W A K E UP!

Hyun-min supposes he should be happy that people have stopped questioning his idea. His explanation for it had sounded weak to his own ears, after all, so he was content to sweat quietly and watch everyone else do their thing. However… that other mastermind, Yuki, didn’t seem to be kind at all. Suddenly, a realization dawns on him (as everyone begins yelling at Yuki) that Nakahara… was his roommate. This mean person could have been bunking with him. Oh, god, what if the dead kids had still been able to access the dorms? What if Yuki had seen him with the pineapple and practicing his dancing alone? Was the delivery boy going to turn on him next and make fun of him? Hyun-min really didn’t want to cry anymore in one trial. To any observing, the maknae’s face would be going through some sort of sweaty, pale crisis as he cowers behind his podium…

But thankfully, Feliks steps in amidst the swearing (yes, Stella was still scary) and crying (he didn’t like Masato much, but she didn’t deserve that) to save the day once more. Hyun-min really regrets having accused him, at this point. He seemed like a genuinely good-natured guy. In the aftermath of his announcement, the maknae straightens back up, coughing into his hand before pulling up his facemask once more, perhaps to hide his thin-lipped, nervous expression.

“Why… Why are you all pro-provoking them… ? We won… we fi-figured it out, so just… be happy for now, we’re going to be free… they’re ju-just… butthurt, or- I… uh! <Shit, sorry…> Sorry, I’ll be quiet…”

Hyun-min veritably shrieks in panic as Feliks approaches him, looking determined- tears in his eyes already, he simply relinquishes the papers to whatever fate they’re going to face and cowers as if he’s going to be hit. It sure was a good thing Feliks had fixed his nose, so that it could be hit again… but behind his hands he sees that Feliks makes no move towards him, and even gives the papers back after a moment. Hyun-min feels bad for being the one to have broken the apparently not previously known news, and also for accusing someone who really seemed to have no ill will…

“I’m s-so-sorry… Feliks-san… uh- ah, you’re… yo-you’re!”

He lowers his hands only for his eyes to widen at the sight of Feliks’s chest, stained with blood- which was exactly what he wanted to see right now. His breath comes out in a choke and he can’t seem to take his eyes off it, no matter how awkward it is to be staring at someone like that. Blood on a live person. That was even worse than blood on a dead person! As if to ask Feliks if he was okay, he moves his mouth, but all that comes out is a panicked rush of air before thankfully, the other puts his shirt back on. Still, Hyun-min looks very faint as he turns back to his podium, wiping at his dry mouth with his hand.

“I-I-If you… need something to… st-t-top the bleeding, I have… a ja-jacket, or-!”

Yes, ideal. Offer your jacket to the one you’re accusing of being the mastermind. Hyun-min doesn’t even consider the idea, however, as he really… doesn’t want to be accusing Feliks at all. Others, apparently, disagree as well- after snapping out of his daze, he hears several protests raised, which he really is unsure how to answer to at the moment. His wide-eyed gaze eventually settles on Miyako as she stares at him and whispers something.

“Ah… proud… of me?”

Once more a foreign concept. Hyun-min taps his fingers against his chest, as if to ascertain that she’s referring to him and not some other Hyun-min that had inexplicably shown up. Eventually he laughs, wiping at the remaining tears on his cheeks before smiling sunnily at her.

“Th-Thank you, Miyako-san… ah, at this rate… see, I told you you’d see your sis-sister again!”

He Is Happy.

I’m dying writing this post let’s keep moving. After being gay and happy about Miyako talking to him- she’d used his first name!- he sobers up and turns to Makoto, looking more typically uncertain. 

“Ah… well, I- I mean, this was in with some official-looking documents… in the archive room, you know? It really didn’t… seem like a plant, because… it was, uh, you had to look for it, you know? Also… the folder I found it in was called ‘Evidence’ if that… helps, um… as in, evidence of someone working with Astral Cabal? You know, it was next to the files on people from past… events… so, from the people against Astral Cabal! And if the masterminds were with Astral Cabal… uh… I’m re-really sorry I don’t have any more…”

Despite the fact that it was pretty obvious they were going to reach the required number of votes, Hyun-min still breathes a sigh of relief as they go through. Thanks, buddy.

