Cutthroat Kitchen

"She’s so little. It’s.. kinda scary, to be honest. I don’t wanna think about other little kids being in here. Like.. uh.. the red ghost boy… It’s just really creepy, not to say that this place isn’t already creepy, but… yeah."

Kenichi Kagata. Isamu felt himself nod faintly in confirmation that he had indeed heard the name he had been attempting to get for what felt like years. Now that he had it, it didn’t seem as important as he had originally thought. It was just a name, after all. The name of the person that he still felt uneasy around, but hey, at least he was trying to initiate some conversation so he wouldn’t be as scared of him.

"Everyone’s about to give up because it looks like we’re gonna be killed off person by person until we’re all gone and there’s only one person left to die. I mean, we’re trapped in here by some sort of creepy ass ghost with a red glowing eye, and he can get into our minds and get to our pasts and stuff that you wanna forget about. That guy is using everything we wanna forget about to make us frickin’ kill each other. I dunno what plans you have to make it end, because I sure as heck don’t have anything, but hey, if you have anything, I’m up for hearing about it.”

"I…hope that there aren't other kids here. This is clearly their school, so… Whatever happened here, I hope they weren't around for the worst of it. Especially not if any others are going to be abandoned here like those two – kids shouldn't be alone like this."

Kenichi didn't have an immediate response as Isamu listed off the many ways their situation stacked the odds against them. What could be done against the supernatural? What could be done against a foe who could attack them in such personal ways? There was a supposed escape clause in finding a student who was allied with Mono-Oni, but given their history just finding murderers, how were they supposed to even begin finding out that person's identity? And how could anyone be sure that would be enough to free them?

He momentarily distracted himself with the search for paints. He couldn't quite identify what types of paints he was picking up, except that he managed to find a few that were opaque and still usable. Scooping up some blue and green paints and setting them down by the door, he called for Isamu's attention.

"I've been talking with Momo-chan, asking her some things about this school. When—if there's another trial, I'm going to tell everyone what I'm saying now, but…"

Kenichi walked over to a surface he could spread something out on and reached into one of his pockets, pulling out two nametags, a newspaper clipping, and a letter.

"At least she’s got someone keeping an eye on her. Momoko-chan’s nice. I’m.. sure she.. appre..cia..ugh, she likes your company."

Isamu, you shouldn’t even be trying to use long words. You don’t even know what they mean, probably.

He felt a mildly irritated sigh escape his mouth as he looked to the side to watch Kenichi. If you have a name, tell it to him. Isamu doesn’t call you Scary Blue Hair just because you are scary and have blue hair, it’s because he doesn’t remember your name.

"Would you tell me that name then? Because I can’t remember. At all."

Isamu turned his gaze to the ground when Kenichi brought the trial up. He had kind of wanted to smooth it out between them, but with that shitty apology? It was probably going to be the best he was going to get. Isamu just pursed his lips in vague sourness.

"Yeah. It’s fine. I didn’t mean to get the trial so.. off course. I just… kinda freaked out a little. I just forgot about the tests, because I wasn’t listening, and then I started freaking out even more, which made everything worse. And it didn’t help that you looked and sounded like you wanted to tear my head off my shoulders and toss me into a hole.

"Yeah. Momo-chan is… She really deserves better than this. She's trying to help us, but…"

He trailed off for a bit, unsure of how to continue this thought. This was something he was going to have to structure better if he wanted to explain. Absentmindedly, he brushed his fingers over his pants, this time on the opposite pocket. That lab trip had given him so many little scraps of info, much of it in actual scraps of paper…but he wasn't sure how much of it he wanted to know.

"Kenichi Kagata."

Speaking of things people wanted to know, thanks for finally giving up your name, bro.

"Everyone kind of freaked out. This isn't getting any easier, and, shit, we're just – slipping. It's like everyone's just about to give up, and…and it won't stop, not until someone does something."

Kenichi's paranoia and awkward non-apology had built into clear frustration. He didn't know who to blame for the way the last trial had progressed; it bounced over so many individuals that the only clear suspect seemed to be the group as a whole. Was this going to be the wake-up call that whipped people in gear?

He would have liked to say he believed so.

It wasn't merely the last trial that frustrated him: It was the hopelessness that was staining them the way ash and blood stained them. It was the very real possibility that nothing would change, and that the circle would continue endlessly.

"It has to end."

