Kamiya family; you name 'em, we kill 'em!

Yo, the name's Zenshiro Kamiya! That's kind of a mouthful though, so feel free to call me Shiro! I'm sure we'll be great buddies, haha. Hm? My talent? Er, well... I'm... kind of a hitman, and I... H-Hey, what's with that look? I'm not gonna hurt you or anything, I promise! Well, that is... unless I'm hired to... Ahaha, I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Don't leave! ((Ah, hello! This is a side blog, so any asks will be sent from my main blog! u w u;; This is also one of my first roleplay blogs here on tumblr, so please bear with me if I make any mistakes, ahaha... ))

[shslmaskedhitman]

Lost and Found

[shsltimidapparelworker]

Akira repeated his apology a couple more times, slowly calming down from his panic. He straightened when he heard the other speak, blinking in surprise when he saw the mask. “A-Ah…” he wasn’t sure what to say, he bit back another apology.

His eyes lit up when the masked teen held out the purple rabbit. “Y-yeah..!” he nodded, eagerly taking the plush from the other’s hand. “Th-thanks.” A soft smile was on his face as he held Little Foot to his chest. “S-sorry…” Another apology left his lips before he realized it.

"A-ah… I’m Akira… Akira Hisakawa…" The small boy looked up to the taller as he introduced himself. "T-thanks for finding Little Foot for me… I wasn’t sure where he was…" He tightened his grip on the plush as his gaze turned down to the ground.

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro felt a bit nervous as surprise flashed across the kid's face. He hadn't meant to startle them. Fortunately, for him, the other noticed the rabbit plush he was holding out towards them. Their face lit up, and they eagerly reached out to grab it. Shiro couldn't help but grin at the look of relief and happiness that spread across the kid's face. Well, he was certainly glad he had decided to look around first.

He waved off the apology - this kid certainly did a bunch of that, didn't they - and held out his left hand in a friendly manner. "Nice to meet you, Akira!" he beamed, though the other wouldn't be able to tell, "I'm Zenshiro... er, Zenshiro Kamiya, but, uh, you can just call me Shiro."

Shiro furrowed his brow and tilted his head "Little Foot?" he echoed, obviously confused if his tone of voice was anything to go by. What were they talking... Oh! Shiro blinked. "The rabbit?" It had a name? Or rather, he had a name, it seemed. How cute. Shiro smiled, laughing lightly. "Aw, you're welcome! I figured his owner would be worried if they found out they'd left him behind somewhere, y'know?"

[shslmaskedhitman]

Lost and Found

[shsltimidapparelworker]

"Hey, thanks man!"

Akira waved sheepishly as the other student ran out of his room, a patched up jacket in their hand. They had dragged the small boy from the restroom to ask for his help in fixing a jacket they had ripped. Akira tugged the hood from his head and turned back into his room.

Wait.

Something felt off to the blue-haired teen, what was it? He crossed his arms in thought, then it hit him. Where was Little Foot? His heart jumped as he started to panic a little. Where was he last… Think, think. His thoughts raced, too fast for him to really process what they were saying.

He looked around his room, seeing if the purple rabbit was somewhere in there, but no luck. He spun on his heel and left his room, shutting the door behind him, and hurried down the hallway, trying to keep a calm posture as he did. Wasn’t working so well.

Akira was too busy panicking in his thoughts to pay attention to his surroundings as he ran down the hall to notice the older male standing in the hall. A yelp left the smaller boy when he slammed into the other in his rush, promptly falling backwards onto the floor with a thud.

"Ahh..!" he jumped up to his feet and bowed quickly. "S-sorry..! I-I didn’t see you…!" he apologized a few times, though he was still on edge from the panic still rushing through him.

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro had wandered throughout a couple of halls aimlessly, looking around in hopes of spotting a short person in a lightly colored hoodie, but alas, no luck so far. Shiro frowned, coming to a halt in the middle of a hallway. Should he just forget it and take the rabbit to the front desk now? He didn't want to spend too long searching for the kid, he had a class he'd need to get to soon...

He looked down at the stuffed animal, turning it around in his hand gently. It was worn and covered in patches, now that he took a better look at it. 'Huh.' It must've been pretty old, then... It's owner would surely notice it's absence soon. 'Hmm...' A few more minutes of looking around for the kid couldn't hurt, right? Before Shiro could even finish his thought process, he heard hurried footsteps approaching from behind. He blinked and went to turn around...

Something slammed hard against his back, then hit the floor behind him with a thud. Or rather, someone. Shiro tensed for a brief moment, then quickly turned around to see who had bumped into him. '...Ah!'

The hitman blinked down at the person as they began bowing and apologizing profusely. The short stature, the hoodie... 'It's them!' Shiro grinned, nearly chuckling. "Hey, you're fine!" he told the kid. They were really in a panic, it seemed. He held out the stuffed rabbit towards them. "This is yours, right? You, uh, left it in the lounge."

