Sachiko Tsujiguchi

If past experience had taught you anything, it’s that Kurokuma unlocking a room like this was never a good sign. The air always feels different at times like these, as anticipation for a few terse moments clings to you like a harsh chill. The kind of chill that permeates your very being, cutting down to the bone - it is harsh, and it is unrelenting, and it is only ever worsened by mounting anticipation. The blood smears from the centre of the cell leading to whatever’s under the bloodstained black cloth, the faint saline smell hanging in the air, and the tension thick enough to cut with the very knife in the cell before you hardly did anything to make the situation look better.

There were many things that could have been under that bloody black cloth. A mannequin, a pile of glass shards that were mistaken for a playground, or perhaps a vampire who happened to be a particularly messy eater. Quite possibly, it was a set of blenders matching the one against the opposite wall of the cell. Many of those things would be preferable to what most of you already, intrinsically, knew was there. Despite how pointless it was to pretend, you almost wanted to believe that all your efforts had persuaded the would-be culprit to change their mind about committing a murder. Maybe if you held your breath, made a wish, and counted to three, it would come true. And yet, as the cloth was pulled back, the familiar announcement of a body being discovered rang out just as you feared it might.

Even when you knew what to expect, there was still an element of shock to these things. Perhaps it’s not who you expected it to be, perhaps it’s simply the last shreds of hope that nobody would act without a motive dissipating, or perhaps it’s even the state that the body before you lies in. For the most part, those in the past had looked almost normal, almost like they could have been roused from sleep. But such is never the case, and you already all knew that. We so often wish that the dead may rest in peace, but it’s evident from the sight before you that this one did not go peacefully into the night. If there was no savior of the waking world, there was certainly not one for the dreaming dead.

Of course, that would imply that the dead had anything left to dream about.

And that would be preposterous.

Sachiko Tsujiguchi’s damp, bloody body lies before you, the blood smear from the middle of the cell now clearly trailing towards her head. The condition she was in was nothing short of horrific, wounds littering her body almost haphazardly. Regardless of how you felt about her, it was hard to say that she truly deserved such an undignified death. But then again, perhaps it was fitting - Sachiko, who had once been so above it all, had fallen so far from grace and was now lying here, finally having hit rock bottom. A wretched fate for a wretched girl, to end up like this. And yet regardless of how you felt about her, it was hard to say that she deserved to leave the world like this.

Matsuo inspected a nearby blender, a bloodied cloak in his hands, as Fran seemed surprisingly up close and personal with the body. Nao focused his eyes on the ground, and Yuki? Yuki was just crying.

Even with all she’d been through, on some level, it was hard to imagine that she of all people would ever end up like this. It was almost pitiful that even now with the knife clutched in her hand, it was almost like she could still be dangerous. Like you might still get stabbed if you ventured too close. But there was no such threat, not anymore. She would never hurt anyone again, nor would she ever be hurt again. Perhaps once upon a time, in her time, her death would have signified some sort of great loss.

So, it was time for the motive again. Great. Lovely, even. Delightful. Sachiko had gone into it fully expecting to not give a shit. What could they possibly do now? Recycling motives would be unpalatable. With the secrets thing out of the way and who she really was already all but public knowledge, it was hard to think that anything would get to her. Gore? Viscera? Of course not. If one were to go back a couple chapters and a private thread, they would know that she had noted seeing worse than any of the murders up to that point. That much remained true. Frankly, she seemed about as unimpressed as usual. What were they going to do? Show them graphic murders? That would surely be an ineffective motive. They–

…

They…

… needed a volunteer?

Interesting. Lots of blood. Hm. Painful. Decidedly, most certainly painful. Didn’t doubt that it hurt. He’d been through it before? He’d been through it before. Poor dear, sweet, precious Seiichi. She didn’t really have much attachment to most of her classmates but she still didn’t want to see them hurt. Maybe? She didn’t know. Nothing… she couldn’t wrap her head around much of anything that was going on. It had been so long. She wanted to tell herself it had been so long she had forgotten about it and they couldn’t do anything to her. She wanted to do something. Anything. Anything but standing there, frozen, glassy-eyed and unresponsive. Stop it. Pull it together. He can’t hurt you. Yes he can. He just hurt Seiichi. Look at him. Look at that.

