estoria | [open] And as you know I have a gigantic heart

Entry tags:

[open] And as you know I have a gigantic heart

Who: Rise Kujikawa and OPEN!
When: 7/19-7/23 (IC) aka event-time!
Where: Various prompts
What: It started with a goat. Then it all just went downhill from there. AKA Rise Kujikawa and the mysterious memories event.
Rating/Warning: N/A for now, will update if needed

[It started with a goat. Honestly, at first she thought that she'd dreamed it, that maybe it was just an extension of the white feathers she saw in her dreams recently but no. She wakes up and there sure is a wispy little goat at the foot of her bed. She stares…and the goat bleats flatly at her. It's a sad-looking thing, but as she tries to get closer it seems to disappear immediately.

Wow. That's weird.]

A.) is for Academy

[It's a normal school day. With everyone back from the dead and her worries a little more at ease, she can concentrate a little easier. It's quiet in the Study Hall period of the day and she's working on some homework when she spots the goat out of the corner of her eye…approaching a wastebasket. She hasn't realized it can't change much of the world around them, but she'll get that memo as soon as she gets up and stealthily tries to approach the animal.

Of course, the goat suddenly moves and it startles her and her arms suddenly pinwheel as she yells, trying to balance on her high heels so she doesn't bite the dust. Are you going to catch her? Let her fall? Fall with her? Sorry about all of that.]

B.) is for Bad Places Rise Shouldn't Wander

[This goat is seriously way more trouble than it's worth. She's not sure where it came from or why it's in such poor condition, but she's taken to following it around the colony to make sure it doesn't get too far out of her sight. It's for that reason she doesn't even realize she winds up right in the middle of the Pleasure District. The goat's paused, and if it's possible it gives her a knowing look despite its lack of real expression.

(Is it possible that this goat knows about her dungeon?)

She ends up in a staring contest with the goat, narrowing her eyes when she realizes she's standing in front of a love hotel.]

Don't even think about it. [She sure was talking to the goat, but it's not that hard to overhear her.]

C.) is for Cafe

[Everything is exhausting. She's sprawled over a chair almost ungracefully and that goat hovers around near her feet, but at least its not moving. On occasion, she'll be writing neat lines in a notebook and sipping her tea, though she frowning in concentration. There's an extra chair at her table though. Feel free to ask if you can join her or even be nosy about what she's doing, she won't mind.

On the other hand, if you're a friend or even someone she recognizes, she'll look up and smile brightly before pushing the chair out with her foot.]

Hey, over here!

D.) is for Dancing Games

[Sometimes Rise likes to play games. Sometimes Rise likes to use the game station to practice and when she gets bored of dancing in her room this is the next best thing. However, she's found at the game center today in front of one of the dancing games, and as she watches the colorful arrows fall across the screen she's continually missing and whines in frustration.]

Ugh, come on! This should be really easy! [And it would be…if she actually remembered how to dance. It's like all memories and coordination have left her and she's left trying really hard to fix that. Help her? Challenge her? Question her?]

E.) is for Everything Else!

[If you want to run into her while she's out shopping, at work as a model/karaoke star/tofu connoisseur, or if housemates want to do apartment shenanigans here you go!]

[ooc: ALSO if you have a preference on your type of memory please let me know! Otherwise I will be randomizing. Thank you!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He can't see that part, of course—and of course Rise can't see his fox, either, slowly limping over to the game setup to sniff at one of the pads a few feet away from her. Weirdo. Leon watches it go out of the corner of his eye, but right now he's a little more concerned about what Kujikawa's deal is . . . is she okay?]

Oookay, okay, I believe you! But I don't really get what else it could be . . . you okay?

I'm fine! [She's very flustered, actually, and she's even waving her hands as the game continues to announce that she's a loser.] I think this dumb game's just broken. Who do you think fixes these things anyway?

Probably some kinda robot. You ever notice how many of the jobs around here get done by robots? I mean, I guess it makes sense, since it's robots workin' on robots . . . they probably know the works of this kinda thing even better than a human would, right?

