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┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓
The air was heavy after the third trial. Hardly anyone spoke to him, even bothered to look at him. Himiko was as distraught as one would expect, though he really didn’t quite understand it. She hadn’t cared for Tenko at all until mere minutes before she went under that iron cage.
He was very lucky. He knew that. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Angie’s death had been his fault. He’d been working on very little sleep, adrenaline rushing through him at the thought of being caught. Not to mention how crowded his thoughts had been with his sister. He really thought he had killed them both, going into the trial. Himiko’s guilt seemed to take everyone by surprise, himself no exception. The rule had taken effect, Himiko had been killed in front of them all just as Kaede and Kirumi had, and then he had to deal with the aftermath. He was alive, and that was all that counted.
Still, he found himself coming to Shuichi for once. The trial replayed in his head, day and night, as did their talks before it all had gotten so complicated. Everyone hated him. Still, Shuichi had been level-headed enough to keep them all from a wrongful death, even after he’d mistakenly confessed to her murder. It would have been easy to take him at his word. He hadn’t. If not for those injuries he couldn’t explain, and Shuichi’s wit, they’d all be dead. It was all he could do to thank him. That was what he’d told himself.
He knocked once to be met with silence. The second time, he pulled open his door, looking wide awake despite the time of night and the pajamas he sported. “What, Kait— oh.” He looked ill at ease, cracking the door a little, but he didn’t close it. “What is it, Kiyo?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you. I wanted to thank you for today,” he said awkwardly. This had been sort of stupid. It could have waited until breakfast, or whenever they next saw each other. This was all beginning to feel like an excuse just to see him.
“You don’t need to thank me. We all would have died. I didn’t solve that case for your sake,” he said, a little harshly.
It stung a bit. Not a day before, they’d agreed to travel together. Not a promise in writing, or anything even sort of official, but it had been nice. If he didn’t know better, he might have thought he’d begun to consider Shuichi a friend. “Still. Most people wouldn’t have believed me. My sister and I talking the way we were.”
He frowned a little, breaking the eye contact between them uncomfortably. “Yeah… about that. What was all of that?”
“I can explain, if you’d let me out of the hall.” Shuichi looked even more uncomfortable at that, stepping back a little. “I only kill women,” he said quickly, “and I wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that sort of thing when everyone hates me right now.” He seemed to think it over, but he must have been convinced enough. He opened the door a little further with a sigh, gesturing for him to enter.
Shuichi’s room was about what he’d expect. It looked about the same as his, kept just as neat and tidy, his wardrobe quite a bit more full than his own. His hat lay on his nightstand, even if he hadn’t worn it since Kaede’s execution. Some of her things were in here too, little mementos of the girl they’d barely gotten to know. It sparked another twinge of fondness in him for the boy. Neither of them seemed to want death to be final.
He’d planned to just stand there, but Shuichi gestured for him to sit at the foot of the bed in front of him, and so he did. He’d assume he wanted something from him if he didn’t still have such displeasure etched on his face.
“Was it an act or something? To throw us off?”
“No, of course not,” he said, almost offended. “I wouldn’t disrespect her like that.”
“Well then what was all that?”
“I told you, it was part of my travels. Perhaps not to the story’s full extent, but I know I’ve mentioned it. The village, where they welcomed me with bondage and whips? It was a very spiritual experience, like I said, I’m eternally grateful. They brought me to the brink of death, let my fingertips brush against it, and my sister’s soul took my hand and followed me back to the land of the living.”
He almost looked more disturbed, like it wasn’t the most beautiful story in his arsenal he had to offer. “So she’s a ghost?”
“I suppose you could call it that. I don’t really care what she technically qualifies as. She’s with me, as you saw, and that’s enough.”
“And all the incest stuff… Was that all true too?”
“Of course. I know it’s a touchy subject with a lot of people, but a lot of cultures embrace such things with open arms. No matter how taboo it may seem to you, it’s human nature, nothing more. I love her, and she loves me, no matter what anyone else may say.” He should have known things would come to this. She always said it would, if anyone were to ever find out about them. He had spoken, and now people were even more reluctant around him, just as she’d always warned him. He wondered if it was more or less offputting than the serial murder and killing their classmate.
“I just kind of wonder… You know, a lot of the time somebody initiated this kind of thing. You said she was older than you, right?”
He pursed his lips under his mask, withdrawing towards himself a bit. “She didn’t groom me, or abuse me, or rape me, if that’s what you’re implying. But yes, she was older than me by five years.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m not accusing anybody,” he said, looking a little nervous. “I’m just asking. Curiosity and all, I am a detective. How did that kind of thing start anyway?”
