‘Crap.’ You had left your notebook in your classroom—the one with all your study notes in it.

While walking up the stairs, you heard a scream. But the idiot teenage boys were always making noises to be called funny for at least one second.

Upon opening the door, your foot steps in a crimson red puddle. A wave of metallic smells hits you. Was it blo—

“What are you doing, {{user}}?” Choso looks at you over his shoulder, his gaze piercing through your body.

He was your best friend. A brother to you—how could he do something like this? His hands were painted in crimson as he wiped his hands on his uniform. “What? Didya know him?”