Chapter Twelve: My Dear Friends:
At ten am, everyone looked up when they heard footsteps. Becky and the girls stood in the doorway. Tatsumi squinted at her for a better look.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Where’s Anna?” she asked. Tatsumi looked at her closer.
“Why?” he asked. Willow lifted her head.
“Becky!” she said. “You made it!” That statement triggered something in Tatsumi’s brain.
/These are Anna’s American friends!/, he thought. Becky turned behind her to the other girls.
“I found the room, girls!” she yelled. Tatsumi cut Willow a heated glare as the others walked into the room. She trembled as she gave him a little shrug.
“Willow, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked through clenched teeth. The color drained from her face.
“Now,” the secretary hissed. The woman swallowed hard. She quietly got up and followed him out the door.
“What are they doing here?!?” Tatsumi barked at her on the roof.
“I called them here!” Willow whimpered.
“Why?!?” he snapped. She fidgeted a bit at first. Tatsumi’s mood burned faster.
“Tell me why!” he shouted. Willow shut her eyes.
“They are her friends!” she yelled. “They deserve to know what happened to her!”
“But, she’s supposed to be dead by her uncle’s hand, remember?!?” the kagetsukai snapped. “Or did that little fact slip your mind?!?”
“They had to know!” she whimpered.
“Don’t you realize you just made things worse by doing so?!?” he yelled. The woman’s voice disappeared in murmurs. Tatsumi took a heavy breath.
“I’ll deal with you later,” he grumbled. He turned to the door.
“They have to go ASAP, understand?” Tatsumi asked. Willow swallowed and nodded.
“Good,” the secretary replied. “Come along and hand over your phone.” The slender redhead’s face paled at the last command.
“What?!?” she cried. Tatsumi glanced over at her.
“Is there a problem?” he asked. Willow stiffened up fast. Her dark berry sweater and jeans had more color than her complexion now.
“No!” she yelped in a small voice. She guiltily reached into her pocket and held out her phone to him as she walked over. Tatsumi grabbed it and stashed it into his jacket. Without any words, the pair headed back into the hospital out of the morning cold.
“Be easy on her, Tatsumi. She’s just worried about Anna as much as we all are.”
Back in Anna’s room, Hisoka and Watari looked at all of Anna’s American friends. The girls whispered to each other about guesses to what happened to their friend.
“What do we do with them?” Hisoka whispered to Watari. The blonde scientist shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m looking up about them right now,” he said.
“Huh?” the boy asked. Watari turned his laptop to him. Hisoka looked on with him. He raised an eyebrow at the screen.
“Their Facebook profiles?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Watari replied. “I hacked into Anna’s account and got plenty of information.” First profile.
“Becky Campbell. Leader of the group and native of San Diego, California. Total people-person and loves to talk!” Next profile.
“We already met Henry Walker. So, moving on…” Next profile.
“Of course, we already met Willow Mayer. Crazy girl from Sacramento, California. Got her B.S. in Modern Art.” Next profile.
“And here we have…”
“Oi!” they heard a woman yell at them. The boys quickly looked up. A woman with wavy dirt blonde hair to her waist gave them a hawk-like look in her eyes.
“If you want to get to know us so badly,” she barked. “Talk to us; don’t look us up on Facebook!”
“Okay,” Watari said. “What are your names?” The blonde drew back.
“Angie Waters,” she said. “I’m Italian-American and this is my daughter, Sarah.” She shoved forward a little girl about Yoko-chan’s age with baby blonde hair.
“Hi…” Sarah mumbled as she gave a little wave.
“Gillian Gilbert,” a woman with a Pink Floyd t-shirt said. “I got my B.S. in music history and I’m a huge Pink Floyd fan.”
“Clare Ainsworth,” a skinny blonde replied. “Going into grad school for my masters at long last. Type-one diabetic and I hate it.”
“Lisa Meriwether,” a purple-haired woman said. “Art teacher assistant for a kindergarten class in San Diego. Nice to meet you.”
“Edith Carpenter,” a short-haired brunette said. “Married to a fine cop for Los Angles. Pleased to meet you.”
“Amy McCarthy,” a Chinese-American woman said. “I’m a DJ in Los Angles. How’s it hanging?” The Shinigami gave her a little wave.
“Nice to meet you…” Hisoka mumbled. Yeah, now how to get rid of them…
Back inside for round three…
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