He laughed a little, even if he wasn’t quite convinced. “You know, I’m beginning to wonder if you really do have a bit of a sister complex. I’d been teasing, but most people would be rather squeamish hearing about this kind of thing. Your open mindedness is welcome, of course, but I have to wonder about your motives.”
He seemed to think a minute, fiddling with his hand anxiously. “I guess… You want me to help you with anthropology stuff, right? I want to learn. Like Medusa, or Princess Kaguya, I listened then. I’ll listen now.”
Korekiyo hesitated. It sort of felt like a trap, like a way to get him to talk without cornering him with threats and moral purity, but he had a good point. No one but Shuichi had cared to listen to him talk about his studies, none of the others had heard him out at all once he admitted to Tenko’s murder, even less so once his sister had come out, once he’d announced their love for everyone to hear. Shuichi knew more about her than perhaps anyone but himself did.
“It was just sort of always true,” he admitted, unwinding and rewinding his bandages around his fingers, anything to keep him from seeing Shuichi’s reactions to it all. “We were both children. We were always alone. We only ever had each other to depend on. She loved me, and I loved her. It was all very innocent, until we were old enough to know about such things. We’d kiss, we’d sleep in the same bed, we’d help dress each other, help each other with meals. I’d visit her in the hospital, she’d read me stories.”
He was frowning a little already, his eyebrows pressed together worriedly, though he seemed to be trying very hard to keep his expression neutral. “So when did that change?”
“I think I was… six. Which would have made her eleven. Her condition was worsening, and we were both getting older, more mature. She was scared. That was all.” He tried to correct his tone. He was coming across shakey again, unsure, like he was defending them from accusations all over again already. “She didn’t want to die without certain experiences. And we were already in love by then. We knew what people would say, what they’d think. But we were in love. I’ll stand by that decision until my final breath. We both agreed to it.”
“I’m not saying you didn’t,” he said gently. “I’m just listening for now, remember? And you don’t have to tell the whole thing if you don’t want to.”
He shook his head. It was strange, his throat felt tight and stuffed full of cotton, he could hardly breathe with how nervous he was all of a sudden, but it poured out like a fountain anyway. “She asked me to be her boyfriend. She slept with me that night, and it was wonderful. She made me feel wonderful. We had sex as often as she could manage it. But it wasn’t all that, that’s all people think we did. Neither of us is as superficial as all of that. We went on dates. We kept taking care of each other like we always did. We still held hands, and kissed, we still loved each other. I loved her more than I ever loved the sex.”
“Of course. She was your sister.” He hated it. It was like the more he tried to explain himself, the more sad Shuichi looked, no matter how well he was hiding it. All Korekiyo ever did was watch people like specimens through glass at the zoo. He wasn’t stupid.
“She— she died when I was fourteen,” he choked out. He hadn’t asked. He’d asked how it had started, not his whole life story. He didn’t stop him though. “She wasn’t even twenty. She wanted to have a big celebration for her twentieth. She never even got to be an adult.” He was crying now, pathetically. It surprised him a little, the sudden thickness of his mask being wet around his mouth, but it was quiet at least, unnoticable if not for the way his voice shook and broke in odd spots, the makeup inevitably running down his cheeks. “I was so lost. She’s all I ever had. That’s when I left home. I travelled the country. I tried to find a way to bring her back. Nothing worked, not until that village. We’re in love, we really are, in the purest way possible. We can’t even have sex anymore, it’s never been about that. Is all that so bad? Is it really so terrible that we’re soulmates? That we just so happened to be related?”
He looked to be at a loss for words, reaching out a little to take one of his hands, now a bit frantic as he unwound his bandages, going too far and revealing some of the scarring beneath. “Take it easy.”
“Calm yourself,” he agreed, taking on her tone of voice.
That was a good first step. He lowered his mask, their air coming in easier at least. Still, he always felt sort of exposed, though it didn’t really matter now. They’d all seen him like this in such a discomposed state, he didn’t think he could ever look any of them in the eye again.
“Is that her too? The mask?” he asked carefully, like he wasn’t sure which of them he was talking to. “I know you said she made your uniform.”
“Korekiyo’s not allowed to be near me without it,” he said firmly, and he knew somewhere inside of himself that at least in this moment she was no more real than any other method of bringing the dead back to the realm of the living. In that moment, he needed some sort of seperation from himself. He always hated how well he could read himself even through his distress and delusions. “I’m very sick, and my immune system is extremely weak. It’s best he wears it everywhere so neither of us is at risk of contamination.”
