Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

DAY UNKNOWN

♤♡◇♧

There was nothing but pain. The source was in her stomach, in the open wounds that littered her body. Blood was seeping out of them, the warmth strangely comforting on her skin. Her breath was becoming weaker and weaker, rasping out in shallow pants.

Sweat dripped down her forehead and hot tears leaked from the edges of her eyes, leaving warm trails down her face.

This was how she would die. In this cold, strange, cruel land where no one would remember her. That was fine. She didn’t want to live anymore anyway. That was why she entered the games that night wasn’t it? In the hopes it would finally relieve her of her eternal misery. The world had taken away everything from her, so she didn’t care anymore.

She blinked past her hazy vision, eyes landing on the fuzzy shadows around her. Her name was called distantly, desperately. There was warmth in her palm, someone grasping at her hand to try and keep her tethered to the living world. Past their voice she could hear the voices of the dead beckoning her. Her heart reached out for them, hoping to finally find peace when she joined them.

The hand tied to her shook her arm, drawing her away from those voices. No, she wanted to stay with them.

“Michiko, stay with us, please!” The far away voice called, surrounding her hand with theirs. Her entire body was cold, shivering. She reached for that warmth instinctively. “Can you help her!?” The voice called out to another of the shadows.

Her eyes blinked and she caught the light reflecting off strands of bleached-blonde hair, stern eyes gazing down her uneasily, examining the wounds on her body. She knew him. This man had been a confusing thorn in her side for so long. Now he looked down at her, hazy expression contemplative as he stared down at her. His lips moved, eyes turning to the other shadow, the one holding tightly onto her hand. She leaned into that warmth again, chasing it through the feverish cold that surrounded her. “I can.”

“Then do something!” The other voice called “She’s dying!”

“I can see that,” The blonde replied dryly, before turning his gaze back down to her. His hand reached out, slapping her cheek lightly to bring her focus back to him. “Michiko. I need you to listen carefully. I can save you. But I’m no-” His voice faded away for a moment, “-ly for you to turn around and try to ki-” It faded again, “-to decide for yourself. Do you want to live?”

Did she want to live? It was a fair question. She didn’t think she wanted to anymore. In fact, she rather wanted to die at that moment. What use was living when you were living in misery?

She opened her mouth, giving the man her answer.

♤♡◇♧

DAY 1

♤♡◇♧

The police station was a hive of activity. Uniformed officers marching down the halls. Papers rustling on the desks of detectives. A drunkard was being hauled out of the cell he spent the night in for the previous evening's antics, protesting loudly at the rough handling. 

Michiko’s legs swung back and forth off the edge of the chair, arms crossed as she watched her surroundings. She let out an impatient huff, her lackadaisical attitude causing her to care very little about her current situation. They'd confiscated her skateboard and phone when she was brought in, along with a few other random knick knacks she had collected in her pockets. There was nothing else for her to entertain herself with while she waited, unless she stole something from Officer Nakajima's desk. The temptation nipped at the back of her brain, if only to spite the man. But she figured she was in enough trouble as it was.

So she resigned herself to gleaning amusement from the surrounding events, chuckling under her breath as the drunk man swung at one of the officer’s, several more jumping in to give their colleague some aid.

The slap of a file on the desk snapped her attention back forward, a tall figure looking down on her from the other side, "This is the third time I've seen you these past couple of months, Miss Nara. I thought you would've learned by now." Michiko stared up at the older man, his face marred with deep frown lines and his black hair only just beginning to grey, a gift from his years in the force. Nakajima Ichida. Otherwise known as the officer who usually processed Michiko whenever she was brought in. He was a friendly, family man. Michiko liked him. Despite wanting to kick his ass most of the time because he was sometimes just too nice.

It had become habitual, this game of theirs. Michiko would be caught in the middle of whatever delinquent activity she had decided on that day. She would be arrested and brought into the station, plopped down unceremoniously in front of Officer Nakajima’s desk. Then he would join her and proceed to chew her out for her hobbies. He would manage to pull some strings and get her out of serious trouble, because for some unfathomable reason Officer Nakajima had taken pity on her and wanted her to do better’. Then she would be picked up and taken home. Then the cycle would repeat again.

Michiko smiled up at him innocently, leaning over her forearms on the edge of the desk, "What, learned not to get caught?"

Officer Nakajima sat down, picking the file back up. Her file. "No, Miss Nara. I would've thought you'd learned by now that stealing is wrong. This is the tenth time you've been brought in for stealing from convenience stores. Not to mention the two times last month for vandalism." Officer Nakajima prattled off. Michiko hummed in amusement at the reminder. Those paintings of hers were certainly works of art. "Listen, I like you, kid, I really do. And I simply want what’s best for you. But I can only do so much to keep you out of real trouble. But the way you're heading, you'll be tried as an adult and be put through real punishment . And I don't want to see that." 

It was the same spiel he gave her every time, and Michiko rolled her eyes with a huff as the words went in one ear and out the other. Fixing her eyes back on the officer, she sent him a cheeky grin, “Maybe I just like visiting you Officer Nakajima.”

A sharp slap on the desk startled her as the man raised his voice. "Is this just a game to you?! I’m being serious here. You need to get your act together, or I won't be able to help you anymore! I’ve already done so much Michiko, there’s not much more I can brush under the rug here.” The man’s tone was almost pleading as he looked down at her.

Michiko stared back in mild shock, before averting her gaze, shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't ask for your help," She grumbled, biting her lip. She knew he meant well, but she just couldn't find it in herself to take the man’s advice. Couldn’t find it in her to care enough anymore. Life was unfair, so she was just doubling it and passing it on. Just as most people did to her.

Officer Nakajima just sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation, "Well, I guess next time, I won't lend you a hand since clearly you don't want it. I’ll let someone else deal with you.”

Silence descended between the two of them, interrupted only by the hustle and bustle of the other personnel in the station. Michiko couldn't find the snarky comments within her to throw back at him as she usually did. She had never seen Officer Nakajima this frustrated. He had always had so much patience with her. Almost too much patience for a misfit like her. She almost felt bad, but she had no true reason to consider his warning. She didn't want to end up in jail. But she knew that was exactly where she was heading. It was destined, prophesied. Life was never going to improve for her no matter how hard she tried. Eveytime she tried to do better, something happened that ruined all the progress she made. Usually it was by her own poisonous actions. She had too much of her father in her that way.

The world had never been kind to her. Fifteen years she'd been alive, and not many of them had been good. Not that she can remember many of the good moments anyway. She had been far too young. All she remembered now was the bad. The world had never shown her any favours, so why should she return kindness to the world? 

The tension was cut through when another voice entered the fray. Michiko groaned. She had arrived.

"I'm so sorry, officer. I got here as fast as I could." Michiko rolled her eyes at the fake, sickly-sweet voice apologising to Officer Nakajima.

"Ah, good afternoon, Miss Tanaka." Nakajima stood to greet the woman in charge of Michiko's wellbeing. He grasped her arm gently and pulled her away from Michiko to talk in private, their voices fading the further they got, but Michiko still caught the hushed words.

"I am so sorry for her behaviour again, officer." Mahiru said, bowing her head in apology. “I’ve been trying to get her under control but she just-”

"Listen, Miss Tanaka, I know she's got a troubled history, but if you don't get her to improve on her behaviour, the law is going to catch up to her one day." The officer interrupted, voice stern.

"I'm trying, I'm trying. But she just doesn't listen..." Mahiru trailed off.

The voices faded far enough that Michiko couldn't make out their words anymore, but she'd heard enough. She'd realised a long time ago that that's all she was to these people. To Officer Nakajima. To Mahiru. To the other officers who side eyed her from their own desks, wary that she was going to snap at them. She was nothing more than a troubled kid with a troubled past.

She silently twisted the ring around her finger, clenching her jaw.

♤♡◇♧

“Do you purposefully try and make my life difficult?” Mahiru’s voice spat venomously as she gripped the car's steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the tension. 

Michiko observed the woman out of the corner of her eye, purposefully ignoring the rant the woman had descended into. Seething rage rolled off of Mahiru in waves, seeping through Michiko’s clothes. The teenager shivered, setting her gaze out of the window to the passing city buildings as Mahiru continued. 

“I’ve become a laughing stock at work because I’m picking you up from the damn police station every other week. I’ve tried my best. I work hard to provide for you and keep a roof over your head, and this is the thanks I get?” Mahiru muttered something angrily under her breath, something that suspiciously sounded like ungrateful brat . “Are you even listening, Michiko?”

The young girl’s eyes never left the window, watching the building's pass by in utter boredom, the drone of Mahiru’s words like an annoying fly buzzing around her head. A sting of pain on her upper arm broke her out of her daze, and she gripped at it instinctively, letting out an indignant cry as her attention flipped back to Mahiru. “Listen to me when I’m talking, Michiko. I’ve had enough of you causing me trouble. I’ve put up with it because I know you have your problems, but I’ve reached my limit here.” 

Mahiru let out a heavy sigh as the car cam to a stop when they reached their apartment complex. Neither made a move to leave the car, Mahiru’s hand still gripping the steering wheel with a tight tension, and Michiko’s eyes remaining fixed on the woman who had raised her for the last five years.

Seeing Mahiru’s this worn down didn’t stir any guilt in Michiko like she thought it would. The last five years had been spent in a back and forth game of Michiko acting out and Mahiru attempting to reign her in. 

It had been not long after her mother’s death when the woman had offered to raise her. Michiko had no one else, her father’s parents having passed before Michiko was even born, and her mother being estranged from her own parents who still lived in South Korea. Mahiru was close to Michiko’s mother, and had been willing to take her in out of a sense of responsibility to her best friend, but the two had developed a rocky relationship very quickly, neither of them attempting to fix the problems that arose.

Mahiru had tried to be controlling from the get go, and Michiko despised it. Forced to go back to school only two weeks after her mother’s passing. No attempt to help Michiko work through her grief. No comfort when the other kids found out about what her father did and began bullying her so intensely she had to transfer schools. No attempt to hold her when she cried. Mahiru had never tried to understand her, had never tried to help her. All it boiled down to with the woman was the importance of her education. Study hard. Get into a good high school. Make it to university. Get a good job. Make your mother proud.

She had no right to tell her to do it in the name of her mother. 

It was no wonder Michiko began to act out when she got over. It was only natural that she had.. Issues.

She had stopped giving a damn about life long ago.

“Your school called again.” Mahiru’s voice sounded almost defeated, “You flunked another test. Your grades are slipping… How do you expect to pass your high school entrance exams at this rate? They’re just a few months away. It’s like you’re not even trying anymore.”

“Because I’m not.” Michiko mumbled, placing her elbow against the armrest of the door, leaning her cheek against her fist.

Jumping at the loud slap of Mahiru’s hands against the wheel, Michiko’s head snapped to the woman, eyes widening as her rage spilled out. “Is everything just a joke to you?! Is this how you’re going to live then? Just- Just give up on your education, live like a delinquent, wind up in a jail cell before you turn sixteen?! If your mother was alive she’d be so disappointed in you-”

“Fuck you!” Michiko interrupted sharply, violently ripping the door open and storming away to the stairwell.

Mahiru was quick to follow her up the stairs, voice cracking as she shouted after her, “That’s it, you’re grounded! No skateboard, no phone, no leaving the house except for school! I'm sick of this! Sick of it!”

Whirling around, Michiko yelled back at her, “What!? You can’t do that!”

“I absolutely can. Now get inside before you embarrass us further.” Mahiru spat.

Letting an angered huff leave through her nose, Michiko turned around and stormed through the door, immediately heading to her room.

“Ah Ah. Skateboard and phone. Now.” Mahiry snapped after her, pausing her in her tracks. Blowing her hair out of her face with an annoyed puff of air, Michiko whipped aroung, letting her skateboard clatter to the ground at Mahiru’s feet and slapping her phone down into her awaiting palm.

“Sometimes I wish I’d never take you in. You’ve been more trouble that you’re worth. I expect better behaviour from tomorrow or you’re on your own.” Mahiru spat.

Clenching her jaw tightly, Michiko turned on her heels, storming away to her room and slamming the door behind her.

♤♡◇♧

It was later that evening that Michiko found herself laid in bed, twiddling her ring as her thoughts stirred. It was a simple ring. A silver band with some vines intricately carved on the outside. No precious stones to make it of value. She didn't even know if it was real silver or not. Nevertheless, despite there being no diamond or sapphire, no ruby or emerald, whether the silver was real or fake, it was no less precious to her.

It had belonged to her mother once upon a time.

One of only two remnants she had left of her. She turned her head to find the other, the frame standing tall on the bedside table. An old, worn picture of a young Kang Eun-Kyung. Not yet Nara Eun-Kyung. It was taken not long after she had moved from South Korea to Japan to start a new life, young and eyes full of shining hope for a fruitful future. There was an arm wrapped around her, but the owner of the arm was missing from view even though Michiko could picture him clearly. Half of the photograph was missing, purposefully folded back to keep his image away from Michiko’s eyes.

Staring at the photo for what felt like hours, Michiko reminisced for a moment to a brief time when she was happy. When the warmth of her mother’s arms was something she experienced everyday, a warm blanket that used to smother her. The complete opposite of this cold, purposeless existence she now lived in.

She could barely even remember her voice.

Rising from the bed, she grabbed the picture, removing it from the frame before stuffing it into the backpack under her bed.

Sneaking out that night was easy enough. She'd done it enough times to learn all the tricks Mahiru used to try and keep her confined. 

Michiko waited until it was completely dark, the street lights flickering on outside to cast an ominous glow to the empty streets. Mahiru was an early riser for work, so she went to sleep early every night like clockwork. Michiko sat on the edge of her bed and watched the clock on her nightstand tick away, foot tapping on the ground in rhythm with it.

When the hands hit half past ten, she rose, grabbing her bag and placing her ear against the door, listening out for any movement. A couple of minutes of complete silence later, she opened the door softly and slowly, ensuring it didn’t squeak on the hinges loud enough to alert Mahiru to her actions. Creeping out into the kitchen, she opened the cupboard where Mahiru stored her emergency money, grabbing a handful of bills from the jar and stuffing them in her backpack.

She wanted to grab her phone, but she couldn’t risk being tracked down through it, so it unfortunately had to be left behind. Thankfully, Michiko had been prepared enough to charge her old iPod, so would at least be accompanied by her favourite playlists downloaded into the small device.

Once she was sure she had everything, she stalked her way to the front door, donning her backpack and carefully lifting her skateboard from its prison behind the coatrack. Having it secured, she glanced back one last time at the apartment, devoid of any regret for her actions. Mahiru wanted to be rid of her? That was fine, Michiko would make it on her own.

Picking the locks on the door, she crept out into the silent night, not looking back.

♤♡◇♧

It had been two weeks since that day. It felt longer in her head.

Michiko had been surviving by stealing food from convenience stores, without getting herself caught. Being caught meant being dragged back into Mahiru’s clutches, which Michiko despised the thought of. It was why she had left Ebisu altogether, making her way to Shibuya to disappear into the heavy population there. 

She found hidden away corners where not even the drunks could bother her to sleep in. She could’ve used her money to buy a cheap hotel, but Michiko didn’t want to use it up so quickly. But she was good at finding those spaces in places no one would think to look, curling up with her meagre blanket and layers of clothes, backpack used as an uncomfortable pillow.

At times, she was scared. The world had been against her since she was young, and now she was in an even more vulnerable position. A clatter further down the alleyway would spook her into finding another place to settle for the night. There were a couple of times she had nearly been cornered, but she used the knowledge she’s gained of the streets to slip away without a trace. Her small size could be used to her advantage sometimes, people ignoring her small existence. 

And so, she kept drifting, with no purpose other than to exist in this world like an unwanted pest. Having no reason to live but living anyway. That’s all she had ever been since that day five years ago, so it was all she would become. She often wondered what the point of it all was. Why keep going when there's nothing keeping you there? She had these thoughts a lot, but her the images in her head never came to fruition. They just existed on a daily basis like a latent virus. Maybe one day they would consume her enough that she would unnoticeably disappear from the world.

It was on one such day that these thoughts swirled in her head as she aimlessly sped through a bustling Shibuya on her skateboard, paying little attention to the people she instinctively dodged along the way. Her whole life stuffed into a rucksack hanging upon her back. 

The day had started as it normally did. Michiko woke up in a dark corner somewhere, checked that her belongings hadn’t been swiped, then find a convenience store and quietly bag a few items for the day. Snacks and drinks mostly, nothing that would go noticed. Then she bought soemthing cheap to avoid suspicion.

Finding herself in an alleyway, she stared up at a graffiti covered wall, a can of spray paint in her hand as she added her own decorations. Swirls of colour weaving through one another, cartoonish characters poking out of the mess. It was beautiful.

“Hey!” A shout down the street had her eyes widening as her head snapped to the direction of the voice. A uniformed officer stood at the end of the street, eyes flipping between her face and her hand. “Put the can down and stay where you are.”

Dropping the can, Michiko’s foot edged back, her hand slowly reached out for her skateboard that was leaned up against the wall. Her shallow breath hitched as the officer stepped closer, hand inching toward the handcuffs on his waist. When he examined her face, Michiko watched his eyes flicker in reconition, and her heart sped up. 

No, she couldn’t be caught.

“Wait,” The officer mumbled, “You’re that missing girl. The one from Ebisu right? Just stay there for me, I promise you aren’t in trouble.”

Liar.

Swiftly, Michiko snatched up her board, fleeing down the opposite end of the alley. The slap of footsetps chased her down as she weaved her way around the street corners, using her knowledge to get her back to the main streets as quickly as possible. The officer continued shouting behind her.

Seeing throngs of people up ahead, Michiko sped up her pace, baging through the crowd as they protested her bull in a chinashop crashing. Once successfully swallowed up by the crowd, she pulled up her hood, slowing her pace as she heard the officer shouting. She watched him run further down the street, head whipping around to try and catch sight of her, before crying in frustration and giving up. Grinning, she ducked her head as the crowd disgised her, and she placed her skateboard down, the weheels scrapping on the pavement as she sketed away from the scene.

Now, she skated through Shibuya, minding her own business when fate set in motion a chain of events that would change her life forever. Her detached mind caused her to not pay attention to her surroundings fully. A huge mistake on her part in a place as busy as Shibuya. It was unavoidable that she was going to eventually crash into someone. The force to force impact sent her toppling backwards, her vision blurred with white, and she fell to the ground with a cry, skateboard rolling further away.

Picking herself up quickly, she brushed her hands on her shorts, ignoring the stinging of her scraped knees and looked up at the offender with an annoyed scowl. "Hey! Watch where you're going asshole."

The blonde-haired man - who had stayed standing much to her chagrin - nonchalantly raised an eyebrow at her, as if she was nothing but a mild inconvenience to his day. A fly that needed to be swatted away. Something that she usually was to most people. "I think you'll find it was you who crashed into me. Maybe you should watch where you're going."

"Tch, whatever." Michiko stepped past him, embarrassed heat gracing her cheeks as she purposefully knocked his shoulder harshly and placed one foot on her board, ready to dart off. Around her, the crowd had stopped entirely, all looking up at to the sky. Noticing the sudden shift, Michiko’s own eyes gazed upwards in curiousity as multiple loud pops sounded in the air, and fireworks exploded in the bright blue sky. Eyebrows scrunching in confusion for a second, she wondered why someone would set fireworks off during the day when you could hardly see them.

That was the last thought she had before - just for a split-second - the whole world turned black.

When her vision cleared again, everything was the same. The same bright blue sky. The same tall buildings of Shibuya. The same pavement had just ebarassingly fell onto. Only, there was a single glaring discrepancy now, compared to a few seconds before.

Everyone was gone. Apart from the very blonde man she had just bumped into.

"What the fuck?"

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 1

♤♡◇♧

From the moment her mother had died, Michiko had come to despise silence. Silence was eerie, and instilled within her a dreaded, hair on edge sense of paranoia. The thoughts that she continuously shoved to the back of her mind had the room to surge forward with nothing in the way. All distractions would disappear, allowing the madness to stir. 

The noise that had once emanated from the busy Shibuya streets was now non-existent, sending shivers down Michiko’s back, like someone had walked over her grave. There were no irritated cars beeping. No continuous chatter of the throngs of people that filled Shibuya crossing on a daily basis. It was silent. Deathly silent. The once packed streets had completely emptied. Within seconds. It made no sense in Michiko's mind, an unsettling confusion creeping up the back of her mind, prickling the back of her neck.

So she latched onto the nearest thing that could distract her mind from immediately wandering into a deep black pit. She turned to the singular human still existing next to her, the blonde haired man she had crashed into, "What the fuck? Where the fuck is everyone?"

Her eyes searched the immediate vicinity, head twisting and turning, trying to spot any other sign of human life. There was nothing apart from the single figure standing next to her. No shadows, no movement apart from small traces of litter rustling across the concrete in the breeze. The blonde man was also searching the streets with his eyes, a mild look of confusion in them that was masked behind a plain expression.

"Hello?!" Michiko shouted out, listening out for any voices that might reply. There was nothing but ghostly silence. "Hey!" She shouted again. But still, nothing. She turned to the blonde. "Hey. What's going on here?”

He didn't even look at her, brown eyes still looking at their surroundings with mild curiousity. "It seems as though everyone has suddenly disappeared."

Michiko scoffed at the statement, "Yeah, I can see that. But why?"

After a stretch of silence between the two, the man turned and started walking down the vacant streets with his hands tucked into his pockets,as if it were another normal day. This left Michiko standing in place, watching him go, eyebrows scrunched in bewilderment at the casual nature of the man’s actions..

"Oi!" Michiko called after him, "Where are you going?!" He didn't grant her an answer. Huffing, she picked up her skateboard and jogged briskly after him. She didn't want to be left by herself in this unexplainably empty world, stewing in the unnerving silence. Once she caught up again, she persisted with her questioning. "Where are you going?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, and Michiko couldn't help but feel like she was being dissected under his gaze. She didn't like it. It felt far too exposing. Like she was a bug under a microscope. His eyes flickered away from her again before he finally spoke up, "To find out where everyone went and what this place is.”

"Ah, okay." Michiko nodded, biting her lip and following along beside the man, "What do you think happened?" He stayed silent again. Michiko figured he wasn't the type for idle chit-chat, so she took the role of filling the quiet space between them, "Maybe they all got abducted by aliens." She chuckled to herself, trying to make light of the situation they were in, attempting to ease the rattling in her bones and the nervous pit in her stomach.

All she received in response was a raised eyebrow from her companion, which made Michiko instantly feel stupid. The condescension in the man’s eyes made her wish she’d never opened her mouth. "Well, I mean, how else would you explain everyone just disappearing?" She questioned with an indignant pout, trying to save herself from the embarrassment flush creeping up her cheeks .

Shrugging her comment off with a noncommittal grace the blonde-haired man merely continued on his way, Michiko taking long strides to keep up with him. "There’s many possibilities that could explain this phenomenon. I'm sure if we can find someone else around here, we'll get some answers." He eventually shared, and Michiko hummed in agreement.

A thought overcame her, the image of a serious-natured officer subconsciously forming in her mind, and her face lit up in realisation. It wasn't the most ideal plan for her, considering their last encounter, but she knew of something, or rather s omeone that could help. If they could find him in this hauntingly silent, ghostly city.

"I have an idea!" She exclaimed, catching the man's attention, "follow me!" 

She began to run off in the direction she knew the police station she frequently visited was, following the street signs back down towards Ebisu. After a second she noticed the man wasn't following. She turned, seeing him fixing her with an almost patronizing stare, an expectant expression forming on her own face as she beckoned him along. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

The man let out a quiet, mildly annoyed sigh, his face never shifting from the seemingly permanent nonchalant look on his face, before falling into step with her.

♤♡◇♧

Chishiya desired to know what was going on. How did everyone in Tokyo just suddenly disappear without a trace? In front of his eyes no less. It made no sense. All that was left of the previously bustling Shibuya streets was this rude, loudmouth teenager who almost ran him over with a skateboard. Being alone in this strange reality would have been far more preferable. It would've saved him from her incessant questioning. The silence would have allowed him to think in peace..

He had contemplated letting her run off and quietly going in his own direction while she was distracted with her mission. But he became rather interested in seeing where she believed would be a good place to turn to. It seemed he had nothing better to do. Wherever they went would hopefully lead to some answers.

They had been walking for a few minutes in comfortable silence - well, comfortable for him at least - before the girl spoke up, intruding on Chishiya’s time to think yet again, "So, what's your name anyway? Might as well get to know each other since we seem to be the only people around right now." Chishiya wished that this girl, whatever she was called, would stop talking and let him think.

“Isn’t it rather rude to ask for someone’s name without introducing yourself first?” Chishiya shot back, a hint of smugness infecting his voice.

Michiko looked at him expectantly, a discontent point crossing her lips. He contemplated not answering her question, if only to cause further annoyance. But then again, he didn't want to deal with her continuously pestering him. Perhaps giving her his name would shut her up for a while and save him some trouble, "It’s Chishiya."

She nodded, "Chishiya… Cool. Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances. I’m Michiko" She introduced quickly, before continuing on her way, leading them to wherever she was going. Chishiya had honestly expected more questions for a moment, but it seemed like she was more focused on her mission now that she had learned his name. He reveled in the momentary peace.

That was the only good thing to come out of whatever bizarre situation they had landed themselves in he guessed. The quiet. Something he could appreciate. Finally, he could hear himself think. With the momentary lapse in chatter, he reflected on what could have caused this disappearance of the masses. 

Parade? He dismissed the idea immediately. They would've heard noise and fanfare coming from at least somewhere else in the city. Shibuya also couldn't have been cleared that quickly. Evacuation? No. Again, how would they have gotten everyone out of Shibuya in a matter of seconds without either of them noticing. In the moment of the phenomenon, he could recall blacking out for a moment. Perhaps he was out for longer than he thought, and the evacuation could've been carried out whilst he was unconscious. No, if he had fallen unconscious at all he wouldn't have still been standing when he came to. 

It simply didn't make sense at all. There was no logical way of explaining what had happened, which irked him, and he repressed the frustration that threatened to push itself to the forefront of his mind.

The last thing he remembered were the fireworks. It was odd, he could recall thinking. Who sets off fireworks during the day? Then everything went black. Suddenly, he came to, and everyone was gone. Everyone apart from this pest he had found himself stuck with.

"Aha! Here we are." Speaking of said pest, she had stopped in her tracks and Chishiya looked up to see where she had dragged them to. Ebisu Police Station .

He found himself mildly surprised. Maybe this girl did have a brain after all and he’d judged her too quickly. It was fairly smart of her to think of the police to help them in this situation. That is, if they hadn't also disappeared like everyone else had. And judging from the lack of noise and activity coming from inside the station, he was fairly certain he already knew that answer.

"Hey! Officer Nakajima! Are you around here?" The girl hurried inside, shouting expectantly, searching for someone in particular it seemed. Following her inside at a leisurely pace, Chishiya quickly scanned the surroundings. The station was as desolate as the streets outside. Papers scattered across desks and the computers displaying completely black screens. Empty chairs were haphazardly placed around desks and half eaten lunches were left on surfaces. His eyes narrowed on a cup of coffee on a desk, steam rising delicately as if it had just been poured. His eyes narrowed, continuing their examination upwards. The lights above were also off. His hand found the lightswitch on the wall next to him  and flicked . They didn't work either.

Seeing the lack of working electricals, Chishiya then had a sudden thought, and quickly took out his phone. Something he should've done when all of this started was check it immediately to see if there was anyone he could contact, and he scolded himself for overlooking something so simple.

It was dead. Which was strange because he could've sworn it had more than half of its charge before the entire city had disappeared. Come to think of it, when he looked back, the billboards in Shibuya were all blank. None of them were lit up as they were normally. Interesting. So, it seemed all of the power in the city was shut off. Including electrical devices. Another clue to this mysterious happening that he noted in the back of his mind.

Michiko's voice filtered back into the fray, the disappointment lacing it clear as day. "Well, it looks like he's gone as well. So this was a bust."

"Friend of yours?" Chishiya asked curiously.

The girl hummed, running a hand through her hair and biting her lip, a hint of worry on her face, "something like that." Whoever this Officer Nakajima was must've been somewhat important in the girl's life.

She passed by him and exited the police station, and when Chishiya followed he found her seated on the steps of the entryway, skateboard in her lap and her chin held in her hand. She looked out across the city contemplatively, like a mathematician pondering an equation.

"So what do we do now?" She asked.

Chishiya said nothing for a moment, before making his way down the stairs and back into the vacant streets. Whatever her plans were, Chishiya didn't care. He was going to find answers one way or another.

"Do whatever you want," he called back to her, "I'm going to keep looking."

It didn't take long for him to hear her scurry after him like a little mouse.

♤♡◇♧

Michiko’s worst fear at that very moment was being left alone within the silent city. That’s probably why she had found herself following after Chishiya so naturally. 

They had been exploring the city for hours, but still nothing. There was not a single sign of life to be found. The paranoia building had begun to create shadows at the edge of Michiko’s view, and there was an inherent hope that these shadows were real living beings. But everytime she tried to chase them, they disappeared, revealing themselves to be nothing.

The sun had begun to set, lowering to touch the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, bathing everything in the golden light of evening. Michiko, who had taken her hoodie off in the heat earlier and wrapped it around her waist, shrugged it back on, preparing for the cold chill of the night to set in.

Despite spending the past few hours together, she'd learned nothing more about her new companion Chishiya. From what she could see he was a good few years older than her, probably early to mid-twenties from her best guess. His hair was shoulder length and bleached blonde, almost white, and looked very unhealthy. Not that hers was probably any better with her living on the streets and not having had any access to a proper shower in a good few days.

She had learned a few things from scrutinizing him out of her periphery. He was observant, always taking the time to properly scan their surroundings, taking note of every detail. He had a gaze that could see right through most things. Earlier, he'd revealed to her that all of the power in the city was fucked. Michiko had taken a proper look around to see that yes, all of the billboards were bare of their usual colourful advertisements. Upon checking her iPod, she discovered that even the old device was completely bust.

Chishiya didn't reveal a lot about himself. He was guarded. He was quiet. He definitely most likely didn't trust her. Michiko shared the same statement. They were strangers after all, only pulled together by this extremely weird coincidence.

And it was about to get even weirder.

As night befell the city, Michiko realised she was tired and hungry. They had been exploring all day and she was exhausted. Now, they found themselves back where they started, at Shibuya crossing, with no more answers than they had left with earlier. Stopping, she opened her backpack and retrieved a couple of melon pans she'd stolen just that morning.

She held one up towards Chishiya in an uneasy offering, "Want one?"

He looked at it for a moment, eyebrow raised in scrutiny, and Michiko thought for a moment he was going to turn down her very kind act, before he took the snack from her hand. And as he did, suddenly, the street they occupied was bathed in white light cutting through the darkness of the night.

Shielding her eyes from the offending brightness, Michiko and her companion turned to see what had caused the disturbance. There were several billboards all lit up in white. Constrastingly, there were lines of black text that cropped up against the bright background:

WELCOME PLAYERS

THE GAME WILL COMMENCE IN A MOMENT

Michiko looked up at the nearest board, eyes narrowing in confusion as she read the text. "Game?" She questioned, "What game?" She looked over at Chishiya to see what he made of it. The usual look of indifference his face held was marred with a slight tinge of intrigue.

"Looks like things are getting more interesting." Was his only comment.

As Michiko turned her eyes back to the lit up billboard, the words changed.

THIS WAY TO THE GAME ARENA

There was an arrow pointing to their left, and as Michiko turned in the indicated direction, she could see a soft red light in the near distance. Signifying this so-called game arena she guessed.

"What the fuck is happening?" She whispered to herself, but the sound echoed in the dead of the night. Paranoia latched onto her, the back of her neck tingling in foreboding. She got the sense that this game arena might be something she should avoid.

From beside her, Chishiya hummed. "I guess we should go find out." And he was off again, not waiting for her to follow. Despite her unease, she hurried after, the desperate anticipation to find out what this game was, and if it held the key to their current situation, overcoming her dread.

After turning a few streets, and crossing a few more billboards with the same message - probably making sure they stayed on the right track - they reached a building that, unlike the rest that surrounded it, had its signs lit up.

HERMES FURNITURE

A furniture shop. Michiko could see some lights on through the window, bathing the shop in a soft glow. A chill overtook her body, and a grave foreboding hovered over her like a cloud. Uneasiness creeped inside her gut. Something about this was off, but Michiko didn't know what. She just felt that if she entered this place, this game arena, nothing would ever be the same again. Anxiously, she twisted at her ring.

"Do you think we'll find answers here?" She asked Chishiya hesitantly.

Said man just examined the build with the same calculating gaze that had been a permanent fixture on his face all day. "There's only one way to find out." He stepped towards the entrance, throwing any caution he had to the wind.

Michiko gulped, took a deep breath, and followed behind.

Whatever it was that was going on, they were about to find out.

♤♡◇♧

Arata had lost count of the days he and his friends had been stuck in this reality. Around three weeks was his best calculation. He had long since stopped keeping track, only remembering the days left on his VISA before the next game. 

Himself and his friends had been surviving as best they could in this messed up reality, and he genuinely believed he wouldn’t have made it far without Hajime and Mika at his side. They had kept him sane as the people around him continued to stain the ground on which they stood with their rotting corpses. It had become the norm now, entering the games and seeing people drop like flies around him. Everytime he just thanked whatever merciless gods were watching that it wasn’t Hajime and Mika.

It had reached that time again. Their VISA’s had run out and they had been sent away from the Beach to win the games and collect the playing cards. Another night spent brushing far too closely with death. 

Arata muttered a prayer under his heavy breath as his group sprinted toward the game venue that was glowing in the distance, asking the gods to show mercy once again tonight.

“The venue’s over here!” Hajime called out ahead of him, the back of his orange shirt fluttering in the wind, wavy hair bouncing with every step.

Mika panted from beside him, her cropped strands bouncing around her shoulders, pink highlights glowing in the moonlight, “Quickly! Before registration closes!”

The three of them approached the only property in the area that was lit up like a beacon, calling all wayward souls into the throngs of a deadly match of wits, where the gift of survival was bestowed only upon the fittest. None of them wasted anytime with detail, unceremoniously crossing over the border of no return.

“We made it.” Hajime’s voice came out breathy as he wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead. Sending his friend a gentle gaze and reassuring nod, Arata took a split-second to catch his breath and collect himself, stealing his nerves and his expression.

It was time to face death head on once more, and Arata needed all the courage he could muster up.

Come midnight, depending on the choices made, he would either be dead or alive.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 1

♤♡◇♧

For the last few years of her life, Michiko had developed a keen awareness for dangerous situations. It’s what helped her survive those two weeks on the streets without allowing herself to get cornered. A paranoid sense would overcome her, creeping coldly up the back of her neck, telling her to turn the other way. Once she had cleared the area, she would look back to see thugs and other delinquents taking up the space she had previously occupied. She had become reliant on this sense, it had become her guiding light in many situations, and she trusted it inherently.

As soon as they entered the store, Michiko was overtaken by this sense, making her want to turn tail and run the other way. Something was off. Something was very off. The eerie store was cluttered with an amalgamation of vintage furniture. Sofas, tables and chairs had been scattered and knocked all over the place as if an explosion had rocked the premises. It was a complete jumbled mess. And in the centre of that mess there had been a small space cleared, with a singular table standing ominously in the middle of it. A smooth, lacquered wooden box sat upon it, and the majority of the meagre light in the store was focused on the box, casting it in a glow of importance.

Towards the back of the store were two doors. The one on the right was closed and the left door was slightly ajar. Through it, Michiko could see more furniture and household decorations piled in. A storage room was her best guess. Near the front of the shop, to the right of the doorway where both Chishiya and herself stood, there was a wooden kiosk with a cash register. Beside the cash register there was a sign which read 'one per person'. Looking under the sign, Michiko found several smartphones laid out in rows, all of different makes.

Chishiya was also staring at the phones in mild curiosity. Michiko waited and watched as he picked up one and scanned it over, before she also picked up the nearest one. Better safe than sorry, she had no idea where these phones came from, nor who they belonged to. There could’ve been any kind of trap built into them.

As she pressed the on button, she was taken aback as the phone switched on, the screen lighting up with the words 'FACIAL RECOGNITION IN PROCESS, PLEASE WAIT A MOMENT'. 

Once it had loaded, the phone brought up a home screen with a swirly pattern on the background. The first thing she spotted on the screen was the white box in the centre with a number in it: ID1000213. Next, she noticed the two apps in the top corner. One was titled 'Game' and the icon was a small white rectangle with playing card suits decorating it. The other was titled 'VISA', the icon the same white rectangle with a baroque style V.

She looked to Chishiya to see what he made of the suddenly appearing, apparently working phones. He stared at his own with an unreadable look and she pouted in frustration that his expression revealed nothing that could help.

"Do you think we can use these to call for help?" She broke the uneasy silence, a slight tinge of hope lacing the edge of her voice.

"Unlikely." He said dryly, "They may be working, but they have no signal."

Michiko looked back at her phone and indeed saw that the signal bars had a cross over them. This situation was getting stranger, and that feeling of dread she experienced before came back in droves, stinging at the back of her mind. Her instincts told her to get far away from that place. But logically she figured it would be better to stick with Chishiya, who bore a mild sense of confidence despite the situation, a knowing smirk on his face as he scanned his surroundings. Safety in numbers, she reasoned with herself.

Suddenly, the screen changed to the same white background with black writing that was displayed on the billboards, and an automated voice rang unexpectedly from the phone’s speakers, pulling out a surprised flinch from Michiko.

PLEASE WAIT FOR THE GAME TO COMMENCE.

TWO MINUTES UNTIL REGISTRATION CLOSES.

THERE ARE CURRENTLY TWO PARTICIPANTS.

A timer flickered onto the screen, counting down from the stated two minutes.

As Michiko attempted to wrap her head around the situation, the sudden echo of high heels clacked on the outside cement. Michiko and Chishiya both turned in tandem to the entrance of the store, visible shock overcoming the girl as they both witnessed the first sign of life they had seen in hours. A smartly-dressed woman, donning a clean blazer and pencil skirt combination, hesitantly stepped through the doorway, clutching tightly at her handbag. Her head flitted around, eyes scanning the room, showing off the tight bun her hair had been slicked back into. Michiko guessed the woman was near her thirties. 

When her eyes set upon the two of them, letting out a relieved sigh, she rushed towards them.

"Finally," She breathed out, before a slew of questions spewed from her lips  "I've been looking for others for hours. Do you have any idea what's going on? Where did everyone go?"

A beat of silence passed, Michiko looking back to see Chishiya eyeing the woman with the same dissecting gaze he had used when observing Michiko earlier, almost trying to figure out whether the woman was friend or foe. Figuring that he wasn't going to speak up himself, Michiko turned back to answer the woman's question.

"We don't know," She said, shaking her head, "We've also been looking for others, then the signs told us to come here."

"The game, right? What's this game?" The woman continued.

Michiko shrugged dismissively, picking up another phone from the kiosk and handing it to the woman, "Take one of these, I think it's about to tell us what's going on." The woman took the phone with shaky hands, going through the same facial recognition process. The automated voice chimed in again.

PLEASE WAIT FOR THE GAME TO COMMENCE.

ONE MINUTE UNTIL REGISTRATION CLOSES.

THERE ARE CURRENTLY 3 PARTICIPANTS

The woman looked up, her eyes darting around the store warily, taking in the surroundings as if they would give her the answers they all sought. "Whatever this is better not be a waste of time." She mumbled under her breath. Turning back to the younger girl, the woman looked her up and down. "I'm Kobayashi Kana, by the way." She bowed slightly. The tone of her voice gave an attempt of upbeat friendliness, but Michiko noticed the clear judgement and wariness in her eyes at her very unkempt appearance. 

Instantly she decided she didn't like Kobayashi. She seemed to be exactly like every other uptight businesswoman she'd ever met. And the look she sent her just now resembled the way Mahiru used to look at her just a little too much.

Sending a simple nod back, the younger girl responded, "Michiko." Then she gestured offhandedly with her head to the other person in the room, who had begun a casual stroll around the store, analysing their surroundings. "Chishiya, he doesn't talk much."

Kobayashi smiled tightly and nodded her head to Chishiya, who barely even returned her look, before nonchalantly going back to his scanning of the room. 

The sudden appearance of several voices outside the store caught the attention of all three of them, and their heads turned to watch the commotion. A sting of excitement stirred in Michiko’s gut at the prospect of more people and potentially finding more answers to their situation.

"The venue’s over here!" One voice called out.

The next was swift to respond, "Quickly! Before registration closes!" Three figures crashed through the doorway, catching their breath as they leaned on one another. Two were male and one female. They appeared around the same age as Chishiya, early or mid twenties. Young, but their countenances weary.

"We made it," one of the men, donning an orange shirt with wavy strands of hair sticking to his forehead, breathed out, pushing past Kobayashi and Michiko quite brusquely. He picked up three phones from the kiosk and threw the other two to his friends, completely ignoring the presence of the other three in the room.

Growing at his brazenness, Michiko let out a surprised hum. Perhaps these three newcomers could give them some answers. They knew exactly what to do when entering this so-called game arena, which spoke of experience. It begged the question of how long other people might have been trapped here, whether there were more of them who had been here since long before Michiko herself had arrived.

The other man wore a red and black flannel shirt, his dark hair brushing past his eyebrows, falling just atop the wiry frames of his glasses. The two men were accompanied by a short-haired woman with pink highlights, wrapped up in a cream-coloured hoodie, dusted with dark marks. They put their phones through the facial recognition process and the voice chimed out once more, stating that there were now thirty seconds till registration, the number of participants upping to six. Michiko's stomach dropped as the timer continued counting down to zero, the closer they got to beginning the game the more unsure became and what it might entail. If there was one thing she despised more than most other people, it was not knowing things.

Kobayashi was the one called out to the newcomers, reminding the trio of their presence. "Excuse me? Do you happen to know what's going on? What's this game?"

Orange Shirt looked her up and down, then let his eyes roam over to Michiko who had fixed them with an expectant stare, then to Chishiya, who was also scanning the three of them warily, hands casually placed in his pockets.

Releasing a semi-frustrated sigh, he turned to his friends. " Great , we're stuck with newbies."

"It'll be fine." Hoodie replied, her lips tightening in a grimace, "I'm sure they'll get the picture soon enough."

"It's some sort of game right?" Michiko spoke up, tone curious but uneasy at the same time, "So, what kind of game are we playing?"

Glasses opened his mouth, but before he could provide them with an answer, the voice from the phone interrupted. Michiko let out an annoyed huff at the bad timing.

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED

THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE

The cold prickling at the back of her neck returned and Michiko couldn't help but feel that whatever was about to happen, there was no way of returning from it. There was no way of escaping whatever it was they were about to face.

GAME: PANDORA'S BOX

DIFFICULTY: FIVE OF DIAMONDS

Turning down to her phone, a five of diamonds playing card popped up onto the screen. Michiko's eyebrows furrowed, and the pit in her stomach dropped even further with every second and every new piece of information.

"Shit." Orange Shirt cursed bitterly, "I didn't want to play a diamonds game tonight."

"What does it mean? What does diamonds mean?" Kobayashi asked, tone becoming increasingly impatient.

Michiko and Chishiya remained silent, the latter still observing their surroundings. But Michiko guessed he was also intently listening in on the other three players, who were clearly more experienced in this so-called game situation. 

"We just need to pay close attention to the rules." Glasses sighed, looking at his friends with reassurance, "We'll make it out, don't worry."

"Make it out?" Michiko asked incredulously, eyes widening. She did not like the sound of that at all, the phrase sounding far too ominous for her liking. "What do you mean by ' make it out '?"

The automated voice once again prevented her from getting answers, and Michiko huffed loudly in frustration, wanting to chuck the offending  phone across the room for its constant terrible timing.

RULE

OPEN THE BOX TO RETRIEVE THE KEY THAT OPENS THE BACK DOOR 

YOU MUST DO THIS WITHOUT BREAKING THE BOX.

CLEAR CONDITION

LEAVE THE BUILDING BEFORE THE TIME LIMIT RUNS OUT

THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE

TIME LIMIT: 30 MINUTES

GAME START

A timer appeared on the phone screen, the seconds counting down from the stated thirty minutes. Michiko's vision spun dizzily. All of this nonsense was happening so quickly her mind didn't have the time to process it. And now a timer was counting down, but Michiko was unsure what would happen when it cleared zero. She had yet to receive any answers about the current situation, a frustrated anger rising within her the further she got into this situation.

The three friends who had stumbled in moments before scurried around like ants as they immediately got to work, forgetting about explaining the circumstances to the three newcomers of this world. Crowding around the box in the centre, Hoodie crouched down to examine it. They were whispering amongst each other, Michiko picking things up like ' its completely smooth', 'how do we open it?' and  'there has to be a solution '.

Michiko heaved, frustrated, tired of not having her questions answered. She felt the band that had been tightening inside her finally snap, all of the stress and paranoia from the entire day finally being released.

" Hey !" She called out, gathering the attention of the room. Kobayashi flinched a little next to her at the sudden shout. Chishiya glanced over at her from his place beside a bookshelf in the corner near the storeroom, turning his gaze from studying the books on the shelf to send her an intrigued glance. The trio around the box stopped in their tracks and looked at her, with various expressions of offense and confusion. "What the fuck is going on?" She questioned in exasperation. 

The three looked amongst each other, a silent conversation being played out in their eyes. Glasses nodded and Orange Shirt sighed in defeat. He stood, before looking at the three others in the room. "Listen, I don't have time to explain fully, but the basics you need to know is that we need to win this game, or we all die." He said in a commanding tone.

Tense silence befell the room upon the admission, smothering the store in an uneasiness. A few seconds passed before it was broken with a loud laugh of pure disbelief slipping past Michiko’s lips. The other players watched in various states of bewilderment as she giggled to herself before speaking up again, "You almost had me there. Seriously ? Is this some kind of prank or something? A social experiment?! Come on, tell me. This is some sort of game right? What, do we win a prize for completing it?" Her voice had taken on a sarcastic edge as she was faced with the ridiculous claim.

"The prize is we get to live." Hoodie interrupted cynically, and upon seeing the purely serious looks on their faces, the anxious dread Michiko had experienced earlier upon entering the store came back in waves, prickling at her flesh. She searched their faces, desperate to find any trace of dishonesty.

Finally, the gravity of it dawned on her, "You're- you're actually serious?"

"We thought the same as you on our first night here. That it was some sort of joke. We very quickly discovered how serious this whole situation was." Glasses answered, tone sorrowful as he cast Michiko a pitying glance.

"Now we've been here for a good few weeks," Orange Shirt continued, "These games happen every night. You play and complete them or you die."

Michiko didn't want to believe them. The whole story sounded so ludicrous. Death games? It sounded like something straight out of fiction, like Battle Royale. A world that had jumped straight out of the pages of a book and into reality. But their tired, haggard faces told her otherwise. There was no lie in their eyes. Only the truth.

And she was about to find out how true the situation was, just how grave. From beside her, Kobayashi scoffed incredulously, "This is ridiculous. I don't know who's idea of a joke this is, but I want no part in it. I've got better things to do." She slammed the phone on the counter and turned to walk out the door. The three around the table shouted at her to stop, but their protests came too late. It all happened so quickly, before Michiko could even process it.

Kobayashi had crossed some seemingly invisible line. There was an indescribable sound, a deep ominous sounding zap. A flash of red. A moment of silence held the air hostage as Michiko watched Kobayashi stop still after a red line had passed through her head. Then a sickening thud as her body hit the floor, unmoving. A pool of deep red blood was forming quickly by her head. 

Michiko couldn't even register what was happening. She was in a different place, back in her youth. Walking through the door to find her mother laid out on the floor. Blood was splattered on the walls of the living room like some grotesque painting. Her eyes were open, glassy and unseeing. She looked upon the present scene as that same terrified child who had come home from school to find her mother had been taken away from her in the worst way possible.

The chime of the phone broke through the image in her mind and brought her back to her body, her breath shaking.

TIME REMAINING: 25 MINUTES

Her hands violently trembled as they covered her mouth. The silence in the room was heavy as the remaining people in the room looked upon the gruesome scene, before Orange Shirt broke the tense atmosphere.

"Do you see now? This is the reality we live in." Michiko's hands dropped to her sides as she looked around at him with wide eyes, "Once you enter a game, you can't leave. You have to keep playing. And if we lose, what happened to her will happen to us."

"Please", Hoodie said, catching her eye before looking around to Chishiya, who was looking upon the entire scene with mild interest, almost unfazed despite witnessing someone die right in front of their eyes, "We need everyone on board if we're going to clear the game."

Michiko looked them all in the eye, before twisting back to look at the body of Kobayashi lying outside the door. Lips trembling, she turned back to the room and found Chishiya, who looked at her expectantly, as if awaiting her answer.

Swallowing nervously and sharing a swift nod, Michiko stepped towards the box, still sitting on the table in the centre of the room, unmoved despite the previous five minutes of chaos.

None of them would be dying tonight.

Michiko scanned her eyes over the box on the table, trying to see if there was any way of opening it from the outside. The surface of the box was entirely smooth, there were no visible cracks that could be leveraged open. So that was a solution out the window. She picked it up and checked the bottom. Nothing. She put it next to her ear and shook it. Her three fellow players around the table protested at this, shouting at her.

"Oi, oi, oi. Didn't you listen to the rules, we can't break the box." Orange Shirt scolded harshly.

"I wasn't going to break it, I'm not a damn idiot." Michiko countered with an offended frown, placing the box gently back onto the table, "There's something definitely rattling around in there- but I have no clue how to open this. There's no locks or anything. So, where do we even start?" She asked the three others surrounding the table.

"Well, it's a diamonds game." Hoodie stated, as if the meaning of that was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"You say that as if I should know what that means," Michiko crossed her arms as she shot back at the other woman..

Glasses knelt down and ran his fingers over the box, searching for an opening he could feel rather than see with the practiced movements of someone who worked with their hands, "It means it's a puzzle, we need to use intelligence to figure out the solution. There is a way to open this box, but it's gonna take some thinking on our part."

“Ugh, diamonds games always make my brain hurt. I’m not smart enough for them.” Hoodie whined as she clutched at her head, hand fisting at her short hair. Michiko nodded softly, ignoring the other woman’s whining and soaking up each bit of information Glasses gave her to try and distract herself from the dead body that lay just outside the door. If she thought about that, she thought about other things. And if this game required intelligence , then she needed her head in the game, not out. "What were the rules again, maybe there's a clue in them. There’s always a clue in them" Hoodie suggested.

"We need to open the box to find the key and escape the room." Glasses reminded her, reciting back the rules.

Michiko's eyebrows furrowed as the specific wording had a thought shooting through her mind, and she repeated the phrase to herself, "So, it's like an escape room then?" The three around the table paused and sent her questioning looks. She stared back at them in confusion, "What?"

"Escape room?" Orange Shirt repeated head tilting in curiosity.

"Yeah, like, you know those rooms that have clues, and you have to use them to figure out how to get out. Maybe, there's clues in here on how to open the box." She explained to the room's inhabitants, gesturing to all of the clutter that surrounded them.

"Yeah, I know what it is. Do you have any experience with them, do you know where we could possibly start?" He continued, stepping towards her.

Michiko shook her head despondently, "I've only heard about them. Never done one.”

"So we still don't know where to begin." Hoodie cried out in frustration, running a hand through her hair again.

"Okay, let's all keep calm, we still have something we can go off," Glasses stood from the floor, and held his hand out, adopting a natural role of leadership despite his nervous countenance, "Let's spread out and try to look for things, maybe... things that don't fit in, that you usually wouldn't find in a place like this. Anything that seems off. Anyone who thinks of anything just… shout."

His two friends nodded and fanned out to different areas, starting to shuffle through the messy rubble of furniture in the store. Michiko had a look around to figure out where she could even start looking within the mess of the store, before her eyes landed on Chishiya who was still standing beside the bookshelf, his eyes fixated on the books packed into it. Her eyes narrowed and she let out a small scoff before walking over to him.

"Hey asshole," She hit his arm to catch his attention, "are you gonna help or what? All of our lives are apparently on the line here.”

Chishiya glanced her out of the corner of his eyes with a raised brow, before immediately drifting back to the ornately carved bookshelf, letting out a long hum, "I'm thinking, there could be something useful on this shelf." He suggested, and Michiko could only describe the look on his face as someone who knew something no one else did. Like he had been privy to a secret the other’s hadn’t.

Her face scrunched up in questioning, before she let her eyes roam the shelves, trying to see what Chishiya could possibly think would help them in this situation. As she was scanning over the novel titles, she saw it. Tucked away between two larger volumes, a small, tattered book titled 'The Greek Gods'.  Again, her mind was brought back to her childhood, her mother asking her to pick out a story. What she had chosen that day had rooted an obsession within her, and she began to consume all the content she could about Greek mythology. After her mother died, it was one of the only things that helped her to feel close to what she had lost.

Her hand reached out and grasped the book, lifting it from the shelf. She scanned it over, running her fingers over the gold lettering on the cover.

"What was the name of this store again?" She asked.

Chishiya's smug expression didn't change as he looked down at her, and as Michiko looked at him, she could see a slight hint of a smirk that reached his eyes. "Hermes Furniture, I believe it was." He hummed.

Michiko let out a short laugh and opened the book, catching the attention of the other three players who were still sifting through their respective areas. "What? What is it? Have you found something?" Orange Shirt demanded, rushing towards them.

"I think we have!" Michiko exclaimed. Her shoulders tightened as she suddenly found herself surrounded by the rest of the players as they all chimed in at the same time, asking her what she found. The only exception being Chishiya, who stayed silent at her side, simply watching the chaos. Michiko, overwhelmed by the sudden attention, let out a shout to catch their attention once more, "Shut up!"

They all fell silent, and Michiko continued now that she held the room, speaking swiftly. "Okay, so the name of the game is Pandora's Box right? Pandora's Box is a Greek myth. I don't have time to go into full detail, but in Greek Mythology Pandora was supposedly the first ever woman on earth, created by the gods. She was created as punishment to mankind. Prometheus stole fire from the gods to give to the people and Zeus wanted him punished. So, the gods created Pandora to be the image of perfection. She was given a box, or jar in some cases, which contained special gifts from the gods and was told not to open it, ever. Then she was delivered to Prometheus' brother as a bride. And if I'm correct," She flicked through the book to find the correct page, "She was delivered to him by the Greek god of messengers, Hermes," She turned the book round to show everyone the image of said god, a robed bearded man with a staff with twin snake heads twined around each other, and winged sandals, "look for anything with these images."

Everyone stared back at her in disbelief, stunned by the explanation for a moment. Well everyone apart from Chsihya who stood at her side, looking upon the scene in interest. Their phones all chimed in unison, shattering the tense silence once more.

TIME REMAINING: 20 MINUTES

Their time was running out quickly.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 1

♤♡◇♧

Inside of a small furniture store in Shibuya, the occupants of the building descended into a state of panic. The reminder of their dwindling minutes had them worrying for their lives, ripe tension in the air. Michiko watched as Glasses turned his head away from the book, expression contemplative as he took in her previous statement.

"Shit!" Orange Shirt cursed, pinching at the bridge of his nose, "Are you sure?!"

"Yes!" Michiko responded, slapping at the open page of the book with the back of her hand, "It's the name of the store! Hermes Furniture!"

"Fuck, you better be right about this. Everyone keep looking!" Orange Shirt commanded, gesturing around the room with his finger.

The three more experienced players went back to their search, with more vigour than before. Before Michiko could also begin doing her part, Chishiya’s voice piped up from beside her, "Well deduced."

Michiko looked up, catching a glimpse of his partially smug expression, "You already had it figured out, didn't you?" Chishiya said nothing but the slight smirk on his face remained fixed, which was all the answer Michiko needed, "Why didn't you say anything?" She asked in frustration. 

"I was interested to see if anyone else would figure it out. And someone did." He plainly said, as if it was the most reasonable explanation in the world in such a situation. Their lives were on the line and this man was playing his own games. Michiko couldn’t help but question if he even wanted them to live through it.

"Tch, asshole." She huffed out the insult, deciding that they would manage just fine without his aid, before going off to look through the store herself.

With the four of them searching eagerly through the store, It didn't take long for something to be discovered. It was Hoodie who called out from the other side of the room, "I think I’ve found something!"

Everyone snapped into action, gathering quickly around her as she presented a Greek style black vase with the caduceus, the staff of Hermes, two snakes twisting around a long pole, painted on it. "What now?" She asked.

Michiko took the vase, giving it a small shake. A clatter reached her ears as something rattled around inside. She reached into the opening, her fingers hitting a small metal object at the bottom of it. Pulling it out, she showed it to the group. It was reminiscent of a ring, but had a plain, flat, circular surface on the top where it would usually be decorated with gemstones.

"What is it?" Orange Shirt asked, examining the object in curiosity.

Michiko shook her head, "I have no fucking clue." A hand reached out and snatched the object out of her palm, and everyone turned to the culprit to see Chishiya appraising it, before moving over to the box. "Hey, what are you doing?" Michiko asked as she joined him.

He began running the flat end of the ring over the surface of the box. “What are you doing?” Michiko spoke up, questioning the blonde man’s actions.

"It's a magnetic key, so there is a magnetic lock inside this box. I'm trying to find it." Chishiya’s hand stopped in the centre of the box. "Ah, here we are." He smirked to himself before twisting the ring around, and lifted his hand away.

Everyone watched in awe as the top of the box split apart and opened up on its own accord to reveal another layer. This layer had a wooden knob in the centre, with a silver switch below it. In the centre of the knob was a cross, one of the lines extending from the middle coloured red, and the rest black. At the end of each line was a letter. B, E, N, Z, reading clockwise from the red line.

"There's more?" Orange Shir t asked incredulously.

"It's a diamonds game, Hajime. Of course there's more." Glasses answered. Michiko ignored his statement, just glad that she finally had a name for one of the strangers.

The entirety of the group scanned the new layer of the box, trying to figure out the puzzle it presented. "So, miss Greek Mythology. Any more bright ideas?" Hajime asked.

The solution was attempting to emerge from the back of Michiko's mind, like a worm borrowing its way out of the dirt. She recognised the letters. But context was important, and without it the names weren’t coming to her. Looking at the cross in the centre, her mind recognised something irritatingly familiar about one of the lines being red, but she couldn’t place why. "Compass." Glasses then whispered, and it clicked, "It's a compass."

Michiko looked down at the cross, and indeed, the pattern was meant to resemble a compass. And now that she had obtained that piece of information, she quickly figured out exactly what the letters meant. Running back to the bookshelf to refer to the book, she checked the contents again to be sure, and found the relevant page.

"But the letters are different." Hoodie stated, "Isn't it usually N, E, S, W? North, East, South, Westt."

"That's because the letters signify the Anemoi, the Greek wind gods." Michiko stated, presenting the book on the table and then pointing at each letter in succession, "Boreus, the north, Eurus, the east, Notus, the south, and Zephyrus, the west."

Once again, just like before as she had explained the myth of Pandora, the three strangers’ eyes fixed on her as if she had grown two heads. She heard a huff of amusement from her left where Chishiya was leaning casually against the table.

"How do you know so much about this?" Hajime asked, eyes searching Michiko’s face for an answer, a trace of amusement held behind them.

 Michiko looked up and caught his gaze, and then darted her eyes away in embarrassment before mumbling, "I had a Percy Jackson phase when I was younger."

"Ah."

"So, we know what the letters mean, but what do we do with that information?" Glasses interrupted the awkward silence, putting them back on track with the game.

"It's a compass right? So maybe we point each direction the correct way?" Hoody suggested, scratching at her temple.

Glasses hummed, nodding his head at her. "Good suggestion Mika, but the problem is we don't know how to tell which way is which. Not without an actual compass." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, before turning to the window, searching the outside landscape. “I can’t even see any landmarks that’ll tell us, the street’s too tight.”

"A compass?" Hajime stepped in, "I think I saw-" He was cut off abruptly by the phone chiming.

TIME REMAINING: 15 MINUTES

They were halfway through their allocated time, and Michiko’s breath hitched as her eyes flickered toward the front door in nervous anticipation, biting her lip as her heart raced in panic. She didn't want to end up like Kobayashi, lifeless on the floor with a hole shot through her head, forgotten in a strange alternate reality where no one would notice. Not that anyone would notice if you wound up dead on the streets of actual Tokyo either. She silenced the thought with a shake of her head, there was no time for it.

"Shit! Shit we're running out of time." Mika cried, externally displaying the same panic Michiko was experiencing. The younger girl breathed deeply, calming herself before turning to the trio.

"We need to calm down, we're making progress here. I'm sure we're close to figuring this out." She faced Hajime, the older man's breathing getting more shallow as each second passed, "You were about to say something a second ago?"

The wavy haired man’s eyes lit up again in realisation, before moving to a corner in the room where there was a table displaying a large globe. He picked up a smaller object from beside it and presented it to the group. It was a compass, exactly what they were needing. "I noticed this whilst looking earlier." He stepped back to the group, and Glasses took the compass and laid it on the table next to the box.

"Okay, so here, if we just match up the red to where the compass is pointed," He reached for the knob and began twisting it, lining up the red line to the correct direction, matching the compass's north facing needle "and there!"

Nothing happened. No opening of the box like it did with the previous task. No signal that they had completed the puzzle. All of the players surrounding the box looked on in confusion at the underwhelming act. From the side-line, Chishiya watched in interest, his arms crossed as he leaned casually on the bookshelf. His eyes darted around to each direction that all the lines pointed in. A glint of silver caught his eye in one of the locations.

Then his eyes drifted back to the group, specifically to the youngest of them. She had a bright mind from what he had observed so far, and he wanted to see if she could finish the game for them, to see just how intelligent she actually was. He could jump and solve the puzzle easily enough if they're time was running out, but he wanted to see where this would go first, to see if she could continue carrying them to the finish line. This world had shown itself to be interesting, and he was happy enough to sit back and watch the workings of this game.

"Huh?" Hajime spoke up, "shouldn't something have happened?"

"I don't know." Glasses replied.

Mika then made a noise of realisation, "Maybe we need to flip the switch." She pointed to the silver switch beside the makeshift compass in the puzzle box.

Michiko turned her eyes towards said switch as the other girl hastily reached for it. But before Miko could touch it, her hand snapped out to grab the older woman’s wrist "Wait, wait, wait." She looked over the box closely, to make sure she was seeing things correctly. She didn't want them to be wrong and risk them losing the game.

"What is it?" Glasses asked.

"The south needle," Michiko began, gesturing to what she was seeing, "It's pointed directly to the switch. And if you look closer at it," She pointed to the very place the very small detail caught her eye, "N, for Notus the south wind. So maybe I'm just overthinking but I want to explore every option, so we don't miss anything. If this is life and death, missing something could mean death right?" She gulped nervously at the thought.

"I see." Mika picked up on her thoughts quickly, swiftly stepping in the direction the east needle pointed, which was where the kiosk lay. It didn't take her long to search and pipe up with a happy cry. "She's right! There's another switch here! It has an ‘E’ engraved on it.”

Michiko breathed a quick sigh of relief, before handing out orders to the other two players. "Okay, one of you stay here, one of you take the west one. I'll find the north."

She turned to the direction, noting where the red needle was pointing. Almost like a flashing warning sign, it directed her towards the darkened storage room. She gulped before proceeding with her task, making her way to the door of the room, passing by Chishiya who remained resolute at his post, calculating eyes picking up the nervous energy she permeated. She entered the room warily, the only light inside being what was spilling from the main room. Not much lay in the interior of the room. A sofa, some chairs stacked against the wall and a few tables scattered around.

She jumped as the phone cut through the tense silence.

TIME REMAINING: 10 MINUTES

"Fuck." She swore under her breath, then got to work, searching the walls for any little metallic glint, using the light from the phone for visibility, cutting through the shadows in the room.

"I've found mine!" Hajime's voice pierced through, and Michiko hurried her search to find the last one, "How are you doing in there kid?"

"I'm still looking, I'm sure I'll find it soon!" She communicated back. She shifted the stack of chairs away from the wall, and there it was, the light reflecting off the silver. She checked the switch closely and found the small 'B' etched into the switch. Boreas, the North Wind. "I found it!"

"Okay, what now?" Hajime asked from his spot in the room.

"Maybe we flip them at the same time?" Glasses suggested.

"I think you're right Arata! So, on the count of three?" Mika called out. Everyone agreed, and Hajime proceeded to count them down, and they all flipped their designated switches once he reached the bottom. "The box is opening again!" Mika called out, and Michiko stood to go join them and see what the next task was. Hopefully they were getting close to the end now. They were running out of time.

Before she could exit the storage room, there was a loud thud and click. Any light that was spilling into the room was cut off, plunging her into complete darkness, and Michiko turned around to see that the door of the storage room had shut behind her. She reached out and tried to pull down the door handle, but it wouldn't budge under her weight.

She was locked in.

♤♡◇♧

Chishiya watched as the three other players hugged and shouted in celebration upon the box opening up to reveal another layer, their relieved elation overtaking any panic from their remaining dwindling minutes. But a thud from behind them had him turning. The door to the storage room Michiko had entered was closed, where it had been open just moments before.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly. Interesting, it seemed this game wasn't done with them quite yet. There was a solid pounding echoing from the door, and her voice filtered through, shouting at them to let her out. The other three fell silent upon hearing this and turned their heads to the door. "Hey!" The door rattled as Michiko knocked on it again, shouting through to them. "Help me out here! The door wont fucking budge!"

Hajime rushed over and shook at the door handle, attempting to wrench it open. When that didn't work he shouldered it a few times, attempting to break it down instead. "Fuck, it won't open!"

Mika's head darted around the room, "Maybe there's a key around here?" She zeroed in on the bookshelf and went over, looking on each of the shelves, trying to find anything that would help.

"Well, there better be!" Michiko called through. She pounded her fist on the door again, screaming, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Chishiya just sighed and focused on the task at hand. He was sure this was just part of the game, and if they continued, they'd find a way to unlock the door to free Michiko. Moving over to the box, he studied 

 the new layer. It was very simple. Just seven numbered dials, the kind you would find on a padlock. He looked back at the door Michiko was trapped behind. Hajime still endeavoured in trying to break it down. He walked over and when he joined the other man, Hajime stopped in his actions and looked over at him.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Let me talk to her." Chishiya said plainly. Hajime’s eyes narrowed in confusion before hesitantly nodding his head towards the door. The blonde man simply knocked on the door to get Michiko's attention, "Michiko, calm down.”.

"Calm down?! How the fuck am I meant to stay calm?!" She screamed back, the panic clear in her voice.

"Because I believe the key to solving the next puzzle is in the room with you." He felt the glare of everyone’s attention turning to him upon stating this. Now that the situation was calming down and logical thinking could replace emotional action, they would soon see he was correct.

"What?" Michiko asked.

"Why else would the game trap you in that room? Because the answer is in there with you. Calm down and have a look around, do you see any numbers or anything like that?" The older man called out to the panicking young teen, talking her clinically through the trial.

As long as he could glean the answer out of her, and she could figure out the final steps, they would all survive this game.

♤♡◇♧

Upon hearing Chishiya’s reasoning, Michiko forced herself into a state of calm, attempting to slow down her racing heart by inhaling a deep breath.

"Okay, okay," She whispered to herself before turning to face the pitch black room. Switching the phone on to cast some light around the room, she tried looking for any numbers like Chishiya had suggested. There was nothing. "I don't see anything-" her statement was interrupted when her eyes caught a faint glow as she glanced at the ceiling, "Wait." She switched the phone light off and it was revealed. Four numbers glowing faintly, shining through the darkness like stars. "There's some numbers on the ceiling."

"What are they?" Chishiya asked.

"5, 21, 26 and 19."

"There's seven digits, and seven numbers dials." Chishiya hummed. "I just wonder what order we need to place them in to get the code."

"So how do we figure it out then?" Mika asked.

"Aren’t you the one with extensive knowledge on mythology? Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in that brain of yours." Chishiya asked. He had an idea of what the final answer may be. But Michiko had been almost single-handedly completing this game. Maybe she'll give them the final piece of the puzzle with her obviously vast knowledge of Greek mythology.

"I-" Michiko looked at the numbers, trying to find some correlation in them. In her trembling panic as the pressure to save everyone’s lives had been placed heavily on her shoulders, they began swimming. She tried to sort through the possibilities in her head, but her mind couldn't focus. "I don't know." She twisted the ring on her finger, trying to keep herself rooted as the voices outside the room picked up, adding to her already distressed brain. The other three had begun to argue about figuring out the code and their voices penetrated her mind, distracting her from the task. Everything was far too overwhelming for her to focus. The dark. The numbers spinning. The voices a cacophony of shouting and whispering, inside and out of her head..

When the phone interrupted, it forced a clarity into her brain as it broke through the noise. The numbers fell into place inside her head. She had no clue where the answer suddenly came from or how she figured it out, but once she saw the numbers in order, everything finally made sense.

TIME REMAINING: 5 MINUTES

She turned back to the door and shouted through. "The code is 2652119!"

The arguing voices abruptly cut off upon her interruption.

"What?" Hajime replied to her

"The code is 2652119!" She repeated.

A hopeful pride swelled inside her chest upon figuring it out. They were all going to live.

♤♡◇♧

On the other side of the door, Chishiya smirked before going back to the box, inputting the code. When he flipped the final dial to the correct number, the final layer of the box opened up and revealed an ornate gold key, with the letter 'P' engraved on it. For Pandora , he figured.

Chishiya turned back to the group and presented it. "Looks like we successfully opened Pandora's Box." He commented wryly.

The other three players cheered and hugged each other, and the irony didn’t escape Chishiya. In fact, he found it fairly amusing that they celebrated opening Pandora's Box. After all, in the myth it was full of horrible things, which was why it was never meant to be opened in the first place. But humanity, in all their helpless curiosity, opened it anyway. And they were punished for it.

There was a click and the door to the storage room burst open, Michiko stumbling out of it breathlessly. Upon laying eyes on the key in Chishiya's hand, she laughed almost hysterically as she ran up and snatched it out of hands, before turning to the rest of the group and saying, "Let's get out of here."

They followed her to the other door that led out to the back of the store, and Michiko used the key to unlock it. The players spilled out into the night, finding themselves in a decrepit back alley. 

Michiko felt the crisp wind on her face and breathed a sigh of relief. Mika, Arata and Hajime were all shouting and hugging each other in celebratory elation.

The automated voice on the phone chimed one last time, signalling the end of the thirty minutes of terror filled anxiety they just experienced.

