mission report for clipsie (part 1 of 7)

[capn_planet]

Title: Chronicles of a Moonless Night
Groups: Heikeha (Sakamoto, Nagano, Inocchi, Joshima, Tatsuya, Taichi)
Pairings: romantic pairings include Taichi/Leader, Tatsuya/Reina, and Inocchi/Asaka (though this is by no means a romance fic); broships include Sakamoto/Nagano, Taichi/Tatsuya, and Sakamoto/Taichi
Rating: R
Warnings: rampant language, excessive, graphic violence, disturbing images, death, religious references, teen sensuality
Summary: And he shall smite the wicked.
Notes: I wrote you a novel. SORRY. But I do hope you enjoy it. It kind of ran away from me and I had a ton of fun writing it. I also made a soundtrack for it! It's not only inspired by the story, but ended up inspiring parts of it itself (this always seems to happen), so I fixed it up all nice and pretty and figured I'd give it to you too. You can download it here. I hope you have as fun reading it as I had writing it! <3



"I was gettin' ready for bed, right? The sames I do every night. I'd just come back from the showers, so I was still in my towel brushin' my hair in fron'a the mirror.

I've got pretty long hair, ya know? So it always takes a while. I had my music turned on my computer and my straight'ner heatin' up, since if I don't straighten my hair, it turns into a giant bahl in the middle of the night.

Anyway, I'm gettin' off track. I was standin' there brushin' my hair when the music suddenly turned off. See now, this actually wasn't real surprisin', since sometimes my computer just does this, so I's more annoyed than anything. I walked over to turn it back on, but the screen itself was off, and when I checked, the whole computer had just shut down. Ain't that weird? It was still plugged in an' everything, and just... poof!

So I was messin' with that and tryin' to turn it back on, but the power button wasn't workin'. While I was focused on that, I 'ear this noise from my right and look over to my straight'ner on the ground. I run over, a'course, 'cuz it'll burn the cahpet otherwise, you know? Only when I picked it up, I realized that it wasn't on either. Like, I know that I had turned it on when I came back from the shower, but somehow it'd turned off.

Then the lights started flickerin' like when there's a power outage or somethin'. They never went off, thank god, but just... blinkin'... all crazy-like. And when I looked in the mirror, I swear... I swear I saw somebuddy standin' behind me. Over by the door. Just... starin'.

Of course, anyone would'a flipped out, right? To see someone watchin' you like that? So I closed my eyes and screamed and just started throwin' stuff at it... and by the time I opened my eyes, it was gone.

All my stuff started workin' again too. Computer turned right back on, straight'ner heated up, and the lights went back to normal. Weird, huh? And I swear I'm not makin' this up."

The girl had big brown eyes and was blinking them owlishly as Sakamoto's pencil scratched on the paper in front of him. He murmured beneath his breath, almost in-time with his scritchings, confirming his every written word.

"Now, you've mentioned there were other times that you'd... heard things?" Sakamoto raised his pencil up, pointing at her in inquisition.

She nodded her head, puffy pink lips parting once more.

"I sure 'ave! Weird stuff in the night, ya know? Like little marbles or something rollin' across the ceiling. And stuff thumpin' on the walls, thump thump... thump." She rapped her knuckles on the table between them, emphasizing her point.

"Good, good, very good." Sakamoto's pencil went back to his pad, tongue perched between his teeth.

"I don't see what's so good about it. That dorm gives me the creeps! Wish I coulda been assigned to Baker or Kelvin." She shook her head, lips poking together as she let out a soft whistle. "I'd try and change dorms, but there's a waiting list a mile long of people tryin' to move outta Wicker."

Sakamoto finished jotting down the last of his notes, tapping his pad on the table before letting it flop down, pencil going behind his ear. "Well, never you fear. We here at the Buzz Feed aim to crack this case open and make all of campus a safe place for our bright and stunning youth of tomorrow."

"I'm tellin' ya-it's a ghost! Unless you've got a ray gun or somethin' hidden in that pencil, I don't think you're gonna be able to do much." The girl raised an eyebrow incredulously, her freckled cheeks flushed with red.

Sakamoto just laughed, eyes glancing over his notes before trailing up to the clock on the wall above their heads.

11:30. Almost time for lunch. He'd have time before he was due back at the Buzz Feed student office.

"Sometimes you'd be surprised."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Taichi, could you wait a minute?"

Taichi glanced up from his bookbag, hands poised in the midst of sliding his notebook and lab file in beside his thick chemistry textbook.

"Sure, Dr. Angelone."

He looked towards the back of the room where Tatsuya was waiting for him at the door, nodding quickly to let him know he'd meet him outside.

Dr. Angelone walked over towards his desk as the rest of the students filed out quietly, his curly black hair perfectly quaffed above his steel-frame glasses.

"Taichi, I was just going over your lab report from last week. The Grignard Synthesis lab?"

"Yeah?" Taichi finished packing up his bookbag, hauling it up and over his shoulder before turning to face his professor directly.

Angelone was glancing down at a paper in his hands, eyes roving the contents one last time before his lips parted again. "Your numbers for the triphenylmethanol percent yield just don't add up."

Taichi's eyes narrowed, throat caught as if he'd swallowed a stone. "What do you mean?"

"Just that. They don't add up." Angelone shook his head. "Normally, I'd just assume you'd made a mistake in the calculation, but even the numbers you started with here are off, and they don't correspond to your lab notes at all." He flipped the paper around to show Taichi himself, who looked down at his own work coolly, adjusting his thick black frames.

"...huh. Well."

"Taichi, I really hate to ask this, as normally I hold all my students to a certain degree of integrity, but did you even attend last week's lab?"

The stone in Taichi's throat doubled in size. He swallowed carefully, keeping his eyes trained to the paper lest they possibly betray him. He shook his head. "No, I promise I was there. Last week was just really bad for me. Came down with the stomach flu and spent most of the night before hacking my lungs up." He risked a glance up at Angelone, hoping the sincerity was coming through in his voice. "I must have just... been really out of it through most of that lab."

Angelone sighed, taking the paper back. "Well, if that's the case, then there's not much we can do, but you do realize each of these labs is ten percent of your grade, hm?"

"I know, I know..." Taichi wasn't quite sure whether to breathe out a sigh of relief yet, as Angelone's voice still crackled with suspicion. "I rested up over the weekend, so I'm feeling a lot better this week." He readjusted his hold on his bookbag.

"That's good to hear, at least." Angelone sat back down at his desk, setting Taichi's paper on top of a pile with the rest of the class's work. "Taichi, you're one of my best students when you actually put your mind to it, so you can see where I start to worry when you turn in this type of work."

"I'm sorry..." He could sense that the conversation was almost over, feet itching to carry him out of the stuffy classroom. "I won't let it happen again."

