♡ Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. You’re going to die. You want to cry. You want to wail and jump out the window. You’ve lots of qualms about the dorm placement too. You? Pomefiore? You couldn’t have gotten it any worse.  You and the mere mention of Pomefiore does not mix. Never has, never will. Come to think of it, had said dorm even expressed grief over the death of the first victim? There wasn’t any mention of them after their purpose was served, which is to say, their purpose: die. That’s all you’re here for. Without your death, you serve no purpose. Without your death, there is no plot. You’re going to die. That is final. Unchanging, even.

Opening your lids once more, feeling the sting of salt-born dampness that has yet to spill freely, you take a clear look at your surroundings. The brightness takes you by surprise, and your vision is spotty- but soon enough, you realize one thing.

You’re in a detention room.

Well, that was.. expected. 

♡ Funny enough, you don’t understand why there’s even one here. Plot convenience, you suppose.

 ♡ The next thing you feel is the warmth of the sun on the bare of your skin, the one thing grounding you to this place- unspooling over you like a shroud. Furnished with rows of desks and chairs, detention fits the quintessential type you’d find in any wacky slasher movie, with motivational posters ejected out onto walls and a large grandfather clock staring all of your peers down. The window overlooks Night Raven’s verdant field below, with some students relishing in their freedom. This is supposed to be your deathbed, and as per your fate, you watch the clock’s black arcs slicing the afternoon into agonizingly slow increments.

♡ A couple of candles sputter, and your purse sits on your desk. There's a cute little lip balm in it, a bunch of cosmetics, and things you don’t even know about. Isn't that justtt peachy?

♡ It’s a visual reminder that while time is moving, it was in no hurry at all. You still have some time left. You don’t how much, you only know one thing. You don’t want to die. You can’t die. You don’t want to go out so brutally, so horribly, so hopelessly. This is not how you imagined it.

“Dude, I don’t even understand why they put me in here with these guys.” Grumbles a familiar voice. “ ‘S not like this is the first time the cafeteria’s seen a food fight.”

“You threw an entire tray at the headmage’s face.”

“That was an accident, okay? Sure, the tea may have been hot, but I seriously doubt it got past his feathers. Sue me.”

♡ Ace Trappola sits not far from you! He’s the closest, in fact. You remember why he’s in here, guilty as charged, the headmage snapped after his third food fight. He’s chatting Yuu’s ear off — you realize you have no idea as to why they’re here — (it was never expressed clearly in the game, then again, you didn’t make it past the remainder of the storyline) — with his leg propped up on his table and his arms folded behind his head. Yuu sits on that same table, from the sight alone, anyone’d know they’re quite close. It’s the same reason Ace had survived alongside Yuu. 

 ♡ The rest are far from you, though you doubt anything could elude Rook Hunt’s ears, your Vice Housewarden. Found hiding in the rafters of another dorm. You remember when you’d died, he’d been the first to act, propping you up and taking charge just to save you a brutal end. Comforted you in his own way- though you seriously do not want to think about that right now. He’s staring out a window, typical. Speaking of typical, Azul is the farthest, having been exposed by virtue of his unauthorized business activity. He does not deign anyone a glance, resolving to write down.. something onto the pieces of paper everyone has on their desks. 

♡ The loudest one is Sebek, even when he’s far away, you can hear his voice like he’s yelling into your ear.

You nearly face-palm. 

♡ Ugh! When playing the game initially, you did not think of how horrible this team actually was. They were the worst match, and always managed to get caught up in deep waters, the kind whose sheer amount of stupidity you’d yell at. You were playing as Yuu then, so you didn’t fret over things like that, but the events have taken a drastic turn now, and you’re at one of the biggest disadvantages in the history of mankind... You're not playing this game from Yuu’s perspective anymore— you’re not guaranteed survival, you’re guaranteed death, and the clock’s still ticking.

♡ You mull it over for a second. How did the first victim even die? You remember this character... had taken a sip of some tea, traditional Pomefiore style, and had suffered a reaction. It hadn’t been described what type. A seizure? Something else? The staff only ascertained one truth: it had clearly been tampered with, and off they went. But who handed them the tea? No, there’s a little teacup set positioned in one of the corners, maybe having been left by its earlier residents - your character had taken the tea themselves. But if it was tampered with.. it was surely meant for the first victim. Ugh! One of the major cons of this is that you don’t know shit about this Pomefiore person, except that they’re..

♡ .. Not all that relevant? You’re going to be a goner at this rate. Miraculously enough, the first victim had survived the ordeal, but then had been subsequently murdered in the Nurse’s Office. You remember the art, a brutish display of crimson and bone-deep gashes, but flick the thought away amid the constriction of your throat. Your heart is beating, erratically, voraciously, helplessly.

