Chapter Text
"Ishikawa."
It's too bright.
"Ishikawa, you need to get up."
Too cold.
A hand grabs my arm and pulls me roughly to my feet. I don't know how I stay standing, not without skates. "I'm going to be sick," I mutter, unsure if it's actually true. I want to look away from her. I can't. So pale…
The hand makes me turn away. ...I can't leave her! No. "Let go," I protest, but my words lack conviction. Lack meaning.
I'm over by the seats now, somehow. I can't see her anymore. The plastic seats are too hard, not comfortable. Someone says something; I can't make it out. Something small and soft is laid over my shoulders. I stare down at the floor. My knees are dripping with sticky, thick blood. Not mine. Hers.
"Get her out of here. We have an investigation to do." No, don't make me leave. I don't want to leave her here.
A gentler hand than the one before coaxes me up. I'm going to fall over if I take another step, so I don't. Against the pressure of the hand, I sit back down.
"Get her out," the voice repeats, like this is an emergency room and I'm trying to be at someone's side. Isn't that essentially what this is? But this time, there's no shred of hope at all.
Someone else cuts in. "Leave her be. She just lost her best friend. Show some sympathy."
Best friend…
I was going to go to one of her competitions.
"Ishikawa, I need you to look at me." It's hard. I lift my head. "Can you tell me who I am?"
"Ikeda." My voice doesn't, can't, raise above a whisper. "She's gone."
He takes a second to breathe and glances over his shoulder. I don't know who he's trying to look at. "I need you to concentrate and speak in Japanese or English, okay? None of us know Spanish."
Am I speaking Spanish? I bite my lip so hard that I taste the barest hint of blood. Mine. Not hers. "She's...gone."
Regret is the most prominent thing in his eyes as he nods. I probably sound foolish, stating the obvious like that. "You know we need to find out who killed her. Do you want to investigate?"
Do I? I don't have a voice. I speak through my actions and stand slowly. "I have your Monokuma File," Oshiro says from my side. She's slightly less perky than usual. I shouldn't have expected anything else. I must've missed Monokuma's entrance and subsequent exit while I was out of it. I study Oshiro for a second. Something about her looks different. It takes me a moment to realize that her jacket isn't- oh. That's what's on me. I tug her jacket off and trade it for the file. Just like before, it opens easily.
The victim is Ueda Miyuki, Super High-School Level Figure Skater. The body was first discovered in the skating rink on the second floor at 7:48 in the morning. The cause of death is hypothermia, though other injuries are noted, including deep cuts to both thighs. That ends the file's description, shorter than the last.
Who would do this to her?
I don't go back to the ice right away. I keep staring at the file for a good few minutes, even after Oshiro and Ikeda leave my side, trying to find what I need to answer that question. Look at me. Everyone else is at least trying to investigate, and I can't do anything but sit here.
"Did you notice that the file doesn't list the time of death?" I overhear Fujimoto ask Nakamura as they put on skates. Of course. They need those to conduct the investigation. It was foolish of me to go on the ice without them. "How are we supposed to collect alibis?"
"Figure out who saw her last. That'll establish a frame of reference," Abe interrupts from the rink. His voice is as cold as the air in here. He and Saito are looking after the crime scene, I guess. I can't look at him. Not now. Not when he was- I can't say it.
I feel like I'm in a trance as I move to the wall by the locker rooms and grab the skates I used two days ago. I can't help in the trial if I don't collect any evidence. The laces pull tight, just like she taught me. It comes to mind suddenly that all of the skates are the perfect sizes for everyone here, like it was anticipated. The thought clears as I stand, bracing myself. I'm especially shaky, even off the ice, but I can at least keep myself upright.
Still, it takes me a moment to get over to that part of the rink, weaving between everyone. I stay on my feet, shuffling them to keep my balance. I look down at her face, turned to the side since she's on her stomach. Her arm is blocking it slightly, but I can tell that her eyes are closed. I don't know if someone else did that or if they were already like that. I can't remember. Her glasses are cracked badly on the side of her face resting on the ice. They must've broken sometime before her death. I...really hate that I have to see her like this. It isn't right.
She must not have had a chance to change this morning. She's still in her usual shirt and skater skirt, and her hair is only loosely pulled back, like she was in a rush. Nothing like its usual neatness. How quickly did this happen? I just don't get it. Something like this doesn't just happen.
I carefully lower myself to my knees again so I can get a closer look. The edge of the pool of blood barely touches my knees again, staining them a bit. Even though I was this close to her earlier, this time I need to commit every detail to memory.
