#anyway fuck this investigation day all my homies hate this investigation day

[thefandomcassandra]

hallowed be thy unknown Ch7: Tokusatsu Haunting 3: Chamomile and Bouvardia

Maya poked at her ramen, sighing heavily. She just couldn't wrap her head around what had just happened and it was frustrating so she was taking it out on her food. Spring onions boats capsized beneath her chopsticks, whorling eddies devouring wakame and bean sprouts, the heat wafting the smell up in her face. If she had glasses, they'd be foggy to reflect her heart.

"C'mon, Mayoi-chan!" Mr. Eldoon brandished his ladle at her head, clucking his tongue in disappointment. "They're gon' get soggy if you let 'em sit."

"Sorry Eldoon-jii." Not willing to upset one of her favorite cooks in the area, she quickly shoveled the noodles in her mouth. It was, as always, a delicious bowl—if not a little salty, but Maya always liked it that way. "I just have a lot on my plate today and got a little lost, yknow?"

"If ya' keep making faces like that, your gon' wrinkle like my Guy." Mr. Eldoon snorted, thankfully unbothered by her doldrums. "Kid's only half my age but he's got the lines of my pa!" His boisterous, coughing laugh drew out a snort from Maya as well. "You're too pretty to frown like that."

"Being a lawyer is a hard job," she complained. Behind her, Nick let out an indignant squawk, but he also knew she was complaining just to complain. "I think I might go gray early. Do you think I'd look good silver Eldoon-jii?"

"Mayoi-chan, you'd look good white as a sheet. Girls like ya', pretty girls like my wife when she was 'round your age, they can make a rubbish bag look like hot court, right?" She couldn't stop the laugh from bubbling out like a stock pot boiling over. "But if it's stressing ya', then take a break right?"

"In the middle of a case?" The broth went down smooth. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"Ya' always got a choice." Nick let out a wordless hum in agreement with Mr. Eldoon.

"True." Maya finished the vegetables at the bottom of her bowl and pulled a bill out of her wallet to pay him, but Mr. Eldoon gently placed his hand on hers. The cracked and worn feeling of his palm and the warmth of his touch caused something thick and achingly familiar to block her throat. She looked over to him, fighting a heavy wave of emotion. "But—"

"We take care of ours," he said. "And ya' know Chihiro-chan'd have my ass if I made ya' pay when you're having a rough go of it."

Words wouldn't come out so she put the bill away and tucked her wallet back in her jacket pocket. Then, in lieu of answering him verbally, she nodded.

"Good kid. Now git! Be safe, ya' hear?!" And that was that.

Stomach, brain, and heart full, Maya tried to run through the evidence again as she made her way back to the detention center. The photo, the steaks, the spear, the costume, the people...what did it all mean?

"Maya?" Nick skipped a bit to get in front of her as she walked, brows furrowed in something like confusion or concern.

"Hm?"

"Do you need to take a break?"

(If she stopped working, if she let herself rest for just one moment, then she'd be caught. All the emotions she's running from, the ghost of her sister, the fear of making a huge mistake, all of it will wrap their skeletal fingers around her ankles and drag her to hell. She can't let that happen. She can't let all Mia and Nick's efforts go to waste. She has to keep going. She has to or else.)

"I'm fine." The way he frowned implied he didn't buy it. "Nick! I'm just pulled a little thin right now. New workload, right? I'm just not used to the stress of investigations and court one day after the other. I was worn out last time too!"

"Last time you were the one on the chopping block." He had pulled his mask over his mouth. Why did he do that? His skin, translucent, was pale and sweaty but he maintained strong eye-contact. His blank gaze seemed to cut right through her lies and bluffs. "You're allowed to rest."

"After this trial." She promised.

"I'm holding you to it, Maya. You're not getting away with working yourself to death because—"

"Nick, c'mon!" She tried to pitch her tone so she sounded petulant and irritable. It probably worked because Nick rolled his blank eyes and continued walking backwards as they talked. "I said I will, so I will. Now let's talk game, shall we?"

Accepting the diversion with the grace of a tired parent, Nick sighed. "So...Oldbag."

"She's not gonna be happy and I am genuinely sorry about that but..."

"I doubt she's going to just forgive you without some serious ass-kissing." Nick nodded in agreement.

"Gionbō isn't a super difficult thing to make if I can find a place that sells anko but I don't know if I'll have the time to do it between trial and investigation." Maya pulled a pad of paper out of her pocket and scribbled down a quick grocery list. "But I'll buy the ingredients and give it a whirl, assuming I can find the recipe card Mia squirreled away."

"It's probably in the kitchen. I think she left her recipe cards in a small file box on top of the fridge?"

"Then that'll be the best I got. Besides? What're the odds they let her go today?"

Nick did some quick math on his fingers and shrugged. "I wouldn't discount anything. Especially since she technically didn't ever once commit perjury. As it is, being annoying isn't a crime enough to be detained for twelve hours and we did take a lunch break."

"A well-deserved one!" Maya argued.

Nick didn't even bother. "So what are you thinking?"

"Between Sal and the producer, one of them has to know something. I figure I can ask Penny when we hit up Global Studios again. Maybe find that kid?" Speaking of. Maya checked her texts with Penny.

glad to hear wp's doing ok! hope you're ok too

doing p good but stopped 4 food

oh? pics?

Maya sent the image she took of her ramen with the caption:

eldoons noodles has the best noodles round! u wish u were me :P

After a moment's thought she added:

gonna see wp b4 heading 2 global. might need 2 chat w u if thats ok?

"You think the kid will be at Global?" Nick seemed genuinely surprised. Why wouldn't he be?

"Well, he's a single-digit aged kid who knows a way in and out of the place they film the Steel Samurai at, right? Why wouldn't he visit whenever he could? Especially after the whole everything that happened?" Maya waved her hand about in a general indication of Things Going On. "That's prime bragging material, isn't it? It would be on forums, so of course a kid would swing back by!" She hoped.

Her phone buzzed.

that looks so yummy i'm jealous!

anyway yeah i'll be here. they got me on security while ob is out. tiring.

thx

"Probably." Nick shrugged. "I don't remember what being seven is like so I couldn't tell you."

"Neither do I, but fans will be fans." Maya shrugged back. "But yeah, uh, plans..."

"Plans," he echoed.

"Will Powers in the center, Penny at Global Studios, a second sweep of the crime scene, apologize to Oldbag if I see her, try and find Sal and the producer, see where that leads?" She counted on her fingers as she listed what her goals were.

"That's a lot of wandering."

"That's why I have legs!" Maya frowned. Something just occurred to her. "Do you think, if the kid did witness the murder, they'd force him on the stand?"

Nick let out a long, strangled noise. He was trying to find the best way to answer her which...fair enough. When he did respond, he spoke slowly and carefully. "They won't be able to do anything without guardian permission, so even if he did see something, he can't be held for or brought in for questioning without going through whoever is taking care of him. Past that? It depends. If his parents agree, then he can be put on stand or questioned. But that's a big if, mind."

Ah.

Her hands were balled up so tight she could feel her nails cutting into her palms. She didn't want to speak carelessly for worry she might lash out at Nick instead of just expressing her frustration aloud.

In the end, all Maya could say was, "I hope it doesn't come to that."

Nick tugged at his mask, floating instead of walking. "Me too." —— "Sorry I couldn't do more."

Will Powers sat forward in the visiting room chair. "No, no! Don't apologize! You did your best!"

Regardless. "I had to choose between extending the trial one more day or letting you be declared guilty, but I do feel bad about how I went at it."

"Even I know that you probably didn't want to blame Ms. Oldbag—"

"I'm just glad you're doing alright. Have you been icing your foot?" They'd been talking over each other for a while now and it was time Maya tried to get the conversation back on track. "I talked to the guards here and they should have at least gotten you a compress or something."

That, at least, seemed to cut the tension. Will Powers smiled at her through the glass. "Yes. They did."

"That's good."

"Nice defusing." Nick's praise would have felt good if he wasn't smirking at her about how long it took for her to stop apologizing in the first place.

"So, Powers-san, do you think I could ask you some more questions—mostly about today's proceedings?" Maya was choosing to ignore him. She was being the adult here.

He stuck his tongue out at her. Real mature.

"Go ahead." At least her client was being cooperative and not mean or petty.

Maya nodded and tried to find a good place to start. Well...the bombshell Oldbag dropped before the trial was postponed might work. "Why didn't you tell me about Sal and the other upper management that were at Global Studios that day?"

"That's as good a place to start as any." Nick, at least, approved of her decision.

Will Powers winced and broke his—until then, steady—eye-contact with her. "So, uh, sorry about that."

"You don't need to apologize to me. I just want to know why so that I can understand how best to handle this new information. It might change how I approach your defense." Which was just a kind way of saying it was a bit of an inconvenience to have two or more new suspects crop up.

"I think he does need to apologize more." Nick, it seemed, was less forgiving. From where he floated—half-in, half-out of the visiting room's glass window—he rolled over and gave Will Powers the stink-eye. "It's hard to defend someone who lies; whether by omission or actively. An apology goes a long way and the more the merrier."

Nope. No time to be petty. Listen to what Will Powers had to say and focus.

"Right." The man tilted his head and wrung a napkin idly in his meaty hands. "So Mr. Manella and Ms. Vasquez—" the latter was probably the producer then. "Ms. Vasquez offered everyone a week's pay to keep shut about the higher-ups from Global coming by. It's a nice bonus and, well, you can't blame us, can you?"

"Everyone?" She didn't need to know how much Will Powers was making to know a week's pay was a real enticing chunk of change.

"Everyone." He nodded. "Staff, crew, and actors. Even me."

"Why would they pay the person on trial to keep mum? Did they expect he'd get a favorable ruling that money could make go away? And that's even assuming he doesn't get the death penalty for murder, which is what he's on trial for. What use is a week's pay to a dead man?" Ironic for a dead man to be asking about that.

"Do you know who all was there?" Maya was opting to try and trim down what he said to the essentials. "Sal Manella, yes, and you said the producer's name is Vasquez?"

"Dee Vasquez." Full name. Nice. Maya scribbled it down in her notebook. "Her and Mr. Manella were meeting with I think two or three people from the upper management of Global Studios? It was about the longevity and budget of our department and shows, I think. Or, well, that's what the gossip was saying. I couldn't tell you any more with any kind of, uh, clarity."

"What's your thoughts on Sal Manella? Do you think he'd be the type of person to kill someone?"

Will Powers reeled as if he had been struck. "No! Well, uh, sorry..." He shrunk back down on himself. Maybe he assumed she was put off by his strong reaction. Did he not pay attention to the trial earlier that day? Nothing phased her.

(Mostly nothing.)

Maybe assuaging his fears would help. "I'm just asking for clarity's sake. Not because I think he did it."

"R-right. Right..." He wrung the napkin some more. "Mr. Manella is...he's hard to be around sometimes? Not that I want to speak out of turn or anything but...he doesn't listen when people tell him they need space." Hm. "His writing is really good, all things considered. I don't think I've ever met anyone with his level of skill. I'm really lucky to work on his show."

"But—?" It hovered there, unspoken.

"But also...I don't know." All her prodding did was elicit a heavy sigh from Will Powers. "There's some times when it's hard to enforce the boundary between our time on set and off. I know Hammer especially had some issues with that, but his situation was already kind of difficult."

"His pay?"

He nodded at her. "They worked him to the bone. When he wasn't the Evil Magistrate, he was any number of small bit suit roles—none of them speaking. But that's not something that was targeted from Mr. Manella! He always wrote the characters in ways that felt natural! It's just...a pity that Hammer won't be around to see the payoff for all the character work he did. Apparently the script for the season finale was almost done and it was two special-length episodes."

Man. That sounded so cool. "So Sal Manella didn't bear Jack Hammer any ill will?" Maya tried to steer them back on topic.

"Nice save." Nick laughed. She was trying her best!

"Not as far as I or anyone else knew?" Will Powers shrugged. "He was a huge fan of the Samurai series of films before he was hired on as director and writer for Steel Samurai. From what I heard, Mr. Manella was actually one of those fans. The type you need to avoid."

"Obsessive?"

"Persistent." Right. The cease and desist letters. Oldbag had mentioned as much. "Now that he's in charge—to some degree—he's apparently leveled out some. The shiny came off the penny, probably."

Probably. "What about Dee Vasquez?" Pivot and push forward.

"Ms. Vasquez? She's great!" The sudden enthusiasm Will Powers had was startling in comparison. "She's actually, uh, the reason Global Studios is doing so well these days."

"Didn't he say the bigwigs were discussing Global's future? How 'saved' even is the Studio if that's occurring in the background?"

"Oh?" Maya, for all her obsessive tendencies when it came to the Steel Samurai, had actually never heard of Dee Vasquez, which is partially why she was so interested in hearing about her. But Nick did have a point; if Dee Vasquez had quote-unquote 'saved' Global Studios, then why were people having poorly kept secret discussions about the longevity and budget of its productions and shows?

"Way back when, maybe a decade or so ago—before Mr. Manella was brought on to write Steel Samurai—the whole place was having problems making money. Ms. Vasquez came in and fixed things up." That was vague and not at all suspicious. "She's a little cold and doesn't talk to many people but she runs a tight ship and she's the first person people go to when Mr. Manella starts to, uh, overstep boundaries."

Cold, competent, and controlling—or at least good at reigning in nerds with little-to-no idea on what proper personal space and professionalism was. An interesting combination of traits for someone who was primarily the producer for a children's tokusatsu show.

"So she's the one who keeps things up and going? Not someone higher up the corporate ladder?" That was the confusing part. Why was the producer given so much control over an entire two studio lot?

Will Powers shrugged. "I don't know why the bigwigs do what they do but Ms. Vasquez has produced Steel Samurai for its entire run and was Assistant Producer for a few of the Samurai films before she was promoted. Since then, she's pretty much the person running our slice of Global."

"Weird." Maya was inclined to agree with Nick on this one.

Oh, wait. "Both Oldbag and Penny mentioned that children sometimes sneak into the lots? In fact, there was a kid there that day. Do you know anything about that?"

As strange as it might have been to watch a man as broad as Maya was tall try and disappear, it was stranger still to watch him turn a bright fuchsia color while he did so. He was embarrassed. "Th-there are kids. They don't come by the, uh, part of the studio where we tend to, uh, be practicing fights. Usually they're, um, in the filming lot for dress rehearsals or, uh, actual shoots." He was shredding the napkin into thin strips, twisting it to and fro in his large hands. "I try to stay out of sight because, well, you know—"

Maya nodded. She did know and, for all that she could separate his intimidating presence from his meek personality now, she understood why he didn't like to go about without the mask and costume on when fans could see him.

"Ms. Vasquez or Ms. Oldbag are the ones who have the most problems with them. Mr. Manella is the one who keeps, uh, 'fixing' their entrance in Studio One, but nobody really minds them being around until we start working with fights."

"Because of the weapons?"

He nodded, face set in a stern but worried frown. "Even if they're blunted, even if they're not real, they're weapons. It's not safe! I mean..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

"If Hammer died to the Spear, then that's a liability. If kids had gotten hurt in similar ways, then that's a cut-and-dry lawsuit." Nick muttered as he floated gently beside Maya. "No wonder the Global Studios paid the staff to shut up about them being there. You can fire a cameraperson or assistant or even an actor for murder, but the moment a studio executive gets caught killing someone, the entire company is dead in the water."

"They usually weren't around during fight run-throughs though, were they?"

Will Powers shook his head again. "Ms. Oldbag actually did a lot of work to keep them away during that time. I don't know why she wasn't as vigilant that day but..."

"Penny mentioned staffing issues?"

"That might be it. There have been some cutbacks and the non-actor staff have been thinning. Maybe before it was easier for Ms. Oldbag to rope one of the staff into herding the kids away?"

"Oh, before I go to Global Studios to take another look around," Maya shifted in her seat slightly, "the Samurai Spear. You and Oldbag both said that there was a snap in the shaft that she mended, right?"

"Yeah?" He didn't seem to know where she was going with this.

"Why did Oldbag mend it? We've already talked about the staffing issues and Penny was in another part of the Studio, repairing a setpiece, but aren't there other people who could have quickly fixed it up? She not only tended to your injury but mended a prop and then clocked in for her shift as security. That seems like an awful lot of things for one woman to do." And it seemed like an awful lot of things for that specific woman to do, if she didn't like something or someone.

A strange, complicated, and nigh indecipherable series of expressions crossed Will Powers' face very quickly, leaving him looking puzzled and something close to grateful. "Ms. Oldbag is...she's done her job for a very long time. Aside from, uh, Hammer and Ms. Vasquez, she's the one that's been with the Studio the longest and she really does care? Even if she's loud and opinionated and sometimes a little scary, she's, uh, dutiful? She cares about the Studio and the people in it. I actually think she knows everyone's names—even crew. Not even the hiring staff remember that."

Huh.

Nick echoed her surprise aloud. "Huh."

"Don't get me wrong; she may care about everyone but that doesn't mean she likes them, but..."

"I get it." Really, she did. "And I'll be making her an apology gift of gionbō to make up for putting her in the line of fire. She didn't deserve it but I was panicking a little."

"You were panicking?" Did he not notice how genuinely stressed and off-kilter she was? Maya stared at him so he continued. "You looked so put-together and composed. I would have never thought that—"

Nick was grinning at her. Still, Maya was too taken aback to truly understand why. Despite all her floundering and panicking and the stress she was under, she still looked cool and collected to her client—to Will Powers? Even though she had been in a full cold sweat, ready to snap from the pressure, she seemed self-assured from the outside?

"Remember how I said that, to Will Powers you're some kind of genius prodigy? You're doing great, Maya." She did remember but—

"I...thank you, Powers-san." What else could she say? That revelation—and it was a revelation—had shaken her and she was unsure of how else to proceed past cutting the conversation where it lay and going somewhere else. "That's very kind of you."

"No worries!" And he meant it. —— Global Studios' campus was somehow more desolate than the day before, even with a solid twenty-four hours between the murder and now. Apparently, Maya was realizing, nobody wanted to work in a crime scene—especially if it was still active. Weird, that.

The security office was unmanned. "I'd say this is a security violation or something but with the amount of cops roaming around, you'd have to be some kind of idiot to try and pull something here."

"They're like ants," Maya agreed. Just in the walk from the bus stop to the parking lot, they'd seen three different uniformed officers. "And this is a picnic."

"Speaking of: where's our favorite ant?"

Good question. Maya shrugged. "Iunno. Probably dealing with Oldbag?"

That made Nick hiss in sympathy. "Yikes."

"Mmhmm." Past the security gate—and after taking a moment to smile for the camera—Maya stopped at the fork in the path. "Oh hey. They moved the clock."

