"Attention all academy attendees! A body has been discovered!" Once more, it was early morning when the students were so rudely awoken by Monochio's commanding yowl, voice emanating from every intercom and PheFo in the academy. Once more, a tide of students still in their pajamas raced through the halls to the body. All but one—soon to be two—wasn't surprised and horrified by what they found.
"Oh, God, what the fuck?!" They heard Shinobu rear back, muttering in disgust.
Maho and Hiiro were the first in the kitchen, rising early to prepare for breakfast. Hiiro had just entered the dining hall, turning on the sights, when she was met with the gruesome sight of… Kurumi's bloody corpse, strung up by its wrists. Six knives were embedded in the wall around her body, and four were embedded in her body, three on the right side of her chest and torso, and one directly in her heart. The students could only pray that the knife in Kurumi's heart was the first one thrown.
Miyu's legs gave out again as her mind went blank, and she was only half-aware of Haruna shouting her name. Wh-who…? WHY…?!
"Oh, Jesus…!" Tsubaki muttered, stepping between Miyu, Haruna, and the corpse. They would never be able to unsee it, but they didn't have to keep looking at it. Aoi, Hiiro, and M4 were quick to follow suit, each instinctively shielding the eyes of the nearest underclassmen.
"How fitting," Monochio remarked coldly as it entered the dining hall and saw the third-years. "A sentimental, but ultimately useless, gesture. Do not shy away from the truth, rather, come forth and fight for it! That is the only way justice shall prevail!"
"Why, you little piece of…!" Shinobu lunged, but Rika easily caught and picked her up, her legs swinging as she tried and failed to break free.
"Save it for the trial, kiddo," the Ultimate Volleyballer muttered darkly as Shinobu continued to struggle against her.
"Kiddo?! Let me go!" Shinobu reared back again, redirecting all her aggression on the annoying orange, but Rika didn't budge.
"No, Rika is right, we must proceed with the investigation," Hiiro interrupted before the fight could escalate. For a moment, Shinobu shot her a disgusted death-glare, but when Hiiro only met her gaze calmly, she finally yielded and went limp in Rika's arms until Rika set her down again.
"Fine. But whoever did this… seriously fucked up!" she muttered. "I mean, what the hell could ever have made this necessary?!"
She gestured to the hanging, bloody body with fire in her eyes. She already didn't believe any murder in the Killing Game was justified, no matter what anyone said, but this?! She could only imagine the excuses the culprit would give… The thought alone made her blood boil, so to soothe herself, she imagined herself and the culprit in an IRL fighting game, and she got to beat the shit out of them.
All around her, the others began the investigation. Even though the upperclassmen seemed reluctant to allow their hands to fall from the eyes of the underclassmen, they could protect them no longer. It wasn't as if they hadn't already seen one investigation, trial, and execution anyway.
As much as I hate to say it, they will get used to it; they must! Hiiro sighed regretfully as Yuka raised her PheFo to Kurumi's pink-stained corpse. Her actions were unintentionally callous, so quick to jump to photography, but her Talent and the Killing Game contextualized it. It wasn't something Yuka felt happy doing, per se, but the only other option was to walk into a class trial with no—or poor—photo evidence.
Hiiro sighed. I hope she does not burden herself with too much expectation. She may be the Ultimate Photographer, but the responsibility of recording accurate evidence is all of ours, even for photos. She flashed back to Nagisa's body discovery. From what the Muscle Trio said, Yuka was the one to remind the other two to take photos first, then take down the body next, wrong as it felt to all of them. Oh, Nagisa…
Guilt and shame roiled in Hiiro's stomach. Would Nagisa be disappointed that she was unable to save two more student, soon to be three?
"It's strange, don't you think?" Noa murmured, gently brushing Kurumi's jaw with her knuckles. For once, there was no hungry, desperate obsession in her iridescent green gaze, just genuine sorrow and respect for the fallen prankster. She didn't want Kurumi to feel cold or alone.
Don't worry, Kurumi! I swear we'll avenge you! Someone as cute and precious as you should never—and will never!—die in vain! Tears blinded the Ultimate Theater Actress, but she blinked them away. We'll find the culprit! Then you'll be able to rest with Saki and Miiko and Nagisa, I promise!
"What's strange?" Ibuki asked. Beside her, Towa looked up as well. A playful, teasing insult danced on the tip of her tongue, but she knew damn well not to make such light jokes right in front of a dead body. It was evident from the fervent look on Ibuki's face that she was asking Noa because she was desperate for anything to distract her from the reality of seeing another dead, white-haired girl that she failed to keep watch over.
"I feel like… there's not as much blood as I would expect…"
"What the fuck, Noa?!"
"I mean it!" Noa held up her hands, and while some of the other students looked over their shoulders anxiously at the sound of all that shouting, Ibuki raised her hands as well and gestured for Noa and Towa to take deep breaths in and out.
"If you think it's important, we'll write it down," she said. Noa said nothing more, but she squinted warily at Towa when Towa's back was turned.
Other students came and went, some of them thoroughly double-checking all of the second floor while others raced up to the door to the sixth, wanting to see if it had been broken into again. It appeared unchanged, although a toy car was found just inside the shadows of the doorway.
"I wonder what our little victim was doing right before her death?" Esora mused grimly as she picked the car up to return as evidence.
ooo
The next time the beckoning Headcatster led the survivors to the trial room, they were stunned to find it completely remodeled. Where once it was a spacious, typical trial room with red and gold hues and tones—Hope's Pinnacle's usual black and white tile on the floor—it was now a literal classroom, old and rickety and wooden. Rather than a couch, Monochio lounged on a teacher's desk. There was a bright red apple by its paw, and several of the sharper students couldn't help but notice its similarity to the execution button from the first class trial…
There were chalkboards and educational posters on every wall, and the podiums were student desks and chairs. There were three new death portraits, one for Miiko, one for Saki, and one for Kurumi. Their photos were hung on little chalkboards hanging on stands over the desk podiums. Miiko's had two intersecting bones. Saki had an intersecting rocket and shooting star. Kurumi had an intersecting snake and jack-in-the-box.
"A-TEN-SHUN, class! Consider this your last chance to get out of detention! I know that one of you little degenerate delinquents—!"
"Isn't that kind of redundant?" Maho wondered out loud.
"—SILENCE! As I was saying…, I know one of you is guilty of committing a crime, breaking a law, ignoring a rule. Argue your case, and I will mete out the appropriate punishment!" Monochio swished its tail, scooping up a gavel hidden behind its desk. It banged the wood hammer on the desk and bid the second class trial to begin. The court was now in session!