deception... disgrace...

It was true that Ryouta had confessed. But simply put, Masami didn’t particularly care. It was less that he believed all killers were immediately evil and more that he had no reason to see him as good when it came to Ryouta. He had killed Valentina, one of the sweetest people there, for reasons that in Masami’s head, made little to no sense. Masami wasn’t sure if he outright hated Ryouta, and in fact remembered previous smalltalk with him being, for the most part, enjoyable. But enjoyable smalltalk was long forgotten the moment Ryouta confessed to killing Valentina- that was Masami immediately knew the private investigator was someone he didn’t exactly like.

So when he heard the private investigators voice coming from somebody he barely recognised, Masami merely stared, his expression an in-between of stoic and angry.

It didn’t take a genius to find out this was Ryouta Ishikawa. Behind the dark hair and uniform was a red face and pale eyes that were, to Masami, pretty clear indicators of this boys identity. Honestly, he barely knew how to react to this. Ryouta’s formality didn’t make it any better.

He looked at the boy for a few seconds before speaking, his expression and posture getting less stoic and more animated as more time went on.

Then, he began to talk.

"What is this? What? What! Are you like- trying to reinvent yourself to escape your PAST, or something? Because it’s not working! Seriously, what the hell?"

His tone was almost a forced-on anger, his words brisk and bold.

"And, uh- I am doing well, actually! I’m like- on a ship- free! And I survived it all with an innocent conscience!"

He simply stares at Ryouta for a few seconds before continuing.

"Man, seriously, what the hell? Why’d you dye your hair? And the shades…? Those were like… the coolest part of your outfit…"

He was better off not seeing more than a few colored blobs from a few good feet away. The obvious angry tone coming from the fiery spirit certainly did not help matters. Wincing, he stumbled back, holding his hands up in front of him. He visibly shook and averted his gaze. This was supposed to have been an easy stepping stone in his new path. After all, talking to another male was supposed to be perfectly in his comfort zone, right?

...Oh, right. He needed to dismiss what was in his comfort zone. He needed to put all his past experiences behind him as soon as possible. Opening his mouth, he attempted to respond after gulping.

"I... I'm sorry...? N-No I mean it... "

“L-Listen… We won’t need to see each other ever again after we arrive, so... you all are… the last people who ever need to know Ryouta Ishikawa… existed. I’ll be Daiki Shimazaki soon enough-- no… I am Daiki Shimazaki… She wouldn’t… Daiko-chan wouldn’t ever forgive me, I know it-- not that you would know her, but… I… Who am I kidding? You’re just a guy Ryouta Ishikawa talked to once. Giving you his whole background wouldn’t be worth it… You wouldn’t want to know it either,” he sighed. “It’s not a… I mean, i-it’s a wig. A-And… Those shades were his… They were for his gang of ‘knaves’, and… I won’t be needing them wherever I’m headed. I see a lot... better this way anyway…”

“I’m… glad you’re fine then. Ryouta Ishikawa had felt guilty about not helping you, but… he had been given something that was too immense for him… He’s… I’m sorry that it’s not the right thing to feel guilty over, but…”

Many things happened in the past few weeks. Ryouta could not deny that much. The last trial especially had been a doozy. The events that followed were considered a blur. He had expected being tossed into a frantic life due to his choice in career, but this was another level entirely.

Upon waking up, the male had remembered how difficult it had been to even think of sleeping. He raised his bandaged hand up into the air and hovered it over his face, staring dumbly at it as if he had no idea what it was. He waved it very weakly and turned it before letting it lower safely to his side again. He had tossed and turned that night, and his eyes had been wide open. No, they were still wide open.

Having let his thoughts through the night drift with the rocking of the group’s new location, he could only think of his “new future.” They were going somewhere, that much he was sure of.

The fear of meeting one person, her name rolling off his tongue oh too easily, began to set in and haunt him. Previously he wished so desperately just to see her again and seek her counsel, but now he could not bear the very idea of what she had to say to him should they ever meet once more.

After the wake up call, Ryouta rose from his position on the bed and reached for his familiar shades. Holding them in his hands, he stroke a few fingers over his creation very hesitantly, a frown finding its way onto his face.

With a quick action, the private investigator snapped the shades in half. He winced as he destroyed them. Looking at the remains in his hands, he stuffed them into his pocket and grabbed his prescription glasses instead.

…It had been a while.

Descending to the floor, he quickly took care of some business (albeit with a little difficulty). The faster he could get used to this the better.

Surveying the larger crowd of people roaming about, the raven-haired male was quick on his feet to hunt down the businessman. Reaching out to grab his shoulder, he opted out to lightly ‘knock’ on it with the back of his hand.

petty asked me to post this so i -__-

yeahhhhh i didnt follow ac1 very closely at all hahaha

i only know about these characters because i knew all the muns?? and look at how much i know anyways

Well, damn. It looked like the ama diver was going to give a little more of a fight than he had. Listening to her defense, he considered it. By itself, it was pretty sound in his mind.

…But Ryouta is a stubborn mule towards specific people, and he’s going to stick to his theory. Heck, if people were going to be backing him up— people he was not the fondest of, what reason had he to back down? None.