[shslmaskedhitman]

No Paparazzi Please!

[shslfashionblog]

Suzume giggled. Despite his startling appearance, he seemed to be rather shy and awkward. She didn’t need to see his face to figure out that one. Plus, he stopped to help her, so that meant he’s shy, awkward, and really nice!

"It’s nice to meet you, Shiro-san. I’m Suzume Yamaguchi." She bowed again, though not quite as deeply as the last one, and shifted the items in her arms. "Um…so what’s your talent? I’m a video blogger." Her face grew warm again, and her smiled slightly strained. "I’m pretty sure they only scouted me for my popularity rather than than the quality of my work, but I guess I can’t complain."

She tilted her head. Normally, she’d be able to at least make a decent guess at someone’s talent from looks alone, but she was absolutely clueless this time. A fox mask and a pinstripe suit? The mask threw off her businessman guess, and he was too shy and awkward to be a performer (like she’s one to talk). He didn’t seem like a bookish or scholarly person either.

…Or she could just wait for his answer. It’s rude to judge.

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro found himself relaxing a bit at the girl's giggles, though he still felt confused. She wasn't nervous? Well, he was glad that she had relaxed and was smiling at least. He felt his own lips quirk up slightly. Her cheeriness was infectious, it seemed.

"Suzume?" he echoed, his smile widening just a tad. "It suits you!" It really did. Sparrows were pretty small, right? "It's nice to meet you too, haha." Shiro watched as she bowed again. She was one of those really polite people, wasn't she? Her actions reminded him of Shuichi somewhat... but her small stature and innocent smile reminded him more of Matsujo. Shiro shook his head, but a chuckle still managed to slip through his lips.

Talent. Shiro's face went blank. Shit, right. He should've known that question would pop up. "Um..." Suzume continued talking, however, giving Shiro a moment to think. 'Video blogger?' So, she recorded stuff and put it on the internet? "Oh, that's cool!"

Shiro frowned slightly when Suzume implied that her quality wasn't the best. "Aww, don't be like that!" He waved his left hand in the air dismissively. Wait... Shiro froze. Crap. He glanced at his hand for a brief second, then quickly and promptly drew it back to hang limply at his side. "Um, if you got accepted here then you must be good at what you do, right?" Shiro smiled nervously, hoping she'd overlook his little blunder. It was kind of a pointless gesture though. He was wearing a mask.

Suzume had fallen quiet, and was looking at him expectantly. Ah. His... talent. Well. Better go ahead and just spit it out, right? "I'm, well, my talent, uh... I'm a..." Out with it already. "I'm a hitman." Shiro braced himself for her reaction. Either she'd think he was joking, or...

[shslmaskedhitman]

Lost and Found

Shiro stretched his arms slightly, biting back a yawn. God, that class was boring, and the teacher's lecture... He had honestly been having flashbacks of Keiji as the teacher droned on and on and on...

Well, at least it was over now. Shiro had already left the classroom and was making his way to the lounge. He was bored, and feeling a bit lazy. The lounge was closer than his dorm was, and he had his laptop on him. He figured he could play some sort of online game to pass the time until his next class, or see if any of his siblings were online.

After few minutes of walking, Shiro was rewarded with the sight of the lounge. He made his way over to a small, unoccupied couch that had a table set up beside it. He sat down his laptop and other possessions onto the table, then turned towards the couch and...

Um.

Shiro blinked slowly, staring with confusion at the rabbit plush that stared back at him from it's place up against the back of the couch. 'What?' The hitman reached out, plucking the stuffed animal from the couch with ease. He stared at it for another second, then glanced around the room. "Uh..." There were a few other people scattered about, but none of them glanced his way, nor did anyone seem to be looking for something.

He looked back to the rabbit, furrowing his brow. Should he just... take it to the front desk or something? 'Wait...' Now that he looked closer, it kind of looked... familiar. 'Ah!' That's right! It belonged to that little kid with the hoodie! 'Erm.' Well,if they went to high school then they weren't really that little, now were they? Shiro shook his head, clearing his mind of his pointless musings. What mattered was that he'd seen the kid around before, and they seemed to be constantly toting this rabbit doll around with them. So that meant that it was probably important to them then, right?

Shiro frowned thoughtfully. Maybe he should walk around a bit to look for the kid...? If he couldn't find them after a few minutes or so, then he could just take it to the front desk. Yeah, that worked. With a small shrug, Shiro gathered his things back up and, stuffed rabbit in hand, began his little search for the mystery kid.

[shslmaskedhitman]

No Paparazzi Please!

[shslfashionblog]

Suzume stumbled as her mind worked the process what had just happened. It felt as though she’d walk right into a brick wall… and from the looks of the student she bumped into, that comparison wasn’t far off. She reached up to cradle her sore shoulder, and frowned as she watched the other person walk off without even a glance-back or apology. Was everybody in this school so rude…?

…No. Not everybody, but it certainly seemed that way sometimes. 