“Okay… And the lipstick, is that to make her feel better?”
“I’ve been wearing it like this since I was young,” he said, taking that question for himself. “The same is true of my hair, and my nails, and my hygeine in general. We look very alike, and she thought herself unsightly with the sickness. I’ve always found her beautiful, but I let her express herself through me, since she couldn’t through herself. I feel I owe her that much, since I’ve always been well and her body failed her so terribly.”
He seemed like he’d asked enough, still sort of gently holding his still-shaking hands in his own. “That’s… It’s all really interesting, Kiyo. Thanks for telling me. I wish… I’m sorry everyone got so weird about it. I think it just surprised them is all. This trial was a lot, between two people dead, and… well, you know, it’s not often you meet two people in one and all.”
“You don’t have to be polite.” He withdrew his hands carefully once he noticed he was letting him hold him like that, it all just felt so wrong even if he didn’t particularly mind it. “I know what I am. I’m off-putting at the best of times.”
“I don’t think so.” He didn’t seem to really know what to say, though that didn’t stop him from looking him over with that half-concealed concern. “I don’t mind if you need anything. Today’s been a lot for you, and… if it’s anything like how I felt after Kaede died, I’d be happy to help you through it however I can. Kaito and Maki already stopped by, so I’ve got all night.”
He hugged his arms around himself, staring at Shuichi’s knee, a bit lost in thought. It was almost worse that he offered. If he really thought about it, he’d really hate to be alone, and his eyes hurt from crying, and he felt sort of dirty all over, and he hadn’t eaten since Angie’s death nearly a day and a half before. Not that he particularly felt like asking for anything to remedy any of those problems. “I don’t know. I think I’ll be alright.”
“You can sleep here if you want?” He paused, wincing a little when he must have caught how Korekiyo would read that offer. “Not to do anything, of course. I won’t touch you at all.”
“I killed someone yesterday,” he pointed out. “You’d sleep around me?”
“You’re not gonna kill me. It’s just girls, and they’d know it was you, just like you said. If it’ll help, you can stay.”
He thought about making excuses. He needed his sleepwear, his night mask, to properly make sure his hair wasn’t in knots by the morning, but it had been so long since he’d really been around anyone, especially anyone that knew anything more than a fake name he’d given them, a fake excuse to do with anthropology to get some girl alone. It had to have been since his sister had died.
With a feeling just as sickening as it was comforting, he slowly nodded his head, pulling his mask back up his face. “I would be very grateful, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother. I’d hate to impose.”
“I’d love to have you.” Not that he sounded all that thrilled, but all he could really do was believe him. “I don’t really have anything for makeup, but you could try to wash it off anyway. Unless you leave it on overnight, I don’t know.”
“No,” he laughed a little, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “That’s terrible for your skin. I’ll manage fine with just water. Thank you.”
Shuichi let him use the bathroom, offering him some of his clothes to sleep in for the night. His bathroom was less well-stocked than Korekiyo’s own, no makeup, or skincare products, no hairbrush. Just a few bottles of shower products lazily lined up in a row. He unwound the bandages around his hands first, folding them neatly for tomorrow’s use. He’d really rather not have his arms out, but scars and cuts were the least of his worries about things to be judged for, and sleeping in them would only make them practically unusable by morning. His mask followed, placed carefully next to them. It took quite a bit more time and effort than if he had his own bathroom available, but he didn’t have any of that during field work, he was well used to having to scrub his face clean more harshly than he should.
It was nerve wracking, facing himself in the mirror, so far out of any routine he’d ever followed. It was more of his own body than he was used to seeing, even fully dressed. He always dodged the mirror outside of dressing for her, making sure every detail was perfect. Like this, he could see old wounds, more recent ones, tattoos more for his own purposes than appearances, just how boney and pale he was from keeping everything but his eyes hidden at all times. His nails looked less dainty and regal like this too, long and thin and looking about a second away from breaking. Even if it was all out of order too, he put on his day mask for some sort of familiarity.
Shuichi didn’t really seem to care one way or another, even if he did give him a few passing glances up and down his body. He seemed to have taken the time to set up the bed they’d be sharing, which he’d divided in half with a wall of pillows. He wasn’t sure whether it was an overcompensation on his behalf, or if Shuichi thought that would somehow stop him from killing him in his sleep if he felt so inclined. “I can sleep on the floor,” he offered. “This all seems a bit unnecessary.”
“It’s fine,” he insisted, waving him off. “It’s probably just for the one night anyway.”
