Chapter Text
Aphex is on fire . He is on fire . But strangely enough, it doesn’t hurt, not as much as it used to anymore.
As it happens, being burned alive, at first, feels like you had been locked inside a freezer. He had woken up with a random chill running down the right side of his body, then came the pain. It felt like magma was running through his veins, scorching his insides. His skin stung as sandpaper had rubbed it raw. It was followed by the sensation of needles prickling at his already battered body, all of it ripping a scream out from his shredded throat.
There had been many moments in his life where he had thought about how and when he would die and this was it. It was all-consuming and tumultuous until it burned away all that was left of him.
And with that, his memories burned and crumbled into ashes.
Despite being a master detective, Melami has never been able to stop a murder before it happens, nor witness one. She’s always been called whenever blood was already spilled, but even then she’s never been that useful, she was used to it though; you can’t win everything. But on this train ride, she’s learned that there’s always a first time for everything. She presumes that’s how she got herself into this odd situation, on a train with a traitor and an amnesiac little boy onboard.
Silently, she frowned down at the glass of red wine she'd been nursing, watching the liquid ripple with every slight twitch of her gloved hand. The sweet, fruity odor wafted its way up from the glass, tempting her, but she resisted.
She’d punish the traitor severely for taking away one of the few joys she had on this trip.
She had been lucky enough to not fall victim to the perverse drink's nature like Aphex had. But then again, she hadn’t been rude enough to snatch the drink she had offered Yuma straight from his hands. And, unlike the brusque man, she actually enjoyed drinking coffee and didn’t drink it to spite someone she barely knew.
Despite being on the train for only a few hours, Melami found herself enjoying the company of her fellow detectives. As a senior in the organization, she was, more often than not, responsible for training and guiding those below her. From what she could gather- from observations instead of questioning, which she prided herself in- everyone aside from Eraser was in their early twenties, edging the line of late teens and early adults and essentially, what her cousin would dub, ‘newbies’ .
And so, it would be her and Eraser’s job to guide these ‘newbies’ in the art of being a detective and help them further cultivate their fortes- more than they already had - alongside solving the mysteries of Kanai Ward. From the looks of things- mostly Aphex’s temperament and Yuma’s amnesia - she had her work cut out for her. So be it. She’s handled worse.
However, she’d be a liar if she said she currently didn’t have favorites, namely, Pucci and Zilch. She looked forward to investigating Kanai Ward with the two and maybe even shopping . Even though either of them could easily be a traitor, but, unlike the others, Melami found herself looking at the situation from a different perspective:
Optimism!
She’s been lacking much of it in her life- mostly due to her job - and wanted to change that. And what better way to start on the right foot than with a new mission? Though she’d admit that it was kind of hard considering there was a traitor on board, but she was going to ignore that for now and focus on the positive side of things, starting with planning out her outfit for Kanai Ward!
Rising from her seat she pushed in her stool and brushed down her skirt, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Melami shot Zange, who was still sitting in the corner of the room, a sugary sweet smile, waving at him.
“See you later!” She chirped, skipping to her room with an extra pep in her step. Everything was going to be okay. She’d make sure of it.
Entering her room, she kicked the door behind her and giddily made her way toward her luggage, pulling out an array of brightly colored clothes and shoes. Meticulously, she sorted them out by pattern and occasion, laying the formal outfits on the left and the casual wear on the right. She hummed in contentment as she looked over her options, tapping her chin in rhythm with the tune.
“ Maybe… ?” She muttered, lost in thought as she hovered over a dark, navy blue dress with gemstone patterns on it before shaking her head. “Hmm…” She rubbed her chin, narrowing her eyes at the clothes. “I-”
A sudden, raw , guttural scream erupted throughout the halls, bringing her heart to an abrupt stop. Hearing her blood rushing in her ears, she ran out of her room, whipping her head around with owlish eyes full of terror. The sound of it was far too familiar of the ones that haunted her dreams.
