chasing pavement

sidewalk dust and sprouting saplings haruka oshiro | seed bomber dead | alive dr oc | sod2 [icon and all deriatives of the same image is by casanovakevin]

[superduperikebana]

Send in a ☆ to see what my muses opinion of you is!

[shsl-meridian]

Haruka scurries over to her podium to input a vote for Nyk before hurrying back over to Kayoko.

Vote recorded! Yeehaw!

[shsl-meridian]

"Hey, hey, wait. Um. If we, like, get the mastermind RIGHT.. Hasekura doesn't have to die, right? Because like, we won? So why would he die?"

“Well…that is assuming you get it right, isn’t it?”

“And to play devil’s advocate…yes. If she’d had any…enhancements of that nature, I think it’s safe to say Sukimi-san would have died.”

[shsl-meridian]

Hear My Hydrangeas | Haruka | Chapter 8: Monotrial 001 [RE: Chiyo, Nyk]

After weeks of being trapped in Meridian; after days of being stuck in a murder game; after endless hours of being confined in her own head, Haruka felt confident in the few things she knew and the few things she did not. They were small, and few in number, and likely were not particularly ground breaking or life altering by any means, but there was something reassuring in at least having a handful of simple truths to be sure of.

1. Haruka Oshiro was not cut out to be someone who was calm, cool, and collected regardless of how hard she tried to be.

“Chiyo Chono don’t you fucking dare tell me the things I would or wouldn’t do!” 

The calm had been paper thin. It crinkled and crunched with each passing second, crumbling away with the momentary relief she’d found when Kayoko was saved, when they were told they got the right person for killer, when the mastermind trial went through.

It tore into itty bitty shreds with each new words spoken, and she knew there was only one thing to really replace it.

(She was tired. She was tired. She didn’t want this anymore, but what the hell else was she supposed to do?!)

The paper in her pocket crinkled when Haruka pulled Kayoko closer to her as a means of - what, exactly? Protecting her? Defending her? Or else, maybe, to solicit the same kind of comfort one gets from squeezing a stuffed animal when the night was particularly dark and everything was terrible in a very specific kind of way?

The paper in her pocket crinkled when Haruka pulled Kayoko closer to her, and if she were to bare her teeth and spit and hiss at the same time, it would certainly fit the picture nicely.

“And don’t you dare try and play some kind of messed up mind games, because I don’t buy it, because, like-!”

2. Haruka Oshiro had very little intention of ever going home again, but she refused to participant in a game of murder for another day.

When she looked towards Nyk, she released Kayoko from her arms only to put her hands gently over the shorter girl’s ears. Not for fear of Kayoko hearing anything she had to say, but she certainly didn’t deserve to have Haruka practically yelling in her ear.

“What’s the point of doing that?! Like, it’s a hidden room! And the computer had a password or something, didn’t it? Behind aaaaall that someone is going to pretend to be someone else?! And, and like! If they were pretending to be you, they super figured out how the hell to do that fast!How long have we been here? How long?! Because those logs went back weeks and we couldn’t, there’s no goddamn way we’ve been here any longer than those logs existed!”

A pause to consider before her hands slowly lowered, her arms wrapping around Kayoko again before she made an amendment to her previous point.

“I guess we could have been here longer, but those logs didn’t start before Monobear showed up, so it’s however long that’s been going on. And even if we were here before that, none of us remember any of that except for the mastermind and Chono anyways so that doesn’t matter!”

A shake of her head and she snapped her gum, her focus still on Nyk.

“And as for Sukimi being dead or not - if someone is a good enough shot, they can make sure they don’t kill someone too, yeah?”

A huff and she was done, turning her head to the side to blow a bubble and let it pop.

3. And Haruka Oshiro - her, she- She was tired of having to fight no matter where she wound up. 

[shsl-meridian]

Haruka approaches looking fairly serious and fairly on edge! Nonetheless, she asks to check your arms, sides, and legs for any sign of injury politely enough.