She sighed and crouched down to pick up the new mess in the hallway— her stuff. This was not the way she wanted to start her day.

Everything seemed to be undamaged for the most part, just scattered. Especially her candy. The loosely sealed bag must’ve come undone when it hit the floor, because the hallway was now dotted with just about every color of the rainbow. After gathering her other possessions into a neat pile, she got to work on collecting the thankfully individually wrapped candies.

She could almost feel people staring at her, and it only made her turn bright red in response. Of all the things to drop, it had to be her sugar stash… which technically wasn’t hers to begin with, but didn’t the headmaster say that they were free to anything in the kitchen? Well, he probably didn’t mean to imply that she could take their entire stock of hard candy, but that’s beside the point.

After gathering what she could reach, she took to her feet and was met by someone holding out her pocket notebook and dorm key. When she looked up on their face, she startled— she was not expecting them to be wearing a mask, much less one like that.

Oops, they— he asked a question. “U-um…yes, I think so.” She took the items from his hands and bowed. “Thank you, and I’m sorry you had to see that. I…um…” With that mask on, it was hard for her to tell what kind of person he was, but he had to be nice if he bothered to stop and help her, right? She gave him a smile. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you new too?”

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro was able to get a better glimpse of the girl's face once she had stood up completely. Her cheeks were colored red, in what Shiro assumed to be in embarrassment. He felt a small pang of pity at the sight. 'Poor girl...'

She noticed him then, and her expression quickly melted into one of shock. Oops. He hadn't meant to scare her. 'Probably shouldn't wear a mask everywhere like a weirdo then, genius.' Shiro smiled nervously, nearly letting a few awkward chuckles slip from his lips. Well, at least the girl wouldn't be able to see his expression. The mask proved to be useful after all!

He continued to hold the notebook and key out towards her, feeling a bit awkward now. She started to speak and Shiro perked up, only to feel a bit of guilt at her stuttering. He... hadn't scared her that much, had he? Well, at least she was alright... Shiro blinked at the bow, quirking an eyebrow. "Oh, uh, no problem." His left hand, now empty, moved to rub against the back of his neck. "Heh, no worries!"

The girl straightened from her bow, and then, after a second, gave him a bright smile. Shiro felt a bit befuddled at her sudden change in expression, and let his hand fall back down to his side. He'd thought that she'd be wary of him, but apparently not. "Uh, yeah, a bit..." he trailed off, unsure of how to continue. 'Um... name?' Shiro blinked at the thought. Right. He should probably introduce himself. "I'm Zenshiro, but, er, you can just call me Shiro."

Shiro almost stuck his hand out for a handshake, but then remembered that the girl currently had her arms full. Right. She was carrying a lot. A notebook, key, some... candy? To be honest, when he heard them all hit the ground he had assumed that they were... marbles, or something similar to that effect. He'd brightened up a bit when he'd gotten closer and saw that it was actually a bunch of candy. That reminded him... his hoard was starting to dwindle. He'd need to restock soon.

[shslmaskedhitman]

No Paparazzi Please!

Shiro looked at himself in the mirror, cringed for a brief second, then glanced away to reach for the couple of hair clips he'd already brought out. After pinning his bangs back, he made no delay in swiftly grabbing and slipping on his mask. Shiro blinked a few times, then peered through the eye holes in the mask at his reflection in the mirror. He really did look a bit strange wearing this, didn't he? Shiro laughed dryly, reaching out to rub the side of the plastic mask, before turning away from the mirror to exit the bathroom.

He glanced around the next room for a second, then headed over to grab his phone - Keiji would give him an earful of a lecture later if he missed any calls or texts - and, after slipping it into his pocket, the hitman moved to leave his dorm room.

Shiro shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it. He didn't know how long he would be gone after all... or, well, he didn't really know where he was going, to be honest. The lounge, maybe? He hadn't really taken the time to actually explore the school since his arrival, now that he thought about it... Now would be as good a time as any to map out the place, he supposed. He didn't have any classes today, so...

'Well, I could...' Shiro glanced down the hallway, eyes quickly finding the name plate on a door a few dorms down. Kazu was friendly enough. He could always hang out with him, but... 'He might be busy though, I shouldn't bother him...' Back to Plan A then, it seemed. Shiro turned, heading down the hallway, with no clear destination in mind.

About fifteen minutes later or so, as he had paused during his walk to reply to a text he'd received from Miyoko, a sudden noise nearby caught his attention. Shiro blinked, looking up from the phone screen just it time to see an assortment of items go flying out of a short, pink-haired girl's arms and scatter onto the ground nearby. The girl immediately crouched down to gather her things, but the person beside her, whom Shiro assumed bumped into the girl by accident and thus caused the small incident, walked away after a second, not even sparing a glance back towards the pink-haired girl. 'Ah,' Shiro blinked a couple more times. They weren't even going to help her? 'That's...' He glanced around, then back to the poor girl on the ground. He couldn't just walk on by, could he? If no one was going to help her, then...