There's nothing else around her head that I didn't already see. There aren't any bruises or cuts around her face, but her lips are tinged blue. I wouldn't expect anything less than that from hypothermia.
Nothing's wrong with her torso, either. No blood, no broken bones, I think. But her chest doesn't rise and fall with signs of life. Her fingertips are blue as well, unsettling. On a hunch, I pick up her hand, cold from laying on the ice. There's nothing under her fingernails, not like I've seen on crime shows before. I set her hand down gently, remembering when it was warm, and move on.
I can just barely see the edge of a slice through each of her thighs, cutting right through her leggings. That's where all of the blood came from, I guess. I can't tell how deep they are when she's on her stomach, but there's so much blood. They must be deep, right? I'm not trained to know exactly how deep. None of us are, and Monokuma didn't provide that evidence, so we won't be able to find out.
Of course, she's not wearing skates. I wouldn't expect her to be; she's clearly not fully ready to be on the ice. She's not wearing shoes, either, just thin socks that definitely did not protect her feet from the cold. She must've been getting ready, otherwise she would've had her shoes on.
I shift back a little bit away from her body, looking around her. The blood surrounding her lower half is only partially dried, soaking her leggings and her skirt. It's kind of smeared more towards the wall she's facing. The smears look like tracks, but I can't be sure, not until I look closer and see the barest of bloodstains on the low wall. They don't rise very far, less than a foot, but they're obviously from her. Where else could they have come from?
I shake my head and stand back up, turning slowly and skating to the exit. "I'm going to check the locker room," I say to no one in particular. I can't get the skates off fast enough, though I struggle a little with the laces. Every moment I spend in here is a moment I'm wasting and should be using to look for evidence. The air around be turns frigid, making me shiver. I need to get out.
The locker rooms still need us to swipe our e-Handbooks. I'm glad I didn't drop mine anywhere. I glance around quickly. Everything seems to be normal here, and she was killed out in the rink, so there couldn't be much here anyway. Still, I know I need to take a look around. Leave no stone left unturned and all that.
Her bag is on the bench, the zipper open slightly. I go to open it fully before pausing. Does this count as an intrusion of her privacy? I push the thought aside quickly and murmur an apology. Finding evidence is more important at the moment.
I rifle through a bit, taking things out and mentally cataloging them. There's her practice clothes, neatly folded, her e-Handbook, an unopened bottle of water, a couple of CDs, and her contacts in their case. No evidence here at all. I put everything back in her bag just like I found it, zipping it shut again.
I sigh and sit on the bench next to her bag, holding my head in my hands. This situation is just so hopeless. I sit there for a while, staring at the floor. It seems to distort under me, a small red splotch appearing before my eyes. I check my knees; the blood on them isn't dripping anywhere other than down my legs. It must not be new.
I crouch down to look at it, careful not to get any more blood on the floor. It's barely there, and kind of blurred, like it was scrubbed at. For all I know, it could've been here before this happened. We were all so interested in what was beyond the doors, I don't think anyone noticed what was on the floor. Miyuki spent so much time in here, maybe she noticed, but it's impossible to tell.
I sit back on my heels, adjusting my skirt in case anyone comes in. I scan the area around the blood spot; there's no others. So either it's nothing, or the others were scrubbed away completely.
Okay. I need to think seriously about this for a moment. This is in the girls' locker room. Miyuki couldn't have walked with cuts like that, no way, and she would've been bleeding too much to not leave a noticeable trail. So whoever did this must be a girl. That's what this means, right? There's blood in here, at least, I think, and nobody but girls have access to this room.
Before I can ponder it more, the locker room door slams open, almost making me fall onto my butt. Yoshida rushes past with a red face and wet eyes; Sasaki follows close behind. By the time I'm standing, wondering what's happening, they're already gone. Someone out in the rink probably knows what that was about.
I look at Miyuki's bag again. I'm not sure if I should stay and look longer in here, maybe see if I can find anything else. I doubt there is anything in here, so I could always go back and see if there's more in the rink. I don't know how much time we have to investigate, or how much time has already lapsed. I realize quickly that I don't really know much of anything. Do any of us?
I take a deep, deep breath before I push the door open. I can't see her from here, which for now is a good thing. More than anything at the moment, I want to see her as I know her, alive and happy and grinning. Stealing Oreos from me. Smirking at me after her program. Looking at the page of our book with her head on my shoulder. It tears me apart that I won't be able to see her like that anymore.
