#apexplot
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#19)
I don’t know where I expect to find him or if I should even move around to find him, but here I go, anyway.
“Monochap!!”
I turn the corner to the main hall before I find him.
“O-oh, Kakumi!”
“Were you calling for me...?”
I keep charging towards him.
“U-uwah?!”
“I need answers, and you're going to give them. Your ability to carry out your precious game hinges on it. Got it?”
“......”
“I don’t understand...”
“You will.”
“Um... Okay...?”
At some point the cafeteria doors must have opened again, because Aidan and Ichiriki have joined us at a distance. Neither has said anything, somehow. Maybe they can button it long enough for me to get this done.
“So. Let’s start with this: the bodies of the killers and victims were kept alive long enough for the fourth motive. All of them. Right?”
Monochap straightens up, like he hadn’t been expecting something he could actually answer.
“Oh, um! That’s correct, yes!”
“But you only gave that motive one chance, so when Aidan was selected, there was no need to keep the others alive.”
“I-I guess so?”
There’s enough murmuring going on to distract me now, but only for a second. Kanagi and Tsunyasha have stopped at the far side of the main hall, just past the dried paint splashes. I don’t quite make eye contact with them before locking onto Monochap again.
“Next point. Where were they being kept?”
“U-um... Where we needed them to be?”
“Be more specific.”
“It’s somewhere on campus, right? No need to take unnecessary risks moving bodies around, and you can sure keep the electricity on here. Guessing your miracle machinery needs a lot of juice.”
“Probably, mm-hmm...”
Well. I can’t expect him to know all the technical details. Why program your robot with any knowledge it doesn’t need for its task?
“Were they in Lab Room A? That’s the only reason it would still be blocked off—that room specifically, for the entire time we’ve been here.”
“.........”
Fine, be that way. Guess I don’t need that specific an answer, anyway.
“Let’s move on, then.”
Someone else peeks in through the dormitory doors but remains silent. I don’t look long enough to determine who it is. All eyes on Monochap.
“You’re not permitted to hurt anyone who hasn’t broken the rules—which the victims wouldn’t have broken just by dying. So if they were taken off their ‘life support,’ it had to have been the young master’s doing. Because you can’t break that rule.”
“U-um, I guess that would be right...”
“So then.”
“When the fourth motive was no longer in place, the young master ended the lives of some of their fellow students on the Apex Academy campus.”
“Isn’t that grounds for a class trial?”
The words hang in the air. I hear fabric shift somewhere, but I’m still tunnel-visioned on Monochap.
This is it. The logical conclusion. Maybe there are holes in my argument somewhere. A loose link, some loophole—but that doesn’t matter if we can settle this before someone points it out.
So what will Monochap do? If he’s programmed above all else to follow the rules of the game, he has no choice but to cooperate.
“E-eh?!”
“Could that really...”
“WHY are we all CLUSTERED here like GAPING PEONS?”
“Dude, you were here first.”
Monochap’s nervous shifting from foot to foot sends metal rattling.
“But, but...!”
“The investigation is supposed to start when a dead body has been discovered...”
Ah. I really should’ve reread the exact rules before starting this. “But...”
“But a dead body has been discovered!”
I blink and back up as Aidan approaches.
“Eh?! When?”
“Not long after their deaths.”
“It wasn’t for an excessive span of time, but I regained consciousness earlier than anticipated—isn’t that right?”
“A-are you sure?”
“Yes. The others hadn’t been removed yet—but they had already been killed a second time. Naturally, it would've been an immense waste of resources to keep them alive any longer than necessary.”
“......”
I don’t know if Aidan actually remembers this, or if he’s just making stuff up that no one can prove. I'm not turning down the help either way.
“Dude, you’re telling me we coulda had a trial, like... forever ago?”
Kanagi charges forward, and I’m tempted to stick a foot out in case she lunges at him. Wouldn’t end well for whatever ankle I hit, though.
“But, um...! You don’t really know if—!”
“Wasn’t all that, like, super forever ago? So we totally shoulda been hunting down the master-dude before Yuki ever pulled her crap?”
She hasn’t thrown any punches, but she leans in close to Monochap’s face.
“You owe us bad. You owe us this thing, and you—”
“You owe us Kaich back. Give ‘im.”
“A-ah, but, but! Kaichi was never put on the machine!”
“Especially by now, he’s, um, not really...”
Before Kanagi can think too hard about where that sentence is going, I attempt to step between them.
“Then you definitely owe us this investigation and trial.”
“It’s time to put an end to this.”
[BACK] [NEXT]
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#17)
“.......”
“...”
“........”
It is... definitely too late to hide anyone from anyone here. This is happening. Now. Apparently.
I gingerly grip Mahavir’s shoulder. Feels like I’m taking sides I shouldn’t, but it’s not like Tsunyasha would let me do this. And she’s at less risk of falling over or fainting.
...Probably.
“E... Excuse me.”
He attempts to shuffle forward, but there’s still a whole room between him and the Nurse’s Office.
“Are you addressing me, whelp?”
“......”
I take a deep breath.
“He just needs to get to the Nurse’s Office. Did you have business there?”
“I need no business to go where I please.”
“Okay, then were you just going there?”
“Perhaps I shall. Would that suffice to drive you fools away?”
“.......”
I see his lips move, but whatever he says is beyond hearing.
“Mahavir?”
“.........”
Though he still has to move his head slowly, he looks up at her more properly. The hand that isn’t propping him against the wall clenches.
“...Will you?”
“...”
What, go to the Nurse’s Office?
“Will you... excuse me?”
“Will you ever...”
He doesn’t manage to finish, but he’s said enough.
Can he ever be excused for what he did? Not just in general, but by the very person he hurt? The only one who can really absolve him, whatever the rest of us may try to say.
“......”
She takes a slow step forward and stops there.
“Hmph. You think I would pardon a foolish whelp of anything?”
“I am she who passes holy judgment, sinner. None of you will be excused by my hand, except perhaps from this world.”
It’s all such standard Tsunyasha-speak. Does it even matter that Mahavir’s the one asking? Does she not want to think about what happened—what happened right here, in fact—or is it so aggressively blocked out that she doesn’t even know it happened?
But for a second, I know I saw...
...distress. And though she and Mahavir didn’t get along before this, she’s never had quite that reaction.
So...
Is this how she really feels?
“Well? Do you wish to grovel, worm? It may not change your fate, but it would be amusing.”
“.......”
I sure hope it’s intentional when he falls to his knees.
“Ah—”
I lose my grip on his shoulder, but maybe it’s for the best. This is between him and Tsunyasha, even if she acts completely unaffected. Should I be here at all?
Well. I shouldn’t be leaving my probably-not-concussed burn victim patient unattended, anyway, so not worth debating the ethics on that.
I avert my gaze, at least, but it’s still easy enough to picture their faces. Especially with Mahavir’s voice more gravelly by the minute.
“I have wronged you... terribly. If I truly cannot be forgiven, then... I... understand.”
“......”
He pauses, probably to un-grit his teeth.
“Likewise, if there is no way to atone... I understand.”
“But if there is anything... anything... that I could do to make things right... even the smallest bit...”
“Please...”
I dare a look at Tsunyasha.
“...”
“Hardly.”
“—!”
“Amusing though your pathetic display may be, you mortals can never hope to redeem yourselves from your fates.”
“I am not talking about some ambiguous ‘mortals’! I am talking about myself, and what I personally... am responsible for...!”
“...”
I can’t tell if she’s thinking or waiting.
“About... what I did to you... right here. How I... hurt you...!”
“Silence.”
“...!”
“Men like you shall NOT tell me what did and did not happen.”
“As if you could lay a single hand on the Holy Assassin! Foolishness!”
She takes a silent step sideways, opposite the wall Mahavir slumps against.
“Perhaps you ought to stay on your knees for the rest of your short life. A posture befitting such an insignificant worm.”
She strides past us without another hitch.
...”Men,” huh? Was that just a synonym for “mortal,” or...
“.......” I’m overthinking this.
I finally turn to look at Mahavir instead. He isn’t in tears, but he did sound like it. Suppressed coughing, maybe.
“...........”
“...”
I give him a minute, but he can only calm down so much.
“...Mahavir.”
“.......”
“Are you able to get up? I still need to get you to the Nurse’s Office.”
“...........”
He can’t actually intend to stay there until Tsunyasha tells him otherwise, can he? That wasn’t a real olive branch she gave him, it was just...
I don’t know, exactly. It’s not like I’m in her head. I’m just suddenly afraid I might understand some part of her better than I thought. But I could be dead wrong.
I sure hope so.
Mahavir stays silent long enough I crouch down to make sure he’s still with us. It takes a while, and a lot of pulling on my part, but I manage to coax him back to his feet. He still doesn’t say a word.
No one...
No one is happy with this. Not me, not him, and I know Tsunyasha can’t be, either. Not in any meaningful way, at least.
“...Mahavir.”
I speak as I slowly guide him forward. His footfalls are dull, ominous thuds.
“She’s not ready yet. That’s all.”
“...........”
“She may not be able to process what happened.”
“I don’t know how long it will take.” Don’t know if it will ever happen, but that’s not a helpful point right now.
“But... she might have a better answer for you someday. A real one.”
“No point trying to force it before then.”
I open the door, the faint lemon-cleaner-and-antiseptic smell wafting out.
“Let’s just make sure you can both make it to that point, okay?”
“..............”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t fight me as I lower him onto a cot.
