AUTHOR'S NOTE : This is the updated 2022 version of Chapter 06. If you are re-reading this part, you may observe some changes from the previous version.
CONTENT AND TRIGGER WARNING : This chapter contains references to trauma that may be upsetting for some readers. Please be mindful of this sensitive theme and other possible triggers. Remember to practice self-care before, during and after reading.
LORELEI
AS THE newly appointed chronicler of the QED Club, I immediately began my work. Just this afternoon, I wrote and posted our first official case. I created a new blog dedicated to our club's exploits so it would be separate from my personal blog. I didn't want anyone reading my online journal where I recorded my experiences and struggles.
Just an hour after I published it online, the post already had views, likes, and comments. I have no idea where the readers suddenly came from—I hadn't even promoted it on social media yet. They liked my writing style and were amazed at how we identified the murderer.
I did exactly what Loki told me to do: create a buzz about our club and let people know we existed. Only a few people have read it so far, but I truly appreciated their support. I didn't expect to feel this way. It made me want to follow up on my previous post right away.
The more I blogged about our cases, the more readers, and probably clients, we would get.
I wanted to share the news with Loki, so I stepped out of my room carrying my laptop.
"Hey, do you want to read the comments—" My mouth froze halfway when I noticed his strange posture.
A little past four o'clock earlier, I had found him in that same spot, arms crossed, legs crossed, and staring seriously at the dartboard where a sticky note with the letter "M" was pinned. He had already replaced the photo of the poor man whose face had been riddled with holes.
It must have been two hours since I first saw him like that. Even now, he still hasn't moved. Had he locked eyes with Medusa and turned to stone, or had Genesis' final word really left that strong of an impact on him?
I wanted to ask him who or what "Mori" or "Moriya" was. I just couldn't find the right moment, because ever since we solved the case, he seemed to have drifted away from himself. It was so weird seeing him in that condition. He looked spaced out.
"Oh my, what happened to your roommate?" Tita Martha asked when she stopped by our unit. Every day at six in the evening, she would come over to bring us the dish she had cooked. She always made extra for us. She set the bowl down on the small table before sitting beside me.
"He's been like that for a while now," I replied, still staring at my unresponsive roommate.
She placed her hands on her hips and then looked at me. "Did you reject Loki or something? He hasn't looked that out of it since the last time I saw him like that."
I couldn't tell whether Tita Martha was serious or joking. I ignored her question and shot her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
She looked up, as if trying to remember. "When was that again? Maybe more than half a year ago. He came home looking like the sky and earth had collapsed on him. I couldn't even talk to him properly. He mentioned a name back then. What was it again? Oh well! It was a woman's name, but I've already forgotten. He looked even worse than someone heartbroken!"
So he'd already had an episode like this before. I grew curious about what could have made him come home like that. It seemed so out of character for someone like him.
"By the way." Aunt Martha tapped my shoulder and gave me a wide smile. "I have good news for you. Your father might be coming here next week."
It took a moment before what she said registered in my mind. I glanced around the living room, looking for the wall calendar to check today's date. "Wait, Christmas is still far off. Why would he suddenly decide to come here?"
"He called me earlier," she said. "He has a meeting in Angeles City, so he might drop by here to check on you." She seemed to be the only one happy about the news. I didn't know how that qualified as good news. That was anything but good for me. "Aren't you excited to see your dad? I'm sure you've missed him."
I showed her a forced smile to express how I felt about the announcement. "You can tell from my face how excited I am to see him, right? I can barely contain my excitement."
"Your father rarely gets to come here, so make the most of it, okay? I'm sure he wants to see you again too."
I doubted he really wanted to see me. He was probably stopping by because he needed something. I couldn't blame Tita Martha for seeing him that way. She wasn't fully aware of how he treated me. If she only knew, she might even scold him when they met. I could tell her, but I didn't want to create any drama.
Tita Martha said goodbye before leaving the unit. Not once did Loki turn his head, move, or say a word. He must have been completely absorbed in whatever was running through his mind. Or maybe he'd already had a heart attack, that would explain why he wasn't moving at all.
I walked over to him and waved a hand in front of his face. No reaction, but at least he was still breathing. I grabbed one of his shoulders, which made him suddenly spring to his feet. He took a very deep breath, as if he had almost drowned.
"Where am I? What time is it?"
"You're still in the apartment. It's six-thirty in the evening. You've been sitting there on the couch for two hours."
"My goodness! I fell asleep while I was thinking!" He paced around and stretched his arms. "I wasted some precious time by making myself idle!"