“If you say so.” He placed his uniform down on the nightstand as if it were one of his delicate artifacts, which it was, in a way. It was all he had left of her, and that was what most of his collection was. Irreplaceable memories laden with the death of their creators. “I really didn’t mean to crowd you at all. I was only here to thank you. And perhaps apologize now. I’m not sure why you’re treating me like this when I killed Tenko the way I did.”
He frowned at that, focusing more on his half of the bedding to avoid reacting for a good minute. “I guess I can’t really hold it against you any more than the first two. Or anybody here. I don’t hate Kaede, or Kirumi, or Himiko. We’re all stuck in this situation. It could be me who tries to kill somebody next. I don’t think I would, but I didn’t think any of you would either. The rules say you’re pardoned, so I’ll think of it objectively. You killed someone, but it’s been dealt with, so it’s just something to keep in mind now. Evidence.”
“I suppose.” He sat on his half of the bed, leaving a good bit of space between himself and Shuichi’s makeshift barrier. “Then another thank you.”
“Yeah. No problem.” He rolled himself into bed, settling under the blanket with some struggle at the lack of space. “Try to sleep. We’ve only got a few hours before wake-up call.”
He would have to wake up at the same time as the rest of them, he realized. He wouldn’t have his alarm. He’d have no time to put himself together, to speak to her properly. He would have stayed dressed, made up, and awake if he’d realized. He considered it as the light turned out, staring up at the ceiling. He could start now. That’d be rude though, to risk waking his classmate up. He gave in eventually. He doubted anyone but him would be able to tell the difference.
┗━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┛
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┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓
He kept to himself as much as he could. No one wanted to speak to him, and he didn’t really want to speak to them either. Even when Miu announced she had a whole virtual world ready for them to jump into, he was fully expecting to just wait in his room for the whole thing to be over. They’d been insistent though, everyone should participate. It was the most they’d even looked at him since the last trial, outside of Shuichi who at least made small talk with him now and then.
It was no surprise, really, when Miu turned up dead, nor was it a surprise that everyone turned to him first. It was handled quickly enough though with Kokichi’s confession and the subsequent turn from grilling Korekiyo to the two that had actually been involved.
He couldn’t bring himself to care much about any of it. Everything had felt somehow barren lately, like the trial had taken a lot out of him and he needed recovery time or something. She hadn’t spoken to him since, and it was like some part of his soul had flown off with her. That night with Shuichi had been a start of new bad habits. He’d taken less care in his appearance, still dressed properly and made himself presentable, but three hours had slowly turned to just one, he’d started tying up his hair when it would be more convenient to do so, he took nights to sleep in whatever way was comfortable enough to even allow him to without dragging up too many dizzyingly worrying trains of thought. He wasn’t doing anything with any of them during Miu’s murder, he knew nothing of the so-called Killing Game Busters’ flashback light, and he didn’t speak at all in the trial once they’d gotten off of his back. He wasted no time going back to his usual spot in the library once it was all finished.
Annoyingly, Shuichi followed him. He just stared for a minute once he’d wandered in, looking down at him with that faintly disturbed expression. “Do you hang out here a lot?”
“I suppose.”
“Isn’t that right, uh… right where we found Rantaro?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, not looking up from his book.
“Don’t you have your lab?”
“Kokichi’s taken to watching it. He likes to pick up weapons and such without my permission and give me ideas for murder attempts. It’s grown irritating.”
“Yeah… Still, Rantaro did die there. I’d be creeped out, even if I am used to bodies and all. Couldn’t you sit on the other side of the room or something?”
He finally closed his book, sighing a little. “He’s haunting the library. His ghost sits here too, or goes back and forth between here and your secret door. I’d rather him have company, and it relaxes me.”
“Oh.” He looked a little surprised, peering around Kiyo like he’d be able to spot a spirit just like that. “Well, that’s nice of you then. Can I sit here?”
“You’ve sort of invited yourself already.” Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind. It was just strange, he wasn’t even sure why he’d followed him in here so quickly. Shuichi sat across from him, legs crossed, unbothered by his slight sarcasm. “Is it about the trial? I had nothing to do with any of it.”
“I know, I know. I’m not pointing any fingers. Just curious. I was a little worried before Kokichi said something, nobody saw you anywhere. Was something else going on?”
“Not really,” he said, his throat closing up slightly. “I was just sitting in one of the rooms. Everyone’s been avoiding me. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t have to shut yourself up somewhere though. It’s fine, obviously, it’s just kind of weird. And I know I’ve been kind of worried about what happened today, somebody trying to vote for you just because of everything with Tenko. It’d really help if you had an alibi.”