Whenever she closes her eyes- wishing for a peaceful rest - the guilt that buried itself deep in her subconscious crawls out of its narrow hole and destroys any stability she had left. She recognizes what she’s feeling deep in her chest, although she thought it was an emotion she’d only be able to feel in her dreams:
Despair .
Silently, a part of her is praying for all of this to be a nightmare that she’ll wake up from, while another part has already accepted this is her reality.
As she looked around, silently surveying her surroundings, she noticed a small trail of smoke start to leak out from underneath one of the guest rooms bringing her to a freezing halt. The other detectives left their rooms, rushing past her in panic as she stood there unable to move, her feet firmly rooted to the ground.
This was happening. This was really happening.
Why?
Melami wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to sink into a hole in the ground to rot in but most importantly she wanted to know why. Through all her years being a detective she never got an answer as to why someone could do this. What would bring someone to the point of murder? Why would anyone feel the need to do this?
Why?
She never understood it, and she presumes she never would. The feeling left her achingly empty inside.
Why?
Numbly, she followed behind the other detectives as they crowded around the room, following them in as they eventually opened the door, smoke billowing out of the rain. A sudden smell assaulted her nostrils, shocking her to her senses, only to end up confirming the worst. A smell so pungent that no nightmare could ever hope to replicate:
The smell of burnt flesh .
Her eyes water as she fervently waves her arm in front of her, fighting through the cloud of smoke slowly starting to suffocate.
Like the veteran he is, Eraser comes in and fixes everything while she stands there useless, as usual. Holding a fire extinguisher close to his chest, she watched as he grabbed the handle and pulled it with all his might. Foam had sprayed all across the room, creating a thick veil of smoke all around them as the smell grew even worse than before. She coughed as the cloud started to disappear, revealing a horrid scene in front of them.
On the floor, lying in a puddle of his own crimson blood, was Aphex. Smoke wafting off of bright red splotches all along his body, which was barely covered by the burnt remains of a coral tank top and black shorts. Only a few feet away from him sat Zilch and a pocket knife strewn across the floor. He was backed into the corner, clutching the box of matches against his chest with trembling hands. Shallow breaths heaved their way out of his chest as he stared at them with eyes that were blown wide.
Her brain could hardly register what was happening before her feet moved on their own.
“ Aphex! ” Almost tripping over her own two legs, she ran over to the blonde’s body, kneeling next to him as tears burned in the corner of her eyes. “Aphex… Aphex look at me, please . Look at me.”
Guilt streamed down her cheeks as no matter how much she shook his shoulders, he didn’t stir, not even twitching.
WHY?!
Her guilt blossomed into anger and pure, unadulterated hatred filled her veins.
It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her fault. It was all her-
Z I L C H .
He stared back at her, eyes wide with terror. Her hands trembled, vision going red.
WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?
W H Y ? !
This was all his fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault.
“Miss Goldmine…”
His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault. His fault.
“Miss Goldmine.”
Punish him. Punish him. Punish him. Punish him. Punish him. Punish him.
HE MUST SUFFER FOR ALL THE PAIN HE’S CAUSED.
“Miss Goldmine!”
K I L L H I M .
“ Melami ! ”
Eraser stood in front of her, holding back her wrist. There was a pocket knife in it. Its grip felt unfamiliar.
She felt so tired. Why had it come to this? She was ashamed of herself.
…Why? Just… Why…?
She was useless. Why couldn’t it have been her instead?
“Miss Goldmine,” Large hands were on her shoulder, squeezing them. Blinking back tears, she met the old man’s eyes, frowning. “I’m going to tie up Alexander, I need you and Kokohead to bring one of the gurneys here, put him on there and transport him back. Do you think you can do that?”
She blinked at him, her mind swirling in a cacophony of emotions. Numbly, she nodded and followed Yuma out of the room. Time blurred by, and before she knew it she was in the infirmary again with Eraser and Aphex, Zilch nowhere in sight. White noise flooded her ears and clouded her senses. Everything was too much and too little all at once. None of it made any sense.
Eraser handed her a pair of scissors which she took with trembling hands. Her eyes widened as she stared at it, then back up at him. “Wh… What am I supposed to do with this?”
