Ryota tapped his foot anxiously as he waited. The flight had been delayed, forcing him to keep lounging around in the limousine. Really, he could have been using his precious time making sure (Y/n) didn't have a hangover. Even a sip of alcohol was enough to knock her out, so when she came back a little out of it, he was quite worried. Especially with her constitution, he felt very uneasy about it.
Regardless, about an hour later than he had anticipated, the party arrived, the male lifting an eyebrow. The family was not what he expected. When talking over the phone with them, he had thought they would be at least on par with Arien Otsu's looks. He figured that was why she was so attached to them. Then again, maybe it was the obvious friendliness three out of the four possessed. And though one of them gave a standoffish disposition, there was a certain charm about him.
"Please, come in," he mumbled, forcing a business smile on his lips as he remembered what the younger girl taught him about first impressions, "How was your flight?"
"It was too much," the woman fiddled nervously, "First class, I mean, but we thank you for your generosity."
The green-haired male inspected the group, starting with her. Navy blue hair hung down around her shoulders and her brown eyes were filled with both sadness and hope. Obviously the mother of the three boys, she had an affectionate aura. Perhaps it was because she was a mother or maybe it was the fact that she taught younger children. At least, that was what he remembered reading on the background checks he had Hotaka do. Though he didn't quite know her relationship with the (h/c) haired girl, he held hope that she was a motherly figure for her as well.
Two of the boys looked remarkably similar, almost to the point of being twins. The seemingly older of the two, Yoru, was just a bit more mature in nature, had slightly different colored hair, just a few shades lighter blue than his younger brother. From what he had been told, he was rather intelligent, getting into one of his home country's best universities. The younger one, on the other hand, Tadashi, was not so smart, but he was artistic. He worked as a tattoo artist while going to a community college.
Then there was the strange one. Mitsuo Shiko was vastly different from his mother and brothers. He had slightly dulled white hair and a very unapproachable attitude. He acted just the same as he did when he had spoken to him over the phone. With an apathetic air about him, he just crossed his arms over his chest and stared out of the window like he had nothing better to do. He didn't even participate in the conversation. If that was the case, why did he even come?
"Not at all," Ryota responded, the car beginning to roll forwards, "I wanted (Y/n)'s surrogate family to be here for her. She's having a hard time, so I hope you'll cheer her up."
The woman gave a shy expression as the younger girl's name was brought up, prompting him to smile. She really did seem to treat the (h/c) haired girl like her own despite the fact they shared no blood. He then pondered if the woman knew about the abuse she endured at the hands of her "real" parents - the ones that had bought her. If she did, he felt great gratitude for the woman.
"So, what's the deal?" Tadashi huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Don't be rude!" the male's older brother hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.
"What?! Think about it! After the car crash, she just disappeared, and then 'Hashi did, and then, all of sudden, we get a call from her? And it's not that psychopathic bastard but this...guy?! Who the hell are you?!"
Ryota was a bit taken aback by the attitude he was given. He had expected to be treated a little better than Yasojiro, granted that he wasn't a "psychopathic bastard", but he supposed he couldn't have blamed him. Tadashi probably viewed the younger girl as his sister and only wanted her safety. In that regard, the two shared something. So, figuring it would be best to get along with the people like family to her, the green-haired male kept forcing his smile, Mitsuo twitching a bit.
"I'm just sheltering her for a bit," he explained, receiving a skeptical glare from Tadashi, "She and I are...very close."
"Trying to say she's into you? I doubt it."
"And why would you say that?" Ryota questioned, his tone darkening a bit at the assumption, "Clearly she trusts me enough to protect her. Besides - "
"She's only ever been in love with one person, okay?! And that's 'Hashi! So don't go thinking - "
Immediately, the male stopped speaking as his elder brother and mother flinched. While the latter was filled with grief, holding her hands over her mouth to hide her frown, the former gave a distant look. Upon realizing this, the younger blue-haired male mumbled something off and calmed down. As Ryota trailed his eyes over to the youngest of the three boys, he noticed there was no reaction. It was odd.
