Blades of Despair

-Chapter Forty-Nine-

Acquisition of Knowledge

(This chapter is told from Miyagawa's perspective)

It was the day after Mitsumi's execution. I had barely slept at all. I was cold, really cold. No matter how tightly I wrapped myself in my duvet and blankets, I couldn't shake off the chill that had enveloped my entire body from the moment that Mitsumi admitted to his crime. His piercing screams as he was burned alive still echoed in my head whenever I shut my eyes, and the look in Nishi's eyes as he watched his best friend die continued to haunt me.

Even now, I was unsure exactly what kind of relationship Nishi and Mitsumi had. They were best friends, certainly, but did they share moments of romance or intimacy when the others weren't around? Everyone knew that Nishi had had feelings for Mitsumi, but had the Ultimate Pole Dancer felt the same way in return? My skills as the Ultimate Appraiser weren't able to decipher Mitsumi - he had kept himself so closely guarded, I was never able to gauge how he was really feeling or thinking. It was almost ironic that the one student among us who wore their heart on their sleeve the most had the most impregnable defense. Then again, if this killing game had taught me anything, it's that the students in my class at Seiko Academy were all hiding something. Many of the victims and murderers had secrets that were only exposed during a class trial - Edward's country and its war, Uehara's lonesome past, Mitsumi's torture. Just how many stories like theirs were lurking behind the terrified eyes of my classmates? Did Ori have a story like that - was she hiding something from me?

My thoughts drifted to Ori, and there was a pang in my chest when I recalled what Nishi had said to her. I hate you. When Nishi said those words, I saw something break in Ori's eyes. All this time, she had been helping us find a way through the trials. She had been nothing but wonderful and had saved our lives time after time, and still she was being punished for her actions. She blamed herself for the deaths of the others, but to have one of her friends confirm her greatest fear - that the deaths of our friends were all her fault - had doubtlessly messed her up. Four class trials meant four times that Ori had undergone this severe process of self-loathing, and I was worried that the game was going to destroy. It made me unfathomably angry. I was angry at Nishi for saying what he said - I knew his outburst came from his own pain of losing his sister and best friend, but he should have known better than to lash out at Ori at a time when we were all suffering. However, most of my frustrations were directed at myself and how powerless I was to help Ori. I didn't want her to feel the way she did. I wanted her to be happy, despite everything, and I wanted to be the reason that she was happy. However, I couldn't protect her from her own self-destructive thoughts, and that terrified me more than the killing game. The idea of losing her was almost too unbearable to consider, but it was an eventuality that I would one day have to face.

"Now's not the time to think about death," I told myself quietly. I felt terrible, but I had to face the others. There was no point in dwelling on lives lost - I would be able to grieve properly once we escaped. I slowly readied myself for another day in hell, my eyes refusing to open fully until I splashed myself with cold water. I got dressed into my usual attire and checked myself in the mirror.

I noticed in my bathroom mirror that my natural hair colour had begun to creep back underneath the dark, dyed streak. I ran my fingers through my darker hairs and sighed sadly. There was no hair dye in the academy's storeroom, and my hair had become almost annoyingly long since our entrapment. I sighed sadly as I looked at the mirror and then through the doorway at my bedside table, where the portrait of my mother stood.

"What would you think about all this? Would you have let me go through this? What about Gran - would she have let me endure this nightmare? I wish you were still alive, mother. There are so many questions..." My voice trailed off and I shook my head. There was nothing to be gained from talking to the dead, especially of whom I had no memory.