"Your families are on the line this time, you bastards! Kill a classmate, and they’ll be safe, waiting for you after your graduation! However, if you lot decide not to kill anyone, then… Upupupu! You can kiss your dear relatives goodbye!"
Shiro’s fingers trembled as they moved, typing out something onto the phone. After a few seconds, he laid the cellphone on his bed with a shaky sigh. He rubbed the side of his face, frowning, then reached for his mask. After slipping it on, Shiro stood. 'This… isn't a good idea…' The faces of his siblings flashed across his mind. ‘Shuichi… wouldn’t want me to… Shuichi…’ His fingers twitched, and he moved to leave the room.
He glanced down the hallway, then, with no destination in mind, began walking. He needed… to think this over. He needed to just calm down, and to think about what he was actually considering. Could he even trust that the bear would keep it’s word? His head throbbed painfully, and he felt a dizzy, and he just didn’t know what to do, and—
The hitman startled, looking up in surprise. He had… apparently walked into the school’s kitchen, and Akira stood a few feet away. The boy was holding his stuffed rabbit, as usual, in one hand, and had a glass of water in his other. He was looking at Shiro now, a look of confusion and worry on his face.
"Are you… okay? You, um…"
"Akira…?" Shiro blinked slowly. Akira was… small. Fragile. Weak. He shook his head. 'No… no, I can't…' Akira… or Shuichi? Akira, or Keiji? Akira, or Miyoko? Akira, or Saburo? Akira… or Matsujo? Shiro’s fingers twitched.
"Shiro? Y-You’re acting kind of… weird…" Akira put his drink down, glancing nervously at the hitman.
"Ah, I am…?" Shiro murmured, sounding a bit dazed.
"Do you need me to… um, I can go get… Kazu?"
The boy went to walk by him, to leave, but Shiro caught him by his shoulder. “No!” Akira flinched, and, seeing that, Shiro let go of his shoulder. “Ah, s-sorry.” He reached up to pat the boy’s head. “I’m sorry…”
Akira blinked, then yelped when the hitman suddenly pulled at his hair roughly. “Sh-Shiro…?!” The taller male jerked his hair, and threw him across the room. Akira hit one of the counters with another yelp, and slid to the ground, trembling. “Wh… What…”
Shiro ignored the boy’s pained whimpering, and glanced around the room. He needed a knife, or something. He’d carelessly left his room without bringing along a weapon. “Dammit…!”Akira looked up, teary-eyed. He was still shaking, clinging tightly to his stuffed rabbit. What… had he done? Was Shiro mad at him? Why…? “I-I…” Shiro wasn’t paying him any attention now though. He was looking around the room for something. Akira’s eyes darted towards the exit. 'Ah…!' He stood, as fast as he could, and made a break for it.
"Huh?" Shiro blinked. 'He's…!' His hand shot out, grabbing the boy by the arm, and he twisted the thin appendage roughly. A loud crack made both of them freeze. The stuffed rabbit slipped from Akira’s arms as he screamed, trying to pull away from Shiro. The hitman let him go, and the smaller boy immediately crumpled to the ground, sobbing. “I didn’t…” Akira tried to move away, and Shiro instinctively shot out his leg. His foot slammed against the boy’s chest, sending him to the ground, sprawled out on his back. “No! You… need to stay still.” Shiro pressed his foot down onto Akira’s chest, earning another pained whimper from the boy.
Akira hiccuped through his sobs, looking fearfully up at the hitman. “W… Why…”
"I… can’t risk it," the hitman murmured shakily, "If they get hurt, it’ll be my fault… And, I can’t…!" Shiro pressed his foot down harder, squeezing his eyes shut as the boy’s ribs cracked underneath the pressure. Akira screamed.
Shiro winced at the boy’s yells, bringing his foot up to slam roughly against his rib cage. Akira coughed painfully, and… was that blood? Shiro felt sick.
"Pl… Please…" Akira wheezed. It was getting harder to breathe. His eyes widened when the hitman went to raise his foot again. 'No…!' Shiro brought his foot down, and Akira let out another scream.
Finally, Shiro moved away from the boy, removing his foot from the younger’s chest. Akira tried to curl up, sobbing and wheezing. 'Now, I need…' Shiro moved quickly, pulling one of the larger kitchen knives from one of the drawers. He looked back towards Akira, hesitated for a second, then headed back over to injured. He knelt down next to him, wincing when Akira flinched, and reached out to move his head a little. “I’m sorry…” Before the boy could respond, Shiro reached out with the knife, quickly slitting Akira’s throat. Akira’s eyes widened, then dulled, and his trembling finally stopped.
Shiro released the knife, letting it clatter to the ground beside Akira, and stood. He went to leave, but paused, looking back over towards the counters. Narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, Shiro walked back over. There was a rolling pin, laying neatly up against the wall. Shiro reached out, moving it slightly, but noticeably enough, then finally left the kitchen.
It didn’t take him long to reach his room. Shiro shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it, and moved further into his room. He pulled off his mask, tossing it onto a nearby table, and practically collapsed onto the bed. He stayed like that for a moment, laying face first on the bed, then turned onto his side. His phone was still there, laying a few inches away from him. Shiro grabbed it, turning it on. Numbly, he read over the last text message he had sent.
'Keiji, I don't know what to do…
