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Golden Butterflies

(Umineko no Naku Koro ni crossover)

"You should be grateful, you know. I granted you your heart's desire, after all."

I glared at the woman. The gesture was not as impressive as I wished given that I was crouched on a toiled seat while she was looming over me.

The bathroom stall was not the most comfortable place to hide, but it was hard to find some privacy, however fleeting, in an Endbringer shelter, especially after the murders.. I desperately wished to be back in my room. It wouldn't help me to avoid this conversation, but at least it would be a home territory. But with the damage done by Leviathan to the city all exits were effectively blocked. It would take at least another couple of hours before we could finally leave this place.

"This isn't what I wanted," I said, mentally berating myself for answering to the provocation.

"Oh?" She smirked. I hated her smirk. She looked almost exactly like me - no, exactly like I wanted to be, down to the frilly dress I'd never had a courage to wear - except for her expressions. I certainly didn't want to look so cruel. "And yet you kept journals detailing all kinds of things that were done to you. Why do it if not to remind yourself of your hatred? And why do that if you don't plan to act on it?"

I glared at her again. The second glare felt even less impressive than the first.

"You are not even real," I said, burying my head between the knees. "Leave me alone."

"Still denying me? Yet Emma was killed where she slept, with no one noticing. You should've seen the look on her face as she slowly realized just what was going on... Surely you must admit that I am the obvious culprit."

"The potential witnesses could've been asleep," I rebuked, the argument feeble even to my ears.

"Several people in a position to witness Emma's death were awake and aware." I hated the red text. And I hated myself for agreeing to play her game. I could deny the truth of red, yes, but that would just send us back to square one, to endless debates that simply don't lead anywhere and never end. At least now there was a sense of progress. At least now I had a weapon giving me a semblance of confidence.

"A new cape, then. One with the power to kill unnoticed. It is not unheard of for new capes to emerge right after an Endbringer attack. And this place is stressful enough that it is not hard to believe that someone who just gained superpowers would snap."

"Emma's parents and sister were killed too. A cape targeting a single family?" She laughed gleefully, without restrain. I almost envied her the ability to laugh like that. "I made sure to let Emma know exactly whom to blame."

"It could happen," I said, refusing the bait. "He or she could even think of it as a mercy: to take down the whole family rather than let them be divided."

"Is that how you feel about your mother?" she asked in a mockingly-concerned voice. "Do you wish Danny was... more merciful?"

"Fuck you."

She laughed for a long time.

"And what about the pattern?" she asked, turning serious once again. Or what passed as serious with her always-present smirk. "Isn't it clear that Emma's death is but the next in the chain after Madison and Sophia?"

"The murders are not necessary related."

She smirked again, and I felt the trap closing.

"Do you believe it in your heart?"

Not a red text or a blue or any other color. Just words, yet they managed to destroy my argument completely. I didn't truly believe it, no. The pattern was too clear in my mind. And so I could not honestly argue it, even though it was not an official rule of our game. It felt wrong. I did not know if there would be any kind of consequences for breaking this unspoken rule, yet I was afraid to take the risk.

I changed the approach instead.

"It could be someone with a grudge against Sophia. She was a brutal vigilante not afraid to use lethal force. It is plausible that she'd made many enemies. After her outing, the revenge was a strong possibility." I winced at the memory. That was a messy affair. Sophia was revealed to be Shadow Stalker on live television. Even though she went into Protectorate's protection program, she was found dead a few months later in a room closed from the inside. The PRT even questioned me, clearly desperate for a suspect. I had an iron-clad alibi for both her outing and murder, however. "Targeting her friends fits the pattern as well."

"Madison was killed before Sophia was outed," came the reply. "How would the culprit know to target her?"

"The culprit could be the one behind the outing. First he or she murdered Madison, then outed Sophia, then either murdered her or let her other enemies do the job." If there was any benefit for me from this game, it would be the improvement of my rhetoric.

"But Emma was killed after Sophia," she rebutted smoothly. It was probably her plan all along. "What's the point in taking revenge on a corpse?"

I was silent.

"Just admit it: I am the only one with the motive, capability and knowledge necessary to carry out those murders."

It wasn't true.

"There..."

It was her game from the beginning.

"There is another plausible culprit."

It was the power she claimed as the Witch of Escalation: no matter how strong or cunning or vicious the opponent was, she always had a counter that would hurt them more than they could hurt her. Any triumph against her or those blessed by her could be turned into a Pyhrric victory.

"There is a person with a grudge against Emma. The one who had reasons to take everything from her. The one who could, through an accident, learn about Sophia's secret identity. Giving the circumstances of that person's life, it is plausible that a trigger would occur eventually. It is not impossible that the powers would allow to carry out the murders undiscovered by anyone."

In the end, it was the only choice left to me. All others paths were illusions.

I could acknowledge her existence and become her furniture, an extension of her will...

Or I could become her. A witch. A murderer.

"I did it."

With the final proclamation, I was left alone in the bathroom stall. The woman was still there, but there was no life in her eyes. She was but a painting in the air, perfect and still.

Did I steal that life? Did I kill her? Or was she always just an expression of my power, a projection acting on my darkest desires?

It was pointless to wonder. The box was sealed now. All that remained was the truth I crafted for myself.

I sighed, and as I let out the breath, the woman dissolved into thousands golden butterflies.