Guess he needs time to process, too.
...Don’t we all.
[BACK] [NEXT]
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#18)
Lunch is my first remotely decent excuse to leave Mahavir’s side. As much as I’d like to support my friend, watching him stew in his guilt sure isn’t helping me. Which means I’m not helping him much, either.
I confirm he’s staying in the Nurse’s Office, then trek back to the cafeteria. No Tsunyasha, at least.
“Oh, GREAT! JUST when I thought I might get some PEACE AND QUIET!”
“Right, I’m the threat to that here.”
I flee to the kitchen before he can manage a coherent response. No idea what I want to eat, though, and Mahavir certainly didn’t have suggestions. Time to stand blankly in front of an open refrigerator and hope it hikes up the young master’s electric bills.
Unfortunately, it’s also cold, so I grab some cheese and deli meat and shut the door before too long. After a few moments’ contemplation, I decide I’m not in the mood for any more meal-making decisions, so I’ll just make rollups of these. Bread’s overrated, anyway.
“...And so are condiments, I guess.”
Whatever. I’m sticking with it.
...And standing in the kitchen to eat so I don’t have to hear whatever Ichiriki’s raving about now. Is he just bored? Does he need some new colors of chalk for a little enrichment?
Well. I make fun of him, but I sure wouldn’t mind access to the art room again. No chance of that unless someone else uses it for a murder, though.
“...”
I finish my food and make Mahavir a plate. Can’t imagine him having any remnant of an appetite right now, but might as well try.
Unfortunately, the cafeteria’s still the only exit from here.
Maybe I should run.
Or actually check on Ichiriki, I guess. Gotta admit, “Is Ichiriki doing okay” is not a thought that’s crossed my mind much. He’s just... He just is. I don’t know. He’s free to leave with the rest of us if he is one of us, but until then... Not my problem. Got enough of those already.
So, a fine brisk pace it is.
But when I step out, Ichiriki is no longer alone.
“...sure you wouldn’t be interested?”
“Of COURSE NOT! The FIRST one was bad ENOUGH!”
“But you’re curious, aren’t you?”
“No!”
“Just a little bit?”
“MAYBE!”
“........”
Think I’m good to just. Slink on out of here unnoticed.
“Ah, Miss Kogamino!”
Assuming Aidan wouldn’t notice something was a bad call on my part. “Do I want to know what I’m missing over here?”
“You ABSOLUTELY don’t!”
Not sure why I asked. Really striking out on logical behavior today.
“Not another weird dream, I hope?”
“No...”
“...Or at least not one of my own! There’s no telling where the writers got their inspiration, of course.”
Ichiriki mentioned “the first one”...
“Ah. The movie sequel.”
“.............”
More words are said, but I’m so distracted I can’t even tell who spoke. With current company, that’s really saying something.
Another dream... What was it that I...
“Hang on.”
I turn around to retrieve my little “young master deductions”—like you could really call them that—notebook and flip to the last filled pages, the letters askew and distorted from drowsiness and poor lighting.
Flashback dreams... Yeah, I sure do have those sometimes.
But not just me.
I wheel on Aidan and slap my hands on the table to catch myself, interrupting whatever I end up interrupting.
“Aidan! Your dream!”
The boys break off their conversation with widely varying levels of offended sputtering. Aidan adjusts his glasses.
“Er. The ‘professional air traffic controller’ one, or something else?”
“The one you told me about the other day.” Yesterday? I don’t even know anymore.
“You woke up in a mirror of Lab Room A, right?”
“Within the dream? Yes, that sounds accurate.”
The table’s edge digs into my palms.
“What if that was real?”
He hums.
“I suppose it’s entirely possible. There must be a Lab Room B, after all, even if we’ve yet to be allowed inside.”
“And I’m sure I would have been kept somewhere on-campus to minimize risk of discovery by unrelated parties.”
“Which is probably why we haven’t been let inside, right? If the young master’s cutting-edge revival technology, or whatever, was in there...”
I lean in further, much to Ichiriki’s offense. Don’t care.
“Were any of the other students there in the dream? Can you remember?”
“I hate to report that dreams are partially immune from my perfect memory skills here, but... Let’s see.”
Ichiriki grumbles to himself, but at least he’s not yelling over us. Probably doesn’t know what to say. I’ll take it.
“I can’t guarantee that the other fallen students were present.”
“But I am certain that the life support systems and such did not take up the entirety of the room. There was space for other beds, or whatever you'd call the thing I was lying on.”
“So, if all of you were hooked up before that motive vote, and only before it, and if you’re the only one who was—then—!”
I think he responds, but I’m busy swinging my head around to check every corner of the room. Not here. Wasn’t in the kitchen. But if I’m right...
Dizzy, I try to remember to breathe as I charge into the hallway.
“MONOCHAP! I need to talk to you, now!”
[BACK] [NEXT]
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#16)
I check up on Mahavir first thing, then breakfast. There’s time to eat something warm before I worry about what to take back to him. Or should I be worrying about what everyone’s eating? Considering the distribution of cooking skills at this point.
Which I will never get used to.
Either way, I don’t go for anything more exciting than instant miso and a banana. By the time I'm out of the kitchen, Aidan’s started his own soup at his table.
Or, at least he’s staring at a spoonful of it.
“.......”
“You, uh. Need me to throw that back in the microwave, or.”
“...”
He stares a moment longer before blinking and actually meeting my eye.
“Oh, no, it should be fine as is. I just need to muster up the appetite for it, haha.”
He resumes staring. Don’t see any mustering happening here.
“Maybe the Nurse’s Office has something to help with appetite? I’ll go check.”
He quickly drops the spoon in favor of an enthusiastic “cut it out” gesture.
“No, no, no! There’s no need to fuss over my precise pace of eating.”
"I need to grab something for Mahavir, anyway, so it’s not much fuss. One sec.”
I set my stuff down and take off before Aidan can stop me.
“Fuss, huh?” I’m thinking there’s not enough fuss over that guy. Too injured to use more than one limb and still trying to lead the whole march himself?
Though he may be the most put-together mentally. Doesn’t completely override the physical context, though.
...
I swipe Mahavir’s burn ointment first.
“Not much left, is there.”
But it should be fine, right? As fine as it was ever going to be by itself. He needs proper medical attention.
And Kanagi broke her ankle, and Tsunyasha... suffered. No telling what kind of damage we’re looking at all around.
We have to get out of here.
But I can’t get caught up thinking that. I’ll do what I can do, right now.
There aren’t many relevant drawers to check, so it doesn’t take long to find an appetite stimulant.
“Okay. Good.”
Aidan’s health problems sure won’t improve if he doesn’t eat, so. There’s this.
I drop it off. Aidan’s protests die down quickly, now that the fuss has already been made. He thanks me unhappily, and I leave him to it as I eat my own breakfast.
Hard to say how much difference the meds make. Not sure how long they’re supposed to take to kick in, even. But by the time I’ve put up my dishes and put together something for Mahavir, half of Aidan’s soup is gone. It’s something.
Enough that he reminds me not to forget the ointment I left on the table. Genuinely none of us are all here anymore, huh.
No need to dwell on that, though. Places to be, people to see.
Knock, knock.
“Mahavir? Brought your food.”
“...”
“.......”
About two seconds before I can start panicking, I hear heavy footfalls. Not heavy enough to be a whole person falling down, but not much better.
Maybe I should have him rest somewhere else until curfew. Then he won’t have to keep opening the door for me.
But he manages this time.
“......”
I start to hold out his plate but don’t quite make it there.
“Hey. Think you’re in shape to move back to the Nurse’s Office?”
“...”
“If not, don’t push it.”
“.....”
“Perhaps...”
Extremely convincing.
“How about we just see how you feel after breakfast?”
He nods.
At least I don’t have to feed him by hand, but he doesn’t eat with much gusto.
Head trauma’s the last thing he needs when he was already full of burns to repair. As far as I could tell, he at least doesn’t have a concussion. Unless he did pass out those few moments I was too busy thinking Kanagi had just killed him, but he swears otherwise. Not like his treatment would be much different, anyway.
“.....”
So it won’t do me any good to dwell on what happened yesterday. Just... keep up with today.
Mahavir gets through his breakfast eventually, and after a considerable effort on my part to make sure, he promises he can walk to the Nurse’s Office. So away we go.
I pause as we pass the cafeteria door.
“Actually, I’ll drop off the dishes while we’re here. Wait outside?”
“Of course.”
I hop inside, wave hello to Kanagi, dump the dishes, and hurry out before Mahavir can go on without me.
He’s already gone on without me.
“You’d better at least be headed where I said we were going.”
Watching my step for any paint splatters that might still come up, I turn the corner to the main hall, but apparently Mahavir’s made it past here, too.
Well, vanishing is less concerning than collapsing a few steps in front of me.
Marginally.
I take the final corner, and...
“Good, there you are.”
But he doesn’t respond—just stands there stiffly. I assume it’s a pain or disorientation issue, until I look again.
No one moves.
[BACK] [NEXT]
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#15)
I manage not to kill Mahavir within the next few hours, and by curfew he’s in decent enough shape to rest in his own room. Thankfully mine isn’t much farther. I clean up for the night and lie down.
“...........”
Thoughts still swirl. Am I doing what I need to be doing, or what somebody else needs to be doing, or do I need to be doing anything more than resting, or does anyone, or...
No attempt at an answer sticks for long. For once I’m tired enough to slip into sleep without any proper agonizing.
