#melodious open

Kazuo had been sitting on his bed, contemplating what to do with his new found treasure. He was too focused on how he could end himself with his new toys to notice the plethora of screens mounted on his walls. He finally noticed when he saw the video being played in the reflection of his weapon. 

The video of Kasai’s murder made his stomach drop to his feet. His arms lost all strength, and the axe fell to the floor, creating a large gash on the side of his leg. But he didn’t feel it, all he could focus on was Kasai. Her screams, her pain, her fear. Every drop of blood that left her body was burned into his memory. Tears welled up in his eyes, eventually falling to the floor to land in the puddle of blood forming beneath him.

He didn’t move, and barely blinked during the videos, and when they’d stopped he would continue to stare blankly at the screen. Replaying the clip over and over in his mind, picking apart everything that happened, everything he could’ve done, everything he should've done. 

Zaiga knew that whatever it was that was going to be in her dorm. it wasn’t gonna be good. Stepping through the door, she saw all the screens covering the walls of her dorm. Finally, as Ms Squeaker’s announcement ended, Zaiga was just left with a sense of unease. What did Squeaks mean by “memories”? There couldn’t be a single good memory to–

The screens flickered to life, their sinister purpose revealed. On the screen she saw Amarente standing over over Kasai. As the knife was about to thrust into Kasai’s chest, Zaiga gasped in horror, and covered her eyes, but she could still hear Kasai’s screams. She tried to cover he ears, but it was impossible since she was wearing headphones. She bolted out of her room, but all the other rooms had screens in them too, all showing Kasai’s murder. Zaiga was hunched over, trying to block out the noise, tears running down her face. “G-god… make it… st-stop” She groaned, and at that moment, it did. Kasai was dead, and the video screens went dark again. 

Amarente had caught the despair fever. Her illness had affected her most acutely. Instead of being belligerent and cocky, she drew back and seemed quiet, almost fearful of those around her.

Nervously, she looked around her surroundings and hid herself from those around her. She did not pick at her arms, however, and simply refused to make eye contact with anyone around her.

“Scum of the earth…” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t be here… filthy, I wish I’d killed… I’m sorry…”

The second he had heard that one of his only two friends had been infected, he instantly looked through the building to locate her.  It took some doing, but he sighed in relief once he finally managed to track his friend down.

The last thing Tomoe could remember was some vaguely fuzzy voices and passing out at the bar. What, exactly, had been said was entirely lost considering that she had been so shitfaced and exhausted. Frankly, all she could discern was that there seemed to be some sort of importance to it, but… the lack of recollection of specifics left her more distressed trying to remember. Unbeknownst to her, the new costumes had already been handed out - probably sometime after both her and Otone’s third drinks. At least, that’s what word of snaod (sna god) is. Neither of them would have remembered it happening, judging by their Titter exchange, and certainly wouldn’t have cared to change at that time. While this, for Tomoe, is not a concern, the returning narrator is somewhat concerned that two more kids are gonna get skewered for not being in costume.

God, it really did feel like tiny ninjas were roundhouse kicking the shit out of her cranium, and she was still comfortably lying down. Feeling nauseous, guilty, and as if she’d already been enough of a nuisance as things were, the most crucial thing currently seemed to be getting rehydrated - she could probably drag herself to the kitchen for water. That's… where water comes from, right? It isn’t that far, she’s back on the first floor, somehow, and can actually see more than about a foot in front of her. Not… entirely clearly, granted, but it was vastly improved from last night when she couldn’t even stand up unsupported. Of course, the moment Tomoe actually tried to drag herself more than a couple feet out of bed she realized the magnitude of how difficult this undertaking would be solo. But, damn it, she wasn’t going to be able to just sleep this off, or honestly even return to sleep. She could do this.

Zaiga Yukimura. Alice Soyokaze. Kazuo Oshiro. Amarante Murasakino. Kasai Onanoko. Tomoe Umezawa. Otone Hibike.

these names were written on individual pieces of paper in front of him, along with each and every thing he knew about each of them, fanned in front of him in a semi circle pattern from were he was sitting down. One of these people was a liar, a traitor, a murderer. But who?

after a few seconds, he started to add some data he remembered vaguely from newspapers and news reports he had been half paying attention to. Who among these seven would be willing to assist in something like this?

Kazuo felt numb. Losing your second lover and being unable to see if the only person you have left is ok was emotionally tiring. In fact he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel anymore, was he supposed to be angry? sad? should he be crying? Part of him wanted someone to tell him how to feel. Or did he even care anymore?

Kazuo stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Jesus he looked like a wreck. If anything this was the worst he’d ever looked. His face was fine but his arm still had dried blood from the trial earlier. His shirt was rippedNot to mention how messy his hair was. 

‘Being the good guy only brings pain Kazuo. It’s not as if you can save anyone like this. It only hurts if you care. Just let go.’ Kazuo was surprised, he thought that he’d already taken care of these thoughts. The idea was… tempting. But he was afraid, if he wasn’t the good guy wouldn’t he be the villain? That was the last thing he wanted.

Kazuo shook his head, he could feel a migraine coming on. The thoughts were really taking a toll on him. It didn’t help that he’d spent all of the time since the trial nyooming searching the school for Kasai instead of resting. He decided it would be better to distract himself for now, he wouldn’t be able to make her get better any faster by running around. She’d come back soon… right?

He took one last glance at Kasai’s bed before leaving. Instead he saw matches that he’d thrown in frustration earlier that morning. Disappointed, he shoved them in his back pocket and slammed the door behind him. If only looking at her bed would bring her back.

His posture was visibly lax as he entered the New York bar. Kazuo didn’t pay attention to anyone that could have already been seated in the area and swung behind the bar to grab the first bottle of vodka he could find. Alcohol wasn’t something he’d tried before, but he knew people drank to forget. He plopped himself onto a barstool and opened the bottle, the smell hitting him instantly. He scrunched his face and started pouring it into a cup. 

It all sickened him, but the drum major knew nothing was to be done. Nothing could be altered. A heart kindled aflame, but a spirit fading. Four lives lost in a single night, and a new floor discovered. It seemed for every death, a new world was opened up to them.

Alice had stopped going to the music room after the second trial. The only times he went were to grab items or add onto the memorial area he made for the fallen students. As he sat on his knees and adjusted some of the items, a certain necklace jingled from his neck. 

That necklace being in the form of a treble clef.

It was the necklace Kaiya had spoken about in the recording. Alice had immediately went to the bodyguard’s room to retrieve it. To answer the nagging question you might have right now Fwumps (and Kaiya’s spirit), yes, the drum major still has the friendship bracelets.

Alice then moved to the new floor. The first place he decided to take a peek in was the out-of-place door. He opened up the door, and jumped back when he immediately noticed the dark atmosphere. Closing the door, he stood stunned, before deeply inhaling and softly exhaling. Slowly removing his grip from the door knob, he continued his way.

He eventually wound up in the Congress room. Though it was pretty bland, everything about it was much more…calm. He observed the room, every nook and cranny, one hand tightly gripping the other out of distress.

If I could guarantee the safety of everyone…If I could risk everything I have to ensure it never happens again…

His process of thinking abruptly stopped when the sound of his own heartbeat snapped him back. He blinked rapidly, looking around the silent room once more. To cease the silence, he gently stomps his foot and cracks his knuckles.