GAME CLEAR

CONGRATULATIONS

Hajime released himself from the hug and turned back to Michiko, smiling at her. "Thank you. I don't think we could've done that game without you." He calmed down his erratic breathing, putting his hands on his hips as he laughed incredulously, "How the fuck did you figure that last one out."

Michiko let out a relieved sigh, before explaining. "The numbers correspond to a letter in the English alphabet. There are twenty-six letters. So that gave us the letters E, S, U and Z. Which, when rearranged gave us Zeus, king of the gods…” She paused, an amused smirk curling at her lips, “The one who sent Pandora to punish Prometheus."

Hajime laughed in disbelief, "You're insane. I doubt I could hold that much information in my head. It really came in handy."

Michiko gave him a small smile, before her eyes drifted past the group, seeing an out of place, pristine white table in the middle of the alley. Tilting her head in curiosity, her feet carried her over to it. In the centre of it lay a playing card. The five of diamonds. Just like the game they played. She picked it up uneasily, eyes darting around as she tried to discern where it came from and how it appeared in the alley.

Arata came up to her side. "You should take it. You did most of the work after all." He said.

"What is it?" Michiko asked as she looked up at him.

"We don't know, but they appear at the end of the game if you clear it. We've been collecting the ones we've been able to get." The older man explained.

Michiko nodded, her question of how it appeared and what it meant going unanswered, pocketing it anyway. The phones then chimed with a short fanfare.

TO ALL SURVIVING PLAYERS WE WILL NOW SUPPLY

YOU WITH A VISA

Those same words appeared on the phone screen, along with five diamond symbols, informing the players they had received a five-day visa. Michiko narrowed her eyes on it. "What's this visa thing?" She asked.

"It's how many days we're allowed to live in this world before having to play another game. Once your days run out, you have to play again to gain more. The number of days you get is the same as the number of the game. We played a five, so we got five days." Arata explained to her. From the corner of her eye, Michiko spotted Chishiya also listening in, eyes lighting up in interest as he picked up on all the information he could.

"And what happens if we don't play?" She turned her attention back to Arata, asking nervously.

"Exactly what happened to that other lady earlier." Was the answer she got, and a chill shivered its way down Michiko's spine. This world really liked playing cruel jokes.

"Arata." The two looked to the end of the alley, where Hajime and Mika waited expectantly.

"Listen," Arata said from beside her, looking down at her through his glasses, "We have to go, but, if you want to survive here, I suggest learning as much as you can about this world. It'll make playing the games easier."

With that final parting advice, he joined his friends, and Michiko watched them wander off into the night, Hajime whooping into the silent air. The alley suddenly felt empty with just Michiko and Chishiya left by themselves. The blonde was also beginning to make his way towards the end of the alley, looking like he was about to depart himself.

"What are you going to do next?" Michiko broke the uneasy silence between them, catching Chishiya’s attention before he slipped off into the darkness.

Chishiya stopped in his tracks and turned back to her, his face as unreadable as it had been all day. "I think I'll do as he suggested. This world is interesting, and I believe I want to know more about it."

Michiko considered his words, before looking up into the sky. The night was silent, and the world suddenly felt horrifically lonely as she thought of being out there, alone with her thoughts. She twisted her ring, making an impulse decision. 

It wasn't like she trusted this man. She had just met him that day as they'd found themselves in this strange, very frightening world together. What she also knew was that he definitely had that game figured out, but stood back and didn't tell them what he knew. Instead, he waited until she found the solutions. She didn’t know how much she liked that he was almost playing with their lives.

But the thought of being alone on the streets again made her stomach churn uncomfortably..

Perhaps sticking with him wouldn’t be the worst idea, if it meant the quiet wouldn’t catch up with her. "Can I come along?” Tension rose between the two of them as Chishiya withheld any sort of response for a long while, the man simply just staring back at her with a mask of consideration. Under his analysing gaze, she felt extremely small, like a mouse caught in a trap. And he was the cat deciding whether to take the easy prey. She shivered. "But, if you would prefer to go by yourself that's fine. I understand." Michiko blurted out, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

On the other hand, Chishiya regarded the girl. She was correct in thinking he'd prefer to be by himself. He wanted the freedom to explore this world and search for the answers pertaining to it. He didn't want a kid hanging around, following his every move and never giving him peace. But then he considered her actions in the game. She was intelligent, aware and most of all keenly observant. She had potential to be another source of finding information. A potentially vital ally in the games. Perhaps she would have her uses then, and maybe it was best if he kept her around for the time being.

He turned back to the end of the alley, continuing on his way as he called back to her. "Do what you want. But let’s be clear on one thing.” He tilted his head around as he walked, fixing her with a stern stare, “Your survival isn’t my responsibility.” And he turned back around to face the blackened horizon.

He heard her footsteps scurrying after him not long after. 

And they made their way into the night.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 2

♤♡◇♧

The sound of wheels echoed across the marble flooring, every so often the thud of a foot joining in the racket as it continued the trajectory of the wheels. Michiko’s figure skated through the mall, lit only by the stray rays of sun that shone through the glass windows in the ceiling. All was silent across the stores, the sound of the wheels rupturing the deathly atmosphere.

Chishiya and herself had found themselves in this place after the game the previous night, both unanimously deciding it was the best place to hunker down for the evening. The mall had shops that would fit all their needs. A place with camping gear, where they could find tents, gas stoves, and battery powered lights. Clothes stores for them to replace the sweaty, grimy garments they wore from the previous day. There was a food shop not far down the street where they managed to find an abundance of instant ramen, soups and snacks. Far from the healthiest diet, but most fresh food they had found had already expired, mould beginning to grow on it like a plague. As if it had been there for a lot longer than they had.

Michiko had often read apocalyptic books growing up, fascinated by the idea of a world devoid of humanity, where the streets became deserted and the world became silent. But experiencing such a world was an entirely different entity. It was too quiet. Eerily so. And that caused a seed of paranoia to plant itself at the back of Michiko’s mind. There was an intrinsic sense that she was being watched at all times, shadows flickering out the corner of her eye then disappearing as soon as her eyes turned to any trace of movement.

She had struggled to find sleep the previous night, tossing and turning as her thoughts were filled with previous events. The glassy stare of Kobayashi, hole burned through her head, thick blood pooling beneath her flashed across her mind every time she closed her eyes, startling her awake once again.

So instead of finding sleep, she spent most of the night staring at the phone she had kept from the game, flicking it on and off, opening up the Visa app and reading the text that told her she had five days left over and over again. Once the clock struck midnight, the five changed to a four. Four days until she was forced into another game of life and death according to Arata. Michiko sighed and switched the phone off, trying to find sleep again.

Once the morning light broke in, she woke up, rubbing her eyes as they blearily adjusted to the world once more. Upon regaining her awareness, she shrugged on her hoodie, grabbed her backpack and began a hunt through the mall. She had realised late in the night she had left her skateboard in the game venue, and grieved the loss. 

There was an instinctual refusal from her mind to go back to that place, to have to bypass the cold body of Kobayashi that probably still lay on the ground outside the store. The thought made her stomach roll. So instead, she looked through each shop in the mall, hunting down a new one. 

Luckily, her search yielded the desired results. There was a small place tucked away on the second floor, walls decorated with graffiti-like patterns, that had many for her to choose from. After taking a moment to admire the brightly coloured chaos, she then spent at least an hour looking at the artwork on the underside of each board, deciding which to take. One that depicted a smirking cat holding its middle fingers up caught her eye. Chuckling to herself,she grabbed it, finding some tools behind the kiosk and adjusting the wheels to her liking.

Now she was rolling down the empty halls upon her bounty, heading back to the furniture store hishiya and herself had settled in, after making a small detour to the food shop for more supplies. The plastic bag full of ramen packets rustled at her side as she propelled the board forward, liking the way the rattling wheels cut through the paranoia-inducing silence.

Upon reaching the furniture store she found Chishiya sitting on a pristine white couch - his choice of white clothing and bleached hair almost blending him into the piece of furniture - a wooden coffee table in front of him. There were already wrappers left scattered across it from the meal that they had shared in silence the previous night. A gas stove sat in the middle, with metal food containers stacked up needing to be washed.

The blonde-haired man stared at something down in his hand, his expression contemplative. As Michiko drew closer, she could see him assessing his own phone. He didn't even acknowledge her as she drew closer, leaning her board up against the armchair perpendicular to the sofa.

"What's up?" She asked, placing the plastic grocery bag amidst the rest of the clutter on the table.

The only acknowledgment Chishiya gave her was a scrutinising eyebrow raise to her adding to the mess on the table, before he went back to the phone. "Check your phone," Was all he said.

Michiko blinked in surprise, “Good morning to you too,” she snipped, before doing as he asked. She hadn't thought to check it at all that morning. But now, as she tried to switch it on, the screen wouldn't light up, stubbornly remaining black no matter how many times she pressed the button. Her eyebrows furrowed. "It's not working anymore," She stated, looking back up at her companion.

Chishiya didn't even look surprised at this information, merely nodding as if his suspicions had been confirmed. "It seems as though they only work for a certain time after the games are over," He said, placing his own phone down on the table.

Michiko slumped down into the armchair, doing the same. "So, we get a new one at the next game then?" She asked.

"Perhaps," Chishiya mused, leaning his elbows on his knees casually with his hands clasped, looking over, "We'll have to attend the next game to see."

Michiko observed his thoughtful expression and caught the underlying implication within his statement. She sensed that the curious tone he spoke in meant that he was suggesting the next game they could attend, not the next game they had to attend. "Hang on, you want to participate in tonight's game?" She questioned.

"I believe the games hold the answers to understanding this world. In order to gather more information, we should continue to participate. That’s the only way I see us discovering how this world actually works," He explained his reasoning.

Shaking her head with a scoff, Michiko argued back, "We still have four days left on our visas. Why would you want to risk your life again if you don't have to?"

"The more we know about these games, the more we can understand how to beat them." Chishiya said simply, his tone remaining calm as if that statement was the most obvious thing in the world. He was sure of himself, as if he had all the answers locked away inside his mind. Michiko didn't like that. In her experience, people who thought they knew everything tended to believe they were above everyone else. And she had already had enough of people thinking they were above her in her life.

"Well, what if I don't want to put my life on the line when it's unnecessary?" She asked.

"I didn't say you had to come with me." Was all Chishiya said in response, turning away from her. “Your survival isn’t my responsibility, remember?”  Michiko could tell the conversation had ended there, leaving an unresolved one-sided tension between the two, as Michiko's distaste for the man's indifference grew. She had known the blonde for not even twenty-four hours, and he was already insufferable.

She picked herself up from the armchair, grabbing her backpack and skateboard, throwing a last comment back at him before walking away, "Do what you want, but I'm not that suicidal."

♤♡◇♧

The noon sun shone down upon the streets of Tokyo, the city unusually silent, absent of the hustle and bustle of everyday life. All that interrupted the silence once again were the wheels of Michiko's skateboard rolling on the cement roads. Leisurely skating down the empty streets, she enjoyed the ability to freely roam almost as much as she disliked the silence. A lollipop was stuck in her mouth as she scanned the storefronts of a small shopping district.

Everything was quiet, unnervingly so. Without the people milling about, the city was silent. And she hated it. Hated the paranoia it caused. Hated that it made her think. Hated that it caused her darker thoughts to come to the forefront without noise to distract her mind. She often drifted off back into her childhood, back into times where things were still happy. Before it was all torn to shreds. She twisted her ring as she thought of her mother, her kind smile and her joyous laugh, only remembered in a single photograph tucked away in her backpack. Of her father who-

No, she refused to think of him. Of the man who ruined everything and ripped her happiness away from her. He wasn't her father. She didn't consider him as such after all he did. She forced her thoughts back to the present, trying not to get lost within the quiet.

She stopped abruptly as something caught her eye. A vintage record store, the door propped open by a box of records. If there was one thing she missed in this strange, abandoned version of the world, it was music. With electricity out of commission, and her iPod dead, she could no longer just pop her headphones in to drown out the silence. She entered the store, admiring the rows of boxes filled to the brim with records.

As she walked further down the aisles, she noticed something in the back corner. Propped up on the table, was an old record player, the type with a hand crank that you turn to get it to play. A Gramophone she believed it was called.

There was a record already on the turntable, so she turned the crank at the side before taking the needle and placing it on the record. As it began turning, a song began playing, the sound tinny and metallic as it was played through the old record player. A warmth spread through her as she listened to the older tune, a song in English that she could barely understand. But that didn't matter, the sound broke through the silence of this world, bringing a little warmth back into it, despite her current circumstances. She sat against the table, letting the music flow through her, escaping reality for just a moment.

♤♡◇♧

Michiko stayed in that store for the majority of the day, switching out records once they had played through to completion. When she was hungry, she ate the snacks she had stashed away in her backpack. The only time she left was when she got bored and explored the bookstore across the street to find something to read. And so, she whittled away the hours reading and listening to music, not paying attention to the world going on outside, staying in the bubble of protection she had created.

Once she had read through the book, she looked out of the store windows to see the sun starting to set, the night beginning to settle over the city. She stood from her little den she had created, moving to the door, feeling the nightly breeze sweeping through, prickling at the hair on her arms. An uneasiness came over her, constricting her throat and unsettling her stomach. With the night came the games.

As if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the gramophone shut off with a staticky sound, the song being interrupted. Michiko looked back at it, before turning her attention back out to the streets as the night air befell them.

Grabbing her backpack, she left the store hurriedly, packing her book away as she did so. She needed to get back to her and Chishiya's campsite. She knew he most likely wouldn't be there, considering his interest in the games, and wanting to participate in one tonight. But she would at least have some security there. 

She suddenly remembered his words, about how the games may hold information to understanding this world.

Thinking back to the previous night's one, she pondered about the other players who attended, remembering their words and actions. From the way they spoke about the games and this world, it seemed like they had experience in them. Perhaps they knew how they worked. Perhaps there were people who had been trapped in this place for longer than she had and knew more about it. Perhaps Chishiya was right, and by attending the games, finding other players, they could learn more about this world.

As if the world wanted to reflect her conflicting thoughts, and as the night got darker, an electronic billboard lit up in front of her, with the same message as the previous night, tempting her into the dangerous fold of the games. It directed her towards the nearest arena. Searching in the direction the billboard was sending her, she could see the glow from the game venue lighting up the pitch black sky like a beacon, encouraging the moth to the flame.

She stood there for a few moments, contemplating her options. It should’ve been an easy choice. She could go back to camp, guaranteed to live on another day. She still had her visa, so she didn't have to play tonight. She could relax, safe away from danger, and wait for Chishiya to come back, potentially with some new information about the games.

On the other hand, she could risk her life, enter a game, and double the information gathered. But was it worth her life? Logically she knew it wasn't. It wasn't necessary for her at this point, she could wait until the last day of her visa until she had to play again.

But there was something inside of her, a traitorous voice compelling her towards that game venue. Her life hung in the balance, and she was tipping over to the side of risk. Without hesitation, and without a second glance back, her feet carried her forward, towards the nearest glow of light. Moth to the flame. 

She found herself at an apartment complex, at least fifteen stories high. It was lit up on the outside, and on the inside, making it a beacon for all hopeful players tonight. Michiko paused, as the weight of the situation came down on her once again. She watched a man in a smart shirt that was marred in sweat and dirt, out of breath, run into the building, shouting for a companion behind him, a woman in her thirties in a similarly office-appropriate shirt and pencil skirt. They hurried inside the entrance of the complex, passing the almost invisible borderline that trapped them inside the game.

This was her last chance, her final opportunity to turn around and leave it for another few days. She gulped, steeling herself before heading towards the entrance. To hell with it, she thought to herself. At least there would be no one to mourn her if she died. She doubted anyone in the real world even knew she was missing; didn't know she was trapped inside this different reality. No one would miss her.

She entered the complex, letting the doors swing shut behind her, feeling a chill run down her spine as she crossed the line. There was no backing out now. She had to complete the game in order to live. Life or death hung in the balance, a scale weighing heavily on her shoulders that could tip in favour of either side at a moment's notice.

Scanning the inside of the building, she noticed a short flight of steps leading up to a reception area, covered in postal boxes belonging to each apartment. The lighting inside was dim, some of the overheads flickering. There was a fairly large group waiting inside the reception area, some of them on their own, some in pairs, some in groups. All of their eyes shifted around, uncomfortably examining all of the other participants, as if searching for potential threats. Michiko was stunned for a moment, seeing this many people in one place after spending hours exploring empty streets with only herself for company. Everyone had their designated phones in hand, and on some of the screens Michiko could see the count down reaching to one minute before the game began. With that reminder, she made her way up the stairs, spying a table in the middle of the reception area, with about ten more phones stacked upon it. She hurried over and picked one up, before turning to be met with a gasp and a familiar face.

"It's you?" He was no longer wearing his blue polo, but rather a red plaid shirt this time around, his glasses still situated on the ridge of his nose. It was Arata from the previous night's game. Michiko then turned her eyes to the figure beside him. Make that two familiar faces. Hajime still wore the same orange patterned Hawaiian shirt. She blinked in surprise at seeing the two of them.

"Ah," Michiko said softly, "It's you two."

"Didn't expect to see you again so soon." Hajime commented gruffly, crossing his arms.

Michiko looked at him blankly, "Well, my friend," that was certainly an exaggeration, Chishiya was definitely not a friend at this point, it was just easier to refer to him as such, "convinced me there was some use in playing tonight's game. I could also say the same for you." She shrugged.

"Well," Arata turned to Hajime and the two shared a look, communicating silently between them, as if trying to hide something from her, "We also had reasons to play tonight."

Michiko studied the two, as they failed to meet her eye. She then noticed a detail she hadn't the previous night. There were blue numbered locker keys around their wrists, the sort you would find in either a gym or swimming pool. Strange, she thought to herself, before scanning the other game participants. There were a couple of others spread around with the same wristbands on. That was a detail she stored away in the back of her mind, the uniformity of it piquing her interest.

"I guess we've all got our reasons then," Was all she said, before registering with the phone. The automated voice chimed in, informing her that the facial recognition was a success, and that there were thirty more seconds before registration closed.

The door swung open loudly on its hinges as another participant joined, the noise interrupting the tense silence amongst the uneasy group of people. There was something Michikko recognised about the strained voice as he called out to the group, "Hey, can anyone explain what's going on? Where did everyone go?"

Michiko withheld her gasp as the figure stepped into the reception area, confusion splayed across his face, still in uniform, greying hair all askew. The man looked around everyone, before laying his eyes on her, recognition sweeping across his features. "Michiko?" He called out.

And Michiko just stared at him in surprise, not expecting to ever run across this man again.

"Officer Nakajima?"

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 2

♤♡◇♧

When it came to Officer Nakajima, Michiko always had mixed feelings. The man was kind-hearted, had natural fatherly instincts, and never treated her as though she was less than. She hated it. She also hated the silent sneers and paranoid glances people had always sent her way when they recognised her name and who she was related to. But it was all she had ever known for five years. All she was used to. 

Officer Nakajima had been an exception, always offering her a kind hand anytime she was brought into the precinct for breaking the law. He had always extended his help in getting her out of trouble. She didn’t know why he even made the effort. But he continuously did so, without asking for anything in return, which had always made her uneasy around the man. 

It was human nature after all, to expect something in return for extending a hand in favour of someone else. Humanity was selfish that way. And that was something that would never change.

Eventually, she had accepted the fact that he never wanted anything in return. Officer Nakajima was different from the rest of humanity that way.

He was the exception.

As the two former acquaintances stared each other down, there was a sense of relief beginning to rise in Michiko at seeing the old officer. That was drowned out however, by the dread building in her gut. As much as it gladdened her to finally see a familiar face, she was also horrified at the prospect of participating in life-threatening games with someone she held some form of care for. No matter how small.

Of what she had learned so far of these games, they were brutal, and you didn't know what they held in store until they began. She didn't fully understand them yet and didn't know what they could potentially entail.

"Michiko? What's going on?" Officer Nakajima asked her in a low tone, eyeing the people who stood around them warily. Taking note of the other participants and being conscious of their eyes on her and the older officer, Michiko strode over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him over to the table of phones as he protested. Grabbing one, she handed it over to the confused man.

"Take this," She demanded, taking a glance at her own to see that they didn't have long until registration closed, and the game began, "I don't have time to explain everything, but you'll understand what's happening soon enough. Just listen to the instructions.”

Officer Nakajima stuttered, looking between the phone and Michiko, until eventually the younger girl got tired of his fumbling and grabbed his hand, pushing it up so the phone was in front of his face. The device chimed, stating the facial recognition had worked. The officer looked even more bewildered, trying to find the right words to ask, when the phone counted down the last few seconds. Everyone turned to their phones in anticipation, the caution permeating the air.

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED

THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE

GAME: THE CHASE

DIFFICULTY: 4 OF SPADES

From around the room, there were a few collective sighs of relief, but equally as many groans. Michiko looked at the text on the phone as she pondered. The last game was diamonds, she thought to herself, this one is spades, so just what does that mean? Looking over to her right, Michiko spotted Arata, who looked troubled as Hajime placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"It's okay, we'll make it, just stick by me." He reassured him. Michiko went to ask them just what it meant by spades, in an attempt to get answers from the two people she knew would potentially give her them. But before she could, Officer Nakajima spoke up from her left.

"Michiko," the man whispered, as he watched the other participants, particularly the ones who began moving. One man began rolling and cracking his neck, stretching out his arms. A woman was facing the wall, stretching out the back of her legs. They looked like they were gearing up for a physical challenge, and Michiko began thinking she may have figured out what Spades meant.

"Just listen carefully to the game's instructions," Michiko told the man, "And whatever you hear, try not to panic. I'll try and explain everything properly later."

The phone chimed, and Michiko listened closely, as the voice explained the rules of the game.

ATTENTION PLAYERS

YOU HAVE BEEN TRAPPED INSIDE THIS APARTMENT BUILDING

WITH A GROUP OF KILLERS

YOU WILL BE GIVEN A FIVE MINUTE HEAD START TO HIDE

ONCE THE TIME RUNS OUT, THE KILLERS WILL BEGIN HUNTING YOU DOWN

IF YOU ARE CAUGHT, IT WILL BE GAME OVER

There was a collection of sounds emitting from the group, as those who were participating in their first game let out mumbles of confusion. "Killers?" A high school girl just older than Michiko asked, "what does it mean by killers?" No one answered her question. Those who had already experienced the games had grim expressions on their faces. But no one spoke up to let her know what was happening. Survival of the fittest. The inherent selfish nature of humans prevented them from reaching out their hand to aid the girl.

CLEAR CONDITION

SURVIVE THE DURATION OF THE GAME WITHOUT BEING CAUGHT BY THE KILLERS

THE GAME WILL LAST AN HOUR

THOSE NOT CAUGHT BY THE KILLERS BY THE END OF THAT TIME WILL CLEAR THE GAME

"Survival of the fittest huh?" Arata commented wryly, Hajime humming beside him. Michiko noted everything they were saying. Her mind was going a mile a minute, trying to process everything she'd learned so far, but also trying to keep her focus on the current game. The two glanced at her and began whispering between themselves, causing a nervous bubbling in her stomach.

HEADSTART BEGINS NOW

As soon as the phone chimed, a countdown from five minutes appeared on the screens. There was instant activity amongst the group of participants. Some ran off with panicked scuffling. Some remained calm - as calm as one could in the current situation - and went off to find somewhere in the building to hide. The schoolgirl stayed where she was, looking around terrified, trying to catch somebody's attention.

Michiko remained where she was, waiting for the space to clear so she could look around and think of a plan. She felt a hand grip her arm, and she instinctively tugged it away, turning to face the unknown culprit who'd grabbed her. It was Arata, who quickly held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry," he apologised, "but Hajime and I were talking, and we were thinking, maybe we should team up. You helped us in the last game, so maybe we could help you in return." He reasoned.

Michiko regarded him warily, as she looked between him and Hajime, who stood, glancing around nervously, as if waiting for the killer to suddenly leap out from around the corner and take them by surprise. He seemed sincere, and Michiko had been considering questioning them about the games anyway. This way, she had time with them to ask them about what they knew and had extra hands to help her survive. She nodded. "Sounds good to me," She affirmed.

Then she remembered Officer Nakajima. The older man didn't know anything about the games. He didn't know the full situation and what was at risk. She turned to him, the man still taking in his surroundings and watching the other participants with confusion, and said, "as long as he comes with." Just like Arata and Hajime were returning the favour, she would pass it on for all the help Officer Nakajima had given her in the past.

Arata and Hajime turned to look at each other, the former looking like he was considering the options. Hajime sent the other man a disbelieving look, until Arata nodded down at Nakajima's waist. Michiko turned to look alongside Hajime, to note that as well as wearing his uniform, the officer still had his police-issued firearm tucked away by his side.

Upon seeing the weapon, Hajime's eyes lit up as he looked back at Arata, nodding. "Okay," he told Michiko, "I guess your friend and his gun could come in handy." With that, they turned to the dark stairway, heading up the floors. Michiko turned back, grabbing Officer Nakajima, who cried out in protest and dragged him along, following behind the two men. "We should stick to the stairwells," Hajime called back to them all, "that way, if we come across any of the killers, we shouldn't get cornered."

He then went back to discussing plans quietly with Arata, whilst Officer Nakajima finally got over his bewilderment and doubled down on questioning Michiko. "Just what is going on? What's this about killers? And where did everyone in the city go? I was on patrol when they all suddenly disappeared."

Michiko swallowed, before finally answering his questions, "to put it simply, we've all ended up in some alternate world, and we have to clear this game, or we die."

There was a moment of pause as Nakajima processed her words, before he let out a chuckle. "Ah, you were always a good joker Michiko." He let out a sigh of disbelief, shaking his head, "you almost had me with that one."

The younger girl turned back to face him, her face serious, no hint of humour in her eyes. "You think I'm joking? Tell that to the women who I watched get a hole lasered through her skull yesterday for trying to leave a game."

Officer Nakajima stared at her in shock. He saw no lie in Michiko's eyes, that much she couldn acertain from watching realisation flciker in his eyes. The older man had known the girl for a couple of years now, as she was always in and out the station, and he was the only one with enough patience to deal with her. She knew that he knew when she was lying. "You- you aren't joking?"

"She isn't." Arata called out, "Hajime and I and another friend of ours have been stuck here for weeks. The games happen every night. The only way to survive is to play them and win. If you don't..." He trailed off, letting the silence speak for itself.

He and Hajime continued their way up the stairs, with Michiko trailing behind, Officer Nakajima rushing after them. "So, are there really people in this building trying to kill us?"

"Yes," Hajime called back, "once the head start finishes, they'll chase us down, and we have to hide or outrun them. That's what makes this a Spades game. Outrun the killers and survive."

"So, this is a Spades game. Yesterday we played a Diamonds game. What's the difference?" Michiko asked the question that had been on her mind since the start of the game, finally finding the opportunity to ask. 

It was Arata who answered her. "The games are all represented by playing cards. The number determines the difficulty. The suit tells us what type of game it is. A Spade game is a physical challenge," Michiko nodded having guessed that upon seeing the people limbering themselves up in the hallway, " Diamond relates to intelligence, a battle of wits if you will. There are two others, Clubs and Hearts . A Clubs game involves working as a team to complete the game. And the final one, Hearts ..."

" Hearts are the worst one," Hajime said bitterly, taking over from Arata, "It's a game of deception and betrayal. You don't want to get caught in that. Especially when you're with friends. They can be the most brutal of all."

There was a stretch of silence and Michiko noted the information given, tucking it away in the back of her mind to bring her focus back to the current game. She checked her phone, seeing that there was two minutes left of their head start. Within the time they had been talking, the group had climbed about eight stories of the building. It was there that they stopped.

"Okay, we're halfway up, this should be good enough. This way we won't be cornered, we have three different directions we can head if a killer comes for us." Arata informed everyone, turning to face the rest of the group, "I took a look at the building plan downstairs, there's another stairwell at the other end of the building. If you have to go out into the hallway at any point, head to the other one, don’t waste time trying to find an open apartment. We'll hide out here as long as we can.”

Hajime looked at Officer Nakajima, pointing to his firearm. "You may want to keep that ready. If we get cornered, we may have to fight back." Officer Nakajima nodded, unclipping his holster and keeping his hand on his gun, poised and ready. "In fact, it would be good for us all to find a weapon. If you come across something you can use, pick it up. We don't know how many killers there may be, or what weapons they may have. Best to be prepared. Avoid the elevators, you don't want to get trapped with no way out."

"You've still got your knife, right?" Arata asked.

Hajime nodded, taking a small switchblade from his pocket.

The group waited in tense silence, watching the countdown on their phones trickle down to zero. Once it reached the last ten seconds, Michiko gulped, her breathing becoming heavier. She was beginning to regret the decision to come to the game, despite the vital information that she had learned. Despite having run into Officer Nakajima. She could've been back at her and Chishiya's little camp in the shopping mall, in bed, trying to pretend that this all was a very terrifying nightmare, that the games weren't real. That she would wake up back on the streets of Tokyo and go about her day like nothing happened, continuing her life of delinquency. 

But here she was, about to be hunted down by an unknown number of killers, whose mission it was to take her life. She would just have to survive the hour, and then she could go. And she wouldn't play another game until her visa ran out if she could help it.

A hand on her shoulder brought her out of her spiraling thoughts, and she turned to see Officer Nakajima giving her a reassuring look. He was trying to comfort her, despite his own uneasiness that she could see reflected in his eyes.

They watched the timer hit zero, the phone chiming, the sound echoing off the walls.

GAME START

♤♡◇♧

On an unknown floor in the apartment building, a young high-school girl shuffled down the corridor. Her trembling hands clutched a phone to her chest, her wide eyes darting around at every little sound. There was a clatter down the hall behind her, and she swung around to look, her short dark hair flying round her face, strands of it getting caught on her sweaty forehead. She tried to find the cause of the sound, unaware of the shadow creeping up on her. The shadow lifted its arm, a metal pipe raised up above its head, poised and ready to strike.

The girl turned back around, letting out a terrified screech as the pipe was brought down with deadly force.

♤♡◇♧

Not even five minutes into the game, the tense atmosphere amongst the group was interrupted by a loud scream coming from a few floors above them. Michiko gasped at the sound, her breathing quickening once again. The scream was abruptly cut off. By what? They didn't know.

Hajime held a finger up to his lips as he guarded the door into the corridor next to them, his brow shiny with sweat, his fingers trembling slightly as they gripped his switchblade tightly. The group remained silent, listening out for any sound that might indicate the killer's location.

There was a heavy thud coming from the corridor, as heavy footsteps got closer to their location. Hajime's hand tightened on his knife, and Officer Nakajima gripped his gun at his side. Everyone remained tense, ready to bolt at any sign of danger. They listened as the footsteps passed by the door, and Michiko covered her mouth to try and quiet her breathing as they stopped directly in front of the door they hid behind.

The group stood still, trying not to give away any sign of their location. For a minute, everything became silent, a static ringing taking over Michiko’s ears. Then, the footsteps continued on, down the hallway. Eventually, they heard a door opening on the other side of the corridor. Whoever it was on the other side of the door had gone down the other set of stairs. The group let out quiet sighs of relief, their bodies sagging as the tension left.

Their relief only lasted a couple of moments, as panicked shouts reached their ears. A door a couple of flights above them burst open. The screams echoed down the stairs, getting closer to their location, and they watched as at least five other participants ran down the stairs as if hell itself was on their tail. One of them, a middle-aged businessman, grabbed the closest person, which was Michiko, and shoved her back towards the flight of stairs he came down from.

"Michiko!" Officer Nakajima called out as she fell.

The young girl winced as she hit her head off the stairs, vision going blurry. Her disoriented eyes looked up the stairs as footsteps reached her ears, and dread washed over her, freezing her skin. On the steps above her stood a tall figure in a large overcoat. Their face was covered by a black balaclava and ski goggles, hiding any identifyingly human features. Just a sinister dark shadow looming over her, with a metal pipe gripped in their gloved hand, viscous read liquid dripping from it onto the cold concrete below. She was frozen still, her breath hitched in her throat as the figure swung the pipe above their head, intending to bring it down upon her.

They were halted in their tracks by the deafening sound of a gun, and the bullet hit the figure in the shoulder, knocking them back with the impact. Hands grabbed Michiko's shoulders and lifted her, and she was forced down the stairs by Hajime, following behind Arata as Officer Nakajima took up the rear, firing back a couple of times, the shots unfortunately missing their target.

She looked back, seeing the bullet had done nothing to deter the pursuit of their attacker, as they followed them, long strides keeping the figure tight upon their tail. The group ran down a couple of flights, before piling into the next corridor instead of going further down, intending on reaching the other stairwell.

Only they were cut off as Arata crashed into another tall figure dressed similarly to their previous pursuer. The man's slimmer build caused him to stumble to the ground as he was caught off guard. Hajime let out a yell and tackled the killer, only to be thrown off easily, landing near Michiko. His switchblade skittered down the hall, out of sight.

Officer Nakajima brought his gun up and fired, only for it to click, no bullets emerging from the blocked chamber. He let out a curse, as the killer reached him in his distraction, knocking the gun from his hand and bringing up a crowbar, using it to knock Officer Nakajima to the ground with a hit to the head.

The killer brought up his weapon to finish the job when Arata grabbed his arm to prevent him from landing the blow, shouting to Michiko and Hajime, who stood numbly as they watched the chaos unfolding. "Go!" He yelled.

"Not without you!" Hajime called back from behind her, clutching his ribs.

The killer who had attacked them in the stairwell then also appeared, and Officer Nakajima rose to his feet, tackling the other killer to keep them away from Michiko and Hajime. "Go!" The older cop also ordered, "We'll catch up to you!"

"Take the kid and run!" Arata shouted, as he struggled to fend off his attacker. Michiko shook her head as she watched Officer Nakajima fend off the attacker, the assailant and the cop coming to a stalemate in terms of strength. But the older man was injured and breathing heavily. Michiko couldn't help but think he would be overpowered. And the thought frightened her to the bone, not wishing the older officer to be killed.

Hajime let out a shout of frustration. “You better follow right behind us Kento!” He yelled before grabbing Michiko and running towards the other stairwell. "No!" The girl protested. "No, we can't leave them!" Officer Nakajima may have been a pain in her ass in the real world, but that didn't mean she wanted to leave him behind to die.

Hajime dragged her into the stairwell and up a couple of flights, Michiko trying to break free from his hold the whole time, crying out for the officer and Arata.

Eventually Hajime threw her harshly against the wall, her head bouncing off it as he covered her mouth, preventing her from shouting.

"Shut it kid. Do you want to alert every killer to our location?" He rasped, putting his finger up to his lip. Michiko looked at him, with eyes full of unshed tears, and the man looked back at her, both desperate and frustrated. Once the girl had quietened down, Hajime continued. "Now, I know Arata. He's a survivor. He's found his way out of more difficult situations. And your cop friend. He seems pretty strong I'll admit." He took a steadying breath, calming the harsh note in his voice before continuing, "They are not dying, and neither are we, okay?"

Seeing the sincerity and hope in the older man's eyes, Michiko nodded. Hajime also didn't want to leave his friend behind, but he put his faith in Arata. Michiko needed to do the same with Officer Nakajima. They would make it out of this.

But then Michiko looked behind Hajime, her eyes widening in terror. With her mouth covered, she couldn't warn him, and Hajime noticed the girl's fear far too late. Michiko was helpless to watch as the crowbar was brought down onto Hajime's head, warm liquid spraying over her face, and the man's body crumpled. The attacker kept going, bringing the crowbar down onto Hajime's head over and over again, until his face was unrecognizable, and a pool of deep red blood surrounded him, soaking into Michiko's shoes.

Michiko brought her shaky hands up to her mouth at the violent scene. She had barely known the man, but he had only wanted to help her. Wanted to return the favour for the previous night's game. And now... now he wasn't making it out of this one. He was dead, on the floor at her feet, head bashed into the ground.

She watched through tears as the figure looming above Hajime's body turned its head on her, the tall figure backing her into the corner as she stumbled backwards. She eyed the crowbar, already soaked in the blood of its victims, held tight in the figure's gloved hands.

And she was that little girl again. Coming home from school and finding her mother sprawled on the living room floor. Blood pooling from the multiple stab wounds. Her sneakers becoming soaked in blood as it reached her tiny feet.

So, this was how she would die. In a similar violent manner as her mother had. In some mysterious fucked up reality. Where no one would know. Where no one would even care. A sad ending for a sad life. At least, she thought to herself, there would be no one who would miss her. It was some small comfort.

Michiko closed her eyes as the crowbar was lifted and brought down towards her head.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 2

♤♡◇♧

Arata had never been physically strong. He had some muscle from working with machinery, but it wasn’t enough to help in a fight. His quiet disposition also didn’t help him in fending off the bullies in his life. The first one’s were his parents. Then his brother. Then the boy’s from high school who had caught wind of his… difference . He couldn’t escape the bullies even in this world. In this place of lawlessness, where there were little rules, the bullies became even more violent in nature. 

Facing down the killers hadn’t been his first choice. The coward inside of him wished to run. To follow Hajime and Michiko. But part of him would hate himself for leaving behind the officer to fend for himself. 

The killer with the crow bar head butted him as soon as he lost sight of Hajime and Michiko, the two escaping into the stairwell much to his relief. That relief was short-lived when he crumpled to the ground, head aching and vision becoming dizzy on the impact. He caught sight of the dark shadow standing over him, awaiting the sharp impact of the weapon. Instead of finishing him off however, the figure turned to the door of the stairwell, and stalked off.

Arata’s heart flipped in panic, and he pulled himself up against the wall wanting to follow. The killer was going after Hajime and Michiko. A yell from behind pulled his attention away from the disappearing killer, to find the Officer still struggling against the second assailant.

His mind was trapped in confliction. To go after Hajime or to stay and help officer Nakajime. Looking back an forth between both scenes, he let out a frustrated grunt before pulling up behind the killer, grabbing their arm to prevent them from bringing down their weapon upon the older man. Officer Nakajima nodded a quick thanks, before wrenching the metal pipe from the killer’s hand, and whacking them over the head with trained force. 

The figure slumped down, arm ceasing in its struggle to pull away from Arata’s grip, and he let the limb go, watching their legs crumple and their body hit the floor with a thud. 

Arata could feel the adrenaline heightening the rush of blood in his veins, sighing in relief as he watched the figure go still. Catching his breath, he turned to the Officer, who looked upon the body with a gaze he couldn’t quite disecern. There was pity, but also resignation.

“We need to go quickly,” Arata spilled out, “The other one whent after Hajime and Michiko.”

The Officer’s eyes snapped to his, an unfiltered panic stirring up within them. “Let’s go then,” He said grimly, nodding to Arata who took the lead, racing to the opposing stairwell to chase after the killer.

Arata only hoped they weren’t too late, heart racing in anxiousness. Please be alive Hajime.

He didn’t recognise him at first. All Arata saw was the deep crimson staining the concrete floors and splattered across the walls in a grim scene of unnecessary violence. But the orange Hawaiian shirt, soaked in the man’s blood told him whose body it was that lay limp of the floor, the life draining out of it. 

Arata’s heart dropped. And then his blood boiled.

♤♡◇♧

A furious yell echoed in the stairwell, distracting the killer from landing their final blow. Michiko opened her eyes to watch the looming figure get tackled away from her by despairing Arata, who jumped onto the fallen attacker, landing punches into their masked face.

She watched through teary eyes, her breath ragged, as a blurry figure stood in front of her, shaking her shoulders. She could just hear her name being called, but the sound was faint and far away, trying to break through the ringing in her ears. Coming out of her stupor, she saw Officer Nakajima in front of her, shouting at her to snap out of it. She took in his face, the weary lines, the panic in his eyes. Blood was dripping down from a cut to his forehead.

"Come on Michiko. Snap out of it girl, we need to run!" The older man grabbed her arm, dragging her up the stairs. He looked back, calling to Arata, "Come on boy!"

Arata looked up from his position, tears streaming down his face as he got up, leaving the attacker's limp form on the stairs. He looked down at the figure of his friend. His brave friend who had helped him through all of the games they played together. In his head, Hajime was always going to be the one to survive all of what they went through. Now he lay dead on the ground of an abandoned apartment building, face unrecognisable. Another victim to the games. It was a situation he ever even deigned to imagine.

He let out a sob, before managing to drag his eyes away from the body as he heard the pounding footsteps coming from below them on the stairs. He followed behind the officer and Michiko.

The trio ran up another flight of stairs and piled out into one of the hallways. They had lost track of what floor they were on, but that didn't matter for the moment. For now, they needed to find somewhere to hide. Michiko almost stumbled over another body lying in the middle of the floor, head caved in similarly to Hajime's. It was the school girl from the reception. The oen who had begged the other players fot help. Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked down at yet another victim claimed, the unshed tears finally trailing down her face. 

"Keep going." Officer Nakajima said to her gently, pushing her to keep moving from the sight.

"We- we need to find somewhere to hide." Arata managed to stutter out. "Check the apartment doors, see if there's any open." Even in the face of personal tragedy, he still thought logically, trying to find a solution for them to survive. Michiko found it admirable. As they made their way down the hall, they tried the door handles of the apartments, none of them budging. They kept quiet, choking back their sobbing so they could listen out for the heavy footsteps of their pursuers.

When they reached the other end of the hallway without success with any of the doors, they regathered. A chime echoed out from their phones.

TIME REMAINING

THIRTY MINUTES

"What do we do?" Michiko whispered to the other two. The trio stood outside the door to the left stairwell, trying to figure out their next move.

Officer Nakajima let out a quiet cough, before speaking up, "We need to keep moving until we can find somewhere to hide. We go down each floor, quietly. We keep an ear out for any noise of the attackers. If we hear them, we move in the opposite direction. Okay?" He looked at his two younger companions, tearful and bloody, and felt his stomach twist. They were only kids compared to him, and they had to witness such brutality.

He decided he would defend them with his life if it came to it.

Michiko and Arata nodded hesitantly, trying to calm their breathing. Nakajima put his hand on the doorknob, opening a crack in the doorway and peering through it. In the fluorescent stair lights, he saw nothing. No shadows ready to jump out at them. No large figures with metal weapons. With a shushing motion directed to Michiko and Arata, he slipped through, allowing them to follow.

Several stories below, they heard panicked shouts and rushed footsteps. The heavy clanking footsteps of an attacker followed.

"They're going down the way." Nakajima whispered. "We'll go up to the next floor and try there."

They moved slowly, trying not to let their steps echo off the stairwell walls. Michiko flinched at any sound that travelled up to their location, restraining herself from looking back. To keep moving forward. To not think about Hajime lying in a pool of his own blood, to be left there for who knows how long. To not think about his sticky blood currently drying on her face.

She tried her best to ignore the pulsing pain in her head, that was beginning to seep through her nerves now that some of the adrenaline was wearing off. She just kept her focus on the back of Officer Nakajima's head. They were over halfway through the game. They could still make it.

They made it up to the next floor, Michiko estimated around the eleventh or twelfth floor, just a few from the top of the building. Creeping into the hallway, they found it empty, and immediately set to work with trying each apartment door. They were unlucky again. None of the doors would budge.

They repeated the process, silently going out into the stairwell. Michiko took a peek over the railing, making sure the coast was clear. Her heart leapt into her throat when he saw the shadow, just a couple of flights down. They stood still, as if contemplating whether to go up or down. And just slightly further down, she could make out the pool of blood that would lead to Hajime's body.

But this wasn't the same attacker, not Hajime's killer. This one held a bloody metal pipe instead of a crowbar. The original one that had come across them and began all of this chaos.

Michiko stepped back, out of sight, grabbing at Officer Nakajima's arm. She tried to keep her breathing steady and quiet, to not alert the killer of their location. The older officer looked at her in question, and she pointed down, alerting him of the threat that stood just below them.

Nakajima took a quick glance over the railing, and then nodded affirmatively. Behind them, Arata gulped, not braving a look, knowing what he would also see.

They continued up the way, keeping their steps light, trying not to make any sound, and made it to the door leading to the next hallway. Nakajima tried to open it slowly to let his two companions slip through. The metal door squeaked on its hinges, the sound almost deafening in the near silence, and they all held their breath.

A moment of silence.

Then loud stomps on the stairs began to follow them up, and they rushed out into the hall. Michiko went to try the doorknobs, desperate to find a place to hide, but Arata grabbed her arm and pulled her down the hall to the other stairwell. "No time." He rasped out. They bypassed three other bodies in the hallway, and Michiko did her best not to look at them as they passed.

They reached the other stairwell. They heard more footsteps approaching on the other side. The trio looked back and forth between the two doors as the killers closed in on their location, trapping them like rabbits. The three of them tried to figure out a way past this, to escape being caught and butchered. Officer Nakajima held his gun close. Although it was empty of bullets, he could still use it as a melee weapon in a sticky situation. He placed himself in front of the younger two, ready to defend them with his life if necessary.

That was when Michiko saw it. Behind one of the bodies, a doorway that was slightly ajar. Hope lighting up in her chest, she ran to it, as the other two quietly protested, and she began trying to pry it open. But the body in the way was far too heavy and her muscles strained as the door kept getting jammed. Seeing what she was trying to do, Nakajima and Arata moved instantly. With surprising strength for his age, Nakajima dragged the body out of the way with a little help from the younger boy. Without the obstruction, the door swung open with ease, and the three piled in, Nakajima pulling the door shut quietly behind him.

As he did so, they heard the door further down the corridor burst open, and their pursuer strode into the corridor with heavy, ominous steps. The trio held their breath as they listened to the footsteps pound their way, getting closer with each one.

The room they found themselves in was a small supply closet, with just enough room for them all to be bunched in like sardines. Arata held onto Michiko as they both trembled, Michiko clutching and twisting at her mother's ring with shaky hands. She could feel the heat of Arata’s breath on her neck, causing her to shiver. Looking up, she watched Officer Nakajima in the dim light of the cupboard. He held the door closed with one hand, whilst the other clutched at his gun, ready to use it if needed.

They stayed silent, listening to the footsteps pass by, just waiting to hear the pounding on the door that would inevitably come any second. Only it didn't. The footsteps continued past their location, and they heard the other door swing open and shut.

They let out a collective sigh of relief, bodies deflating as the tension passed. Michiko jumped out of her skin, gasping when their phones chimed.

TIME REMAINING

FIFTEEN MINUTES

The sound of the phones was so loud that Michiko was certain their pursuer had heard and was coming back to finish them off. She sucked in her breath once again, everyone falling silent as they waited to hear the pounding of footsteps doubling back on their location. But the hallway outside remained silent and they all relaxed.

"Okay," Officer Nakajima finally whispered to his two younger companions, "If we stay here until the time runs out, we should be fine. We just need to stay quiet." Michiko and Arata nodded in understanding, Michiko bringing her phone out to watch the countdown. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly, and goosebumps rose in the face of paranoia.

But now that they had time to calm themselves, the truth of what had just occurred not too long ago finally hit Arata. The young man began breathing heavily, and brought his hand to his mouth, tears beginning to stream down his face. "He- He's gone," He choked out. He looked over at Michiko, saw the dried spray of blood on her face and let out a trembling sob, "He can't- He can't be gone. No, no no no. He promised. He promised we'd stay together."

Michiko felt her eyes grow hot, tears beginning to well at watching Arata, composed, focused Arata from the Pandora’s Box game break down. His best friend was dead, and she had watched on and done nothing. She saw the light leave his eyes as the crowbar was brought down, ending his life far too soon. Hajime had seemed so determined, so sure they would all make it out. And now he was gone.

Officer Nakajima grabbed at Arata's shoulders and gave him a shake. "Calm down boy." He ordered, his voice firm, yet still holding that fatherly compassion he'd used with Michiko before. "I know it's tough. I know. But we need to stay focused. We still need to get through the rest of this game." His hand cupped the back of Arata's neck, "So stay with me boy. Your friend would want you to survive this."

Sniffling, Arata wiped his tears away from under his glasses. The younger man and the older officer nodded to each other in understanding, before the elder went back to guarding the door and Arata attempted to stifle the hiccuping. 

Michiko couldn't find any words of comfort for Arata herself, but Officer Nakajima had already said what needed to be said. So, all she could do was reach out hesitantly and grab the older man's hand, squeezing gently. It was all she could offer at the time. After a moment of registering the contact, Arata squeezed back, a fresh wave of tears trailing silently down his cheeks.

And they waited, watching the seconds tick by. Each second the timer got closer to zero, they began to relax more, and Michiko was hopeful that they might make it out alive.

The phone chimed.

TIME REMAINING

FIVE MINUTES

The sudden sound of a door slamming open made them all jump. Having been lured into a false sense of security the closer the got to completing the game, Michiko let out a small, startled scream of fright at the unexpected noise, Arata quickly covering her mouth.

But it was too late. Whoever was in the hallway knew they were in there, and began rattling at the door handle and bashing the door to the supply closet with something heavy. Michiko guessed it was whatever weapon this attacker was carrying. The screeching of metal upon metal sent shivers down Michiko’s spine.

Officer Nakajima was doing his best to hold the door closed, but he was beginning to tire. The door was being pried open little by little, and Michiko caught glimpses of the tall, cloaked figure outside, clad in a long coat, balaclava and ski goggles like all of the other attackers. Officer Nakajima grunted as he strained to hold the door closed, but he eventually looked back at the other two cowering in the back of the small closet.

"I'm going to open this door on him, the force should knock him over. Whatever happens to me, you two head for the nearest stairwell. And keep moving. Do not get caught!" Michiko shook her head, not wanting another death on her shoulders during this game. But Arata grabbed her arm, nodding to the officer, who counted down. "Three, two, one!"

He shoved the door open, using the attacker's momentum, knocking him back. Arata ran with Michiko, who looked back at Officer Nakajima as the two younger ones rushed away. The older officer was intercepted, as the attacker quickly got to their feet, catching Nakajima's arm as they tried to bring their weapon down onto his head.

The two fist-fought, as Nakajima elbowed the attacker in the stomach. But the older man was no match in strength to the taller figure, and they knocked him to the ground, the gun skittering out of his hand down the opposite end of the corridor.

The attacker brought up their weapon, a metal baseball bat, intending to bring it down upon Officer Nakajima. On instinct, Michiko pried herself from Arata's grip and tackled the attacker at the wasit. But her smaller frame didn't do much more than make them stumble, and they easily threw her off, turning their sight on her. She crawled backwards as the figure loomed menacingly over her and swung the bat in the air. Only for Arata to intervene, as he grabbed at the attacker's arm, giving Officer Nakajima the opportunity to tackle the attacker into the wall.

They dropped the bat, and it rolled over to Michiko's feet. The girl scrambled to her knees, grabbing it, the handle still warm from the attacker's grip. The attacker pulled his arm from Arata's grip, smacking him across the head, and brought an elbow down onto Officer Nakajima's back. The older man's grip loosened, and the attacker switched their positions, shoving Officer Nakajima into the wall, putting their hands around his throat.

Officer Nakajima's breath came out in chokes, as he tried to draw in air, but the attacker was relentless and didn't give up on his grip.

Michiko watched as Officer Nakajima's face turned red and he spluttered from the lack of oxygen. Her eyes were glued upon the scene of the attacker looming over him as he choked the life out of the one person she could've called a friend. The one person who had looked out for her. The one person who cared just a little bit. The one person who believed she could be more than what she was. And she had never appreciated his efforts. And now, he was dying in front of her, willing to give up his life for her. She never realised just how much he had cared.

She was back in the living room. Her mother's blood pooling around her trainers. She was in the stairwell, watching Hajime's head get caved in. Lives that were cut unfairly short.

But she was not going to be that little girl again, afraid to move a muscle. Afraid to fight back. She had been running all of her life. It was time to stop. She wasn't going to let another person die that night.

And in that moment, something snapped inside Michiko. She saw red. All the anger that had been kept behind closed doors, never allowed to emerge for fear of being labelled a vicious beast like her father, was finally released. She gripped the baseball bat in both hands, and with a ferocious yell, swung it upwards against the attacker's head with all of her might. Upon the blow, they released Officer Nakajima, who slid down the wall, gasping for breath.

The attacker turned on her, but they were clearly disoriented from the hit, reaching out a gloved hand towards her. That didn't stop Michiko, as she swung the bat a second time, the attacker stumbling to the ground. Still, she didn't stop. She saw Hajime in her mind, the brutal way his life was ended. And she kept bringing the bat down, striking as many blows as Hajime had received and more. And she screamed as she did so. A guttural scream that had been held inside for years, a pain that had never been allowed to be expressed properly.

She snapped out of it when she felt hands on her arms, "Michiko! Michiko, stop! It's done!" She stopped screaming, her lapse in breath choking back the sound as she let the bat fall from her hands as she registered Officer Nakajima's now raspy voice. The older man brought her into his arms, shushing her as she looked down upon the scene with hyperventilating breaths. She saw the limp body of their attacker, blood pooling around their head, ski goggles cracked open, allowing a sliver of blood tainted skin to peek through. She looked down upon it, finally registering what she had done. The crime she had just committed. And she began to sob in officer Nakajima's arms, as he cradled her head to his chest.

The phone chimed, the automated voice ringing out mockingly.

GAME CLEAR

CONGRATULATIONS

It felt like a punch in the stomach, as Michiko realised, she would never be the same after this game.

♤♡◇♧

The trip back downstairs had been a silent affair, Officer Nakajima helping Michiko make her way down. Numbness had taken over inside the girl, distancing her from the warmth of the blood coating her hands, her shoes, her face. They came across Hajime's body, and Michiko couldn't bring herself to look at him. Arata had stayed a moment longer with his friend, telling them to continue on. They gave him his privacy, letting him say his final goodbyes.

Before they reached the reception area, they came across a couple more bodies. From the looks and sounds of things, the three of them had been the only survivors. There was no cheering or celebration ringing through the stairwells. No other sounds apart from their footsteps on the stairs. The only sight of note that Michiko brought herself to look at, was the body of another attacker they found in the stairwell. It was hunched against the wall, head hanging limply. A massive blood spatter painted the wall behind them. Michiko examined the sight through hooded eyes. It was strange. This attacker had died differently than everyone else. There was a glimpse of metal she caught around their beck before she was pulled away.

Officer Nakajima encouraged her to keep moving before she could examine the sight further. They continued down the rest of the way, reaching the reception area. The table that was previously occupied by the phones, now held a single playing card. The four of spades. Michiko stared down at it, having the sense that it was mocking her. The grand prize for everything she just went through. Her life, and a single piece of card.

She picked it up, shoving it in her pocket, not wanting to look at it any longer. The appearance of the cards after the game was clearly something of note, but she didn’t want to see it taunting her any longer.

She sat down on the step as they waited for Arata to finish up, not wanting to let the boy go off by himself after what just happened. And Michiko sunk into her thoughts.

She was beginning to understand these games a little more now. They were a test of how far human beings were willing to go to survive. How far their morals could be pushed to the limits. It was only her second game and she had already taken a life. This wasn't how she imagined spending her teenage years, becoming a killer. She was happy enough with petty theft and general delinquency. But then she ended up in this place. This place that tested their humanity. She wondered how many games it would take before she was completely stripped of her morals, by choice or by force.

She didn't know if she would be able to live in a place like this for long.

Feeling a warm presence beside her, she didn't have to turn to know it was Officer Nakajima. "You did what you had to," He said softly, trying not to startle the girl beside him.

Michiko said nothing, just continued staring forward with empty eyes, as the lights flickered in the reception area. Just an hour ago this place was filled with people who only wanted to survive the night. Now all of them were lying dead somewhere throughout the building. She thought she had understood the brutality of the games, but the Six of Diamonds and the laser through Kobayashi's head was child's play compared to the violent nature of this game.

"Once our friend comes back, we'll find somewhere to get you fixed up, okay?" Even after having just been faced with tragedy, Officer Nakajima still kept his kind nature. Michiko wondered if that would remain the longer they stayed in this world. She gulped, before nodding.

Footsteps echoed behind them, and the two turned to see Arata joining them in the reception area, dried tears staining his face, his eyes puffy and irritated. In his hand was the pocketknife Hajime had dropped earlier. He had gone to find it, seemingly the only piece of his friend he had left.

Encouraging Michiko up, Officer Nakajima led them out of the building. Michiko wrapped her hoodie tighter around her body when the chill night air hit them. She almost welcomed the cold, a nice change from the overwhelming warmth of the apartment building. Arata followed them out.

The three turned to look back at the building as the lights went down, the final sign of the game being over. Michiko turned away, refusing to look back at it.

Arata turned, ready to head off by himself, before Officer Nakajima called out to him, "Hey, you shouldn't be alone."

The younger man stopped in his tracks and turned his head back, before replying, "I won't be alone where I'm going. I just- I have to tell my friend about- about Hajime." He gulped as he said his friend's name out loud, a deep despair in his tone, before locking eyes with Michiko, "I'm not really supposed to say anything but... I hope you find your way to the Beach."

With that, he turned and went on his way, his lonely figure disappearing into the dark. Michiko watched after him with a furrowed brow.

What does he mean by that? She thought to herself. Before she could ponder upon the man’s strange statement any longer, Officer Nakajima led her onwards, away from the sight of the violent massacre they had just partaken in.

Away from the place that marked the descent of her humanity and the murder of any remaining innocence in her soul.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 3-5

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Michiko's plan was to take Officer Nakajima back to the campsite she and Chishiya had established. They never made it that far. Once the adrenaline coursing through her from the game had worn off, her legs crumpled underneath her, halting their journey. Exhaustion set in quickly and her perception of reality distorted. She vaguely felt Officer Nakajima trying to set her back on her feet, his voice distantly trying to catch her attention. But her mind had already shut down, her body following swiftly. She slipped into unconsciousness.

Her eyes fluttered open, allowing the late morning brightness to filter in. Her head pounded, as if one of the killers from the previous night had taken a hammer to her skull. She squeezed her eyes shut again, bringing her hand up to rub at them. Opening her eyes once more, her blurred vision clearing, she scanned her surroundings, taking in the boxes of records lined up against the walls. Her skateboard was tucked away safely in the corner where she had left it the previous day, not wanting to lose another to the games. She was curled up next to the table with the gramophone set upon it. She was back in the vintage record store from the previous day. Just a little less than twenty-four hours before, she had sat in this exact spot, ignoring her worries and running away from the reality of the current world.

And now, she was back, after having witnessed the full horror and brutality this place was capable of.

Wincing as she looked out of the window, the harsh light from outside hit her fully, reigniting the hot, shooting waves of pain in her head. She also became aware of the ache that had set into the rest of her body, as if a truck had rammed her into the pavement, leaving its mark deep in her muscles. Struggling to sit up properly, she groaned as her muscles protested the sudden movement.

From the other end of the room, she heard a shuffle. Flinching at the sound she whipped her head around, body tensing, seeing the shadow of the masked killers come to finish her off. She relaxed upon seeing it wasn't a killer at all. It was only Officer Nakajima. The older man had changed, no longer in his pressed uniform, looking considerably less bloodstained than he was the previous evening. It was a strange sight for Michiko as she had never seen the man in casual clothes. Seeing him without his police uniform meant he was no longer Officer Nakajima. And to her, he had always been Officer Nakajima.

"Ah, you're awake." The older man stated, his voice rather chipper despite the events of the past twenty-four hours, as if he was trying to deny they ever happened, "Here, I went out and found some food for us. There's also a change of clothes and I've left you some water for washing up." He crossed over the room to her, setting a pot of instant noodles and a protein bar down by her side.

Michiko looked beside her, where he gestured to a pile of fresh clothes. A pair of green cargo trousers and a grey vest. She looked down at herself, grimacing, trying to hold back her nausea at the sight of the dried bloodstains all down her clothes. Scratching at her face, she also found dried blood flaking off her skin, infecting the underneath of her fingernails, and figured a wash would be best before eating.

Ignoring the growling of her stomach, she grabbed the pile of clothes and nodded a ailent thank you, not quite trusting her voice just yet. She didn't understand how the older man had been able to look her in the eye and show her such kindness after watching her kill a person. Especially with how brutal the act was. Her stomach rolled as the memories came back to the forefront of her mind from where they had been tucked away. Out of sight, out of mind. They washed over her like a wave, and she forced herself to suppress them before they dragged her under and she heaved up what little was in her stomach.

Heading into the backroom, she discovered a basin and some water bottles laid out, along with a small towel. She got to work quickly, discarding her hoodie and emptying the bottles into the basin and starting with her hands and arms, ridding them off the dried, crusted blood, before moving to her face and neck, using the towel to scrub away the evidence of her sins. As if by washing it all away she could pretend it had never happened. Of all the things she thought she would be doing at fifteen, becoming a murderer was not one of them. In the normal world, she would've been lining the streets with colourful paint, expressing her feelings by staining them permanently on the earth for everyone to see. An unknown figure leaving a meagre mark, destined to be erased eventually.

Perhaps, even in another life, things would've been even more normal. She may have been loitering around the streets with girlfriends her age, going shopping and worrying about school grades and boys. She would have a home to go to at the end of the day, dinner on the table, parents she adored and who adored her. Perhaps she would've had all of  this if things turned out differently when she was a girl. The distant thread of a regular life that was cut short from one man's impulsive actions.

Once she had washed all of the blood away, she took a moment, staring down into the now murky, brown water, her haunted face reflecting back at her, dark circles evident, the deep bruises shining on her skin. Her shoulders heaving with heavy breaths. For a split second the image rippled, becoming a more masculine figure with short, dishevelled hair, grinning menacingly back up at her in a mockery of love. She recoiled, scurrying away from the basin, refusing to look at what the reflection was showing her. She wasn't him; she wouldn't ever be him.

  But as much as she lived in denial, violence ran through her blood like a poison. The previous night and the basin of dirty, bloodied water was evidence of that.

She sat against the closed door of the backroom, the walls closing in on her upon seeing his face in the reflection. Panic clawed at her chest and her breath heaved, eyes darting about the room, chasing shadows that weren’t really there. She twisted frantically at the ring on her finger, trying to picture her mother's warm embrace curling tight around her, a comforting memory that had slowly been fading over time. Eventually, her eyes landed back on the offending basin, and she hesitantly crawled back over, looking back into the murky mirror. Her own face stared back at her, bruised eyes and everything. Not the face she feared seeing.

She steadied her breath. In and out. Slowly. Just as her mother had once taught her when she came home crying after the girls at school had been picking on her. What she wouldn't give to go back to those childish struggles, when life was simple. Before it all went up in flames.

Once she had suitably calmed herself, expelling the image from the water out of her head, she rose from her place, peeling off her dirty clothes and changing into the new set that Officer Nakajima had found for her. When she was done, she felt fairly refreshed, as if she could ignore everything that happened over the last two days, ignore her reality once again until the moment came where she couldn't.

She could ignore the person, no, the monster that had started emerging from inside her after last night. Michiko was good at that, ignoring the festering darkness. She had done it for the last five years, she could continue doing so.

Michiko sat in the room for another twenty minutes, washing her hoodie, attempting to scrub away the last traces of the previous night. But the bloodstains wouldn't budge, no matter how vigorously she tried to wash them out. Maybe there were some things she couldn't fully ignore. She sighed and gave up, figuring she would have to discard the hoodie. It was a shame. She had held onto this particular item of clothing for years and had gotten attached to it. But now it was ruined.

Kind of like her, she thought to herself.

Sucking in deep breath, she exited the backroom, leaving behind the hoodie as a discarded piece of herself, the last piece of her innocence crumbling away.

The rumbling in her stomach became more profound, reminding her of the awaiting pot of noodles sat on the floor, slowly losing warmth. Dropping herself down next to the gramophone, she cranked the handle, allowing the grainy music to spill out into the silent store before picking up her noodles and shoving a lukewarm mouthful down her throat.

She caught Officer Nakajima's questioning gaze across from her. "It's too quiet," Was all she said.

They ate in relative silence, the only sound between them being the old record playing and the slurping of noodles. Once they were both finished, they sat, neither willing to break the thin ice of tension between them, neither knowing exactly what to say. There were things that needed to be acknowledged, but neither were willing to acknowledge them.

"Michiko..." Officer Nakajima began, deciding he would be the one to break the silence. He was the elder, sometimes these sorts of things fell to him. But trying to figure out how to navigate the fragile creature across from him proved challenging for his old mind, "about last night-"

"Don't," Michiko cut him off instantly, shoulders tensing up, her voice sharp as a knife, "Can we not talk about it please."

"Michiko, you killed a man, I think we do need to talk about it," Officer Nakajima tried to reason.

"We really don't." Michiko's tone was edging upon venomous now.

Officer Nakajima conceded, knowing that he wasn't going to get any further with that particular topic of discussion. He'd heard that tone from her before, knowing it was an indicator of her shutting off. He didn't want that. He had known Michiko for a number of years, and had started to figure out how to handle her moods. So, he switched the conversation, easing up on any more difficult topics. He would work around her walls another time, "Okay, we don't have to. But you at least need to tell me about this place. What these," he struggled to find the right term, "death games are."

Michiko pulled her knees into her chest, gulping, however her shoulders relaxed a little at the change in conversation, "I don't know yet. I've only been here two days, just a little longer than you have. All I know is that they happen every night. You have to play them, or your visa days will run out."

"Visa?" Nakajima questioned.

The girl hummed, pulling out the phone she received from last night's game. She checked quickly to see if it was still working. It was. She pulled up the visa app and turned it to face the older man. "After clearing a game, you receive visa days, and you have to play another game before they run out. I had four days before yesterday's game, and yesterday we played a four of spades, so now I have eight days and you should have four." She rechecked the app. "Well, actually cause it's a new day, I now have seven and you'll have three."

Nakajima pulled out his own phone, checking it for himself, giving a small nod of understanding. However, his face was still laced with confusion. "So, the number of the game is the number of visa days you get?" He asked, his eyebrows scrunching up. Michiko nodded. "And what happens if they run out?" He had a suspicion he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it confirmed.

Michiko caught his eye, before bringing her hand up in the shape of a gun, placing it under her chin and letting a quiet pew sound. Officer Nakajima gulped but nodded. Michiko thought he was taking things remarkably well considering the circumstances. He continued his questioning.

"So, have you been alone since you got here?"

The girl shook her head, "No, I have- Shit!" She blurted out, suddenly remembering her companion from the first day. She had completely forgotten about Chishiya in all the madness. Scrambling to her feet, she began gathering her stuff into her backpack, intending to go back to the department store so he wouldn't think she had abandoned him. 

Though considering the world they were in, after not returning, he probably thought she was dead. That would be the most logical conclusion. And Chishiya seemed to be a logical kind of guy. Perhaps even he was dead from whatever game he joined. That thought didn’t sound right. Despite only meeting him briefly, she couldn't imagine him dying. He was a smart ass, and smart asses had an annoying habit of surviving tough situations.

"What is it?" Officer Nakajima asked.

"There was this guy I was with the first day, I was meant to go back to our camp after our game and I haven't. Dammit, I have to go back." She didn't know why she was so panicked. It's not like she cared about Chishiya, she had only known him a day. But all she knew is that she would hate to be left alone in this world. He also might've found more information about this world, just like he had planned, and she could share what she had discovered in return. It was better for them all to stick together, they could understand more about the games if they worked together.

Officer Nakajima only nodded, calmly going along with her flustering. He grabbed all his stuff as well, "Okay, we'll go find your friend then."

They exited the store in a hurry, leaving only the rubbish from their meal behind, and a discarded hoodie left to rot in the dark back room.

♤♡◇♧

They didn't find him. When they arrived at their makeshift camp, there was no sign of the blonde-haired man. The majority of the camping equipment and supplies had been left tidy, with only a few of the snacks they had gathered missing. He had left.

Michiko was mildly annoyed but also understood. There was no reason for him to stay after she hadn't returned. He had no obligation to wait. He probably thought she was dead after she had failed to come back. So, he continued on, probably in search of more answers as he planned.

"I'm sorry." Officer Nakajima spoke up.

Michiko shrugged nonchalantly, "It's no big deal," She said, "Only knew him a day anyway." She scurried around the camp, gathering the supplies that would be useful. The food tins, the camping stove, and the remaining food that had been left. Part of her hoped he had trusted that she survived and would be back, so he left the supplies for her. But she didn't count on it. He probably just had no room left to carry the remainder of the supplies and saw no point in taking them. "We should probably keep moving like he did. Arata mentioned something yesterday, the 'shore' or something?"

"The 'beach' ." Officer Nakajima supplied.

Michiko hummed in acknowledgement, "We might find more people there. They might have more answers about this world. Chishiya planned to find out more, and he was smart. The more we know, the better chance we have of beating the games, he knew that." She looked over at the older man, seeing the semi-stunned expression on his face, "what?" She questioned.

Officer Nakajima shook off his stupor. He always knew Michiko had a cleverness about her, but this was one of the first times he'd ever seen it used. She often neglected it, never seeing the point to put her brain to good use other than escaping the law. "Nothing, you're right. So, let's keep moving."

And keep moving they did. They packed up necessary supplies and spent the next couple of days exploring the abandoned Tokyo streets, finding somewhere safe to spend the night. The two spent the entire time making idle conversation, laughing about Michiko's less than legal antics that had her brought into the station in the world before, neither wanting to breach the fragile bridge they had been building by mentioning the Four of Spades game.

Michiko spent the entire time feeling a little less alone than she had for the past five years. Spending the past three days in an alternate Tokyo with a stranger and the man who used to arrest her for petty theft. She never thought she would see the day that she would ever get along with Officer Nakajima properly. But even just being in his presence, having him there watching over her as she slept, making sure she ate enough, it began filling a hole that had been dug in her chest over a number of years. She began feeling sort of… safe.

She wanted to lean into that, to trust Officer Nakajima wholeheartedly. But she just couldn't. There was a part of her that couldn’t get past that wall. She still kept him at a distance, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for him to abandon her just like everyone else had. To see the monster she was. It was only a matter of time, and she needed to prepare herself for that. She couldn't rely on anyone. She had learned that a long time ago. No matter how safe she felt in his presence, the back of her mind whispered traitorous thoughts of the illusion shattering.

It was the last day of his Visa, the day he would have to play another game, when he finally brought up what they had been avoiding.

Michiko had been quiet the entire morning, bordering on silence. She only hummed a thank you when he handed her a cereal bar for her breakfast. They were running low on rations and would need to find more. She didn't have a sarcastic quip for him at all, unlike the last couple of mornings where she had woken him up with a jibing greeting. She was growing uneasy at the thought of another inevitable death game. One that would bring out the violence again.