The mayor looks mildly perturbed. Ever-so-slightly miffed. A bit put off. Somewhat annoyed.

“I beg your pardon…? I think you’ll find it’s impossible for me to participate in all this.”

[shsl-meridian]

Sweetbrier Underfoot | Haruka | Chapter 8: Trial 004 [RE: Everyone]

If Haruka stared any harder, a hole was sure to burn straight through Kayoko. You’d think she was telling Haruka the secret to the universe, or the answers to every question Haruka had ever asked, or maybe she was just - the answer, the answer, the thing that would make sure Kayoko left the trial room alive-

That, for sure, had to be somewhere in what Kayoko told them, and Haruka would stare as hard as she had to for that information to be known to her.

It did evolve, eventually, into something a little blanker, a little glazed over, as her gears kept turning and she tried desperately to piece it together.

(I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m not cut out for solving mysteries.)

(It was painfully true, but hell if not knowing had ever stopped her from trying.)

When Kayoko held up her arms, Haruka resisted the impulse to tear Kayoko’s sleeves back down over her bruising wrists, instead tugging insistently at her own unrolled and bloodied sleeve.

Her head was down, and she listened.

And she listened.

And eventually - she scowled.

“I don’t think exposed arms is good enough. What if it grazed their side, not their arm? I think, like, I think we need to do a full check?”

Even as she spoke up against the minimal check, Haruka tugged her flannel off, dropping it on the floor beside her. Underneath she wore a loose tank top, her arms completely exposed. Twisting them this way and that, it was clear she didn’t have a single mark anywhere on her arms.

“And we should look for a bite mark too.” Hands on her hips, she nodded towards Isamu. “I don’t know how hard Kayoko bit them but like, it was proooobably hard enough to leave some kind of mark or else, like, what’s the use in biting at all. And like, a bite mark is definitely there if whoever did it didn’t somehow get shot.”

Leaving her top shirt on the ground, she took a few steps away from Kayoko’s podium as if ready to start walking.

“If nobody else wants to, I guess I can do individual checks if nobody wants to like, show their sides or something? Su…zume, um, she can check Hasekura and me too?”

She didn’t take another step however, despite her offer. She stood, head down, eyes on the floor again, scowling all the while-

She’d try.

“I don’t think that’s all right though. I think, like, I think… I don’t think Mei was dead when Suzu…me stabbed her. I think, um, I think maybe Mei, like, went after her thinking she was the killer, and she thought Mei was the killer grabbing her, but by that point Mei had already, like, been stabbed bad enough to die so it wasn’t any different for her to stab her but uh, like…”

An impatient tap of her foot and her scowl deepened.

“I don’t know, right, because getting stabbed through the heart totally sounds like you should die immediately but maybe not? Maybe there’s still a little time so then all of that totally could have happened but like, I don’t know how hearts work or whatever so, like-”

Her fingers pushed through her bangs, tore at the elastic pulling her hair back so a mess of pink knots were left tumbling down for her fingers to rake through.

“And, okay, like, Suzume do you, like, do you know when you got that blood all over you because if it was after then where’d, how, the gun was in the kitchen right but that blood splatter is…n’t? So how could a bullet do that if the gun was already dropped but-”

Her words were becoming a messy blur, she knew, she knew. She needed to slow down to make any sense but her voice carried on like an audible version of the chaos stirring in her brain.

“It doesn’t make sense because you’re way shorter than me but the blood splatter is my height so then where’d the blood on you come from if it isn’t from that and how’d it even happen unless maybe or no that doesn’t make sense but Mei had the cut on her ankle so wouldn’t that, maybe, or- If it was Mei’s imprint then where’d you get covered in blood like that from and why the same kind of cut on, on her ankle and her shoulder but the rest are- How many times did you stab her because there were so, so many more than-”

It was a gasp for air that shook her from her glazed eyed monologue. Looking around as if only now recognizing everyone else was still there, she took another breath before pulling her hair back into a ponytail and straightening back up.

