☆ seek the truth

who would believe the fantastic and terrible story of our survival ---------------------- [ indie saihara ] | written by tetra |

[promisesleuth-blog]

umaou:

“Nishishi..!” The grin that spreads across his face is sharper than usual. Maniacal, menacing, or as much so as he can be. “A super-totally-not-boring game, of course!”

He leans in, taking a couple more seconds to really intimidate Saihara, before he pushes the detective’s shoulder.

“Tag!” He runs past and looks over his own shoulder. “You’re it!”

He’s caught off-guard by the look on Ouma’s face, apprehension rising further in anticipation of what exactly he’s gotten himself into now... only to be left standing in confusion as he’s tagged. It takes him a moment to register what happened, but once it passes, he turns and takes off running after Ouma. He did agree to play after all.

“Not for long!” he calls back, deciding to at least give it his best shot if this is really what they’re going to do. It feels so stupid, chasing him through the dark like this. Playing a game for kids when they’re already caught up in a game for their lives. But he’s doing it anyway, trying to put everything else out of mind. All he has to do is catch him.

[promisesleuth-blog]

umaou:

“Some of us weren’t quite so naive.”

Ouma had certainly hoped they wouldn’t reach this point, but he knew from the start that it wouldn’t be so simple. People would die. That was simply the nature of such a game.

“But that doesn’t really matter now! It’s over.” He’ll keep saying it until he believes it. Until it comes true. “No one’s gonna be dumb enough to get tricked into killing again… unless attacking me reawakened Harukawa-chan’s blood lust or something!”

Okay, he’s bored.

“Let’s play a game!”

It’s over.

Is it, though? It’s the sort of thing that feels like it’ll never truly end-- or at least it does from where Saihara is standing. But he’s tired of thinking about it. He’s thought about it over and over again, so much so that it’s worn a groove in his mind. The typical jab at Maki aside, Saihara hopes he’s right. That nobody would be stupid enough to fall for any more tricks; that nobody else will have to die.  Maybe it can be over now.

“A game...?” he asks, slight apprehension apparent in his tone. Ouma’s games are always... interesting, to say the least. But maybe an interesting diversion is what he needs right now. “Okay. What kind of game do you want to play?”

[promisesleuth-blog]

truthslain:

@promisesleuth liked this {x} for a starter!!

Lunch was the only time during the school day he was able to see Shuichi. Few Reserve Course and Main Students interacted, typically preferring to keep to themselves. It was always somewhat awkward passing through the halls to get to their designated lunch spot. But upon finding his brother, his eyes lit up instantly. “I didn’t keep you waiting long, right?”

“Not at all, but you know I don’t mind waiting.”

Even if Seiji had kept him waiting for a while, Shuichi wouldn’t let him know. He doesn’t want his brother to go worrying over something like that when he already has so much on his plate. As long as they get to see each other, that’s all that matters, isn’t it? It’s certainly all that matters to him, anyway. The division between Main Course and Reserve Course gives him few opportunities to spend time with his brother, but he’s not about to go fussing over a few minutes here or there.

“How’s class going today?”

[promisesleuth-blog]

justiceslain:

“It is fairly different,” she hummed in response. Her own eye contact was direct, undaunted. While she was a girl, she was also a nation. She wasn’t queen yet, but in some regards she might as well have been. Her thoughts and words reflected that of her nation.

“After all, absolute monarchies are nearly a thing of the past in this day and age,” Kaede commented. Was this a test? Or genuine curiosity? As a woman, as a ruler, she had to prove herself. Be it her ability to lead or to hold her own. Absolute monarchies were taken down, because of their corrupt and unjust ways. Though no government went without its faults.

Something he was, undoubtedly, aware of. Something he may have been searching for within her. She knew only the most vague of rumors about him, from alleged allies in the Diet. Something she couldn’t quite put her faith in. Judgement of him needed to be her own, before she made any decisions.

