Their heart is thumping with adrenaline. With feelings they can’t quite understand nor put into words settling into their heart, their steps are almost careless. Kou walks over to the diamond and accepts their fate. There’s nothing more to do, after all, nothing left to say. They’ve never been one for flights of fancy. Maybe that’s why they couldn’t lie if they tried. No excuse would ever have any imagination nor believability to it. The elevator goes down and takes Kou away to their demise. Their mother, if she was still out there, would never see her child again.
You have no choice but to accept that they’re gone.
For a moment, you can’t see anything. The dim orange lights barely illuminate anything and would make anyone feel at least a little claustrophobic. Within the dancing lights, you can spot gravel-y walls and long wooden floorboards, a web of narrow passage-ways. Kou’s face comes into view, no real expression on their face. If they’re supposed to be scared, it doesn’t show. They just get to their feet, placing a hand on the wall for support and begin to walk.
Walk... where?
Forward, they suppose. There’s nowhere else to go. Their senses feel trapped in this place, with so few sounds, in this much gloom.
Long black kanji strokes are painted onto the walls, a fact that becomes clearer as Kou moves. The light seems to move with them. Those characters all read as emotions.
Happiness.
Sadness.
Regret.
Anger.
Fear.
All the things Kou Tsukino never understood.
As they walk past the character of anger, they feel a burning sensation on their skin and they freeze, confused. On their wrist, the character begins to write itself there, burning itself into place. They wince at the pain, blood surging out of the fresh marking. They continue on, undeterred. With each character they pass, yet another tattoo is burned into their skin. It’s a stupid time to feel, but feel things they do. The regret from killing Ayaka. The worry they might never see home again. The odd sort of happiness that comes from finally understanding. And...
The fear that their time might be up for good.
Mark affter mark, burned into place. On their fingers, on their legs, around the neck and all over their face. The pain brings tears to their eyes as blood pours out of every fresh tattoo. Their footsteps become dizzy and their vision blurred as they walk down endlessly narrow corridors, each one looking like the last, their mind buzzing.
Just up ahead, finally, there’s something different up ahead. A figure, clad in a snow-white kimono, wrapped in a purple robe. They open their arms, beckoning them into their safe arms.
What... is this... feeling? Relief? Warmth?
Kou stumbles towards the figure, their head light from blood loss and crumple to their knees before they can make it. The figure approaches, their sandals echoing through the corridor as they wrap their arms round the wounded child. They pull them into a hug.
Their skin is clearly fake, cold like plastic. And yet, there’s a sense of familiarity in this hug. A sense of home. Kou’s eyes gently close... and then shoot wide open when a new sensation takes over their aching body. A cold pain, right in the back.
They shakily turn their head back to try and piece it together and the pain hits them again. Blood, pouring onto the floor. Oh... that was it. They were being stabbed. Stabbed in the back. They try to form some words but it only comes out a sharp gasp.
Pain.
It’s real pain.
Their fingers clench into fists as they look down at a pool of their own blood. So many expressions you’ve never seen on their face before. Tears pour down their tired face, marred with scruffy tattoos. They fall to the ground, blood splattering all over their face.
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Like Ji-hyun before them, Kaizou Anzai has little choice but to step into the diamond and await their fate. They may have a vague idea of what’s about to happen but nothing can really prepare them for what will. That uncertainty is killing them before anything else does. Should they try to smile? Should they be brave?
Their mind runs through a million thoughts before they’re taken away...
CULPRIT: KAIZOU ANZAI, SHSL FASHION DESIGNER.  [♫♫]
A world appears in front of you... a school folding open in front of you, like origami, until it finally becomes a real location. And within that real location, is Kaizou Anzai, dropped into place, looking more than a little confused. Papers surround their feet, as do a handful of other stationery products, paper clips, pencils and stickers, making the whole location, the dull school cafeteria almost exciting.
However Kaizou isn’t alone for long.
Drops of red and blue come from the ceiling and hit the ground, turning into shapes, people. Students. They approach Kaizou and even without faces, Kaizou can feel their leering grins and awful remarks. Just like before. They point their fingers and they talk nonsense... people who don’t understand. People who live to hurt. They back up and away, into a wall and find that they’re in a predicament. Going anywhere would mean cutting through those... things. Thinking quickly, Kaizou takes a piece of paper and a pencil and sketches something out -- an outfit. The outfit comes to life and wraps itself around them in a sequence akin to a magical girl’s transformation. Decked out in epaulettes, a cape and glittery purple, a confident smile somehow manages its way onto their face and they begin blasting at the red and blue figures with some kind of dark magic. They fall, one by one, bleeding much like a real person but Kaizou doesn’t care; this means freedom.
Maybe they can do what Ji-hyun couldn’t.
Escape.
Can they really live with what they’ve done? ... They don’t know. But it’s too hard to just die. Even if they want to die and answers for their sins, it’s not that easy, not that simple in practice.
They stumble into the corridor, huffing, looking for an escape anywhere, shooting figures when and where they can. But it’s getting harder. Suddenly it’s getting harder to move, harder to breathe. It takes Kaizou a little too long to realize what’s happening. The clothing that had protected them was wrapping itself a little too tightly around them. Their skin was growing blue, purple in places, cutting off feeling. They stumbled forward, desparate to continue on. But they’re weakening fast. The cape sneaks around their legs, around their stomach and around their throat and it tightens fast. Even the gloves tighten and choke them. The material gets so tight it begins to cut through skin and blood pours down their body.
The figures keep approaching, and even with their breath running out, they desparately try to keep them away. Eventually though, the dream dies and there’s no magic to be had from their fingertips. They choke and land on their bruised, swelling knees, desperate for respite. But it never gets looser. It constricts and it takes and it cuts until....
There’s nothing left of Kaizou Anzai to take.
And they fall to the ground, blood dripping from their mouth, unquestionably dead.
