Wakana

I'd been thinking of staying in bed tonight, perhaps just listening to music, or something, but in the end, I decided against it, and gathered my music book, some pens and a pencil, and headed downstairs for another night of working on my new pieces. I sat at the table, and flipped open to the last page I'd written on, and considered for a moment before picking up a pen and starting to make more edits, hearing the notes play out in my head and trying to imagine them as they'd be played by my orchestra. Or anyone, really, anyone who wanted to experience music in this way.

"I see you're burning the midnight oil again."

I looked up to see Akira come in, and I nodded.

"Yeah." I agreed. "Looks like you're doing the same too though?"

I pointed to the note paper and the pen in his hand, and he looked down at them for a moment before shrugging.

"Shopping list." He said by way of explanation.

"For tomorrow?" I asked, though I didn't really need to.

"Yeah. I thought of it, and I was awake anyway, so I thought I may as well." Akira explained.

"Fair enough." I acknowledged.

Akira nodded at me, and then went around the kitchen, opening everything in turn and riffling through before pausing to write on the sheet of paper, and then closing up and moving on. Though I returned to my own work, I occasionally looked up to watch, and I wondered. Do they do things like this? Did Munakata sometimes decide to burn the midnight oil at his kitchen table, doing the things he could not do during the day? Did Sakakura perhaps do something similar? Did they keep each other company if they realised the other was awake, or even if it came as a surprise to them each night? And what of Yukizome? Though she wouldn't be able to wander the house as easily as Munakata or Sakakura did, how often did she need company in the night, or how often did she give that company? Or maybe they didn't have those kind of habits, but from seeing them together, I was sure that if they were, they would never, ever be alone in it.

"You still look grey, Wakana. I think you should have a rest."

"Ah, no." My stomach churned a little as I shook my head, but I still managed to smile tightly. "I'll just get a glass of water, or something."

Daisuke considered this, and nodded.

"Alright, I'll come with you. Kitchen?"

"Yeah." I confirmed.

We walked in silence to the kitchen as everyone else went their own ways, though when we did get there we found that Erica and Kimihiro had had a similar idea to us and had also gone to get some water.

"Oh, hey there!" Erica said cheerfully. I gave her a smile out of politeness, and Daisuke nodded as we went to pour ourselves some water. I caught Kimihiro's eye, and he pulled a face, but didn't say anything until we came over with our glasses and leaned against the counter.

"Well, this makes things interesting, doesn't it?" Erica proclaimed almost immediately.

"Interesting?" Daisuke asked mildly, though he clearly disagreed.

"Well, sure!" Erica continued. "That was the most visceral and hard-hitting motive yet! Someone's definitely going to give in to it, you know! How could you not?"

"No." I burst out almost immediately. I understood why she would say that about this motive but….

"No? Abe-san, people have killed for less than this already, and in this very situation!" Erica exclaimed. "And this was Yukizome-sensei, our beloved Yukizome-sensei…."

Erica trailed off, and for a moment I thought I saw some trace of agony on her features, but it was quickly overshadowed by her usual sunny smile as she rapidly drained the last bits of water in her glass and set it down by the side.

"Well, I'm going to go pick Iwafusa-san's brains a while, see you later!"

"Bye." I said as she scooted out of there.

For a moment, the three of us just stared, and then Kimihiro sighed.

"Why did it sound so wrong when she said 'pick Iwafusa-san's brains'?" he asked absently.

"Somehow, I don't think she meant it like that." Daisuke commented drily.

"No, no, I know…." Kimihiro pulled another face, and then shrugged. "Never mind, I feel a bit mean even thinking it, though she does come off like she doesn't care about what we just saw…"

"I'm not so sure it's a case of her not caring." I ventured, thinking of the small flash of emotion I'd seen.

"Mmmm." Kimihiro said non-commitally.

We didn't say anything for a moment, all of us stuck in our own thoughts.

"Who misses her?"

"Huh?" Kimihiro looked confused.

"What do you mean, Wakana?" Daisuke asked.

"I….Yukizome-sensei. I mean, our families and friends are probably looking for us, right? Or assuming they realise we're here specifically, they'll probably be trying to get us out…"

I let my words fade away as I realised I didn't know if that was true. I knew there were people who missed us all, but were they looking for us? Were they trying to get us out? I couldn't believe that they wouldn't be, but four of us had died already, we'd been here for almost two weeks, and we were still stuck exactly where we were.

"She has a husband, doesn't she?" Daisuke remembered, filling in for me. "She's mentioned him a few times, his first name's Kyosuke but that's all I remember about him really. "

"Oh, yeah, I think I've heard her talk about him too! Sounds like true love to me….lucky, she is." Kimihiro agreed. "Edano-Chan might know more, she talked to Yukizome-sensei all the time."

"Ah….yeah, I think I remember….." I thought about it. "But someone misses her, that's the main thing I wanted to know…it doesn't make it better, but…"

"At least it's something." Daisuke filled in for me once again, and I nodded gratefully.