Do you want to end up like him?

Funny. Breathing doesn’t usually feel very hard. For once, she’s quiet, unassuming, and completely gone. Tense like her fight-or-flight response kicked in, she’s obviously chosen flight, but it can’t quite get her to panic enough to send her running. Would it hurt as badly now? So much of that was so long ago. Smaller and weaker. She wouldn’t be worth it. Haha. She wouldn’t be worth anything. She already wasn’t. Yes she was. No. Maybe. She didn’t have the mental energy to hold that struggle with her imagination. She couldn’t. She could just slowly try to shuffle away. Without being noticed. Yes. That was it. With everyone so focused on Seiichi it wouldn’t be hard. It would be easy to stay under the radar and come out unscathed. She’d gotten so good at that. If no one noticed then she would be able to go away until she was able to pretend nothing was wrong and if no one noticed anything was wrong it was like nothing was wrong. 

So of course you look to your classmates. Some flocked to Seiichi, which was reassuring. It’s nice to see acts of kindness and concern. And then she glanced over the others as one person in particular was on her mind. Sachiko of course. Sachiko never expressed much, and it made Shinri think what would make her crack. It’s not the nicest thought but when it came to Sachiko’s insecurities, Shinri knew there must be a lot more to her than what she let on.

To follow on from the actual post: Boy was Sachiko wrong.

Shinri caught a glance of Sachiko backing away, and the concern started brewing. No time to worry about your own problems when shit hits the fan! She made a beeline for Sachiko and once she was close enough to read the expression, she hesitated. Pause. Think about this carefully. Don’t look too concerned. She doesn’t need to worry about you remember…

Whether or not she heard that was largely irrelevant. She gave no indication of having done so, seeming rather preoccupied with... whatever was holding her focus. It had been so long since the game started, since the threat of murder loomed over all of them. Sachiko hadn’t had any reason to worry. She wasn’t an ideal physical target as far as VR went. She wasn’t the sort of person who would let herself get put in a position like that so easily. She was useless and deserved to suffer through the motive for being so ungrateful.

She flinched when Shinri touched her hand but did not recoil, nor did she react in a favorable physical manner. Rather, she looked at Shinri as if she was not quite seeing her - like she hadn’t quite finished waking up after a particularly restless nap. Leaving... hm, leaving, leaving. Leaving sounded good. Removing herself from the situation would be nice. But, running away was showing weakness. It would do nothing but prove she was weak and afraid and showing weakness or fear meant that instead of maybe getting hurt she would definitely get hurt.

Given her terribly foggy state of mind, though, it was difficult to parse any of that other than leaving = good. She COULD leave. It wasn’t always a luxury that could be afforded.  Later, almost certainly, she would loathe herself for it. Sort of vaguely affirming with something that might be considered nodding if you considered a bobblehead figure in a light breeze to be nodding and... weakly reciprocating the hand holding, more like she was letting herself be held than anything. Like she was hesitating, unable to say anything she wanted to, uncharacteristically vulnerable and thanking the heavens that if anyone else was noticing the exchange, they weren’t saying anything about it.

“...yeah.”

She’s not blind either.

“Gh- you-!” Glowering, clenching her legs together and making a motion like she was trying to pull her skirt down to properly cover her legs (to no avail) she simply fell silent. The smart thing to do would probably have been play it off nonchalant and had Michi only mentioned that, she may very well have been able to. But nope, it seemed more like she was pointedly trying to get into her head and then start digging around, playing off of things she’d noticed. Damn it. Having someone who could read her like a book was fine. Sachiko was perfectly straightforward most of the time, and if people wanted to find that predictable, then fine. It was having someone who could take that book and interpret it, read between the lines, that was the last thing she wanted in life. Killing game or no killing game.

