The room Rantaro settled in was spacious enough for his voice to echo throughout.

The wooden floorboards were smooth without splintering, the windows were clean, the bed was fixed nicely, and the shades looked relatively new. For a guest room, if could call it that, he would mistake it for a room one of the two siblings used.

How generous.

He placed his small suitcase at the far corner of the room and flopped into his bed. It was so soft that he could just melt into the mattress when he was sleeping.

"Geez, I could drown in this," Rantaro spoke to himself.

He bounced softly in place, not a spring in sight; just pure cotton.

The door opened unexpectedly and Korekiyo was on the other side with a bowl of soup in his hands. Rantaro stopped his bouncing and took the bowl, saving him the conversation of why his friend was having so much fun using his bed as a trampoline.

"Thank you," Korekiyo bowed and nodded.

"No need. Enjoy."

He shuts the door behind him and slumps his shoulders. His flat shoes tap monotonously as he steps downstairs then sitting on the leather couch as it squeaked pathetically under his weight.

The girl sitting next to him curled her hand around his, rubbing each individual knuckle with her thumb.

"You did the right thing, dear. You would only want me to show affection towards you, aren't I correct, my sweet Korekiyo? Love overshadows all, that enough is common knowledge. Who would have the nerve to disrupt the natural order, hm?"

She giggled darkly and pressed her red stained lips against his cheek. The pause in his usual response in showering her with affection look of love, replaced with a look of tenebrosity - understandably, infuriates her internally, nonetheless.

"The sleeping pills would work its course quickly. It would as if he didn't exist in the first place."

His eyebrows raised, not in happiness or reassurance, but in a neutral consensus.

His whole existence is one ironic joke, an absolute laughing stock. It didn't bother him because he was aware of this. A specialist in humanity that can't even fit in? It was like a tree without a trunk; a car without wheels.

The only solace he felt in his life was from her. An absolute being, something above this plane, of kindness, understanding, and patience took care of him from when he was nine forward dared laid eyes on him, touch him, help him.

He couldn't believe he was related to someone like her.

They their shared solitude, not with their absence of friends, but their combined superiority. They share a thicket of poisonous flowers that they live and thrive on, eat and pick through for fun.

"I only worry from natural circumstance. I apologize for my disobedience."

Thin red lips curl upwards in approval, "Aren't you the worrywart, dear?"

She handles his chin with a thumb and pointer, tilting his head down and eyeing him.

"I guess that could be said."

She chuckles and plants another kiss on his cheek.

"It's time to retire for the day. Good night, dear."

"Good night, Sister."

They exchange a hug and depart to their own rooms. Korekiyo ruffled in his pockets and threw out the unprescribed drugs.

They play in poisonous flowers for fun. Her petals are red and his are green. When he goes to further damage his rotting insides, it didn't hurt like it used to.

They thrive in the virulent thicket, but he was sure his leaves were medicinal.

—————————>

Shuichi lounged around, stress corroding his mind again.

He was anxious about the upcoming update he was supposed to get later. He was bored out of his mind and had nothing to do. He had his homework done recently and didn't have the patience to check it over; that is a point of repetitive emptiness that he would not even entertain the thought of.

He sits up and checks his phone. A few messages from Mokoto for the future student council meeting, some spam emails, and other things he had seen already.

He crossed his legs and yawned. He didn't know that his downtime could be so boring. Being the best detective there is sounded action-packed; being couped up in your office in front of a tackboard with strands of thread going every which way until you finally get that pump of adrenaline when you realize that first suspect you let off the hook was in the middle of that board.

You already imagine they have begun planning their escape. You rub your eyes after staring at papers and folders all day and pack everything into the bundle of, surprisingly, five or portfolios and leave.

'What's the progress?' One of your acquaintances ask.

'Bring in so and so from a few days ago, ' you respond coldly.

They looked confused at first, but they eventually comply.

The next day comes and-

the phone rings.

His ringtone juts him out of a hopeful parallel. He has a bleak imagination at times, but hopes and dreams don't fit in this category. So, he is free to picture whatever TV show he could resemble it to.

"Hello, Maru?"

"Hey, yeah, you wanted the type, right?" She sounded just as tired and drained as he was, most likely more so.

"Yeah, you can drop off the documents in the office."

"It was A... positive, I think. I wanna save you the time waiting but I'm not a hundred percent certain."

"It's fine, I'll wait. Ironically, that was the type of the victim."

Her laugh was airy, it was more of an exhale that an actual laugh honestly, "It's cool to take chances once in a while. You've been on this case for how long? A month? Being a bit ahead doesn't hurt."

Shuchi leaned back in his head bed, "No thanks. I rather have evidence and go on from there than go in the completely wrong direction."

Maru nodded to herself, "Understandable, goodbye Saihara."

"Likewise."

He turned off his phone and slipped in the covers of his bed. On the bright side, he could finally sleep comfortably for once, on the down side, he doesn't know where Rantaro went.

He gasps in realization.

Kokichi most definitely knows.