A few hours later, Luna and Mystic made their way to the house where Mystic had been staying. The moment they stepped through the door, her eyes drifted across the familiar walls, the worn furniture, and the empty spaces where pieces of his childhood once remained.
For a fleeting moment, the house seemed almost alive again, filled with the faint traces of a life that had disappeared long ago. Then the memories slipped away, leaving only the cold silence behind.
Mystic moved toward the kitchen counter and gripped its edge, his knuckles tightening as his breathing grew uneven.
Luna stayed close beside him, watching his shoulders rise and fall with each strained breath. His fingers trembled against the countertop, his grip tightening whenever the image of Hina's death flashed through his mind.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but the memory only seemed to grow sharper, forcing his body rigid. Luna remained beside him, her presence steady as she waited for the tension in his trembling hands and shoulders to slowly ease.
"Take it easy, Mysti. Don't allow this to get to you." She urged him to relax, yet her words did nothing to soothe him.
"What reason do I have to take it easy? Why on earth would I take it easy when the killer is still roaming free, while an innocent girl lost her life for nothing and was just humiliated by being crucified on the cross like Jesus."
Luna's expression tightened. Her brows drew together, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at Mystic, her lips pressing into a thin line.
Regaining her calm, she murmured, "yes, I'm aware of that but the thing is, we need a proper strategy; we can't simply take out the villain right there in plain sight."
Suddenly, Mystic crossed the room and stopped in front of the battered computer, its worn keys clicking beneath his fingers as lines of text filled the dim screen.
Luna leaned over his shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she tried to catch a glimpse, but a flickering ceiling light cast uneven shadows across the room, repeatedly swallowing the screen from view.
She shifted from one side to the other, trying to find a better angle, only for the light to sputter again and leave the monitor hidden behind darkness.
A final series of keystrokes echoed through the room before Mystic's hands fell still. He closed the computer, lifted it from the desk, and carried it aside before dropping onto the worn couch.
The cushions sank beneath his weight, and he settled in as though nothing unusual had happened. Luna quietly followed, sliding her body onto the couch beside him just before pressing herself against his side, her head resting close to his shoulder.
"What were you typing on the computer that you were trying to hide from me," she murmured, edging closer to Mystic and clutching him more tightly.
"I wasn't trying to hide it from you, the lights were off, and you know that." He said this to her, casting her an exhausted look.
Her lips pressed into a small pout as she shifted closer, burying her face against the warmth of his neck and clinging to him as though afraid to let go.
Neither of them moved for a while, the weight of what had happened settling heavily between them, their silence carrying the grief neither could put into words.
"Sure, but I was asking what you were up to." Her pout deepened, though she let the matter drop.
Across town, in their luxurious apartment, Visual and Mark sat motionless on opposite ends of the oversized couch. The television cast a pale glow across the room, but neither paid it any attention.
Mark's hands rested loosely between his knees, his usual energy nowhere to be seen, while Visual stared blankly at the floor, his fingers occasionally tightening against the fabric of the couch.
Hina's death hung over the room like a weight neither of them could shake. Their eyes drifted toward Mystic's empty seat which he uses when he comes over, yet neither moved to fill the silence with words.
They knew Mystic needed to deal with what had happened himself, and interfering with his work would only slow him down.
The front door clicked open, followed by the soft shuffle of footsteps across the polished floor. Visual's sister, Lily Park stepped inside, brushing the outside air from her clothes before stopping near the entrance.
Her gaze moved from the darkened television to the two figures sunk into the couch, then toward the untouched cups on the table and the curtains drawn tightly across the windows.
The unfamiliar stillness made her hesitate, her brows knitting together as she slowly looked around the apartment. She remained by the doorway for a moment, taking in the heavy silence and the faces that offered no explanation for the sudden gloom surrounding the room.
"I'm not caught up on what's going on; would someone mind telling me why every one of you got back home five hours before you were supposed to?" She made this request as she stepped nearer to the pair sitting on the couch.
None of them answered. Their eyes remained fixed on the ground, shoulders trembling as tears slipped silently down their faces.
Questions passed between them, but no one lifted their head or found the strength to respond, their mouths pressed tightly shut as grief weighed heavily over the room.
"Pardon me, but I require an explanation."
"One of our classmates has passed away. Death by crucifixion. READ THE FUCKING ROOM." Mark said, his voice rising above its usual level, yet Visual did not react the way she typically does whenever someone yells at his sister.
Visual pushed himself out of the room, his footsteps carrying him toward the balcony without a glance back. Mark and Lily remained where they were, their eyes following him in stunned silence.
For the first time, the space he had occupied was empty while someone was still speaking, leaving an unfamiliar weight hanging in the air.
Neither of them moved to stop him, the memory of Hina's death settling heavily between them as the reason slowly became impossible to ignore.
Outside, cars rolled along the road beneath the balcony, tires humming against the pavement as pedestrians passed one another without a second thought. A breeze stirred Visual's clothes, distant traffic blending with the ordinary sounds of the world continuing around him.
His eyes tracked the movement below, but the familiar sights offered no relief.
His fingers tightened against the balcony railing, his breathing remaining uneven as the noise of everyday life washed over him without reaching whatever had gone numb inside.
"These days, hardly anything manages to surprise or unsettle me at all anymore. But the sight before me made me want to put a bullet straight through my own skull." Mystic mumbled those words under his breath as he turned and went back inside.
At the police station, the blue-haired officer Harold stood over Hina's corpse beneath the harsh white lights, his eyes moving slowly across every wound. He studied the torn fabric, the bruising, and the deep cuts scattered across her body, following each mark as though it were a piece of a puzzle.
Nothing about the injuries looked random. The force behind them had been deliberate, personal, almost obsessive.
Harold's gaze lingered on the worst of the wounds. His fingers tightened around the clipboard in his hand as a familiar pattern began to take shape in his mind.
The way the attacker had focused on Hina rather than simply killing her reminded him of cases driven by possession and jealousy, someone who had seen another person as something that belonged exclusively to them.
His eyes narrowed as the pieces connected, and the image of a possessive killer formed in his thoughts.
He lowered the clipboard and turned away from the examination room. His footsteps echoed through the corridor as he walked toward the main office, passing officers busy with paperwork and ringing phones.
The door came into view at the end of the hall, and Harold pushed it open, his expression still fixed and his thoughts already racing through what he had just seen.
"Alright, men. Every single one of us is already aware of what the problem is, so there is no reason to waste time going over it again with more explanations. What we have to do is track down the yandere who took her life, and we'll put an end to the bastard ourselves."