She’d have to be open, or Michi would somehow make her. Even if, somehow, she truly didn’t mean anything malicious or harmful through making those inquiries and suggesting the things she did, the girl was in her head and they both likely damn well knew it. Huffing, sighing, and finally settling in the water at a reasonable level, she swallowed just a bit of her pride and resolved to take it one step at a time. Disclose only as much as she absolutely had to. One step at a time. While making a point to largely (at least try to) ignore the Perfection Question for the time being, if she could help it. “... One thing at a time. I’m not going to bother lying to you about it, because it’s pretty clear to me you’ll know. I hate that I can respect that about you. I’ll tell you about my family if you really want to know that badly, but I’m going to hold you to your promise before going anywhere near that second one. On top of that, you’re not going to breathe a word about this to another living soul. Got it?”

(CW under the readmore for some abuse ment n such)

While the self-correction was quick and not lingered on, which was admittedly nice, it was still a little annoying. So she’d taken the liberty of having some fun with the customization! That was all there was to it. Clearly. There didn’t need to be any reason for it or any logic to it. There were people who had taken it a little further than wanting to know what it was like to be tall, or have an appearance that matched her personality more closely, or… yeah. Moving on!

Talk of blood being thicker than water and family was… sure a topic, though. It wasn’t something she could really foresee herself wanting to talk about, but it was entirely possible that she could get away with saying as little as possible oh who was she kidding this was Michi and there was absolutely no way she would be able to do that. Making it clear that she was still paying attention, she shifted a bit to start submerging herself a little more again. While she moved carefully and deliberately, she also moved quickly, as if there was something she didn’t want someone to see.

Perhaps to someone who might not be familiar with that sort of thing, it would have worked. But, in all likelihood, Michi was probably astute enough to pick up on it. On her thighs, well above where her skirt would normally fall but not too far up, just on the inside where they would usually be well hidden, were some faint marks, little lines that it probably wouldn’t take a class trial to determine the origins of. But ah, there was barely any time worth noting which could have been spent on that little observation, surely. She manages to get herself about halfway in the water before stopping again, taking some time to adjust to the temperature and notice the cuts on Michi’s arm and realize, oh, fuck, what if she saw.

Michi wonders why its called the hot tub of “despair”. What’s so despairing about relaxa– HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HO

–ahh, that was… seething.

– 10 Minutes Later –

Michi wades neck deep in the hot tub clearly accessible in the real world. She’s found a slightly exposing bikini that she was supposed to wear for a future photo shoot in her wardrobe, and decided to make some use out of it. It might be motive time, a time where Kurokuma manufactures and unleashes a reason for her classmates to kill each other, but Michi is assuring herself nobody would commit something so horrible….only a few hours in. She, can, however, picture a later demise. But not now. Now, she still has time to work. To meet with the people she wishes to meet with, and produce results–successful results. She wants her friends to make it through all of this. To excel, rise from their experienced hardships, no matter what’s thrown at them. She thinks all of this while blowing bubbles, waiting for her guest to arrive.

Agreeing to meet with Michi alone in the Hot Tub of Despair really didn’t sound like her idea of a good time. There was something at stake for it though, something that she wanted. She wasn’t thrilled at the notion, but for all purposes it was an easily accessible public area. She didn’t know what to expect from Michi, and of course, that intrigued her. It felt like the swimsuit she’d dug out of her closet was meant as a mockery, although frankly just about anything that either covered or emphasized her now much smaller chest would have felt that way. It was a lose-lose situation, but it probably wasn’t going to be an actual issue or anything. Not like anyone else was going to care.

She just had to reassure herself that it would pay off in due time, that a debt promised was more than enough. It was not one she intended to cash right away, not in the slightest. It was one she would keep close to her, waiting for just the right moment, just the right thing to say. But promises were useless without a display of good faith, an assurance in turn. It’s only a few hours after the motive and her internal clock hasn’t gone awry yet, and... as much as she might not have been the most comfortable around Michi, Sachiko somehow suspected that if anyone was going to be stupid enough to attack her out in the open like that, it wasn’t going to be her.