"…O-O-Of fuckin’ course y’ don’t like seein’ them die. Hell, the transmissions even say so. I ain’t gonna test to figure out whether or not you can type, c-cause, uh, fr-frankly, that’d be a waste of time. "An-An-An’, um… o-on the subject of musical masterminds, couldn’t yer darlin’ just be the musical one? An’ you like music cause it reminds ya’ of ‘er? It’s like why do people wear their lover’s clothing or give the second button? ‘Cause havin’ somethin’ that reminds ya’ of ‘em is romantic as hell. …Er, at least I think it does?”

Seriously pondering over what people consider romantic or not for a few moments, he shook his head and continued.

"I-I-I-I’m pretty darn sure the only letters we ought t’ be carin’ ‘bout at all are ‘A’, ‘N’, and ‘I’ since the rest is probably just ‘I love you.’ A-Also… I, uh… I don’t buy yer musical mastermind theory, though y’ make a…” He pauses, pretending to gag before resuming his rambling, “nice point ‘bout Monokoi an’ Tsusami. St-Still… Hold up, o-okay?”

He then flipped through the transmissions log and started to read it aloud (albeit a little differently).

Receiving a peck from the android was most definitely not on his list of events to expect to happen, but after everything was said and done, Ryouta stood their gawking and frozen for a few moments before his perpetually blushing face intensified to the point one might assume he was either really angry or really ill.

Shaking his head, he gave a small smile towards the other in response. Whether or not it would be noticed was another thing, but that was somewhat irrelevant now. After all, there was business to attend to.

Receiving a copy of the transmissions, a smirk crawled onto his face. Ah, now this was more down his alley. It had been ages since he was given something to investigate that was not completely centering around murder. As he skimmed through the logs, he could not held but become more at ease.

…Man, maybe he should have tried to read a romance novel or watch a romantic comedy if he was getting more intrigued by these exchanges as opposed to guts and blood.

"Th…This might seem silly, but I… I think I’ve got a pretty darn good idea of who the mastermind is if this is the genuine article," he exclaimed with much more perkiness in his voice than ever before. "Er… D-Don’t ask me why I’m going on ahead and remembering these kind of things, but put up with me for a second, will you? Pl…Please..?"

Clearing his throat, he donned his shades once more before speaking up.

"When I first entered this place, I cried. Er… actually, th-that’s kinda embarrassing, but, um… I headed over to the infirmary an’ someone followed me. She was mockin’ me— th-thanks by the way, an’ we had a small conversation. I was talkin’ ‘bout a girl back home, who… uh… let’s ignore that. A-Anyway, she mentioned she too was missin’ ‘er gal. I had assumed her lover was also back home, but… she could be the other mastermind for all I know. It was kinda vague, but all I could gather was that they were apart for some reason. Lookin’ over these files, I’m gatherin’ that this fiend was amused at the sight of pathetic people which um… I-I’m a… pretty good example of. The person I’m thinkin’ of I was able to listen to crackin’ jokes after executions which I personally didn’t care much for at the time, b-but the upbeat tone kinda… diminished if I’m recallin’ correctly. It matches up with this mystery speaker from ‘BLACK’ which I learned was us when I was usin’ the stupid machines. A-A-And, um… anyway… er…”

Bracing himself, he dove in to make his accusation no matter how wrong it might be. After all, bluffing had always worked for him before, so why not now?

"…Pleased to, uh, pleasure t’ meet ya’ ‘gain, M-M-Mastermind! Is yer name M-M-Mizushima? Tsubame Mizushima?”

"Y…Yeah. I mean, I had a feelin’ my unfinished business would remain unfinished no matter if I survived this or not, y’know? I regret it a li’l, but… for all the wrong reasons, I’d… guess. But if I didn’t want to be caught, then I wouldn’t have put my own gloves under the couch cushions, would I’ve…?"

He was able to crack a light chuckle there, as if he had been laughing with peers over a small joke or a great achievement.

Once the programmer spoke up to him, the somewhat content grin faded away from his mouth. Struggling to figure out how to word his thoughts, the private investigator was silent. He let out a heavy sigh and took off his shades. After all, if he was going to be making any additional confession true to the heart, he might as well be making it without blocking the two windows to his soul.

"Hnngh… I-I… um… I d-did it for you, Yukimura-kun," he blurted out. "I… thought you’d… you’d die right away y’know?! You’d… You’d be dead if the sea center went to shambles and got flooded out, r-right? I… I had a guess that if you died, we w-w-wouldn’t even get t’ meet in hell— n-n-not that you deserve to be there too… Y…You don’t got a soul, do ya’…?"

Avoiding mentioning the victim herself, he took another deep breath before continuing.

"I… I’m sorry… I—uh… I-I couldn’t let ya’ die while I was still standing upright on my two feet. I thought since I knew a li’l secret, I’d get ta’ play knight an’ all. I… It was nice to try an’ protect someone, y-you know…? I…"

Shutting his eyes, he brought his hand over his chest, but ensured he was not to brush the palm against anything.