You know, if every time I decide to watch a new anime I get an idea for a fic, this might not end well for me. Still, it's the first time in a while that I managed to get some sort of inspiration, so pluses and minuses. I know this fandom is more dead than alive at this point, but it's one of my favourites, so might as well I suppose. This is a retelling of the events of episode 11. Oreki getting angry was really surprising for me, and a little exciting in all honesty. So I thought, what if he stayed angry? In any case, that's why I'm writing this.
Ibara Mayaka watched as a series of emotions flickered across Oreki's normally blank face. If she wasn't so confused about why the rope they had been shown when meeting the three amateur detectives wasn't a part of the ending he had deduced, the girl might have noticed the hint of fire in his eyes after his mouth thinned back into a straight line. He muttered something under his breath that sounded more like gibberish than anything else, eyes glazing slightly, taking on the sheen that usually meant he was arranging the pieces of the puzzle he had been handed to solve. However, the familiar tugging of his hair wasn't present. As a few seconds of silence slowly stretched to reach a minute, she began to grow irritated. Just as she was about to reach out and snap him out of his daze (and add a few choice words about how he shouldn't be ignoring her), Oreki's eyes regained clarity and zeroed in on the hand reaching for his shoulder. Gently batting it out of the way, he inclined his head in what was probably supposed to be a nod.
"It appears that I was wrong. Thanks, Ibara."
Stunned by the thanks, she watched as he strode out of the classroom, albeit at a quicker pace than normal. Before she could regain her composure, he was already long gone. Frowning, Ibara looked down at her hand, then the screen the movie had been playing on, and lastly the door which her long time annoyance had exited through. Briefly, an image of his face resurfaced in her mind, mouth twisted into something that was half frown, and half something else that she couldn't place.
Something's not right.
Satoshi Fukube ran through the hallways, searching for his best friend, the questions he was about to ask running through his mind. Heading upstairs, his eyes caught sight of Oreki's familiar slumped pose, and while still hurrying to catch up with his receding back, the teenager called out, hoping to draw the attention of the "detective". Much to his surprise, the green-haired boy only noticed him when he had finally closed the distance between them and grabbed his shoulder, jolting before turning around. He appeared to be about to say something, but the words had died on his lips when he saw who had stopped him.
"Where's Mayaka-san?"
"She already left for the Manga Society."
"That's good. Chitanda-san already went home as well, so this is the perfect opportunity."
"You have a question that you don't want them to know about?"
"Yep. Houtarou, was the trick in the movie yours or Hongou-senpai's?"
His friend's mouth tightened, and he looked up into the sky for a few moments, hands concealed by the pockets of his uniform. Before Satoshi could press further in order to get an answer, Houtarou responded.
"I would say that it was Hongou-senpai's…"
"That can't be right," Satoshi argued with a familiar sense of envy bordering on anger at his best friend's insistence on his own normality, "because what you used was a narrative trick."
"Satoshi."
"The thing is that Holmes never used narrative tricks. Apart from a few rare occurrences, the time of narrative tricks came about during Christie's time and a complete newbie to the mystery genre wouldn't know how to pull that off."
"Satoshi."
"Especially since the only books Hongou-senpai read were related to Holmes, so it isn't possible for her to be able to use a narrative trick in her writing."
"Satoshi!"
"I have to admit that it was a good trick that you came up with, but if you call it Hongou-senpai's idea, I will have to disagree. Still, Houtarou—"
"Satoshi!"
Satoshi staggered back in surprise at the sudden outburst from his normally calm companion, finally looking up to meet his eyes instead of continuing his rant like he was planning to do, a retort already brimming on his lips. Still, whatever he had to say was swallowed back down his throat at the pure rage in Houtarou's eyes. Blinking rapidly as the righteous anger that was fuelling his words died a prompt death and was replaced by concern, he was hesitantly attempting to pick the right words to say before the usually placid teenager spoke.
"If you had let me finish, Satoshi, you would have saved us both time and energy. I was about to say that I would have called the narrative trick Hongou-senpai's idea if you had asked me that question an hour earlier. However, I now know that there are several things wrong with my theory, which was what I was about to tell you as well. Conclusion: It was my idea." Houtarou sighed, running a hand through his hair and appearing as calm as ever. He would have been fooled if one, he hadn't known the other for several years already and two, the other couldn't hide his emotions to save his life. Usually, Satoshi would use that information to gauge when he could take a joke as far as he usually did, or whenever he needed a pick-me-up on the rare occasions he showed that he was feeling anything other than bored or content. Now, that knowledge of his best friend was setting off his danger radar.
Houtarou's eyes could usually be compared to those of a koi fish swimming lazily in a pond, completely in its element and at ease. Now, however, they were burning with anger, and not just the slight irritation that he displayed whenever Mayaka-san or himself poked fun at him. This was rage in its most potent form, and coming from this teenager of all people, it was nearly enough to get him to start prostating on the ground and beg for forgiveness. It was best to do damage control now before this newly displayed anger of his found whatever target it was searching for. He settled for what he hoped was a convincing smile before asking the question that was on his mind, praying that he wasn't about to die an unfortunate death.
