Chapter Twenty-Four

"I have a question," Jason approached Quince.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"You mentioned there being a... deader dead than this? Like a stage of death that lies even further than what we're at now?" Jason tried to ask casually.

Quince set his book down, "That's correct."

"So could... could someone in this house potentially commit murder?"

"Jason, if you threaten the existence of anyone in this house, I will be notified immediately and I will have to intervene," Quince's eyes narrowed. He didn't like where this was going.

"I'm just asking!" Jason held up his hands in defense. "Sometimes I get concerned about uhh, the tension in the house. That's all, really."

Quince shrugged, "Well, yeah. That's one of the few ways one of us would be able to be deader than we are now. It would put an end to our consciousness completely, destroying every last inch of existence that we own." Jason seemed satisfied with the answer, his shoulders relaxing. This was an odd reaction. "It would be exceedingly difficult for us to kill each other. There're only a few ways to really do it. Besides, I don't think any of us are murderers," Quince lied.

"That makes sense," Jason nodded. "I appreciate the clarification, bye."

"Hey, wait a minute," Quince stood, and Jason halted.

"What is it?" he turned back around.

Quince's stare was mostly blank, but Jason could detect the coldness in it. Jason was surprisingly adept at sensing the emotions of those around him, which usually came to his advantage. Right now, though, he was a little unsettled. Quince was usually so easy-going. Quince spoke, "Don't stress out (y/n) so much. I don't know everything that's going on, but I would appreciate you all toning it down a little."

"Not sure what you're talking about," Jason lied and crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

"Sure you do," Quince tilted his head with a soft smile. "I know what you did." Jason wasn't sure what to say, but he always got an itch to go see you when he felt like this. Other people talking about you made him want to put you away, somewhere safe. He turned to walk away.

"Bye, Quince. See you around."

.:x x x x x:.

When Ryo was kissing you, you eventually stopped fighting and waited for him to stop. It didn't take him long to be satisfied with what he took. You felt sad though; hadn't you guys gotten close enough for him to consider your feelings? Did he really view it as so much of an exchange that he thought it was okay for him to make you insanely uncomfortable as long as it was "his turn"?

"Why did you do that?" you asked softly. Ryo's hands were still holding your wrists, but he was surprisingly gentle now.

Ryo had expected you to yell at him. He didn't know what to do with this sort of reaction. He could feel the truth on the tip of his tongue— "because I like you, (y/n)," but he couldn't say that. Could he? "It's... an exchange," he repeated.

You frowned, "It's not very... this is not a conventional friendship. That's not really how it works."

"Why should it be a friendship?" he asked genuinely, his head leaning into the crook that connected your shoulder to your neck. He was a shockingly cuddly person. "Why can't we just give each other what we want?"

"What is that you want?" you spoke slowly. Carefully.

"I think you know what it is," he said, allowing his body to press completely to yours. You felt like the middle of a sandwich.

You stayed silent for a time, the blush on your face ever-present. You didn't want to admit to the nice feeling of being held, even in this weird and sort of uncomfortable way. You found yourself agreeing with Ryo to a degree, more physical affection would be better. But, unfortunately, your mind still clung to the isolating ideals you were raised in. This made you uncomfortable. "Why is everyone being so... weird around me," you posed rhetorically. Your mind was more than a bit weirded out. You felt like it was okay to be vulnerable.

"They shouldn't be," Ryo said automatically. "It should just be—I think you should only, I should be the only one who... cares for you."

You raised your eyebrows. Despite all the things he had done, a verbal confession from the man was the last thing you expected. "Ryo, what are you talking about?"

He groaned, "Nothing, just shut up, god. Can't you just agree to the exchange? Your turn is next anyway."

"I don't know," you rejected softly. "I don't really know what the right thing to do anymore is. Maybe you should get off me, for now." You really didn't want to get angry. You didn't want to fight.

