It was weird being back in the Kujou Mansion after everything, Yashiki thought as he walked through the halls. It had been a few days since the showdown with Mary. He had been taking the time to rest up and go through his memories. The halls of the mansion seemed even emptier than they were before, when it was just him and Saya. He supposes it’s because he got to used to having other mark bearers there. Now it’s just him, his family dead and buried, and the rest of the mark bearers out living their lives.
He’s almost jealous, in a way. They get to go back to how life was before the mark, but for him… Mary took everything. Despite that, he still misses her. It’s probably just the loneliness, but he knows he can’t be blaming that for all his problems. It’s not fair to the others either, he told them to leave, after all. Glancing around, his eyes lock on the dusty picture of him and Saya, two kids with no worries of the future. Laying in his old room almost felt surreal too. He had chosen to stay in this room while he had amnesia. Yashiki Kujou. He’s knows that his real name is Masamune, but he has yet to reclaim it. It’s too weird for him. Masamune seemed to be an entirely different person, dying a week ago with the vanishing of his memories.
Masamune Kujou. The name still sounds weird to him, even now. Masamune wasn’t the best person in the world. As weird as it was to talk about himself in the third person, he had no other way to describe it. He had been a terrible older brother to Saya, neglectful during their adolescence and then making her believe he was dead for a short amount of time- though Yashiki wasn’t all that great himself. To be fair, though, Saya had already been dead when he got here. A shiver ran through him as he thought about the scene he had walked into, all those days ago. He buried himself further into the bedding. Mary, despite her beautifully crafted exterior, really had been a monster. A true wolf in sheep’s clothing.
A soft ringing of the doorbell drags himself out of his musings. “Someone’s here?” Yashiki rasps, sitting up. His voice sounded terrible, after days of disuse. The only person who had visited him during the days after the mark incident, as he dubbed it, was Banshee. Yashiki was pretty sure he looked like shit when the homeless man came to check up on him, but Banshee hadn’t seemed to notice. Probably not any of the mark bearers, though Yashiki tosses the idea of a ghost ringing the door in his head. In spite of it, he nearly snorts, snuggling further into the comforter. He considers staying in bed, hoping whoever’s outside would go away. To no avail, however, as the ringing only became more frantic. Sighing, he forces himself out of bed, exhaustion clinging to his features despite having done nothing the past few days. Rubbing his eyes, he walks out of his room, navigating the halls until he reaches the front door. The rings of the doorbell is starting to give him a headache, with how loud they could be. Opening the door, he finds himself face to face with everyone he had met the past week, Moe at forefront. “What are you all doing here?” Yashiki is certain the confusion in his voice is plain on his face.
“Wait, who’s going to tell him?” Moe looks around a bit nervously. “I call not it!”
“Are you serious, Moe?” Tsukasa frowns at her. “You’re a highschooler.”
“Don’t be so childish, you two.” Suzu speaks up, prying the two apart. “No need to start an argument.” Eita nods behind her, agreeing with what she has to say. “Anyway, Ms. Christie should tell him.”
The woman in question blanches. “Why me?”
“Aren’t you used to breaking heavy news?” Should Yashiki step in? Before he can think on it, Mashita sighs and steps up.
“I don’t exactly have all day. Yashiki, this is an intervention.” Mashita says, blunt. Yashiki stares at him. “The old man was right, I guess. You look like death.”
“I can’t look that bad, and this is what you were doing, Banshee?” Banshee shrugs. Yashiki mumbles out his response, running his hand through his hair. “Besides, I just need time to cope with everything. I got my memories back, my sister is dead and-”
“You can do that without letting yourself go to waste, Mr. Yashiki!” Ai chirps. Fortunately, her outfit wasn’t her idol one. Yashiki frowns, doing a quick headcount.
“Wait, wait… did all of you come here?” He asks, seeing everyone from the past week in the crowd. “It’s not even the weekend, don’t you all have jobs or school?” Shou snorts.
“Eh, don’t worry about it.” Yashiki frowns at this statement, beginning to close the door.
“You all should go back. You don’t need to stay here.” Ai quickly grabs the door handle, holding it in place. “Let go. Go back to your normal lives. Hiroo,” The woman in question perks up at the mention of her name, from where she was in the back of the group with Damion. “I’ll make sure to bury the bodies and give you the underground shelter key, just give me some time.”
