Chapter Text
How did he wind up in this situation? Why did he even sign up for it?
Nakamura isn’t one for parties—or any social events, for that matter—so his answer regarding his attendance should have been a resounding no. But was it? No, it wasn't. And why? If the reason he’d want to attend… well, it was something he, fortunately, already had. And he could have it again, of course; perhaps Hirose would be tempted to indulge him since he was in the same circle, but… at the same time…
It's playing with fire. He knows what can happen at these kinds of events, he's aware of the possibility that Hirose might get involved with other people. All for what? To be possessive over him? As if he had any right, as if he were entitled to it? Nakamura thought he was over it. He should have been over it, but his heart is an idiot—an organ that controls how he acts in an irrational way. He knew Hirose would come based on his outgoing nature; he didn’t even need confirmation from the guy to be certain of it because he knows him. So here he is, at this pointless party just because Hirose chose to show up: a habit that hasn’t died out since he was fifteen, following him like a dog after its tail as if he had no trace of free will, no dignity to decide according to what aligns with his individuality.
Sighing, and knowing he has no other option, he knocks on the door.
“Nakamura-kun, my friend!” Tamura greets him the second he sets foot in the room, amicably throwing his arms around his shoulders because he never knew what it meant to respect his 'personal space,' and Nakamura immediately squints wearily. This is going to be a long night… “Long time no see! You miss me in your senior year?” Tamura smiles at him, looking at him with sparkling eyes.
“To be honest, no,” he replies earnestly, exhaustion written all over his face. “My year was pretty quiet without you hanging around the hallways pestering me to join your club.”
“Aww, always so blunt. I see you haven’t changed a bit—though you’ve certainly gotten tall, huh? Did you grow an inch or two while I was gone?” Tamura pats him on the back; he groans and shoots him an annoyed look. “We were waiting for you! You were the only one missi—hey you, you damn witch!”
As a relief to him, Tamura lets him go and storms off toward where the girls are—Kawamura, Hamaoka, Okuda, and Aokiyama—gathered around a table with pitchers full of sugary drinks and plates piled high with snacks.
Aokiyama flinches and instantly goes on the defensive. “Who are you calling a witch, drama boy?!"
“What are you even doing here?! You weren’t on the guest list! How did you get in here?!” Tamura demands, pointing an angry finger at her.
“Ha! A ‘witch’ has her secrets. I wasn’t the leader of the occult club for nothing,” she claims haughtily, tossing a lock of her hair.
“Why are you here?! This was supposed to be a party as a gift from me to the seniors, you meddler! I didn’t need to see your stupid face!” Tamura continues ranting, shoving her from behind to goad her into leaving. This infuriates Aokiyama, who resists, “what did you decide to study though? Some PhD in superstitions?”
“I’ve come to fix your dumb party, of course! Why isn’t it Halloween-themed?! You must’ve got that stuff in the prop room of your lousy major! What a waste!” Aokiyama fires back, escalating the argument by jabbing him with a finger. “And how disrespectful! I’m studying parapsychology, of course, because I’m gonna be a professional medium!”
“Is that even a college major?! You lazy piece of shit!”
“LAZY PIECE OF SHIT?! Then what should I call you?! You FAILED future director!”
And they're still fighting. Nakamura watches them with boredom and a touch of bewilderment. Seriously? They probably haven't seen each other since school in a year or two, and the first thing they do when they meet again is fight? Well, he figures that’s just the natural course of things: their relationship formed that way, and it’ll probably die that way too. Paying them no further attention, he surveys the place. For a simple farewell party, or a gift, Tamura decorated it quite decently. He's even impressed that he went to so much trouble, considering there are only—what? Twelve guests with him?
Wait—Twelve?! Only classmates from his year are supposed to be here. So why the hell are Matsumura and Hana here?
Nakamura’s soul is slipping away. He knew it, he knew it all along. He knew something like this was going to happen, that's why he had to go. Hirose's ex? His romantic rival? All in the same place? This screams disaster. He doesn’t regret coming now; he’s glad his instincts didn’t fail him. He’s here to watch over his man from these husband-stealing sluts.
When Matsumura realizes his presence, he shoots him a scathing glance; he takes it in unblinchingly and shoots one right back. Ha! He’s a gullible asshole if he thought Nakamura would just step aside and let him do as he pleases. Well, no, Nakamura came here to stop him, to ruin this jerk’s fun. Oh, how he longs to rub it in that stupid, glamorous face of his that Hirose has certain special arrangements with him, that he, in a way, has outmaneuvered him.