I frowned. He was sleeping the whole time? "You can sleep with your eyes open?"
"I practiced that skill so I can sleep in class without the teacher noticing," he said, looking oddly proud of his talent. "I skip classes by sleeping with my eyes open, especially if the subject is boring. Well, most of them are."
"I thought you were thinking about that 'M.'"
"I was, until Hypnos cradled me in his arms." He picked up the laptop from the center table and opened it quickly. "By the way, Inspector Estrada gave me an update earlier about the chemistry lab incident. My hunch was correct."
"What hunch?"
"Genesis was selling the stolen chemicals to an anonymous buyer. The campus police retrieved deleted messages from his phone. He communicated with different unregistered numbers for the transactions."
He turned the laptop toward me. On the screen were Genesis' call and text logs, showing where the messages came from, when they were sent, and their content.
"Why was he foaming at the mouth and convulsing earlier?" I lifted my gaze to his face. "Did he kill himself so the police wouldn't find out who his mysterious deal partner was?"
"He was killed, not a suicide," Loki corrected. He sat back down on the couch and focused on the laptop again. "According to the autopsy, he was pricked in the nape with a needle laced with poison. Either someone shot that poisoned needle from a short distance, or someone got close to Genesis and pricked him."
"So he was murdered to silence him?" That was the conclusion I came to.
"Exactly. Considering these developments, we can therefore conclude that Genesis was merely a pawn in this grand game. Someone else is pulling the strings. The game isn't over, and the case isn't closed yet."
My gaze shifted from Loki to the sticky note pinned to the dartboard. Whoever that "M" was, I had a strong feeling they were connected to Genesis' poisoning. Why else would the victim mutter that name with his dying breath?
AT FIRST, I honestly wasn't enthusiastic about becoming a member of the QED Club. I never really intended to join in the first place. I was somewhat forced into it, remember? But after helping solve the case yesterday, something inside me began to yearn for more. It felt like I was craving it.
As I said before, I wasn't a detective—nor did I have any intention of becoming one—but the pleasure of putting the pieces of a puzzle together was undeniably thrilling. Maybe that was the reason Loki was so obsessed with puzzles and mysteries. It gave him so much satisfaction that it had practically become an addiction.
But more than that, I was even more interested in helping people who needed it. I was living proof of that. The case I was involved in didn't exactly have a happy ending, but I couldn't deny that my worries lessened when Aaron was exposed and expelled. The victim, Isaac, would never be able to thank us, but at least, in some way, we were able to give justice to his death.
Maybe that was the pull, the reason I didn't dread each day as a club member.
After our morning period, I left the classroom and headed straight to the clubroom. Aside from solving the cases referred to us, I also wanted to write a new blog entry. Writing was the perfect distraction I was looking for. It seemed that being the club's chronicler would personally help me as well. Maybe today we would unravel a mystery worth sharing with my small readership.
Loki himself was a huge mystery. There were still so many things I didn't know about him. No, don't get me wrong, I wasn't that interested in him. But he did make me a little curious. After observing his reaction yesterday, I wanted to know what had happened in his past… even before I set foot in Aunt Martha's apartment.
"Lorelei?"
I was walking along the third-floor hallway, my eyes fixed straight ahead, when someone behind me called my name. I immediately stopped and turned around. A girl with shoulder-length hair hurried toward me. Her forehead was covered with full bangs, and she wore glasses with thick black frames. Pinned to the lapel of her blazer was a metal badge shaped like a shield, similar to the Clark High logo.
"Yes?" I greeted her with a smile.
"Sorry to interrupt you on your way to the clubroom." The female student extended her right hand to me. "My name's Margarette Fernandez, a HUMSS 12 student. Pleased to meet you!"
I hesitated for a moment before shaking her hand. It wasn't often that I met a student who greeted me with a handshake, she might be the first. I felt a bit weirded out, not because of her, but because she knew my name and where I was headed.
"Sorry, but do I know you?" I asked after we let go of each other's hands. I narrowed my eyes slightly at her. "How did you know I was going to the clubroom?"
"You're from the QED Club, right? Big fan here!" she replied. "I've also read your blog! The chemistry lab case was brilliantly solved and written."
I felt my cheeks turning red. Could she be one of those who read or commented on my post last night? Maybe she was a potential client who wanted to ask for our help. I decided to be more accommodating.
"Thanks for reading my blog! I really appreciate it," I replied with a smile. My cheeks were probably still blushing. "Is there anything I, or we, can help you with? We can talk about it in our clubroom."