Kind of crossing her arms over her chest nonchalantly-- yep, there was Michi, blowing bubbles. Somehow, that wasn’t altogether too shocking. Just an average, everyday idol, lurking in the water like some kind of swamp creature. Except in water instead of mud, and clearly visible, and probably not angling to kill her. Probably. She promptly acknowledged Michi with a nod and made her way over to the edge of the water.

Rather than submerge herself immediately, because that kind of temperature shock would probably shatter Sachiko’s cold heart and personality if she didn’t introduce herself to it gradually, she sort of just lingered on the edge as across from Michi as she could manage in order to be able to look at her more easily and dipped her legs in ow ok yeah good call not just cannonballing it hot water is hot. She reluctantly uncrossed her arms and used them to support herself on the edge of the floor, which would make it easier to both not fall and gradually get herself in there more. But all that’s kind of a waste of time when there are more pressing matters at hand. Two girls, chilling in a hot tub, five feet apart ‘cause they are gay (just not with each other.)

She relaxed her posture a little bit, seeming fairly indifferent to the idea of further discussion later. “Eh. We can talk about it later if you want to, I guess.” She offers a little nod when Barako’s all, ‘I fully intend to live’, even though it kind of goes without saying that everyone probably intends to live.

When Barako advised her to be careful, though, she just cracked a smile. Confidence in your ability to not die is key!

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I am very much alive, and I intend to stay that way. We’re both too important to die here, after all.”

Hey! A good-natured callback to that first thread where declaration of importance was a point of contention! Truly, life is full of little miracles.

“Yeah, I don’t really care for how everyone seems to be super sensitive about this. It’s fucked up and we just have to deal with that. Save for the literal child among us, I’d expect that people would be a little more receptive to objective bluntness given the severity of the circumstances.”

Again, she just shrugged a little. Maybe some of them just needed time to come to terms with reality. Four people dying just wasn’t enough sometimes, apparently.

It was readily apparent to her that this was going to sour quickly, and she could only hope that their conversation about appearances wouldn’t be brought back up. Boy, this… definitely had been a pretty massive mistake on her part. But as with all things in life, she would simply have to own it! ‘Own it’, in this context, meaning growing clearly more annoyed by the second. That comment about the jacket, though, that one stung. Same shit as always. Not a single thing she’d said or done up to that point had mattered after all. She glanced down briefly, unconsciously, down to herself - same skirt, same shoes, same socks, same self. Nothing wrong. Nothing wrong. Why was this bothering her so much, then?

“Yeah, well, I like my clothes too! It’s how my dad, and his dad, and his dad dressed too, so I guess being formal just runs in the family. It’s a whole appearance thing you probably wouldn’t get unless you knew any of them like I did.”

Her dad. Mister Bucket. That one stung too, but the fact that Barako was laughing at her couldn’t have been anything good. It meant she hadn’t said that for the reason she immediately thought - Barako had no way of knowing anything about her family - but still, was laughing at her nonetheless. There wasn’t anything wrong. She hadn’t told any jokes. It probably would have relieved her annoyance a lot more to clench her fists without her gloves, but oh well. She would not show weakness. Even if she felt how much it hurt, if she just ignored that, pretended she was still in the simulation–

“Is something funny, Sekisei-san? Did I tell a joke and just forget about it or something? Really, I’m curious as to what you’re laughing at, Sekisei-san.”

Her cold tone seemingly faltered just a little bit for a moment there, but she collected herself just enough to drop back into that familiar iciness right at the end. Despite how clearly not composed she was, it was equally clear that she was trying to act like she was. Sachiko had been ready for it to be awkward, or for people to be surprised, and she thought she had been ready for people to laugh at her. She had, apparently, thought wrong. This was exactly why she’d crafted that appearance for herself - to avoid this exact kind of shit.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Barako said apologetically as she composed herself.