“I wanted to,” he said firmly. “I liked one of the rooms. I was trying to speak with my sister there, and I wanted privacy.”
He looked concerned again, and he half regretted telling him at all. “That’s okay. If you wanted privacy or whatever. Has she… can I ask if she’s been mad or something?”
“I haven’t heard from her.” He opened his book again, not really reading, but it focused his attention at least. “Not since my trial.”
“Does that happen sometimes? I mean, if she’s a ghost, maybe it’s just hard for her to ‘get through’ or however that works.” He didn’t seem nearly as upset about it as he would have hoped. Had he not made it clear enough what she was to him, what they were to each other? Had he not been convincing enough?
“I have never had any difficulty hearing her. Not until I said those things, until people started saying such cruel things about her.” He gave Shuichi a pointed look. “Maybe she’s upset. With everyone, with me for not refuting it all quickly enough.”
“I don’t think anybody’s said anything that wasn’t true.”
“They called us disgusting.” He really tried not to be offended. It wasn’t anything new that people were put off by him. He could be plenty disgusting, horrible, perverted, all on his own. He was strange. He always had been. He knew, even if it got to him sometimes. She was none of those things. She was wonderful, and kind, and beautiful, she was perfect. “She was already upset. I don’t remember all of what everyone said, but it was… she was probably quite offended.”
“And you weren’t?” he pressed. “It’d be fine if you were. It just seemed like you got really shaken up by everything. I’m trying to understand.”
“I was upset on her behalf.”
“And before that? She didn’t even really… um, show up, I guess, until the end. It seemed like you were just scared of dying, and that’s what kicked all of that in. She didn’t say anything until then. I think she might have been upset on your behalf.”
The idea made him shiver a little, his fingers wrinkling the corner of the page he held a little. “No. No, I’ve always welcomed death. I want to be with her. And if she had to be upset for me, that would be quite unfair. She was worried for me, and she had to take care of me, I regret that. I was merely worried I might not be able to meet my goal. I’m at 97 girls, remember? I still need three more, if we ever escape this place. It’s sort of out of the question for me now, my options are limited to Maki, and Maki wouldn’t be suited for such things.”
“I mean… Yeah, don’t kill anybody else, please.” He didn’t really seem satisfied. It was that same look he got on his face during investigations, or when a trial was progressing towards its close. He was becoming aware that he’d become his own small case to the detective, which made him more than a little nervous, but it wasn’t as if he really had anything to hide. Merely his sister’s character to defend. “That’s all though. I was just wondering where you were at. Maybe… I know everybody’s been kind of on edge around you, but it might help to be around everybody sometimes. We’re all in this together, and… I think you missed it, but Kokichi revealed himself as the mastermind.”
That piqued his interest more than anything. “Kokichi? That seems a bit too obvious.”
“My thoughts exactly. Anyway, he’s got the Exisals under his control now. Everything’s weird, and everybody’s more worried about looking out for him than anything. So it might be a good time. You should eat dinner with us. We can catch you up on everything.”
He considered it. He’d rather not, but it probably would be best to at least know what was going on. And he had missed people watching. It had all been so quiet without her. “...I’ll be there. I apologize for making you go to all this trouble,” he relented eventually.
“Oh, good. It’s fine. It’s just like Kaede was always talking about though, we’re in this together. That means you too.”
“I suppose it does.”
┗━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┛
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┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓
The whole thing was more pressing than he would have thought it could possibly get, which was saying something considering everything that had happened in the last month or so at this damned school. The fifth trial had worn everyone out enough, now Kiibo seemed to have snapped and was slowly destroying the school.
Shuichi was dragging everyone around with him, looking a bit manic. It was understandable, the whole trial had been even more of a mindfuck than usual, and he had always been close with Kaito. It seemed to be driving him nearly mad by the look in his eyes, frantically running around the building with that notebook of his, pressing them for anything they might have gathered that he’d missed.
“I really think we need to look for cover,” Maki said firmly, though she followed him anyway. She seemed quite well-collected considering everything, but he supposed that made sense with her ultimate. She was even more used to death than he was. “This place wasn’t sturdy to begin with.”
“Somebody’s to blame for all of this. Kaito died for this, Kokichi died for this, Gonta died for this, and we still don’t have anything!” He stopped long enough to begin digging through the lockers they’d all come to this place in, out of breath and shaky. “It’s up to me, this is supposed to be my talent. I’ve been trying to figure this out since before anybody was dead at all. I tried to tell her, I really am useless at this.”