The older detective remained unshaken by the question, seemingly by the event as a whole. She didn’t understand how.
“Cut off his shirt and shorts while I work on tending to his wounds.” Her heart came to a sudden stop in her chest.
“Excuse me?! I-I can’t-” Melami barely managed to choke out her sentence. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Detectives were supposed to prevent this, especially the more experienced ones like her, they were supposed to protect those younger than them. Yet here she stood in the infirmary, her junior lying on a bed and dying in front of her eyes.
Why had she been born such a failure?
“Do you want his wound to get infected and then have him die ?” Eraser asked her, his voice clipped.
She fervently nodded wiping at her sodden cheeks. “Of course I don’t,”
“Then you know what to do, I’ll be removing his jewelry.”
Holding back the sobs that wracked their way through her frame, her breath trembled as she slipped the scissors underneath the burnt coral-colored fabric, preparing herself for what she had to do.
There isn’t much for her to cut off, most of his tank top has been burned off, his striped shorts were tinged around the edges, and ash falling off upon the slightest touch. The smell of burnt flesh stained her nostrils, marking them with a scent that she was sure would haunt her dreams for the rest of time.
Melami felt sick to her stomach. Throwing up wouldn’t get rid of the feeling at all— she’d have to purge all her senses in order to rid herself of this feeling.
But it wasn’t that sickly feeling in her body that broke her, it was the small, faint whimper that slipped past Aphex's lips that made her crumble.
Fear and desperation shattered her heart into two as guilt streamed down her cheeks, the scissors clattering on the floor beside her. It felt as if the reality of the situation had finally dawned on her, the floor being pulled out from under her as she fell into a pit of utter despair and misery. She wanted to forget about it all, rip away all the stars above that scorned her until no one was left to judge her for all her mistakes and actions.
And for a brief moment, no one did. Her wails echoed off the walls of the room as the deafening clang of the burnt man’s jewelry sounded against the counter.
It was all so overwhelming. She couldn’t take it anymore.
Melami fell to her knees, the pain that briefly radiated in her legs only making her cry harder, curling in on herself as her body shook with agony and desperation.
“I-I’m sorry- I’m s-so sorry I’m sorry Aphex I’m so sorry!…” She bawled while simultaneously rocking herself back and forth. It felt like she couldn’t breathe, like something had a vice grip on her lungs. Everything was just too much.
It was too much that there was a traitor on the train. It was too much that a traitor had hurt one of their own. It was too much that Aphex had been injured because of her carelessness. And it was too much that Aphex might die because of it.
Because of her and her useless forte.
She was only ever helpful when her hands were already stained with the blood of innocent lives lost.
He was going to die because of her. He was going to die in agony and his blood was going to be on her hands.
Melami didn’t want to be on this train anymore. She didn’t want to be a detective anymore. She didn’t deserve it. She just wanted to lock herself in her home so she could rot away and never be seen again.
It should have been her instead.
The colors burn brightly into my brain, all of them so bright I can no longer see. I try to peer around for a clue but my eyes have already been scorched by those amber images, yet everything is far too bright.
My muscles twitch in anticipation as lies fill my ears. My breath quickens as the images rapidly fill my head.
Are there even other people in this room? Is that what this noise is? People talking? Or is it all just a figment of my messed-up imagination?
The noise won’t stop. It violently grates at me, a meaningless cacophony of noise pierces my brain. The images won’t go away.
Fresh blood stains my clothes and fills my mouth. The air I breathe escapes me as panic replaces it in its stead. There has to be a way out.
Pain.
Pain.
PAIN .
He’s right there. He’s right there .
Pain fills my ears, and endless noise assaults my senses.
The images won’t go away. Leave me alone. LEAVE ME ALONE .
He keeps driving his knife continuously through my flesh, ruining me. He drives his knife through my blood-coated ashes. There’s nothing left but he keeps stabbing me.
I breathe out blood and smoke.
The noise, it won’t STOP .