...
I can’t breathe.
It’s the trial room. People are talking. Don’t know what they’re saying. Someone’s laughing. Might be me. But it can’t, because I can’t breathe. Am I even standing? Can’t tell. Floor doesn’t seem real. All that feels real is...
Knife at my throat. Again? No, this is the first time. What? What am I talking about?
But I can’t be talking because I can’t breathe.
I don’t know how long it is. Where I am. Too dark. Grip on my shoulder, can’t shake. Let go. Let go. Let—
“—!”
Everything's dark. I’m too wound up to move.
Takes a while to realize I’m lying in bed, awake.
“.......”
Another while before I shift away from the part of my pillow soaked in sweat. Not so much I need another shower, but enough to send another chill down my neck.
Then finally I register that I should be breathing right now. I work on that for a minute.
“......”
Hate it. Hate that. Aren’t hazy nightmares bad enough? The ones you can’t remember at all, or the ones that only seem real until you’re awake enough to realize they're complete nonsense? Why do some have to draw straight from...
Well. Worse memories it could've been, but...
“...............”
Mechanically I get myself a drink of water before wandering back toward my bed, still in the dark. Still in a trance. Miracle I don’t stub toes.
“........”
If dreams are memories...
“.............”
I’m on the verge of something, but I’m not awake enough to get there. I just scribble the half-thought into my young master notebook and crawl back into bed.
[BACK] [NEXT]
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#6)
The rest of the day is basic survival activities and a look around campus to check for any newly opened doors. Not hard to do quickly when the locked ones have enough wood nailed across them to start a good bonfire.
Can’t decide if this is better or worse. There could be useful things in those rooms, or at least something new to focus on, but...
...It’s also a break in the routine. The young master can’t keep opening up a new floor after every murder when there are only so many floors, but they could have at least unlocked one of these, right? Opening doors one by one would see us through a couple more rounds. And by then there wouldn’t be enough people left to keep the game going.
So it has to end eventually. Does keeping those doors locked mean the time is near? Or is there just too much of a threat to the young master behind them?
“Be great to be hopeful, but...”
Any which way, this can’t go on much longer.
I wrap up by heading to the main hall, just in case the front door is miraculously unlocked and we simply hadn’t checked, but I hear sloshing before I turn the corner.
“Hmm?”
I don’t smell blood—though there’s some smell I can’t identify immediately—so I slowly poke my head out from the other side of the wall. Ahead, at the mountainous mural that first greeted us here...
With something a little too low to be called a shriek, Kanagi slams a gush of black paint into the wall. It’s too thick to spread far, but it still reaches out to block a swath of actual painting with its spidery, globby fingers.
Her only companion at the moment scoffs.
“You call THAT ‘destruction’? PATHETIC!”
With a near-matching jug in his own grasp—can he even lift that with his toothpick arms?—Ichiriki flings a thinner layer of white paint across the wall like a fast-moving, dripping cloud.
“Yeaaaahhhhh!!”
“Dare I ask.”
Despite what is apparently just the beginning of the chaos, Ichiriki manages to notice me.
“Oh GREAT, one of the STICKS-in-the-mud.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, Kakumi!”
“You wanna come, like, distaste some property or whatever?”
“I TOLD you, we ONLY have the two of these, imbecile!”
“There’s, like, this thing called ‘taking turns’?”
“That is paint, isn’t it? Did you get back into the Art Room somehow?”
“Of COURSE we didn’t. These are from MY study hall, thank you very much.”
“But that isn’t chalk...” Yeah, genius observation. Good job.
“WHAT, you’ve never heard of PRIMING a canvas? UN-believable!”
No response would satisfy him, anyway, so I don’t bother. Apparently he doesn’t always draw straight onto the pavement? Not that I remotely care.
“Exactly what are you trying to make with two colors, anyway?”
“Yo, there’s plenty you can do with two colors! Penguins, and soccer balls, and boxer dogs, and those, like...”
“...”
“...capyzebra dudes!”
“Ca...”
“That CLEARLY wasn’t even the QUESTION, you toad.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“You here to complain ‘r wreck some crap?”
“YES!”
They turn back to the mural—or what’s left of it—to resume slinging paint. I back up before any spatter can get me. Or, well, I think some already got me, but black won’t show on this dress.
I’m not sure at this point who’s trying to create or destroy or whatever combination of the two, but that’s art for you, I guess. May the old mural rest in pieces.
Wonder how much Apex Academy paid for that. Maybe a student did it instead? Though with the students in this place, that’d only make it worth more. Well, no telling now.
“Yo, you want a shot at it, dude?” She offers me her half-empty jug.
“Think I’m good... Didn’t exactly bring a good smock with me.”
“Boooo.”
“Oh, the COWARD can do whatever she WANTS!”
“But I am SICK and TIRED of this thing! GOOD! RIDDANCE!”
And there’s nothing left for me to do but stand and watch from a safe distance. The paint smell grows and stark spatters cross and drip and splash back, swallowing up piece by piece the first thing I ever saw inside this building.
“.........”
Good riddance, huh? I’d rather get out of the building than get rid of it, but... Can’t say it’s unsatisfying to watch.
On that note, I drift back to check the door, but...
...Same as always.
“...”
Not like I had high hopes, anyway.
Though speaking of high, I might need to head out before the paint fumes get any worse.
Just as I turn around...
“Wh-what’s going on here...?!”
Monochap rounds the corner in a hurry.
“What’s going on is THIS!”
She spins on her foot, paint container braced in both hands like she’s ready to launch it at him.
Uh, she isn’t, right?
“Eep!”
She slings the paint out, and I swear I see the liquid reaching its little fingers out towards him in slow motion. Is this enough to count as attacking him? I can’t see it doing real damage, but maybe all it takes is upsetting him with a big stain on his dress?
“Ka—!”
But slow motion or no, there’s nothing I can try to throw between them. Can’t sprint there in time, either. All I can do is watch...
...as Kanagi turns just enough for the paint not to hit, instead skirting past Monochap’s headwear to splash onto the floor.
“......”
What she lacks in self-control she makes up for with motor control, I guess.
“Wh-what was that for...?!”
“Just for fun, dude!”
Not fun for me! “P... Please don’t try that again.”
“Seriously! What a WASTE! I DON’T have more of these, REMEMBER?”
“Oh, like there’s anything wrong with splatting the floor instead. It’s, like, same diff.”
Ichiriki rolls his eyes hard enough to pull something and turns back to the wall. Monochap, meanwhile, shifts from foot to foot near the floor splatter like he’s spotted a mouse and doesn’t know which way he wants to run from it.
“Were you just making the rounds, or is there a problem?”
“They haven’t hit any cameras, for the record.”
“Oh, um...”
“It just seemed like something fun was happening, ehe...”
“I, um, never get invited to these things, s-so...”
“Yeah, there’s totally a reason for that, dude.”
“B-but! You’re using my colors and everything...!”
“Black and white don’t BELONG to you! You WORTHLESS heap of dainty FREAK!”
“W-wah...”
“Please leave before he can rant about it more.”
“Um, I guess... Okay...”
He looks from us to the wall, then slumps and scuttles away.
“All right, back to business.”
“Uhhh, I’m outta paint. Ich?”
“GET your OWN!”
“Like, yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do?”
I’ve seen enough squabbling for one day, so I leave them to it. Let’s go back to my room instead, where I’ll be able to breathe.
I reach for the handle.
“I’m still shaking a little...”
“......”
Even if we’re closer to the end, we’re still not safe. Even if no more of us turn against each other, we still have to worry about him. And after our last attempts to fight back, and all the punishments he’s dealt...
...That’s quite a lot to worry about.
But I won’t get much sleep if I focus on that. Best to unwind as much as I can tonight. We can go back to saving the world or whatever tomorrow.
Hopefully.
[BACK] [NEXT]
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#14)
After my exciting egg experiment featuring a number of completely random spices, there’s not much left to do but wander.
Not towards the filing cabinet. Won’t do me any good now.
My boots are quiet on the carpet. I don’t pay attention to much else.
At least Apex Academy is well-equipped. Even barred from whatever’s outdoors, there’s plenty for me to do. In theory. In practice, it’s just hard getting invested in any options. Because we’ve been coming to these same places for a while now? Or does it just feel pointless? Reading all the books in the library won’t end this game. Taking up chalk art won’t get the sick and injured somewhere safe for treatment.
It’s all just... existing.
But existing is all I’m obligated to do.
Wish it wasn’t all I can do.
No, there’s... something. There has to be. I just haven’t come up with it yet.
Wandering across the second floor, I hear voices. A girl and a guy, but I can’t guess at more details from here. No reason not to take a look.
Opening the door into the west wing is slightly more difficult without looking up at the handle, but not by much. The voices are more audible, but I’m not paying great attention. Easy to tell the girl isn’t Tsunyasha, though.
Kanagi’s study hall door is ajar—not that it isn’t usually. Not a lot of voices coming out of it lately, though. Considering how few of us are in shape for sports and how busy Kanagi’s been playing nursemaid, that’s not surprising.
But she’s sure here now.
The swish-crunch of sand doesn’t do much to cover up her voice.
“...not like it was ever gonna be, like, fair, tho.”
The reply is a low enough rumble I still can’t make out the words. I draw closer, still staring at my boots as they move. A few smacks come from the study hall, but it’s not too hard to guess what that must be. Glad she found some time to practice. Since she’s been taking care of Mahavir...