"Yeah."

Half-noticing Akira frown, I mentally shoved the memory to a side.

"What's wrong, Kazama-Chan?"

"Huh? Oh, the pen's run out." He said, coming back over to the table. I glanced at his shopping list, where a word halfway down the list was only half-written.

"That's a lot of things on there, but then I suppose that's not really a surprise, is it. Here, use this."

"Thanks. And honestly, I don't really mind that we're getting through stuff quickly. It's nice to have you all here, so it's all worth it."

Akira took my pen, and quickly filled in the word, which was 'tea bags', then he wrote down a few more items, before handing it back.

"Thank you." I said, not just meaning the pen. It took a beat or two, but Akira blinked at that and stared at me, seeming to formulate a response.

"This was a family home. My family home, specifically, obviously. But this was a family home, a house meant to be a home to a family. Five people used to live here, and now there's just me. "

And it was not meant to be that way, I mentally filled in for him. I smiled at him.

"I understand."

Akira stood up again, and went to stick the shopping list on the fridge. He contemplated it for a moment, then turned back to me.

"Well, I'll be back off to bed now. Goodnight, Wakana-san."

"Night, Kazama-Chan."

I watched him go, and then I returned to my music.

…

Some time went by without me really being aware of it, and the next time I looked up, Tyson was approaching the table.

"Oh, you surprised me!" I exclaimed. "How long have you been here?"

"I just came down." Tyson blinked blearily at me. He looks as tired as I feel. As if on cue, I yawned, muffling it with my hand. He regarded me as he came to sit down next to me.

"I was wondering if you'd be down here, Ma'am." He stated casually, though his gaze was careful. "Though I suppose it's not that much of a surprise to see you down here anyway. "

"I suppose it isn't." I agreed.

At that, there was a pause. I looked to Tyson, waiting for him to say something, and he stared back, waiting for me to say something.

I poked my head around the door and saw that Chieko was awake, though she was lying down on the bed. She hadn't changed into the new pyjamas that had been provided for her though-they were still sitting there, folded in a neat pile with a wide ribbon tied around them the way they tended to be in department stores, on the pillow next to her.

"Hey, can I come in?"

"Mhm."

I opened the door wider, came in, shut it behind me, and went to perch on the edge of her bed. I picked up the pyjama set, put it on my lap and fiddled with the ribbon.

"Has everyone else gone to bed yet?" she asked quietly.

"Ah, Noriko-Chan and Ho-Chi are still up chatting, and I think De Guerre-Chan's at least gone to his room, if not actually to bed. I'm not sure what Kita-Chan or Kazama-Chan are doing though." I answered.

"Oh." Chieko blinked at me for a moment, then slowly sat up. I shuffled aside to give her space until she was sitting up, cross-legged. She stared at the pyjamas but didn't ask for them. I handed them over anyway, and she took it wordlessly, playing with the ribbon as I had just been doing.

"Chieko-Chan, is there something the matter?" I asked after a few moments of this.

This was what I'd come here for. I hadn't quite been able to put my finger on it, but there seemed to be something bothering Chieko, something separate to everything else there was to be bothered about. I knew she had gone to identify Koutarou's body a few days ago, back when we were still in the hospital, and I'd helped to confirm Daisuke's identity just the day before that, so perhaps that had had something to do with things. But I wasn't sure, and if it was something I could help with, I wanted to know.

"I…" Chieko looked up from the pyjama set and stared at me. I waited, and then she took a deep breath as if gearing up to say something.

Eventually, Tyson was the one to cave, such as it were.

"Are you still scared?"

I gawped, and it took a moment for me to remember what I had admitted yesterday, while sitting in this very seat. I'm scared of what it'll be like, when I get back. Silence, but not comfortable, not necessary, not calming. Not even awkward, which would at least be alright, because awkward silences were part and parcel of any life. But huge and cavernous, an all-consuming and lonely silence. As the days and weeks and months and years had gone by, I'd learnt the art of solitude, adapted to this life of mine that could only be called a lonely one, even with the friends and success I had. I'd made it my new normal, and embraced it. Not happily, but I'd done it well with it.

Yet now here in this family home that was full for the first time in seven years, it was all coming undone.

All these nights of sitting here and talking while writing my music and drinking glasses of milk or water, of waiting and wondering if someone else would be awake and now I was forgetting how to be. I was longing for something that I knew was impossible. The new normality I had adjusted to was falling apart in front of me, and I wasn't sure how I'd be able to return to it or even if I would be able to at all.

And yet, in just over a few days' time, that was exactly what would be happening.

"Yeah," I admitted, though I hated to. "Yeah, I'm scared."

