The third week began with the rain. Cold, petty rain that tapped on the windows of Yukimura High like it was mocking John for caring too much.
By then, Kana was still in the hospital. Her condition had stabilized physically, but her messages had grown shorter. She wasn't posting anymore; she hadn't touched Twibbler since that day.l except when she talked to everyone.
And John?
John was unraveling.
He kept his promise on the surface, never bringing it up again with Kana. But the moment he got home, the gloves came off. He wasn't going to sit on his hands while the people who pushed her to the edge kept running free.
Each night became a war room.
He scoured Twibbler, looking through reply threads, archived screenshots, even reposts. He opened spreadsheets. Created timelines. Pinned maps of comment times to time zones.
It turned out a few of the accounts weren't real people, just bots repeating each other's garbage like parrots. But in almost every thread...
There was always one name standing tall in the middle of it all.
@saucy1012
They weren't a bot.
Their comments were too specific and too malicious. They knew exactly what to say to twist the knife. They mocked Kana's poetry with quotes. They dragged up old posts.
They even once called Misa a "desperate white knight," accusing her of feeding into Kana's "victim complex."
It wasn't just cruelty.
It was personal.
And John was going to find them.
He tried everything.
Reverse image searches on their profile pic but found nothing.
Old tweets — mostly replies, hardly any originals.
DMs — locked.
Follows — minimal.
Follower count — 33.
Most of them were also burner accounts, likely created just to echo Saucy's voice. Whoever they were, they knew how to cover their tracks.
Still, John couldn't stop.
Even during school hours, his notebook filled with names and connections instead of math equations. His phone stayed silent, except for Twibbler notifications and private bookmarks.
By the middle of the week, he hadn't slept properly in days.
Ivan and Joseph noticed or, more accurately, they noticed he wasn't talking as much anymore. Not at lunch and not during breaks. His eyes had sunken in, and his hoodie seemed to hang looser on him than it did before.
****
John sat slumped against his locker, thumbs flying across his phone screen as he scrolled through yet another thread. His notebook was open beside him, half-filled with messy lines, arrows, and usernames. The edges were frayed like him.
He barely noticed when Liam dropped his backpack on the floor and plopped down next to him.
Liam: Still chasing that account?
John didn't respond at first. He didn't need to as his silence was an answer.
Liam leaned against the locker beside him.
Liam: You haven't said more than five words to me all week. I figured either you were possessed... or still neck-deep in this mess.
John sighed through his nose and locked his phone.
John: I told her I wouldn't do anything.
Liam: And yet here we are.
John shook his head and sighed.
John: I couldn't just sit there, Liam You saw what they said. And she... (swallows hard) She thinks ignoring it will make it disappear.
Liam nodded quietly.
Liam: I get it…
They sat in silence for a few seconds as the hallway buzzed lightly with chatter from distant classrooms.
John ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling.
John: I've looked through everything. Every account, every reply and every repost. That Saucy1012 freak is at the center of it. But I can't find anything real. No photos, no names, just burner follows and recycled insults.
Liam picked at a thread on his sleeve.
Liam: You won't be able to find them. At least not like this
John looked at him.
John: Well, do you have any suggestions?
Liam hesitated for a second, then spoke.
Liam: I know someone. She's good with this stuff. Like, scary good. The kind of person you call when you want to trace something down without the cops knowing.
John blinked.
John: You serious?
Liam glanced sideways at him.
Liam: Yeah. Look… I've been wanting to do something. Anything, ever since all this started. After what you and Kana did for me... I just keep feeling like I've been standing on the sidelines.
John raised an eyebrow, but Liam didn't elaborate, he just looked down at the floor, jaw clenched like the story behind that sentence wasn't one he wanted to tell.
John: You don't have to explain.
Liam nodded.
Liam: Thanks.
There was silence again but this time it wasn't tense. Then John picked up his phone, closed it slowly, and stared at it. He tapped it against his knee a few times, lost in thought.
John: You really think this person you know can help?
Liam: If anyone can, it's her. She's cracked stuff way more locked down than a troll with a fake profile pic.
John sighed, leaned his head back against the locker, and let out a long breath.
John: Alright.
Liam looked over at him.
Liam: You sure you wanna go through with this?
John nodded once.
John: Yeah. I could use the help. Just… don't tell Kana.
Liam: Why would I do that?
As they stood up, John picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
John: (smirks) Thanks.
Liam gave him a small grin.
Liam: Don't thank me yet. Let's find out who this coward really is, first.
******
The world felt a little too quiet.
Kana lay curled slightly on her side, the blanket pulled up to her chin, though the room wasn't cold. The muffled sounds from outside her hospital room, the squeak of rubber soles, the distant beeping of machines made her feel like she was in a world separate from everyone else. A glass bubble no one could really step into.
She stared at the wall across from her bed. There was nothing on it. Just plain, sterile white. Still, she kept looking at it, like maybe if she stared long enough, she'd stop thinking.
