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'I regret those times when I've chosen the dark side. I've wasted enough time not being happy'
— Jessica Lange

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"Technically, we mourned over her death once so we shouldn't do so again. What's different now?" Chiaki cleared her throat to raise the tension in the room.

Nobody seemed to lighten up at all.

"Now we have Akemi..." Ryuu mumbled under his breath. "That's what."

The teen's words rang deep within all of them. Their hearts squeezed with pain at the memories that flooded their minds. Instant death for the two of them, their bodies being rushed to the hospital... their funerals.

"Mr. Joichiro was really angry at us at the cemetery," Atsuhi spoke up, frowning, his eyes casted to the ground.

"Who could blame him?" Ayame replied. "It is our fault. We went there saying we'd save her and in the end, look at the results."

Another silence filled the air. It was one where it was difficult for them to breathe.

"Th-the result is because A-Akira was crazy!" stammered Mayumi defensively. "Sh-She stabbed K-Katsura in the wrists! Now's sh-she's at the hospital getting rehabilitation!"

"Somebody hit her in the head with a metal pipe," Yasuo's voice sent chills up all their spines. His legs were crossed over the table in the CRF clubroom, his eyes narrowed ominously. You were unable to even see his face properly with his blond hair shading his eyes.

Everybody stared at the second year, eyebrows knitted together. Out of them all, Yasuo had to be the calmest. Whether it be during the trip to the hospital or the funeral, his poker face and monotonous tone didn't crack once. It was odd.

"True..." Tadashi spoke after a long pause, intertwining his fingers as he stared at his hands. He gulped hard, "She... said something about the mastermind, right?"

"She did." They were all caught off guard by Juzo's voice. His eyes were serious and his lengthy hair was pulled back into a small ponytail—an irregular look for the tedious teen. "Though, that could be something she made up. If what we said before is true, Akira Minamoto is involved with the mastermind. And if she is, that would mean that the mastermind got to the shrine before we all could."

If this were any other day, all their jaws would've flung open. Juzo appeared so diligent in that moment, some even had to rub their eyes to make sure they weren't dreaming.

"But the question is why he or she ever would," Ayame said coolly, gazing at the teen in an almost nonchalant manner.

"If it's the mastermind we're talking about, they already knew we were coming," Chiaki murmured.

Nobody argued with her. Based on everything that has happened, it wasn't as if it wasn't true.

"I'm sick of this!" Ryuu slammed his fists into the table, grounding his teeth. "Can't we just find that goddamn bastard?!"

"They're having their fun tormenting us with these deaths," Tadashi said, trying not to break down.

"And it'll only continue until that bastard is caught and killed."

Everyone's eyes flitted onto the blond, who had dropped his legs from the table and was up on his feet. His lips were downturned sourly, his eyes exhibiting such a malicious emotion.

"Y-Yasuo..." Ryuu as well as the others were wide-eyed as the teen clicked his tongue, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"I'm freakin' killing the one responsible when I get my hands on them..." Yasuo's declaration left the all of them speechless as he sauntered towards the doorway. "I swear it."

The door to the clubroom slammed shut behind him, invoking a solemn tension amongst the teens. It only added to the heaviness they all felt in their chests.

"Everyone." The quiet didn't last long because Ayame got up to her feet as well. "Even though we've been on this case for months, it's time to bring it to a close," she began, gulping hard. "That's why we have to swear that we'll do our utmost best to bring this case to an end. And... we must promise ourselves that no matter what awaits us in the future, we will not give up hope. If a gun or knife is pointed in our direction, we will fight for our lives, and for this case. There is no more running away now. The mastermind wants us—this club—dead, and we will not give him or her what they desire. They sacrificed our members one by one, left us feeling bare and empty—useless—and we will not tolerate it anymore. I have repeated this countless of times since the beginning, but it is the truth. We cannot let the mastermind win—at this point, we will not, you hear me?"

Ayame, despite being so emotionless, in that moment, appeared more broken than anyone and everyone else.

Inhaling a deep breath, Ayame stood tall before pivoting and going out the door as well without sparing them a final glance.

"Dismissed," she announced. "Tomorrow, we will meet in this room as usual."

And just like she said, they would.

At least, that was what they believed.

☻☺☻

"Where's the goddamn room..." Atori Yamada scrunched up his face, slouching as he ventured through the spacious halls. He looked left and right, trying to discern what room he was to go.

"That kid isn't a student, right?"

"What's he doing here?"

"His hair is white!"

Irked, Atori clicked his tongue, a glare prominent on his face. Ugh, why whenever he came back to this academy, everything was the same. All this whispering infuriated him more than anything.

Right as he was about to snap and possibly pull out his gun to shoot one of them, somebody grasped onto both his shoulders from behind with a rough force.

Atori jolted, glancing up at the culprit only to see a grinning male in pajamas with a huge afro and nightcap rested on top.

"What might you be doing in this school, boy?" The teacher's tone was full of tease. "Junior high kids should be in school right about now."

The statement allowed an annoyed tic mark to appear on the teen's head. He leapt backwards from his grip, glowering.

"I'm not in junior high asshole!?"

The what he believed to be was a teacher, held up his hands in defense but his smile didn't fall from his countenance.

"Language," he scolded. "Now, what were you here for again?"