“Ah, thank you everyone… let’s work hard to succeed…”

This time he doesn’t bow, instead scrunching his face up at the papers scattered on his podium. It was hard to decide where to start, and with this many people watching… he swallows dryly, pushing up his glasses before speaking up once more.

“Um… before we get into sp-specifics, I guess… regarding the identities… the basics are, I th-think, that the two masterminds were placed here by an organization called… Astral Cabal. For one of them… they were brought into this country by an Astral Cabal… per-person. I think. Um…”

He is going down.

“In the… ar-archives, you probably saw… the files, with- names of people from past, um… groups? Incidents? I don’t really… understand, but the files, I guess, weren’t from Astral Cabal… more, someone conc-concerned with it. Like… that people could be… affil… afell… associated with it? More, um, pre-pressing was that three of them-” He tilts his head, as if recalling someone, before rattling off the names. “Jasmine Hayes, Ryouta Ishikawa and Sun-mi Choi… listed as capable of murder. I’ve never heard of any of th-them, though… but, well, that’s not important to this trial, I don’t think! Uh-”

Hyun-min swallows nervously, looking back down at his things before hearing his name mentioned. Almost incredulously he looks up at Masato as she… what, asks him to whip out files when it’s convenient? (As if someone with that sense of style could demand things of him-) In the end, he just blinks owlishly at her before… not responding. And then she just goes on to say other stuff that he kind of already knows, so he ends up steeling himself to continue on with his evidence.

“Ah, well… concerning the actual… masterminds… I did say I know the one from our group! And I-I… I do, um… but to start off, we do know one thing about both of them…”

Smiling nervously, he shuffles through his papers before coming up with a sheet covered in handwriting- the majority seems to be in Korean, but across the top is scrawled out words like ‘box’ and 'snowflake’, while on the side is what looks like a symbol-to-letter key. Presumably this is what Hyun-min had been working on for so long. What a loser, please get a life.

“I, um, spoke to Usami-san following the motive last time- he was acting oddly and said some weird… symbol… stuff- aha, it’s a good thing my memory is quite good! I wrote it down, and… there was this font on the computer, um- so I… translated it- I don’t know if it’s totally accurate, but, I mean, it’s hard to take spoken word and try to figure out what symbols that would be… especially for m-me… anyway, here! It reads- 'Their mastermind is dead, ours had gone missing.’”

Indeed, the words seem to say that. Nice reading!

The motive seems to pass over Hyun-min’s head- perhaps because he spends a great deal of time sleeping rather than doing anything productive, or perhaps because, given what he’d observed, bringing back a dead person didn’t actually seem to be possible. Or worth killing again, because despite what he’d been told, he didn’t think that poisoning some soup was actually that brave at all.

So, he just ends up napping in his room, alternately staring at the pineapple that’s still in there or lying on the floor stretching idly until something happens. Gotta keep fit to run around investigating, or something like that. (Although, at the rate they were going, he thinks that maybe he might actually get to dance again. Which would be great.) When the announcement goes off for a murder, he sighs sadly, pushing himself upright, and scurries out of his room, finally, to see what had happened… only to very quickly go pale and retreat from the control room at the painful-looking death. No matter how much he’d been around bodies, the sight of too much blood like that was…

Investigation happens bla bla bla.

Ok here we are in the trial. A large pile of papers in hand, Hyun-min veritably stumbles into the room, trying to get himself situated before making what he deems to be a very important announcement.

Of course, Masato seems to be on the ball. He doesn’t even know who she is, and actually looks kind of annoyed. He had prepared to say it without stuttering and everything, and now some person was just launching right into things willy-nilly? Jeez, she didn’t even say anything nice before… obviously not a performer of any kind. (Chill to win, Hyun-min.)