But… he can’t.
And speaking of Hirose.
“Okuto! You’re here!” his friend greets him, climbing onto himself. Unlike with Tamura, he happily welcomes it; flowers might even bloom from him at the privilege. “I was hoping you’d come! I know you’re not big on this social stuff…”
“Ah, it’s just… I felt like it,” he replies simply, scratching his cheek.
Hirose smiles at him, with that smile he would never tire of admiring, because it would never cease to warm his heart, "Well, I'm so glad! Let’s go where everyone’s gathered, okay?”
Nakamura, buzzing with joy, follows him. Ah, yeah, why didn't he want to come along, again? All it takes is Hirose's company to make him like this, riding on a cloud of ecstasy.
The others are gathered in a circle on the carpeted floor, which Hirose says was Tamura's order. Although the house—quite spacious, to be honest. Is this really Tamura's home? It never gave him that impression—has several pieces of furniture to lounge on, as well as a table with snacks, everyone is piled up in this room. Nakamura sits in the only empty spot—next to Kawamura, which doesn’t bother him since they’re good friends. Still, he would have liked to sit next to Hirose, who apparently already had a spot set aside next to his other friends, Takeuchi and Mukai—and, before Tamura rejoins them, he turns on a medium-sized speaker to set the mood for the party with a playlist, the music at a moderate volume so as not to interfere with any conversations. Tamura also turns off the lights, leaving only blue LEDs for illumination, which makes several of them whistle in amazement.
“Wow, bro. You really outdid yourself!” Takeuchi praises with a wide smile.
“You’re welcome,” he smiles proudly, setting out sweet snacks, such as gummies and candies, on the small coffee table before sitting down next to Oomori, “As a future director I had to give you guys something high-quality. Show you my skills, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” Aokiyama sarcastically whispers, which Tamura hears perfectly.
“Shut up.”
Before they can start another fight, Mukai intervenes, “Sooooo, you are?” he asks Matsumura, who is on the other side of Oomori, watching Tamura and Aokiyama’s exchange with curiosity. Matsumura blinks at him.
“Ah, I’m a friend of Hirose’s from junior high. My name is Matsumura,” he smiles at him, with that charm that makes him want to roll his eyes. “I’m sorry for intruding on your get-together. Hirose invited me.”
Invited by Hirose? Did he just hear his heart crack?
Mukai then shifts his gaze back to question Hirose, who is nervously scratching the back of his neck. “I owed him several hangouts, so I invited him to this one as my way of making it up to him. He’s also a senior, and his school didn’t throw a party because… it’s an elite school, so they’re a bunch of bores. I thought it was a good idea, and Tamura-san didn’t object. He said the more the merrier.”
“Wow… what a terrible friend you are.” Mukai remarks. Hirose immediately frowns. “You don’t reply to messages, and you stand people up. Think about it.”
“That’s right! I can remember a couple of times that blockhead stood me up,” Takeuchi backs him up, glaring at Hirose.
“You can say that again. Me too,” Mukai says, narrowing his eyes at him. Hirose seems to shrink back as if he wants to bow in apology, but he also looks angry at being exposed in front of everyone. Is it wrong that he finds him cute, even if he’s being scolded? “What about you two, Oomori and Nakamura?”
He freezes in place. Thank goodness, Oomori answers first.
“Yeah, me too, but don’t take it personally, that’s just how he is. I’ve known him for so long that you get used to it,” Oomori shrugs, downplaying it.
A brief silence settles in, until Nakamura decides to speak up. "H-he's never stood me up..." he states in his defense, because it's the absolute truth. He can't recall a single time he and Hirose made plans and Hirose didn't show up because, if such a time existed, he would undoubtedly remember it, since he would have cried himself silly that day.
The room goes silent for a few seconds, until Mukai says in a mocking but ironic voice, “Looks like someone has a favorite…”
“Shut the hell up, Mukai!” Hirose exclaims, clearly fed up with being the center of attention. Well, at least he stood up for his reputation when it concerned friendship.
“Weeell, changing the subject,” Hamaoka interjects, looking directly at Hana, “and you, how did you get here? I don’t remember you being part of our group…”
Okuda nudges her with her elbow as if reproaching her for her recklessness and lack of tact, to which Hana laughs softly, without any bite, “Someone invited me. I thought it was a party for my own group, so I went. I was quite surprised when I saw all of you; it had been a while since I’d seen you…” Hana explains with a friendly smile. “I was a bit silly. To this day, I don’t even know who invited me… I trusted it was one of my classmates, but apparently not. When I arrived, I wanted to walk away because I didn’t want to intrude, but Tamura-san was kind and told me it’d be rude to kick me out when I’d gotten dressed up for the occasion, so he invited me in, and here I am.”