[He wanders closer to the machine to get a better look himself. Not that he knows anything about electronics, at least not any more than how to follow instructions and set up a TV or whatever, but he's curious anyway. Maybe it just needs to be kicked?

But as he closes the distance, his fox, shy as ever, skitters to the side . . . and directly into Rise's legs.]

It started with such promise: 1 AM in "his" bedroom, the dorm he'd been assigned to in this freaky hellhole, and he'd been awake in bed and not even trying to sleep when there'd been a gentle knock on his door and a note slipped under it. He can hear the footsteps already retreating down the hall as his own feet hit the floor and carry him over to the piece of paper lying there. Whoever it was didn't want to stick around. Huh . . .

Maybe that should have been suspicious, but as soon as Leon reads the note, the last thing on his mind is the whole murder game thing. (He's been trying not to think about that, anyway.) This is way, way more important than that. Maizono wants him to meet her in her room! Him! Maizono. Him and Maizono! In her room! Alone, at 1 AM. Come on, what else could that possibly be leading to?! He rushes into the bathroom to fix his hair, but she'd said five minutes; he doesn't have time to fuss too much. Besides, if this is going where he thinks it is, the work of seducing her is already done!

Then it's out the door and around the hallway to her room. The school is creepy, even in this particular hallway without the bolted-shut windows. The lighting is all wrong. He catches a glimpse of one of the mounted guns on the ceiling trained on the mouth of the hallway, near the laundry room, and turns his head away with a jerk and a grimace. What's the point in thinking about that now? This isn't about murder.

This is about sex.

And he goes on thinking that for a good couple of minutes even after Maizono opens the door for him. She's still in her uniform, and even though it's 1 in the morning, she's as perfectly pretty and poised as ever. Her makeup is still on, he notices. She smells sweet and floral; he catches it when she brushes past him to lead him to her bed. His eyes follow her hips and thighs and the creamy patch of skin between her skirt and her stockings. He'd be embarrassed about how he's already slightly turned on and she hasn't even touched him yet, hasn't made any move to kiss him, but why should he be? The girl knows what she wants, obviously. She wants him on the bed, and so he sits on the edge of it, leaning back on his hands and grinning up at her, gaze flicking between her eyes and her perfect lips.

She leans in, bracing herself on both hands on the bed, one to either side of him.

He has no reason to notice her right hand shifting off to the side to slip under her pillow, but he does, out of the corner of his eye, and that weird moment of hyperawareness saves his life. Maizono doesn't meet his lips. She doesn't crawl into his lap. Her hand darts under the pillow and comes out with a butcher knife, a huge one, blade catching the bedroom light as she brings it down in an arc right for his chest. Right for the heart.

He flings himself backward onto the bed for the first blow, and she misses, but he isn't going to be so lucky again if he just lies there—but he's on his back, he's under her, she has the upper hand in a very literal sense—the knife comes down again, and he throws himself to the side, gasping out her name. Breathlessly, at first, and then screaming it, because no one else will hear and he knows it, but she will, right? She'll stop, right? She can't possibly keep going. No one could do this to him. No one could look him in the eye and listen to him screaming and keep going.

She keeps going, bringing the knife down again and again against the mattress as Leon fumbles out of the way, until finally he's on the edge of the bed and can throw himself to the floor. That's it, right? That's it. He escaped, he thinks, it's over now. As if Maizono had used up her three strikes and now she was out and she couldn't just go back up to bat again. But this isn't a game, and there aren't any rules. Leon's dragging his way across the floor, scurrying for the table and the door on the other side of it, but he can hear the thunk-slide of the knife hitting the floor inches from his legs as he jerks them forward and out of the way.

It's still anybody's game. And he's still screaming, but he doesn't know what anymore; he knows he must be louder than the scrape-thunk of the knife tearing into the floorboards, but to him it sounds like background noise, the knife slicing through the air drowning out everything else in the room. Everything in his head, even.