After a minute of nothing, Ryo sighed and got up. "No one else in this place deserves you." He wasn't even sure why he was saying this while he glared down at you. He was sick of other people confusing you. He wanted to go back in time and punch his past self in the face for not planning better.

He didn't regret being mean. That was part of the fun, but it got boring. He wanted you to... he wanted what the others had. But more. He wanted more. He left you alone in your room.

You didn't feel like crying. It was your third kiss here and you were getting used to it. Where you? If everyone was going to just do this, maybe you should get used to it. You left your room as well, not wanting to linger in the weird feelings that had come to occupy the space.

After some aimless wandering, you found yourself in a room full of instruments, and Jenna at the center of it. You hadn't talked to her enough. "Hi, Jenna," you announced your presence with a wave. She looked up to you and smiled.

"How are you, (y/n)?"

"I'm fine, how about you?" you lied. You didn't want to talk about it (and you didn't think she wanted to hear about it).

"I'm feeling a little lost, honestly," Jenna stared at the ground. "I keep thinking I'm on the verge of really figuring out where we are, but every time I find even a hint of a clue, I lose it—or someone intercepts me."

"Oh," you said. With all the drama, you had forgotten she was even doing that. "Not to sound callous, but I'm amazed you haven't given up yet."

"Trust me, I understand feeling callous," she nodded. "I just want to understand."

You were hit with a wave of admiration for her determination, "Jenna, you've been so strong throughout all of this. You haven't stopped, after all this time. I should've been helping you... I'm sorry."

Jenna looked up at you, "Don't be sorry. To be honest, I want to confess something," she spoke softly, her gaze falling. "I'm really not strong. I feel very weak. I don't know what I'll do if I give up, but I think it's all I can do..."

"But you are strong," you disagreed. "You haven't stopped even though you were all alone!"

"But I'm afraid, (y/n)"

"...What?" you asked, truly confused. You could understand her feeling lost, but afraid...?

"I'm afraid!" she snapped. It was now that you noticed the tears in her eyes, and your eyebrows furrowed in concern. You had nothing to say, so you let her speak. "All this time I've been looking for answers, but who knows how long we've been here! I can't explain the way this house works, or the higherups, or anything. And recently I've been getting threatening notes in my room--I think something is going to happen to me." She was still for a moment, "No--something already happened to me. This did. But I think something worse will... I think"

"Notes? What do they say?"

"They just say to stop searching," she frowned. "They started showing up in my room a little while ago. I obviously don't know exactly how long ago."

"Maybe you should talk to Quince," you suggested. You almost smiled at the thought of him. He was comforting. "That's what I would do."

"No!" She shouted before covering her own mouth. You looked at her in confusion and concern before she regained her composure and spoke again, "If something really is going on, I think Quince is a part of it."

"What—are you serious?" you questioned. "Quince isn't bad at all, he's very nice." You realized this wasn't a rock-solid defense, but you had come to really appreciate him.

"Yeah, but he's the one in charge of this whole thing... Listen. What's important is that you stay safe, okay? Please don't put too much trust in all of this. I will get to the bottom of this, I promise," Jenna looked at you again. You wanted to disagree with everything she said and tell her to not be so hard on Quince, but you couldn't. Jenna was just doing her best—and she was a good person. Jenna cared. You could respect that.

"Jenna... I should be telling you to stay safe," you shook your head. "I'm going to go for now, but you can come to talk to me if you ever need anything." You felt like the offer was hardly enough, but you didn't really know what else to say. Jenna simply nodded and turned back to the piano. You left.

You weren't sure what you wanted to do, but in your mindless walking, you found yourself in front of Jason's door. You considered knocking. You didn't really want to talk to him about his kiss, but you yearned for the comfort that came with talking to him. You didn't want to depend on Quince too much, and you didn't really have the energy to match Suki's usual enthusiasm at the moment.

Before you could even knock, the door swung inwards. "(y/n)?" Jason tilted his head with a smile. He was just about to go looking for you, how lucky he was to find that you were already here. "What are you doing out there?"