She decided to keep her eyes on the floor; when she spoke, her voice was small.

“I’ll- I’ll do checks if… nobody else wants to.”

[shsl-meridian]

Overabundance of Aloe | Haruka | Chapter 8: Trial 003 [RE: Jinzae][ATTN: Kayoko]

She wanted to say something. She wanted to reply. She wanted to hiss her words and let her nose wrinkle in distaste, wanted to glare daggers at whoever had the misfortune of catching her eye first and explain exactly what did make sense.

But she didn’t-

have-

goddamn time-!

When her brain was already being tugged in ten different directions, where the hell was she supposed to get the time to be annoyed or hurt? What an absolute waste of her energy to focus on something as pitifully petty as that given the circumstances.

So instead her lips pressed a little tighter, her fingers curled a little closer, and her brow furrowed a little harder. The floor would remain her primary place to look even with the words being passed around the room.

Even with the words-!

The calm she’d found was as sturdy as the slip of paper tucked into her shirt pocket. A drop of water, a lick of flame, a jerk of your hands - paper was flimsy and weak, easily crumbled and wrinkled and torn and destroyed. Paper was fragile, and here she was, believing she could somehow protect whatever calm she grasped thanks to that very piece of paper.

What a joke.

“Don’t, don’t-”

Haruka’s fist squeezed down hard enough to hurt, but it was impossible to loosen her grip again - instead she dropped Kayoko’s fingers as if they’d burned her, as if their touch would leave welts behind and even if nobody could see them she could feel the impression of the inevitable scar tissue those burns would leave on the palm of her hand. Now caught in her other hand and held close to her heart, covered in tar and scars and riddled with holes of its own, Haruka hid her quickly scarring palm from the world.

Stepping back and looking horrified-

No. No. She didn’t move an inch, and her jaw was set even if her eyes played live feeds to the panic quickly festering in her brain.

It was for her own selfish sake when she tore her gaze away from Kayoko to instead nod along to the others’ words, and when she spoke next it was to the floor next to Kayoko’s podium rather than Kayoko herself.

“You don’t accidentally stab someone through the heart.”

It was - repressed. Void. Empty words since anything that held weight was dangerous now, and even if she flinched at the sound of her own voice she pushed to carry on.

“You just- you like, just, like, don’t. Unless you’re really super un- unlucky maybe. But that doesn’t-”

A shake of her head and she forced herself to actually look at Kayoko rather than the floor beside their feet.

“It doesn’t matter, because it’s- Hasekura is right. What weapon were you using? And, and how-” her hands dropped, her left hand reaching to brush lightly at Kayoko’s wrist when Haruka nearly whispered, “did that happen?”

[shsl-meridian]

Lavender Duel | Haruka | Chapter 8: Trial 002 [RE: Everyone]

It really was best to push the mastermind discussion until later. It was a point made every trial - focus on finding the murderer first, the mastermind second. It was kind of stupid, when she really thought about it, since by now wasn’t finding the mastermind the most important thing? Not that she didn’t care about finding who had killed Mei, that wasn’t it at all, but - the mastermind.

That was all she could safely focus on.

It could wait though. It could wait, and it would’ve waited if not for- Ugh.

There was something in the way her jaw tightened-

And her shoulders tensed-

And she winced and stared a hole through the ground-

But when she finally spoke, her words were not spat but instead grumbled with only a tinge of frustration.

“It’s not Butterscotch.”

Only then did she stop trying to discover what lay beneath the trial room’s floor and look at Chiyo. The look she passed was a quickly dying thing, living only as long as a heartbeat before Haruka turned towards Isamu.

That glance was just as short lived, however, when her thoughts were cut off by the sound of the approaching elevator instead.

It was a little embarrassing, in retrospect, how quickly her head whipped around to see who would exit through its doors. And once she saw - whatever calm she had managed to keep a feeble grasp on since entering the trial room started to shake.

“Su-? Nn- Kayo…ko-!”

A unsteady step forward.

And then another.