Mr. Monkey's head was no longer in the path to Studio Two. That meant someone—probably Prosecutor Edgeworth—raised a stink about traipsing through the woods to investigate it now that it was part of the problem. Maya placed a hand on the concrete mascot head and closed her eyes to offer a mostly-insincere prayer to the poor deceased timekeeper.

"You still want to talk to Penny?"

"Of course." Maya finished her prayer and looked over her shoulder at Nick. He was floating upside down, like he did when he was thinking. He joked that it shook the thoughts out of his head. "Why?"

"Well I was going to suggest we divide and conquer again today, but I also didn't want a repeat of last time." Yeah...that had been embarrassing for Maya.

"I don't think I'll have the...same issue as yesterday." After the initial shock had worn off, being in the same area as the body had been wasn't as triggering as before. She could handle it. She was a big girl. She had a job and everything!

(And even in the dark of night, when she woke up in the throes of a nightmare, the phantom fingers of an undead Mia wrapped around her neck, she didn't cry. It didn't matter that she couldn't sleep well most nights, just that she didn't make Nick worry about her. She was independent. She was capable. She didn't see her sister's vengeful spirit every time she closed her eyes. She just filled her apartment with noise and drank coffee and pretended it was fine, just like an adult would.)

"You sure?" He wasn't asking because he thought lesser of her. He was asking because he was worried.

Maya smiled so tightly she thought her face was going to crack in two. "Yeah, of course I'm sure!"

If he had any concerns, Nick didn't voice them. Instead he nodded towards where Studio Two was. "I'll go snoop around—"

"Gather information," Maya corrected.

"—gather information while you go chat up your friend, okay?"

Wait. "I'm not just going to talk to Penny because she's my friend!" Admittedly, the indignation in her voice was meant to mask her embarrassment. Yes, she did want to talk to Penny for work reasons. If work reasons also meant they could chat about Steel Samurai, that was fine wasn't it? Who was he to judge?!

"I never said that." Nick wasn't even trying to pretend like he wasn't laughing at her. Rude. "I just called her your friend. You can chat about the case, can't you?"

Oh, this was a trap. "Within reason." She couldn't discuss some of the finer points of the trial and investigation—what little she knew of the latter—but she absolutely needed to be careful about details and confidential information regarding Will Powers' situation.

His eyebrows shot up, almost like he wasn't expecting her to have thought that far ahead. "Wasn't what I was getting at, but yeah. Good call."

"Go shove your head in Studio Two's trashcan." Maya waved at him to leave. He laughed so hard it sent him spinning.

"Only if I think it'll yield anything of value." Between breathless ghostly laughs, he tacked on a little dig at her expense. "Go be a nerd with your friend."

Maya blew a raspberry. Nick returned the favor.

"We can convene at Studio One when I'm done. Don't take too long, okay?"

"Yes dad!" Rolling her eyes, she turned on her heel and made her way towards the Employee Lounge, Nick going the opposite direction, through the woods to Studio Two.

Unlike the more closed-off Studio One, the Employee Lounge was out in the open with a storage warehouse and the dressing rooms being the only indoor aspects of it. It was a strange choice, Maya thought, to have their dining and relaxation area outdoors, but who was she to judge? She grew up in the mountains and ate at a traditional low table. Maybe that was more cost effective? Who could say.

Either way, apparently this was where the action scene run-through had taken place, as well as where the crew had taken their lunch. The round diner tables clustered in the far side of the lounge—closer to what Maya figured was the dressing room than the entrance or warehouse—still had plates with the remnants of t-bone steaks on them. They hadn't had time to rot yet but it was concerning and flies were already gathering.

Yuck.

On the opposite side, near a wall that was part of the border that cordoned off Global Studios' campus from the outside area, were some backdrops and the crouched form of someone Maya recognized.

"Penny!"

Penny jerked up and whipped around. Tears of pain glittered in her eyes behind her glasses but, once she realized who was calling her name, her pinched expression evened out into one of relief and happiness. "Maya!"

"Did I startle you? I'm sorry." Penny was clutching her hand to her chest, a hammer at her feet. Behind her, where she had been kneeling, was a couple planks of plywood hastily nailed to the wall, duct tape holding the corners of some of them.

"No! I mean," Penny doubled back on her statement, "you did startle me, but it's not the first time I've smashed my fingers working on set. No biggie."

"You get worker's comp for that?" The sharp bark of laughter Maya got in response was answer enough. Right...Global was having staffing and money issues. "Anyway, most of this is a business thing. You know how it is."

"Most?" The teasing way she raised an eyebrow reminded Maya of Nick.

"Can't I see a friend at her workplace with no ulterior motives?"

"When the workplace is a crime scene, probably not." All teasing aside, she was right.

"Yeah, well I mostly had some questions about Sal Manela, Dee Vasquez, and the overall situation at Global Studios." No need to beat around the bush. Brass tacks, Mayoi Fey.

Penny winced and curled her injured hand closer to her chest, nervously playing with her vest zipper. "Yeah...I figured you'd have questions about that. I heard what Oldbag said."

Someone in the gallery probably was blogging or posting about the trial. News—especially where actors were concerned—traveled fast in online spaces. Maya tried to not let her distaste for the lack of her client's privacy show on her face. It wasn't personal and, if she wasn't involved on a professional level, she might also be engaging in fandom speculation.

"The funny thing is: you already told me Sal Manella and Dee Vasquez were around." At Penny's surprise, she continued on. "It was right after I had...recovered from my, uh, incident." Panic attack, her internal Nick supplied, and it wasn't your fault. Easy for her to think about, harder for her to internalize. "You named a handful of people when I asked about who was on campus that day and you mentioned the actors, the cameraperson, Oldbag, yourself, the stunt coordinator, the producer, and Sal Manella."

Penny gaped at Maya in a mix of horror and realization. "I did, didn't I?"

"I assume that Dee Vasquez also offered you a bonus to keep you quiet?"

She nodded, casting her gaze down at the floor. "It was a whole week's pay on top of what I was already earning, all to not mention her and Sal having the higher-ups by for lunch. That's a lot of money."

"I'm not blaming you or Will Powers or even Oldbag for taking the bribe." And she wasn't. Money was money and with how overworked everyone was here, a week's pay as a bonus was well worth shutting your trap. "Given the circumstances, you probably didn't think anything of it, did you?"

She shook her head. "It was weird, yeah, but it's not like the higher-ups come by very often. When they do, nobody aside from Sal or Vasquez ever sees them. It's not our business."

The hierarchy of Global Studios was pretty strict then. "Can you tell me anything about Sal Manella? I'm hoping to talk to him later."

Penny winced, a full-body thing that made her look like she was struck. Maya was reminded of how she had seemed uncomfortable with talking about Sal Manella yesterday, even as she mimicked his voice when mentioning the kids who snuck in to watch the actors. She was also reminded of Will Powers talking about boundaries and Oldbag talking about cease and desist orders. When Penny spoke again, her voice was choked and gated, as if she was choosing every word very carefully.

Considering Sal Manella was, to some degree, her boss, she probably was.

"Sal is...he's not bad. I've known worse."

"Unofficially running the online PR probably means you've seen the scum of fandoms, huh?"

Penny grimaced. "If I have to moderate one more child-friendly forum I think I might tear my hair out. The sheer amount of not safe for work art I have to gun down is untenable. Sal at least—when he's in a position to be posting online, which isn't often since Vasquez keeps him pretty busy—isn't putting porn in front of the younger audience."

"Low bar." It was, but still...

"Yeah, but it's important to know that, right?" The way she was emphasizing that, like she was about to badmouth Sal Manella, made Maya's ears perk up. "Because as much as he behaves himself in public, he's not as careful in private. He never is weird with me, or not in any way where I could report him, but it's something to keep in mind."

Concerning.

"Sometimes he has issues determining where boundaries are. He's very into watching people to get ideas—do you remember the Pyrite Phantom?" Maya did. She was one of the villains who got a small multi-episode focus, an attempt by the Evil Magistrate to create an ayakashi to rival the Steel Samurai by cloning him. It had gone wrong, of course, and she had been brittle and only had an echo of his power, but her story had been fascinating to say the least. "That was me."

Maya frowned. "How?" The Pyrite Phantom had been a weak, timid thing who couldn't take more than one punch but, in the end, had sacrificed herself for the Steel Samurai because he had shown her kindness while the Evil Magistrate had only ever used her.

"Sometimes I, uh, mimicked the action scenes? When I thought I was alone?" Oh.

"And he just—?!" Suddenly, Will Powers' joke about someone stealing the Lavender Lawyer idea from her, uncredited, didn't seem like much of a joke any more.

"A lot of the villains and side-characters are inspired by people he sees. He's pretty good at looking at someone, watching them, and finding something worth writing about in their mannerisms and personality and looks. It's actually impressive, in a way."

"It's invasive though, isn't it?" It soured some of his writing for her. How could she like a show when parts of it were other actual people?

Penny just shrugged. "Vasquez is the final say for a lot of things and if anyone has issues, they talk to her and she puts her foot down. I didn't hate the Pyrite Phantom—it felt like I was finally a part of something I like—but it did, uh..." She started playing with her zipper again, gaze cast down at the floor once more.

Maya didn't need her to finish explaining herself. "You didn't feel comfortable trying to mimic the fight scenes after that. Not here, anyway."

She nodded. "That's Sal's big issue, really. Boundaries. What is and is not okay. Other than that, he's actually a decent enough boss. He doesn't bother with anyone that isn't an actor so I fly under his radar."

Oh. "But Jack Hammer and Will Powers are the top-billed actors for Steel Samurai." That earned her a nod. "Did that cause any issues on set or around the campus?"

Surprisingly, Penny shook her head. "Believe it or not, but Sal wasn't too weird with Mr. Jack or WP. He was overly friendly and casual, treating them like they were close friends or drinking buddies or something, but nothing anything like you might think. Did WP say anything about Sal?"

What could she say in confidence? "Client confidentiality, but nothing bad. Mostly what you said; stuff about boundaries and Dee Vasquez being the one to reign him in."

Penny's posture relaxed and she sighed. "That's good. I worry."

Will Powers was a timid man and, as someone who worked with him, of course Penny would know that and worry about him. The thought alone made Maya happy that someone cared about him like that.

"Anyway, what about Dee Vasquez. I've heard of Sal Manella before—he's pretty widely known after all—but I've never heard of her." She might need to go rewatch the Samurai films to see if she could spot her name in the credits as assistant producer.

"Oh Vasquez is great!" Penny brightened up and wasn't it odd that this was the second person she'd met who only had kind words to say about the producer? "I mean, she's part of why Sal works for Global, but her work even before that was amazing."

"She was AP for the Samurai films, right? The ones that made Jack Hammer big?" Maya remembered Oldbag being the one to bring that up. "That was her first work with Global Studios, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Before that, apparently she was a small-time director and organizer for local film festivals but liked producing better, or that's what she said in interviews." Penny was back to being excited, her eyes sparkling. "Dynamite Samurai was her first feature film and the reason she got her spot here. It did numbers."

Maya was in agreement. "Of the Samurai films, I'm most fond of Samurai Summer, but Dynamite Samurai is a really good one. Solid action adventure. Great fight choreography."

"The stunt coordinator from that film not only did all the fights in the Samurai films but also went on to work on Steel Samurai." Penny puffed out her chest in pride, excited to share this trivia with her friend. "It's why the fights in Steel Samurai look so good."

"No kidding..." But they had to stay on topic. "But she brought attention to the studio?"

"Attention and money." Penny seemed to understand what Maya wanted and quickly changed topics. "Global Studios hired her as an assistant producer at first but by the last wave of Samurai films she was pretty much top dog. Half the main actors were hired on her recommendation, Sal too. The only person who was here longer than her and Mr. Jack is—"

"Oldbag."

"After the switch from films to TV syndication, Vasquez more or less became the top boss around here. The only people she answers to are the studio heads but they let her do whatever and, money problems aside, it's working. Steel Samurai is one of the highest-grossing shows on television right now. It's just...not enough I guess."

Right. Money made the world go around and Global Studios doing tours of their campus was a money thing. "Do you think she might have—"

Penny shook her head so hard that, once again, Maya was worried her glasses might fall clean off and shatter. "Mr. Jack wasn't...he wasn't a nice man but he was good at what he did, and what he did was action. Sure, she worked him hard and sure, she probably underpaid him, but why would she kill him? Wouldn't firing him be better?"

"Good point." Once again, that sort of anti-motive. Jack Hammer was being underpaid and overworked—everyone said so, which was unusual—and Dee Vasquez was controlling enough that she wouldn't let go of someone useful like that. Why was it sticking in her head so hard? Was there something to that?

Wait...

"Jack Hammer wasn't nice?"

Penny flushed under Maya's scrutiny. "Okay, so, you know how people love a villain?" Yeah, she did. "I was really really into the Evil Magistrate. There was something so interesting to me about how it never felt like he was really trying to kill the Steel Samurai, like he was more fighting for the sake of it, or playing a game. Anyway, when I got hired for assistant work, I might have embarrassed myself?"

"You wanted to talk to the actor for your favorite character."

"And he, uh, wasn't exactly happy about it?" She fiddled with her zipper, face drawn. She looked frustrated. "He got, um, defensive? Or maybe just plain upset. He yelled at me a bit. I don't, uh, remember the specifics but I just, uh, never really talked to him after that if I didn't have to. It put me off trying."

That's why she called him 'Mr. Jack' but called Will Powers 'WP'; because Will Powers hadn't been rude to her while Jack Hammer had. "That sucks. I'm sorry."

"Oh, you know, never meet your heroes!" That was some of the strongest deflection Maya had ever heard. Even the bitter, frustrated laugh she gave felt fake and forced. Her heart went out to Penny.

"I dunno, sounds like an asshole to me." Maya smirked at Penny, who stifled a small giggle. "You didn't deserve that. But thanks for talking to me. Hope I didn't interrupt anything important!"

"I was just finishing up boarding the grates in Studio One and here, on Oldbag's orders." Penny waved her hand—the one she had smashed with the hammer moments before—at the plywood mess on the wall. "Figure we don't need any more bad press and also maybe I should play nice so she's more forgiving when she gets back."

Right. "Sorry about that. I panicked and needed someone to take a bit of a fall to buy me time."

"The age-old skill belonging to lawyers and college students alike: bullshitting!"

Maya snorted. "More or less. She was the most plausible sell to the judge and it didn't hurt that she was being difficult. I do feel bad but nothing a wagashi can't solve, right?"

The mere mention of wagashi made Penny's eyes sparkle. "Oh?"

"I figured a good apology would be to make my Aunt Kimiko's gionbō. You think Oldbag would like them?"

"Maya," she sounded as serious as the grave, "there is nobody on this earth who wouldn't love to get an apology gift that's just handmade wagashi."

"Nice to know because it'll be my first time in a while making them." She laughed, relieved. "But yeah, uh, go do what you need to. I don't want to hold you up, okay?"

"Send me pics of the gionbō while you're making it?"

"Am I just some kind of food blogger to you?"

"It's equivalent exchange, isn't it? I tell you about stuff going on behind the scenes during filming and you show me good food." They had only been friends for a day—insofar as a day's acquaintance could constitute a friend—but it was so fascinating how quickly Penny seemed to understand Maya. Maybe it was because they were around the same age or maybe it was because they were fans of the same show, but it was nice.

She'd never had a friend like this before.

"I'll be up front, manning security if you need me." And with that, she was gone.

Maya stared at the plywood and duct tape mess on the wall. It wasn't pretty but it was serviceable, judging by the metal grate cover on the floor. Unlike the one in Studio One, this one probably was very loose and had been kicked out by one too many children trying to watch their favorite characters work. No wonder Oldbag wanted it full-on boarded up.

But if the kid came back...

The thought of putting him on the stand was nauseating. She didn't like being a witness and she was probably ten years older than whoever this so-called 'whippersnapper' was. But if he could help...if he had any kind of lead...

"Sorry Penny, but if Oldbag asks, it's my fault and not yours." Maya grabbed the hammer and tore the boards up, leaving the duct-taped and nailed parts alone so that it looked like whoever had managed to sneak in had busted the barricade with brute force instead of carefully removing things with a hammer.

She just hoped that this wouldn't blow up in her—or Penny's—face.

Leaving the grate in ruins, Maya poked around the dressing room—and she was inclined to agree that it did feel a little scandalous to go nosing in someone's personal space, especially if they were an actor, but seeing the messed-up cot in Will Power's dressing room alleviated some of her worry—and...procured a misplaced keycard to get into Studio One. Just so Gumshoe didn't have to prop it open again, of course.

Then she hurried off to meet up with Phoenix because there wasn't anything else of note there aside from an overpriced vending machine of branded soda—which did bring up the question why the hell Global was making their workers pay for drinks but, again, they were having money issues, so...

The keycard she...borrowed worked perfectly well and Studio One's door beeped to let her in. The large warehouse-like building was cold as death—don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it—but very little had changed since she had come here the day before. The white outline indicating where Hammer's corpse had been found, the evidence markers, the director's chairs, the props, the backdrops, the paint.

The only thing out of place was the man crouched in front of a grate that had, similar to the one in the Employee Lounge, been boarded up with plywood and duct tape. Maya tried to place where she knew him from before he noticed her but he was fast on the draw, turning to face her as soon as the door closed behind her.

Thankfully, it wasn't too hard to figure out who this was from the front. Maya had seen his picture a dozen times on a dozen different fansites and articles and forum posts. This was Sal Manella, writer for the Steel Samurai.

(In the back of her head, Maya remembered what Penny had said about personal boundaries. She hoped with all of her that Nick would show up soon, if only for the comfort of having another person nearby.)

Sal Manella squinted at her, his eyes fuzzy dots behind his fingerprint-covered glasses. "Who are you?"

Penny's impression had been pretty spot on. Sal Manella sounded like his nose was stopped up and his mouth was dry. He also had a faint accent Maya couldn't place but that was neither here nor there.

"Maya Fey, Will Powers' attorney. I was actually hoping to find you here today."

"Were you?" He continued to watch her carefully. With how strong his prescription was, it was difficult to tell when he blinked, making his stare feel eerie and unending. "Why? Didn't you get what you needed from the others?"

"They can only offer me their side of things. I wanted to hear what you were doing from you, if it's not too much trouble, Manella-san." She gave him a bow and he let out a surprised noise.

"Oh?" She could feel his eyes rake up and down her body. "You're Japanese then? Pretty young for a lawyer."

Vasquez will keep him under control. I have a way to shut him down if he tries something. He's not known for doing anything awful, just for being weird. Maya schooled her voice into the most polite tone she could manage and only barely avoided sounding curt by an inch. "Neither of these things have anything to do with the case at hand, Manella-san. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

If he understood she was shutting him down, he didn't express it outwardly. Instead, he started scribbling in a notebook like a man possessed, only offering her a nod of acknowledgment. "Sure."