Wait, wasn’t that Mahavir’s voice?
He's been getting out more recently, but diving straight into sports seems excessive. Could just be watching Kanagi do drills, though.
Something scoops through sand with a swish, then crashes.
“...”
There’s a moment’s total silence before Mahavir cries out in pain.
“!”
My gaze snaps up, and i stop dragging my feet. My pulse twitches in my throat as I dart into the study hall.
I have to look down again.
“Ma—!”
I turn on Kanagi, who’s hurtling over to check on him, sand spraying in her wake. I try to help, or stay out of the way, or do something, but all I can see or smell or hear or anything is Mahavir lying there with blood on his head.
“What happened?!”
“He just, like, slipped, I dunno!”
She kneels by him, her shoulders hunched.
“Dude, don’t look at me like I did this.”
“Me—I wasn’t...”
Was I? Does part of me think that even Kanagi could be the next one to...
“......”
We don’t have time for this.
I scuff my feet over to Mahavir, but it’s hard to focus on anything but the whoosh of blood in my ears. If he dies—If he’s dead—I—I—
I hear a groan.
“Mahavir!”
He stirs, but I don’t think we want him getting up right now. The sand's lapped up his blood, so I can’t estimate how much he’s lost.
“Don’t get up!”
Don’t know if I said that, or Kanagi. Breathe. Just... breathe... He’ll be fine—it’s Mahavir. Even if a hit to the head could kill someone...
It’s... He wouldn’t...
Breathe.
The nurse’s office isn’t as far as it could be. Kanagi has no trouble hauling him over. She assures me multiple times that head wounds just bleed a lot and it doesn’t mean it’s “like, bad bad.” But still. But still.
We’re in the midst of treating him—translation, Kanagi is in the midst of treating him and I’m the guy standing on reserve until the doc says “scalpel”—when there’s a knock on the door. I look at every incorrect wall possible before managing to see who it is.
Aidan doesn’t attempt to enter, whether the issue is the doorway itself or the people inside.
“Please explain the situation, if anyone is able.”
“Iggy slipped.”
Well. That does pretty much explain it.
“He’ll totally be fine, tho.”
Aidan nods slowly.
“I assume there wouldn’t be sandy footprints outside, had this slip happened in his own room.”
I nod slowly, feeling like I must be betraying someone or other.
“Kanagi’s study hall.”
“And what was he doing there? I don’t suppose that entering the court was necessary for medicating his burns or anything of that sort.”
“Dude, are you seriously asking?”
“He was, like, playing me.”
“Totes not the best game I’ve ever had, buuuut. It was, like, something.”
“Something clearly too risky with his injuries—and you, Miss Yuukei, are also injured, in case you've forgotten!!”
“There will be no playing of sports from this moment onward until we leave this place. Light exercise at most. We can’t afford more incidents with no way to obtain proper medical care.”
“Wh—Then what do you expect me to do, dude?!”
“Something else.”
“I’m sure your schedule will be a bit fuller with tending to Mr. Attenborough after this.”
Kanagi slams her hands on the counter, rattling jars of cotton balls and ointments.
“It’s totally been full enough!”
“I know, like, three whole medicines from sports, dude! Why do I gotta do all the nurse-y crap when you got rid of the real nurse—”
Aidan winces, but his gaze holds firm.
“—who I totally liked, by the way! Everybody liked her! How is this fair?!”
“IT ISN’T FAIR!”
“....”
“It isn’t fair to you, it isn’t fair to Mister Attenborough, and it certainly isn’t fair to Miss Tanukihara.”
“As to the proportion of that which is entirely my own fault, I am sorry. But apologies aren’t going to knit up any wounds, Miss Yuukei. And we don’t want anything worse to happen to Mister Attenborough. You like him, too, don’t you?”
“......”
If she says something, it’s too quiet to hear. But this is Kanagi. Maybe she was just scrunching her mouth around for its own sake.
This might be the only lull we’re going to get, considering one of the speakers, so I step in while I can.
“What if we traded off?”
Aidan nudges one wheel around awkwardly to face me better.
“How so?”
“I may not have experience treating injuries, but I at least have some knowledge of anatomy and the ability to read a reference book.”
“I can play nurse for a while.”
I nod at Kanagi.
“Not sure what that frees you up to do, exactly, but...”
“Nah, that’s, like... good.”
“Totally better than more of this, at least.”
“Ah, but...”
“...........”
“...”
“With infection concerns...”
Ah, right. The reason I wasn’t assigned to Mahavir in the first place.
“But even now, nothing’s happened to make us think he's got anything contagious. Right?”
“At this point, I think as long as we don’t start sneaking sips from each other’s cups, there shouldn’t be much to worry about.”
“......”
“Ultimately, your... key is the only reason you’d need me specifically to check on you, right?”
“Er...”
“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘only’...”
“Me as compared to Kanagi.”
“I suppose...”
“Uh, dude, I know how to use a key, too.”
“...”
“Look, we can discuss whatever safety protocols we need to, but I think this would be for the best.”
“I’m... around now, I think. More consistently.”
“So let me do this.”
Don’t know what to do otherwise, anymore.
“......”
“I’ll see what I can work out.”
“Thanks.”
Kanagi pumps a fist.
“Then I’m totally off to play ball now!”
“No, we just said—”
“Maybe you should tell me about—”
Nope, she’s gone.
“—concussion... What’s the word. Protocol?”
“I believe that’s correct, yes. There should be suitable reference documents in the office already, at least.”
“In the meantime, I’ll attempt to stop her from wreaking any more havoc.”
“All right.”
He sets out at top speed... or something. He’s certainly trying. At least the gym is on this floor.
Which leaves me to tend to Mahavir.
“.........”
It’s fine. He’s fine. Nobody’s dying today.
I never thought anybody would.
”.......”
That’s enough talking to myself. I’ve got work to do.
[BACK] [NEXT]
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#13)
When I leave my room in the morning, chunks of pulled chicken and a few stray broccolis lie forlornly on the movie night table. Next to the open ranch dip.
”Did none of us put this away last night.”
Natural consequence of all the responsible people passing out, I guess. Still, yikes.
“Maybe I can take care of this before Aidan gets out here.” Don’t need a spiel on how many germs can grow in a room-temperature cup of ranch dressing.
I dispose of the offending leftovers without issue. Maybe I could save some of the less dangerous dishes? Hard to be overly concerned about waste here.
“The young master’s clearly got plenty of money to waste.”
Which can probably be assumed of someone called “young master.”
By a robot maid.
But it’s not like the student files had writeups on everyone’s exact socioeconomic statuses. I won’t be taking Ichiriki off the suspect list, but I can’t cross anyone off on those grounds, either.
And I can’t go back and double-check the files.
What am I supposed to do? Just keep cooking and cooperating and hoping we aren’t forced to kill again? No telling when the next motive’s going to hit. I don’t want to just stand around waiting for it.
But what else can I do?
What do I have the strength to do, at this point?
Before I can spiral or un-spiral or anything else, a door clicks open. It takes me a second to catch back up with reality.
“......”
I’m not the only one, apparently.
“Oh, Kakumi! Good morning!”
Yeah, I’m complaining about my strength when he’s like this?
“Morning.”
“Looks like you could afford to sleep in a little more.”
“I have no intention of doing so, thank you.”
“I’m not sure that I could go back to sleep regardless.”
“Just hard to nod off?” Or...
“Nightmares?”
“I’m not sure if I could call it that!”
“I did have a strange dream, though, yes. Still trying to shake it off.”
“One of those kinds where you woke up within the dream, so now you have to spend the rest of your morning trying to figure out if it’s just going to happen all over again.”
“Well, maybe more like the rest of the hour.”
“Beats the rest of the week.”
“Where’d you wake up? Airport?”
“An excellent guess!”
“But no, I’m afraid not. It was somewhere more like the lab room.”
“ ‘Like’ it?”
“It seemed backwards, somehow. Though you’d think I’d have a harder time telling when the room was gutted of desks and valves and all those sorts of things.”
“Hm.” Guess you have a “sense” for those things during the dream.
“It was only me on some sort of cot, with some equipment around that I couldn’t make any sense of.”
“You couldn’t make sense of some equipment? Perish the thought.”
“Right?”
“Though I suppose I wasn’t feeling terribly well, and it’s a bit more difficult to observe in the dark.”
“And without glasses, but that wasn’t an issue anymore in the dream, either.”
Enthralling. I’m sure he’ll keep on with the story, anyway. Might as well stick around the dorm hall and wait for someone else to interrupt, unless I really want to spend my entire breakfast listening to this.
“And then what happened?”
“It gets hazier there.”
“Maybe I’ll run into something later that will trigger the memory. I’ll be sure to let you know!”
“Thanks.”
Just as he’s swearing he has more interesting dreams most of the time, a door swings open—silent, but far enough away for us to have fair warning. Not that there’s much we can do about it.
“Ah, the sinners have already arisen, I see.”
“Only a few of us so far!”
Not even correcting her, huh. Better to just move on, anyway.
“Any big breakfast plans?”
“Seeing as some lesser creatures have seen fit to leave this realm...”
“...not particularly.”
“...”
Yeah, no more lining up for Yuki’s omelettes, that’s for sure. Or dorayaki. If you’d eat that for breakfast for some reason.
Or if you’re someone who doesn’t need a reason to do things. I could name a few of those people here.
Tsunyasha tosses her boa-thing over her shoulder.
