The mounds of paper sprawled out on the table in front of me blurred into one big cursive mess. With a sigh, I propped my elbows up on the table and buried my face into my hands, blocking out the faint yellow light that the lamp weakly emitted. I wasn't getting any closer to the truth, and admittedly, it felt as if I were running out of time, fast. Instead of investigating the new culprit, I was still hyper-focused on the mastermind. While I felt inclined to trust Kaito and Maki, everyone seemed to stand on equal grounds. I had no reason to trust, or distrust unfairly. I felt my heart rate begin to incline as pink-splattered stone called for the attention of my eyes, and the resistance only caused scenes of horror to run through my mind. Angie's pale corpse, lifeless on the floor, her blood seeping into the wood below her. That gold katana arbitrarily stabbed through Kaede's effigy… the thought made me sick to my stomach, which luckily, was already empty. My breathing picked up, and honestly, I was starting to get used to that kind of thing. The rapid breathing, the constant feeling of exhaustion, it all started coming on more naturally to me. Biting the inside of my cheek, I took a deep breath in, letting remnants of Angie's voice fill my head.
"Focus is easy to teach, Shuichi! The key is… breathing!"
'In through the nose,' I told myself, 'Out through the mouth.' I breathed deeper, feeling my body slowly coming back to its senses. I hadn't really given this a try since I was with Angie in the dining hall. It still helped, but without her here to guide me through it, the experience seemed… dull. With a final exhale, I dragged my hands down the length of my cheeks and gave myself an awakening slap, before dropping them. The papers looked less blurry, though I could still barely grasp what they said.
With a heavy creak and a gust of chilling air sending the corners of my papers afloat, an eerie, sinister voice rang out. "It is time to perform the seance, Saihara."
'That's… unsettling,' I thought, glaring over at Korekiyo who was hiding behind the door frame. I nodded my head towards him before turning back to collect my documents.
More blood- it burned my eyes like a blinding light, my body shaking like a reed in the wind, Himiko's long, shrill hallows bouncing off every wall in the room. Only a minute ago, Tenko was smiling, preaching, giving this long, sincere speech full of confidence and strength. Now, she lay curled into a ball on the floor, her own blood streaming down the curves of her neck and face.
Himiko continued to wail, Korekiyo seemed to be studying the body from afar, and I glanced over at Ouma, who looked distraught. It was that weird, undeterminable look again, that I honestly couldn't get out of my head. But that was a mystery I'd have to focus on later.
The few students who weren't participating in the ritual- Keebo, Gonta and Tsumugi trudged through the door, all bearing the same looks of horror in their eyes. Kaito followed, then Maki slowly but sternly marched through the door, arms crossed authoritatively. She took a single glance towards the scene of the crime before striding directly towards me.
"Shuichi, explain the situation." she demanded, "I thought you were conducting the seance. What happened?" Her voice held conviction as she stared me down, no sign of granting me any benefit of the doubt. I couldn't make sense of it. All we did was blow out the candles and sing that menacing song… how did Tenko manage to get stabbed without anyone realizing it?
"I- I don't know… What's happening?" I stuttered, partially just thinking out loud. I gulped as I caught her glare. Kaito stayed quiet but placed his hand over my trembling shoulder in both comfort, and defence.
"It's funny how you're the one passing the blame, Maki-roll." Ouma sneered from across the room. Maki clenched her fist, though it almost seemed like Kaito was more annoyed at Ouma's taunting use of the nickname. Maki took a step forward.
"Do you want to die?" she barked. Ouma, unphased by her stance, leisurely strolled towards us, any ounce of visible fear had vanished from his expression. He raised a finger to his chin, insolently pretending to brainstorm.
"We were in here with Tenko the whole time, and she was all alive and well," Ouma explained before turning towards me and shooting an imperilling gaze. "Isn't that right, detective?"
I froze. His thoughts were far ahead of mine. I was still trying to process the sight of Tenko's lifeless body, bloodied and knocked over in such an ungraceful manner before my very eyes. The metallic scent of her warm blood slowly filled the room and sent waves of nausea through my stomach.