"She's lost her memory, hasn't she?" their mother sighed, gripping the small bag she had with her, likely something she intended to gift the younger girl, "I figured as much. If that's the case, I'm glad she has someone to look over her. So, thank you."
"Mom!"
"Do you want her to be alone forever?" Yoru snapped, his younger brother biting down on his lip in shame.
The two brothers began whispering to each other, Ryota pretending not to hear. Truthfully, he disliked hearing about the (h/c) haired girl's feelings for another, but it wasn't as if a dead person could contribute more than he could. He had already promised to take responsibility for her, and he was planning on doing just that. Still, he tried to hold back his displeasure from showing.
When they arrived at the mansion, the green-haired male guided them inside. Still refusing to rely on the few servants that they had, he wanted to do everything himself. It was just his nature. Leading them to the living room, he noticed Ayori peeking around the corner. He then watched with befuddlement as his younger brother began to sneak into the room and around the couch. The boy then reached his hand up and stealthily grabbed a lock of the youngest male's hair before being caught when he tried to yank it.
"And...this is?" Mitsuo sighed, pushing the younger boy away.
" 'Yori!" the boy's older brother growled, glaring at him as he began to panic.
"D-Didn't know! I didn't know, Ri-Ri! I thought it was a wig! Really, I did! I thought only old people had white hair a-and - "
The mint-haired boy sprinted away, his fluffy cat trailing not too far behind him. All the while, Mitsuo's eyes rested firmly on him with great interest. However, as he opened his mouth to ask something, he immediately shut it and his curiosity faded, the male returning to his apathy. The young boy was bound to get in tons of trouble later on, but at the moment, Ryota was more focused on finding the younger girl. When he had her standing in the living room, he had his hands over her eyes. Then he removed them, eager to see her weep tears of...happiness.
. . .
At the same time, Hotaka had been shocked to find a call from Yasojiro. He did anticipate the redhead may try contacting him in order to get a hold of the (h/c) haired girl again, but the call itself was very strange. The older male hadn't said anything about wanting to meet with her or giving any threats. Instead, with a very calm tone, he had informed the purple-haired male he wanted to speak, inviting him over to the manor. And while he was incredibly skeptical about the very real possibility of it being a trap, he nonetheless had decided to go.
As he had arrived, he found the silence of the place eerie. Although he knew there were countless servants there, no one was in sight, even as he opened the front door. Instead, he made it all the way around the manor before running into a ginger-haired man. He had recognized him as the red-haired male's closest aide and caretaker. The man led him quietly to his master's study, the creaking of the floorboard the only sound that was audible.
The door was promptly knocked on by the man, a faint noise of approval coming from inside. It was then that it was opened, Hotaka, alone allowed inside. As expected, the redhead was waiting for him inside, a journal in front of him. He gave a strict glance to the younger male before taking in a deep breath and putting on a clearly fake smile. It was similar to the one Ryota would make whenever he knew he needed to impress someone but something about it was much more sinister.
"Go ahead and take a seat," he suggested, pulling out the chair for him.
"If it's all the same, I'd rather stand. I'll also inform you that I am armed."
There was a pause in the conversation after that. Though Hotaka expected he would be given another passive-aggressive smile, the redhead just blanked. He tilted his head and placed his hand on the journal in front of him before huffing. The male then sat on the desk instead of a chair, something he seemed oddly comfortable doing. The mood, on the other hand, was not so comfortable, with much tension lingering in the thick air.
"You're a very good person," Shota mumbled.
"That's probably why we'll never get along."
"Yes, well, it's also probably why you'll only ever be a replacement in (Y/n)'s eyes."
Hotaka paused for a moment before glaring incessantly. He didn't know why the redhead felt that saying that would make him hesitate when it came to taking care of her. It might have just been his manipulative nature. He probably lied just as easily as he breathed. There would have been no surprise there. After all, he was a murderer and a kidnapper. The younger male steeled himself in anticipation of any more lies he sought to throw at him. No matter what he said, he was determined not to be budged any which way.