After a moment of hesitation, Shiro put his phone away and made his way over towards where the pink-haired girl was trying to collect her stuff. He bent down, grabbing the item closest to him, then helped gather up all the things that were still scattered about. "Um..." Shiro straightened back up, then looked down at the girl as she went to stand. 'She's so small...' "Here, uh, are you okay?" he asked, holding out the items he'd collected towards her, feeling a bit more nervous with each passing second.

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

Kazu felt Shiro jerk his hand away when he spoke, and he cringed. “I-I…” Slowly, he looked up. Shiro had taken off his mask  but his face…! His expression twisted to an expression of remorseful despair. Shiro was freaking out over just the idea, and Kazu felt whatever little that was left somehow beating in his chest breaking. 

"B-because, I… I’m going to die anyways, you can… make it easy…. Then Akira would have…: his breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. "Would have… died… for something actually good instead of…" Kazu couldn’t finish his sentence. 

Shakily, the hairstylist reached out a hand and rested it on Shiro’s cheek. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry….” He looked down, his lip trembling again. “…. I don’t want to hurt you….” Too late, huh? He’d already done that. 

He slipped his hand down, trailing his fingers down Shiro’s neck and grasping the shoulder of his jacket, using it to pull himself towards his boyfriend, He slid his arms around Shiro’s torso, resting his head on his shoulder. He was shaking pretty badly… and so was the hitman. 

Nothing was going right.

He was a horrible person.

A horribly, shitty person, nothing but a mistake that shouldn’t have happened. At any rate, surviving this far had been a joke. He should have just been murdered to start with. 

He shouldn’t be here.

Then Akira would be alive. 

"… Please…?" If Shiro could kill him, that would be…

[shslmaskedhitman]

"Don't..." Don't what? 'Don't say that'? But, if Kazu didn't die, didn't get executed, then... everyone else... Shiro would die as well, and he wouldn't be able to seem them, to make sure...

However, if he killed Kazu...

He could make it quick, his boyfriend wouldn't have to suffer through any kind of torture the bear was surely to put him through, and Shiro could make it look so that the hairstylist had taken his own life, that he'd... he could...

Was he actually considering this? 'No...' What was he thinking, what... 'I can't...!' Shiro nearly flinched when a hand touched his cheek, but he, thankfully, didn't lash out defensively. The hitman tried to calm himself, tried to look Kazu in the eye, but the other's had turned his gaze downwards.

"I know," he murmured, still a bit too shaken to say anything else. "I know."

Kazu's hand drifted to grab onto his jacket. Shiro let the smaller male pull himself closer and embrace him. He felt Kazu's head against his shoulder, and he felt a tug at his heartstrings as he felt his boyfriend's trembling. Shiro hesitated, then moved to return the hug, resting one of his hands at the back of Kazu's head.

It was silent for a few seconds. Shiro winced at Kazu's plea. "I... I can't. I'm sorry."

He was being selfish. Kazu was begging him to... but he couldn't. He couldn't handle the guilt of ending the other's life. However, now that he knew, he couldn't exactly help the other get away, couldn't help him avoid the execution, and he...

He wanted to protect Kazu, but he couldn't.

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

Shiro’s question echoed ominously, and Kazu just hung his head. He started trembling again, despite his efforts to stay more composed. “I-I…” He bit his lip. 

He couldn’t ask Shiro to help cover it up, no matter how much he wanted to. He couldn’t. 

"I don’t know….!" He put his head in his hands, his words running together as he began to talk faster and faster. "I-I’m scared, I don’t want to die, I don’t want that bear to win, I don’t want him to kill me! You saw how he killed the others, you saw, and I…!"

Then, he went silent, his breath catching in his throat.

"…Shiro…." Kazu swallowed. If Shiro did this, Shiro could die, but… he could also… "K-kill me. Please… Make it look like I did it…. Th-then you can get out…." 'And I won't be killed like some pawn in a game… It won't be drawn out, slow and painful, for show…. I'll just be… gone…' 

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro's gaze softened into a concerned look as Kazu began to panic again. He reached out when the hairstylist dropped his head into his hands. Hesitatingly, his gloved fingers rested against the other's arm. "Kazu..."

The smaller male had fallen silent, and Shiro was about to tug him closer, then...

Kill me.

He froze. His eyes went wide behind his mask, and he felt his blood run cold. "Wh... What..."

Kill me.

Horrified, he jerked his hand away, as if he'd just been burnt. "What... are you..." Shiro began shaking his head back and forth. He could feel himself shaking, just barely, but... "No! No, I-I can't... Why... Kazu, don't..."

No, no, no...!

Shiro suddenly reached up to jerk his mask off, and stared down at the back of it as he tried to calm himself. "I can't... Don't ask me to... I can't kill you, I can't hurt you." He wouldn't, couldn't, be able to live with himself after something like that. "I'm sorry, I..."