Not saying much besides the occasional nod, Isamu slipped out of his ‘hiding spot’ and into the hall.

"I guess you can. I dunno, really. I don’t use paint all that much. Just pencils."

The designer watched Kenichi tie the apron around the door, before slowly walking over. His green eyes flicked over Kenichi’s apron, now hanging from the door. 

"Mmm.. I’ll come with, I guess. I don’t like bein’ on my own, unless I have Nikki with me, but they’re gone right now, so.."

Isamu lifted and dropped his shoulders in a shrug. What was he supposed to call the guy? He couldn’t remember his last name to save his life, and he was scary. Boom. Nickname.

"Yep, really."

"Fair enough. I'm getting sick of being by myself, too. Momo-chan's pretty much the only person I speak to…"

Which wasn't to say that she was unpleasant company – Kenichi still felt like he needed to keep checking in on her, because who else was keeping an eye on her wellbeing? She did seem to have other friends here, but under the circumstances he wanted to be sure that she wasn't abandoned by everyone.

"I mean, I do have a name. And I'd rather not share a nickname with 'Mister Scary', thank you."

Just in case there was any confusion as to who Mister Scary was supposed to be, Kenichi made a gesture shaping out the tall and spindly figure of Mono-Oni.

"…Look, sorry about getting on you. We were running out of time and didn't know what to look for, and I needed to be absolutely sure you were clear."

Is that an apology? That's a crappy apology.

Kenichi still believed that maybe this could be enough. No one was in imminent danger right now, and there wasn't the pressure of a trial and execution pounding down on them. So surely it was now all water under the bridge?

Sticking his head back around the corner, Kenichi.. thankfully wasn’t ready to slice him. He just rubbed his hand on his APRON. Isamu felt himself wince and want to smash his own head against the wall, his head screaming.

'ALL THAT GROSS STUFF WAS ALL OVER HIS APRON, DUDE, WHAT THE FRICK, OH MY GOD YOUR APRON, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, I’M GOING TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK SCARY BLUE HAIR, PLEASE. DON’T. DO. THAT.’

Fortunately, Isamu managed to keep that outburst in his head, and pursed his lips a little instead. Never dirty your clothes around Isamu.

Right, enough about clothes, Kenichi was actually talking to him. It would be best for blue hair to listen.

"That sounds creepy as heck. I probably would have died on the spot or something. I’m glad you’re okay though, um.. You should probably tell people about that though. It just looks part of the creepiness and people will ignore it, I think."

Oh it was rotten.. tomatoes?? Isamu didn’t know what the hell it was, but he felt himself swallow uncomfortably, before he pressed his chin into his hoodie, almost trying to shrink into it.

He could not believe Kenichi had just rubbed rotten tomato on his apron. Who does that?????? Someone who doesn’t care about their clothes. That’s evil.

"Well, it’s an art room, so it.. kinda should. It’s old though, so it could be dried up or anything. It’s always worth it to check though. I think."

He glanced off to the side, trying to avert his eyes from the messy apron. Damn, this wall was so interesting. So very interesting..

"I d-don’t think we’ve met… outside of the trial thing, Scary Blue Hair-"

Isamu Hashira is so offensive sometimes. Thanks, Isamu. We can always count on you.

"Yeah, I want to try and get something clearer up. Next time everyone's…together, I'll let them know what's going on."

He hesitated at the thought of describing the group as being "together" in any way – usually that only happened when Mono-oni unleashed a wonderful new plague upon them, or when they were confronted with a dead body and the promise of an impending execution. But it was the only convenient way to spread the word about anything, and he had to keep that in mind for later.

"Even if all the paint's dry, I can probably mix some water in to get it working again."

At least, he thought that was possible? He knew it wasn't exactly the best thing to mix into several paints, but given the circumstances he couldn't really be concerned about if he ruined any of the paints in the long run.

(Maybe if Ayumichi was still around, he could have tracked her down and asked her what to do with paints that might have dried out. Well, thanks to his inaction, that wasn't exactly a possibility now, was it?)

Deciding that searching for paints was now in his best interests, Kenichi stared at the handles of the door before undoing the apron and tying it around the handles. That would most likely keep it from being opened easily, either by anything inside, or by any curious classmates who'd hopefully find the tie a deterrent.

"I'm gonna go look for some paint. Do you wanna keep an eye on this for me? Or you could come along… I'm not offended, just… Scary? Really?"