♤♡◇♧

It was a conversation that needed to be had. He didn't want to go into a game where he could possibly die and leave the girl festering in her own thoughts. Officer Nakajima had been stewing in his thoughts for the last couple of days, trying to conjure up the best way to broach the subject to Michiko, who had begun resembling a flighty rabbit whenever conversations would take an uncomfortable trajectory.

In his years on the force, Officer Nakajima had built a reputation on his handling of witnesses. He had a natural aura around him that made people comfortable, that allowed them to open up with confidence. His gentle handling and quiet questioning had earned him the nickname ‘ Father of the Precinct ’. As a father himself that nickname had brought him joy once upon a time. Until things were upended and his life crumbled to ruin. When the violence of the world had reached his doorstep.

"I think I killed my first man when I was twenty-two. I had been an officer for just over a year at that point, still quite new to the job. I'd only dealt with petty thugs on the street, nothing major." He paused, looking over to the girl who had her eyebrows furrowed, mild interest taking over her face at his words, "My squad was called in to assist with a gang shootout. I was aiding civilians when the action reached our location. I hadn't ever experienced that kind of situation, I almost froze. There were only two of us there, my squad captain and myself. He told me to raise my gun. I didn't want to, but I knew if I didn't, those civilians we were aiding might get caught in the crossfire. And it was my duty to protect them."

The older man's eyes glazed over as he reflected on the past. "He was just a boy, a couple of years younger than myself at the time. But he had this awful look in his eye, like the whole situation was fun for him. He raised his gun at a woman who was fleeing, and I just fired on instinct. I hit him right in the head, and he dropped to the floor, no longer moving. I just stared at his body as the gunfire continued around me. My squad captain shook me out of it, and when back up got there, the job was done. I didn't really process it until I got home, and when I remembered that boy's body, I threw up, disgusted at myself. I had to take a long reflection on why I joined the police force in the first place. I knew I would end up having to potentially kill in order to protect. It was part of my job. But it never got easier."

He caught Michiko's eye again, "What I'm saying is that sometimes, even though killing is wrong, you have to do it. I had to do it to protect. You had to do it to survive. The world isn’t always black and white, right and wrong. It might not get easier to live with it, but if I know you well, and I think I do at this point, I know that you'll get through it. You've always been stronger than most teenagers I know, Michiko."

The girl said nothing, and Officer Nakajima was afraid she'd continue retracting on herself. Until she spoke up, a grim smile on her face, "Guess I upgraded from petty theft to murder. Surprised I haven't been arrested yet."

Officer Nakajima let out a small chuckle, reaching over to ruffle the girl on the head. "If it was the normal world then yes, I would've." He sighed, "But this isn't the normal world anymore." It had only been a few days, but that much he understood. This wasn't the normal world, so the normal rules didn't apply here. It may have gone against all of his morals and his sense of duty, but if there was anything his many years on the force taught him, it was that sometimes you needed to adapt to your situation. So he would adapt as necessary. To protect himself, and to protect the girl beside him.

"It really isn't," Michiko replied. She paused, reflecting over the older man's words. "Thank you, Officer Nakajima."

"Call me Ichida." And for the first time in three days, Officer Nakajima saw her smile properly. And she wasn't quiet anymore.

♤♡◇♧

As the day wore on, the sun began to set. And with the darkness beginning to consume the city, they knew the time was drawing closer. The billboards lit up when night time fully set in, guiding them towards their next game, towards their possible imminent ends.

They found themselves in front of a subway station, standing at the top of the steps, the fluorescent lights flickering as it lit their way down. Some twisted version of a gateway to hell. 

"You can still turn back." Ichida spoke up, addressing Michiko, "You still have days left, you don't have to play. I would be able to handle myself.”

Michiko considered his words. He was right. She still had days left, and if she entered this game, she would be putting her life unnecessarily at risk for a second time. She could feel the darkness creeping in at the edges, the violence that festered in her veins rearing its ugly head. She shoved it back down, not wanting to unleash that monster again. 

Perhaps she may need it, may need to call on the violence to help her survive. But deep down she hoped she wouldn't have to. It made her too much like him.

And she promised her mother's grave she wouldn't end up like him.

She shakily breathed out, keeping it at the edges, and turned towards Ichida. "I'm not letting you go into this alone."

The pair turned to the steps; heads held up in a façade of shared strength.

And they descended into the devil's lair.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 5

♤♡◇♧

When the world fell to shit, Kirika had been on a rooftop in Shibuya, staring down at the bustling ants below. They all scurried about their days, oblivious and uncaring to the girl on the rooftop whose feet lined up with the ledge, preparing herself to step off of it and end her useless existence.

All of them, cogs in the machine of life, going about their lives as if there was no more to it than work and money and appearance. Her life was all about appearances, and that life had brought her to this point. Up on a rooftop about to end everything. Because it was all pointless . 

The fireworks had distracted her. Bursting sparks of light, their flare dulled due to the lightness of the sky, the fireworks’ colours unable to show off their true brilliance. She remembered thinking it odd. Fireworks in the middle of the day. But each to their own, she concluded. If there was ever a time to go out with a bang this was it. 

She could picture it, falling backwards and flying free for a moment, just like a bird. The fireworks colouring the sky. Perhaps the only taste of freedom she might find would be in her death, but she would make as beautiful for herself as she possibly could. If it meant she could be released from her chains.

As she looked down, preparing to take her final step, her feet stilled at the very edge of the roof.

Down below, where the ants had been bustling about, paying no mind to the girl about to die, were gone. The streets were completely empty. Devoid of any trace of life.

Was this the afterlife? Had she already fallen to her death and hit the ground? If that was the case, then it was quicker and less painful than she thought it would be. She had wandered the streets that day, entirely convinced she had already perished, that she was now a ghost haunting the streets of an unnervingly empty Tokyo.

Yet doubt crept in at every corner. Though she thought she was dead, she still felt very much alive. Blood still pumped through her, her pulse still pounded when she felt her neck. Was she truly dead? Even if she wasn’t, the entire population of Tokyo disappearing in a matter of seconds made no sense.

Things eventually made sense. Things were eventually explained to her. And she found herself stuck in this parallel universe where death games were mandatory if you wanted to survive. 

But Kirika did not see this world as her potential end, to allow herself to perish as she had initially intended. She saw it as a second chance.

♤♡◇♧

The station was eerily silent, the figures inside all remaining quiet and tense, eyes darting around each other in dreadful anticipation. Each of them were making an attempt to hide their wariness, as if being caught showing weakness could mean the worst. But the hooded man that leaned against the tiled wall saw everything. Saw the shifting eyes, the tightly wound muscles, the hairs standing on end. All signs of nervousness within these bodies were witnessed by him. There was one, a highschool girl who was darting around each player, trying to get someone to tell her what was happening. A first timer. 

The younger girl took one look at the intimidating hooded figure separated from the others, eyes cast in shadow, expression blank, and turned away instantly, deciding against coming to him. He was thankful for that. He’d already had to deal with one annoying teen in his time here, he’d rather avoid any more for the foreseeable future. 

Chishiya hadn’t given much thought towards the younger girl he’d spent his first day in this world with. Not since leaving her behind. 

When she hadn’t managed to make her way back to the department store by the time he’d come back from his second game, he figured that she’d decided she was better off on her own. Or perhaps she’d entered a game arena contrary to her original ideals and died. Either way, he wasn't prepared to wait around. 

This world was far too curious an anomaly.

 He’d discovered in his second game, the six of diamonds (a simple game of blackjack that he’d managed to deduce the rules to whilst in the middle of playing) that there were people out there willing to go to any length to survive. And he’d hope to find more of these interesting people to play with, to see just how far they would go. Just how far would humanity go in abandoning their own morals just for the sake of their own lives. The players he’d encountered in the six of diamonds were quite different to those he’d worked with in the Pandora’s Box game. Then again, the very nature of the game was also different. He was curious to see what other vicious puzzles this world would conjur up. It seemed they would test different limits, and this world was just waiting for him to discover its secrets.

So he’d moved on, and hadn’t spared Michiko any thought.  

Echoing footsteps resounded from the entrance to the subway platform, and most eyes traveled over to the source, eager to examine the new players joining the game. Would they be experienced? Or newbies like the nervous school girl. Would there be stiff competition if they had to fight for their own lives, or valuable team members if the game decided to go that route. 

Chishiya’s eyes lit up in a small, almost unnoticeable expression of surprise and a smirk curled at the edges of his mouth at the familiar figure entering the space. As if his thoughts of her had conjured the girl out of thin air.

The game just got more interesting. 

♤♡◇♧

Michiko scanned the room with calculating eyes, taking in the space, the people, and the atmosphere. There were about ten other figures, some stuck close in pairs, others camped out by themselves, not willing to get involved with other players. There was a train parked on the platform, the inside of its carriages bathed in darkness with the lights off. The fluorescent lights gave the platform a dim glow. A table stood out in the middle of the room, a number of cards placed face down upon it. There was a sign at the front that read ‘DO NOT TOUCH UNTIL GIVEN PERMISSION’. She could vividly imagine the consequences for anyone who ignored that rule. 

There was a girl around her age, clutching her phone securely, bag hugged tightly to her side. She took a look at Michiko and her features softened with relief as if the other girl was the answer to her prayers, a kindred spirit she could relate to. She jogged up to Michiko with a hopeful look in her eyes, fringe plastered to her forehead with sweat, and her gaze darting between her and the older man stood resolutely behind her.  

“Finally someone who looks friendly. Do you have any idea what’s going on? I’m so confused and-“ she lowered her voice, glancing around uneasily at the other figures in the room, “none of these people are telling me anything.” 

Michiko glanced between the girl and Officer Nakaji- no Ichida, wary of the girl’s enthusiasm upon approaching her. Trusting people in this world could be dangerous. Especially strangers. Especially strangers who were newer to this games. 

The girl caught the glance the two shared, a shred of despair beginning to loom over her. She reached out and latched onto Michiko's arm in desperation. Michiko flinched automatically at the foreign touch. “Please,” She begged quietly, tearing up, her expression confused and on edge. 

Michiko whipped her gaze down to where her arm was grabbed, feeling worms crawling up her skin at the strangers touch, before glancing back to the girl. She gulped, looking into her desperate brown eyes. She didn’t want to appear weak to other players by caving in and helping her, but then she remembered the kindness afforded to her by Arata and Hajime in both of her games before. If they hadn’t aided her back then, perhaps she wouldn’t be standing here now. No, she definitely wouldn’t have made it without their help. Maybe she should pass their kindness on, despite it being a potential danger in this world.

 It was out of character, as Michiko was often someone who tended to look out only for herself, an instinct built from the way the world had treated her over the years. But there was something in the other girl's desperate gaze that resonated deep within her. 

“It’s a game,” She explained quietly, the words spilling out before she could stop them,  “just listen to the rules carefully and you’ll be fine.” 

Apparently, Ichida also took pity on the other young girl, his fatherly instincts coming into play Michiko guessed as he chimed in from behind her, “Stick by us. We’ll get you through this. Just don’t panic no matter what you hear or see.”  

Michiko sent the older man an annoyed glare. She was willing to help by granting the girl information, letting it be up to her whether she listens and survives or not. She wasn’t intending to invite her to join them. She already had one person to keep an eye on in this game, that was enough for her. Strangers could get you killed. She wasn’t willing to risk her life for one. 

Seeing Ichida raise an expectant eyebrow at her, she just huffed and moved forward, the girl still latched onto the sleeves of her recently acquired pink and blue hoodie. 

The girl sent her a small grateful smile, as Ichidda stood tall behind them, a shadow of protection scanning the crowd with a hard gaze, almost daring any of the other players to come near him and the girls. 

Then everyone’s phones chimed. Michiko lifted hers up, having acquired it before stepping onto the platform. 

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED 

THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE 

GAME: SUBWAY ESCAPE 

DIFFICULTY: SIX OF CLUBS 

Clubs. If she remembered correctly, Arata said that clubs were team games. It seemed fate was on their side granting them a new ally, despite Michiko’s initial irritation. Time would tell if she was an asset or a burden. 

ALL PLAYERS 

PLEASE RANDOMLY SELECT A CARD FROM THE TABLE IN CENTRE OF THE ROOM 

THEN STAND IN FRONT OF YOUR ASSIGNED CARRIAGE 

THE RULES WILL BE EXPLAINED ONCE YOU BOARD THE TRAIN 

As if on cue, the lights on the train flickered to life, illuminating the inside of all eight carriages with an insidious glow. No one shifted at first, everyone watching intently to see who would dare to make the first move. Until a figure stepped forward from a shadowy corner that Michiko hadn’t noticed, white hood drawn up to hide his face, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He stepped up to the table with a casual, easy posture, before selecting a card and turning around, directly meeting Michiko’s eyes.  

The girl gave a quiet gasp under her breath, taking in the familiar white-blond hair and mischievous eyes of the first person she’d encountered in this world. Chishiya raised his hand in a mock wave, before moving to stand in front of the door to the conductor's cabin. 

Once he had made his selection, more people began to move, picking up their cards and standing in front of their assigned carriages. Ichida stepped forward, gently patting her shoulder, pulling her out of her shocked state. Michiko tore her gaze away from the man in white, before stepping forward to the table, her small entourage following. Ichida picked up a card, flipping it and allowing the girls to see what he’d selected. Carriage C.  

Michiko went next, hand reaching out and laying over a card. Flipping it, she read what it had assigned her. Gulping nervously at seeing the words ‘CONDUCTOR’ written on it, she glanced up at Chishiya who stood nonchalant in front of the door of said cabin.

She didn’t see the new girl pick out her card, revealing the same assignment as Ichida, giving a gleeful smile to the older man. Ichida held Michiko’s arm, pulling the younger girl's gaze over to him. “We’ll get out alive,” He nodded reassuringly to her.

Michiko bobbed her head in acknowledgement, stomach doing a  flip at the thought of being separated from the older man, before telling him, “It’s a clubs game, that means there will be an element of teamwork. We can do this together.” 

Ichida nodded, his gaze softening before beckoning the other girl to follow him. She did, nervously glancing back at Michiko as she did so, looking every bit like a stray puppy following a stranger for treats. 

Michiko looked back at the conductor's cabin, before heading over to stand next to the familiar face she spent her first day in this world with. She stopped beside him, neither saying anything for a second, before the older man broke the silence between them. “Looks like we've been given the same assignment.”

Michiko hummed, before turning to fix him with a wary gaze. “You disappeared.” 

Chishiya nodded, his face remaining passive, giving nothing away. “I did. You didn’t return, so I figured you might be dead.” 

“That’s fair,” Michiko admitted. There was a slight bit of annoyance that he’d just leave her to fend for herself, but she understood perfectly why he did,  “I probably would’ve done the same.” 

The two watched as the door to the conductor's cabin in front of them opened, and they stepped in one after the other. It was a tight squeeze, not giving the two much room to move around each other. There was a door leading into the rest of Carriage A to the back of them, the assigned player wandering around the space, and a control panel with flickering buttons in front of them. 

Both of them gazed around the cabin, taking in as much information as possible. Michiko had learned from Pandora’s Box that every detail mattered, no matter how small. There was a microphone on the control panel, a button in front of it. Most likely the intercom system for the train. There was also a bunch of screens next to the control panel, showing visuals of the other eight carriages, and the people occupying them. Her eyes flickered automatically to Carriage C to see that Ichida and the stranger had successfully boarded.

Michiko continued to speak as the train door closed behind them, sealing the two inside. “By the way, I don’t know if you know the nature of the suits of each game, but just so you’re aware, this is a clubs , meaning it’s a team game. We’ll most likely have to work with the other people on the train somehow.” She brushed her hand over the microphone as she said this, figuring exactly how they would do so.

Chishiya hummed, “Ah, it seems you’ve also been busy gathering information. I figured the suits might mean something, but hadn’t quite figured out what yet.” He fixed the younger girl with a curious gaze, as if determining something about her, trying to figure her out. It reminded her a lot of how he looked at her during their first game, like he was examining a bug under a microscope. That gaze made her uneasy. Small, like a mouse. She turned away to escape it. 

Thankfully, they were interrupted by the train speakers coming to life, the voice from before ringing through.  

WELCOME PLAYERS 

YOU ARE BOARDING AT ICHINOE STATION  

THIS TRAIN IS ON THE SHINJUKU LINE 

HEADING TO SHINJUKU STATION 

THE GAME WILL BEGIN WHEN THE TRAIN DEPARTS THE PLATFORM

CLEAR CONDITION 

ESCAPE THE TRAIN BEFORE IT REACHES SHINJUKU STATION 

IF THERE ARE ANY PLAYERS LEFT ON THE TRAIN WHEN IT REACHES SHINJUKU STATION 

IT WILL BE GAME OVER FOR THOSE PLAYERS 

There was a metallic screech and Michiko almost lost her balance as the train jerked forward into motion. She grasped onto the side of the carriage to maintain her stance as Chisiya looked around curiously.  

GAME START 

“So it’s begun.” 

♤♡◇♧

“The Shinjuku line from Ichinoe station,” Chishiya gave a long hum, “That gives us just under thirty minutes to get off the train and sixteen stations to depart from. If I remember right, the station before Shinjuku is Shinjuku-Sanchome Station. So that’s the last stop we can get off.” He looked down at Michiko, his entire body at ease, “Guess we better work quickly if we want to live.” 

Michiko kept her ear open to what he was saying, but her gaze was fixed on the eight screens displaying the activity of each carriage. There was already panic brewing as the rest of the players darted around their spaces, looking desperately for anything that would help them escape. Despite there being no audio, she could hear the shouts ringing in her ear, could imagine the helpess panic in their voices. She looked behind her, through the window to the lone woman in the carriage behind them. The older woman returned her gaze, her eyes wide with dread. 

Light spilled into the cabin as they entered into the next station and the train halted to a stop at the eerily empty platfrom. The speakers came to life, the voice filtering through.  

WELCOME TO FUNABORI STATION 

The woman in Carriage A ran to the door, slamming on the open button over and over, pulling the emergency exit. But the door didn’t budge. Michiko returned to the cameras, watching some players try to smash the windows, but they wouldn’t even crack. The train’s wheels screeched back to life, moving on quickly from Funamori station. 

Michiko went back to watching the woman in Carriage A slamming her palm against the door in anger as the train moved away from the platform, one of their very little chances of escape flying by. Her eyes drifted down to the door handle. 

Wait. 

Her eyes scrunched up as she stepped closer to the door. Right next to the handle was a small slot, just big enough to pass a small object through. A coin perhaps. She looked through the window, trying to spy anything similar on the doors between Carriages A and B. But her vision didn’t quite reach far enough. Searching through the cameras, she tried to look for the same thing, but none of them were at the right angle. 

“Hmm, so what shall we do then conductor? One minute at each platform and we’re now down to fifteen stations” Chishiya piped up from the corner he’d settled into. 

Michiko turned to him, and looked the man’s casual posture up and down with a blank expression, before turning back to the control board. Looking down at the microphone, she gulped before pressing the button next to it, deciding to make an attempt to communicate with the players. Getting them all to work together was the key to winning, but how was she supposed to do that when they were all separated with a limited form of contact.

“Everyone!” She called out, watching the monitors closely for any sign of response. There were a few startled jumps, and some confused glances. Her lips twitched at the sight, at least now knowing there was a solid form of communication. “Can- can you hear me?” There were some reluctant nods amongst the players on screen. “Please calm down everyone. We need to think carefully. This is a clubs game, which means,” She paused, “We must work together and think carefully to find a solution. Now, please look at the doors, next to the handle there are small slots, can you see them?” 

There was a hesitancy, before some players approached the doors separating the carriages, taking a look to see if Michiko was telling the truth. “Do you see it?” Michio asked. There were more nods. “Good, there must be something in each of your carriages, please look carefully, see if you can find anything of the sort, something like a coin maybe, or even anything that seems out of place.” 

Michiko watched  the players begin to search their carriages from top to bottom, scurrying around like ants looking for food. They had hope for survival now, to complete the game. They had at least placed their trust in Michiko’s word for the time being. She wondered briefly if that made them stupid or smart, to place their hope for survival in a complet stranger. She supposed it would depend on the situation.

“Using the Microphone to get everyone to cooperate despite our separation. Smart. I’m surprised people would so easily trust the word of a stranger though.” Chihiy piped up again from his corner.  

Michiko set her gaze back upon the man, casually seated against the other end of the control panel with his arms crossed, her face scrunched up in annoyance. “Well, if people are working towards a common goal, they tend to cooperate, particularly if they don’t have a choice.” She turned back to the screens, “Plus, a lot of these players seem to have been around long enough to know exactly what it means to play a clubs game. They understand the importance of working together being our only method of survival.”

“So each suit has a different meaning then, care to enlighten me?” Chishiya hinted, trying to edge some information out of the younger girl.

The younger girl shot him a deadpan look, frustrated with his supposed lack of focus on their current situation. “Maybe when we’re not in a life or death situation I’d feel obliged to share. I don’t see you lifting a finger to help at all. Maybe if you did we’d clear this game quicker and you’d get your information then.”

The blonde man shrugged, letting out an amused huf under his breath, “You’re not one to give up easily are you?

“I spent the last year of my life in and out of a police station for so-called delinquent acts. What do you think?” Was all she said, trying to refocus on the current condition of the game, watching the rest of the players with a close eye. 

“I’ll admit, based on the Pandora’s Box game we played, you’re quite intelligent for your age.” Chishiya stated, seemingly out of nowhere “However, your stubbornness sometimes stops you from seeing the whole picture. You can tend to miss important things that way.”

Michiko turned to him, about to ask exactly what he meant with the statement when she saw where his gaze was.

His eyes focused on something in front of him, beyond the back of Michiko’s head. The girl frowned, before turning to see what he was so fixated on. Above the control panel, there was a sign posted, resembling those safety posters you might find accompanying this sort of machinery. An everyday thing your eyes might glance over, never considering the true importance of it. Such as a safety poster that didn’t contain any safety instructions, but rather, a puzzling message.  

It starts in the Mountains  

The young girl's eyes widened in realisation, before she spoke into the intercom. “Everyone! Look inside your carriages for anything relating to mountains.” She looked at the cameras, everyone pausing as they listened to her voice, many of their faces scrunched up in confusion. “Quickly! Just trust me, look for mountains.” 

Watching the cameras closely, Michiko kept her eye out for any activity that may have suggested a player finding something. The train rolled to  stop in another station, the intercom announcing their location. Every station they passed through was another step closer to game over. They need to work quickly. Michiko’s heart sat in her throat, her pulse pounding. Her thumb rubbed at the ring on her second finger as the fingers on her left hand tapped anxiously on the control board. 

There was activity at the corner of her eye. The middle aged man in carriage H was waving his arms into the camera. He held up a small coin between his fingers. 

Michiko let out a relieved laugh, before speaking over the intercom, communicating with the man. “Yes yes yes! Pass it through the door. Everyone, there is a coin coming through from the back carriage, keep passing it through up to us!” She watched through the cameras as everyone did so, passing it through the slot on each door before it reached the conductor cabin. Michiko caught the coin as it was slipped through the door between them and the woman in carriage A. The woman nodded to her, before going back to examining the surroundings of her own cabin. 

Michiko glanced over at Chishiya, before examining the coin. “What do we do with this now?” 

The older blonde man finally moved from where he had settled comfortably, running a finger over a section of the control board. “I imagine it’s meant to go in here.” Michikko looked closer, and saw what he saw. There was a coin slot at the top of the control panel, just in front of the window. 

She stretched out her hand, about to deposit the coin before something caught her eye. On one side of the coin, was written an English letter. Michiko’s English wasn’t amazing. She had been learning it in school, and remembered very little from before she started skipping classes, but enough to recognise a letter from the alphabet. 

“Well, aren’t you going to put the coin in?” Chishiya asked from beside her, tone almost teasing.

“I think we should wait.” She said, holding up the coin showing the engraved letter ‘E’. Chishiya merely raised his eyebrow, the corner of his lips turning up in a small smirk. 

“Evidently it wouldn’t be that easy.” He muttered as if his statement was the most obvious thing in the world.

They both went back to looking at the cameras, immediately catching the same man from carriage H still waving his arms at the camera. Michiko’s eyebrows scrunched up, concern infiltrating her mind. Clearly the man was trying to communicate something to them. “What is it Carriage H?”  

The man gestured furiously, mouthing words, trying to get something across to them. But Michiko couldn’t make sense of his game of charades. “I-I don’t understand? What are you trying to say?” The man cradled his arms to his chest, swinging them side to side, as if rocking a- “Baby?” Michiko guessed, “something to do with a baby?” The man shook his head, rocking his arm more violently, and Michiko tried to think of words that might relate, “baby… baby… mother?” He nodded. “Mother?” Michiko confirmed and the man nodded again, more lively, grinning into the camera in glee. “Everyone look for mother now! Something to do with a mother!” 

The activity continued as the remaining carriages scoured for anything to do with the new clue. Her eyes were latched onto the screen, breath hitch and heart pounding away, a solid drum in her chest. Looking to the camera displaying Officer Nakajima and the girl who accompanied him, she watched them doing their part, searching their carriage for any connection to the word.

Then she turned to Carrige G,  the two in there ripped a poster down, a poster of a mother cradling a baby close to her chest, a gentle smile on her face. The two women rushed to pick something almost indecipherable from the ground, running up to show it in the camera. “Yes!” Michiko called out, before switching on the intercom. “Pass it through.” 

It was. Just the same as the one before it. When it reached the conductor cabin, Michiko examined it. The letter ‘D’ was on it. She looked back to the camera for Carriage G, one of the two players was rummaging in her bag. The short-haired  woman produced a notebook and pen. Quicky and calmly writing something on a blank page, she held it up to the camera. Michiko couldn’t quite make it out due to the camera quality distorting the writing slightly, but as she scrunched her eyes and leaned closer, she could make out just what the writing said.

The display board in the cabin gives us a clue after passing the coin through.

Michiko spoke into the intercom, confirming the information with the player. “There’s a clue on the display board?” The woman took the notebook away from the camera nodding, before turning to another page and writing again.

I’ve already passed the message onto the next cabin, they managed to hear me through the glass.

She turned to another page, writing again.

But you may need to pass the message onto the rest of the cabins so they're prepared ahead of time.

Michiko nodded to herself, letting out a soft laugh, running her hands down her face. They had a system now, they had figured the game out. It should hopefully be smooth sailing from here.

The train halted to a stop at another station.

WELCOME TO SUMIYOSHI STATION

Movement caught her eye in the camera as the cabin doors behind the woman rolled open. The same happened for the man in Carriage H. Both parties stared at the door in shock, the man immediately taking action and running out on the empty platform. His cries of relief echoed all the way through the station, filtering through the glass of the conductor cabins window. 

Her eyes went back to the woman in Carriage G, who looked between the door and the camera in confliction, her red painted lips pursing as her companion also raced out the open door. “Go.” Michiko spoke through the intercom, “You’ve done your part to help.”

The woman nodded, a thankful expression overtaking her face, before she grabbed her bag and moved out of the cabin, just before the doors closed behind her. An uncharactersitic spark ignited in Michiko as she watched the woman go. She hoped the woman might survive. After all, she might have just given the rest of them the means to survive the rest of the game.

The train screeched on.

“Sumiyoshi station, if I’m right, that means about ten minutes has passed and we have…” Chishiya paused, his eyes glazed over and Michiko watched him count in his head, “twelve stations until Shinjuku.”

Despite the dwindling opportunties for escape, hope sparked in Michiko’s chest. She spoke into the microphone, allowing herself to lean into the swelling in her chest for once.. “Everyone, I think we figured the game out! After the coin gets passed through, the cabin who found the coin gets a clue to the next cabin's location. The windows between the carriages are thin enough for you to communicate through. Once you get your clue you can pass it on! Let’s work quickly so we can win this!”

They played it this way. A heaviness leaving Michiko’s shoulder with each clue figured out and each coin passed through to the conductor's cabin. The coins were steadily growing into a pile upon the control panel, the side with the letter on displayed upwards on each one.

As they reached Carriage D, the man inside had passed through his coin just as the reached the next station. Iwamotocho Station. Seven stations after that according to Chishiya’s estimations.

The man looked at the door as it opened, and instinctually ran to it. “Wait!” Michiko shouted through the intercom, and the man froze for a moment. “Please, we need the next clue!” In the camera she could see Ichida banging on the door that seperated C and D, a silent film of pleading for the next clue. The man unfroze, and left the carriage without looking back, and Michiko’s heart sank, the hope in her chest deflating as she watched the man run out of the station.

“Well then.” Chishiya spoke as the train rolled out of the station, “what do we do now then conductor?”

Michiko didn’t know.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 5

♤♡◇♧

The woman watched the train roll out of Sumiyoshi Station with a contemplative eye. Many souls were still occupying the carriages, competing with the gamemakers for their lives. Part of her wished they would all make it, if that meant the young girl who’d led them so seamlessly and had dissected the game so quickly would survive.

Clubs games were never her specialty. She preferred the logic based puzzles of diamonds, her field of work lending itself quite easily to their nature. Clubs games meant relying on strangers far too much, which was something that could mean life or death in this world. It was difficult to place trust in people when the next day they could wind up being your enemy.

It was rare that she ever found potential recruits in games. Despite being an executive, she had hardly ever brought promising players before Hatter. But the girl who had led them from the conductor’s cabin had shown great promise. Ann almost wanted to stay to see if she would make it to end of the game. But doing that was far too risky.

As she exited the station into the night, Ann hoped that she might come across the girl again. She would make a prospective candidate to Hatter’s mission.

For the time being, she prepared herself for the long walk back.

♤♡◇♧

Michiko stared down at the camera’s numbly, her mind blank of any ideas. Without anyone in Carriage D, no one was able to pass on the clue, leavin them at a standstill.

She broke out of her trance when the intercom sounded.

WELCOME TO OGAWAMACHI STATION

“Only six more stations until we reach our deadline. Whatever shall we do miss Counductor?” Chishiya spoke up again, voice annoyingly calm for their situation. Didn’t he know that if they didn’t clear the game, he would die? As the final cabin down the line, they were at the worst disadvantage. They would be the last to be given the chance of escape.

He definitely knew the consequences for failing to clear the game, it just almost seemed like he didn’t care. It was the same with the Pandora’s Box game. He stood on the sidelines and watched as everyone else scurried about trying to figure things out. But he looked upon the action as if he already had all the answers, likeif he was merely playing with them like a cat would play with its food before the kill. Like… Like he was testing them.

Was he testing her right now?

Did he want to see if she would figure it out? If she would be the one to save their lives? 

But she didn’t have the answer. They’d had such a solid system that worked . If that man had just stayed they would be near completion. It had all broken down in front o her eyes and she didn’t know what to do next. And Chishiya’s comments were not helping at all.

“I- I don’t know.” She whispered.

“Hmm, shame. I suppose we await our deaths then?” 

“Well maybe if you actually helped instead of just standing there we might have figure things out by now.” She shot back, tired of his mockery.

He only raised his eyebrow, her scathing remark having no effect on his confident stare. Shaking her head, she turned back to the screens, seeing if their was anything more she could unravel so they would actually live.

Only to find that Ichida had taken matters into his own hands. The man was hitting an unknown object against the window between Carriages C and D with all of the force he could muster. As Michiko got over her surprise at seeing the man in action, she leaned closer, attempting to make out what Ichida had found.

 It was the fire axe, one which every cabin had been provided with in case of emergency. She had seen someone use it against the outer windows earlier, failing to get them to dent. But it seemed to be working on the glass between the carriages, if the cracks coming through the grainy footage were any indication.

Eventually, Ichida leapt back as the glass shattered, and the hope swelled up in Michiko’s chest once again. The man climbed through the hole with a swift agility that was surprsing for his age. 

They screeched to a stop at the next station.

WELCOME TO JIMBOCHO STATION

Instead of taking the opportunity to flee, Ichida turned as soon as his feet met the floor. Michiko watched him read the display board above the door he’d climbed through, words that were unreadable to her, before shouting through to the high school girl they’d collected at the beginning of the game. The girl immediately lept into action, her eyes searching the carriage around her and Ichida climbed back though. 

Michiko’s chest swelled further when they both lunged at a poster on the wall, tearing it down, the high school girl kneeling down and picking the coin up as it clattered to the floor.

Once Ichida and his younger companion located it, the old police officer gave a camera a nod and a thumbs up, a proud smile lit upon his face as the girl passed the coin through. His eyes then turned to the display board, passing the message through to the next cabin.

Michiko’s shoulders sagged in relief as the coin was passed on, and she collected it when it reached the conductor cabin. They’d lost time, but Ichida’s quick thinking had them back on track to surviving the game. 

WELCOME TO KUDANSHITA STATION

The doors to Carriage C rolled open, and Ichida raced out, followed quickly by his younger companion. A pounding on the window next to her had Michiko flinching and snapping her head to the sound, only to find Ichida’s tired expression staring through at her. He struck at the window with the fire axe, but the windows to the outside world were far more reinforced than the ones inside. His strikes didn’t make a single crack, and Michiko watched his face into helplessness as the train began moving again. Before he disappeared from view, Michiko placed her hand to the cold glass, her face hardening as she nodded to him. A sincere message that she would do her best to survive.

Thankfully, the other two cabins didn’t see fit to follow Ichida’s example of breaking the glass into the next cabin, Carriage B quickly finding their coin, passing it through and escaping at the next station.

The only ones left were Chishiya, the woman in Carriage A and Michiko herself. And two stations between them and death.

The woman with the ponytail in Carriage A, found her coin quickly and passed it through to them. Mchiko set it down with the others. There were now eight of them. Eight letters. E, D, L, I, A, D, N, E. There was no doubt in Michiko’s mind that these letters spelt out a word. But her English wasn’t good enough to figure out the word through the letters alone.

So she turned back to the ponytailed woman, shouting through the window. “What’s the clue?”

The woman’s face distorted in confusion.

She mouthed something, as if trying to speak through the glass. But no sound came through.

Dread settled into Michiko’s stomach like a heavy rock. Blinking away the momentary shock, she tried to shout through the window again. “I can’t hear you!” The woman stared blankly back, before slowing down her words to try and convey the message to Michiko. The girl shook her head, unable to understand what she was saying. “Do you have any idea?” She asked Chishiya.

“None at all.” Bile rose up in Michiko’s throat. They were so close, and every second that ticked away was a moment closer to losing all of their lives. They were down to the final straw. They couldn’t lose now.

She looked down at the coins collected in her hands. Ironically, she couldn’t help but picture the image of Charon the Ferryman, who collected the coins of dead souls before ferrying them to the Underworld. She had collected all of these coins, and was leading a soul to the end of the line.

Michiko huffed in frustration, trying to figure out a solution. And as she did so, she took notice of the way her rapid breath fogged up the window. An idea formed swiftly in her mind. Using her breath, she fogged up the window even more, before quickly writing a message. She had to take a moment to figure out how to write it backwards so it was readable on the other side. 

Wiping away the steam on the window, she made eye contact with the woman on the other side, hoping she got the message. She nodded before using her own breath to fog up the window. Her fingers swiftly wrote out the characters on the window, passing along the final clue to the occupants of the Conductor's Cabin.

Something you don’t want to miss.

Michiko considered the phrase for a moment, watching it slowly disappear as the fog dissipated from the window, fading away into nothing.

She turned back to the coins, waiting tauntingly still in her palm, a random jumble of letters she had to try and decode. Something you don’t want to miss. E, D, L, I, A, D, N, E. Nothing made sense in her mind. She tried to decode the letters, but they were swimming in her vision.Just like when she was locked inside the storage cupboard of Hermes Furniture Store, the numbers above her head floating around as she felt the pressure of figuring them out. Of saving not only her life, but that of another as well. 

 Her English wasn’t good. She didn’t know many words. Especially longer words. A certain rearrangement of four letters stared up at her, mocking her. D, E, A, D. Dead. She knew that one at least. A concept that carried across all languages, each culture having their own way of honouring it.

Charon the Ferryman, who transported the dead across the River Styx. The train transporting them to their own end.

WELCOME TO AKEBONOBASHI STATION

The ponytailed woman escaped, giving them one last regretful look before she stepped on the platform. There were only two of them left now.

Heaviness pooled in her stomach, a tide of dread growing stronger with each passing second they came closer to it. To death. They continued to edge closer with her lack of action. Would that be the last thought she had before it ended? That she would be responsible for the deaths of at least one other person on this train. 

She and Chishiya would sit on the train waiting to reach the final destination, knowing what awaited them on the other side. She gave herself hope, helped lead the others to survival, only for her to be the one to fail at the final hurdle. She would be killing them both if she didn’t figure it out. 

Michiko turned away, finding it unbearable to look at her companion inside the conductor's cabin. The world had a cruel, fucked up sense of humour, putting her in this position, of turning her into Charon. She cursed it inside her head.

The train rolled to a stop. The end of the line, their final chance for victory. The voice called out on the intercom, distorted in Michiko’s mind, ringing fuzzily in her ears.

WELCOME TO SHINJUKU-SANCHOME STATION

THIS IS YOUR FINAL CHANCE TO ALIGHT THE TRAIN BEFORE IT

TERMINATES AT SHINJUKU STATION 

Michiko shook her head, tears pricking at the corner of her eye. “I can’t work it out. I’m killing us.”

There was sudden movement from beside her, and a rustle of fabric. A white-clothed arm reached out in front of her vision and grabbed all of the eight coins, depositing them one by one into the coin slot on the control panel.

The young girl looked up through blurred eyes at the blonde haired man, his face expressionless as he put the last coin in the slot, returning his hand to the pocket of his jacket, as if he just committed the most casual act instead of single-handedly saving both their lives.

The voice rang through the carriages again.

GAME CLEAR

CONGRATULATIONS

YOU MAY NOW EXIT THE TRAIN

The door beside them opened with a hiss, the sound cutting through the tension in the cabin. Chishiya waltzed past Michiko, stepping down onto the platform, before turning back to her and raising his eyebrows questioningly, “Well, are you coming?” 

The nonchalant tone of the words broke Michiko out of her stupor. She quickly wiped away the wetness at the corner of her eyes, clearing her throat, before stepping off the train to join him, pretending as if nothing happened. As if she wasn’t about to have a complete emotional break before meeting death.

A swift chill swept through the platform causing a shiver to run down Michiko’s spine as she stared at Chishiya’s back as the man walked in front of her. She realised something at that moment. Chishiya was an intelligent man. She had gathered that from their first game together. There were clues in his countenance that he knew every answer, that he figured the course of the game out quickly. But he withheld information on purpose, observing others to see what they would do instead. He played the exact same game this time around. Michiko was willing to bet he’d known the answer as soon as the clue was given, but waited till the very last moment before making his move and saving their lives. 

He may have saved them, but he was also playing with their lives at the same time. Dangling both of their souls by a thread for his own personal reasons. 

And Michiko realised, that made him dangerous. 

♤♡◇♧

Ichida’s breath heaved as he ran through the empty streets of Tokyo, the wind at his back edging him forwards. Footsteps followed behind him, the pink sneakers of the young teenage girl he’d picked up in the game slapping against the concrete. There was a tightness in his chest that he knew was caused by terror.

Terror that he wouldn’t get there in time. Terror that he would be too late. Terror that he would find her body splayed on the ground, cold, lifeless, dull eyes reflected back at him that lacked the fire that followed her in a raging inferno. 

Terror that he would be forced to relive the past by losing another he considered a daughter to him. 

Watching the train pull away with her still trapped inside was like getting stabbed in the chest with a hot poker. He had just found her again after she had been missing for two weeks, and he refused to lose her. His feet carried him, and he pushed himself forward like he was running over burning coals. The way through the streets was ingrained within him, instinctually guiding him where he needed to go. Shinjuku-Sanchome station was the last place they’d be able to depart. So Ichida would go there, and hope that she had made it off the train.

If he didn’t find her there, he’d search all of the stations between there and Kudanshita. And if she still didn’t appear, then and only then would he go to Shinjuku station, praying to all of the gods he could that he wouldn’t find her there, cold and lifeless. That he wouldn’t find her body. That he wouldn’t relive Himiko all over again, by being too late.

He turned the last corner to the station, and his legs stopped. His shoulders sagged, a relieved laughed escaping him, the lack of breath almost turning it into a wheeze. Emerging from the shadows of the station entrance, was a blonde-haired man in a white hoodie, strolling casually with his hands in his pockets. Behind him was a smaller figure, long hair blowing in the faint breeze and a sour look on her face that was directed at the blonde man. 

When her eyes turned to him, he saw them spark, the corners of her lips threatening to curl up into a grin. The constriction around his heart released, and it cried out upon seeing her, flesh and blood and life still running through her veins. The game hadn’t won. It hadn’t taken her from him.

His feet began moving, instinctually charging forward to meet her. Michiko did the same meeting him halfway. His arms automatically went out to bring her into a tight hug, but they held back upon remembering her aversion to physical contact. Instead, he lowered one hand hesitantly to her shoulder, placing it gently, testing the waters. He was delightfully surprised when she didn’t flinch, merely smiled back up at him.

A moment of silence passed between them, both quietly relieved to see the other still breathing. Ichida took another second to feel the girl’s shoulder under his palms, flesh still warm. Not freezing cold like Himiko’s hand was.

He cleared his throat before speaking, calming the heart that was racing in terror just moments beforehand, “You did well, I’m so proud.” There was more he wished to say. More he wished to express. Words left unsaid, hanging in the air between them. But it was not the right time, not in front of the two strangers he was aware were watching them like hawks.

Michiko’s head ducked away in clear embarrassment, and Ichida’s heart warmed to see her still acting herself, despite all of the near brushes with death that she had experienced. A figure blurred past him, the unexpected impact with Michiko almost knocking the girl off her feet. Ichida’s hand lost its contact with her shoulder as the other teenage girl that had been picked up in the game descended upon Michiko with a tight bear hug.

The older man saw the slight hitch in Michiko’s shoulder upon the assault. “Thank you, thank you!” The words spilled from the other girl's lips and she squeezed her arms around Michiko one last time before pulling back. Her hands stayed upon Michiko’s shoulders, “You saved us! I’m so happy you made it out too! Mr. Nakajima explained everything on the train. These games really kill people?” Ichida had done his best to explain in the simplest terms, knowing that time was limited. The girl seemed to take everything in stride, an unexpected beacon of positivity during the darkness they found themselves in.

Ichida was sure that once she had experienced the true horror in full, that shining light might begin to dim. 

A tense silence had settled amongst the remaining players, Ichida’s eyes shifting from the two girls to the blonde-haired stranger who still hung around, watching the action with a carefully veiled intrigue. The stranger met his gaze, raising a questioning eyebrow. The other man caused an unsettled feeling to emerge in Ichida’s gut. Unsure if he could trust the other man, he took a protective step towards the two girls, an action that elicited a slight smirk from the stranger.

Michiko grimaced, a slight shiver, from the wind or from the question Ichida didn’t know, coursing down her spine. She nodded. 

“That’s so awful.” The still nameless girl shook her head. “I’m glad I didn’t have to see that at all.”

An amused chuckle emerged from the blonde stranger's lips. “You will eventually though.” He spoke up from where he stood, just a few feet away from the trio. “That’s the nature of these games.” His tone was almost mocking the naive girl.

“You’re still here?” Michiko questioned, turning back around to face the stranger, “I thought you would’ve been on your way by now.”

The older man shrugged casually, hands still in his pockets, his eyes glinting in amusement. “You have information about this world. As soon as you wish to share it I’ll be on my way.”

Michiko scoffed at his answer, muttering to herself, “Asshole.” Ichida almost chuckled at the girl's bravado and lack of respect, something he’d been on the receiving end of many times. It was amusing seeing her turn her insolence towards someone else.

The officer piped up from his place at Michiko’s side, a protective shadow as he placed his hands on the two younger girls' shoulders, eyes flitting around the dark shadows of the night uneasily. “Before any of that, we should find a safe place to bunker down for the night. We can discuss the finer details after that. I’m sure we’re all tired.”

“And hungry.” Was Michiko’s only response to Ichida’s reasoning, eliciting another chuckle from the older man.

The rest of the group agreed, and the four of them left the front train station, walking back out into the streets. Behind them, the lights shut off in the station, leaving it in darkness.

Leaving it clear of any evidence of the events that had occurred there that night.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 5-6

♤♡◇♧

When Michiko was twelve, she transferred middle-schools for the first time. The reason? Shinobu Keiko. At first, Michiko thought her classmate was trying to make friends with her. It had been two years since that night, and Keiko was the first person to actually show her kindness. She gave her a smile, greeted her in the mornings and told off other people who laughed at her. She looked at her with eyes that held no hatred.

It was all a lie. 

Michiko made the mistake of opening up to Shinobu Keiko about who she really was, about who her parents were. Mahiru had told her to keep it a secret. For good reason as well. Keiko had smiled at her, told her she wouldn’t judge her for the actions of her parents. Michiko went home that night with hope in her heart that she’d finally found someone who could see through the monstrous perceptions her father left behind.

The next morning she walked into class to find her desk vandalized. Monster. Freak. Murderer’s Child. All that and more were scribbled and etched permanently into the wood. Michiko looked down at the words, angry tears springing to her eyes. Laughter erupted from the corner of the room, and Michiko turned to the group of girls whispering in the corner, looking at her with cruel smirks and too much hatred in their eyes for people as young as they were. 

And stood front and centre, lips curled up tauntingly, was Shinobu Keiko. Gone was the sweet smile she had given her yesterday. 

Michiko could feel the anger rising in her chest, burning and raging inside of her. But she quelled it, determined to prove to these immature children that she wasn’t the same monster her father was. She sat at her vandalized desk and shut out the whispers.

She spent the following month as an outcast. No one dared approach her, either scared of her or scared of becoming like her. Of being cast out like some wretched vermin. She endured everything. The vandalism of her property, having to clean up her backpack or re-write notes because her notebook had been chucked down the toilet bowl. The taunting comments as she stood by the shoe-lockers. The shoving in the hallways.

But there was one thing that made her snap. 

“You should just go and die like your stupid mother.”

Michiko could take the insults about her dad. She could even handle them calling her a monster. But nobody spoke badly about her mother. Ever.

Michiko ended up suspended because she broke Shinobu Keiko’s nose and ripped out a chunk of her hair. As Mahiru dragged her out of the principal's office, she passed by the girl on the way out, holding an ice pack to her nose and being fussed over by the teachers. Catching her eye, she sent a smirk in satisfaction when Keiko flinched away from her cold gaze. Good. Let her think she was a monster. Michiko found herself not caring anymore if people thought that way. The Shinobu Keiko’s of the world could be scared of her all they wanted.

Endo Kirika was the name of the girl they’d picked up from the station. 

She insisted they call her Kirika or Kiri for short. 

Michiko learned very quickly that she didn’t much care for Kirika. She was loud. Too loud. And far too bubbly for her liking. She liked to talk a lot, filling the silence with the most random discussion topics she could think of. And she smiled far too much for their current circumstances. She reminded Michiko a little too much of Shinobu Keiko. 

And she asked a lot of questions. Michiko tried to give her the most curt answers possible, but the other girl wouldn’t take the hint that all she wanted at this moment was a little bit of silence. 

The two girls walked in front, with Ichida following behind, providing a lookout over the two younger girls. Chishiya brought up the rear, staying quite a few metres away from the rest of the group, if only to avoid Kirika’s incessant questions. She tried turning the conversation to him at one point, only to receive nothing but a blank look and raised eyebrow from the blonde haired man. Quickly learning he wasn’t worth the bother, she focused her attention on Michiko. She could imagine the older man was thankful for her unwilling sacrifice.

All of a sudden, Michiko stopped as her eyes caught something, turning her head to look into the window of a store beside them.

“What about here?” She called out to the group, nodding towards the shop. It was a supply shop selling gear for all kinds of outdoor activities. Camping, hiking, mountain climbing. It was a perfect place for them to stay for the night, providing everything they might need for the coming week. Sleeping bags, camping stoves, clothing, solar powered lamps. It was perfect.

They entered hesitantly, each of them taking stock of their surroundings to make sure the place wasn’t already occupied by someone not friendly enough to ask questions first.

Chishiya was the first to move, grabbing a battery powered lamp, before stalking behind the counter, finding batteries on display. Grabbing them, he powered up the torch, the dim light casting eerie shadows on the walls. Placing the lamp down on the counter, his eyes went back to searching the shop, before wandering off towards the back, paying no mind to the other three. Michiko watched him go with a distrustful frown.

There was a beat of silence, before Ichida began guiding the girls through the building, having them pick out supplies they needed. He also found a warm fleece for Kirika, who had been noticeably shivering in the cold night air, still dressed only in her flimsy school uniform. “There should be some nice warm trousers round here as well, I’ll find some.” Kirika gave the older man a small, grateful smile, bowing her head as she wrapped a blanket around herself. Tiredness must have been winning her over, as she had finally stopped with her chattering, and stifled a yawn. Michiko found herself glad of the newfound peace. Her eyes remained on Ichida as the older man continued to the back of the store, in search of more clothes and other supplies they might need, leaving the two younger girls by themselves.

The silence between them dragged out, marred only by the rustling of Michiko’s backpack as she unzipped it. Rummaging around inside, she grabbed some food, dropping a pile of protein bars on the blanket in front of her, before taking out a couple of packets of instant ramen, hoping they could find a camping stove to cook them with. A hot meal after all the stress of the previous game would go down well in her mind.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt the glaring of eyes on her. Pausing, she looked up at the other girl sitting opposite her, to see her eyes fixated on Michiko as she set the supplies down. When she was caught staring, she ducked her head quickly, but Michiko noticed the way her eyes flickered to the pile of protein bars, and could sense the hungry gaze.

Hesitantly, as if reaching out to a starving dog, Michiko reached down and handed one across to the other girl. Kirika lifted her gaze back up, sending Michiko a thankful smile as she took the bar. The rustling broke the tense silence between them as she unwrapped it and began scoffing it down like a ravenous beast. Michiko watched her warily, and once the other girl realised she had eyes on her, she shifted her eyes in embarrassment, slowing down her chewing.

Swallowing, she started up with her questions again, voice quiet now it was just the two of them. “Mr. Nakajima- he explained things a little, but- just what is this place exactly?”

Michiko zipped up her backpack, shoving it to the side, “The games happen every night, you have to play them.”

“But, the games kill people?” Kirika questioned.

Michiko nodded, “it was a miracle we finished the game with all of us alive, there’s been games that are a lot more…” Pausing, she attempted to find the right words, “brutal.” Closing her eyes, she could still feel the warm spray of blood on her face, the deep red covering her hands, the thud of Hajime’s body hitting the floor. Her stomach quivered.

“So then,” Kirika’s voice brought her back from the brink of descending into terrible nightmares, “why do you play them? If there’s a chance of dying.”

Allowing a wry smirk to overcome her features, Michiko answered her question, “have you still got your phone from the last game?”

Eyebrows scrunched together, Kirika brought out the phone, switching it back on. She searched through the apps, eyes landing on one labeled ‘VISA’. Michiko watched her click it open, eyes reading the writing displayed on the screen, no doubt telling her she had seven days left on her VISA.

“Visa?” Kirika looked up at Michiko.

“Once it runs out, you have to play again.” Michiko explained.

“Or?”

Like she had once before, when explaining to Ichida, Michiko placed two fingers under her chin, miming shooting upwards, a natural act of playing the ruthless vermin society made her out to be coming out to play. Kirika, having received the message clearly, let out a quiet ‘oh’ .

Michiko huffed under her breath in dry amusement, before laying back into her nest of blankets, staring blankly up at the ceiling. She was almost glad, surprisingly, to not be alone. Because it was when she was alone, the memories were most likely to reemerge. The distraction of the rustling and the chewing as Kirika finished eating held them at bay for the moment. 

♤♡◇♧

In the back of the store, Ichida had located a section of women's clothing, gathering up various options for the two younger girls. The voices of Michiko and Kirika had faded into soft murmurs as he went deeper into the well of supplies.

A level voice interrupted his searching, tone almost edging upon curious, “Don’t you think allying with a stranger is quite the risk, given the situation?”

The older officer turned to see Chishiya leaned against the wall next to them, arms folded. The blonde man fixed him with an examining stare that made Ichida want to shiver. It was cold. Clinical. Something he had only seen in the most despicably indifferent of criminals. He turned away, gulping uneasily, going back to his task of raking through clothes to find something suitable. “Michiko seems to somewhat trust you, even if it’s clear that she doesn’t like you all that much and thinks you’re an asshole. She seems to value you somehow, otherwise she would’ve had no trouble in having you leave.” He admitted. Despite his own reservations of the stranger before him, how he instilled such an unsettling sensation within Ichida, he trusted Michiko’s judgments.

“And you trust the world of a child?” Chishiya questioned insistently.

Ichida hummed, turning back to the other man, meeting his indifferent gaze. “I’ve known that girl for quite a while, she’s got a good head on her shoulders, intelligent, even if her judgment is lacking in some aspects of her life. But she’s good at reading people’s intentions. And so am I.” He took a pause before continuing, “We both know you’re here for a certain reason, but we also know you currently have no bad intentions towards us.”

An amused smirk played on Chishiya’s lips, deciding to push more, “What if you were wrong about my intentions? What would you do if I only stuck around to harm you or those girls, to cast you aside to save myself?” 

“If you actually wanted to hurt any of us, I fear you would’ve done so already.” Ichida confided, “The games may be a different story…” Ichida paused, leveling Chishiya with an intense, intimidating stare, knowing the man would read him well enough to know that if he ever lifted his hand against the two girls, there would be consequences, “but I’d like to think I would be enough to protect them both from any terrible intentions you might have.”

Chishiya continued to push, and Ichida quelled the irritation that rose with every word that escaped his sly lips, “And what about the other one. You just met her today, why decide to bring her along?”

Ichida considered his answer for a moment, eyes glazing as he thought back to the game they played that night, and his time spent trapped with the scared young girl they had picked up. During their time after the game, she’d put up a facade of easiness, hiding behind her non-stop chattering. But under that mask, she was a terrified, flighty bird, clinging onto any sense of normalcy she could.

“She may have trouble adapting, I feel like she hasn’t seen the true horror of the games yet. I don’t want her to be alone when she does.“

“Why?” Chishiya kept prodding. 

“I’m an officer of the law Chishiya, it should only make sense that I have a deep sense of justice.” Ichida smiled wryly. What irony, that an officer of the law would find himself in a place without such things as justice, where all rules of the modern world were thrown out of the window like trash. Kirika wasn’t the only one putting up a facade. This world rattled him deeply, it went against all of his morals. Yet he had to remain strong. For the two girls he’d vowed to take care of.

Chishiya had one last question, “This world doesn’t play by the rules of the normal world. Most people tend to be selfish in situations like this. If it came down to it, would you choose to put their survival above yours?” 

Ichida answered without hesitation.

♤♡◇♧

As the night settled down and the chill winds settled in, so did the group settle down to rest for the remaining hours of the night. Ichida soon came back to join the girls, and after making sure they had eaten properly, the three of them began drifting off to sleep in their make-shift fortress of blankets and sleeping bags.

Chishiya made himself at home a little further away from the trio, valuing his space as he thought over everything he’d heard from the older officer that night. This group of strays were doomed, he’d decided. There was nothing of value here apart from whatever information Michiko held. He would question her about what she knew in the morning then he’d be on his way. There was no point in staying here knowing these three wouldn’t last long in this world. They would be each other’s dooms.

With plans forming in his head, and mind at ease, he too, drifted off.

♤♡◇♧

The sun rose in the morning, casting shadows through the windows of the store. Michiko laid awake, staring at the ceiling, as the other two nearby slept peacefully, escaping their brutal world just for an extra few minutes. She had been here for a good couple of hours, her eyes dry and itchy from the last night's disrupted sleep. 

Rustling reached her ears from further into the store, and footsteps followed not too long after, passing by her cocoon of blankets. Her eyes flickered to the side, watching Chishiya’s shadow pass in front of the light seeping through the store’s windows, exiting the store without even looking at her or the other two still slumbering.

Sitting up, allowing the blankets to fall off of her, she ignored the incessant rumbling of her stomach, not wanting to wake the other two by rustling around in her food bag. Swallowing, she stood, careful not to make any noise, and as quiet as a mouse, she snuck out of the store. 

Chishiya was watching the silent streets, eyes, as always, remaining alert. He never even turned to look at her as she settled by his side, leaning against the window also casting her gaze out to the world beyond. His only acknowledgement of her presence was a slight tilt of his head in her direction.

The younger girl was the one to break the silence of the late morning, “The answer at the end of the game yesterday, what was it?” She asked him the question that had been running through her mind insistently the previous evening.

“All these hours later, and you still haven't figured it out.” The corner of Chishiya's lips turned upward slightly, “Perhaps I overestimated your intelligence.”

“Forgive me, I stopped caring about school a while back.” Michiko responded wryly.

“I thought everyone your age cared about your grades. Aren’t you all clamoring to make it into the best highschools at this point?” Chishiya kept weaving around the subject.

Michiko grew quickly tired of his games, “Cut the bullshit and just tell me.” 

The older man paused, his eyes shifting across to her slightly, before going back to looking down the street. “Deadline.” He finally responded in english.

“Deadline?” Michiko repeated the word exactly as she heard it, not quite understanding its meaning in the foreign language.

“Something you don’t want to miss.” He switched back to Japanese, translating the word, “Deadline.”

Michiko pondered the word, and it now made sense in her head. That was indeed the answer to the final clue, she just didn’t know the English word for it. She couldn’t help but notice the irony, with them having beaten the deadline of the game, and the word being the final solution. At least Chishiya’s intelligence came into use at the final hurdle, even if she couldn’t quite fully place her trust in the man. “And how long did you know the answer? Before you decided to help end the game?”

Chishiya hummed casually, “I think you already know the answer to that question. Unless I also overestimated your intuition?”

“My intuition tells me not to trust you.” Michiko responded candidly, finally turning her head to face him fully, eyes locking onto his.

“Guess I didn’t overestimate it then. You shouldn’t.” He responded.

An uneasy silence once again settled between the two, as Michiko ran his words over in her mind again, before she broke it once again. “The games are categorized by the card suits.” She could sense then shift in his posture, ever so slightly, as his interest piqued at her words. He stood just a little bit straighter, head raised just a little. His eyes, so much like a cat, watching her sharply. She tried not to let that examining gaze affect her like it had before. “ Diamonds are intelligence games, Clubs are team games, Spades are tests of physical strength, and Hearts ,” She paused for a moment, remembering Hajime’s words during the chase game, “a Hearts game is a game of deception and betrayal.”

“Hm,” Chishiya said upon hearing the new information, “I had a feeling the suits related to the type of game, I just hadn’t quite figured out exactly how.”

Michiko cycled through the information she knew about this world, remembering Arata’s words after the Four of Spades. She debated sharing any of this next information with the man. But despite not trusting him, she couldn’t deny his intelligence. If there was a safe place for survivors, then perhaps he could be an asset towards finding it. “I think there’s somewhere out there where other survivors have gathered.” She said carefully, watching his reaction.

“Ah?” He said simply, however, his head tilted towards her in the most miniscule manner, and she could tell she had his full attention.

“It was something Arata - the guy we met in the first game - said. He told me he hoped I’d find the Beach .” She continued

“ Beach ?” Chishiya tasted the word on his tongue.

Michiko nodded, “I believe it might be a place we can find other survivors, maybe they’ve also learned more about this world. Perhaps that’s somewhere we can gather more information.”

“We?” Chishiya’s eyebrows raised.

“I know you’re probably planning to leave now you have the information you’ve been looking for…” Michiko trailed off, setting her eyes out towards the streets instead of him - feigning indifference so she wouldn’t seem desperate for his help - before trying to figure out how to word her next proposition, “I think we should stick together. If we work together, maybe we can find  the beach quickly, in the next week, before we have to play another game.”

Chishiya pondered her words for a moment, “And what makes you think I’d even want to go to this Beach ? Maybe I want to keep playing the games and learn about this world by myself?”

“Because you seem like the type of guy who would want to find the best solution to situations. And this is the best solution.” She reasoned.

She was almost taken aback by her own confidence in the statement. This world so far was incredibly unpredictable, and perhaps all that was waiting for them at this Beach was merely another fire. Perhaps there was no escape for this metaphorical frying pan. But she knew that Arata was at the Beach . And Arata seemed like an honest man, so she somewhat trusted his word. If he told her to find it, it must be the best option for them.

And her reasons for attempting to keep Chishiya with them was purely for nothing other than strength in numbers. If they had to face this unknown she would rather have people around her that she could trust. And while she couldn’t trust Chishiya himself , she could at least trust his apparent sense of self-preservation.

Chishiya stayed silent, not gracing Michiko with a response other than the permanent half smirk at the corner of his lip. She sighed agitatedly, closing her eyes for a second, “It’s your decision. If you think it’s worth sticking around, we could use your brain. But if you want to go back off on your own, then be my guest.” And with that, she left the blonde man outside, venturing back inside the store where the other two had finally begun stirring from their sleep.

Ichida, who had awoken a few minutes before and looked like he had been listening in on their conversation, eyed the man in the white hood who remained outside. “What’s the verdict?” He asked.

Michiko shrugged, before leaning down and grabbing a protein bar from the dwindling supply in the middle of their make-shift camp. “We’ll see if he stays or he goes.”

Kirika, who was sitting up, rubbing at her eyes, piped up, “Can we even trust him?”

“Probably not.” Michiko stated candidly, “But he’s smart. Only time will tell if he’s our ally or our enemy.” Michiko had the grace to not tell Kirika she didn’t know if she could even trust her. But she was naive, and as annoying as she was, she was also clueless about this world. She hadn’t witnessed its true horror yet. She would take that ignorance over Chishiya’s sharp, unpredictable mind. At least she wouldn’t have to be constantly wary around the other girl, even if she had a problem with understanding boundaries.

Michiko finished off her meagre breakfast, brushing off her hands whilst looking at the diminishing pile of supplies, before grabbing her bag. “I’m gonna go out and look for more food.”

“Okay,” Ichida acknowledged, before rummaging in his pocket and handing her something.”Take this.”

Michiko reached out and grabbed the knife from him, gulping at the feel of the cool metal in her palm. She remembered him finding it in the days they spent together before the Six of Clubs. “You never know when you might run into trouble, you especially .” He chuckled. Michiko was thankful for his attempt at some sort of normalcy. It helped to quell the demons this world brought out of her. 

The younger girl scoffed weakly in return, but sent him a nod and pocketed the weapon. 

When she left the store, Chishiya was nowhere to be seen. She tried her best not to be mildly disappointed. They could’ve used his brain, she told herself upon noticing that disappointment. 

She had hardly made it thirty feet down the street before a voice called out behind her. “Wait, Michiko!” She turned, allowing Kirika to catch up. The other girl had since changed out of her school uniform, into some shorts and a plain t-shirt, a fleecy hoodie over the top. “Can I come with you? I want to know more about this world.” 

Michiko swallowed down an annoyed sigh, and nodded back to the store, “Ichida can tell you everything you need to know.”

“But I wanna go with you. The city’s so empty, I want to explore.” She reasoned.

Michiko withheld from rolling her eyes. If the girl wanted to tag along, then fine, as long as she didn’t cause her any disturbance. A wish that was very unlikely to be granted.

“Fine, just don’t get too distracted. I don’t want to take too long.”

♤♡◇♧

It was times like this Michiko mourned the loss of her skateboard. After teaming up with Ichida, he’d made the logical argument that it would only get in the way during games. It was best to travel light, in the case of an emergency as well, he’d said. In the case they’d need to run, was what he had truly meant. It sat gathering dust back in the old record store, the image of the cat flipping off anyone who happened to pass by and look through the door. Two skateboards she’d lost to this world. What a tragedy.

The two young girls entered the first convenience store they found, just a couple of blocks down from the camping store. As they entered, they were overwhelmed by the sour stench rotting fruit, Michiko’s nose scrunching up in disgust as she pressed her sleeve against it. The lack of power in the fridges, had allowed any fresh food to decompose, filling the store with an acrid smell that was in every way unpleasant. They both held their sleeves up to their noses, doing their best to block out the overpowering scent. Kirika held herself back from gagging, swallowing it back down as she followed Michiko through the towering shelves. 

The only light to grace the store were the miniscule rays peeking through the windows, casting the majority of the store in eerie shadows. What would’ve been a place of brightness and gatherings of friendship was now empty and desolate.

Michiko would often come to places like this with her mother when she was young. They would sit at the windows and slurp away at their instant ramen, laughing over the manga panels in the magazines that her mother would read to her. She always loved the one about the pirates, the one with the straw hat. The man with the three-swords was her favourite character, the doctor with the spotted hat a close second.

They came across the aisle of  instant ramen, and Michiko began filling her bag with what was left on the mostly empty shelves, not even bothering to look at flavours. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. They couldn’t afford to be fussy. Next to her, Kirika began doing the same, striking up conversation and shattering the wary silence within the store.

“So how long have you been here?” She asked, “You’ve clearly played more games than I have, and you know this world better. You must’ve been here for a long while.”

Michiko counted the days in her head upon Kirika’s overestimating perception. “About a week.” She looked over and noted the mild surprise on Kirika’s face, and raised her brow, “not as long as you thought, right?”

The other girl shook her head just slightly, her lips pouting, “Then just how many games have you played? You did so well at the last one so I thought you must’ve been in a lot of them.”

“That was my third.” he admitted easily, before fixing the other girl with a hard stare, “Do you want my advice? You need to get used to the nature of these games, adapt quickly. That’s the only way to survive.” Michiko stated. If Kirika was going to stick around, she’d need to learn to hand;e things by herself and be ready for anything. That was the only way to survive this world it seemed.

“Is that what you did?” Kirika asked.

Michiko zipped up her bag firmly, swinging it onto her back as she walked further down the aisles, searching for readily-available snacks. There were more protein and cereal bars in the next aisle over.  She pointed to them, and Kirika began filling her bag. “Well, let's just say I’m no stranger to turning myself into a monster.” That was all Michiko said, before making her way towards the door, her defenses putting themselves in place, hoping to scare the other girl off enough to prevent her from prodding too much.

Kirika paused a moment at her snarky tone, before zipping her bag and jogging to follow. Michiko, from her place outside the door, watched as she stopped upon something catching her eye. Grinning, Kirika kneeled down and grabbed a few boxes of strawberry Pocky on the shelf. Shoving them in the side pocket of her bag, she opened the one box left in her hand, offering it over to Michiko, who was waiting outside. She stepped out to join her, sunlight reflecting off her cheeks and her eyes scrunched up in delight. Michiko eyed the box, unsure of the other girl's intentions. 

“Have one, they’re my favourite!” Kirika stated. 

Michiko reached out hesitantly, and took a stick from the box. Kirika’s smile only got brighter, like it had absorbed the sun itself, and the girl skipped off down the road, back in the direction of the camping store. Michiko’s eyes followed her, baffled. She couldn’t get a good read on the other girl, and it made her wary of her. There was no way a single individual could be that purely happy. Especially in this world. Especially after encountering Michiko’s walls. 

No one had ever smiled at her like that. With that much joyful abandon.

With cautious steps, she followed behind the other young girl, watching her closely, suspicions arousing.

When they made it back to the store, they heard voices trickling out the open doorway. Michiko’s brow furrowed. She was sure they had left Ichida by himself, so just who could he be talking to?

As the two entered, she caught sight of the white hoodie, the dry, shoulder length blonde hair. She missed Kirika’s expression falling slightly, her eyes fixed on the familiar casual stance. 

They had been away for barely an hour, yet, within the time they were away Chishiya had returned. The man gave them a casual, almost friendly wave as he sat by the makeshift camp they had built. 

Michiko held back her smile.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 6-7

♤♡◇♧

The pattering of rain filled the silence of the store, as a downpour raged on in the dark of the night. Droplets of water trickled down the opposing side of the window, racing each other towards the bottom. They left small trails in their wake. Michiko’s dark eyes tracked one singular drop as it fell down the window, disappearing when it reached the bottom edge, and her eyes flickered up, finding another and repeating the process. She sat by the window, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders to trap the meagre warmth the store provided as shelter from the cold. Her forehead rested on the glass, without regard to the chill it sent down the left side of her face.

After becoming painfully bored of following raindrops, her eyes caught the orange glow reflecting on the inside of the window. The portable heater they had located was the source of the light, as it provided some extra warmth to their current base. She could make out the shifting, blurry reflection of Ichida and Kirika in the light, their soft murmurs of background conversation being blocked out by the heavy downpour hitting the window next to her.

She couldn’t spot the reflection of the blonde haired shadow that had no doubt kept to his own space, locked in his own thoughts.

The group had decided it would be best to stay at the camping store for one more day, regrouping and gathering the supplies they needed to move on. They had spent the rest of the day discussing plans, figuring out where to go next, and how best to locate the possible safe haven named the Beach .

They had found a map, checked off potential places to investigate, most being on the outskirts of Tokyo by the bay.

Ichida also suggested swinging by his precinct to check the armoury for any weapons potentially left behind. Ebisu wasn’t too far away, he’d claimed. It was a dangerous world they had found themselves in, and it was best to be prepared, he had reasoned. He’d then offered to teach them all how to handle a gun, convincing them it might be necessary for their survival, before switching up the subject  getting started on another simple dinner of instant noodles. Michiko was a little whiplashed from the total flip of subject matter. She supposed it was the nature of their world, one minute discussing something so serious as the matter of their survival, to something so mundane like dinner plans.

Now, they had all retreated into their own spaces, winding down before bedtime in their own ways.

A light laugh broke Michiko out of her reverie, and she shifted her focus from the reflection in the window, turning to watch the physical figures in the middle of the store. They had moved display cases and clothes racks to the sides of the shop, creating quite a substantial space where they had spread out a mass of sleeping bags, blankets and pillows. Ichida and Kirika sat comfortably in this man-made nest, murmuring soft conversation and sharing light laughs.

Michiko watched a smile light up on Kirika’s face as Ichida shared a joke, the soft light glinting in her eyes. Her stomach fluttered uneasily, still unsure of how the other girl could be so carefree and jovial. It seemed that her life hadn’t been twisted upside down by tragedy yet, not in the way Michiko’s had. She felt sorry for when the true reality of their situation was exposed to her, and she witnessed the brutality of this world. Would she still keep smiling then?