“Japan is… ahead in way of  scientific and technological advancements as well,” she added in. What was he truly looking for? What did he wish to know of her? His expression was unreadable. Though hers was equally the same. Controlled, poised, but welcoming nonetheless. “Is there anything in particular you’re curious about?” she questioned.

“I think if I asked everything I want to know, we’d be here all afternoon,” he responded, the tone of his voice still casual and light. It was all like a little joke. Nothing serious; nothing to be on guard for. Nothing except for that unreadable expression, fitted across his face like a mask. “Not that I’d mind. I bet you have so many interesting stories to tell.”

That he’d like to hear them isn’t far from the truth. He’s quite curious, that much is a fact. Nosy, even. Though he’s mostly digging for information, getting a good read on the princess’ character will be just as useful. Besides, it’s already quite pleasant having a simple conversation like this. So few people would be content to sit across from him and merely talk. Even surrounded by his peers, it’s an uncommon opportunity.

“What do you think of the people you rule over?” he asks, raising his folded hands to rest his chin atop them. Even still, his eyes don’t leave her. “And what do they think of you? Can you even say you know such a thing?”

[terutoo-blog]

Semd me a ♤ to have me write a drabble of my muse as a SHSL ____ ( talent of your choice )

Please specify if you want to have a specific talent showcased or asks will be ignored.

[promisesleuth-blog]

umaou:

“Hah, you were really worried about me?”

He knows the answer already: yes, but not out of any genuine concern for Ouma himself. Saihara’s just like that. Ouma’s not about to call him out on it, though. The last thing he wants or needs is pity. It really doesn’t matter either way.

“Don’t be. I’m not gonna die so easily, you know.”

That part he’s not so confident about, but he doesn’t let it show. It is, as usual, something to be pushed aside for later. Or never, preferably, but he needs to be realistic here.

“Of course I did,” he returns, finding himself unable to hold Ouma’s doubt against him. He kind of deserves that. It doesn’t make his concern less real, though. “How could I not, after everything that happened?”

He’s been trying to think about it as little as possible, but that proves nearly impossible to do. It’s lingered on his mind ever since the conclusion of the trial. It’s not so easily put behind him, perhaps in part because of the fear it instilled still clinging to him. Fear and confusion and doubt. It’s never really left at all.

“I think we all thought that at one point or another, didn’t we? And look how that turned out.”

That they weren’t going to die so easily. But die they did, down to this last group of stragglers somehow surviving. How could he not fear Ouma dying when so many around them have already died? It wasn’t impossible. Hell, it wasn’t even implausible. It’s hard to put his unease to rest knowing that.

[promisesleuth-blog]

umaou:

The question leaves Ouma wondering what sort of condition Momota’s in. The astronaut isn’t dead, he knows that much, but beyond that he’s in the dark. Ouma’s tempted to ask, but he doesn’t want to express concern. Not for his fate or for Kaito’s.

“Of course! I feel great, actually.”

And right now, he does. He usually feels pretty decent overall. His wounds are healing quite nicely and everything else he’s had to deal with is bearable enough. There’s still a nagging doubt in the back of his mind, though, one that only grows now that he’s allowing himself to dwell on it.

“Didja miss me~?”

Saihara’s not totally sure he believes that. Lies are Ouma’s stock and trade, after all, and why would he bother being honest about anything even now? There’s a bit of soft skepticism in his expression, but he doesn’t press it.

“Yeah, I did. I’m glad to see you’re recovering so well.”

He does mean that. Ouma’s conspicuous absence has left him with his own lingering worries. When barely anyone sees him, it’s hard to know for sure that he isn’t holed up somewhere dying. To think they’d narrowly avoided losing both Ouma and Kaito, only to find him expired some days or weeks later with none of them having been any the wiser... He puts a stop to that train of thought. Not now. Not ever again.

“I’m... glad you’re still with us.”

[promisesleuth-blog]

maskslain:

The truth of her actions weighed heavily upon her shoulders. How close she nearly came to sacrificing everyone. Of course, she knew now she would have died with them. But the real master mind would have lived. Her desperate attempt to end this killing game would have been for naught. The thought made her indescribably ill.