As always, there was very little hesitation on her part.

It didn’t take long for Haruka to make it to Kayoko’s side. Soon one of her rolled up sleeves was pulled down, the edge used to gently wipe off as much of the blood that stuck to Kayoko’s face as possible. Whatever Haruka murmured to her in the meantime was too quiet for anyone else to hear, what with the vast sea of space now left between the two sides of the room, but even just watching Haruka’s face betrayed whatever concern coated her voice.

When Haruka finally looked back towards the center of the podiums, her hand was wrapped tight around Kayoko’s own and her expression was back to something grim.

“Mei knew… a lot about the mastermind, yeah. Like, a lot. I don’t, um, I don’t think she really-”

This was getting off track. This was veering towards what should be at the end. It needed to go one after the other, murder first, mastermind second. She knew she had to stay focused or else-

“That’s, um, th-that’s not- If it has to do with that then, then it’d either be the mastermind or… or someone helping the mastermind, maybe? Otherwise like, why would anyone- So like, then-”

Breathe, breathe.

At the very least, breathing helped her words come out.

“I don’t think the mastermind did this. And if whoever did this did it because Mei knew a lot about the mastermind then, like, that person wants us to be stuck here forever I guess. Or, like, wants the mastermind to win or something. Whatever.”

With that, she chose to drop the subject and move on.

She looked now towards Nyk, gaze jumping between her and Isamu and only settling when she addressed the taller of the two.

“Uh, so… whyyyy do you think Mei was. Um. Pinned to the wall? Like, do you mean actually pinned or just the force of something pinned her there maybe? Like, Nakano, did you see anything that looked like anything was stuck in the wall maybe?”

It would seem she was ready to end there, to stop speaking long enough for one of the two to answer her questions, but a sudden shake of her head and a noise from the back of her throat played prelude to her opening her mouth once more.

“Or, no, okay, that doesn’t- The laptop, right? Wait no it- Whatever, whatever, whatever it was it was showing- So then, like, wouldn’t that-!”

The grip on Kayoko’s hand was almost certainly uncomfortable for the other girl by now. Actively loosening her clenched fingers, Haruka stopped speaking to instead stare tight lipped at the floor.

The fingers on her free hand stayed wrapped around her sleeve.

[shsl-meridian]

Lettuce Means “Never Give Up” and I Think That’s Beautiful | Haruka | Chapter 8: Trial 001 [RE: Isamu][ATTN: All]

When Haruka walked into the trial room, her head was held higher than it had in weeks. There was a sturdy confidence to the way she strode to her podium; if anyone saw her now, with that aura she had carried all those weeks ago back on her shoulders, they certainly wouldn’t guess she had been a mess of tears and sobs only a short while ago.

Well… beyond the puffy redness tears tended to leave behind still clinging to her eyes at least.

All the same, her spine was stacked straight and her expression was grim, and the look in her eyes was proof enough that she had no intention of being a stumbling mess two trials in a row.

“Okay, like, first of all? Nakano-” she paused long enough to give him a firm nod, “you’re like, totally right. That’s for later. But for right now-”

She looked around those who remained alive in their class, her gaze only wavering when she caught sight of Kayoko’s empty podium. Recovering quickly with a deep breath in, she finished her thought.

“We’re voting for a mastermind. I don’t care at all if you think we don’t have enough information, or if you’re worried or whatever about wasting a vote. We are voting. Because that’s what Mei wants, and she didn’t die just for everyone to be all stupid and scared about this! I am not coming to another damn trial in this stupid place, so if I have to take your hand and make you vote I will. We’re voting, and that’s, like, that.”

It seemed she was not budging on this particular point; trying to debate would end in - well, her tone suggested she wasn’t going to back down easily.

In her brief pause to switch gears, her hand moved as if to touch the headphones still slung around her neck - and then, perhaps thinking better of it due to the blood drying on her fingertips, instead brushed her fingers across the paper sticking out of her shirt pocket before dropping her hand onto her podium.

