Bad End Night

Volume 1, Prologue: The First Night

Slam - with the loud sound of [her] opening the door, the merrymaking people within the room slowly turned to face it. One with beer mugs in both hands, redfaced but still drinking; one engaging with their drunken friend; one engrossed in conversation, eyes shining with excitement; one pretending to listen to the prior; one singing, one dancing; and lastly, one quietly tilting their glass.

The youth nearest to the door, who had been relaxing and sipping wine on a three-seater sofa all to himself, noticed her arrival and stood up to greet [her].

"You're late. Well, how about a toast to our first day? We've all already started, you see?"

"..."

[She] stood there silently, saying not a word. The youth thoughtfully filled an empty glass on the table with wine from the bottle, and urged [her] to come in.

"Perfectly expected for the lead role to arrive fashionably late. Here's a drink for you. Come, let's have a toast."

The glass [she] received was full of delicious red wine. [She] faintly gazed into the red liquid wavering in her hand. As [she] silently stood there merely holding the glass, noticing her odd behavior, the rest of the group came to stare in her direction. Their gazes were kind, filled with anticipation and optimism. [She] firmly shut her eyes, resolutely tipped the glass, and gulped down the swaying redness all at once.

"Ahh, here comes our lead role, everyone! Come on over. Why, you down your drinks quick!"

Finding no fault in [her] emptying the glass before the toast, a young man with a drunken red face and a good-natured smile... someone who had the quality about him of being the group's leader, issuing direction to the others.

"Can we get a word from the lead role, too?"

All present turned toward [her] and gathered around.

"...Won't you tell me the truth?"

"The truth...?"

The happy drunken leader smiling at [her] opened his eyes slightly, then blinked two or three times.

"This letter... tells about the truth of this play."

As [she] said this, bringing the letter in her left hand up beside her face, the air in the room froze. Keeping the exact same smiles they'd had moments ago on their faces, everyone in the room stared at [her]. Not changing emotion, not even blinking, just holding their breaths, they remained still and questioned what her next action would be. After a considerable silence, a woman with a mature air about her slowly put her beer mugs down on the table and spoke.

"Tell me, whatever do you mean by... the truth?"

In contrast to the casual nature of her words, the woman's lips stiffened slightly.

"It has to do with us... making this script into a play."

"And? What exactly would this be?"

"...Please, don't play dumb. It's all written in this letter."

[She] suddenly turned left to glance at the white letter she held in her hand.

"Where exactly did you get it?"

"It was left on the stage."

"Well, then... Just what does it say? May I see that for a second?"

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The leader took on a stern look quite unlike before, put down his mug, and slowly approached [her].

"I believe you're familiar with it, so I shouldn't need to show it to you! ...If what this letter says is true, then isn't this production considered "sacrilege" against him?"

"!"

The moment [she] spoke the word "sacrilege," all but she trembled with nervous looks. Seeing this reaction, [she] brought a hand to cover her mouth. Not wanting to look anyone in the eye, [she] slowly averted her gaze and hung her head.

"...So it was true... I feel... so horrible. And why did..."

Several times [she] opened her mouth to ask something, but hesitated mid-sentence, never forming a complete line. Shortly afterward, the leader-like man opened his mouth again.

"...It simply happened this way. Please understand... We -"

"I don't want your excuses! I don't think it's too late yet. Please, you have to announce the truth to the world! If we do it now, it might not be too late. I'm sure... No, I'm certain we can do it over!"

"What are you talking about?! On what basis? The moment we revealed the truth, don't you see it would be the end of us and this troupe?" The mature woman approached [her], face filling with anger.

"Who could've written a letter like that? Must be one of us, right...?"

A boy lounging on a single-seat sofa looked around the room as if conducting a search. But no one confessed. As he opened his mouth to continue the search for the culprit, the mature woman interrupted to continue where she left off.

"That doesn't matter right now. What's important is that we can't allow the truth in that letter to be made public. You understand?"

"...Really, won't you reconsider? We're all friends in this together, aren't we? You're no exception."