No reason could justify murder. Particularly, the murder of innocent people. It was only through Saihara’s detective work that they were still alive. It was the aftermath that she was realizing just how far she was straying off the path. A path she rarely walked to begin with. One Kaito pulled her onto, for the brief time they knew each other. How far could she stray..?

Yet, Saihara was still choosing to trust her. Still considered her a friend. She supposed he always left her confused like this. How could he trust her? Maki could barely trust her, before this killing game. And even less so now. But she supposed that was how he was. Ever since he learned the truth of her talent. “Yeah..,” she murmured softly in response, forcing her voice to cooperate with her.

“I guess you’re right,” she continued, after a moment. She knew he was trying to be positive for himself, just as much as he was for her. Her personal weight was survivor’s guilt, though that never left her. But he was the one who had to lead, to guide, every trial. He was the one who had to find the truth, no matter how pain, in order to keep them alive. Awkwardly, she fidgeted with her hair, “I don’t want to get in your way, Saihara-kun… But if there’s anything I can do to help…,” she trailed off, but her offer should have been clear.

“You’d never be in my way, Harukawa-san.”

There’s no hesitation in reassuring her of that, and no room for doubt in his tone. He truly means it. Maki’s been more of a help than she seems to realize. She’s always so level-headed and observant; a voice of reason when there are seldom others at times. Saihara wonders if he’d be pulling through this at all if not for her. So now, for her, he’ll be the one helping her through the difficult challenges placed in their path by whoever’s pulling the strings behind this miserable “game.”

“You’ve been a pretty big help this whole time. I think... I’d be kind of lost without you.” It’s a little embarrassing to say something like that, but maybe the time for letting that sort of thing hold him back has passed. The time they have left is uncertain; limited. He’s only lately realized how terrible a feeling it is to discover you wasted time not saying something, and then regretting it when it looks you’ll never get a chance to again. She deserves to know what her friendship has meant to him after everything that’s happened. In case of what may come next.

“So please, continue to help me like you always have. We can get through this together. You, and me, and everyone else.”

[promisesleuth-blog]

umaou:

The moon shines bright above him as he’s making his way back to the dorms. How long has it been, he wonders idly, since he ate with the others? Days, he knows that much. Solitude is boring, but he’s hesitant to rejoin them after everything that’s happened. He’s sure there are no complaints there. It’s not necessarily that he goes out of his way to avoid them; it happens naturally. Stealing away into the night like the good old days.

Ouma takes his time walking back. Holing up in his room all day is the absolute worst. He’d might as well enjoy the night air, however artificial it may be.

He slows to a stop. There’s a figure further up on the path.

He’s surprised, but only briefly. He was bound to run into someone eventually. He approaches with his usual mischievous smile like hey, what’s up, I’m havin’ a great time tonight!

“You’re up late.”

It’s a little awkward, running into him like this. Saihara’s barely seen Ouma for a while now, though whether that was just down to bad timing or Ouma intentionally avoiding him, he can’t know for certain.

Not that he’d have it in him to blame him if he was going out of his way to avoid him, given the especially harsh things Saihara had said before everything went downhill spectacularly. The guilt of that hangs around his neck, immovable. It’s always on his mind, in some form. Ouma’s been on his mind a lot, too, though he acknowledges that part slightly less.

“Can’t sleep, I guess,” is the excuse he offers, shrugging his shoulders and smiling thinly in some token attempt at playing this off casually. It’s transparent, but it’s not a lie, at least. He really can’t fall asleep, though taking a walk hasn’t done much to settle his restlessness. “You’re up late, too. Are you... okay, walking around like this?”

[promisesleuth-blog]

@justiceslain || pjo starter i promised u like a month ago oops

He can’t help but grow restless staying cooped up in Athena cabin all day. It’s been harder and harder lately to sit indoors like he usually does, tucked away at a desk pouring over one of the countless books provided for the occupants there. Not that he’s become at all disinterested; he’s merely carted one off to read in the shade near the archery range. Something about doing his reading outdoors in relative solitude makes it easier to focus. It doesn’t even take him long to completely tune out the sounds of bowstrings twanging and arrows burying themselves in the targets just downfield.