"I was thinking about hanging out if you weren't busy," you admitted while looking up at him. He opened the door wider without hesitation, allowing you entry.

"I was hoping to talk to you, so that's good timing," Jason sat down. "Have you... heard about Don?"

"No?" you replied with a frown. "I haven't really even talked to him in a while, honestly. We had breakfast a couple days ago, I think."

"I feel bad about telling you, honestly," Jason stared directly into your eyes. He didn't really want to feed you endless lies, but sometimes the ends justify the means. Right?

"What is it?" you urged. "is he ok?"

"He's fine, I just don't think he likes you much," Jason said while letting his gaze shift down across your form.

You felt a pang of sadness in your heart, "What? But he said... I thought he said we were friends. What did he say that made you think that?" You didn't want to sound desperately upset, but you wanted to know the truth. You hoped Jason was mistaken; Don was one of the only people here that you didn't think actively hated anyone else. He was the only one that was...chill. Well, him and Quince anyway. Maybe you hadn't been prioritizing Don's friendship enough?

"I feel bad even thinking about it, you don't deserve to hear such things," Jason shook his head.

"Tell me, please."

"He said you were flaky... and like, uncaring of the things happening around you."

"Uncaring? From Don? Seriously?" you squinted. How could Don think that considering his own attitude?

"He... said something else," Jason shifted his eyes to the side. After you urged him, he continued. "He... said unkind things about how you've tried to become close with everyone here."

Your eyes widened, "What did he say?!" Jason had to hold back a satisfied grin. You trusted him. You trusted him and he relished in the feeling. For a moment he wondered if he could hold you in his arms, but he dismissed that. Maybe later.

"he called you names. I don't want to repeat them, (y/n). Don't make me say it," Jason put on a face of concern. You didn't think you even could cry anymore for a bit considering all the stress you had been under recently, but your thoughts tended to be wrong on occasion. Your eyes stung.

"That's not fair," you whispered. "I didn't expect that sort of judgment from him." Jason pulled you into his arms and you cried softly into his chest. Now that he was here, he felt like he should have eliminated Don earlier. It was...easier. At the same time, he didn't pose that much of a threat. It was more about getting you to depend on Jason more. Jason felt peaceful with your arms around him, your hands pressed on his back. He felt like he was home for the first time. He wanted to stay with you, but he needed you to be on board with that.

You'd be ready to commit yourself soon, he was sure. He had been working too hard for this not to work. It could be just you two. He could just be with you.

.:x x x x x:.

Moments after you left the room Jenna was in, Quince walked in. She tensed as he approached. His aura was always generally unsettling to her, but he seemed particularly tense today. He spoke, "so, care to tell me what that was about?" His smile contrasted with his tone. She wasn't a fan.

"What what was about?"

"I heard my named mentioned," Quince shrugged.

"I'm sorry, were you eavesdropping?" Jenna's eyes narrowed. To her credit, he had been. His heart soared when you defended him, but he still didn't want Jenna planting any seeds of doubt in your mind.

"I just caught the end of the conversation as I was walking by," he dismissed. "You shouldn't say such accusatory things about me, Jenna." He smiled gently—almost teasingly—at her. She turned away, not wanting to look at his unsettling expressions any longer.

"I'm just worried about her. This mess seems to revolve around her somehow, but I think she's innocent enough," Jenna shrugged.

"What 'mess' are you referring to? You mean the house? Sorry to say you're wrong about that one. (y/n) had nothing to do with any of our deaths," he said, driving the conversation in circles on purpose.

"I mean... the drama," she said, not able to find a better word to describe it.

"Well, she was right you know," Quince took a step away, ready to abandon the room.

"About what?"

"You should be careful, Jenna. You're the one stirring up trouble, not her," Quince whistled softly as he left the room. His carefree quirks didn't match up with the nervousness he made Jenna feel.