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She knows full well that there are people waiting for him.
She holds the shot put ball in her hands, fingers trembling as she stares down at her weapon, and knows with her entire soul that there are people waiting for him to come home to them. There are people who depend on him. People who love him. People who need him. People who he's left behind for the sake of others. She looks down at her weapon and wonders if she can really go through with this. If she really should go through with this.
She wonders if her bosses made the right decision, choosing her for this role.
If she feels so much hesitation over a simple murder, should she really be the mastermind of this killing game?
She takes a deep breath and attempts to shake the thoughts away. She attempts to forget those days, so very long ago, when a boy with soft green hair and kind green eyes held her hands in his own and painted an intricate design across her nails. She attempts to forget the days where that same boy would smile at her, smile and tell her that everything would be alright. The days she went by a different name and wore a different appearance and still wondered how no one could recognize her.
She questions... if she'll really be able to bring an end to the boy who looked upon her with little more than kind consideration. The boy who gave himself away for her.
How little he knew of the truth.
She takes a deep breath.
Now or never.
She doesn't have long. She knows that.
Maybe if I don't look.
She knows, better than anyone, that Rantaro Amami has people waiting for him. There are people in this world who depend on him. There are people in this world who will suffer from his loss. There are people in this world who need him.
But she knows that her bosses don't care about such petty details.
Rantaro Amami knows more than he should,
and the mastermind's duty is to ensure that the killing game goes smoothly.
"I'm sorry, Amami-kun."
He looks back.
"Shiro–"
Blood soaks the floor of the library.
She collects the evidence that could reveal her crime and retreats to her hidden door.
Hands caked with blood and cheeks coated with tears, the mastermind returns to the first floor to ensure her alibi.