Torturing Tsukasa Tenma Because His Jester 4* Didn't Come Home When I Pulled

DAY THREE: March 13

Day two of the event, day three of this torture.
Current crystal count:
Pulls Left: I got his ass 💀🙏
Current tier placing: t4000
Todays Torture Method: Noise.

Using his own strength against him today, it seems.
————

"That's the last of it," I say to myself, looking at my body in the mirror.

My arms are covered in gauze, as are my legs and my neck. I look like a mummy, or a chuunibyo, depending on how you see it first.

I don't know why I'm not dead.

I woke up today, completely fine. Not dead.

Save for the scratches on my skin. They were still there.

But the holes weren't. They were gone, no trace of them left.

Was yesterday real?

I can't tell. Maybe it did happen, but I was hallucinating.

..

I don't like that thought.

Either way, a slap my cheeks, forcing a smile onto my face.

"See? You're fine," I say to myself, "You can do this. It's okay."

I leave the washroom. On the floor, near the railing, there is a small, barely visible stain; the remnants of a squashed spider.

There's school today, so I walk downstairs to make breakfast for Saki and me. I really hope I didn't wake her up last night, or my parents, for that matter.

But when I turn to face the fridge, there's a calendar hanging on it. March 11th to 19 is highlighted in one, big circle, with the words 'BUSINESS TRIP' scrawled across the dates.

Oh, never mind, then.

My parents weren't even home last night.

I frown, tilting my head to the side. Something about that doesn't seem right. But when I think about it, my head feels fuzzy, like there's this strange fog blocking me from tapping into my memories.

It's weird, but I decide to pay it no mind. Saki will wake up, soon. I need to have the food ready for when she wakes up.

I take out what I need, beginning to make breakfast.

..It's quiet. Too quiet. The sounds I make when I move don't help.

I want music, some white noise in the background while I cook. But I can't hear the ticking of the clock anymore, and I don't want to go all the way back upstairs to get my headphones.

So I cook in silence.

The sizzling of the oil in the pan is a nice noise, but I dislike how it flies everywhere.

Something's off about it.

Shouldn't it be louder?

I step back, suddenly aware of the single footstep I made.

Loud.

Too loud. As if it were echoing in a silent church.

Were my footsteps always that loud?

I can hear a voice call out to me, in the volume it should be.

But something is wrong with it. And I do not know what.

My sister, Saki, she's the one who calls my name.

You woke me up, she says, annoyed. Why're you so loud?

I don't bother to look at her, too focused on my cooking. But I still reply back to her, apologizing.

My voice was louder than I intended it to be. Saki seemed irritated, I can feel it.