𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔪𝔫𝔢𝔡.

Rosyln

Shoko wasn't surprised.

The longer she stared at her computer screen the better she begins to piece it together. Her eyes were hooded yet examining every pixel. Her face was blank yet her mind was swimming with ideas and possibilities that could've happened.

Have you gone down that path?

Have you been pushed into the darkness?

Were you another Suguru?

Her lips were pursed together—only separated by the cigarette hanging between them— as she kept staring at her screen, her hand resting on her mouse. Her posture was slouched, unusually, since she's normally sitting upright in her chair the way she should be. She inhaled slowly, letting the smoke fill her lungs and release the stress from her system before she blew it out through her nose in a deep sigh.

She knows it's not confirmed—the theories are going around, the accusations are being made—but she knows. She knows even though there's no proof to show. She knows you killed those people.

That building was still on fire—a window and another sorcerer had to come to escort everyone out so they could put up a veil. Her heart sinks at how convenient it was—a building caught on fire and close to 60 people dead just 2 weeks after you left. She can't believe it when her mind circles back to the revelation again and again— because that's the same body of the person who was sitting so awkwardly in her chair just a year ago, now a murderer.

She wishes there was something better she could've done. Maybe you wouldn't have gone off to turn into another Suguru. The thought of things ending for you the way they ended for him makes her heart wrench, and she knows exactly who it would be ended by. She doesn't dare say it or even think it, lest the dormant tear in her eyelid roll down her pale cheek.
The door swings open, pulling her attention from her screen and to the students standing in the doorway.

Yuji and Maki stood there with Nobara's arms over their shoulders, her body limp as she barely held it up. Shoko mainly paid attention to Maki; her sunken eyes and her pale face didn't go unnoticed by Shoko's familiar gaze. She sees it all—the slump of her usually strong shoulders, the crescents under her eyes, the red tint to them, the glare. She sees it and knows it better than anyone—except for you.

"Nobara sprained her ankle during our group run," Maki swallows in her dry throat, the moisture leaving the gums of her mouth for them to dry up in the cold air. Shoko raises her disappointed brows and gets up reluctantly after switching tabs on her monitor.

"Up, on the table," Shoko tilts her head to the mortuary table while she opens up a glass cabinet door, pulling out blue rubber gloves while Maki and Yuji stand there idly.

Shoko strolls over to Nobara sitting on the table with her legs extended. She glanced down at her right ankle; it was quick, but it looked swollen to her so she didn't bother examining it like she normally would.

Her nimble fingers gently massage the skin and her muscle, earning a hiss from Nobara as Shoko presses down on a spot. She sighs, stepping away and floating over to the freezer to take out an ice pack.

"Don't put any weight on it, don't run, just take it easy on your ankle," she hands Nobara the pack in her idle hand, Nobara gazing up at the indifferent look on Shoko's face as she moves back to her desk. The three teenagers noticed her attitude was a bit off, as she'd normally be a little more spunky about it. But her eyes held little to no light in them even in the glow of her screen.

The two of them helped Nobara up from the table, the ice pack carefully balanced on her shoe as she hops back down the hallway. Maki shuts the door, leaving Shoko to her feelings once again as her hooded eyes lazily scan her computer.