"Oldbag-san said that you, Vasquez-san, and the higher-ups at Global Studios had a meeting some time after the action scene run-through, is that correct?"

"Didn't even get to eat lunch. It was a t-bone steak." His pencil continued to move quickly, glancing up over the notebook every so often to watch her. "Noon to four was the meeting. After that, we moved to go start filming but with Mr. Monkey in the path, we had to wait it out. Then we found Hammer."

Found. Maya took a sharp breath. Found. They found Hammer. They found his corpse. Deep breaths. Calm down.

"Who all was there aside from yourself and Vasquez-san?" She tried fishing for names.

Sal Manella looked up at that and raised an eyebrow. "No idea. I don't keep names. That's Diva's job." Alright...

"Speaking of her; what is your relationship with Vasquez-san like? I know that she's the person who hired you to write for Global Studios, but is there anything else?"

His pencil stilled and stopped. He fixed her with his beady, unblinking eyes, bored into her. "Diva is...strong. She really keeps this place working. Dangerous too." Sal Manella flashed a grin, all eyeteeth. "I like dangerous women." What was she supposed to make of that statement?

"Oh? Can you elaborate?" Maya pressed, praying he would give her something to work with.

"On?" He had gone back to his scribbling.

"How she keeps the place running."

"Oh." He paused his scribbling to think, chewing on the end of his pencil. After a few seconds, the metal warping beneath his mastication, he just offered her a shrug. "Couldn't say. Not my job. My job is writing."

"I know that." She smiles so tersely that she's almost afraid that Sal Manella might glance up from his scribbling and get the wrong idea. "I'm a huge fan of the show." Maybe that will clear up any possible misunderstanding.

What it apparently did was greenlight whatever he was working on. "Glad to hear it." He turned his notebook around to show her the page that he was working on. It was a really detailed mock-up of a new character: a Steel Samurai-style suited hero done up in an outfit eerily reminiscent of Maya's own Kurain-inspired business wear. She's marked up with arrows noting her color scheme—lavender, rose, and a soft silver—and other sundry details that Maya can't make out due to Sal Manella's handwriting being a hot mess. "The Pink Princess of Little Olde Tokyo. Girl power is big right now. We don't change the format too much and it's a good spin-off. Marketable, or so Diva would say. You're a fan so...thoughts?"

"Wow. When Powers joked about someone stealing your idea without credit, I thought he was kidding." Maya had never been more grateful to nearly choke on her own surprise but here she was. She tried to subtly give Nick a look that he thankfully figured out without too much issue. "Talk about royalties or a lump sum payment for use of your likeness and culture without agreeing to or denying anything. Open to negotiation. Even if Global can't afford it, it's a good offer."

"I think," Maya tried to keep her voice light and professional, "that this sounds well and good, although Global Studios and I would have to discuss payment for my likeness and my village's cultural garb in your show. We can table that discussion for later."

"Ok." He closed his notebook, slipped it in his cargo short's side pocket, and tucked the pencil behind his ear. "I'll let Diva know."

"Do you think," Maya tried to head him off before he decided he was going to leave, "I could talk to her as well?"

"Why?" There. Something other than disinterest or a wry eye. He sounded...concerned? Upset? What does he have to hide?

"Because I want to ask her questions, same as I asked you. Lawyer stuff." She hoped that would be enough to placate him.

It wasn't. "Like? What can Diva tell you that I can't?" He sounded like a whining child. "Ask away! You don't need to bother her!" Bother?

"He's...this is...hm." Even Nick was at a loss for words. That was a feat.

Maya silently asked him what to do with only her eyes and the power of cute. He just shrugged at her, the traitor.

"Okay." Might as well take what she could get. "Hammer-san was reportedly being paid less than his fellow actors, minor suits included. Is any of that true?"

He frowned. "I mean, if he was, didn't he deserve it?"

"Wouldn't you know as his higher-up?"

"I don't sign his checks, I just write the scripts." Sal Manella shrugged, unbothered by how genuinely horrified Maya was by his attitude on the matter. "But if Hammer was being paid less, he'd earned it. That's how having a job works, right?"

"That's not how that works!" Nick was incised. "Your quality of work doesn't determine how much you're paid if you're a card-carrying actor's guild member. That's extremely illegal!"

"Was Hammer-san a member of the actor's guild?" Sal Manella stared blankly at her. "You don't know?"

"I'm not part of the actor's guild, nor is Diva. If anyone here is, the actor's guild hasn't talked to me about how Global is running things."

"But he was being underpaid?"

"No idea."

Maya finally lost the battle with the sigh that had been building deep in her chest. "Thank you for your time, Manella-san. I think I'll have to continue this line of questioning with Vasquez-san, but I appreciate your help. If you're still interested in pitching the Pink Princess, you can reach me through my office." She pulled a business card from her jacket pocket and offered it to him, trying to not get graphite on her fingers.

He took it and stared at the glossy lavender stock, his expression indescribable. When he spoke again, his tone was different. Less casual and more contemplative. "Powers is a good actor. Does a good job. Deserves his spot in top billing." A beat, a moment of thought as he seemingly got his words back in order. "It'd suck if he went to jail."

"Yeah." If Sal Manella could hear the bitter edge to her voice, he doesn't react. "It would."

Maya wheeled about on her heel and left Studio One, unwilling to trust herself to not say anything else. She needed to remain professional, didn't she? So wasn't leaving before she could tear into Sal Manella about culpability and false charges and my client didn't do this a good thing?

Even if it did make her look curt and rude, even if it did mean she had Nick trailing after her asking if she was okay, she needed distance between herself and that entire frustrating conversation.

It wasn't until she had made her way back to the Employee Lounge, feet automatically taking her down the main road as she power-walked away from her problems, that she finally heard what Nick was saying.

Having probably talked nonstop from the moment she left Studio One to now—taking full advantage of his state of being and lack of breathing—Nick gestured furiously with one hand as he floated next to Maya. "—seriously. At the very least we could charge them with criminal negligence with regards to the vents and safety measures and, while I'm not versed in copyright law, I'm sure there's dozens of people who could take them to court over Manella's 'creative borrowing'. The nerve of that guy! The way he kept pushing culpability off on Vasquez as if he wasn't someone in a position of power himself. It's - it's infuriating is what it is! I'm not surprised Maya—"

"Nick." He stopped, suddenly aware she was looking at him. She gave him a wobbly, probably not convincing smile to try and reassure him. "Sorry for dashing away like that but—"

"No, I get it." He was frowning so hard that Maya was worried he might start coughing. She wasn't sure what set it off but it seemed to be based around his emotional state and, while he couldn't die a second time, it was a deeply concerning noise that made her worry. "I mean," he shrugged and shifted mid-air to laze back on his elbow, crossing one leg over the other, "I might've yelled at him if it was me, but walking off was the more professional response. You ended the conversation and exited it in one swift move. Good choice."

Maya grimaced. "I'm glad you think so. I just...it sucked to talk to him."

"Perils of being a lawyer: you meet some of the worst types of people." His mouth bent in a soft curve, thoughtful in spite of his furrowed brow. "The opposite is true, of course, but the bad ones stick with you more, don't they?"

Maya made a noncommittal noise.

"Anyway, uh, I don't think I told you what I found at Studio Two, did I? We planned to exchange information." There had never been a less subtle segue in the world but Maya took the out.

"Yeah. What was over there?" The autumn breeze was crisp and felt good against her skin. The sunshine was mild but it felt like the world deserved to be painted in the warm colors of falling leaves. It was hopeful and cozy, a balm for how bitter and frustrated and knotted Maya felt. She tried to hold on to the external feeling of calm instead of her internal turmoil.

"So Studio Two is a large trailer or something? It looked like it was a movie set at one point and they just never took it down." Nick's mouth flattened into a line, his expression pinching as he tried to figure out how to express his feelings. "It felt weird? Not like a memorial or some kind of attraction, but as a warning? Or something. No clue, but it was a little like how the detention center felt, if that makes sense?"

It didn't.

"Yeah," she lied.

He didn't look like he believed her but it was the kind of harmless lie that wove its way in and out of casual conversations. The type that coupled cars on someone's train of thought. "Anyway, there was some kind of production van—Global's got vanity plates for it—and an iron garden table with chairs. There were empty plates on the table but no clue as to what they ate. Plus the incinerator was nearby. Aside from that, I didn't really poke around inside the trailer much but I saw a bunch of posters of Hammer's filmography inside. It's probably locked so there's that."

Sal Manella said they didn't have time to eat. "Plates?"

"Yeah. Same as the ones here, sans the bone." He hummed in thought.

"Weird." What else could she say? "Don't know how we're gonna get into the trailer but we should at least try, right?"

"Isn't it unrelated? The murder was at Studio One, wasn't it?"

Maya grimaced. "Well, yeah, but—"

"I mean, don't get me wrong: I'm all for a little recreational B&E so long as it's tangential to your job because then you can maybe argue your case, but if it's entirely unrelated then it's just obsessive fan behavior."

Yuck.

Maya must've made a face because Nick laughed. "Sorry to ruin the idea for you."

"It reminded me of—" Behind her in the Employee Lounge was a loud noise, like something being knocked over. They startled and Maya exchanged looks with Nick. "Should we—?"

"Someone might be hurt." And that was that.

Near where the grate was, one of the tables had been upturned and the plates (and leftovers) had been scattered on the floor in a haphazard mess. Scrambling around, trying to set things right, was a small form in neon green, muttering under their breath.

"Hey I think that's a kid." Maya leveled a flat look in Nick's direction, unwilling to speak aloud for fear of startling him. "I wonder if this is the same one that Penny thought was hanging around the day of the murder?"

"Hey—" Maya tried to keep her voice low so as to not startle the kid. The way he was hunched over, frantically trying to put everything back the way they had been, felt familiar. It tugged at a lump in her throat, at a knot in her stomach, and she quelled the nausea with calm and even breathing.

The kid startled, jumping like a frightened cat, and reached behind his back to try and unsheath what appeared to be a replica of the Rusted Ronin's katana; though he struggled with the length when compared to their small size.

They were so small. Oldbag wasn't kidding when she said he was young. Maya tried to not let her feelings show on her face.

"Hey! Don't come any closer evildoer, or I'll cut you down without reprieve!"

Maya held her hands up in a show of peace. "Okay...I'll stay right where I am. No need to attack. We - I just heard the noise and was worried someone had gotten hurt."

The kid eyed her warily but stopped struggling with the replica blade, moving instead to fiddle with a small digital camera hanging around his neck. Maya took this moment to take in more of his appearance to try and get a better understanding of what he might like so she could talk to him fan-to-fan.

He was wearing a neon green Steel Samurai branded jacket over a salmon and orange graphic print tee that bore the Steel Samurai's signature. Aside from the sword—which made more sense than carrying around the Samurai Spear since that didn't have any kind of sheathe or carrying implement—he was also wearing a Steel Samurai chonmage hat, the long brim covering his eyes so he didn't have to make eye-contact if he didn't want to.

He was very obviously a huge fan and that was going to be how Maya connected with him.

She just hoped nobody else came by and decided to talk to the kid's guardians about testifying.

"Big fan?"

The kid bristled. "Are you blind? Huh? What do you think?"

Nick snorted but Maya paid him no mind. While talking to this kid wasn't exactly like talking to Pearl, she could draw on the endless patience she had for her younger cousin and not snap at this one. He was about the same age too. "I think you should've maybe looked into maybe a replica of the Damascus Daimyo's tantō because the Rust Ronin's katana is too long for you to reliably unsheathe because you're short."

The kid bristled again, this time less because of her talking and more because of what she was saying. "I'm not going to use some villain's weapon! I'll grow into it!"

"Then why not the Samurai Spear? It's clunky but you could carry it around if you don't mind losing access to a free hand."

"Well—" he started to say but she cut him off.

"I'm Maya Fey, by the way. What's your name?"

"Uh—"

Time to be a little mean. "You can't say we're not friends at least. Don't we both like the Steel Samurai? Plus—" she leaned in and cupped her hand around her mouth like she was telling him a secret, "—I'm currently working on a job for the Steel Samurai. You want to help him, don't you?"

Beside her, Nick audibly frowned. "Maya—"

The kid's face pinched. He fiddled with his camera, then nodded. "Cody Hackins. You're really helping the Steel Samurai?"

Maya grinned at Cody. "Yep. He hired me to prove something in court."

That got Cody to grimace again. "Court? That's boring."

"It's a little like a battleground, really, but with words instead of weapons." She was overblowing her own importance but Cody didn't need to know that. "Like how the Pearl Priestess' chants kept the ayakashi away from Neo Olde Tokyo while Steel Samurai was busy on the moon. Only with more shouting."

"That still sounds boring." Yeah, that was fair.

"I like it." Maya shrugged.

Cody relaxed his guard and started trying to set the table back upright. Maya moved to help him and this time he didn't startle away. The power of being into the same TV show.

She shot Nick a smug look. He just rolled his eyes. "You got lucky he's a little dork." Yeah, well...

"Glad to see that me unblocking the vent helped."

"You did that?" Cody's head snapped up to stare at her. "Why?"

"You were here a couple days ago and I figured you'd come back. So when the security lady had the vents boarded up, I opened this one because it was closest to the wall. I wanted to meet you." That was the wrong thing to say.

A sharp pain sparked lights across her eyes as Cody slammed his foot into her shin. Maya lost her balance, pitched sideways, dropped to the ground, and tried to not cry.

"Creep!" The kid darted away from her, struggling to unsheathe his replica sword. "Pervert!"

"N-no!" The words caught in her throat, the nausea choking them on the way out. "Cody, I—"

"What kind of dumb idiot do you think I am? This is coercion. You'll go to jail for being a weird predator."

"I'm just—"

"I'll - I'll call my mom! I'll scream real loud!"

While Maya tried to get her thoughts back in order, Nick just laughed. "I'm surprised a kid like him knows words like coercion and predator. I mean, safety and all, but wow."

"Will Powers—"

"You're not a trusted adult. I'm not going anywhere with you. I know this place like the back of my hand. You'll never catch me if I run!" The plastic blade, finally free of its sheathe, was pointed at Maya like it was real, like it was a deterrent. "I'll scream," he reiterated.

Nick, in his infinite wisdom, laughed at her plight. "Way to put your foot in your mouth."

Maya ignored him and tried one more time to appeal to Cody, to try and talk to him. "Believe me, I—"

"Back off!" He snapped. Maya stopped trying to get any closer to him. She even backed up a bit, hands held up in an attempt to soothe him. Instead, on all fours like a frightened animal, he scrambled back through the vent and disappeared, almost upending the table nearest the vent in the process.

In the vast emptiness left in his wake, Maya stared at the vent and seethed. She could hardly blame him for not wanting to talk to her after she had let slip she purposefully opened his way in and out of Global Studios. If some random stranger—even if they had been nice to you—said they were waiting for you, that's a clear moment of stranger danger.

But she needed to talk to Cody. She needed to get information from him.

"If it's any consolation," Nick drawled, planting his feet on the ground and walking over to where the vent was, "he might've helped us anyway." Maya fixed her gaze on him, tracing a line from his fingertip to a bottle of some sort rolling in an elliptical on the ground.

She pulled some disposable gloves out of her pockets, tugged them on so she didn't get her fingerprints on the evidence, and gently picked the bottle up off the floor. It was a heavy plastic thing, some kind of generic blank label on the center advertising some kind of fast-acting sleep aid. It was also half-empty.

"Huh." What?

"Yeah. This certainly is suspicious." Nick was leaning over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed as he thought. "Do you think this has to do with why Powers fell asleep so fast?"

"It can't hurt to ask. Does the police department test for this kind of thing?" Or, rather, can they?

"Probably."

But did she want to give up this kind of lead? Was she willing to hand over a secret weapon without much of a fight? Did she trust Prosecutor Edgeworth to do the right thing?

Hardly.

Maya fumbled through her pockets until she found a baggie. She finagled the baggie open and shoved the bottle of sleeping medication in, then sealed it back and pulled the gloves off with her teeth. Evidence get!

"Well..." The sharp exhale Maya let out was vicious and worn. It wasn't even sunset yet. What a day.

"Well." Nick, helpful as always, added nothing. "Maybe Penny has the keys to Studio Two?" Never mind.

"Couldn't hurt to ask."

"Couldn't hurt to ask." —— It could hurt to ask, actually.

"Do you get your kicks making poor old women take the fall for you and your foolish ideas? Or am I just lucky enough to be your personal punching bag?" Oldbag was angry. Maya didn't blame her, of course, but if the average Oldbag experience was like dealing with a downpour, this was a flood. She was struggling to just stay in place. "It's a good thing that I could easily prove that your accusation was nothing more than a whole lot of nothing or I would've wasted more of my day in the precinct and it doesn't matter how pretty the policemen are, I have a job to do!"

"As did I," Maya managed to interject, "and I am sorry about accusing you of the murder but it was a logical assumption." Nick's eyes widened in horror as Maya stepped on a verbal landmine.

"Logical? Logical?!" For a woman her age, Oldbag could get loud and high-pitched. Both Maya and Nick winced as she shrieked in indignation. "What part of saying that an old woman like me could wander around in a heavy full-body suit and carry a prop to go murder someone—let alone someone like my poor Hammer—is logical? Do you live on the moon? Is that why you consider it to be 'logical'? Well if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you and some real estate on Mars. Why don't you buy some of my miracle cure?! It's snake oil and horsepiss in a bottle and it'll fix your 'logical' right up!"

"I don't think I've ever heard anyone use snake oil and horsepiss in the same sentence." Maya could barely hear Nick mutter as Oldbag continued to berate her.

"Oldbag-san—"

"I already told you to drop your Japanese niceties since you were accusing me, didn't I girlie?!" Maya closed her mouth so hard her teeth clattered together. "Don't try and butter me up after the fact. While you might have free reign of the campus on account of you doing your job and all, it doesn't mean I have to cooperate with you in any matter. In fact: I'm going to be obstinate and not speak to you for the rest of your investigation. How's that?!"

How was that? On the one hand, Oldbag not talking was a relatively good thing because she was a headache and a half. On the other hand, Maya actually wanted information from her and, while she was difficult to deal with, she was a valuable witness. What to do...

"Real catch-22."

Not like Nick was helping in that regard. "I did want to apologize. I'm truly sorry for accusing you and I'm glad to have been wrong." Oldbag said nothing, just glared at Maya, huffing angrily. "However you can't blame me for believing you were hiding something. Especially since you did reveal that the staff was paid to keep quiet."