She dragged her eyes away from the soft, upwards curve of her mouth, as a firm hand planted onto the other girl’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Michiko’s gut twisted at the small, affectionate display, her mood turning sour at the ease shared between the older officer and the younger girl. They had barely known each other for a day, and there was already a sense of comfortability between the two. They were so easily sharing smiles, and laughs at this stage and yet…

Yet it had taken Michiko months to get to where she stood with Ichida. To open up to him. She had barely started to put her trust into him, nevermind being able to smile that widely in his presence, to be that relaxed. She hated it.

However, she couldn’t bring herself to hate them. Couldn’t blame them. She understood that some people were like that, despite being unable to understand how people could so easily place their trust in others. Maybe this was how normal people acted around each other? Maybe, it was her that was different. Was she too damaged to be able to smile like that? Like Kirika was smiling now?

She turned her gaze away as it became too unbearable for her to watch such a scene for much longer. Her eyes went back to watching the midnight rain racing down the window, unable to put a name to the sick feeling in her stomach as she watched the quickly building bond between the two.

♤♡◇♧

Chishiya could not fathom the reason why he had chosen to return.

At first, he was confident in his decision to walk away. There was no sense in sticking around a venture doomed to fail. He was always better off alone, finding his own way in the world. He understood solitude like an old friend, he’d grown up with it after all. There was nothing else the trio could provide him. He had gotten what he needed quickly and vanished without a word. Without a look back.

Yet, as he had trailed the streets of Shinjuku, an uneasiness grew in his gut that he couldn’t control. He thought back on his conversation with the police officer, to everything he had observed with the three of them, to his time spent in the first game with Michiko. The girl had a brain, that was clear. He may have overestimated her intelligence slightly. From what he’d observed, she wasn’t academically gifted, but rather, she had the intelligence and common sense of one who navigated the streets from the back of their hand. She was quick to perceive things, highly observant, a trait the common lot of human beings lacked. She could be a useful ally in the games, or someone he could use to his own benefit if the time ever came.

Meanwhile the police officer could help in areas where Chishiya lacked. Whilst games of the mind were where Chishiya’s comfort lay, he admitted he wasn’t physically gifted. And Michiko had said there were games that were more… physically-inclined. She had even played one with the officer. Chishiya worked his way around his weaker areas well enough, and he was sure if it came down to it, he could fashion weapons to aid him in those types of games. But having someone who had the physical prowess he lacked might be useful. He also had a bleeding heart, and clearly cared about Michiko. A trait that could be easily manipulated in a time of need. 

The wild card was the other. The smiling girl they picked up in the last game. Chishiya’s first impression of the girl was that she was a pest. A parasite within the group they had formed. She was naive, and naivety could get you and others killed in this world. She hadn’t seen the true horrors of the games, having had it easy for a first timer. There was no telling how she would act in a true life or death situation. Which could be a problem. Despite the sunny personality and overly positive attitude, Chishiya couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Usually reading people was one of his finer skills, but the girl made it difficult to get a true grasp on her. 

Overall, Chishiya’s thoughts were divided. His mind knew they were doomed for failure, yet something in him wanted to return. He tried to put logic to this feeling, reasoning that it was purely for his own amusement, to see how things turned out. That’s what he told himself as his feet turned him around. 

Now he sat in the store as the midnight rain pattered on outside the window, the sound intruding into the quietness of the store. He had been watching the other three all night once again, taking note of the dynamics from his own corner. Kirika had immediately wormed her way to the officer’s side, giggling away as the older man told her jokes and stories. Like himself, Michiko had taken herself off to her own space by the window, a pensive look on her face. At one point, she had turned around to the other two, several emotions flashing across her face in a matter of seconds. Her eyes slightly narrowing, eyebrows scrunching, the subtle shifts painting a picture of jealousy and longing. Eventually her face fell in resignation as she watched the other two, before looking back out to watch the rain.

Chishiya observed her solitude, the yearning, the confusion of human emotion and felt an unwilling twinge in his gut. It was something he recognised deeply, from a boy he used to be long ago. A boy he had buried when he had figured out the way of the world.

He wrenched his eyes away from the sight, not wanting to be reminded of times long passed.

♤♡◇♧

When the rain cleared and morning came around once more, the group of four rose early, sharing food with little conversation, their words mainly focused on the day's plans. Chishiya had decided to go off by himself, searching for certain supplies he hadn’t felt the need to share with the group.

Michiko had volunteered to go off with Ichida, back to his precinct near Ebisu. They had a longer walk ahead of them, over an hour. They had plans to see if they could find any bikes or scooters lingering in the empty streets to make the trip easier. Michiko had joked with the man that had she kept her skateboard the trip would be easier. Ichida had laughed her off, saying he would never in his life get on the back of a ‘death trap’ as he’d called it.

Kirika had volunteered to remain around the area of the camping store, searching the shops for any more mundane supplies they would need. 

They would meet back at their base by sundown at the latest, spending another night there before moving on. 

And so, with a plan cemented, they were off. Michiko followed Ichida’s lead as he navigated through the streets of Tokyo, making their way down towards Ebisu. Michiko was trapped in her own mind once again, unable to get the images from the previous night out of her head. 

The older man noticed her glazed eyes, unseeing, and nudged her, breaking Michiko out of her state. She blinked owlishly, looking up at the officer.

“You okay there Michiko, you seem distracted.” He asked. Michiko nodded softly, not trusting her words. Ichida kept prodding, “I know something’s bothering you, what’s up.”

The younger girl chewed at her lip, unable to put her thoughts into words that would make any semblance of sense. So all she did was shrug. 

“Are you seeing it again, what you did the first game we did together?” Ichida questioned, looking down at her with a concerned gaze.

Michiko shook her head, “It’s not that.” She saw the man she killed all of the time. She saw the blood on her hands everyday. Saw the same face in the mirror of someone she’d rather forget. The images haunted her all of time, but she had forced herself to get used to it in the last few days, submerging the images in the back of her mind. There were more important things to worry about, like living to see the next sunrise. “I-” She started, “I don’t understand things sometimes.” 

“What don’t you understand?” Ichida asked.

“How can some people trust others so easily? How- how can they open themselves up so quickly?” Michiko finally turned her gaze to the older man, her face betraying nothing, remaining a blank slate. But her fists clenched tightly in her pockets, her thumb twisting at her ring. She remembered the previous night, watching as Kirika had smiled so easily. Remembering her shining face as she held out a box of pocky in her direction. Kirika had already found herself at such ease in their presence it almost seemed inhuman. Michiko couldn’t understand how she had placed her trust in them so easily.

Did she really admire Michiko that much after what she had done in the Six of Clubs game?

Ichida heaved a sigh, before answering. “Some people are just built that way I guess. They open themselves up easily, they place their trust in others because that make them feel secure. Maybe because they can’t always place their trust in themselves. There’s many reasons. However-” The older man paused, Michiko watched his eyebrows furrow as he tried to find the right words, “that can sometimes be detrimental. If someone too easily places their trust in others, there’ll always be people who take advantage of that. So, it’s sometimes best to be cautious. It can be a good thing, being cautious, especially in a world like this where you’ll most likely than not run into people looking for someone that they can easily manipulate.”

Michiko stewed over his words, before speaking up again, “But… What if I want to trust someone? I want to open up, but something's stopping me?” Without saying it outright, Michiko was asking how she could place her trust wholeheartedly in the man in front of her, how she could truly open up to him without holding anything back. She wanted to. Desperately. But the walls that had been built since that night had prevented her from doing exactly as she wished.

“Michiko, answer this honestly with the first answer that comes into your head, no overthinking it, okay?” Ichida stopped in his tracks, turning and looking down to Michiko. He resisted placing a hand on her shoulder. Sometimes it could be a comfort, others a deterrent with the girl. “Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation, Michiko answered, “Yes.” A look of surprise overcame her features at her willingness to admit it, eyes widening at the words that escaped her without reservation.

Ichida shared a soft smile with her, the faint wrinkles at the side of his mouth crinkling slightly. “Then that’s all there is to it. You trust me, and you know I’ll never take advantage of your trust. And I trust you to open up to me in your own time, when you’re ready. For some people, yes, it takes longer. But that by no means means I care less about you. In this world, you’re my first priority. I’ll always protect you, okay?”

“But why?” Michiko questioned automatically, “Why do you care so much about me? I was just the unwanted kid who gave you nothing but trouble back in the normal world.”

Ichida huffed out a small laugh. “You’re right, you did give me a lot of trouble, but…” He trailed off, beginning to walk again, making sure the young girl followed along behind him. “Did I ever tell you about my daughter?” 

Michiko eyebrows scrunched up in thought as she shook her head, “I didn’t even know you have a daughter.”

The older man smiled sadly, eyes lowering slightly, “Had.” Michiko’s expression dropped at the admission, and he continued on, “she was my entire world. I took my duty as a father seriously. Spoiled her like a princess, protected her from harm. Nothing could ever separate us, and she was always glued to my side.” He paused, letting out a deep, regretful sigh, full of times long past he wished were different, “She was  about your age when she died.”

Michiko wanted to ask how, but at the same time didn’t want to intrude on the officer’s personal life. But the older man continued on with the story anyway, taking away that decision for her. “I used to be a detective, not just an officer. One of the best in my precinct. Had quite the hefty arrest record. I was prideful, arrogant, and thought there was nothing that could stop me.” He paused, thinking about how to tell the story. “There was a serial killer active at the time, his main targets were young, naive school girls he could lure away with false promises and manipulate easily. I was put on the case. I thought I could catch the guy. I was so close as well. And because I was so certain I could catch him, I made the worst mistake. I taunted him publicly, promised that I would be the one to personally put him away.”

Ichida's eyes glazed over, haunted by ghosts, an expression Michiko recognised easily. He spoke on, weaving the rest of the tale for Michiko. “I thought I had done my best to keep my family away from my work. Keeping them separate from it was meant to protect them… but I completely forgot that my Himiko was this guy's preference in victim, I completely neglected the fact that I was putting her in harm's way because of my choices.” His eyes looked away into the distance, blinking a few times, holding back the water gathering at his bottom eyelids, pushing back his tears as the memories spilled out. “I wasn’t there to protect her the one time she truly needed it. When they found her-'' His voice caught in his throat, “There’s no way to truly describe that pain. It’s been a long time now, but it still lingers.”

Michiko’s gut wrenched, her stomach twisting whilst listening to Ichida’s tale. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab the hand that hung limply at his side, feeling her own twitch slightly at the impulse. But she held herself back, hesitating, unsure if that was what he wanted at that moment. She remained silent, allowing the older man to continue. “They took me off the case immediately, things had become too personal. They were just following protocol. But I wanted nothing more than to catch the bastard who did it. I was already so close, and anger had consumed me. There was no stopping me. I jumped through quite a few hoops, and may have done some things bordering on the edge of the law to track him down. And when I finally had him cornered, when I finally faced that monster, all I could think about was how he’d put his hands on my little girl. The rage hadn’t left, and I almost murdered a man in cold blood that day.”

He looked to the sky, gaze far away, seeing a long dead ghost within the light of the sun. “Then I heard her voice in the back of her head telling me to stop. She had no mean bone in her body, that girl, and she would have me take mercy on her murderer. And when that rage left, there was nothing but an emptiness, a hollowness in my chest. He’d taken her from me, but I realised that killing him wouldn’t bring her back, it would only spoil her memory. It would only make me as bad as him”

Ichida let out a long, sorrowful huff, as he dragged his eyes away from the ghost of a smile in the sun, and back to the flesh and blood girl before him. The one he could so clearly picture as someone else.

“You remind me a lot of her. I think she would’ve liked you a lot.” He let out a soft, reminiscent laugh, his eyes shedding a couple of tears, the droplets trickling down his face like the midnight rain on the window the night before. “I was demoted for my actions, from detective back to officer. I lived in the emptiness for years, putting all of my time into my work to distract myself from missing her. Lost my wife because I couldn’t get past my own grief. Then you were dumped at my desk one day, all scowls and snark. And I heard your situation and couldn't help but think we were so much alike. Both having lost someone we loved. I heard her voice again that day, something telling me deep down that I had to help you. So I tried my best. But my god did you fight back.”

He chuckled tearfully, head shaking as he kept himself composed. “You would not let me.”

Michiko sniffled, trying to hold back her own tears as she felt the heat welling at the bottoms of her eyes, the clenching in her gut, the tightness in her chest. The man in front of her had bared his soul, had spent a long time trying to help her, to understand her, to get her back on track. He cared about her on a deeper level than she knew, and only now did she see it. Only now did she truly see him and all of his efforts from the past couple of years.

She stepped forwards, feet to feet with the older man, wrapping her arms around his back and pulling him to her. Ichida’s arms instinctively moved to hug her back, and Michiko was enveloped in a certain warmth that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. A couple of tears trailed down her cheeks onto Ichida’s jacket, and she stuttered out, “I- I’m ready to- to let you help me now.”

She felt Ichida’s shoulders shake with a relieved laugh.

♤♡◇♧

The entire trip was a bust. They had reached Ichida’s old precinct, the same one Michiko visited in search of him on her first day in the games. The older man brought them to the armoury, only to find it already cleared out. They both heaved disappointed sighs at the sight. 

They now found themselves in their old spots, Michiko sat in the same chair she frequented many times when she was dragged into this very building. The walls brought back many memories. Moments that were highlighted by the hustle and bustle of activity, a cacophony of sounds as the precincts team worked cases and criminals that had committed far more significant crimes than her petty breaches of the law were processed. Now, the station was empty, the halls silent, no longer the hub of activity she was routinely thrust into. It was a ghostland.

The two of them sat there, stewing in the misery of their failed venture, escaping the burning heat of the midday sun outside. 

Having enough of the piercing silence between them, Michiko stopped spinning in her usual seat and spoke up. “At least we know for definite there is a group of a significant amount of people out there somewhere. Why else would they need so many guns?”

“There’s one glaring problem with that, Michiko.” Ichida replied.

“Hm?”

“It’s that this group of people now has a significant amount of guns, and they’re roaming about out there.” Ichida reasoned, “We don’t know what these people are like. And what if it’s this Beach place we’re looking for? What if they’ve taken the guns, and what if we do find it and we’re walking into a trap.”

Michiko swiveled her chair around to face him, placing her elbows onto his old desk and leaning forward over them. “I can see you definitely used to be a detective.” Her lips curved upwards in a mildly amused smirk, “but there’s something I think you’re missing. I’ve thought about this exact scenario, and even if we do walk right into their grasp once we find it, and even if they do happen to have a shit load of guns, I highly doubt they’d shoot us straight up.”

Ichida matched her gaze from across the desk. “And why would you think that?” He asked.

“You remember Arata from your first game right?” Michiko waited for the man to nod in confirmation before continuing. “He told us he hoped we would find the Beach . That makes me think this place wants people to find it. They need people for something, but maybe, and hear me out here, they want to test us. Want to see what they’re working with. Arata could’ve just had us go with him, taken us there himself, but he didn’t. So, if they want to see how good players are in the games, then maybe they want those players for something. If people can find the Beach on their own, that means they’re good players, and good players is what they want?” The girl let the doubt slip into her tone at the end of her tirade, “But, that may be completely far-fetched. I don’t know.” She shrugged nonchalantly, slipping back into her devil may care attitude as she slumped back into the seat, arms crossing.

The older man across from her stared at her in wonder. “You really have put a lot of thought into this haven’t you? That’s quite the theory.”

Michiko bit her lip slightly, eyes shifting around the space again, “Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of time to think, too much time really.”

Silence settled over the two of them once more as they pondered the world they were trapped in, and the possibility of there being a community out there where they could find more people. They wondered what kind of people resided in said community. Would they be welcomed with open arms, taken in and saddled with more information about the world? Or would they be welcomed by the barrel of a gun, threatened with death outside the games as much as they were inside. 

This world was lawless, a land without rules other than play the games or die. Who knew what depravity other people had fallen into without the word of the law to hold them back. Not everyone could have the same sense of justice Ichida had.

Ichida began to wonder if it was really worth the risk.

But looking at the girl before him, stubborn in her ways, who refused to answer to authority… he knew she wouldn’t rest until she’d found what she was looking for. Whatever it was.

So he would stay by her side and keep her safe until she did.

The heat outside seemed to have lost its midday intensity, so Ichida stood and nodded to the girl. “Let’s make our way back.

The journey was much quicker on the return. Outside the police station they found a bicycle rack with some abandoned bikes. They found two still in working order, and after a swift picking of the locks courtesy of Michiko - not without some lighthearted scolding from the older police officer - they were on their way.

Their journey back to the camping store was serenaded with the sound of Michiko’s laughter ringing through the streets as Ichida attempted with no success to balance on the bike.

They made it back to the camping store, Kirika having gone out of her way to greet them with a meal that wasn’t just instant noodles, managing to gather enough ingredients for a make-shift hotpot.

That night was spent with a warm meal shared amongst friends - friends in Ichida’s case, Michiko didn’t know if Kirika or Chishiya could really be considered friends yet - and the next few days were spent journeying around Tokyo, trying to find signs of life.

And each night would be the same, hunker down in a makeshift base, use their cut-down supplies to make a shared meal, maybe share some laughs, some stories, or share nothing in Chishiya’s case - the man remained a mystery to all of them, and each day the other three questioned why he stuck around. There was a shift in the group, a sense of camaraderie being built up each day, each night spent in each other’s presence. Those few days spent with just the four of them were good days.

But those last seven days would come to an end eventually. And reality would rear its cruel head once again.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 10-11

♤♡◇♧

Michiko could feel herself slipping once more. It came with the territory of being as defensive as she was. Anytime she let her guard down it was only a matter of time before something happened that would completely decimate everything she had worked towards. 

The first time she felt it was with Mahiru, who promised a home after she lost hers. That place never became her home, Mahiru only letting her down, leaving her to rot in her anger. Then with Shinobu Keiko, who promised to be friend, only to throw her to the wolves when she opened up.

She was beginning to feel it now, the itch in her fingers, the anxious prickling at the back of her neck. The urge to cause destruction that she learned ran through her lineage was thrumming under her fingers. The instinctual feeling to push everyone away before they close enough to betray her. 

This consistent itching at her brain caused the last night of their seven days to be fraught with a thick tension, one that was so palpable it hung heavy like a chain on the shoulders of each of them. 

They had holed themselves up in an open apartment in a complex near the bay, residing on the top floor to gain a vantage point over the city. From their view up high, they could see the distant glow of lights scattered across the city, signs of that night's games being played.

That night's meal had been quite meagre, due to their supplies running scarce and their ongoing struggle to find supplies this close to the bay. Most stores they had come across had already been ransacked of anything that was still safe to consume. Even the alcohol was cleared off the shelves. Chishiya stated that it was a sign there was certainly a large group of people around, and fairly close by to, considering how many stores had been emptied.

After eating, and after the sun had fully disappeared behind the buildings to leave only the darkness of the night, they sat in silence. None of them wanted to bring up what the next day would entail. Ichida and Kirika’s time had run out, and they would have to enter another game. A week of peace would be shattered as they would be forced to fight for their survival once again. 

Finally, the silence was broken, the tension that had been built up in the silence being released. 

“You don’t have to come with us.” Ichida spoke up from the sofa, eyes directed to Michiko, who sat on the floor by the coffee table, back leaned up against the sofa, and Chishiya who casually rested in an armchair opposite. “You both still have days left on your VISA. We can handle it ourselves.”

Michiko shook her head. Yes, she still had four days left on her VISA courtesy of her first game, but just as she hadn’t abandoned Ichida the last time, she wouldn’t again. “No, we stick together. Just as we did in the last game.”

“Michiko..” Ichida wanted to make her understand. Michiko could see the desperation in his eyes as he looked at her. They reflected the times in the last two games where he had almost lost her. It was the same look he gave her as the train rolled out of the station after Ichida and Kirika had managed to escape, watching her slip away from his grasp, “I don’t want you needlessly walking into danger again. Yes, we got lucky in the last game, but what if it’s different this time? Do an old man a favour please. Kirika and I will have each other, we can handle a game by ourselves.”

Michiko wanted to make him understand. She had lost someone precious a long time ago, and wasn't there when it happened. She didn’t want to lose someone else and not be there to prevent it. “I’m going in with you. We stick together, we work together, we win the game and then we find the Beach .”

Neither of them spoke the unsaid words. Ichida didn’t want the girl to be careless with her precious life. Michiko didn’t want to sit by while someone she cared about would be in danger. 

Ichida shook his head, huffing in frustration, “You’re far too stubborn.” His eyes roamed over to Chishiya, silently asking the other man for help to talk some sense into the girl. The blonde gave the most miniscule shrug of his shoulders, not willing to get involved in the brewing argument between the two of them. Ichida turned back to the girl, “You’re not coming with me, not this time. I’m not allowing you to put your life on the line when you don’t need to. Kirika and I will go, we’ll protect each other, and we’ll survive. Then we go find the Beach .”

“No!” Michiko stated firmly, the itching at her fingers causing her defensiveness to grow out of control, “if it were the other way around, and it was me having to go into the games, you wouldn’t hesitate to follow me. So you’re a hypocrite for saying I can’t do the same.”

“That’s different-” Ichida began.

“It’s not!” Michiko interrupted. “It’s no different at all so don’t try and say it is.”

“Michiko,” Ichida’s tone was resolute, there was no shifting his stance. “I’m putting my foot down on this, you aren’t coming along. I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I don’t need you to.” Michiko spat out. She could feel it. It happened every time she allowed someone in, to get close enough to begin breaking down the walls she had built up years ago. The poison bubbled in her veins, boiling to the surface and seeping out of her pores. She couldn’t hold it back when it surfaced, and it spilled out of her in words she didn’t mean. The walls rose back in place so naturally because she had worn them as armour for so many years, “You aren’t my dad! Stop trying to be!”

The room was shocked into silence at Michiko’s words, the bitterness behind them making Ichida and Kirika flinch. The older man’s face fell, the hurt flashing across his eyes as he stared down at the girl. Chishiya watched the scene intently, his eyes remaining fixed on the miniscule shift in Michiko’s expression, the regret that creeped up behind her eyes after letting her venomous words loose. 

Michiko gulped, refusing to look at Ichida as she rose from the floor, hands in her pockets, and stormed out to the balcony. The chill wind prickled at her skin, causing the flesh to rise, despite the protection of her hoodie. The cool air at least calmed the hot poison in her veins, and after it dissipated, her old friend regret made its appearance. Like clockwork. 

It was always one step forward and three steps back with her. Anytime someone came close to breaking down the defenses she had put in place to protect herself, the monster inside her reared its ugly head to push them back. It was a routine that she had gone through time and time again to prevent herself from getting hurt.

But this habit had caused the breakdown of every relationship she tried to form. Her self destructive nature would end up ruining everything and she’d be right back to where she started. A cycle she would repeat probably until the day she withered away, alone and unloved. 

A cycle that had repeated once again with the one person she desperately wanted to make it work with. The one person she didn’t want to push away, she did so in the worst way possible. Using the biggest loss he had experienced, something that he confided in her, against him. There was no amount of words she could use that would make up for what she said. She wouldn’t blame him if he never forgave her.

She rested her elbows on the ledge of the balcony and twisted at her mother’s ring on her finger, staring down at the clear stone sparkling in the moonlight. Maybe it would be better for everyone if she just disappeared into the night. Went on her own way, playing the games by herself. And if she died from them? Well, maybe that was always her fate. That way she wouldn’t continue spreading the poison she lived with, allowing it to consume everything around her. 

Such a worthless existence deserved such a fate.

Her musings were interrupted by the balcony door softly shutting behind her, the soft footsteps telling her it was the mystery of a man that attached himself to their group. She huffed as she caught the white jacket in her periphery, the man leaning his back against the rails next to her.

He said nothing, allowing the air of silence to grow between them. 

Eventually, Michiko spoke up, finally asking the question that had been weighing on her mind for nearly a week when it came to the enigma that stood beside her, “Why did you come back that day?”

Chishiya hummed, before answering her, “I thought about what you said. And I came to the conclusion that the best solution to our situation is working together to find the Beach .” The almost always present slight upturn of his lips was still there as he spoke, and the slight glint behind his eyes that told her he was veiling the truth. Michiko grit her jaw in frustration, sick of the smug smirk that was constantly etched onto his face.

She clicked her tongue, “You’re definitely lying, but I’ll let you keep your secrets for now.” 

His gaze shifted to her, eyes now reflecting interest at her observation. Not many people could tell when he wasn’t being entirely truthful. It was how he got away with fooling people as long as he did, because people couldn’t read his intentions, but he could do so successfully with other people. He noted with mild intrigue the stacking up of similarities he had observed between the two of them.

Michiko broke the silence between them again. “I know I’ve made my choice, but will you be joining us tomorrow or will you be waiting till your VISA runs out.”

Chishiya turned out to face the city skyline, staring out into the night, the cold breeze fluttering the strands of hair that framed his face. “Ahh, I think I might join the game tomorrow.”

“Why?” The girl across from him questioned, “I know for a fact you don’t give a damn about any of us, so why would you do that to yourself?” 

“Because I’m interested in the games themselves. I still want to figure out how they work, and just who is running them. I want to know everything about them.” Chishiya revealed, eyes almost glowing with amusement in the pale rays of  moonlight. 

Michiko scoffed, “You would do that at the cost of your own life?” She turned to join him in staring out over the city. The lights from the game arena’s began flickering, and in the far distance, the horizon glowed orange in the flames of an explosion, the boom reaching them across the other side of the city. Michiko flinched at the sight. “That’s kind of stupid don’t you think?” She spoke again when the light died down to smouldering flames.

“And you would risk yours for someone else.” Chishiya rebuked, “So tell me, which of us is the bigger fool?”

With that question left in the air between them, festering like a wound, the two of them watched as red lines rained down from the sky, and Michiko tried to ignore the fact that each of them was a life now gone. Would that be their fate tomorrow? Only time would answer the questions of that night.

Their conversation was left there,stilted and unfinished. Chihsiya’s final question remained unanswered, another itch that would constantly be on her mind.

As she went to settle down to sleep that night in the room she was sharing with Kirika, the other girl spoke up into the silence of the night. 

“Mr Ichida cares about you a lot. He only wants to protect you from harm.” She stated, as if Michiko was unaware of that fact.

“I know.” The other girl replied dryly.

“And I know you care for him as well.” Kirika continued, voice soft as she spoke.

“What are you getting at?” Michiko just wanted to sleep, to forget the day's frustrations and start fresh for the next, to try and see if she could salvage whatever crumbled ruins were left from her fragile relationship with the officer.

“I’m just saying. I wish I had someone who cared about me like that, to risk their life to protect mine.” Kirika’s voice was soft, sweet, the same as it had been for the past week. But Michiko could hear the strained sadness just underneath the surface, long kept pushed down for the sake of a joyful facade. 

She didn’t reply to the other girl, and the silence settled between them as the two drifted off in an uneasy sleep, anxious of what the next night would bring, questioning if they’d both still be alive in twenty four hours. Or if they’d become just another body left rotting in a world where they wouldn’t be missed.

♤♡◇♧

The atmosphere was frosty the next morning as the group of four gathered for breakfast in the living room. They had boiled water for coffee on the camping stove, and as soon as he had made himself up a cup, Ichida had taken himself out to nurse it on the balcony. Michiko’s eyes followed him for a moment, before she swallowed and turned away, holding back the warmth that prickled at the bottom of her eyes.

The three that remained were silent as they ate. From across the coffee table, Michiko caught Kirika’s eyes, and the other girl tilted her head towards the balcony where the older man was situated. 

Biting her lip in contemplation, Michiko hesitated as she turned back to the balcony, catching sight of Ichida’s shadow through the glass doors. Turning back to Kirika, the other girl urged her on with a raise of her eyebrows and mouthing a persistent ‘go’ . 

Michiko huffed as she stood. She had made up her mind the previous night to try and salvage what she could. She could die today, and she didn’t want to do so without having cleared the air between her and Ichida. She owed him that much for all he had done for her. And if he didn’t forgive her then so be it. She had ruined enough relationships, she knew how to get past it. 

Somewhere deep down, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get over this particular one.

Stepping out onto the balcony nervously, she slid the door shut behind her to get them a sense of privacy, fingers shaking as they grasped the handle. She stared down at her mother’s ring, hoping it would provide her with some semblance of strength, before taking in a deep breath and turning to face the music.

They both stood, neither looking at the other, and neither speaking. Michiko almost allowed the doubt to get the better of her, almost turning tail back through the door before the poison could bubble up and ruin things even further.

Before she could, it was Ichida who broke the ice between them, “When I lost Himiko, I thought my entire life was over. I was demoted from detective back to Officer for my actions. I was lucky I wasn’t fired. Things weren’t the same, I gave up on being happy, and often drank my nights away. My wife left and I was alone for almost ten years.”

He stopped taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, “Then you started being brought in, and there was something about you that began breaking through the dark cloud that hung over my head. You broke the monotony I fell into day by day and I began looking forward to when you came by the station, despite the fact that you were in trouble whenever you did. Every time I saw you, something in me wanted to help you, because you drove back the loneliness in my heart bit by bit. But-” The man sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face, his voice defeated, “I can’t help you if you refuse it. I want to, but you keep driving me away.”

Michiko bit her lip, almost gnawing at it hard enough to draw blood as she thought through the words in her head, thought through what to say to the man in front of her. “I know,” she began, “I want your help, I do, I just- sometimes I can’t help it. I try to drive back the words I say, but they just, they come out and I can’t stop them-” She cut herself off, hot tears beginning to well up as she choked them back. “I don’t- I don’t mean them, I don’t know why I say them.” She couldn’t help the poison in her blood, festering away. It was passed onto her when she was born.

“A week ago you told me you were ready to let me help you, but then you pull back again.” Ichida shook his head, turning away from the city skyline to face her. “I don’t know what to do, Michiko. I can only try so many times. It hurts me to see you destroy yourself time and time again.” 

The young girl looked away, unable to face the man full on just yet, “I am ready, I do want your help. I-” She sighed, looking down to her beat up trainers, “I just poison everything I touch. I’m nothing but a curse. I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”

There was nothing said in reply to that statement, the words hanging far too heavy in the air to be cut through. 

He hates me, Michiko thought, of course he hates me, he’s realized I’m a worthless waste of space like everyone else has-

A warm hand laid upon her shoulder, causing her to flinch out of her deprecating thoughts. Once she realized where the touch was coming from, Michiko found herself not minding it for once. It was only Officer Nakajima. Only Ichida. Ichida, who had looked at her and never once seen a monster. Ichida, who was the only one who ever saw her.

“You aren’t a curse. You just have a harder time accepting others' help. You’ve been through a lot of heartbreak and a lot of bad things have happened to you, and you haven’t had anyone truly take the time to help you through it. Coming from someone who’s been through the same, I understand your pain Michiko.” The older man paused, taking in a steady breath, and placing his hand on the back of her head, fingers stroking her hair, “It doesn’t go away, not truly, but you can find ways to make it hurt less. It’ll take a while, but you can do it, bit by bit.”

Michiko finally brought her eyes up to meet his, the simple act taking an excruciating amount of effort. “How do I make it hurt less? How do I stop? How can I stop seeing his face everytime I look in the mirror? How can I make things better?” With every question, the tears that had been building up at the bottom of her eyes welled up enough to fall over the edge, leaving warm trails down her face.

Sending her a soft, sad smile, Ichida replied, tears welling up at the edges of his own eyes, turning them glassy, “By letting down those walls you’ve built up so high.”

The girl sniffed, “But what if I can’t?”

“You can,” Ichida encouraged, dragging her head in to meet his chest, cradling her in the embrace of a true and nurturing father. It was an embrace she hadn’t felt in a long time. “You already have. You just need to learn to not put them back up again. Start with me. I’ll show you the way. So many people have let you down, so let me be the one to prove to you - to promise you - that I would never do that.”

And Michiko did something she also hadn’t done in a very long time. She sobbed into Ichida’s chest, letting the pain that had rooted inside of her seep out for once in a way that wasn’t festering anger or wounding words. 

Ichida held the trembling girl even closer, fingers soft trailing over the back of her head, offering her every piece of comfort she had been missing for the past five years, “Oh my dear girl, this world has been far too cruel to you.” He punctuated his words with a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

Once Michiko had let out the built up pain enough to squeeze out words again, she spoke into Ichida’s chest. “I’m sorry.” There was more in the whispered apology than just her regret for the words said the previous night. It was an expression of all the trouble she had caused him over the years, the stress she had piled onto the older man's plate in his endeavor of simply making sure she was okay.

And Ichida understood everything she was apologizing for, “I know.”

♤♡◇♧

From the inside of the apartment, examining eyes watched the two on the balcony grip each other close, relying on each other for a sense of comfort the other had been missing. Although Chishiya couldn’t make out the words said as he had watched the two play out their silent movie of lingering pain and suffering, their actions told him enough.

He almost felt pity. The way the world worked in their current reality dictated that this relationship between the older officer and the younger troubled teen would only end in tragedy. Chishiya just didn’t know what would occur first. Would Ichida's unbreakable sense of justice be what caused his doom, sacrificing himself in the name of shielding two girls who would have trouble in defending themselves in such a brutal place? Or would Michiko’s reckless nature have her making the wrong move? Yes, she was intelligent, she had proved that in the games. But underneath the surface Chishiya could sense rash tendencies waiting to take root in her attempt to hold onto what little stability she had found herself.

They would be each other’s doom, he concluded. So opposite yet so similar in their willingness to die for one another. At first, he didn't want to be around for it. But he couldn’t help his curiosity. The human heart was such a strange thing, and a more dominant part of him wanted to be around to witness whatever fallout, if only he could understand the fickle nature of human emotion a little better. Those types of things escaped him on a daily basis, logic and rationale taking precedent in his own mind. To understand human emotion, one would be able to pull the strings of it and manipulate the subject as they wanted.

Dragging his eyes away from the scene, he caught the other figure in the room with him still. Kirika was also watching scene on the balcony intently, a serene expression on her face, lips upturned in a subtle smile. The mask was strong, and it almost had him fooled for a moment. If he hadn't noticed the tightness in her hands as they rested on her knees. His observant eyes caught her fingertips digging into the skin of her thighs, biting nail marks into the flesh. His eyebrows raised in interest, wondering what had her so tense.

As if feeling his gaze, Kirika turned to him, a frown plastering itself on her face as she swallowed, forcing her hands to relax.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows at the reaction, locking the piece of information in his mind to figure out later. For now, there were more pressing matters. Like preparing for another game that would decide whether they would live another die or die a rather unfair death.

♤♡◇♧

The hours had drifted by slowly in the wake of their anxiousness. But eventually, the time for waiting came to an end. The sun was setting over the horizon, the sky darkening into a shade of navy blue, signifying the end of the day, the end of their few days of peace. That was when they packed up, leaving their supplies for whoever remained alive at the end of the night to return to. They wanted to carry light into the games, to not be weighed down by anything unnecessary, but prepared enough for whatever came their way.

Ichida prepped his gun and what little remained of his ammunition. Chishiya had fashioned some sort of device that looked to be made up from an old walkman. The blonde haired man had been working on his contraption for the past week. Michiko had no idea what it did or just how Chishiya was planning on powering it. But if there was one thing she had learned about their resident mystery, it was that he’d always planned at least three steps ahead minimum. She knew he had something worked out.

As for herself and Kirika, the girls were supplied with items from an old toolbox they found in the apartment, having found no other usable weapons in the past week. A rusty screwdriver for Michiko and a solid hammer for Kirika. In a moment of morbid thinking, Michik found herself missing the metal bat from the Spades game. That was a rather useful weapon in a time of need.

By the time they had left the apartment, the sky had grown darker, and Michiko let out a steadying breath as small areas of the city lit up brightly, a beacon to guide weary souls into their impending doom. Michiko wondered if there were gods out there laughing down at them, taking entertainment in their suffering.

She looked over to Ichida, sharing a look and a nod of understanding. Whilst he hadn’t been able to convince her to stay out of the game, they had made a promise. Whilst inside the arena they would look out for each other, no matter what happened. In this moment of time, after everything they had been through and everything they had shared, they had become each other’s priorities, each other's guiding light in this world of death and decay. And both of them would be damned if they allowed the games to take that from them. 

Not again, Michiko thought to herself.

And the group made their way into the darkness of the night, heading towards the nearest arena, hoping for an ideal ending to their night. All of them surviving. 

The nearest signs led them to an enormous arcade. They stepped inside, Michiko seeing the red flashes of the borderline out of the corner of her eyes as they passed through the open sliding doors. There was no turning back. They would finish this game dead or alive. Michiko hoped for the latter.

The inside of the arcade was a cesspit of flashing light and electronic sounds. The gaming machines were all brought to life, screens displaying idle animations with graphics both new and old. There was a cacophony of sounds as music and dialogue mixed together to create a sensory overload that would ring persistently through a person’s head. Michiko tried to blur it all out, to focus on taking in her surroundings. Every detail, even something miniscule, could be the difference between life and death. 

But the anxiety wrung her gut out like a sponge, and she was struggling to shut out the lights shining in her eyes, the music pounding in her skull. The warm hand of Ichida on the top of her back brought her back into reality. The four grabbed their phones from the table in the centre of the reception area where everyone else was gathered. Immediately, Chishiya set about finding a plug socket, successfully locating one at the edge of the reception, and plugging in his little device, much to the intrigue of the rest of his companions who followed him on his mission. The blonde man then casually leaned against the wall, hands stuffed in his pockets as he observed their surroundings from his vantage point. 

Michiko did the same. 

There were a lot of people. Nearly thirty, she estimated, more than there had been in any of her last games. It was jarring to see so many grouped in one place. Michiko steeled her face and scanned each of the people. There were quite a few hardened sets of eyes, those with experience in the games being able to sniff out that same experience in others. There were significant signs that pointed that out. The wary gazes, the tight postures, the attempted steadying of breath. All of them trying to not show weakness, to not let anything slip through the built up defenses.

Then there were those who took a look at Michiko and Kirika, their slight build and the nervousness of a flighty rabbit in Kirika’s posture, and scoffed. The two younger girls had been dismissed as non-threatening. Then they took a look at the solid stance of the protector behind them, the rigidity of a soldier in his gaze, and they turned away, no longer scoffing. Michiko almost allowed herself to feel offended for a moment at them all writing her off as defenseless. She had proved otherwise in previous games.

Then there were those who she could tell  were relatively new to the world they now survived in. The shifting glances searching for help, for answers that they wouldn’t find. 

Then Michiko’s eyes fixed on two intimidating figures who stood off to the side. The easy way they carried themselves commanded the attention of the room, if the massive gun that one of them carried hadn’t commanded it enough. They were flanked by a few others, but the two in the centre were the ones of note, everyone else eyeing them warily.

The one on the left was of stocky build, the dark vest he wore showing off the bulging muscles of his arms. His hands were resting in the pockets of his cargo trousers, the legs of which were tucked into sturdy boots. His head was shaved short, and there was the stubble of a mustache and beard growing on his face. Dark eyes were almost distant, not engaging directly with anyone, but Michiko could see him scanning his potential opponents out of the corners of his eyes. The man was steady as a rock, but had the presence of a silent predator ready to attack when the opportunity arose, muscles tightly wound with anticipation. A tiger in human form.

But it was the man next to him that set Michiko’s nerves on fire. Where the previous man seemed immovable, a rock hard statue of strength and stability, this one screamed chaos and anarchy. There was a crazed glint in his dark eyes as he leaned casually against the reception desk, the large gun he carried pressed up against his shoulder, as if a reminder to everyone that surrounded him that he was danger incarnate. Shoulder length hair was half tied up in a bun and piercings littered his eyebrow and nose. His frenzied eyes navigated the room as if he owned it, daring anyone to get too close.

And those eyes caught Michiko’s for a moment, scanning her up and down before sending her a malicious smirk. The hair on her arms rose under his predatory gaze, sending a chill rattling over her skin. Whilst with Chishiya she often felt like a bug being examined under the lens of a microscope, with this man she felt like a mouse backed into a corner with a feral cat approaching, rearing back ready to pounce and trap her within its sharp jaws.

She turned away from him, staring down at her phone and willing the countdown to the beginning of the game to go faster. She could still feel the heat of the man’s gaze upon her, and she wanted to do everything to escape it. 

The uneasy tension in the room festered for another ten minutes as each second trickled by, no words being exchanged out loud, only whisperings between allies that weren’t audible enough for others to pick up on. Ichida had leaned down to Michiko and Kirika after he had set his gaze upon the two men Michiko had taken note of before, and whispered his warnings to stay far away from them.

Michiko had already been planning on it.

Eventually, after her nerves had been fried from waiting, her eyes watched as the countdown to the beginning of the game whittled down to zero. 

Michiko still flinched at the chime that signified the beginning, despite making herself ready for it.

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED 

THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE 

GAME: CAT AND MOUSE

And upon hearing the next words spoken by the automated voice, gravity took hold of Michiko’s heart and dropped it into her stomach in an act of pure, unadulterated dread. Because deep in the pit of her mind she knew exactly what it meant. Her world was about to shatter, every miniscule piece of trust she had  painstakingly built could crumble in the next few minutes, far quicker than it could ever be formed.

DIFFICULTY; SIX OF HEARTS

♤♡◇♧

The rules of the game were stated:

RULES

YOU WILL BE SPLIT INTO TWO TEAMS

CATS AND MICE

CATS, YOU MUST HUNT DOWN THE MICE

MICE, YOU MUST DEFEND YOURSELVES AGAINST THE CATS

GAME WILL BE CLEAR ONCE ONLY ONE COLOUR REMAINS ON THE FIELD

Michiko listened to the rules through a veil of static ringing in her ears. Her heartbeat was a heavy, constant thudding in her chest, picking up pace as she realised what would unfold.

A hand, warm and grounding brought her back into focus. A solid presence at her back leaned down and whispered to her, “it’ll be fine. Don’t worry we’ll be okay.” Ichida’s words kept her rooted, stopping her from letting the panic take over. She needed to stay alert. A game of hearts would require her to keep her emotions in check.

“Hearts, you said those are games of betrayal right?” Kirika whispered shakily from beside her, hand gripping at Michiko’s sleeve.

Michiko swallowed, turning to the other girl gravely, “This isn’t going to be like your last game.”

THE GAME WILL BEGIN ONCE ALL PLAYERS HAVE PUT ON ONE OF THE VESTS PROVIDED

ONCE ALL PLAYERS ARE WEARING ONE, THE VESTS WILL LIGHT UP RED OR BLUE

YOU MAY NOT REMOVE YOUR VEST DURING THE GAME

Upon this statement, the vests displayed on hangers behind the reception desk all lit up a brilliant white. Michiko looked over them, realizing they were the type you’d find commonly in laser tag, with targets littered all across them, shining bright on display.

RED TEAM WILL BE THE CATS

BLUE TEAM WILL BE THE MICE

MICE WILL ENTER THE ARENA FIRST, 

HIDE WELL, AND DON’T LET THE CATS CATCH YOU

NO OUTSIDE WEAPONS ARE ALLOWED IN THE GAME

IF YOU HAVE BROUGHT ANY, 

PLEASE LEAVE THEM AT THE RECEPTION

FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL END IN AN 

INSTANT GAME OVER FOR THE PLAYER

YOU MAY SELECT FROM THE WEAPONS PROVIDED 

FOR EACH TEAM AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE ARENA

There was a door off to the side of the arcade, and a neon sign above it flickered to life in a vibrant mix of pinks, yellows and blues. Michiko read the words that were lit up, LASER QUEST ARENA , and gulped, before dragging her eyes down. Sure enough, on either side of the door, stood two tables. Laid out upon them were a mixture of weapons, neatly organised as if they could’ve been any everyday items. Only these items spoke of danger, death and carnage.

Both tables held the exact same set of weapons, in a supposed attempt to give both teams the same advantages. One handgun, several knives and melee weapons, and some more unconventional tools.

WHEN YOU ARE READY, PLEASE TAKE A VEST AND WAIT TO BE ASSIGNED YOUR TEAMS

It was the man Michiko made uneasy eye contact with earlier who moved first, hopping over the table with an easy agility, before grabbing two vests, one he kept for himself and one he chucked to his bulky companion. 

Whistling casually, he threw the vest on before placing his large rifle down softly upon the reception desk, as if it were a precious child. Looking around the large group of people with the same crazed glint in his eyes, he broke the silence with a smirk that spoke of the anticipation in his blood, “Well, come on then. Let’s get this shit started, why don’t we?.” He held an anticipation to kill in his body, ready to revel in the hunt. He whooped, before letting his predatory eyes settle upon Michiko and Kirika who still hung back in their corner, “I hope I get to hunt down some cute little mice.”

From behind the two girls, Ichida stepped forward, masking them with a protective stance. He leveled the other man’s gaze with his own unwavering glare. He was a poised guard dog, ready to go on the defensive if needed, guarding the mice against the hungry cat. Ready to shield his two charges by whatever means necessary. 

The other man huffed out a laugh as he returned to stand by his still silent companion, who had finally focused his gaze on something other than the distant wall, regarding Ichida with a strange sense of acknowledgement. Ichida’s eyes remained on the two other men he had deemed as threats to his girls, keeping a close watch in particular on the loud, fidgety one, as he stalked forward, placing his own gun on the reception desk before grabbing a vest for himself. 

Michiko followed, trying to keep her steps steady to betray no weakness as she felt the feral man’s chilling gaze still upon her. By proxy, as she was still clutching onto Michiko’s sleeve, Kirika came with her. Pulling out her screwdriver, Michiko placed it next to Ichida’s gun, before taking the vest Ichida held out for her, Kirika mimicking her actions with her hammer.

A few minutes laters, all of the players around them had followed suit, draping themselves in the vests that were still lit up with blinding white. 

TEAMS SHALL NOW BE ASSIGNED

The automated voice announced, and the vests at the same time all turned dark for a few seconds. Michiko stared down at hers, blood bubbling in the anticipation of what colour the game would designate her as. Cat or Mouse.

And suddenly, her eyes were assaulted by the neon blue fluorescent lights that her vest lit up with. Blue for Mouse. Her eyes flickered next to her, the colour of Kirika’s vest mirroring hers. The other girl sent her a relieved smile.

Across from them, Chishiya’s vest also lit up, the brilliant blue reflecting off his white attire. “Ah, so we’re mice then.” He said as he eyed the two girls wearing the same colour. His eyes then flew to behind them, and Michiko picked up the small downturn of his usual permanent smirk, and her stomach twisted in anticipated dread.

Hesitantly, she turned her head around to face the final member of their four, and alarm washed over her like a raging wave of the ocean in a storm, draining all the blood from her face. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard it almost made her vomit it up then and there. She couldn’t breathe. Everything they had worked for fell apart in that single moment.

Ichida’s eyes were focused on his own vest, taking in the foreboding red colour it had lit up, before looking up to meet the gaze of his three companions. Not being able to meet Michiko’s eyes, he let slip a regretful smile.

“Oh dear.”

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 11

♤♡◇♧

When Officer Nakajima Ichida first met Nara Michiko, he thought it was going to be another monotonous day. 

He would go to work, patrol the streets, allow his younger partner to rattle off tales of his budding family as he tuned out the enthusiastic words, trying not to let the man’s happiness stir that dark pit of jealousy inside him. 

 He would write up reports, maybe arrest a few drunk and disorderlies. Then he would go home to a hollow, empty house and drown himself in beer or whiskey (or both), before passing out. Waking up the next day to a pounding headache, taking a few painkillers to ease the pain and doing it all again. Rinse and repeat.

But that day, things turned out differently than usual.

 The police station was a hive of activity. Uniformed officers marching down the halls. Papers rustling on the desks of detectives. A drunkard was being hauled out of the cell he spent the night in for the previous evening's antics. Ichida sighed, allowing the noise of his everyday life to flow through him as he stared at the young, petulant looking girl in front of him. 

He and his current partner had been called in to deal with a nearby store robbery incident, and upon arriving at the location, he had been met with a sullen girl with a sour look on her face being held in the back room. She had been caught red-handed on camera, and the store owner was working up a storm as her statement was taken, having Ichida ensure he would punish the girl. He had assured the owner that justice would be served, the usual spiel he had memorised when dealing with civilians flowing out of him automatically. 

Then the girl was piled back into the police car and driven down to the station. And it was there that Ichida had found himself hit with a brick wall.

The girl sat slouched in the chair across his desk as he wrote up his report, arms crossed with one foot absentmindedly kicking against the ground. She had remained silent the entire time.

“So kid, are you going to tell me your name?”

♤♡◇♧

After the heart wrenching reveal of Ichida being on the opposing team, Michiko had gone numb, sound escaping her, leaving only a faint buzzing ringing through her head.

She didn’t notice the older man fixing a stern expression on his face, leaping into action.

He strode over to the tables of weapons, to the one labeled CATS, as everyone else was still processing the team assignments. Some despairing wails were heard around as groups were torn apart and partnerships we ripped to pieces. He had no time to despair. His mind was already working a mile a minute, hatching up a plan that would ensure his girls would make it out alive. Chishiya as well, if he could manage it. But from what he’d learned of the calculating man over the past week, he imagined the blonde had already planned several steps ahead for every possible situation the moment he’d entered the building. Ichida couldn’t imagine having to worry too much about the blonde.

Looking down at the assorted weapons, he picked up the handgun, claiming it as his own before anyon else could. He unclipped the magazine, checking if it was full. It was. That gave him roughly eighteen rounds. He mentally counted how many opponents he’d have, figuring he’d have just enough to take out everyone he’d need to with maybe a couple of rounds to spare. He clipped it back in. A tall, imposing figure sidled up casually beside him, stopping in front of the MICE table.

An amused huff of laughter sounded from the figure next to him, “Do you even know how to use that old man?” It was the tall man from earlier, who’d eyed the girls with a dark glint in his eye that Ichida did not like. His vest was adorned in the same bright blue as the girls. His companion stood silent and resolute beside him, also bedecked in bright blue, as the longer haired man picked up the gun from his own designated table, holding it up with a confident smirk, an attempt at intimidation. The rest of the flock following them had not been so lucky, all wearing the same blood red shade that surrounded him. The older man said nothing, pocketing his gun in the back of his trousers where he’d be able to grab it easily, before reaching over and grabbing a couple of weapons from the MICE table. Simple and easy to handle ones.

He turned back, feeling the gaze of the two men following him as he strode back to the girls. Kirika was pulling on Michiko’s sleeve, trying to pull the other girl out of the state of shock she had withdrawn into. Ichida placed a gentle hand on Michiko’s cheek, guiding her to face him, tapping at her cheek to wake her out of her deep stupor. 

“Hey, Michiko, look at me. Wake up, you need to focus.” The sheer urgency of Ichida’s tone, and contact on her face caused Michiko’s eyes to blink several times, gaze coming back into focus as she found Ichida’s stern gaze, “I need you to listen to me, both of you.” He glanced over to Kirika, bringing her into the conversation as he relayed his instructions as if their lives depended on them. They did. “You guys have the advantage. You get a headstart into the arena. You use that to find a place to hide, somewhere you won’t get boxed in, where you have an escape route. You hide, you keep your head down and you lay low.”

“But- But,” Michiko stuttered out, “What about you?” 

“Don’t you worry about me, I’ll come and find you. We’ll find a way to get through this. We’ll beat this game together. I’m going to protect you two, but in the meantime, do whatever it takes to survive until I find you.” Ichida pressed.

The automated voice of the game master rang through their phones, interrupting Ichida, reminding him of the time crunch of the game starting. 

MICE PLEASE PREPARE TO ENTER THE GAME ARENA

GAME WILL BEGIN IN ONE MINUTE

Ichida took hold of Michiko’s wrist, laying it open and placing a large object across her hand. Michiko felt the cold steel on her skin bringing her back into focus. She looked to the older man before her, eyes fierce and stance fixed, readying himself for the inferno they were about to face.

The man patted her cheek gently, sending her a soft, reassuring smile. “We’ll be okay.” He whispered gently, before turning his gaze to Kirika, and nodding. The older man watched the other, very terrified girl take Michiko’s hand and drag her to the entrance to the arena, eyes hardening as he followed their movements. Kirika held on close to Michiko as she nodded back, Ichida seeing her searching inside herself for some hint of bravery to face whatever this game threw at them. “Take care of each other.” Ichida called behind them as he watched the phone countdown to zero, and the automatic glass doors flew open, allowing the blue clad mice to scurry into the arena, darting off to find holes to hide in. 

Hand in hand, the two younger girls fled into the hellscape of neon lights.

He gulped, readying himself as the timer jumped back up to two minutes, before beginning the countdown again. All around him, other members of the CATS team were also gearing up. There were some that had nervous looks fixed on their faces, sweat beading at foreheads, clutching weapons close to them as they worried about what lay before them. He hopefully wouldn’t have to worry about those ones too much. The weak would most likely get taken out quickly.

But then there was a minority of them. A minority with hardened gazes, hands gripped tightly around weapons as they anticipated the hunt. They were a group of predators poised for the kill. They were the ones he’d need to worry about. The one’s he’d have to set his sights on.

Ichida breathed in deeply as the countdown lowered, ready to face the smoke and flames. And once the door reopened again, he stuck to the back of the group, anticipating there may be a threat already lying in wait on the other side, in the shape of a feral cat ready to use its claws. With a breath to steel himself, Ichida entered into the depths of hell itself.

♤♡◇♧

When Nara Michiko met Officer Nakajima Ichida, she believed the day would play out as it normally would.

She couldn’t believe her bad luck. She had entered the store inconspicuously, attracting no suspicion from the store owner, bagged a few items out of the owner's line of sight, then went up front and paid for a single candy bar with her meagre allowance.

It wasn’t out of hunger that she stole. Miss Mahiru provided food well enough. No. She did it out of sheer boredom. There was a certain thrill in the act, and a certain sense of victory at not getting caught. It was also an act of rebellion, acting out of order being the only way she could keep her defenses in place.

But at times she wished she did get caught, if only to finally get Miss Mahiru to give up on her. The woman was stubborn though, and claimed that she would straighten Michiko out eventually. But Michiko was far too rotten to be fixed. Miss Mahiru had been trying for years but made no progress. Michiko was thirteen and on a fast track to delinquency. 

She should’ve known to be careful what she wished for. 

She found herself trapped by the gaze of the police officer in front of her, uniform pristine, but she could see the shaking hands and sunken eyes of a man who drowned himself every night just to feel something other than the festering pain. She recognised those signs because she had those same signs.

She found herself feeling small under his gaze, the gaze of a disappointed father.

“Listen kid. I’m happy to stay here all day. Because until you give me a name, I can’t figure out who’s responsible for you, and I can’t let you go. It wouldn’t feel right to let you back out on the streets by yourself. I want to help you, I don’t want to see you get in trouble for this. So please just give me a name and we can both go on with our days alright?” The officer placed his forearms on the table, trembling hands clasped together as he looked down at her expectantly.

She just stared back at him, staying silent. She didn’t care if she had to stay in the police station all day. At least it would keep her away from Miss Mahiru.

“Fine, no name.” The officer sighed. “Well then, if it makes it easier, I’ll give you mine first. I’m Officer Nakajima.” Michiko continued staring at him blankly as he cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s try something else, why did you steal from that store?”

Michiko shrugged nonchalantly, finally deigning him with an answer. “It’s what I do.” She mumbled.

“So, you do it often?” Ichida raised his eyebrow.

Michiko berated herself inside her head for her lack of awareness and accidentally confessing to more theft, falling into the officer’s clear trap. Luckily, the officer in front of her seemed to brush over what she said in favour of another question. “And why is it ‘what you do?’” 

Michiko could feel herself unraveling under the careful gaze of the officer, the one that reeled her in one a finishing line helplessly. And in a display of attempted intimidation to rebel against that feeling, she threw him a casual smirk and said, ‘Because I’m a monster.”

The man didn’t seem amused by her performance, and leveled her with a soft gaze, “That’s funny. I don’t see a monster in front of me.” He shook his head and Michiko withered a little bit under his stare, “All I see is a scared little girl.”

Michiko was thrown off, and every bone, every muscle in her body was screaming at her to fly. So, when the officer's back was turned, and when she was sure no one else was watching her, she darted off quickly and quietly, and disappeared back out onto the streets, running away from those gentle eyes that scared her.

♤♡◇♧

Michiko ran down the mazes of nets, one hand clutching the cold metal of a box cutter, the weapon primed with the blade out, ready to attack or defend at a moment’s notice, the other hand gripping the warmth of another’s palm. 

When they’d entered the Laser Quest Arena, Michiko forced herself to steady her worries and calm her panic. They were in a game of life or death and she couldn’t afford for her emotions to take over

Every decision in this arena could mean a swift end, a fall into the abyss of nothingness. She had two lives in her hands at the moment. She needed a clear head.

Immediately taking off into the flashes of neon light and pounding of electronic music, Michiko took in everything around her. The ramps and platforms of the arena, the nets and the pillars to hide behind. The arena was large, with many places one could hide out, away from the searching eyes of the enemy. She ran into the arena dragging Kirika along with her, climbing up stairs, turning corners, and finding a vantage point that had several escape routes and a clear view of any incoming threats. Arata had taught her that in her brief interactions with him in the four of spades. To have plenty of escape routes.

The two girls hid behind a wall that was a couple of levels from where they had entered, catching their breath. Peeking up over the wall, Michiko watched the entrance. She could see behind the glass double doors, see the bodies of the rival team gearing up for the hunt. And above the door was a leaderboard, lit up mockingly as it displayed the number of lives of each team, reducing them to nothing but points in a game.

CATS          MICE

18            17

Michiko gulped at seeing all of their lives displayed upon the board. Thirty-five of them in this arena. How many would be walking out?

Ducking back behind the wall, Michiko turned to the other girl crouched next to her. Kirika’s eyes were blown out as the seriousness of the situation befell her. Her usual sunshine smile was knowhere to be found as she clutched her small knife to her chest.

“We-” she whispered out, “we could really die. Are those people really gonna come after us?” The other girl asked as she turned her terrified gaze to Michiko. 

Michiko nodded, whispering back, “There’s no telling what people are willing to do to survive.” She looked down at her shoes, remembering blood that had stained a previous pair, her hands covered with it, the body that had laid beneath her in a previous game. She shook her head, ridding herself of the intruding memories. Focus on the present, she reminded herself, Do what you have to do .

Turning back to Kirika, she said, “we have to be ready to run at any moment, to fight back. Do what you have to.”

“Will Mr. Nakajima and Chishiya be okay?” Kirika asked worriedly.

Michiko gulped, “I’m sure they will.” She didn’t know who she was trying to convince more, Kirika, or herself. 

However, in the middle of everything that had happened in the last ten minutes, in the midst of all the chaos, Michiko had forgotten about the blonde haired man who followed their group like a shadow. No doubt he had slipped off on his own, his priorities remaining on his own life. She was sure he would be fine, and would emerge at the end of the game having hidden himself away until the team won, or he’d figured out another solution. 

But Chishiya wasn’t what mattered right now, so she pulled her thoughts away from the blonde-haired man. All that mattered at the moment was ensuring her and Kirika’s survival.

A voice chimed out of their phones, counting down from five. And the gates of hell slipped open, allowing the predators out on the prowl.

♤♡◇♧

It was the second time that he met Nara Michiko that he got her name. Ichida felt a sense of deja vu as he picked up a call to apprehend another thief, and the petulant girl with the long dark hair who’d claimed she was a monster was the culprit. He’d found himself pleasantly surprised to see her again.

They repeated the same motions as last time, with her sitting in the chair across from him, pouting, arms crossed, refusing to give him any ground. There was a familiar voice whispering in the back of his head, and he was transported back in time, with the face of a ghost sitting before him. A similar look was on her face, having been caught stealing extra snacks from the pantry.

Ichida shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. The report from her previous escapades sat opened in front of him, including the swift getaway she had made. “That brings us up to two counts of theft and one count of evading arrest. You’re giving yourself a fast track to a life in and out of prison here.” Ichida looked up at the girl, and really looked into her eyes. In them he saw the reflection of a very similar pair. The eyes he saw in his dreams. The eyes he saw in the mirror every night. Tired, giving up, a lack of spark. The achingly familiar voice whispered a little louder.

“Listen,” the tone in his voice shifted, attempting to block the voice out before his heart shattered, “You seem like a good kid, I don’t want to see you get into trouble. Just give me a name, and I’ll make this whole process easier. I will do my best to get your charges dropped. But you have to give me something to work with here, kid.” 

He saw, momentarily, a flicker. Minute cracks formed in her stubborn facade as he poked at her with a more gentle approach.

“Michiko.” She mumbled. Ichida wrote it down.

“Family name?” He pushed further. Michiko hesitated, as if letting slip her family name was poison on her tongue. She murmured quietly, just out of reach of Ichida’s hearing. “Can you repeat that?”

Michiko diverted her eyes, trying her best to put her detached persona back in place, “Nara Michiko.”

The name rang familiar in Ichida’s head. He recalled a case. Quite the brutal one from a few years past. And he realized there was far more complexity to the issues the girl in front of him faced. And perhaps, there were many more things he could understand about her. In two souls, there was a kindredness formed that day. Two people who shared similar pain coming together, as if it was fated. What they didn’t realize was the threads that the fates were weaving that day were ones leading to a path of tragedy.

The whispering voice grew into a roaring thunder.

♤♡◇♧

Gunshots rang out immediately as Ichida entered the arena. Up front, a body fell to the floor with a sickening thud. But Ichida allowed his mind to bypass this, his vision tunneling on an opening the gunfire created in the group.

The shots were raining down from above with reckless abandon paired with deranged laughter slightly masked by the pounding electronic music that blared from speakers around the arena. Ichida could only hope the culprit would keep up his careless wastage of bullets. It would eliminate one issue at least. 

He descended into the maze, sticking to the cover of darkness, avoiding the flashing neon lights. Not that the bright red LED vest he adorned was helping with camouflage.

The man was hyper focused, on the lookout for flashes of blue. The gunfire had ceased after around eight rounds, the shooter having given up after all the red bodies had scattered into the dark. That only meant that he was now on the prowl, aching to hunt down and turn the tables on the predators. 

Taking close stock of his surroundings, Ichida spied the large scoreboard above the glass doors of the entrance.

CATS                 MICE

15                     17

Tracing his eyes from the scoreboard that displayed the amount of lives at risk of dying in this game, Ichida counted the bodies on the floor. One. Two. Three. Three lost to the game already, and it hadn’t even been two minutes by his estimations. Ichida breathed out a sigh, nodding his head in respect to the lost souls, before steeling himself and turning back to gaze into the dark maze that lay before him. There were glimpses of red, flashing through on the prowl. In the distance, blue glared back at him. A red light snuck up on the blue and Ichida’s nerves prickled at his skin. There was a masculine scream that echoed through the arena, and the blue light suddenly cut out, and Ichida breathed out in relief. It wasn’t any of the girls, he was thankful for that.

Behind him, the number seventeen flickered down to sixteen.

Ichida looked around. The arena was large, from what he could tell. Several levels of ramps, stairs and walls. Mazes of nets and soft mat flooring. Jungle gym equipment here and there to up the difficulty of crossings. The mix of neon and UV lights and the blaring music created a dizzying atmosphere, leaving one paranoid over something would jump out at them from the dark.

Ichida felt like he was a boy again, playing inside the funhouses at the carnivals and theme parks his parents would take him to on birthdays. Only this was far from child's play. 

Keeping his eyes open for flashes of red or blue, and listening out for hurried footsteps upon the floors, Ichida descended into the maze, determined to track down his charges, and take down any threats he could along the way.

♤♡◇♧

It was there second meeting that Michiko gave him his name, knowing what would befall once she gave it.

“Nara Michiko.”

As soon as she uttered it, Michiko waited to see it.

To see the same looks people always cast her with as soon as they heard her family name. The pitying eyes. The wary glances. Hypocrites, all of them. They pitied what happened to her. They were sympathetic of the misfortune that befell her. That befell her mother.

Yet they remained cautious around her, shared glances and harsh whispers. Eyes that regarded her with a hidden hatred. They were waiting for her to snap, as though she were a violent dog waiting for the opportunity to bite. 

She wasn’t a violent dog. But the more people stared at her. The more people expected her to bite, she felt inclined to do so. To meet their expectations if only to get them to stop looking at her with false pity in their eyes. She would much prefer the hatred over that. 

Humanity always waited for a reason to hate, so perhaps she would give them one.

She expected to see the same look in the eyes of the officer who’s name she forgot.

But she didn’t. Instead of pity, instead of fake sympathy, instead of looking at her like she was about to rip his head off, there was something else in the officer’s eyes. An understanding. A deep sense of awareness, like he knew her pain intimately. As if he’d experienced that acute pain himself.

“Michiko huh?” He didn’t even say her family name, as if it didn’t even exist to him. “That’s a lovely name. Means beautiful, wise child doesn’t it?”

And he sent her a smile, as if he was looking at the loveliest thing in the world.

♤♡◇♧

The maze was filled with the sounds of desperate panting as Michiko and Kirika fled down the soft play flooring, footsteps hitting the mats with soft slaps. The two girls clutched each other's hand tight as they ran away from the approaching red light behind them.

There was a short scream and a sharp tug on her arm, her shoulder socket screaming as Kirika was ripped away from her. As Kirika’s hand was pulled from her own, the force sent Michiko stumbling to the ground, her head hitting off the wall next to her.

“Michiko!” She heard Kirika’s voice scream in distress, and the other girl looked up through fuzzy vision to see Kirika being held down, a large mass of a man dressed in a tattered business suit straddled above her writhing body. The man pressed a knife down towards her, saliva and spittle flying from his mouth as he mumbled desperate apologies to the younger girl, claiming his own desire for survival more important than hers. Kirika fumbled at the man's meaty arms, hands desperately trying to keep the weapon at bay, terrified cries ripping from her throat.

Michiko’s eyes flickered to the escape route on the other side of her, the dark corridor of the netted maze whispering tantalizingly. She could get away whilst the CAT was distracted. She considered it, only briefly, before instinct won out in the end when Kirika’s anguished, tearful eyes met her own.

If she left, she’d be leaving the other girl to die. And as much as Michiko thought her annoying, the image of the girl who offered her pocky on their second day of knowing each other flashed through her mind. The sunshine smile that she gave her, warmth that almost chipped away at the monster inside of her.

So Michiko clutched her box cutter tight in her hand, and channeled the burning rage she had felt once before in the four of spades game. She surged forward, creeping up behind the man whilst his focus was away from her, and plunged the box cutter deep into his neck. She tried not to think about her actions as she felt the warm spray of blood hitting her hand. 

The man’s arms pulled away from Kirika as he grasped at his neck upon the assault, gurgling weakly as his body stumbled to the ground. Michiko pulled the knife out, the wet noise of the blade being removed from flesh turning her stomach momentarily. But she steeled herself with the adrenaline running in her veins, and reminded herself of what Ichida had told her over a week beforehand. Sometimes it was necessary to kill in defense of herself and others. He didn’t know if it would ever get easier to do though.

And watching Kirika scramble out from under the man, alive and unharmed, if a bit trussed up, she didn’t regret her decision. This world required violence. And violence was in her blood. So for this occasion, she would bite. She would be the violent dog that was expected of her.

Kirika looked at the body of the man, blood still gushing out from his neck as he clung to it weakly, a last desperate attempt to slow the inevitable, and watched him go still. She gulped down the acidic bile rising in her throat, hand clutching at her mouth to hold it down.

Across from her, Michiko reached out and grabbed her arm with her unbloodied hand, “Hey,” she called out, shaking the other girl slightly, “Hey, breathe. We need to stay focused. Others might’ve heard all that screaming, we need to go.” 

With tears welling up in her eyes, and trembling breaths, Kirika nodded as she clenched her shaking fists.

Neither of the girls acknowledged the fact that Michiko had considered potentially leaving Kirika to the wolves. It was an unnecessary tension in their current predicament. Instead, without saying anything, they continued on, leaving the still warm body of the would-be killer behind them. They kept hold of each other tight, creeping their way around the arena on the lookout for approaching red lights.

Michiko glanced down at her phone, where the scoreboard was also displayed.

CATS         MICE

13             14

Their team was winning marginally, but Michiko counted the fallen cats from when the game had started. The reds had lost five people, and she despised the thought of Ichida potentially being one of them. Another cold body left to rot in a place where no one cared.

But it was a thought she couldn’t dare to amuse. It would leave her unfocused and open for attack. She had to keep herself and Kirika safe, that was priority number one. She convinced herself that Ichida was a survivor. He had proved that in the four of spades. He was strong enough. They would survive this game. Michiko just had to think of a way that they all could without Ichida having to be sacrificed. There had to be a solution. All games had a solution to them. She just had to find it, just like she had with the games she had played before.

The two girls stilled, muscles freezing and breaths silenced as they caught sight of approaching red lights. Around the corner, a cat came. A young man, probably only a few years older than them. Michiko recognised him as one of the lackeys flanking the two dangerous men from the reception earlier. He was clad in a yellow Hawaiian-style shirt underneath the lit up vest, and plain swimming trunks, which was quite odd attire, she thought. In his hand, he held a wicked looking machete, and above it on his wrist, Michiko spied a bracelet that looked like some sort of locker key, another strange piece of attire. Something about the look of it rang familiar in her mind. 

But she didn’t have time to think about where she had seen something of a similar nature before, as the young man smirked at the two girls. 

Michiko’s arm instinctively shielded Kirika as the man rasped out, “Seems I’ve found myself two little lost mice.” He slinked towards them, and the two girls stepped back as the man broke into a sudden run. Michiko readied her box cutter, pushing Kirika behind her as the other girl clutched back of her vest. But before any move could be made to harm them, a deafening bang sounded out, causing the girls to flinch and clutch tighter at each other. The young man fell to the ground with a sickening thud, unmoving, a deep red pooling around his head.

Snapping her head around to catch sight of the culprit, Michiko breathed out a heavy sigh of relief upon seeing the familiar figure standing there, resolute, gun firmly aimed with a smoking barrel. 

♤♡◇♧

Ichida’s heart had been in his throat as he finally caught sight of the two girls he had been hunting in the arena for. The screams had reached him and he had followed, finally finding them in the great expanse of the arena. Then he saw the man in the flashing red vest move towards them, and automatically his gun had been raised, aimed and fired without hesitation.

Once the man had fallen, he took in the sight of his girls, closely huddled together with Michiko taking the role of the protector. Her hand clutched at her bloodied box cutter tightly, and he knew she had done her job well.

The older man rushed forward and, without reservation, pulled Michiko into his arms. He had been terrified watching the scoreboard whittle the numbers down, his mind constantly entertaining the thought of it being either of them.

But he had placed his faith in their ability to survive, and here they were, reunited once again in this deadly game of life and death. And no matter the fact of them being on opposing sides, he would defend them with his life.