A chair scrapes.

“You have remained unusually silent today.”

You blink, a slow realization creeping upon you. You stare into the eyes of your Vice Housewarden, who stares back with his signature, elusive smile. The light limns the countours of his face as he takes his seat, unsolicited, opposite you, chin perched upon his gloved hands.

“You would ordinarily have offered at least three  remarks regarding their appearances by now. My, it appears you've forgotten your daily critique.” Delighted, he closes his eyes and professes. You don’t know what to do, so you gulp down the water amassing in your eyes and give him an equally watery smile. He seems surprised. “..How moving! I knew today's sunlight felt particularly transformative!”

♡ Why did he..? Oh, wait! What did he say? You’d have ordinarily offered three remarks regarding their appearance. That’s right. That’s one of your character’s innate qualities.

♡ They were mean. Not overtly so, but in the ways you could feel it. Self-conceited, two-faced, if you will. Anyone could dislike them, and anyone could want to dispose of them-  it’s no surprise they died the way they died but.. this is a slasher game, isn’t it? If the first victim’s death came with the price of several others being ticked off, then it wasn’t merely a revenge kill, was it? 

Whatever. You don’t why you’re worrying about this. 

Zhongli pretended he didn't mind it—but your lack of attention did slightly bother him cup of Osmanthus wine close to his lips and eyes glancing at Diluc's glare, though he couldn't blame the man for being envious at this moment.

"Lyney do a magic trick and give us cryo visions," Gaming proposed, head slamming against the round table.

Said magician sighed. "It pains me to say it, but it won't work." His shoulders slumped, fingers twirling his cards while he longingly looked in your direction.

"Well, There's surely a solution alchemy can giv—" Albedo begun before getting abruptly cut off by Varka's booming laugh.

"Hah! C'mon it's not that serious, she'll come back sooner than y'all can even say 'dandelion wine'." He reasoned, eyes going over everyone around the table before staring back at his now emptied glass of dandelion wine. Of course, it was easy for him to talk since you weren't avoiding him—stupid anemo vision.

Itto sighed. "Man, don't think 'm gonna last any longer like this." While eyeing Kazuha and Heizou discuss next to you—how he wished he could be there instead. "Some men are drowning while others are thirsty." He looked up at the sky in despair. "Why did I have to get a geo vision! Archons!"

Clearing his throat, said Archon looked away.

Well, that 'dandelion wine' sure got said multiples times by Venti and still no sign of your return was seen.

It's fine, they'll wait until winter—then we'll see if a cryo vision really is usefull during snowstorms.

Idk the thoughts of them fighting because of a weather they can't control seems pretty funny, give Itto five mins before he gives up and heat you even more.

And you wandered the halls. No paperwork, no one to hangout with, you just wandered. Until you happened upon Price's office.

The door was ajar just enough that you could see the burly British man and his giant counterpart, Ghost. They always hung out together. You weren't sure what it was. They talked amongst each other, until Ghost stopped. Your heart skipped a beat when he swiveled his chair, lightless eyes staring at you.

"Sergeant."

You swallowed, hell he was creepy. His eyes staring into you, his figure unmoving, his body unprovoked. He was creepy as all shite in the dark, even more so than in the light.

"Where're the others? 'expected you to be with them."

You shrugged and slipped into the room, and when they didn't push you out, you felt relaxed.

"No, spin the bottle, sir. Told them I'd rather not participate."

"Mm, they can get rowdy." Ghost muttered, reaching for his glass of whiskey at the end of the desk. Finally, he moved. "Yeah, I guess I'd rather not do that right now."

"They let off their steam on each other," Price said, taking another drag. "We all do from time to time."

You looked between the men. Ghost's legs were spread apart in the chair, an awkward position for the big man. But the crease in his pants seemed even more uncomfortable. Then you understood.

"Oh." Would your superior officers fraternize like that? Is that why Kyle and Soap got off so easy? Because the other two didn't care.

"Am I intruding??" Your voice raised slightly. And even under the mask you could feel Ghost's lips peel into a little grin through the way his gaze fixed on you.

"No, you're right in time, sergeant." Price moved his chair back and patted his lap. "We won't play spin the bottle, but we can show you what the big men do for fun 'round here."

Your stomach exploded with butterflies. You were glad you skipped out on spin the bottle. Instead of stolen kisses and giggles, you got split open, praised, and treated to the warm welcome you deserved.

All in team spirit naturally.