Angelone smiled at this, fingers lacing together atop his desk. "That's the spirit. Well then, I look forward to seeing the results of your next lab."

Taichi ducked his head once, then twice, in semi-awkward little bows, then turned on his heels, fingers still clutched in the handles of his bookbag as he walked out the door.

Tatsuya was waiting for him outside, face vacant as he watched a gaggle of girls nearby converse by the drinking fountain, but he looked up as Taichi approached.

"You get chewed out, man?"

Taichi shook his head, bottom lip pouting out in casual disinterest. "He suspected though."

"Anybody woulda suspected after seeing what you turned in." Tatsuya clapped his hand on Taichi's shoulder as the two of them headed down the hall. "You can't just take the numbers from my lab report and change a few to make it look like you didn't copy and think old man Angelone isn't gonna think somethin's up."

Taichi shrugged, his eyes trained towards the ground as they walked. "Still better then turning in nothing."

"Very true, very true. But you could have just gone to lab to begin with."

"I was finishing my sociology paper."

"Which you could have done this last weekend."

"When I was at home babysitting the brat?"

Tatsuya shook his head with a laugh. "Maybe someone just needs to plan ahead better?"

Taichi let out a sigh as their footsteps followed them outside, his hands finding the flaps of his jacket and pulling them in towards his chest at the bite of the autumn wind. Campus had already erupted in red and gold hues, crunchy leaves lining the sidewalks while scarves graced the necks of every other student they passed.

It was only a five minute walk from the Godrick Science Hall to the student center-just past the fountain lined with granite goldfish and up the brick staircase. The campus itself was a relatively small one, Dulbruk University larger than most private schools, but still dwarfed by the two state schools to its north and east. Its size did nothing to deter its beauty, however, the red brick buildings and curving pathways reeking of European charm, the colors of fall only amplifying the effect.

Taichi and Tatsuya were both in the pre-med biology track, one of the school's bigger programs and boasting well-known staff and a new set of facilities. They were both sophomores despite Tatsuya being a good two years older than Taichi given that he'd started college late. A chance lab partner pairing their first semester and a failed experiment that landed both of them on after-hours clean-up duty had been the basis of their friendship, but it was their general lack of faith in campus bureaucracy that kept it strong. That and Taichi's penchant for snark, which Tatsuya said kept him on his toes.

Taichi ran a hand through his curls as the two of them stepped inside the student center and up the stairs to the cafeteria. He could already see Reina waiting above them on the balcony, one hand on her hip as her lips curled and folded in bored apathy.

"Sorry, babe. Had to wait for Skips McGee to get his ass handed to him by the prof." Tatsuya shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way over to Reina, the girl done up in a thick wool sweater and jeans which made her legs look like two tiny twigs protruding from her boots.

"He didn't even do anything, you ass." Taichi reaffirmed his earlier point, about to follow Tatsuya but getting his eye caught on the nearby paper rack, the week's newest issue of the Buzz Feed folded crisp on top. "Just a sec..."

He meandered over as Reina began rambling about the night's football game, fingers pulling the top issue from the pile before flicking the fold open with a snap. The words Spiteful Spooks at Wicker? graced the cover with a black and white photo of the dorm itself just underneath. He started reading the finer print as his feet took him to where Tatsuya and Reina were discussing when to meet for the game.

"Can you believe the stuff that gets put in the news nowadays?" Taichi flicked the paper to emphasize his point.

Reina's eyes widened at the sight like two round saucers beneath her ginger bangs. "But everyone knows Wicker's haunted."

"Yeah, and hundreds of years ago people knew the earth was flat." Taichi continued to peruse the article, unimpressed by the ghostly experience being retold by a Casey Matthews. When her first-hand account was finished, the article continued on into history behind the old dormitory, which Taichi didn't bother himself reading.

"You've gotta admit, some of that stuff's pretty creepy." Tatsuya spoke up as the three of them started into the cafeteria, swiping their student IDs at the entrance before filing inside. "What would you do if random shit started moving and what-not while you were in your room."

"I'd check myself into Oswald's is what I'd do." Taichi carefully folded the student newspaper into thirds and slid it into his back pocket.

"Now you're just being mean, Taichi." Reina's cheeks puffed out in indignation. "I have friends in Wicker and they're very definitely not crazy!"

Five minutes later, Taichi slid down into his seat across from Tatsuya and Reina with his tray of food, the table quivering from the impact.

"I'm not saying they're crazy. I'm just saying I think this whole thing is a bunch of bull."

Tatsuya looked up from his slice of pizza. "I can't say I buy into much of it either, but it's pretty entertaining to read about." A bit of grease dribbled down from his lips, and he wiped it up with his napkin.

Reina just frowned above her waffle. "Well, I think it's scary. I'm glad I got assigned to Hafflewood so I don't have to worry about ghosts spying on me all the time."

"Yeah, they might take pictures of you naked and post 'em on Facebook." Tatsuya sniggered to himself, only to wince as Reina flicked his forehead.

Taichi shoved a giant bite of his teriyaki chicken burger into his mouth, finger wiping at his bottom lip as he chewed in thought. The sounds of the cafeteria were loud around them, making it hard to think.

"Anyway, you comin' to the game tonight, Taichi?" Tatsuya turned back to him, taking his napkin in his hand and blotting the top of his pizza with a little face.

Taichi shook his head. "Nah, I'm gonna stay in tonight. Still got stuff to catch up on."

"That's never stopped this guy." Reina twirled her fingers over stealthily to Tatsuya's tray and stole one of the pepperonis from his pizza.

A laugh. Taichi took another bite of his burger. It burned the top of his mouth.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So this is the big story you were talkin' about, huh?"

Taichi waved his copy of the Buzz Feed in front of his face before dropping it down on the nearby shelf.

Sakamoto turned around at the sound of his roommate's voice, half-way poised in his game of darts and his feet pressed into the cush of the mattress as he stood bouncing up and down on top of his bed.

"Pretty great, huh?"

He threw one last dart, missing the target completely this time, the dart falling to the floor with a mini clatter. Cursing in the back of his throat, he jumped to the ground, not even bothering to straighten his now messy sheets.

"It's a load of crap!" Taichi hauled his bookbag off his shoulder and shrugged out of his shoes.

"I figured you'd say that." Sakamoto's smile never fell. "You never were one to believe in the supernatural." He brought his hands up, wiggling his fingers in spooky emphasis while Taichi continued to ignore him. "I'm tellin' ya though, it's my next big scoop."

Taichi scoffed under his breath, pulling his shirt off to change into something more comfortable for the night. "What are you now? Some kind of Ghostbuster?"

Sakamoto stood his ground with his hands on his hips, chin tilted in the air. "Even better. A ghost journalist."