"Yeah! If you do something like that, it'll be real bad... Hey, reconsider! Pleeease!"

A girl worriedly looking between [her] and the others speaking spoke with a whine. Tears were faintly welling up in her eyes. The happy party mood was completely gone, and amid savage tension, attacks on [her] flew left and right. It rained terribly outside, and the heavy sound of raindrops echoed. [She] remained silent for a time, staring at the back window.

The storm of words passed, and silence drifted in. Then, making up her mind on something, [she] opened her mouth again.

"Um... Please, listen! This is really... I really mean it, this will be for the good of the troupe. I thought of the perfect way to go about this! But there are reasons why I can't tell you the details yet. But still... It'll definitely work out okay!"

"There can't be any recovering once the world knows about what's in that letter you picked up. All our dreams, all our hopes, gone. It'll be the end of us all..."

"That's not true! Please just believe me... Please!"

The leader, still looking concerned, folded his arms in thought and looked away from [her].

"Weeell, can't you tell us those details or whatnot? I wanna know, y'know, the chances of success."

A woman with a slight intellectual air went to push up her glasses, then blinking as she remembered she wasn't wearing them currently, let her gaze waver around the room to hide her mistake.

"Well, I... I can't do that yet..."

"Yet... So you mean, you'll be able to someday?", the youth pouring wine questioned.

"Just give me some time. Then..."

"Just a little time and you're sure you'll manage, eh?"

"W-Well... I won't know until I try... I need to confirm some things... I can't say it's certain right now, but!"

The intellectual woman twisted her neck. "Uhh..." She looked doubtful of that answer.

"Well then, you can't possibly ask us to believe you without reservation..."

"But I... why..."

[She] hung her head sadly at the mature woman's statement. This time, a woman with an immediate sense of elegance who had been silently watching the others converse sighed, stood up, and glared at [her] with a piercing gaze.

"Why, you ask...? Are you trying to claim you're in the right here? You've seen all that we put into getting this far, haven't you? How badly do you think we've sought this chance? "I can't say anything now, but we can try it again someday" - what a dream. No one would believe such a selfish claim."

"...True. It's unfortunate, but if you can't offer us anything worth trusting, there's no way. We didn't get this far on half-hearted resolve... This isn't a game, you know?"

"...I understand. But I keep telling you, all I can say right now is to believe me!"

"It just figures a girl like you who's hardly struggled in her life doesn't know the meaning of "being cooperative." No experience, ignorant to the true harshness of the world... What a pathetic softy!"

"I... I never meant... It's true, I don't have much of a track record, but I'm doing my best..."

Repeating herself, [she] clutched near her skirt pocket.

"Can't you think it over once more...? Please! There's still..."

"We keep telling you, we're not going to believe anything if all we have is your feelings! You're a real blockhead, aren't you?! Sounds like you just want to abandon us right at the end, hm? Traitor!!"

"...!"

When [she] heard the word "traitor," her large eyes widened further, and she hardened like time had stopped. In the eerie silence, rolling thunder roared, and lightning illuminated the others' stiff, angry faces. [She] closed her eyes to think of something, then slowly opened them back up and continued.

"I understand. Then I'll send this letter to the tabloids."

Sharp glares fixated on [her].

"At first, I thought I could just wait until after all the performances, and present it at the final curtain call. Because I thought that might still be in time. But, no... It's too bad. And I asked you to believe me, but none of you would. I have nothing more to say to you. Thank you for everything. Goodbye!"

[She] quickly turned around and made a break for the door behind her. The others shortly followed after [her], shouting things to make her stop, giving chase. [She] didn't look back, running as fast as she could through the dark, unlit building.

"Wait! Hey, wait!"

"You two, take the east stairs and cover the front and back entrances! The rest of you, split up and search the second floor. Call the others when you find her. The lights are down, so she couldn't have gotten far!"

"Got it!"

"We'll go down!"

With the leader's directions, the chasers scattered. In fleeing, [she] found a door, went inside, and carefully shut it to not make any sound. Holding her breath, [she] again slid her hand down to her pocket, gripping it tightly.