"I never lied, did I? Why would I hide anything? I only told the truth." So much for staying quiet. Thankfully, she was being more taciturn than before.

"You might not have lied directly, but lies of omission are a thing," she reminded Oldbag. "And insisting someone is a murderer based on the fact that you saw their suit being worn isn't the truth so much as an assumption."

"Assumption my ass." It wasn't yelling—more like grumbling—but Oldbag did seem a little chastised at least.

"I appreciate your honesty though. Really." She didn't seem like she believed Maya. That was fine. "Thank you."

There was a blessed stretch of silence, the sounds of nature and passing cars the only noise while Oldbag seemed to think about what she was going to say. Then— "What do you want, girlie? Don't beat around the bush. Aren't you a lawyer? Be more direct!"

Busted. "Is there any way I could get into Studio Two? I wanted to speak with Vasquez-san and I believe, based on what Manella-san said, that she might be there. The trailer is locked."

Oldbag's expression soured. She sneered at Maya and shook her head. "Not on your life, girlie. There's one spare key for the place and I've got eyes like a hawk. You're out of luck!"

"I'm surprised she's not dressing you down more thoroughly, honestly." Nick stepped through the security booth to see if she was telling the truth. "But she isn't lying. Key's labeled and everything."

"What if I asked nicely?"

"Then maybe when hell freezes over." Oldbag bared her teeth at Maya in a vicious grimace. "I can hold a grudge for forever and a half. This is karma."

Sure was.

"I wonder if she knows Cody is around?"

Good question. Maya bowed to Oldbag to hide her smile. "Thank you for your time. As an apology, maybe I should mention that I saw a small child with a Steel Samurai branded chonmage hat running somewhere near the Employee Lounge? I tried to call out to him but he just yelled about stranger danger and disappeared into the woods."

"He's gonna hate that you did this," Nick warned. She already knew that. He didn't have to know she sold him out though.

Oldbag stiffened, nostrils flaring. "What?! I told that Nichols girl to seal off the vents! Did she managed to mess that up? Where's her reliable talent now?! We can't have a whippersnapper wandering around an active crime scene!" Like a flash, she was off, the new sources of her ire unaware of the target just painted on their backs. Speaking of.

heads up: oldbag is not happy. my b orz

cool...thanks

shell probably be 2 tired after dealing w the kid 2 be mad @ u tho ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

here's hoping

ob has some energy for someone her age

lol ur telling me

anyway just wanted 2 warn u

thanks maya

np u_u

"You gonna text your friend until Oldbag gets back?" Nick could not have sounded more like an old man than in this moment. Really...

Maya rolled her eyes at him. "Alright grandpa. Is the door locked?"

"Do I look like someone who can check that?" Fair enough. Maya grabbed the handle and turned, the door opening with no resistance. "Now quick, before someone comes by. This place should really have CCTV."

"If it did," Maya noted as she slid a small metal key with a paper label that marked it as #2 up her sleeve, "then I'd never get anything done. The lack of CCTV is how I'm going to prove Powers-san innocent."

"Maya," Nick sounded so serious, trailing behind her as she closed the security gate's door on the way out, "if there was CCTV, you'd have an easier time proving Powers' innocence. A video tape showing him going into the dressing room and not coming out until when the body was found is way better than, I don't know, testing every T-bone for the sleeping pills we found until we prove that he was drugged and thus couldn't have been walking around at the time."

Damn. He was right. Maya puffed her cheeks in frustration.

"Sorry." He didn't sound sorry, even if he was laughing.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go pay Vasquez-san a visit, shall we?" Maya stomped off, Nick trailing behind her, stifling his laughter.

Somewhere in the distance, the faint sounds of Oldbag howling echoed throughout the campus.

Studio Two, like Nick had said, was a weird lot. A large van with a vanity plate on the front bumper that read 'GLOBAL S' was parked near an incinerator. A cast iron garden table with matching chairs was in front of a large permanent trailer building, some empty plates sitting on the table, same as in the Employee Lounge. Surrounding the trailer was a short cast iron fence enclosing a small garden of brilliant crimson petunias. A section of the fence near the wooden stairs leading into the trailer was bent in a weird way, like it had crumpled under the weight of something.

Overall it felt less like an actual film studio lot and more like an abandoned film set or someones home.

"I see what you meant." Nick looked at her in confusion so Maya elaborated. "This place feels...off." It did. Despite the crisp autumn weather, there was this lingering feeling of discomfort that wormed its way beneath her skin. It felt almost as bad as the murder scene in Studio One. Like there was lingering resentment painting the place in hot tar, clinging to anyone who came near.

"Yeah." Nick looked at the trailer.

No point in dallying. Besides, if Dee Vasquez got upset with her for entering the trailer, she did have a key and could throw Oldbag under the bus again.

Maya could only feel so sorry for the woman. She had just yelled at her, after all. Plus, like Penny had said, wagashi fixed everything.

Thankfully, she managed to lift the right key from security. The trailer door swung open and Maya slipped in quickly, closing it behind her so that if Oldbag was nearby she wouldn't get caught breaking and entering.

Was it breaking and entering if she had a key? She should research that later. For...curiosity's sake.

The inside of the trailer was certainly bare. While the outside of the building made it look like somewhere someone might live, the inside—probably something nobody but the crew would see in the first place—was only home to a large card table, a few fold out chairs, and a whiteboard covered in notes of some kind. Maya wasn't too worried about the whiteboard anyway because, like Nick had said, the walls were plastered with Hammer's film posters. Every single iteration of every single film poster he'd ever been on, all in frames and hung neatly on every inch of exposed wall.

"Yeah, uh, whoever uses this place is a huge fan, huh?" Nick chuckled. "If it was Hammer, then he was one hell of a narcissist. I bet Oldbag has a grand time swinging by here, pawing at them like a teen would an idol poster."

Maya went to reply to him—a sarcastic remark about how these posters actually were turbo-valuable—but stopped in her tracks as someone cleared their throat. Someone who wasn't herself or Nick. Someone she didn't recognize.

Well, she had come here to find Dee Vasquez, hadn't she?

"Who are you?" Maya turned to face the person, trying to get a read on them. Dee Vasquez—or so she assumed—was a tall woman with a stern face. She was dressed in a deep brown dress, a scarf of the same color wrapped around her head. Between her gloved fingers was a cigarette holder, the ember of her cigarette a spark of bright in the ocean of neutral colors that made up her outfit. She pursed her lips and raised a single shaped eyebrow, her smoky eyeshadow making her impatience clear from a distance.

She was a force to be reckoned with; self-assured and the queen of any space she stood in. No wonder Sal Manella called her 'Diva'.

"Oh, uh, hello. I'm Maya Fey, Will Powers' lawyer." Maya bowed to her, trying to keep her voice even. "I assume you're Vasquez-san?"

"You would assume correctly." Dee Vasquez spoke slowly, her low, rich voice soft but audible, as if even the air fell silent at her command. "Why are you here?"

Any of Maya's excuses left her mind the second Dee Vasquez demanded she explain herself. All she could do was manage to answer honestly. "I'm trying to clarify some of the events during Jack Hammer's death. Since yourself and Manella-san were around, I wanted to hear your side of the story. Manella-san and myself have already spoken and—"

"What good will it do?"

"Huh?"

"Asking me for clarification. What good will it do? Surely Sal has already told you where we were and what we were doing." She wasn't wrong but—

"I'm just covering my bases. Manella-san did tell me what you were up to but perhaps you have a different—"

"Regardless of your needs, I can't talk at the moment." Dee Vasquez must have noticed her confusion because, after taking a long drag of her cigarette and exhaling a clove-scented ring of smoke, she continued. "Sal is supposed to bring me the next script in progress. He hasn't. So I can't speak until I've read it."

"Maya—" Nick started to say.

"I can get it for you." She needed to talk to Dee Vasquez. This woman was hiding something or knew something, she just knew it. If she didn't take advantage of her being here, she would probably never get the chance again. "If I bring you the script, can you answer my questions, Vasquez-san?"

Dee Vasquez didn't bother dignifying her with a verbal response. Instead, she gestured idly with the hand holding her cigarette, the tip drawing a lazy elliptical in the air as she did so. That was, as far as Maya could tell, permission.

She gave her another bow and left the trailer, the air outside flooding her lungs as if she had been unable to breathe until that moment. Even the weird aura of this studio lot didn't stop her from feeling a weird sort of relief, like she came up from the bottom of the lake, the change in pressure making her a little lightheaded.

"Maya, are you sure—?" He meant well but...

(A clock shaped like a statue. Blood and glass. The detention center is unkind and unfeeling and she wants to throw herself into the arms of a ghost for comfort.)

She took deep, even breaths to try and chase away the panic attack. She couldn't fall apart now. Why did Dee Vasquez make her so uncomfortable? What about her reminded her of—

(Candles and green tea and wagashi and incense. Cold waterfalls and meditation and stern words disguised under formality. Eyes that felt like they were always appraising her, determining her worth. Praise that felt like damnation, comparison to someone she never knew.)

Ah.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Maybe...maybe it was better she hadn't—

Nick stared at her, his concern evident in the way his scarf fluttered around his shoulders in an invisible spectral wind. He looked like he wanted to say something about what he had just seen but...

"Well I can go look for you real quick so we don't have to go rummaging in the trash," he offered. She appreciated that he wasn't going to press the issue. She wasn't sure if she could handle deep introspection at the moment. "I'll hit up Studio One first just to see if Manella is still skulking around. Eliminate that first so you don't have to talk to him."

"It's his workplace, not mine. He can't skulk." Arguing for the sake of arguing, even if the words were padded and barely an argument in the first place, felt good. Stress relief.

Nick raised an eyebrow in challenge and she just held her hands up to show she wasn't going to continue pushing the issue. "That's what I thought. I'll meet you by the Employee Lounge?"

Did they need to go that far? "How about by Mr. Monkey. I'm going to see if I can find Gumshoe to give him the sleeping pill info."

"You want to tip your hand that early?"

"I mean...it can't hurt for him to be prepared? I don't want him to get in trouble with Prosecutor Edgeworth when I pull this out during the trial..."

Something soft and sad crossed his face, gone before she could place it. "I get that but maybe hold on to the pills? Think of it like our secret weapon. Like the first security photo."

"Mmm." He wasn't wrong. That had been her original plan, after all.

"Anyway: meet you at Mr. Monkey in maybe ten? I'll be as fast as my dead legs can carry me!" And he was gone. Maya was alone with only her thoughts.

Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket as she walked.

ob is on a warpath. wow

She smiled. It was nice having living friends, especially friends her age. Pearl would probably like Penny.

yea i can hear her from studio 2 :/

gonna give sal a piece of my mind i swear

oh?

he broke the vent in the lounge open

ob's gonna think i did it

Guilt pooled in her stomach, leaden hot.

u could always tell her he did it

like she'd believe me. he's a higher up

u were doing security. use that 2 ur advantage

bat ur eyelashes all ŐwŐ

get her donuts

that's a plan lol

thanks maya

np penny. anytime

Growing up in Kurain hadn't been without its good times. She genuinely loved her hometown and her culture. Even now, living in the city, where nobody really got what she did what she did, she sought to hold on to the parts of her that were distinctly from Kurain but—

For all that she missed Pearl, she was way less lonely here. Between Nick—dead as he might be—and Gumshoe—who was a work friend at best—and Penny—who was only a friend in that they both liked the same show—she had more than enough relationships in the city to be happy.

So why did she feel so guilty? Why did thinking about how much fun she was having—stress and murder and nightmares notwithstanding—remind her that, back home, Pearl was alone. There was no one else there. Nobody close to her age to hang out with.

And, for some reason, Aunt Kimiko wasn't calling. She probably wasn't letting Pearl make phone calls either. With no way for her to reach her aunt and cousin past sending a letter, she was just waiting for them to contact her and yet...

Maya chewed at the inside of her cheek. She couldn't dwell on this. If she did, she'd just fall to pieces. She had to be strong. She had to be strong for herself and for Mia. She had to do this...she couldn't falter.

"Good news!" Maya shrieked and swung the backside of her hand through Nick's upper torso. He burst into laughter as soon as she did that.

"Shut up!" Her face was probably mottled red with embarrassment. "Don't do that!"

"I thought you were used to me showing up out of nowhere!" The way he crooned, teasing and light, made her face heat up even more. "C'mon, Maya, you can't help but admit your reaction was funny!"

"You almost gave me a heart attack!" She wasn't going to admit a damn thing.

Nick snickered some more. "Anyway, anyway, news." News. "Manella isn't at Studio One but the script is."

"Easy." Surprisingly so.

"Isn't having a scout that can go through walls undetected super useful for fetch-quests?" Nick waggled his eyebrows at her. She just rolled her eyes in response.

"You're invaluable to me." The sarcasm was padded and toothless. She really did appreciate him.

"Well come on. No reason to waste time, is there?" He was right. Maya jogged after him, her concerns going by the wayside as she focused on the task at hand.

Dee Vasquez stared at the script in Maya's hand as if it personally offended her.

"Do you think you would be willing to answer my questions now Vasquez-san?"

She took the script, idly flipping through the pages. It was a long while before she spoke again. "Alright. You've earned your keep."

Maya clenched her teeth and prayed her tension didn't show in her jaw. "Manella-san said you and he were hosting the higher ups for a meeting of some sort. I assume it was held here?"

Dee Vasquez gestured at the card table with the tip of her cigarette. "We were discussing finances, among other things. This studio lot is isolated and not usually on the tour route."

"At what time?"

"You consider me to be a suspect?" Her question felt accusatory.

"Like I told Manella-san: I'm simply doing my job—"

"As Powers' lawyer. So am I a suspect then? Why else would my timetable be any of your business?" Dee Vasquez fixed Maya with a stern look. "The purpose of board meetings is to have some modicum of privacy to discuss the workings of a company. Why should I discuss private matters with you, a private defense attorney?"

"What is she on?" Nick bristled in frustration, defensively placing himself between Dee Vasquez and Maya. "Maya, she's—"

"I'm not asking you to talk about your business meeting, just that you corroborate Manella-san's alibi. I'm looking for clarity, not your personal information." She fought to keep her voice level, to not quail under the pressure. "Please, Vasquez-san."

"None of us could have done it." She said it with such finality that Maya felt lightheaded from the whiplash.

"Huh?"

"The crime occurred when?"

"Sometime around two-thirty in the afternoon?"

"The path leading out of Studio Two was blocked at the time. Nobody here could have made their way from this studio to the murder scene. It is impossible." She pinned Maya with her half-lidded stare, her intense gaze heavy. Wisps of smoke spun from between her lips like dragon fire. She was solid, unyielding.

"What does she even mean?" Nick's question broke Maya free of the strange paralysis she was under. She echoed his question.

"What do you mean you couldn't leave?"

"Mr. Monkey."

"The clock?" Dee Vasquez nodded, pleased that she didn't have to explain that much. "But what does—"

"The head came off of Mr. Monkey, did it not?" She wasn't expecting Maya to answer, continuing with her explanation even as Maya went to nod in agreement. "The size and weight of Mr. Monkey's head made it impossible for anyone to take the walkway between Studio Two and the main thoroughfare. In fact, it was only moved out of the way at about four in the afternoon on the day of the murder. Considering when the meeting started, there is no way anyone here could have committed the crime."

"Why does it matter the time?" Nick wondered.

Maya pursed her lips in thought. It was a good question. "Do you have any way prove the timeframe? Mr. Monkey could have fallen after two-thirty, giving the killer plenty of time—"

"Follow me." Dee Vasquez walked out of the trailer, slamming the script on the card table as she stalked out. Maya followed her, confused and a little concerned. They walked up the pathway to the beheaded mascot clock, where Dee Vasquez sighed a stream of smoke out of her nose. "This is a clock."

"Yes?"

"He tells the time in 'ooks'. One 'ook' for every hour. It's annoying." She sneered at the mascot-clock like it offended her personally.

"I'd bet." Nick floated over to Mr. Monkey's head. "During the Christmas time, working my part-time job at the strip mall was hell on earth and that was just for thirty-one or so days. I can't even begin to imagine working at a place with what is essentially a monkey-themed cuckoo clock."

"The day it fell, the mechanism stopped due to the impact. The display for the actual clock is mechanical, not digital. You should be able to check."

Maya tentatively walked to Mr. Monkey's head and looked in his mouth. The card display showed the time it broke was two-fifteen pm.

"It couldn't be moved until the crane operator showed up at four, though I requested the company some time around three, which can be verified if you call the number in the security office." She seemed almost smug. Maya couldn't dispute the evidence she had been shown, just wrote down the time and other info Dee Vasquez gave her.

"Thank you for your time, Vasquez-san. Sorry for bothering you."

Dee Vasquez just nodded curtly and walked off, the smell of cloves the only sign she has been there in the first place. Maya leaned against Mr. Monkey's head and sighed.

"That's a bit of a dead end, isn't it?" Nick wondered aloud. "If the main pathway was blocked off between two-fifteen and four, that does provide a relatively tight alibi for anyone in Studio Two at the time. But that doesn't mean they couldn't have moved about. Rich people protect their own. Vasquez and Manella make Global a ton of cash and it's not like you can't use the woods to get around without being noticed but..."

"Can you imagine someone like Dee Vasquez walking through the woods in heels?" Maya sniped.

Nick chuckled, "No that's fair."

"It's put us back where we were when we started this mess." She felt like she was melting. All the stress from talking to Dee Vasquez and Sal Manella and Oldbag was turning her into a paste. "Blugh."

"Not...necessarily." Maya glanced up at Nick, watching as he floated cross-legged in the air, thinking. "We could see if Oldbag caught Cody. Or if her chasing him made her more willing to talk, anyway."

"Is a more talkative Oldbag a good thing though?" She tried to not sound upset at the thought.

"It's better than her claiming up because she's mad at you, isn't it? She's already proven that her loyalty isn't absolute and she's highly opinionated. Do what you do best!"

"Argue?"

Nick's smile widened. "Be annoying." —— "If I...die from this...I'm going to...haunt that little...whippersnapper." Oldbag was wheezing, her chest rising and falling heavily while she tried to catch her breath. Judging by the lack of Cody nearby and how furrowed her brow was, Maya could reasonably assume she didn't actually catch him. "I...swear..."

"Do you need me to get you a water or anything?" Maya didn't even need to fake her concern. The way the older woman was breathing, how sallow she looked, how much she was sweating, it was genuinely worrying. "I can go get you something."

"Don't bother...girlie..." Oldbag waved at her. "I've got...my own refreshments..."

"Are you sure?"

"Besides...I'll live." She grinned, a vicious thing, and stood upright again. "I have a...hostage after all..."

"Hostage?" Nick squinted at Oldbag. "What does that even mean?"