She smirked. "I think I'm the one who can help you. You don't look like the type of person who's interested in solving mysteries. Be honest with me. Were you forced to join that club?"
"Sorry, but why is that any of your business?" You could say Loki guilt-tripped me into joining, but why was this girl asking like that?
"I told you, I want to help you," she said slowly and calmly. "Listen to me, Lorelei. Staying in that club won't do you any good. Staying with that Loki will only bring you tragedy."
She said Loki's name with clear contempt. I could feel the anger behind it.
"I'm sorry again, but who exactly are you? And how do you know Loki?"
"You could say I was the closest thing to a friend he's ever been capable of having."
I had a feeling I understood what she was trying to do. I was almost impressed by how subtle she had attempted to be.
"If you think I joined the club because Loki and I are in a relationship, you're mistaken," I explained, hoping to enlighten her and erase whatever wrong impression she had of me. "I'm just an ordinary club member. Don't consider me a threat to whatever romantic inclination you might have toward him. Now, would you mind excusing me?"
I didn't wait for her response. I continued walking without looking back. I had no intention of wasting my time, or my breath, on someone like her, an admirer of that guy. Confronting me was a complete waste of her effort.
"Do you know what happened to his former club member?" she called out. "Someone who was once in the same position as you?"
I tried to focus on walking toward the clubroom, but my curiosity got the better of me. I stopped and turned around, giving her a questioning look. Inspector Estrada had mentioned Loki's former assistant yesterday. Margarette must be referring to her.
"Oh, I see. I can tell from your face that he hasn't told you about her." She wrapped her arms around herself. "You're risking your life for him, and yet he didn't mention anything about her when you joined, huh?"
"I'm not risking my life for him, or for anyone," I corrected, rolling my eyes.
Then I turned on my heel and continued striding toward the clubroom, leaving her standing there.
She was the second person in this school who had managed to get on my nerves. And what did she mean by saying I was putting my life in danger for Loki? First of all, I had no reason to do that.
When I entered the clubroom, I found Loki busy examining the photos from yesterday's case. He was studying a close-up shot of a neck with a tiny red dot in the center.
"Hey," I greeted half-heartedly before sitting on a monobloc chair near him. Maybe I should tell him about the girl I met earlier. "I met someone who said she was the closest thing to a friend you're capable of having."
"She?" His gaze shifted to me; his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed. "So you're not referring to my brother, are you?"
"You have a brother here?" I asked in surprise. All this time, I had assumed he was the only one from his family studying here. And if he did have a brother, why weren't they living in the same apartment? That would've been the most convenient arrangement instead of staying separately. "Let me guess. His name's Thor, right? Like in the Marvel movie?"
"Yes."
I waited for him to take back his answer or say it was a joke. But he didn't say anything more and simply continued examining the photo.
Maybe his parents were huge fans of Norse mythology or Marvel movies, that would explain why they named their children after Norse gods.
A thought suddenly crossed my mind: If Loki was like this, was his brother the same? Were personality traits passed down through genes or DNA? Imagine if both brothers shared the same beliefs and attitude. One would have to deal with two Lokis at the same time.
I was about to ask him more about his brother when the clubroom door opened. Both of us turned toward it.
A girl with long, curled hair walked in. Her skin looked porcelain-smooth, like a model strutting down a fashion runway. Her blouse fit her a little too well, and her skirt was cut two to three inches above the knee, clearly against the student manual.
"Is this the QED Club?" she asked, letting her eyes roam around the room.
"If you know how to read—"
"Yes, it is! How can we help you?" I quickly cut in before my companion could finish insulting what might be our first client of the day. If he didn't learn how to keep his mouth shut, it wouldn't be surprising if people got turned off the moment they stepped in here.
The girl sat on a monobloc chair at the other end of the table, placing her hands neatly on her lap. "My name's Madonna Barcelon, an ABM 11 student. A friend of mine said you're good at solving problems, so I decided to approach you. She read the blog about what you did yesterday."
I couldn't help but smile, even bowing my head a little to hide it. Here was proof that my blog could actually help promote the club and attract clients.
"What seems to be your problem?" I asked.
She adjusted her hair first. "Have you heard of CHS Confessions? No? It's a Facebook page where you can confess a secret, talk about your crush, or anything under the sun. Yesterday, someone submitted a blind item that I feel was directed at me."
Loki yawned—loudly, on purpose—then looked away. He clearly wasn't interested in this kind of case. Still, I had to entertain our client even if my partner didn't feel like it.
