Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[Student 17B]

In a quiet apartment, one person sat alone, lost in thought. The small room smelled faintly of turpentine and old coffee, littered with brushes, crumpled sketches, and half-finished canvases leaning against the walls. A single dim lamp cast long shadows across the floor, creating an atmosphere of solitude. But that solitude did not last long. The front door clicked open, followed by the sound of worn shoes scraping against the floorboards.

Male Voice: “Oh, Shinji. Dude. You’re back early. Got done early with that client?”

Shinji: “Not at all. Fucker canceled at the very last minute… and took back his money.”

Male Voice: “Ah, that’s rough. I knew how excited you were to try out those new paints you just bought.”

Shinji: “Doesn’t matter. His house still would’ve looked atrocious. Even with my art, I couldn’t have fixed that mess.”

Male Voice: (chuckling) “Pfft! Was it really that bad?”

Shinji: “Horrible. I’m no builder, but whoever designed that house must’ve been half-blind. Crooked beams, uneven walls, not a single piece of symmetry. It was like a monument to bad taste.”

Shinji: “Besides, it gives me more time to finish that little painting under the bridge. You know, the one I’ve been sketching for weeks.”

Male Voice: “So that’s what you’ve been drawing on your paper all this time? The weird shapes and outlines?”

Shinji: “Exactly. It’s going to stretch across the whole underside, like a secret mural only a few people will ever notice. Pretty cool, right?”

Shinji pulled out his notebook and flipped it open, revealing page after page of rough, dark sketches—fragmented faces, jagged patterns, and symbols that seemed to pulse with hidden meaning.

Male Voice: “Incredible. That’s going to look amazing under the bridge. It’s like your own hidden gallery.”

Shinji: “And here’s the best part, glow-in-the-dark paint. Imagine it lighting up at night, its gonna look awesome!”

Male Voice: “That’s genius. People walking by at midnight won’t even know what hit them. It’ll be like discovering something forbidden.”

Shinji: “That’s the point. Art isn’t meant to be polite-it’s supposed to catch you off guard.”

Male Voice: “Anyway, I’m gonna get started on dinner. Are you planning to head back to that bridge tonight?”

Shinji: (smirking) “Obviously. I can’t leave it unfinished. It’s been calling to me all day.”

Male Voice: “Alright, but be careful, man. Don’t let the cops catch you. They don’t exactly appreciate your kind of… artistry.”

Shinji: “I’ll try not to. But if they do catch me—at least they’ll know I left something worth looking at. Later.”

[The Interview: Akihiko]

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Seki: “Thank you for your patience, Mr. Akihiko.”

Seki: “I know it must have been exhausting to wait around this long. Please, feel free to take any of the refreshments in front of you.”

Shinji: (flatly) “Let. Me. Out.”

Shinji: “This is fucking kidnapping. Don’t dress it up with tea and biscuits.”

Shinji: “Let me go home.”

Seki: “I’m afraid I can’t do that. All I need is to ask you a few questions. Then, you’ll be escorted back to your room. How does that sound?”

Shinji: “…Fine. But make it quick.”

Seki: “Nice to see you cooperating.”

Seki: “Now then, please state your full name and occupation for the record.”

Shinji: (reluctantly) “…Akihiko Shinji. I’m unemployed.”

Seki: “But you earn money by spraying on walls, correct?”

Shinji: (snapping) “It’s not just spraying, you idiot! I make art. I paint on walls, streets, clients’ houses, cars-anywhere that can hold a message. What I do gives the world a bit of color. It gives people something to think about. A statement.”

Seki: “And you’re aware that what you do is illegal, aren’t you?”

Shinji: “And what you people do isn’t?”

Seki: “…Touché. Moving on. Do you have any medical conditions we should be aware of?”

Shinji: “Why the hell do you wanna know? Why do you need all this information?”

Seki: (firmly) “Please answer the question, Mr. Akihiko.”

Shinji: “…Fine. I suffer from chronic migraines. Happy?”

Seki: “Very. I’ll inform Dr. Yonekura to add you to the medical supplies list.”

Shinji: “What? Who- who the hell is Yonekura-”

Seki: “What about phobias or allergies?”

Shinji: “Dunno.”

Seki: “…I’m sorry?”

Shinji: “I don’t know. I haven’t been to the doctor much.”

Seki: “But you knew you had chronic migraines?”

Shinji: “Yeah. That was from one of the last visits I ever made. Years ago.”

Seki: “And you don’t recall any phobias?”

Shinji: “No. I’m pretty sure I don’t have any.”

Seki: “Mm. Alright. Then I only have one more question.”

Seki: “...Do you blame yourself?”

Shinji: (frowning) “…Huh?”

Shinji:“For… what exactly?”

Seki: “Do you blame yourself for [̶R̴E̶D̵A̵C̵T̵E̸D̵]̸?”

…

Shinji: (trembling) “Sh…shut up…”

Shinji: “Shut up.”

Seki: “I believe we should end the recording here. Thank you for cooperating with me today, reluctantly or not."

Shinji: “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up! Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up!"

Seki: “Argh!”

Seki: “Motherfucker! He stabbed me in the hand with his paintbrush!”

Seki: “I need a security officer and a medic in here! Now! Stat!”

Click