“It’s just… odd to see you in reality and remind myself you’re the same Tsujiguchi-san I met online,” she smiled at her wistfully, “I don’t know. I suppose my mind tricked me into thinking you’d be an entirely different person in reality but here you are and you haven’t changed a bit.”

Barako closed her eyes and smiled.

“Ah? Your family wore those clothes? Pardon. I was making an allusion to a rather famous children’s story about a Chocolatier. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? OneCar is the name,” she continued to smile until eventually she opened her eyes, “I apologize if you don’t like to be associated with such… whimsical characters. But then I think you could do with a bit more whimsy in your life.”

Barako proceeded to brush her hair back and give her a more serious expression.

“Yeah, I know I was really pushing the idea that I wasn’t Sachiko and was just assigned to take her place after we assassinated her. You know, in order to seamlessly acquire her business as part of our plan for chocolate-based world domination. Super competitive industry which is very viable for taking over the world.  Alas, the facade has broken! It was really me the whole time. How terrible.”

She had never once said that to anyone, and in fact had just made it up on the fly. She really didn’t like to improv and wasn’t usually so much one for sarcasm as she was for being outright scathing, but desperate times (such as not getting upset over perceived insults) called for desperate measures. Despite the fact that I have very suddenly realized that timeline-wise it’s entirely viable for her great-grandparents to have been influenced by this ‘OneCar’, Sachiko either doesn’t realize it or chooses to ignore it in favour of shooting Barako a dark look for suggesting she could use more whimsy in her life.

“...”

It was probably better for the both of them to focus on the more pressing matter of ‘where, pray tell, the fuck are we.’ Shifting her weight slightly to rest on the other foot and crossing her arms, she looked anywhere but directly meeting Barako’s eyes as she pondered on the matter herself for a moment. “Doesn’t really matter if we know where ‘here’ is for now. It’s a bit more of an issue if the people who are allegedly rescuing us don’t know where ‘here’ is, assuming they even exist in the first place.” 

She didn’t seem particularly convinced that anyone was going to show up, but equally didn’t seem to be too bothered by the notion. Hm. “If you want to find out that badly, I’d just suggest making sure you stay alive long enough to get answers. Just because we can talk face to face now doesn’t mean that whole ‘kill each other’ thing is necessarily over. We’re still stuck here, after all. I don’t think that the tangible evidence of permanent death  is going to dissuade people.”

There were a lot of things that Sachiko was, and scared was not one of them.

That being said, ‘mentally prepared to meet her classmates face to face’ was also not one of them. But they didn’t have to know that. They already knew who Sachiko was, the kind of person that she was. If they hadn’t changed their opinions of Keiko (rest in peace) after they discovered her real appearance, they probably wouldn’t change their opinions of her! Or, if they had, they would still be… intimidated by her or something? And wouldn’t say it? Ugh, the more she thought about it the less she wanted to leave, but the more she waited the less likely it was that she’d be able to keep the same composure that she had in VR when she finally did. One, two, and before she could get to three she straightened her back and walked through that door with her head held high and the same resting expression of vague displeasure that she always wore.

Sort of.

Aaand oh man someone else was already out and about, huh. It almost felt weird to not be looking down on just about everyone again, and if she had been less determined she might have just quietly crept back into her room right then and there, praying that she had gone unnoticed. But this was like, a second first impression, almost! She could not fuck this up. Especially not now when she really, really did not have the same sort of physical presence anymore. It’d have to be all personality now. You can do this, Sachiko. Even if it’s Barako, who is super pretty in real life. It’d almost be nice getting to talk to her as not-a-robot, were it not for the whole ‘oh shit I’m shorter than her now’ thing. Just start with a good ol’ neutral testing of the waters. Mmmhm. Safe bet.

“I guess I’m not the only one who couldn’t wait to get out of there, hm?”