“It’s your talent for a reason,” Tsumugi said, trying to sound encouraging. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“Not like it really matters at this point,” Korekiyo pointed out. “Monokuma is furious. I think we’re all going to be dead before there’s even a chance for another murder.”
“That would mean all of this was pointless. I’m not letting that happen.” He was out of the room before Korekiyo could even begin to guess what he was looking for in the first place, and they all trailed after him again. “It’s one of us, that much is obvious. It’s not me, I know that, but I know that’s not enough evidence to convince anybody. I don’t think it’s Kiibo, he’s out there protecting us from all this as best as he can. Maybe Kiyo, that would explain the rule protecting him. I don’t know. Sorry.” He didn’t seem like he wanted to believe it at least, which was nicer than he would have expected.
“It’s like Maki said after we found Rantaro, I’d rather we look at all of this as objectively as possible. I don’t mind being suspected.”
“He makes a point though. You didn’t even really try to cover up Tenko’s murder before we had the rule,” Tsumugi says.
“I thought it was a fine plan.” Really, it was most certainly not him, but he didn’t really have anything to prove that. “I’d argue it could be Maki, her talent would be suited to it, and she kept quite distant from everyone for a while. She hid it for so long, after all.”
“You hid you were a murderer too. I’ve already explained myself,” she argued.
“We have to worry about everyone now.” Shuichi sounded just as shaken as he had accusing Kaede. He felt a little bad so much of this was up to him. “Try not to argue, I just want to try to sort this out.”
“Okay then, how do we know Tsumugi didn’t fake her stupid cospox?” Maki pressed. “How hard would it be to just paint herself pink?”
Tsumugi flushed at that. “You would insult my passion for cosplay? I can show you all again, just to prove it!”
“We don’t have time,” Shuichi sighed.
“No, I insist. That will be proof of my innocence.” She took the lead then, dragging him by the elbow towards the girl’s bathroom. They all had no choice but to follow, at least it was less exposure to the random explosions shattering the walls all around them.
She wasted no time, trading clothes with Maki before dipping into one of the stalls. Shuichi didn’t seem eager to waste time, though it seemed a little pointless to be looking around in here. He dipped under the sinks anxiously, as if the answer to everything would be written on the underside of the porcelain.
Tsumugi was out in no time, indeed bright pink. “Look!” she insisted, holding out her arm to the two of them still standing there. “Rub it, get it wet, whatever you want! This is real, authentic, genuine cospox.”
He took her up on her offer examining the skin closely. It looked bumpy and irritated, plenty realistic, but it was hard to guess anything. She was the ultimate cosplayer, after all. Maki seemed to have similar thoughts, spitting on the skin before rubbing at it roughly. He would have thought that would have hurt, but Tsumugi seemed preoccupied, yelping a little as she turned to Shuichi. “Don’t go snooping around, this is the girl’s bathroom!”
“We’re already in here, it doesn’t—” he froze as he swung the door open to the utility closet, not even bothering to finish his thought. “Oh my god…”
Korekiyo and Maki quickly abandoned Tsumugi’s arm to peer in after him. It was very clearly not a part of the bathroom, that much was certain. A whole room was open before them, very clearly decorated with corkboards, notes, machinery he couldn’t guess at the purpose of, what seemed like surveillance footage, Monokuma heads everywhere, and another door at the other side. Shuichi wasted no time rushing to it, pushing it open, and… There was the backside of the secret door in the library.
Tsumugi had come in with them at some point, looking just as surprised, though it was a bit laughable with her skin still bright pink. “This must be the mastermind’s! This will help a lot, won’t it Shuichi?”
He didn’t seem to be paying much attention, still staring dumbstruck at the library’s door. He said nothing even as the others began looking around, Maki at the live footage being played across perhaps hundreds of screens, Tsumugi examining the machine, Korekiyo reading through the notes. They were all disjointed, pages and pages on all of them, messy handwriting making little comments and revisions. “Korekiyo…” Shuichi began, still unmoving.
“Yes?”
“Kaede’s trial… Remind me of your alibi. I threw out the notes.”
He frowned a little. He would have thought at least Shuichi was past this, he’d been the only one to bother with him before the others had come around because of Kokichi’s lies. “I was eating supper in the dining hall, as I thought it’d be nice to get a last meal in. The pasta that tasted like a lonely grandmother eating her grandchildren’s birthday cake, or somesuch, remember?”
“Sure, sure, the rest of it though.”
“I was there with a few others. Nothing much happened. We talked some, the only interruption was…” He froze a little himself as he realized, turning to look at Tsumugi, who seemed to be a little more on edge as she listened. “Tsumugi went to the bathroom.”