I can feel how tenderly he drives the knife into my skin. I lean into the pain. Pleasure bursts from the brief contact of skin to skin. My retinas burn as flashing colors ingrain themselves in my skin.
Pain is beauty. Love is pain. My body is not my own, it never has been. I scream louder .
I AM IN AGONY.
HELP .
M E .
My mind breaks into fragments scattered all around, blood drips from the edges.
This body is not my own. It never will be.
I deserve this.
I DESERVE THIS…
…
…
…
My body is not my own. It belongs to those above me.
This body is not my own. It belongs to those above me- get out of my head.
Get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head.
When I boarded the ship you were supposed to get out of my head.
When I became a detective you were supposed to get out of my head.
When I stepped onto the train you were supposed to get out of my head.
When I wake up you’ll be out of my head.
G E T O U T O F M Y H E A D .
Useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless useless-
I’m disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.
I scream as loud as I can. I beg. I plead. I cry. It makes them happy.
I tell myself it's worth it for I am worth nothing. The pain cages me.
They caged me.
I never escaped the world of pain I used to live in. I never boarded the ship. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no escape. There’s no esca-
I am disgusting.
No one will save me.
I am disgusting.
No one will save someone as disgusting as me.
I allow my mind to shatter into fragments.
Pain.
Pain.
PAIN .
I give up.
PAIN.
SUFFERING.
AGONY.
What’s even the point?
STOP.
PLEASE.
HELP ME.
I shatter into fragments.
HE’S RIGHT THERE. HE’S RIGHT THERE. HE’S RIGHT THERE. HE’S RIGHT THERE. HE’S RIGHT THERE. HE’S RIGHT THERE-
I accept the pain I’m given.
I deserve it.
I deserve all of this.
I am nothing.
And I never will be.
I shatter.
Aphex, from what Zange can determine, is in stable condition. His body had been littered with blisters, burns, and red spots of various sizes littering his body, accompanied by splotches of swollen flesh. But, despite is unsavory state, he was somehow alive. Zange wanted to say it was a miracle, but miracles didn’t exist in this line of work. He sighed, feeling a headache start to come on.
Regret creeping up his back, he made the slow walk back to the dining car. Pucci had locked herself in her room following the incident, and Yuma had insisted on staying at the unconscious detective’s side to watch over him, meanwhile, Melami was… From his observation, she had taken it the worst out of everyone, yet for some reason he wasn’t surprised by that.
Stepping into the dining car, he saw the woman he had just been thinking about sitting alone at the bar. Her hands were folded over her lap, eyes glazed over as she stared at the table. Clearing his throat, and making his footsteps as loud as possible, he made his way and sat down beside her. Seconds pass, and then eventually minutes.
When it’s clear that, despite his obvious appearance in the room, she’s not going to say anything, he asks, “Are you okay?”
Blinking, she froze in her seat, then looked up at him warier than she had been before, almost shy-like. “Oh…”
A sliver of surprise shines in her eyes before getting replaced with something dark that he can’t quite read. She looked down at her hands trembling hands, bringing them to a close before letting out a shaky breath.
“Yes,” Melami answers, “I suppose I am,”
He made sure his skepticism was obvious as he eyed her. Even the amnesic boy a few carts over could tell she wasn’t alright. But he’s learned through trial and error that you can’t just say that. So, they both resume themselves to a vow of silence until one of them eventually breaks.
“I don’t need your pity,” She hissed, narrowing her gaze at him, a low fire burning in her eyes. “I’m a grown woman for god's sake.”
He shook his head at her. “I never said you did.”
“Then stop staring at me like I do, I don’t want it.” She spat and once more they fell into silence because that’s what their relationship is. A very quiet friendship that edges on the line of coworkers and acquaintances. That’s what most of his friendships culminate in, a shoulder to lean on when everyone turns your back on you. Never anything too personal or well-meaning to bloom into actual companionship.
This isn’t what he planned to happen, but that’s okay. If silence is the more comfortable option, then he won’t break it. He’ll allow it to ruminate for as long as it needs to.
