The scene opens with two teenage girls in somber clothing and lively voices, setting a series of offpitched whispers in the keys of G-flat locrian, B Major, and C sharp phyrgian low and razorsharp against the ears of a teenager. Surrounded by a sea of black, but drowning in his own ocean of personal misery. "I know... like... nobody knew. I, like, just, like... can’t believe it." "Look. That's his best friend. Do you think he knew?" "Who? The Akagawa kid? I dunno, doesn't he seem a bit weird to you though?" "What sort of bastard lets their friends just kill themselves on stuff like that...?" He twitches. They continue. "Shh, Yoshiko! That's not very nice! He'll hear you!" And suddenly there he is, next to the boy surrounded in a sea of black and drowning in his guilt, a white, smiling spectre, cigarette stuck cockily out of the corner of his lips. Daichi. "Daichi?" An E-flat, followed by a D-flat. Disbelief. The woman behind Daichi stares at the guilty young man with an obviously confused expression as Akagawa Shun turns and stares at his best friend. They're at a funeral, aren't they? "Hey man! Look uh...Shun. Do you think you can hit me up with some...” "Daichi! Keep your voice down -- this is a funeral. And Jesus, you almost killed yourself last time." The woman wonders, shouldn't he know? This teenager, talking in a funeral. Didn't he know? Daichi had been so good at almost killing himself that he had, in fact, succeeded. "No way, man – you know we’ve got things under control. That’s just a bunch of propaganda. Come on; I’ll take anything. I’m just stressed out and I need to unwind, and, fuck man…you know you can get that shit from your mom. Please, Shun? I’m in a really tight spot..." The woman smiles sweetly. "Akagawa-san...? Akagawa-san. AKAGAWA-SAN." Three tries for her to get the boy's attention away from Daichi, still pleading for anything the musician could give him. Her loud voice disrupts the funeral and makes the musician cringe, despite the fact that it’s caught his attention, ripped him away from his his delusion. “Daichi is dead.“ Oh. Right. Dead. A sad smile from the guilty party. Bleeding sanity all over the floor, slow and steady as the drip of cocaine. "We’re all dead." stats. job description :: assassin // bodyguard
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