He just needs to get to his feet, that's all. He'll be fine once he can get to his feet. And then, suddenly, he's not sure how, but he is. There's a table knocked over next to him; had he done that? He doesn't remember, but he's on his feet, and hallelujah, there's a sword on the bookshelf behind him, and he doesn't need to start thinking now of all times: he grabs it right-handed and swings at Maizono as she comes at him with the knife again, hard as he ever hit a ball in his life.

Please, God, let it stop.

And it does. He connects, and then Maizono's the one screaming, clutching at her wrist, the knife tumbling out of her hand and onto the floor. She stumbles away from him, eyes full of tears, and makes for the door.

He can feel sound rushing back into the world, and everything happening more quickly, like he's been watching a movie in slow motion for the past, god, how long did that take? An hour? Two? and someone finally walked in and said, hey, why're you doing that? and set the playback to normal. His blood is moving again, too-fast. He can hear himself breathing again, too-loud. Everything's happening less than it was, but in a moreso way.

And for fuck's sake, she just tried to murder him. She literally tried to kill him, with everything she had in herself. He's standing here alive and he almost wasn't. She wanted him not to be, she tried so hard for him to die in this room—

And she's walking out the door crying?! Like that never happened?!

God, what's she going to do now?! What does she think she's doing?! She almost killed him! She's a murderer! She's a murderer and she's just walking away and what the hell is he supposed to do, just go back to his room now and go to bed, having almost been fucking murdered by someone?!

She's almost to the door when Leon bends over, grabs the knife, and rushes her.

She was almost there, but not quite. She's close enough to the wall by the bathroom that when she throws herself to the side—ha, now it's her turn! see how she likes that!—the knife (his knife. Leon's knife) strikes the drywall instead, sending up a little shower of dust, which brings a frightened little cry out of her throat. But why? Why does she get to cry? Why does she get to make noises like that? She started this! She tried to kill him! You don't get to almost kill someone and then just walk away like nothing happened! He witnessed it; he survived! She's crazy! She could come at him again any time she wanted, and he might not be so lucky next time, right?! You can't just do that!

His knife strikes the wall over and over, leaving deep gouges in the paint, flaking off plaster, but she dodges every time. Finally she dodges right into the bathroom and slams the door.

And locks it, of course. He tries. Of course he tries, but of course the girls' bathrooms lock. God, fucking stupid, of course . . .

And now what? Now what does he do? She can't just do that. You can't be a person who lures someone to your room and pulls a knife on them and almost murders them for an hour, two hours, and then you just go into the bathroom for the night and everyone goes to sleep and the sun rises the next morning like everything's fine.

She can't.

What if he leaves and she follows him? What if she catches him on the way to breakfast tomorrow?

He can barely stand to turn his back on the bathroom door, but he finally does, darting out of the room and down the hall back to his own place. He almost trips looking back over his own shoulder. He's got the knife, sure, but she could still be right behind him. What else does she have stashed in there? What had even been the deal with that friggin' sword? She's in the bathroom, what if she's pulling out razors to use on him? But she's never behind him. Not this time. He makes it all the way back to his room, forces his toolkit open, pries out the screwdriver, and then sneaks his way—much more slowly—back to her bedroom.

He knows she's not going to be in the bathroom still, but she is.

He knows she's not going to just hide in there while he takes the door off its hinges, but she does.

He knows that once he gets inside, she's going to be armed with something—razors, right, or who fucking knows, she could even have a gun in there for all he figures, she's obviously prepared to commit murder—

He knows she's going to be armed and waiting for him and she's going to fight back.

But she doesn't.

And he knows this, all at once, as he stares at her pale helpless wide-eyed face watching him from the shower stall: it's her or Kanon. He could spare Maizono, the girl who had just invited him over and then tried to knife him in the chest, chased him with everything she had. Or he could kill her, and get out of here just like Monokuma told him he could, and save Kanon. He could escape this hell and find his family again. He wouldn't have to wonder anymore what had been done to them. He wouldn't have to sit here locked up in this fucking school and wait for the next person to put a knife in his chest or a bullet in his head.