They were his girls, and nothing was taking them away. Not again.

Michiko had reciprocated the hug, and Ichida was delighted at the thought of her lack of hesitation upon the contact. But he couldn’t let himself sit in the euphoria of that now. Instead, he released her, nodding his head down the maze in a silent message, and the trio ran until they found themselves in a hidden alcove. Somewhere in the near distance, there were shouts, cries and thudding of bodies hitting the floor. There were a couple of gunshots, a beat of manic laughter and a scream.

Once they settled again, drowning out the sickening sounds, Michiko looked down at her phone to view the scoreboard.

 CATS        MICE

  10             10

The game was even, both cats and mice having an equal amount of remaining players. But what the cats didn’t know was the mice had the upper hand. One of their own was playing against them. And Ichida was going to use that advantage. 

Unclipping the magazine of his gun, Ichida counted his bullets. He had plenty remaining to deal with the rest of his opponents. He’d laid low the entire game whilst he searched for the girls, allowing the mice team to take out his own teammates to give him less work to do when it was time for him to act.

It was almost that time now. 

The sound of their breathing echoed around them, mixing with continuously pounding electronic music as the three of them sat in the tenseness that had settled over the arena. It was broken a second later, the girls flinching upon hearing a gleeful voice call out into the neon atmosphere, cutting through the music on the speakers. 

“Come on out kitty cats!” A few seconds passed. 

Another scream. 

A bang.

A thud.

A cackle.

The man the voice belonged to had no qualms about revealing his own location, playing on the knife’s edge, teetering himself between life and death as if it were a playground. 

It was a danger Ichida couldn’t risk facing, not whilst with the girls. 

The scoreboard took the cats down to nine. Then eight. Then the mice followed, going down another player. 

Ichida had made his mind up some time ago. If he had to lay down his own life so be it. If this was where it would be, then it would be.

He recalled his conversation with Chishiya some time ago. The question the other man asked of him.

“This world doesn’t play by the rules of the normal world. Most people tend to be selfish in situations like this. If it came down to it, would you choose to put their survival above yours?”

His answer was ‘ of course ’. He would gladly give his life if it meant Michiko’s survival. 

That was the role of a father after all. That was his will as a father.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep steading breath, he turned to the girls, finding that they already had their eyes on him, waiting for his guiding hand. He looked at the resounding terror in Kirika’s eyes, the blood staining Michiko’s clothes and her hands, splatters of red on her face. He stared into her deep brown eyes, eyes that were far older than her body, and had seen far more than someone her age should’ve. The eyes he had recognised when he first saw her. They were the same eyes he saw everyday in the mirror. And in the ghosts that haunted him. 

She had been his reason not to only survive, but to live again. In such a small amount of time she had become his entire world, something he could never replace. His gaze softened as he reached out, grazing her cheek with his fingers. He could feel the hot tears welling in his eyes as he smiled softly at the girl, who only stared back at him in confusion.

“You’re going to beat this world, Michiko. I know it.” He looked behind her, eyes catching a glimpse of the presence who had snuck up on them, who had been watching the entire scene with jaded eyes that he attempted to hide. But Ichida always saw too much. It was the curse of his experiences of fatherhood. He knew the glimpses of fragility in one's gaze, could sense the hurt they had been put through. When one had been through it themselves, they learned to sense it in others easily. 

He knew a man who had shut himself off from the world when he saw one, because he had been that man himself. So he felt okay leaving Michiko in the hands of the blonde haired shadow. He somehow knew that they would become each other’s clutch, kindred spirits who would open each other up to the world once again. Even if he wasn’t there to see it happen. Michiko’s own walls matched his, perhaps they would break down each other’s one day. He placed his faith in that fact.

This world is cruel, he thought to himself as he turned and stalked away, beginning a hunt of his own. He didn’t dare turn around, because if he did, he knew he would no longer have the strength to do what needed to be done.

♤♡◇♧

As soon as Ichida began walking away, Michiko began voicing her protests, hands instinctively reaching out to grip at his coat sleeve. But she was distracted by her arm being gripped by another hand from behind her. 

Reflexively she whipped around, box cutter about to meet the flesh of whoever had dared to attack whilst her back was turned. But upon seeing the familiar face of Chishiya, she relaxed her arm slightly. The man raised his eyebrow slightly at the poised weapon in her hand, before she let it fall back to her side.

Swallowing her surprise upon seeing the blonde appear out of nowhere, she jerked her head back around. “Ichida.” She hissed out, but the man back had already retreated around a corner, the red light of his vest disappearing, leaving only a sea of blue light surrounding them. “No no no, come back!” Her voice began to rise, trembling slightly. She attempted to follow, legs automatically stepping after the older man, but Chishiya had an iron grip on her arm.

The man's voice hissed quietly to her. “Do you want to give away our position?” His words reached her, and she steadied her breathing, mind working a mile a minute to figure out what she should do. Should she go after Ichida? The man gave no explanation to his actions, just gave her a vague, confusing statement about beating this world, then turned and walked off into the sea of neon and netting surrounding them. She could still feel the lingering warmth of his hand on her cheek. Or was that just the blood?

She turned back to Chishiya searching for answers. “What’s he doing?” As if in answer to her question, a gunshot fired nearby, causing Michiko and Kirika to flinch as Kirika’s eyes searched their surroundings for any oncoming danger.

Michiko looked down at her phone, watching the numbers of CATS change to seven. 

“It seems as though he’s chosen now to turn on his teammates.” Chishiya commented wryly. 

Michiko’s head shook, “I don’t, I don’t understand. Why couldn’t he just stay. We would have defended each other.”

“He would still die.” Chishiya stated, “Being on the other team means in order for us to live he would have to die. He knew that.” Chishiya reminded her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was. It was a massive problem glaring right at her face. “He’s just chosen to speed along the process of us winning.”

She refused to believe it, refused to accept what was right in front of her, “No… no there has to be a way.” Michiko steeled herself, nodding, lips trembling as she held back the rising panic following Ichida’s actions, “there has to be a way. There’s always been a way. We’ve survived two games with all players living, I know there is a solution to this where he makes it out to.” She was spilling, letting her thoughts out in her distress, trying to find something to trigger an answer. There had to be an answer. “Something in the rules…”

Thinking back, Michiko recited the game rules in her head from what she could remember. 

CATS, YOU MUST HUNT DOWN THE MICE

MICE, YOU MUST DEFEND YOURSELVES AGAINST THE CATS

GAME WILL BE CLEAR ONCE ONLY ONE COLOUR REMAINS ON THE FIELD

One colour, one colour. Red or blue? Vests that light up. Red or blue. Laser tag. Laser tag vests lose their colour when they’ve been shot with a laser tag gun. One colour remaining. Michiko circled the thought and grasped on it, remembering another key rule of the game.

YOU MAY SELECT FROM THE WEAPONS PROVIDED FOR EACH TEAM AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE ARENA

The tables of weapons. She didn’t look at them before entering the arena, thoughts too fixed on the fact that Ichida had been assigned the opposite team. Her thoughts had been spiraling and she forgot to notice the details. But she had someone next to her who always knew every detail as if he had designed the games himself. He was keenly observant, she had learned that from playing alongside him.

She turned to the blonde, “Do you remember seeing any laser quest guns at the entrance to the arena.”

Chishiya only replied with his constant, infuriating smirk, causing Michiko’s ire to rise, “I don’t know. There were lots of weapons, I don’t think I can remember everything that was there.”

“Stop bullshitting me Chishiya!” Michiko spat out, the venom in her words causing him to raise an eyebrow, “You always know everything before everyone else does. Now tell me if you saw any.”

“There were,” a quiet voice piped up from behind them, and Michiko spun around to face the other girl that she almost forgot was there, her presence a silent ghost in the corner.

Upon hearing her words, Michiko felt something light rising inside her, bubbling up underneath the layers of sorrow and hate she had covered herself with over years of tormenting memories. That light crumbled those layers away, revealing something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope.

“ We can save him.”

♤♡◇♧

Ichida crept through the maze of neon lights, nets and platforms, firearm gripped in his hands, muscles coiled and tensed like a snake ready to strike. His mission was simple: eliminate the threat. The one’s standing in the way of his girl’s victory. There were seven cats left according to the scoreboard, including him. That meant six to hunt down. And there were eight mice. That meant at least five threats that could potentially take him out before the job was done.

There were two he had to really worry about. 

A gleeful laugh sounded somewhere above him, a stray shot, then a curse. Footsteps chasing down the missed target. Ichida froze, allowing the noise to pass before he silently crept on. That was the one threat he really didn’t want to come across.

The younger man had a familiar glint in his eye that Ichida had seen before

He had just turned twenty-two and was wrapped up intimately in a bloodbath. The massacre was the result of gang conflicts, the warring having gotten so out of hand that civilian casualties were involved. Ichida’s far more experienced partner had ordered him on civilian evacuation. 

He was aiding a young woman to flee the area, when the action reached him. Gunshots sung out a tragic tune, following behind him. He turned, arm automatically raising his gun in defense. His finger was placed on the trigger, but he hesitated upon seeing the figure in front of him. A boy, no older than twenty, clothes splattered in a sickening red. The boy grinned at Ichida’s hesitation, and the man glimpsed in his eyes and saw something repulsive. There was no regret in this boy's eyes, nothing but a manic delight in the carnage that was being caused. Ichida was sure he’d seen the devil that day.

And when the boy turned his weapon upon the woman at his back, Ichida’s instinct had him fire the shot. His aim was true, the bullet striking the boy in the head. His body dropped far quicker than Ichida expected, stilling. And Ichida couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene. 

The younger man reminded Ichida of the boy he shot. His first intimate experience with death. It was as if the boy had been reincarnated into this manic, gleeful figure that hunted him down. A ghost exacting his vengeance. 

The manic, gun-wielding killer was something Ichida did not want to face head on. 

And neither was his equally dangerous partner. Ichida had spent over half of his years in the police force. He knew a military man when he saw one. One that walked hand in hand with violence, his body honed into a weapon itself. 

Ichida could almost feel the stocky man's presence prowling the arena like a tiger, waiting to come across unsuspecting prey, poised to strike hard and fast. 

The older man hoped he had succeeded in his mission before he came across either of these men. If he had at least done that, he would welcome whatever they had in store for him as long as it meant the girls were safe. But for now, he would avoid them at all cost, until he had done what needed to be done.

A figure sporting a red vest turned the corner. They raised their weapons, the opponent breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing the matching colour Ichida sported. The officer didn’t hesitate. The other man in the red vest didn’t even have time to acknowledge the betrayal. Ichida pictured the devilish boy from thirty years ago in his mind, and fired. The body hadn’t even hit the floor before Ichida was off. 

Seven became six.

♤♡◇♧

Chishiya protested the idea immediately. Michiko found that she wasn’t even surprised. Something she had learned about the man was that everything he did was purely in his own self interest. He had stopped Michiko from going after Ichida only because he didn’t want her to make enough noise to give away his position. And now…

“You want me to risk my life on a potential solution that might not even work?” The blonde raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms as Michiko explained what she believed may be the solution to the game.

Michiko glared back at him as Kirika’s head volleyed back and forth between the two figures, the tension that rose between them prickled up the back of her neck. 

“You don’t have to come with us. I know how you feel about sticking your neck out for strangers. But you aren’t stopping me from going. If there’s any chance he could survive this, I’m taking it.” Michiko stated firmly, eyes never leaving Chishiya’s.

The man huffed slightly, voice remaining even, “Then as I said before, you’re a fool. You’ll only get yourself killed in the process.” 

“And that’s my own choice. My life is my own to do with as I please.” Michiko turned to Kirika, “You don’t have to come either, you can stay hidden until the end of the game if you want.”

Kirika pondered for a second, a tinge of anxiety creeping over her gaze, before she steeled her eyes and confidently gazed back at Michiko, hiding the terror that lay behind them, “Mr. Nakajima looked after me in my first game, made sure I was okay. And he took me in after. If there’s a chance we could save him, I want to help.”

The corner of Michiko’s lips twitched, before she schooled herself, gaze flitting back to Chishiya for a second. “Maybe we’ll see each other again. Maybe not.” She shrugged, tone matching the condescension held in his gaze.

“Maybe you’ll be dead.” Chishiya shot back easily.

Michiko turned away, the box cutter sitting easily in her palm as she stalked through the arena. Kirika gulped, staring back at Chishiya as she followed behind.

The two girls were met with no resistance on their way back to the entrance of the arena. Nearer the back end of the space, they heard the taunting voice that had been calling out with reckless abandon the entire game, luring the CATS to their doom at his hand. There was a gunshot somewhere, the echo in the arena making it impossible to pinpoint the exact location over the music blaring through the speakers. 

They arrived at the end of the cover the platform above them provided before the big open space before the entrance, the automatic glass doors closed. The scoreboard above the entrance revealed the amount of players left.

CATS      MICE

  6          7

As she stared at it, the six flickered down to five as a gunshot resonated through the arena again. Four CATS remain to take out until Ichida is the only one left. They needed to act quickly before he became the prime target of the remaining MICE. Once he was alone he’d be hunted down gy the prey turned predator.

Michiko studied their surroundings, searching for any slight glimpses of life hiding in the shadows casted by the neon and UV lights. But the headache-inducing atmosphere caused by the cacophonic mixture of the lights and music made it hard to make out. There wasn’t any glow of red or blue, which relaxed Michiko slightly. No sign of life was visible in the surrounding areas, only the couple of bodies cast in red near the entrance. The first casualties of the game.

“Do you see anyone?” Kirika whispered from behind her.

Michiko shook her head, stray hairs sticking to her sweaty forehead as she turned back to the other girl. “Where did you say the lazer tag guns were?”

“Above the weapons tables, there were a few hung up there.” Kirika revealed.

Nodding her head, Michiko fixed her gaze back on the doors, “I’ll go, you stay here. Shout if you see anyone approaching.”

Kirika nodded mutely, and Michiko gave their surroundings one more scope, before breathing deeply to calm her racing heart and shooting off directly to the doors. There was no other activity, no other footsteps running after her in the process, and she reached the doors with ease. They slid open, inviting her through them and she swiveled to the side, finding her gaze on the display case above the weapons tables. 

And sure enough, exactly as Kirika had said, there were a few lazer tag guns displayed above the weapons table, having been hanging there as a blaring sign the entire time. Grabbing one, Michiko darted back through the doors, back into the arena to face death’s awaiting grasp. 

She sprinted back to the cover of the platform, joining Kirika in a semblance of semi-safety. 

“You got it.” Kirika exclaimed in a whispered tone. 

Michiko nodded, turning back to one of the red clad bodies laid in the entrance. An idea came to mind, and she lifted the bulky, plastic gun up, aiming at one of the bodies. A red dot found the vest, and Michiko fired.

And confirming her suspicions, the vest that dressed the body flicked between red and black a few times, before landing solidly on the same vibrant blue that coloured Michiko and Kirika’s vest.

GAME WILL BE CLEAR ONCE ONLY ONE COLOUR REMAINS ON THE FIELD

Michiko huffed out a laugh of relief, the hope that had been bubbling up in her chest expelling itself into the breathy sound as it spilled out of her. Next to her Kirika grasped her arm, and a smile lit up her face as she shook Michiko slightly, laughing alongside her. As Michiko turned to face her, Kirika’s smile infected her as they both shared the same thought. They could win the game and save Ichida. 

They could save Ichida.

They darted off back into the arena, beginning to track down the man who had done his best to hold both of them together during their darkest moments. The man who had become such a precious thing within both of their hearts.

Behind them, above the arena entrance, the number below MICE flickered to display five. And the CATS. One.

♤♡◇♧

Ichida lay back against the wall, breathing heavily, the exhaustion of his endeavors catching up to him. His arms hung limply by his side, gun loosely held in hand as he drowned out the world for a moment. The last of his teammates hadn’t gone down without a fight. Blood, thick and warm, coated the man’s fingers as he pressed onto the wound at his side. He could feel the beginnings of fatigue as the edges of his vision blurred and darkened. The body of his assailant lay only five feet away, slowly losing heat. The younger man had fought with all of his strength, having taken Ichida by surprise after witnessing the older man take out one the last of their teammates. But he couldn’t outmatch the will of a father. Ichida had taken him out in the fistfight with an unexpected shot to the gut. 

Now, the man sat, awaiting whatever fate would befall him. The sound of that last gunshot would no doubt attract the last remaining players hunting down the last CAT, and he would become their final victim. Or he would maybe bleed out before that ever happened. He could at least take solace in the fact that Michiko would survive this. And he trusted that she would continue to survive even further in this world.

Ignoring the sharp headache caused by the pounding music and the flashing lights, Ichida contemplated what to do now. He checked his ammo clip. It was empty. If he had a bullet to spare, he could’ve gone on his own terms. Could’ve ended the game then and there, allowing the others to escape and survive another night. Instead, he would have to wait until he was found, and someone finished the job for him, or his body gave out from his injuries. 

Feeling the end creeping ever closer, the shadowy figure of death encroaching upon him, all of the noise and the light of the world around Ichida fell away. 

In the silence, he heard it. A whisper of a ghost long past. The voice beckoned him, and his eyes reached out, beyond his surroundings, beyond the darkness. There was sunny daylight, coarse sand underneath his bare feet. The ringing laughter of a young girl, dark hair cut short to her shoulders as she refused to grow it out like her mother had wanted. She splashed in the early morning shallow waves, just at the edge of the shore. When she caught his eye, she sent him the warmest grin, and gestured for him to join her. Ichida stepped forward, finally ready to do so. He would happily join her side now, frozen in eternity on that shoreline. With his Himiko.

His phantom vision broke when he heard footsteps approach him across the floor, heavy boots thudding against the solid mats. Breaking his eyes away from the ghost of his daughter, Ichida caught eyes with the man from the reception. The one that had stood as a silent presence beside his grinning maniac of a companion. His hair was shaved in a buzz cut and there were the beginnings of a mustache starting to emerge above his lip. The hunting knife gripped in his hand had remnants of blood starting to dry on the blade, evidence of his part in the violence. Ichida wondered if this was the weapon he was to meet his end by. The man came to a stop about twenty feet away from him as he surveyed the scene with a quiet inquisitiveness. 

“You killed your own teammates.” The other man broke the silence as he finally brought his eyes to the tired older officer, a hint of curiosity behind them as he studied the man.

Ichida sighed, the corner of his lips tilting up in a grimace of pain. “Do you have anyone you love dearly?” Was all he asked of the other man as he met his gaze. There was a shift behind his dark eyes that Ichida caught swiftly. The older man smiled softly upon seeing that momentary softness. “Wouldn’t you do everything in your power to protect them?” 

The other man’s lips downturned slightly, as his eyes fell to the ground slightly, a small collapse in his wall of strength. Before it could crumble entirely, the man gripped at his hunting knife, steeling the edges of his gaze and turning back to Ichida. Gulping slightly, he nodded to the man with a sense of recognition, a silent respect. “I can make it quick.” He offered.

Ichida chuckled slightly, breath beginning to come out in short pants as his strength waned. Grabbing at the wall behind him, he used it as a crutch to pull himself up with excruciating effort.. Once his feet were under him, he remained leaning against the wall as he faced the other man head on in one last act of resolve. If he were to die here, he wanted to go out with whatever strength still lay in his bones, “That would be nice.” He whispered with a smile.

Just as the other man took a step closer, knife ready to strike where it would be quickest and least painful, two sets of rushing footsteps approached from behind Ichida. He heard a familiar, wonderful voice call out his name. Turning his head back, he saw her . In her arms was a bulky, plastic gun that she held up towards him. And for just a second, in her place, Ichida saw short trimmed hair, a figure wearing shorts by the water’s edge. A beaming smile that was solely for him.

Just as he felt the red light reflecting on the skin of his face turn brilliant blue, and a rush of hope surged through him, a deafening gunshot sounded from behind him. A searing pain ripped through his back.

♤♡◇♧

The desperate footsteps of the two girls echoed down the maze of walls and nets, their voices calling out Ichida’s name as they threw all caution to the wind in hopes of tracking down and saving the man they’d both come to care about deeply. 

There was a gunshot that had rung out moments prior, and the girls sped towards the sound. Their muscles ached from them pushing themselves to their limit as they endeavoured to reach the older man in time. Twisting around corners, Michiko’s voice carried over the thunderous music as she called out Ichida’s name. There was no need to be cautious now there was only one cat remaining. It was merely a race against time that they found him before anyone else. Before the feral man who had been murdering without hesitation found him.

Restless panic had begun to creep in at the edges of the hope Michiko felt in her chest. Every second that they spent searching was a second closer to losing him forever. Michiko refused to let that happen. Not again. She wouldn’t ever let herself be that helpless little girl from years ago, coming home and finding her mother’s body lying on the living room floor. The madman that she once called her father casually sat, waiting for her to arrive. The menacing grin he gave her when he told her everything would be alright. The violence behind his eyes, but also the endless pain he tried to hide. Michiko had witnessed it all that day, everything her father had held back, the monster he had kept secretly hidden away. It all came pouring out and Michiko was the one to witness it all.

She had inherited that same violence it had seemed. It lived under the surface of her skin.

But, underneath it all, underneath the walls that her father’s actions had built up, was her mother’s kindness. Buried deep for years, under all the suffering she had lived through, to be unveiled by the man she now set out to save after his years of digging. No, she would not go through it again.

The edge of her vision caught sight of a red glow, and she called out his name as she chased it down. He was there, caught in the middle of the corridor between herself, and the stocky, serious man from the reception. The other man had been in the process of stepping towards Ichida, knife raised and ready to strike. His footsteps froze momentarily as he witnessed Michiko approach from the other side, lazer tag gun held up.

Ichida turned around to face her, and Michiko caught the glimpse in his eye of a father laying his eyes on his daughter. There was an infinite love held behind those eyes, one that she had closed herself off to for far too long. It only took almost losing him to this world to realise that. Pressing the trigger of the gun, she watched the vest flicker on and off, before lighting up that brilliant blue, matching the remaining players of the game. For a single split second, all was too well. They had won. Michiko had figured out a way to beat the game.

If only that building euphoria could’ve lasted.

It all happened too fast for Michiko to process. The single split second after the vest changed colour, a deafening bang echoed from the other side of the hall, followed by a celebratory whoop. It took Michiko a few seconds to recognise it as a gunshot. Ichida’s back ricocheted from the force of the bullet, and the man’s knees buckled underneath him as he fell against the wall at his side. 

Everything around Michiko slowed down, sound escaped her, creating a rushing in her ears as her entire being went numb at the sight. She watched the blood pooling around where Ichida sat, thick and horrifying and her stomach dropped so much she felt like she was going to be sick. Ichida’s eyes flickered and his chest fell up and down in shallow breaths.

A menacing laugh pierced through the rushing silence, as the culprit stepped out from the shadows behind his silent companion, clapping him on the shoulder as he celebrated their victory. “Looks like it was an easy win for us in the end, eh Aguni?” His friend, Aguni, remained steadfastly silent as he observed Ichida’s figure on the ground. The nameless man then strode over to Ichida with all the casualty of a man who hadn’t just committed an unnecessary, senseless act of violence. He kicked at Ichida’s leg harshly. “Though I wouldn’t have guessed the old man would be the last one standing.” He pressed the still warm barrel of his gun underneath Ichida’s chin harshly, causing the man to wince and stir and the prodding. “Huh, look at that, the old man’s still alive. Shall I put him out of his misery?”

Michiko watched the scene with a distant gaze, unaware of Aguni’s sharp eyes watching her carefully, or Kirika’s figure behind her breaking down into fitful sobs. 

She was back there.

 She was that little girl again. Only this time her mother’s body was replaced with Ichida, and her father’s figure was replaced with the grinning stranger that towered above him.

Her eyes fell to her feet, where Ichida’s gun lay abandoned just two feet away. She bent down to pick it up, her knuckles whitening as they grip around the handle with a steel grip.

As the man pressed his finger against the trigger, Michiko felt the anger simmering underneath the surface, rising to meet the despair circling through her blood. The deadly, poisonous mixture that created the violence within her. “Get away from him.” She hissed sharply.

“Huh?” The stranger voiced, eyes flickering momentarily to her.

She acted too fast for him to process as she surged forward, swinging Ichida’s gun across his head, taking him by surprise. The man stumbled back from the unexpected force, away from Ichida and towards his friend who watched on in vague interest. Before collecting himself, Michiko had kneeled down, taking a protective stance over Ichida’s body, aiming the gun at the men before her, daring them to come any closer. Prey against predators. The tall man who had shot Ichida began to stalk back towards her, features twisting in a murderous rage. He stopped in his tracks, eyes finding the gun before lifting back to her face. “Do you even know how to use that brat?”

“You pull the trigger.” Michiko spat, finger resting on said trigger as she glared up at the taller man with the most menace she could muster up in that moment. Which was a lot, considering his actions just seconds prior.

The man’s muscles coiled, as if ready to pounce, before a voice broke through the tense standoff between them. “Niragi, stand down.” A deep voice ordered, coming from Aguni as he stepped forward towards the more volatile man, “The game’s already over.”

Niragi, as he was apparently called, sent Michiko one last glower before he stepped back to join his friend.

A hand reached up, softly gripping at Michiko’s hoodie, and a gasping voice called out her name. Michiko looked down at the culprit, finding Ichida gazing up at her through half-lidded eyes, a soft smile on his face. 

Reality set in at that moment, as Michiko let the anger go now that the danger was temporarily suspended. But that only left the despair upon seeing the amount of blood that had poured out of Ichida’s body whilst she had been standing off against Niragi. Michiko’s eyes flickered to the wound at his side and the one upon his shoulder, both bleeding out through his white shirt and green jacket. Her head began shaking, “No, no no no.” With trembling hands she placed them over his bleeding shoulder, trying to put enough pressure to staunch the blood flow. She only succeeded in slicking her hands with his blood and causing him to wince at the pain.

“Michiko.” The man whispered out, attempting to get her to stop her frantic actions, one last desperate attempt to keep him living. 

“You aren’t dying, you arent. We did it, we saved you. We figured the game out. You weren’t meant to die!” Michiko could feel the beginnings of hot tears prickling at the bottoms of her eyes as she fumbled at Ichida’s wounds. “This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair.” She mumbled.

A hand was firmly placed upon her shoulder, causing her to stop suddenly and twist around to throw off whoever was trying to stop her from her attempts to provide aid. Her actions were halted upon seeing that Chishiya had once again emerged from the shadows, moving to halt her in her efforts to save Ichida for the second time that game. The blonde man gazed down at her, nothing being given away behind his gaze. There wasn’t a single shred of empathy behind his eyes. He simply shook his head minutely - clinically - letting her know there was nothing to be done. His cold display seeped into Michiko’s head, filling her with the understanding that there wasn’t anything she could do. Ichida would die here, in this horrible world. And she could do nothing about it. There was a ceaseless anguish in her gut, as she moved to look back down at Ichida, who, with his last shred of strength and resolve, lifted his hand to stroke lightly at her cheek.

He said nothing, didn’t have the breath to, but in that small gesture, and the affection in his fading gaze spoke of everything. His love for her, his pride, his legacy. Everything he was, he had done his best to pass down to her. And now, it was time for him to join his child, to stay eternally by that shoreline, building sandcastles and splashing in the waves. 

He closed his eyes for the final time, breathed one last rattling breath, leaving behind a child who would become lost once again.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 11-13

♤♡◇♧

Kirika had known death before. She had atteneded the funeral of her best friend just days before ending up in this world. She knew the pain that it brought, still raw and fresh, the cracks being worn on her heart like a glove. 

But this was the first time she had witnessed it first hand. Officer Nakajima had shown her kindness and decency in a world where those sorts of things had died screaming. He had taken her in, provided her care, let her experience the true love of a father. Something that she lacked in her life up until now. 

Now, he lay dead, body growing cold as the blood spilled out of him. The hand that had so delicately caressed Michiko’s cheek had fallen limply by his side, never to move again as he had taken his final breath. The girl by his side kneeled over his body, shocked into stillness, bloody hands still resting on Ichida’s bleeding wound to fight an already lost battle. 

They didn’t even have time to mourn or give him a proper send off.

“We’re taking them with us, Niragi.” 

Large hands grabbed at Kirika’s shoulders, forcing her abruptly away from the scene. The man with the buzzcut - she couldn’t quite recall his name - paused as they passed by Chishiya. “I trust you’ll come with us willingly?” The white haired man turned his curious gaze to the man, eyes flickering to the knife at his hip, then the gun still clasped in Niragi’s hand as he quietly seethed five feet away. 

Chishiya’s hand lifted in an easy surrender, “Fine with me.” They immediately went back into his pocket as the man at her shoulders nodded, tilting his head back to his companion.

“Niragi.” The call spurred the other man into action, and he pocketed his gun, storming over to an unresponsive Michiko, seizing her roughly under the arms.

“Come on then brat.” He muttered under his breath.

The response was immediate. Niragi’s hands triggered Michiko’s instincts, the girl screaming hoarsely and thrashing away from his grasp. Twisting around, the gun that lay forgotten at her knees was taken again, arms lifting to aim it at Niragi. The taller man was ready this time, catching Michiko’s wrist with lightning fast reflexes, twisting it around. Michiko cried out as her fingers dropped the weapon, attempting to tear herself away from Niragi’s grip, dragging herself back towards Ichida’s body like a lifeline. 

Her pitiful strength was no match for Niragi’s biological advantage, the man grasping at the top of her hoodie, pulling her to her feet as she squirmed, breathing heavily, arms flailing about to try and strike Niragi, “No! Let me go you ass! I’m not leaving him! No, no! No!” 

Kirka was not prepared to see her like this. Over the past week, Michiko had seemed so unshakeable. She didn’t trust easily and she put on a mask of apathetic strength. The only glimpses that had emerged through it were whenever she interacted with Ichida, the older man pulling out a softer version of the dour-faced girl, that was hidden behind a solidly built wall of defenses. 

Seeing that wall crumble now… It broke Kirika’s heart. Ichida meant the world to her, and he had been stripped away so ruthlessly by the man who now attempted to pull her away from what remained. They had been so close to saving him as well. If they had been just two seconds quicker, everything may have ended up differently. But fate was a cruel thing.

“Stop shouting so loudly bitch!” The butt of Niragi’s gun was brought down across her temple, striking her mercilessly as she crumpled into Niragi’s figure. Kirika cried out, feet automatically stepping forward, her path halted by the grip of the other man on her shoulders. Michiko’s head lolled forward, hanging limply. Her eyes were still open, blinking hazily, the hit not quite hard enough to send her into unconsciousness, but enough have her sufficiently docile. 

With ease, Niragi had her hefted up on his shoulder, turning to his companion at Kirika’s back, “Let’s go. This brat’s put me in a bad mood and now I need a drink.”

The headache-inducing music still blared through the speakers as they were escorted out, Chishiya stopping long enough to grab the device he’d left plugged into the wall at the beginning of the game. The man behind her had separated himself from her for a moment, grabbing the weapons he and his partner had left behind on the reception desk.

For a brief split-second, she had looked at the door and considered running. She liked to think she was fast enough. She could sprint away, not looking back whilst both men were sufficiently distracted, disappearing easily into the night. Then her eyes flickered to Michiko’s limp form.

Her heart tore itself into two that night, dividing her between right and wrong, life or death. In the future, when she looked back upon this moment, she wondered if things might have turned out differently had she chosen not to stay. 

Soon enough, the were piled into a car, Chishiya on the left, herself in the middle, and Michiko plopped down into the seat on the right without care. As their captors drove away, Niragi in the passenger seat sent smirks through the mirror back at them, his rifle back in its natural place on his shoulder as a warning sign. Kirika turned her attention back to Michiko, who sat silent in the seat next to her. No tears were shed. In fact, her eyes were unnervingly blank as she stared hazily at the ground. Her curtain of dark hair stuck to the side of her head with had bled from Niragi’s assault. 

But Kirika could see the slight tremble in her lips, the twitching in her jaw. Her fingers found the other girls hand, wrapping themselves around it to offer her as much comfort as the other girl could accept. Even if it was just the tiniest bit.

Michiko’s eyes shot down to the contact, blinking rapidly as she stared blankly down at their hands. She didn’t even look back at Kirika, nor did her hand move to grab back at her fingers. But she didn’t pull her hand away, and Kirika found herself immensely glad. 

Yes, when she looked back on this moment in the future, she would find herself not regretting the decision to stay.

♤♡◇♧

Admittedly, Michiko couldn’t remember much of the events after the Six of Hearts. Blinding pain at the side of her head that sent shockwaves through her body, hazy vision, the rumble of a car. That’s all she could recall. Then, a gentle warmth covering her hand. Through her blurred vision, she could just make out another small hand grasping hers. In her foggy state, she found herself leaning into that warmth, remaining within it.

She only vaguely recalled being dragged through a large building, stripped of any potential weapons and tied to a chair in a conference style room. That’s when her mind had somewhat cleared.

Then he sauntered into the room, loud and carefree, the sound of his voice drawing out the pounding still inside her head. He introduced himself as ‘Hatter’, the leader of the place they called the Beach. The Number One. Dressed simply in a pair of swimming shorts and an extravagantly patterned robe, his chest on full display and sunglasses over his eyes despite it being dark outside still. He had claimed he had the answer to the end of the games, and showed them a mural of a deck of cards spray painted on a sheet hung upon the back wall of the conference room. It was simple, he said. They work together to collect the whole deck. Once they do, then only one person can go home. Everyone had been numbered. The order people would go home in once they collected a complete deck. Once they managed to send one person home, everyone would move up a place. Rinse and repeat, until all of them made it.

Michiko thought it was bullshit. His basis for this theory was the fact that they were given VISA’s. And in Hatter’s mind that meant this alternate reality was a whole different country, separate from their native Japan. It just so happened to have the exact same appearance. He supposedly had reliable sources to back-up this theory of his.

Michiko listened half-heartedly to everything he had said, mind still semi-placed elsewhere in time, roughly an hour into the past. It had remained there until she had managed a fitful sleep that night. She believed Hatter to be an absolute madman.

“The Beach is a utopia.” He told them, trying to sell the place as somewhere you could live your life in paradise. An escape from the horror’s of the games. You could drink, do drugs, have as much sex as you wanted. He aimed these temptations more towards Chishiya, who couldn’t look less interested in what Hatter was selling, his gaze fixed against the card mural behind the long haired man. “You two might be a bit too young for all that, but who am I to stop you if that’s what you want.” He tried to joke with the two younger girls, neither cracking a hint of smile or laugh. His own smile fell slightly at their lack of reaction, both of their eyes distantly glazed, one in fear and one in dissociation. 

He sighed, before placing the smile back on his face and launching into a tirade about the Beach’s rules. In simple terms, the Beach had three rules.

Number one. You must always wear a swimsuit at the Beach. Hatter claimed it was so no one could hide weapons, as only a select few members of the Beach were permitted to do so. Apparently that included the madman with the rifle who casually leaned against the wall, still present at the meeting, his lips tilted up in a taunting smirk that he directed at the two younger girls. The very same madman who had fatally shot and killed Ichida. Michiko wondered who’s grand idea it was to allow someone that volatile to carry such a dangerous weapon. It was surely just a bomb that was just waiting to explode. 

Michiko glared murderously back at the man, hoping he could feel the anger that simmered underneath her skin, waiting to be unleashed. He merely stared smugly back at her, not backing down from her glowering. 

The Beach was supposedly a place with no secrets. All keys had been thrown away and the locks on the doors of the hotel rooms had been damaged. That meant no privacy since someone could just barge into your room at any moment. Hence, no secrets.

Rule number two of the Beach was that all cards collected by its residents in the games instantaneously became the Beach’s property. That meant Hatter owned all of the cards the group had collected up until that point. Michiko vaguely hung onto his explanation of why they did this. “Those who have contributed cards will be promoted in numerical order. Once we have sent the first person home with our collective efforts, it won’t be long before we can gather enough duplicate cards to send out the next few.”

Essentially, Hatter was sacrificing the lives of the Beach’s residents to give himself the chance to go home, is what Michiko had concluded. The whole idea and theory didn’t add up in her head. One person had to collect the whole deck of cards to be able to go home? Not counting the Joker's, there were fifty-two games of varying difficulty. There was no chance of a single person making it past fifty-two chances of dying. That made the theory less plausible in Michiko’s head. 

Chishiya had then finally spoken up, asking Hatter, “what happens if we don’t surrender our cards?”

Hatter’s expression took on a solemn and serious look, the atmosphere inside the room becoming frosty. “The third and final rule of the Beach,” he stated evenly, “death to traitors.”

Michiko didn’t remember much more after that. She recalled being shown to a room alongside Kirika to rest and sleep. But sleep evaded her. Everytime she closed her eyes, she was plagued with images from hours before. The dull pounding inside her brain also kept her awake, the pain not allowing her to rest easy. 

Laid in the twin sized bed, she stared up at the ceiling numbly. In the bed across from her, Kirika laid facing the wall. Michiko could tell that the other girl was struggling to find sleep as well, both of them haunted by the images of the Six of Hearts. Both sensed that neither wanted to start up conversation in the dark room in the middle of the night. They sat in their silence, tormented by memories. The music from whatever festivities were taking place outside was blasting away, reaching their solitary den, adding to their inability to find sleep.

Eventually, Michiko had found a fitful state of rest in the early hours of the morning once the music had eventually died down and ceased to add to her headache. Niragi had not been merciful with the strike of his gun.

The next morning, Michiko struggled to open her eyes. Her eyelids were heavy and the assault of light sent waves of sharpness through her brain. Blinking rapidly to clear her fuzzy vision, her hand reached up, rubbing at her forehead in an attempt to rid herself of the throbbing. Once her eyes could finally make-out the details of the world around her, she caught sight of the figure standing by the window. Kirika was already awake and dressed in a pink bikini top and a pair of loose white beach shorts, her bare arms showing off a multitude of bracelets that Michiko had never noticed before. Her hair remained down, framing her face as she watched the world outside the window. Sensing the stirring figure from Michiko’s bed, Kirika looked over as she sat up and rubbed the crustiness of sleep out of her eyes. 

“They look like they’re having a fun time out there.” The girl by the window spoke up, gesturing to the outside world with her head. It was the first words the girls had shared since the previous night.

Pulling herself out of bed and onto aching legs, Michiko stepped over to join the other girl at the window, arm shooting out to grab onto the edge of the window as she was overcome with a wave of dizziness. Their room overlooked the outside area of the hotel, the concrete patio broken up by a large swimming pool. A mass of bodies danced both in the pool and out, jumping and shouting to the music blaring through the speakers. Many of them held bottles and cans, drinking greedily from them. Many of them chucked about pool floats and stretched themselves out on deckchairs. 

Kirika let a humourless laugh slip past her lips, “It’s a complete escape from reality.” Her eyes searched Michiko’s face as the other girl watched the scene numbly. She nodded her head to the dresser that stood opposite the beds. “Someone dropped off some clothes for us earlier. I thought it best to let you sleep.” The words swam in Michiko’s ear and went out the other as her head twisted around to find an already ravaged pile of clothes where Kirika said. “Get dressed. Then we should go find some food.”

Michiko wanted to protest leaving the sanctuary of the room, but the grumble of her stomach steered her to the dresser. Rummaging through the items, she found a plain black one piece swimsuit and some khaki green cargo shorts. The items had been slightly pulled to one side of the pile as if left out purposely to catch her attention.

Turning back to Kirika, the other girl sent her a soft smile, and Michiko nodded back in thanks before moving to the bathroom to change. It was there she was hit with a sense of deja vu as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Dried blood splatters painted her face in a canvas of violence, and looking down, she discovered that it was also crusted onto her hands and underneath her fingernails.

Gulping at the sight, her mind was transported to the morning after the four of spades where she washed up in the backroom of that old record store after committing murder the previous night. She looked up into the bathroom mirror, and just like she had seen reflected in the washbasin in that backroom, the same image stared back at her now. An older man who bore the same features as her, a crazed glint in his eye as he grinned back at her in a mockery of a loving stare. A demon incarnate that sat on her shoulder constantly, whispering into her ear to give into the violence in her blood.

She wondered how Kirika could’ve looked at her and not run away in fright.

Michiko drew her eyes away from the mirror and turned on the tap of the sink, taking simple pleasure in the commodity of running water, and began to scrub clean at her hands, face and neck, ridding herself of the evidence of the previous night's game. Trying and failing to wash away the memories of Ichi-

She shook her head, purging the dark thoughts before they could come to fruition. Cautiously looking back into the mirror, her own reflection stared back at her this time, and she heaved in a deep breath, shakily exhaling. Trembling hands lifted to the side of her head, where her hair had stuck to the side of her face, encrusted within the blood from the wound Niragi’s assault had caused. She winced sharply as her fingers hesitantly touched the tender flesh, sending sharp jolts of pain through her nerves. Attempting to stifle the shaking of her hands, she wetted her hair and brushed her hand, slowly picking it away from the skin. She washed around the wound with a towel, making a note to find some medical supplies to deal with the cut properly.

She allowed herself a moment to collect herself, to banish the images and the demon inside her head before they overtook her muddled brain. Drying her face and brushing her fingers through the tangles in her hair, she changed into the fresh set of clothes Kirika had laid out for her.. 

Exiting the bathroom, Michiko was instantaneously swept up by Kirika, the other girl grabbing her wrist and pulling her out the door before she had the chance to protest. She didn’t even have the time to grab her hoodie, and she walked down the hallways feeling exposed with her arms bare. Kirika’s face kept a jovial smile, greeting everyone they passed in the corridor. Looking at the grin that ran across her lips, Michiko wondered how the other girl could be so bright after what had transpired the previous night, when Michiko herself was spiraling into a dark pit she couldn’t crawl out of. It was almost as if Kirika had flipped a switch overnight, putting on a spirited mask. 

But even when they first met, Kirika had always had a cheerful persona. One that Michiko couldn’t understand at all. It seemed as though the games hadn’t broken her yet. Perhaps Michiko had underestimated her during that first week, thinking that the games would tear apart that optimism. Maybe she was stronger than she initially portrayed. A sudden sliver of envy crept into Michiko’s head, wishing she could have the same view of the world that the other girl did.

She was brought out of her musings by sharp voices carrying over to them from around the corner. It was a voice that Michiko wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. The taunting tone of a man who was afforded far too much control over others. “You gonna crawl back into your cave, Arata? Where’s all that bravery you just a moment ago huh?” Arata? That was a familiar name.

The two girls peeked around the corner, neither wanting to reveal their presence, and watched the pitiful scene in front of them. The man from the night before, Niragi, the same one that had killed Ichida, was flanked by another three men. All of them had guns tucked away on their person, and the ringleader flaunted his rifle casually in the open upon his shoulder. The group had a figure cornered up against the wall, and although they were the same height, the bowed head of the familiar man gave the impression that Niragi towered over him, casting a predatorial shadow. 

The cowering figure had brown hair that hung towards his eyes, and thin framed glasses. It was a face Michiko recognised from her first two nights in this world. Arata.

Niragi ducked down, smirking in Arata’s face, and flicked his glasses off the bridge of his nose. Arata’s hands reflexively scrambled to catch them, but Niragi smacked them away, allowing the glasses to fall to the floor. His next act was crushing them underneath his boot, the glass in the frames cracking from the pressure. 

Arata gulped, before Niragi’s finger grasped firmly at his jaw and shoved his head back into the wall, causing Kirika to gasp. Michiko's eyes narrowed into a glower at the display. Her nerves were already prickling up, stirring in rage upon seeing the man again, and seeing him bully Arata was hitting the nail on the coffin. 

A silent presence fell in place behind Michiko, her current sensitivity to her surroundings picking up the shadow that fell over the two girls. Glancing behind her, she caught sight of Chishiya, dressed in a clean white hoodie and a pair of black and white swim trunks, stood in place behind them, watching the scene with mild interest. His hood was pulled up over damp blonde hair.

Niragi, after forcing Arata to face him, smirked, “You’re friends aren’t here to save you anymore you pest. I don’t want to see that attitude again or you’re dead, got it?” Meekly, Arata nodded, and Niragi laughed at the display of submission, “Ah, you’re so pathetic, why do I waste my time-”

“Niragi!” A commanding voice called from down the other end of the hallway called out. Hatter, with his patterned robe billowing behind him, flanked by a couple of his loyal followers, strode down the hallway towards the scene. His expression held disdain as he looked upon what was occurring. He pulled his sunglasses away from his eyes and turned them towards Arata. 

“Everything okay here Arata?” He questioned expectantly, looking the younger man up and down, searching for any visible signs of distress on his person. 

Arata nodded back, nervous eyes not quite meeting Hatter’s gaze. Michiko noticed his jaw clench slightly under the man’s scrutinizing gaze. He gulped, hiding the momentary twitch before nodding and looking up. “Everything’s fine.” 

Hatter patted the younger man’s cheek, a display that was almost affectionate, before turning his focus to Niragi, who stood casually, hands in pockets, whistling nonchalantly as if he were doing no wrong. “How many times have I told you to stop tormenting the poor boy. Arata here is far too important to the Beach. I don’t need you scaring him off.” Niragi tutted and mumbled something that wasn’t quite audible. “What was that?”

“I said, you aren’t my boss.” Niragi spat back, leveling Hatter with a defiant glare. 

Hatter huffed an unamused laugh, before an assertive gaze settled in his eyes as he looked at the younger man. “And who is your boss’s boss?” He questioned. Niragi kept up his stare, before letting his resolve break with a click of his tongue, turning his gaze away from Hatter. 

He nodded his head at his entourage and strode away from the Beach’s Number One, right towards where Michiko and her companions watched on. When his eyes caught them watching, he smirked down at the two teenage girls, “enjoying the show, little mice.” Michiko’s skin prickled under his taunting tone and she refused to meet his gaze, feeling the boiling anger creeping into her veins. 

Kirika had looked away immediately upon meeting his gaze, causing his smirk to grow wider. The man’s eyes then flickered up to Chishiya, who returned his gaze with his ever-present provoking smirk, refusing to back down from Niragi’s challenging stare. Niragi let out a seething breath at Chishiya’s defiance, before stalking off, followed by his minions. As they passed, one in particular eyed Kirika up and down slowly, the other girl placing her bracelet covered arm around her stomach and gulping anxiously. The man sent her a lecherous smirk before sauntering off after his buddies. Michiko watched them go out of the corner of her eye, following the back of Niragi’s figure with a scowl, blood burning in her veins at the mere sight of him. 

It was then that Hatter’s attention turned to the three newcomers, arms spreading out wide upon seeing them watching from around the corner. “Ah, my friends, you’re awake. Sorry you had to see that, Niragi can be quite the difficult guy. But not to worry, we have him under enough control.” Michiko heavily doubted that statement. It already looked like Niragi paraded around the place doing whatever he liked. He defied the Beach’s rule out in the open, apparently refusing to wear anything resembling swimwear, still dressed in the black and white spotted shirt and skinny jeans. And he willingly challenged Hatter’s orders. There was no controlling a force like that. 

Hatter clapped a hand onto Arata’s shoulder after the other man stood back up from picking his glasses up from the floor. The younger man jolted out of studying the damage, looking up in their direction, squinting slightly as if trying to discern their features. A glimpse of recognition sparked in his eyes upon seeing Michiko and Chishiya. “This young lad is Arata. He’s essential to running this operation. Arata my boy, why don’t you show our newcomers around. Normally I would do so, but I have things I need to discuss with Aguni. After that, have the rest of the day off,” He looked down at the crumpled glasses in Arata’s hand, “find yourself some new glasses. But I’ll need you back for tonight’s games if that alright?”

Arata nodded at Hatter’s instructions, fixing his broken glasses back onto his face. Both lenses were cracked beyond repair, but it seemed he resigned himself to deal with it for the time being if it meant he could still somewhat see. “Yes Hatter.” He responded to the older man.

“Good lad.” Hatter patted Arata’s shoulder before continuing his journey down the hallway, past the trio. “Enjoy your stay here you three. Don’t get into too much trouble now.” He winked down at the two teenagers before throwing his sunglasses back onto his face and whistling away. He turned down the corner out of sight, followed by his loyal guards, the jovial tune of his whistling fading away. 

Timidly, Arata stepped forward, greeting the three newcomers with a nervous smile. “You made it. I thought you would” He directed the statement to Michiko, the girl nodding once in reply. “And- and your friend from the spades game? The police officer.”

Michiko’s expression fell at his question, the tidal wave of grief threatening to pull her under once again. “He didn’t make it.” She murmured, pulling her eyes away from Arata.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” Arata’s smile dropped, apology taking on a certain level of understanding. After all, the older man had also lost someone precious to him in the games. If there was anyone that could understand what Michiko was currently going through, it was him. 

Upon remembering Hajime, Michiko then recalled that Arata had another friend that she had met in the Pandora’s Box game. Awkwardly trying to keep the stilted conversation going, Michiko spoke up again, “And your other friend? From the pandora’s box game?” Arata’s face fell in much the same way Michiko’s had a moment before, and Arata didn’t even have to say anything for Michiko to know what fate had befallen the girl, “I’m… sorry too.” 

Shaking his head Arata forced a stunted smile back onto his face, “It’s fine. All we can do is move on and survive for them right?” Despite his smile, Michiko could glimpse through the facade. Arata wore his grief on his sleeve, despite his best efforts to hide it. His eyes could not lie. They were hollow, like hers. He was trying to convince himself with his own words as much as he was attempting to convince them .

Chishiya interrupted the moment, his level voice cutting through the glum atmosphere. “Are we having this tour then?” He looked at Arata with raised eyebrows, studying the other man with careful eyes. “I for one would like to know more about this place.”

Arata met his gaze, shrinking slightly under Chishiya’s calculating expression. “I- I see you also made it.” Arata stuttered out under the intimidating pressure Chishiya naturally casted. 

“I did.” Chishiya said, as if it was such an obvious fact that he would survive until this point.

Nodding, Arata gulped, before leading the trio down the hall. He explained the Beach in more detail to them, how it was a utopia built by Hatter and his close associates where survivors of the games could gather together. At the Beach they could live their lives to the fullest, escaping the threat of the games for momentary bliss. 

Hatter created such a hype around the idea of collecting the cards to get back home, how the Beach could only run if they worked together to achieve the impossible. A way out of this world of death and suffering. He fueled this hope into the survivors, and they followed his word blindly.

It was beginning to sound more and more like a cult to Michiko. A cult built in an apocalyptic world, Michiko thought to herself, how original .

Leading them down various hallways, Arata showed them the important places to note, like where to get food and where the infirmary was. When he showed them the room that had been designated as the infirmary, Chishiya’s interest lit up slightly, an miniscule shift in expression that didn’t go unnoticed by Michiko. The blonde glanced around the ward, taking note of all the available supplies and the set up before they moved on.

Arata took them out by the pool, where the partying was still in full swing, bodies dancing to the loud music, jumping in the water. There was a gleeful atmosphere that seemed so artificial to Michiko. She hated it. The music caused her head to pound sharply, and Arata ushered them along quickly at her reaction.

It seemed like Arata himself wasn’t enamoured by all the merriment either. He brought them by a lounge in the hotel that had been converted into a nightclub, more bodies dancing away to blaring electronic music. Even from the entryway Michiko could feel the heat emanating from the packed together bodies. She caught sight of near naked limbs entwined around each other in a dark corner and averted her gaze, embarrassed heat rising to her cheeks. She would be avoiding this part of the hotel at all costs. It seemed that Kirika and Chishiya held the same sentiments, the other girl going sickly pale at the sight and the man looked upon the scene with the same unbothered expression he held most of the time.

Once the tour was over, Michiko and Kirika found themselves back in their shared room, a mountain of snacks piled between them as they sat on Michiko’s bed. Chishiya had disappeared further down the hall with Arata still at his side, asking the other man more questions. As soon as they had stepped back into the room, Michiko grabbed her hoodie and quickly threw it on over the black swimsuit, bloodstains be damned. It’s just coffee , she deluded herself. She gulped anxiously everytime she caught sight of the stains. But the hoodie was the same one Ichida had found for her days ago. She was reluctant to be rid of.

“I don’t like this place.” Michiko broke the silence between them. 

Kirika looked at her through her fringe, melon bread halfway in her mouth. She bit into the food and swallowed, before speaking. “I don’t either. But it has some stability. At least we have access to food and shelter, a comfortable place to sleep. Maybe we can even make some friends.” The other girl shrugged with a glimpse of longing in her eyes. Michiko stared back at her incredulously at the statement. “What?” Kirika questioned.

“We don’t even know if we can trust anyone here.” I don’t even know if I can trust you still, was what went unsaid. But each day they spent together, Michiko found it harder and harder to place any distrust onto Kirika. They had survived near death together, and Michiko had saved the other girl’s life. That was the sort of bond that couldn’t be ignored.

“What about that Arata guy?” Kirika threw back, “You seemed to know him.”

“We played a couple of games together. His friend got killed right in front of me.” Michiko stated dryly, eyes glazing over at the memory of Hajime’s head being caved in right in front of her face. Of the warm blood spraying on her skin.

Once again, Kirika paused in her eating upon hearing those words. She looked thoroughly like she had lost her appetite in mere seconds upon the reminder of the true nature of the world. “Ah.” Michiko had begun to get the sense that Kirika was the type of girl to ignore all of the bad things around her, to delude herself into believing a different story of her current life. 

Seeing the hesitation she’d brought out in the other girl, Michiko switched the subject, “Anyway, we should try and find out more about this place.” She reasoned, “Hatter sells this place as a paradise, but judging from earlier, there’s clearly tensions building here. Where there’s tension, there’s conflict. We need to know who to avoid and who can be useful to have on our side. You’re right about Arata being a good starting point. He seems to be close to Hatter.” 

“Definitely want to avoid that Niragi guy.” Kirika shuddered at her own mention of the dangerous rifle-wielding maniac that stalked the halls of the Beach. The very same one that had shot Ichida the night before. Upon hearing his name uttered from Kirika’s lips, Michiko’s expression hardened and her blood boiled beneath her skin. Her nerves flared up and sparked with rage at the thought of his smirking face. Kirika gulped upon seeing the venomous look behind Michiko’s eyes, “I don’t like that face you're making.”

Michiko’s eyes flickered to Kirika, all of her anger held within her gaze. Behind that gaze was a storm waiting to be unleashed. “He’s gonna pay for what he did.”

“Michiko, don’t be stupid.” Kirika’s hand shot and grabbed her wrist, attempting to pull her back to a reality where Michiko’s quest for vengeance was a futile endeavor, “Did you see that big gun he carries around? You’re not gonna be able to get close to him.”

“Then I’ll just have to be clever.” She could be clever. She had figured out the Heart’s game. She mostly figured out the Subway Escape game. She aided in figuring out a Diamonds game.  Michiko can find a way to work around Niragi’s defenses and get payback for what he did to Ichida. She could see his tormenting figure as he towered over Ichida’s body, slumped against a wall bleeding out. He had made light of murdering the closest person Michiko ever had to a loving father. She resented Niragi for ripping away what could’ve been, what Michiko had begun to hope for. Ichida had become her light in the dark. Niragi had taken it all away. 

Kirika sighed sadly, gazing at the side of Michiko’s face as the girl stewed in her fury, “is this what he’d want?” She questioned softly.

Michiko’s eyes snapped to her, her resentment taking root and festering in her body, latching onto her soul like a parasite. “It’s what I want.”

♤♡◇♧

The very next day, Michiko once again found herself wandering the empty streets of Tokyo. With the absence of the bustling metropolis of people, the city had begun to be overtaken by nature. Short stems of grass and weeds were starting to emerge in the cracks of the concrete. Animals were roaming the streets that had once belonged to humanity, reclaiming the city as their habitat. From one end of the street, Michiko observed a young doe feeding at the shallow grass silently. She hardly moved a muscle, not wanting to disturb it. She wanted to let it have peace for a little longer before inevitably scaring it away.

Stepping back, Michiko was about to turn away, to let it continue to roam freely without disturbance, when the deer's head snapped up, and Michiko felt its curious eyes bore into her own. For a second, they held each other’s gaze, Michiko recognising someone else in the doe’s innocent gaze,  before a crack struck through the silent city. The doe, with a hole shot through its flank, crumpled to the ground, twitching as it bled out. Michiko breathed out, twisting round to face whoever took the shot.

Behind her, a man sauntered to her side, the offending rifle that had killed the deer resting casually up against his shoulder, barrel still smoking. Dark hair was pulled half up in a bun, with a couple of strands, damp with sweat, framing his face. There was a self-satisfied grin at his lips, and Michiko glowered upon seeing the sight.

The man stopped beside her, eyes taking in the harsh glare on her face. He grinned down at her. “What? Sad that I killed the cute deer?” Michiko didn’t dignify him with a reply, instead, she simply held her glare in place, refusing to crack under the pressure of his taunting gaze. “Aw, did it remind you of your dead friend?” He stepped away with a laugh and an abrasive ruffle of her hair that Michiko flinched away from. Niragi continued towards the deer, ordering a couple of the other militants to round up the carcass.

As they were busy, Michiko glared venomously at Niragi’s back, eyes watching his easy going posture and actions with a heavy resentment. The heat of the sun beat down on her back, seeping through her clothes, adding to the boiling rage underneath. Her hands twitched in her pockets as she watched Niragi go about his business. Her thumb rubbed at her mother’s ring in an attempt to ground herself from her building anger. 

Here, she solidified her goal. Niragi should count his days because one day, Michiko was going to take whatever opportunity the world threw at her to carry out her vengeance. Niragi would pay for killing Ichida and stripping Michiko of the possible future she had with the man. Her eyes flickered to the men lifting the doe’s corpse, eyes still wide in shock. For a moment, Michiko saw someone else, someone who had, the day after they met, sent her a dazzling grin as she offered a simple pocky stick. An extended offer of friendship. Niragi would not live long enough to take anything else from her. 

Turning away, she slipped into the streets with a destination in mind.

Behind her, Niragi’s gleeful voice followed her, “Be at the meeting point on time brat, or you’re walking back to the Beach.”

Before she disappeared entirely from view, Michiko flipped him off without looking back, ignoring the angry shouts behind her. 

Niragi didn’t know what was coming for him.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 13

♤♡◇♧

Traveling alone through the silent city stirred the restlessness in Michiko’s thoughts.

It had been two days since the events of the six of hearts. A trip into the city would hopefully quiet her mind. That’s why she had volunteered for the supply run. Had painstakingly endured the short car trip with Niragi slouched in the passenger seat, hoping the heat of her glare reached the back of his head. But instead, as usual, the dead silence stoke the darkest pits of her mind.

Her thoughts lived in the shadows that surrounded her, every shift being the reflection of her father, every hint of green being Ichida’s jacket, every glint of refracted sunlight being her mother’s smile. She desperately wished she had her headphones and a working iPod, so she could drown out the voices of the dead. 

That was the second reason she’d agreed to this trip, it was a chance to collect the supplies she’d lost along the way. Giving herself a mission distracted from the unceasing ache of grief.

It took quite a bit of time for Michiko to locate and reach her first destination. She had to retrieve the one thing that would make it a lot easier for her to get around without having to rely on the Beach’s cars. If she had to spend another five minutes in a confined space with Niragi she was going to snap. Stepping inside the old record store, she eyed the dust on the boxes of vinyls. The gramophone still remained on the table in the corner, records stacked precariously around it. Wrappers littered the floor from the last time she occupied the space a week and a half ago. At least, that’s how long she thought it was. She had lost track of the days already. 

Her heart had a melancholy ache as her eyes roamed the store. In this place, Ichida had watched over her after the four of spades, had looked out for her and found her food and clothes when she was going through her morality crisis. His ghost sat there, smiling softly as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She exhaled heavily, forcefully casting the memories from her mind before they became too painful. 

In the corner behind the gramophone, she caught sight of a familiar object, lighting up at the sight of it. She pulled the board from behind the table, wiping dust off the wheels. The image of the cat sticking up its middle fingers on the back brought a short chuckle out of her. The skateboard was left behind so it wouldn’t get in the way during the games. But now she had a more permanent place to go back to, she figured she could retrieve it. It would make travelling around the city a lot easier during the day, giving her the means of easily escaping the Beach and its mania, if only briefly.

With the board back in her possession, Michiko left behind the ghostly memories the place held, continuing on her way to her second destination. 

Rolling her way through the city on her skateboard, she located the next place quickly enough. The apartment they stayed in the night before the six of hearts. She hesitated in the open doorway, the lingering emotions the room held casting a heavy wave over her. 

They had planned to return to this place to pick up their supplies and rest after the game. Together. All of them, alive and well. Only three of them made it out alive. And only Michiko had decided to return. Kirika hadn’t wanted to come back, resolving to stay at the Beach and scope it out. And Chishiya… was doing whatever it was that he did. Probably looking down upon the rest of the Beach’s residents and scheming.

Upon the sofa, she saw Ichida sitting as she argued with him about entering the games. She had wrongly accused him of being overprotective, and now she knew that he just didn’t want her in danger. He wanted to look out for her because he had come to see her as a daughter. And in response to that protective instinct of his, she had spat out poisonous words back in his face. 

There was the balcony where they reconciled, where he had held her close as she cried, asking how she could be better. She didn’t know if she could ever be better. But standing there, seeing his ghost smiling so gently at her on that balcony, she decided she would at least try. Trying was enough.

Not wanting to linger too long in a place full of difficult memories, she spied the supplies left behind in the apartment that they hadn’t had a chance to pick up after the game. Her backpack remained on the floor by the coffee table. Zipping open the front pocket, she pulled out the folded up photograph. For ease she had gotten rid of the frame not long after leaving Mahiru’s place. Without the frame's protection, the photo had gotten slightly worn and crumpled from being tucked away. But it was still legible, the smiling face of her mother still shining up at her, hopeful and youthful. Michiko had often hoped that she would inherit that side of her mother, and maybe she had when she was young. But circumstances made room for her father’s poison to take root in her soul.

She stared at the arm wrapped around her mother’s figure, glaring at the empty space where the photo folded, hiding the unknown figure from view. Unfolding the picture with shaky hands, she looked down at her father’s grinning face and messy hair, the reminder of who he was before the violence infecting him had taken over. 

Sometimes, when her traitorous mind took over, she liked to imagine the man that her mother had fallen in love with. Enough for her to move from South Korea to Japan for. And sometimes her heart achingly longed for what they could’ve had. A happy, normal life where Michiko studied hard through school and went on to have a lucrative career. Maybe as a doctor or a vet or something of that caliber. And her parents would be so proud of her achievements. 

But the truth was, Michiko didn’t really remember the man before the monster anymore. Because that’s all he became in her head. He was no longer her father, but the monster that murdered her mother.

Folding the image back, putting her father’s face out of her view, she placed the photo back in the pocket. Zipping up the bag, she swung it onto her back.

Before she left, her eyes caught the gaudy pink backpack that Kirika insisted on carrying aroun. The one she held all of her collected snacks in. Grabbing it as well, Michiko hastily exited the apartment, abandoning the ghost’s of her past, both good and bad.

The sun was beginning to set by the time she left. The signal for meeting back at the rendezvous point was when the sun touched the horizon. She didn’t think she could manage another car ride with Niragi and keep her composure. But she still didn’t actually know the Beach’s exact location, and hadn’t kept track of the streets they had passed on the way out. Rookie mistake. So endure she would have to.

♤♡◇♧

“Didn’t think you’d make it in time.” Niragi was leaning against the car, a patronizing grin plastered across his face. Michiko was beginning to get the feeling that the man took pleasure from bullying those he deemed as weak. First it had been Arata yesterday, cowering under his towering intensity. Today he had turned his efforts towards Michiko, which only fuelled the fire of her hatred. 

She said nothing. Only sent a loathsome glare his way before quickly trudging towards the back seat. The older man didn’t appear to appreciate her sentiment, if the large rifle blocking her way as she placed her hand on the door handle said anything. The heat of Niragi’s eyes fell upon the side of her face, and Michiko put all of her efforts into remaining unfazed as the barrel of the gun tucked itself under her chin. Her racing heart sped up as the cool metal made contact.

Michiko’s jaw clenched as Niragi’s breath appeared next to her ear as he hissed, “I’m quickly getting tired of your antics, brat. It was cute at first but now I’m just annoyed.”

She stayed silent, not wanting to poke the bear further. As much as every fiber of her being wished to tug on the rest of Niragi’s patience out of spite, doing so out here where there were no other witnesses other than his militant friends, would only result in a premature death. It was clear as day that Niragi thrived on chaos and fear. He would have no qualms about putting a bullet in her brain.

Dying here without fulfilling her goal of killing him personally would be a waste. 

Channeling her burning anger into something a little less hostile, she let her eyes flicker towards him, forcing her expression to relax into a more apathetic state. He stared back, standing up to full height in a display of dominance. It became a competition. Who would back down first? Who would give up control. 

It had to be her. It made her stomach churn, but she dragged her eyes back to the car door, allowing the action to feed Niragi’s ego further. The gun was removed quickly as a breathy chuckle spilled from his lips. He leaned down to her height again, and she could sense his elated grin. “That’s a little more like it.” When his eyes turned away, the muscles in her neck eased, and she felt like she could breathe easy again. Just before he popped into the passenger's seat, he threw one last comment behind him. “If I ever see that attitude again, you’re dead. Hatter’s orders be damned.”

Then he was shutting the car door behind him. Michiko’s grip on the door handle tightened, knuckles turning white. The rage sizzled underneath her skin with every action Niragi took against her. Each time his face came across her vision, all she saw was him laughing over Ichida’s dying body and the fury struck again. 

She didn’t think she’d be free of it until he was dead. 

Niragi thrived off chaos and fear. His ego spurred him on, knowing he had the power to do as he wished, leaving his imprint on the lives of the people around him. But as ego spread, Niragi was bound to grow comfortable. Too comfortable. He’d get careless, and that’s when she’d strike. 

Yes, she’d just have to be patient. A snake in the grass, waiting for the right moment to spring upon the unsuspecting mouse.

♤♡◇♧

When Michiko got back to the hotel, she swiftly made her way up to her and Kirika’s room, dropping off the stuff she’d collected. When Kirika caught sight of her garish pink backpack, her face lit up with a radiant smile that reached inside Michiko’s soul and pulled out an unfamiliar warmth, her hand going to a side pocket and removing a necklace with a small bird sitting on a branch as its charm. She clutched the small piece of jewellery close to her chest before hanging it around her neck.

The other girl's grin fixed itself on her, and Michiko found herself turning away to avoid the heat the gaze brought out on her cheeks. Without even trying, Kirika seemed to have an effect on Michiko. Her bright as the sun persona, whilst completely contrasting Michiko’s harsher nature, infected everything it touched. It pushed its way past the dark poison in Michiko’s veins. 

Just the previous night, as Michiko once again lay awake, staring into nothing, the only thing helping her hold onto her slipping sanity was focusing on the soft breathing of Kirika as she slept. The quiet sound broke through the silence of the night once the music outside had died off eventually. Focusing on that one tiny thing allowed her to slip into a semi-peaceful sleep herself.

“Thank you.” The other girl murmured softly.

“It’s all good,” Michiko shrugged, attempting to dismiss the uneasy fluttering of her stomach. She wasn’t used to people being so… genuine around her. Part of her wanted to doubt it, just as she had once doubted Ichida’s honesty. But another traitorous part of her wanted to believe in Kirika’s smile.

Fighting against the conflict inside her mind, she reminded Kirika that they had places to be. 

Hatter had been kind enough to give them a night’s rest, however he had plans for them that night. The older man, impressed by the cards they had brought in, wanted to put their lives back on the line to ‘test their abilities’. Each of them would be entering the games that night, alongside one of Hatter’s closest circle. The only job of those who would accompany them would be to observe them as they played. Only if they absolutely needed to would they interfere. 

Michiko’s group would be separated so they could get a handle on their individual talents. Chishiya, she had no worries about. The man had proved many times before that he could handle himself. He had folded back into his solitude during their couple of days at the Beach, the only time she’d laid eyes on him being Arata’s tour the other day. 

On the other hand, Kirika hadn’t yet played a game by herself. Neither had Michiko technically, but she had been able to adapt to the world quickly enough. As far as she could tell, Kirika still hadn’t accepted their reality. Who else could still smile after everything they had been through?

She  didn’t want to admit it, but she was worried for the other girl. Michiko didn’t want her to die for her inexperience in how brutal the games could be. A simple mistake could cost a life. As much as she struggled internally with the idea of Kirika facing the games alone, she would just have to put her faith in the other girl making it out alive. She couldn’t afford to be unfocused for her own game, she would only be putting herself at risk that way.

It sounded callous, but she needed to think of herself for the time being.

The two girls found their way to the hotel's reception lounge, having just missed Hatter’s nightly speech to inspire the Beach’s residents. The lobby was packed with people standing shoulder to shoulder like sardines, eagerly awaiting the games in a state of morbid fascination. She had to wonder just how far Hatter’s charisma and charm stretched, that he was able to have these mindless slaves so hungry to join the games. To possibly die. No one would ever find her being swayed so easily, and if they did, she’d request that they kill her immediately. 

As she scanned the crowd, Michiko caught sight of a familiar blonde-haired man. Standing against a pillar with his arms crossed, Chishiya was a vision of clinical observance, calculating eyes roaming the people milling about. Electrified chatter about that night’s games decorated  the lobby with noise as the girls weaved their way through the mass of bodies. Chishiya’s gaze turned to them as they approached, fixing Michiko with a condescending smirk as he greeted them, “Tolerate Niragi long enough to get what you needed?”

Michiko huffed at his question, before replying in a sour tone, “Took all of my restraint not to launch at him from the backseat.”

An amused tone laced Chishiya’s voice, “I’m sure you’ll get your chance for revenge some day.”

Michiko didn’t doubt it. In the real world, for his actions Niragi would’ve been dragged before a judge and faced with sentencing. If Michiko had been present in the court she might’ve found herself praying for life imprisonment or, just as she seeks his demise now, the death penalty. She would’ve rejoiced as the judge passed it, eager to see Niragi suffer the consequences of his furore. 

But this world was without rules or law. And in this place, abandoned of all morals, she would have to seek her own justice. Sometimes, to find justice, you had to take it for yourself. She remembered reading that in a book somewhere. 

Tilting her head, she appraised Chishiya, “Oh, you can count on it.”

“I’m sure you’ll terrify him.” She knew he was teasing, but Michiko was wholeheartedly serious about this matter. One day, Niragi would be dead, and by her hand.

Moving on to other matters, Michiko glanced around, ensuring no one was listening in, and lowered her voice, “Did you find out anything the last couple of days?” 