“You bitch,” Maki snarled, quick across the room to hold a knife to her throat.
“Slow down, slow down, that doesn’t mean anything!” Tsumugi insisted.
“Rantaro didn’t open the door,” Shuichi said, more than a little cold now. “Kaede wasn’t even in the room. She was right all along, wasn’t she? The mastermind had something to do with all of it. That door closed right before we all came in. I’ve timed that door a million times, Rantaro was dead before it was even opened, he had to have been. What did you do?”
“I’m not the mastermind!” she insisted.
“I was with people the whole night. Maki was with Kaito and the others planning to fight. Shuichi was with Kaede, who did not enter the library until after Rantaro was dead. That leaves you and Kiibo, and it seems the only entrance available was in the girl’s restroom.”
“Technically he said he has no gender, since he’s a robot?” she reasoned. “And he is out there trying to kill us all. He was alone in his room that whole night, how is that a better alibi than mine? How could I have known Rantaro was going to be there when he was, even if I wanted to kill him?”
“There’s cameras here,” Shuichi pointed out. “The whole school, multiple angles. That was right before the time limit to start killing. The mastermind would want it to start, wouldn’t they? And he would have been a few feet away, back to the door while he— Oh my god, Kaede didn’t even kill him, did she?” He pressed his hand over his mouth, nearly trembling even as he tried to lay everything out. “I remember, I remember the blood stains looked wrong. Didn’t they? Kiyo, Maki, you’ve both killed people. That ball dropping like that, the blood wouldn’t have sprayed like that, would it? Like he was hit… Like something hit him from behind.”
Maki frowned, seeming to think. “I did think it was strange. But why would she want to be a part of this? What if one of us had killed her?”
“Because none of this is real.” Korekiyo had a hard time believing it even as he said it, but the papers in front of him made it all clear enough, even if he had only been skimming them. “This is… a reality show, or something of the sort. She’s got all sorts of plans, notes, everything,” he said, digging through the pile to find Shuichi’s information. “Your first case was… finding a pet alligator?”
He flushed a little. “It says that?”
He nodded. “And you live with your uncle. Your parents are actors.” He dug through to Maki’s. “You grew up with a girl. You baked with her. She—”
Maki snatched the paper, turning an even brighter shade of pink than Shuichi had. “That doesn’t mean it’s fake. We have amnesia, right? Maybe the mastermind— Maybe Tsumugi wrote it all down before she wiped our memories.”
“No, there’s more.” He pulled the top stack of papers out again, handing them to her. “Everything that’s happened here, plotted and re-plotted, like different drafts for the same story. She calls it ‘seasons’, ‘episodes’, she keeps going on about ‘audience approval’ and ‘character writers’, things like that. She keeps calling Kiibo an ‘Audience Surrogate’.”
It wasn’t long after he was mentioned that Kiibo flew in, looking rather worn out. “You three should really get out of here. It’s getting really nasty. I’m just going to let the whole school come down, maybe you can all escape.”
Maki wasted no time explaining things to him or trying to reason with Tsumugi anymore, pressing the blade more firmly along her throat and slicing across it before dropping her unceremoniously to the floor. Kiibo squeaked in surprise. “She’s the mastermind, don’t worry about it. That sounds risky though, can you manage that without hurting yourself?”
He looked a little torn, still staring at Tsumugi’s corpse. “I… I don’t think so. It’s okay though. Maybe Professor Idabashi can repair me, if you let him know what happened.”
It felt sort of wrong not to tell him, but it was enough to process already. He could hardly handle what she’d written about him, that she’d said his sister was… no, he didn’t have time for that. Maybe he was right anyway. Someone had to have made him. It was either they all died, or they risked Kiibo. “Do your best to be careful. But thank you.”
He nodded, shaking hands with the three of them before flying up again. “Be quick. The place seems like it’s going down anyway.”
And that it did. It had already been in ruins, holes in the walls and ceilings, greenery poking through the floor, but it was worse now than ever before. Not to mention the fire that was everywhere. Maki seemed to be in the best shape out of the three of them, grabbing them both by the wrists and dragging them on her heels. He had half a mind to ask her to stop for a minute, the artifacts in his lab were worth more than the three of them combined, but those probably weren’t real either. Some anthropologist he must be if he hadn’t even noticed.
They were nearly at the barrier around the school when they heard the building crash down behind them. He couldn’t help turning back to stare, it was really the only place he truly knew to be real now, no matter how much he had hated being there. It was somehow more dreadful when the wall keeping them in came crashing down too. He had imagined he would be happy to get out of here, to see the world beyond, but now… He was just sort of afraid of what there really would be.