All he would have to do would be to strike out with his right hand and bury the knife in her gut.

So he does.

[It happens so fast she doesn't quite know if it's even real. "Real" of course being someone's memory and she freezes in place as she watches the scene play out. She's experienced this level of connection with Yosuke already, the kind where she's trapped watching but also trapped understanding the feelings behind each action. She's not sure what's happening, truthfully. She's never been to one but she recognizes a boarding school when she sees one and it's with brief realization that she figures this must be Hope's Peak. Leon's never spoken much of the school, just that it was a school that prized talent.

And Leon, it seems, prized sex. That doesn't surprise her and for a moment she's only an observer. Who the hell is this girl he's so pumped up to see? Why is this happening? What is happening? Her chest twists in a weird sort of…jealousy, maybe? Nah, it's not jealousy. She doesn't have a reason to be jealous of someone she's never met. Leon's a typical teenage boy. But if she's getting a memory of him sleeping with some girl, she really, really doesn't want it.

…granted, the layout of the school is disconcerting and the memory she gets is far worse than she wanted. The girl, Maizono, (her surname, she's sure, since Leon has a tendency to address everyone that way) is pretty and perfect and delicate, almost as if she were an idol herself. But that'd be silly. And she watches for a moment before she lets out a gasp no one else can hear when the girl grabs a butcher knife and tries to drive it right into his chest.

The ensuing fight is painful to watch for someone like her who can empathize and feel things from other people. Leon's screams are echoing in her head as this girl's driven forward trying to kill him, she winces at the shatter of Maizono's wrist and she finds herself flinching over and over again at the sound of the blade cutting thin air.

When she enters the bathroom door, she's sure that's the end of the memory. That has to be, right? But it's not. It's not, and she finds herself trying to scream at Leon now to get him to stop. But of course it's a memory. Of course it's not something she can change and so she's stuck following his story, following him down the hall to where he gets a tool kit. She feels the fear and adrenaline gripping her the way it had for him, understands his thought process and even so she's hoping this outcome doesn't end the way she's beginning to understand.

Leon pries the door open and stares down at Maizono, the girl battered and holding her broken wrist to her chest. The need to escape and pursue are red flags to her and she understands his motivations too late. This couldn't have been the answer. She doesn't understand, and she can't even close her eyes before that knife drives into the pretty girl's stomach and blood blossoms around her front.

When she's kicked out of the memory it's to her own surprise that she's in near tears of shock and she can't even properly meet Leon's eyes.

This…was it. This was why he had suffered the way he had. He had done wrong first. She doesn't know why, doesn't understand what was happening, doesn't know what drove him to such stakes or why that girl had attacked first but what matters is that Leon had still delivered the final blow. And just like that, everything she's ever known about him changes drastically.

She can't even speak. But she tentatively tries to look at him even if she knows her entire expression betrays just how she feels.

'What the hell…?']

Whoa, Kujikawa, wha—

[Of course he hadn't seen the memory himself. He has no idea why she's looking at him like that. What had just happened? Shit, is she okay?! Leon takes in her expression, his own going open and concerned, and takes a step towards her, hand outstretched—

And then he's hit with a sharp, sickening wave of vertigo, out of absolutely nowhere. He stumbles, doubling over and clutching his head, one hand digging up into his hair like maybe he could pull a few strands out and make the sick feeling go away. What's going on?! Why now? Did it hit her too; is that why she'd looked at him like that?]

Nnnn—hhhh, hold on, shit, what's . . . y'okay? Ugh . . .

[And for the first time in the course of their friendship, when he takes a step toward her she instinctively steps back. She's not afraid of him, necessarily, but she's wary and confused and unsettled. She keeps her distance until he stumbles.

And also for the first time, she also doesn't know how to handle him. How to handle this. It's clear to her that it's like what had happened with Yosuke. A memory he doesn't know she's seen, the sick, dizzying sensation. She's felt it with people, too, when her goat's met people. And while a big, big part of her wants to bolt, to question and try to understand…a bigger part, the more fundamental part of who she is as a person can't push down the need to help him and take care of him. He's still someone she's cared for even if this is now something much, much larger than she ever anticipated. It's funny…even when they had been sure Namatame was behind everything, she had been one to argue that everyone needed to calm down and they couldn't harm him. They had to take time to think straight.