Madonna showed us a screenshot of the post she was referring to.
"Who's that Grade 11 student who thinks she's a model and goes on different dates almost every day? They say she entertains multiple suitors at the same time! And here's more gossip! Apparently, she's planning to use her sickening charm to run in the next student council elections. Care to guess? Drop your comment!"
I handed the phone to Loki even though he clearly didn't want to look at it at first. He read it for a few seconds, then returned it to me.
"We can confidently assume that you're the one being referred to in that post," Loki commented in a matter-of-fact tone. "It's hardly surprising."
Madonna narrowed her eyes at him. "Excuse me?"
"Judging by your choice of—"
I shot him a sharp look before he could finish what he was about to say. There were only two types of comments that usually came out of his mouth: insensitive or offensive. Either way, our client didn't need to hear it.
I knew he could read a person's history through his powers of observation and deduction. But it could easily turn people off. If he wanted the club to gain popularity and build a good reputation, he needed to learn how to hold his tongue. He had to be more sensitive.
"So, you want to find out who posted that confession about you?" I asked, steering the discussion back to the topic.
"I already have a suspicion about who might've leaked that information," Madonna replied. "I told three of my girl friends about it. Even though I said they shouldn't tell anyone, I think one of them is responsible for this. Who else could it be?"
"First question." Loki raised his index finger. "Are these friends of yours in the same circle?"
Madonna shook her head. "No. One is my classmate, the second is from the theater group, and the third is a member of the music club that I'm part of. I don't think they've met each other."
"Second question." Loki raised his middle finger next. "What do you think is the motive behind the blind item?"
Madonna looked up, as if trying to recall why any of her friends would do such a thing. "She could be jealous of my beauty, so she decided to spread my secret. Or maybe she wants to ruin my image because I'm planning to run for student council next year."
Was she really serious about running for council? I didn't want to be judgmental, but there wasn't a single trace of student leadership in Madonna. She couldn't even follow the dress code stated in the student manual. But if she was popular and could attract people with her charm and looks, her victory would practically be guaranteed. All she had to do was smile pretty and act cute in front of the voters.
"Now that you've heard my problem…" She crossed her legs and looked at both of us. "What can you advise me?"
"Why don't you confront your friends one by one and ask who's behind it?" I answered first after a brief silence. "If she's really your friend, she'll be honest with you. You can settle whatever differences you might have and save your friendship."
Loki let out a bored sigh and began fidgeting with his fingers. "That's so boring. Why don't you try a much more entertaining way of exposing your friend?"
I glanced at him. What did he mean by entertaining? Did he really want to complicate a problem that only needed a simple solution?
"There's no guarantee that your friend will come clean just because you talk to her. She'll deny it to death. So why not set a trap, lure her in, and catch her?" he added.
It was strange. Earlier, he seemed completely uninterested in this problem. Now he sounded somewhat engaged. What changed?
"So how do I do that?" Madonna asked.
"Tell each of your friends a different secret. Make sure you don't give them the same information. Pretend you're asking for advice. Tell each one that you've already told the others, or that you're about to, so they'll think the information isn't exclusive."
"And how will that help?"
"Here's how it will go," Loki explained. "Tell Friend #1 that you like red. Tell Friend #2 that you like blue. Tell Friend #3 that you like green. If there's a post on CHS Confessions tonight or tomorrow saying that you like green, then you'll instantly know who leaked the information."
"Do you think that will work?"
"Trust me. It's the only way to expose the rat among your peers."
I could see the doubt etched on Madonna's pretty face. Still, she didn't have much of a choice but to try Loki's suggested trick. I wasn't entirely convinced it would work one hundred percent either. When she had no more questions for us, she stood up and excused herself.
I felt a bit disappointed with the problem she brought to us. I had expected something more mind-boggling, something that would really make us think. There wasn't even any action in this case. It felt like the question-and-answer portion of a beauty pageant. I wasn't even sure if my blog subscribers would want to read about this kind of case.
"Don't be sad. That happens quite often," Loki said. He must have noticed the disappointment painted on my face. "Not all problems are gems. We don't encounter crimes every day, unlike in detective stories. Get used to it."
By the way…
"Earlier, you looked like you wanted to send Madonna away. Why did you suddenly become interested in helping her?"
"The moment she mentioned student council, my interest was piqued," he replied while spinning around in his swivel chair. "Her popularity is a threat to anyone who wants a seat in the council. So what do you do to defeat her? You sling mud at her until she becomes dirty and undesirable in the eyes of the voters."