"Let me know when you actually start making money." Changed into his boxers and a grungy t-shirt, Taichi sat down at his desk, fingers reaching around the back of his lamp until the soft light reflected off the wood surface.

"Ye of little faith." Sakamoto walked over to where Taichi had set down the issue of Buzz Feed, picking it up to peruse his own writing. "I was particularly fond of my description of the girl."

"'Trembling with a deep, guttural fear'?" Taichi glanced over as Sakamoto ambled his way towards his desk, eyes still lost in the newspaper. He sat down on the edge of Taichi's desk, cutting off half of his work space. Taichi's eyes narrowed in irritation.

"They should be paying me for this."

"You do get paid."

"I mean more. I'm a poor college student." Sakamoto started flipping through the rest of the pages, legs rocking back and forth beneath the desk.

Taichi started thumping his fist into Sakamoto's rear end to get him to vacate his work space, the other boy finally dropping back to his feet.

"What's the big deal about Wicker anyway?" Successfully having reclaimed his desk, Taichi began lugging out his lab notes and textbook.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to find out! So far I've only grazed the surface. I found a few articles at the library, but I know there's more. I just need to keep digging deeper." Sakamoto gestured towards his own desk and the folder sitting on top amongst the clutter of post-it notes, papers, and pencils. "Then I'll crack open the case and get offers from every newspaper around the country. It'll be great, trust me."

"This is your big scheme to get hired after graduation?" Taichi turned around in his chair incredulously, arm resting against the back.

To which Sakamoto lowered his shoulders with a sigh. "So far, yeah. I only have a year left. I'm tellin you-I need to do something big or I'll be back at my job busing tables like I never even went to college." He picked up the folder with his current research, letting it flop between his hands. "The life of a journalism major is tough."

Taichi shook his head with a little laugh before turning back around in his desk. "Well, I've gotta hand it to you for trying. I suppose I can oblige you for a while-lay on me what you've got so far."

Sakamoto brightened instantly, lips curling upwards like a cat on the prowl as he flourished his notes. "Well, good sir, I suppose I can inform you on the matter." He took a seat on the edge of his bed, landing with a bounce as he started rifling through articles and notebook pages. Taichi gestured with his finger that he was listening even while starting in on his own notes from the previous day's classes.

"The whole thing started about thirty years ago. There was a psychology student named Garner Cuttle who lived on the fourth floor of Wicker Hall. Apparently this Garner Cuttle character wasn't all right in the head. Reports say that he started kidnapping his fellow students on campus and locking them in his room. When they found the corpses, they were all gutted and disfigured, as if this Cuttle guy had been doing some weird experiments on them.

As if he wasn't crazy enough, one day he suddenly killed himself. Nobody's sure why... remorse? Guilt? Or simply his insanity taking over? When the police finally broke in, the only things they found were the bodies of the students and Cuttle lying on the floor having stabbed himself in the stomach with a scalpel. Really weird, disturbing shit." Sakamoto looked up at Taichi's back, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "Pretty fucked up, don't you think?"

Taichi nodded, half-concentrating on Sakamoto's story and half-concentrating on his hastily-scrawled notes on the Diels-Alder Reaction. "Pretty fucked up, yeah..."

Sakamoto turned a page in his notebook, paper thick between his fingers. "So now everyone's saying that his spirit haunts the dorm all vengeful-like. Which is why weird things keep happening."

"And you believe that?"

"Five testimonials are enough to make me suspect something's up. A reporter is nothing without his witnesses."

Taichi pursed his lips, balancing his pencil under his nose. "Yeah, well, I'm gonna need somethin' more concrete before I get takin' in by all those mumbo jumbo ghost stories. It's hogwash, if you ask me."

Sakamoto didn't respond, so he glanced over to find the other boy lying back on his bed, hands holding his notes above his face in diligent inspection. Taichi folded his lips back under, letting his pencil fall to the floor.

"Well, whatever. God speed and all that, I guess." He reached down to pick up the fallen pencil, twisting back in his chair. "I'm just saying though, there's nothing you can do to convince me these ghost-things are real."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sakamoto was standing under the big tree in Campus Square, hands shoved in his pockets and breeze shifting through the frayed ends of his hair. It was another chilly day, not even the sun doing much to warm him. He should have worn something warmer than his cardigan.

Campus Square was a small park just off-center from the middle of campus. Directly south was the library, twenty stories of books piled into narrow hallways and cramped rooms, and just east was the short path to the east-side dorms, Larson and Riley tall and identical, but Wicker short, old, and out of place, sandwiched between two dark willows. Students were milling back and forth along the path, some of them heading towards the library while others were making their way to the rest of campus, no doubt for class, as it was still too early for lunch. A few students had made themselves comfortable in the grass of the park, a blanket or jacket beneath them as they read from books or studied their notes. Just looking at them made Sakamoto feel cold.

He flipped open his phone to check the time, readjusting his messenger bag on his shoulder.

Five minutes past.

Goddammit.

Eyes scanning his environs, he pushed his hair out of his face, wind creeping in the gap between his wrist and sleeve and sending a chill all the way up his arm.

"Sorry, I'm late!"

There was a huff from behind him, and he turned around to find Nagano bent over and resting his hands on his knees.

"Class run long?"

A head shake. "No, but Dr. Ganske kept talking to me in the hall even after I told her I needed to leave. She's quite persistent, really."

"Watch out for that one. I wouldn't want to have to write a news bulletin about illicit student-teacher relations."

"Masa!" Nagano's eyes narrowed as he shot Sakamoto a dirty look, straightening his mussed hair. It didn't last long though, his face quickly softening as he looked around in owlish confusion. "Why was it you wanted me to come anyway? You didn't mention in your text."

"Investigation, my good man!" Sakamoto grinned widely, arms crossed in front of his chest. "For a very important case."

"...and why is it necessary I'm there?"

Nagano winced as Sakamoto brought his arm over his shoulder a bit too forcefully, nearly knocking him off his balance.

"Because where would I be without my nearest and most dear friend?" A laugh, but Nagano was clearly not buying it. "Also, I need to get into Wicker."

Nagano unlocked the main entrance to the ramshackle building he called home, the door creaking open to allow the two of them entrance, then closing with a slam as the wind forced it shut behind them.

"I read your article."

"Oh?" Sakamoto fixed his hair as the two of them stood for a moment in the entryway. "What'd you think? Pretty excellent reporting skills, am I right?"

"Well, it was certainly creepy. I've never had anything weird happen to me since I've been living here, but now you've got me all freaked out and thinking I keep hearing things."

"If something crazy happens, be sure and let me know. I'll add it to my next article."

"I'm so happy to know you're concerned about my mental well-being."