The person closest to me is Fujimoto, trying to arrange the haphazard pile of skates. "Why did Yoshida and Sasaki run out?" I ask, bending to help him. There are only a couple pairs left, all knocked over thanks to everyone's franticness.
We both stand once the skates are in a neat row again. He wipes his palms of his jeans. "Yoshida tripped over something on the ice, we think she broke her wrist or something. I don't know the specifics." He glances at the locker rooms as though willing everyone to reappear. "Maeda and Sasaki both went to help her in the nurse's office."
"Oh, wow." That's probably the last thing anyone wants to deal with right now. My hands tug at the hem of my skirt as we fall back into silence. "Has anyone-"
"Found anything?" He shakes his head with a grimace. "Nothing yet, I don't think. You knew her best, so…"
So I'd be the most helpful in this investigation. Of course. "Guess I should get down there," I mutter to myself, but I don't make a move. I'm frozen where I am, feeling my chest rise and fall with deep breaths. I need to keep myself calm, rip this off like a bandaid. I already searched around her, I don't need to look at her again if I don't want to. I should get this over with so I can find the sick bastard that did this and bring them to justice.
I think Fujimoto says something to me, but I can't hear him as I grab the same pair of skates I wore before, lugging them over to the seats. I put them on and lace them up as fast as I can, paying a little less attention to the laces this time. I can't lose my chance. I have to find the evidence.
Almost everyone who's left here is scattered around on the ice, even though there really isn't much to look at. I remember the scuff marks Saito saw last time and study the ice. I don't see anything irregular about it, just our tracks from moving around. It would be kind of hard to tell if there was anything wrong with it, but, well, we have to try.
There's nothing on this half of the rink other than the CD player she used during her practices. It still sits on the low wall, but it looks all beaten up, broken. Ikeda skates up next to me, coming to a stop. "That's what tripped Yoshida after she knocked it over." He points to the cord that's nearly reaching the ground. "See? There's a bit of a notch from the blade of her skate. It probably severed a few wires."
He's right, the notch is pretty noticeable. The CD player probably won't work anymore because of this. I pop the top of it open out of curiosity. There's no CD inside like there was when Miyuki was working on her program. I don't see why this morning would be any different, but maybe she was working on technical skills instead.
"I don't know what else to look for, or where to look," I admit, running a hand over the top of the CD player once the top is shut again. I try to rack my brain, thinking of what I did last time. "Is someone already collecting alibis?"
He nods after a moment. "I think Nakamura is, but given our routine and when the bo- she was found, I don't think we'll be able to learn anything from them." Much like last time, then, though I do note him tripping over his words. This is going to be tough to figure out once more. A frown fixes on his lips as he looks me over. "Are you sure you're up for this? You look a bit pale. Do you need to sit?"
"I'm fine," I lie, forcing a semi-convincing smile. Despite the cold air, I feel too hot. "This needs to be done, right? I can't sit out."
He's definitely not convinced, but he lets the matter drop as Yasu approaches on the other side of the wall, two e-Handbooks with him. "I found this in the locker room," he says, handing one of them to Ikeda before pocketing the other. "I think it could have something to do with this."
"Are you sure? Couldn't someone have dropped it?" Ikeda asks, puzzled. I don't really see how it makes a difference, either.
"I don't think so." He reaches over and powers it on, revealing the owner of it to be a ghost: Rikimaru Kirika. "See?"
How the hell did that get in the locker room? Where did it even come from? I'm all kinds of confused, and I don't think anyone has a concrete answer. Everything is just so confusing. At least last time, we had evidence to go off of. The evidence we have here could mean anything.
"Why would anyone need Rikimaru's e-Handbook?" Ikeda muses, handing it over to me. I inspect it, but there's nothing alarming about it other than the owner. "Which locker room did you say it was in?"
"The boys' locker room. That's the only one my e-Handbook opens, so it's the only one I can investigate." He looks down for a moment, shuffling his feet. "This is all I came up with after searching."
Yet again, that makes no sense. We can't lend e-Handbooks, so whoever killed Miyuki must've used their own e-Handbook, meaning they're female. But whoever left Rikimaru's e-Handbook in there must've been male, right? My head starts to throb a little, and I lean on the wall. I scowl down at the e-Handbook. What secrets is it hiding?
"We need to figure out where this came from," Ikeda mutters, looking to me and Yasu. "Do you two want to do that?"
