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Shishikura doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, he doesn’t know why this is happening or what’s gotten into him lately.
It hurts—it hurts so bad to see the people who trusted you now hesitating to even stand near you, to look you in the eye.
But what can he expect? He’s a monster, a no good man who would do anything for the sake of his health and humanity.
He’s a sick, sick man.
No amount of regret and guilt can ever make up for the sins he’s committed, for the amount of plunges stabbed into Kumada chest, for all her blood spilled into the measly trash bags. Her body, discarded as it was nothing. She was a person, a person with hopes and dreams, a possible will to live.
Shishikura threw her life away in an instant, and for what? It meant nothing in the end—Daiki’s little charade made sure of that.
And although it meant nothing in hindsight, it cost him everything. His friends, the people he trusted, Maekawa.
Why does Shishikura care so much now though? He didn’t seem to care when he committed the act, well knowing that if he were to succeed, everyone in that building would die.
Maybe the guilt was overshadowed by a sense of hope, a sense that he could put this all behind and go back to the shrine—live his life as normally as possible.
A murderer doesn’t deserve that kind of life though, Shishikura deserves penance, penance for his sins.
Isolation seemed like a good idea, and it was doing a fairly decent job. Shishikura doesn’t remember the last time he’d actually interacted with one of his classmates on purpose since the trial. (Yokoi had tried to knock on his door a few times—but he refused to answer. She’ll be fine without him I’m sure.)
On the third day of this isolation, another knock emerged from the door. It was frantic, heavy even, far from Yokoi’s light and hesitant taps.
“Sh-Shishikura…?”
…
Atsushi’s voice rang out from the door, shaky and out of breath. Shishikura refused to answer, assuming that it would be another weak attempt to coax him out of the room.
“Shishikura please—please I need you to answer. I-it’s important I swear.”
Another knock came soon after the plea, much more aggressive than Shishikura anticipated. He felt fear strike down his spine, but yet curiosity got the best of him.
Slowly, he slid off the bed and made his way to the door. His hand hovered above the golden knob as he contemplated whether or not to even entertain his antics. It seemed serious though– and if Atsushi was really reaching out to him out of everyone then—
“Shishikura! Oh—oh god..thank god you opened the door…” Before Shishikura could even react, Atsushi sprung onto him, knocking the other down to the floor.
“A-Atsushi! You can’t just…” Shishikura began to trail off from his sentence, the familiar smell of metal wafted through his nose.
Freezing stiffly, he trailed his eyes down to the source, fixating on Atsushi’s arms.
Irritated and swollen—his arms were littered with deep lacerations, although some were cleaned up to the best of their abilities, a majority of them were still fresh, dripping with blood.
Shishikura wanted to scream at him, tell him to go rush to Hirose—find a first aid kit, anything.
“A-Atsushi…” Was all Shishikura managed to choke out, his mouth stayed agape. The boy was still on top of Shishikura, confused by his initial shock as if he wasn’t currently bleeding out on him.
Carefully, Shishikura's shaky hands latched onto Atsushi’s arms. He silently winced at the wounds, taking a deep look at them. Shishikura wasn’t stupid, they were jagged sure—but the intent was there, self-inflicted by Atsushi himself.
“W-why…Atsushi–what happened!?” Shishikura sputtered out, looking at Atsushi with terror in his eyes. A normal person would have probably ran away by now, calling to get any sort of help possible.
Though as established—Shishikura had now far passed being normal, maybe he really was a monster. A good friend—perhaps Yokoi, would’ve grabbed Hirose in an instant, perhaps that’s why Atsushi didn’t go straight to Yokoi. She’d know Shishikura would hesitate, wanting to hear his side of the story first rather than usher for someone else.
Atsushi didn’t answer his question though, choosing to ignore Shishikura. The other latched onto him harshly, almost cradling and hugging him such as a child would do to a stuffed animal.
The action would’ve been rather sweet and comforting if not for the current situation, Shishikura felt himself go dizzy from the strong scent of blood, smearing all across his pajamas and skin.
“I—I’m so glad you’re here…please I need you here with me—y-you can’t…” Atsushi began to mindlessly ramble, stroking the back of Shishikura's hair softly.
The action oddly reminded Shishikura of his mother. Back when he used to live with her that is. Whenever he had a hard time taking his injections, or before going into a surgery, no matter how bad a day was or how harsh she had been minutes before. She’d always find a way in Shishikura's arms, coddling and comforting him, reminding him that he'd always be his baby boy.
The thought of his mother made him sick to his stomach. He forced himself to snap back into reality and assess the ongoing issue at front.
“I–I can’t what..?” Shishikura questioned, his arms began to snake to the back of Atsushi’s waist. The whole ordeal had been uncomfortable, it’s the least he can do though. He doesn’t mean to be so pushy—he’s clearly distressed, he just needs someone to be there for him. Even if that person must be Shishikura himself…
“You can’t—you can’t leave…please—please I need you to stay here with me…” Atsushi stammered out, his warm breath trailing down Shishikura's neck.
“D-Daiki—you can’t be like Daiki, you can’t leave Shishikura…” Shishikura shuddered at the mention of Daiki. Ah. Was this all about…him?
It wasn’t crazy to say the two had a close relationship, everyone sane enough could see it. Shishikura isn’t very fond of Tei comforting an estranged killer such as him, but grief shows in all different ways doesn’t it?
“I—I uhm…” Shishikura couldn’t promise Atsushi that he’d stay. Anyone and everyone in this game is unpredictable—Shishikura was an obvious example of this. Days from now, he could be caught off guard and murdered in cold blood. (Not to say that he doesn’t deserve it, he wishes that Maekawa had the guts to rip him apart the moment he was outed as a murderer.)
The same could happen to Atsushi too, he clearly isn’t well. There must be someone in this entire facility waiting to pounce on the boy, taking the opportunity to rip him apart, leaving behind a legacy of an overworked man who needed nothing more than support from others.
Shishikura isn’t an honest man though, not in the slightest. So he does what he can do best. Be the filthy liar he is and betray another loved one.
“I-…I promise..? I- promise, I won’t leave you Atsushi.”
Shishikura is nothing short of a monster. He’s many things, a liar, scumbag, filthy no good sinner, the exact opposite of what most would believe. Perhaps he was like this all along—just needing the right surroundings and opportunity for it to shine.
It was always meant to be this way, and it will always be this way. For as long as Shishikura lives, he will always live with a heart of sin.