Tap, tap. Someone was walking close to where [she] was hiding.

"...Say, are you there?"

"!"

It was the mature woman's voice. [She] swung the door open and sped down the hall again, going right past the stunned woman.

"Hey! She was up here! The second floor foyer! She's headed for the grand stairs!"

The others, heeding her, could be heard one by one heading toward the grand stairs.

[She] quickly arrived at the hall leading to those stairs, but her escape routes all around were blocked. A wall behind her, the stairs in front - two downstairs, and three and two on her left and right respectively.

"Now... Enough running. We haven't finished talking yet. Let's go backstage."

The leader took a step toward [her].

"Stay away...! I'm serious. Don't come near me!"

The moonlight from the large window in behind made the beautiful gold knife glint, and [she] squinted her eyes from its radiance. The rain had now stopped. [She] thrust out her left arm with the knife, turning to point it at the leader. Gasping echoed through the hall. The leader stared, and his Adam's apple twitched.

Yet... While the young man seemed frightened of her threat, to demonstrate that such a thing wouldn't scare him, he slowly took a step... then another toward [her], closing the distance. His cocky gait was almost predator-like. In sight of this, her hand began to tremble slightly.

The letter in her right hand went fluttering down the stairs. Down below, the boy carefully watching the others in silence snapped it up.

"We've got the letter!"

"I... It's pointless! Disposing of that letter won't change the truth!"

[She] tightened her grip on the knife by putting her empty right hand on it as well. Slowly, [she] turned its sharp point straight toward the girl downstairs. The girl shuddered with fear.

"...!! Wait! Calm down! We can talk this out!"

The leader suddenly broke into a run and lept toward [her]. [She] was too slow to thrust the knife out, and he grabbed it in his large hands.

"Drop the knife!"

"No!"

[She] desperately shook her hands left and right to shake him off. Slowly, the others on the upper floor began to enclose on the two of them.

"Let go! Somebody...! Help!", [she] shouted frantically.

"Ooh, this isn't good. If someone comes by..."

"Come now, just calm down!"

"No! Somebody, HEEELP!"

"It's too dark to see a thing! Please, enough of this dangerous nonsense!"

[She] abruptly gave up resisting. The young man stopped as well. But a moment later, [she] forcefully swung her body left. Unintentionally released from her hand, the knife sliced through his right arm, spewing a parabolic line of fresh blood. His face contorted in pain, and he faltered. [She] shook the young man away -

"YAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The girl down below screamed. [She] turned to her right and looked down, and saw the boy desperately holding to the hand of the girl trying to run up the stairs. [She] put out her right leg to run down the stairs, but a moment later, the young man grabbed both her wrists. With only his unhurt left hand, he tried to again immobilize [her].

The stairs behind, and the young man in front one-handedly holding both her wrists, [she] was completely unable to break free. The two had a tug-of-war, but [she] found herself being slowly brought closer to the young man. The others tensely and carefully approached from behind to provide him assistance.

"Give up... Come with us!"

"No... No!"

"Why?! Let's just talk... Then we'll..."

[She] stared at the young man in front her for a while. Tears began to pour out her eyes again.

"...Who's the real traitor here?! I... I don't want to trust any of you anymore!"

Instantly, his face hardened in a frightened expression. And her hands desperately pulling backward were left with nothing to be pulling back against.

". . . . . . . . ."

His large hand reached toward [her]. Four more hands reached from behind.

[She] thrust her hands, still holding the knife, out toward him. But [she] came just short of slicing anything but empty space.

The brief moment of her falling down the stairs seemed to play out in slow motion, and everyone froze as they watched, as if being eternally subjected to a scene from an everlasting nightmare. [She] lay face-up, unmoving, at the base of the grand stairs, the light gone from her now-blank eyes. Plunged deep in her chest was the golden knife [she] wouldn't let go of to the very end.

Applause echoed through the silent hall. The first scene of a truly tragic performance.