literary girl

Someone was dead. The harsh reality was that there was a killer among them, and if they wanted to survive, they’d have to find the culprit. No matter how painful, they had to push on. How absurdly routine this kind of thing had become. Touko didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or scream or throw herself in the river. 

Maybe she’ll talk to someone. To distract from her impending nervous breakdown.

“Did you know her?” Touko had glimpsed his expression when they’d discovered the body. It was the horror and grief of someone who recognized the victim. No one she knew was here, it was for the better that they weren’t, but that didn’t make the circumstances any easier to bear. 

“Well don’t just stand around. Go investigate or something.” Says the one wringing her hands in a corner, not being useful to the investigation at all. That was Makoto’s shtick. Touko was the one who stood around biting her nails and trying not to pass out at the sight of blood. She’s gotten better at the not passing out part, considering her past year cleaning up the mess that was Touwa City, but her poor nails had yet to receive a break. 

“W-What is it?”

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