She has to apply the same to him. She fixes him with a calm look, still more nervous than usual even as she steps forward tentatively, taking his hand to pry his fingers from his hair.]

It's going to hurt more if you do that. [Her voice shakes even if she doesn't want it to, and her eyes scan around the arcade. If he's sick, a place with loud noises and lights won't help.] Can you walk?

[In a way, she figures it'd also be best to question him somewhere private just in case things get ugly…but still somewhere visible. Ugh. She can't be second-guessing him now but…there are too many confusing pieces here. Who was Leon Kuwata?]

[He nods and immediately regrets moving his head, so he swallows hard and speaks instead:]

Yeah. Sorry . . .

[God, this is so embarrassing. How many times does he have to have some weird breakdown in front of her? And she's acting strangely; he's still caught up in trying not to throw up, so he's not being as observant as he could be right now, but he knows she is. Did he embarrass her or something? Shit.

He takes a few deep breaths, waiting for the nausea to subside. Thankfully, it's starting to. He even manages to blink his eyes open at her and offer a wavery smile.]

This's so embarrassing. You pissed at me? Heh . . . s, sorry. I just gotta get outta here . . . sit down somewhere.

[Leon just don't throw up on her and she can probably handle anything right now. It's easy for her to switch to a no-nonsense kind of serious mode, the kind she'd had when she first moved to Inaba and wanted people to leave her alone. Where she would normally lead him by the fingers or hand, she lets go and gestures for him to follow her. The smile's only partially returned, though it's still one tinged with discomfort.]

Come on. There're some tables outside we can sit at. Do you need anything? We can probably get some water from somewhere…[She's mostly thinking to herself to keep herself calm. She's also not answering the question. She's not pissed. She's…well. She doesn't know yet.]

[He shakes his head, and this time regrets it less. Good. The feeling's starting to fade; he's not better better, but he's climbing his way up to functional. Now it feels more like he just got spun around by a carnival ride a bit rather than feeling like he might need to go to the hospital.

He follows her, still rubbing his face and frowning. More and more frowning, as they walk. Is she that worried about him . . . ? She's definitely acting odd . . . ]

I just need a minute.—I dunno what's going on. Maybe this is 'cuz of that stuff in the sewers . . . maybe it's hitting me late?

Yeah. Maybe. [Her voice sounds a little far away as she leads them to a table outside of the arcade, still in eyesight of people but enough that they won't be right out in the open.] Some people were still feeling things for days after they came back.

[It's not that. She reaches the table and she stares at him, taking a seat and waiting for him to do the same. When he joins her, she still doesn't speak even as she rests her gaze on him, hands propping her chin up as she regards him carefully. Finally, quietly, she says:] …you would never lie to me, would you?

. . . Huh?

[What? He blinks at her, still rubbing his hand through his hair and trying to deep-breathe away the last of the vertigo. It's persisting, but he can think through it. Or—he thinks he can, anyway. But that question, her demeanor, it feels like it's out of left field.

His heart picks up, and he swallows, brow furrowing. She'd found something out. What did he do? What did she find out? Who told her? His brain casts around for anything—]

I, I wouldn't. 'Course I wouldn't . . . why? What?

[Does she want to confront him right now? No, of course not. But…she can't let this continue. She can't keep this up without understanding, without really knowing who he is, what had happened, all of those things. She's apologetic but firm in her question, keeping her gaze level.]

I need you to tell me the truth. Who's Maizono-san?

[While she's so focused on Leon, her goat trots along on unsteady, uneven legs, heading for their table. It still has a little ways to go, but with Rise in-sight it seems to be okay.]

What?