Their footsteps echoed in the wide entrance hall as they meandered towards the right side of the building and the door to the stairwell. The building creaked and shuddered around them with each gust of wind.

Nagano was a year behind Sakamoto-a junior in the elementary education program-but they'd grown up in houses across from each other, their days spent with plastic bowls on their heads as they'd explored drainage ditches and abandoned factories, and even after they'd both entered high school, Nagano'd never quite been able to escape Sakamoto's commands to join him on his various excursions and investigations, tiring treks that usually had them running all over town and talking to a deluge of questionable characters for the sake of journalism.

Though he'd followed Sakamoto to university a year later, Sakamoto's roommate at the time (a disagreeable fellow named Mark Davis) had hindered them from being able to room together, and Nagano's luck (or lack of it) found him in a single room on the second (and only boy's) floor of Wicker Hall. The entire dorm was a total of four floors, the first and third floors being for girls and the second for boys. The fourth floor was closed off and no longer used. It had originally been a boy's floor, but after having been the home of a certain Garner Cuttle back in the 70's, it had been restricted for use in housing students and now stood dark and empty, its windows boarded up and the staircase looped off with rope.

That same floor was where the boys headed now, stairs shaking and clattering beneath their shoes as they trudged up the three flights to the fourth floor. It was a simple task maneuvering around the rope that warded them against ascending the final staircase, Sakamoto holding the rope up for Nagano to duck under, and soon the thick shadows of the unlit fourth floor corridor surrounded them. The trembling of the building felt amplified at the greater height, boards shifting and creaking beneath their feet. The carpet was scuffed and dirty, years of neglect rendering it intelligible as the same carpet on the first three floors, and dust floated in the air where light bit in between the boarded up window frames, beams that cut through the darkness.

"...we're not gonna be up here long, are we?" Nagano was scratching his leg with his foot nervously, still one step behind Sakamoto and not appearing anxious to change that anytime soon.

"This is just the initial investigation. Staking things out, you know?" Sakamoto rolled up the sleeves of his cardigan, a bit warm now that they were inside. "I need to know what we're dealing with before I can plan for a more thorough inspection."

Stepping forward, he slowly ambled into the hallway, Nagano waiting a second before taking after him. The air felt stiff and heavy around them, almost pungent, an old musty smell hanging from the rafters overhead. The beams of light that bit into their faces every time they passed a boarded-up window only added to the surreal feeling of the hallway twisting and closing in around them.

Sakamoto reached into his bag, pulling out the folder of notes he'd been perusing only the night before. "He was room 413."

Nagano sped up his pace so he could walk alongside Sakamoto, hands instinctively curling up around his own arms despite the air being none too cool. "But it's locked up, isn't it?"

"Doesn't mean we can't check it out."

The two of them kept walking down the dusty hallway, wind blowing against the walls outside and a rotten stench drifting up from the carpet.

"413 would be... here, right?" Sakamoto was still holding his folder open, thumbs on the smooth manila as he turned to face the door on their right. It looked no different from the other doors they'd already passed, all dark cherry with a rusted-brass knob nailed into its facade and a gold number peeling off the woodwork.

413.

Nagano stared at it, bringing his arms down before sneezing at the dust gathering in his lungs. "...nothing real special about it, is there?"

Sakamoto checked his notes again to confirm, then simply shook his head. "Not much indeed." Fingers reaching out hesitantly, he took a hold of the knob, pausing for a moment before giving it a little twist.

It didn't budge.

"I told you it was probably locked."

"Didn't mean I wasn't gonna try it." Sakamoto chewed on his bottom lip as he surveyed the door, kneeling down once to examine the crack separating it from the carpet, then letting his eyes trace up and around, following the cracked frame around its entirety.

Finished with his initial observation, he stood back a pace, taking it all in as Nagano looked back and forth between him and the door.

Still not saying anything, he reached forward again, starting to spread his fingers before retracting them once, twice, then bringing them to the grain of the door, pressing his palm against it.

Cold.

It prickled against his skin. A strange, tingling feeling.

He withdrew his hand, wiggling his fingers as his eyes studied his palm, but nothing had changed. He'd simply imagined it. The tiny pinpricks across his skin.

"What is it?" Nagano was gazing down at his hand now, eyes blinking curiously.

"...probably nothing." But even as he said it, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, the strange prickle he'd felt on his hand only a moment ago passing up through his chest, branching out from his spine. "You touch it. Tell me what you feel."

"What, your hand?"

"No, the door, nitwit!"

Nagano rolled his eyes, stepping up to the door as Sakamoto had just done, spreading his fingers apart as he placed his hand against the door's surface.

"You feel anything?"

"Like what?"

It was silent for a moment, both of them just staring at the door. Nagano's eyes narrowed, brow furrowing as his lips pressed together. He leaned in closer, turning his head to the side so he could bring his ear closer to the grain, as if listening.

"What, you hear something?" Sakamoto cocked his head to the side, still idly rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.

Nagano just shook his head, eyes rolled upwards in concentration and mouth lax. There was another creak from beneath them, the wind pushing against the foundation and causing the boards to tremble beneath their feet.

"Hiroshi...?"

It was Sakamoto who noticed it first-the glistening of red. It dripped down from Nagano's nose to perch on his upper lip, quivering there until it grew heavy enough to glide down towards his chin.

"Holy shit, Hiroshi!" Sakamoto stepped forward, grabbing Nagano's shoulder with a jerk and pulling him away from the door. Droplets of blood flung off his chin at the force, the flow thickening now and covering his lips, jaw turning red.

Nagano's eyes flashed with confusion until he brought a hand up to his nose, feeling the hot liquid spill over his fingers and letting out a choked gasp. Clenching his palm tightly against his skin, he tried to stop the stream, but it continued to bubble out between his fingers, thick and dark down his chin.

"Tilt your head back, tilt your head back..." Sakamoto's hands were to his shoulders, directing his head back as the blood continued to slide down his neck, staining his shirt and dripping to the floor below. As his hair fell back at the new angle, Sakamoto noticed red spilling up from his ears as well, dribbling out from his ear canals and down through his hair.

"Shit, shit, shit..." His hands were shaking as they went to Nagano's ears, unsure, hesitant, but then pressing against them and trying to staunch the flow of blood. It was hot against his palms, sticky, but even as he pressed tightly, it started to trace down his wrists. "Sit down, ok? Sit down..." He followed him slowly to the floor, Nagano's head still pointed towards the ceiling and his eyes closed, the entire lower half of his jaw and neck now stained with blood.

Then all of a sudden, it slowed to a stop, trickling off as though drying up, no longer pushing against Sakamoto's hands. He pulled away, Nagano's head still angled backwards for another moment as he took a shaky breath, blood trembling on his lips.