"But it's only June. Isn't it a bit too early for a demolition job?" I countered.
"Kill the fire before it spreads. Pluck out the weed before it grows." He stopped in front of me and pointed a finger at my face. "If I intended to run for student council next year and found out that you were planning to run as well, I'd clip your wings as early as now. If this is truly about the elections, then the person behind it is a forward thinker. They used one of her friends to dig up dirt on her. Friendship is indeed a double-edged sword."
Since he brought it up, I figured now was the right time to mention something I had been wondering about for days.
"Have you ever considered making friends?" I asked.
"Why should I?" Loki spun his chair again, clearly trying to dodge the conversation. "I told you before, friends are just excess baggage in my life. Once you befriend someone, you make yourself vulnerable. Your enemies will have something to use against you. Look at what happened to our client. So why take that risk?"
"But Inspector Estrada said yesterday that you used to be more approachable," I pressed. "And he also mentioned that you had a former assistant. I assume she was a member of this club too."
His chair stopped spinning. He was now facing the window, his back turned to me.
"That's until I realized how dangerous it is," he said quietly. "Friendship has its cost. If you're willing to pay for it, then go ahead, make some friends. But if not, you'd better lock yourself away from the rest of civilization."
I understood his point, but living like that felt… bleak.
He spun back to face me and suddenly stood up. "Before this topic goes any further, let's end it now. I also need to buy my favorite brand of canned coffee."
I still had questions, especially about his former assistant. I tried to bring it up, but he was clearly avoiding it. I couldn't force him, and I didn't want to push if he didn't want to talk about it.
I couldn't help but wonder what really happened to her.
The next day, Madonna visited us again at the same time she had consulted us before. I was working on our assignment in Oral Communication when she entered the clubroom. I quickly set my notes aside to listen to her.
"At first, I didn't believe it would go exactly the way you said!" Madonna exclaimed before pulling a monobloc chair and sitting down. Compared to her fresh look yesterday, she looked stressed today. "I know now who the traitor among my friends is."
"Congratulations," Loki commented flatly while reading a book. He didn't even look at our client when she came in. "Expect more disappointment in the future when it comes to friendship."
"I confronted that bitch this morning," our client almost hissed in anger. "She said she was forced to do it because someone was blackmailing her."
"Blackmail?" I repeated.
"She said if she didn't share information that could ruin me, her own image would be destroyed across the entire campus. After all the trust I gave her, she'd betray me? How dare she!"
If you weighed it carefully, her friend had been trapped in a complicated situation. Was she willing to sacrifice herself to protect her friend, or was she willing to break the trust given to her to save herself? Well, that ex-friend chose the latter, the more convenient option.
"Be careful with who you trust,," Loki advised, sounding like some kind of friendship guru. "Make sure you aren't keeping a snake that will bite you in your own backyard."
Madonna kept shaking her head and huffing in frustration. She stood up and stormed out of the clubroom without even saying goodbye or thanking us.
After I finished my assignment, I left the clubroom and went to the washroom. I washed my hands and looked into the mirror to check if I still looked presentable. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I noticed the girl I had met in the hallway yesterday standing behind me, as if she had been watching me the whole time.
"You seem to be enjoying his company," Margarette greeted, that irritating smirk still on her lips. "Are you being drawn to him, or to the mysteries surrounding him?"
We locked eyes through the mirror; I didn't need to turn around to face her. "Are you following me? Are you here to bother me again? If you have a problem with Loki, why don't you tell him yourself?"
"I'm here to help you, not him."
"But you're not helping me. Your presence is becoming a nuisance, especially now that it looks like you're stalking me. Why are you so obsessed with him?"
She stepped closer to the mirror and stood beside me, giving me a menacing sidelong glance. "You're leaving me no choice but to tell you a thing or two about Loki, pieces of information that only a few people know."
I raised an eyebrow. "And why would you do that?"
"So you can decide whether to stay with him and his club, or save yourself from further risk."
I was torn between listening to what she had to say and simply plugging my ears and walking away. I couldn't understand why she was so determined to separate me from Loki. If she was romantically interested in him, she was taking it way too far. In the first place, there was nothing going on between me and Loki except that we were clubmates and roommates.
But in the end, I accepted her offer.
It was also an opportunity for me to learn more about the guy I spent every single day with. Loki didn't want to share certain things about his past. I wasn't desperate to know, but understanding him better might help, especially since it looked like we'd be living in the same apartment and working in the same club for quite some time. Now someone was willing to give me a glimpse.
