You want to say you’re sorry.

You’re sorry you’re so nasty.

You’re sorry you’re so forceful.

You’re sorry you can’t be left alone.

You’re very sorry for being Hiyoko Saionji.

But you’ve been taught that saying sorry is for losers, and you don’t want to be a loser. You don’t want to be pathetic and weak and miserable. And you aren’t. You’re not.

You cry sometimes, but those tears are fake. Real tears are for losers. And you aren’t one. You’re not one. You’re not sure what you are. But you’re not a loser. Not pathetic, not weak, not miserable.

Yet more than anything, you want to tell Mahiru Koizumi that you’re sorry she has to spend time with someone like you – someone who nobody likes, someone who is quick to put others down, someone who is compulsive and throws tantrums. You want to tell her you are so, so sorry, and that you want to let her go but you physically cannot. Will not. Would not.

The only person on the whole goddamn island that ever gave you the time of day was that girl, after all.

You’re so pathetic.

Your fingertips trace the ink on that letter in your hands, and you hold it close.

Mahiru Koizumi.

Strong, reliable, constant. Stern, trustworthy, gorgeous. Kind, sweet, caring.

And there’s even more – easily flustered, easy to tease, easy to laugh with, easy to like.

You were going to spend another day with her today, and it filled your heart with hope.

Another day with her stunning rosy smile, and her raucous laughter at your stupid jibes and jokes.

Another day clinging to her side, as you walk hand in hand together, wherever you want to go – whether it’s the beach, or the cottages, or the ranch, you’re there.

Another day with her chasing you back for her camera, and you screeching until you’re out of breath and then you’re hugging and she’s warm and she’s all you ever need and you’re finally (for once in your life, can you even believe this is real?) happy.

You don’t trust anyone but Mahiru and that isn’t going to change.

“Why is that?” she asked you yesterday, pushing a lock of vibrant red hair behind her ear, only to have it fall back in place. You stared a little, mesmerized. Then you shook it off. Stupid.

“Well, I can’t,” you had replied lamely. Your mouth flattened into a thin, bitter line and you pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek in faux annoyance. “They’re all completely worthless! ‘Friendship’ is just a fancy word for weaklings who plot together, you know? I don’t believe in something dumb like that.”

“You should learn to trust people,” Mahiru suggested, and the tinkle of her voice almost convinced you immediately. But even if Mahiru said it, you can’t change that easily. You’ve been through too much to change. You’ve been through too many sleepless nights to want to give out your trust for free.

“Mahiru,” you simply whine, locking your arms around her slender waist, and nuzzling your hair into her side as she laughs.

“Hey, sometimes friendship isn’t all that bad.” She smiled beautifully, in the way she does with her teeth showing and light pink flushing in her cheeks, illuminating the freckles on her soft skin. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You stepped back once and collided with her again, and you both sat entwined, listening to the sounds of the ocean. She subtly dragged out her camera and took a shot, and you looked at her with nothing but admiration. She snapped a shot of you, as well, and you feigned ignorance, cuddling into her side.

“Yeah, of course,” you mumbled under your breath, taking your time with answering the question while you’re snuggling into her shirt. “We are friends.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

It’s to your own surprise, and relief, that you can hear the genuine delight in her voice. It’s comforting. Mahiru is comforting.

Now, you decide, maybe you will try your best to learn to trust others. Maybe. Just a little. You’ll make a start, and you’ll try. For Mahiru’s sake.

Maybe, with her by your side, it’ll be different from before. Different from when you felt stabbed by betrayal over and over again. Different from when all those weaklings sneered at you, for being better than them. It’ll be different from before. It has to be.

You clutch the letter even tighter in your hands, scanning over the words over and over.

Then you take one glance at the clock hanging in your cottage, and you realize that it’s time.

You think of Mahiru Koizumi, and the location that you will meet, and let a smile play across your lips.

You’re so weak.

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You’re so naïve.

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Maybe you’re getting what you deserved.

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Mahiru…?

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Maybe you deserved this.

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Mahiru? This is a joke, right?

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It’s your fault. It’s all your fault.

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You didn’t ask me to come here … to see this, right?

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Mahiru, please…

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Mahiru! Wake up!

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Please don’t leave me, I’m scared.

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Who did this to you…?

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Mahiru, please answer me!

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Someone, please…

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Please bring my friend back, I beg of you.

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I’ll do anything! Anything!

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How could somebody do such a thing?!

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Mahiru, please, no…

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Somebody, help…

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I’ll do anything… anything at all…!

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Death, death, blood, death, splattered across the floor, the walls, the door, cold skin, no life, death, blood, death, loss, grief, horror, blood, death, fallen, death, still, death. Freckles spotted with blood, wound in the head still raw, hand limp over hollow wooden boards.

You can’t even scream.

When you stand there, stock still, with your hand over your mouth and your eyes wide like saucers, you can’t even breathe.

So you do the first thing you can.

You run.

You run away from that morbid, blood-stained scene, leaving footprints in the sand and salty tears streaming from your eyes – stinging in the ocean wind.

They’re probably all going to laugh at you.

Poor Hiyoko Saionji is crying again.

But you can’t stop the tears. They flow freely, and you hate them, but they won’t stop – they just won’t stop. You can’t stop crying because someone on this island murdered Mahiru Koizumi in cold blood and they probably didn’t even stop to think about the way that it would affect anyone else. Someone selfish, terrible and someone you – someone you may have trusted.

You’re absolutely miserable.

When that tell-tale announcement booms loud over the island, you resolve to find the truth.

You’re never going to trust anyone again.

Because trust was what killed Mahiru Koizumi.

Trust is what wrenched your only friend from your grasp.

It is trust that always fails.

And you despise it more than anything else in the world.