Chapter Text
Early in the morning, but she couldn't tell what time.
…
“A secret exit, huh…?” She recounted what Nyanus said. She didn't believe it, she didn't want to, but there was this tingling sensation in her stomach that told her to.
Then she remembered her brother. For four days straight, he kept telling everybody to get on their feet and search for the exit, but it was almost like none of them cared at all. Did they not have a family to worry about? Not friends, or lovers, or anything? Did they immediately accept their situation?
Her brother was working so hard to find that exit, but why wasn't she? Why couldn't she do something for once? She's just letting him do all the hard work of proving himself, but he's the Absolute Prosecutor, what is she?
That's right, a barista. She was the one who needed to prove herself. If push came to shove, what was she going to do? Wait for others to order her around because that was her job?
That's stupid. It's all stupid. She's-
Rustle.
A sound from her door snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned her head at it slowly — A piece of folded paper, just staring innocently at her. No ill intentions, not one thing suspicious, nothing at all… at least to her. It seemed blank, but it obviously had something written on it, if the slight indentations on the paper wasn't enough to tell you that.
She was tired, maybe she even wiped a tear away from her cheek last night. There was the slightest hope that it was from her brother, saying they should talk again. She got down from her bed and picked up the paper, opened it, then read the contents:
“Dear Himari,
I think I might've found something really important in classroom 1-C. It might be a way outta here. If you get over here as soon as you can, you might be able to help everyone escape.
- Signed, Reiji~ ♡”
She crumpled the sides of the paper without noticing, staring blankly at the words. They shouldn't mean something, she wasn't the one searching for an exit — but it would've meant something to her brother. If it was important to her brother, it was important to her too. She didn't need her brother to want to escape… But she wasn't trying as hard as he was.
If she did one thing that could make him actually look her in the eye for once in her life, maybe they could finally be family again.
Because they're twins, right?
“I…” She almost said her thoughts out loud, but when no one was around to hear it, she shut her mouth. Not like anyone would've, anyway. Folding the paper, she placed it in her pocket, and without thinking too much about it, opened her unlocked door, and headed for the classroom.
Quiet.
That's all she could use to describe the hallway. Maybe even “echoe-y”, but that wasn't an actual word.
Kutsuki-san said… over here. She thought as she counted her steps that lead her towards the destination.
With a sigh, she opened the door.
Roll…
Thud.
“Hey, girl,” Kutsuki greeted, his signature smile on display. “Glad you came.”
“…You said something about an exit, right, Kutsuki-san?”
“Straight to the point. Yup, just as I said in the letter.”
“Well…” Her brows furrowed slightly. She didn't notice, but he did. “Why did you call me? Couldn't Moichi come?”
“Oh, him? You see, he's rather… uptight,” It was almost like he was clenching his teeth at that last word, but no matter. “Probably wouldn't even believe me. But you trust me, right?”
The last sentence didn't register. “Yeah… he wouldn't.”
Kutsuki’s smile grew just a bit. “The exit's right over there… In that closet.”
She raised her head, and stared at the closed door.
Breathe in, and out. It has to have the exit… Then Moichi will… We'll get out of here.
The two walked over to the other side, with Kutsuki right behind.
“Is there anything else you found? Did you open it?”
“It's screwed tight. Couldn't find a screwdriver here.”
“Ah… Maybe the cover of my vial could do the trick… We'll have to try.”
“Mm, that's right.”
“I'm not exactly suited for this, but I'll try to get it open… It seems like a vent from the sounds of it, right?”
“Correct. It's big, we can both fit there.”
“That's… good, I guess.”
He didn't stop smiling… but a shadow blanketed his eyes, making him look more soulless.
“…You know something?” Kutsuki said, tapping his back.
“Hm?”
“You’re a… good person, but… you never treated your brother right, did you?”
“Wh-What do you mean—”
Sharp. Cold. Red. Pain.
He moved so quickly, she didn't even notice.
But was it only his speed that blindsided her?
Maybe it was his charm, his looks, his tone, his everything.
Stupid. That's what she was.
Stupid. Why didn't you notice?
“Shh…” He took out whatever he stabbed her in the stomach with, every single cold molecule of it tingling the organs inside her body as it made its way out. The wound writhed, as if the flesh was desperately trying to become one again.
Blood was on the wall. Her blood. It dyed her apron, her sweater, her pants — Everything on her turned red. It was only red. It was all red. It will stay red.
She didn't let anything out — not a yelp, not a scream, not even a breath escaped her lips. It was like she was a statue, but the sharp pain kept reminding her she was human. A fragile one.
He gently pushed her down, the red liquid dragging downwards on her back. Down they went until they were both level with each other, just closer to the ground.
Her mouth opened, her throat clung onto every word that made its way out of her mind. She couldn't die here, and if she did, she wouldn't until he told her:
“Wh…” Weakness set in, and quickly. “Why did you do this…?”
“Why?” He repeated to her. “Why did you not do anything?” Why did he flip the question to her?
“Why did…?” Poor girl, can't even finish her sentence.
“Hm, it's not my fault. I'm just going with the flow — the flow of the killing game.”
Right. This is the bunker where if you murder and get away with it, you could leave.
This is a killing game.
“I didn't do this, you did.”
“N-N…” Poor girl, can't even get a word out.
“Why didn't you do anything? He was there, feeling like a burden, and all you did was sit beside him.”
“I…”
“If you cared, you would do more, but you didn't. Now you care, but about the wrong thing. If you didn't care so much about what he thought of you, maybe… you would've been able to get out of here alive.”
“...” Poor girl, can't even get a breath out.
“Listen,” That's all she could do anyway. “You're the one that did this. You decided to be selfish. Would you have told him about this exit if it were real? Why didn't you call him before coming here?”
“...”
“Exactly,” Of course, he used her silence as an answer, because that was all that was left in her lungs. Does she even know her own answer? “So, how does it feel knowing you could never make up anymore? Because of your selfishness? You're twins, you should've been there for each other, right?”
“...”
“Mhm.” He smirked, an odd expression for him.
The lens of his glasses were white, reflecting the light above, but it shouldn’t even be possible at that angle. It hid his eyes, which wouldn't even have an ounce of emotion behind them anyway. Right now, that's the only trait they share, and will ever share.
As her consciousness began to fade, he wasn't a person to her anymore, he was just a concept — The idea of someone that she used to care about, even if it was surface-level. A figure that barely resembled a human, the only thing clear was his heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses.
The knife dropped from his hands.
Clink.
That’s the sound. Heavier than she expected, like it carried all her regrets.
Void seeped around her vision like mold taking over rotting leftovers, something she would be extremely familiar with.
Because that's all she is —
A barista.
Kutsuki placed his fingers over her eyes, that smile stuck on his face — disingenuous and fake. She wanted to call out somebody, anybody, but no matter how much she tried and tried, all she could get out was more of her remaining strength. She couldn't feel her body twitch anymore. The wound stopped hurting, but all that did was serve as a reminder of her doom.
“I really didn't want to do this, y’know?” He winked, as if he gave out a second autograph without charging extra. “I'm sorry, Moichi… Your sister failed you again.”
Why did he apologize to her brother, and not his victim? The one that had a knife plunged in her stomach?
…
Maybe she really didn't matter. No one thinks of the barista as a person, just… something to talk to. Something to abuse.
That scar on her back is proof.
And now the wound in her stomach is another.
Before he dragged her eyelids down like a final curtain call, he left her with one last sentence, something that should've been said by someone that mattered to her:
“Goodbye, Himari.”