“Well! I see no need to tarry here with you lot.”
“Not even to tell us how superior you are?”
This time, Aidan actually elbows me.
“Ow.”
"Surely you don’t need a reminder of that. Are you fools truly so quick to forget?”
She clicks her tongue, as if telling us not to bother answering.
“I’ve no need to humor sinners. Share your pathetic regrets among yourselves, worms.”
She strides past with an extra little oomph, to put us in our place or something. Doesn’t quite give the full effect when she has to wrangle with the bedsheet-movie screen to actually leave the dorm. She curses something about silver and lime and finally pushes her way out.
“...”
I sigh and turn back to Aidan.
“You in a big rush to go after her?”
“.......”
“...”
“...........”
“Aidan?”
I wave a hand in front of his face, but his eyes don’t track it.
Do I... need to take him to the Nurse’s Office?
For all the good that is without a nurse. Were there first aid guides in there? Or would I need to stop by the library? Itsurou’s study hall, even? That would be a good bet if it’s something... potentially lethal.
Or something else! There are plenty of not-dying things you have to research for stories, right?
But before I can get too caught up wishing we at least had a librarian, if not a nurse, Aidan stirs again.
“...Kakumi?”
“That’s me. You okay?”
He slowly adjusts his glasses frames, lets out a breath, and nods.
“Still waking up, it seems.”
“You didn’t get drugged again, did you?”
“Golly, I hope not.”
“It doesn’t feel the same, I’d say. I’m just...”
“...”
“Tired?”
“...A little bit.”
Yet you’ve been out here arranging whole movie nights instead of resting. Uh-huh.
Sidestepping the pile of half-hung sheet, I move to the doors.
“You in the mood for eggs? I’ve been thinking of trying something different, and I could use a second opinion.”
“...”
It’s less like he’s zoning into the stratosphere this time and more like he just sees straight through me.
“Sure, I’ll give it a shot. Though I will warn you, I usually don’t do anything more adventurous than ketchup or hot sauce myself, so I may not have the most advanced palate for the judgment of egg dishes.”
“Fine by me. I’m not the most advanced chef of egg dishes, either.”
Okay, successfully strong-armed him into not making his own breakfast, at least. It’s not much, but that’s probably half the reason he agreed. Small gestures are still better than nothing.
Now let’s hope I don’t drop enough eggshells in his dish to make him change his mind.
[BACK] [NEXT]
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#12)
I make my rounds from task to task all evening, and Aidan has to remind me to sit down for a minute at some point. Even so, I’m pretty exhausted by the time 9:00 hits. At least the bedsheet “screen” seems to be holding up despite Ichiriki’s best efforts to not perform his task.
Despite our event being a movie, there’s no popcorn this time—trying not to think too hard about who made the last batches—just some fruit, veggies, and a nacho bar that no one with an appreciation of symmetry could stand if all the lights were still on.
There were only so many matching containers in the kitchen, okay?
There’s also a big jug of hand sanitizer, in case anyone doesn’t want to take five more steps to go wash their hands in their dorm bathroom. Or someone else’s. Most of us are set up with chairs at our own doorways, but Kanagi’s apparently crashed Ichiriki’s to be a little closer to the screen. Tsunyasha’s room is even farther, but I think she’s more interested in watching the rest of us than the movie, anyway. Not sure what she’s got against the silver screen, but as long as she’s not stirring up trouble, I can’t complain.
Aidan and I ended up with front-row tickets, so he doesn’t have much issue getting people’s attention as he prepares to start the movie.
“It is now 9:00 PM, and our feature film will be beginning shortly!”
“First, I do want to thank everyone for coming, and for your cooperation in getting everything set up!”
“Should you need to take a break or start to nod off—well, your rooms are right there, nehe.”
“But, as far as what you can stand, I’m confident we can all enjoy this event if we only allow ourselves to.”
“So, grab some food while we’ve still got it, and we’ll get this thing off the ground, shall we?”
Kanagi cheers, while Tsunyasha almost seems to consider a sporting and/or sarcastic clap before focusing on her food instead. Mahavir remains a few awkward paces back from his doorway, like he’s unsure if he’s supposed to have his door closed for this. Don’t think that’d be a great way to see the movie, though.
“Just allow ourselves to enjoy things, huh.”
I side-eye Ichiriki, but he’s busy... filing his nails? Sure, why not. Makes it easier on the rest of us if his concentration’s elsewhere.
At least, until he gets bored in a few minutes and starts complaining again.
Aidan whoops back, then makes sure he and his poof of hair are out of everyone’s way before hitting play. Despite a few ripples in the bedsheet Ichiriki put up, the picture and audio seem to be working just fine. Aidan’s chosen video opens with an airplane moving through the clouds.
How shocking.
I’m probably paying more attention to my food than the movie as it leads us into an airport. Not like things have gotten good yet. Just... a little weird.
We manage to make it a few jokes(?) in before Kanagi cackles loud enough to overcome the soundtrack.
“Did...”
“Did you actually get that pun? I wasn’t sure how well these would go with a Japanese audience.”
“Pff, nah, I totally don’t get it at all! I can just tell it’s funny, dude.”
“...Good enough!”
With that, we’re back to actually being able to hear the movie. It’s really not getting any less absurd. All right.
“........”
“This is SO unrealistic.”
Ah, there he goes. I check over my shoulder, but so far Ichiriki doesn’t seem to be up to any crimes besides eating nachos with a fork and knife.
We didn’t even bring silverware over? Why is...
I’m not gonna worry about it. It’s Ichiriki. If it fits whatever his thing is now, he’ll find a way.
“It most certainly is!"
“Like, why would you want it to be real crap? We already get that with, like...”
“...real crap.”
“But surely any departures from your sad, limited reality should be more glorious than this?”
“Tales of heroes, rather than...”
She shakes her head with an unenthusiastic gesture at the screen. I’m not sure what we missed there, but there sure are babies being thrown now. Amazing. This thing keeps oscillating between slapstick gags and extended-setup puns, and it’s hard to know what I should be paying attention to. Is there a plot?
“Not exactly as intellectual as I would have expected.”
“Hey now, some of those setups are quite clever!”
He makes a passing attempt to scoot towards me before deciding it’s too much effort. The gesture’s been made.
He lifts a hand near his mouth for his best stage whisper.
“And you know what? You’re allowed to laugh at stupid jokes, too.”
He mimes an elbow nudge that is both too far away and on the wrong side to actually reach me. Work with what he’s got, I guess.
“Thanks for the permission.”
“You’re very welcome! Use it well.”
“.........”
And back to the train wreck—plane wreck?—that is this movie. I guess it’s not terrible, just... Is there a plot yet?
We finally make it from the airport onto a plane when the camera focuses on some overhead service button labels. Simple enough English, just above something that is clearly not actual Spanish. The screen flicks back to the actual characters.
“Hey! HOW am I supposed to read a FOREIGN LANGUAGE that fast?!”
“Special training?”
“Oh no are we supposed to be reading.”
You... are at least reading the actual subtitles, right? Right?
“Well, we CERTAINLY aren’t if THAT’S all the time they’ll give us! UNBELIEVABLE!”
“Now, who’s this ‘they’ to whom you’re referring? Because...”
He pauses the movie—on a frame of a character looking even more nervous with the motion blur—and rewinds.
“...we have the technology to take as long as we need.”
He pauses on the text in question. The dorm hallway is infinitely quieter for a few moments.
“I STILL can’t read it! What GIVES?!”
“Yo, my name’s Ich, I’m 19 years old, and I never learned how to frickin’ read.”
“That fool is nineteen?”
“NO!!!”
Why is this happening.
“Er...”
A quiet but rough throat-clearing.
“If it’s of any assistance, I don’t believe that’s intended to be a faithful translation into... any existing language whatsoever.”
“So they MADE IT UP? Just for ONE movie? Who DOES that?!”
“That isn’t... precisely what I...”
“Oh, there’s a sequel, don’t worry!”
“I’m classifying that as a threat.”
“As you well should.”
Before this can devolve any further—I don’t know how it could, but with this team, anything is possible—he hits play again. Back to airplanes and flashbacks and whiplash every which way, with the whole bizarro tone being the only thing holding somewhat steady.
But none of us get up to leave. At least some people end up laughing from joke to joke—mostly Kanagi, but she’s been having a rough time of it. It’s nice to hear her back to normal.
Back to weird?
Anyway. It’s just a night of snorts and snickers, random interruptions that can’t take much away from a random movie, and general split attention between subtitles and congealing nacho cheese. I never burst out laughing, whether Aidan’s horribly disappointed in me or not, but a few moments catch me off-guard enough to get a good snort.
By the time the movie ends, Aidan and Mahavir have already retreated into their dorms to various degrees in case they pass out, which they do. Ichiriki has successfully kicked Kanagi out of his own room by virtue of shutting the door behind him when she went to grab a refill. She just booed at him and went to try Tsunyasha’s instead.
I wander back to the refreshments table and try not to pass out myself as the menu screen loops. I should probably turn that off, or something. Not sure I care enough.
“.....”
I’m tired. Not because it’s what-even-o-clock now, though that sure isn’t helping. There’s just too much to worry about. One bizarre lighthearted movie night isn’t going to fix that.
“But it wasn’t a bad break.”
[BACK] [NEXT]
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#11)
I’m doing my best to unwind when there’s a knock at the door.
“Dinnertime already?”
Or I guess someone could just want to talk to me. For some reason.