When the grain walks toward the chicken, would the chicken refuse it?
"Go ahead. Tell me what I need to know."
"Do you know the song he holds dear to his heart?"
"No." What did Loki's favorite song have to do with anything?
"Do you know who Rhea is?"
If I remembered correctly, Rhea was the recipient of the email Loki had been typing yesterday. So Margarette knew her too. Wait, could she be the former assistant Loki once had in the club?
"I don't know who she is," I admitted, "but I accidentally read an email Loki was composing for her."
"Oh?" Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth fell open. "That's still going on? Until now? Seriously?"
I would've appreciated it more if she just went straight to the point instead of beating around the bush. "What do your questions have to do with me?"
"They're hints about what happened more than half a year ago," she replied. "Do you really want to know?"
I nodded, my eyes narrowing as I braced myself to listen.
SINCE THE day I met him in Aunt Martha's apartment, Loki had already been mysterious and twisted in his own way. That was a fact. But after hearing what Margarette told me, his image became a little clearer.
Well, not entirely.
That suspicious girl didn't share everything I needed to know. She wanted me to fill in the blanks myself. She preferred that the connection between his so-called favorite song and who Rhea really was would come straight from Loki's own mouth.
At exactly six in the evening, I stepped out of my room after finishing my assignment. I found Loki typing on his laptop, his fingers pressing rapidly against the keys. Was he composing another email for Rhea?
I walked toward the doorway. Thankfully, the sky wasn't too cloudy tonight. From there, I could clearly see the tiny stars shimmering endlessly against the dark canvas above.
I glanced back at Loki, recalling what Margarette had told me.
"If you really want to know the truth, sing that song and make sure he hears it."
I kept my eyes on the bright stars scattered across the night sky. I didn't know why I was following that girl's instructions. But a voice inside me insisted, urged me to confirm whether everything she had said was true.
I took a deep breath. Three. Two. One.
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are~" I sang softly, just loud enough for Loki to hear from where he was seated. "Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky~"
The sound of his typing abruptly stopped behind me.
I didn't turn around right away. Was he mesmerized by the song… or was it something else?
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are~"
"Stop."
"When the blazing sun is gone, when he nothing shines upo—"
"I SAID STOP!"
Loki roared like a lion.
That was when I finally turned to look at him.
His usually stoic face had darkened with rage. His stoic face went dark with rage. His dull eyes ignited with fire and threw daggers at me. In such a rare moment, he finally lost his cool.
I swallowed hard as I met his glare. For a minute or two, neither of us spoke. I was afraid of the expression painted in his face. The man standing before me didn't feel like the Loki I knew.
"I don't know if it's a mere coincidence that you sang that song in my presence, or if someone told you how much I hate it," he said, averting his gaze from me.
He had calmed down a little, and I was finally able to breathe more easily.
I couldn't understand why he reacted so intensely to a simple nursery rhyme. "Does it remind you of some tragic childhood memory? Do you have a grudge against Mozart for composing its tune?"
"Do you wanna know the truth? Fine." His voice was shaky, so he was trying to control his tone. "Whenever I hear that song, it triggers not my childhood memory, but a tragic one that I'm struggling to seal away. That song was being played the moment I found the lifeless body of someone close to me. Someone whom I can consider my friend. My only friend."
I could feel the sorrow in his voice and see it in his tear-filled eyes. The cold mask he had been wearing every day fell away. Before me stood a more human Loki.
He pointed at the dartboard, where the sticky note with the letter "M" was still pinned, never taking his eyes off me.
"And that man—whether it was Mori, Moriya, or whatever—was behind it. Now that you've learned a bit of my past, are you satisfied? Or do you want to know more? Do you want me to describe what my friend looked like when I found her dead? Do you want me to tell you how many times her fragile body was stabbed?"
I was left speechless by his agitated tone. I have trauma too, so I know that everyone has their own triggers. If I had known that singing that song would make him snap, I wouldn't have sung it at all. Tonight, I saw a side of him that he probably rarely showed anyone.
"I'll be in my room." He grabbed his laptop and quickly headed straight to his room. "If you want to know more, just knock twice. I'll answer whatever questions you may have. Fair enough?"
But I didn't wait for him to enter his room. I immediately threw out another question that had been on my mind. He was just about to open the door when he suddenly stopped and turned to face me.
"If that friend of yours is dead, why do you still send her emails?" I asked. "You call her Rhea, don't you? Short for Rhiannon?"
We exchanged stares for a minute.