“Wow, so an anonymous invitation…” Okuda remarks thoughtfully, “Only we knew about this party, so it must’ve been someone from here…”
“A mystery! Things just got interesting!” Aokiyama exclaims enthusiastically.
Upon reaching this conclusion, or rather, the consensus agreed upon by all, Takeuchi nudges Hirose with a smirk, "Aren't you gonna step out of anonymity, buddy? What a way to win back an ex, you're wild!"
Well, his heart just plummeted into a pit, shattering into a thousand pieces. Most people here know that Hana and Hirose went out—well, by “most,” he means his group, so it was obvious to conclude that. Did Hirose really do something like that, just to get them back together? He and Hirose… they're just friends, nothing more than that. Still, Nakamura believes they've built enough trust to be honest about things they wouldn't discuss with just anyone. Anyway, he'd told him, years ago, the very day he and Hana broke up, hadn't he? That Hirose could talk to him whenever he wanted, that he'd be there for him, and even afterward, he'd emphasized it on several occasions. So… he can’t help but feel betrayed. Why wouldn’t he tell him? That he was planning something like this because he wanted to get back with Hana? A lump in his throat tightens; he has to swallow the heat in his eyes to keep the tears from welling up.
Obviously, it hurts him that Hirose wants to get back together with her, but what hurts him even more is that he didn't tell him, that he had to find out right here. Because, more than anything, they're friends who trust each other.
He glances at Hirose, who is furious, muttering something to Takeuchi through gritted teeth. Hirose returns his gaze; he thinks he sees a flicker of concern in his eyes as he does so, but he can’t be sure, because Nakamura looks away instantly.
“Wow, were you two a couple?” Aokiyama asks, surprised.
“I’m surprised too. When was that?” Tamura chimes in.
And so begins a stormy conversation about those details that Nakamura would rather forget. He wants to bury himself alive.
Kawamura places a hand on his knee and strokes it comfortingly as a way to console him. She's the only one who knows he's in love with Hirose; she's been there for him through his suffering a hundred times, so it’s only natural that she’d do that. Even with the pain, with his heart aching, he’s also warmed by the gesture: knowing that someone was there for him, that, at least, he wasn’t suffering alone like he used to.
However, Kawamura shakes his knee, as if beckoning him. Nakamura raises his head to look at her. There is… concern, but also a strange unease in her gaze.
“Nakamu—”
But Tamura interrupts them because a loud sound of objects being placed forcefully on the table silences them all, like glass against wood. Nakamura looks to see what caused it and is startled when he sees four giant bottles of alcohol.
“Whatever! Since you’re seniors, I assume everyone here is of legal drinking age, right?” The room sinks into a deep silence, everyone looking at each other awkwardly. “Judging by your faces, I’m guessing you’ve never had a drink…”
"I knew it! You wanna corrupt the children! I should’ve known something was up when my cards gave me a suspicious reading about you!”
"They're not children, you ridiculous idiot! Have you even tried it, or have you just gotten high on those weird potions of yours?!”
“For your information, I have, but it's not something you need to know, jerk!”
"And it's a party! What did you expect me to give them, sugary fruit-flavored juices?!"
“Yeah! ‘Cause they’re children!”
“They’re not—! You know what, don’t listen to that crazy bird. Think of it as a little training for when you get to college, on the house! You’ll get the hang of it eventually; getting me drunk has helped me find inspiration many times—”
"Alcoholic!"
“I’d rather that than poison myself with a cauldron!” Tamura flips her the bird before turning back to them, “That is, if you guys get on the boat. I won’t force anyone to drink if they don’t wanna, so vote yes or no. If the majority says no, I’ll put them away and we’ll do something else,” Tamura urges, leaving it up to them to discuss.
The room falls into another silence, more tense this time. Drink? Nakamura had expected something like this to happen, but nothing had prepared him for it to actually happen. He won’t deny his curiosity, but he’s more afraid than anything else. Things could quickly go wrong if they decide to bring alcohol into this—especially on his end, since he’s a magnet for disasters—but what else could they do? Sit down and play cards? That’s a good idea; he prefers quiet activities like that. Still, isn’t this a party? Isn’t that what people do at parties? He should have seen this coming. He’s legally an adult now, for heaven’s sake—he needs to toughen up about these things, or else the world will eat him alive. But that doesn’t mean he wants to say yes and come across as the rebel; in reality, he’d rather let the others make the decision and just go along with the majority vote.