I roll off the top of my bed semi-gracefully and step to the door.
“...”
I don’t wait for more introduction before tugging it open.
“Miss Kogamino!! I was hoping you’d be here.”
“I am here pretty often, yes. What’s up?”
“Our movie night is tonight, so I’m going around delegating tasks. Any objections?”
“You’ll have to tell me the task before I can object.”
“No objections to the event, then—duly noted, thank you.”
“As for your task...”
“Well, mostly I want you as backup in case the other assisting parties turn out to be, um. Not highly assistive.”
“Fair enough.” An all-purpose understudy, huh.
“For a quick rundown, we have me securing snacks, Miss Yuukei transporting the snacks, Miss Tsunyasha bringing the auditorium projector into the dormitory hall, and Mister Tokino putting up the surface to be projected upon.”
“And you’re expecting all of them to cooperate?”
“Thus your mission, should you choose to accept it.”
“I’m sure Miss Yuukei and I could find some use for help if you’re really gunning to be active, but only if it looks like the others have their tasks under control.”
“What about Mahavir?”
“I’ve ensured the movie will be set up so that everyone will be able to watch it together from the safety of mostly our own rooms!”
“Or doorsteps, rather. So Mister Attenborough will be able to attend, if he’s feeling up to it.”
“But still no helping beforehand.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I’m not being overly ambitious with this event regardless, so there wouldn’t be much for him to do. Better that he get some rest.”
But you’re sure not planning on resting. The usual.
“Any particular order these things are getting done?”
“Now that level of organizational detail is more than I can wrangle out of this crowd, I’m afraid.”
“Fair enough.”
“If you keep an eye around this hall, the kitchen, and the auditorium, that should cover everyone regardless.”
“Personally, I’ll be starting on some of the food now, before the dinner rush hits. We’re aiming for a movie start time of 9:00 PM sharp.”
“That ought to be plenty of time even with questionable cooperation levels, so let’s be optimistic, shall we?”
“We can sure try.”
“Excellent. A good time will be had by all!”
Famous last words.
I don’t see any reason to rebut him, though, so I release him to whatever he’s aiming to cook.
“9:00...”
That’s still a good ways away. Is anyone else even bothering with tasks yet? I don’t hear Ichiriki hollering about inconveniences in the hallway, and Kanagi doesn’t have any food to transport yet. Tsunyasha...
“...How high up is that projector, actually?”
Maybe that’s worth checking on. Still have my doubts she’s on it already, though. Maybe I should get a little more file reading done before I start my rounds?
I could justify either, really.
INVESTIGATE
[Secretary office]
[Auditorium]
[BACK] [NEXT]
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#11a)
I wind my way back to the file cabinet without any interlopers.
“All right...”
Got a while before I need to worry about the movie night. I’ll try and keep track of time, though. Might be a little awkward to explain what I was doing if I show up late.
I take the key out of my pocket and unlock the cabinet with about as much fanfare as any other time.
“I was at... Kokoro?”
That was drawer three, right?
If I’m actually reading it this time. Really shouldn’t skip what little info I do have here just because it hurts to think about. Just gonna have to grin and bear it.
I sigh and yank the appropriate drawer open.
“—!”
It’s completely empty, the little rails along the ends hanging like the last pieces of a skeleton picked clean.
This—This is the right file cabinet, right? I try the other drawers, but they’re empty, too. Aside from the bottom one, which still won’t open. This is the file cabinet, all right.
“...........”
Did I leave it unlocked? No, I’m sure I had to actually use the key just now. Haven’t left the key lying around anywhere, either. There could easily be other copies, but I found this after Monochap dropped it. Meaning...
The young master almost has to be the one responsible. But why?
“Was I onto something?”
I’ve come here to check several times, though. Surely they would have noticed earlier? Or are they too busy with something else to keep track? When there are so few of us to keep tabs on now? Hard to believe.
“Then why did this happen now?”
There must be some angle I’m missing. Maybe I can talk it over with Aidan? But he’s busy with the movie night now, and the last thing I need to do is spoil what little morale we can muster with that.
With a sigh, I open and close the middle drawer a few times, just in case this is some bizarre trick of the eye. But it stays empty.
“Is something wrong?”
“Gack!”
I slam the drawer shut, attempting to hide it behind my back as I turn. Once again, remind me to not murder anyone because boy I will never get away with it.
“Monochap?”
Hovering within a reasonable speaking distance, he nods.
“Your very own mutual killing game chaperone, that’s me!”
“But, um... Is something wrong?”
“Your existence in general, sure.”
“.......”
“Why don’t you tell me if something’s wrong? You came here for a reason, didn’t you?”
“D-did I?”
“Yes.”
“........”
“I was just, um, checking...!”
“Checking what?”
“.........”
I duck around him a bit, but if he’s taken any files, he doesn’t have his briefcase to stow them in. Heck if I know how much storage he’s got in the rest of him, though.
I pull back.
“Checking for someone in here?”
“Maybe...?”
“Well, I’m here. And I’m not breaking any rules.”
“Uh-huh...”
“...”
“...”
“Okay, move it. I’m leaving.”
“O-oh! Um, you don’t have to go on my account...!”
“Well, I am.”
I march straight for the door, robots in the way or otherwise.
“Eep!”
He dodges, and I continue into the hall. As if what I’ve been looking for is out here, not in there.
“Or, I guess it is now.”
Monochap doesn’t try to stop me, but I keep moving, anyway. No point hanging around where there’s nothing left to look at.
I’ve got better things to do today.
[BACK]
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#11b)
The stench of burnt everything covers the auditorium hallway. How long has it been since I’ve come back this way?
Awful lot of rooms here with too many memories.
But right now, it’s just me and the projector.
“That is pretty high up.”
I can see why you’d assign Tsunyasha to this, with her skills in... I’d call it acrobatics, but she seemed pretty put off when I said that to her before.
Guess it’s just supposed to be some... assassin skill.
I peer up at the ceiling, then down to the chairs below. The projector hangs over the empty center aisle, so that’s one stumbling block we don’t have to worry about. Still, I’m surprised Aidan would request something so risky.
But if that’s what it takes for all of us to be able to do something together... Can’t say it’s not worth a little trouble.
“Oh? And what have we here?”
It takes much longer to locate the voice’s source than identify it. Tsunyasha is... clinging to the top of one of the stage curtains.
Is she planning to jump across the room from there? Don’t think that’s going to work.
“I’m sure you know very well who’s here.”
“Ah, the whelp has learned something.”
“I assume you’ve got this covered, but if you want any help...”
“Oho? Offering your very body as tribute?”
“Not how I’d want that worded, but something like that, potentially.”
“Very well, then. I’ll allow it...”
“Just this once.”
“I’m honored.”
“Rightly so.”
I move close enough for her to give instructions without yelling. There aren’t enough instructions about, I don’t know, ladders or logical approaches, but I figure I’m better off helping her with her own methods. She’s the type to shoot down any suggestions with extreme prejudice.
I don’t want to distract her from the task, either, but if I time this right, I’d really like to test the waters.
“Are you glad it was me who showed up instead of Mahavir?”
“Hmm?”
She dangles upside-down from her perch beside the projector.
“And why, pray tell, would I prefer the company of one sinner over another?”
“Could be plenty of reasons.”
“But Mahavir... You know.”
“For I do know all, yes.”
“Yeah...”
“But just to clarify... for myself...”
“He... did some things while you were... fighting on other planes?” Was that what she called it? Still not completely accurate to what I’m trying to ask, but there’s only so much Tsunyasha-ese I’m passably fluent in.
“Just wondering if you had any thoughts on that.”
“.......”
“Those whose minds dwell on mortals may as well be a mortal.”
“And I’m hardly going to lower myself to the level of you worms.”
“If such a thing were even possibly for a holy one like myself.”
“........”
So she... just decides not to think about things she doesn’t like? Is that the gist? If so, understandable, but probably not a healthy strategy on this scale.
As if anything about her screams “healthy” psychologically. But a couple of textbook assignments don’t make me a licensed therapist, so I’m not getting any deeper into that than I have to.
“So if he showed up right now, you’d just scoff and keep on with whatever you’re doing?”
“Something of the sort, I suppose.”
“All right.”
Can’t expect her to respond to apologies anytime soon, then. Not sure how good or bad of a thing that is. Can’t be great for Mahavir, but she’s the victim here.
Not that she’d want to be called that, I’m sure. Hypocritical, huh?
I try to focus back in on the projector mission, which is mostly just juggling tools on my part, but that’s easier said than done. I want to help her—really help her, not just with our menial tasks here. From one of us victims to another.
Is that supposed to make things right? For all the people who could have been victimized after I did nothing?
“...........”
This is about Tsunyasha. Not me, not the imaginary people in my nightmares who may not even exist.
...Unfortunately, I may know less about Tsunyasha than the imaginary people. How’s that work?
She still seems functional, though. Reasonably happy. Isn’t that what should matter? Whatever deeper problems are involved here... I don’t know who’s going to solve them, if anyone. But I doubt it’s ever going to be me.
And not Mahavir, either. Not if she and he both aren’t going to acknowledge what happened between them.
But I can’t force it. Maybe she’ll be ready somewhere farther down the line. I’ll just try to make sure we’re all still around by then.
As Tsunyasha ties the dismembered projector to a rope and sends it swinging towards the curtains, I can only think that...
...I’ll sure have to make an active effort.
