#ch2 drdd

Well, Harumi was dead, and all Hiroshi felt was exhausted. Watching the execution, he did his best to stifle a yawn, even as the poor girl was killed before his eyes.

He supposed he cared a little. They’d hung out together a little, had spoken a few times, had investigated together. And he sure as hell cared about that piece of paper he’d ripped up the afternoon he’d gotten it. If Harumi hadn’t done what she did, Hiroshi supposed it would have been him up there, being accused of murder. Not that he would have made such blatant errors.

But did he really care? Did he really care that Harumi Cho was dead, that her parents were dead, that Stella Ethereal was dead? All to keep his secret?

...Not really.

There was no grief, no fear, no shock, no anger. Hiroshi’s heart was just flat. Nothing going on. The most important thing on his mind was getting sleep, and tomorrow morning’s workout. He didn’t really care about all of that death. Because really, life is cheap. People die all the time. Some just die sooner than others. Some just make mistakes, and it gets them killed.

“Thanks, Cho-chan,” he muttered all the same. She had died to protect his secret, hadn’t she?

He left the courtroom, reflecting on the trial, reflecting on the mistakes made, the strategies employed to corner and trap the court’s prey. Knowing where those failings lay could be the difference between life and death, someday.

After the impromptu bedroom tour, Hiroshi decided to move his investigation outside. Or at least, the bad facsimile on investigating. He wasn’t actually doing much. For the last little bit he’d just hung around, lazily searching things and yawning frequently. Didn’t seem terribly engaged.

Anyway, once the last person was cleared out of his room he locked up again and then headed outside. Not in any rush, mind you, the others were doing a great job. He left the high rise and then turned right instead of left, away from the baths and other places people seemed to be drawn to.

Instead, he made his way to the shrine. It was quiet, serene even, in the inky night. How boring. Just a pile of wood, and for what? Well, whatever, some people found it to be important, he supposed.

He wasn’t here for prayer or reverence or whatever it was people did at shrines. He entered the little building and took a look around, searching behind and around everything in there. He had to use his ID card for illumination in the furthest corners of the place.

He kept thinking about that stupid paper and about that stupid paper and how much it got to him. Hiroshi hated the fact that Monobear was pushing the right buttons; hated the fact that, despite all his smiles and charms, he could feel that anger and anxiety crawling inside him, like some twisted little creature clamped around his shrivelled heart. And it was getting to the point that he wanted to claw his ribs open and-

He had made his resolve and knew he could finish it and get away, and that it’d kill the despair forming in his chest, kill it dead as he walked away from this island and into the sun.

But then he heard a scream. A shriek of terror and grief that dashed the anxiety to pieces and made his heart alight. He drank in the screams like the sweetest of melodies because he knew what it meant. It meant his little paper secret was safe.

He took a breath to steady the rush in his head and then headed up toward the source of the music. And there, with mourners already surrounding her, was the corpse of Stella Ethereal. With her died Monobear’s threats.

“Shit...” he breathed, “Not- not this...” He stepped back, as if appalled by the sight of the blood. To anyone who even bothered to notice him he seemed like the rest of them - shocked, sad, afraid.

Total bullshit.

Hiroshi opened the letter, not actually sure what to expect. He knew that Monobear had some sort of insight into their lives - it had managed to threaten people who weren’t even involved here - but how much could its operator really know? He laughed to himself, certain that this little incentive would be just as droll as the last one.

Weight casually on one foot, completely unconcerned expression, body language totally at ease, he flipped open the envelope and pulled out the paper. And his expression froze in place. Body went rigid.

Shit. Shit.

How- how could it know this? Was this a threat!? He felt a stab of ice jam its way between his ribs and he could hardly breathe for a moment let alone think. Everything ground to a halt.

And then the moment passed and he realised his fingers had been shredding the paper without him even noticing. It was reduced to a pile of confetti in moments and was already blowing away in the breeze, but its words were etched into his vision.

He found himself laughing. “Eheh... ehehehe...” Just what did that bear think it was doing...? Threatening Hiroshi fucking Okada? Why, it must have a death wish! Its little operator could hide behind that little bear and feel good about screwing with them all, but when Hiroshi found the operator... It was personal now.

[♫♫♫]

After all of the recent excitement, Hiroshi was having himself a nice, slow morning. He woke up early as ever, feeling good and rested for the first time since arriving on this pit of an island. It was early enough that the light was only just shining up over the horizon, and the air was still cool.

Had anyone else been awake, they would have seen him in the apartment lobby, stretching to wake himself up before he set off for a jog around the island, a little tough with how damaged many of the pathways were, but that just made it more of a challenge, really. He made a few full laps before he decided that everything was awake now. 

He ran, worked his body for well over an hour, and the sky was lightening rapidly. Soon, others would be awake too, and he’d no longer have the entire island to himself. Hiroshi was learning to treasure these early morning jogs. He could never make the island itself go away, but without all of the others around him panicking, he could at least pretend that things were okay. Or, at least, that he didn’t have to deal with Monobear’s bullshit.

He cooled off, through a routine of stretches and exercises, and then hit the baths to wash the sleep and sweat from his body. He lingered there, soaking in the heat, relaxing body and soul. He had to prepare himself for another day of smiling and laughing through the anxiety and paranoia otherwise surrounding him. Utterly exhausting, dealing with all of that drivel. He sank a little further into the bath. He was in no hurry.

Minutes upon minutes ticked by. Well, he may as well get on with it. After a while, he towelled off, blow-dried his hair, and spent a few minutes examining his own face for any flaws that could mar it today. Nothing major. He exhaled in- relief? Something like that. He couldn’t go out there with an imperfect face.

Minutes later he was in the Saltspray Café, fixing himself breakfast. It was still early, most people were asleep or otherwise dragging their arses, but Hiroshi noted that at least one other person had escaped their blankets. He invited himself over to their table, placing down a light breakfast of rice, fruit, and juice to drink.