"Sure, I guess," I say after a moment. It's not like I have anything else to do, not if I'm sure I've already looked everywhere. Yasu waits patiently for me to take my skates off again. I slide my feet out as soon as possible; tugging at the tight laces takes time we can't afford to waste.
"If I were Monokuma, where would I keep e-Handbooks?" Yasu wonders aloud when we meet outside the locker rooms. I can't think of anywhere right off the top of my head, and I doubt Monokuma would tell us if we called him. Our footsteps are the only sound until we reach the first floor. "Oh, you know what? I was looking around by the main entrance the other day, I think there's some container thing there. We should check it out, just to be sure."
I don't think I've been near the entrance before, so I wouldn't know. I follow him, still holding Rikimaru's e-Handbook. There are spots on the screen from where she touched it before, but I can't make out any fingerprints or anything that would tell us who took it. I sigh through my nose, letting my hand drop to my side. I want to go to my room and ignore all of this. I want it to go away.
"Here!" He points to a plastic drawer on top of a small table. Definitely not the first thing I focused on; the barricaded door is much more eye-catching. He opens it, revealing only one thing: what must be Matsumoto's e-Handbook. "Bingo. This must be where it came from."
"But why use a dead person's e-Handbook anywhere? Isn't that breaking some kind of rule?" The words leave a sour taste in my mouth. I feel pathetic for not having an answer to my own question. If this were actually school, my grades would be down the drain. How humiliating.
"I really don't know." He focuses on the two e-Handbooks for a moment before putting Matsumoto's back in the drawer and shutting it. He turns and faces the way to the nurse's office. "Do you think we should check on Yoshida?"
Not when we have so little evidence. We can't take breaks. But I see the empathy in his face. "You can. I'm going to see if there's any evidence in her room."
I start to go that way, but he catches my arm before I can get far. His mouth is settled in an uneasy frown, his eyes searching mine. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Am I? "Yes. There could be evidence there, like with Matsumoto." Of course, I'll probably be alone if he doesn't come with me. I'll only be in there for a few minutes. "I'll be fine. Promise."
He hesitates for a moment. "Okay," he finally says, still unsure. "I'll come get you when I'm done, alright?"
I nod, and he lets go of my arm. Instead of walking with me, he watches me go, but I don't care. I just keep walking until I find myself outside her room.
Her door, like Matsumoto's, is unlocked. I didn't think about how strange that was before, but Monokuma must've kept their doors unlocked for us to investigate. I push into the room, leaving the door open a crack behind me. I don't feel like closing it.
Her room, like mine, is full of stuff. Instead of the stacks of books like my room, she has trophies, medals, and old framed pictures. I pick up one of the pictures sitting on her desk, studying it. She must've been around seven or eight when this picture was taken, smiling proudly with a large bouquet of flowers and a gold medal around her neck. All of the pictures, I quickly note, are of her and her accomplishments. She's racked up quite a bit of them.
...This isn't what I'm here for. I set the picture back down right where it was and take a wider look around. Her room is neatly kept, but it looks on the edge of not having been lived in. That's at least true of the last few days, spent almost exclusively at the rink. I poke around as much as I feel comfortable with. There's no note in her trash, nothing that would indicate that she was in here just prior to her murder. No evidence of any kind.
I sit down in the center of her room, my legs crossed. Exhaustion sweeps over me as I look around from that perspective. I hunch over, resting my forearms on my legs. Everything in here is so incredibly her that it almost hurts to look at.
At least a minute must've passed before the door creaks open. "Ishikawa, we should go back and investigate more," Yasu says gently. He doesn't need to walk on eggshells around me. I don't want him to.
"How's Yoshida?" I get up slowly before exiting the room. Yasu waits until I'm in the hallway to close the door. I think he tries to not have me notice. I do.
"As far as Sasaki and Maeda can tell, her wrist is definitely sprained, it's kinda swelling, but they wrapped it and have her some pain meds and an ice pack. They were looking for a sling for- extra stability? I think." He shakes his head. "They said they couldn't tell if it was broken since there aren't any x-ray machines, and even if there were, they don't know how to use them. You should've heard Yoshida, though, swearing up a storm."
I'd imagine. That's a pretty sucky position to be in. "Monokuma's still going to make her participate in the trial, though, isn't he."
"I wouldn't put it past him." His brow furrows as we come upon the locker rooms. "No rest for the sick or injured, I guess."
We part there, and I take a quick look around the locker room as I pass through. Nothing catches my eye immediately, nothing that I haven't already seen. Miyuki's duffle bag is still relatively undisturbed; I might've been the only one who'd gone through it. That definitely makes me feel a bit more like it was an invasion of her privacy.
