Chapter Text
If I’d had my way this tunnel would’ve had a travelator, but the set designers had been worried about budget of all things. They’d built the most expensive real-time set in the world, rivalling the money spent on goddamn Love Island. LOVE ISLAND FOR DANGANS SAKE. It boggled the mind that they’d want to cut corners on something as simple as a travelator just because the audience wouldn’t see it. As it stood I was forced to take the long walk from the toilets to the command centre at a run to ensure I made it in time to see the murder play out. It was important I was there to confirm exactly how it happened so my reactions could be genuine, though it wouldn’t leave me much time to get back. Needs must though and so I ran as fast as I could.
So far everything had come together as planned with Kaede playing her role to perfection. In a matter of minutes our trap was poised to set the whole killing game fully into motion. When that happened I would finally be free to let myself relax a little. At least before Chapter 2 got under way, since aside from throwing in a few red herrings here and there the rest of Chapter 1 should be a cakewalk for me. The majority of the burden was on Kaede and Shuichi for this one, though it wasn’t like any of the trials were going to be all that stressful for me. I had too much behind the scenes work to do for me to be on for the whole time I was on camera. It wasn’t easy being the Ultimate Cosplayer 24/7, no matter how easily it came to me.
I arrived at my home away from home and it looked like I’d made it. Rantaro hadn’t shown up yet so I had time to get ready. I had the emergency override button ready in case the bookcase didn’t open. I had double-checked that the shot-put would roll to the right place, even had to move a couple books because Kaede didn’t quite get the placement right. That was okay. Everything was perfect now. I still couldn’t shake the feeling I’d missed something but that was normal with something like this. I’d even done the unthinkable and consulted with another writer on the set-up (one that was as much of a fan I was and who I trusted not to leak anything) but they said it was rock-solid. They even complimented me on the scenario. I really respected their stuff so hearing that should’ve been the last nail in the coffin of my doubts, but still my own brain gnawed at me relentlessly.
Rantaro pushed open the door, closing me off from that uneasy feeling. He approached the bookcase and my anticipation hammered at me in a fast but steady heart-beat rhythm. He activated the bookcase and the camera flashed. Perfect. He approached the offending camera inquisitively, not knowing what fate had in store for him. Perfect. He stood on the imaginary ‘x’ I’d drawn with my mind. Perfect. I saw the ball roll out of the air-vent and down the slope. Perfect. It was happening. I’d done it. I was almost beside myself with joy. You’re done for now Mr. Ultimate Survivor. Perfect?
Something clicked into my mind and my joy turned to ash in my mouth as I was forced to watch my worst fears come to life in almost perfect slow-motion. Pathetically and helplessly I stared on in horror as the ball tipped over the edge and fell in a pure and simple straight line down towards the floor, meeting only the resistance of air and not the resistance of Rantaro’s stupid head. The imaginary ‘x’ laughed at me. I almost cried. The world spun. A cold emptiness flooded into me as I stood agape at my monumental fuck-up. I tried so hard. I really did. I did it perfectly. I double-checked the path the ball was going to take I really really tried. Oh god.
The realisation of what needed to happen next was like ice water poured over me. I glanced over at the spare shot-put, swallowing hard. I was unsure as to whether I could, but the cold reality of it all hard to started to press in on me, reminding me the cost of not doing; not seeing this thing through now that I had finally made it to where I’d always wanted to be. I knew what I had to do because it was the first lesson every stage actor learnt. The show must go on.
With only seconds to act I grabbed the shot-put and ran to the door, slamming my palm into the override and running out in a mad-dash. Rantaro was staring absent-mindedly at the ceiling, still processing what had happened as I slammed the heavy ball into the back of his head. The blood splattered onto me. My heart hammered harder in my chest, threatening to burst out of its cage. I felt myself throw the ball to the side. I felt myself pick up the new spare. I felt my legs move one after the other back towards the bookcase. I felt my palm press again on the override as everything settled back into place. I wiped away the blood with a spare towel and quickly changed my outer clothes. It was only then that I allowed myself a heavy sigh of relief before starting yet another dash back towards the toilets. I’d done it. I’d fixed my mistake. Everything was still on track. Everything was still perfect.