'You, '

he hisses, and Mei 's blue eyes snap up from where Satoru lies, dead on the ground with shards of bone in the sharp puddle of blood behind him, half of his brain strewn into the grass and the flowers, the metal that did it barely three feet away from him. Something shrieks inside his head, twisting and writhing in time with the ugly feeling coursing through his stomach, boiling his blood in his veins. It screams for violence; it doesn 't sound like his own voice.

Mei drops her hand, lips pulling down into a shaking frown as she slowly opens her mouth, except to suddenly stop, not a word finding its way past her lips.

'You