Folie à deux

"Tsumiki Mikan…" he whispered to the stillness of the room.

Komaeda turned over in bed for the fifth time in as many minutes.

No matter which wall of his cabin he stared at, all he could see instead was the once pretty face of the young nurse, contorted into that grotesque parody of infatuation following her trial.

She was dead and gone now, lost beyond the veil of despair that she had attempted to cast before the eyes of the remaining students… So why couldn't he put her aside and move on the same as he did following the other trials?

It was a waste of time to dwell on the dead; looking forward was clearly the best way to pave a pathway toward hope. He knew this, and yet, something about the previous case continued to weigh on his mind.

Hanamura had killed in order to go back home to his mother. Pekoyama had committed her crime out of a wish to spare the one she cared for most. Tsumiki… She had claimed to kill in order to please her beloved, but it had been clear that the girl had been acting on the side of despair, rather than hope. He had felt such disappointment when her motive came light. He had wished that she could have been stronger, could have cultivated the seeds of hope within her in order to strangle her blossoming despair. It was wrong. The entire situation was just wrong. Was Tsumiki herself even truly the one to lay blame on? Could it be that the person that she had called her 'beloved' had been the one to inject despair into the girl, releasing it into her veins like a fatal overdose?

After the trial, the other students had come to the conclusion that Tsumiki had been a revolting pawn of despair all along, that every moment they had spent with her on the island had been nothing more than a cruel fairytale in which the meek and timid healer girl had tossed aside her mantle to revel herself as the witch. It hadn't been worth bringing this up to them at the time- what had happened, happened and their opinions on the girl wouldn't bring her or anyone else back, yet weren't they recall the Twilight Syndrome game? The character of 'A-ko', was identical in both speech and mannerism to the Tsumiki that they had grown to care for. If it was true that the game was based on an actual event that had occurred during her school life, then wouldn't it stand to reason the Tsumiki they knew hadn't been a lie? A shadow of times past, perhaps, but certainly not a complete fabrication. Something must have happened to her in the time between that incident having taken place and their current predicament. Could it have been the former lover she had spoken of? No one like that had appeared in the game, so it would stand to reason that she met that particular person some time after.

Komaeda rolled over onto his back with a sigh, rubbing at his eyes. He wouldn't be much use to the others tomorrow without sleep, but than again, when was he ever of use to anyone?

The blankets suddenly felt smothering in the summer air. He slid out of bed and wandered to the small bathroom. Turning the faucet fully to cold, he proceeded to splash some water onto his pale face. As he toweled off, he caught a glance of his reflection in the mirror.

Tsumiki had sacrificed herself for the sake of despair, just as he had attempted to offer himself up to hope. They were like a pair of ballroom dancers who had been taught the same routine, yet when brought face-to-face, remained slightly out of step with each other, a fundamental dissonance not unlike an image in a mirror.

In the short time he had had to get acquainted with her, he had been struck by their similarities. Tsumiki was also a person who thought herself to be worthless and unwanted. At first he had thought it was her particular brand of haplessness that set them apart, but that was all just a show, wasn't it? Even before despair had overtaken the sweet, kind girl that everyone felt pity for, Tsumiki had still been playing everyone in a way, forcing people to pay her attention, like that little girl at a birthday, who became petulant when her guests would take among themselves. It was something he could understand in a way and it was hard to really blame her for it, considering the things that she had been through as a child. If he had taken a different attitude toward life, perhaps he could have turned out much the same way, making cheap bids for attention in order to overshadow his shortcomings. In fact, perhaps that was how the others did see him. Either way, up until her grand finale, she had, in truth, been a person that he had hoped to spend more time with. His inklings that perhaps she was the type of person who could understand him had been proven horribly correct following the end of the trial- she did understand him all too well. Had it been due to his luck cycle? Despair rising up to swallow the one person who could understand him? If that was the case, then where was the good luck?

He hung the towel back on the hook, before shuffling back to perch on the edge of his bed.

Had things gone differently, could they have become closer? Could their mutual understanding have grown into a friendship, something more?

He quickly extinguished the idea. Wanting something and being worthy of it were two very different things.

This was getting him no where. He flopped backward, closing his eyes once again, as his legs dangled off the side of the bed. The late nurse would have scolded him for sleeping in such a way. She'd tell him to take better care of himself, making sure he was properly situated under covers so as not to catch cold. Even when she had been mad with despair, she had continued to care for his health until the end, such was her dedication.

He stayed put. His knees would definitely be sore in the morning, he thought, as he felt himself finally drifting off.

Perhaps if someone did use him as a steppingstone toward hope, he'd be able to meet her again. They were surely going to wind up in the same place, after all.

The end