Did he really intimidate people that much? With Artie he was able to accept it as him being nervous around everyone, but with Isamu being anxious around him he was beginning to think there was a pattern.

He didn’t normally have anywhere to go, but after talking to Nikki, he realized he’d have to check around and put some effort into searching too. He had steeled himself the best he could, but he still found himself scared to dig deeper wherever he looked, and as a result, did nothing. He is so good at this.

Isamu reached up and carefully adjusted his hair, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jumper and sighing a little. That was one of the sucky things, to be fair. He was running out of nice hoodies and he was running out fast. It was going to be true fashion disaster, especially seeing as it was kind of freezing out in this place and he was not immune to colds. He would have to re-wear his hoodies. This is incredibly illegal.

His hands linked over the flashlight that he never used for whatever dumb reason he had, and he let another momentary sigh escape his mouth. He missed holding her hand. He missed taking selfies with her. He missed talking to her. Her energy, her cheek, her method of avoidance when it came to cursing.. He missed everything about her. It was like he was missing half his person. Like she only rejoined when he was with Nikki.

He had looked through the folders in his room earlier, and had just… felt awful.

The blue haired boy was startled out of his thoughts when a sudden smashing sound came from.. somewhere. Dear God, had he just walked in on a murder? Great. Great! Thanks world, you always knew how to cheer up ol’ Isamu Hashira, didn’t you.

Oh wait. There was no murderer, unless the Big Scary Kenichi was smashing blood against the door to make that X shape. That red looked a little… too red, to be honest. It was still gross as heck though, whatever it was.

There was no corpse around, and no fresh blood on the floor either. Isamu, like an idiot would, deemed it safe. So technically, if Kenichi was using blood against the door, he just had another ten or eleven pints right here for him. Fabulous.

Isamu, luckily for him, was not completely stupid, and was still absolutely terrified of the Traitor to All Blue Haired Kind. So he pressed himself against the wall the best he could, and peered around the corner. He was sure Kenichi wouldn’t appreciate that he was watching him, and so Isamu decided to call out. Quietly. Given his position, it seemed like the hairclips he had on his hair had spoken up, 

When Isamu did not seem like he was immediately charging him, Kenichi slowly moved his hands away from his pocket, segueing into the more natural motion of trying to wipe off the pulp on the back of his apron. Not…exactly the smartest thing he could have done, given the lack of easy ways to clean clothes, but running around with stained, sticky hands wouldn't be much better.

Normally, he'd have assured Isamu that hiding was unnecessary – after all, he was mostly oblivious to just how much he had terrorized him in the trial. However, given recent events, Kenichi himself was feeling anxious as well, and after quickly glancing around to see if anyone else had stumbled on the scene, he leaned away from the doors, holding on by the handles to keep them shut.

"There was a – thing inside the lab. It was…upright, kind of like…"

He shook his head, unable to fully express the humanoid figure he had fled from in the dimming light.

"I'm not sure what it was, but I'm not going back in to find out. It came after me, but I don't think it's broken the doors open yet. If it's still inside an awake, I don't want anyone coming in unaware. That's why I have this up."

Kenichi freed a hand to gesture at the X on the doors, noting that without bright lights, it was difficult to see. He dropped his gaze to the floor, at what remained of the pulped tomatoes.

[ TW: Eye trauma, emetophobia ]

Kenichi ended up staying in the science lab for very different reasons than he had expected to be there at first. Convinced that there was something of use to be taken from the room, he decided to give it a thorough search, covering as much space as he could with the charge he had on his flashlight batteries.

Maybe it would have been better had he just left in spite of his curiosity. Even just turning and walking out after finding Momoko’s obituary would have been fine. But no, he had to stay and keep looking. He had to stay and find a dead body.

When that boy in the classroom had been found seemingly ages ago, there was still a shield of denial and apathy protecting Kenichi from the worst of the horror – the one thing that kept him from completely ignoring the existence of the corpse was the smell of rotted flesh and blood. But people had died in front of him since then, and alone in the darkened lab with piles of whatever flooding the floor, he couldn’t help but take in the full impact of this dead kid who had blood smeared all around him and no eyes – even under the shine of the flashlight, they remained a void that threatened to blot out the little light in the room.

Yeah. It was time to rip himself away from this sight before he spiraled any deeper into that morbid train of thought.