Everyone keeps talking after that, and Tsubaki seems to be very upset, which only serves to lean Hyun-min even more towards a quite childish dislike of Masato- and it’d only been a few minutes! Thankfully, Miyako was there, (as she always was), but Hyun-min tries to manage a kind smile as best he can in Tsubaki’s direction.

“Ah, Tsubaki-san… your talent was in some files online, if that’s what you’re wondering about- I m-mean, I know it too, but-! I think… well, I don’t really know what it means, b-but… anyway, besides that- I think it would be beneficial to listen to-to… what you have to say! Like Miyako-san said, if… you want to discuss this murder, I’ll listen while everyone ge-gets votes in for mastermind stuff… and if…” Here he gives a pretty sour look, for someone who’s been friendly all this time. “Masato-san would… chi-chill to win for like, one second, we could discuss things kindly… please.”

So maybe he had been getting more confident after all! 

After speaking his piece and looking down at his papers, he brightens up a bit and smiles at the whole class. Yes, he could still make his little announcement, and he’d do it in a much kinder way. And here came the realization that Stella would be able to attend this trial as well, and so he wouldn’t actually have to explain everything by himself! That was a relief.

“Despite her… bluntness… I was going to say the same thing as M… Masato-san. I’m a-a-actually confident…” He looks amazed at the word coming out of his mouth. Please stop. “… confident that, um, I… know at the very least, certainly, the mastermind for my group. I’m sure- and I have… proof, it’s really professional, see?" 

Here he pauses to hold up his stack of paper, looking very proud of himself. He even gives a small laugh. Stop this.

"So… I guess I’ll show that after… ? All my stuff. What is it, we have to call- well, you’ve all begun to vote and su-such, but, um… let’s all work hard to get out of here, alright? I believe in you all!”

Damn it! Someone was in there! Mikio slunk back around the corner and hid behind a wall. His head slowly peeked around the corner as he debated to himself. Did he wait for this kid to leave the room? Or did he risk conversation? His stomach growled, and he pursed his lips as he thought through his options. 

The person was making noodles. That was going to take long. Too, too long. … Right? Who knows. He’s never had to turn on a stove a day in his life. So he had to risk it. He wasn’t sure if his stomach could hold out much longer. Mikio lurked back into the kitchen in hopes of avoiding detection or confrontation. Unfortunately, he failed miserably at both. The snacks were in that cabinet right next to the pink-haired person, and there was no way he wouldn’t be spotted.

At the sudden brandishing of the noodles, the prince yelped and flailed backwards. His entire body crouched down and his hands reflexively crossed in front of his head to protect himself. He remained this way until the other teenager began speaking.

“It-….. It’s fine. You weren’t expecting my lurking, and th-that’s understandable in this situation, I suppose.” he responded as he recomposed himself. “It’s Mikio Hanezuka. I have no idea where you got ‘Mak’ from–.”

…. Did he just… offer him food… ? Mikio turned away from Hyun-min for a brief moment.

“What is with these people offering me food? First the midwife, now this kid… However I do suppose it would be in my best interest to accept it. After all, one can only survive on chips and water for so long…” he monologued to himself in a low-mutter. “Alright. It’s decided.”

The prince returned to his regular stature and cleared his throat.

“I-It’s alright... I mean... yes, well, I shouldn’t have re-reacted so suddenly, but everyone’s on edge, aren’t they? And I... uh... apologize, I- I’m usually okay with names, but I... hav-haven’t seen you around at all? I’m Hyun-min, if you... didn’t know... it’s nice to meet you, Mikio-san...”

Whatever confidence they’d had, if even for a moment, is wiped away gradually as Mikio turns away and begins to whisper. Had they... offended him that badly? Their hearing was poor enough that they couldn’t even catch a single word of Mikio’s monologue, and so they’re left standing nervously and clutching a box of noodles to their chest until he speaks again.