[Sure, in his panicked mental grasping for whatever she might be upset about, he'd touched that possibility. But only two people in the colony could have told her about Maizono—or maybe she'd snooped around in his place, somehow, gone into that one drawer, but no, her name isn't associated with any of that—

His mind flits to everything at once, every thought blending together into a dull, ugly, hard buzzing in his ears that he can barely hear his own voice over. His face goes chalky pale, eyes wide and panicked.]

Wh, what? H, who? How—Kujikawa—no? I, I mean. How did, please. Please please please, no, why?!

[Oh no. Oh no, this wasn't what she'd pictured.

(But then again, what was she expecting?) She quick to move forward to cover his hands with her, mostly to ground him and also make sure he doesn't leave and she hates this. She hates being suspicious of him but she hates that he's so distraught. She should have thought this over better and it just affirms that this was so recent to him.]

Leon, Leon, it's okay! It's okay…[It's not. It's really not and this makes it worse and they're a mess, aren't they? They're a goddamn mess.] I don't--do you have an animal? Has there been something following you for the last few days? That's why…["That's why I know" goes unsaid. How can she make him feel better about this being the second time she's seen memories of his he isn't privy to?]

[He doesn't know what's worse: the possibility that she knows, or her comforting him over it when he loses his shit. What a fucking embarrassment. But it's so hard, it's so hard to think, just like it had been back then. The memory of his trial is a blur to him—accusing faces, facts stacking up against him, and him not being able to do anything about it. Not being able to think or speak in his own defense, lashing out however he could, attacking nothing at all because he couldn't hold it together enough to change things.

And now this: she says things, and they fling themselves at his brain and stick there like it's a ball of glue, and he can't pry them off to put them together and make them make sense in his head. She knows who Maizono is. But it's okay. She knows about the fox thing, but what does that have to do with it? She'd told him not to lie, so she must know-know, and he doesn't know how she could, but then she'd said it was okay? That isn't possible! And the fox—

Why can't he just turn off? So many of the people he knows feel like they have switches inside of them that they can just turn on and off, effortlessly, and that's how they get things done. They can figure out what's confusing them with just a flick. They can turn down their feelings easy as anything. Why isn't he like that? Is something wrong with him?

He'd managed it during the trip down in the sewers, some, but he can't now.

Slowly, he drops his forehead down to thunk against the table, his hands balled into fists under her fingers.]

. . . Just tell me. Just tell me, please . . .

[Just tell me all the answers.

And then, after a long pause, he finally manages:]

. . . It's a fox.

[There's...a very long, quiet pause. She doesn't move her hands and she doesn't speak, simply looking at the top of his head both in confusion and also worry. That reaction still scared her and now she has to wonder the best way to go about this.

It sort of reminds her of the desperation and anger that came from Yosuke that night in Namatame's room, screaming so loud about the injustice of everything. Or even Kanji when he's really riled up. But there's something more...fragile isn't the word she'd use. Never to his face at least. But she's afraid she's broken him by asking in her pursuit of the truth.

She's missing pieces. She knows of the murder now, and she knows of his death, but how point A got to point B is still lost on her.]

...a lot of people in the city have animals following them. Foxes, cats, birds and goats. [Her goat makes a noise from under her chair, but she ignores it.] Somehow they're tied to us. When they touch another person, that person sees one of your memories. [She takes a deep breath then.] ...I saw what happened that night. With Maizono-san and the knife.

[...she won't push, but she's leaving him room to explain to her. She doesn't know the rules of Hope's Peak, doesn't know the full circumstances...but there had to be another way, right?]

[For a long moment, he doesn't do anything. Maybe if he doesn't move, or speak, or think, time will just stop progressing, and things will never get any worse than this moment.

But then he swallows hard and nods, forehead rubbing against the plastic tabletop.

There's relief in it, too. She explained, and now he knows. It sounds stupid and insane and he can't believe his luck would be this bad—no, of course it is. It was always only a matter of time before everything got ruined. This place is like that . . .

But it's still a relief for the situation to have broken down into something he can understand, even if he hates it. It's finally something he can talk about. Hushed and dull-sounding, like some spark inside is taking a break for now and might not be back for a while, but he can say words.]

