The world we knew (over and over)

1

The world has completely torn apart, and it was ALL. HER. FAULT. Her actions brought her worst fantasies to life. Riots tore down cities, murder stained the streets (both literally and metaphorically), and mass suicides became nothing to headline. Blackmail became a daily currency, driving people to madness and despair. Y'know, her favorite. I kept telling myself any minute I would wake up from this nightmare. The parades of riots didn't even faze me anymore. I've seen more corpses than I ever wanted to. Any age, it didn't matter. The world has fallen into a state of pure misery, and it was all Junko's fault. I knew it. She never lied about her involvement and I was there to see parts of her plan unfold.

Despite everything, her frantic pounding on my dorm room door at 2 am spoke volumes. Those sharp knocks echoed throughout the hallway, stirring up a mix of apprehension and curiosity within me. Was she regretting her actions and planned to repent? The tensity behind each knock said something was wrong. I hesitated before opening, knowing instinctively it was her. No one else would bother me at a time like this. Half asleep still, I had to think if answering was even worth it. Honestly, I just wanted to sleep. When I finally swung the door open, she didn't say a word, but her wide eyes and trembling hands had a glimpse of the storm raging within. In that moment, the weight of her actions hung heavy in the air, unspoken yet obvious between us. I had a split second where I thought I could tell it was her signature Oscar nominated fake sobbing, until I noticed it. She was playing with her nails in the few seconds of silence. Something she only did when genuinely nervous. Holding back any of my well known sarcasm, I nudged her in and shut the door.

"What happened to you?" I crossed my arms and leaned on the door as Junko sat on the bed. Shaking from her crying, she had to gulp before explaining. Even with that, I couldn't be sure if it was completely real. "They're catching onto me, Yasuke." Her voice echoed her anxiety like it was shivering along with her. "Who?" I asked when I already knew the answer. Actually, it was a miracle she went on so long without anyone linking her to the countless pieces that ended the world. How long has it been again? I couldn't even remember. Logically, I knew this has only been happening for about 6 months, but it all blurred together at some point. Still, it was sickeningly impressive no one singled her out, much less stopped this sooner. Now someone has been noting her. I already knew that. Of course, I did. I'm the one they asked to talk to her.

"Everyone - the school, cops! They're gonna come after me and kill me!! This can't be happening..." Her claims would sound ridiculous and overdramatic if it weren't for the conversation I had earlier. Something I probably should've warned her about. Then again, she would randomly bring up how her dreams might get crushed eventually. All this hard work put into ruining life as we know it - suddenly getting crumbled - would be a dream for her. The despair of that would surely entertain her... for a bit anyway. Wasn't this what she wanted? I couldn't ever understand what she wanted from me. "Oh yeah. I can already see the headlines: 'Local Drama Queen Evades Capture Yet Again.' Maybe they'll make a trashy anime about you if you're lucky." I decided to poke fun at her. None of this had a correct answer. She always knew how to keep me on my toes. "This is serious! Don't play dumb. I know you were asked to interrogate me." Time seemed to stop when she said that. The hurt behind it made the surprise burn that much more. All I could do in response was ask the obvious. "...How did you know about that?"

She crossed her arms with an angry sigh as if she was letting some of the smoke out from her internal fire. The thing with Junko was that I could deal with all of her emotions and craziness. All the facades and changes in demeanor meant nothing. Everything was her playing up a side of herself or just joking around, but when she became angry, that was when things became terrifying. When she felt rage, she truly felt it. Deep down into her soul, she had the purest form of wrath like it was there to make up for her other feelings. When she showed that part of herself, I always felt like it was my fault. "That doesn't matter. Why were you keeping it from me? Why do you always lie to me about these things? You're terrible! You're not even taking me seriously!" I had to do something before it got worse. Quickly!