There aren’t many people on the range, though, so it’s not particularly challenging background noise to tune out either way, which works out well enough. Despite having been at camp for a few years now, Saihara’s not exactly the most popular camper around. It’s easier to just stay out of everyone’s way and mind his own business. He can recognize the archer closest to him- a blonde girl; someone from Apollo cabin -but he can’t place her name. Only occasionally does he bother glancing away from his book to watch her sink another arrow into the target she’s aiming at. She’s pretty good, naturally.

But in spite of his own inherited proficiency with bows, he pays it little mind. The last thing that belongs in his hands is a weapon. He’ll leave that sort of thing to campers like her.

[promisesleuth-blog]

As usual, Saihara's lock is picked with ease and Ouma's in the room before anyone can stop him. "Surprise~!" He knocks on the door as he steps in. He swings it shut behind him and presents Saihara with a gift - silver earrings (which he paid for, the absolute madman!) and homemade chocolates. Kirumi did almost all of the work, but it's the thought that counts. "Happy White Day, Shuichi."

Ouma coming and going to his room as he pleases is less a surprise these days and more a thing of habit that Saihara’s grown adjusted to. The real surprise are the gifts he gives him, and it must show on his face as he looks up from the book he’s reading to process Ouma’s arrival. He’d been hoping that Ouma had something intended for White Day, but he didn’t expect he’d actually get him anything.

“Thank you, Kokichi,” he says with a fond smile, accepting the gifts offered to him and looking over them. He’s particularly taken with the earrings, but the chocolate is impressive, too. Did he go through all the trouble of making it himself? Saihara hadn’t expected anything, but he did so much for him anyway. He’s pretty touched, actually. Ouma can be so sweet when he wants to be.

“I love it. I’ll go put these on in just a minute.”

The earrings Amami helped him pick out were still nice, but he was eager to wear the ones he’d been given. For the time being, however, he sets both gifts down on the desk and returns to Ouma, hands finding either side of his face as he leans in to give him a soft kiss. Ouma could have given him just about anything and he’d still be happy. That they’re together at all is more than enough, honestly. He couldn’t have asked for anything better than this.

[promisesleuth-blog]

maskslain:

In her decision to face her feelings, she hadn’t considered the outcome. Rather, the preferred outcome. The outcome that was quite literally returned to her. Feelings of her that were reciprocated. Reciprocated for some time, it would seem. Despite choosing to go out on a limb, Maki hadn’t expected to be caught. It was a risk, she knew. But the end result was far from her mind.

But that was like him to startle her, wasn’t it? He never saw it that way, she knew. Though the way she was drawn was hard to put in words. He was kind and compassionate. More so than he gave himself credit for. Though he might have wanted to turn away from the truth, he was learning to face. No. He was. And he would see the truth in others. Though conversations weren’t always light, he never turned her away when they became heavy.

Somehow, she hadn’t expected him to choose her. To like her.  His confession left her stunned momentarily. Maki thought her heart might burst out of her chest. The smile upon his lips was the confirmation of his words. He was smiling… because of her. Her own gaze averted to a bush of flowers just passed him, though a shy smile of her own formed.

“Ah..,” her lips parted, upon realizing she needed to react. Happy couldn’t begin to describe the way she felt. She rose to her feet and stepped forward. “I-I… uhm, made these for you,” she hummed contently, holding the heart shape box out to him. Inside, he would find chocolates shaped like various animals. Of course, all handmade.

He reaches for the box offered to him, though it’s more of an autopilot sort of reaction. His thoughts are still moving too quickly for him to catch up to; still caught so off-guard by anything happening to him. Saihara had already managed to lose track of it being Valentine’s Day in the span of a few short minutes, so it was a pleasant sort of shock to hold her gift in his hands. She’d really gone out of her way to make such cute chocolates, all for him.