“But that, like, should wait too? The murder should come first I guess. So, um, yeah. It looks like Mei died from the stab wound to her heart. Like, obviously. I didn’t see any bullet wounds on her so then she probably had the gun the whole time? Unless she is like, super good at dodging bullets somehow? Or the other person just sucks at shooting people maybe. But, like, I suuuuper doubt anyone else had the gun except for Mei.”

Again she stopped speaking, this time looking as if she was considering something before carrying on.

“There’s more I guess but uh, for now I guess like, Nakano? Did the blood shape thing look like, my height maybe? Because me and Mei are the same height so like, if it was the same height as me then maybe? Oh but if it was Mei wouldn’t she have like… more blood on her? Maybe?”

She finished with a shrug, a way of saying I don’t know.

Apparently that was all she had to say for now.

[shsl-meridian]

A Multitude of Almond Flowers Bloom Between Us | Haruka | Chapter 8: Body

The world didn’t stop spinning.

The hours slipped by in a blurry stream of pseudo-consciousness regardless of what she did to try and find firm ground to stand on. She wrote; she worked; she sat and pondered and tried to understand the full depth of her reality, but if nothing else, Haruka didn’t lie when she wrote that mystery solving was not a talent of hers.

She could try - and she did, she really was trying to solve this, to put an end to everything, to do whatever it took to simply be able to walk out of Meridian and never look back-

(And maybe, maybe it was hard, to believe that when she walked out of her it wouldn’t have to be back to home, and maybe it was impossible to put faith in that, but she didn’t lie when she told someone she trusted them either.)

(Trust and promises - those, she knew, were not things she could every readily lie about.)

The world wouldn’t stop spinning.

Even when she moved towards her bed, made to stare at the mattress and stare at the floor and decide again tonight which one she would choose - even then, everything was shaky and trembling. Was it- was it that again? That feeling, that pressure behind her eyes that tried to tell her something was wrong but she was perhaps too blind or too naive or too hopeful to believe she’d have to feel that ever again - was that why everything felt like it was struggling through a fog?

Was it, perhaps, a call for another body and the knowledge that, perhaps, if things had gone differently, they would be long gone and there would be no need for a body - was that what called in the fog now?

She didn’t know. She didn’t know.

She took the necessary steps out of her room and wandered where she was commanded to go, because-

The world couldn’t stop spinning.

Not until it came to a grinding, shuttering halt that left her heart in her throat.

(She didn’t make promises lightly. She didn’t make promises lightly. She didn’t make those promises-)

There was nothing careful about the way Haruka moved then. No soft, unheard steps; no footfalls meant to evaporate into silence. Her feet feel hard and fast, because it didn’t take any particular amount of time for Haruka to understand exactly what she was seeing.

(Wasn’t it funny though, to remember for just one second how she and Mei had met. Wasn’t it funny though, to remember for just one second how Haruka had stormed and yelled over the notion of having to share her room!)

Knees met the ground too hard and left stinging pain behind, but she didn’t seem to mind. That frantic energy was back again, the same as a week before, but this time there was nowhere to run. There was nothing to do to pretend that maybe there was some hope that the image she was being shown was inaccurate.

Running and screaming had no place as being the release for panic when the proof was right in front of her eyes.

(Wasn’t it funny though, to remember for just one second how she had made Mei promise her that Mei would never kill anyone in this place - and how Mei had made Haruka promise in return.)

The tears, of course, didn’t hesitate. Gasps and sobs that shook her core, tears that blurred her vision all the more, and everything came spilling out hard enough to make her feel sick.

It was uncomfortably familiar now, to cry like that.

The familiarity didn’t make her hate it any less.

(Wasn’t it funny though, to remember for just one second how they had promised to leave this place alive.)

With one arm wrapped around her stomach, her free fingers reached forward to lace with Mei’s. She knew it was gross, and she knew she was dead, and she knew that by no means could Mei feel it at all - but small comforts were small comforts, and this would have to be hers.