Kenichi began to make his way out of the room, but he was uncertain of the safest way back to the door, and he was pretty sure he ended up taking the long route out. His flashlight still had enough power left for him to sweep over the floor on the way, collecting a few more bottlecaps as he walked. He tilted the angle of his flashlight just a little bit away, and the light was truncated by a sheet covering…something. He could see the blood, and he had a good guess just what was under the sheet, and he decided he would leave some other sap to deal with yet another body…

He took a step back, and the lump under the sheet shuddered and moved forward.

Of fucking course it did.

Believing himself to be (somewhat) alone in the room, there was absolutely nothing stopping Kenichi from screaming the moment he realized that there was now some kind of animated thing coming his way. As much trust as he had in Momoko, he wasn’t going to wait and see if this thing shared any of her good intentions, and he turned around and booked it out of the room. Kenichi risked cutting corners as he navigated the odd spots around the floor, his feet and then legs feeling as if they burned as he stepped into the energy.

The flashlight, dim from overuse, was swung around wildly as he tried to get his bearings – first, back behind himself, where the shambling creature lurched after him and practically forced him to keep cut deeper into the energy to get out. Kenichi felt like he wanted to just double over and vomit from the stinging pain that kept shooting through his body, but he remembered the body with no eyes and the promise he had just made and he knew he needed to keep forcing one foot in front of the other. He swung the light forward, a cry of relief escaping him when he saw the door was right before him. Just before he rushed out, the light caught on something that stood out against the floor, and he had just enough presence of mind to sweep down and scoop it up as he dove through the doors, slamming them shut.

Kenichi braced his body against the lab doors; there seemed to be no struggle from inside, and he took this apparent moment of safety to just collapse right there, legs still spasming from the contact with the energy.

- - -

He was so fucking done with this place.

Somehow, Kenichi crawled and then walked away from the science lab; the doors did not immediately burst open, but he wasn’t sure if the room was safe anymore. And Kenichi Kagata realized in that moment that everything in this school really did seem bent on killing them all.

Science Lab tile A5 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile A6 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile A7 yields…

<… A N A T O M Y  M O D E L …>

The moment your light shines on this tile, you are faced with a grotesquely shaped lump under a sheet. Normally, this wouldn’t be frightening in the slightest…but with blood and fluids continuously staining the cloth, and the way you swear it moved towards you, you back away immediately.

Unfortunately, it follows.

With surprising speed, the upright form chases you throughout the science lab - your feet sting where you can’t avoid stepping into the malevolent energy, driven so desperately by the knowledge that you have to escape from this creature. When stumbling past it, trying to get by to the door, you spot a scrap of paper on the floor and snatch it up before you bolt past the lab doors and slam them closed.

Safe…for now.

< Inspect the note? >

Science Lab tile B6 yields…

Bottlecap x3

A pretty green bottlecap from a popular Japanese drink. It’s about the size and shape of a coin…maybe there’s something you can use it on!

Science Lab tile C6 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile C7 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile D5 yields…

Science Lab tile B1 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile C1 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile B2 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile C2 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile C5 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile G3 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile G4 yields…

Bottlecap x1

A pretty green bottlecap from a popular Japanese drink. It’s about the size and shape of a coin…maybe there’s something you can use it on!

Science Lab tile F1 yields…

Nametag

This looks like it belongs to a Hope’s Peak student….but where could they be? You decide to keep it in case you can find them and return it.

Science Lab tile E1 yields…

Haruya’s Body

Oh, god…

Science Lab tile D1 yields…

Someone has already searched this tile. Try again!

Science Lab tile G1 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile G2 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile I1 yields…

Nothing!

Science Lab tile I2 yields…

Bottlecap x2

A pretty green bottlecap from a popular Japanese drink. It’s about the size and shape of a coin…maybe there’s something you can use it on!

Science Lab tile I3 yields…

Torn Obituary

A torn scrap of newspaper. It’s dirty and crumpled, but still perfectly legible. It reads:

"Momoko Higurashi, much adored eight-year-old daughter of Mamoru and Miyo Higurashi, died on November 18 after being trapped in a fire at an undisclosed location. She will be missed by not only her parents, but by her older brother, Satoshi Higurashi, and the children of Akurai Shujin Elementary who called her a friend. The services will be held at Aoyama Funeral Hall on November 21; please call XXX-XXXX for details."

[ location change: Science Lab ]

And it wasn’t a surprise at all when it was announced that Isamu was innocent, nor that there would be consequences for their failure to figure out who the murderer was.