The crossed arms weren’t really as disdainful-looking out in the real world. Dammit. Oh well. She’d been trying to seem at least a little more approachable. Maybe this mild disaster being able to talk to people face to face like… that, would help?

“I was just checking to see if there was a-” she pauses and stares down at the girl for a second.

“Tsujiguchi-san?” she smiles down at her with a somewhat pleased expression. It was bizarre. Seeing Sachiko like this… not a whole lot was different and yet everything felt oddly much more precious about her with her size adjusted. Her attitude, once cold and detached, seemed practically adorable now. Like a tiny dog trying to be intimidating.

“I see your sense of fashion does not change. Although I do like the dress suit over the lolita-dress. I think it gives you a bit of a mature edge,” she barely holds back a bit of a laugh.

It was readily apparent to her that this was going to sour quickly, and she could only hope that their conversation about appearances wouldn’t be brought back up. Boy, this... definitely had been a pretty massive mistake on her part. But as with all things in life, she would simply have to own it! ‘Own it’, in this context, meaning growing clearly more annoyed by the second. That comment about the jacket, though, that one stung. Same shit as always. Not a single thing she’d said or done up to that point had mattered after all. She glanced down briefly, unconsciously, down to herself - same skirt, same shoes, same socks, same self. Nothing wrong. Nothing wrong. Why was this bothering her so much, then?

“Yeah, well, I like my clothes too! It’s how my dad, and his dad, and his dad dressed too, so I guess being formal just runs in the family. It’s a whole appearance thing you probably wouldn’t get unless you knew any of them like I did.”

Her dad. Mister Bucket. That one stung too, but the fact that Barako was laughing at her couldn’t have been anything good. It meant she hadn’t said that for the reason she immediately thought - Barako had no way of knowing anything about her family - but still, was laughing at her nonetheless. There wasn’t anything wrong. She hadn’t told any jokes. It probably would have relieved her annoyance a lot more to clench her fists without her gloves, but oh well. She would not show weakness. Even if she felt how much it hurt, if she just ignored that, pretended she was still in the simulation--

“Is something funny, Sekisei-san? Did I tell a joke and just forget about it or something? Really, I’m curious as to what you’re laughing at, Sekisei-san.”

When the door opened up, Barako exited from her pod and wandered into the hallway almost instantly. It took her a mere second to get her bearings straight but she had to confirm a few things first. She tried Keiko’s room’s door… it was locked. She sulked a bit. Maybe they really were dead? As she looked around it still seemed clear there was no exit point. Still… it was good to be able to stretch her actual limbs.

There were a lot of things that Sachiko was, and scared was not one of them.

That being said, ‘mentally prepared to meet her classmates face to face’ was also not one of them. But they didn’t have to know that. They already knew who Sachiko was, the kind of person that she was. If they hadn’t changed their opinions of Keiko (rest in peace) after they discovered her real appearance, they probably wouldn’t change their opinions of her! Or, if they had, they would still be… intimidated by her or something? And wouldn’t say it? Ugh, the more she thought about it the less she wanted to leave, but the more she waited the less likely it was that she’d be able to keep the same composure that she had in VR when she finally did. One, two, and before she could get to three she straightened her back and walked through that door with her head held high and the same resting expression of vague displeasure that she always wore.

Sort of.

Aaand oh man someone else was already out and about, huh. It almost felt weird to not be looking down on just about everyone again, and if she had been less determined she might have just quietly crept back into her room right then and there, praying that she had gone unnoticed. But this was like, a second first impression, almost! She could not fuck this up. Especially not now when she really, really did not have the same sort of physical presence anymore. It’d have to be all personality now. You can do this, Sachiko. Even if it’s Barako, who is super pretty in real life. It’d almost be nice getting to talk to her as not-a-robot, were it not for the whole ‘oh shit I’m shorter than her now’ thing. Just start with a good ol’ neutral testing of the waters. Mmmhm. Safe bet.

“I guess I’m not the only one who couldn’t wait to get out of there, hm?”