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It had been nearly a week since they’d left. The world was puzzlingly normal, even if the three of them had laid too low to really know what was still normal or not. They had starred in a TV show, ultimate talents were not real, and they weren’t able to function without the others. Those were the only facts of life they knew now.
Still, it bothered him. He read the papers Tsumugi had written about him every day, and it still couldn’t stick in his mind somehow. His sister still hadn’t said a word to him. He’d slowly grown into worse and worse habits, hardly caring at all what he wore when no one else was around, letting his hair tangle itself up a bit before he went through the tedious task of brushing through it. He even skipped wearing makeup some days. It all made him feel sick, and it was all that damned paper’s fault.
There was nothing to do but go to Shuichi about it.
It wasn’t hard. He shuffled over to his end of the room they had holed themselves up in as soon as Maki drifted off, and he seemed to take the hint well enough. Korekiyo wasn’t exactly social on his own terms. “You need something?” He opted to unfold his paper for the umpteenth time, laying it in front of him. He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud even if he had memorized the information, all written as objective, unarguable fact.
Korekiyo’s sister consistently raped and psychologically abused him since the age of six. He clings to her memory because of his lack of personal identity outside of her. He was driven insane by her death. He hallucinates her spirit inside of his own head as a form of feeling in control through self harm. He fits the archetype of a delusional serial killer.
Shuichi looked uncomfortable reading it all, even if not very surprised. He was quiet for a while, skimming over everything on the page with his lips pursed in a tight frown. He folded it back up to hand to him after a minute or so, adjusting himself into a less relaxed position. “That’s Tsumugi’s backstory for you?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m just not really sure how to… how to approach all of this.”
“Well, you don’t have to if it’s too much, I don’t think. This would be a lot for anybody. But none of it’s real, so I don’t think it should stick around too long now that we’re out of there. I’d hope, anyway.”
“No… If that’s all right, and it has to be, she made us… I don’t want to do what I always do. Whether it’s real or not, it’s all I remember. And I have it here. As a fact. I can’t dismiss this. That’s what’s so horrible about all of this.”
“You want to work on it?” he seemed almost surprised, if not a little pleased.
He hesitated, holding the paper so tightly between his fingers it crinkled a little. “I think so.”
“That’s great!”
“Is it? It seems sort of pointless now. I’ve killed people for her. That’s all I’ve ever done that wasn’t her idea to begin with. What if that’s all I am?”
“No, no, I don’t think so,” he said quickly. “The murder’s definitely not good. But none of those girls were real, other than Tenko, and that technically counts as murder under duress, not to mention you could plead insanity. Not that you’re crazy, of course. But we barely even know each other, and I think you’re plenty more than that. You’re really smart, and you’ve gotta be more passionate about your talent than anybody that was there. You’re patient about explaining it all too, and even ignoring everything else with your sister, it sounds like you were really sweet taking care of her like you did. You’re plenty of things outside of her, Kiyo.”
It hurt, somehow. More than degradation, more than torture, more than the sinking feeling that his time lying to himself about everything was coming to an end. He didn’t think anyone had ever said anything like that to him since his sister had died. “I don’t think I’ll be very good at it. At any of it. At first.”
“I don’t think anybody is,” he reasoned. “You’ve already done a lot though, if all she wrote about you was true. Even just you sleeping in my room with me the way you did, or trusting us to be around you. You’ve been putting up your hair a lot. I haven’t seen you trying to talk to her as much. It’ll take a while, but I think you’re doing just fine. You came to me about this, that’s more than you could’ve done when we first started talking.”
It really was. It was a bit of a startling realization, if not a welcome one. “You really think I could manage it? Even this far into being like this?”
“I think so. We’ll help you too. As much as you want it. I think we’ll all need to back each other up from here on out anyway.”
It was against every rational sense he had, but he found himself hugging Shuichi. “Thank you.”
He laughed a little, patting him awkwardly on the back, though he seemed more surprised than uncomfortable. “Of course. I’m glad you got there in the end, even if it took some crazy murder game to do it.”
It was still overwhelming, even if the two of them did help. Every day he strayed further from her was frightening, he felt sick with guilt whenever he caught himself thinking of something besides her still, but it was better. Every little step he felt closer to being one of the humans he so adored, even kept to the small room the three of them stayed in. Now that he had friends, one hundred seemed like a bit of an excessive amount anyway. He would do just fine with his two.
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