"...you ok?"

Nagano opened his eyes, looking down first, at the red covering his hands and the state of his shirt, then back up at Sakamoto, eyes wide and shaking and unable to grasp what exactly was happening.

Sakamoto looked down at his own hands, palms red, little trails dark all the way down his arms. "That, uh... ever happen to you before?"

Nagano shook his head wordlessly, swallowing hard.

"That was weird, man. I thought it wasn't gonna stop."

Another shaky breath. Nagano closed his eyes heavily for a moment before opening them again.

"You don't suppose it was...?"

They both looked up at the door at Sakamoto's words, air thick and heavy between them, before turning back to each other, eyes meeting in horror.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The other boy was lying on his stomach in the grass outside atop an old flannel blanket, book perched between his fingers as the breeze blew at his hair, locks of it curling up and around his ears.

His face was soft, almost expressionless, but lips perched just so that it gave off the impression of curiosity, eyes moving back and forth across the words in his book, fingers turning its pages, lips parted, then tongue poking just out the side of his mouth before he blinked, long and slow, almost lazily, free hand up to push his bangs back and out of his eyes. Lips back together, pushed against each other, all lightish-pale pink and his cheeks flushed from the chill, folds of his sweatshirt wrapped up and around his skinny little arms.

Taichi's eyes were trained out the window when Tatsuya descended into his vision, giant face overtaking his view with a start.

"Starin' at somethin' pretty?"

Taichi balked, jerking backwards so fast he hit his hand on the underside of the table, sending a jolt of pain all up his arm.

"Shit, Tatsuya. Don't do that to me." He rubbed at the top of his hand, now red and tender, the same color as his cheeks. His jaw tight, he forced his eyes back towards the open textbook in front of him, hiding beneath the thick frames of his glasses.

Tatsuya took the seat across from him, dropping his bookbag on the table with a thud. "You were the one spying at a certain someone out the window. All I did was come to join you since we had indeed planned to study together at this time, had we not?" He raised his eyebrow, but Taichi continued to avoid his gaze.

"Yeah, yeah..." Taichi brought both hands back to the table, messing with his textbook, turning the page, then realizing he wasn't ready to go on yet and turning it back. His eyes flashed back towards the window, the object of his earlier concentration still lying as he'd been doing previously, completely absorbed in his book.

"Maybe if you spent more time studying and less time staring, you wouldn't be so pressed for time come paper-writing time."

"I wasn't staring." Taichi glared down at Tatsuya, who was now opening up his own book and rifling through his notebook.

"You were staring like a dog to a bone. You ever gonna actually talk to him?"

"Talk to who?" His eyes fell, focusing on a lead smudge in the middle of his notes from class earlier. It was a very annoying lead smudge, all gray and blurring the words around it, so he decided that he needed to fix it, eraser to the page as he diligently pushed it back and forth across the fibers.

Tatsuya shook his head with a roll of the eyes, hand up to pat down the blonde spikes of his hair. "You know he's a senior this year, right? This is your last year."

Taichi pressed his lips together, fingers coming to a stop in the middle of his erasing, little shavings littering the page. "I thought we were going to study."

"Alright, alright." Tatsuya held up his hands in defeat, but not without a little chuckle as he focused his eyes down on his own notes. "Diels-Alder Reaction, right? My favorite."

"We have a lab on it on Thursday, so..." Taichi flipped back and forth between two pages of his textbook, lowering his chin to his hand as his eyes scoured the text.

"Gotta read up on that shit, yo."

"Exactly." The smile crept back onto Taichi's face, and he let the page fall open to the earlier diagram he'd been studying.

He pressed the lead of his pencil onto a clean sheet in his notebook, copying down the bolded words from the right-most column of his textbook, careful with his spelling as he delicately curled his letters together. Halfway down the page, he let his eyes wander back to the window, widening for a second when he saw the figure outside stretch his arms above his head, yawning into the breeze before pushing himself to his feet and gathering up his blanket. His sweatshirt was still rolled up, a tiny glimpse of pink visible just beneath the rolls of fabric as he bent over, folding the flannel around his arms.

Taichi's grip on his pencil tightened, lead snapping against the paper.

"Taichi!"

Heart jumping in his chest, he flew back towards Tatsuya. Only Tatsuya wasn't looking at him, instead focused on the source of the voice, who was running across the study area of the library towards him, getting a few disapproving looks from the other students and staff in the area and apologizing to a girl whose bag he'd accidentally kicked across the floor.

"Taichi!" Sakamoto hissed it this time, quieter, to avoid getting yelled at as he finished his dash to the little recess Taichi and Tatsuya were currently occupying. He didn't stop until he was practically on top of him, hands to his shoulders and shaking him with a start. His eyes were as round as saucers, gaze intense.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Taichi instinctively pushed himself away, wiping at Sakamoto's hands until the other boy had released his grip. Sakamoto began smoothing down his shirt, calming his hair, hands shaky as he took a moment to find his breath. He looked behind him, watching as Nagano walked through the quiet library in a much more dignified fashion, joining him at the table.

"Hiroshi, man, the hell happened to your shirt?" Tatsuya was the first to speak up, his eyes glued to the red stains visible between the flaps of Nagano's jacket.

"That's why we came running over here!" Sakamoto's breath was still stilted, but he continued anyway. "We went to Wicker. You know, to the fourth floor..."

"Things got really weird." Nagano's voice was shaking.

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down..." Taichi waved his hands out in front of him, brow furrowing. "Why the hell did you go to the fourth floor?"

"To investigate, Taichi. I told you I was gonna solve this case!" Sakamoto's hands were outstretched as he leaned towards Taichi. "So we went up there, right? It was all boarded up and dark and shit. And we found the room. His room."

"Room 413." Nagano's hands were curled tightly around the back of one of the empty chairs.

"It was locked, of course, but... but I touched it, and it was all weird and cold. And then Hiroshi here, he... he musta got too close to it or something, freakin' starts... starts having this massive nosebleed."

"It was pouring out my nose!" Nagano emphasized the statement with his hands, wriggling his fingers out from the general vicinity of his nose.

"We couldn't stop it, like, it was even comin' out his ears, and then after like a minute or so, it just stopped on its own, but man, there was so much blood." Sakamoto shook his head in awe as though visualizing it again in his mind. "There's definitely something weird going on up there."

Taichi didn't look entirely convinced, leaning sideways on his arm and giving Nagano a good once over. "You get nosebleeds often, Hiroshi?"

Nagano shook his head with a stilted jerk. "Not once in my life."

"Well, maybe there was somethin' in the air up there. It has been pretty stuffed up for thirty-somethin' years. Body coulda reacted to it weird." Tatsuya's hands were splayed out to his sides.

