Mizuho Inada ! [[GAME OVER]]
- “Oh, Shuuya.” Yukie Utsumi covered her mouth with her hands as she let off a giggle, exchanging a glance with Tanizawa before continuing. “You always play rock’n’roll. It’s so-”
“-Loud!” Yuka cut in rather, well, loudly, guffawing at her own response.
“Yeah!” Utsumi nodded, chuckling. “You should try something different, something slower.”
From across the room, Mizuho made a chuckle of her own as she watched Shuuya’s eyes widen from his place atop his desk, the boy leaning backwards in feigned shock. She knew the girls were joking, but…she kind of agreed with them. It really was a shame that all Shuuya ever sung was rock n’ roll. He had such a beautiful, soulful voice; he’d have been absolutely brilliant singing a nice pop or classical, non-illegal tune.
“Wh-wha-?” Oblivious to Mizuho’s thoughts (or even existence, it seemed), Shuuya laughed, shaking his head. “Seriously!?”
Twisting his body around, the boy turned to face Yoshitoki. “Whaddaya’ think, Nobu? Do you agree?”
Kuninobu’s eyes widened, the boy practically falling from his seat as he chortled in responce. “H-hey, I’m staying right out of this one.”
“Ohh, I see how it is.” The guitarist chuckled, shaking his head. “I guess I’ll just have to get another opinion then, won’t I?”
Mizuho watched intently as Shuuya turned and scanned the room, eyes darting from student to student, eventually stopping on-
Megumi gasped.
-her table. She cocked an eyebrow as Shuuya’s smile widened, thrusting a finger towards the small desk.
“You guys! Inada… Megumi. What do you think?” His eyes narrowed playfully.
“Oh, uh.” Mizuho could hardly contain a giggle as Megumi stuttered, the girl flushing brightly as she responded. “I-I don’t…know.”
“Oh…” Shuuya frowned for a split-second, gaze shifting towards Mizuho. “You?”
“Um,” The girl bit her lip, tilting her head ever so slightly as she gave her own response -a watered down version of her true feelings. “It might be nice to hear you do something slower…”
“… Oh, well, fine then!” Nanahara’s face went a dull red as he twisted his body around, facing Utsumi’s group again. “You win! I’ll play a something all slow and classical, and you’ll see how much worse it is.”
Straightening his back, Shuuya raised his instrument, glancing back over his shoulder towards Mizuho. “This is for you, Inada. This is for 9B.”
Taking a moment to breath, the boy closed his eyes and began to strum his guitar.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That sav’d a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
She couldn’t do it.
Mizuho’s eyes bulged as her bullet flew completely off-course, her attacker’s own tearing right into her stomach, pain searing each and every part of her body. She tried to catch a glimpse of her killer -of Yoshitioki, but his silhouette was already fading into the scenery alongside all of the colour. The plant life was no longer green and the earth, too, was losing its saturation; everything was so grey and… and lifeless.
Tears trickling down her cheeks, Mizuho felt her tongue quiver, the last semblance of a whisper slipping past her lips. “Ahura…”
There was no response. Nothing.
“A-… Ahura?” The tears were falling harder. She could hardly breathe; hardly speak or move or do anything, and h-he was… gone. Where was he?
Where was her god?
Receiving no answer, the warrior slowly fell to her knees before, after a single moment, she collapsed forward onto the hard, cold embrace of the ground beneath her.
Thro’ many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
’Tis grace has brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
There was no elegance in Prexia Dikianne Mizuho’s passing.
From her place on the ground, tears in her eyes and pain in her chest, the girl could do nothing but glance at the puddle of blood resting by her head. It was glowing softly beneath the moonlight; so much so that... if she squinted, she could almost catch sight of her own reflection -of her face.
She could see her father’s nose; her mother’s lips and… and…
A pair of completely unrecognizable eyes. They were filled with a sense of mania, void of colour or emotion, of love or hope. All Mizuho could see was what she saw in Yoshio; in Yoji and Yuko. Bleak desperation.
… Everything made sense.
Sh-she was… She was no better than any of them. She was a monster. A killer. Ahura wasn’t…wasn’t real. H-he was just a figment of her imagination. An excuse; a reason to start… start killing. To get revenge for Kaori’s death.
She deserved the pain she was feeling. Deserved to never see her parents again; deserved to never love or laugh or cry.
She had killed six people… She deserved to die.
“M-m... Me-…”
Unable to stay awake any longer, Mizuho's tears ceased as she allowed her eyelids to slowly flicker shut. Her last breath was not one of despair or anger, not hatred or betrayal, but... instead, a sigh of relief. Relief from the horrors of the program, from the vile grasp of her subconscious -Ahura, and... and relief from the pain. It was all gone. She was... she was free.
Little by little, everything faded to white.
Yes, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease;
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
A life of joy and peace.