Nakamura is waiting for me when I exit the locker room, waiting by the skates. He pushes himself off of the wall he was leaning on when he sees me. "There you are! I've been looking for you."
It takes me a split second before I remember what for. "You need my alibi?" He nods, already attentive. I think for a second, making sure to get everything right. "Um, I got up a little before the morning announcement, got ready, and went to the dining hall. By the time I got there, it was around seven-ten. Abe and Saito were there as well. Once everyone was in the dining hall, I was sent to come get Miyuki-" my voice breaks a little on her name, and I swallow before continuing. "And I found her. That time is in the Monokuma File."
Even if it's only to soothe me, make me feel better somehow, Nakamura's expression is one of sadness and sympathy. "You didn't see her this morning before finding her?" I shake my head; she was always here before the announcement played. "And you were the first to find her, right?" I nod; I was, at least to my knowledge. "Do you know how much time passed between finding her and when Sasaki came in?" I shake my head again; I didn't even know it was Sasaki who had come in after us. Nakamura taps his thigh a couple times. "Okay, then. When did you last see her?"
I open my mouth and close it again. How late was it? "I think around dinner yesterday? I think most of us were there. She left before six to go to the rink, I didn't see her the rest of the night." Even though she said we would read. She was excited about it.
"Okay, I think I've got it." He sighs, leaning against the wall again. "Well, there's not much variance this time around, either. Not that I expected there to be."
"Please, tell me- is there anything that raises suspicion?" My eyes are wide, pleading. I'm all but begging for suspicion to be cast on anyone. I need to find out who murdered her.
For a moment, he doesn't say anything. When he does, he doesn't meet my eyes. "There is. But let's discuss that in the trial," he adds quickly before I can ask. "Animosity now will only slow down our efforts."
That makes sense, I guess, but I don't want it to. "There's not much time left, is there." I have a feeling that I already know the answer.
"I don't think so." His sympathy has shifted into something else. Maybe apologetic, but mostly...pity. "We'll find them, I promise."
For the Super High-School Level Charmer, his words aren't very comforting. I can tell from here that everyone's starting to slow in their efforts. Abe and Saito are barely paying attention to everyone around the room. I don't know how much more evidence we can possibly find.
I look down to the pile of skates, avoiding Abe's line of sight as he glances over. Thanks to me and Fujimoto, the nine pairs, including Miyuki's, are no longer haphazardly strewn. I look over at the rink once I'm sure Abe isn't looking here; six pairs.
Nine and six.
Only fifteen.
Where's the last pair?
"...Ishikawa? What are you staring at?" Nakamura tries to follow my gaze back and forth between the skates and the rink, but he doesn't collect the dots like I do.
"There's a pair of skates missing." I walk by him, trying to scour the rows of seats for them. They have to be around here somewhere! I don't know if they could be key evidence, and it's not like they're easy to hide.
The locker room door closes, grabbing my attention. "I think I found what you're looking for," Hamasaki says grimly. She lifts a pair of skates that were at her side, the blades a rusty brown. No explanation for that other than dried blood. "They were hidden behind the workout equipment in the girls' locker room."
How did I not see them before? I thought I checked- wait, I didn't. I stopped looking after Yoshida and Sasaki ran through, and before that, I'd only looked at her bag. I start to feel sick. Did I really not examine the room to its fullest?
I shake my head minutely. "Is that what I think it is?" I ask, motioning to the blades of the skates. Hamasaki nods solemnly. Even though I can't see Miyuki from this angle, I look in that direction. "That must be what cut her, then." They look sharp enough for that, and I'm certain I've heard stories of the blades being able to cut flesh. My only question now is how there was evidence in both locker rooms.
"I'm still wondering why there isn't any sign of a struggle," she says, changing the topic. "Something like this seems like there would definitely be a fight, you know? But there's nothing else to say that. No bruises, nothing." And knowing her, Miyuki wouldn't go down without a fight. I know she wouldn't. "There has to be something we haven't found yet. Something that'll clear everything up."
"I mean, we could check around the seats again, but I don't see how there would be anything there," I offer halfheartedly. I don't think evidence will magically show up when we want it to. Maybe if one of us was a magician or something, but we don't have anyone like that in our ranks. How convenient that would be.
"We need to be sure to communicate this time around." Nakamura shakes his head. "We need to be as thorough as possible, and that means knowing absolutely everything beforehand. No more surprises like Yoshida and Oshiro's alibis."