I don't . . . so, what d'you wanna hear? You probably saw the part that matters, right? You wanna hear about Hope's Peak? I don't wanna talk about that stuff in public . . . is it worth goin' somewhere else? Do you wanna know that bad? Or would you rather just—stop now?

[Stop. Stop them, stop talking to him.]

[Would it be easier to walk away and cut all ties now? Maybe. Maybe it would be safer to leave this behind knowing what Leon's capable of. But that's hypocritical and also completely unfair. They've come so far...it makes little sense for her to walk away now.

So. She stares before she speaks to the top of his head again.]

Your place or mine?

[His shoulder shake in a quiet, humorless laugh, and he finally lifts his head; his eyes are red-rimmed, though the tears haven't spilled over, yet. He lifts his hand to rub the heel of it over his eyes anyway.]

. . . If you come to mine, I can show you something. If you want. It's—it ain't—

[He takes a deep breath, hating himself for even having to say this.]

—I'd never . . . do anything. Got it? Even if you flipped out on me and ran and never talked to me again, that's nothin' like what happened back in Hope's Peak! I'm not a—

[Murderer.]

. . . I'm not.

[It sounds like a dumb move to go home with someone after what she's seen. But she's been to Leon's apartment before and this is stupid. She has to trust him. He...he said he wouldn't lie to her. And she believes him, believes he'd never really murder someone but...there was the evidence. There was the paranoia she felt that drove him to end what Maizono started.

But at the same time, the expression breaks her heart a little. She doesn't immediately say yes. But after a few moments she nods.]

You promise it'll be okay?

[He flinches and puts his head down on the table again for a moment. He can read between the lines. He hasn't felt that aimed at him in a long time—not since Fujisaki had come to the colony, seen Leon, and reacted with fear, as if he might whip out a knife at any second and go on a murder spree.

But he's not. He isn't! How do you make someone understand that? It's not like not wanting to be a baseball player anymore and changing his image, quitting the team.

What do you do when you don't want to be a killer anymore?

And why is it so easy sometimes, in a way that makes him feel sick and complicated, and like this other times, in a way that doesn't feel any better?

He finally tilts his head up to look at her again, peeking up through his bangs.]

I—I'll get on my knees for you, man, I swear. I swear!

[She has to give him the benefit of the doubt here. And she's being kind of stupid, she knows that. If he really was a killer he could have offed her at any point in their friendship.

This is Leon. This is her friend and she knows that part of being a friend is understanding the parts of your friends that're kinda scary and dark. So she meets his eyes carefully and shakes her head.]

That's not necessary. I believe you. [The pause is heavy despite that.] ...let's go back to your place. It'll be quieter than mine anyway.

[He sighs and nods, relief beginning to tinge his features. Usually when he "wins" something, he's all smiles . . . but this doesn't feel like much of a victory. Leon pulls himself to his feet and half-heartedly fusses with his hair to get it out of his face.

He may not be victorious, and his insides feel like a fuckin' mess right now, but there's a seed in his belly of something he never thought he'd have to fall back on when this happened: hope.]

. . . Thanks.

Kujikawa—I'd never let anything bad happen to you. Never! It's me who—I'm the one on trial again.

[In other words, he's ready for his life to end all over again, figuratively this time.

But first they've got to get to the courtroom. He pulls away from the table to trudge back in the direction of his apartment, head ducked and shoulders hunched.]

[She's up on her feet too, a little unsteady on her heels as she makes to follow after him. She's careful not to overcrowd him but also not fall too far behind, goat straggling after her.

She's heard him, of course. That he'd never let anything bad happen to her. And she knows that. She's known that since days ago when they were together in his apartment and he held her close and assured her that everything would be okay and that he'd do anything for her. She knows that.

But she knows she has to understand this huge part of him, too. The goat will silently follow the two of them back to his apartment and she's quiet the whole way there, awkwardly entering his place when he unlocks the door and carefully kicking off her shoes.]

...I know you wouldn't. [She finally says.] But what do you mean "again"?

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