#chfour

OO4 . hair theory — previous | MASTERLIST | next

Hikaru enters the staff room, looking around a bit before closing the door behind himself and moving to search through whatever he can find. 

…

Nothing. Absolutely fucking...nothing.

What did he expect? That finding a useful room would be as easy as going into the one with “Staff Only” on it?

“FUCK!”

Hikaru kicks over a chair, panting in frustration.

Nothing…

Every corner he looks in, everything he tries, it’s all for nothing. 

He’s probably going to die here, they all are. He can keep just telling himself that he’ll live, but that doesn’t make it true. He can keep begging for an escape route, but that doesn’t mean one will arise.

Losing himself in the moment, Hikaru just slumps in one of the chairs and...sobs. He’s so tired of keeping the emotions in, he’s tired of doing this...he’s tired of watching people die and pretending he’s fine. He’s tired of talking to people and then waking up the next day to them being nothing but a corpse, or a murderer.

He wants to go home. He wants to see his dads again. For once, is the story worth it? Is it worth it if no one even lives to tell the tale?

One day, he won't wake up to a corpse or a murderer. One day...

If you were to ask Yuuki what they most wanted right now, they'd have a pretty good idea. A way out, obviously. Freedom from here, ideally with a way to bring back the dead kids too, unrealistic that may be. 

Failing that, a device that would make Namiko be quiet on command would also be appreciated.

If not that? They didn't know, just give them some fucking. Video games, or something. Thankfully there truly was some divine force listening, because Yuuki got their third place wish. Better than nothing, they supposed. 

They couldn't say they cared for the setup. It was honestly kind of disgusting and. Like. Infantilizing. Was there just a cult of people who basically had Namiko as a mom? Yuuki'd said that shit as like. A joke. And the concept of that was so hilarious that they momentarily forgot how fucking terrifying that sounded. Hahaha, Jesus.

Trial days always had a habit of... wearing her out.

It wasn't really just the murders or the reminder that she, too, would soon be dead and gone -- it wasn't really even the stress of dealing with a lot of people at once -- rather, it was something more.... .... It was that drop off of adrenaline. It was the collapse that happens in the front seat after she successfully lobbies for her right to ride along shotgun with Tsuneo instead of with her mom. The feeling of needing to take a nap or rest up or eat three pizzas with the boys in a desperate effort to 'recharge' before waking up and doing it all over again.

Usually, she liked how that felt. But, well. Considering the context....

So she's up from an impromptu nap in the lounge area -- confident, at least, that no one would mess with her on the same day as a killing -- blinking the sleepies out of her eyes and looking at the ceiling for a long moment before she.... Sighs, and takes out her handbook. Checks the time, side-eyes a wall, and....

.... Maybe she should... check the stores or pretend to be interested in the Monomachine or something. It's with this resolution that she stands up from the lounge chair, still a little wobbly as she slowly makes her way over towards the dining area to cross over to the other area of the main concourse.

...Not really expecting to see others when there were so many other, better places to hang out these days, but, well--

Hikaru enters the auditorium, at this point just lumbering through each area without purpose, just trying to fill the vacant time with movement. 

72 hours...or was it 71? 70? At this point it's lost to him, what matters is that within that time someone will probably be dead again. As this sick game has unfolded, Hikaru again and again has failed to find any means of escape or helping. It’s exhausting...yet, sitting idly by has never been his style either. Perhaps that’s why he just compulsively paces the auditorium, just trying to trick his mind with faux productivity.

Hikaru enters the office, immediately enamoured with it. Unlike most other new rooms that have appeared, this one looks genuinely useful, like there is something of worth to be found. 

“Alright...give me something, would you? Could use a damn break…”

The wood shop was a strange place to have a conversation. Junko Shirokawa was a strange girl. And perhaps that was a strange way to think about someone who was (presumably) both older and taller than him. There were many, many strange things about the few, few students left here. Their fragile, ephemeral lives were passing by so very quickly. Who would be the final sacrifice? Jin had no doubts in his mind that, be it some sort of ‘noble’ self-sacrifice or merely a selfish bid to end the game at last, someone would act. It was inevitable.

People here had already killed for less.

“So, Shirokawa. What do you make of the situation now? With the new developments and all.”

Art room...a room like this doesn’t interest Hikaru at all, but there’s no harm in just searching wherever for...whatever he can find. Sometimes clues emerge in unsuspecting places, if Hikaru is lucky this might just be one of them.

…