Those hadn't made much of a difference in the long run of the trial, but I know what he's talking about. "You have all of the alibis, I swear we've scoured everything. There was nothing in her room, nothing in here, nothing in the locker room."
If I'm not mistaken, Hamasaki and Nakamura share a quick glance. "Hey, do you want to go check in on Yoshida and the others?" Hamasaki asks, something different playing behind her eyes. She looks to the floor before I can figure out what it is.
"Sure, I guess." It's a strange request given that I was literally just down on the ground floor, but I don't see the harm in it. I go back through the locker room, straining this time to see if there's anything I missed before. As far as I can tell, there isn't.
The walk down is lonely and silent since it's just me this time, but I can't help but feel that I'm being followed. There's no explanation for the feeling; nothing's following me except for the cameras detecting my movement. I don't know if that's how they really work, nor do I want to know, but that's what it feels like. I hurry the rest of the way down.
I linger in the doorway of the nurse's office for a second, knocking on the frame to get their attention. "How's everything going?" I ask, trying to sound calm and casual. I'm certain that I've failed.
"Been better," Yoshida grumbles, staring at her right wrist, propped up by a couple of pillows. Just like Yasu said before, it's been wrapped with a bandage and has an ice pack resting on it.
"Just be glad we found pain meds easily," Sasaki sighs, running a hand over her head to catch hairs that have escaped from her braid. She stands in the corner, still searching for something. Out of the three of them in here, she easily looks the most stressed. "This would've been so much easier if I had a garden here, I know so many combinations for natural pain meds."
Maeda sits on one of the empty cots, not doing much of anything. I wonder if he'd actually helped at all, or is just avoiding investigating. "How's everything upstairs?"
I shake my head, leaning against the frame. Well, it's more like the frame is supporting most of my weight. "I don't know where this is going to go. I just want it to end." I only rub my temples for a second before Sasaki tosses a bottle at me. I scramble to catch it, reading the label: headache medicine. "Thanks." I take one and swallow it dry, putting the bottle on the nurse's desk.
"Control what we can," comes her weary response. Everyone in here is dejected in their own way, either from pain, exhaustion, stress, worry, or a combination of any of those. I feel like the investigation itself is more draining than the arguments of the trial, especially since we have more suspense of when time is going to be called. "We'll meet everyone at the red door when Monokuma calls time, okay?"
I turn to leave before pausing, something popping up from the depths of my mind. "Wait, actually, can I pick your minds for a moment?" They all look at each other, but nod. "How do you think the motive fits into all of this? I haven't been able to figure it out." Not that I gave it much thought to begin with.
Everyone is quiet for a moment, thinking. "Whoever did this probably has the video," Maeda eventually supplies. "Then they killed to get out of this hellhole."
"Took the words right out of my mouth," Yoshida says dryly. She adjusts the ice pack, wincing and cursing quietly as the pressure lands again. "Whoever did this is going to pay for it, don't worry." As if she needs to be the one reassuring me right now when she's the one with a busted wrist.
Sasaki takes longer to chew on the thought carefully. "Honestly? Who knows if the motive fits in at all. This could be a personal matter for all we know."
That's exactly what I'm afraid of, and I hope I don't show it. I don't even know if she had any issues with anyone because we never discussed it. We never felt that we had to discuss it. "Alright, thanks. I'll be heading back, then."
The monitors choose that moment to flicker to life. Monokuma's gleeful smile permeates the static. "Time's up, bastards! Get yourselves down to the red door ASAP! Let's get this going!"
We look to each other grimly. "We'll catch up in a second," Sasaki says, producing a sling from a mound of medical supplies. The relief on Yoshida's face is instant at the thought of the stability, but doesn't last too long. We know what's coming for us this time. Best case scenario, we lose one more of us. Worst case scenario, only one of us lives, all of our blood on their hands.
Maeda and I start down on our own, not breaking the silence the entire way. We're the first ones there, waiting for the upstairs group to come down. Sasaki and Yoshida actually come in before them, fitting into the more spacious room easily. For a fleeting moment, I convince myself that Miyuki will show up with them. She doesn't.
A minute after the larger group comes in, Monokuma moseys in, doing a quick head count to make sure we're all here. "Alrighty! We're all here on time, good for you! Pile on into the elevator and we'll get moving. I'll meet you down."
He disappears, and I hold my breath a little as we climb in. It's empty without her hand to hold, but I'm more determined than ever to finish this quickly. I will bring her justice, even if it's the last thing I do.