"Ne, Houtarou, what's got you all worked up?"
"For once in my life, I thought that someone actually believed that I possessed something useful, a talent that I shouldn't pretend came about just through luck. That I was morally obligated to help out others whenever I could. Instead, it appears that I've been played for a fool." following his words was a drawn out sigh that sounded more like a growl. Satoshi shivered as a chill ran down his spine. For the first time in a very long time, someone had managed to push all of Houtarou's buttons at once, followed by pushing them again just for good measure. The unfortunate soul had somehow managed to reveal to him his innate ability to deduce things from the smallest pieces of information and used his inability to help people despite claiming he was planning to live a life that allowed him to save as much energy as possible against him. Afterwards, by some stroke of luck(or misfortune depending on whose perspective you were looking from), Houtarou managed to figure out that he was being tricked. A memory from earlier surfaced, when he had linked the tarot card "Strength" to his friend, and internally, Satoshi prayed that he would never figure out the underhanded insult he had managed to slip in due to Houtarou's lack of knowledge.
"I see. You know, with your motto and all, it's weird to see you so emotional. I don't think I've ever been able to see you display this much emotion over something."
A dark chuckle escaped his friend's mouth, and a serious feeling of wrongness caused Satoshi to shiver once more. Taking several steps back, he shuffled his feet awkwardly, trying to figure out how to leave without triggering a death flag. He sincerely hoped that the aura of darkness around Houtarou was something brought about by an overactive imagination. The other options did not bode well for him, or anyone else that decided it was a good idea to annoy him in this berserk state. Before he could, though, the greenette offered him a relatively normal smile and a wave, turning back around.
"I'll see you tomorrow Satoshi. I have a couple of things I need to do."
He gulped, but offered his own farewell in response, taking the offer for what it was.
A chance to escape.
Really hope the "things" he need to do don't involve murder.
"Oreki-san!" Chitanda Eru called out to her clubmate, quickening her steps as much as she dared while guiding her bicycle along. Not that it exactly mattered. He was sitting by the riverside, looking deep in thought. Still, as soon as her words left her mouth, his head perked up. She smiled slightly despite the fact that she was still feeling conflicted over the matter of Hongou-senpai's missing ending. One would think that if Oreki-san was a cat, his ears would have twitched.
Carefully parking her bicycle and ensuring it wouldn't fall over, she took a seat next to him. Interestingly enough, he made no effort to acknowledge her other than his reaction in the beginning, but that wasn't exactly surprising considering the lengths he would go to in order to conserve energy. What she was more curious about was the reason behind his change in demeanor. More often than not, Oreki-san's gaze would be firmly set on the floor, only moving when someone decided to disturb his peace. However, he appeared to be burning holes into his phone. Chitanda noted the way his eyes seemed to smoulder, then the white-knuckled grip he had on the device in his hands. If anything else, this was the first time she had seen him so worked up over something. She sat in semi-awkward silence, wondering, for the first time, whether she should keep her questions to herself rather than irritate Oreki-san even more. It was certainly a foreign sensation, especially since he was always the one she could definitely turn to whenever she needed a question to be answered, or help with her problems. After a few minutes, he broke the silence, dispelling the unpleasant sensation that was beginning to brew in her gut.
"I suppose you're here to tell me the ending of that movie was wrong as well, Chitanda-san?" she swallowed slightly, but nodded and was about to speak up before he interjected.
"Before you say anything, I want to lay down a couple of things I already know. Firstly, the ending was my product, rather than that of Hongou-senpai. Secondly, I may have an idea of the true ending. If you have to say anything, make sure that it's actual useful information and not just your own opinion on the matter." Oreki-san's voice could probably freeze water with how cold it was, and the phantom sensation of the surrounding temperature dropping crept over her like a blanket of frost. Still, he brought up some good points, and it was a little refreshing to see the normally corpse-like Oreki-san stand up for himself, even if it was more frightening than she would like.
It took a while, and by the time she finished confessing her thoughts on the matter, the sun was already about to disappear. Oreki-san said nothing more after his opening words, choosing only to hum and nod at certain periods. She would usually chalk this up as his attention slowly slipping away as he drifted off to sleep, but it was clear that his mind was hard at work. Wringing her hands to disperse some of the nervous energy she had built up, Chitanda nearly jumped out of her skin when he stood up abruptly. Turning to meet her startled gaze, his lips twitched to form a pale facsimile of a smile, and she felt a certain sense of relief at how the anger in his eyes weren't directed at her.
"Thank you, Chitanda-san. I've figured it all out now." he bowed almost formally, slinging his bag over his shoulder before turning round.
"Oreki-san!" the words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them, and Chitanda almost immediately regretted her decision when a pair of dead looking eyes locked her in place. Still, she pushed past the feeling that every word after would aid her in digging her own grave and spoke.
"What happened to you?"
"Nothing much." his smile from earlier now resembled a snarl more than anything else.
"I'm just really angry."
And in the fading sunlight, she could have sworn that his eyes were glowing.
I got bored. There'll be a follow-up to this of course, but this was something I had to write just so that it would get out of my mind. Hope you enjoyed.