After a momentary wait, someone, indeed, arrived at his floor. Sachiko. Much like how Nao piqued Sachiko’s interest, Sachiko was an item of interest to Nao. The chocolatier didn’t seem to be highly emotional like some of the other members of their class, and with that absence of emotion came a sharp mind. That was something that Nao could respect. 

Nao chuckled softly at Sachiko’s comment. “Interested is one way to describe it, yes. Honestly, I’m not a big consumer of this kind of stuff, but it was here, so I thought I might as well give it a try. Being open to new experiences isn’t harmful in itself.”

Being open to new experiences sounded super fake, though. She’d been open to a considerably small number of new experiences, the most recent of which led to the current situation they all found themselves in. A few of the others had been satisfying, one in particular being quite rewarding, but the rest were also not too swell. None of them could hold a candle to this, though. A killing game-kidnapping combo was pretty difficult to top in terms of severity, but at least she seemed to be avoiding the worst of it. Getting murdered. Getting executed. Getting emotional. Any of those three things would best be avoided, if she had any say in the matter. It was for reasons like that that she never quite let her guard down. It could easily be the ones you least expected who would turn out to be killers. Apparently, some had even killed before the game. What an... unnerving thought, or at least it would be if any of that affected her trust level with any of these people. Ah, but liking someone and trusting someone don’t necessarily have to go hand in hand.

Anyways, two paragraphs of introspection later, the actual important questions are getting asked and answered. What brought her here? Other than the obvious answer which was ‘so we could get this show on the road’, she had mostly come looking to kill some time. And not to kill some one. Sachiko might be rude, but even she’s not rude enough to inconvenience someone by murdering them like that. Getting killed can be a real pain in the ass, apparently, which is why she hadn’t bothered bringing a knife to the library. Or anywhere. Considering recent events, it wasn’t fair to say that knives were for cooking and not for murder, but she didn’t feel threatened enough to worry about something like that. Not even in the face of the SHSL Nagito Komaeda. Learning how to draw manga wasn’t that high on her bucket list. Or anywhere on it, really, but an opportunity was an opportunity. You know how it is with killing games. You don’t talk to someone, you think, ‘I’ll just do it later’ and next thing you know? DEAD. Super dead.

But man, learning how to draw manga... If just about anyone else had asked, it would have probably been an immediate no.

“I came looking for something interesting to do.” She shrugged slightly, nonchalantly, returning a small smile of her own. “If you’re offering that as an invitation to join you, then I suppose it would only be polite to accept.” You know that tone when someone’s partially joking but also trying to convey they’re totally down to do something? This is done in that tone which I’m not skilled enough to describe in some other way. Don’t look at me. I’m playing a chocolatier, not a poet, I don’t have to be eloquent. Of course, it could be the setup to one or both of them getting murdered. Since this is happening pre-sleepover event, which they both attended, it’s not. But they don’t know that yet! But as it stands, Sachiko has no intention of doing a hit, and she chooses to believe that if Nao were intending to harm anyone, he’d have hidden in wait somewhere else. Some might argue that he’d already harmed quite a few people, but those people were just emotional weenies with ‘feelings.’

How long has it been since the trial? Three days? By this point, things have settled down somewhat, at least on the surface. The dreadful reality of everyone’s situation still loomed over them, and the memories of the trial certainly haven’t left them. Those events would probably never be forgotten. At the very least, the ripples of Nao’s actions would always be felt, for as long as everyone was trapped in this virtual reality. That was just a fact of life. Nao would just have to deal with that, as difficult as it was being the outsider of the group. It wasn’t like there wasn’t a reason he’d been estranged.

Thanks to the library’s seemingly endless collection of literature, the room had become a bit of a hotspot for Nao to frequent. Reading was a good pastime he could indulge in whenever he had free time. And, due to his lack of positive relationships, he had plenty of time available to him. So, most of the time, he carried a book with him wherever he went, reading as much of it as he could before he lost interest, returned the book to the library, and withdrew a new book. Sadly, none of the novels he’d  tried reading thus far have secured his interest all the way through. Maybe he should try reading a work of nonfiction instead. If he was going to be kept within a place like this, he could at least learn a few things.