Sakamoto pursed his lips together, shaking his head. "I've never heard of nosebleeds being that bad before. It was like someone'd cut his face open or something." He scratched at his chin. "And then after a minute it just stopped, as though it'd never been bleeding to begin with."

Taichi glanced across to Tatsuya, who simply returned the look. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, brain whirring and cogs turning beneath his scalp.

"I'm sure there's some perfectly logical explanation."

"You didn't see it. Or feel it. The air up there. There's something not right. A chill that seeps into your bones." Sakamoto's face was stony, hard. "Something up there is trying to keep us out."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Got the flashlights."

"I've got the camera."

"I've got my dignity."

Taichi kicked Tatsuya in the shin. Tatsuya promptly cursed and began jumping around the room.

"So we're doing this then?"

Sakamoto nodded, looking down at the camera in his hands and locking his jaw tight. The spit in his mouth felt thick and sticky going down his throat, stomach gurgling anxiously, but he was ready to go all the same.

It was dark outside the window of Nagano's dorm room, autumn clouds black against the night sky and blocking out the moon. Nagano had let them into the dormitory about twenty minutes prior, the four of them now forming what looked like a prayer circle in the middle of Nagano's room, faces a combination of fear and concealed excitement.

"Let's do this thing then."

They were already on the second floor, so they only needed to go up two flights, their shoes left behind at Nagano's door to conceal their footsteps, stockinged feet silent as the grave as they walked and only the occasional creaking board giving away their presence.

The lights in the dorm hallways had already been turned off, a red exit light at the far end the only thing illuminating the path and painting everything in an eerie red hue. They waited until they were in the stairwell before clicking on the flashlights, the added light necessary to keep from stumbling over uneven steps or getting a face-full of rear end.

They made it up to the fourth floor without hitch, the four of them tip-toeing out into the vacant hallway, this time without even the light of an exit sign to use as a guide. It was pitch black, like coal, almost tangible, and Taichi was half-scared to shine his flashlight out into the expanse, as if afraid of what he might see.

The two beams of light illuminated nothing that wasn't expected, however, just one straight long hallway that led to the end of the building, doors lining it on the right side and the occasional boarded-up window on the left. The carpet was gray with dust, its colors faded and its fibers twisted and gnarled, dancing beneath the light of the beams.

"Which room did you say it was?" Taichi's voice was quiet in the still hallway, hissed out from the back of his throat.

"413. More towards the middle, but not too far."

They all simply stood there a moment, none of them wanting to take the first step into that long, cavernous hallway with its mouth-like doors. Finally, Tatsuya grabbed the flashlight Nagano had been carrying and took off, the boards creaking beneath his socks. The other three followed behind him wordlessly, Taichi shining his flashlight around at the walls and doors they passed. Each door loomed like a gaping black hole until the light of his flashlight reflected off their brass door knobs and gold-plated numbers, the familiar dormitory regalia helping to ease some of the underlying fear.

"413, you said?" Tatsuya again, his voice scratchy.

"Yeah." Sakamoto stepped forward past Taichi to where Tatsuya had stopped, the light from his flashlight centered on the next door to their right. The number 413 seemed dull and lifeless beneath the beam, its luster long gone.

"This is it."

The four of them gathered around it in a makeshift semi-circle, both Taichi and Tatsuya's flashlights illuminating the length of the dark cherry wood in brilliant high-contrast.

Nagano brought his hands to his arms, rubbing at them with a shiver. Taichi let his bottom lip pout out in concentration, his eyes roving the details of the grain and worn-out frame.

"Seems like any other door."

Sakamoto nodded. "Yeah, there's nothing weird about it or anything... besides the fact that a crazy person killed himself inside thirty years ago." The last part of his statement was said with a smirk. "Anyways, let me take some pictures first before we forget."

He pulled out his camera, the cheerful little series of beeps as it turned on comforting in the lonely hallway. Clicking through settings, he finagled the aperture up and down to what he'd hoped would be the proper settings for the situation, taking a few steps back until he was pressed against the far wall.

"Step back guys."

They did as they were told, watching as Sakamoto snapped a few shots of the door, moving around to get it at a number of different angles and zooming in on some of the details such as the door knob and room number.

Taichi watched in rapt silence, the flashlight starting to feel sticky and wet from the sweat on his hand even despite the chill of the air around them. He brought his other hand up to readjust his glasses, heart pitter-pattering in his chest to a strange, foreign rhythm.

"You almost done, Mr. Photographer?"

Sakamoto pulled the camera away from his eye, flipping it vertical to turn the screen on and preview his pictures. "Yeah, I should be." There was a moment of silence. Then. "...that's weird."

Nagano stepped over to him as Sakamoto continued messing with his camera, face dark in the shadows. "What is it?"

"Pictures won't show up." Sakamoto was clicking through the pictures he'd taken, but all that came up in the box was one black screen after the next, as if the lens cap had been on or the settings had been too dark.

"You sure those are the pictures you just took?"

"Have to be. I deleted all the rest of the stuff on here before bringing it out tonight."

"Maybe the settings were messed up?"

Sakamoto frowned, nose scrunching up in obvious annoyance at the technical failure of his equipment.

Taichi watched for another few moments, then took things upon himself and stepped over to the door. Fingers outstretched, he wavered a moment, hand quivering in the beam of Tatsuya's flashlight, before he placed his palm against the door's surface.

He only had it there a second before he jerked it back, fingers tingling with pain.

"Shit!"

The other three looked at him in concern, Sakamoto no longer looking at his camera and Tatsuya repositioning his flashlight on Taichi.

"What happened?"

Taichi blew on his hand, fingers still tingling and palm alight with tiny pinpricks. "Goddamn thing felt like a hot plate or something. Felt like it burned my hand." It looked like the pads of his fingers had turned a darkened pink, but he couldn't tell if it was just a trick of the light.

Taichi's eyes went back to the grain of the wood, everything about it perfectly normal, old but sturdy, a layer of dust reflecting off the light of his beam everywhere except for where he'd just placed his hand.

Maybe he was just imagining things.

Tatsuya stepped forward this time, eyes narrowed in suspicion. His fingers hovered just before touching the aged wood, suspended and trembling, then pressed against it lightly, softly at first, until his whole hand was flush against the smooth surface.

He stood there a few moments, no reaction out of his face nor movement to pull away. Finally, he just looked at Taichi, shaking his head.

"It's cold."

He stepped back, glancing down at his hand in the darkness and wiggling his fingers.

"You didn't feel anything?" Taichi felt that horrible tingle of doubt turn into hot acid in the back of his throat. It felt like he was wrong somehow, a great big "good luck next time" stamp plunging down on his forehead.

Tatsuya just shook his head, glancing back once at the door before moving his eyes between the other three. "Felt like a normal door."

