Demise Game

1. the book of demise

Ten years ago, a group of students had been brutally murdered — it was said to have been caused by the Bookmark of Demise.  This was the urban legend passed down throughout the small school of Tokiwadai.

        All urban legends have at least a modicum of truth within them, though, and this one was no different.

        Only it would be too late by the time you realized just how much of it really was the truth, as history tends to repeat itself when it isn't heeded.

        And thus, the wheels of fate turn once more.
__________________________
        "—en..... list... [Y/n]?"

        "Mmh...."

        "—n]?"

        ". . ."

        "[Y/N]!"

        Jolting awake, your hands immediately came up to hold the back of your head which throbbed painfully.  Teary-eyed, you immediately met the gaze — well, more like you met the glare — of your classmate and club president, Natsume.  Even with the glare directed towards you, you couldn't help but admire her.  Tallest in your year at 5'11", Natsume's dark brown hair was neatly separated into two braids, each stopping at around her waist.  Her eyes were as equally dark a brown.  If it weren't for her brash personality, you could imagine she'd be a lot more popular.

        Most importantly that you noticed, though, was the thick book that was held by the spine in her left hand.  The throbbing on the back of your head made you wonder if she hit you awake with that.

        "'M sorry," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes to try and get rid of the grogginess you felt.  A glance at the clock at the front showed that you had only been sleeping for about twenty minutes.  The moment you had walked into the classroom, you had admittedly passed out at the first desk you walked to.

        Whoops.

        Natsume rolled her eyes and turned her back towards you, walking to the front.  "You don't come to club for two weeks, and then when you do show up, you try to sleep through everything?  Seriously, why are you even here?"

        You sent a tired but pointed look at your best (and arguably, only) friend — and also, the only reason why you had joined the journalism club over the occult club.  Said best friend, Hanami, tittered at the look you sent her before turning to Natsume in your defense.

        "Aw, don't be like that, Club Prez!" she exclaimed, grinning behind a hand that she held up to her mouth.  "If it's any consolation, she also slept through every class today!"  Light brown eyes twinkled in amusement at the lighthearted jab she sent towards you.  Not that it bothered you — it was true, and you didn't feel embarrassed to admit it.  It's not like it affected anybody else besides you, anyways.

        From across the room, your club member and fellow classmate, Isora, piped up.  "Hanami's right, [Y/n] even slept through the lunch period."

        On cue, he withdrew a package of trail mix, tossing them towards you.  You made no move to catch them, watching as they skid across your desk and hit the ground with a quiet thump.  You looked at him quizzically, and he rolled his eyes in response.  They were a dark blue, seeming to be black in the current lighting.

        "I picked these up for you since you skipped lunch.  I know, I know, I'm the best."

        "The best at being annoying, maybe," Natsume grumbled, crossing her arms.  "Seriously, how do you manage to pass school at all if you're always sleeping?  You're so lazy, I don't understand how you're always so tired."