…

Noriko

Yawning, I almost didn't realise that there were people in the kitchen until I was almost in there. Skidding to a halt, I listened for a moment just so that I'd know who it was before I made myself known. Carefully, I crept forward and peered around to see Wakana and Tyson sitting at the table, next to each other, leaning close to each other as they talked about something I couldn't quite hear. They weren't actually touching, but all the same it seemed as if they were. An embrace, but not a physical one. Ethereal, metaphorical, metaphysical? None of those descriptors sounded even vaguely right but then again there was a reason that Sachiko was the writer in our friendship rather than me.

I'd been ready to burst in and greet them, but now, not so much. What's going on? Curious, I stared, and tried to pick out words, but even though there was no reason for them to presume that someone was listening (even though I was doing just that), they were talking low enough that even the most expert eavesdropper would have trouble, something not helped by the fact that they were so close to each other. But my curiosity remained, so I remained there, and then a memory snuck up upon me.

"So, wait….that means….." I struggled. "That means that you killed her in front of me? I watched her being killed, and I didn't even realise?"

"Edano-san, under the circumstances, you could not have been expected to kn-"

Daisuke's reassuring (well, I thought it was meant to be reassuring anyway) statement was cut off by Hironori laughing and laughing. Clearly, everything was funny about this.

"Yup, exactly!" he grinned. "That is exactly what happened? How does that make you feel, hmmm?"

The answer to that was 'like absolute crap', and still remained so. At the time though, I hadn't said anything-it was instead Masashi who chipped in with a sarcastic response in my defense, and it hadn't taken long after that for us to wrap up loose ends and vote him as the killer, and watch his execution-Hironori, strung up as a puppet, an execution I still couldn't make sense of (not that there was any sense to be made in any of the executions anyway). It would be a lie to say that I had never felt so helpless, because there were so many more moments of horror back then that made us all helpless and that was just one of the earliest ones, but there was something about that trial, about that revelation. It was the particular devastation of realisation, of knowing that I had been right there but that nothing could be done, nothing at all.

And for some reason, I was feeling it now.

Woah, hold up, Riko, have you lost your mind? This was not the same thing, not at all. Whatever this was, it looked like Tyson was comforting Wakana, or they were just comforting each other generally. This had nothing to do with me at all. It was an intimate moment, one I had no place in. I was watching, but there was nothing for me to intervene in. 'Nothing' was exactly what I was meant to do.

So that was what I did, by turning away and sneaking back upstairs, completely unnoticed.

…

Wakana

At least, I thought, I'm not crying. Silly for me to care, but it was at least something to hold onto, when I wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel anymore.

"Ah, I did it again."

After all that, I couldn't look Tyson in the eye, even though he'd been nothing but kind and understanding. Yet, I couldn't do what the right thing would have been either-move my chair away back to a respectful distance, straighten up, smile and pretend that I was fine now and ask after Tyson, instead. Sorry.

"You didn't do anything though. Not anything that needs apologising for anyway." Tyson responded, to all that I had not said.

"I….but I….." I stumbled over my words, all of them having dried up after I'd spilled out my heart.

There was another moment of nothingness, and then without word or warning, Tyson embraced me. His hold was solid and more assured than last night and I was being held closely enough that my face felt a bit squashed, but in a nice way.

"I should apologise, for not asking this time."

"Mhm, it's okay."

After a moment of hesitation, I decided to put my arms around him too, though warily so. And we remained like that, for a number of moments I could not count. This, too. I'm starting to want this, too. By staying like this I knew I was just making it harder for me to return back home, just worsening the inevitable. But it felt good too, something akin to hope and everything that word meant before the definition got ruined. This, too.

After a moment, Tyson let go, and so did I. Straightened again, I became brave enough to look back up at him again.

"Are you okay for now?" he asked carefully, searching my face, his own carefully solemn.

I was about to reply with a cheerful yes, but I stopped myself. Somehow, it was important that I was honest, even though I'd dumped enough on him tonight.

"I'll get through it." I chose to answer instead.

"Indeed."

Then, he did something unexpected-he reached over, and closed my notebook, placed my pens and pencils on top of the cover, then picked up the pile and held it out to me so it was right between us. I looked down, confused, and then back up at him.

"Do you think you could try to sleep for the rest of tonight?"

I tilted my head slightly and frowned.

"At least try? I'll try too, with you, so you won't be alone." Tyson blinked and considered, and then even more unexpectedly, he let out a laugh.

"The wording of that sounded a great deal better in my head, I promise." He explained, shaking his head.

"It's alright, I understood what you meant." I smiled back, before becoming serious again. "But….yeah, I can try…."

"And that's all I can ask for." Tyson stated.

"So….." I carefully tugged my notebook out of Tyson's hands, and mustered another smile. "Okay then."

…

We walked up the stairs together, perfectly in sync, and then each headed towards the doors of our bedroom. Once in front of mine, I paused, and turned to see Tyson waiting at his door, hand on the handle.

"Good night, De Guerre-Chan. And….thank you."

Tyson nodded, and gave me a salute.

"Good night, Ma'am."