“You think I care about that?” Hiroo glares. “I’m not entirely heartless. Ms. Yasuoka, if you will.” The old lady nods, rubbing her hands together as she walks over. Eita gently grabs her arm.
“Are you sure we should do this? I mean,” He glances at Yashiki nervously, the man still valiantly trying to close the door against Ai’s strength. “Yashiki did kind of help us.”
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, sometimes the most brutish options are the most effective.” Yasuoka tells him. “Don’t worry, it won’t be too bad.” He looks unsure, but lets her go.
“Yashiki Kujou, is it alright if I call you that?” Yasuoka’s response diverts his attention onto her. He nods. “Thank you. Yashiki Kujou,” Her hand raises. “Shut up and listen.” It comes down across his face. Yashiki stumbles backwards, hands letting go of the door, allowing Ai to pull it wide open. His hand rubs at his stinging cheek, eyes wide as he stares at her.
“Everyone, in!” Ai shouts, rushing in to pull open the other door. The rest come in, Daimon approaching Yashiki with a somewhat sympathetic glance in his eye. Banshee snickers. “Sorry, Yashiki.” Ai shrugs, closing the doors once everyone came in. “On the bright side, we brought actual food! Are you ready to try some of Ai’s famous curry?!” She grins at him.
“You don’t have a choice here, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Daimon says, prodding his sore cheek. “My, Ms. Yasuoka, you certainly hit hard. I can see where the idol girl gets it from.”
“Why, thank you.” Yasuoka smiles. “I’ll go help Ai out with the curry, make sure Yashiki doesn’t try to run away. I remember, you Kujous despised asking for help. It still hasn’t changed, it seems.” Banshee follows her.
“I’ll be the taste-tester!”
“I’m not entirely sure what I am supposed to do here,” Hiroo spoke, from the remaining people in the dining room. Moe looks her over.
“You work in a lab, right?” The high schooler asks. “This place is kinda messy, no offense mister, so we can clean it up. You, me, and Tsukasa!”
“I, Moe, its ‘and I’.” The boy sighs. “Sure, I’ll come with you. Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”
“You guys don’t have to.” Yashiki protests, out of his daze and trying to stand up. Damion hushes him.
“Yeah, we do. Someone has to keep saving you, clearly.” Mashita smirks, bending down and picking Yashiki up bridal-style. “Come on, up to bed with you.”
“Wait, wait, wait! I didn’t agree to this!” Yashiki struggles against the former detective.
“Clearly you haven’t been exercising, Yashiki. You’re as light as a kitten.”
“Don’t compare me to a kitten! Mashita, put me down!”
“He needs much bedrest, Mashita.” Damion attempts to keep the amused tone out of his voice. “He clearly isn’t in his right state of mind. Ms. Suzu I believe I saw some books down in the garage. Could you fetch them for me? Might as well keep him entertained.”
“Ah, of course.” Suzu nods. “Come on, Eita, we need to get those books.”
“R-right!” The two rush off, determination in their steps.
In a span of a few minutes, Yashiki’s home was filled with people. It was surreal, even as he was placed onto his bed, Mashita plopping down next to him. They sat in silence, occasionally broken by shrieks and clangs from the downstairs. Through the walls, Yashiki and Mashita could hear the cleaning group shriek. They probably reached Saya’s room, carpet still stained with the dry blood Yashiki couldn’t bear to clean at the moment.
Daimon glances worriedly at the door. “That’s an awfully loud scream.”
“It’s probably the blood.”
“...I’ll go check on them.” The sickly doctor stands up, moving towards the door. “Mashita, make sure our patient here doesn’t try to leave his bed.”
“Really? Here I thought I’d be taking him on a stroll.”
“Believe me, you don’t have to.” Yashiki mutters from his place in bed.
Mashita glances at him. “Of course we did. You have friends, you know. You made sure none of us died, after all.” Uncharacteristically, Mashita gently pushes him down onto the pillow, tucking him in. “Get some rest, Yashiki.” His voice is surprisingly soft. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
Yashiki is silent. The pair’s quiet breathing fills the room. “Thank you.” He quietly whispers.
"Don't worry about it."