req·ui·em (noun) ; an act or token of remembrance.

She wasn't quite sure why she kept coming out to the student gardens every afternoon.

For the past couple months, without fail, she's found herself there among patches of carefully cultivated flowers and herbs, as if her feet carried her there without thinking. A couple months ago, she'd known next to nothing about taking care of plants; she knew which plants were edible, and which could be harvested for both poisons and medicine alike, but nothing about how to grow and care for them. In some ways, it reflected her relationship with other people; she knew anatomy and physiology, she knew psychology and sociology. She could read them so predictably that she had her classmates convinced she could hear their very thoughts ― and yet, genuine connection eluded her.

As she knelt down to transfer a blooming plant from its pot to its new permanent home in the dirt, she realized just how foreign this felt to her ― gardening required a certain kind of tenderness, especially with some of the more delicate flowers. She was meticulous, yes, and always careful, but tender? It might as well have been another language, and yet for some reason she felt determined to learn it. She dug out a small, shallow hole before removing the plant and cradling it within its new nest, gently moving the loosened earth around it.

She'd started coming to the garden ever since she followed a boy out here ― well, stalked. He hadn't noticed her until he'd entered the small shed, and she popped up behind him. Kawamura Naoki. He was in a different class from her, but he recognized her as the leader of her own, and seemed excited at the thought of another student taking interest in gardening. As far as he knew, he was the only student who came out regularly to tend to the plants, and he took it very seriously ― probably because he didn't have any friends. She knew because none of his classmates could tell her much about him when she asked; few had ever even questioned where he disappeared to in the afternoons, and none actually knew. Apparently he was very quiet in his dorm room, so much so that the neighboring students could never tell if he was even there, let alone when he left or returned.

He probably thought, when she showed up to the shed and began asking him about the garden, that he'd finally found a kindred spirit. It didn't take much effort to get him lost in his own talking, to get him distracted. With his back turned to her, it was all too easy for her hand to reach out, fingers coiling around the handle of a hammer ― and with a sudden fast powerful swing, he stopped talking. She swung once more, for good measure, telling herself it was to ensure that he was dead but if she was honest with herself, she just really loved feeling his skull cave in under the hammer's force.

She hadn't even known what his Talent was.

The only sound was the shrill, relentless whine of cicadas as she dragged his body out of the shed and into the woods. All the tools she needed to bury his body were right there, and no one else ever ventured over to this area since it was so out of the way ― it was just too convenient. Another monster put in the ground, as far as she was concerned, and she remembered checking her phone to look up Kawamura's information while she dropped the shovel and leaned against a tree to catch her breath after laboring so tirelessly over his grave.

Kawamura Naoki
Potential Kill Count: 500,000+

She'd returned to the shed to hose off the shovel as well as the bloodied hammer and put them back in their place, and crudely cleaned up the blood ― though she wondered if anyone would even notice it speckling across the wooden panels before it dried and just became part of the 'dirty garden shed' aesthetic. As she made sure everything looked in order, she came across a journal tucked away on one of the shelves and decided to take a peek out of curiosity. It was Kawamura's notebook, she discovered, and mostly contained notes about various plants. Hastily written reminders about transplants and propagations and stem cuttings ― nothing that particularly interested her, until she came to a page where he'd jotted down a few notes about his Talent, or more specifically how to use it for the different types of plants in the garden.

This boy's Talent ― his supernatural ability, what made him an enemy of humanity with a potential kill count of over 500,00 people, what made the government go so far as to mold her into a cold-hearted assassin in order to exterminate these monsters ― was photosynthesis. According to his notes, he used his monstrous power to turn sunlight into energy, which he would then redirect to his plants, allowing them to grow to their fullest potential even in the shade. He used his dangerous, humanity-threatening ability to cultivate plants here that otherwise would not be able to thrive under the current environmental conditions. That was his sin. That was why his own government signed off on his execution.

She didn't think much about it beyond that, and closed the notebook, putting it back in its place. It wasn't her job to judge if anyone was "good" or "bad", her mission was simply to exterminate them. She felt nothing, except perhaps for annoyance that such a convenient and easy kill was wasted on such a low-priority target, and returned to her dorm to clean up. It would be weeks before his classmates even started to ask around about him.