“W-W-Watch...?” That was a bit concerning. With eyes on them, they would surely mess up, but... “Sure... sure, if you want. Wh... Why do you want to? Oh! Um, whatever is fine. Hyun-min or... Yi... or anything so long as it isn’t... pr-pr-prince... or something like that.”

When Hyun-min reacts in shock, Ryouichi could not help but have a similar reaction… if only subdued. His eye-lids raise kind of like the two parents in the last scene of The Christmas Tree (1991) when crap goes down. nice. I’m so bad at narration rn and I have homework I am sorry Finn. Me hoping that that is a good enough explanation cause I think it sounds p accurate?? Just keeping it real.

Ryouichi attempts to stifle another chuckle, though his growing grin still managed to be able to be seen through the cracks between the fingers of his raised hand.

“Er… What would you want me to say instead of your given name then…? It’d be kind of rude of me to n-not use an appropriate honorific, but…”

We just don’t know. Nevertheless, Ryouichi continues on with the conversation.

“You’ve still been doing kind of well in the… the department of confidence, I’d think. You managed to be brave enough to use my plans, right…? And sneak your way to a mistrial. You were confident enough to try again too, weren’t you?”

“Aaah… I probably shouldn’t be talking about that though, but… I think you’ve shown enough bravery on your own even if you don’t know it. Just gotta rework it, heheh… It’s all good.”

Casually kills two birds with one stone. Just address the apology and the confidence thing real quick, nice.

“It’s fine, b-by the way… I got my stuff back when I died, just… it’s all gone now after we got relocated. We’re all in that boat though, hm…?”

“I’ve been fine, yes… I’m glad to see that you’ve been helping the trials even with all of us dying off… I really wish I could’ve helped…”

As his voice gets more jittery and he feels his face heating up and the water works oncoming, the artist takes off his glasses and holds them in his hands whilst he trembles ever so slightly.

“I really wish you g-g… guys could have… could have heard me before this…! I’m real, real sorry, I jus’… I j-jus’…”

Similar to every character in The Christmas Tree (1991), Hyun-min looks vaguely pained, probably a reaction to the hologram technology that he hadn’t expected to actually work or anything. At least, when Ryouichi doesn’t seem to be too upset, he manages to smile himself, despite the fact that his face is red with embarrassment.

“My given name is fine, really! I just mean, i-if you think it’s a mouthful- be-because sometimes people do, I mean- you can make up a nickname, I don’t really ca... care... people do it all the time, anyway!”

So long as it wasn’t That Nickname, he was pretty much fine with anything... hopefully Ryouichi would take it easy on him, though.

“Ah... you’ve been w... wa-watching us? That’s... well, I guess not unexpected, but... you think I’ve been confident? Aha... aha, th... that’s very kind of you to say! Um... I don’t think lying about... what I did was the bravest thing I’ve ev-ever done, though...”

Suddenly he looks vaguely uncomfortable again, although he keeps a smile on his face. After all, it wasn’t like he was proud of having tried to kill twice. That wasn’t exactly something you put on your resume.

“Th... Thanks anyway, though... it’s good you got your stuff back- well, until it all burned, anyway, but- eh. It’s the idea... thought that counts, or isn’t that wh-what they say...?” 

Eventually, after trying to remember the phrase for a few awkward moments, he manages to make eye contact again, only to look startled.

“W-Wait, Ryouichi-san, don’t cry! It’s fine, r-really! I mean, sure, I- we- uh... wish that you could have been around for longer too, but... you’re here now, so... so isn’t that good? And I’m sure you’ve been re-really helpful in the... whatever trials you’ve had as holograms, or- ack, pl-please don’t cry...!”

Unsure how to go about comforting the other but rapidly getting more and more upset himself at seeing his friend cry, Hyun-min wrings his hands together awkwardly and then... reaches forward, perhaps to try and pat Ryouichi on the shoulder. Of course, he didn’t think that through, and his hand goes right through the other, earning a yelp from the maknae.