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

Kazu was silent after Shiro tried and failed to say anything coherent.”…Do you hate me?” His voice shook, but he had to ask, he had to know. He couldn’t die without knowing….

He looked up at his boyfriend, a look of terrified resignation on his face. One thing Kazu knew for sure was that he didn’t want Shiro and the others to hate him; at the same time, he knew that if they did, it would be easier to go.

"I’m sorry…" he trailed off, looking down, his voice pained. 

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro blinked, then started shaking his head. "No..." Kazu had looked up then, and Shiro wished he could somehow wipe that look off of the hairstylist's face. "No, I couldn't... I can't hate you. I can't..."

Kazu looked down, murmuring apologies, and Shiro wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. His mind was still racing. He didn't know what to do, he didn't...

"Kazu, what... what are you going to do...?" Was the hairstylist just going to give himself up? Is that why he had confessed to Shiro? Or was he hoping Shiro would help him get away with it?

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

Shiro was scared? Shiro?!

Kazu hung his head, putting his face in his hands again. What could he do now? Nothing, that’s what. He was useless, only good for messing everything up and for easy sex. What hurt so much is that he knew that. He was aware of it. “…Yet still.. I valued my shitty life and secret over his…” His voice was just barely audible- he didn’t realize he was speaking out loud. Even so, his voice was obviously full of pain and regret. 

He shook his head, then slowly lowered his trembling hands to his lap. His lip quivered, but he didn’t cry again. “… Shi…ro?” His voice cracked.

"I-I…." He stared at the floor, twisting his hands together. "Can you… I mean…." Kazu swallowed. 

'… kill me?'

No. No. He couldn’t ask… he wasn’t ready. He was too afraid, he had something to live for now, it… But he deserved to die. He deserved to die a slow, painful, suffering death.  ”I don’t want to die.” Like Shiro really needed to be told that again.

[shslmaskedhitman]

Kazu's head drooped down, and Shiro felt another pang stab at his heart. He shook his head slowly as the other began murmuring. His voice was quiet, very quiet, but Shiro could still hear him. "No, Kazu... don't..." Degrade yourself? Blame yourself? Shiro didn't know how to, and couldn't, end his sentence.

The hairstylist said his name, and Shiro's gaze snapped over to him. Kazu was stuttering again, and Shiro held his breath.

Kazu didn't finish whatever he'd been about to ask, however, leaving Shiro both confused and concerned. The other kept talking though, and Shiro felt his heart shatter. Kazu was scared, Kazu didn't want to die... "I... I can't... I don't..."

I can't help you. I don't want you to die either.

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

"I-I don’t know…!" Kazu’s voice cracked and he kept his hands over his face. "…I was… I’m scared…!”

He could hear muffled screaming. He could feel Akira shaking and almost convulsing under him. He could see his own vision blurring.  Hopefully this was almost over, this was horrible…

The scene played in his head, over and over and over. “I should be dead! I should be dead, not him, he didn’t do anything…! And I’m…” He swallowed, looking up at Shiro for a moment before quickly looking away again, his voice dropping in volume and trailing off. “… me.”

Akira began to convulse under him, his muscles spasming from a lack of oxygen. And then… he was still.

Kazu felt sick. Why had he confessed? In the moment he had looked up, he was glad that Shiro was wearing his mask. Glad he didn’t have to see… But the hitman was shaking, and that was so, so wrong. 

"I’m so scared… I don’t know what to do…." His thoughts were going all over the place. "Ugh! I hate myself, I hate myself…!" Despair. The bear had won, at least over Kazu. "I-I don’t…"

"I don’t want to die! N-not any more… I finally found somethi… someone to live f-for… and then I…” For some reason, his tears were slowing. Maybe he had reached the point where he couldn’t cry anymore. “A-and now you hate me and…

There was no way he’d get away with it. He was as good as dead already.

"I’m scared…"

[shslmaskedhitman]

Scared? Akira had probably been scared too. 'Shit...' Shiro shut his eyes, but then all he could see was Akira dying, and Kazu... He opened his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

I should be dead!

He immediately glanced over towards Kazu again as the words spilled from the hairstylist's mouth. "No! N-no..." He didn't know what else to say, really. He didn't want the other to die, but he knew he couldn't try and defend Kazu's actions.

Shiro winced at Kazu's self-deprecating sentences, but he still couldn't say anything. He didn't know what to say, what could he say? He cursed himself for being so useless, but he just didn't know what to do.

"Kazu--"

The hairstylist kept talking, cutting him off, and Shiro felt his eyes widen at the boy's next words.

'Someone... to live for...?' Shiro's heart thudded painfully against his chest. 'Then, why...' "I-I don't hate you, I can't--" Shiro cut himself off, taking a moment to steady his breathing. Even if he'd killed Akira, Shiro couldn't hate Kazu. He couldn't bring himself to, the boy had wormed his way into the hitman's heart, and, even now, he couldn't...

"I'm... scared too..."

