"Sobi, shut the lights," Fumeko opened up the corpse's shirt. Asobi dissipated her lights and gave a tilt of her head to the brunette. Jotou knitted her brows and tried to spy what Fumeko searched for.
Below the band of the bra and above the navel—in between the blood blotches and discoloured skin—was a faint crimson glow. They were certainly not letters or numbers…
A single line of a strange set of patterns was, dissipating? Something had been scrawled onto the body and was, for the lack of a better term, burning away bit by bit.
The faint crimson glow was accompanied by faint oranges and yellows around the pattern, eating away at it like fire eating away at wood in a crackling fireplace.
As her eyes sat glued to it, trying to possibly comprehend what it meant, she voiced out, "Jotou, can you draw this? Quickly!?"