“…Yeah, I was. Just finished, though. You’re not a disruption.“

Even as he said that, he refused to look at Hyun-min directly and he sounded just a little bit disappointment. Was that a lie? It was probably a lie. You can’t hide anything, Haruki. He took his melon soda and finished it in a big gulp, then swiveled around so he was facing a trash can. He just barely missed the shot. He cursed and went to pick up his trash, before once again claiming his seat in front of the computer.

“…No. ‘s actually Masato’s…er, Maeda’s. You…might’ve seen her in the trial room earlier.“

“Um... t-t-that’s good. That I... didn’t disturb... anything.”

You’re on a roll, buddy. 

He stumbles back a bit when the food stylist rises from his chair, shrinking back towards the computers as if he thinks that Haruki’s going to tackle him or something. After a moment, he realizes that’s silly and straightens back up, his face bright red- which could be a welcome difference from sickly pale, maybe.

Owlishly, and still a bit hunched over once Haruki is seated again, Hyun-min blinks and then points at the journal and computer in turn with his cup.

“Umm... Masato-san... I m-may have seen her, I don’t remember, that was weird, wasn’t it? But... umm... if you don’t mi-mind me asking, what were you working on? Was it, um... related to... this?”

After a very tearjerking and somewhat awkward reunion with Masato, Haruki finally decided to go on with his quest to actually do something for the group. And, well, he decided to do that by checking out the office.

He situated himself in front of one of the computers, with Masato’s notebook open in front of him and with pencil at the side. He brought up a cold melon soda from the kitchen, since he figured that he was going to be there for a while.

…

A good who-knows-how-many minutes later, Haruki slumped back in his swivel chair. His hand hurt from all that writing and he seriously needed to take a break. He popped open his soda and took little sips, absentmindedly swiveling around in his chair.

As soon as he saw the door to the office crack open, he quietly closed the notebook and logged out of the computer he was at, all whist holding that can of melon soda to his lips. Skills. He seemed to relax a little bit when he saw that familiar pink head come through the door, and he set the can back on the table.

“Oh, hey, Yi.”

It’s too late for him to run, though, as he takes a small, confused step in and Haruki looks at him and addresses him directly. As if by instinct, the maknae’s face shifts into a smile and he looks nervously at the floor, ceiling, and then finally into his juice as if it holds some sort of mysterious secret. I’m sorry I need to go to bed I can’t write narration.

“Ah, hello, Haruki-san... I d-didn’t expect to find you in here, umm... are you working? I’m sorry to have disturbed you, I was just going to play... what was it... Mi-Minesweeper or something.”

As he talks, his tone picks up confidence. Perhaps he’s bolstered by the fact that he actually has talked to Haruki before and that the other isn’t a hologram. Or maybe talking to Ryouichi had brightened him up. Who knows when it comes to this gay. Either way, as he talks he sort of slinks into the room, eventually reaching out to grab his papers off the desk once he’s close enough.

“I... Is that notebook yours?”

“Hyun-min-san!”

Ryouichi cries out in surprise when he both sees and hears the maknae address him. Turning around to face the other more properly, the doll painter’s wide eyes stared for a long time before he broke his own silence and spoke up again with a bit of a high-pitched, nervous chuckle.

“Gaah… S-Sorry… Should I… have called you Hyun-min Yi-san instead…? I’m just… It’s been so long, I think… I got carried away.”

“Er… Would you want me to speak like I used to…? I know this probably, um… sounds more like Clover, eheh. I’ve been really trying to… to improve since my death! Ahh… That’s too much about myself though, isn’t it…? Sorry…”

The blond gave an apologetic bow that at least was shorter than the ones he had inititally given the maknae when they had first met. When he raised his head and took on a more upright stance again, however, his muscles eased and the artist gave a soft smile.

“Um... Hyun-min-san is fine! It’s n-n-noooo problem, mhm... t-too many, um... dashes, though...”

Not quite knowing what the word is, he waves his finger in the air to signify a hyphen, and then gives a nervous smile.