[BACK]
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#10)
I keep myself distracted long enough for a decently portioned lunch, then head back up the stairs.
“.......”
I leave the stairwell a floor early. No point rushing up and down more than I have to, and I do need to look up what a kuroko is. Don’t remember seeing dictionaries in the library, but there’s no reason it wouldn’t have any.
“They’d probably make good blunt instruments for Monochap’s purposes.”
Not that the murder up here needed any blunt instruments.
Let’s not think about that. Straight to the bookshelves.
With that mantra, I charge in, barely even registering the reading tables. Just enough to not knock into one.
“Dictionaries...”
I should probably know what general area they’d be in, but I never did memorize the standard sorting system. I scan the spines at eye level to get a feel instead—computer science here, looks like—then stop.
“.........”
I turn around.
Mahavir waves tentatively from where he stands by another shelf.
“...”
I can’t figure out whether to ask him what he’s doing here or just be glad he’s well enough to leave his room.
“Hi?” Sure, that’s a middle ground.
“Hello.”
“...”
“...”
“I was, er... seeing if anything caught my eye.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Okay...”
“You were looking for a dictionary?”
“How—”
“Oh. Right.” The whole “talking to myself when I think no one else is around” thing. Which is somehow the least concerning of my mental health things.
“I believe they were on a higher shelf...”
“...but I’m afraid that’s all I remember.”
“We both love our high shelves, I’m sure.”
“Ahah.”
I keep my chin tilted up as I browse the titles. Why is the text so small on half of these? Do they want you to grab things blindly just hoping for the best?
“So you’re feeling better, Mahavir?”
“A bit.”
“Of course, with the... semiquarantine?—precautions, I’ve no business being out and about for more than a few minutes. But that much seems worth trying, I believe.”
“Perhaps I can take something back to read after all. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Here? Hmm...”
For him, I guess something military? Not a genre I’ve felt like reading lately. Linguistics? Can’t say I have much interest in that, either.
I’m really friends with a guy I share no common interests with, huh. Funny how that happens.
Either way, I’m sure he doesn’t mind me taking a minute to think, so I continue browsing the high shelves. Books on law, education... Ironic.
Just as I cross to a few books on language, a screech and thud jolt me.
“Ma—”
I glimpse the soles of his shoes beneath the nearest desk before my attention switches to the person now entering.
“My, my. I thought I’d sensed a sinner nearby.”
I casually approach the chair that was thrown hastily out of Mahavir’s way and lean onto it.
“Tsunyasha. Wouldn’t expect you in the library.”
“Ah, because there’s nothing I’ve need to learn?”
Sure, that’s it.
“But surely you didn’t think you could hide from me here?”
I keep my gaze up, but I can practically feel Mahavir freezing under the desk. At least I can rest easy knowing he must have gone down intentionally, but it’s not enough to keep my palms from sweating. Feels like I’m the only wall fending off an incoming tsunami from an unprepared town. Not sure which of those is who here, either.
“Oh, I would never be so...” What’s a good Tsunyasha-style word for this one?
“...Not feeling up to phrasing it right now. Were you looking for me in particular?”
“Hardly. What reason could I possibly have to fixate upon a single worm?”
I’m sure there are plenty, but most of them involve divine punishment, and I’d rather not bring that up. I seem to be maintaining her attention, though. Not sure Mahavir’s ever getting a chance to sneak past her—he doesn’t have a sneaky bone in his body, anyway—but keeping her distracted can’t hurt.
“Hoping for multiple worms, then?”
“That would be even more senseless.”
“Perhaps a proper demon to battle could be engaging...”
I can just feel Mahavir tensing up further. I bite my tongue before I can hiss that she doesn’t mean him. Not like I can be certain about that, anyway.
“...but it’s not as if I can’t abide a bit of fallow time, hmm?”
“Quite a bit of that lately, isn’t it?”
She sighs dramatically. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you mortals, to feel your short, short years slipping through your fingers.”
“But I fail to pity sinners.”
“Still no interest in helping us get out of here, then?”
“Perhaps as a passing fancy, but no more.”
“Is a passing fancy enough to want to help me deduce who the young master is?”
“I’d only want you to answer a question.” Not gonna ask for any more than that from her. Even getting an answer is a tall order, really.
“I suppose I can at least hear the request. Go on, whelp.”
“Do you know anything about kurokos?”
I watch her face as carefully as I can, but aside from a blink, I don’t pick up the slightest tell. Was she taken aback for a second, or just succumbing to the normal human need to keep her eyes from drying out? We’ll never know.
“One of those pranceabout little roles you mortals are fond of, yes?”
“I can’t say I care to know more than that.”
“So... a stage thing?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“Pathetic as all your other ways of entertaining yourselves, but nothing beyond my expectations.”
“I see. Thanks.”
Actual information from Tsunyasha? Who’d’ve thunk. Guess it’s a little easier when I’m not asking her about herself. Unless, of course, I am... But I’m trying not to jump to conclusions with that.
She nods. “I believe I’ll excuse you now.”
“From the conversation or the room?”
“Oh, I suppose you can stay in your feeble room of papers for now.”
“As much of a waste of your few moments on this earth it may be.”
With that, she spins silently on her heel and strides away, scarf-thing trailing in her wake. I stay poised, nails digging into the chair back, and let out a long breath. She doesn’t come back. Still, I check the hall before returning to the table and tugging the chair back out of the way.
“She’s gone.”
For a second I wonder if Mahavir’s fallen asleep under there, but then he groans and starts to shuffle backward. The carpet muffles his movements and voice both.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He crawls back a little further and stops.
“You, uh, need a hand?”
“If you could...”
Making a mental note to wash my hands thoroughly after this, I do my best to wrangle him back to a standing position. I’m sure his appetite hasn’t been great lately, but if he’s lost any weight, I sure can’t tell.
“Thank you... again.”
“Don’t mention it, again.”
I check the hall one more time before backtracking to the shelves. Don’t get much browsing done before my attention strays back to Mahavir. He stands in the same place, staring blankly at the open doorway.
“I know you’re not leaving your room much right now...”
“...but you’ll have to talk to her eventually, you know.”
“............”
“I’ll push it as far into the future as I can, but you have to prepare yourself. Won’t help anyone if you panic and...”
“...”
“...pass out, most likely.”
“Er...”
“Of course.”
He takes a deep breath.
“But what on earth could I possibly do?”
“...”
“You can always try apologizing. I know you’d mean it.”
“..............”
“Odds 10-to-1 she’ll maintain she has no idea what happened and consider it some kind of general sinner-type thing.”
“You’ve a point, I suppose.”
“But still, I...”
“..........”
“.......”
We’ve already gone through this can of worms—no sense trying to pry the lid off all over again. Especially not out here in the relative open.
“Something to think about. But like I said, I’ll try to stave it off—don’t worry too hard just yet.”
“For now, we should get back to your room. You’re not looking too steady.”
“.......”
He musters up the energy to sigh and nod. I scout things out ahead and manage to guide him back to the dorm without any collisions.
“Get some rest, okay?”
“Yes...”
Nothing left to say as he heads inside for another round of isolation.
“.......”
Well, that’s another fire put out for now. Maybe I can take a breather before I jump back into my young master investigations.
I made progress, anyway, right? No confirmation that Tsunyasha’s our kuroko, but she at least knows what it is.
Or would she have denied even that much, if she was trying to keep her talent a secret? Maybe if I can just find some way into her study hall...
”......”
But like I said. Breather first.
[BACK] [NEXT]
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#9)
With my socializing done for the day—or week—I resume my file cabinet quest. At least it’s not too drafty in here, even if the silence has a weird pressure to it.
“And maybe the next time I talk to someone, I won’t accidentally bring this stuff up.”
Not that the young master shouldn’t be able to see me in here, anyway. But they've given us some leeway when it comes to the non-murder stuff. If they don’t think it’s a threat to them, then they won’t bother interrupting.
As to whether I can outsmart them with info they don’t mind me taking...
We’ll just have to see.
“All right. Where was I?”
I keep jumping around avoiding people, but I should probably go ahead and check Kaichi’s before I start on the third drawer.
Then I’ll have to figure out how to strongarm my way into the last one. I’m sure I could do it with help. But should I really be talking to anyone about this if I don’t have to?
“I’ll worry about that when I get to it.”
So. Kaichi.
I pluck up his folder without further ado, take a deep breath, and open it up. Some normal, basic stuff—his recent grades are all over the place, but I don’t know how you could fairly compensate for his condition in a lot of subjects.
“Speaking of...”
Not much in the way of actual hospital documents here, but I’m sure those would be some legal nightmare to get. Still a few articles, interviews, doctor’s notes for class—enough to verify he wasn’t somehow faking that.
Past that are academic journal articles with his name in the credits in some place or other. The studies are all so specialized I can barely decipher anything from the jargon, but I get some kind of gist. Nuclear medicine stuff.
I aimlessly flip through pages, but that’s about all there is here. A few footnotes on his dad, but nothing that makes me think he’d put his son in a killing game. I silently slide the folder back into place.
So, pretty much what I expected to find. All right. Moving along...
I shut the drawer a little more forcefully than intended and wince. A glance at the door tells me Monochap hasn’t come running over, at least. After opening the next drawer more carefully, I slip its first file out and just hold it for a second.
“Kazusuke...”
If I keep hesitating at every dead person, I won’t make it far here.
It’s just disorienting. How long it feels like since I’ve seen him alive. If I based my estimates on that, we may as well have been locked up here for a year.