"You're full of hot air. And it has nothing to do with you, anyway."
"It has everything to do with me. In fact, I'm the one who knows the most what kind of person she wants. Would you like me to share?"
"Nothing comes for free, and anyway, even if I wanted to know, it's an invasion of privacy."
"Oh, I forgot for a moment how much of an upright citizen you are. I'm such a fool for suggesting such a thing to you. You would never invade someone's personal life like that. It's not like you would, say, sneak into someone's room, rifle through their belongings, and look at their grades without permission."
The purple-haired male tensed, visibly flinching out of both fear and shame. He really hadn't meant anything malicious by doing that, and, in the first place, it was only because the door was ajar. Blushing, he stuttered, trying to figure out some way to justify what he had done. But, it was pretty much hopeless in the face of such a cunning, manipulative individual. As Shota looked at the face he made - one of a speechless child - he bit down on the side of his cheek. No wonder she was fascinated with him.
"It made you happy, didn't it?" the redhead continued, standing up and beginning to circle around the younger male slowly, "Such an academic student risked losing her scholarship just because she cared so much about you. Almost makes you want to look at her other tests, huh?"
Hotaka knew what he was doing. It was a common interrogation technique; preying on his guilt and coaxing him with happiness to force him into listening. He had done it himself quite a few times, especially in his more famous cases. But, for some reason, he just couldn't find it in himself to remain calm, continuing to panic, which continued to fuel the redhead's very true, very convincing words. He fell for it. The male didn't even question how it was that he knew about that event.
"I-I just...It wasn't on purpose," the younger male shivered, wondering if the redhead would tell the girl about the incident.
"I understand. I've always thought the way (Y/n)'s mind works is fascinating. She's like a mirror, always reflecting what her target wants and needs. Oh, my mistake! I forgot you wanted to avoid hearing about her type. Should we discuss something else instead?"
Hotaka bit down on his lip, giving a shy look as he seated himself in the chair he was offered earlier. He placed his hands in his lap, fiddling with them as he gazed up at Shota. There was no stubborn rejection of continuing the conversation. Rather, it seemed he was far more receptive to what he had to say. Though, whether it was from the threat or from his own personal curiosity, neither of them could say.
Either way, the redhead held up the journal he had in his hands. He began to show pictures of individuals that seemed to have nothing to do with the other. Pictures of a boy, a girl, more boys, more girls, older boys, and older girls flashed by in a moment. The male then stopped on the picture of a blue-haired individual, roughly the same age that (Y/n) appeared to be. He had a kind smile, one that could light up a room, and in the picture, he was surrounded by all kinds of people, all of them directing their gaze solely to him.
"He was very similar to you," Shota huffed, tapping the picture aggressively, "She was so desperately attached to him. In fact, while everyone else held her attention for a month or two at the most, he managed to capture her fascination for years. Oh, but, I don't know why I'm explaining all of this. You must have done all this research when you were poisoning my darling against me, right?"
"Well...a bit. It was for the greater good. He disappeared, didn't he? Though, it's not out of the question for it to have been your doing, murderer."
"Believe me. If I had killed him, I would have sung it to the sky. But I digress. Do you know what all of these people have in common?"
"Did you kill them all?"
"Well, someone did. But, as you go from right to left in the book, each one is stronger than the one before. Try and guess why that is, detective-in-training."
The purple-haired male frowned, reaching his hands out for the book. As he began to look through their pictures, nothing came to mind. Some of the descriptions made on them were a bit out of the ordinary, but there was nothing that helped him connect the dots. Looking up, he raised a brow, silently asking for the answer. That was when the redhead let himself smirk, as if proving Hotaka wasn't all he was cracked up to be.
"She's attracted to power. Or, more like, she has a desperate need to be protected by that power. Take, for instance, her first female friend. Hoshi Seno was a very isolated transfer student back in the first grade. She had an incident where she kicked another kid so hard that she broke the bone in their leg. So (Y/n) began making drawings of her and gifting them to her."
"So? There's nothing suspicious about that. She's a very kind person."