“Thank you, Harukawa-san.” He’s having a hard time meeting her eyes, but his appreciation is nothing short of genuine. Nobody’s ever given him chocolate for Valentine’s day, much less ones they’d made themselves. It felt almost cruel to have to wait a whole month to properly repay such a sweet gesture. “They’re so cute, I-I think I’d feel bad eating them.”

Not that he’ll let them go to waste or anything, though. Eating the candy she’d so thoughtfully made would be the very least he could do. But... not right this moment. Saihara doesn’t think he could swallow even a single bite with how his stomach is currently tied in knots. He keeps his eyes fixed on the box, unsteady hands gripping it as he struggles again to find the words he’s looking for.

“I-It... really means a lot to me, Harukawa-san,” he manages, the red in his face only deepening. Articulating things like this has never been his strong suit. It’s too embarrassing; too revealing. For her, though, he wants to get across how he feels. “You mean a lot to me. So knowing how you feel... I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

As nice as the chocolate was, that was what he cared most about. She could have come empty-handed, looking the same as ever, and he’d be just as happy. It’s surreal, being able to feel this way. It’s a feeling he’s never experienced so strongly in his life. He brings his eyes to hers briefly, ever shy in spite of his obvious joy, and smiles warmly at her.

“I think they might need to have me switch places with the luckiest student, because there’s no way anyone else could be luckier than I am today.”

[promisesleuth-blog]

umaou:

Ouma definitely doesn’t think like Saihara does. He hadn’t even thought about what he’d do with it, to be honest. He remembers just setting it aside and… that’s it. It’s like a magic trick; everything unimportant to him disappears into the void. Yumeno would be jealous.

“Sit down,” he tells Saihara, gesturing toward the bed.

“Hmm…” It can’t be buried too deep in here. He’s not daunted by the chaos, though he is starting to wish he’d cleaned up a bit. He digs around the mess carefully organized collection of items nearest the door. It would make the most sense for it to be around here… bingo! He raises the first-aid kit in the air triumphantly.

“Found it!” he very nearly shouts. Ten points to him! Ouma hops over to the bed and settles in next to Saihara. He wasn’t usually the one to take care of injuries back home, so he’s at a bit of a loss, but he can totally figure this out.

He thinks about trying to help Ouma look, but even if he wasn’t beaten up currently, he’d be of little use. Ouma’s room is a mess, whether he wants to admit it or not, and Saihara’s not particularly good at picking things out of the clutter the supreme leader’s built up. Besides, Ouma gets fussy when he pokes around his belongings too much.

So he complies with his orders and sits down on the bed, keeping his hands pressed to his face in an attempt to avoid dripping blood on it as he watches Ouma dig through his things. At least he manages to find it fairly quickly. Saihara doesn’t particularly care if Ouma keeps it- or loses it somewhere in this disaster area -but he’d really prefer not having to go to the school nurse for this.

“How bad does my face look, anyway?” he can’t help but ask once Ouma’s settled in beside him, hands cautiously lowering so they’re not in the way. It’s not like he’s had a chance to look at himself since the fight, but he hopes it just feels worse than it looks, because it feels terrible. “I mean... w-we can handle this, right?”

[promisesleuth-blog]

I guess if everyone else is doing it.

[promisesleuth-blog]

umaou:

❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

(๑・ω-)～♥”

[promisesleuth-blog]

maskslain:

His heart certainly wasn’t the only one beating faster than normal. Her own was racing at a rate that almost didn’t seem humanly possible. Honesty was far from her strong suit. Expressing her feelings was something she skirted around. Though talking to him, being around him was safe. Something that had always been safe. Saihara truly was many things.

She initially intended to tell him. She had it planned out. She had rehearsed it with Toujou, over the last few days. She wanted this to go smoothly, because he deserved that. After everything he did for her, Maki wanted to be able to convey this to him properly. But in the moment? Her innate shyness took over. Her mind was wiped clean of her thoughts.