That was why Nao had taken the time to warp to the library today. After getting there, he climbed the steps up to the third floor. From there, the array of nonfictional works was displayed. Nao wandered around the floor, noting the categories of books available to him. Chemistry, history… Huh. Even some guides on how to draw manga. Interesting.

Even if she couldn’t mask the sound of her steps, it would be a lot easier to pretend she was distracted if anyone she didn’t want to talk to happened to be there as well. There were a handful of people she’d been looking to talk to, some of who she’d already had the chance to talk to and some she hadn’t. Despite her general insistence on not reflecting on the trial too much, there were some things that had been said which intrigued her to say the very least. Having had the opportunity to somehow, miraculously smooth things over with Barako took care of some of that already. Seiichi turning out to have a mean bone somewhere in his body was a bit of a pleasant surprise too, but nothing particularly worth following up on. Nao, though, had piqued her interest even further. Frankly, if she’d been in that position, she felt as if she’d have done the same. Hell, it pretty much guaranteed a conviction in the same way that a reliable key witness could. Normally, they didn’t know beforehand and let it happen, true, but this virtual reality was anything but normal. It wasn’t as if she knew much about how murder cases worked in the real world anyways.

That said, speak of the devil and he shall appear. Or vaguely think of the devil and he’ll sort of just be in the same place that you were already going reading a… guide on how to illustrate manga? Not really what she would have expected, but that in itself implied that it was wise to expect anything around here. The precedent of murder set in place made quite sure of that. Anyone could be out to get anyone, and wariness would be wise. Frankly, she felt that any ire she might have drawn through expressing her own views on the matter was undermined by the knowledge that someone had known and not acted to prevent a murder, as opposed to simply expressing that it was bound to happen. Gold star for not being as terrible as you could have been, Sachiko. Her presence couldn’t have been much of a surprise, but it wasn’t as if there was any sort of attempt to conceal it in the first place. Heels on marble isn’t the quietest sound ever invented, that’s for sure. Rather than offer a normal greeting like a reasonable person, she opted instead to comment on his choice in doki doki literature. Nice, non-confrontational, and not quite generic.

“I didn’t expect you to be interested in that kind of thing, Morita-san.”

It wasn’t terribly surprising to hear someone finally vocalise something so negative, about someone dying for sure, but it wasn’t something Sachiko herself had given much thought to. Sure, she was rather miffed that she’d been yanked away from her business, and the idea of such a long-time operation going under because some sick jerkass kidnapped her wasn’t exactly her idea of fun. But there were people ‘out there’ - not ones she’d ever trust to take it over full-time, but ones who she knew could keep it comfortably running until she was back.

It certainly wasn’t something as critical as having to get out for the WORLD’S sake. If she was being perfectly honest, she thought that Barako might have been exaggerating just a little bit. Of course it was important that they all get out - she couldn’t disagree there. There was no arguing that their class winding up in the predicament they were in was pretty dire. The stress must have just been getting to other people more than it was to her.

Sighing, trying to let go of some of the tension she was clearly still holding, she tried to at least smooth things over a little bit with a civil introduction. “Sachiko Tsujiguchi, Super Highschool Level Chocolatier.” she responded, evidently trying to let go of the previous hostility. That being said, though, she had no clue what to say to Barako after that.

“I don’t know, Sekisei-san. But I also don’t think stressing yourself out over it like this is gonna be any help either.” She shrugged, in an attempt to indicate that she didn’t really mean anything nasty by it. “Regardless of what you can do right now, we stand a better chance of getting out of here if we can at least tolerate each other long enough to cooperate. You certainly seem capable and determined, and I’m personally willing to agree to work with you however I can for the sake of escape. Would that be alright with you?”