"Well… that's true," I agreed nervously. Maki turned her head, only enough so she could see me from her peripheral.
"Then tell me, detective, how could I kill someone I wasn't even near?" Maki fumed. Her voice was instigative as if she were daring me to answer. Even though my odd relationship with Maki was beginning to expand, I couldn't deny that she was more than intimidating.
"I never said that you did it-" I began, but Ouma interjected again.
"Isn't it true that Tenko approached you asking for a little favour?" he inferred, placing one foot in front of him. Maki said nothing, leaving only Himiko's cries to be heard, and each one struck deeper.
"Are you tryna' say that Tenko asked Maki to kill her? That's just crazy!" Kaito stepped in, moving his hand from my back to his side and pulling it into a tight fist. Ouma rolled his eyes, lifting an annoyed scowl to his lips upon hearing Kaito's voice.
"I'm saying there's a motive here- and it wouldn't be hard for a cold-blooded killer like Maki to pull off." The space between us fell silent, and a few of the other students had caught on to our altercation and began to eavesdrop. Maki was only playing it safe, presumably keeping her thoughts to herself until the trial like she usually did. Though it did seem to decrease the trust of everyone else. Kaito and I shared a glance, uneasy as the Maki and Ouma continued their stand down- neither willing to break. It wasn't until the Monokubs showed up to cut the tension by rallying the group into a collective discussion.
It was surely an odd place to be, but once the group departed from each other, I was drawn towards the pool. I sat atop the cold tile, staring into the shallow pool water. While I kept count of my breaths slowly in my head I pulled my knees up to my chest and watched as the speckles of dust floated around the water's surface as I flicked a piece of rubble into it. It was beginning to happen again; the zoning out, the buzzing in my ears, that frustrating state where my mind raced with thoughts that popped up like fireflies. Though, I did come to the realization that it gets worse each time I see another lost life. I felt so tired, and at that point I had forgotten how many hours it had been since I had actually gotten a decent sleep. Letting my eyes flutter close, I continued counting— and like clockwork, a familiar boyish voice chimed out.
"There's Shuichi!" Ouma skipped through the door, pushing it into a rather heavy slam that caused me to jump. I came here to be alone, to get my head straightened out so I could go solve the case, and the interruption mixed with my already pounding chest only vexed me more. Though I only averted my eyes back to the floor. Ouma continued towards me, stopping at my side and dropping to the floor. "That seance was weiiird."
He looked down in front of him, almost mimicking my own stance, and began picking at the nature that had begun overtaking the building. I pulled my knees tighter, wrapping my arms around them and tugging on the ends of my hair. "Why did you provoke Maki today?"
He seemed a little surprised by the inquiry, but didn't stop plucking out blades of grass from between the tiles. "Because it's fun to see her get so riled up over nothing. I think that I can make her snap and really kill someone! —But that might take a while." he said with something of determination in his voice, though something seemed off. The sentence itself wasn't out of character, but there was a hint of desperation in his delivery. It was so frustrating to know that everything I had come to learn about Ouma could be entirely fabricated.
"Then who do you think did it?" I asked quietly, turning closer in his direction. Ouma threw his arms back to hold himself up, staring up at the ceiling lights as if they were a sky.
"I dunno yet. Though, it's a shame there won't be another trial… The culprit wasted a perfectly good kill!"
"Shut up!" I shouted, my voice suddenly gaining volume. I clenched my fist, digging the tips of my nails into my palm. My gaze hadn't left the floor, but I could feel Ouma's smile fading. "How can you just crack jokes like that? How can you pretend to enjoy this hell?" I finally looked over at Ouma, who didn't reply. Instead, he stared blankly at me, eyebrows slanted above glistening eyes. It was odd that he made no attempt to refute, however with my mind racing like a windstorm, and my voice hitched, I continued. "I don't believe you, Kokichi. You're just as afraid as the rest of us. Every lie you spur is only masking a layer of misery, and I'm getting tired of hearing you act like this is all some damn game!"