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

As the words left his lips, he tensed up, bracing himself for whatever fallout would hit. There was silence. Then, Shiro grasped his shoulders and pushed him back, probably trying to make eye contact. 

Kazu couldn’t do it.

He kept his face angled down, not looking up- in fact, even making a point to look down and away. His hands shook, still clutching Shiro’s shirt. 

And Shiro said he was lying. Kazu shrank down; it felt like something in his chest was ripping in too, and his stomach twisted. 'He… wants to have faith in me…' In that moment, there was no feeling that was worse. None. He would have taken his mother’s anger any day, he would have taken his brother’s insults… anything, over this. Knowing what he had done, and Shiro denying it…

He clenched his jaw, trying to keep composure. Oh, but he was crying again…

"I-I was… going to see you… and I r-ran into him… and panicked… and I…" Kazu let go of Shiro’s arm and raised his hand to cover his own nose and mouth, but his hand shook quite badly. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the tears. God, how did he have any tears left? 

When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper. “Shiro, I’m s-sorry… I… didn’t mean… the motive… ” Somehow, he dropped his head even lower, slouching down and wishing he could sink into the floor and be gone.  ”I panicked and then… h-he was…” 

'Dead.'

[shslmaskedhitman]

Kazu wouldn't meet his gaze, and Shiro felt something inside him break. For a second, his grip on the other's shoulders tightened, but then, almost instantly, he let go, and his hands fell uselessly back down to his side. "Please..." he murmured. 'Say something, say you're lying, say you didn't do it, SAY SOMETHING...!'

The hairstylist had started to cry again. Shiro began to reach out, then paused, and pulled his hand back. He glanced down as his fingers gave a slight twitch. He was shaking, just slightly, but... 'Why?' Kazu was talking now. Shiro lifted his head, watching the other carefully.

"Panicked...?" Shiro could understand that. He could understand panicking, and accidentally hurting someone, but... he hadn't just hurt Akira, he'd...

"He... fought back... a-and you..." Akira had been so small, so fragile, tiny, and weak, and he tried to fight back, but he'd still... "Why...?"

The motive, of course. Kazu had gotten so worked up over the motive, and then...

"Why... are you telling me this? Why..." Shiro couldn't just turn Kazu into the others, but... he couldn't just let the others face the consequences if they picked the wrong culprit. They'd die, he'd die, and he couldn't...

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

"I tripped! I tripped!" Kazu’s voice rose a little in volume, he was almost frantic. He looked up, trembling all over, then hesitantly reached out and grasped Shiro’s shirt, pulling himself close and pressing his forehead against his arm again. "… I wasn’t…"

Don’t. Don’t. 

"D-don’t hate me, I know you hate me, I didn’t… You can’t….!" A pained noise escaped his throat. He felt sick, this was wrong. This was so wrong."I fell! H-he didn’t mean… I didn’t want… Then….!" 

No. The pronouns. That…!

He froze, then tightened his grip on Shiro’s shirt, and grasped a spot on his shoulder too. “… I-I…” His voice was raspy, hoarse from the crying, and much softer than the near-screams that had just been escaping his voice. No use hiding anymore.

 He whispered, his voice cracking. “I was… I…!” Kazu’s voice broke and turned into another gasping sob, before faltering down to almost nothing. 

When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. “… I d-did it.”

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro winced, glancing back over to Kazu as the hairstylist's voice rose. He was shaking, reaching out towards him, and Shiro almost flinched back. Kazu only grabbed hold of his shirt though, and shifted closer to press his forehead against Shiro's arm.

"I-I... don't... I don't hate you, Kazu, I--"

'He?'

Shiro froze, and he felt his eyes widen. 'No.' He felt as if he'd just been punched in the stomach. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't... 'No, no, no, no.'

That little slip-up proved it, though, didn't it?

Kazu's grip on his shirt had tightened. Shiro looked over at him. "Kazu...?" he murmured, after a moment of hesitation. His voice was quiet, unsure, and he almost sounded like... like he was afraid.

I did it.

'What?' Shiro blinked, not sure if he'd heard the other correctly. "You... You're lying." He pushed Kazu away by his shoulders, just slighty, and tried to catch his gaze. "C'mon, you're lying, right?" He tried to laugh it off, surely this had to all be some kind of joke, but he couldn't.

This was no joke. This was real. This had happened.

Akira was dead... and Kazu had killed him.

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

Kazu didn’t notice when Shiro came in, curled up and rocking and struggling to keep from panicking more. The box, he should get the box… but no, the box wasn’t for something like this.

This, he deserved. He deserved to feel every bit of pain. 

He didn’t even hear Shiro call his name, but he did feel a sudden hand touch him. He sat up abruptly, turning to face Shiro and shrinking away, his arms in front of himself defensively. “I-I’m sorry…!” His tear-filled eyes widened when Shiro asked what was wrong, and he pressed one palm against his own collarbone. 