"Kind? Yes, that's probably how her fifteenth friend would have described her. Arata Kei was the child of a local dojo owner. She had a black belt by the time the both of them were in third grade. Impressive, right? That's what (Y/n) thought, too. So she began doing the girl's homework for her and helping her study."
"Of course. She probably only wanted to make a friend. What's...the point you're getting at?"
"Well, when the next one of that list showed up - a very distrusting boy who would only befriend other loners - Kei was found dead. There were two puncture wounds on her neck and an odd symbol carved into her back. It was the first butchering of a new serial killer. In the area, they called that person the 'Vampire of Keisetsu' because of the odd puncture marks on the neck."
Hotaka held back any facial expressions he would have made otherwise. He didn't want to reveal the fact that he had already discovered the killer. If he walked away with that information, no doubt there would be a target on his back. And, obviously, if the redhead was trying to test him, it was best to play dumb. Still, the events of the murders were gruesome and they only increased in scale going further.
"The police were sure the culprit must have been a man of formidable height and access to amateur metalworking. There were two reasons for this. The first was that, in each victim's neck, the weapon used to inflict two paralyzing hits to the neck was always left in to block the trachea. It was made of - of all things - scrap metal stolen from construction sites around the area. The second reason was that the force used to make the puncture wounds was so forceful that it must have been a grown man with a muscular figure. You don't have to remain quiet, Ishikawa. What else do you remember from the case?"
"Nothing," the younger male trailed off, averting his eyes from the redhead.
"Well, that's a bald-faced lie, but I'll allow it, if only out of respect. Each victim was killed in a different place at a different time, always slumped up against a wall. The only motive they could find was a singular word written in blood above the victim. 'Liar', 'thief', 'betrayer', 'useless', 'coward', and so on. But, one day, the serial killer vanished. After years of killing one to two people a week, suddenly, for about a week or two, two years ago, they vanished. And then they appeared again for a year. Then they vanished again for a year. And now, there were two bodies discovered here in Afrua with their signature. You're not an idiot. Tell me their identity and I'll give you a bit more information."
Again, the purple-haired male froze. He wouldn't have anticipated the redhead actually knew such a secret. And, even if he did, he didn't understand why he wouldn't have utilized that information into a more than effective threat. It certainly would have worked for fear of the serial killer being exposed. That being said, the reason behind it was tempting to know, so reluctantly, the militant mumbled quietly, staring down at his hands submissively.
"It was (Y/n)," he shivered, suddenly raising his voice, "b-but she's different than you! S-She didn't think she had any choice. After her parents bought her and the constant abuse and cannibalism they engaged in, she must have been so lost. No one was there! But I'm helping her now! She can be saved! I can save her! She's distraught and she wants to turn herself in."
Shota twitched which led the younger male to shout louder in a defensive tone.
"Don't compare yourself to her! You're a remorseless killer!"
"It's so sweet how you have so much faith in her. You hid evidence for her. You withheld her identity for her. You're even helping her resolve her trauma and lending a guiding hand because you know no one will ever understand her pain. But, I wonder, how far are you willing to go?"
"I'm going to see this through!" the purple-haired male exclaimed, standing up with a passionate glare, "I'll dedicate all my time to making sure she puts it behind her."
"I thought you were a hardass when it came to killers."
This time Hotaka twitched.
"Well...that's...Like I said, she's different!"
"Is she? Last I recall, the first case you solved that put your name in the spotlight was the 'The Strangler of Ediasia'. They also suffered from childhood abuse, were forced into drugs at an early age, and were the subject of forcible illegal experimentation. Did you spare no effort for them?"
"They didn't show any remorse! They only kept threatening to - "
"I see!" Shota smiled, placing his fist onto his palm with a realization, "I'm so sorry I killed people. I won't do it again. Boohoo. Am I special now, too?"
"(Y/n)'s special, okay? I don't know why. I just feel it!"
"Let's play a game. I'm going to ask you a question and you're going to answer. So, a train is heading down a track en route to kill five people. However, you have the option to switch the track to kill one person instead. Which one?"
