Michio looked slightly shocked when I called him out, and was silent for a moment before speaking up. "You think I did it?"

"No, I just-" I quickly started, "I just want to clear up any suspicions."

Michio looked at me for a moment before giving a small nod, turning to everyone else. "Yes, I can pick locks, but that doesn't mean I'm the killer. Maybe Riku let the killer in willingly."

"Do you think he'd be that stupid?" Willow asked, narrowing her eyes.

Michio only shrugged. "They probably kept their real intentions secret to the last second."

"Let's discuss where everyone was yesterday evening." Jikkō stated. "The kitchen closes after the night announcement, and it's obvious the killer would have gotten the weapon from there. Was anyone in the restaurant?"

"I was!" Mai said. "With Willow. We were hanging out there for a while before the night announcement."

"Did anyone come go into the kitchen?" Jikkō pressed further.

"There was one person." Willow spoke up, a thoughtful look on her face. "Natsumi went in to get a glass of water. It didn't seem suspicious at the time, but...."

"It's not me! Anyone could've gone to the kitchen at any time!" Natsumi exclaimed defensively. "Plus, Michio still isn't clear! He's just as suspicious!"

"But my pants aren't ripped." Michio stated, leaving Natsumi looking confused.

"What the fuck do your pants have to do with this?" She asked.

"At the crime scene we found a ripped piece of fabric, it looked like it was from jeans." I explained.

Michio nodded. "I'm blond and wear jeans... but so are you, Natsumi."

"But I'm not the killer!" Natsumi responded.

"Then show us your pants. If they're ripped, well, you can't say it was from somewhere else." The guitar player said, a small smirk forming on his face.

"I-I..." Natsumi stuttered, looking around hurriedly to see that everyone was staring at her in anticipation. Her green eyes grew watery, and finally, she cracked.

"Fine! I did it! I-I killed him!" Natsumi yelled out.

"N-Natsumi..." Katashi spoke quietly, a look of horror clear on his face. "W-why...?"

The journalist was quiet for a moment before speaking. "I just... I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want you to know what I've done, Katashi... you've been so nice to me, if you found out what I was really like..." She sniffled. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore though...."

"I don't care about what you did in the past, you are who you are now and that's all that matters to me!" Katashi said, tears now making their way down his cheeks.

"But I'm a terrible person!" Natsumi retorted. "I blackmailed people, I manipulated people, I took advantage of people in their time of need! I-I'm just your stereotypical s-sketchy journalist...!" She bit her lip, obviously trying hard to hold back tears.

"You're still a good person!" Katashi exclaimed. "You regret it, that at least says something!"

Natsumi hesitated for a moment, and gave up trying to hold back her tears. "I'm sorry, Katashi... you made me promise not to leave you, but...."

Katashi ran to Natsumi, quickly pulling her into a hug. Natsumi immediately hugged him back, crying into his shoulder.

"It's time to vote!" Monokuma said with a laugh.

Reluctantly, we all cast our votes, though Katashi kept holding onto his friend. Unsurprisingly, the vote was correct. Natsumi Kato was the murderer.

"I-I guess this is it..." Natsumi said, pulling away from the magenta haired boy. "Well, anything's better than being trapped in this shithole."

Katashi's eyes widened in horror, as he knew what was coming. "Wait! I never got to-"

"It's punishment time!" Monokuma interrupted, and dragged the journalist away.

~*~

Natsumi glanced around, looking confused, when she realized she was strapped to a dart board. Her ankles, wrists, and neck were all secured to the round wooden surface. She began breathing heavily, eyes darting around anxiously as she waited for something to happen.

All of a sudden, the board began to rotate. Slowly at first, but it kept growing faster and faster. Natsumi looked sick, like she could throw up at any moment.

And that's when the darts came.

They weren't actual darts though, but instead, pens. As they were shot at the board, they stuck just as well, ink bleeding from the tips. One landed in Natsumi's leg, and she let out a screech of pain. Another went into her arm, then another in her stomach, and finally, a dart pierced her neck. Her deep green eyes were alight with agony as she gurgled on her own blood, coughing and choking, until finally, her body went still.

7 left.