“N-No, the way you’re t-talk-talking now is fine, if you’re trying t... to improve! You sound, um... ummm... more con-confident, yes! Ahah... m-maybe it was all tr-transferred to me, huh...? Oh, d-don’t worry, you’re fine! Mhm!”

After a moment, Hyun-min frowns slightly and drops into a bow, staying down as he continues to talk.

“I, umm... wanted to apo-apolo... apologize for... n-not doing anything to... ummmmm.... s-s-save you... and also for st-stealing your th-things. Mhm... y-yes, I’m v-v-very sorry.”

Please chill the Fuc

Sniffling slightly, he does eventually straighten back up, crossing his arms over his chest nervously. Once more, as if by instinct, a small smile appears on his face.

Ah, yes. Similarly to a black hole, Hyun-min felt himself drawn to the control room even if he didn’t want to see what was inside one bit. Finally, he’d been able to get some needed sleep after talking with Stella- he’d been nearly sick from overworking, probably (it’d happened before, but never because of busy work), and it had been nice to cough himself to sleep, but- now he was shuffling towards the control room with a feeling of dread in his chest. No more needed to happen before he and Stella could…

They could…

“St… Stella-san… ? <S-Sh… Shit, no, wait, w… we… we were going… >”

The maknae coughs once behind his mask, eyes rapidly welling up with tears. This hadn’t been the plan at all- they were going to leave, both of them, he was almost 100% sure of it for once in his life, and someone- someone had messed it up. And for what? There wasn’t even a motive, so why did someone have to go and kill her… (he’s becoming rapidly convinced he’s cursed).

His gaze flicks up to the console for a moment, settling on the words, before he remembers- yes, maybe they could hear. Maybe he could… at least apologize in the end.

“Stella-s-san… I’ll m-make sure to get ev-ev-everyone… out… I will! I pro-promise!”

(How on Earth was he meant to do all that alone?)

He just felt silly now, scrubbing at his eyes sadly and looking a bit closer at the screen.

SAVIOUR PROCEDURE RETRIEVAL: INITIATED.

“…in the control room, on one of the computers, it was… …the file was called… ‘[…]’s Savior Procedure’…”

NOW FETCHING FOR REAL WORLD.

Now, Hyun-min wasn’t good with technology like this by any means, but the words on the screen - TRIAL ROOM: COMPLETE - if they meant what he thought they meant, then that would mean…

His teary gaze flicks down to Stella for a moment, and he considers it- had she been messing with the computers after what he’d told her? Surely not… that would make this death… his fault? Again? Hopefully she was just there to take a look or something, and it had been an accident, because he really didn’t need to be responsible for another death-

Anyway, the words on the screen, talking about the trial room with that procedure… there was no use lingering around. He needed to go look. Surely Stella would have wanted him to continue to be productive. He’s almost put off by the weird flickering elevator, however, like something in a ghost movie.

Ghost movie ends up being an apt description for it, really, as he hears the commotion below and shuffles out, only to set his still-teary gaze on someone he never thought he’d see again- more accurately, several someones. He’d been right, for once, but… it seemed too unbelievable to be true. Hyun-min can barely will himself to take steps out of the elevator and towards the weird hologram dead kids.

“I… t-this…” What, exactly, were you meant to say in a situation like this? He makes as if considering it for a moment, and then simply decides to just- blurt out what he’s thinking. Thank you. “R-Ryouichi-san, it’s good t-t-to see you ag-again!”

Hyun-min, the brave soul he is, can’t really watch the execution. As usual. He ends up with his hands smacked over his eyes, smearing his cheeks with tears. It just wasn’t fair, that people had to die for accidental crimes or for being honest. He shouldn’t be alive. He’d lied and killed on purpose. And yet, he’s pitifully glad for his life.

His hands remain over his eyes even several seconds after he’s sure the execution has ended. There needed to be no risk of seeing any blood, because he needed to get out of this courtroom as fast as possible, because he really didn’t want to pass out and get inconveniently stuck here for some indefinite time. There were things to do.