The man hummed, removing his gaze from her to casually travel around the room, “Why should I share anything I’ve learned with you?”

Michiko didn’t miss the heated glare that Kirika sent the man’s way. Clearly she didn’t appreciate his deflecting. Neither did Michiko. “Because I was the one that gave you the information about the suits and told you about the beach,” She said dryly. 

With an amused smirk, the man turned back to her, glancing down at her with a raised eyebrow, considering what she said. “Well played,” He nodded, stance remaining casual as he pushed away from the pillar, unfolding his arms and placing his hands in his pockets, “I managed to get more information out of Arata. The Beach is run by two separate factions. There are those that are loyal to Hatter, and then the faction of militants led by Aguni, the other guy from the hearts game.” Michiko nodded along to everything he said, soaking all the information like a sponge. “He didn’t explicitly say it but there’s tension between the two factions that they try to hide from the majority of the Beach’s residents.”

“Exactly what kind of tension?” Kirika piped up, and Chishiya glanced at her offhandedly, as if she was of less importance than the bug beneath his shoe.

 He continued on, ignoring her question, “There are ten members of the Beach, including Hatter, that practically run this place, numbers one through ten. They call them the executives . This includes Aguni and Niragi. It’s these people who will be testing us tonight.”

“Whose great idea was it to give Niragi that kind of power? That seems like a disaster waiting to happen.” Michiko huffed, her face scrunching up in disgust at the thought of the man having any form of influence that could be taken advantage of.

Chishiya’s eyes flickered behind her, before he spoke up again, “Well, I wouldn’t say anything more about your petty grudge. I believe we’re about to be whisked away to our potential doom.”

The two girls turned, following his gaze to see the group, consisting of both familiar and unfamiliar faces, striding towards them through the throngs of people. The recognisable ones were Arata, Aguni and much to Michiko’s burning dismay, Niragi. Automatically, her jaw hardened at the sight of him, the churning hatred inside her gut welling up and prickling at her nerves. The man sent her a provoking smirk as he caught her fiery gaze. Remembering his threat earlier that day, she dragged her eyes away to appraise the rest of the crowd. 

Behind him was a woman dressed in a black sarong style skirt and cropped top. Jet black hair fell like a waterfall past her shoulders in a blunt Hime cut. Under her direct, almost delighted gaze, Michiko found herself quivering slightly. The woman’s dark eyes sparkled with an excitement Michiko couldn’t explain, and it unnerved her deeply. There was a profound edge of understanding underneath the woman’s smile that she couldn’t quite place. Her wariness rose, sending the hair on her arms standing on end. 

Next to Arata stood a much older man, about late thirties or early forties if Michiko could guess. Like Arata, he wore narrow framed glasses, and the two men could’ve perhaps been siblings. He wore a dark blue polo shirt and swimming trunks. A stern gaze glanced over the three of them, analyzing their figures. 

The final figure stood close by Aguni’s side, shoulders hunched and his frame almost pulling into the man’s stocky frame for protection. The boy looked to be around the same age as her and Kirika, shaggy hair falling into his eyes. There was a slight attempt of a reassuring smile on his face as he took them in. As his gaze caught Michiko’s eye, quickly averted it nervously, his cheeks darkening.

It was the older bespectacled male that spoke up, directing his gaze towards the blonde haired man standing beside Michiko, “Chishiya, correct?” The blonde simply nodded, “I’m Kuzuryuu, the Beach’s number two. You’re with Arata and I tonight.” Chishiya’s gaze snapped to the man in question, catching his anxious demeanor and his lips tilting in a satisfied smirk. Michiko had to wonder if there were deeper intentions behind that expression.

“All good with me,” Chishiya tilted his head, watching as the two other men started walking past the rest of the group, the blonde man drifting to take his place behind them, sending a patronizing  glance back to Michiko before he disappeared, “Try not to die.”

A deep voice interrupted them, coming from the stocky figure of Aguni, the man levelling his intense stare on Kirika. “You, girl.” He addressed her gruffly. Kirika's eyes widened like a doe, and she gulped under the man’s intimidating existence. “You’re with us.” He gestured his head to the boy beside him, who sent a kind smile in Kirika’s direction.

The boy stepped forward, sticking out his hand towards Kirika. “I’m Hamada Tsuyoshi.” He introduced. 

A little of the tension in Kirika’s shoulders melted under his soothing gaze, and the girl smiled back. The boy's more gentle demeanor had succeeded in putting her at ease. A voice in the back of Michiko’s mind had to wonder if the boy’s attempts of comfort were genuine. She watched intently as Kirika grasped his hand, giving it a small shake. “Endo Kirika.” The other girl replied. Michiko’s intensity turned itself on the boy, who met her harsh eye and gulped. 

Aguni interrupted the tension with a solid command, “Let’s get going ‘Yoshi.” The older man strided away, the younger boy eagerly scrambling to keep up, following behind the man like a puppy clambering to keep up with its mother. Kirika trailed close behind, stopping only to give Michiko’s hand a soft squeeze, sending her a silent message of We’ll see each other later . Michiko squeezed back, nodding.

With that, she was off, and Michiko was left alone with the final two. Upon realising who remained, her face instantly shifted back into a scowl. She turned back around, catching the edge of Niragi’s satisfied smirk as he stared down at her. “Looks like you’re with us, little mouse,” The man taunted. 

Michiko grit her teeth as the man began moving, placing his rifle on his shoulder in a practiced movement, striding past her. The woman who stood with them stayed silent, following along behind. She sent Michiko a smile that was all-knowing, like she could see  exactly what lay under her skin. The girl decided very quickly that she hated that smile.

The woman waited for her to fall into step beside them, before the three headed off to the waiting cars.

♤♡◇♧

Kano Mira was an enigma. A woman who spoke almost prophetically, with dark, mischievous eyes that held the entire universe in them. “ I was informed that it was you who found the solution to the Hearts game you partook in,” Her voice was soft, taking on a tone that was almost comforting as they made the journey to the game arena. 

Niragi was in the driver’s seat, Mira in the passenger, all-seeing eyes continuously glancing at her through the mirror. Michiko had been delegated to the back, her leg bouncing anxiously as she glared at the back of Niragi’s head the entire car ride. One car ride in close proximity had been too much and two had tested her patience. A third was inducing the rage inside of her once more. Ichida’s ghost whispered in the back of her mind, demanding justice. Part of her knew it wasn’t really him, the police officer wouldn’t want her sullying her hands like that. The voice was merely a manifestation of her own rage and need.

Michiko’s eyes dropped when she finally dragged them from the back of Niragi’s head, meeting Mira’s gaze and registering the question. The memories of her last game two days ago surged to the forefront of her mind like a waking nightmare. She quickly shook them from her head, before responding quietly, “Maybe.” She shrugged, “far too late for it to matter.” She muttered the last part.

Her scowling gaze returned to the back of Niragi’s head, and the man caught her gaze through the rearview mirror, his lips pursed as if holding back laughter. She despised the fact that he found sheer amusement in murdering one of the most important people in her life. She despised him .

“We don’t get many potential heart specialists coming through the Beach, which is why I wanted to see you in action myself,” Mira continued, and Michiko switched her gaze back to the woman through the mirror. Mira’s dark eyes were fixed on her, studying her reflection with an intrigued stare. It unnerved Michiko, both the stare and the knowing smile. She didn’t trust this woman one bit, if the goosebumps on her arm were telling her anything.

But her words fed a curiosity in Michiko’s mind. “Heart specialists?” She questioned.

Mira’s grin grew bigger. “That’s right. The residents of the Beach are categorised by the type of game they excel most in,” Her eyes turned away from the mirror as she continued her explanation, “That way we can build well rounded teams to enter the games. If there are many different specialists, teams have a greater chance of success in completing whatever type of game they enter. We believe your friend Chishiya may excel in diamonds games. Your other friend we aren't quite sure yet. But you,” She fixed her smile onto Michiko again, and the gesture sent a nervous wave rolling through her, “You might be a hearts specialist, which is very special and very rare. Those who can excel in hearts games are very valued at the Beach, so if you succeed, you’ll have quite a significant place. Perhaps you’ll be placed quite high up in the queue.”

Not wanting to hold the woman’s daunting stare anymore, Michiko averted her gaze back to the cityscape passing by out the window, before the words fully dawned on her. She lifted her head back up, brow furrowed, “So, we’re playing another hearts game?” 

Mira nodded, her delighted grin still on her face, the size of it almost spilling into a giggle, “Indeed we are.” 

Michiko shook her head, “But… how can you know that it’s a hearts game when we don’t know what game it is until registration’s over.”

The older woman smirked knowingly, “We’ve been watching potential game venues. Sometimes they reappear each night until they're completed, unless they’re destroyed at the end of the game.” She explained, “We have good reason to believe this particular one we’re going to is a hearts game. We’ve been watching it for some time and none of our people have come back from it, and no one’s been able to complete it yet.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Niragi’s voice cutting through the space in the car, “We’re here.”

The car shuddered to a stop, Niragi and Mira immediately exiting, the man grabbing his gun from the dashboard. Looking out the window, Michiko examined the game venue. From what she could make out, it was an office building, the sign above the door reading ‘NAKAMURA LEGAL LTD.’. The building was the only one on the street with its lights on, the five floors all lit up like a beacon. Breathing in deeply, Michiko exited the backseat of the car, staring up at the building as Mira and Niragi joined behind her. 

Stumbling as a strong hand pushed her forward, Michiko whipped around to send the culprit a scathing glare. Niragi whistled innocently, “What?”

Mira sent the man a demure smile, but underneath it was a flash of something poisonous, “Let’s not antagonise the girl too much Niragi, Hatter has high hopes for her. We would like her to make it out of this alive as best she can.”

“Fine.” Niragi huffed, stepping past Michiko, bumping her shoulder aggressively. Michiko scowled at the back of his black and white patterned shirt as he turned to them upon reaching the door. “Are you two going to get a move on anytime tonight?”

Mira gracefully slid past her, Michiko scurrying quickly behind. The trio entered the reception of the building, ignoring the other participants milling around and heading straight to the desk on the back wall where the phone’s were laid out. Only, there was something different this time around.

Alongside the phones, there was a table laid out with numerous metal collars, like a morbid display of necklaces. A sign sat next to the accessories, reading ‘Please wear ’. Neither Niragi or Mira seemed to be strangers to this occurrence, putting on the collars in practiced motions. In an effort to not appear startled by the new element, she followed their example.

When the process was complete and they were officially registered for the game, the three stepped back into their own space, Michiko’s blood simmering at Niragi’s close presence behind her.

She surveyed the crowd, a habit picked up out of necessity when you didn’t know who could be your friend or your enemy. And at the current moment, everyone was an enemy. That included the two behind her. The crows displayed its usual mix of confident masks and nervous, flickering eyes. 

If it was indeed as Mira had said, and this was a hearts game they were preparing for, Michiko didn’t surmise any of the other participants to be threats. None of them could meet her gaze apart from the stocky man who stood by himself in the corner. And if they did, it was soon averted. It seemed that her naturally harsh gaze repelled those who couldn’t match that energy. 

Most of the other participants eyed Niragi’s rifle warily as he stood behind her, his predatorial shadow casting heavily over the entire space. Thick tension lived inside the silence, an atmosphere she was becoming far too familiar with.

It was while they existed in that rife tension that a familiar voice interrupted the silence, “Michiko?”

A pit opened up in the teenager’s stomach, full of dread. Her hackles raised as her eyes trained on the figure the voice came from. A tall woman, long hair tied up in a ponytail, dressed suitably for the games in jeans and a jumper that had many worn holes in it. Her face was marred with splotches of dirt, weary and fatigued eyes mirroring the exhaustion that was evident on her own face.

Staring at the woman in disbelief, Michiko laughed skeptically, “Mahiru?”

Before whatever semblance of twisted reunion could take place between the two estranged souls, tearful on Mahiru’s part judging by the water welling up in her eyes, the automated voice chimed in from the phones, silencing everyone as their eyes went to the screens.

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED

THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE

GAME: TRUTH OR DARE

DIFFICULTY: FOUR OF HEARTS

So the Beach’s investigation of the arena was right. It was a hearts game. Michiko was about to be thrust back into a pit of desperation and betrayal as the game infected their minds and preyed on their weakness. She glanced up at Mahiru, her presence there instantly troubling her, considering the nature of hearts games. The thought sent shivers down Michiko’s spine.

She turned her attention back to listening to the rules. 

RULE

PARTICIPANTS WILL PLAY THREE ROUNDS OF TRUTH OR DARE

AT THE START OF EACH ROUND, THE GAME WILL PRESENT THE PLAYERS WITH TWO OPTIONS

A TRUTH TO REVEAL, OR A DARE TO CARRY OUT

THESE OPTIONS WILL BE TAILORED TO EACH INDIVIDUAL PLAYER

EACH ROUND WILL LAST FOR AN HOUR, WITHIN THAT TIME YOU MUST HAVE REVEALED YOUR TRUTH OR CARRIED OUT YOUR DARE

FAILURE TO DO SO WILL MEAN GAME OVER

THE COLLARS HAVE A BUILT IN LIE DETECTOR, SO IT WILL KNOW IF YOU ANSWER YOUR TRUTH WITH A LIE

IF A PLAYER LIES, IT WILL RESULT IN AN INSTANT GAME OVER FOR THAT PLAYER

NO OTHER RULES

Miciko knew what that meant. Violence and weapons were permitted to be used. To carry out dares, most likely. She heard Niragi chuckle behind her, cocking his rifle threateningly, causing some of the other figures in the room to flinch at the sudden noise. 

YOU MAY USE THE WHOLE BUILDING AS YOU WISH

CLEAR CONDITION

SURVIVE ALL THREE ROUNDS

Then the voice chimed out a sinister question.

HOW FAR ARE YOU WILLING TO GO TO HIDE YOUR SECRETS?

GAME START

A timer appeared on the screen, beginning the agonisingly slow countdown for the first hour. Michiko’s eyes lowered to the text that suddenly appeared on the screen, her head tilting in confusion.

TRUTH: TELL THE GROUP THE NAME OF YOUR FAVOURITE BOOK

DARE:  KEEP YOUR EYES CLOSED FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE ROUND (THE BEGINNING OF THIS DARE WILL BE COUNTED AFTER KEEPING EYES SHUT FOR LONGER THAN TEN SECONDS. YOU ARE SAFE TO BLINK.)

The options were extremely stupid in Michiko’s mind. Keep her eyes closed until the end of the round? An hour spent with her eyes closed, allowing her to leave herself vulnerable to any players with nefarious intentions. The option was extremely unappealing. On the other hand there was the minor embarrassment of letting that group of strangers know that her favourite book was a children's book, no matter the sentimental value that it held for her. It was the easier option.

Although, thinking it through, she could always wait until the timer almost hit zero. That would count right? She could wait until the timer reached ten seconds and then close her eyes. Maybe she would say fifteen to be safe. As long as the time-period was longer than ten seconds it would be fine. She could wait out the hour, and then leave it till the last minute. 

Or draw attention to herself by speaking up to the group.

She looked up from her phone to observe the other participants. There were about nine of them, including herself, her companions and Mahiru. The majority of them were also glancing down at their phones with eyes sparkling in confusion, the dead silence of the room punctuated by skeptical murmurs. 

“Can’t be this easy.” One said.

“There’s gotta be a catch.” Another.

From next to her, Mira smiled at her phone delightedly, before her eyes flickered from her phone, eyeing the rest of the group with wistful curiosity. “As long as we’re all honest with each other, the game should be easy.”

Mahiru, from her other side, relaxed, being put at ease by Mira’s tranquil expression. “She’s right,” The woman addressed the group, “We’ll survive this game by being honest with each other. No hiding secrets, no matter what the game brings up. As long as we’re all willing to reveal our truths the game should be easy enough and we’ll all make it out alive.”

There were nods of agreement around the group, and a man from the other side voiced his agreement, “Well if the truth questions are all as easy as this, then the game should be easy right?”

The cacophony of muttering that followed the statement all expressed a consensus to the plan. Behind her, Niragi’s doubtful bordered on a chuckle, and the hair of the back of her neck rose upon the reminder of the figure shadowing her. She bristled under his withering presence, shoulders tightening.

Hearing his expression of skepticism, Michiko had her own doubts. She loathed agreeing with Niragi’s derision. This was a hearts game for a reason. There was no way the truths and the dares would stay this easy. And based on the first question she was given, she had an ache in the back of her mind that told her these questions would soon become extremely personal to each individual. She dreaded to see what would be brought up. She dreaded to think just how far the people around her would go to keep those things hidden. 

That pit of dread widened exponentially as she wondered just how far she would go to hide whatever the game wanted her to reveal. Shame was an inherent part of human nature, and many people would go to great lengths for that shame to remain under the surface.

Only time would tell. 

For the rest of the game she would have to remain on guard and keep any targets off her back. As long as she did that, she should survive this easily enough. It was a low level game, as long as all of the other players remained logical, they should all survive it.

“I’ll go first,” Mira kept her easy smile plastered on her face, “In the old world, I was a psychologist.”

So she had to reveal her job? That seemed like a similarly easy enough question to answer as Michiko’s. This game was seemingly trying to lull them into a false sense of security. Michiko hoped the others realised that. 

A chime sounded from Mira’s phone, and the automated voice rang out.

KANO MIRA HAS CHOSEN TRUTH. SHE HAS ANSWERED THE QUESTION HONESTLY.

Turning to her left, Mira passed the torch onto the next person. The businessman next to her, sweating out his anxiety, nodded, “I’ve been married twice.” The phone in his hand chimed out the same message as Mira’s had. His eyes shifted to the younger, but more stocky built man who stood resolute with his arms folded, eyeing the rest of the group with a hard expression. The intimidating stance he held, as well as the dark vest and cargo trousers, reminded her of Aguni, the militant leader. 

The tall man pursed his lips in mild irritation, before revealing, “I used to play piano as a child.” There were a few raised eyebrows at the statement, but everyone stayed silent in order to not offend the daunting figure as the phone chimed and they moved on. 

They went round the circle quickly, an older woman Michiko estimated to be in her forties revealed she used to steal sweets from the convenience stores when she was young. A girl in her twenties revealed that she once cheated in a high school exam, but she didn’t regret it cause it helped her get into her dream university. Afterwards she nervously claimed she only did it once. A younger man revealed he used to wear glasses but switched to contacts because he used to get bullied about how he looked with them. 

Behind her, Michiko heard Niragi scoff at the other young man’s truth. She didn’t even have to turn to envision him rolling his eyes. 

Then it was Mahiru’s turn. Letting the silence stretch on agonisingly as the rest of the group glanced at her expectantly, Mahiru wetted her lip before meeting those gazes. “My best friend’s name was Nara Eun-Kyung.”

Michiko’s stomach dropped upon hearing her mother’s name slip from the woman’s mouth, a deathly chill overtaking her entire body. She hadn’t heard her mother’s name spoken out loud in years, only ever hearing it inside her head. She had almost forgotten what it sounded like. Hot tears pricked at the bottom of her eyes, but she forced them back, refusing to let herself cry in front of a group of strangers.

TANAKA MAHIRU HAS CHOSEN TRUTH. SHE HAS ANSWERED THE QUESTION HONESTLY.

She could’ve sworn that she caught Mahiru’s eyes flickering to her for a split second. The moment didn’t last long, Mahiru’s eyes going back to the group. Suddenly, Michiko felt the heavy gaze of the group falling onto her. Unexpectedly feeling so small under the weight of everyone’s eyes at the intrusive moment of vulnerability, she cleared her throat. Ripping her eyes away from the older woman who claimed that her mother was her best friend, she found the rest of the group eyeing her expectantly.

Dropping her eyes as her cheeks heated in embarrassment, she let her truth slip. “My favouite book is Percy Jackson: The Last Olympian.” Fortunately, most of the other players glanced at her in confusion, the majority of them seemingly not recognising the title. Her pride was at least safe. She found her eyes on Mahiru again, the older woman sending her a soft smile.

Heated anger stirred up in her gut at that smile. 

NARA MICHIKO HAS CHOSEN TRUTH. SHE HAS ANSWERED THE QUESTION HONESTLY.

The young girl flinched at the game's reveal of her family name. Her eyes darted quickly around the group, hoping nobody picked up on the slip, and that nobody connected it to Mahiru’s answer earlier. There were no wary glances or pitying smiles, so she allowed herself a moment of relief. Her name was not recognised amongst the other players.

The group turned to the final player yet to reveal a truth, and Michiko allowed herself to pull away from Mahiru to follow their gaze. Niragi stood casually against the wall, rifle still perched upon his shoulder as a warning sign. The man caught their inquisitive looks and scoffed. “This is stupid,” He claimed, rolling his eyes, his hands almost shaking in anticipation with the simmering need for violence.

“It’s not stupid at all, Niragi. It’s simply easy. Remember what we discussed,” Mira said calmly, almost as if she were gently scolding a child rather than poking at a sleeping bear.

The man scoffed before his eyes caught Michiko’s. The ire in his eyes twisted into something challenging. “I don’t regret killing any of the people I’ve killed,” He said, sending her a smirk. The simmering rage lifted its ugly head inside of Michiko at the statement, her hands wanting nothing more than to lunge at Niragi and shove a knife in his neck. To watch him choke and bleed out slowly before his body finally went limp. She envisioned it so clearly that delight rose up to meet the anger. She wondered just when she had started thinking like this, relishing in the thought of murder. It made her sound like her father. 

But Michiko knew if she partook in her vision, Niragi would have no qualms about riddling her with bullets before she could reach him. Plus she had no weapon of her own in the first place. So she quieted her anger, stilled her jittery fingers and clenched her jaw, stuffing it back down until the moment she truly needed it. 

She would find an opportunity, but she needed to bide her time and be smart about it, wait for the right moment. Whilst he was armed, there was no point in making a move. 

NIRAGI SUGURU HAS CHOSEN TRUTH. HE HAS ANSWERED THE QUESTION HONESTLY.

The moment of tension between them rose and stilled, and she caught the flicker of disappointment flash through his eyes. His attempt to goad her into making a move lacked success. She didn’t give him the needed excuse to fall victim to the violent urges at his fingertips. He shuffled the rifle from one shoulder to the other, an attempt to hide the fact he was bothered by her lack of action. But Michiko could see the crouching tiger that lay underneath the surface, also biding its time and waiting for the right opportunity. A predator stalking its prey.

Niragi would soon realise that she wasn’t prey. She would prove it.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 13

♤♡◇♧

A blanket of silence fell upon the entire room after Niragi's admission and the game's subsequent confirmation. With the round complete, and everyone answering their truth, no one knew whether the game would continue to the next round. Or would they be forced to wait, watching as the clock ticked down agonisingly slow, left to stew in their mistrust of one another. If they were indeed required to wait until the end of the hour, Michiko would rather spend the time not under the scrutinising gaze of strangers. The thought chilled her to the bone.

"So," The long haired girl in her twenties chimed in, breaking up the heavy cloak of tension, everyone's eyes falling onto her, "Everyone's gone right? Does the round stop here or do we wait until the time runs out?"

Murmuring buzzed through the room, everyone else pondering the girl's question. Michiko looked down at her phone to see the countdown indeed clicked on with no sign of change. There were fifty minutes left of the first round.

"I guess we wait," Mira stated. The woman was easily the least disturbed of all the players, a serene smile still plastered upon her face. As if she were enjoying the unfolding activity - taking pleasure in the confusion.

No one made a move. All nine players waited with bated breath to see who would break the circle first. Eyes shifted nervously from one body to the next, anticipating for someone to alter the dynamic. Growing quickly tired of the lack of action, Michiko huffed before turning around and stalking off to the stairwell, wanting to get as far away as she could from Niragi's abhorrent presence.

The fifth floor was where she found herself stepping out into a hall of private offices. Entering the nearest one, she perched herself on the edge of the desk, unceremoniously shifting a few messily strewn papers out of the way. Her eyes were drawn directly to the window, the beacons of other game venues across the pitch black city skyline catching her gaze. More people would be out there playing those games, trapped inside just as she was with only two options. Surviving whatever trauma the game makers - whoever they were - saw fit to bestow. Or fall into the chilling hands of death.

Perhaps Chishiya and Kirika were in amongst the venues currently within her sight, putting their own lives on the line for the sake of victory. Chishiya would no doubt worm his way out alive by pulling whatever strings he could grasp onto.

On the other hand, tonight was Kirka's first game without those around her that would care enough to help her through. She wasn't alone, but she might as well be. Tonight was a test for all three of them. To evaluate their skills, their resourcefulness, their usefulness to the Beach's bigger picture. A deep part of Michiko - buried underneath the precedence for her own survival - worried the gentle spirited girl may not have what it took.

Perhaps it would be for the best. This world had a habit of destroying the does and letting the wolves run free. To avoid death, one had to transform. In the week she had known Kirika, Michiko could not visualise such a transformation in the girl's tender disposition.

Traitorous thoughts hated that. The idea of this world claiming Kirika like Niragi had claimed the life of the doe earlier in the day.

Alone hidden in the shadows of that office, Michiko - more than she ever had before - wished for Ichida's presence. In the face of these conflicting feelings towards a girl who was still practically a stranger, he could've bequeathed some of the fatherly wisdom he often spouted. But he could not. Michiko's was reminded of that fact every time she closed her eyes.

Sticky blood coating her fingers. Ichida's head lying limp beneath her palms. His body going slack.

A metal baseball bat in her hands as she slammed it over and over into a face that was unseen.

Warm blood soaking her trainers as it pooled out of her mother's limp form.

Shuddering, she shook the thoughts from her head, forcefully casting them away.

A thud echoed from the hallway, the door to the stairwell slamming closed. Michiko flinched at the sound, ears picking up soft footsteps down the hallway. It wasn't the heavy swagger of Niragi's gait. And she imagined there would only be one other person willing to follow her up to this floor.

Instinct told her who it was.

The steps stopped by the door to the office she sat in. Eyes bored into her through the glass door, and Michiko prayed that the person would decide to leave her alone. If it was who she thought, she'd rather not talk to the person who could add more baggage to the broken-wheeled suitcase she lugged around in her mind daily.

Her prayers went unanswered, much to her misfortune. The door squeaked open and the person stepped in hesitantly. Rooting herself to her spot, Michiko refused to turn around and lay her eyes on the woman. With a hefty sigh, the presence drew closer, coming to her side and sitting herself beside Michiko - the teen's jaw ached as she grit her teeth at the audacity. The weighted silence was held between them for an uncomfortably long moment, before Mahiru dropped her efforts to keep it aloft, "So, Is this where you've been this whole time?"

Furrowing her brow at the question, Michiko eyed Mahiru warily, with an expression of confusion, "Huh?"

"When you disappeared, is this where you went? Have you been stuck in this place all along?" The older woman kept her eyes fixated on Michiko's face, ignoring the disdain in her eyes.

Michiko turned her eyes away with a scoff. "And if I was? If I had been stuck here instead of running off? Would that ease your conscience?" She asked in a sarcastic manner, missing Mahiru's eyes glazing over in disappointment.

"Michiko please."

A short huff of incredulous laughter escaped Michiko. "No, I haven't been stuck in this parallel universe where I fight for my life every night the whole time." She turned to Mahiru sharply, sending her a tight sarcastic smile, "Only half the time that's passed since I ran away."

Sighing and shaking her head, Mahiru replied, "So you really did run away..." She sent Michiko a sad smile. "When you disappeared I was.. devastated, I looked for you every-"

"Oh don't act like you actually cared." Michiko interrupted, her tone growing more irritated the longer she spent in Mahiru's presence and every sweet lie that fell from her lips, "don't act you didn't celebrate when I left. You said it yourself didn't you? That you wish you'd never taken me in."

Mahiru had the nerve to look guilty, but Michiko knew she wasn't guilty about what she said. From day one the woman had shown no true care. And when the true facets of Michiko's nature had made themselves visible - carved crudely from the unchecked trauma she had lived with ever since that day - instead of helping her work through her issues, Mahiru had let her steep in them. She had enabled the poison to fester.

"I - " Mahiru's voice shrunk under Michiko's heated glare, "I never meant any of it. I was angry that day. And I know I said some stupid things but can you blame me?"

Eyes narrowing and tongue clicking, Michiko spat, "Blame you? You never gave a shit about me. Did you never once think that after what I went through, maybe all I wanted was for someone to actually give a damn and help me. But no. You just cast me off as a problem the moment I started misbehaving, instead of looking to see what the actual problem was."

She watched as Mahiru gulped, eyes falling down away from Michiko, as if she was really sorry for what she said, "Michiko," she started hesitantly, as if reaching out her hand to a cornered animal, "I realise I made mistakes when it came to you. But you weren't the only one grieving. I lost my best friend, and then I was suddenly swamped with new responsibilities, a child to take care of, a job to keep hold of. It was a lot to handle."

"Well maybe you should've thought about that before offering to take me in." Michiko snarked back.

Mahiru shook her head, "It didn't feel right not to. Your mother did a lot for me and I only wanted to return the favour. I couldn't leave you on your own. I wanted to give you a- a home, and security."

"Instead you just neglected my well being." Michiko's frosty stare locked onto Mahiru's eyes, watching a flicker of terror pass through them as she stood away from the desk, stalking towards the older woman with menacing countenance. She didn't miss the slight shuffle of Mahiru's foot as it took a clumsily step back. The woman gulped. A sickening sensation flared in Michiko's gut. Satisfaction.

The last five years Michiko had been trapped in a constant web of wary gazes and surrounded by a maze of paranoia. People looked at her and saw something... inhuman. Every time she caught those sidelong looks, it fostered the detestation for the world building inside her soul. This glimpse of gratification at Mahiru's terror was the first of its kind. Michiko found - to her own personal abhorrence - that she didn't hate it.

As the wolf approached, it howled. "Don't make yourself out to be blameless, Mahiru," The name tasted like too bitter coffee on her tongue, "You wanted to give me a home and security. Did you really think I ever thought of that place as a home?"

"Michiko-"

"Shut up." She hissed, interrupting Mahiru's attempts to placate her, "Do you wanna know the moment I first started hating you?" Mahiru's lip quivered slightly, her throat bobbing, "Five months after you took me in. When I was having night terrors about that day. The doctor recommended you take me to therapy. Do you remember what you said?" She paused, glowering up at the taller woman with a expectant curl to her lip.

"I- I don't-" Mahiru stuttered.

Michiko continued her venomous tirade, "You said that therapy was for the weak minded. That everyone went through grief everyday. That only the strong would surpass it. I heard you on the phone to your coworker that night. You told him that 'you wouldn't face any humiliation at work by putting your charge through something as embarrassing as therapy'. Mayve if you had set your prejudices aside I might've turned out less of a problem for you."

"You remember that?" Mahirus whispered staggeringly.

The chuckle that escaped Michiko was mirthless, "I remember everything. It seems to be a curse."

"Michiko, please-"

"Save it," Her head shok sharply, drawing her eyes away from Mahiru before she derive any more torturous pleasure from finally sweeping her under the pressure of her rage, "I don't wish to hear any more of your excuses."

The intolerable heat of the room was overwhelming. Anger had seeped out in Michiko's words, alongside the disgust at herself for uncontrollably imitating her father's derangement, carpeting the office with a thick miasma. Anymore resentful words spilled and she would find herself choking on them. She turned away, intending to leave. To drag herself down from the monster rearing its disgusting horns. That was a part of her.

"'Chichi' wait."

Whirling around on Mahiru with the most venomous glare she could muster, Michiko spat out, "Don't. You have no right to call me that." The old nickname stirred a depressive pit in her stomach that she had buried long ago. It was something that she held close to her heart, a precious endearment that deserved to be uttered by no one but her mother. The nickname had died alongside her, a reminder of how long Michiko's childhood had laid buried six feet under the earth.

Hearing this woman try to use it to guilt Michiko into giving her the time of the day made her bones shake with fury. She didn't deserve to use it at all. She had no claim to it.

The woman looked at her, brown eyes saddened like a puppy that had been kicked. Michiko knew the act well, having seen the woman do it many times to get her way. Mahiru often donned that look in an attempt to manipulate Michiko when she was younger into doing what she wanted. Recognising the facade didn't stop her from deflating under the gaze slightly, "Michiko, please." The woman begged.

Gritting her teeth, jaw aching hard, she ignored the instinct to give in and turned her back on the woman. "Just leave me the hell alone," Michiko strained out through her teeth.

She exited the office swiftly, deciding to hide out the remainder of the round on the next floor down. No other players had dared to venture there, allowing her to regain some semblance of misplaced peace.

The clock ticked down, every second seeing her anger rise and simmer, just upon the precipice of the boiling point. One more occurrence of flared rage would see it spill over.

She pushed it down as best as she could, the importance of remaining level headed for the remainder of the game outweighing the pits of fury building inside her. But the cards had all stacked against her. One by one. Niragi's presence, and her burning desire to watch him suffer. Mahiru's sudden appearance stirring up the emotions she'd tried to bury for so long. The dreading anticipation of what the game would bring up. What secrets it might force her to tell.

Five minutes before the end of the round. Her emotions had been collected enough to begin heading downstairs, back to the gathering of players. Ready to begin another round of this irrational game.

She was correct in her assumption that the players would gather in the reception again. Some had taken up new vantage points, others had remained in their previous roosts. Her eyes sought Niragi out of the importance of knowing where he was, so she could stay as far from him as she could. The intolerable man sat fidgeting with his rifle in the corner, dark eyes observing the other players at all times. She found herself surprised that he hadn't already snapped under deadly impulse and killed all the people he could.

Footfall echoed on the stairs behind her. Glancing backwards, her eyes narrowed and she sneered in disgust at seeing Mahiru descending them. Quickly removing herself from the bottom of the stairwell, she placed herself against the reception desk beside Mira. The woman still stood elegantly statuesque, eyes sparkling with mischief as she watched the timer on her phone reach zero.

When it hit the mark, the automated voice chimed out from all of their devices.

ROUND 1 IS OVER. EVERYONE HAS SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED THEIR TASKS.

ROUND TWO WILL NOW COMMENCE

Michiko gazed down at her phone, waiting for it to reveal her next options in nervous anticipation. Eventually, the writing appeared on the screen and she blinked, wondering if she was imagining what it said. Trepidation caused a nauseating churn in her stomach.

TRUTH: TELL THE ENTIRE GROUP WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MOTHER

DARE: CUT OFF SOMEONE ELSE'S FINGER

Telling people what had happened to her mother was something that came agonizingly difficult to Michiko. She despised the pitying glances people always sent her way when they discovered the truth. Then those glances often shifted to the opposite spectrum of disgust and fear when they put two and two together with her family name and her murdered mother. When they figured out whose blood she shared, people always strayed further from her presence, as if she were a feral animal who was about to snap at any moment.

Sasaki Keiko - the girl who'd herded a bullying campaign against her - had been a stellar example of the cruelty of prejudice.

Avoidance had become her closest companion. The reactions continuously exhausted her. Telling a group of strangers what happened and seeing those looks again sent apprehension stirring inside of her head.

On the other hand, pinning down someone long enough to cut their finger off would not be an easy task. Not to mention she didn't even have a weapon sharp enough to do the job. Michiko eyed the woman in her twenties, the mild mannered girl who'd admitted to cheating on a high-school test. She'd be a fairly easy target.

An acrid taste of disgust sat in her throat, and she dragged her eyes away from the woman. She'd realy considered placing someone under physical disfigurement just because she didn't want to reveal her sob-story to the rest of the group. Her thumb ran over the ring on her finger. Her mother would be revolted if she could see her now.

There was only one way to battle through this.

Looking up, she observed the players around her to gauge their reactions. Many of them looked down at their phones in a painting of horrified glances. Some sneaked hesitant looks to the surrounding participants. Anxious tension permeated the air, thick and writhing.

An amused huff stabbed through it as Niragi raised himself from his spot in the corner. The muscles around his shoulders coiled - predatorial - anticipating the hunt. "Well, this is about to get a whole lot more interesting," He smirked, eyes roving over the other players tauntingly. Underneath the tough facade, Michiko caught a glimpse of disconcertment behind his hard gaze.

It was Mira who spoke up next, her gentle tone full of mirth, "So, who would like to kick things off this time."

Wanting to get things over with while everyone was still in the room, Michiko pushed herself from the wall, the movement causing everyone's gazes to shift to her. Squaring her shoulders in an attempt to not resemble an ant underneath a crushing boot, she gulped. "I guess I will since no one's run off yet," She huffed, "the game has asked me to tell you all what happened to my mother. To cut a long story short, she was murdered." Her gaze cut downward, not wanting to meet the pitiful glances she could already sense being sent her way, like hot irons on her skin.

The solid weight of Mahiru's eyes begged her to look her way. "I came home one day to find her dead on the floor..." She trailed off, hoping the chime of the bell would signify a satisfactory answer. That the game would count her statement so she could keep her story as vague as it needed to be.

NARA MICHIKO HAS CHOSEN TRUTH. SHE HAS ANSWERED THE QUESTION HONESTLY

Holding back a visible flinch, she let her tense shoulders relax as the game accepted her answer. Stepping back, she casually met the gazes of the other players, trying to deflect the attention to the next person. "Well then, who's up next?"

Silence greeted her. The other players all glanced at her nervously, their expressions guarded. No one dared to speak up. The only one who did was the only one who seemed to urge the game into continuation. Mira's eyes wandered over all of their faces, easy smile still on her lips. "Well? Didn't we all agree to tell our truths so we would all survive through the game?" She giggled softly, "I'll go next then. When I was young, my favourite stuffed animal was called Mr. Rabbit. He was this fluffy white bunny rabbit and I loved to play with him so much!!" Her eyes were wistful, as if looking into times long past.

KANO MIRA HAS CHOSEN TRUTH. SHE HAS ANSWERED THE QUESTION HONESTLY

Michiko couldn't help the bitterness that rose in her chest at how easy Mira's truth seemed to be. Compared to the options Michiko was given, Mira's truths seemed to breeze from her without restraint. The woman searched around the room with her mischievous gaze, grinning as if she were having the most fun in the world. "Well, who would like to go next?"

Nobody stepped forward. The nervous businessman pushed his thinning hair back, stammering out. "Well I- I don't think- I don't think I can."

Mira frowned, the hurt expression she sent the man bordering on the edge of theatrical. "But didn't we all agree? I'm sure your truth can't be anything too bad right? I mean, poor Michiko had to tell us about her dear mother, surely it can't be much worse than that?"

The stuttering man looked down at his phone, forehead beading with sweat. He shook his head.

"Ah, fuck this stupid dancing around, let's just cut to the chase." A deep irritated voice sounded out, and a lithe figure strode across the room, coming down upon the nervous businessman. The action was so quick that the room had very little time to process exactly what was going on, before an agonised scream was torn from the businessman's throat.

"Fuck!" Michiko's eyes were blown wide as she had watched Niragi grab the businessman's wrist. The sickening crack came next. It echoed around the room, harmonised by the man's pained screeching and the gasps of shock from the other players. Niragi had cleaved the man's arm over his knee with enough force to snap the bone. A chill ran down Michiko's spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck as Niragi let out a gleeful laugh. Through his excruciating moans, the businessman looked up at him incredulously, "You broke my arm?!"

NIRAGI SUGURU HAS CHOSEN DARE. HE HAS CARRIED HIS TASK SUCCESSFULLY.

The rising wave of fear froze Michiko as she watched the predator that lay poised inside of Niragi set itself loose again. The monster that chased the thrill of the hunt.

Niragi chuckled down at the businessman through strands of loose dark hair, manic eyes drinking in the atmosphere of terror - a climate of his own creation.

The businessman fell with a harsh shove from Niragi, the prowling tiger crouching over him, feet planted on either side of quivering legs. Niragi held his rifle aloft threateningly in the man's sweaty face. "Let's see what you were hiding here huh?" With his free hand, he plucked the phone out of the businessman's grasp, taking a long look at the phone. A hyena's cackle ripped out of him.

"'Tell someone the reason why you and your first wife divorced, or stab someone'. Go on tell us then, why did you and your first wife get divorced? Did you do something naughty huh? Little weasel like you, I bet you had another little piece on the side didn't you?" The businessman fell silent, no stuttered words escaping his harsh breathing. He gulped at the accusation, lips trembling. From the pain or nerves Michiko couldn't tell. The grip he had on his broken arm tightened minutely.

Niragi huffed out an incredulous laugh. "Really?" He poked the older man in the chest with stabbing force, eliciting sharp winces. Over and over. "An ugly fucker like you managed to pull two women? And you were thinking about stabbing someone over something so stupid?" Michiko almost belted out laughing at Niragi's hypocrisy. She would've liked to see what truth he was given. Did the man break someone's arm out of his own violent cravings? Or was he hiding something that he didn't want other to know?

The scene became almost entrancing. The beast she wanted to destroy was once again forming before her eyes. She was unable to stomach it but unable to look away.

"I- I uh-" The businessman stuttered, his breathing so harsh and heavy he struggled to form coherent words.

"I- I-" Niragi mocked. "As if you would've had the balls."

There was a flicker of movement as the businessman's unbroken arm reached into his pocket, his hand scrabbling for something. Gritting his teeth, he brought the arm up towards Niragi, and Michiko caught the glint of steel. His attempts were thwarted. Niragi caught his incoming arm, eyeing the object in the businessman's hand with a raised eyebrow. It was a small switchblade, the sharp edge of the knife centimetres away from meeting flesh. Niragi looked down at the man with a mocking smirk, and the man looked up, eyes wide with unadulterated fear, the switchblade falling from his trembling hand and clattering to the floor.

The gunshot echoed through the room, a cacophony of screams quickly following. Blood splattered from the back of the businessman's head, spraying across the walls behind him at the pull of the trigger. Niragi's movement was so swift it was almost untraceable. The gun was under the businessmen's chin in an instant. His head fell limp, and Niragi let his form crumple to the floor, standing upright from his crouched position and spitting down upon the body, desecrating it with one last kick.

WATANABE HARUTO HAS BEEN ELIMINATED FROM THE GAME

The unsettled tiger searched the room, meeting the eyes of those who remained. He played his own sick game of daring anyone else to stand against him.

It was then that Michiko had noticed the disappearance of most of the other players, those less attuned to his violence running in the wake of his actions, escaping the fate of becoming his next victim. The stocky gangster-looking guy, the older woman, and the man and woman in their twenties had all vanished.

All that remained were Michiko, Mira and Mahiru. Left within the emerging path of destruction.

Niragi laughed gleefully at seeing the emptier space, "Seems as though I've scared off the rabbits." His eyes met Michiko, and she shuddered under his violent gaze. "But the little mouse hasn't been frightened off." He stalked closer, the gun threateningly pointed under her chin, his fingers itching at the trigger. Michiko could still feel the heat of the barrel burning her skin. She bit her lip to hold back the wince. "Would it like me to shoot it as well?"

Michiko forced herself to remain unwavering, meeting his gaze. The stubborn part of her refusing to crumble under his threat. "If you're giving me the option, then I'd rather not have a gun pointed at me thank you." She remarked, holding her hands up in surrender, attempting to keep her voice steady and unwithering.

Scoffing, Niragi removed the rifle, setting it back on his shoulder, leaning his face down towards her. "You're lucky I've been given orders not to kill you tonight." With that, he twisted away from her and stalked up the stairs, whistling as he went. Once his presence had disappeared, Michiko let out a heavy breath, letting her shoulders slump in relief, the tension of the room leaving alongside the one who manufactured it.

Glancing around, Michiko caught sight of Mira. The woman hadn't so much as shifted a single muscle. She looked down upon the dead businessman with almost sad eyes, but her smile spoke of a secret amusement. "What a shame, I thought he was rather nice."

Michiko's gaze then settled on Mahiru, who was affixed by the scene, a troubled expression twisting on her face. She met Michiko's stare with terrified eyes, "I'm guessing he's someone I'm going to have to stay away from."

Keeping her facade of nonchalance, Michiko tore her gaze away from the woman, shrugging. "I thought that would've been made obvious by the massive gun." Was all she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the woman nod distantly, eyes never leaving the bloody scene on the wall.

Stepping closer to the body, Michiko leaned down and picked up the switchblade from next to it. The cold metal pricked at her fingers, and her hand became marred in the blood that covered it. Wiping it clean of the blood on the businessman's suit, she placed the small weapon securely in her pocket. It may come in handy, she thought to herself.

She caught Mahiru's incredulous gaze as the woman watched her actions. "What?" The teenager shrugged, "It's not like he's going to need it." She gestured to the dead body with a nod, stepping away and up the stairs. Need had her escaping the woman's judgemental stare and Mira fixated, unnerving smile.

"What an odd child." She heard Mira muse to herself.

"Don't have to tell me twice." Was Mahiru's response.

The two women's voices floated away distantly as she stopped on the first floor, listening out for any other presences. When she was met with disconcerting silence, she skulked through the hall before finding an office to hide in. Like she did after the first round, she sat on the edge of the desk - a creature of habit she was. She fiddled with the switchblade in her pocket, contemplating as she gazed down at it. Her mind ran wild with discordance.

This game was quickly becoming far more dangerous territory than she was expecting. It preyed on their secrets, the threat of their most humiliating pieces of them pushing them to pursue more viscous means. Paired with the atmosphere and the maddening time limit, it brought out their most inhuman facets.

Pulling the switchblade free, she mechanically flicked the knife out and away over and over, fixated on the repetitive motion.

She now had a weapon. This is what she had been seeking. An advantage to use against Niragi. All she needed to do was get past the rifle somehow. She was small. And quiet. She could sneak up on him when his back was turned. She could see the scenario play out second by second with startling detail. In this instance, it was her who was the predator, waiting for the opportune moment when his back was open. She would pounce quickly and quietly, jamming the blade into his neck over and over, giving him no time to react and aim the rifle. The last thing he would see was her gazing down at him, satisfied with her work and watching the life drain from his reprehensible existence.

Her hands stilled from the repetitive motion as she eyed the silver blade, fighting back the bile that rose up in her throat. In the movie playing inside her mind, she looked just like her father. She put the knife back in her pocket, dispelling the thoughts from her head with a huff.

A beefy arm locked around her throat, digging the lie-detecting collar into her skin brutally. The sweaty hand covering her mouth stifled the scream building in her throat. "Sorry about this kid." A raspy voice hissed in her ear. So caught up inside her own head, Michiko hadn't noticed his looming presence until it was too late.

Limbs flailing, she struggled against the constricting lock on her throat. Her chest burned from the blockage of her airway. Dark spots danced at the edges of her vision, as her hands scrabbled at the arm around her throat, attempting to fight against the hold, unable to summon the strength to pull them off of her.

In a last ditch attempt to free herself, she bit down upon the hand over her mouth with as much strength as her jaw could muster. The iron tang of blood burst onto her tongue. Her assailant cried out, his hold loosening enough for Michiko to gulp down a relieving breath. With the space to move opened up, she thrust her head back into the person, feeling a nose crack under the force. A blinding ache spread like a web across the back of her skull. But with the adrenaline of survival instinct running rampant through her veins, she blanked it, twisting away and catching sight of who had dared to assault her.

It was the stocky man, the one who looked like a gangster. He held his nose, drops of blood seeping viscously through his closed fingers. "Damn brat. Just stay down and I'll make it quick." He growled, his eyes set on her, alight with an uncontrolled fire. Michiko's eyes flickered to the open doorway, seeking a path of escape. The man read her movement before she could make them. Springing like a snake, he cut off her path as she darted around the desk.

Michiko was a cornered rabbit with a fox baring its snarling teeth in front of her. Meaty hands struck out, grasping around her throat in a vice-like grip, sending the metal collar biting up into the flesh of her chin. Choked gasps escaped her. The unstoppable force of the action combined with the man's heavier gait knocked her to the ground. Her back of her head struck the floor, the spidering throb sending her vision wavering.

Everything was a blur. A vision edged in darkness. The man hovered over her, spittle seeping through grit teeth. His eyes flickered with a gaze that bordered on regret. Remorseful.

His face morphed. Before her appeared her father, with his manic smile, and tortured eyes.

Distantly she was aware of her nails biting into the flesh of his hands. But her feeble attempts didn't stop the grip from crushing her windpipe. "I'm sorry, but it's you or me kid. I can't let this secret out." The mutter whispered itself through the rushing in her ears.

Her hands slackened from their fruitless attempts at freedom the longer she spent in a state of choking breath. Was this how she was to meet her end?

Would anyone miss her?

Kirika might. But they knew each other for so little time that the other girl would probably move on quickly, casting aside the ghost of a girl she almost knew. Doubt filled her mind about Chishiya missing her at all. The man would shrug off her death casually and then continue with his own priorities. Himself.

Her hands fell limp to her side. Her eyes flickered closed. Through the minute gaps the ace changed again. This time, it was Niragi. Hovering over her with a hyena's laugh. It knocked on the walls inside her already pounding skull, echoing and billowy.

Coldness brushed at her fingertip. Was that the chilling hand of death greeting her? No. It was metal. Michiko's hand grasped around the object weakly, thumb scrabbing to flick the blade out. Channelling the white hot, blinding rage she extended towards the mirage of the man before, she thrust the blade into her assailant's side several times. Over and over and over and over.

She was quickly relieved of the squeezing constraint upon her throat.

Coughing and spluttering, Michiko rolled onto her side, clutching at the blade. The man's agonised cries caught her attention, and through her wavering vision, she found his figure. He clutched at his profusely bleeding side, the red seeping out through his fingers. Blinking the dregs of dizziness from her eyes, she wobbled to her feet and struck out immediately. With quick panicked breaths, she drove the knife into the man's abdomen with all the force she could muster. She kept going. Until his pained cries stopped. Until blood bubbled up his throat and spilled from his lips. Until he fell back limp, eyes wide as the light drained from them. His final expression was etched in shock, eyes fixated on the younger girl above him, eerily unseeing.

TAKAHASHI YUTO HAS BEEN ELIMINATED FROM THE GAME

Her chest heaved. The scratchiness of her throat forced a hacking cough from her as she leaned over her knees and retched, body attempting to catch back up to some semblance of normal function. A trembling hand reached up and rubbed at her tender neck, the phantom of the man's large hands still clenched around it - bruising.

A sarcastic clap echoed through the room. Her head snapped to the open doorway where Niragi leaned casually. The taller man smirked down at her tauntingly, "Looks like the little mouse does have teeth. I really thought we were going to have to drag your cold, dead body back to the Beach for a moment there."

Still locked within the throes of heightened adrenaline and blazing fury, Michiko's blood itched. Her knuckles turned white as her grip on the switchblade tightened. She imagined herself repeating her previous action, but the rifle that still lay in its permanent place on his shoulder served as a warning against her current violent instincts.

She needed to get away before she did something rash. Before she acted without thought and actually did get herself killed. She had brushed far too closely with death already, feeling his touch intimately.

Striding forward, she knocked into Niragi's arm as she passed by him, missing the threatening scowl he shot her way in response.

She stopped halfway down the stairs, leaning on the wall to catch her breath under the dim lights. Shakily, her legs stumbled down the rest of the way, still attempting to catch up with her mind. The heat of another's gaze greeted her when she reached the bottom, "Michiko dear, what on earth happened to you?" The gentle voice of Mira broke through the haze. The tone of concern was carefully constructed, but even through her foggy mind she picked up on the false lilt.

Meeting the woman's eyes with a hardened gaze, through the puffiness of her red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. "Some dumb bastard tried to take a cheap shot at me." She shrugged off the incident. There was still another round to play - the remainder of the game to survive. She couldn't waver under the close threat of near death.

The corner of Mira's lips tilted up. "Did he get what he deserved?" The woman asked, an entertained gleam in her eyes as she drank in Michiko's haggard appearance.

With a sharp nod, Michiko crossed the room, planting herself beside the woman next to the wall. Ignoring her blood-slicked hands, she shoved the switchblade back into her pocket. Her hands stayed there, clasped around it. She wouldn't be caught unaware again. "He did," She spat an answer to Mira's question..

"Good," Mira praised, "I'm very impressed with how you've handled this so far. You're a very competent player in these games. Survive the rest of it and you'll have a coveted place amongst the Beach's residents."

The woman's sham compliments meant nothing to Michiko. There was nothing she wanted less than having that kind of attention on her. Fading into obscurity was a much better pastime. Made moving around much easier.

The countdown whittled down to zero. No other players reappeared in the reception area. Clearly they were far too terrified of running into Niragi's savage rampage.

ROUND TWO IS OVER. NOT ALL PLAYERS HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED THEIR TASKS.

SATO IZUMI HAS FAILED TO COMPLETE EITHER TRUTH OR DARE, SO SHE WILL NOW BE ELIMINATED.

ROUND THREE WILL NOW COMMENCE

The third and final round. If she finished this, it would be over at last. This game had tortured her enough. All that remained was surviving to the end of the round.

But a sickening dread had built up within Michiko at the thought of what the game would bring for its finale. If the jump between round one and two was anything to compare, the last round would be the most brutal of all. How far are you willing to go to hide your secrets, the game had asked. It would soon find out just how far Michiko would go.

TRUTH: REVEAL THE IDENTITY OF YOUR FATHER

DARE: TAKE REVENGE ON SOMEONE WHO HAS WRONGED YOU

A smirk threatened to plaster itself on Michiko's lips. She fought to hold it down. The game was giving her a perfect excuse, as if it had read her mind and provided the extra encouragement to do carry out what she had set out to do the moment Niragi's bullet ripped through Ichida's back.

Michiko may have been willing to indulge what had happened to her mother the previous round. She had seen through the loophole the game gave her and kept her story as vague as possible. But she refused to tell any of these people who her father was. There was only one other option left. And it was an enticing one indeed.

"So," Mira's voice interrupted her musings, "are we completing the game by telling our final truths?" Michiko turned at the woman's question, observing the almost knowing smile on her face. "I'll tell you mine. I'm rather enjoying these games if I'm being honest, seeing everyone fighting so hard, seeing the betrayal, the intricacies of human nature. It's rather intriguing, wouldn't you agree?" A chime.

KANO MIRA HAS CHOSEN TRUTH. SHE HAS ANSWERED THE QUESTION HONESTLY

Mira's pure glee unnerved Michiko, as the woman stared down at her with expectant eyes. The words that spilled from her snake-tongue were inviting. She was so open in her expression that Michiko couldn't help but hang on to her every word.

An abominable piece of her soul - the part that took after her father's repulsive genes - inclined to agree with the woman.

Addiction was one of the worst sicknesses that could run rampant through the human body, no matter what form it took. If left unchecked, it could destroy one's very existence. Whittle them down into nothing but a being devoid of humanity. A husk. The rush that the games provided was almost addictive in a way that was dangerous. The thrill of brushing so close to death, feeling it reach its hand out, fingers skimming over her soul. The excitement of surviving those close calls. The satisfying sense of achievement when she found the solutions - when she beat the challenges the games provided. There was something compelling inside them.

No. Drawing her eyes away from Mira, she flushed the thoughts away. She would not fall into that depravity.

The games had already taken away so much. They were a deadly poison that the players consumed each night. It infected their souls. Had them question their morality. The games were a virus. A drug that people got high off, only to experience the worst come-down. They were not good things, no matter what excitement they could provide. She could not let herself become addicted like other's evidently had. She would not be entertainment for the gods.

Pursing her lips, Michiko looked back at Mira, hardening her gaze as she kept the woman's luring stare at bay. "Good for you," She bit sarcastically.

Sending her a smile, Mira responded, "Are you going to tell me your truth now? Whatever it is, know that I won't judge. We're all simply human after all, there are many things that are in our nature. We all have pieces of ourselves we want to keep hidden. But sometimes, it's good to just let it all out. To let yourself be seen."

Michiko could feel herself being drawn in - moth to flame. Mira's gentleness tugged at the edges of her soul, speaking to the parts that wanted to emerge from the centuries-long chrysalis she had been trapped inside. She fought against it. "I think I'd much rather carry out my dare. Telling my truth doesn't seem all that appealing at the moment."

"Well then," Mira held her gaze, her grin becoming excited, "I wish you luck in your endeavours. I guess the violence of these games is in your nature after all. Just as I suspected. You're going to be a very fun player to watch Nara Michiko."

The way she purred her name sent chilling waves rampaging down Michiko's spine. Like she was a mother calling out to a wayward child. But not a kind mother, like Michiko's own. Like a deadly viper that hid behind the facade of gentleness, luring prey into a sense of comfort before consuming them whole.

Mira's words were a stinging ache in Michiko's chest as they festered in the air between them. No matter how hard she tried to stave it off, the violence inside her very soul always found a way to leak out, becoming seen by others. Everywhere she turned it was there, a constant looming shadow of her father's reflection. She pulled away from the wall, wanting to get away from Mira and the dissecting words that were beginning to pull her apart piece by piece.

After all, she had retribution to follow through on.

"What a creep." She muttered as she climbed the stairs.

♤♡◇♧

All she had to do was follow the sound of the sudden scream that bounced off the walls of the corridors. She discovered Niragi's position on the top floor, having cornered the other younger male player. The young man scrambled backwards on the floor, desperate to escape the beast stalking him. Lifting the rifle from his shoulder in a practiced maneuver, Niragi fired multiple, excessive rounds at the young man. His body fell to the floor riddled with seeping red holes. Niragi's frame hovered over the body with a satisfied grin.

From behind the corner of the stairwell, Michiko watched the scene with acid sitting at the back of her throat.

NIRAGI SUGURU HAS CHOSEN DARE. HE HAS CARRIED OUT HIS TASK SUCCESSFULLY.

At the back of her mind, she briefly wondered what secrets Niragi held so tightly. Enough to kill someone over. Not that she had any room to judge. At the current moment, she harboured the exact same sentiment.

His back was turned. The distance between them was short enough to cover quickly. Around twenty steps if she estimated correctly. Michiko could be silent enough. She could sneak up on him quickly, take him by surprise. Her festering anger rose sharply, holding a deathly grip on her heart that burned at all of her nerves. The switchblade was out of her pocket instantly, her knuckles turning white from the grip she held on it. Her feet moved. Her heart pounded. Fifteen steps. Creeping closer to the man, she adjusted her grip. Ten steps. She remained as quiet as a graveyard, her presence unrevealed as she stalked up on her prey, a silent predator. Five steps.

The unexpected grasp on her arm almost elicited a quiet gasp from her as she was pulled into the nearest office.

With her clear path to vengeance thwarted, Michiko whirled around on the perpetrator with a venomous glare. Mahiru stared back at her, finger at her lips in a shushing motion. The older woman's apparent intention was to protect Michiko from Niragi's rampage. However her attempts only fuelled Michiko's blazing fire as the girl became increasingly frustrated over her missed opportunity. She was just a hair's length away from justice, and Mahiru had ruined everything.

Mahiru's eyes flickered to the door, terror filling them whole. Heat sent her hair standing on edge as she could sense the man's malicious intent levelling on her. Glancing behind herself, Michiko met Niragi's gaze challengingly. A satisfied smirk twitched at the corner of his lip.

A heavy moment of tension extended its thread between the three of them. For a split second, Michiko believed that Niragi might raise the gun and shoot them both as his blood still thrummed under the thrill of the hunt. "Better hurry and complete your task, little mouse," He chuckled his way down the corridor, rifle held aloft across his broad shoulders, arms hanging around it. Narrow eyes tracking his back, Michiko made to follow, not wanting to lose track of him. One wasted opportunity would not prevent her from following through with her desired actions. Niragi would be cold and on his way into the decomposition process before the time was up.

She didn't even make it out the door before a hand gripped at her upper arm with bruising force. "What were you even trying to do there Michiko?" Mahiru hissed, eyeing the blade in her hand with a disgusted look.

Michiko whirled around, eyes alight with detestation. "It's none of your business," she snapped back.

"Were you really going to just kill that man without thought? No remorse at all?" The older woman asked incredulously, apprehension flickering across her features as she pulled her face back from Michiko slightly. Her grip on her arm slackened.

Michiko ripped her arm away, gritting her teeth and shrugging. Her gaze swayed away from the older woman back towards the door, "That was the plan."

Mahiru's eyes burned the back of her skull, where it still ached. "What have you become? Have you really lost yourself so much that you'd stoop to- to cold blooded murder?"

Snapping her head around once again, Michiko bit back her answer, "You don't want to know the kinds of things I've had to do to survive. Just how long have you been here?"

Mahiru's eyes narrowed in confusion, "What?"

"How long have you been in this world?" Michiko repeated.

Gulping, Mahiru answered, "A- a few days. Why?"

"And how many games have you played?" Was the teenager's next inquiry.

"Just the one. It was a five of clubs, if that means anything to you." Mahiru revealed.

Michiko hummed, before stepping threateningly into Mahiru's bubble of safety, "I've been here for around two weeks now. This is my fifth game. You quickly learn in this world that killing is necessary. It's either you, or them. If you want to survive, you have to be ready to lose your morals. The games have a way of stripping you of them."

"But-" Mahiru hesitated, "But killing for the sake of killing, Michiko. All that does is make you- it makes you like him."

Upon hearing Mahiru's statement, Michiko blinked. She could feel the knife teetering on the precipice, ready to fall one way or another. Comparing her to him was a bold statement that flared Michiko's anger up. "He deserves it. He killed Ichida." She spat. The emptiness of his absence consumed her every waking moment, the man's ghost casting a shadow of grief over her that hadn't lifted yet.

"Ichida?"

"Officer Nakajima." It felt wrong, referring to him by his official title. Not after everything they went through together. Not after everything he did for her.

"Officer Nakajima's dead?" A hint of disbelieving sorrow flashed in Mahiru's eyes at the question.

Wanting to still the shaking in her hands, Michiko hid them in the pockets of her hoodie. "He is," She bit out, pulling her gaze to the floor, before gesturing her head towards the door, "and that man out there is the one that did it. And now, I'm going to kill him, no matter what it takes. Ichida was good, he didn't deserve to die..." She trailed off, choking on her words at the reminder that the man she desperately wished could've been her father - over the man she shared tainted blood with - was gone. Her expression twisted into a venomous scowl, "Niragi is going to pay for what he did."

"You know, you look just like your father." Mahiru whispered.

The knife wobbled, threatening to tumble off into the darkness. "Do you really think I'm anything like him?"

Silence encompassed the space between them, long and uncomfortable. It spoke more truth than any words Mahiru could conjure. A flicker of guilt in her eyes that passed quickly told her all she needed. Michiko scoffed, shaking her head with a grim tightening of her lips.

"I think it's about time I told you the truth." Mahiru's voice was soft and hesitant, as if testing the solidity of the ice that stretched between them. Michiko looked at the older woman, searching the distant gaze that was in her eyes, the confliction they held. "You were right with what you said earlier. I never cared for you. Not one bit. I admit it now."

The words had Michiko prepared to leave the room, not wanting to listen to another noxious word that left the woman's lips.

Mahiru's hand shot out once again, grasping desperately at her sleeve. Michiko was quickly growing tired of the unwanted contact. It was yet another prickle that stoked her increasing vexation. "No, please Michiko, for once in your life please just listen to me." The younger girl stopped in her tracks at the woman's begging. "I- I don't know how to really tell you this, but I- I loved your mother a lot. She was my best friend, my confidant. We shared everything with each other. She was a huge part of my life. And then you came along," The woman trailed off, shaking her head before finding her words once again, "and all of her attention suddenly went to you. She no longer had time for me. And I always hated you for it. For all of the years I knew you, I resented you for taking her away from me."

Michiko's insides tightened upon every word. There was always the distinct impression in the five years she had spent under Mahiru's roof that the woman had disliked her on some deeper level. It wasn't just the fact that Mahiru was a career woman who never wished for the responsibility and burden a child would bring. Finally having her suspicions confirmed and finding out to what extent her hatred went disturbed her.

"I was devastated when I heard that she had died. And by the hands of someone she loved and trusted wholeheartedly. Someone I also trusted. Something inside me broke that day. I didn't know what to do. And then you were thrust upon me." Mahiru finally met her gaze, eyes filled with an intense resentment as their frigid past was recalled, "I felt such a sense of responsibility to her that I took you in without question, without realising what that even meant."

"And what did it mean?" Michiko's words were breathless, not knowing if she wanted to hear the answer.

"I had to give up on my aspirations, all of the plans I had, to take care of you, a child I didn't even like. The work I put in to make something of myself, vying for promotions that would set me up for life. All of that work was reduced to nothing." The words were poison, the buildup of toxic waste that had brewed from five years of intense hostility, "I not only lost my best friend that day. I lost everything. And what did I get out of it?" Mahiru's expression suddenly twisted. Eyes narrowed, mouth curled hardly. With a sense of audacity that finally matched Michiko's, she towered over the younger, smaller girl, "I got a child who acted out at every turn, who only caused me trouble, who refused to fall in line. Every single time you got into trouble, I began to hate you even more. I wanted to be rid of you. I wished everyday that you would've turned out like your mother. Well-behaved and well-mannered. But look at who you are now. You are the very image of your father."

Michiko couldn't take it anymore, couldn't listen to the hatred that reeked in every word that left Mahiru's lips. "And whose fault is that?" She whispered harshly.

"What?" Mahiru had the nerve to look affronted at her interruption.

"Whose fault is it that I turned out that way?" Michiko spat the question out, returning Mahiru's venom tenfold, pulling her arm away from the older woman's tight grip. The knife teetered ever more on the precipice. The dam broke. And once it broke, it allowed all of the words she had repressed over the years to spill out.

"I was ten. I was ten, and had lost everything. You say you lost your best friend that day. Well, I lost both my mother and father at the same time. I lost any sense of stability I had in my life. I needed help. I wanted help. But you ignored everything! All of the pain and anger that I carried with me after that day, it was you who allowed it to fester and build. Did you never think that every action I took was a cry for help? A cry for attention. I was struggling but you were so caught up in your own selfishness that you never noticed, not once! Don't make this all about you. You have no right." The silence enveloped them, the negative words floating in the space and casting a deep shadow of wrath between the two of them.

"If we're in the business of being honest with each other here, then let me tell you this Michiko." Mahiru levelled her with a glare so dark, an expression Michiko had never seen displayed through her constant mask of the demure office worker, "I wish you had never been born. I wish you had never come into my care. I was thrilled when you disappeared from my life, because then at least it saved me all the trouble you brought. Everyday you were in my care, I wished it was you he killed and not her."

TAKANA MAHIRU HAS CHOSEN TRUTH. SHE HAS ANSWERED THE QUESTION HONESTLY.

The knife clattered over the edge, falling deep into the shadowy pit that lay beneath it. Blood drained from Michiko's head, her fury washed over into a freezing wave of incense. Through the numb, hazy state of mind that had overtaken her, the blade was plunged into Mahiru's neck. All of the resentment that had been built between them over the years finally came to a pique.

Michiko watched with deadened eyes as the woman choked on her own blood. Mahiru stared up at her, expression filled with shock and betrayal.

A gaping pit of emptiness consumed her, as the woman collapsed onto her knees, light slipping away from her eyes. The last image she saw before her death claimed her was Michiko's emotionless expression, the knife slipping from the girl's grasp, allowing the woman's body to fall limp to the ground.

The glacial fury that had ruptured from beneath the surface of Michiko's cracked armour was separate to the usual burning anger that had taken up permanent residence inside her. Michiko could never come back from the actions taken that night. That point in time, as she stood numbly over Mahiru's body was one that could never be escaped from. She had become utterly terrified of the version of herself that had emerged in that moment. Terrified of what she had turned into.

The disappointed gaze of Ichida weighed over her. He was there. Right in front of her. A ghost looking down at her blood-soaked form with heavy-hearted eyes. Right there, under the heavy weight of his despondency, she drowned in self-disgust. She had truly turned into the monster she'd always feared.

The chime sung like a taunting laugh.

NARA MICHIKO HAS CHOSEN DARE.

SHE HAS CARRIED OUT HER TASK SUCCESSFULLY.

♤♡◇♧

Chapter Text

DAY 13 - 14

♤♡◇♧

When Hamada Tsuyoshi met Endo Kirika, he concluded two things.

One. Someone had bottled the sun's rays and fed them into her smile. Her smile wasn't a wide grin full of bared teeth. No. It was a closed lip, dimple-inducing curl. But one could bask in the warmth it stoked in the body for all eternity. Or the fluttering trail of butterflies it left in the stomach. Kirika was a friendly creature, a bright reprieve in this cold, harsh world.

Two. She was never going to survive in this place.

During their car ride to the game venue - one full of questions and answers - Tsuyoshi quickly realised that Kirika's days were numbered. A countdown ticked away above her head - an inevitable fate for one that shined so brilliantly. Whether by the game's cruel hand, or by the Beach's displacement of reason, Endo Kirika would die. He couldn't see her making it through the night.

She proved him wrong.

Kirika had turned out to be a great team player. There was a determination thrumming through her that couldn't be doused. Her willingness to co-operate and take orders proved extremely useful for the clubs game they found themselves playing. Albeit a low-level clubs game. Perhaps his assessment may not be accurate in that case, considering the difficulty. Nonetheless her efforts had been appreciated.

They had breezed through the game - completing it with relative ease and returning to the Beach within the hour. A little over two hours later saw the last group stumbling through the gates. Mira's trio. When Tsuyoshi caught sight of the final newcomer traipsing by Mira's side, he found himself pleasantly surprised that she had survived Niragi. The erratic man had an atrocious habit of being extra violent-mannered towards newcomers. Perhaps the thrill of new blood stoked the predator within him.

Michiko - he thought that was her name at least - looked haunted. Like the last three hours had pulled at all of her strings so tight that she couldn't move or breath, before snipping each one simultaneously. She moved like a ghost, ignorant to the ravenous party animals that surrounded her - enthralled in the thrill of surviving another night. He lost sight of her as she quickly disappeared to the hotel's interior.

Mira and Niragi were the last of the executives to arrive. Meaning Tsuyoshi, the designated errand boy, was sent to gather the final wayward executive. And easily his least favourite after Niragi the demon himself. Kato Nobutoshi.

A man just as disgustingly vicious and disregarding of empathy as Niragi. The two clung to each other like glue - birds of a feather. Twins of a monstrous nature. Ugly beasts who had decided the world needed their particular brand of violence. Anybody caught up in their trail became victim to crimes of the most horrendous nature. He had stopped counting the bodies piled up in the bin out back, far from the sight of the rest of the Beach's citizens..

Tsuyoshi had developed a habit when he was young. A habit that had surprisingly come in handy when it came to adapting to this world. Adapting to killing. When it came to people he loathed with all his spirit, he liked to imagine them as the inhuman monsters he grew up reading about in stories. The ones who lacked human nature. Mindless, writhing forms with scales that belonged to a snake. Hideous, snarling fangs dripping ravenous drool. Leathery wings with elongated, spiked claws.

