she had been crying as well - rubbing enough alcohol into her eyes had done nicely for tears. "What do you want, Midget?" he asked good-naturedly.

"Just wanted to say bye," Hikari said, wiping her eyes. Damn, that alcohol stung. "So...bye, 'nii-chan."

"Go away," Taichi said. Hikari looked as though she might burst into tears (the alcohol was really starting to irritate her eyes). He smiled. "I'm sorry, 'Kari. I'll miss you so much..." tears traced new tracks down his soaking cheeks. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Hikari said, bowing, and she ducked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Taichi started at the dark wood for a long while. Finally, he threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. "I can't live without you, Yamato," he whispered. He got up and walked to the bathroom, taking his razor from the sink.

He turned it over, watching the bathroom light glint across its blade. He coughed. His heart beat hard against his breastbone. He turned that hot water on - he was told that would ease the pain.

First, however, he took a piece of notebook paper and grabbed a pencil. He wrote:

'Dear Mum, Dad, and Hikari -

None of this is your fault. I just can't go on without Yamato. I need him with me. My heart aches. And life in jail - you know I didn't do this. I would rather die than live imprisoned. I will miss you all. I love you.

From Taichi, with love'

And then he picked up the razor and put his wrist under the hot water. He drew the blade across it and winced slightly as the blood began to flow. He switched the razor to his other hand and slit that wrist too. He could feel himself growing lightheaded, but he felt no pain. In fact, it felt kind of nice...

He fell down, lifeless, with a smile on his face. The razor clattered the floor.

*

Hikari, her ear pressed against the door, heard Taichi collapse. She knew instantly that he had killed himself - it horrified her. She could kill Yamato or Mimi or Takeru but Taichi...Taichi was in her family! It wasn't that she hadn't been expecting it, she just didn't want to except it.

She threw open the door. "Taichi?" she rasped. No answer, of course. She hurried to the bathroom and where Taichi lay in a rapidly expanding pool of blood. Both of his wrists were slit, yet a smile graced his beautiful face.

Feeling real tears come to her eyes, she turned off the hot water and retrieved the bloodied razor from the floor. She quickly hid it in a cranny of the shower. She didn't want it to look like suicide. If they thought someone else had killed him, they might continue the search. She and Ken needed the publicity. They thrived off it. And as long as the "killer" was alive, Ken and Hikari could continue their homicides.

But no, Hikari realized, to keep it from looking like suicide, she must make it look like a murder. She retrieved the razor and hesitantly placed the blade against his throat. Swallowing, she sliced a long gash across his trachea. She took the razor and made a series of cuts along his entire body, and then gouged out both his eyes. Satisfied but not pleased with her work, she washed her fingerprints off the razor and placed it back on the shelf.

As she turned to leave, a piece of paper caught her eye. She picked it up and read it over. Taichi's goodbye. No one could see that either.

She shredded it into a bunch of tiny pieces and ran them under the water until they were nothing but mush.

*

Several days later, Takeru talked to Ken about his suspicions about Hikari. Ken, surprised at the boy's intuition and slightly worried for their safety, called Hikari immediately.

"Hullo, 'Kari?"

"Ken?" She seemed surprised to be hearing from him.

"I am calling about Takeru."

The memories of Takeru's accusations earlier came flooding back. Hikari swallowed and quelled them. She loved Takeru desperately...she knew she had to, but she didn't want to kill him.

"I know," she said, "He knows too much. He suspects too much. We have to eliminate him."

Ken cleared his throat on the other end of line. "What has he told you?"

She thought. "He thinks I am in on Yamato's murder. Possibly Mimi's too. And he is doubly suspicious now that my brother has..." she choked, "...been murdered."

"He killed himself, but you made it look like homicide." It was more a statement that a question.

"How did you know?"

"Assassin's intuition. Now, tell me, do you think the police will catch on?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Do they suspect you?"

"Dunno. Don't think so."

He began to pelt her with questions. "Do they have any new suspects? What about Koushirou? Are there any more leads in Yamato's death?"

"I DON'T KNOW! God, what do I look like, the Scotland Yard?"

"I...I'm sorry, Hikari. It's just, Takeru's knowledge is starting to bother me. He has to be eliminated - he could prove to be a major problem later."

"Yeah. I know." She sighed. "It's just..."

"Just what?" He sounded really concerned. "You love him more than you love me?"

"NO!" Hikari massaged her temples. "I could not love anyone more than I love you, Ken-kun. It's just that I do love him, and it is not the kind of forced love we share."

Ken grunted. "Whatever. Just take care of him."

"I will."

She hung up. Oh God. How would she ever kill Takeru? She sat for a minute, contemplating, until it came to her. She would take him on a date...and kill him. It was about the cruelest death she could think of for the poor boy. She wished it could be different but Ken always came first. Takeru was merely a teenage infatuation. He meant nothing to her in the long run.

She phoned him and left a message on his machine, inviting him to come with her to Odaiba Inn, one of the fanciest restaurants in town.

He'd never be able to resist.

*

*

Miracles Gone Wrong