Harue’s mom and someone else… he would make sure to tell them when he got out.

For now, he needed fuel. Hyun-min wasn’t a studier, and never really had been, but this was like a finals cram or something. Not that he’d ever really crammed for a final besides studying quickly in a van while being ferried around, but- still. He knew, from movies and stuff, that you had to have lots of food when you sat in front of a computer for extended times, so that’s where he would go. 

—

Hyun-min really hopes that his trip to the kitchen will be uneventful. Really hopes. He didn’t need someone to embarrassingly see him with an armful of chips. Of course, things never go the way he hopes, and as soon as he steps in he sets his wide-eyed gaze on someone much taller than him. The one who looked like a tree!

In an effort to be ~stealthy~, he clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle a shriek of surprise at seeing Feliks and bends his knees into… a squat? What the fuck? Like some sort of really bad secret agent, he begins to scoot around the kitchen as quietly as he can, trying to get to the pantry without Feliks noticing him and, god forbid… starting conversation. He’s doing pretty well, too! Aside from his weird little bun poking over the counter, he’s small enough that he can make it around pretty inconspicuously. Heck, he even gives himself a silent cheer…

…only to somehow trip through the doorway of the pantry and send himself on his face. Very smooth! He certainly shrieks this time, smashing his nose into the ground before flipping himself over with a surprising amount of agility and fixing Feliks, who’d certainly heard him by now, with a watery-eyed stare.

“I’m… s-sss-sorry for disrupting you… just ig-ignore me, oh- <shit, dammit…>”

What language!

With a deep frown, he reaches up to touch his nose, which seems to be bleeding, and then turns pale and bright red in turn, turning back to the pantry and pretending that he hadn’t just smashed his face into a floor gracefully.

“Those… fl-fl-flowers are… nice…”

{tw: brief suicide mention}

While the maknae had claimed that the motive hadn’t affected him in the least, perhaps he was lying (as he so often did), as he seems… dazed. Even after he upsetly asks Harue about their activities and they answer, he says nothing else, staring in fear at nothing in particular. Perhaps his gaze flicks over the kamishibai teller every few moments, but with each look he flinches away, digging his nails into his palms guiltily.

(How dare you accuse someone else when you’d not confessed yourself, he thinks. It was unfair to everyone around him that he still lived.)

He couldn’t bring himself to smile in reassurance at Miyako as she answers his question- which he’d forgotten- only fixing her with a tired stare before looking down at his hands again. Ugh, his nails were disgusting. Letting yourself go, huh?

Hyun-min’s head jerks up almost mechanically as Harue confesses, as if he hadn’t actually expected that they’d done it. Perhaps he’d kept some naive hope even as he’d brought attention to them, that they’d just coincidentally met with Kei and coincidentally were probably mentioned in the note. But that had, of course, been for nothing, because here he was, correct in his suspicions.

What was he meant to say? Apologize? (Someone who was a good person wouldn’t have done this.) He really wishes he could apologize, but his mouth won’t move, nor will his hands, nor will anything. In the distance, somewhere miles away he hears Miyako, and he wishes again, but it’s like his mind doesn’t match up with what’s in front of him. He sees others voting, but he doesn’t move, instead staring dazedly at something. Do better next time. Work harder. No one likes this side of you, so improve it for the future. 

When he finally snaps out of his daze, digging a thumbnail into his wrist, his eyes are watery, his skin paler than usual. He needed to improve, but… ah, he feels himself crying again. Voting was over, and they were right.

He realizes he never voted, frowns, and taps his panel for himself anyway. Symbolically! Then he looks up at Harue again.

“Haru… Harue-san… I’m sorry th-that I… I said anything, I really-really… really enjoyed our time as fr-friends here and I-I understand… understand… I, uh- uh-…”

He understood how it was to mess up like that, end with someone dead (although his had been more deliberate, of course). (The soup had been meant for him, too, but he panicked).

Be useful! What was that thing Miyako always asked people?

“I… Is there any-anyone we should… family, or… that would…”