That was two months ago, but ever since that day, she's found herself back here at the garden. She gathered a few books to learn the basics, and brought more to keep at the shed for easy reference. It was never a conscious decision to go there, it just… kind of happened. It was like reading that boy's notes, and hearing how excitedly he talked about his plants (for the 5 minutes she heard him speak) somehow planted a seed of its own, deep within her brain. At first it was annoying, as she had plenty of other things to do, including planning out her next kill ― but if she skipped an afternoon, she would feel an uncomfortable, restless itch until she gave in. Over time, however, it became one of the most peaceful parts of her day. It was nice to have a routine, and it gave her plenty of time to get lost in her own thoughts ― she could mull over her next move, or reflect on what had happened in class that day, or simply tune out the world and pretend that for just a moment, only this little place existed.

It was nice. It was calm and relaxing, and for a little while it made the world feel just a little less bleak and empty. Less lonely. She found herself wondering if this was how Kawamura felt, too.

After successfully moving her potted plant to its new home among the rest of the flowers in the garden, she felt a heavy dread creep over her, a feeling she wasn't sure how to process, but her chest tightened and her legs refused to move. She remained there, on her knees in the soft dirt looking at the beautiful blooming flowers in front of her ― some planted by her, others by the boy before her ― and she couldn't help but ask herself why. Why was he so dangerous? Why did he have to die? Why did she have to be the one to do it? Why did she keep coming out here to waste her time on these stupid, stupid flowers?

"I didn't take you for the gardening type, Nana."

The sudden voice made her nearly jump out of her skin, jolting her out of her thoughts as she quickly stood up and spun around to face the familiar white-haired male. "AHHHH~ Kyouya! Don't sneak up on me like th―"

"Is everything okay?" He asked abruptly, cutting her off as his eyes widened upon seeing her face.

"Oh, uh― yeah, why? Did I get dirt on my face?"

He simply reached up to point at his own cheek, his voice deadpan as ever. "You're crying."

"?!" Her own eyes widened, and mimicking his movements she reached up to her own cheek to find it was wet with tears. When did she. . .? She quickly shook her head, eagerly wiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her school uniform as she laughed. "Oh! Haha, I must have gotten something in my eye, I didn't even notice! The hazards of botany, am I right?" Once her face felt adequately dry, she gave him a wide, friendly grin ― only to be met with his usual stoic expression.

"Ah, I'm glad it was nothing serious."

"So uh, what brings you out here? I didn't take you for the gardening type, either!"

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she squirmed a bit under his observation as she pulled out a handkerchief to clean the dirt off her hands ― a convenient excuse to fidget without appearing nervous. He waited a moment, possibly letting the tension weigh down on her before finally answering. "Another student has gone missing. Kawamura Naoki. He was in a different class, and apparently his classmates hadn't noticed his absence until recently. I guess he didn't have many friends, and mostly kept to himself."

"Oh no," she muttered, wide eyes glistening with feigned concern. "No one knows where he might have gone?"

Kyouya's stoney gaze turned to the garden shed. "The only thing anyone knew about him was that he really liked plants. They didn't even know we had a student garden here. Neither did I, honestly, until I asked one of the faculty." His expression darkened when he turned back to her. "So imagine my surprise to find you here, of all places, Nana. Funny how you always seem to be at the center of everything."

Her eyes widened further and it was all she could do to keep from grinding her teeth. "W-Wait, how long has he been missing?!"

"His classmates aren't even sure when they last saw him. But most estimated a couple weeks, maybe a month."

"Oh! Well I mean― look at all this!" Nana gestured enthusiastically to the flowers behind her. "I've been coming here for WAY more than a month, see? Inside the shed, I've got a whole table of cuttings and propagating plants too, and those can take several weeks to cultivate." She turned back to him with an uneasy smile, a sweatdrop forming at her temple. "So… there's no way I could have done all this in such a short amount of time! It really is just an unfortunate coincidence."

Kyouya narrowed his eyes at her once more, and she could tell he was thinking. "It's not impossible, I guess." He didn't look convinced, but nevertheless sighed and crossed his arms. "In either case, I'd like to ask you some questions. If you also have an interest in plants, perhaps your insight could be useful."

She nodded, though on the inside she was letting out a loud sigh of relief. That was a close one. "Sure! The cafeteria is still open, we can grab some food there and talk about the case!"

"Sounds good."

She lucked out with the fact that the boy's own classmates couldn't give an accurate time frame for when he went missing. It turned out that her new hobby had provided her with somewhat of an alibi. It might have been obvious what happened if the student garden had wilted and died after the plant enthusiast went missing, but she'd kept it alive and well. He might as well have never been there at all. Was that why she'd been going out there every afternoon, to cultivate an alibi for herself? She'd never had any interest in gardening before. Two months ago, she knew almost nothing about caring for plants.

She wasn't quite sure why.