"No luck then?" Maya asked, trying to keep her tone conversational. Oldbag leveled a dry stare her way and she quickly doubled back. "Fine, fine. I get it. But a hostage?"

"Before that little...whippersnapper...got away one last...time...I snagged something...off of him." Oh. She managed to probably take one of his things. Maybe...

"Do you think I could have that 'hostage'?" Maya tried to sound oh-so-innocent. She probably just came off as saccharine and fake but it didn't matter. The ploy was just that: a ploy. "Maybe I can convince C— the kid to leave with it."

If she noticed Maya's slip up, Oldbag didn't acknowledge it. She just squinted at her like she was trying to suss out what her intentions were. "Why should...I?"

"I mean, I've already talked to him once."

"Yeah, and he kicked you in the shins and screamed about stranger danger," Nick reminded her.

"What...will you...give me?" No free meals, huh? It's all about give and take, isn't it? "What could you...even have...that I would...want?" Her breathing was evening out, even if she still sounded winded.

"What is it you desire, Oldbag?"

"You sound like a villain tempting a side character in some fantasy movie." Nick's dry remark did nothing to dissuade her train of thought.

The old woman thought about it. Her brow furrowed, lips puckered, and then everything smoothed over as she seemed to come to some kind of conclusion. "They won't let...me see where he died. You're spiritual...aren't you girlie?" Maya nodded. "I want to...pay my respects. Set things...right. I liked him best...after all..."

"You don't have a keycard to Studio One?"

Oldbag frowned and shook her head. "My territory is...the Lounge, the gate, and this booth. They give...me spare keys for things...but the keycards are...different."

"That explains why she had the Studio Two key but not a keycard for Studio One then, huh?"

Maya pulled the keycard she borrowed from the dressing room from her sash. "This was Powers-san's keycard. He lent it to me while I was investigating. Would that work?"

Oldbag stared at the keycard then at Maya. "Why are you...doing this?"

"Huh?"

"I wasn't born...yesterday, girlie. Nothing...is ever out of the...goodness of someone's heart. ...Why? Surely not...just for my hostage..."

Why was she doing this? She could easily not even bother with the 'hostage' Oldbag had. She didn't need it, after all. And she didn't have to offer to get Oldbag water or be concerned about her health but she did and she was.

"I mean, because I am sorry, like I said." Maya shrugged, unsure of how to explain her reasoning. "Originally my plan to apologize was to make you some of my Aunt Kimiko's gionbō because it's a pretty good wagashi and it felt like the right way to make up for making you a scapegoat but...I dunno. It feels inadequate now, considering. You like Jack Hammer's films and so do I. Why not help you out just for that reason? And like you said: I'm a spiritualist. I understand the need to mourn and grieve." She offered the keycard again. "I don't need your 'hostage'; not really. Just take it."

Oldbag tentatively took the keycard, her gaze not leaving Maya's face the whole time. She treated the piece of plastic like it was something holy and precious. It made something in Maya's chest wrench weirdly. "Thank you."

Maya gave Oldbag a soft smile. "No worries."

The world stilled, the air thick and heavy but not quite like it was in Studio Two. It felt peaceful, like the moment before someone cries or during a scene where cherry blossoms flutter about, a picture-perfect screensaver. Then Oldbag spoke up again, her tone much less sharp. "I don't like owing...people. Here."

Maya took what was shoved into her face. It was a Steel Samurai trading card—judging by what info a quick glance gave her, an Ultra Rare one at that—and it probably was Oldbag's 'hostage'. Poor Cody.

"And as for the...wagashi...I haven't had...gionbō in forever."

Maya grinned at her. "I haven't made it in forever so I hope it's good."

"So long as it's edible." With that, Oldbag left the security office, quiet and somewhat sad.

Maya didn't know how to feel. Thankfully Nick had enough of an opinion for them both. "She sure just...wanted to say goodbye didn't she?"

"She's been here longer than anyone else, right? She probably has seen dozens of her coworkers come and go. Jack Hammer was important to her."

"You're way nicer than I would've been, considering."

Maybe. "I can understand the desire." The altar in the office, the altar at home. Incense and offerings. Two photos as apologies for not being there. "But man, poor Cody. A UR? That's a bad card to lose."

"A what?" Nick wrinkled his nose. "I don't speak nerd."

"UR. Ultra-Rare." She waved the card at him, the high-gloss picture of the Pearl Priestess in an action pose, the wide sweep of her robes mimicking the crescent moon. "Cards have limited print runs and the more rare they are, the less likely you to find them when you buy boxes and boosters. Ultra-Rare are the step above Rare but right below Super-Super-Rare or SSR. They're the second most difficult card to find."

"Nerd."

Maya just rolled her eyes. "Look, I just—"

"Maya!" Walking down from the Studio Two pathway, Penny waved at her with a bright smile on her face. "Hey!"

"Didn't expect to see you out and about!" Maya called back. She went to meet her halfway, unable to contain her happiness. "Did you manage to hide from Oldbag the whole time?"

Penny grimaced. "Yeah, thankfully. She gave up chasing the kid after a bit and knowing she was at the security booth meant I could circumvent talking to her by taking the back way."

Maya noted the twigs and leaves in her hair. "The woods?"

"The woods." She picked a bit of detritus out of her hair. "But why are you here? Where'd she go? How's the investigation?"

Nick's eyes burned a hole in the back of Maya's neck, a reminder to be careful. She would, but the reminder helped. "I had a chat with Vasquez-san and then came here to see if Oldbag had any idea where the kid went. She went to Studio One to pay her respects so..."

"I'll keep away for a bit." Penny nodded so hard her glasses nearly fell off her face.

"She seems more...sad and tired than angry so you shouldn't be too cautious." Maya played with the card idly. "As for how it's going, well, uh, it's going!"

Translation: I've hit a dead end and am floundering a bit but I can always bullshit my way through the trial tomorrow.

Penny, however, was too focused on the card to offer her support. "What's that?"

"This?" Maya stopped fiddling with it. "Uh, Oldbag took it from the kid. Called it a 'hostage'. It's a UR full art Pearl Priestess."

"Really?!" Penny shrieked. Maya drew back in surprise and Nick floundered midair. "Oh!! Oh!!! Can I have it? Please?!!"

"It's not...mine though?" Finders keepers was all well and good but not when it comes to trading cards you knew the owner of. Though...if Cody hadn't tried to get it back yet, maybe he had dupes?

"I - I can give you something better! It's just...this is the last card I need before I have the full Lunar Invasion set and I've been pulling dupes for months!" She fumbled in her vest pocket and pulled out a card box.

"Does every trading card game dork just keep a deck on their person?" Nick wondered aloud as she thumbed through the cards in their protective sleeves.

"Ayakashi, ayakashi, Pyrite Phantom, Evil Magistrate...ah!" She pulled out one card and showed it to Maya. It was a holographic SSR Mutant Moon Rabbit Matron, her large body surrounded by her shadowy brood, the sky behind her set with shimmering stars. It was a full art card too. "Will this work?"

Maya's mouth went dry. "This is—"

"Maya. Maya, Maya, Maya," Penny's eyes were intense and hungry, dead serious, "I have two of these. Please let me have that card in exchange for this one."

"O...kay?" They swapped cards and Penny let out a giggling shriek of happiness.

"Oh finally! Now I can wait for the next set. My paychecks are saved!"

"How much money do you spend on cards anyway?" Nick, ever the ignorant fool about the wonders of TCGs, seemed almost horrified by the implication that her paycheck was dedicated to buying packs and boosters.

"Now maybe you can eat good food instead of asking that I send you pictures," Maya teased. She still wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do but...Cody would appreciate the upgrade at least.

"Maybe." Penny put away the cards and shook her hands in excitement. "Anyway, uh, sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Not much." To be fair, Penny's excitement actually was useful. Maya didn't have much to say about her progress. "Though, uh, I met Sal Manella."

Penny winced. "Yeah?"

"I gave him my business card and told him if he wants to use my village's cultural garb and identifiers of our faith that I would be willing to negotiate with him and Global Studios." She felt more than a little proud of that, even if was mostly Nick feeding her info because she was too flustered to think.

"Oh?"

"The Pink Princess, warrior of Little Olde Tokyo, apparently. Some kind of spinoff." Maya rolled her eyes.

"Was the...did it look good?" Penny, like Maya, was skeptical of the idea.

"Unfortunately, yeah. It looked really good. It's why I offered that negotiation." Maya tried to look more sure of herself than she actually was. "The design, the colors, the power system—or what I could read—all looked really solid."

"Man." Penny sounded about as frustrated as Maya felt. "Can't wait for that, I guess."

"Yeah, me neither." If the studio was around after this. She didn't want to bring down the mood. "Anyway I gotta go find the kid. Any idea where he might be?"

"Probably the Employee Lounge again. It's the grate by the wall out of here, Oldbag is in Studio One, and nobody goes to Studio Two if they can help it."

"I can understand why."

"Besides, that's where Vasquez and Sal tend to hang out so..." She trailed off.

"Even more of a reason." Maya sighed. "I'll send you pictures when I start making the gionbō. Do you want some? I can't guarantee it'll be any good but—"

Penny grabbed Maya's hands, clasping them between them, her eyes suddenly intense behind her round glasses. "Maya, like I said before: nobody would turn down a wagashi."

A bubbling snort of laughter escaped Maya and she leaned her forehead against their clasped hands. "Okay, but you're getting the rejects."

"I can't wait." Penny let go and they went their separate ways—her to man the front gate and Maya and Nick towards the Employee Lounge.

"She's nice." Maya glanced at Nick. "What?! Am I not allowed to have an opinion?!"

"No, you are." It was just funny that his approval felt nice. The fact that her first friend liked her newest friend felt...it made her happy. "I just didn't know I needed your seal of approval to hang out with people."

Nick's grin widened. "If I don't like your friends, I'll haunt them. Don't tempt me!"

"Can you even haunt like a real ghost?" It was a genuine question. Maya had never seen him interact with objects or do anything other than float through the world, intangible and invisible to everyone but her.

"Do you doubt my poltergeist abilities?" Maya silently challenged him with her flat stare. He chuckled and struck a very silly pose. "Foolish Maya, for unbeknownst to you, I am actually the great and powerful ruler of the afterlife!"

"The Founder?" He deflated as she said that. She just burst into laughter. He was too easy to tease sometimes. It reminded her of Mia.

"You're mean. But really...I'm glad you found a friend closer to your age. Penny is nice."

"Well my other friends are a dead guy and a man twice my age who works for the devil, so I think my friends are decidedly weird anyway. But you're all nice. That's a common thread."

Nick spun about in the air until he was floating in front of Maya's face and poked his finger through her forehead. It was cold. "Take the compliment, dork."

"Says the great and powerful ruler of the afterlife." He didn't relent. "Fine, fine...thanks." Satisfied, he landed feet-first on the ground and walked alongside her.

"You think Cody will talk to you if you bribe him?"

"Never underestimate the power of an SSR holo." Maya grinned. "I'll bet you a bowl at Eldoon's that the second I flash this big boy, he'll spill his guts."

"I can't eat but I'll take that bet anyway!" Nick laughed, skipping a bit as he walked. "But I bet he gets one more good attack on your shins before you can even explain."

"You're on." —— For a kid who could barely draw his weapon, Cody Hackins sure was good at slamming his little Steel Samurai trainers into her shins. Maya fought back a wave of pain that threatened to make her cry and also hurl to reach inside of her jacket pocket. "Cody—"

"Didn't I already say I wasn't going to hang around you? Stranger. Danger. Back off!" Because Maya was between him and the vent, he couldn't leave but he was putting up one hell of a fight.

Maya managed to pull the card out, her hands shaking. "Oldbag took something from you!"

"The old security lady?" Cody wrinkled his nose. "Yeah? So what? I got like two more. She got lucky."

"I traded up." She spun the card so he could see the art. "And its yours if you just talk. On my honor as a fan of the Steel Samurai." Also if you could just stop bruising my knees so my friend stops laughing at me, that would also be nice.

Cody froze, his eyes wide. She could see him calculating risk, weighing it against how badly he wanted the card. "I can have that?"

"It's an SSR holographic Mutant Moon Rabbit Matron. Full art." She tilted the card so it flashed in the light. "It's yours in exchange for just a conversation. Nothing else." And, to prove her point, Maya held out her pinkie.

He stared at her extended pinkie like it was something offensive. "What are you, four? Nobody does pinkie promises anymore." But he wasn't running or kicking her and he'd abandoned his attempts at drawing his sword.

"Maybe I'm old fashioned."

"Yeah, I mean, look at how you're dressed." Nick snorted. Maya bit down on her irritation and did her best to keep her expression placid so she wouldn't scare Cody off. "Anyway, how'd you get that? Those don't come easy."

"My friend who works here had a duplicate. She wanted the card Oldbag took because she didn't have it yet and figured this was a good trade. Since it was yours to begin with, I wasn't going to keep it. Even if you don't answer me, the card is yours."

"Maya?" Nick didn't seem to know what she was doing and neither did Cody. The give and take of information for the card made sense to him, apparently, but the moment she said that the card was his regardless, he was unsure of the deal as a whole.

Which was exactly what she wanted, of course.

Admittedly, she wasn't lying. Regardless of if he gave her any useful information or not, she was going to give him the card. It wasn't hers to trade and so, to the owner go the spoils or whatever. But by verbally saying that, she removed any reason for him to be cagey with what he knew. No reason to lie if there's no strings attached.

"Why?"

"Like I said earlier: I wanted to talk to you. I think you saw something that day that can help the Steel Samurai." She knelt down so she was eye-level with him. "I just want to talk and then I'll leave."

He put up a show of thinking about it but it was obvious he was going to accept the second he didn't run away. "Fine. Give it here and then we'll talk." So she did.

"Alright Cody, you ready?" He sneered at her but she just smiled back. "Were you here the day of the incident?"

"When was that? You're being vague."

"A couple of days ago, about when the Studio stopped letting people inside." She didn't want to be direct but his attitude made things difficult. "When the Evil Magistrate was defeated."

Suddenly Cody's mood changed. He curled up a little, his face forcibly falling, expression going blank as if he wanted to hide something. "Yeah I was around that day. I try to come by on days they're doing film shoots, even though the old security lady yells at me. She can't ever catch me though, so I'm always fine."

"I can understand why they were worried about some kind of lawsuit if kids are sneaking in during action run-throughs." Nick frowned.

Maya just continued, "Yeah? You really like the Steel Samurai then, don't you?"

"Are you blind? Can't you see how much I like the Steel Samurai?! I go to every live show and watch every episode and I know this place like the back of my hand!" Cody puffed his chest out, his hand going to a camera around his neck.

"Yeah? Aside from the Steel Samurai, who's your favorite?" Maya grinned at him, trying to leverage his desire to brag about his favorite show to get information out of him.

Cody chewed on his lip, flicking the flash switch on his camera on and off as he thought. "I mean, all the heroes are so cool but I really like the Mutant Moon Rabbits. They're so cu— cool. They're super cool!" His cheeks flushed as he corrected himself.

Nick shook his head. "Little boys."

"Yeah? I think the fact that the Moon Rabbit Kingdom is so advanced and yet they're separate from the ayakashi and the humans on earth is cool. Also the way that the Steel Samurai was able to resolve that conflict bloodlessly by just talking to the Mutant Moon Rabbit Matron means that it's one of the few neutral third parties in the entire show."

"What about the Dinosaur Dynasty?" Cody argued. "They're not allied with either the Evil Magistrate or the Steel Samurai!"

"But they're ayakashi hybrids from the distant past. That means that, even if they choose neutrality, they're technically classified as ayakashi."

"Your mom is technically classified as an ayakashi." Cody grumbled under his breath. Nick hooted in laughter and even Maya cracked a smile.

One point in her favor. She'd managed to get him to loosen up. "I'll concede the point for now, alright?"

"You're just scared you'll lose!"

Ahh, the bravado of a small child. "If that's what you think." As he squawked indignantly, Maya quickly pivoted her question. "So you go to every live show? That sounds fun. I haven't been able to so I'm a little jealous."

Cody puffed his chest out and smirked. "Yeah. My mom takes me and I always get a picture of the finishing blow. It goes in my album!"

"Oh really?"

He turned to the side and rummaged through his fanny pack, pulling out a small photo album. Written on the cover in puffy paint were the words 'Path to Glory' with a small doodle of the Steel Samurai in the corner. "See?" He opened the album and showed Maya photo after photo after photo. They were obviously taken by a child, out of focus or blurry, with each one better than the last. Every single one was of a Steel Samurai managing to land the final epic blow on his enemy.

It was a genuinely cool thing for this kid to have. Maya was actually jealous.

"That's really cool! Is that the live show where the Pyrite Phantom was controlled by the Evil Magistrate?" She pointed to one where the Steel Samurai was attacking an ayakashi shaped like a tick with a glowing yellow gem in the center of its chest.

"Yep! After they discovered she was being manipulated by the Magistrate, they sought out the ayakashi he was using to do that and beat it up! It was so cool!"

Maya nodded. "Yeah it's really cool." If Nick noticed that she sounded a little bitter, he didn't comment on it.

Cody suddenly got quiet, looking at the book in his hands. "Hey, uh, Miss Maya?"

"You can just call me Maya," she offered.

"Maya?" He continued to stare at the book and fidget. "Do you...want to keep this?"

"Huh?" Genuinely, huh? Why was he doing this? "Isn't this your Path to Glory? I wouldn't want to take it from you—"

"Well, you're being really nice, right? And you've never been to the live shows and you're helping the Steel Samurai, which makes you a good guy and all, and then the card so—" He trailed off, fidgeting some more. "I wanna be fair."

"All I asked for was information. The card was yours anyway."

He shoved the book at her. "It's not like I don't have copies. Some of them are digital photos, y'know?" He held up his camera. "So I can always make a new one. Think of it like, I dunno, proof of our rivalry or whatever."

That got a laugh out of her. "Rivalry?" She snorted.

"Yeah! For number one Steel Samurai fan! Coz - coz you're smart and know a lot but I know a lot too so we're rivals, right?" Cody looked up at her, his entire face pinched in conflicted pride. "So take this one and I'll make a new one and next time we meet on the battlefield I'll have more photos and you'll maybe add some of your own and—"

"Thanks Cody." Maya didn't know what else to say. It was...oddly touching that this little kid—this kid about Pearl's age—wanted to be her friend in his own weird little way. It reminded her a little bit of herself.

"No problem!" He fiddled with the flash on his camera sheepishly. "So what else?"

"You mean questions?"

"Yeah, you got any more?"

Did she? Was she willing to push now that she had some kind of tentative friendship with this kid? Was she going to ask him questions that might land him on the witness stand?

Could she handle it if he actually had to give testimony?