"T-he… pants… blood won’t come out and…" He choked out, vaguely gesturing towards the sink with one hand. His sleeves were soaked, and water was splashed all over his shirt from his recklessness trying to scrub blood out of the pants. The pants that were no longer bearing signs of blood. "If it… then I…" 

Kazu stopped talking, trying to concentrate on breathing while choking back sobs. He felt lightheaded, on the verge of hyperventilating.

'Stop this, this is pathetic… don't let Akira's death be for nothing. If I get caught, then…!' Deep breath. Hold it in. Don’t shake. “I-I…” He held his hands palm up right in front of himself, looking down at them. 

The hands that killed Akira, right? The hands of a liar. The hands of a murderer. The hands of someone who deserved to die. 

Kazu’s hands shook in front of him, and after staring at them with an expression of growing horror dropped his head, covering his face with them. “The b-blood… I hurt my leg, I fell… it was… an accident, I tripped. T-tripped… I didn’t mean to…!” he mumbled into his hands, hiccuping and gasping words into somewhat coherent sentences.

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro jerked his hand away as Kazu shrunk away and held up his arms in a defensive manner. "Sorry...?" 'For killing Akira?' Shiro felt sick again. He didn't respond to the hairstylist's apology.

"The...?" Shiro glanced over towards the sink when Kazu gestured. The pants were there. The blood had been washed out. "The blood's... it's gone, Kazu..." He looked back towards the other, but glanced away immediately.

The look on Kazu's face... He couldn't stand it. It hurt, seeing that look of utter despair on the other's, and... he didn't know how to comfort him. Not this time.

Shiro winced as the hairstylist continued talking. Talking, and hiccuping, and choking back his sobs.

Accident. Tripped.

Kazu was still spouting the same story, and Shiro wondered who he was trying to convince at this point.

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

Kazu grabbed the yellow pants again, scrubbing at the spot. Maybe if he kept trying it would come out, maybe…! His hands were shaking, so his motions were getting less and less controlled and more frantic. Water splashed out of the sink, but he didn’t even notice. 

He let out a cry of frustration and put his face in his hands, trying to slow his breathing. At this rate he was going to get caught. Everyone would hate him for the horrible thing that he did, and he would deserve it, and he would die a horrible death… Shakily he looked up and at his reflection in the mirror.

'Murderer.' 

That’s when he realized he had started crying again. He looked horrendous, with evidence of eye makeup smeared everywhere and red splotches from his gratuitous sobbing earlier… 

"I… didn’t want to… I panicked…." Kazu murmured. 

'I'll die. I'll die and everyone will be glad, and they'll hope it's slow and painful. I'll die and no one will miss me.' Breathe. Breathe. Despair etched onto his features, Kazu grabbed the ripped pink pants and started scrubbing again. At this point you couldn’t even see where the blood had been on that pair, but he didn’t realize that- he could still see his guilt. ‘But I don’t want to die anymore… not like this!’

He felt lightheaded and weak, and his stomach twisted. He could still see the look on his face… hear the muffled screams…. feel the struggling and weak attempts to fight back… Kazu clutched at his chest; it hurt, it hurt so bad, why did he do that? How could he do that?

The hairstylist’s knees started to give out under him, and he collapsed to the floor, doubling over and twisting his hands tightly in his hair. 

No, no, no. Don’t remember, don’t remember…! His body started to shake as his crying became sobbing once again, his forehead pressed against the tile floor. Breathe, he had to breathe, he couldn’t breathe…

'Akira couldn't breathe either.'

[shslmaskedhitman]

After grabbing some water for Kazu and excusing himself, Shiro quickly left, ignoring the confused and worried look that Ren sent after him.

'H-He couldn't have...He said it was an accident...!'

Then... he lied.

As much as he didn't want to believe that, Shiro couldn't ignore the warning bells going off in his head. The pants, the blood, Kazu's behavoir... it all made sense.

And Kazu had lied to his face. Shiro paused, anxiously rubbing at the side of his mask.

Liars were dangerous. Murderers were dangerous.

Wouldn't that make him dangerous as well though?

Shiro shook his head, quickly resuming his walk to Kazu's room. Once he was standing outside the door, however, he paused again. 'What... do I do?' Akira had been killed, he'd... but... at the same time, it was Kazu. Shiro sucked in a breath, then reached out to open the door that stood between him and the hairstylist. "Kazu--"

Whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips when he laid eyes upon the scene in front of him.

'What?'

Kazu was a crumpled mess, laying and crying on the floor of the bathroom. The door had been left open, so Shiro could see him, and he could hear the boy's hysterical sobbing from where he stood.

Immediately, the hitman put the water aside and rushed over to the hairstylist. "K-Kazu, what happened?!"

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

"But…" The corners of Kazu’s lips twitched, and it was hard to tell if he was trying to offer a smile or trying not to cry. Maybe it was both. "…You promise you’ll come back…?" He looked down at his feet, biting his lip. "Thank you…" He was scared.

What if Shiro didn’t come back?