Sakamoto gave up on his camera, sliding it into the pocket of his hoodie. "When I touched it earlier it..." His eyebrows furrowed. "...it felt, I don't know. It tingled. Like, all over my hand, all over the skin, all these little pinpricks." He raised his hand, gazing down at it as he spoke.

Taichi's frown deepened, and he turned back towards the door. Raising his hand again, he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Only to be interrupted by a heavy thud that seemed to come from the other side of the door.

The four of them stopped instantly, no one moving, no one breathing, no one even blinking.

Taichi felt his heart thump against the inside of his throat. His mouth was dry.

Finally. "...did you guys hear that?"

There was a simultaneous series of head nods from the rest of the semi-circle, none of them able to tear their eyes away from the door.

Taichi pursed his lips together, biting down on his tongue before pressing his hand to the door.

It was different this time. For a second. Like a normal door, the texture of the grain beneath the pads of his fingers, pressed against his palm. Then the pinpricks. Starting like a little circle in the middle of his hand before working their ways out, fuzzy and tingly, making his hand itch as the door rose in temperature against his skin. A drop of sweat worked down the back of his neck as his hand grew warmer, flames lapping at his fingertips.

He couldn't breathe. His throat was so dry it felt like sandpaper, the hallway growing unbearably warm around him. He wanted to pull his hand away, free himself from the heat, tears springing to his eyes as his skin prickled and boiled against the door's surface, but he couldn't. He was locked in place. Time standing still.

Another thump. Loud and pronounced against the door, making the frame shake and rattle and the floorboards creak. Taichi felt something reach through the door and lace around his fingers.

He screamed and flew backwards, nearly running into Sakamoto and Nagano behind him. Heart surging in his ears, he felt the tears that had been gathering in his eyes release at once as he tried to blink through them and look down at his hand. He expected to see bright red puckered skin, but instead, his hand appeared unscathed, the same yellowish pink as always.

He shook his head to clear away his thoughts and tears. "H-holy... shit, guys, did you...?"

But he couldn't finish. Tatsuya was staring at him in horror, and when he turned to Sakamoto and Nagano, their eyes grew round in shock.

Taichi brought a hand up to his nose, his fingers coming back red.

"Oh shit."

He clamped both hands to the underside of his nose, but it was too late, the blood already streaming down his lips and chin, trails of it dripping down his neck, the warmth of it gushing between his fingers. It felt like his life was pouring out of him, hot and red and sticky in big dark globs, seeping between his lips, coppery on his tongue as it stained his teeth.

He couldn't seem to hear, the others' voices fuzzy and warped even as Sakamoto grabbed his shoulders and Tatsuya's hands went to his face. Blood was oozing from his ears, tickling his skin as it bubbled and pooled in each little crevice before running down the sides and dribbling to the floor, following the curve of his neck.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the blood seeped between his teeth, slurring his tongue and mixing with his saliva.

"F-... fuck, somebody... do something..." Each word pushed another clot out between his lips, thick and red and dribbling to the floor.

Tatsuya's light went out.

"Sh-shit!" He pounded on it with the heel of his hand, panic rising up in the back of his throat.

Taichi's flashlight was still on the ground where he'd dropped it, illuminating the far hallway, but then it went out too, and the four of them were blanketed in darkness.

"Oh fuck, oh shit!"

There was a flurry of movement as they all reached out at once, hands and arms flailing as Nagano whimpered and Sakamoto cursed. Tatsuya was the first one to flee though, turning on his heels with a "fuck this shit," the creak of the floorboards following him as he sprinted as fast as he could in the darkness back towards the stairwell.

The others were quick to follow, Taichi still coughing up blood with his hands to his ears as he almost stumbled over the mass of feet around him, thundering around him. He couldn't see. He could barely hear. Could barely breathe.

Somewhere far off he heard the clank of stairs, and knew Tatsuya must have made it to the stairwell. But what had seemed far off was actually right in front of him, two more steps nearly sending him over the top of the stairs and crashing down four stories to the bottom. Nagano's back a few feet in front of him saved him from could have been a fatal tumble, and in a flurry he grabbed onto the handrail, his hands still slick with blood and sliding this way and that along the iron rail.

Their footsteps echoed in the stairwell as they flew down the stairs to the second floor, red light of the exit sign a warm welcome as they emerged into the carpeted hallway.

Taichi's hands were back on his ears as he ran, nearly stumbling down the last stair as he swerved onto level ground. Then he was sprinting after the other three, throat and lungs filled with phlegm and blood and making his head spin.

There was the sound of a door opening not more than five paces in front of him, but he didn't register it until it was too late and he plowed into the soft body suddenly in his way.

He nearly fell over, latching on to the fabric of the other's clothes for a second to steady himself, then pulling off abruptly with a wrenching gasp.

The eyes that met his were big and round and gazing at him in a terrified stupor. Framing the eyes was a mess of familiar brown curls, their owner standing awkwardly in a now-bloodied set of nightclothes, his lips parted in confusion.

Taichi felt his heart stop.

"Oh fuuuuuuck..."

His hands went to his nose as if he could somehow hide the bloody mess, his face on fire.

"T-... Taichi?"

But Taichi didn't respond, pupils shaking in their sockets as he took off down the hallway, not stopping until he made it back to Nagano's room and the door was slammed shut behind him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This is everything I could find from the newspaper rack."

There was a thump, and Nagano winced as the stack of papers crushed his fingers beneath. Pulling his hands away, a few of the top issues slid off haphazardly, decorating the tabletop already dotted with books, old magazines, and print-outs.

"Excellent, excellent..." Sakamoto didn't even look up from the book he was poring through-an old book of documented mental illness cases. His eyes were so near the page, his nose was grazing the print, lips tightly pressed against each other.

"You didn't even look." Nagano was trying to straighten the newspapers, but every time he relocated a stray back to the top of the pile, one underneath it would slide out.

Sakamoto didn't move for a moment, then looked up, a quick glance, before he was back in the thick book with its grayed pages.

"Thanks." Nagano huffed beneath his breath before taking a seat next to his occupied friend. The bump as his knee hit the table shook the pile of newspapers, and the top of the pile dispersed completely, newsprint falling to the floor with subsequent thwaps. With an elongated sigh, he got to the floor to start cleaning up the mess.

There was a thwack, and Sakamoto closed his book, tossing it off to the side.

"Nothing." He held out a hand expectantly. "Give me some of those papers."

Nothing for a moment, then Nagano threw a paper up over the table, slapping the side of Sakamoto's head.

"Violent, but efficient." Sakamoto didn't even falter, picking up the paper with a crisp flick and laying it flat across the table.