Atori grounded his teeth, stuffing his hands into his trenchcoat pocket. "Can you lead me to the principal's office? I need to see him."

Nobuo laughed sarcastically, "Oh, I apologize. Okigawa's very busy at the moment. Come again another time."

"Is this a store?!"

Atori was way passed pissed now and the murmuring of the students around them only miffed him further.

"Why are you even here?! The home time bell rang a while ago!" Atori's shout aimed at the students startled them and they all flinched before scattering.

By the time the hallways were cleared, Atori was huffing and puffing, waiting to blow down everything in his path-- first would be that damn teacher.

"Why so stressed? Relax a little."

Atori growled at his words. "Move. I'll find it myself."

Before Atori could dare walk past Nobuo, he grinned and blocked his path again.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said, knowing that by now, Atori was fuming with rage. "Letting unauthorized people in the school goes against everything a teacher should do."

"What BS," Atori spat. "You don't even look like a teacher. Teacher's aren't even suppose to be wearing pajamas."

"Well, I don't believe in dress codes," he retorted with a smile. "Being restricted to one style of clothing goes against my morals."

"I see." Atori had his head lowered. "But if you don't move in three seconds, your opinions won't matter anymore."

Although his words were chilling, Nobuo chuckled in response, "How scary. Leave, kid, before I call the police. I bet they'd love to capture the Atori Yamada."

Atori's jaw set in a straight line as his pale blue hues locked with his. "Who the hell are you?"

Nobuo only tittered to answer him. Atori, angered by it, was holding a gun to his chin in a matter of seconds.

"I asked who the hell you were," Atsushi pressed the gun even harder against his chin, "you aren't a teacher here are you?"

"Actually, I am." Nobuo wasn't even so much as flinching under the touch, only adding more to Atori's suspicions.

Peering up at the large male, Atori's eyes scanned his face until faint recognition settled in.

"You're a...hitman."

Backing away, Atori scowled and Nobuo snorted.

"That's a bold statement. What makes you say that?"

Instead of replying, Atori spoke, "Why aren't you letting me past then? Seii needs me."

"That's exactly why I can't let you go," he responded.

Atori frowned. Then, it changed into a frightening look. "You're a traitor."

Nobuo's eyes narrowed into slits.

Once more, Atori held the gun to his neck. "That, or you're just plain stupid. Do you want to fight me or something?"

With a small laugh, he replied, "Guns aren't a toy, Atori."

"I know they're not," said the white-haired male. "But humans are. So I'm going to break you."

Without even waiting a second, Atori cocked his gun. Nobuo lurched backwards just in time to dodge the bullet as the teen pulled the trigger. The white-haired teen growled as he continued to shoot series of bullets at the hitman who swiftly avoided them. Nobuo then reached into his suit's pocket and pulled out a revolver as well and held it up. Atori's shooting came to a halt as his face was filled with nothing but malevolence.

"You're making the wrong decision."

Nobuo smiled at his words. They upturned into a smirk. "Working as a teacher here has made me realize what I've lost. Hitmen are cattle, being horded into a slaughterhouse to be killed. And it doesn't matter if one of us dies for the sake of food or not because there will always be replacements. To become a hitman, you abandon those you hold dear and give up your humanity. We become pets to our employers and monsters of greed, telling ourselves that we're doing humanity a "favour." But at the end of the day, we're worthless because nobody will remember us as a hero—rather, they will a criminal. So I decided that if I'm going to be doing humanity that favour, I might as well get credit for it. I wasted enough time in my life not being happy!"

Atori didn't even blink. But Nobuo did, and in that split second, Atori appeared right in front of him, knocked the gun out of his hands, and thrust his own revolver to his throat. The teacher was frozen.

"That's stupid," the white-haired male scoffed in a low tone. "So you're saying you're actually happy at this school? And credit means nothing to the pigs called humanity. They don't give a shred of gratefulness to people at all."

Although Nobuo's heart was pounding in his ears, he forced a laugh. "Then, why are you a hitman? You're the best out there so obviously you wanted to gain something from that right?"

Atori's gleaming blue eyes locked with the moronic male he held the gun to. Seeing how his legs were now threatening to buckle, his face, though, portrayed his unwavering resolve. He wasn't scared of death.

"You're tougher than the other hitmen I've killed," Atori said as he placed his finger on the trigger. "But nonetheless, foolish. Hitmen don't cast aside their humanity..."

The gun fired, and the bullet passed through Nobuo's neck and out the back of his head. His eyes bulged from their sockets, and like a ragdoll, he collapsed to the tiled linoleum, dead.

"We embrace it." Watching the blood gush out of the hitman's neck, Atori let out a hysteric cackle. Eyes wide, mouth pulled back as far as could be, he continued to shoot the body of the hitman, stepping on his head and pummelling it beneath the soles of his shoes. "As the monsters we are!" Atori guffawed as the blood squirted and splattered his clothes, face, and hair. "Hitmen don't kill for money or status or rank. We kill for fun."

He pulled back his blood soaked shoes, licking his lips.

"And the more we get to kill, the better."

☻☺☻

NoooOOOO, Nobuo //cRIES

...I really hope you guys feel that way 😭

Atori's insanity is literally killing me. I can't wait for the surprise I have in store for you guys coming up~ ;)

STORY ENDS IN APPROXIMATELY 11 CHAPTERS !!!

-Misty