Until, eventually, as the ticking of the clock suffocates them in the deafening silence they’ve surrounded themselves in, Melami speaks up:
“Ca… Can I have a hug?” Her voice is so quiet he thought he almost had imagined it, but the pleading eyes that stare at him tell no lies. “... Please ?”
In the shrouded despair that covers them both, he hugs her, not bothered as she buries her head in his now wet shoulder because that’s what their relationship is. A quiet friendship edging on the line of mentor and guardian. A shoulder to cry on in your moment of grief, a place to seek familial love in spite of past sins.
It’s something new to him, something he hadn’t thought he’d find ever again. But once more, like he had all those decades ago it’s something he’s still willing to let cultivate even if it’ll sting tenfold when he loses it.
But that’s okay because sacrifices must be made in order for one to grow. If he needs to be that sacrifice in Melami’s life to help her, then so be it.
“It’ll get easier,” Zange eventually told her, careful with his words, but she was no fool.
“Please don’t lie to me,” The shakiness of her voice told a story beyond words, one of regret and despair that’s haunted her day-to-day life. It’s a story he’s more acquainted with than he’d rather be.
“You’ll just have to get used to this feeling, but it’s easier if you allow others to share the burden.” He reassures her regardless.
“I don’t think I deserve it,” Melami tightens her grip on his clothing as tears dribble down her cheeks
“You did as much as you could, there was nothing else you could do.”
“If I did, then why do I feel so awful?”
Zange knows well, that no matter how much you try or what you do, nothing will be able to stop the feeling of rot that grows on the inside from this job. He’s not sure how to explain that no matter how much life beats you down you mustn’t give up no matter what, because it’s something a person must find for themselves. Just like how he found his reason to live all those decades ago, Melami must find hers as well.
“You’ll feel that way no matter what happens, I’ve been on missions like that before and no matter what you do there’ll always be some kind of pain afterward.”
Melami pulled away, sitting back in her spot beside him. She put her head in her hands, her tears now slowing in their flow down her cheeks.
“I-I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be crying right now, I wasn’t e-even hurt. I’m being stupid.” She ran a trembling hand through her hair, lip quivering.
“You’re allowed to cry, you were hurt as well.” God knows how many tears he had shed for those he lost even if they weren’t close.
“B-but nothing even happened to me! I’m just being emotional! I’m being stupid! I’m not the one who’s in pain right now-”
He interrupted her. “It doesn’t matter, what happened hurt you. You were hurt whether it be emotionally or mentally. What happened hurt everyone here in more ways than any of us think even if we weren’t the one directly being harmed.”
“But if I had just-”
“No, they shouldn’t have hurt Logan in the first place. If anyone here is at fault it’s Alexander since he decided to do that. Blaming yourself for such things will only make you spiral,”
Shame flashing across her face, she looked away, frowning. “...I’m sorry for making things worse.”
“You don’t need to apologize,”
“But I’m making things worse, I’m making you mad, and I’m sorry -”
“You aren’t angering me,” Zange insisted as he shook his head. “And, again, you have nothing to apologize for. My feelings are my own, and you’re not responsible for them, just like how you aren’t responsible for Alexander’s actions either.”
Melami’s lip quivered underneath her teeth and she hugged him tight, his jacket growing wet again.
Zange will make as many sacrifices as he needs if it means it’ll help the others grow past this, no matter the cost.
‘Truth goes to die in Kanai Ward’ , was what Yuma was told, but what he wasn’t told is that truth also dies on its way to it. Was finding out who the traitor was really worth it if this is what had to happen in order to do it? To him- to Yuma - it didn’t seem worth it at all.
In some deep crevice of his brain, he can remember the idea that detectives are supposed to be "heroes." He doesn’t quite know why he used to think this way but it makes sense to him regardless. Detectives were supposed to uphold justice and bring hope to everyone around them, yet he had failed at that. He had even lost the pocket knife he was supposed to keep safe. Why had he even been allowed to be a detective in the first place? He didn’t-
BANG!
The loud noise snapped him out of his thoughts. He whipped his head around and was greeted with a cloud of purple smoke wearing a crown and horns.