“Well… I mean, why not?” Mukai speaks, seemingly uninterested, though Nakamura can sense a bit of tension and nervousness in his shoulders for being the first to break the silence, “anyway, this was gonna happen to us sooner or later, and it’s better to be experienced when we get to college.”
“I totally agree!” Takeuchi enthusiastically chimes in, “I’ve always been curious, it wouldn’t hurt to finally give it a try. Let the alcohol stay!”
After that, a chorus of ‘yeses’ erupts. Hamaoka cheerfully approves, Okuda does too but cautions everyone to be careful, while others, such as Matsumura, approve more timidly or quietly, saying they’re fine with the group’s decision, as does Hana, Kawamura, Hirose, Oomori, and himself.
“Great! The crowd has spoken!” Tamura exclaims, briefly mocking Aokiyama, who rolls her eyes and tells him she doesn’t mind the result anyway. Tamura gets up to fetch twelve shot glasses.
Tamura returns, sits down, places them on the table, and without any preamble, opens the first bottle. He fills each of the glasses and hands them out, placing them at the front of the table for each guest.
“Well, we’d better get started! The more you think about it, the less you’ll wanna do it. Trust me, it’s better to get used to the taste quickly. Remember, you shouldn’t think of it as a normal drink, but like… water to wash down a pill, yeah, that’s it,” Tamura advises, grabbing his own glass and inviting the rest to do the same. They all do.
Nakamura stares at the clear liquid closely, swirling it curiously. He sticks his nose out to smell it and wrinkles his brow the moment the scent travels up his nostrils. Even the smell is… pungent. He glances at the others, most of whom also wear the same expressions of curiosity as they gaze at the glass of alcohol. Hirose is also swirling his own glass, his eyes catching the glints from the swirl. Despite the pain he still feels from the betrayal, he can’t help it… he looks so cute, just as cute as ever. The way he sees him could never change.
Nakamura sighs.
"Okay! Everyone ready? On the count of one, two... three!"
He raises the glass, brings it to his lips, and tilts it, along with his head. He avoids holding the sip of alcohol in his mouth; instead, he pushes it straight down his throat. Although the liquid in the glass made him think it was cold, as it slides down, the hot sting and bitter taste linger from that point, spreading to his chest, causing him to stifle a groan as it settles in his stomach and continues to expand.
Almost everyone grimaces, and grunts of disgust or annoyance are not long in coming, echoing through the room. The most obvious reactions come from Takeuchi and Mukai—Mukai closes his eyes, his face contorted, and Takeuchi sticks out his tongue childishly. The girls, except for Aokiyama, complain in a squeal and immediately start talking about how unpleasantly bitter it tastes, the flavor sticking in their throats. Others just shudder, like Oomori and Hirose. Matsumura and he are the ones suffering the most in silence, or so he thinks of Matsumura, based on his impassive expression but the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Tamura and Aokiyama laugh audibly at their reactions. Of course, since they're the only experienced ones…
“That’s why I brought the gummy bears, silly folks,” Tamura reminds them, and at that, the girls practically pounce on the bowl, grabbing several for themselves. Once they stop hoarding it, the guys follow suit. He takes one for himself—he just needs to get rid of the taste, and one is enough. “Alright! Let’s make this fun, not just drinking for the sake of drinking. How about we do a round of icebreaker questions? Anyone who doesn’t answer, takes a shot!”
Takeuchi perks up. “That’s so cool! Let’s do it.”
Tamura considers it for a second, before an idea dawns on him, “eventually, alcohol will take the edge off, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you, so… the first question is, what’s your orientation? Aokiyama, you go first,” Tamura says with a devilish grin. Aokiyama flinches, huffs, and crosses her arms.
“I don’t know who you take me for, but I’m no coward, you moron!” she retorts, taking a moment to compose herself before replying, “I’m pansexual.”
Tamura snorts, amused, "Of course you would be, you'd even bone a ghost."
Nakamura chokes on his own spit as the circle can’t help but stifle their laughter, so they burst out laughing. Though some laugh discreetly, like Matsumura and Hana, covering their mouths or pretending to cough.
Takeuchi tilts his head, the only one confused, “what’s that?” he asks Mukai just as the bubble of laughter breaks.
Mukai rolls his eyes. “She’s attracted to people regardless of their gender, big dummy.”