Her tongue, all the while, lay dormant. There was nothing here she could say.

(Wasn’t it funny though, to remember for just one second the promise Haruka had made as a “just in case” - and how badly she had hoped it would stay a “just in case.”)

(Wasn’t it funny, wasn’t it funny, wasn’t it hilarious that at the end of it all, Haruka Oshiro would be crying over the death of her roommate.)

The world would never stop spinning at its usual pace no matter how hard she wished it would.

[shslseed]

howdy! as always, haruka's PERSONAL dorm is LOCKED! if you want in, you're gonna need to ask her

[shsl-meridian]

MONOFILE

Name: Izumi Meiki Time of Death: 9:45PM Location of Body: Picnic Area

[art by katie!]

[shsl-meridian]

White Heather | Haruka | Chapter 8: Execution + Motive

The execution - the execution.

Haruka watched it with a sense of distance, a far off removal from what was actually happening. Her eyes had hardly cracked open to watch two sisters run for their lives across rooftops, to watch the police chase them down - and there she grimaced, frowned, but she didn’t have much more to give by now - and finally, finally-

The pounding in her head made it too hard to try to understand exactly what she’d learned right then. It was easier, really, to shakily stand up, to put all her weight on a dead kid’s podium before pushing herself onto her own feet, and to shuffle forward next to Chiyo and make a beeline for the elevator.

Only briefly did she glance over to where Kayoko sobbed in Mei’s arms, and she decided something important before carrying on to the elevator:

Three was a crowd.

Her choker was gone, and that alone would normally make the world feel like it was spinning on a new tilt.

It was comparable to the sensation left behind when taking a pair of earrings out after wearing them for a long while; there was a familiar pressure and weight and presence that was now removed, that she could touch and be further aware of its absence. It wasn’t that she lost it - she knew exactly where her choker had gone - but it didn’t make it feel any less strange to not be able to put it on like always.

As a replacement, however, were a pair of headphones creating a new kind of weight on her neck.

They didn’t stop the world from spinning.

By now, absolutely nothing would.

The world kept on tipping regardless of how steady her legs were or how firmly she planted her feet on the dirt because once more she was stood in the town square to hear another motive. Another motive. Another motive, which meant another person to die, and another after them, and there was no real promise things would end after that.

No matter how much she could hope otherwise, all they had was uncertainty for where the end lay.

The new mayor advised them to check their keycards for videos, and it was easy to remember the last video she was made to watch in this exact place.

Hadn’t she, just days ago, written about that video after all?

What else could they possibly show her, what new horrific sight did they have in store, there was only one other person left she cared about who wasn’t already here-

But when the video played, when he started to speak, it wasn’t for fear of his life that Haruka couldn’t breath this time.

He was saying something, something, and the world spun.

There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t remember soft words and warm hands and cold nights and her wish that he had insisted she throw her invitation to Hope’s Peak Academy away.

(She wouldn’t have, she knew. If he had tried to persuade her to it would have made her want to go all the more, and then would it even be him in this video, or would she be seeing a different face now?)

(dust clings to the bottoms of their shoes)

Before, when she’d seen his face, it was battered and bruised with the promise of death waiting in the wings. It was assurance that she had no way of knowing what was happening at home - and even if she did, she had no way of controlling the results. She would have to hold that memory in her head every single day she stayed in Meridian, and every single day she would have to question whether he was even alive anymore.

On that day, she had cried her heart out in the middle of the city until she could drag herself to her feet and cry in her dorm instead.

(he leans over, forehead pressed to her shoulder.)

Now, when she saw his face, it was the way it should be. Healthy and alive, not a scratch on him. He could smile and frown and speak as clearly as ever, and when he nervously laughed his next words it was so true to him it hurt.

(”Didn’t I tell you I was going to miss you? I was right you know.”)

(And a choked response that he could not hear this time - “I know.” - and those words ached more than she could over openly admit.)

