Claire was overtaken by a creeping sense of betrayal as she fell down the stairs. Each step felt like someone was pummeling her with stones. When she reached the bottom, she had wished there was some way to slow down time to make sure she had fallen correctly, but there was not. She tried to prop herself up, but her whole body seemed to scream out in a flash of pain, the epicenter of which was based in the left side of her body - more specifically her wrist. She could put no pressure on her left palm or hand, forcing her to prop herself up using her right side. She looked incredulously at the loose appendage; her left wrist had dislocated. She could not move it, not without feeling severe pain, but she had little time to dwell on her discomfort.
"Careful," said Shawn. His accuracy of knowing where Hajime was at all times sent prickles up Hajime's neck. Shawn continued manipulating the data files with his hands, moving as if conducting an unseen orchestra while digital lights swarmed in front of him. Hajime admired his gracefulness, as he felt too old to move so quickly. However, he knew that Shawn could also miss finer details, and this gave him the comfort of not being totally obsolete.
When she entered, projections lit up automatically, while the once dark and reflective floor disappeared almost completely from her vision. In total, there were five projections, four of which took the size, shape, and color of black marble statues. The fifth was a blur, still taking time to boot up. Of the four statues, two were men, and two were women.
Hajime unholstered his gun and left it in the car, taking instead his old notepad and a pen. If the offender were here, he would not make an arrest. All he wanted were answers. He thought of Shawn for a moment, and then forced Shawn's face out of his mind. This was not the time for this, not at all the time to feel guilty. He traced the horizon with his eyes, first catching site of seven flags hoisted at the far end of the shore. Each one was spaced evenly from another, beckoning him to move forward and see their flitting shapes.
Hajime imagined that a drop of blood or a strand of hair would not hide in a room as bright as this.