My eyes burned, face flushed and warm, as I bit down on the inside skin of my cheek. Tears threatening to fall only made me angrier. The fact that I couldn't bring myself to cry since Kaede's death until now— In the presence of anyone else, I might not have felt as ashamed about my feelings, but with Ouma, I knew I was setting myself up for ridicule. Yet I couldn't decipher what was really making me so frustrated. Am I really acting like this because of stupid comments by Ouma? Am I actually angry at him, or am I just looking for an outlet? I watched as Ouma's eye traced down the side of my cheek. Reaching up, I touched my fingertips to my skin, dampening them in the progress. I had begun to cry— and there was no stopping myself.
I let my head fall and turn away from Ouma, who seemed to be dumbfounded. I could feel the hairs on my body stand up straight, a mix of vexation and embarrassment only fueling me. My breathing caught, and I struggled to exhale, letting out breaths in a sputtered pattern as I shook. The thoughts in my head were spinning too fast to grasp even one, and I had no idea what to say to Ouma. "Damn it!" I exclaimed desperately. My breathing grew faster and more off-beat by the second, and tears were escaping my eyes like a stormcloud.
"Shuichi…" Ouma finally managed, yet he sounded apprehensive to even speak. The same, confused look remained on his face, however, it almost seemed like he was trembling too. It was hard to tell through my own clouded vision. I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was off-breathing and a subtle whimper escaping my throat.
Suddenly, I felt a presence lingering closer to my side, then a pressure on the hand that was still clamped shut, nails digging into skin, and practically numb. Letting my eyes snap open, I saw Ouma's fingers sternly, yet gently burying into the space between my grip. I was surprised, but in that moment, nothing seemed particularly real, so I complied with his movements, loosening my grip to allow his hand to cover mine and engulf my fingers. As the excess blood began rushing out of my hand, I began to regain feeling and a slight burning sensation emerged, probably from the sweat on Ouma's palm mixing into the broken skin on mine. I grasped his hand tighter as I choked on the air caught in my tight throat. As I squeezed tighter, Ouma matched my grip, strengthening it as I did, but not loosening after. I wondered why, but the pressure sent waves of shivers through my body. It made the spinning in my head lose power. Weirdly, it made me feel grounded.
"Why…?" I managed softly, fluttering my eyes open to observe. Ouma's small hand, skin tinted red and gripped around mine as if for dear life. I was waiting for him to lie, to say something witty or cruel just to break me- but instead, he said something I would never have expected to come out of his mouth.
"'Cause I am afraid, too," he spoke, quietly and shamefully, as if admitting guilt. It shocked me more than him grabbing my hand. There was so much sincerity in his voice this time, and I could feel the muscles in his hand twitch as he trembled alongside me. "But being around you makes me feel like we actually have a chance."
Part of me felt like I was beginning to calm, until Ouma said that, and it broke me. It was just too familiar. "I'd be a mess if you weren't here. I wouldn't have been able to do anything… I would've been so lost…" her voice filled my head like poison. It hurt too badly to let myself think about her smiling face, but the memories kept appearing like ghosts. "I'm glad you're here with me, Shuichi. With you by my side, I feel like I can stand up to anything." I was shivering, but I was also sweating from head to toe, engulfing all my energy into trying to breathe, despite the fact that it felt like I was being suffocated. I let myself give in to the enervation, quickly pulling my hand away and letting my body fall limp to the side, landing draped over Ouma's crossed legs. I clenched the fabric of his jacket and let myself continue to sob uncontrollably into it as he pulled his arm from beneath me and placed it on my upper back. I felt his arm jolt upwards with every heave of my breath, but he still began to stroke his hand up and down, gently and steadily. His jacket still smelled like the air in the dining hall from lunch; it was sweet and almost pacifying, like fresh bread and fruit hanging from market stalls back home. I felt as my depleting muscles began to settle down, likely thankful for not being held up and strained any longer. My whole body was in tingles and it felt like I was melting deeper into Ouma's lap. The friction from his hand warming my back began to resemble that of a heavy blanket, causing my eyes to flutter shut. My thoughts continued to race, but the volume slowly faded away as I drowsed off.