“ Boo ,” It said, and Yuma let out a loud screech, stumbling back until he was flat against the wall.
“Wh-who are you?!” He yelled, pointing at the odd cloud.
“Aww really? C’mon Master, don’t you remember this adorable face?”
“M-master?! What are you talking about? Who are you?!”
“I’m your friendly neighborhood death god of course!” The purple ghost chirped, flying in a circle with a cheerful disposition.
“ ‘D-death god’ ?!” Yuma squawked.
“Aww… Do you really not remember me Master? After everything we’ve been through?!” The purple ghost rested a hand on their chest as they slowly swayed downwards to the floor. “Oh, you wound me , Master. I don’t think I’ll ever recover. I’m a goner!”
After a beat of silence, they flew back up scratching the back of their head with a grimace. “Alright, I’m bored, now let’s see what we have here- Oh! Oh oh is that what I think it is? Oh, I think that’s what I think it is!” Letting out an ear-wrenching squeal, they bolted towards the infirmary bed Aphex was lying on. Waving their arms fervently up and down, they circled around the unconscious detective's head, mumbling excitedly themselves.
“H-hey! What are you doing?” Yuma ran up aside the bed, eyes wide with panic.
“Oh, this is so exciting! So mysteriful! This might be the best pact I’ve made yet.”
“‘ Pact’ ? What are you talking about? Are you the reason I don’t remember anything?”
Coming to a sudden stop in their tracks, the ghost looked down at the shorter man, tapping the corner of their lips. “Oh right, you don’t remember anything, I forgot.”
“You forgot?!”
“Look, there are more exciting things happening right now, if you couldn’t tell, so I’m going to keep this short. Once upon a time blah blah blah and a pact was made you gave up your memories in order for me to team up with you- blah blah blah exciting things happened, sparkles, explosions, murder, blah blah blah- my name is Shinigami, and I’m your personal assistant and death god. NOW, what happened here?!” Shinigami exclaimed, zipping towards Aphex’s body. Like a weirdo, she let in a deep sniff, perking up.
“Do you smell that? I smell a mystery afoot, and this one is still fresh!” Her eyes suddenly widened as something Yuma couldn’t quite figure out sparkled deep in them. She cupped her cheeks as she vibrated vigorously. “And so is the body! He’s not even dead yet!”
After doing a 180, she stopped in front of Yuma and put her hands on his cheeks, squeezing them together. “Did you do this Master?” Blushing, Shinigami waved at him shyly. “Oh, how devious of you! I would have never thought a shortcake like you had it in you.”
“Wha- No! I didn’t do any of this I-I’m just watching him to make sure he’s okay!”
“ Awwww , and here I thought you were cool but no you’re just super boring! Ughhh… Lame! ” She dramatically drooped downwards, her hands hanging limply at her side. “You’re probably gonna tell me you found the culprit as well!”
“We did- wait did you want him not to be found?!”
“Duh! How else are we supposed to solve a mystery if everything is already solved? That’s like the lamest way to get around a story’s conflict ever!” Shinigami fumed, folding her translucent arms over her smooth chest.
‘Story’s conflict’? Yuma thought, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the ghost. What is she even talking about? Did I… Take something before I came on this train or have I just finally gone crazy?
“Hey! I can hear you y’know!” Shinigami screeched, waving her arms up and down.
The purple-haired boy jumped back at the sudden noise, eyes wide like a startled owl.
“Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway now that the mystery is all done and solved. You can blame you know who for that one.” At those words, he only grew even more confused.
It almost sounded like she was foreshadowing something. Like the plot of some poorly written story by a high schooler who was still discovering themselves and was inadvertently doing it through the story they had written. But no , that didn’t make any sense, in fact, that was a seemingly preposterous conclusion, where did those thoughts even come from?
“What are you talking about?!” Yuma yelled. It felt like he had gotten hit in the head with a stop sign then- you guessed it- run over by a truck, and then thrown under that truck to get run over again . Adding nonstop insult to injury.
