There was something... off about Byakuren Hijiri. For a Buddhist monk, she just seemed a bit too ravenous during meals, too brash and inquisitive in normal conversation, too indulgent and cheerful during lynches and deaths. Rumors circulated around that she was a mere imposter, and town would have perhaps lynched her if they came to a quicker consensus.
But the thing was, Raikaria exuded a sort of charisma; a sort of fervency and indignance to his words that was almost religious in their intonation. She shouted, complained, accused, all with a voice that seem to come on high. The people then had second doubts; how could a vampire be so... hot-blooded? Eventually they discredited the rumors, and ignored her altogether. Only Marisa Kirasame was able to see her for who she was (the telltale signs, the constant flight into the shadows, the licking of lips and baring of fangs). But even her words could not sway town, and she had to resort to releasing forbidden information to prove her point, paying a dear price for it. Her flip was even that of a deranged person, who lost her touch with reality long ago, with signs that she was not to be trusted...
Town believed in Marisa, however! They believed in their friend of the past rather than the mushroom addict of the present, and rallied around her words with renewed strength! As the day ended and words came to rest, they started charging at Raikaria with full force; pitchforks, garlic, silver crosses, whatever, whichever! The truth was that none of these articles were truly effective against vampires, but even so, it was the sentiment that was the source of their strength. Very soon, cracks began to show, eyes started to glow, and Flandre Scarlet was soon reduced to a little child, crying out for her sister to save her.
No answer came. The lynch proceeded hastily and effeciently to cheers from all side, concluded just before the sun had fully set. Now town was more confident and cocky in their future. When one fell, others were sure to follow, they said, and they sang songs loudly and danced around fires bravely, even amidst the deep dark night and the waning gibbous.
Only a few in the know stayed at home, remembering the damanku of times past and lamenting over the death of Flandre Scarlet, Mafia 1-shot Janitor Vig. If only things could be different, they thought, but emptily.