The more unpredictable event was exactly what the consequences would entail. Would Isamu be made into a scapegoat based on the measly majority he had gained? Would Mono-Oni take this as a sign that any entertainment had been squeezed out of the straggling survivors and slaughter them all right there?

As it turned out, the ultimate punishment targeted only a single person. Just not someone who had actively been involved in the collapse of the discussion.

Kenichi could not claim to know anything about Ayumichi, and the stretches of silence, broken by Toshiro’s ranting and Juan’s yelling and her yelling, gave little hint as to what kind of person was now just moments away from death. She herself said she had been avoiding her classmates – did anyone ever get to know her beyond a name in all their time here? Was the silence because they were so stunned that someone who wasn’t even a part of the discussion was going to take the fall, or because they couldn’t properly mourn a person they didn’t know?

(He could not claim innocence in this regard, unable to meet her eyes for more than a second before he stared at his tightly-clenched hands on his podium. Even now, his silence and inaction continued to damn Ayumichi.)

She vanished with a whimper, thrown into an undeserved execution, and only then was Kenichi able to look up.

Just in time to see the structure of the box, the small space with no exit to be seen as one object after another fell in and stole away space to move.

One could probably assume that the paleness in Kenichi’s face was from the apparent threat that Ayumichi was to be crushed. One could probably assume that when he pushed himself away from his podium and turned around once Ayumichi was backed against wall in the crowded room, he was just sparing what little dignity was left by not watching as the blade tore through her.

(It would not be a correct assumption.)

Kenichi left as soon as it seemed clear to leave. He bit down on his scarf, practically shoving it down his throat, all to fight back the urge to just scream as he rushed down the narrow pathway out of the trial room once more. At least he knew the halls would open back up at the end and bring him back into the school.

Although it was little consolation, escaping right back into the same stale air surrounded by the same old walls. Everything was becoming same same same and even with less walking bodies and more points of light from ghosts the monotony was so overwhelming that even in open space he felt trapped.

He didn’t return to his room to rest, even though the dust he breathed turned solid and weighed down his body and made him want to just sleep and sleep and hope maybe he could be better at hiding from the horrors than Ayumichi was. He didn’t go to any of the bathrooms, to clean up even though the burst of activity and panic caused his eyes and throat and lungs to burn so intensely he wondered if he was bleeding dirt and chemicals right this moment.

Kenichi seemed to be a little annoyed with Toshiro as he spoke up. Was he rolling his eyes at him, even? Stop that, Kenichi, you didn’t exactly do much to stop the vampire discussion.

But for what it was worth, he complied, walking back towards his own podium but stopping around the empty space marked with the names of Charger and Mattie. He gestured for someone to come check him over again and opened his mouth wide; despite his prolonged exposure to the formaldehyde, the irritation was minimal.

"My throat’s still sore, but it shouldn’t be nearly as much as someone who spent all that time around the chemical.

Well, any building aggression Kenichi had was quickly erased once Isamu showed that he really was willing to comply. He did take note of his eyes, but given the circumstances, it wasn’t a reliable indicator on it’s own – after all, if he was to push for a conviction on eyes alone, didn’t that mean he himself would be under the spotlight too, along with others who were feeling the effects of sleep deprivation and possible chemical exposure?

As he looked over Isamu’s posture, however, one final idea came to Kenichi’s mind. But was to too late to act on it?

…Probably. But he’d try to get one more check in, even if it was incomplete.

"Yeah, alright, I don’t see anything. One more thing: Can you let go of your sleeves for a second and show your arms? Same with everyone else with long sleeves – it just hit me that Hera had wounds on them way back then, and that helped us figure them out… I don’t even know if the killer was hurt, but we have literally nothing else to go on. Here."

Inevitably, someone had to point out the slight issues with Artie’s claims, mainly the implication that vampires were even a thing. Granted, Isamu did undermine his argument a little by pointing out the other supernatural aspects of their situation, but this wasn’t the time to argue about if the existence of ghosts could potentially point to the existence of vampires.

They could talk about which one of them was the idiot later, once they addressed the more urgent problem of having no suspect.

"Fine, maybe it isn’t an actual vampire. But there is a non-zero chance that the marks might have been from a bite, and unless someone can show me a weapon that caused it I’m going to run with that because we have nothing else. We have an idea of how Uzaki-san likely died but nothing on who did all that.