“I-I… uhm…! I-I like y-you, Saihara-kun…,” she practically squeaked, stuttering suddenly. Maki’s cheeks flushed darker still The admittance was too sudden, too childish. Her usual even tone was momentarily replaced by something more honest and girly. “Ah..,” she gasped. No. She needed to get this right.

She cleared her throat, before speaking again, “I-I like you, you know… A lot.”

At first, he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. That... had to be a mistake. He’d misheard somehow, or is misunderstanding her. She doesn’t like him. Not that way. She can’t, because who would? But there she is, more embarrassed and honest than he’s ever seen her before. This isn’t the sort of thing she’d lie about, or turn into a joke. Maki wouldn’t say this sort of thing without meaning it. That terrifies him more than anything, but it’s an exciting kind of terrifying.

He tries to get a grip on himself; tries to form some kind of coherent reply to her confession, but nothing comes. He’s caught fully off-guard, and there’s a blush on his face that could rival her own. He considers asking her for clarification. That she’s sure it’s actually him she likes. It still feels too beyond possibility that she could feel this way about him. But she wouldn’t go out of her way to do this if it was nothing, and treating this with disbelief would be cruel of him.

“H-Harukawa-san, I-I...,” he starts, clearly fumbling over his words in an attempt to respond. He pulls a shaking hand through his hair, a smile on his face even as he avoids eye contact with her. If his heart beats any faster, it feels like it’ll rocket right out of his chest. “I-I, um. I’ve always... l-liked you, too, actually...”

It’s almost impossible for him not to like her. She’s everything he isn’t: Strong, and brave, and always in control. She wears a cold, stony mask, but he’s seen the kind, lovely heart she hides underneath it. In spite of what she’s been through, she’s compassionate. Selfless. Putting her life at risk for the benefit of others. She’s a better person than she’s ever given herself credit for being. A person he’s found himself liking very, very much.

[promisesleuth-blog]

maskslain:

@promisesleuth is receiving Valentine’s day chocolate!!

Valentine’s day was… something she’d prefer to ignore. Something that had previously reminded her of just how lonely she was. This year however, her thought pattern was different. Particularly, after the gifts Saihara gave her only days ago, for her birthday. She could say she was looking forward to it. Or rather, she was looking forward to his reaction.

She asked him to meet her in the school garden, once classes were over, before promptly disappearing for the rest of the day. Getting ready would take some time, though she enlisted Toujou’s help. She could only do so much with hair and fashion on her own. However, a dress was chosen. Her hair was tied into a single, long ponytail. The flower crown headband he gifted her previously was neatly placed upon her head.

Maki sat on a bench, near the middle of the garden, awaiting his arrival. A heart shaped box filled with chocolate rested upon her lap. Her hands gripped it tightly, nervously. She’d never done anything like this before, after all. When he arrived, the girl rose to her feet. “Saihara-kun,” she hummed in greeting.

“Ah… Today, there’s something… I want to tell you,” she spoke after a few seconds. Her word choice was particular. It wasn’t I have to tell you something or I need to talk about this issue. This was something entirely of her own choosing. Something that she decided on her own, without any outside influencing or troubles. “Will you listen?”

Maki’s invitation and subsequent disappearing act had left Saihara confused and more than a little concerned all day. There had been a certain kind of anxiousness he couldn’t quite place when she’d asked him to meet her in the garden, but as time elapsed without further word from her, it turned more into worry. Actually seeing her there at their arranged meeting time was a relief in some ways, and a return to that previous anxiety in others.

She’s distracting both in word and in deed, his mind split between processing her words and taking in her appearance. Maki’s always been cute, but actually seeing her dressed up- and wearing something he gave her to boot -was almost too much. And that she had something to tell him... on Valentine’s Day of all days. In the garden, alone.

It felt like just wishful thinking to imagine it had anything to do with her having feelings of any kind for him. That she’d dressed up and done all this for someone like him.

“I-I, ah... of course, Harukawa-san.” He tries to maintain his usual enthusiasm, but his heart is beating faster than he can keep up with, and his mouth is so dry suddenly. It can’t be what it seems like. “You know I’m always happy to listen to whatever you’d like to say.”