What if Shiro suspected?

What if Shiro was telling everyone how weird he was acting?

What if Shiro just didn’t want to deal with an emotional basketcase like him any more? 

What if he got caught?

What if what if what if

After Shiro left, he started to shake again, blinking back tears. Damn it, how weak was he? Kazu looked dismally at the spot of blood on his pants, then quickly took them off. Sure enough, the blood had soaked through the bandages he had hastily wrapped around his leg… His gaze glanced to the other marks, the ones that Shiro had assumed this injury had a shared cause with, and felt a pang. Of guilt, definitely. Why had such worthless garbage as him been allowed to end Akira’s life? Why hadn’t he died instead? 'After all… I deserve it… especially now.'

Kazu pressed his hand tightly over his mouth, choking back the sobs that were threatening to come back. No, no, no… He didn’t want to die, not now, not how that Bear would do it… and not hated by everyone.

After a few moments the hairstylist had somewhat composed himself again. He reached into the top drawer of his desk, where he had put more bandages after the… accident… and unwrapped the ones he had on already. He grimaced at the mark left there- it was still oozing blood, and probably needed stitches. Not that he could show it to anyone to ask for some. Carefully, he wrapped the clean bandages around his thigh, and fished through his closet for a different pair of pants. Dark ones.

The black jeans he tugged on now weren’t as colorful as what he usually wore, but the blood wouldn’t show through even if it went through the bandage again. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen.

Still favoring his injured leg, Kazu grabbed the yellow pants out of the floor and moved into the bathroom, filling the sink with warm, soapy water. He began to scrub at the spot, slowly at first but quickly growing frantic. It wasn’t coming out. You could see it.

He stopped suddenly. Why hadn’t he done that with the first pair, the ripped ones? Kazu dropped the pants in his hands and hurried to the closet despite the protests from his injury, nearly tripping in his effort to get there. Why had he shown Shiro? Why hadn’t he just destroyed them? Or let Shiro think what he was going to think? 'Why?!'

Grabbing the ripped pants. Staggering back to the sink. Submerge. Scrub. Scrub harder. Faster. 

No use. 

Kazu was breathing heavily now, starting to panic. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner?! 

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro quickly made his way towards the kitchen. Once he'd arrived, he headed over towards the refridgerator. However, before he could open it...

"Shiro-san? What are you doing in here?"

The hitman blinked, turning his head.

Ren was standing in the doorway, looking a bit surprised to see him. He seemed to be holding something in one of his hands...

"Oh, hey." Shiro turned around fully to face the floriculturist. "I was just getting some water, but... uh..." He rubbed at the side of his mask. "How're you doing with, um... Have you guys made any progress?"

"Ah, yes!" Ren walked over to the taller boy, and held out his hand.

Shiro blinked. "Scissors...?"

Ren nodded. "I found them under Hisakawa-san's bed... They're covered in blood."

"But... wasn't Akira, um..."

Again, the kimono-clad boy nodded. "Yes. We're assuming he used these in defense against his... ah... his murderer." Ren reached out with his other hand. "There's also..." He tugged at what seemed to be a pink thread stuck in the screw of the scissors. "This. So, we've assumed that the murderer was wearing something pink, and... ah, Shiro-san?"

Shiro had suddenly frozen up. Behind his mask, his eyes had widened.

Wearing something pink.

Kazu's pants.

The blood.

'No... there's no way...!' He stomach twisted. He felt sick.

"Shiro-san?" Ren tilted his head. "Is something wrong?"

"Ah..." Shiro blinked. "N-No... I'm fine... It's nothing..." He waved off the concered look the younger boy gave him with a nervous laugh. "Really, it's nothing! I just... need to get back to Kazu, he... needed some water... and I..."

[shsl-hair-stylist-archive]

Kazu didn’t move, aside from tightening his grip slightly when Shiro kissed his head. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, still and quiet. 

He lied to Shiro… first he murdered Akira, then he lied about it. Why? 'Because I'm a damn coward, I'm to scared…' He sniffed, and only then did he realize that his throat and chest were really tight again. Kazu pushed back a little and went to rise to his feet, wanting to get away before he lost control again. “I… I’m going to get… some water.” He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, looking away from Shiro, hopefully before the other saw the tears filling his eyes again. 

[shslmaskedhitman]

Shiro sat there, holding Kazu, wondering what he should do now. He needed to check and see if the others had made any progress with the investigation. He should also probably be helping with the investigation as well, but...

Kazu moved, pulling away, and Shiro snapped out of his thoughts with a blink. "Kazu?" The hairstylist went to stand, murmuring something about water.

Shiro caught a glimspe of the blood on the other's jeans as he stood. "Ah, no!" He shook his head, quickly moving to stand as well. "I can get for you." Shiro offered his boyfriend a smile, then moved to grab his mask. "I mean... Your leg hurts, right? So, you probably shouldn't walk on it..."

He slipped on his mask, then made his way over to the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"