On this day when she cried, it was subdued. It was tears leaking out of her eyes to drip off the tip of her nose; it was muffled sniffles and a hand eventually covering her mouth, the other dropping loosely to her side. It was fingers brushing back her tears and bangs and eyes opening too wide when she tried to blink away her tears, and it was just one thought left behind:

How could she ever know if this was real at all?

(She didn’t know the world could spin this fast.)

[shsl-meridian]

Okay. Alright. Okay alright insert hey ya by outkast here Haruka's changing her vote BACK to Starre and the MM vote still stands.

Vote Recorded! Yeehaw!

[shsl-meridian]

Tear Away the Thorn Apple | Haruka | Monotheater [RE: Boy Howdy]

[shslseed]

shsl-meridian:

[CW: Suicidal ideation-ish. Not actually the intent but the middle bit gets kind of,]

Before the trial end, before the votes were tallied - something was pushed to the forefront of Haruka’s thoughts. Everything was tears and gasps, strands of pink caught between her fingers and shudders down her spine, and the last thing on her mind was having anything to do with this trial anymore, but, well.

It didn’t make much sense, did it. It didn’t make any sense at all in fact. It’d already been pointed out how impossible it was, but it was just - it was illogical. What’s the point of doing all this just to get everyone killed? What fathomable reason was there to do that? And she wanted to point it out, wanted to whip her head up and declare it for the class to hear, but-

Oh, that just wasn’t happening was it.

And Nyk’s words, Nyk’s explanation, well that - that alone pushed her to move, tears still streaming, silent hiccups causing her shoulders to jump, and vote for Starre once more.

And when all was said and done-

She couldn’t feel particularly proud for it being Starre all along. It was a bit redundant, wasn’t it? Not knowing how to feel about it all. It was too frequent of a sensation now for her to even care to consider it, and besides, there were more important matters at hand.

That being Starre completely losing it and threatening to blow the class sky high.

Haruka stared dumbly at the live grenade in Starre’s hand and wondered briefly how many packs of fruit gummies she’d have to eat before their effects knocked her out.

Not that she wanted to die. Oh god did she not want to die. What an absolute waste of all the time she spent so carefully monitoring herself, checking what she ate and how much she exercised and when she slept if she was going to die by royally screwing all those calculations over. It’d be a waste to die at all really, but like that? No thank you.

The fruit gummy idea was risky business and chances are that doing something like that - even if it didn’t kill her, the results wouldn’t be kind. But it was a possibility, right? A way to check out for the next few minutes or hours or, assuming the grenade did go off, at least she wouldn’t know she had died. It’d be one small mercy for herself.

She figured she deserved at least that much by this point.

Before she could move to dig into her backpack, however, or further think over the ramifications of shoving three packs of gummies down her throat and determine that was a terrible idea in fact - a hand was grabbing her arm and tugging her along. She tripped, stumbled, and then let whoever it was drag her along to wherever they wanted to go.

It didn’t particularly matter at the moment.

By the time they made it to Matsukaze’s podium, Haruka registered it was Chiyo. That… was better than it being whoever else, wasn’t it?

Sure.

She let Chiyo drag her down behind the podium as guns came out and threats passed through the air. 

And - oh. She was still crying? She’d hardly noticed, and paid it little attention to instead look over to Chiyo.

Was she - praying, maybe? She’d spoken about God earlier, right?

Haruka couldn’t really claim to know the guy. Didn’t quite want to know him either.

The elevator pinged open and Haruka watched as Starre - no, Starre was across the room with a grenade? She peeked her head around the podium to watch as Starre disarmed Starre, as Starre talked to Starre, as Starre revealed-

Haruka wouldn’t pretend to understand it. Not that Starre was two people - though that was certainly strange, certainly odd, certainly fitting of a place with clones and robots and teens being used as science experiments - but rather how the two sister’s could cling to each other in tears.

(If Sayako ever so much as tried-)

She didn’t get it. She didn’t want to get it. She was fine with feeling sick to her stomach by the mere notion of it.