"Maya?" Nick leaned forward into her field of vision.

"Yeah, I have a couple more." She didn't want to put him in a compromising position but she had to respond to his earnestness. He'd been willing to play along this far, hadn't he? Even if Cody didn't know she was trying to learn about Jack Hammer's death, he'd been honest and she had to honor that. "That day...what did you see?"

Cody stiffened again, his face falling. He didn't want to answer. He looked terrified, even. She didn't want to make him answer but—

"You're not in trouble." That caught his attention. "If your testimony - if what you saw is important enough, you might need to tell that to the judge in court, which might be scary, but you won't be alone. Your mom will be in the gallery, I'll be in the courtroom asking you questions, and I won't let anyone hurt you. We're rivals, aren't we?"

"Huh?"

"If you're my rival, then nobody can beat you but me, like the Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate. Nobody can make you cry but me. So I'll make sure nobody does. Isn't that right?" It was a simplistic way of handling it but—

"Right." Cody was a seven year old boy. Rivalry—friendship or whatever it was—was a simple bond. He was her rival and she was his, even if this wasn't the exact context of their quote-unquote 'rivalry'.

He trusted her that much at least.

"Man, you've got a way with kids don't you? What a cringeworthy declaration!" Said the great and powerful ruler of the afterlife to the lawyer rival of a seven year old fanboy. Hypocrites, the both of them.

"Alright then. What did you see? That's my last question, okay?"

Cody took a deep breath, then exhaled. "Okay, so I was coming to see the filming, right?" Maya nodded, quietly taking notes as he spoke. "I got here around two, I think? But I got lost because I wanted to avoid the old security lady so I wasn't taking the main path. The woods are kinda maze-y and stuff so I, uh, lost track of where I was." He took a second to rock back and forth, organizing his thoughts. He fiddled with his camera's flash, looking down at it.

"If he was here at two, then does that mean he wasn't here for the run-through but the actual filming practice?"

Maya subtly nodded at Nick. Cody probably was, which means Mr. Monkey was active. His recollection of the time was likely accurate due to the clock's 'ooking'.

"I was wandering and I saw the Steel Samurai through the trees so I thought I was maybe where I was going. And then..." His face pinched and he stopped talking.

"Cody?" Maya was using the voice she reserved for when Pearl was having a bad day. It was soft, low, and even. Soothing. "Cody, it's okay if—"

"No! You said—" He cut himself off. "I said I'd answer so I will. Wouldn't be fair if I didn't make things even and all. I'd be the bad guy then, wouldn't I?"

"I mean," Maya smiled, playing off his energy, "I give you permission to back out now, if you want."

That just made him frown at her. Bullseye. All of his worry was gone and he was just determined. He wasn't scared anymore. "So I saw the Steel Samurai and I went to leave the woods but he was holding his Samurai Spear and - and he was standing over someone. He'd killed the bad guy, just like always!"

Oh.

"Oh Cody." Even Nick could tell that he was trying to rationalize what he saw, making it into some kind of fictional event.

Still... "Cody, you said 'bad guy' but do you know who—"

"It was the Evil Magistrate, wasn't it? They always fight and - and my mom said she saw it on the news and—" Whatever bravado Cody had summoned was gone. He was just a scared little kid and Maya wasn't going to push him any further.

"Thanks for telling me that, Cody." Maya went back to using her gentle voice. "This will help me help the Steel Samurai. I promise."

"You sure about that, pal?"

The way Cody leapt, like a startled stray cat, would have been comical if he hadn't been admitting to witnessing a murder just moments before. All the goodwill that Maya had managed to build, all the de-escalation, all of that was gone in seconds and Cody was back to struggling with his replica sword while he backed up towards the vent.

"Gumshoe!" Maya glared at him, pinning the detective with as much disdain as she could muster. "Do you mind?"

"No can do, pal, sorry." And he did genuinely look sorry. Even the distance he gave Cody was indicative of how aware he was of the effect his presence and size had on how people perceived him. "If this kid saw that, we have an obligation to bring him in and get him on stand, don't we?"

Cody's terrified and furious eyes flicked to Maya, looking for some kind of answer. She sighed.

"He's right, Maya. At least you promised that only you'd be making him cry, right?" What Nick said wasn't as helpful as he probably thought it was.

"Remember how I said that, if what you said was important enough, you might have to tell a judge?" Cody nodded, still wary and struggling with his sword. "Well, for all Gumshoe might have scared you just then, his job is to make sure you're safe while you do that. First we have to call your mom to get permission and let her know you're okay. Do you know her number?" Cody nodded again. "Do you want to call her yourself or tell Gumshoe here so one of the police can call her?"

"I'll tell the big guy," Cody grumbled, "but he better not do anything weird or I'll scream!"

Maya snickered. "Forgo the sword and just go for his shins."

"Hey!" Gumshoe took the joke for what it was, all his grumbling sheer bravado. As Cody approached him, he knelt down and pulled a pad of paper out from a pocket in his jacket, taking the pencil off his ear. "Alright, what's her number?"

While Cody gave Gumshoe his mom's phone number, Maya just focused on her breathing. Cody wasn't alone. His mom would be there. She would be there. He wouldn't be on trial for murder. He just was going to talk about a murder. It's fine. Not even Prosecutor Edgeworth would be so callous as to—

As if he read her mind, Nick shook his head and smiled sadly at her. "Edgeworth won't hurt the kid. Promise." It's not like she had proof but—

Cody quickly ran over to Maya once he was done, keeping his focus on Gumshoe so he couldn't sneak up on them. "Okay, what now?"

"Now, we—"

"I wasn't asking you!" Gumshoe looked crestfallen. Poor guy.

"He's just doing his job, Cody. C'mon now." Maya rolled her eyes but, really, she couldn't blame the kid. "But for now, we wait until your mom shows up. Then?" She nodded at Gumshoe to continue.

"Then the two of you will come with me to the precinct to talk to Prosecutor Edgeworth. We'll discuss what we need, what you need, and what is and isn't okay. That way you're safe, pal." From the way he spoke to the way he kept far away from Cody, Maya could surmise this wasn't the first time he'd dealt with a child as a witness.

She swallowed her nausea. "Yep. That."

Cody frowned. "And I'll go to court to talk to the judge?"

"That'll be tomorrow, assuming your mom says it's okay." Maya knelt down again so they were on the same level. "But until she shows up, do you want me to hang out with you?"

"Hang out?"

"Then I can go?" Maya stood up again but Cody grabbed onto her jacket.

"No! Wait!" She shot him a sly smile as he continued. "Yeah, we can hang out. That way the big guy over there doesn't try anything. You're my meat shield!"

Gumshoe looked comically crestfallen. All Maya could do was laugh. Poor Gumshoe was made out to be the villain again.

"Be nice. He had to deal with the security lady today."

Cody winced. "Sorry big guy. That sucks."

"Yeah, understatement of the century." Nick snorted gently as Gumshoe rubbed the back of his head.

"No worry, pal. I know I'm intimidatin' so I'm not too bothered by it."

Cody got a thoughtful look on his face. "This guy's just like the Steel Samurai, isn't he? A hero of justice who's big and scary but actually protects people?"

Maya bit down on her real opinion and just nodded. "Gumshoe is my friend, actually. Even though he works for someone else, he always tries to help me." She gave the man a warm smile. "I'm so grateful that he's around."

"Then I guess I don't mind him." What an easily handled kid.

Neither Maya nor Nick knew how long it was going to take for Cody's mom to arrive. As it was, they just had to kill time, so Maya decided to try and appeal to Cody's nature as a huge fan of Steel Samurai, since he was already getting antsy.

"So, I asked you your favorite aside from the Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate, but I never told you my favorite." He immediately perked up, all his energy focused on her. Good. Maya smiled at him. "My favorite is the Damascus Daimyo."

Cody drew back in disgust. "What?! Why him? He's a villain!"

"Well, I mean, it's my opinion isn't it?" She was teasing him, keeping him engaged. "And I like the Damascus Daimyo for a lot of reasons but mostly because of his personality. He's sneaky."

Cody nodded.

"He pretends so hard that he's a good guy. He says he's doing the right thing no matter what. He even actually helps the Steel Samurai oppose the ayakashi from time to time, but it's all a ruse. Beneath all his smiles and kind words and such, is a ruthless villain who just wants to undermine the whole of Neo Olde Tokyo so that the Evil Magistrate can take over it easier."

"Well, yeah, but he's not that cool, is he?"

"Like I said: I like him because he's sneaky. He's about as strong as the Steel Samurai, but he's alone so he knows that if he tries to attack them head on, he'll be overwhelmed with numbers. So he watched and waited and learned, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike."

"Didn't he get found out though? Right around the same time the Lunar Invasion Arc was going on?" Cody was frowning, though all of his previous tension was gone.

"Yeah he did." It had been her favorite moment, really, because it set him up as a much more formidable foe than before. "He scuttled away but he knows their weaknesses now. And even if he pretends to be a good guy, the real good guys know. Nobody will be fooled again, so he has to strike fast. Especially since he has the sacred armor of the Samurai Household."

"Right, but doesn't that mean the Daimyo has to be related to the Steel Samurai?" Cody wondered aloud. "Or did he steal it so the Steel Samurai couldn't use it to power up?"

"Well I think he's related to the Steel Samurai but he's been twisted and warped by the Evil Magistrate to hate the family he thought abandoned him for being weak." Maya shrugged. "But that's all fanfiction territory so I'm just waiting for the next time he shows up." Not that it would happen now, with one major star dead and the other on trial for his murder.

But it was nice while it lasted, wasn't it?

[redrabbitspod]

READ OUR INTERVIEW WITH ROLLING STONE HERE:

(full, designed article. But if you don’t want to follow a magazine layout, read the transcript. Art by @bloodydamnit)

TRANSCRIPT BELOW THE CUT

Red Rabbits: The Rolling Stone Interview

Featuring Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten, and the Red Rabbits Team

By Angie Rodner

On a chilly Monday, Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard are standing side by side, looking at something on Andrew’s phone in our New York, Rolling Stone headquarters. The rest of the Red Rabbits team, consisting of Dan Wilds, Seth Gordon, Renee Walker, Robin Cross, Allison Reynolds, and pro Exy legend/honorable mention Matt Boyd, orbit around them. It's an interesting scene to take in, to say the least. No matter what they seem to be talking about, they all defer to the two hosts without any of them seeming to acknowledge it. 

I was lucky enough to sit down with all eight of them, and I’m not ashamed to say I’m a fan of the podcast and I’ve followed since Season 1. The story of Andrew and Neil (formerly known as Nathaniel Wesnisnki, the son of the Nathan Wesninski or the Butcher of Baltimore), and the revelation of their connection they’d shared as kids, was better than any true crime podcast I’d ever listened to. 

Now, the team takes on what they’ve dubbed ‘The Case of the Newark 9’ for their second season. It’s a case based around the hunt for a man known only as ‘Steven’, who they believe is responsible for a series of kidnappings and murders of young girls in and around the Newark area. They’re joined by Robin Cross, a victim and survivor of Steven’s, who is helping them investigate the case. 

I sat down with Robin and the other women of Red Rabbits first. 

What’s it been like to work on this podcast together? Was it strange to go from looking for Neil, to having him in the studio, to watching him and Andrew form the relationship they have?

Dan: It was strange, because in all honesty, it wasn’t strange. Does that make sense? None of us knew about the meeting they had as kids, but when Andrew finally told us, everything made a lot more sense. Really, they belong together. It was much weirder when they first got back and hadn’t acknowledged what was between them yet. We were all just kinda like... are y’all not seeing what we’re seeing?

Renee: They got there eventually.

How have things changed from Season 1 to Season 2? The cases are obviously different, but they still involve missing children. What’s the atmosphere like around the studio?

Dan: Tense.

Allison: I’m not even there that often and I can still feel it.

Robin: It is tense, but there’s also a sense of urgency. We know ‘Steven’ has another girl now, so it’s like every day that goes by is another day he has her... Another day we either find him, or we don’t.  

Mm... I can’t imagine how difficult that is. However, with that being said, the NYPD have made it pretty clear that they aren’t buying what you guys are selling. How does that make you feel?

Robin: I don’t feel anything about the NYPD. My anger is better placed elsewhere. I am angry. But the police didn’t listen to me when I was a kid and trying to tell them important information. Why would they listen to me now?

Renee: I think we all try and take our cues from Robin. Andrew and Neil are very careful to include her and get her opinion on certain things before moving forward. We’re not letting this thing with the NYPD deter us. 

Speaking of Robin then, what’s it like for you to have her on the team? As one of Steven’s victims that is, there with you in the studio?

Robin: Oh no. Say nice things about me.

Dan: Girl. [ laughs ] Honestly, she’s amazing. She’s my little sister and I’m not just saying that. I think we all kind of feel that way. I’ve never known a person as strong and determined as she is and I know - see she’s blushing! [ laughs again ]- I know she hates it when we talk about her like this, but it’s so true. She’s family now.

Renee: She is, and I think she brings a really unique perspective to the case. We have someone here who’s directly involved, who lived through it and can give us some idea of what the other girls went through. I think most people would really love to have that kind of resource during an investigation.

Allison: For sure. She’s even my muse for my fall line. Everything is going to be deep colors and fun modesty.

Seems like you’ve been properly inducted into the team, Robin.

Robin: [ smiling ] It feels amazing...

Now, last question. Are you confident you’ll find what you’re looking for?

All as one: Yes.

Speaking with the ladies was fun. They were easy and connected and you can tell that there was a real sisterhood in the studio that day. It was refreshing to see women supporting and helping each other thrive in such a competitive industry. There was a lot of laughter between them, and it was such a joy to be able to share it with them. 

-

My next interviewees were Seth Gordon, ‘resident TFN sound engineer/IT guy/anything to do with technology’, as he tells it, and New York Lynxes starting backliner, Matt Boyd. When I tell you I laughed throughout this entire interview, I’m being completely sincere. There was something about the way the two bounced off each other that had me smiling and understanding why they are both so well-liked. 

You guys are best friends aren’t you? I feel a bromance in this Chilli’s tonight.

Seth: Bet. Matt Boyd is my homie and BFFL. Do people still say that? Anyway, we have matching necklaces and everything.

Do you really?

Matt: No, not really, but I’d totally wear one if he gave it to me.

[ laughing ] Matt, how did you even end up here? I know you were friends with Neil, but I feel like the details on that are kind of murky.

Matt: I hit him with my truck. [ My jaw dropped ] No, really! I hit him with my truck in Midtown Manhattan when I was driving home. He refused to go to the hospital so I brought him back to my place to make sure he was okay. He didn’t leave after that.

Seth: Because you held him hostage? That’s the way I hear it.

Matt: Oh yeah, for sure. He takes up so little space, why not? [ laughs again ] No really, I did convince him to stay, but I just felt like he needed a friend. He was obviously running from something and he was scared. I just didn’t know from what or why at the time.

And when you found out?

Matt: Honestly? I just about shit myself, but it made so much sense. All the little questions I asked myself early on, finally had answers. 

I saw the interview you and Dan did with Essence. You guys look amazing together.

Seth: They are amazing together. It’s gross. 

Matt: Yeah, and you and Dion aren’t constantly fawning all over each other.

Is that Dion hovering nearby?

Seth: Yep, that’s my man. He’s amazing and fuckin’ fine as hell. Can I say fuck in this interview?

Sure.

Seth: He’s fuckin’ fine.

Seth, what’s it been like for you, putting together the shows? There’s been a lot of audio that’s hard for us as listeners to hear, and I’m sure there’s more we haven’t even heard. 

Seth: There is.

What’s that like for you to have to go through it all?

Seth: Really hard sometimes. There was some stuff in Season 1 we didn’t air that seriously gave me nightmares. It’s worth it, though. We found Neil and I think we’ll find Steven.

Are both of you confident in that fact?

Seth: Positive.

Matt: I think if anyone can find him, it’s Andrew and Neil. They’re determined and they’ll keep looking no matter what.

I believe them. 

Andrew and Neil were my last interview of the day, and a more determined pair I think I’ve ever met. 

Here’s the thing readers: They’re connected. It might make me a poor journalist, but I don’t know how else to explain it. At one point during the interview, Neil reached over to squeeze Andrew’s arm. At another point, Andrew reached over to squeeze the back of Neil’s neck. They were obviously a comfort to and for each other, and it almost seemed like they borrowed strength. It was intense and being able to witness it has been one of my favorite moments in my career.

So, let’s talk about this season before we get into everything else. You’re looking for a man you believe to be responsible for the disappearances of multiple girls in the Newark area. Do you feel like you’re any closer to solving the mystery than you were at the beginning?

Neil: Absolutely. We’ve gotten some really great tips and we think we’ve narrowed some things down. We don’t want to get too deep into what we’ve got at the moment, because we’re still investigating. But we’re confident in what we have.

What’s it been like working with Robin? I was able to interview her earlier, and she’s really something.

Andrew: She’s been the best resource we have. She’s incredibly strong and unbelievably quick. She’s taken this terrible thing that happened to her and turned it into fire, and it’s been amazing to watch. Most of the information we have comes from her.

The interview you guys did with her was absolutely chilling. I cried three times listening to it. How do you handle hearing these things? I feel like it’d be really hard not to take it home with you.

Neil: Yeah. It’s hard sometimes.

Andrew, I want to touch on the interview Riko Moriyama just did with Kathy Ferdinand and your response. What was that like for you, hearing Riko wrongfully expose something like that on live television?

Andrew: It was… I was stunned, I guess. That information was supposed to be sealed. My name was redacted. So I have no idea how he even got details of the case.

You’ve talked before about being in the foster care system. It sounds like you had a pretty rocky childhood.

Andrew: Yes.

Neil, I know yours was no picnic either. Do you think that this kind of... shared trauma, I guess, is part of why you two work so well together?

Neil: Yeah, partly. When we met as kids, I think a bond was cemented. We both knew how horrible adults could be to children. But now that we’re older, I think more than a shared trauma, it’s a mutual respect for that trauma. We both have shit, you know? I told Matt this one time and I didn’t really understand how true it was until recently, but we both have baggage that we share. We take each other’s on to lighten the load for the other. But, there are times when it gets really fucking heavy, and I think recently we’ve figured out that it’s better to lean on each other when that happens, instead of trying to carry it all ourselves.

Why do you think Riko felt the need to call you two out like he did? I know he mentioned Neil possibly being manipulated into the relationship.

Neil: [laughs]

Andrew: I wish I could manipulate him into having better taste in music.

Neil: My taste in music is fine. 