"The one person," Hotaka answered, no hesitation in his voice.
"As I expected. Very well, next question. This time you're that one person and you have the chance to choose. Would you rather - "
"Obviously, I would switch it to me!"
"I see. So, you're saying that, if you save more lives, killing one person is justified."
"That only works for this hypothetical scenario. It doesn't mean that it's true for any scenario ever."
"Got it. Then, replace that one person with (Y/n)."
Hotaka froze. He knew his convictions and he knew what the right thing to do would be. But, as always, he was finding it hard to lie, saying that he would rather sacrifice her to save five innocent lives. Clenching his fist, he felt himself on the brim of tears. He didn't understand the mind games, becoming more and more despaired with each question posed to him. Just what did Shota want from him?
"I...would save her," he finally confessed, holding tightly onto his arm.
"Alright. Now, (Y/n) or ten people."
"...(Y/n)."
"(Y/n) or a hundred people."
"..." A deep breath. "(Y/n)."
"Then, instead of (Y/n) being on the track, what if her happiness was at stake? Would you kill five, ten, a hundred people to make sure she was happy?"
A disgusting feeling welled up inside the militant. He didn't like the things he was being made to think. He didn't like agreeing with the redhead on the subject of throwing human lives away for one person's smile. It wasn't right, it wasn't just, it wasn't him. Yet, in the end, the only thing he could do was nod his head as he dug his nails into his flesh. He understood what the male was trying to prove to him now.
"Thank you," Shota smiled, tilting his head patronizingly, "You may go now."
Looking up suddenly with a shocked look in his eyes, the purple-haired male's mouth hung agape. After all of that psychological torture and he was just free to go? The older male didn't make any request to see the (h/c) haired girl or make any threats about what would happen if she was not returned to his side. He just talked about trains and smiled? It was humiliating. All of the male's principals had been broken down in front of him, and he just smiled?
"No!" the male exclaimed, slamming his hands down on the table in front of him, "You don't get to do that! You don't get to-to dangle my whole life's purpose over a cliff like that! You don't get to...You don't get to be such a jerk!"
"Not to be childish, but you and your boss started it. If you had never tried to take her away from me, I wouldn't have to respond with aggression."
"Aggression?! You are unstable and completely hostile to any living individual and that's just aggression?!"
"If I don't get to be the hero, I make sure that everyone else is a villain. Do you understand that?"
"Of course not!"
"So? What do you want? More evidence to convict me? It won't work. See, money and prestige do wonders to the legal system here in Afrua, but I assume you and your sister knew that much. Why ever do you think I chose to smuggle (Y/n) here?"
Hotaka's hand moved to his gun before he had time to completely comprehend what he was doing. Instead, as he saw the red-haired male smirk and then proceed to snicker at his threat, he froze. He was doing just what Shota said he would, proving his point entirely. Paralyzed at the thought that he would try to kill an unarmed individual based solely on his emotions of affection for the younger girl and hatred for those that hurt her, he began to shiver. Releasing the weapon, he placed his hands on his arms and bit down on his bottom lip, drawing blood.
"I fear I was a bit mean," the redhead chuckled, patting the younger boy's head condescendingly, "My apologies, Ishikawa."
"What about (Y/n)?"
"Pardon?"
"What would she do about the train? If the person or people she cared most about...was compared to her safety?"
"Well," Shota laughed, covering his mouth shortly after to maintain his image, "Who do you think has that title?"
"...That boy."
"That boy?"
"He had a family. They were like her own. Would she sacrifice them if it meant she would be...safe?"
As Shota's eyes dilated, filled with that of complete and utter concern. At the sight, the purple-haired male had his answer, the younger boy quick to move his hand down to his phone only to freeze. It wasn't there. He sucked in a deep, shivering breath and gazed up at the redhead, the look of guilt on his face forcing Shota to call out in a loud voice to reach his most trusted aide's ears.
"Okura! Get Beotia and start the car now!" he roared, turning to the purple-haired male with a look of disgust, "You fool."
"I just wanted to help her. I didn't know..."