Imagining these beasts in the place of these repulsive, destitute, can't quite be called 'humans', made it easier to hate them. Easier to kill them if he had to. And there were times he had to.

.

Ears ringing from the tinny blaring of electronic music, Tsuyoshi weaved through the crowd, trying to not let the overcrowding bodies bury him in his agitation. People were never his strongest suit. That was more his sister's area of expertise. Like the universe had been eavesdropping on his thoughts, he caught sight of her wild hair flying as she jumped about to the music. She gulped from a cup full of whatever concoction had been made from whatever dangerous liquor the garden of deviants had gotten their hands on tonight.

Tsuyomi had taken to the Beach's lifestyle a lot easier than Tsuyoshi, swimming amongst the crowd effortlessly. The drink ravaging and the drug-fuelled rampages seemed to mitigate the terror of imminent death. If only a little. Tsuyoshi himself couldn't relate to his sister's desire for the manic-paced environment they now existed in.

Biting the inside of his lip in agitation, he pulled his eyes away from the unrestrained storm of Hamada Tsuyomi. Only to find a scene that churned his insides.

Kato Nobutoshi had found himself a new victim.

♤♡◇♧

The restless pacing hadn't been enough to ease Kirika's worries. Over two hours they had been back, and there was not a sign of Michiko bursting through the door of their shared room.

It was getting late. The party raged outside the window as more and more of the Beach's residents trickled back, enjoying another celebration of their own survival. But Kirika couldn't celebrate. Not yet. Her eyes kept flickering back to the clock on the nightstand. The big hand had just hit twenty minutes past eleven, and the seconds continued to whittle away. Closer and closer to midnight. The incessant ticking caused an itch inside her brain that couldn't be scratched.

If Michiko wasn't back by the time twelve o'clock rolled around, it would be safe to assume she was dead. She couldn't be dead.

The confines of the room suffocated her, and she gnawed on her thumbnail, eye twitching with the anxiety of the wait. Growing tired of the stifling heat, she stormed out the room. Perhaps the other girl had gotten swept up in the rowdiness of the pool party. She couldn't imagine the other girl willingly diving into the fold, but that didn't mean she couldn't have gotten tangled in the merriment by force.

Kirika roamed by the edges, searching through the pack of faceless bodies, searching for the one that shined through the darkness. The saviour from the hearts game who put a knife through the throat of the beast trying to kill her.

But she couldn't catch sight of her through the mindless swarm. Eyes trailing through the crowd, a repulsive disgust lurched through Kirika's stomach. These witless, foolish acolytes served a false god. Free to party. Free to drink, take drugs, have as much sex as you wanted. Free to give into your desires. Those were Hatter's words. These people believed they were free, but their indulgence was only exploited. They thought they were free, but they were only seduced into another system. There was always a system. Another drove of empty-headed ants swarming to their queen. Or king in this sense. The king of the Beach.

Kirika hated it. She was stuck in yet another system she couldn't escape.

Another false sense of freedom and a world that profited off it. The fall of humanity and moral codes, that's what this world wanted. It tested the bounds of human nature, and how far people were willing to go for their own survival. People would deceive. People would hurt. People would kill. The violence was this world's purpose. Kirika had been here for nine days and that much was clear.

They were all selfish. Except one. Two, if she counted Mr. Nakajima. But he was dead now. He had perished in an act of utter selflessness and Kirika admired him for it. The most noble of heroes, his character had stayed true until he drew his last breath. In a way, Kirika was glad he had died when he did. He would've also despised this place. And Kirika would've hated to see his noble nature stripped and torn apart, reshaped into something more ghastly.

Then there was Michiko. When Kirika had been sent into that first game, she had no idea what she would find there. But she had never imagined her. Michiko was brash and sullen and not at all good. She was beautifully terrible. She may protest otherwise, but she was also selfless. In the hearts game, as Kirika struggled blindly under a man three times her weight, fumbling fruitlessly at the hands that tried to rip her to pieces, Michiko could've run the other direction. Instead, blood had spilled - hot and sticky - onto Kirika's shirt, and the man had choked on the blade Michiko had shoved in his neck. In that moment she was radiant. An angel of death. Her angel of death.

Kirika desired freedom. To be rid of the shackles that held her down. Her parents. Her best friend's death. This unforgiving world. In her eyes, Michiko grasped for that freedom with fingers that didn't quite reach their mark. She was so very close. There was something holding her back from achieving it. And Kirika was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery called Michiko. Perhaps, they could be each other's freedom. Break each other's chains.

Kirika would like that.

Which was why, with every minute that trickled towards midnight, the unceasing worry grew with no sign of the other girl.

Kirika turned around. And collided harshly with a semi-bare chest.

When Kirika faced unknown situations, she had a tendency to revert back to the teachings of her mother. Be demure, respectful, unassuming. In this savage garden where reason was lost, you never knew who you might come across. Danger lurked around every corner. Being unassuming could mean survival.

Lowering her eyes, she bowed her head slightly, "Sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you."

"That's alright," It was a man's voice, deep and lilting, "I don't mind pretty girl's bumping into me."

A finger slotted itself under her chin, sending crackles of ice running over her skin. Gulping uneasily, her head was lifted until she met his gaze. Black hair brushing the tops of his eyebrows. The face underneath had a youthful, boyish charm. But it was his eyes that sent apprehensiveness running through her. They were disconcerting. They were hungry.

"Does the pretty bird have a name?" He asked.

Suppressing her shiver, Kirika mumbled her answer, "Endo Kirika."

"En-do Ki-ri-ka." The man tilted his head thoughtfully as he sounded it out, "Hmm, I think I'm just going to call you by your first name if that's alright? No need for courtesies when the world has no rules, eh, Kirika?" She hated the way her name spilled from his lips, the way he drew out every syllable.

Meanwhile the wandering hand trailed from under her chin, down her neck and across her shoulder, teasing at her bikini string. His hand was like an iron, burning her skin but not in a pleasant way. In a way that threatened to consume her whole. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. The music surrounding them became distantly quiet, just an afterthought in the back of Kirika's mind as she questioned what to do.

"You're friends with Niragi's little mouse, aren't you?" The eyes that had followed his straying hand flickered back to hers, the hunger in them heightening.

"Niragi's mouse?" Kirika questioned, the nauseous pit in her stomach growing with that thought. Michiko wasn't Niragi's anything.

The man nodded, "Mmhm. He's been ranting about her nonstop since she arrived. He wants her dead I think," He shrugged nonchalantly, as if they weren't discussing his friend wanting to kill hers, "But he won't yet. Not yet. Niragi likes the hunt, you see. And so do I." His lips tilted, curling into a menacing smirk, and he leaned in. Close enough that she could taste his rancid breath laced with the sharp tang of vodka. She tried pulling back but the sudden, bruising grip on her shoulder prevented her. "We just like to hunt for different things. How about we have a drink?" He nodded his head toward the outside bar.

Kirika shook her head slightly, "No thanks."

The man pouted, like a petulant child, "Aww come on Kirika, relax a little. Let's have some fun, you and me."

Attempting to rip her shoulder from the man's burning grasp, she shook her head with more force, "I don't drink, I'm underage." She hoped that fact would put him off coming after her, but instead, his smirk widened.

"As if that matters. This world doesn't have rules."

Lips quivering, Kirika looked up at the man, trying to channel just a little of Michiko's defiant spirit, "I'm not interested in being part of your hunts."

The man's smirk fell, twisting into an annoyed sneer. The grip became crushing. He scoffed, "You don't- Do you have any idea who I am? You should be begging for my attention. Here I am being nice just handing it to you and you just spit-"

"Nobutoshi." A boyish voice called out, shattering the tense atmosphere that had been created between prey and predator. The music picked itself back up as both heads turned. Off to the side stood Tsuyoshi. His shaggy hair stood up in wayward strands and there was a glint of concern in his eyes as they passed between the bodies before him.

"What, brat? Can't you see I'm in the middle of something." Nobutoshi spat, keeping his iron hold on Kirika's shoulder.

Tsuyoshi didn't back down from the agitated tone, merely stood there and levelled his eyes onto the other man. Kirika picked up the slightest twitch in them. After a short pause he finally spoke, "The last group has just come back, Hatter's just called in the meeting to discuss the newcomers with the rest of the executives. You're needed now. You can get back to your... hobbies later."

There was an underlying tone of disgust at the word hobbies. Kirika got the impression that this was a recurring habit of Nobutoshi's. Preying on young, seemingly vulnerable girls. It made her sick.

Nobutoshi's hand lifted from his shoulder as he threw them up in surrender, tilting his head, "Fine, fine. Don't get your panties in a twist 'Yoshi. We were just having some fun." He chucked a wink Kirika's way, and she folded her arms uncomfortably, averting her gaze from him.

"Nobutoshi." Tsuyoshi said again, tone edging on demanding now.

Huffing a sigh, Nobutoshi pulled away, before strolling towards the boy. Stopping, he threw back one last remark over his shoulder, "See you around, pretty bird." As he passed Tsuyoshi, he bumped the shorter boy's shoulder roughly, before storming away.

Tsuyoshi's eyes met hers, and that flicker of concern once again ran through them. His foot stepped forward, as if he wanted to come towards her. To check if she was alright. Instead, he pressed his lips together tightly, before following after the stalking beast. Kirika watched them go, reaching up and rubbing at the shoulder Nobtoshi's hand had encompassed. It still burned. She wanted nothing more than a cold shoulder to wash away the wretched fingerprints he'd left behind.

But there were more pressing matters. Tsuyoshi had mentioned the final group being back. That meant, unless she had died in the games, Michiko was now back at the Beach. She couldn't imagine Michiko ever letting the games kill her. She was much too hard-headed and stubborn. Which meant she was somewhere in these halls.

So Kirika went to find her.

♤♡◇♧

Tsuyoshi was used to people seeing right through him. Acting like he didn't exist. Like he was unimportant. It was the natural cause of having a star athlete older sister.

Tsuyomi was going to go to The University of Tokyo to train in track and field. Hurdles were her specialty, but she was an excellent runner as well. She had won all the gold medals she possibly could in high school championships. One day she would represent Japan at the Olympics.

He'd heard all of this and more growing up.

And what did Tsuyoshi ever do with his life? He had his head stuck in his books, in his fantasies. Whilst Tsuyomi gained popularity, Tsuyoshi had been stuck in the background of a story where she was the main character. He was just the weird younger brother.

The only time he'd ever ranked above her in life was when the Beach had been formed. As the meeting progressed around him, the executives discussing the new members and their achievements in the game, Tsuyoshi's eyes remained on the locker key at his wrist. Number Eleven, he ranked. Just outside of the executive margin.

But due to his closeness to Aguni, it granted him and his sister certain privileges. He got to attend meetings, just like Arata - one of Hatter's favourite non-executives. The older man kept the generators running single handedly. His engineering skills had granted him a seat at the table - figuratively - despite being ranked one place below Tsuyoshi.

He was also in attendance. The executives sat around their long table, Hatter in his place at the end, the wall of painted cards at his back, just over half crossed out. Aguni sat opposite him, the rest along the lengths. The militants had stuck together on one side whilst Hatter's loyalists sat opposite. An obvious mark of the tension between the two factions. The only outlier was Last Boss, who had opted to stand behind his own seat - back against the wall, forearms over the hilt of his katana.

Tsuyoshi stood behind Aguni's seat, just to the left. Stuck between him and Niragi. Arata stood, his opposite, at Hatter's back. Two court jesters to two rival kings, that's often how Tsuyoshi imagined himself and the other man. Favoured enough to keep close yet not as valuable as the royal advisors and knights that were offered a seat.

If one of these people were to succumb to the games, Tsuyoshi would be the next in line. The new number Ten. The idea caused him some apprehension. He had survived a lot at just sixteen. He had dodged lasers, bullets, worked out illogical puzzles, fashioned weapons out of whatever materials he could find discarded when the Beach was nothing more than a distant idea in the head of an idealistic man. But he didn't know if he would survive sitting beside the savage cunning and the quiet war of the Beach's executives.

Discussion was swift regarding Kirika. Tsuyoshi was only called to speak to back up Aguni's claims. She did adequately, that was the jist of it. That was all that needed to be said. So he said it and turned invisible yet again. The executives immediate interest lay in the other two.

"Chishiya did very well." Kuzuryuu claimed, "It was a diamonds game we played, quite a high level one. He showed an aptitude for it just as we expected, and figured out a solution quickly. He thought logically and stayed calm in the face of threat," Tsuyoshi caught a flicker of unease behind Arata's haze, just off of Kuzuryuu's shoulder, "even with the water rising, he stayed level-headed. The only area he fell short was the final answer, which was a specific area of knowledge he didn't know well."

Kuzuryuu's head turned to Arata, everyone else's gaze following, before he continued, "Luckily for us, it was an area of Arata's expertise, which cinched our survival in the end."

Arata's shoulders shrunk under the sudden attention, a faint flush creeping up his neck. Hatter's arm reached up and clapped him on the shoulder, "Well done, my boy. Always knew you had it in you."

A quiet scoff reached Tsuyoshi's ears, and his gaze flickered briefly to Niragi at his right. The man's face was twisted in an ugly sneer. It was an expression that Tsuyoshi was convinced was permanently etched onto his face whenever he came across something he found particularly disdainful.

It was Arata speaking that brought his gaze back to the man. "Chishiya did most of the work. If it weren't for him I wouldn't have discovered the answer in the end."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, I'm sure you were a valuable asset." Tsuyoshi never understood Hatter's fascination with Arata. Yes, the man was essential in the daily running of the Beach. It was his skill that got the generators up and running, gave the beach power. Then, instead of indulging in the utopia's proclivities, he opted to stay huddled in the basement, keeping the generators maintained and watching the camera's. His solitude only worsened when his friends died, one of them by Hatter's own hands. It had strained the already unsteady relationship between the two.

Arata was everything Hatter wasn't. Meek, quiet and kept to himself. Yet, the Beach's leader was somehow drawn to the man, keeping him safe from Niragi's bullying. He claimed that Arata was too useful to the Beach to lose, yet, anyone with a modicum of skill in engineering could keep the generators maintained. Maybe he was trying to make up for his actions - Hatter did kill his close friend after all. That was something not easily forgivable. Sometimes, when he was paying close enough attention, Tsuyoshi would catch a flicker of regret hidden behind Hatter's brazen mask whenever his gaze landed on Arata.

"If I may," Kuzuryuu's voice interrupted Tsuyoshi's musings, and everyone turned to him once again, "Back to Chishiya. He's clever, and he has a logical mind. It may be bold of me to say, but I believe he has executive potential."

"A recommendation from Number Two himself, that holds some weight." Hatter nodded, his head tilted back to Arata, "What do you say Arata, you said you've played with him before?"

Arata nodded. "Yes. His and Michiko's first game. Haj- Hajime, Mika and I played with the two of them." His voice choked around his friends' names slightly, "Whilst he stood back and let Michiko take the reins, I did watch him closely. I got the impression that he knew all of the answers the whole way through. He's highly observant, that was my immediate impression. He analyzed every single detail in that building. The same with the Hangman game. His methods were almost dissecting. I believe Kuzuryuu is right in his assessment."

"Very well," Hatter addressed the rest of the table, "I trust both of your opinions. What's the highest number we can give him?"

"We did lose number Thirteen. He was in the game with me tonight. Considering numbers One through Twelve are all currently in this room, that's the highest number currently on the board." Akari, number Ten said. She was a highly adept player who was an accountant in the old world. With her proclivity for numbers, she kept an eye on the Beach's population, always keeping note of what numbers were lost to the games and what numbers were available for new recruits.

"Very well," Hatter nodded, "He shall be the new number Thirteen." He proclaimed with a jovial smile.

Tsuyoshi caught his protest in his throat. Currently, Tsuyomi held the number Fourteen spot, so by default, she should've been moved to number Thirteen. Just two spots behind him. But if he voiced his thoughts, that would be a slight against Hatter. And Hatter didn't take kindly to people going against his word. Particularly in front of others.

Tsuyoshi didn't want to be labelled a traitor, so he kept his lips sealed out of necessity. Just as he always did.

Tsuyomi would be upset that a newcomer had stolen her spot from under her, but she would have to blow off her anger in the privacy of their room, or on the dancefloor by the pool.

"Onto the next subject of this meeting. The last newcomer, Michiko, how did she fare? Mira, Niragi, either of you want to let me know what happened in your game." Hatter moved on.

Mira sat up impossibly straighter from her already elegant posture, her shoulder brimming with masked excitement. "Oh, she did quite wonderfully out there. The game - as we suspected - was a hearts game." Her head tilted toward Aguni, "I had high hopes when you said she figured out the solution to her last hearts game. The solution was quite simple to this one, but when it did come down to it, she was naturally vicious when she needed to be."

Niragi huffed out a laugh, muttering under his breath. Hatter turned toward the man, and although he couldn't see behind the dark lenses of his glasses, Tsuyoshi could picture Hatter's eyes narrowing. "Something you would like to add, Niragi?" He asked.

"Hm?" Niragi met his gaze with a defiant edge, before smirking, "The little mouse had quite the sharp set of claws. I saw her manage to take down a man twice her size. No without struggle of course, but it was rather impressive. She's got quite the ferocious streak."

"Then she stabbed a woman that was part of the game to death. I think they may have known each other before this world. She's quite the cold-blooded creature. If a little impulsive." Mira continued.

Hatter hummed in interest, considering their words. In the main hall before the game, Tsuyoshi had met Michiko briefly. Short, with delicate features that were frozen in a seemingly permanent frown - as if all the sorrows in the world had been planted on her slight shoulders. Long hair the colour of dark chocolate. Her eyes reflected the same shade. Eyes that were dull, like a spark had been extinguished inside them, that no one had ever been able to relight.

With his generally overactive imagination, Tsuyoshi tried to visualise that girl, blood-streaking like rubies across her pale skin, folded into the creases in her fingers, stuck underneath her nails. It was difficult. He couldn't picture such a pretty face turned so ugly.

It was easier to picture people like Niragi and Nobutoshi as those monsters, as he witnessed their acts of violence himself. When it came to someone he barely knew, it was a far more difficult image to envision.

"I would like her to join the militants." Aguni spoke up, voice deep and steady. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest and his expression stony.

His demand was met with a gaping silence. Hatter stared across the table, mouth gawking in surprise. Mira's eyes had narrowed imperceptibly, and Niragi sneered, scratching at the back of his neck, muttering in disbelief. Those were the only expressions Tsuyoshi caught before Hatter responded, "You- You want her for the militants? A fifteen year old girl?" His face took on an expression of consideration, mouth pulling to the side, "That's quite the bid."

"She has the right nature for it." Was all Aguni said in response. He was always a man of few words.

"Well, unless any of the other's have any objections?" Hatter's covered eyes scanned the table. Based on the clench of his jaw, Arata wanted to speak up in opposition. But his own lack of a seat had him holding his tongue just like Tsuyoshi.

"If I may-" Mira leaned forward in her seat, "We have so little hearts specialists at the Beach. This girl has shown a keen aptitude for them. I would hate to see her talents squandered under the impulsive savagery of the militants."

In their chairs, Niragi and Nobutoshi, bristled. Sitting up straighter, there was a click as Niragi clutched at his rifle. "Do you want to say that again? Call me savage to my face bitch."

"I just did." Niragi's response to Mira's quip was immediate.

He flew from his seat, but before he could lift his gun, a calm bark from Aguni stopped him in his tracks, "Niragi! Sit back down." Seething, Niragi blew a breath from his nostrils and slowly sat back down.

Like someone had placed a pin in a balloon, the rest of the executives let down a collective, relieved breath. The tension released from Tsuyoshi's shoulders. No one wanted to break the uneasy silence that had settled over the group.

Hatter was the exception, "Please keep your people under control, Aguni. Particularly in meetings."

Niragi scoffed, but otherwise stayed quiet. Silence befell the room again, thick and writhing.

Until Arata displayed a bravery Tsuyoshi hadn't ever seen from him. "Can I- Can I speak?"

Hatter tilted his head to him, "Of course, Arata, you know I value your opinion."

"Well, from what I heard happened in her first hearts game, I don't think it's a good idea to place her in the militants." Arata began.

"And why not?" Aguni questioned, settling Arata with a stern gaze that was silently telling him to back off from the issue.

Shoulders wilting slightly under the gaze, Arata did his best not to let Aguni intimidate him into silence. Tsuyoshi found himself mentally applauding his efforts. Aguni was a very imposing figure. "Well, there was someone in the game she cared about right? And Niragi killed that guy."

Niragi - like someone had flipped a switch - began snickering, "And what of it?"

"Well, you said she's impulsive right?" Arata turned his focus to Mira, who nodded in return, serene smile still plastered on her face despite the threat to her life mere moments ago, "Well, Niragi killed someone she cared about, and you want to put her in the same squad as him, and give her access to a weapon? It just doesn't seem like the best idea."

Silence followed Arata's claim.

"What?" And of course it was Niragi who shattered it, "You think she can actually do something against me? What do you take me for?"

"I don't say it out of concern for you." Arata responded. He tried to keep her voice steady, but Tsuyoshi heard the slight tremble in it. His attention swivelled back to Mira, ignoring Niragi's annoyed grumbling, "You said there's very few hearts specialists. Then we don't want her making any impulsive choices that would force us to get rid of her, such as trying to take revenge on someone who killed someone she cared about. I fear that if she were placed under the militants that's exactly what would happen." When his reasoning was met with a nerve-wracking silence, Arata gulped, "That's just my impression anyway."

Humming, Hatter nodded, "Arata makes a good point. I'm sorry Aguni but with everything in consideration, I don't think I can give you this one."

The slight clench of his jaw might have been imperceptible to anyone else, but Tsuyoshi had become adept at reading Aguni's expressions. A skill that had been born from trying to emulate the man's stern countenance. Tsuyoshi didn't know what had him so frustrated. Was it being undermined by someone as inconsequential as Arata, or did Aguni have further motives for bringing Michiko under militant thumb?

He would have to question him later, under less watchful eyes.

"Well, I believe that concludes things. Chishiya, our new number thirteen, classed as diamonds specialist. And Michiko, give her whatever number is next available, hearts specialists are some of our most valuable players. And, eh, the other one, sounds like a club specialist. Give her whatever number you want. With that, this meeting is adjourned. Go have fun."

And with that, the fate of the newcomers was decreed.

♤♡◇♧

There was never a time where Tsuyoshi had participated in the Beach's nightly festivities. He understood Hatter's intentions behind throwing the parties every night. The horrors of the games stuck inside your head, and most people wanted an excuse to forget them.

But Tsuyoshi needed to remember what he was facing. He didn't want to forget the dangers they were constantly under. In the games. At the Beach. Just by simply living in this world. And he never wanted to forget what he was fighting to go back to. And what he wanted to save.

When he made it back to his and Tsuyomi's room - intending to hide in his den for the rest of the night and read his latest acquisition - he huffed an irritated sigh at the mess.

Tsuyomi, in her haste to celebrate once the games were over, had failed to clean up her bed. The sheets were crumpled. Discarded clothes lay across the duvet. Cellophane snack wrappers were bundled in random piles. On her bedside table lay a mosaic of green and brown glass, the empty beer bottles she never got rid of.

When she came back, drunk and most likely high out of her mind, she would complain about having to clean up before hitting the sack. Tsuyoshi had grown tired of her complaining.

He had just finished laying down the duvet neatly when the door burst open. A blur of long brown hair and pale skin rushed into the bathroom before the retching started.

Closing his eyes in resignation, Tsuyoshi rubbed at them. It was like clockwork at this point. As if the games weren't stressful enough - having to fight like a dog in a pit in order to survive - Tsuyoshi had also fallen into the role of playing the elder brother, despite the fact that Tsuyomi was two years his senior.

But if she wasn't going to be the responsible one, that title would have to fall on Tsuyoshi's shoulders. And heavy is the head that wears the crown.

When he entered the bathroom, the acidic smell had begun permeating the air. Tsuyomi was curled up over the toilet bowl, overcome in another round of choking out an amalgamation of whatever drinks she had indulged and whatever substances she had drowned herself in that night.

Tsuyomi had fallen into this pit fairly quickly after the Beach's establishment, the temptation of the forbidden fruit becoming too much for an already fragile mind. All sense of being the older sibling had slipped freely from her head. And now, every single night it was Tsuyoshi who held back her hair. It was Tsuyoshi who rubbed her back. It was Tsuyoshi who helped her to bed and left water and painkillers on her bedside table every night.

All because she was his sister and he loved her. Despite the fact that he felt she had abandoned him in a sense, he still loved her. And he would always take care of her.

Kneeling down next to her, he fisted her hair up against the back of her skull, looking away and holding his breath as she finished.

She mumbled a garbled 'thank you'. Tsuyoshi hummed in reply.

"Go clean your teeth." He told her, rubbing her back and pulling her to the sink.

He handed her a wad of toilet roll and she dabbed at the tears that had strained from her eyes as she brushed her teeth languidly.

Distant eyes watched herself in the mirror, dissociative and blank. Not entirely there. From his place leaning against the wall, Tsuyoshi pulled his eyes away from her, biting his tongue over the words he wanted to say. They'd had the same argument over and over about her behaviour. He was too tired to throw barbed words and jaded quips back and forth until she was pushed out to the door and into the deceptively welcoming embrace of substance abuse yet again.

Instead, he helped her into bed, pulled out the basin that was kept underneath her bed for these exact situations, and set a glass of water and painkillers on her bedside table.

"Thank you, 'Yoshi," she mumbled, her eyes drooping as she clutched the pillow tight.

"Yeah, yeah, go to sleep 'Yomi."

As she drifted off into a sleep no doubt plagued with freakish nightmares, Tsuyoshi sat on the bed beside her. A huff slipped through his nose as he pushed her fringe back, the parasitic heat from her forehead leeching onto his skin.

He understood her need to drown out the nightmares. He had them himself. He just didn't understand her need to destroy herself. But Tsuyomi only ever did things on her own terms. Tsuyoshi could do nothing but be a bystander as her story played out.

Rewriting what she had already written was out of the question. He had tried. Many times. But there was a chance he could nudge her to write a different tale. Or he could write his own narrative where she survived this world, and went back home. That would be his story. A story where the one person he needed most lived.

Whatever path he took, there was one thing Tsuyoshi was certain of.

The story would not end with her death.

Chapter Text

DAY 14

♤♡◇♧

The passage of time was a distant thought that lived just on the outskirts of her mind. It ran too fast. Moved too slowly. Lay at a standstill. The humming of the generators was a ticking clock, a fixed constant that ran through her ears. It brought little to no comfort.

As the adrenaline settled, the ache in her throat returned tenfold. If she looked at herself in the mirror, there would no doubt be a painting of black, purple and blue rippling across her neck. In the shape of hands. But it was something she couldn't see. So she tried to put the thought of it out of her head. She could still feel it though. The throbbing. The burning. The ghost of the hands around her neck. Choking and choking and choking the life out of her.

She had to distract herself with something else, but the only other thing she had to look at was the crimson staining her hands. It ran up her arms. Arteries outside of the skin. No doubt it was also dried into her clothes. Briefly she wondered if it would be better to try and wash the stains out, or bin the items altogether.

The basement of the hotel had become a necessary sanctuary to escape the raging noise outside. It had threatened to engulf her when she returned to the Beach. She had to escape it any way possible before she succumbed to the creeping panic.

Her memory was a sticky, messy picture of bits and pieces from after the knife was thrust into Mahiru's neck. She couldn't really recall returning to the Beach at all. But there were fragments. There were feelings. There was a deep, recurring self-loathing whenever she looked back.

There was the fragment of Mahiru's death. The movie played over and over again. The knife sticking out of her neck. The woman slowly choking and gurgling on her own blood as she crumpled to the floor. The sickening shing of the knife slipping back out of her flesh as she clutched at her wound. The body going still. Over and over again. On repeat.

It was the very picture she had seen her father in - all of those years ago. Only, Michiko had replaced him in the image. The poisonous genetics that had been passed down through her bloodline had finally taken root. The curse had settled in.

The next fragment had her numbly making her way back to the reception area, the burning anger that she had experienced minutes before settling into an icy hatred. For Mahiru. For her father for making her this way.

For herself for becoming everything she ever despised.

Only three of them remained. Mira, Niragi and herself. Her hatred for the monster had been dimmed in the light of her hatred for herself in that moment. All of the other players had been eliminated. Either by the games hands, or by the hands of those who still unfairly survived. The only one who came out with clean hands was Mira, who had stuck to honesty as she had suggested in the beginning. The solution to all of them living. But the selfish nature of others, herself included, had cost six lives that night.

That's what it meant to play a hearts game.

Michiko was beginning to understand the nature of this world a little more.

Already she struggled at seeing herself in the mirror, her reflection causing memories to resurface she would've preferred to cast out for all eternity. To thrust them into an empty sea, never to emerge again. Because every single time she looked at herself she saw his face. She now felt an entirely new disgust for herself, far more sickening than what she experienced everytime she looked in the mirror.

She was beginning to realise that she already had the penchant for violence. It lived dormant inside her veins and this world had merely brought out the inner beast inside her that disregarded human life.

Things were supposed to be simple at fifteen. In another life they may have been. But they no longer were.

Nothing hadn't been simple or easy since she was ten years old. How she wished she could go back to those painless times where the world was a wondrous thing and reality wasn't something she had to fear. Not yet. A time where she could live in her child-like curiosity, head in the clouds without a single care.

But that sort of peace wasn't an option for her anymore.

The next fragment. They arrived back at the Beach, celebrations already in full swing. The noise of the music, the screaming and shouting. It was all-encompassing. Mira quickly reminded Niragi that the executives were gathering to consolidate the talents of their promising new arrivals. The woman turned to Michiko, "With the way you've performed tonight, you can expect yourself to wake up with a much higher position in the Beach."

Michiko didn't give a shit. Everything was pointless. This whole place, the efforts they were making. Hatter's claims were bullshit. Even if she did get home, Michiko could never go back to being the same person she was. This world had already changed her far too much. How could she dare to go back and live with her actions after tonight? The memories would linger, haunting her every step. The violence would be lying in wait, ready to burst out at the wrong moment. What if she repeated her actions in the real world? She would be locked up inside a prison cell for the rest of her life just like him.

Everyone around her went on as if everything was okay. Hopped up on their alcohol and drug fuelled rampages, living life as if things were right with the world. She wondered for a moment if she was the only one who saw things the way they were. Saw the truth. She remained the sole witness to the horror and the reality of this world and the disaster it brought, while they all escaped into their feral wildness. Ignoring what truly went on like all of these people did... She couldn't imagine herself ever living that way.

Going back to her room was out of the question. She could hardly face Kirika in this state. Kirika was everything that was good and kind and right about the world. Michiko didn't deserve that kind of brightness.

So she sought out a place of solace. A place of solitude. The basement drowned out the noise. It blocked out the people outside. It was dimly lit, a tight space that was filled with a blanketing warmth thanks to the thrumming generators. A wave of calmness finally washed over her.

And the tears began. There was no gasping. No heaving sobs. Just quiet streams of water falling down her cheeks. She wasn't quite aware of them, just aware of the wetness. Her consciousness sat just a little outside of her brain; far enough away to lose herself, close enough that she still felt. She sat herself down against the wall, fidgeting with her hands, twisting at her mother's ring in an attempt to bring herself some form of comfort, wrapped up in her self-loathing.

What would her mother think of her?

What would Kirika think of her?

What would Ichida think of her?

She could see him now, sitting across from her. Tired eyes, dark circles underneath. They were locked onto her, his brow furrowed into deep engraved lines. A disappointment was in his gaze that was far worse than any angry words he could spit. Michiko wanted him to yell, to scream, to call her a monster. It would've been better than feeling so small under his discontent.

Michiko looked down, placing her stare back onto the crusting blood, beginning to scratch it off. Anything to avoid that disappointed glare.

"Do you think by avoiding it it'll make it go away?" She had missed his voice but she didn't want to hear it in that tone. Disheartened and dead.

"I don't know." She responded, "I'd like to think it might." If she could avoid thinking about the issues in her head maybe then they'd disappear. But the mind didn't work that way. Things liked to linger. Parasites that leeched off the bad stuff.

"I don't think it works that way." Ichida reflected her thoughts out loud.

Michiko shook her head, fresh tears springing to her eyes, "What do I do?" She looked up at him, his expression hadn't shifted, "Please tell me what to do. Like you always did."

But this version of Ichida had only been conjured in her mind, brought into vision outside of it. She didn't know what to do, so he didn't either. He had no sagely wisdom ready for her like he usually did. Instead, the only thing he said was, "You look like him." The words shot a bolt of lightning through her heart. She gulped, throat quivering.

"Like who?" Michiko already knew. But she wanted to hear him say it. Confirm that that's what he thought of her. That's what she thought of herself.

"Like your father."

"I'm not." It was a hard lie to cornice herself of, because she knew the truth.

"You know that you do. You've become exactly like him. You've become a murderer just like him." The truth was in his words but a knife shot through Michiko to hear him say it, as sharp as the one she'd thrust into Mahiru's neck. To hear the voice that had always told her she was different from him - that she wasn't the same monster he was - say otherwise.

"I- I haven't."

"You have. Don't try to convince yourself otherwise. His blood runs through your veins and you're only going to become even more like him if you continue down this pat-"

"Michiko?" A new voice interrupted, the poison that was Ichida's words. The poison that was her own thoughts.

Michiko's head snapped to the entryway. Arata stood, hand resting against the doorway, glancing at her with concern behind his glasses.

An uncomfortably long staring contest passed between them, Michiko's heart picking up the pace after it had leapt in surprise at his intrusion. She broke the connection when she glanced back to the wall opposite her. Ichida was gone, but his presence lingered in the empty space left behind. Pressing her lips tight together, Michiko looked down. When she caught her crimson stained hands, she turned away again, not quite knowing where to look.

"Are- are you okay?" Arata hadn't moved from beside the doorway. Hastily her hand wiped at her cheeks, rubbing away the wetness but most likely leaving flecks of dried blood behind in their place.

"I'm fine." She mumbled out. Both people in the room knew how far from the truth that statement was. Michiko was not fine.

The older man came and sat down next to her, allowing them to settle in the silence. He waited a long moment before speaking up again. "I heard from Mira about what happened in the game. I'm sorry you had to go through all that."

"You don't have to apologise. You did nothing to me." She couldn't meet his eyes, knowing that if she did, she would crumble. She refused to allow herself to crumble. If she did, people would see the broken pieces inside of her. Her facade of emotional invulnerability was all she had. If she lost that, she would have nothing left but to rot in her despair.

"Still, you shouldn't have had to live through that. This world seems to be unbearably cruel to the better people." Michiko had heard this statement before. Ichida had something similar back on that balcony. When she had broken down in his arms and he'd attempted to pick the pieces back up. Only Michiko wasn't one of the better people like Arata seemed to think. She was one of the worst. "That seems to be the nature of this place. The people with an actual moral code are the ones who suffer and those that don't thrive. It's kind of unfair."

It was. But that was the way of things. This world necessitated the abandonment of morality in order to survive. Michiko looked down and picked at her hands, scratching off the red crusts. "I think that's exactly what this place wants. Whoever's out there watching us is pulling the strings and laughing when we fall."

"Who do you think is out there?" Arata asked.

Shrugging, Michiko answered, "I don't know. But there has to be someone out there, planning things.. A game master or some shit."

"Do you want to find out?"

"Maybe."

Arata's next question made her pause. "What would you do if you found them?" She didn't know. Part of her wanted to kill them. They had pushed her to the edges of hell and back. She had tasted the licking flames, felt their scorching heat ravage her skin. She had become a fury of the Underworld. A harbinger of death. This world had turned her that way.

The other part of her just wanted to ask 'why?'.

What was their goal in putting her through all of this? Putting them all through what they had experienced.

"I don't know," She eventually replied, "What would you do?"

Shaking his head, Arata leaned further into the wall, "I don't know either. Would maybe beg them to give back Hajime and Mika. But I know that's not possible."

The people lost to this world were gone forever. No amount of begging, wishing or praying would ever give their lives back. Hajime was gone. So was Mika.

So was Ichida.

Most people in this place would follow soon enough. It was a morbid thought, but a realistic one. Not everyone had the necessary violence that lived in their veins to claw their way through no man's land. Not like Michiko did. She wondered how long it would be before the next person was gone. How long would it take for the man sitting next to her to succumb to the games? How long would it take for Kirika's spark to be snuffed out? Would she be shot? Stabbed? Laser through the head?

Michiko looked back down at her hands, "Do you think what I did was right?"

She could sense the heat of Arata's stare turn to her, "What do you mean by that?"

"I could've told the truth. The game was so easy to complete. I could've done that instead. But I didn't want to. And the dare it gave me... 'Take revenge on someone who's wronged you'. Niragi was right there. I could've done it, I was so close. But then she interfered and my chance was gone and I was angry and then she told the truth and deep down I already knew what she really thought of me but hearing it in that moment- and then- and then the anger just took over and I-" She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe and she was scratching at her hands. The blood that had dried on them, she wanted it off. She wanted it off now.

There was nothing else there. No generator room. No humming. No Arata sat beside her who she had just spilled her guts to. It was just her and the blood on her hands and she wanted it off.

The pain didn't register as she kept raking her nails over the skin. She just wanted the blood off no matter what it took. Her vision was tunneled onto them, nothing around her existed anymore and all she could hear was her own ragged breathing as she desperately tried to complete her mission.

Hands were on her shoulders and she shoved them off, "Get off me!"

"Hey hey hey, okay- okay, I won't touch you. But you need to stop that, you'll only hurt yourself." Arata's voice, laced with a concerned panic, reached past the tinny echo of her breath in her ears. He held his hands out in a placating gesture, a worried grimace twisting at his usual frown.

His posture screamed docile, which brought a little comfort to the frantic animal scurrying around inside Michiko's head, pushing against the edges of her mind. This man in front of her was not a threat. He wasn't going to hurt her. It was just Arata.

When the relative safeness registered in her mind she glanced back down at her hands.

Underneath the crusty layer of brownish-red, her hands were scratched raw enough that inflamed pink peeked through. The stinging came next and she winced slightly, "I just- I just wanted it off."

"Okay, that's alright." Arata breathed, keeping his voice to low tones, his words skimming underneath the hum of the generators, "We can- we can do that. Just wait here for a second. I'll be back."

Michiko arched her head back up and he was gone. He slipped out the door quickly, back into the shadowed hallway of the basement level. Michiko was left alone again. The shadows moved, shifting closer and threatening to swallow her whole. She didn't want to be left alone in this room, where the ghosts sat outside of her mind.

It was Mahiru this time. She stood in the corner silently, a physical spectre manifested of Michiko's guilt. Her eyes were focused on Michiko's hands, on the half-scratched off blood. "You deserve this pain. You deserve to feel everything we felt."

There was a ball full of knots inside Michiko's throat. She gulped, trying to swallow it but it wouldn't go back down. It sat stubbornly, the pressure of it forcing a quiver to her lip.

Footsteps echoed through the basement, and she dragged her eyes away from Mahiru to the door, where Arata reappeared. In his hands was a roughspun cloth. He approached her gently - as if she were a skittish mouse - kneeling three feet before the edge of her shoes. Shoes that were also stained red.

He offered a hand out, spotted with callouses, and waited patiently. A tender invitation. He didn't force her. Didn't grab her hand without permission. Instead he waited for her to accept his offer, to take things at her own pace.

The safeness of his gesture was foreign. It was something she hadn't often experienced. She was used to Ichida's hand encompassing her shoulder. To Mahiru grabbing her by the shoulder of her hoodie to drag her across the doorstep. The warmth of Kirika's fingers in hers. She had come to not mind the girl's more brazen approach, often clutching onto Michiko's arm like a terrified puppy. But sometimes the unexpected touch still itched.

No one had ever let her take the first step. To place her hand in theirs of her own volition.

She reached out - tentatively - slight tremor still in her fingers, and placed her hand in his. Neither of their hands were soft. Both rough with marks of their lifestyles. The extra layer of crust only added to it.

Still moving slowly, Arata lifted the cloth, placing it over the top of her hand. She leaned into the warm dampness as he gently brushed the cloth over her skin, removing the flakes whilst trying not to tug on the self-inflicted scratches. It was calm. It was monotonous. It was repetitive.

The racing inside Michiko's head and heart began to still with each motion.

When the blood cleared, leaving only the pink underneath, he turned her hand over and began the process on the other side. Michiko watched, not quite brave enough to meet his gaze yet. The silence held between them was accompanied only by the soft humming of the generators and the odd sniffle.

The two sat and listened. And watched.

The question came out of nowhere. Michiko didn't know why she voiced it when it popped into her head. Didn't know why she confided in Arata who still practically remained a stranger. But strangers didn't break down in front of one another. Didn't talk about how they killed a person in front of each other.

Deep down, Arata was no longer a stranger. Was that why? Or Maybe it was because somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that he had gone through what she had. He had also lost people he loved, and still held grief that was rooted deep into his soul.

Perhaps he could understand, even if just a little, how she felt. "Do you ever feel like you're cursed?"

She could feel his concerned gaze turn from her hands to her face. "How so?" He asked.

"People always seem to die around me. I'm starting to think I'm the issue. That I only cause suffering to everyone around me," Michiko continued, "And that every bad thing that happens to them is my fault."

She sensed his head dropping, and he breathed in a deep sigh. "All of the time," He paused, "I've felt the same way ever since-" His voice hitched, "ever since Hajime, and then Mika... I also seem to lose everyone around me." Once it was fully clean, he let go of her hand, keeping his own held out for the second. Michiko automatically replaced it with the still marred one. There was a stifled pause, and she focused on the warmth of the cloth surrounding her skin. The heat was slowly dying.

"But it's just the way this world is." Arata continued, "It's cruel and it takes things from you. But when that does happen, we're the ones who have to live on for them. We can't carry that fault with us. They wouldn't want that."

"How can I continue to live my life after everything I've done? I've killed three people. Some of them probably had their own lives, their own families they wanted to go back to. People who are waiting for them. I don't have anyone... So then why am I the one who still lives?" Why did the world decide that she should be the one to survive the horrors? Why did she deserve to keep living above everyone else?

Perhaps living with the killing was to be her punishment. To see their faces in every corner. To see her father's reflection every single time she looked in the mirror. To recognise the monster she had become.

Arata finished sponging the flakes of red off her hand, but instead of letting it go, he held on. The span of his fingers engulfed her own, blanketing them in a comforting haze. Looking up, his eyes met her own, dark pools of gentleness and understanding. She wanted to sink into it. Into that deep, tender water. But if she did, would the world then take him to?

"It's because somewhere, deep down, you want to live. You want to go back to the old world. It's your own spirit that wants to survive. If you truly thought that you deserve to die then you would've let the games kill you." Arata said.

"Maybe I do want them to kill me." Michiko replied dully, pulling her eyes away and glancing back to the corner, where Mahiru had stood. She was no longer there but Michiko could still see the despondent, glassy eyes. The blood running down her neck. The blood that had still been on her hands moments ago. "I ruin everything I touch."

A gentle squeeze brought her focus back. "I had those thoughts myself, you know. But do you want to know what I've realized? If I were to die, there would be no one else to carry their memories. I don't want the world to forget Hajime and Mika. I'm the only one to remember their existence and I'm the only one who can keep them alive that way."

Michiko got the sudden, overwhelming urge to apologise. Hajime's death had happened right in front of her. His blood had been painted on her face. She had faced his killer as the crowbar was about to be brought down onto her, ready to murder her as brutally as it had him. Perhaps she could've done more, and Arata wouldn't have had to suffer the pain of his death.

"I'm sorry," She confessed, the words slipping from her lips before she could stop them, "If I had been able to warn Hajime, if he hadn't been distracted by me." Arata breathed in sharply, "I should've stayed more quiet. If I hadn't fought against him to get back to Ichida... He might still be alive if it weren't for me."

"It's not your fault. None of it is your fault." Arata reasoned. Michiko had a hard time believing the truth behind his words.

Michiko laughed humorlessly at Arata's reassurances. "All of it is. I'm better off alone. I always have been."

"Don't think that way," The grip around her hand tightened, and Arata pulled closer, searching deeply into her eyes, "If you continue dwelling on what you could've done differently you'll only continue existing in the past. You'll never see what's around you. There's people around you that still care, I can see that. Don't live in the past, because then you'll never learn to see what the future might actually hold."

Sniffling, Michiko bit her lip, staving off the tears that threatened to well up. Her stomach clenched painfully at the kind advice Arata was spilling. Displaying weakness in this world was a death sentence. But they were in the basement. It was just the two of them, with only the hum of the generators to accompany them. The world outside didn't exist in that moment.

Maybe Michiko should've placed more caution in trusting someone else in this world. But Arata was honest. Too honest perhaps. But his eyes spoke no lie. And Michiko fell into that net very quickly. "I- I don't know how to stop living in it. I see them everywhere." Ichida. Mahiru. The gangster guy whose fingers were still wrapped around her neck. The man from the Six of Hearts, towering over a struggling Kirika. The masked man from the spades game. They all lived there. Inside and outside of her mind.

"I know- I know it's hard. I see them too. But, if there's one thing you shouldn't do..." The older man put a hand on her shoulder. Softly and tenderly, just brushing over the fabric of her hoodie, not quite placing pressure. Not until Michiko nodded and he settled it down. She leaned into the weight. "Don't isolate yourself. I've been there. If you continue to blame yourself and pull away from everyone who cares about you you'll only make things worse. You'll only make yourself even more miserable." Arata sounded like he spoke from deep experience, his voice heavy with his own grief. If there was anyone's word she could trust it was his. Arata had seen the same things she had seen.

"Can..." Michiko didn't quite know how to voice the question on the tip of her tongue, but she managed, "Can someone like me... really be happy?"

"I think you can." Arata levelled her with a sympathetic smile. In the past, Michiko despised such things. Only because it was false. But Arata's smile, his gentleness and tender touch. It was real. It was as real as Ichida's fatherly warmth. It was as real as Kirika's radiance. It spoke of someone who actually gave a damn about her and not the weight of her past or her sins.

"Even when I've killed people?"

Arata nodded, his eyes beginning to sparkle with unshed tears. Michiko could see him diving into his own mind, into his own losses and maybe his own sins. Things he also liked to keep hidden from the world. Things he didn't want other people knowing about. "We've all had to do things we aren't proud of. I don't think it's us that's cursed, I think it's this world. It's turned all of us into murderers one way or another. But that shouldn't stop us from living. Maybe we won't be able to go back to our original lives, we won't be completely the same. But the rules of this world are different from our one. We need to do what we can so we can go back."

Breathing heavily through her nose, Michiko swallowed, wincing as the movement flared up the ache in her neck, "Maybe you're right..."

And maybe he was. If Michiko made it back to the old world, she would not be the same person. The people around her would not know the horrors she'd committed to grapple her way through. But she would be there, and she would be alive, and maybe she could turn things around for herself.

Ichida had always wanted her to do better. To be better. Maybe she should finally start trying.

♤♡◇♧

It was like everything inside her had been stripped away, leaving nothing but a husk of the snarky girl he had come to know. She drifted through the halls without recognising anything around her, the surrounding festivity going completely unregistered.

A ghost that couldn't comprehend the actions of the living.

He didn't know what compelled him to follow, to keep an eye on the haunting figure. He stayed in the shadows as she descended into the basement where the generators were kept. He bore witness to her silent tears that she had attempted to conceal by hiding away from the world. He had stood, listening to her talking to herself within the confines of that room, soft mumbles just sounding above the consistent humming.

Chishiya was pragmatic by nature. Every single decision he made was spearheaded by logical fact and reasoning. He didn't have time to ponder the intricacies of the human heart. Emotion outlay somewhere beyond his need to understand. Not that he ever wanted to understand it.

It was fickle and unreasonable, and often stood in the way of practical solutions.

But the emotions that cut through the girl in the basement were an enigma. They flailed all over the place, hoping from anger to sorrow to a vacancy that pulled her away from the threads of reality. That's where she lay now. Outside of understanding the world currently spinning around her, as if her mind existed somewhere outside of time itself.

Yes, he didn't want to ever understand the human heart. But what he did want to know was what had caused this vacant echo of the girl he'd come to respect.

It had been about half an hour of sitting and waiting - a shadow living in the walls. A witness of the loneliness that currently befell her. He didn't know why he stayed, but he did.

When Arata arrived, his presence was almost given away. The other man's face lifted in shock, before Chishiya raised a finger to his lips. The message was caught in time. He gestured silently through the doorway to the overly emotional girl inside, still murmuring to herself in a half panic-laced tone. There was a ghost inside there with her it seemed.

The thought passed through him that if there were anyone that would be able to calm her at this time, he imagined Arata would be the perfect candidate. Chishiya wasn't built for emotions. He wasn't going to waste his energy with Michiko's struggles. If she wanted to survive in this world, she was going to have to get a handle on her feelings whatever may come her way. That was the way of things now. And if she outlived her usefulness by letting her emotions cloud her judgement, Chishiya needed to know. He needed to know if he would have to drop her from his plans.

Since their arrival in this den of debauchery, Chishiya had already been compiling a list of schemes. The Beach was a wealth of information, and if Chishiya was going to figure out what lay at the root of this world, he'd have to suck it dry before continuing on his way. He had an instinctual feeling that the answer lay with the playing cards. Hatter was on the right track with that idea, even if the end result of their collection may lie far away from what he imagined.

Why else would they be left after each game?

Normally, Chishiya was fine with doing everything by himself. But the plans building inside his head unfortunately required the help of another body. Michiko had been the only other who'd shown a shred of intelligence and observation. It didn't quite match his level of cleverness. But it was adequate.

And there was some capacity of trust established between them already. She would be quite the useful ally.

Which was why he needed to know whether she could get a handle on whatever was going on inside her head. That was the conclusion he came to for why he stayed and listened to their conversation.

He heard her attempt to convince Arata she was fine. She was not. Anyone with a remote shred of observatory skill could see that. They discussed the world and who they think may be out there, controlling the outcome of these games. Chishiya noted her interest in discovering the answers. That would be essential in recruiting her for his plans.

He listened keenly as she spilled her sins out for the basement walls to hear. How she was ready to take revenge on Niragi for what happened to Ichida, only for someone - unknown to him - to interfere. Michiko didn't elaborate on what she did exactly, but the implication was clear. Her rage against Niragi was taken out on this unknown woman. She'd murdered her for the sake of murder.

Chishiya himself had been fortunate enough to not have to get his own hands dirty. But he was no stranger to death, and he'd had his moments of being the one to cause off-handedly. In his second game, the six of diamonds - a very precarious game of Blackjack - he had manipulated the other players into being the cause of their own ends and of each other's, leaving him the sole survivor.

When people thought with their emotions it was easy enough to pull on their strings and get them to move the way you want them to. They were so easy to use and discard.

Michiko's penchant for violence was something he could potentially manipulate to his benefit. If the cards were right.

Then the appropriately timed emotional break happened. Chishiya didn't have the right view of the scene but Michiko's panicked shouts made it obvious what was happening. Very soon Arata came zooming out, brushing past him as if he didn't exist. Michiko went silent, the heaviness of her breath reaching above the noise of the machines.

Then Arata came back, damp cloth in his hand.

They didn't speak for a short while, before Michiko broke the silence. They descended into a gentle toned back and forth on the subject of this world and its nature. On the way it ripped apart the morals of its inhabitants. On whether people such as them, who had murdered, cheated and lied deserved to live.

It was survival of the fittest, and those who didn't adapt were the ones who were killed by it.

Michiko had been adapting. Her body had at least. Her mind just needed the extra time to catch up.

"But it's just the way this world is." Arata had said, "It's cruel and it takes things from you. But when that does happen, we're the ones who have to live on for them. We can't carry that fault with us. They wouldn't want that." Oh, it seemed as though Arata of all people understood it in some way. From what he knew of the other man in the short time he had known him, that's something he didn't expect him to understand. Especially after everything that had happened to him recently.

Arata reasoned that nothing that had happened around her was the girl's fault. Chishiya was inclined to agree in a way. He couldn't help but think over how idiotic the girl was being by placing such blame on herself. It wasn't anyone's fault, the things that happened. That was just the way of the world, and people had to live with their actions and keep on going. Chishiya had never once regretted the actions he'd had to take to get to this point. Once one understood the way the world worked, they could manipulate the pieces to their liking. Only then would survival be guaranteed.

Arata's reassurances were futile. With someone as stubborn as Michiko, he knew she would hold on to whatever guilt had begun to consume her. She wouldn't allow anyone to help her. Perhaps she would self-destruct and the voice at the forefront of Chishiya's mind wondered how amusing it would be to see her fall to pieces and ruin everything she had built. From how it seemed, things looked to be heading that way indeed.

But a traitorous whispering at the back of his head wanted him to rescue the girl from drowning when that happened. He steered that thought away, telling himself he only wished to do so to manipulate her broken pieces and mold them to his liking. That he could construct his preferred pawn from the rubble.

The conversation died off shortly after. All Chishiya could make out was soft, heavy breathing and the soft clank of tools.

Then Arata's voice spilled out of the room, "You can come out, she's asleep."

Chishiya hesitated momentarily, before stepping around the corner and into the humidity of the generator room. It was compact, with the machines humming in one corner, leaving little room to move between them. Arata was kneeling by the one nearest the door, tinkering with the pipes inside of the open panel. Tucked in the opposite corner, Michiko was curled up, head resting against the wall. A red flannel was draped over her knees, leaving its owner clad only in a grey t-shirt and blue swimming trunks.

Propping himself in the open doorway, he watched Arata work, cat-like eyes following his every movement. The other man's throat bobbed with nervousness under the scrutinizing gaze, causing a satisfied curl at the edge of Chishiya's lip.

Arata eventually swallowed his anxiety, throwing a question over his shoulder. "Why didn't you come out at all?"

"Why would I want to?" Chishiya shrugged.

Dark eyes finally turned to him, black holes full of heaviness behind thin framed glasses. Arata wore his grief on his shoulders. Anyone who took a look at him could see it in the slumped posture and the way he didn't quite meet anyone's gaze. Without the confident shield of his friends he seemed to be a whole other person than the man he'd met that first night in this world.

Arata sniffed, "I thought you cared about her somewhat?"

Chishiya huffed a short, amused scoff, "Whatever gave you that impression?"

"Because..." Arata dropped his gaze, trying to find his words in the concrete below him, "You guys came to the Beach together, and you've been keeping a fairly close watch on her since. Because even if you didn't make yourself known, you still stayed... If I didn't know better I thought you guys might've been siblings." Arata's reasoning was understandable. From his point of view it may have looked that way.

But his assessment was entirely wrong. Chishiya was watching her for another reason entirely. He stepped away from the frame, wandering a little further into the room, studying the walls around him. He could sense Arata's keen gaze keeping watch out of his periphery. "Whilst I don't particularly care about her, I've come to respect her skills. I only stayed because I wanted to figure out what happened in her game tonight. And to see how well she could get a handle on her emotions. There was no point to me coming out anyway, it seemed like you had a handle on the situation."

"So she's what? Just an experiment to you or...?" The question hung in the air.

Chishiya hummed in response, "Something like that..." He turned to the slumbering girl in the corner, "I've come to realise that Michiko here may make a decent ally to me. I'm merely evaluating her usefulness." To my own plans. The last thought went unvoiced. The other man in the room also had the potential to be a major piece on the board. So long as he remained ignorant to the schemes inside Chishiya's head.

"So, if she were to die in the games..." Arata trailed off, the unspoken question heard clearly enough.

"I wouldn't mourn her at all. I would only mourn how beneficial an ally she might've been. She's rather intelligent, so she's quite the useful tool for me at the moment." Chishiya answered honestly.

"Surely then you'd want to keep your tools in top condition. From experience, letting tools go rusty can be quite the headache when you need them." There was a glint of humour in the other man's tone, and Chishiya got the sense he was speaking from his own experiences.

"Why waste my energy keeping them in good shape when I could just throw them away when that happens?" Chishiya finally allowed himself to look at the other man, catching the flicker of distrust in his eye at Chishiya's words. He would have to rectify that. His current plans hinged on getting Arata to trust him wholeheartedly. To manipulate the key information of the Beach's dynamics out of him.

Arata was the perfect target. He was meek and docile in the face of fear and intimidation. The man's emotions lay in an extremely vulnerable state. In the time Chishiya had spent with him over the last two days he'd concluded that Arata Kento was the type of man who latches onto any shred of kindness and decency. That left an opening for Chishiya to pluck his strings and mould him into the perfect piece on the board. Chishiya was not a kind and decent man. But he was rather good at pretending.

Arata looked away, not being able to hold the intensity of Chishiya's gaze. "Is- Is that how you view everyone around you."

Chishiya hummed with a false sense of thoughtfulness. He had shown a brief glimpse of honesty with Arata, something he tended to steer away from. Usually when Chsihiya was honest with people he ended up frightening them away as people never appreciated his way of looking at things. He didn't want to scare Arata off just yet.

He forced his lips to curl up in a gentle smile, "Most people. But not everyone." The white lie was enough to keep the other man drawn in. He could tell in the way Arata gulped under his stare. He pulled just a little more on the fishing line he had cast, luring his prey just a bit further into his web. "I didn't thank you for earlier by the way. You completing the game saved our lives." The statement was steeped in just a little truth. Chishiya was just seconds away from figuring out the solution before the water had pulled him under. Sometimes his shorter stature was a curse. Had Arata not had the extra head of height, he imagined he wouldn't have survived the game, not that he would ever admit it outloud around the wrong people. The wolves would descend and feast upon any scrap of weakness.

"It's nothing." The other man claimed, shaking his head, "I just wanted to live as well."

Chishiya hummed again, "It's so interesting, seeing how far people would go to live, don't you think? Human nature truly fascinates me sometimes. How quickly we can go from being prey to predator." He turned his attention back to a still sleeping Michiko, his words alluding to what she had experienced that night. Arata simply nodded, saying nothing, allowing Chishiya to continue with his line of thought, "You said you heard from Mira about what happened in Michiko's game. Do you mind me asking? I got the jist of it from what she said to you earlier but I'm interested in hearing more. "

"It's," Arata hesitated as he tried to find the right words "It's not for me to tell. I imagine she'll talk when she's ready."

Letting a short amused laugh slip, Chishiya replied, "And if I know anything about that girl, she won't talk at all. Least of all to me. I'm entirely sure she still doesn't quite trust me."

"I imagine she has her reasons." Arata quipped, the underlying tension behind the words reaching the back of Chishiya's brain. He may indeed have his work cut out a little in getting Arata to trust him. It appeared he was less inclined to it than Chishiya originally assessed.

"And I'm intending to find out those reasons." It was the truth. As long as he unearthed the mysteries behind Michiko, he believed the key to pulling her strings lay somewhere underneath the surface. Something had happened in her past that made her look at herself with such an extreme level of self-hatred.

Chishiya didn't want to understand the human heart. But the brain was something he would happily pick apart.

"Well then I think you should convince her that keeping her emotions bottled up isn't healthy." There was a level of irony in Arata's statement that Chishiya couldn't help but smirk at.

The room across from Arata was now where Chishiya called his temporary home. The room that he had come to discover had been previously occupied by Arata's now deceased friends. In that room he found many things, including a polaroid of the trio. That picture provided him with quite the wealth of information. He took key note of the unfathomable love in Arata's eyes as he stared at the back of Hajime's head.

There was a part of him that couldn't help but wonder if Arata had ever confessed those feelings, or kept them bottled up the same way Michiko locked away her guilt.

"Unless she can come to terms with her emotions by herself, then she isn't made for this world. The rest is up to her." Chishiya said simply. The only person responsible for Michiko's survival was herself. The responsibility did not lay on Arata, or Chishiya or the pest of a girl that followed her around like a loyal puppy.

The only one who could decide whether she was going to keep her wits about was herself. "Only she can decide whether she can survive this world and the things it may make her do."

He wouldn't interfere with that.

"I think you're wrong." Arata's voice interrupted his thoughts again. "You'll never be able to endure this world by yourself. Isolating yourself only makes it worse. This world makes us all do terrible things, and no one should have to live with that on their own. We should at least- We should be willing to help each other through that sort of thing."

"Hm." Chishiya had no reply ready.

In his profession, Chishiya had discovered his own role as a messenger of death. He often had to inform families that their loved ones were going to pass on to whatever came next. Sometimes it couldn't be helped. Sometimes it could.

People believed that this world was a far cry from the one they used to inhabit. But Chishiya knew how similar they actually were. The rich thrive off the suffering of the poor. The strong prey off the weak. There were two types of people out there. Wolves and Sheep. They existed both in the old world, and the new one.

In order to survive both, you had to live as the wolf.

Chapter Text

DAY 14

♤♡◇♧

A familiar voice at the outskirts of her awareness tugged Michiko towards awakeness.

"Refrain from telling her... was here... want her to get the wrong impression." It was bitty. The words scattered, but the collected tone was instantly recognisable.

Michiko jolted awake when a loud clang resonated through the room. As her eyes blinked open, her hands automatically scrambled for something to use as a weapon to defend against the threat of an oncoming attack. But there was no shadow lurking in the corner, ready to jump out at her.

Only Arata, who looked at her guiltily, his shoulder tense. At his crouched feet lay a metal wrench, the perpetrator of the noise that woke her.

"Sorry," the man apologised sheepishly.

Sniffling, Michiko rubbed at her eyes as her racing heart slowed. She looked down when she felt foreign fabric draped over her legs. Red with black stripes. It was the flannel shirt she's come to associate Arata with. After she had dropped off, he must've placed it over her as a make-shift blanket.

She choked a little at the act of kindness, not used to such displays. "It's okay," she eventually responded, voice still groggy with the remnants of sleep clinging to it. The voice she heard whilst still caught in sleep's embrace echoed in her mind again, "Was- was Chishiya here? Thought I heard him come in."

Arata swallowed, averting his gaze from her figure and going back to examining the generators - their humming still filled in the gaps of silence within the room. "No, haven't seen him since we got back from our game." There was a crack in his voice that had Michiko's eyes narrowing in skepticism.

Her immediate impression was that he was lying. Arata's eyes were far too honest, and that's why he averted them when he wanted to refrain from the truth. Michiko logged the tell. She chose to drop the matter. If Chishiya's presence there was to be covered up, that was business between himself and Arata and whatever conversation they partook in while she slept. She simply did not have the energy to look deeper into Chishiya's motivations.

"Do you know what time it is?" She asked, starting away from the subject with a slight cough that tore at her still aching throat.

The man shook his head. "No idea," he said, "It's easy to lose track of it down here. I never know what I might emerge out into."

"You spend a lot of time down here?" Michiko asked, shuffling herself to sit up straighter, leaning her back into the warm concrete behind her.

Arata nodded, letting a slight chuckle slip, "It- It's better than being out there at least."

Nodding, Michiko considered his words. She could see the appeal. It was away from the crowd. Away from the noise. The cacophony of screaming partygoers. It was a secret escape few knew about, a place of refuge and solace. One could be left alone; could truly ignore the chaos of the world outside the walls.

Most importantly, it was a good place to avoid people.

"I think you're quite right about that." Michiko was beginning to think she and Arata had more in common than she thought.

But as much as she wished to stay in that place of respite, her nerves were itching again. To move, to get out of there. To escape the confines of four walls. It was always difficult for her to stay in one place for long. Her body just always wanted to move. Sitting still was an activity she struggled with daily, and that urge had come back in full force, shoving through her achingly tired muscles without mercy.

Lifting herself from the floor - much to her legs' protesting cries - she rolled up the shirt before placing it on the floor with conscious care.

"Are you off?" Arata's head perked up from his perch in front of the generators.

"I need to get out of here. Just need to move." She didn't know how to explain it in a way the other man might understand, but she didn't want to just disappear on him without some sort of reasoning.

To her surprise, the man nodded. "It's okay, I get it. That's just the way it is sometimes." Once again, Michiko was struck silent by his level of understanding. "Just, please be vigilant out there. It might have reached the quiet hours of the morning, but that doesn't mean it's any less dangerous. You know the type of people in the place..."

Michiko nodded, giving him an attempt at a reassuring half-smile. Her lips ended up shaping into a tight line, more grimace than anything else. As she stepped towards the door, Arata's voice calling after her had her stilling in the doorway.

Turning to him one last time, he had stood from his crouch, looking down at her with a concerned glint in his eye. Fiddling with a small pink object in his hand, he looked down at it before holding it out to her. "Here. The executives decided on your position last night. I was tasked with giving you and Chishiya your new wristbands."

Michiko eyes the object warily, before reaching and taking it from Arata's outstretched hand. It was rubbery under her fingers and a gaudy bright pink colour that Kirika probably would've appreciated. The pouch that tucked away the locker key had the number '17' written on it.

"They value you as a hearts specialist." The simple statement sent a pang through her heart, full of an amalgamation of guilt, disgust and seething anger. Hearts specialist. As if the hearts games she had participated in hadn't stripped her of everything and forced her to become a monster.

"If- If it's any help, I don't think you're a bad person. You've just had to do bad things. A lot of have." Arata must've caught the conflict in her gaze, to come out with such words out of nowhere.

A memory shot to the forefront of her mind. Ichida had once said something similar, during those days after the five of spades, when she'd first killed someone - her last shreds of innocence being murdered in return. After he had told her about the boy, that he'd killed in the gang war.

When she was still stuck inside her guilt - feeling like she might succumb to it - he'd turned to her and said: We are not bad people. We've just done bad things.

Arata's gaze averted to the concrete floor, like they would give him the words he needed, "And- and I don't think Hajime would've blamed you. Hajime always did only what he wanted. I think he'd be glad you managed to survive actually, that his sacrifice wasn't in vain. So please- please don't ever blame yourself for that. Because I don't."

A familiar prickling stabbed at her eyes, her throat clogging simultaneously. Michiko nodded, Arata returning her meagre gesture with a comforting smile. And that was when Michiko saw it. In that smile lay Ichida. He was there, his presence like a heavy, consoling blanket around her. Michiko's breath hitched violently.

She turned, rushing away from the generator room before her tears caught up with her.

♤♡◇♧

Sleep had not come to her easily.

Still rattled from her encounter with Nobutoshi, Kirika had returned to her and Michiko's room. She had hoped desperately that the other girl had returned to their shared space, so Michiko's presence could provide a shield of safety between her and the lingering eyes.

But their room still lay numbingly empty. The clock ticked on in the corner.

Kirika debated going back out - searching the premises until she had turned them upside down in her quest to find the other girl. But the thought of running into Nobutoshi or another like him froze her in front of the door. Icy chills ran over her arms and she clutched at them for a meagre sense of warmth.

She'd curled up in her bed - the one nearest the door - watching the entrance of the room with such intensity that she felt she could will Michiko into existence.

The clock ticked on in the corner.

Still, the other girl did not appear. And Kirika eventually succumbed into a fitful sleep, still aware of the passage of time.

Still aware of the ticking clock.

When she jumped awake, the noise outside had dimmed. The partygoers had trickled away back to their rooms, either to partake in more private proclivities or to succumb to the throes of sleep, hoping their indulgences wouldn't catch up to them when the sun rose high into the sky.

Kirika's restless nerves stirred her into a frenzy when Michiko still did not magically reappear in their room. Her frustration bubbled over.

Jumping out of bed, she stormed out of the room, leaving behind the ticking clock to find where the other girl had escaped to.

Her first port of call was Chishiya. Her irritation stirred even further at the thought of interacting with the man.

If anyone would know, it was him. He apparently knew everything.

All Kirika knew was that she hated him.

It had become evident fairly quickly after he had joined their little alliance that the man was only in it for his own agenda. Kirika liked Mr. Nakajima and Michiko right away. They were the only one's kind enough to actually interact with her in the game they met. Everyone else had ignored her desperate pleas for help. But not them.

Kirika was determined to stick around them. They had offered her shelter in her time of need, proving their trustworthiness. But Chishiya was the outlier. She had expected him to go that next morning once he had gotten the information he wanted. Kirika had picked up on that during Michiko and the man's hushed conversation that morning.

Then they came from the store, and he was still there. With that all-knowing, narcissistic half-smile plastered on his face. She hated that smile.

The whole week, she had willed him to disappear. But he stayed. Like an annoying bug she couldn't swat. Whilst she tried to make friends with the other two, he always lingered, watching each interaction happen around him with a clinical eye. Kirika knew he was logging every single detail about their group in that scheming brain of his.

Kirika recognised a manipulator when she saw one. Her own mother displayed the same behaviours Chishiya had. The same patterns emerged the longer she spent around him.

Someone like Chishiya would only bring destruction in his wake. He would tear down defenses until they lay on the floor, crumbled into dust. And he would stand proudly amongst the wreckage. Because it was only by the sacrifice of others that he would be permitted to live.

She wanted rid of him before he had the chance to demolish everything she was trying to build.

But for now, she would begrudgingly ask for his aid. Because knowing Michiko was alive and well was the most important factor in her mind right now.

♤♡◇♧

A soft knock on his door disturbed him in the early hours of the morning. He stared at it in irritation, eyes boring through the wood in, hoping that his annoyance reached whoever was on the other side.

He was just glad that whoever decided to seek him out that morning hadn't disturbed his sleep.

Sleep had evaded him for the rest of that night. After their enlightening conversation in the generator room, Chishiya had made his way back to his room to settle down for the night. Arata had stayed in the basement, keeping a vigilant guard over the girl slumbering down there. Chishiya had told the other man to omit his presence there that night from Michiko's knowledge. He would hate for the girl to get the wrong impression, thinking that he was concerned.

He spent the rest of the night locked away in his room, working at his latest experiment; a taser fashioned out of an old Walkman.

The Beach's rules only allowed the militants to carry weapons. Out of concern for the rest of the citizens' safety, apparently. That was a joke if Chishiya had ever seen one. Hysterical, manic hyenas and jackals composed the militants, all of them ready to pounce on unwitting prey. The only purpose handing those people weapons served was to stack their egos up even higher over those of 'normal people'.

So, if Chishiya wasn't afforded the privilege of being provided a weapon, then he'd create his own. He had hijacked the circuitry to turn the simple device into a makeshift taser, and he suspected it should work the way he'd intended. However, the lack of a trial run in the games had mildly vexed him. Nevertheless, he was sure it would come in handy at some point.

