Everyone went up to the second floor. Not in hope, not in despair, simply because it was said: "There should be an axe there." And yes, it should have been there, but it wasn't. And this "wasn't" turned out louder than any "was."
Glass in pieces.
The axe evaporated.
Logic went out for cigarettes.
"W-what the... hell!" Enua flared up as if the glass in the display case had shattered right inside his head. "I didn't do this! Until this moment I didn't even know it was here! Everyone who saw me knows, I never once went up to the second floor!"
"Then... how do you explain the axe's disappearance?" Yahweh asked.
"Agreed," Hov picked up. "If you have an alibi, prove it disappeared."
I listened, but already knew where this was going. Enua and I had discussed this. The idea of dividing into groups from Yahweh and Hov — it wasn't a strategic plan, but rather quiet sabotage. They didn't like Enua, they didn't like his potential to be the first killer. And now they were simply using the first opportunity to pin the blame on him.
"I... don't give a damn whether you believe me or not!" Enua clenched his fists. "You've been against me from the start, but why me?! Anyone could've gone out! Yahweh! Hov! Tiamut! Even you, Kamiki! Why are you pointing at me?!"
"Because," Kamiki made a theatrical pause. "I have proof that it could only have been you."
"As soon as we dispersed to our rooms," he began. "I immediately called Hov and Yahweh, I had suspicions. From the very beginning, that you'd be the first who might kill, and then... I left the line open. We didn't hang up, if someone opened the door, we would've heard."
Strike. Precise. Cold, right to the weak spot.
"Our group is beyond suspicion, but yours... You have no alibi."
Enua... was silent, because check, because checkmate. Because he understood, he was simply outplayed.
He planned everything in advance... Every option, every move. That bastard wrote the script, and we're only playing roles in it...
"You have no proof of your innocence," Hov summarized. "Confess. You killed Gerudo."
"If you confess..." Yahweh added. "We won't touch you, we'll just escort you outside. And you... will sail away."
Three against one.
Aragi the fourth.
The only one who still believed Enua. But even faith doesn't replace evidence.
"Excuse me," a voice came from the side. "We woke up... you're too loud..."
Cheryl and Morgana stood on the stairs. They didn't know yet, but they would now.
Everything was explained to them, they were led to the kitchen, shown. The first and most painful "incident."
"AAA! What for?! Why him?!" Morgana screamed. Without filters, without masks. Simply sincerely. "G-Gerudo-sama..."
She fell to her knees. Cried.
"Enough. Morgana, it's... all..." Cheryl was calm. Too calm, but in his voice... in his voice something trembled.
"We'll bury him after the rain. And conduct a cleaning of the kitchen, forgive her."
An hour passed. The participants gathered in the living room. Everyone except one. Enua remained in the bedroom.
"Sorry if I'm intruding," I approached the girl sitting on the steps. "Here, take a handkerchief."
"Y-you needn't worry about me... Mister Aragi."
"Really? What if I want to? Can I really just stand and watch a girl cry alone, on cold steps, like in a cheap film? Sorry, but that's not my style. So take it."
"Th-thank you..."
She wiped her eyes.
"Feel better?"
"Yes... I'm fine now. Thank you, Mister Aragi. You shouldn't have... an honored guest, for a simple instrument."
"Honored?"
"Oh! Forgive me! I didn't..."
"It's nothing. On the contrary, forgive me. It seems Gerudo was very close to you, and I... I came too late."
"Don't say that, it's not your fault. Cheryl and I should have been watching, but we went to rest... And he... stayed. Why did he stay?"
"Even if he'd left," I looked at her. "It wouldn't have changed anything. If the witch chose a target... she gets it."
"Perhaps... you're right. We heard your conversation... Forgive us."
"I told you, don't apologize. Say everything on your mind."
She blushed.
Sat close.
Only now realized how close.
"Forgive me... We could've been seen..."
"A-hah-hah. Even if they see us, let them think what they want. And I... I'm glad I dispelled my dark thoughts."
Silence.
Calm.
"So what was Gerudo to you? Cheryl looked calm, but you... you seemed like you'd lost family."
"He was our family. He worked here even under the first master. This island is named after him. Gerudo served him alone. For a long time, but with age it became hard, and he hired us. Cheryl and I studied at a school where children are made into... 'instruments.'"
"Instruments?"
"Yes... We were taught to be obedient. We were beaten, but I don't blame them. They gave us shelter. And when we turned twelve, we were sent to Saint Olgia's school, with a three-year course. The best went to influential families, we made that list. And met Gerudo-sama. He treated us... like children."
"We've worked here for seven years. He became true family to us."
"Forgive me if I've tired you..."
"No. You're... you're strong, you're not an instrument. You're a person."
I took her hands.
"You're a real, living person. With a heart, with a soul, with pain and light. Never, you hear? Never call yourself an 'instrument.' Especially around me."
"I-I'm sorry..."
I pulled my hands back. Blushed. Classic.
"You needn't apologize. You're... an amazing person. I didn't think I'd meet someone like this in my life again. From this moment... I'm not an instrument. I'm... a person."
"That's better."
And her face... glowed, as if I'd said not just words, but parted the sky.
If my words could make everyone shine like that...
I'd say them endlessly.