Andrew: It is absolutely not. And I don’t know why Riko feels the need to comment. I’d be interested to hear the reason. The things he said regarding Neil were ridiculous, and in his response, Neil has made sure to make that known. But the thing that really bothered me was his comments on mental health. He tried to basically call me unstable for seeking therapy and admitting that there came a point when I needed outside help. There are literally hundreds of thousands of people in this country who seek out therapy every year. There’s no shame in it and I’m unsure as to why Riko believes there is. Honestly, I’m shocked the Moriyamas haven’t released a statement. He’s their mouthpiece, after all.

Do you think they should apologize?

Neil: Yes.

Andrew: I think they should at least clarify. I’ve already heard people are planning to protest their new documentary and I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to give my money to people who think I’m less of a person because I struggle sometimes.

Speaking of struggle, let’s move back to the case. I know the NYPD has been giving you grief over your claims that the person you’re looking for is the same person that’s taken Haylie Clark. Robin, especially, seems completely certain. How does it feel to know law enforcement doesn’t have your back on this?

Andrew: Familiar. They’ve never had my back before, so why would they start now?

Neil: I’ve dealt with too many crooked cops to really take it seriously. I have no idea what their motivations are and to be clear, I’m not saying I think they’re crooked - I’m just saying that in my experience, the help doesn’t always come like it’s supposed to.

The rest of the team seems pretty confident in you two. They all said they absolutely believe you’ll be able to find him. Is it hard sometimes, not to lose faith?

Andrew: It’s hard all the time. But it doesn’t matter. We have to keep moving forward. We aren’t going to stop until he and Haylie are found. 

I think that’s really commendable and I look forward to seeing that happen. Now, tell me a bit about the team. Neil, since you came in at the end of Season 1, how did you find the dynamic as an outsider?

Neil: I didn’t really understand it in the beginning. Not really. It helped having Matt at my back for months prior, but I’ve never had the opportunity to make solid connections with people. So when I came into the studio, to this group of people who had known each other since college, it was overwhelming. 

Andrew: That’s funny, seeing as how they like you better than me.

Neil: It’s all the charm and charisma. 

[ laughing ] And now? You all seem really tight knit.

Neil: Now, yeah. We are. These people are my family.

Andrew?

Andrew: Yes?

Neil: She wants you to say something nice about the team.

Andrew: Every single one of them knows my coffee order, and it’s truly amazing that they can do what the interns cannot. [ he looks over at Neil, who’s tilting his head and raising his brows ] Oh, don’t look at me like that. Fine. We have a really strong team. I wouldn’t be able to do what I’m doing without them. Seth works harder than anyone I know, Dan keeps us all in line with just a look, Renee is the only reason I agreed to do this in the first place, Reynolds has a lot of money and she’s not afraid to use it for a cause she believes in, and Robin is the most inspiring person I’ve ever met.

And Matt?

Andrew: Who?

Neil: The guy that kept me alive for months while you were hunting me.

Andrew: [ rolls his eyes and shrugs ] He’s fine.

-

My take away from the interviews was this: these people will do whatever they need, in order to find their perpetrator. They believe in their cause, they hurt for these girls, and they’ll find justice for them in the end. They’re family, that much is clear, and I can’t wait to see how this ends. I can’t wait to say that I was there when it’s over.

Red Rabbits can be heard on iTunes, Spotify, Stitcher, and GooglePlay. You can follow the website at redrabbitspod.tumblr.com and twitter @redrabbitspod.

And as the Red Rabbits team always says, “Keep Searching”. I know I will.

[mars-ipan]

school me in a l l o f t h e m I dare you

homie that would be. far too many. so i’ll give you the two i currently really wanna talk about, starting with the one i’d get less hate over probably

Narumitsu/Wrightworth- Ace Attorney series

i mean. this one. this one’s easy as hell. let’s start from the beginning. pheonix wright, 3rd grader, is accused of stealing the lunch money of miles edgeworth, aspiring lawyer and fellow 3rd grader. the class is awful to pheonix, saying that he stole the money without proving it in a mock trial. it gets to the point where even the teacher is telling him to apologize. this poor child is sobbing, trying to explain that he didn’t do it. suddenly, an objection. surprise bitches it’s the victim, miles edgeworth. “blah blah you can’t say he did it without any proof blah blah he shouldn’t have to apologize”. the class apologizes and pheonix is acquitted. this marks the start of their friendship. not too long after (a couple of years, at most?) miles’ dad and role model is murdered in a horrible incident (this is responsible for edgeworth’s fear of earthquakes which sucks since he lives in japanifornia). miles is now under the care of manfred von karma, abusive german asshole prosecutor who can die in a hole. this is where miles stops talking to pheonix (moving away to germany can do that) and decides to be a prosecutor with his newfound hatred of crime. skip to college. pheonix is in a horrible abusive relationship, the poor baby barely avoided death and was immediately accused of murder. guess who’s prosecuting this trial? miles mcfrickin edgeworth. and pheonix thinks “hold on. i know him!!! oh my god what happened????” after he is, once again, acquitted, pheonix makes the stupidest desicion in his life: to become a defense attorney. he stops going to art school and starts going to law school, just so he can meet this dude again and ask him what the hell happened to him. because if the stubborn asshole wouldn’t respond to his letters, he’d have to meet him in court eventually anyways. so pheonix becomes a lawyer. he’s... surprisingly good at it. then a case with edgeworth. and he wins!! super well!!! once again!! edgeworth is likely just “oh my god what the fuck???” idk tho since we play as pheonix, dumbass extroardinaire. anyways, in either this case or a later one (i do not remember) edgeworth comes up to pheonix after losing and essentially tells him “you’re making me feel things and i don’t like feeling things so get out of my court” (i mean literally. “saddled with unnecessary feelings, like unease and uncertainty” like bITCH??? YOU LOVE HIM D U H). and then edgeworth is accused of murder. pheonix immediately is at the detention center going “bitch let me defend you or so help me god.” miles, ever the confusing fuck, is just “no. not happening, absolutely not.” (there’s also a line where edgeworth goes “i... didn’t want you to see me like this” and in the remastered version pheonix deadass thinks “trust me, i didn’t want to see you like this, either” like b IT CH.) anyways a quick earthquake happens and once everyone’s settled, pheonix realizes he can’t see miles through the glass anymore. he stands up to look through the room and bam there’s edgeworth, on the floor trembling. this poor man. anyways pheonix is just “well i’m gonna defend u even if u don’t want me to so i’m gonna start investigating” and he does that and talks to edgeworth’s lovely detective pal, gumshoe, who explains edgeworth’s fear of earthquakes and also that after he lost his first trial against pheonix edgeworth was literally just saying “wright, wright, wright” and pacing u h m?? anyways eventually pheonix finds out that the case is related to the dl-6 incident, which is the one where edgeworth’s father dies. he goes back to the detention center and edgeworth’s all “well that’s what i didn’t want you to find out but now you know so sure defend me what the hell but you’re gonna lose” bc guess who’s prosecuting??? v o n k ar m a. anyways pheonix wins the trial, gets von karma convicted for murdering edgeworth’s father also bc dl6 was never actually solved and it’s funky fresh. edgeworth is all “i don’t know what to say,,,,” so maya, pheonix’s lovely assistant in the original trilogy, is all “try t h a n k yo u”

other moments where they are Not Heterosexual include:

all of oldbag. edgey i am so fucking sorry you had to deal with her ass. i mean yeah everyone would have that reaction but edgeworth IS a snacc, he likely goes through this all the time. no girlfriend though. rampant homosexual

i mean seriously who wears a cravat all the time other than a gay and/or a vampire

“they’re rivals!” “maybe for now we are..”

“that man” “that defense attorney” “him”- miles edgeworth, all the time

5 red knights surrounding 1 blue pawn on edgeworth’s custom chessboard

there was a jewelry line made for the game. pheonix and edgeworth both have rings. they are the only ones with rings.

and that’s only the original trilogy babey!!! there’s plenty more in the future games but i unfortunately don’t know anything past apollo justice so ah well

2. Mavin/Team Nice Dynamite- Achievement Hunter

okay first of all this is a real people fandom so i’m gonna start with a disclaimer. A. i ship them casually, B. they (and their partners) are perfectly okay with it and joke about it all the time, C. they are in a committed bromance and i will not pester them in any way. thank you. this will also be in list form as there is less of a narritive to follow :>

okay so. these fucking nerds. met on valentine’s day. they tweet @ each other on valentine’s day saying shit like “happy anniversary” i can not make this up.

they refer to each other as “boi” and “my boi” all the time. michael’s twitter bio deadass says “[wife] is my girl, gavin is my boi”

just. just watch play pals

they got married in minecraft once. it was domestic and cute afterwards.

angry boy (michael) is simultaneously Soft with and Angrier with stupid brit (gavin)

“i will,,,, have sex with you,,, consensually.” -michael jones, drunk off his ass

*gavin appears on tv in a bar* “everyone look!! it’s my boy!!! that’s my boy!!!” *applause from the entire bar*-michael jones, once again drunk off his ass

almost the entire office lowkey ships it

michael gets jealous. all the time. he has mentioned a time when gavin referred to his other best friend as “his boi” and while recalling the anecdote, michael basically said “and i was like *growl*” like. damn ok

matching necklaces

michael is the best at translating gav’s britishisms and gavinisms

“my wife is dead,,,, my husband is dead”- michael jones, in a hardcore minecraft server where he is the sole survivor

they casually lay all over each other and invade each others’ personal space all the time

they joke about gavin being the bottom in literally every fic with them. gav’s only complaints with the fic are that he’s the bottom.

i think the reason they don’t have gavin do an episode of red dragon inn is because michael would be far too powerful. maybe one day tho. hopefully

michael’s own wife is just out here all “hell yeah dude fuckin go with it” (we love lindsay jones in this household)

“just kiss and get it over with”

“micool,,”- gavin free, Squeaky Brit

“sucked michael’s dick last night: gavin free”- credit on the podcast

the “are you wearing my jacket” “yeah, i guess i am” “stop! ,,,take my clothes off,,” line comes from them

just. look in the tag for mavin. you’ll see what i’m talking about.

their dynamic is very similar to @an-ok-dude and i’s actually. except. ours is less angry and squeaky. kinda

alright kids that’s it for now. this post is getting long and being on mobile means i can’t put it under a read more so i’m gonna stop here :>

bls tho check these tags there’s so much good content

[dreamscript]

File #666

“So let me get this straight, Yoongi: you’re saying that this thing is the reason why your friends were found hanging from the ceiling fan? That this was the thing that nearly killed them?”

Yoongi’s convinced a double suicide attempt is actually a murder, and you’re busy stalking a comatose student’s blog.

request - 666: for continue file #666 from welcome to ff.net ; badpasta gone cereal.

horror triggers apply.

5.5k words, horror/thriller, yoongi + reader, college/cop au.

You tug the thick manila folder from the stack of files. File #666, marked as “resolved.” You take it from the storage and back to your cubicle. Ruminate over the case a bit. In a strange, twisted way, it’s funny: for months, members of the department had been making bets and dark-humored jokes about what the six hundredth and sixth case would be. Would it be bizarre? Or something more commonplace?

When case #665 turned out to be the kidnapping of twenty-six schoolchildren and gained international attention, speculations for case #666 grew exponentially. A mass murder. A mysterious outbreak. Or maybe someone would actually manage to summon Satan.

And yet, after all the debates and guesses, case #666 turned out to be a double suicide attempt. It’s uncommon—of course, but it was underwhelming compared to all the expectations it had garnered. You lay the folder on your desk before taking a seat. Two college students. Roommates. Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. You review their profiles, just to make sure that nothing’s been changed.

Nothing has, as expected.

According to the case file, one of them was a blogger—Jimin, you think—and a link to the blog is hastily scribbled on the bottom corner of the folder:

mochi-min. university . blog . com

Dutifully, you type the URL into your browser.

The notes in the folder say that nothing of importance was found on the website; it was simply a loose, carefree, lifestyle blog. The last few entries talked about gaming—but the psychologist’s notes say that the “sudden recession” into “nostalgic times” and the “gaming world” suggest the two stressed students were simply “trying to find an escape from reality.”

And eventually, the two boys realized that the ultimate escape was Death itself, not a digital world of fantasy. So, together, they tied each other’s nooses and hung themselves from their ceiling fan.

Or so the story goes.

You think back to your talk with Yoongi earlier, the way his voice was cracked with desperation, determined to prove the facts wrong. The webpage finally loads.

The minimalistic layout is aesthetic, functional, and the sidebar contains a sunny biography of the blogger:

Jimin. University, ‘19. I love giving advice and writing about my day!!! Dance is my passion and graphic design is my major. Hmu ! ig: @mochi-minz15 sc: @pjm995

Underneath the block of text is a small photo of Jimin. You study his face, compare it to the shots in his file. Yeah—that’s him.

You quickly skim over a few posts, not exactly lingering on a particular one, before sorting them based on chronological order, oldest to newest. Twenty-four entries total. Not bad. You’d been expecting more.

First post!!

“

Hey! I’m Jimin. As an up-and-coming college sophomore, I thought I’d start up this lifestyle blog to provide advice and other college-y things for my younger followers (or at least those who were as anxious and curious about the whole college thing as I was).

School doesn’t begin until next week, but um, here’s this post anyways. I guess I’ll see y’all laters!

”

0 comments

“You’re still on that case?”

Heejun’s voice startles you. Talk about meddling co-workers—seriously. You swear that he and Sehun are the nosiest and biggest gossipers you’ll ever meet.

“Huh–wha–yeah, duh,” you say, turning around to face him. He’s got a mildly amused look on his face, one arm resting casually on your cubicle.

“Didn’t we all conclude it was just a double suicide attempt by two stressed college students?”

“No, you guys did,” you say, turning back to the blog. You’ve still got twenty-three more entries to read. “I wasn’t even assigned to the case, so I never got a say in the manner.”

“So why now?” Heejun shifts his posture. “Why all this sudden interest? And why don’t you think it’s a suicide attempt?”

You turn back to him; it feels a bit awkward talking at a computer. “I was contacted by their best friend, you see. And, funny thing is, their best friend is actually my–oh, what is it? My sister’s cousin-in-law?” Heejun raises his brows skeptically. “Well anyways, we knew each other - kind of - and he insisted that Jimin and Taehyung’s case wasn’t just a suicide.’”

“Then what is it? An almost-successful double murder attempt?” He shoots you a look and you shrug, knowing that a double murder attempt on a college campus is significantly less likely—and plausible—than a double suicide attempt. Heejun crosses his arms.

“I mean, I guess, since besides suicide, there’s no other plausible reason as to why they were both found hanging from the ceiling fan… Thank god Yoongi–that’s their best friend’s name by the way–found them when he did, and the paramedics came when they did, because otherwise those boys would’ve been goners.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be too sure about that. They’re both unresponsive and in critical care. They might be still be goners after all.”

“Have some sensitivity,” you say, and chuck a book at him. He smirks as he straightens up, carefully running a hand through his perfect hair. Prick.

“But seriously, why is that Yoon–Yoonji, was it?–guy so adamant about it being a sort of murder attempt? I can see why the murderer would try to hang them, you know, as a way to fool others into thinking it was a suicide, but what’s the motive? And this was done in a college dorm. Did no one hear any shouting? The walls are pretty thin. The room didn’t seem to show any signs of a struggle, which is weird because this is two full grown men we’re talking about. Not little grade schoolers who will follow you around anywhere ‘long as you got KitKats.”

“KitKats are good,” you say defensively. “But yeah no—that’s what I don’t get either. Who’d want to kill two average, not-rich-but-not-poor college students? What’s there to gain? A higher ranking? A slightly quieter dorm? Was someone jealous that the two of them managed to score a suite? I don’t get it, and Yoongi didn’t have many ideas either, but he vehemently insisted that Jimin and Taehyung would never do that, and that they did not seem to exhibit any signs of depression.”

“And, despite the lack of evidence to back up the claims other than pure intuition, you believed him and are currently studying the case right now.”

“…Yes.”

“On your own free time.”

“…Yes.”

“Please tell me that at least that Yonghi guy or whatever is helping you.”

“Yoongi was actually planning on starting his own investigation, if I hadn’t agreed. So, yes.”

Heejun still continues to look at you judgmentally, so you turn away.

“Well,” he says. “Suit yourself. Don’t forget: we got another briefing at 1.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

//

Friend opened a new shop !

“

So have any of you guys heard of Etsy? I actually didn’t know what it was until one of my friends opened up this like… shop on it. Or at least that’s how he describes it.

Anyways, I went on the website and it looks pretty cool. Kinda like a hipster E-bay and super (SUPER) artsy. My friend asked me to do a promo for him on here, so here it is:

https:/ /www .etsy .com/shop/JoonDaily

He likes to design his clothes and is practically a fashion snob in that respect, but his stuff (I hate to admit it) actually looks really nice… So y’all should go check it out!

”

3 comments

NamsgotJamz commented: Thanks for the shout-out, man. You’re a real     homie.

Guest commented: hey guys this rly worx i just made $89./hr part     time thanks to this check it out —> bit.ly/work@homescam

Pink_mario commented: what the fuck you never told me you were doing     promos, hit me up too. I’ll give you cookies.

The web page buffers for a while before the “no connection” sign comes up. You sigh, tuck your phone back into your pocket. The speeding subway car careens through the tunnel, heading towards Yoongi’s dorm. You check the time—5:06. You’re running a bit late, no thanks to Heejun.

“...the next stop is…”

You get up.

//

“So?” you say. “Come up with any new ideas?”

Yoongi shrugs. He’s still moody as ever—but now there’s this unsettling darkness about him. Determination. Vengeance. Everything brewing just beneath the surface of his pale skin, his lips thinned into a harsh line.

“I visited their dorm yesterday,” he says.

“Oh? How?”

“Got a key.” He flashes it at you before pocketing it. “Tae used to forget his all the time, so I ended up with a copy. Got it illegally replicated, but that’s beside the point.”

“Not sure if you were supposed to tell that to a cop, but okay.”

He gives you a wry smile. “But right now I consider you my partner in crime.”

You shrug. “Sure.”

“Anyways,” he says, brushing past you and towards the door. “I think that, before I say anything, you should go take a look, too. I saw some pretty… interesting things in there.”

Your chest constricts.

//

What I do in my Downtime

“

A few of you guys have been asking about what I do in my freetime/downtime—especially since I keep on telling you all that I have so much more of it now that I’m in college.

Well, most of the time I just sit in my dorm and blog, or I’ll go and hang out with my friends. Or I’ll hit the gym.

Recently, though, I’ve been getting kinda nostalgic for the old days—like, the way old days—so I’ve been kinda playing a few childhood games like Smash and Mario Kart. I actually just downloaded this PC version of Pokemon Emerald from, quite frankly, a sketchy website. I don’t think I got any viruses or anything, though. Hopefully.