“Aaahh, I get it now,” Takeuchi says, and he’s the only one who bursts out laughing—because he was the only one who hadn’t understood—so another round of laughter rings out, and this time even Aokiyama is laughing too.
“Takeuchi, you’re an idiot,” Hamaoka tells him, her laughter dying down little by little.
“And that’s how you liked me,” he winks at her. The girl rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, right, whatever you say.”
“Now you answer, drama queen, aren’t you so brave?” Aokiyama challenges him.
“I don’t mind answering, witch,” he says, shrugging, “I’m bi.”
“Wow, who would’ve thought,” Aokiyama remarks, surprised.
“I’m just that awesome a director. Besides, LGBTQ+ movies are the bomb,” Tamura beams, and gives him a little nudge on the shoulder with his own—because of course he has the guy next to him, “go for it, Nakamura-kun.”
He swallows. Should he say it, expose himself to everyone, or take a shot? If he’s honest, the people whose judgment matters most to him already know: Kawamura knows, Hirose knows. It's a secret he confided in them, and they kept it and didn't react adversely—quite the opposite, they supported him—so why should he care what others think? He doesn't care in the slightest what anyone else thinks besides Hirose and Kawamura. So, he steels himself and says:
“I’m gay,” to get rid of the weight of all the stares, he gently touches Kawamura, “you, Kawamura.”
Kawamura seems indecisive, hesitating with her arm, unsure whether to set the small glass down on the table for a shot or answer. However, she sets the glass aside, summons her courage, and says, “I-I’m bisexual.” She quickly taps Hamaoka to save herself from the attention.
Hamaoka giggles, and says confidently, “I’m bi too. Your turn, Masako.”
“Lesbian,” she says, shrugging, and looks kindly at the girl next to her. “Hana, right?”
“Y-yeah,” she, with rosy cheeks, places the glass on the table, indicating she wouldn’t answer. Tamura takes it and pours her a shot.
“Ow man, I feel cruel doing this,” Tamura feigns a sob and fills it halfway.
“Don’t worry, those are the rules,” she replies with a nervous smile. He hands it over, and she forces herself to drink it. When she’s done, she tries not to make a face, but her expression definitely tells the story. She takes several gummy bears.
The girl gives the turn to the boy next to her: Takeuchi.
“Heterosexual, of course!” he replies confidently, beating his chest.
“We got our first closeted guy, let’s give him a round of applause!” Hamaoka shouts, grinning from ear to ear. Takeuchi puts on a face like an abandoned, trampled puppy.
“Why are you like this to me, my love?” Takeuchi asks reproachfully, sobbing dramatically. “Hirose, here you go,” he nudges him with his elbow, still exaggerating his crying. Hirose chuckles.
“Um-eh, demisexual?” He replies, uncertain. Aokiyama points at him.
“That’s a spectrum, not an orientation! Don't think you're gonna get away with it, little genius."
Hirose sighs resignedly and sets the glass down on the table. Tamura picks it up and pours the alcohol. Why won’t Hirose answer the question? Now that he thinks about it… Hirose has never told him his orientation, not even when he was talking about his own. It’s a mystery Hirose hasn’t wanted to solve—for himself or for anyone else, it seems. He supposes there must be something 'homosexual' about him, given that…
“Hey! This one’s full, why did you fill mine?” Hirose complains, pointing at the glass. Tamura shrugs.
“She was a lady, young master. Are you a lady?” At his response, his friends nudge him and tease him with an 'ooooh' to which Hirose, annoyed, downs the shot in one gulp, without even making a face, just with a persistent frown.
“You, Mukai,” Hirose relents, giving him a dirty look.
Without saying a word, Mukai sets the glass down on the table.
Hamaoka and Okuda boo, while Takeuchi bursts out with:
“Oh, seriously, guys?! None of you are gonna answer?! If you’re gonna act like that, then I’ll start to think you’re gay and that’s why you don’t wanna answer…” he reproaches them, crossing his arms.
“Shut up, Takeuchi. I’d rather be that than a closeted guy,” Tamura hands him the glass, laughing at Mukai’s retort along with Hamaoka and Okuda. Takeuchi is outraged, puffing out his chest to show it.
“Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing by refusing to say it?! Hypocrites…” Takeuchi whispers. Mukai ignores him as he gulps it down.
He nods at Matsumura, “You go, Matsumura.”
Who… also places a glass on the table.
It seems like everyone who’s missing will refrain from answering. He doesn’t judge them—it’s hard to come out; he would have done the same if Hirose hadn’t known. Still, he’s almost certain that Matsumura is gay; his obsession with Hirose is clear enough proof.
