[Day 15, night: Erika - HERE THERE BE MURDER]

[purrtagonist]

[he had made a promise. and he supposes, technically? he's keeping it, by waiting for Erika just outside the dormitory wing, one arm slung around a crutch into which he leans, since he still can't put pressure on his injured leg]

[technically he's keeping it, sure. but functionally? he's very much aware that what happens tonight is going to be anything but an upstanding young man making good on his promises]

[there is a bit of tension in his stance, evident from the way he taps his fingers against his waist, subconsciously tracing the outline of the knife he can feel tucked in the back of his pants. he's never done this before-- never wanted to do this in the first place. but when Erika arrives, he pushes that tension aside so he appears perfectly normal]

Are you late, or am I just early?

[. . . it's fine. compose yourself, Kurusu. you've made your choice. you're going to have to live with its consequences]

Comments

[very_good_end]

My pride is at stake. That, and it's already obvious that he is. But I would prefer to have the confession from your lips as well. Of course... it goes without saying.

[giggles again, though it's more nervous, more strained]

Oh, I'll return the favor in advance, Kurusu-san. I'm aware of just why Akechi-san torched the library. The first library, that is.

You told him how things went in your shared world... without him in it. As if he never existed. And, this made Akechi-san upset to an extreme.

[purrtagonist]

[. . . . . . . . . .]

You're close.

[. . . sorry, Akechi. he won't be divulging any big secrets, but he feels like he owes her something. something more than just what will probably be a painful death, because he doesn't know how to make it not painful]

But any further details than that will have to come from Akechi himself. As I've maintained from day one-- his secrets aren't mine to tell.

[very_good_end]

Yes. Do you want to know my source? My source was Kurosaki Ichigo... and he followed that up by telling me not to share that with anyone else. [snickers] Of course, Kurosaki-san has done nothing but get on my nerves since then, so fuck him. [dismissively]

You're quite wrong, Kurusu-san. All secrets are for the detective to reveal... eventually.

...Ah, but how bad this would look. Great Detective Furudo Erika, betrayed by two assistants. One doing so their very first night together... Incidentally, I'm still willing to think Kurusu-san has simply mistaken me for a turnip for a brief moment of insanity. It would be a great detriment to my pride to say otherwise, after all.

[...]

C'mon, Kurusu-san. Let me down.

You don't have the guts.

[purrtagonist]

[her words cut through him deeply, particularly when she reminds him that this whole scenario is one huge betrayal. there's so much he could say. so much he should say. so much he should do, other than this. his hand is still shaking]

[he speaks, his words dull and empty, like he's reciting something from memory]

. . . the complete revival of everyone who dies in this game. The ability to save everyone. To send them home, alive and safe, at the very end.

That's my motive.

[and for that? he'll fucking force himself to have the guts. because he doesn't think anyone in else in this school could]






[he bears down on the knife as hard as he can, the blade finally biting into her skin, tearing through tendons and arteries and-- more importantly-- her jugular vein. he draws it across her entire throat, yanking the knife aside once he reaches the end, ignoring how the movement causes a few drops of blood to spatter on the wall next to them]

[it's not going to be pleasant. he doesn't know how to make this quick]

1/2

[very_good_end]

--Acgk!

[There's a fierce spray of blood as he hits an artery, and a fierce cry of surprise as he does it...

All strength she was showing keeping herself upright disappears and she collapses, smashing her face to the floor.]

...

[As she bleeds out, there is indeed gurgling... a lot of it, simultaneously dying of blood loss and choking, her appendages trying to move but just... not having that ability anymore.]

[very_good_end]

[Soon her dress and the surroundings are stained red from the increasingly large pool of blood.]

[Her eyes watch him throughout as she dies.]

[Not with a scathing, mocking grimace, but a surprised, and very sad face.]









[her bag is still there, dropped to the side]

1/2

[purrtagonist]

Fuck--!

[. . . he did it]

[truthfully? there's about as much surprise in his expression when she falls to the ground, like he also can't believe he actually went through with this. he had intended to catch her-- he really had, he wanted to make this comfortable for her, he didn't want her to suffer, because god damn it Erika didn't deserve to suffer. in an instant, he's crouched at her side, the knife dropped and clattering on the ground next to his feet, his hand reaching for her shoulder, fingers trembling]

Shit shit shit, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so--

[that last word catches in his throat, a strangled noise when he catches that expression. that surprise, that flicker of sadness. the look of someone stabbed in the back]

[a look that he caused. a look that is entirely his fault]

[purrtagonist]

[. . .]

[he forces himself to watch her the entire time. he resists the urge to look away, because he deserves this. she deserves this. she deserves to soak up every ounce of guilt in his expression, every labored breath as he tries to hold back the urge to cry (he doesn't deserve to cry, not now, not over this, this was his doing). she deserves to watch him crumble and crack and fall to pieces, because in the end, he did have enough guts. and she was the victim of that fact]

[it isn't until she takes her last gurgled breath that he finally pulls his hand away from her shoulder. his pants are soaked in blood (her blood), but he just can't bring himself to care. shakily, every single limb in his body trembling, he turns her still warm body onto its back. he arranges her hands on her stomach, and gently slips her eyes closed]

[. . . he claps his own palms together, head bowed, shoulders hunched, and recites a stammered prayer]

[and when that's all said and done? he slumps against the aquarium wall, digs his palms into his eyes, and lets out a choked sob]