But her thoughts were stubborn.
They always circled back to that post. That reply, that sentence that had clung to her chest and wouldn't let go.
"Nobody's gonna remember you when you die alone, hospital girl."
Kana swallowed hard. The words echoed again, like they were etched on the walls of her head, spoken in that snide, invisible voice.
She blinked slowly. Her vision blurred, not from tears, but from exhaustion.
She turned her head slightly. Her phone was on the nightstand, its screen still dark. It hadn't lit up all day. She hadn't let it. But the urge had started growing inside her like a small ache.
She wanted to hear from John.
To see if he'd messaged.
To hear him say something dumb and comforting like he always did.
To tell her it was fine that she could get through this.
Her fingers moved beneath the blanket. Then slowly, carefully, she reached toward the edge of the table. Just a few inches. Her fingertips brushed the edge of her phone.
Then they froze.
Because as soon as she touched it, the image flashed behind her eyes again, her poetry, her words, buried under a flood of hate.
All the replies.
All the laughing emojis.
The usernames.
The cruelty.
And then that final comment which was bold, cruel and unforgiving, like it had been waiting for her to read it.
Her hand began to tremble.
She pulled her hand back quickly, and pressed it against her chest.
Kana: (to herself) I'm fine. I'm okay.
But she wasn't.
She bit her lip to stop the quiver and squeezed her eyes shut and curled up tighter and turned her face into the pillow. But then that didn't stop the flood of the posts to flash through her mind again.
*****
John followed Liam after school until he finally got to his house, which gave John the idea that the person they came to meet was probably part of Liam's family.
On getting into the house, it seemed empty and quiet.
Liam: Guess Mom and Dad aren't back yet.
John: (nods) By the way, you never said who we were going to meet.
Liam: Oh yeah...? It's my big sister.
Liam led John up the stairs of a quiet, tidy home tucked just behind the school district. The walls were lined with framed pictures of Liam and his sister as kids, snowball fights, water park days, awkward middle school grins. The place felt lived-in, like a home someone worked hard to protect.
Liam glanced back.
Liam: She's probably in her room. Just… be cool.
John raised an eyebrow.
John: I am cool.
Liam: Yeah but sometimes, you're intense.
John scoffed as Liam pushed open the door to a room glowing with the soft blue light of a triple-monitor setup and a string of fading LED lights. A girl sat cross-legged in a rolling chair, black hoodie, frizzy curls tucked behind one ear, and a cup of half-melted iced coffee in hand.
She looked up as they entered. Her sharp eyes flicked to John, and immediately, her posture changed. She set her cup down.
Liam: Hey, big sister. Hope you don't mind, but we need your help with something.
But Naya said nothing and kept her gaze on John.
Naya: So you're John.
He paused.
John: Yeah. That obvious?
She stood, folding her arms.
Naya: Liam's told me about you.
John gave a nod, unsure what else to say.
But then she added, softly,
Naya: You're the one who pulled him out of the river, aren't you?
John froze.
Liam went still too, shifting awkwardly beside him.
There was silence in the room, save for the hum of the computer fan.
John nodded once.
John: Yeah. That was me.
Naya's eyes didn't leave him. She stepped forward and extended a hand.
Naya: Then thank you, really. I don't think I ever got to say that.
He hesitated and then shook it.
Naya: He said you were the only one who didn't make him walk away. So... I owe you.
John rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious.
John: I didn't do it to owe anyone anything.
Naya: Still… It means I can trust you. And it means I'll help you with whatever you want.
John looked to Liam, who gave a small, grateful nod.
John: Thank you.
Naya: Alright.
She turned back to her setup and pulled up a new tab, her fingers moving fast over the keyboard.
Naya: So what do you need my help with?
John then explained everything that had happened in the past few weeks and Naya immediately got to work after hearing everything he had to say.
Naya: You said the account's username is Saucy1012?
John stepped closer.
John: Yeah. They've been stirring up the worst of it. Always the first to comment. They don't post much else, but they retweet hate like it's a sport.
Naya narrowed her eyes at the screen.
Naya: Got it. Now, most people don't realize it, but if you're not careful when signing up, some metadata can still be pulled. Especially if they use the same email across platforms.
John held his breath.
Liam stood beside him, watching quietly.
After a few moments, Naya clicked through several deep layers of account history, pulling up archived data, cross-referencing with scraped metadata.
Then, her typing slowed. Her eyes stopped moving.
Naya: Found it.
John leaned in.
One single email appeared on the screen, connected to the creation of the Saucy1012 account. It was registered two weeks ago and it was still active.
John's breath caught in his throat and his vision tunneled. His hands trembled slightly at his sides.
John: No... That— That can't be right.
Liam looked at him, confused.
Liam: What's wrong? Do you know who owns the account?
John swallowed hard as the sudden revelation had rendered him unable couldn't speak and in that moment, he began to wish his eyes were lying to him
John: Yeah... I do.