So. Anyways. I really encourage people to join clubs—I’m part of a few myself—because they give you a community, and they’re always doing fun stuff so you’re never bored. Don’t be like me, though. Actually attend the meetings and get involved. I mean, I do attend some and such, but like… it’s a lot better to be really involved in one club. That’s when things get super fun, because then you really connect with everyone over that one interest….

In the meantime, you can catch me catching ‘em all…. In Pokemon Emerald (I haven’t started it yet, been kinda busy. But I’ll begin it next week and maybe post about my progress on here?)!

”

2 comments

Guest commented: COME TO THE NEXT MODEL UN MEETING, SLACKER!!!     We’ll kick you from the next conference otherwise >:(

jungl3-c00kie5 commented: wow college sounds lik so much fun. lmao nxt yr     vs me in smash ill shcool u also how much can you benchpress jw

//

“Just before we go in,” you say, “I just wanted to let you know that I brought their file with me.”

Yoongi nods wordlessly and pushes the door open. “Okay.”

“And according to the file, Taehyung was genderfluid.”

“And?” The door squeaks open. Just as the files say, there appear to be no signs of a struggle; it’s disorderly, yes, but nothing seems to be… violently tossed about. No blood on the walls, or scuffs in the paint.

“He was struggling with his sexual identity and appeared to be having trouble coming to terms both with himself and his parents.”

Yoongi looks annoyed. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but he—he was making it, okay? He was doing well, and we were working on it, and he was slowly just getting his parents to understand.”

“And do you know if he ran into any...problems shortly before his suicide? His parents didn’t tell the cops anything of the sort—but maybe you know?”

“No,” he says bluntly. “I don’t know, but I doubt there wasn’t much of anything. Not when he had so much to live for.”

He leads you into their living room. There are no bodies, but the sense of horror is still in the room, lingering by the ceiling fan. Silently. You and Yoongi both know it and wordlessly move onto their shared bedroom.

“Yoongi,” you say, softly. His back faces you. “I know this might sound a bit… rude but… are you sure you aren’t in… denial?”

He flinches. His fists clench. You steel yourself. And then his fists unclench, and he takes a deep breath.

“Think what you want.”

You chew your bottom lip.

“Come on,” he says, jerking his chin over towards a desk. “I need to show you something.”

He heads over to a laptop, which sits open and blank. It’s been turned off. Yoongi slowly, deliberately pushes it aside, revealing a gray-black skid mark along the cream-colored wall.

“Here,” he says, pointing at the mark. “I was sent over here to help collect the valuables and have them shipped back to their families.”

You nod. “And so what’s so special about this mark?”

“It’s a long story, but in short, I’m 90% sure it’s from the laptop, which means that Jimin—that’s whose desk this is—must’ve like, pushed or thrown this thing against this wall to create such a mark. And like, he’s Jimin. He treasures his computer a lot. Hardly lets anyone touch it and is such a neat freak—like, look. He wipes his keyboard and screen daily. Not a speck of dust. Well, now there is, but before there wouldn’t be.”

Yoongi takes in a deep breath and you urge him to continue. “So he must’ve like, saw something or heard something frightening while on his computer… But I don’t know what. It must’ve been really scary, though.”

“Maybe he was watching horror movies? And this mark could’ve been there before either of them even moved into the apartment. Or it may have appeared during moving. How are you so sure?”

Yoongi shakes his head, slightly frustrated. “Jimin’s a wuss. He wouldn’t do that. And even if he did, he wouldn’t like, throw his computer. One time Jungkook pulled a scare prank on him, and all he did was scream at the screen and back away. This—it’s almost like….” Yoongi shakes his head. “It’s almost like he sensed danger from the computer itself.”

He pauses and meets your skeptical gaze. “Oookay. But that still doesn’t explain how you know that it came from the laptop, and was pretty recent.”

He shrugs. “I’ve done tests. I’ll submit them to you later.”

You narrow your eyes. “Sure, I’ll take a look at them.” You lean in, study the skid mark. Straighten up. “Okay,” you say. “So let’s just go along with this theory you’ve got here. Jimin sees something on his screen, sense his computer is a dangerous object, gets scared, throws and-or pushes it against the wall out of fright. What did he see? And what happens after that? Something crawls from the screen and hangs both him and his roommate?”

Yoongi sighs and deflates slightly. “It sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

You say nothing.

“Hey, you know,” he says. “You said you brought the files, right? Mind if I take a look at them?”

“You’re technically not allowed to,” you reply. “But if it helps us both, then I don’t mind sharing information. You just need to ask for it specifically.”

“Fair enough.”

//

“He had a blog?”

“You know, for someone who claims to be his best friend, I’m very surprised to know that you didn’t know he had one,” you say. “I mean, so many of his other friends did.”

“I mean like, I did, but I thought it was just some kind of hipster-fluffy-animals Tumblr kind of blog, not like, a legit blog!” Yoongi sounds astounded. “Damn.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Hold up,” he says. “Let me—lemme check this out. How many entries have you read up to?”

“There’s only twenty-four. I’ve read through most of them. Want to look at the rest together? The ones at the beginning didn’t really say much at all.’

“Okay.”

He chuckles at the screen as it loads, comments how the layout is “so Jimin.” He visits the Etsy link, blanches, exits. Most of posts are, just as the file says, carefree and loose.

My new Addiction

“

Oh god, I think I’m addicted to Pokemon now. I’ve only just started Emerald and already I’ve got like, 10 hours on the game. Fuck. Thankfully midterms are over but still…

(I even got my roommate hooked LOL)

Anyways, since we’ve already played this game before, my roomie and I are having a race to see who can beat it the fastest. Loser has to do chores for a week and make food. I’ve invested so much money in repellant it’s ridiculous… but hopefully I’ll be able to make it to the Elite Four like, tomorrow. Maybe.

Oh—almost forgot. I don’t know, maybe it’s because it’s a PC version and such, but this copy of the game has got some really cool (and slightly creepy) mods. And glitches. Like some of the music gets played backwards—especially Lavender Town’s. Man, that is creepy as fuck, lol. And what’s really cool, though, is that some of the people you fight against will have more than 6 pokemon. Like, there was this dude who had 10 magikarps LMFAO.

For any of you guys wanting to play this version (some of you have asked me for the download link and I’ll post that later) just know that sometimes Pokemon in your party will get swapped out/go missing… so always make sure to save!

”

2 comments

tea-HYUNG commented: wtf investing in repellant is such a good idea     THANKS FOR THE IDEA MAN NOW GET READY FOR AN ASS WHOOPING TOMORROW BC     GUESS WHOSE GOING TO BEAT HTE ELITE 4 B4 YOU?!!! Thaats rite me ho

jungl3-c00kie5 commented: lul kek

After that, the entries stop. There are no other updates after that date… And, with a twisting feeling in your gut, you note the post was made the day right before his death.

Yoongi knows it too, as his breathing stills for a second and he backs away slightly. “This—this is going to sound kind of crazy,” he says. “But do you think… the game… had anything to do with their deaths?”

“You think this is the thing that Jimin saw?”

“I—I don’t know!”

“It’s literally a rip-off Pokemon game. How… Would this kill them? In any way? And it’s two of them, mind you. Plus, to hang them…” You shake your head. “None of this is making sense. I’m sorry.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare at the ground.

“That brings me to another point, Yoongi.” He doesn’t respond, still lost in thought. You gently prod him on the shoulder.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?” He looks away but this time you know he’s listening.

You take in a breath. “How did you know to go to their place at half-past midnight?”

//

Jimin groans and cracks his neck, flexes his fingers, knocks back a Coke. The taste is getting a bit overly sweet and the fizz is practically gone from sitting out so long, but he drinks it anyway. Outside, the insistent pitter-patter of rainfall threatens to lull him to sleep but he resists, shifting his position. He’s finally made it to the Elite Four, and there’s no way he’s calling it quits now. Not when he’s so close, and when he knows that Taehyung’s also hard at work playing in the living room.

Ah, rivalry. Jimin tips back his near-empty Coke can, tosses it towards the trash can. He misses. Shrugs. He’ll clean that up later—right now, he’s got to focus on beating the game. His PC finally manages to load up the scene, and, unsurprisingly the music is backwards. He rolls his eyes and turns his volume way down; it’s past midnight and he’s really not in the mood for creepy glitches right now.

The battle begins. The first of the Elite Four sends out her Pokemon and the sound it makes is uncharacteristically loud—especially with his volume turned down so low—and strangely, vaguely reminds him of a twisted cry.

It’s hard, no doubt. His Pokemon are pitifully underleveled—a downside to avoiding all possible confrontation and rushing through the game—and he’s only got a few potions and full revives on hand.

“Come on,” Jimin says under his breath. “I need that critical hit—gimme that critical hit, you can do it, I believ—YES!” He jumps up in his seat, ecstatic.

When he gets to Lance, however, Jimin is more than irked. First of all, Lance isn’t supposed to be in this game; the Dragon-type specialist is supposed to be Drake. However, that’s not what’s bothering him—what’s really pissing him off is the fact that all six of the Pokemon in his party have been replaced with unknowns. His annoyance increases when he realizes the unknowns spell out “UR DEAD.”

Seriously? What kind of sick joke was this? This was probably one of those dumb glitches or mods—only this time it came at one of the worst times. He’s practically blanching at the thought of having to restart and fight the other Elites all over again—especially since the main reason why he’s made it so far is purely by chance. And an immense amount of luck.

“Of course I’m dead now,” Jimin hisses at the screen. “All I’ve got are unknowns! You can’t expect me to go into this fight and win, especially since I don’t have Rayquaza with me now…” He glowers angrily at the Pokemon.

Internally, Jimin fights a raging battle. To restart or not to restart? He chews the inside of his cheek.

“Fuck it, ‘m goin’ in.”

He’s probably going to have to restart the game anyway, so he may as well give it a go. Maybe he’ll luck out.

The battle begins, and the music changes.

Lance sends out his first Pokemon—except, to his pure, unadulterated horror, Jimin sees himself and Taehyung. Bloodied and lifeless. The sound the thing unleashes is eerily akin to screams of terror, shrieks of pain. A violent shudder runs down his spine and, throat dry and heart pounding, he shoves his laptop away from himself.

It makes a loud thump against the wall; the screen flickers. Jimin stands up, staring wide-eyed at the screen. When it flickers back again, the image of him and Taehyung is no longer there. In its place is Lance’s signature Dragonite. No blood, no shrieking noises. Just an orange, big-eyed dragon. Jimin blinks, slowly. Was he—was he imagining things?

In the next room he can hear Taehyung curse out loud. He’s fine. It’s okay. He was just seeing things; sleep deprivation does that to you. He knows—he read it in a psych textbook once. Shakily, Jimin sits back down in his chair, carefully drags his laptop towards him.

It’s just a game, he tells himself. And it’s in his computer. Like, what’s it going to do to him? Flash the Blue Screen of Death? He laughs nervously. It’s fine, he’ll be fine, he just needs to finish the game… And then he can go over and gloat to Taehyung and they can laugh about all the dumb glitches. Yeah—that’s right. That’s what’s going to happen.

\\

Thirty minutes later, Jimin stretches back in his seat, a happy—albeit tired—grin on his face. The final Pokemon screeches in defeat before disappearing into the ground. He’s finally beaten the Elite Four—somehow.

With a jump in his step, he triumphantly skips—and almost trips over various objects—to the living room, where he knows Taehyung will be sitting on the couch, PC in his lap, still furiously battling the Elite Four. He’s practically giddy with the thought of getting to see the defeated, disbelieving look on his roommate’s face.

Jimin sucks in a deep breath, grasps the handle, and throws the door open.

“Hey Tae? Guess wha—oh...fuck.”

He stares, horrified, at the shadowy, limp, very Taehyung-shaped body that swings ominously from the ceiling fan.

And then when he feels the foreign touch of fingers—no, those are bones, he realizes—on his shoulder and the brush of a skull against his cheek, he knows that he’s next.

The rough squeeze of the noose and the sudden up-and-down drop from the ceiling fan cut off his screams before they can begin.

Darkness is all that’s left.

//

Yoongi’s silent for a moment. And then, quietly, without moving to catch your eye, “What does the file say?”

You flip it open. “It says that you were going to sleep at their place after coming back from a party. Both because of the proximity and to allow your own roommate some… privacy.”

You look up at him, raise a brow. “But was that all it? The timing is almost impeccable. The coroner said they’d only been strangled for a minute or two before you’d found them. Granted, the nooses weren’t the best, but still.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I mean, yeah, I was planning to crash at theirs after my roomie told me he was going to take some girl home, but I also felt this thing deep down telling me that something was really, really wrong. Call it a sixth sense or intuition or what—I just really felt a need to check on them.” He pauses, takes in a deep breath. “It sounds suspicious, I know. But just to be clear, I have an alibi.”

You nod. “I know. Otherwise I wouldn’t be so willing to help you.”

He swallows, then gestures at Jimin’s computer. “Um, so, about that game he was playing… He never got around to posting the download link, but I happen to know the password to his computer…”

“You’re planning to play that game?” You put a hand on your hip. “How do you know it’s still on there?”

“I don’t, but it won’t hurt to check.”

“So let me get this straight, Yoongi: you’re saying that this thing is the reason why your friends were found hanging from the ceiling fan? That this was the thing that nearly killed them?” You gesture at the computer.

He shrugs. “I mean, what else do we have?”

“That’s true, but…”

“All that’s left is to play and see. What’s there to lose?” Yoongi shakes the mouse and boots up the PC.

You roll your eyes. Whatever. “Who knows?”

//

Three hours later, and the two of you have yet to encounter any of the glitches that Jimin reported.

“That’s weird,” you say. “Could it be possible he may have been exaggerating them a bit…?”

Yoongi reaches back and scratches his head. “I don’t think so… But at the same time I can’t come up with any other reasonable explanation as to how this is so different…”

You shrug. “I don’t know—maybe giving all that suspense attracted more blog viewers. People do strange things to attract more views, you know. Just saying.”

Yoongi seems reluctant and lost. “Maybe there was something wrong with the wiring that would explain some of the sounds…” He continues to mutter to himself, checking the sides of the PC before picking it up entirely. “But how does the ethernet wire affect the speakers? Maybe I can take it over to the Geek Squad at Best Buy or something…”

You sigh, check the time. “It’s getting late, Yoongi. I’m sorry, but I think I need to go. If you want, we could schedule another meeting next week? I’ll see if I can pull any more information from the servers.”

He nods absentmindedly. “Same place, same time? Wait, no actually, can we do it a bit later? Like, is 7 okay? I know it’s going to be dark and all but…”

“Sure.”

//

The final Pokémon faints, fades away, before the triumphant, happy music comes in. You yawn, stretch back in the chair. Behind you, with his legs crossed and elbows propped on the armrests, Yoongi lounges in his seat, thinking.

“So I guess that confirms it.”

You blink at him. “Confirms what? That I suck at Pokemon? It’s not my fault that you’re so crap at levelling them up—the only one above level 20 is your starter! How the hell am I supposed to fight a team of level 25 Pokemon with this mess?”

“No, not that,” Yoongi says. “And by the way, I don’t normally do that. It’s only that way since I was just messing around—wasn’t taking the game all that seriously.”

“Oh.”

“But anyways, back to the point. I was playing this game on and off through the week, sometimes alone, other times with friends and… I noticed that… the glitches only happened when I was alone…” He looks down. “And…”

“And?”

“And at one point… when one of the guys sent out a Pokemon… I could’ve sworn for a second there that... Instead of a Pokemon, it was a picture of me… except, well, bloodied. Brutally.” Yoongi swallows. “But it quickly disappeared right after a friend of mine walked into the room… Everything went normally after that. But um, I’m really really sure I wasn’t imagining it. I think I’m probably going to post on the forums and see if anyone else experiences something similar… I tried searching for stuff and the original file of this game but not only was I unable to find it, but for some reason the file is locked. Encrypted. I can’t get to it without a password, and I have no idea what it could be. Fortunately, I have a few friends who are heavily involved in cyber, so after we finish examining this game, I was planning to call them and have them help me somehow upload the game onto an online download link so we as a community can post about our experiences and stuff. Y’know?”

He fiddles with his fingers. Your eyes narrow.

“Anyways,” he says, “We should probably finish up with this game anyways. You wanna continue playing or...”

When you don’t answer, he prods you on the shoulder. “Hello?”

“As I thought,” you say, “You’re too dangerous.”

He gives you a confused, slightly suspicious look. “What?” You whip your head around, get out of your seat.

“Nevermind that,” you say, and, quickly, before he can attempt anything, shove a cupcake-shaped stress reliever—it had been sitting on the desk—into his mouth and quickly straddle him, holding his wrists together in one hand with a vice-like grip. He makes incoherent noises as he attempts to fight you off.

“It’s too bad, Yoongi,” you say, as you fumble out the length of rope with your free hand. “If you hadn’t been so adamant about it all, we could’ve avoided this fate. But the thing is you didn’t—you continued to meddle and stick your nose into something that you shouldn’t have. And now, unfortunately, you are going to have to be—well, silenced.” His movements are getting more frantic now.

“Min Yoongi,” you continue, as you swiftly—or as quickly as you can manage with one hand—loop together a noose, “a college student overcome with grief upon losing his two closest friends. After countless hours of research that ultimately led to nothing, he succumbed and hung himself in the very room his late friends took their lives in. How unfortunate.”

You gently place the noose around his neck. He fights hard against you, hands desperately trying to pry themselves from your grip. You giggle.

“That’s not going to work, you see. The undead have much greater strength with the benefit of having no muscle to tire out.” As you speak, a beam of moonlight filters in through the window and reveals you for what you really are: the human skin and flesh disappears under the silvery rays, leaving nothing behind but knotted and rotting bones. A skeleton, with no fingerprints to leave behind or heart to feel emotions.

His struggles stop abruptly as fear overtakes his body. You give him a lopsided grin. “Goodbye, Min Yoongi.”

//

Inside the University Hospital, on the fourth floor, two heart monitors beep. Their slow, mechanical sounds echo off of the walls, seeping through the cracks and diffusing in the stale air. The place smells of antiseptic.

The monitors continue to beep. In unison, the spacing between each sound growing longer and longer until finally, there’s one long, unfaltering beep that continues for nearly a minute.

And then there is nothing at all.

a/n: @goldfishh , after reading this: What The Fuck

helloooo i have a chem test in two days that i know nothing about it’s chill. so. many. projects. holy shit. and then exams starting next week fuuuun

anyways if you watched the video this was based off (it’s hilarious--it’s supposed to be a parody of bad creepypastas) then like. maybe the ending was kinda obvious lol

tbh if it was up to me (like if i weren’t trying to base it off the video) then the ending would have been much different. you, for one, would not have turned into a skeleton lmFAO