“If you bothered to listen then- Oh !” Suddenly, she froze, before whipping her head around with a sparkle in her eyes. “Master~ Do you hear that?”
“Hear what ?” Yuma glared at her, his irritation growing.
“Scarface’s heartbeat over here! It’s starting to slow down! Kyah~ So exciting ! So mysteriful ! Maybe something interesting will happen after all!” As she spoke she flew in a spiral before waving her arms excitedly, grinning from ear to nonexistent ear.
“It’s what ?!” Yuma shouted, his voice breaking.
“I smell a dead body cooking up!” She chirped, continuing to fly in a circle blissfully unaware of the detective's current plight.
With white noise threatening to invade his senses as tears crept up in the corners of his eyes, the purple-haired man started to shake the comatose detective’s body with fervor. He kept on shaking and shaking his body. Praying to whatever god he had previously worshiped that he’d get a response.
“ Please wake up! Please !” Big, doey, purple eyes pleaded for a response. Yet no matter how much he shook him. No matter how much he pleaded, begged, or cried he didn’t get a single twitch.
Shinigami watched as the detective started to pace back and forth, letting out labored breath after labored breath his chest rattling in the intensity. His eyes spiraled, anxiety and despair layering on each other in a never-ending hole.
“Oh god… Oh god …” Yuma gasped, his throat tightening as he tried to swallow the dread that burrowed itself deep in his throat. It felt like he couldn’t breathe. Oh god, was he losing his mind ? Was he gonna lose his mind and die ?
“ What have I done…? ” His voice was quiet as it wavered and cracked. His body shook, mind growing foggy as a familiar static filled his body. His chest tightened as his vision grew blurry.
This was his fault and he was going to die because of his mistakes. He didn’t want to die , he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen.
“I don’t wanna die- I really don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die Shinigami I don’t wanna-”
“Ack- calm down Master! Jeez! I was joking when I said he was gonna die!... At least not straight away. Anyway! He still has some time left, if I knew you were gonna be a baby about it I wouldn’t have said that in the first place.” Shinigami sneered, face twisting in pity.
“I-I’m not being a baby, this is serious!” Yuma cried, face scrunching up in fear.
“Yeah whatever…” She muttered, waving her hand. “Doesn’t matter anyway, he’s gonna die if you stay here and sit on your ass like you're currently doing.”
“I- I…” He stuttered out, his breath catching in his throat.
I need to do something, he thought, heart hammering in his chest, but what can I even do? I don’t remember anything, I’m so useless, just like Shinigami said… But there has to be something I can do! If I can’t help him then… It was like a lightbulb lit up above his head, and with that idea, he ran out of the train car and further into the train.
“Does anyone here have any medical training?! I need some help please!” He cupped his hands around his mouth, his throat ached in pain as the abuse it was suffering.
“Ohhhh, so there are other people here! How exciting~” Shinigami cheered with a mirthful smile.
A loud thud sounded from one of the guest rooms as the two eldest detectives came rushing out of their rooms, eyes wide with panic. Out of breath, he pointed at the infirmary’s door, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes.
“It… It’s Aphex…” It felt like he couldn’t breathe. “S-something’s wrong, I don’t know what but his heart it…” It’s slowing down , yet he couldn’t find it in himself to put it into words. He didn’t want to confirm that this was happening and give it a voice.
Zange rushed past him into the room, the uneasy look on his face sending a prickle of dread down the purple-haired man’s spine. That dread only expanded into terror as Melami’s expression darkened into something that shook him to his very core and she stomped towards Zilch’s room.
Pucci, wearing a weary expression, stumbled out of her room and shot him a frightful look before chasing after the other woman. Not allowing himself to be frozen in fear once more, he chased after her, dragging Shinigami along with him.
Yuma wasn’t quite sure what he expected when he boarded this train, but it wasn’t any of this. He didn’t expect to be standing side by side with Pucci, watching as Melami lifted up a traitor by the scruff of their shirt, a malicious look shining in her eyes.