Nagano was frowning when he stood back up, a pile of papers slumped in his hands as he made a new stack next to the original one to prevent future collapse. The silence returned, Nagano carefully evening out the folded newsprint while Sakamoto ran his finger down columns of faded old text.

When Nagano sat down, Sakamoto let out a sigh, folding up the paper before grabbing a new one from the stack.

"This was everything I could find that had some mention of paranormal activity on campus or around town... but not necessarily anything about this Garner guy or the room in Wicker." Nagano fished through the pile of newsprint before gently pulling one out, glancing over the headlines.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah...!" Sakamoto's finger pointed towards the ceiling, his eyes still glued to the text.

"What is it?" Nagano leaned over, and Sakamoto lowered his hand back down to trace his index finger over a piece of text below a black and white picture of a dirty old room.

Sakamoto's breath was hissed as his lips began systematically forming the words printed in old seriffed type.

"Doctors were questioned about the events that took place at Dulbruk University, but they had no answers. Dr. Charles Grayson, one of Cuttle's psychiatrists before he attended Dulbruk, was able to give some insight into the boy's condition, but remains puzzled as to how he could have digressed so quickly after being released from the facility."

Nagano licked his lips, looking up from the faded print and narrowing his eyes at Sakamoto. "...he was in the loony bin?"

Sakamoto didn't say anything for another moment, eyes still roving down the rest of the text as his face hardened, then folded up the paper, laying it off to the side.

"It would appear so. But where? And why?"

"You don't think he was at Oswald's, do you?"

Sakamoto brought a hand up to tap at his chin, eyes trained somewhere in the middle of the table where the grain knotted together.

"That's a possibility. Wait, when was that paper dated?" He leaned forward, finger finding the date in the top right corner where the paper was frayed. "...1978. Ok, find one from like... a year or two prior. Somebody getting committed to Oswald's would have been in the papers somewhere."

They spread the stack of papers out across the table so they could check the dates more efficiently, fingers shifting through the grayed pages and flicking through issue after issue. Nagano pulled one out from 1976 and start sifting through it, but it proved useless so he tossed it off to the side. Sakamoto found two next to each other from 1977, but again, there was nothing about Garner, Oswald's, or Dulbruk.

It wasn't until Nagano was fingering through an issue from September 1975 that his eyes widened and he let out an almost strangled gasp in his haste to inform Sakamoto. Mouth still fumbling for words, he spread the paper out in front of them, knocking a few of the others to the floor.

The column he was jabbing at with his index finger was small, only intended for listing short updates about residents across town.

But it had what they were looking for.

"September 3rd, 1975: Garner Cuttle (19) admitted to Special Health Ward at Oswald's Psychiatric Facility."

Sakamoto rapped the paper with his knuckles. "This is what we needed. Now we have something to work off of."

Nagano glanced up, sitting back in his chair. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we need to go to Oswald's. They'll have the records we need. They'll have patient files, reports... hell, some of the same doctors that worked with him might even still be there."

"I'm not going to some psycho ward!" The color quickly drained from Nagano's cheeks.

But Sakamoto wasn't even looking at him, tapping his finger restlessly on the table and staring off at some unknown point in front of him. "Oh hush. It's more of a research center now. I don't even know if they still admit patients. Though the question is whether or not they'll give us access to the information..."

Nagano's voice still trembled, though he appeared to have calmed considerably. "Still..."

"We could get one of the professors in the psychology department to sign off for us. They're more likely to divulge information if they think it's for academic research."

"What're you guys doing all holed up in here?"

Both Sakamoto and Nagano jumped at the new voice, Sakamoto twisting around in his chair with a whirl while Nagano whapped his knee against the table.

The intruder was standing at the entrance to their cubby in the library, head cocked to the side in curious inquisition. His soft brown curls fluttered to the side with the movement of his head.

The sudden tension left Sakamoto's shoulders, and a sigh wisped past his lips. "Oh, Shige. Hey." He turned back to the newspapers still spread in front of him. "Just, er... research."

Joshima walked in casually, still poised in rapt curiosity as his owlish eyes surveyed their mess of books and papers. "Being pretty thorough, huh?"

Nagano laughed nervously. "I guess you could say that."

Joshima Shigeru was a senior in the creative writing program, having taken a number of the same classes as Sakamoto until their two tracks ultimately diverged from each other, Sakamoto immersed in classes on reporting and field research while Joshima'd put his pen to fiction writing, world creation, and peer workshops. He had a strange, almost whimsical, aloof way of holding himself that left many thinking him to be flighty and a bit of an airhead, but Sakamoto'd learned long ago that Joshima simply functioned at a different pace than most other people, more keen on getting lost in his own little worlds than interacting with those around him.

Mostly, Sakamoto just felt like Joshima was his own special breed.

Joshima began glancing through their research materials, pink fingertips shifting through newsprint and articles with little flicks. "Does this have anything to do with what you were doing last night?"

Sakamoto's breath left him for a moment, lungs catching in his chest and muscles twisting with a startled jerk. Beside him, Nagano's mouth was hanging open in a lax circle, as though he'd been about to say something.

"...last night?"

Joshima just smiled in strange encouragement. "Yeah, when you were all racing down the hall?" Then his eyes fell, lips twisting in worry. "Though I have to ask if everything was ok, what with Taichi covered in blood and all." He blinked his eyes in rapid succession, gaze searching Sakamoto's face for an answer.

Sakamoto cringed, looking down at the mess of papers in front of them and tapping his fingers against the side of the table.

"Yeah, everything was, uh... it was... fine."

"We were investigating that room on the fourth floor."

Nagano winced as Sakamoto stomped on his shoe, but the words were already out.

Joshima's eyes dilated. "You mean where...?"

Sakamoto sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as a sigh passed his lips. "Yeah, where that student killed himself." He tilted his head to the side. "We're researching the Garner Cuttle case. Seeing if we can figure out the whole mess with the hauntings in Wicker and what-not."

Joshima whistled. "That's impressive."

"Wait, you live in Wicker too, don't you, Shige?" Nagano leaned forward on the table, arms pressed against the stacks of newspapers. "You ever notice anything weird?"

Joshima brought a finger to his lips, tapping it rhythmically as his eyes narrowed. After a few moments, he shook his head. "Not that I can think of. Which is a shame, really, as I always thought it'd be fun..."

Sakamoto laughed. "Not sure most would agree with you there."

"Maybe I'm a little weird in that aspect, huh?" Joshima scratched the back of his head, fingers running through his curls. He then stopped, hand still entangled in his hair and face frozen in bemused thought. "Wait, then what in the world happened to you last night? Did something happen while you were...?"

Sakamoto and Nagano glanced at each other, identical looks of discomfort stretched across their faces. Finally, Sakamoto patted at the table with a sigh. "Sit down, you might be here a while..."

Part 2