Will we be here for a year? If we don’t jump at any more motives...
“WHO is making a RUCKUS in here?!”
I jump at that instead, chucking Kazusuke’s file back into the drawer and slamming it shut. Which I guess would not endear me to someone who didn’t like me making noise.
“You’re making about as much of a ruckus as I am.”
Ichiriki ducks his head inside without leaving the hallway.
“Well maybe I wouldn’t HAVE to if YOU would let me CONCENTRATE!”
“Concentrate on what? More murals?”
“NOT the best surfaces up here.”
“As a matter of FACT, I was trying to find a way OUT of here!”
“From the fifth floor?”
“YES!!”
“.........”
“For your INFORMATION, there’s nothing left above us but the ROOF. So if we WANT to break through without anything COLLAPSING on us, this is EXACTLY the floor to be on.”
Well, that kind of makes sense.
“Wouldn’t you have better luck at the stairwell? Surely it’s designed to go to the roof.”
“Shows what YOU know! UGH!”
“Not an awful lot when it comes to you, that’s for sure.”
“I’m done making noise if you want to get back to work now.”
“OH? Just trying to SCARE me off now? RIDICULOUS!”
“That you are. Do you want to find a way out of here, or keep complaining?”
“Maybe I wouldn’t HAVE to keep complaining if YOU people would just—UGH!”
He finally storms off in a flurry of artistic rage.
“.........”
A few seconds later, he storms past again, this time in the direction that actually has rooms we can access.
“........”
I’ll just get back to my thing.
I slide the drawer open and dig Kazusuke’s file out from where it fell to the bottom. Maybe I’m a little distracted browsing it, but I’m not noticing anything of interest. Races, biodiesel. A few notes on his parents, who are in fact serving a great deal of time for drug dealing.
“.....”
Guess the chemistry affinity came from somewhere.
At any rate, nothing suspicious for our situation. I replace the file, actually hanging it on the runners properly this time, and...
“Wait...”
My fingers hover over the next tab.
“ ‘Kiiko’...?”
Who on earth is Kiiko?
I snap up the folder like it’ll vanish if I'm too slow. It doesn’t, but it doesn’t feel too hefty, either.
“Did someone already empty it?”
Maybe while I was distracted yesterday, Tsunyasha—But no, I had a completely different drawer open then. She couldn’t have. In which case...
“Or I can actually open the folder instead of just assuming it’s empty.”
I do that. And while there aren’t, in fact, a lot of papers, there are some.
“Right. Okay.”
Still doesn’t mean nothing was taken out, but... Anyway.
“Kiiko Senade, Super High School Level... Kuroko?”
The term sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it. There are some articles about a kabuki troupe in here, but none of them actually mention our mysterious student. Some photos of the actors, but no one I recognize.
Is Kiiko even someone in our class? Someone who was supposed to be here?
“But the building only has sixteen dorms.”
If it’s not one of us, then someone would have had to replace them outright for this little misadventure.
“...”
I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s probably just someone who uses a different name. Which, considering the file tabs I’ve seen so far, would pretty much be down to Tamiko or Tsunyasha, unless bento arrangers use stage names these days. And I don’t have any real doubts about Tamiko or Yuki’s talents.
“Oh—or Mary Jane.”
Could that be an alias?
Not like it doesn’t have a meaning of its own, if you wanted to pick something based on... what? Weed jokes?
“Am I really considering Mary Jane for our criminal mastermind?”
We’ll see how plausible that sounds after I’ve actually looked at all of the files. For now, I'll note it mentally and keep going. Next is...
“Kokoro...”
I take the file out and open up to the demographics page, but half of my brain is busy seeing her body in the art room all over again and the other half is still buzzing about Kiiko. Nothing right in front of me is registering.
“Maybe it’s about time to break for lunch...”
Can’t say I’m hungry, but I guess it���s getting a little late... Might as well see what I can manage.
I carefully replace Kokoro’s file, lock up, and head out.
[BACK] [NEXT]
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#8)
On my way to the stairs so I can check out that file cabinet, I stop short. Not because of the, uh, creative swaths of paint marbling the Main Hall mural, but because of the voices just a bit farther ahead. The student store, or maybe the Nurse’s Office.
Is someone hurt?
Well. More than they were already.
I creep closer.
“...as tight as I can, but that’s not gonna, like, fix anything. ‘s gonna get worse the more you keep pushing it, dude.”
“I’m aware. At any rate, thank you for the assistance! I do appreciate it.”
“Yeah...”
Not much doubt about who's talking, but I still startle when I turn the corner. Monochap is poised just outside the Nurse’s Office, one of his ear-ish things this close to the door.
“Wh...”
Noticing me, he scuttles back.
“O-oh...! Kakumi! Can I help you...?”
“You...”
“Were you eavesdropping on them?”
“E-eh?! Of course not! Th-that would be an invasion of privacy...!”
“...........”
From the guy who’s always watching us anyway. Okay. Are the cameras broken or something...?
Probably too much to hope for. He just might not have anything better to do if nobody’s getting murdered.
Ignoring him, then, it seems like there are a good few questions I could ask around here.
Not sure I liked what I was hearing.
FREE TIME EVENTS PT. 2
[Aidan Doppler]
[Kanagi Yuukei]
[BACK] [NEXT]
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#8a)
Inside the Nurse’s Office, Aidan flexes his bandaged fingers—the ones I can see clearly, at least. Not sure the hand in the sling has moved at all since I’ve seen it. Which is the point of wearing a sling, I guess.
“Ah, Miss Kogamino! Were you looking for me?”
“Not particularly, but I wouldn’t mind the company.”
“That, I can certainly provide!”
I spend some time in Aidan’s company. Translated: listening to whatever part of aerospace engineering he feels like babbling about today. He’s slowed down enough now I might halfway keep up if I try, but... that's way too much effort. Not today, thanks.
“So what was that just now?”
“Er, the buoyancy part, or...”
“No, before that.”
“Whatever you and Kanagi were talking about before I walked up.”
“Oh, that? Nothing in particular. I was just thanking her for all of her help.”
“You can tell it’s wearing on her, but we don’t have a lot of options at this point, I’m afraid.”
That’s true, but...
“You act like you mean that in general. But to me it sounded like she was just telling you, specifically, not to push things too far.”
His smile tightens.
“Her advice has been noted, yes.”
“And discarded?”
“...”
“I assure you I’m doing the best I can to take care of myself, given the situation in which we find ourselves. Do I need to present you with the entire argument?”
“Shoot.”
“I really don’t understand how it’s so unintuitive to everyone, but all right.”
“So. I think we’re all well-aware by now that I’m not in the greatest physical condition.”
“Which technically could've been said from the beginning, but. This is an entirely different beast now.”
“Yeah.”
“Furthermore! My current condition has yet to be evaluated by anyone remotely approximating an actual medical professional. I’m sure we can agree that that ought to be some kind of priority, yes?”
“All right.”
“Therefore, I believe this should logically follow: the most important thing that I can do for myself and my own health is getting us out of here as soon as possible, because only then will I be able to receive proper treatment.”
This is quickly going somewhere I won’t be happy with, but it’s awfully hard to contradict him.
“Okay...”
“So can everyone quit fussing over me ‘pushing myself’? My goals are in fact very well aligned with my own ultimate physical health and safety!”
“I mean... Yes.”
“Might be taking on too much personally, though.”
“Why does it need to be you who gets us out of here?”
“I assure you I’m quite capable of delegating as many tasks as possible! It may not be as many as would make me—or most any of us—comfortable, but I’m afraid we're forced to work within our circumstances.”
“And it doesn’t have to be me, per se. But I intend to contribute all I can, and I’m really best-suited to taking the lead. That being said, I don’t intend to ask things of anyone that I wouldn’t be willing to do myself, in better circumstances.”
Ah, so he could still ask us to kill.
...That was a little much. At least it wasn’t out loud.
“All right. Well...”
“Can’t say I’m in shape to take everything on for you. Doing better, at least, but...”
“Or, I think I’m doing better. Not sure exactly what I was up to for a couple of days there.”
“Perfectly understandable.”
“No one should be taken hostage, of course, but I imagine that was particularly cruel for you.”
“..............”
“If you’d prefer lighter conversation, I’m absolutely game for that...”
“...but if it would help to discuss the more serious things, you’re always welcome to bring that to me as well.”
“Thanks.”
“Lighter is better right now, I think.”
“Understood.”
“Good to know you’ll also shoulder the brunt of the emotional burdens yourself.”
“Hearing people out isn’t that bad, goodness. A little extra listening won’t push me to the brink of total physical exhaustion.”
“Thus why I was referring to emotional exhaustion.”
“I think you’ll find it’s very, very difficult to get me anywhere close to that.”
“I guess.”
Unless it’s about brain damage, germs, or suffocation. But a precision weak spot strike isn’t quite the topic at hand.
“So! Something lighter! Hmmm...”
“Have you read or watched anything good recently? I’ve seen you passing through the library a fair few times.”
“Well...”
And with that, we’re back to plain conversation. Not hostages, not debilitating injuries, and certainly not murders.
A little sad when that’s the bar for light conversation, but we’ll take what we can get.
[BACK]
2 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
gts503
Sin título
honfong
Needs JOJO everyday
iconsurban
ICONS URBAN
senor-plume
Senor Plume
s3tt1ngf1r3
𝕭𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕻𝖎𝖙