“ Why?! Why did you do it to him?!” As Melami spoke, she violently shook the man, tears springing to the corner of her eyes. “Answer me! Does your dignity mean more to you than an innocent person’s life?!”
With her eyes still pleading for an answer, she threw him to the ground and glowered at him as if he were the scum of the earth. “ One reason ,” The blonde hissed, whipping out a navy blue pocket knife from her skirt and pointing it at his throat. “Give me one good reason for me not to kill you right now. Get on your knees and beg for your life, and make it convincing.”
Yet Zilch was unwavered by her anger, not a singular tremble apparent in his already smooth voice. “You can hurt me all you want, but that won’t change the fact that it’s all your fault. Where were you Miss Melami? Were you too busy thinking about the next whorish outfit you’ll dress yourself up in so you can catch the attention of every man on the street? Or were you instead wondering when- aUGH-”
Pucci delivered a harsh blow to his stomach, coldly glaring at him. “Don’t talk to her like that, she has a lot more taste than you ever will, and freedom too. At least she has logic behind her behavior, unlike your callous actions.”
“Oh, and what are you going to do? Listen to my heartbeat too hard? Please, all I have to do is scream a little too loud for your liking and you’ll be easily incapacitated just like the pathetic little girl you are.”
“Listen here you disgusting scum” The eldest woman scowled, stepping up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “If he dies I don’t care who I have to hurt, I don’t care what I have to do, I will track you down to the end of the earth if it means I can make you feel the same pain he went through. Every. Single. Second. Of. IT.”
Zilch simply chuckled in response, making her drop him with a look not shy of complete and utter disgust. “I look forward to it!”
Zange entered the room, a calm expression on his face, everyone looked at him, silence falling upon the room. “He’s alright, just a slight hiccup in the treatment.”
Yuma let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.
“Now,” The elder man turned his back to them all. “Let us go and discuss what to do next, Kanai Ward is just beyond the horizon.
In silence, the detectives left the room to go check up on their wounded ally, leaving the murderer all alone in contentment with his own actions.
My name is Aphex Logan, a Master Detective from the WDO.
As a child, I lived together with my mother and father and was content with everything I had, if anything I only wished to spend more time with my parents.
Then, one day, my dear parents had their necks sliced open in front of me and passed away peacefully. It was then, that I became my parent’s killers target. Yet, despite my compliance, I had little knowledge of what horrors would soon await me.
Blissfully ignorant of how these groups were conducted, I allowed myself to be treated like a trophy to these people. But they paid little heed to my suffering or the lives of those they had taken and tainted. I had always thought that adults were supposed to protect me; but now, I saw that anyone could easily fall into the trap of greed and tear apart those who threatened to raise conflict, no matter if they were a child or an adult.
My naivety and youth had been stolen from me. I felt the agony of those suffering the same injustice my parents tried to combat. I felt the desperation of people who fought for survival. I also saw how, when given the chance to live a gilded life of luxury, most people would kill to obtain it. I decided then, that I must make a change. I would fight for the same injustice my parents so desperately tried to prevent and do all I could to eliminate greed from this world.
That is why I boarded the ship that night. That is what drew me to start developing my forte and become the Master Detective I am today.
When I boarded that ship, not a single doubt clouded my mind. With some hard work, I would be able to help rid the earth of the injustices that plagued it. But then, my dream of justice soon turned into a nightmare
Everything I did only ended up causing more conflict, and eventually death. I watched loved ones turn on each other as greed and paranoia poisoned their minds.
For years, this nightmare continued, those years stretched to decades and even to this day, it continues.
But death is a privilege I’m not meant to know. The only thing I have left is this endless solitude awaiting me. And who knows what it will do to me?
That is why I have decided to yield myself to relinquishing the mysteries of this world and hopefully, one day forget these painful memories. I can only pray that my parents aren’t waiting for me.
That is my only wish.
Until then I’ll be searching- always searching- for that same justice I never got.
After all, I didn’t become a… Become a…
I…
…
…
…
I don’t know anymore… I feel so hollow inside, I …
…
Who am I?
What happened to me?
And why does everything hurt
so much
?