I was handling formaldehyde and a fucking corpse, and I still nearly shoved my fingers into my mouth to show everyone my teeth. The least you can do is let us get a better look at your face and mouth, because we’re running out of time.”

Nani the fuck, Artie?

Well, okay. Y’know what? Kenichi was Okay with this, because it was at least something tangible to work with. Careful into to actually stick his dirty fingers into his mouth, he pulled up his upper lip and gestured for someone to check him. There was nothing remarkable about his canines or any of his other teeth. Be proud, Kenichi, you have a nice, healthy set of teeth!

"Nothinn’. Juss teeth."

He let go of his lips, blinking a little bit as the edges of his vision got a little wet. As he had predicted earlier, there were signs of irritation from prolonged exposure on his face, but he lacked the severe redness and teariness that he had said to be the only clear sign.

His voice already on its way to recovery despite the strained undertone, Kenichi addressed the idea that the chair had also been used to block off the bathroom.

"That could also account for why the room needed to be aired out – it wasn’t that the culprit spent too long in the bathroom, but that the bottle stayed there long enough to saturate the air. Even just the effort of dragging him out would have left them breathing everything in deeply.

Like I said earlier, I couldn’t get a straight answer on if he was still alive when the neck injury happened. That leaves the possibility that it was done after death, to…confuse us, I suppose? If that was their intention, they certainly succeeded. But if he was still alive, then who knows what the reason was. To incapacitate him, I guess? Did anyone see blood anywhere besides where we found his body?

For a while, the silence was welcoming and tranquil. The blood echoing in his head grew quiet, and he was no longer focusing keenly on his breaths, trying to control how much of the chemicals he allowed himself to inhale.

But the seconds turned into minutes and Kenichi realized that there was too much quiet.

Juan’s frustrated words might have hit a bit too close to home. Did anyone have anything more to present? The only cohesive idea put forward was that formaldehyde was stolen, used to kill Tokaji, and dumped in a bathroom. But where did that leave the elastic, or the fabric, or the glue?

Kenichi stopped leaning so heavily against his podium, trying to find the words to break that silence; anyone standing close by him could probably tell that his eyes looked a little pink. What he was about to say was…dangerous, in a way. But hopefully the others would not take his words as an excuse to turn on him.

"…You know, I probably look like hell right now. I don’t expect anyone to have been paying attention and have seen my face before we found Uzaki-san’s body, but I was fine until I kept getting way too close to the fumes during the investigation. Artino-san can attest that I spent a lot of time near the fumes recently. That said…

What if the killer might still be feeling the effects of the formaldehyde? It’s not guaranteed – they might not have spent too long around it… Although…if the bathroom door was propped open, doesn’t that imply they spent long enough around the bottle that they felt a need to ventilate the room? I’d be interested in hearing another theory on that.

Besides, I think most of us would be a little bloodshot. We’re stressed and sleep-deprived, especially if any of us kept trying to stay awake to avoid the nightmares. A little pink isn’t enough to convict. And clear eyes can’t completely prove innocence if they had enough time to recover and weren’t too bad off. But if there’s anyone who can barely even keep their eyes open because they’re so teary and irritated, that’d be a big red flag.”

Kenichi didn’t have a good track record for these kinds of suggestions and had been chasing red herrings the past few times. But now—

"…Look. The way I see things, either someone is hiding evidence, or we didn’t find anything. I know an eye check isn’t accurate, but at this rate there isn’t much else to go on.

Let’s review: Uzaki-san died from respiratory failure thanks to the formaldehyde. The bottle came from the science lab and ended up in a bathroom. The door was left open, and the water was running and flooding out of the sink. Uzaki-san also has wounds on his neck, but Mono-Oni wouldn’t give a straight answer when I asked if he was still alive. The wounds are unlikely to be from an animal from outside.

I found a piece of black fabric on the balcony, and Yoshida-san found recently-used art supplies and some pieces of elastic.

I’m not seeing any cohesive way this knowledge alone can help us find our murderer. So if anyone has anything else, talk. I – shit, I know I failed to follow through on my words last time, so I don’t care if you don’t trust me. I don’t care if you don’t trust anyone.

But there’s trust, and there’s gritting your teeth and working together towards the simple goal of not getting us all killed! And I really don’t want to have to deal with it if we vote for the wrong person – or if we just give up and let that spindly fuckface kill us all!”

He might have been getting a little angrier than he needed to be.