Genus ∫∫ Sumire Meji ∫∫ RE: motive ∫∫ Closed: Kiyoshi Seki
As always, Sumire remained relatively unaffected by the motive. Though she pursed her lips while she observed the reactions of the students around her, Sumire found herself calm. There was no reason to panic, and certainly no reason to overreact, but perhaps her lack of a familiar bond with the people that she called family was too weak for her to concern herself with their whereabouts. It wasn’t as if she were in close contact with anyone, having stayed with a professor for the duration of her time she spent studying at the college lab that she had loved to research at, thus she felt no attachment to the people she called family prior to that. Besides, they would be able to make it out alive, if they were in a difficult situation, and even if they couldn’t, Sumire supposed that it was fate.
Alternatively, the fact that she had dozens of her “children” resting on the windowsill of her window was enough to ensure her peace of mind.
After departing from the Karaoke room, glad to be away from the constant noise of the other students, Sumire found herself wandering around. She had noted that a large number of students had fled from the room, and diffused into different parts of the train, and like any other student, Sumire decided that she too would leave. She didn’t know where to yet, but as usual, she felt a need to return to the study, a room in which she liked to study.
Entering the study, Sumire found herself drawn to a book on an interesting topic: How to be sensitive. Deciding to pick it up, for lack of a better book to read, Sumire found herself wandering over to the seat where she usually sat….only to find it occupied by another student, who was reading. She barely recognized him, but then again, when did Sumire take the time to get to know another? Not often enough. Thus, she decided to clear her throat before speaking.
“Hello, child…aren’t you upset by the announcement?” Having not yet read her book, it was still clear that Sumire was still as insensitive as always.
“Aren’t you going to do anything about it?”
After the motive had been explained, Kiyoshi had immediately left the room. He couldn’t handle it. And if anyone saw that, he would probably be at the top of their suspect list when - no, if - the murder came around.
Heart beating fast and ears ringing, he stumbled down the carriages, finding himself in the study. It was a quiet, pleasant room to end up in, and he was glad to see there was no one else in there. For a few seconds he leaned against one of the bookshelves, trying to regulate his breathing and ride out the panic attack that was making him feel like he was dying.
His family... No, no, no...!
He had to not think about it. With a shaking hand he reached out and took a book from the shelf. Any one would do. Lord of the Flies. Unfortunately for Kiyoshi, he didn’t know what this book was about and promptly sat down to immerse himself in it. (He’d have to wash his hands a few times afterwards. Five times... that seemed right. Five.)
Sumire might have been offended to know that Kiyoshi also barely recognized her. He jumped when he heard her clear her throat, and peered at her out of the corner of his eye. He looked small in his seat, legs together, hunched over his book.
“O... of course I am... Who wouldn’t be?” he managed to stammer out.
Her question confused him, and he narrowed his eyes at her. When he caught sight of the title of her book he had to restrain himself on making a comment about how she really needed to read it.
“I-- I think if I was, I wouldn’t be telling you about it.” He smiled, trying to make the atmosphere a little less cold. “Um... What’s your name again? I’m... Kiyoshi Seki.”