The explanation of everything that happened that day didn’t make her feel any better.

Once - which one was speaking? God, she didn’t know, she didn’t care, what did it matter - Haruka withdrew to her place behind the podium. She leaned her pounding head back, faintly shocked that it was still somehow balanced on her shoulders. After all of that, after all of that - maybe it was a balloon on a string ready to snap, but somehow her head hadn’t quite fallen off yet. What a quiet surprise.

Closing her eyes, she interwove her fingers with Chiyo’s and squeezed. She took a breath and sighed the first words she had managed to croak out since this mess had started.

“Good riddance.”

The words tasted disgusting in her mouth, but she found she couldn’t find it in herself to care at all.

[shsl-meridian]

At SOME POINT, Haruka changes her vote to herself and a yes for the mastermind trial.

Vote recorded! Yeehaw!

[shsl-meridian]

Grow Woodworm with a Bottle of Tears | Haruka | Trial 005 [RE: Everything]

She didn’t want to listen anymore.

She didn’t want to hear any of it.

She didn’t want to be told where the evidence pointed, or how there was nothing solid proving Starre, or how Rover was-

If she never had to hear his name brought up during a trial ever again, by god it would be too soon.

And she knew regardless, didn’t she? Did they think she was stupid? Blinded by emotion or affection or something, it wasn’t like she ever forgot what Rover had done, that thought hadn’t magically flown from her head, and did anyone here really think that the second he was connected to all of this she didn’t know what that could mean?

But that didn’t mean-

Was it so bad-

Why couldn’t she just hope otherwise, why couldn’t she try to fight otherwise, why did this have to be the easy solution to them! 

With each word the other’s spoke, Haruka’s heart beat faster and her breath hitched. She stared down at her podium as if it was the only thing left in the world to see, as if it contained something new she could say or point out, some kind of evidence that showed without a doubt it wasn’t Rover who had done this and she could scrawl her words on paper and get someone else to speak for her and that would do something to change this!

Just don’t, don’t, there had to be something else-

(She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t she say as much often enough?)

Hadn’t she seen anything-

(She knew she hadn’t. She knew she’d shared her piece.)

Wasn’t there anything she could say-

(Weren’t the points already made of how it couldn’t be Rover? The chainsaw alone- and even Starre, Starre, goddamn Starre didn’t even think it was him-But how could she do anything, when it felt like the air was being sucked out of her and the drive to fight went with it?)

Air was coming in too fast now, and her fist came down on her podium with a loud bang.

Once. Twice. Three times, again and again in rapid fire and sending shock waves up her arm. If she couldn’t scream her disapproval, if she couldn’t shout to silence anyone, then this was the best she had and she didn’t care how quickly it started to hurt or how childish it seemed. 

(Why tell her he’s alive only to do this?! What do you gain?!)

They had made plans. They were meant to go to the movies, or a haunted house, or somewhere that when they hugged neither one of them was allowed to cry. They were supposed to be able to laugh until their stomachs hurt. They could be uncertain for where they were going or what the future really held because they were only kids, and they knew it.

There was that unspoken promise that they could do anything one day because they’d both make it home alive.

(Don’t say it was all for nothing. Don’t say it’s truly impossible now. Don’t take that away again, don’t make her give that up, don’t rip it from her fingertips when she’d just gotten it back don’t don’t don’t don’t she couldn’t stand it-)

Once, twice, and her movements were slower now, shakier now. Her arm trembled when her fist slowly came down to rest on her podium, fingers splayed out to lay flat on its surface before she was sinking, face catching in her hands only for them to keep slipping, slipping, fingers in her bangs and pushing them back and there was only a flash of her face before her head was on her podium and her arms were covering her, as if that would somehow change the way things were, as if she could skip the trial and come back when things were easier, when things weren’t like this.

(Don’t make her have to choose.)

The way her back shuddered was indiscernible.

(Tell her what to do.)

There was nothing she could say anymore. 

(Please don’t take him from her again.)

She knew it.

(Please don’t.)