He drinks from the glass they’ve filled for him, trying not to make a face.
“Who’s missing? Everyone’s already gone, right?” Matsumura asks, clearing his throat, probably from the sting. He takes a gummy bear.
“The boy next to you is missing, Oomori,” he playfully shakes him by the shoulder. “Answer, Oomori.”
“Hmm, a while back I thought I was aroace,” he says thoughtfully, “but I’ve realized that I’m not. I still don’t know what I am, so… should I take it?”
“Sorry, bud, but yes. Not having an answer is a penalty, hope you figure it out soon,” Tamura pats him supposedly comfortingly on the back before filling his glass. He glares at him.
“I didn’t miss you…” Oomori whispers, drinking reluctantly and grabbing several gummy bears.
“I heard you, you know!” Brushing it off, he waves it away with his hand, his face lighting up at the realization, “We’re all just a bunch of homosexuals, I already like you all. Definitely my people,” Tamura muses, prompting Kawamura’s group of friends to cheer. Nakamura chuckles softly; he won’t deny that he’s happy to be around and hang out with guys who are like him. It makes him feel like he’s in… a safe place, protected from those who are… 'normal,' according to those who still hold deep-seated prejudices about the community. So, this first round has helped him relax and feel at ease in a place free of discrimination. “In the next round, you guys pour the drinks, okay? Aokiyama, you pick the next question, since you were the first to answer. No psychic crap, please.”
“Ha, ha.” She laughs sarcastically, before perking up, “Is there anyone you like or are interested in? Yes or no question.”
“That question doesn’t make sense,” Mukai interjects, his expression shrewd. “If someone drinks, it’s because the answer is yes. So everyone could just as easily not drink, lying and saying no.”
“Oh, believe me, bud, I already know that,” with a knowing smirk, Aokiyama pulls something from her pockets: a golden pendulum, its weight shaped like a deltoid, suspended by a chain of the same color. Aokiyama holds it between her fingers, showing it to everyone, “That’s why I got this. I’ll expose the frauds.”
“You always carry that kind of thing with you?” Tamura asks with a disgusted look.
Aokiyama frowns, and shouts at him, “I brought it because I knew we’d be playing games like this! I always bring them on these occasions, so I can deal with anyone who plays dirty.”
“Anyway, I bet it doesn’t even work! You probably bought it for five dollars at some seedy store.”
“How dare you! I’ve been using this method for years whenever I want to tell if someone is lying to me, and it’s never failed me, and I’m gonna prove it!” She declares, suddenly falling silent and focusing intently, which puts everyone on edge. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them just long enough to let the pendulum drop, allowing it to swing until it comes to a stop. She places her hand beneath it, palms open. “If it tilts forward, toward my fingers, the answer is yes. If it tilts backward, toward my wrist, the answer is no,” she states, taking another deep breath before asking, “Is Tamura sitting down?”
After a moment—or rather, a second—the pendulum tilts sharply forward. This draws a gasp of amazement from several of them.
“Does Nakamura have dyed hair?” Before he can ask himself why Aokiyama chose him, the pendulum shifts backward with that unsettling abnormality.
“Is there alcohol on the table?”
The pendulum, again, responds correctly, pushing itself forward as if a supernatural force were doing it, because Aokiyama's hand remains open and static where she holds it, with no sign that she’s manipulating it.
Everyone remains silent, stunned by the demonstration, until Tamura clicks his tongue, still skeptical but, even so, his astonishment is evident in the click.
"Those are obvious questions, you could know the answers yourself. It proves nothing."
“Oh yeah? You want me to come up with something that actually proves it? I bet you’re one of those guys who love ramen, so…” she sighs, without moving her hand at all, “Did Tamura have ramen for lunch today?”
The pendulum says yes, and Tamura remains in absolute silence.
So everyone in the room is enveloped in a eerie silence, with the music being the only sound to be heard. What makes it even more eerie is that the room is blue because of the lights—which were presumably meant to be decorative but now make everything seem even more terrifying.
“That’s so fucking scary,” admits Takeuchi, laughing nervously to try and lighten the mood, “turn the lights back on.”
“That’s so cool!” Hamaoka beams next to her two frightened friends, “Now the fun begins!”
“You said it!” says Aokiyama, momentarily holding up the entire pendulum so it doesn’t dangle. Then, in a way that’s chilling enough, Aokiyama fixes her gaze on him, “Nakamura, you answer first.”
Oh, he’s so screwed.