Whilst his hands worked, his mind was cycling at lightning speed, processing everything he had learned so far and beginning to pin pieces onto the board inside his head. Everything was taking its place seamlessly. The people, the plan, the rising tension that was sure to spill out into an eruption that consumed the Beach someday. He planned to be gone by then, Hatter's cards in his possession.

Whilst Hatter's theory was no doubt - in his mind - incorrect, he didn't think the man was wrong in believing the solution had something to do with the playing cards. That was the conclusion he'd come to.

And then he found out what Mika had done.

In his integration of Arata - after their tour on the first day of their sojourn - he discovered that his friend Mika was caught trying to steal the cards from Hatter's royal suite. She had been caught and then promptly killed for her betrayal.

It wasn't a bad idea. She was actually on the right track, as far as he was concerned. However, she had been rash; reckless. Had gotten herself killed for lack of a solid plan. Chishiya, on the other hand, was clever and careful. He would set the pieces up and then wait for the opportune moment when the Beach's leadership was at its most fragile before striking. The decision making now lay in determining who would be a pawn, and who would be a player in this carefully crafted scheme.

Pieces were still missing. The plan was in its earliest stages, and there was further information he needed before striking. But it was being built, bit by bit.

He had spent the night inside his head, meticulously moving the pieces around, and was incensed when the knock on the door drew him out of those knitting thoughts. When he opened it, he found the person he least wanted to see on the other side.

Kirika stood there fidgeting, eyes just slightly narrowed as she looked up at him, her posture telling him that she would rather be anywhere else at that very moment.

Chishiya would also rather she be anywhere else at that moment.

Behind the sour expression directed at him, there was a distinct glint of worry. "Have you seen Michiko at all? She didn't come back to our room last night. I'm- I'm rather worried."

Casting his eyes away from the girl, Chishiya put on a false-contemplative gaze. "Hmm. strange. I was sure I saw her come back last night. I would've thought she might have gone straight back to your room. I must've been wrong." He knew exactly why she hadn't gone back. He had heard her worries of being a curse upon others from her very own lips. It seemed he was correct in thinking she might distance herself.

Chishiya also knew exactly where she was. But for the girl in front of him, a petty streak Chishiya rarely experienced rose its head.

Something about Endo Kirika just... irked him. Maybe it was the shining positivity. He had a hard time believing anyone was truly that optimistic when faced with the horrors of this world.

"Well, at least she's not dead. That's a relief." Kirika breathed, her shoulders slumping slightly and her fidgety hands relaxing. "Where do you think she might be?"

"What makes you think I know where she is?" Chishiya questioned lightly.

"Because I thought you cared about her somewhat." He was becoming tired of people thinking that. "And because you apparently know everything since you think you're so clever?" There was a bite behind the words that Chishiya wasn't quite expecting.

He raised his eyebrows down at her, taken slightly aback. "I am clever." He retorted, his lips lifting in a slight smirk.

"If you're so clever, then you'll know where she is, right?" Kirika responded in a piercing tone. Chishiya was growing weary of her attitude. She never showed this side of herself with Michiko. It was always a bared grin and winding positive energy around the other girl. From the moment she met Chishiya, she had been nothing but frigid towards him.

He had seen the wary glances out of the corner of her eye.

"Try the basement, maybe." He bit back. If letting the girl know where her self-proclaimed friend was would get her away from his door, then so be it. He then finished the short conversation by shutting the door in Kirika's face, ignoring the bewildered expression on the girl's face.

His assessment of the girl hadn't quite cemented itself yet. From what he had seen, there were two sides to her. What she shared with Michiko, and the harsher face she reserved for only him. A mask with two faces.

Chishiya was not prone to trust others, but he definitely did not trust her. Usually he could get a good glimpse of people's character after knowing them for a short while, and could sniff out their intentions rather easily. But with her... he could not figure her out at all. It unnerved him slightly.

The sooner he was rid of her, the better. He just needed to get Michiko behind the idea if he were to bring the other girl into the fold of his plans. As much of a hard job as that might be. Michiko appeared to have begun developing an unexpected fondness for the positive girl.

That was a task for another day. For now, it was time for some sleep now that the Beach's activities had calmed.

♤♡◇♧

Before she found her way onto the roof, Michiko haunted the halls of the Beach like a ghostly spirit; silent and pensive. She made no move to return to her and Kirika's room, knowing deep down that the other girl must be worrying about her current living status. There was something in her mind blocking her from making a move towards that particular issue.

Keeping her distance, avoid the issue in its entirety. That's what Michiko was best at. It was her coping mechanism of choice. That way, she wouldn't cause any more harm.

Kirika was far too good for this world. Far too good for her. Something that good was something Michiko didn't deserve. Part of her wanted to cling on selfishly, to allow Kirika's goodness into her life. But she knew the end of the story. She had seen it play out before.

This world worked in vicious cycles, a circle Michiko had already fallen into.

Instead, she found her way to the rooftop. The early morning air blew an icy chill through the fabric of her hoodie, poking at her bare legs. Some hours had apparently passed by in her troubled slumber. The blue filtered into the air, hinting the approaching dawn. The soft blue kept the city skyline in shadow as she stared out across the buildings. Michiko estimated the sun would emerge across the bay within the hour.

For the first time in the last five years, the silence wasn't so bad. There was a wondrous peace within it, without the distorting sounds of electronic music. The shadows kept at bay, staying at the edges of her mind. Paranoia did not greet her this time around.

Michiko could finally breathe.

Standing at the edge of the roof, she looked down at the cement below. It would be a beautiful moment to die in this peace. Her mind would be free of its plague.

But she didn't want to die. Not truly. No matter how much confusion she held over the trajectory of her life. She would live it anyway.

As Arata had said, they were the only ones who could carry on the memory of the dead. Only she could remember Ichida as he was. Who he was to her, at least. So she would continue to hold his image in her heart, and she would live on. For him. He deserved that much effort from her.

The door clattering open disrupted the silence of the early morning. A familiar shadow sidled up beside her. Of course Kirika would find her eventually. It was an inevitability that she couldn't escape. Nothing was said between them, and Michiko could do nothing but squash the rising doubt of her status with the other girl.

Eventually, it was Kirika who broke the uneasiness between them, brokering a fragile peace. "So, this is where you've been hiding. I've been all over the Beach looking for you. Chishiya said you were down in the basement, but no one was there when I checked. This was the only other place I could think of."

The other girl had the habit of filling in the silence, something Michiko noticed in their interactions. As if she continuously had to fill the gaps with her voice.

"Are- are you okay?" Michiko was tiring of that question quickly. "When you didn't come back to our room, I got worried."

Swallowing, Michiko grit her jaw as she tried to summon the words, "I just- I just needed some space. Last night's game... It was hard." Hard was the biggest understatement. But putting her thoughts into words was never Michiko's specialty.

"Oh, that's okay then. I'm just glad you're alive." Kirika's soft smile appeared on Michiko's periphery. She could feel the other girl's gaze boring through her skull, willing her to look her way. But Michiko didn't look her way. She didn't deserve such brightness. Such enigmatic positivity was outside the confines of Michiko's receptiveness.

There was a part of her that wished they could've met five years sooner, before the incident that started the downfall of Michiko's sanity. When she was a child, just as full of wonder and optimism.

"You know," Kirika began, "The day I ended up here, I was up on a rooftop like this. I was going to jump off it."

The startling admission broke Michiko's gaze away from the concrete below, a worried frown marring the space between her eyebrows as she twisted her gaze to the other girl. Kirika was smiling sheepishly, as if she had just admitted an embarrassing secret instead of telling Michiko that she had considered ending her own life just - what - a week and a half ago?

"Mhmm, I felt like I had lost everything. I had no control over my life, and I thought it would be better to just... not exist anymore. It was such a nice day. Then the fireworks happened, and I thought it would be such a beautiful vision for my last picture of life." The other girl's gaze turned strangely wistful, staring out over the bay into the steadily lightening sky. "Then I looked down again... and everyone had disappeared."

Michiko remembered the same bizarre events marking her own first day in this world. She wondered if avoiding the crash into Chishiya would've changed how things had worked out to this point. Would she have entered this world in the same way? Would she have entered at all? Would she have gone through the same journey? But there was no use in considering what if's.

"It was such a strange phenomenon. I became so intrigued by the cause of it, I completely forgot what I climbed that rooftop to do. I'm- I hate to say this, but I'm honestly glad it happened." Kirika looked down, a melancholic smile drifting onto her face as she scuffed the ground with the bottom of her pink canvas sneakers.

If possible, Michiko's brow furrowed even further. "Why would you be glad to be in this world?" She asked, her mind perplexed over the fact that Kirika appeared to actually be happy about leaving the old world behind.

The other girl's eyes rose to meet hers, a look so deep and intense passing through those dark irises that Michiko's breath caught in her throat. That look could freeze her a thousand times and she would welcome it wholly. "Because then I wouldn't have met you." The words whispered so softly Michiko didn't know if she had heard them correctly. But there was no mistaking them when she saw the smile that followed.

"Why are you telling me this?" She breathed the question out.

Kirika averted her gaze again, and Michiko was free from the trap that was in her eyes. The one she had fallen head first into.

"Because-" Kirika began, "Because I know what it's like to live inside anger and grief. I know what it's like to want to tear apart everything around you until there's nothing left. To want to escape the pain of those emotions so badly that the only way you think you can... is by killing yourself."

She paused, blinking rapidly. Michiko's caught the slight glisten that had emerged along the bottom of her eyes. Unshed tears wetting her lashes.

Once again, she was caught in a mousetrap under her gaze when Kirika turned to her once more. "But you can't let it consume you. If you do, you'll never come back from it. You'll only kill yourself over it."

With a shake of her head, Michiko responded, "I don't plan on killing myself anytime soon."

Kirika cleared her throat, her eyes turning into sharp needles. "Maybe not intentionally. But your vendetta against Niragi... That's what'll get you killed if you continue to go after him in your state. Because you can't think clearly under the weight of that sort of rage."

A huff escaped Michiko's nose. "He has to pay for what he did."

"And he will!" Kirika's determined spirit refused to back down. "This world will catch up to him eventually, I just know it. But I don't want you getting killed because you're being reckless with your life. I can't- I can't lose another-" The words got stuck in her throat as the tears - finally free of the confines - streamed down her cheeks.

Nothing more was said.

Upon the horizon, the orange glow of the emerging sun sprinkled its way across the blue. The mark of a new day. And within its light, a girl cried whilst the other watched on, brand new thoughts - many of them confusing - running through her head at a mile a minute.

They stayed on that rooftop until the sun reached its apex, their solitude broken when music started up again on the ground below.

♤♡◇♧

The first thing that met him upon opening his eyes was a gentle knock on the door, far different from Kirika's insistent thudding in the earlier hours. He wiped away all traces of tiredness, donning his discarded white hoodie, before opening the door. On the other side, Arata's nervous figure stood. The man shifted his weight between his feet, fiddling with a small blue object in his hands.

When the door squeaked open - he made a mental note to acquire some oil for the hinges lest the noise drive him mad - the other man lifted his gaze to meet Chishiya's curious eyes. He gulped before holding the object out for him. A blue locker key. Not unlike those you would find at the gym or a swimming pool. It matched the one on Arata's wrist. "I forgot to give you this earlier. The executives made their assessments pretty quickly last night. Congratulations, they think you have a lot of potential to join their ranks yourself. Kuzuryuu put in a good word."

Chishiya smirked before taking the key. "I'm sure you did as well, no doubt." He noted the anxious flush that crept up Arata's neck at his words, before looking at the key in his hand.

It was rubbery under his fingertips. The number on it read '13'. In some cultures and religions, that was considered an unlucky number. But for Chishiya, it only meant that his plans were closer to realisation than he thought. One requirement for it to come to fruition was for Chishiya to reach executive status - by whatever means possible. There was information that only those within Hatter's entrusted circle were privy to. Chishiya needed such knowledge to solidify everything.

His gaze wandered to the twin band around Arata's wrist and caught sight of the number on the other man's key. "Right behind you, it seems." Irony twisted a chuckle out of him at the sheer coincidence.

Arata hummed and ducked his gaze, hands diving straight into the pockets of his swimming trunks. The simple action hid the number '12' on the wristband from Chishiya's vision.

"The previous number 13 died in last night's games. It was the highest available position." Arata explained.

"What an honour." Chishiya said dryly, before humming. "Do you believe in coincidences, Arata?"

The other man's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, the sight sending a glimmer of amusement shooting through Chishiya. He couldn't help but liken Arata to a puppy at this moment. There was no doubt in his mind that Arata couldn't at all hide his honest expression, and Chishiya enjoyed seeing that innocent uncertainty glance across his features. Someone who left themselves so emotionally vulnerable was the perfect victim to manipulate.

"Coincidences?" Arata paused briefly, looking into the air as if words existed there, "I- I don't think so. Everything happens for a reason, right? Why do you ask?"

"Do you think there's a reason we were assigned rooms across from each other, then? That we've been given numbers one right after the other?" Chishiya asked, laying the bait, waiting for the man across from him to snag on it.

Arata stuttered at his question "I-I..." He gulped, and Chishiya found his excitement rising at the nervous disposition Arata was displaying, "Maybe there is. I don't know what it might be, but there must be a reason." He sounded like he was questioning every word that left his lips, his voice trailing off in his hesitation. He sent Chishiya a small smile to hide the anxious fretting that was so obviously happening inside his head. His next words attempted to deflect from the subject, "If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way."

Before he could turn and escape, Chishiya called out to him one last time. "Arata." The man stilled. "How often do the executive positions open up?"

There was a lengthy silence before Arata turned back and answered. "All the current executives are the ones the Beach originally started with. None of them have died in the games yet."

Chishiya nodded, storing the information. "Thank you, Arata."

The other man bobbed his head before retreating quickly to his room across the hall. Chishiya was left staring at the wood of Arata's door, locked in his contemplation. None of the original executives had died. Chishiya wondered how long it would remain that way.

Disaster struck when Judas joined the Last Supper as the thirteenth guest. How long would it be until trouble began stirring at the Beach now that he was named number thirteen? His anticipation grew at the prospect.

He closed his room door behind him, setting out to continue his observations.

♤♡◇♧

He found Michiko again in the early afternoon and it was clear that she, once again, was locked inside her head. He had expected to see Kirika eagerly trailing behind the girl, but Michiko was without her usual shadow. Strange.

There was a shroud of uncertainty hanging over the girl as she wandered the Beach's halls. She watched the people pass around her as though she couldn't comprehend their actions. As he watched her, for a split second, he couldn't help but see his reflection. The look in her eyes.... In a way, he saw his younger self there, a child alone against a world they couldn't understand.

It knocked him for a moment, brought him out of his usual thread of calculative thoughts. A sea of numbness and white noise echoed in his head as he studied her expression. Everything he had fought to abandon, all the memories he believed he discarded, came flooding back as his meticulous control slipped from his grasp for a moment.

He followed behind her, keeping a keen eye as she left through the gates of the Beach alone, skateboard in hand. For a moment, he wondered what had caused this. His curiosity that had stemmed from the previous night about what happened in her game came flooding back. Troubled thoughts crossed her face. There was a distinct lack of comprehension behind that dark gaze. Like everything she had believed had been ripped up into the wind.

Emotional comprehension was not Chishiya's strongest area of understanding. He had no desire to understand it. But the air of displacement that surrounded the girl had mirrored the one that had once shadowed him.

His decision was made.

Michiko was going to be brought in on his plan. They would get out of the Beach, with the cards in hand, and figure out the true nature of this world. He had learned last night that she also desired to find out who was behind these twisted games, just as he did. To understand the secrets this world held. He only hoped that a willingness to make the necessary sacrifices to gain such knowledge was within her. Forbidden fruit was not so easily won.

The day passed by in a haze. Chishiya didn't enter any games that night.

When the dawn approached the next morning, he trailed up to the rooftop of the Beach. Someone had beaten him there.

Michiko stared out into the steadily approaching sun. When he settled beside her, he observed the glaring dark circles under her eyes in the faint light. In the dimness of the basement a day and half ago, he hadn't caught sight of the bruises on her neck properly. Over the last couple of times he had seen her, the colour of them had deepened into a canvas of black and purple, in the shape of hands. It would take a good couple of weeks for them to heal properly based on the size and tone of colour.

He was brutally aware of a foreign sense of frustration creeping up his spine the longer he looked at them. It took a particularly terrible person to want to harm a child. Though it was sometimes easy to forget that Michiko was just a child. Oftentimes, she acted older than she really was.

She didn't look up at him as he stepped up to her right side. The closer he got, he could feel the conflicted emotions radiating off of her. Despair. Utter confusion. The unadulterated rage that simmered under the surface, constantly ready to erupt.

"Those look particularly nasty." He commented, nodding at the bruises around her neck.

Her eyes flickered to him briefly, "I wouldn't know, haven't looked in a mirror lately." The statement bore a certain heaviness that piqued Chishiya's interest. "Plus, the other guy is worse."

Chishiya hummed, "I have no doubt about that."

His eyes swivelled forward, boring down to the concrete below. The pool area that the building surrounded was a mess of scattered deck chairs, beer bottles that were strewn out under the blazing sun for days, and pool floats bobbing in the otherwise empty waters. The residents of the Beach were so caught up in their own displacement of rules that no one was assigned to actually clean up the mess that steadily grew worse each night.

It was a marvel to see their surroundings so quiet in the morning. In just a few hours, the cycle would repeat itself. Another day of pathetic, foolish indulgence.

"That kind of survival instinct is what I'm currently looking for." He spoke up again. The sharpness of her inquisitive gaze drilled a hole into the side of his head. The corner of his lip twitched upward. Turning towards her, he noticed Michiko's narrowed eyes as she held him under a scrutinizing gaze. The early morning glow shone a light back into the dullness of her eyes. Her gaze was enough to provide the question that wasn't voiced. "I may have a plan to get away from the Beach. But I find myself in need of assistance."

"How?" the younger girl asked.

"The other day I found out that Arata's friend, Mika, attempted to steal Hatter's collected cards. They executed her as a traitor for her actions." Chishiya explained.

Michiko interrupted, "So, you want to steal the playing cards? Why would you do that?"

"I had thought you might've picked up on it already. Have you ever considered why the playing cards are left at the end of each game?" There was a glint of realisation in her eyes. "While Hatter's theory doesn't quite add up, I figured there must be some importance to the cards. I'm determined to find out just what they mean. And if the answers within them could lead us to figuring out who's truly behind this world."

Understanding flickered across her face, and she nodded. "I've had similar thoughts. But how would you suggest we do it? I've heard around that Hatter has them hidden in a location only he knows about." So it seemed Chishiya wasn't the only one gathering information.

Chishiya hummed, "I have a potential plan, but it requires a lot of patience." Her focus was solely on him, her entire form perking up in attentiveness. "First, I need to get inside Hatter's inner circle by becoming an executive. Luckily, after displaying my skills in the games, I'm already fairly close." He held up his wrist, showing off the locker key on his wrist. Michiko looked at it, before glancing down at her own. Chishiya's eyes flickered down and caught the number '17' on her own wrist, as a garish pink locker key. It appeared like the Beach was also interested in her potential. "It also may require some level of sacrifice. So, Michiko, how much do you want to get away from this place?"

His gaze turned expectant, staring down and the pondering expression that twisted at her features. Her brow furrowed deeply as she lost herself in her thoughts.

Every plan that Chishiya set up was meticulously crafted. He lay down traps that people couldn't help but fall into. His first target being Michiko. The next, Arata. Finally, the simmering tension between the militants and Hatter's loyalists he would take particular advantage of. That would be the ideal time to strike, but there was still more to do before that point. More to learn.

With the two of them working in tandem - Chishiya's careful strategies and Michiko's senseless violent urges - they could be out of that place if the cards stacked correctly. Chishiya would just have to wait and see how the next few days played out.

Michiko finally glanced out to the horizon, her expression hardening. "What the hell, I don't wanna stay in this place any longer than I have to." She turned back to him, and he saw the spark flicker to life, just for a moment. "Let's do it."

Chishiya nodded, lips curling into a satisfied  . The moment had arrived to put his schemes into action. It was time for Chishiya to cast the die.

Chapter Text

DAY 15

♤♡◇♧

All Michiko could figure out within the current labyrinth of her emotions was that she was exhausted. The events of the past few days had stacked up, pulling at all the threads in her mind until they frayed; ready to snap at any moment.

She was dangling upon a single, pitiful string. Waiting until one more thing being added to the pile came along to cut it.

She sat in Chishiya's room - having followed the man down there to discuss their plan away from prying ears - eyes heavy lidded, gaze vacant and mind elsewhere. In a little record store on the border between Shibuya and Ebisu.

In her need to escape the confusion of everything, she had left the Beach unaware of sharp eyes following her moves. She needed to get out. One more moment spent in that decaying place, and she was sure she'd go insane. If she hadn't already. It took her a couple of hours, but she found that small refuge once more. Where she had spent her second day. Where she had unwittingly led Ichida after the four of spades.

It was a place full of memories, warm and comforting. Somewhere to hide from both the unnerving silence of the city and the manic-paced environment of the Beach. Ichida's presence still lingered between the rows of cardboard boxes, and she took solace in the soft, scratchy noise of the gramophone and old records she didn't recognise. The bookstore across the street provided her with material her mind could take refuge in. A subject she knew well and words she could recite in the back of her head.

Her favourite was hard found and nowhere to be seen on the shelves, but a leather-bound copy of the Iliad was respite enough. She allowed herself to get lost in the tales once again. The petty rivalry of gods leading to the most horrific war the Greeks had ever known. Of the hard-fought battle against Troy to win back Helen. And particularly of the astounding love between Achilles and Patroclus, the famous hero sacrificing his chance at a long life, setting the course of fate by avenging the death of his love.

Patroclus. Who chose to die in Achilles' stead, donning his armour and leading the Myrmidons into battle.

When the sun began lowering in the sky, she stared out into the sky. Part of her wanted to stay. To traverse the city in her solitude and avoid the conflicting emotions the people back at the Beach sent through her. But she found herself back on her skateboard, rattling down the familiar streets back to the bay.

She didn't go back to her and Kirika's room. Once again, her own mind prevented her from seeking interaction with the girl. Perhaps it was the guilt. Perhaps something else entirely. She trailed the busy halls, weaving around throngs of people who didn't even know her name, and made her way down into the basement.

Arata being there was her hope. However, the generator room lay empty of his presence. Still, she settled down for another uneasy night of sleep, her backpack as a pillow. The heat from the generators was blanket enough.

Hours passed by and sleep evaded her. Every time she closed her eyes, the images came to the forefront of her mind. The ones she had been evading. When it became clear she wouldn't find any rest that night, she pulled out the Iliad and continued where she left off. And when she became restless, she dragged her feet up to the roof.

Arata was right in his words the previous day. It was easy to lose track of time down there. The sun began its ascent when she arrived, and her heavy-lidded, itchy eyes watched the orange glow infect the sky.

It was there the proposition was made. That roof would soon become the bearer of many significant moments of Michiko's life in that place.

"Let's do it."

When Chishiya had found Michiko on the roof of the Beach that morning, she stared ahead, her eyes having not moved from the tantalizing horizon. Her mind ran through many thoughts, flashes passing through her distant gaze.

She hadn't noticed him at first. His silent presence glided up beside her. It wasn't wasn't until she felt an intense gaze boring into her neck that she realised he was there.

"Those look particularly nasty." He had said. Although she hadn't looked into a mirror to see for herself, she could imagine they did. Her reply to him said exactly that. The skin and muscles around her neck still ached and burned. "Plus, the other guy is worse."

The other guy was dead. In her own desperation to survive, she had killed him. Two people had died that night by her hand. The acid rose in her throat again. Then he informed her of an escape plan. A daring one; stealing Hatter's playing cards from right under his nose. He had asked how much she wanted to get away from this place. The Beach.

The answer was obvious. Desperately.

The Beach wasn't the utopia it claimed to be. A few days spent there and Michiko could tell it was the furthest thing from it. It was hell. These people were blind. They spent their days partying as if nothing was wrong. As if there wasn't a power hungry man leading them on and killing those who didn't agree with his ideals. As if those at the top didn't get away with doing as they pleased and bullying those they believed to be weak.

This place might just be what snapped the final hanging thread that held her up. She needed out before that happened. And Chishiya's plan promised answers. Michiko believed they lay in the cards themselves. And if anyone could pull off such an audacious scheme, it was the ever calculating Chishiya.

She agreed, a rising sense of determination coming back as she once again had purpose.

Which led her to sitting in his room as he detailed everything. It relied on a lot of coincidences falling into place and a series of events happening as they predicted. But it was doable if those events did indeed happen. And the logic behind Chishiya's expectancy of those things happening was sound.

"There are pieces still missing. But as long as things fall into place, it should succeed. Which is where a second hand is helpful. Double the information in half the time. Depending on the state of things, we may need to move rather quickly." Chishiya's words brought her back into the room, and she hummed, turning her gaze away from the wall to where he sat in the chair by the desk.

His room had turned into a makeshift workshop. He had little clothes or belongings cluttering the place, but his desk was a collection of mechanical parts, tools, and seemingly random objects. Like the device he had carried to the six of hearts game, the one he'd been tinkering with during those seven days of peace their group had found.

"And why did you decide I'd be the right person?" She asked. Every time she spoke, she still cringed slightly. The rasp from her injuries had yet to disappear. She coughed through the discomfort, eliciting a sharp flicker of the eyes from Chsihiya, toward her neck. His hand shot out and flipped the switch on the kettle.

"I figured you'd be the best person for the job. You're rather resourceful when you want to be, and I figured there's some measure of trust between us." His eyes turned to the desk, and he busied himself with grabbing a mug.

"And if I don't trust you?" Michiko asked.

"Then I trust your desire to leave this place and your survival instinct to see reason. You don't have to trust me entirely, the same way I don't trust you entirely. But I trust that we have the same agenda, and I trust that to push this plan forward." He chucked a tea bag into the mug, pouring water in when it had finished boiling. As it steeped for a few minutes, he rummaged around in the drawer in the desk. From her position, Michiko couldn't tell what was inside it, and he closed it once he obtained what he was looking for.

A bottle of honey. He squeezed a rather generous amount into the steaming mug.

"I'm placing my trust in your ability, Michiko. I think you're rather intelligent when you put your mind to it. I think we have a lot to gain from each other. Here. I don't have any throat medicine. This is the best I can do." He held the mug out to her, and Michiko stared at it, blinking in surprise. The tang of lemon hit her nose, and just underneath, the deep scent of ginger.

Michiko couldn't tell if he actually meant what he said - that he trusted her ability. She was still finding it hard to figure the man out. He was distant most of the time. Kept himself away from other people and always looked down upon them as though they were nothing but an inconvenience. Like flies that continuously buzzed around, causing him annoyance.

But there were times the other man displayed actions that were outside of the character of him she had built in her head.

Like how he held her back from following Ichida in the laser tag game. How he had been the one to place a hand on her shoulder when Ichida had taken his final breath - bringing her back to reality when she was about to descend into an endless pit of despair. When he made the choice to come back after he gained the information he wanted after the seven of clubs game. Michiko had thought he wanted nothing more than to be on his own again - but he proved her wrong.

And how he fixed her a remedy for her aching throat at that very moment.

It hadn't escaped her notice that he'd been watching her for the past couple of days. She may not be entirely of sound mind - her head permanently in a state of numbing white noise, creating an itch in the back of her mind that she couldn't alleviate. But she had caught the fleeting glimpses of the white fabric of his hoodie when he thought she wasn't aware of the constantly lurking shadow. Arata didn't admit it, but she knew he was in the basement the other night. His voice was in her head as clear as day.

His actions confused her.

He confused her.

"Thanks," she mumbled, taking the mug with a wavering glance at him. His expression remained blanked, yet his lips pressed together just a little more tightly than normal. She shifted her position on the end of the bed that she occupied, suddenly uncomfortable under his stern gaze. Her eyes drifted away from him, wandering around the room instead.

It was bigger than her and Kirika's room - he apparently got the luck of the draw, his room bordering on a suite. The room was long. Twin beds lay against the right wall. A coffee table, a sofa, and an armchair occupied a larger space by the window. The desk stood against the opposite wall to the sofa, and Chishiya had the armchair pushed next to it, where he currently sat. Indents pressed into the cream coloured carpet next to the window, where it previously lay.

Her eyes went to the window, watching the soft rays of sun filter through the drawn sheer curtain. A thought brushed her mind. "Why Arata?"

When she turned back to him, there was a curious furrow in his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Why target him like that? Like you're planning." She asked.

"Is it a problem that I am?" Chishiya responded, sitting forward, elbows on his knees.

Michiko pursed her lips before shaking her head, "No, it- it isn't." She wanted to mean it. That she had no issue with Chishiya using the man as a pawn - if it's what was necessary. But the words tasted rotten in her mouth after what he had done for her the other night. "It's just, why him specifically?"

The man hummed, before leaning back in his seat, "Arata Kento is a nervous man, and there's a deep sense of naivety within him. He's currently emotionally fragile, and that makes him extremely vulnerable. Which is what we need. He's quite close with Hatter and our esteemed leader seems to put a great value on him. Which means he's likely to have information that could prove very vital to us." A smirk graced his lips. "He has a gentle and honest nature that makes him susceptible to manipulation. I've started working on getting him to trust me. He seems to crave a certain type of attention. As long as I give him that, I can mold him to my liking."

Nodding along with his works, Michiko looked pensive as she considered everything he said, "So, you get him to trust you enough for you to turn him against Hatter and share sensitive information with us?"

"That's the plan." Chishiya nodded. "We're lucky enough that there's a resentment already buried in him. Hatter did kill his friend, after all." Michiko dipped her head.

"So we rinse him for information, then leave him behind in the dust?" At her words, Chishiya nodded. A pit of guilt opened up in Michiko's stomach and she forced it back down. Arata had been nothing but kind to them and helped them from the moment they landed in this world.

"He has also taken a shine to you, it seems. Which could also prove beneficial." Chishiya spoke up again, eyes boring into her.

Swallowing uncomfortably, Michiko bit her lip slightly. "He's nice." When Chishiya raised his eyebrow, she continued, "Too nice."

"You're correct. That kind streak of his could get him killed if he isn't careful. So we need to do our best to keep him alive whilst he still remains useful to us," Chishiya said.

"And if he outlives his usefulness?" Michiko clutched the mug tighter, the tea having cooled enough to warm her hands comfortably.

The corner of Chishiya's lips tilted upward, into the cunning smile he always wore. "Then he isn't our concern anymore."

Michiko swallowed again, the action stabbing at her already ravaged throat. Taking a sip from the mug, the honey-like texture soothed it minutely.

It wasn't that Michiko wanted to hurt Arata. Far from it. The man had been nothing but consideration and genuine sympathy. Altruistic to a fault. He didn't deserve that kind of deception.

But he was still a stranger.

In the end, it was him or them. She had made that choice after signing the metaphorical contract to aid Chishiya's schemes. If she didn't see them through, there was no doubt it her mind he'd cast her aside with ease as well.

She gulped back that dreaded guilt and looked back up at Chishiya. "So, we need to continue to get close with him, then."

"That would be ideal. As well as anyone else that may be close to Hatter, or the higher numbered executives. We need to gather as much information and gain as much trust as possible until I can become an executive. Once I achieve that, we may have more solid knowledge about how Hatter's inner circle works, and once we do, we can solidify the plan further. These are just the bare bones of it." For 'bare bones,' it was still fairly intricate. But she supposed that summed up Chishiya. The man was just as complicated as his schemes. "There are many questions I still have. As you said earlier, Hatter hides the cards in a location only he knows. I need to figure out how to find this location, which I'm sure will be clear if I join his inner circle."

Nodding, Michiko breathed heavily, "Here's to us traitors, then." She chuckled humorlessly, and Chishiya nodded, smirking in response.

"Here's to us traitors."

The guilt continued gnawing away at her uncomfortably, but she pushed it aside as she showered. Chishiya was generous enough to allow her to use his bathroom, but not without a quip. "I'd recommend it before you go back out there. You smell horrendous."

It was then she'd realised just how neglectful she'd been of her hygiene. She couldn't actually remember the last time she washed. In her defense, it hadn't been the most pressing issue she'd faced in the past couple of days.

She didn't allow Chishiya to get away with the jest. "Take your own advice. That hair looks like it hasn't seen water in weeks." She shut the bathroom door before he could respond. But his glare burned through the wood.

The most startling and horrifically grounding sight met her when she turned. Mirrors were a subject of caution for Michiko - her reflection stirred in her a certain level of self-hatred because of who she resembled. But the picture reflected before her told a terrifying tale.

Blotchy blue and purple bruises, shaped like hands, were the first sight her eyes went to. Chishiya was right when he said they looked particularly nasty. Sunken, gaunt cheeks and deep blue circles running under her eyes - a sign of the lack of sleep and proper nutrition. This world had not been kind to her body. She had not been kind to herself - neglectful as she was of her own needs - in the past few days. The oversized hoodie she donned made her look even smaller than she already was. For a moment, instead of her father's image that she usually saw, Michiko was that ten-year-old child again.

No wonder Chishiya and Arata had taken some semblance of pity on her. No wonder Kirika was so determined to make her see sense. Anger and grief had resulted in this vision before her.

She grabbed a white towel off the rack by the shower, stuffing the ends into the top of the mirror. Her shoulders sank a little with ease when the reflection was gone.

Avoidance. Her oldest friend. But she could keep avoiding everything for the rest of time. One day it would catch up to her.

But that was not today. She turned on the shower.

♤♡◇♧

He had sent her away from his room with a task and a promise. Her task was to worm her way to Arata's side, find out who his friends were, and also find out anyone else who may be an important player within the unpredictable politics of the Beach. The promise...

"Is there anything else you need to know?"

"One more thing."

"What is it?"

"Is there any room within this plan to get back at Niragi? Before we get out of here? I need him to pay for what he did."

"If you get the opportunity and as long as it doesn't interfere with the plan, I wouldn't mind if he met such a fate. But remember, this plan does require some level of discretion. Don't draw unnecessary attention to yourself."

And so Michiko found herself for the first time since joining the Beach, entering the fray.

The sun was high in the sky. Michiko estimated it was around noon. But the early afternoon hours did not discourage the Beach's residents from descending into depravity with a fierceness that rivaled Dionysus' feasts.

The lobby turned nightclub was the one place she refused to enter. Not after having witnessed what goes on there her first day. Instead, she stuck to the outside pool, observing from the edges of the porch. Music blared in her ears, drowning out the numbing static in Michiko's head. The surrounding people jumped up and down, enthralled in the bass, their skin glowing in the heat of the sun. None stood out to her - a maze of blank faces. Mindless ants that made up Hatter's colony.

Her skin itched, prickling in goosebumps as the sensation of eyes falling onto her overtook her senses. Trying to remain discreet, she searched her surroundings, investigating the crowd to find the offending eyes. She caught sight of two girls sitting close on a beach chair. Both sets of eyes fixated upon her. Watched her obtrusively with blank expressions. She almost shivered under the heavily vacant stares.

They appeared not much older than herself - definitely high school age. One sported a short bob that rested at her shoulders, the other had longer wavy hair. Neither of them reacted to the crazed surroundings, continuing to stare at Michiko like she was a marvelous curiosity that had landed in front of them. Bewildering them.

When those doll-like gazes became too uncomfortable, she averted her eyes from the two girls. Only to crash into the figure that had placed itself in her line of direction. She stumbled back slightly at the sudden appearance, blinking up at the person. The girl in front of her looked down at her with wide, curious eyes and an impish grin. Her brown hair was long with a slight wavy kink, soft bangs cut to rest above her eyebrows.

"Hi," she greeted jovially, "You're Michiko, right? I've heard a lot about you."

Michiko gulped under the other girl's gaze. "You have?" She asked.

"Mhm." The other girl nodded. "I heard about you from Mori! And my brother met you briefly the other night. Mori said you've survived two hearts games." Out of nowhere - discarding all rules of respectful greeting - she gripped at Michiko's shoulders. With her personal bubble so intensely invaded, her breath hitched in her throat. Bristling at the close contact, her hands instinctively went up to push the unknown girl away. Her grip was iron. "What's it like? I haven't had the chance to play a hearts game yet, but I imagine they'd be fun."

Michiko swallowed awkwardly, disturbed by the girl's enthusiasm, before replying, "They're not really fun, trust me."

"They aren't?" The other girl's smile dropped into a frown. "Aww, but I thought they would be. Mira always says they're fun." Michiko was already questioning the girl's sanity if she was listening to what Mira said. "Anyway, onto more important matters." She finally released her hands and Michiko's shoulders slumped in relief. The other girl stuck her hand out with the same enthusiasm she'd greeted Michiko with, "I'm Hamada Tsuyomi. You met my younger brother Tsuyoshi the other night. You can just call me Yomi, though. Everyone does."

Nodding hesitantly, Michiko reached her hand out to meet the other girls, Tsuyomi clutching on tightly and shaking it, "I'm Michiko, but I guess you already knew that."

Tsuyomi nodded, leaning in close again as she let go of her firm grip on Michiko's hand, "Mori mentioned the executives are keeping a close watch on you and your friends. He says that you have potential."

Eyebrows scrunching, Michiko asked, "Mori?"

"Ah yes! You'll probably know him as Aguni. Only certain people call him Mori," Tsuyomi replied. A light flickered inside Michiko's mind. Aguni. As in the same Aguni that led the militant faction. And based on what she had just revealed, Tsuyomi was close to Aguni. Tsuyomi could be a potential target for information.

Just as long as she stopped grabbing onto Michiko without asking first.

Nodding, Michiko fought to bite back the smirk that threatened to rise at her lips. "Ah yes. Aguni. He was the one that brought me here."

"I think he likes you." Tsuyomi suddenly spilled, bumping her shoulder, "your actions impressed him in the games. He thinks you might have what it takes to be a militant."

Michiko raised her eyebrows at that comment. So she had caught the attention of the militant leader. This could've been the opportunity that Chishiya had told her to look out for. Both in terms of the plan, and serving her own agenda. If she could become a militant, that meant she would have access to information if she appealed to Aguni. And she would have access to weapons, which would help her in her vendetta against Niragi. The playing field would level out.

The opportunity was right in front of her. Befriending Tsuyomi, she would place herself in close proximity to the militant leader. Until the girl dashed her dreams.

"Though he did come back from that meeting the other night really annoyed. Apparently Mira had appealed to Hatter about you being named a hearts specialist. Which means Aguni can't recruit you. Something about 'hearts specialists being valuable and by placing you in the militants you'd be in danger or something'." Unfortunately, the opportunity of levelling the current mountain - mountain being Niragi's rifle - between her and Niragi was dashed.

But when one door closes, another can open.

Tsuyomi's ability to ramble was becoming a valuable factor in gleaning her for information. "I can't really remember the details, though. I know Yoshi told me everything, but I wasn't really paying attention to half of it."

The girl's demeanor completely shifted with the change of the song, becoming even more upbeat if possible. "Wait, I love this song!" Without warning, Tsuyomi enclosed Michiko's hand in another tight grip, pulling her to follow in her blazing trail, "Let's go!" She tugged away as Tsuyomi led her into the throng of the crowd, attempting to free her arm from the other girl's constricting grip.

The hanging thread snapped.

Tsuyomi rambled on about nothing in particular as she led the way - a force of nature that could rival the fiercest hurricane. But her voice could not reach through the static in Michiko's ears. Shifting bodies and nameless faces surrounded her; leering. Peering through the cracks of her fractured soul. Her skin crackled, ice filling her veins.

Her breath choked inside her throat, sending a fresh wave of needles rushing down it.

Distantly, she was aware of being spun around by her arms. Tsuyomi's hands were on her shoulders, burning painfully through the layer of frost.

Her mouth moved as she shouted over the music, but the static remained steadfast - a barrier nothing else could breach. Not Tsuymoi's words. Or the pounding music. Not even the shouting partygoers. Michiko shook her head, tugging her hands forcefully away from Tsuyomi.

She couldn't breathe.

The thumping bass of the music ran through the concrete and up Michiko's spine - the pace of her heart accelerating to match it.

There was too much going on. Too many people. Too many people pretending things were okay. Things were not okay. Nothing was ever going to be okay again. She had to get out. She shoved her way through the faceless people, chest tightening into her throat with the undulating anxiety rushing through her lungs.

A solid surface hit her, trembling hands automatically going out to steady herself. Her vision tunneled. She could hardly make out her surroundings. Everything was blurry.

She couldn't breathe. Static in her ears.

There was a hand on her back. She flinched at the contact. "Get the fuck off me!" Her hand whipped around to strike out at the offender.

A boy's figure stumbled back, throwing his hands up in surrender. His mouth shaped into a surprised 'o' as he stared her down. Michiko's breath still hadn't calmed down. Her vision remained clouded. The boy's hands lowered slightly, a placating gesture as he allowed Michiko her space. His voice broke through the static in her ears. "It's alright, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Tsuyomi shuffled up beside him, biting at her lip anxiously. Michiko felt small under her wide-eyed gaze. The boy turned to her, and his mouth moved, words muffled slightly by the remaining ringing in her ears. "Yomi, how many times have I told you! Your approach is too forceful."

"I was just trying to make friends with her, Yoshi. I didn't mean to make her panic." Tsuyomi replied rather indignantly. Michiko's eyes slipped away from them, the clouding of her vision passing with each second outside the crowd. The frantic pace of her rabbit's heart still lingered.

A vague outline of a hand waved in front of her face. Michiko's vision finally fell back into full focus, the ringing dying down inside her ears. As clear as a bell, the boy's voice filtered through. "Hey, hey! You still in there? Everything's okay now. You aren't in the crowd anymore."

She forced out an even breath through her nostrils before her gaze flickered up to his face. His shaggy haircut and glassy, dark eyes were instantly recognisable. It was the boy from the other night, who accompanied Kirka to her game alongside Aguni. Now that she had the time to study his face closer, she could see the resemblance between him and Tsuyomi easily. The same high cheekbones and deep set jawline graced both their faces. They could've been twins. She figured he must be the younger brother Tsuyomi mentioned.

The boy smiled gently down at her. "Glad you're back. Sorry about my sister. She can be quite forward and too forceful at times. She claims it's part of her charm." The easiness of his voice calmed her somewhat. His use of humour to deflect Michiko's anxious demeanor had her shoulder sagging with relief.

Tsuyomi whacked the boy's arm lightly. "Hey! Don't disrespect your older sister like that."

"You act more like the younger sister, so I'll disrespect you as much as I like." The boy muttered back, returning the hit lightly. Tsuyomi pouted as she rubbed the spot that he hit, faking injury. Michiko's breath evened out, but there was still a tightness in her chest that wasn't easing up as she watched the siblings argue.

She attempted to shake off what just happened, opting to ignore the way she had frozen up at merely being trapped in a crowd. She had survived multiple death games - committed vile acts in the name of survival - and this was what paralyzed her? Embarrassing. She vowed she'd never speak of this moment again. Avoiding the issue once more. A stack of avoidances that would catch up.

"Apologise, Tsuyomi. You came on too strong once again. You were the one that wanted to be friends with her. Don't scare her away." The boy bit back at his sister. The girl bit her lip and rolled her eyes before turning directly to Michiko.

"I'm sorry for forcing you into that situation. I didn't think you would react like that, and I promise never to do it again." She rattled off, tilting her head back to her brother. "There, happy?"

"It'll do I guess." The boy shook his head with a click of the tongue before turning his attention back to Michiko. Noticing that she had resigned herself to quietly staring between the two siblings - eyes still showing traces of bewilderment - he nodded his head away from the partying crowd. "Want to get out of here? We can go somewhere quieter if you want?" He asked.

Hesitance laced her mind. This boy was a stranger. But the need to escape the steadily rising din of the crowd took precedence over any mistrust. Her head nodded hesitantly. Michiko glanced down as the boy held out his hand in offering. Gulping down the tightness in her chest, she placed her hand in his and the boy squeezed gently. Michiko didn't know how to feel about the comforting gesture. Turning, he pulled her along with much less force than his hurricane sister.

He threw one last comment back to Tsuyomi over his shoulder, "Grab us some drinks before you join us, won't you?"

Tsuyomi shouted her reply from behind them. "Fine, oh wise younger brother!"

The boy ignored her completely, scoffing slightly and shaking his head. His grip remained steadfast but never constricting on Michiko's hand as he led her up the stairs. The pathway he took had become quite familiar to her by now. She appreciated the gesture, comfortable in knowing she could at least free herself from his hold whenever she wished.

It was not long later that they broke out onto the roof of the hotel. The sun glared down mercilessly from its place above them; the heat emanating through the fabric on her shoulders. When they found themselves by the ledge, Michiko finally withdrew her hand from the boy's grip, placing it snugly in her pocket.

She slumped down against the ledge, the sharp edge digging into her back. Focusing on steadying her breathing, she twisted her thumb at the ring on her finger, seeking refuge in the feel of a familiar object. Scuffling footsteps reached her ears, and she felt the boy sit to her right. Out of her periphery, she could see that he had put a comfortable enough distance between them - something she immensely appreciated at that moment. His hands fidgeted on his lap, anxiously.

"I-" The silence between them broke with his clear as a bell voice, "I'm sorry for Yomi. She gets very excited when meeting new people and doesn't really understand boundaries. This world's lack of rules has only made her enthusiasm worse."

"It's fine." Michiko mumbled, refusing to acknowledge what had just happened down in the pool area. She would rather just forget it. Heat creeped up her cheeks in embarrassment when she thought about it. Avoid the issue. Add it to the stack.

The boy hummed and nodded his head, understanding that Michiko would rather not talk about it. "I'm Tsuyoshi, by the way. We met briefly the other night. Yomi's my older sister."

"I remember." Michiko claimed. It was a half truth. She remembered his face, not his name. "I'm Michiko."

"I know." The boy nodded again. "I've heard all about you."

Turning her head to look at him with frowning eyes, she remembered what Tsuyomi had said earlier. About Aguni apparently speaking highly of her. Michiko asked, "From Aguni?"

Tsuyoshi shook his head. "From your friend Kirika, actually. We played in the games together that night we met. She had a lot of good things to say about you."

There was a sharp pang in Michiko's heart at the mention of Kirika's name.

It wasn't that she had been avoiding the other girl since yesterday's conversation on the roof. That was a lie. She was totally avoiding her. But at the current moment, Michiko's emotions were in a shattered state of confusion. Kirika's startling confession of being close to ending her life - as well as her admission of being glad to be in this world - had her mind reeling once more.

Kirika cared. That much was obvious. But Michiko was unsure why she cared - and so deeply at that. To speak so highly of her. Attempting to stop her vengeful plots against Niragi because she feared Michiko getting killed over it. The girl was a riddle; one Michiko wasn't of sound enough mind to figure out.

"I see," was all she said in reply to Tsuyoshi.

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two once more, neither knowing what to say to switch the sticky subject. Luckily, a tornado crashed through the door, leaving chaos in her wake. There was a pattern forming with the wayward girl.

"I'm back! What did I miss?" Tsuyomi practically kicked the metal door to the roof open, letting it clang loudly on the hinges. Holding aloft three green bottles between her fingers, Tsuyomi skipped to the duo sitting by the ledge. The merry smile hadn't left her face. Positioning herself in front of Michiko, she thrust one bottle down to her. "Here, to make up for earlier. You look like you need it."

Michiko looked at the bottle and read the label with a disdainful glint in her eye. "I'm underage." She said in a deadpan tone.

Tsuyomi shrugged, "And? So am I, technically. You act like rules exist here." She shook the bottle slightly, her gaze expectant. "Do what you like. Have a little fun. As I said, you look like you could use a drink."

Huffing, Michiko grabbed the bottle by the neck to appease her. Taking a swig, she spat the bitter liquid out as soon as it hit her tongue. There was a giggle as she sputtered and wiped at her chin. "Not to your tastes, then?" Tsuyomi teased.

Michiko looked up at her with a soft glare. "That was foul."

"It's not the best tasting thing, but at least it gets you drunk." Tsuyomi handed a second bottle over to her brother, who took it but didn't drink. Instead, he set it down at his side.

She watched curiously as Tsuyomi jumped up on the ledge, balancing across to the corner of the roof and back, swigging down her beer as she went. Every so often she wobbled, and then giggled to herself when she found her centre of balance again.

"Yomi, I've asked a hundred times. Can you please stop doing that? One of these days, you're going to fall." Tsuyoshi scolded from his spot, looking over Michiko's figure and eyeing his sister in concern. He truly did act the part of the older brother, attempting to herd an unruly younger sister. Reality was a far cry from that dynamic.

"But it's so fun, Yoshi." Tsuyomi whined, lips twisting in a petulant pout.

Scrunching up her eyebrows, Michiko tilted her head back around to Tsuyoshi. "Yoshi? You're seriously nicknamed after the fucking Mario character?"

Tsuyoshi rolled his eyes, taking a long drink from his bottle. He acted like he'd heard the same joke a hundred times before. That was highly likely. "A very unfortunate byproduct of my name."

A quiet laugh escaped Michiko. "That's so stupid."

"I think it's adorable." Tsuyomi swiftly balanced her way over to Tsuyoshi's side, brushing behind Michiko's head as she went. She leaned a hand down and ruffled the boy's shaggy hair. "My adorable baby Yoshi. That's what I used to call him when we were kids. My little dinosaur."

The boy swiped at her hands as she dropped down, grabbing him in a gentle headlock and continuing to mess up his hair. Tsuyoshi voiced his protests, hitting at her arms as the older girl laughed. Michiko swallowed as a pang of envy swept through her, unsettling her stomach. Watching the siblings interact swept many possibilities through her mind. Often she had wondered how life may have been if she grew up with a sibling of her own. Perhaps then the sting of loneliness would not have hit her as harshly.

"How'd you guys end up here, anyway?" The siblings stopped their playful bantering as they turned around to her. "You've implied that you've learned about me from other people. I wanna know more about you." She had played along with their game for now - but it was time to get to work.

The siblings glanced at each other, an unspoken conversation passing between them. A pensive expression overtook Tsuyomi's face as she clambered back up on the ledge, taking out a small carton from her back pocket. She drew a cigarette from the packet, placing it between her lips and reaching into her other back pocket for a lighter. Clicking it, the flame flickered to life, and it burned the end of the cigarette.

Her arms spread out as she continued on with her balancing act.

"We were out shopping with our dad when everyone disappeared. Yomi decided it would be a good idea to hide out in the mall's toilets, and dad sent me to collect her. When we came back, everyone else had vanished, along with him." He paused, collecting his thoughts as the acrid smell of tobacco began permeating the air, Tsuyomi breathing in hasty drags from her cigarette. The smoke scratched at the back of Michiko's throat. "We spent the entire day searching for him, before being forced into the games that night. We were confused, but managed to survive. It was low level. And we met Mori and Hatter in that game."

Nodding, Michiko stored the information as the tang of smoke became stronger. It smothered her like a blanket as Tsuyomi turned around on the ledge, wobbling her way back. She was only half listening to what her brother was saying.

A level of discomfort that hovered over Michiko as the smell became stronger, prying under her skin.

Mahiru used to smoke. Michiko would always go back to her house, met with the same burning stench. It would cling to the woman's clothes.

"We ended up sticking with them after the game. And we stayed with them as they founded the Beach. We've been here ever since, hoping to find a way back home to our dad." Tsuyoshi finished.

"So you're close to them?" Michiko asked, keeping her tone gentle. Unassuming. Something she'd seen Chsihiya do when he voiced his questions.

Rubbing his lips together, Tsuyoshi nodded. "Mori, more so. Hatter started ignoring us once he labelled himself as the Beach's number one. Mori has always looked out for us, though. He may seem scary, but he's been good enough to us."

"That's because he's awesome!" Tsuyomi piped up, flicking her cigarette butt over the side of the roof. She hopped back down, sitting herself beside her brother again. Her expression flipped back to the cheerful persona she'd greeted Michiko with. The one eighty turn around gave Michiko whiplash. "As long as he vibes with you, he won't do anything. And he seems to like you, so you'll be good with him."

"It's the people like Niragi and Nobustoshi you have to look out for," Tsuyoshi said.

"You don't like them either?" Michiko asked, her interest piquing.

Tsuyoshi scoffed, shaking his head, "Not many do. A lot of people hate them, actually. But they have power and they have guns. People do what they have to out of fear. They get away with far too much."

"Fucking cunts." Tsuyomi grumbled under her breath, pulling another cigarette out and absentmindedly rubbing it against her lip.

Michiko pocketed the information in the back of her mind. With the collective hatred, perhaps she could get more people on board with her sought-after revenge. She'd be doing all of them a favour.

"I should warn you... I think Nobutoshi has set his sights on your friend Kirika. I saw him talking to her the night of the games. She seemed uneasy." Tsuyoshi commented, and Michiko met his concerned gaze, brow furrowing.

"Who the fuck is Nobutoshi?" She asked. She hadn't heard of him at all yet.

"He and Niragi stick together like glue. They're both as bad as each other and only spur each other on. They're a dangerous duo to get on the bad side of - or catch the attention of. Kirika seems like a really nice girl and I don't want her to get hurt." Tsuyoshi pressed his lips together, "There's only so much we can do, though. The both of them are executives."

Michiko was really questioning the decisions of the Beach's leadership. Power only infected the minds of sick people like Niragi - and Nobutoshi for that matter - even further. They fed off it like the apple in the Garden of Eden. Like Pomegranates of the Underworld.

And this Nobustoshi guy was apparently a threat to Kirika. The fact twisted Michiko's heart, wringing at her anger.

Tsuyomi thrusted the carton of cigarettes under her nose. She blinked, looking up to find the other girl's gaze on her. "Here, do you want one? I saw you eyeing them earlier."

Reeling slightly from the sudden switch in topic, Michiko could swear on her mother's grave that she hadn't been staring at Tsuyomi's cigarettes. But she figured this may be the girl's attempt at forming a friendship.

Building a friendship with the two siblings might be in her best interest - a chance to keep tabs on Aguni, one of the highest numbered executives and the leader of the militants. They had already provided her with quite the wealth of information. Keeping them close could be beneficial.

The thought startled her, that she was beginning to sound like Chishiya.

Staring at the box, she gulped hesitantly, torn over what to do. Her hand reached out and plucked a cigarette from the box, examining it warily.

The older girl grinned, "So, cigarettes are your vice then?" She tilted her head curiously, like a dog.

Shrugging, Michiko looked down, an embarrassed heat flushing her cheeks. In her attempt to deflect from it, she grabbed the lighter that Tsuyomi proffered to her. "I don't know." She looked back up at the other girl, "Let's find out, I guess."

Tsuyomi huffed a laugh. "Don't worry. There's no judgement here. Everyone has their own vice. Their own way of relieving the stress and fear this world causes." Her eyes glazed over, going distant briefly in a creeping film of emptiness.

Michiko found her eyes flickering to Tsuyoshi, whose troubled gaze bore into the side of his sister's head. There was a deep worry in those eyes. She hummed as she lit the end of the cigarette, watching the flickering flame of the lighter for a long moment - eyes entranced by the orange glow.

She breathed in a drag of tobacco. The smoke burned her lungs.

♤♡◇♧

By the time the sun set, the Beach was at its peak of excitement. Michiko passed by residents caught up in enthusiastic chatter. They headed to the lobby, the siren to announce the beginning of that night's games having gone off just a couple of minutes beforehand. She was glad she didn't have to join in for the night. Another game so soon may snap what remained of her sanity.

She had accumulated enough VISA days that she didn't have to worry for another little while. She couldn't remember the exact number, but she knew it was plenty enough for the time being.

Her eyes burned, beginning to itch. The burning sensation from the cigarette added to the scratch of her throat, its acrid taste still on her tongue. The throes of fatigue began to set in and her body was flagging.

Within the excitement of the games, Michiko dragged herself unseen down to the basement. She curled herself up in her corner behind the generators. The cement was uncomfortable, but it was at least warm. Michiko had slept in much rougher conditions.

Balling her hoodie up - her backpack lay abandoned in Chishiya's room - she placed it underneath her head, hugging her arms close, thumb twisting her mother's ring. The humming of the generators ceased the constantly writhing thoughts in her head. Tiredness won out - finally pulling her into a deep sleep.

A harsh kick at her leg woke her abruptly. Startled, she shot up with a curse, breath hitching as her eyes found the offender. Looking down upon her with his usual dark, condescending gaze, hands in their preferred place in his pockets, was Chsihiya. They stared at each other for a moment, and a shadow of confusion settled over Michiko as she looked up at him.

"Have you enjoyed making a career out of being an idiot lately?" The older man asked her.

Blinking up at him, Michiko didn't know how to respond. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Clicking his tongue, he shook his head minutely before leaving the room. When he reached the doorway, his head turned back towards her, levelling her with an expectant stare. "Are you going to move anytime today?"

He stalked off again. With a newfound sense of urgency prickling at her feet, Michiko grabbed her hoodie, pulling it on as she followed behind the blonde. He led the two of them back to his room, the space cast in a warm glow from the lamps on the desk and by the bed. The white curtains had been drawn tightly over the window, blocking out the outside world and its horrors.

Chishiya gestured off-handedly to the second bed - the one nearer the coffee table and sofa. "You can have that one as long as you stay quiet and don't bother me." With that comment, he sat down in his chair by the desk, picking up the device that he'd been tinkering away with earlier. Now she examined it clearly, it looked strangely like one of the older models of music listening devices that Michiko didn't know the name of. He plucked a screwdriver from the desk, settling into his quiet work.

Lowering herself uneasily on the edge of the bed, Michiko studied him for a moment. His expression oddly softened as he worked away at the intricate wires of his project. It was a look she hadn't seen come across his features - ever. His eyes suddenly flickered back to her, and she averted her gaze quickly, embarrassed heat creeping up her cheeks from being caught staring. "Don't make me change my mind." His voice filtered through the silence, "And don't read too much into this. I'm simply doing what someone else said and keeping my tools sharp."

Scrunching her eyebrows, she tilted her head back to him, "Tools sharp?"

"I'd rather not have my accomplice get herself killed because she did something stupid, like leaving herself vulnerable to attack. Something like sleeping in a basement where anyone could find her," Chishiya continued, voice remaining even with a slight patronising edge underneath. "Whilst I could carry this plan out on my own, I'd rather not. And I'd rather not go through the trouble of finding a new ally."

"I was hardly out in the open." Michiko mumbled, the sarcastic comment meant to be only for her ears.

But naturally Chishiya picked up on it. "You left yourself open enough. Anyone could've wandered down there. Just be thankful I was there before anyone else."

The quip had a note of finality to it, and Michiko allowed herself to flop back onto the mattress with a sigh, "Don't worry, oh smart one. I wouldn't ever dare to think that you care." She shifted herself around, rolling to face away from him. "I'm well aware that the only person you care about is yourself."

"Get some sleep brat."

Michiko did. She fell asleep to the soft sounds of Chishiya's tinkering.

And for the first time since she arrived at the Beach, she slept somewhat peacefully.

Chapter Text

DAY 16

♤♡◇♧

For the first time in a long time, the memory she dreamed of was a serene one.

It was the third day after the seven of clubs game. The group of four had abandoned the camping store that very morning, beginning their mission to find any glimpse of a community built in this empty world. The plan was to head from their current location in Shinjuku down to Minato, beginning their search along the coastline, making their way along to Shinagawa and Ota, planning to double back if they found nothing. If there was indeed a community of people called the Beach, they deduced it might lie along the coastline.

It had taken them nearly two hours just to reach Minato. The bikes they had collected could carry all four of them, and Ichida had suggested they double up. But Chishiya - in all his stand-offish glory - had claimed he'd rather walk. The image of him clinging into Ichida's waist on the back of the bike was indeed a humorous one, but one Michiko doubted she'd ever see. In the interest of diplomacy, Ichida had decided that they would all walk.

Sweat dripped down the back of her neck as they walked under the burning glare of the sun, the days only getting hotter as the summer was in full swing. They had found nothing in Minato. The only signs of life that had come across their path were some rabbits that had wandered too far from their habits, growing bold in the lack of human presence in the city. They decided it would be best to find somewhere in Minato to settle for the night, continuing on to Shinagawa.

They selected a rendevouz point and set out into two teams. Ichida and Chishiya had volunteered to find somewhere to stay, whilst Michiko and Kirika raided the local convenience stores for edible food.A couple of packs of stale ramen and some pre-packaged snacks, with enough sugar to keep them preserved even in the hellish heat. Michiko had finished stuffing as much as she could in the little space in her backpack. The patches on it were fraying and ready to fall off, the item having shared in all the stress she had gone through in this world.

Zipping it up, she moved to find her companion. A bright pink box caught her eyes. Rectangular shaped, with comical writing and little caricatures on the front. Her hand went out before she could stop it, picking up the box of strawberry pocky. Kirika had been complaining about running out all day and the whining was making her sick. Perhaps this would placate the other girl. That was the reasoning she gave herself for picking it up as she went to locate her.

She on the other side of the store, gazing longingly at the unlit fridges - another victim of the city wide electrical power cut. Resembling a downtrodden puppy, Kirika grabbed a carton of strawberry milk from the shelves, staring down at the carton. Her glazed over eyes spoke of a subtle tragedy. There was a melancholic smile curled on her lips.

Gulping, Michiko spoke up hesitantly, grabbing the girl's attention away from the carton of strawberry milk that was undoubtably no longer safe to drink. "You really like strawberries, don't you?"

Kirika let out a soft gasp, head whipping round to Michiko as she broke from her trance. Her eyes found Michiko's as her shoulders dropped. She shared a soft smile with her. "Yeah, sure, you could say that."

Michiko averted her eyes away from the smile. Three days had not quite gotten her used to Kirika's genuine, shining positivity. Her gaze flickered down to the box in her hand. "Here." Chucking the box over to Kirika, she watched the girl fumble desperately to catch the object as the sudden action surprised her.

A small chuckle slipped from Michiko at the other girl's startled expression - her widened eyes resembling a doe. She dropped the carton of strawberry milk in the process of attempting to catch the box. As it settled in her hands, she looked down at the strawberry Pocky that Michiko had gifted her.

A wide smile took over her face, her eyes glittering as they turned back to Michiko. "Thanks," she called out in appreciation. Heat flared up Michiko's cheeks.

"No problem." She muttered. Looking out the convenience store window, she saw the sun beginning to lower on the horizon. "We should get going or we'll be late to the meeting point."

Kirika nodded, grin still plastered on her face as Michiko turned to leave the store. The rustling of the packet of pocky opening as Kirika followed behind reached her ears. Under the blazing sun, the two girls left the store, carton of strawberry milk left forgotten on the ground.

When her eyes blinked open, she winced as her blurred vision caught the harsh light streaming through the curtains. The mattress underneath her was soft, and she wanted to stay lying on it forever. But the bright sunlight informed her it was time to get up. As she pushed herself into a seated position, the duvet slipped away from her shoulders and spilled onto her lap.

That was strange. She had no recollection of pulling the covers over herself at all the previous night. Instead, she had curled herself up over the top of them..

Her feet also felt oddly bare as she wiggled her toes. Pushing the covers away, she found that her shoes had been taken off, leaving her in her socks. Eyes searching the room, she spotted her trainers placed neatly at the end of her bed, and her eyebrows furrowed. She had done none of this herself, so did that mean Chishiya-

She stopped the thought before it even began. There was no way, but unless someone had snuck into the room last night, Chishiya was the only other person around to take off her shoes and place the cover over her. Maybe he was just worried about the sheets getting dirty. Something in his mannerisms told her he was a clean freak.

The blonde was nowhere to be found. When Michiko spied the closed bathroom door, a hint of shuffling emerged from behind the wood. Rising from the bed, her feet carried her to the desk, where Chishiya had been working the previous night. Her head tilted as she took in his project, the old music player. Michiko picked up the device to examine it. There were extra spokes added to the top, and the wiring was out in the open, a labyrinth of cables knitting around each other.

A hand reached out and plucked the object from her grasp, and she jumped silently. His quiet presence creeping up behind her had gone unnoticed - even the opening of the bathroom door hadn't reached her ears.

Chishiya looked down at her, eyes stern with annoyance as he placed the device carefully back on the desk. The message in his eyes was clear; don't touch my things.

Michiko met his glare as she clicked her tongue. "Sorry." She mumbled in a subtly sarcastic tone, turning back and slumping onto her assigned bed.

Chishiya sat back down in the chair, eyes fixed on her. "Did you manage to find anything out yesterday?" He asked.

Rolling her eyes, Michiko responded, "Wow, good morning to you too, I guess." She met Chishiya's gaze again. The wave of irritation that seeped out of him hit her full-force. He seemed extra frosty this morning.

"If you want niceties, then go find Arata." He quipped back.

Michiko huffed, "Maybe I will." Clicking her tongue, she answered his previous question. "I met the Hamada siblings yesterday. Or they rather accosted me. I found out that they've been with Hatter and Aguni since almost the beginning. They seem to be close to them, Aguni more so."

Humming, Chishiya considered her words. "And did you manage to make friends with them? If they're that close, they no doubt have something useful to share."

"I'm working on it. They seem to like me enough. Tsuyomi even said that Aguni had considered me joining the militants. He brought the subject to Hatter. But apparently because of my... skill-" That word burned her tongue, "In the hearts games, he was denied. I'm unsure of the entire reason, but- it would've been a good opportunity to infiltrate." At her words, Chishiya's expression perked up with interest, a glint forming in his eyes.

"A shame. If you had indeed infiltrated them, that would've been fairly useful to us. We'd be able to gain information from inside both factions once I became an executive. And you could've gotten your hands on a weapon," he nodded.

"And it could've gotten me close to Niragi." Michiko muttered bitterly, eyes glazing over with burning red.

The corner of Chishiya's mouth tilted up. "Just don't be reckless. I'd rather not lose someone so useful to me." Michiko's gaze met his. The icy calm in Chishiya's eyes infecting the scorching heat of hatred that simmered inside of her, settling it slightly. She nodded her head, pursing her lips. "In any case," Chishiya carried on, "We should keep going today, keep finding out what we can. The more we know about this place, the better."

Nodding, Michiko reached down to pick up her trainers. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Chishiya's attention flickering to her actions. Finding his gaze, she worked up the nerve and said, "I don't remember taking my shoes off last night." She broached the subject subtly. Chsihiya seemed to only deal with subtlety.

Chishiya averted his eyes, bouncing back to work on whatever project had his focus. "It wasn't me, if that's what you're thinking. Arata unexpectedly visited to check up on you. It was him who found you in the basement and informed me of your idiocy."

Feeling her cheeks burn in embarrassment, Michiko went back to pulling on her shoes. Of course it wasn't Chishiya, she was stupid to even consider the possibility. Hoping to escape the discomfort wriggling around inside of her, she made her way to the door, Chishiya saying nothing more as she left the room. He remained an enigma she couldn't figure out. Unbeknownst to her, he was having the same thoughts about her.

♤♡◇♧

The scorching sun beat down upon Michiko's back as she weaved through the crowds at the edge of the pool. The crowd still unnerved her. Especially after her attack after being pulled into the midst of the maze of bodies. Every single time someone brushed past her, a trail of goosebumps flared up on her arm. A monotonous base pumped through her brain - courtesy of the repetitive music.

The poolside was where she began her observations once again. Sticking to the edges of the packed crowds, she did her best to avoid people - to remain unseen. But people just seemed to draw themselves to her, many of them attempting to get her to join the festivities. A venomous glare was enough to get most of them to think twice.

Her eyes scanned the moving bodies, searching for familiar faces amongst the blurry features of the rest of the horde. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught wavy hair and animated features, and she focused on the figure. Tsuyomi was sitting on a deck chair, gesturing loudly to two other figures. It was the strange girls from the previous day, with the blank faces and the stalking eyes. They sat there, enraptured by what the other girl was saying, their own mouths chiming in on occasion. Michiko's head tilted as she watched them converse, before Tsuyomi caught her eye. The older girl swivelled her head around towards her, waving energetically.

Hesitantly, Michiko gave her an awkward wave back. The other two girls by Tsuyomi's side looked in the direction she was waving, catching Michiko in their twin doll-like gazes. Their soft expressions dropped into the same wary glances as they settled her with the previous day. The short-haired one in the yellow shirt grabbed the arm of the longer-haired one, quickly scarpering away. Tsuyomi watched them go, her face falling into a defeated pout. Brushing the look off her face, she flipped her lips back into a grin and sprinted towards Michiko.

"Sorry about Asahi and Momoka. They get nervous around new people." The older girl told her. Michiko hummed as Tsuymoi continued, linking her arm into Michiko's and dragging her along, "I've been trying to get them to open up since they arrived here cause I wanted to make more friends my age. They've been hard to win over, but I think I'm making progress."

"Did you know them from before?" Michiko asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing. Making friends was never her specialty.

Tsuyomi didn't seem to mind her awkward demeanor, shaking her head enthusiastically. She spoke enough for the two of them, allowing Michiko to stick to her stilted questions. "They turned up not long after the Beach formed. They kind of stick to themselves most of the time, but I've been chipping away at them. Now." She let go of her arm and turned to face her. "A little birdy told me you like skateboarding."

Michiko furrowed her eyebrows. "How did you know that?"

Tsuyomi grinned and leaned closer to her, "Because I watched you come back with one the other day, duh. It was another reason I wanted to be friends with you. You seem so cool!"

Trying not to feel unnerved by Tsuyomi essentially implying that she had been watching her for quite some time, Michiko nodded, "I see. Totally not creepy at all." She mumbled the last part beneath her breath.

"Come on." Tsuyomi grabbed her wrist, dragging Michiko inside and up a few sets of stairs. The sound of the two girls' feet hitting the carpeted floor echoed through the hallways. Witnessing Michiko's break in the crowd yesterday clearly hadn't deterred Tsuyomi's lack of consideration for boundaries. Particularly Michiko's boundaries.

They ran round a corner, Tsuyomi giggling as she pulled Michiko along. Abruptly, the soft giggles stopped when the girl came to a halt in front of a tall, imposing figure. Niragi also came to a halt, looking down at the older girl disdainfully, face curled into a menacing sneer. His usual weapon was absent, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Michiko's blood burned at the sight of him, fingers itching. "Watch where you're going brat." He spat down at Tsuyomi, who didn't shy away from his glare.

Rather, the girl met his gaze with a confident smirk, as if she was in on a secret Niragi wasn't privy to. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" She retorted, and Michiko's eyes widened at the lack of fear Tsuyomi was displaying. She had yet to see someone stand up to Niragi like this. Most residents seemed to be absolutely terrified of the feral man. That was a shared consensus.

But Tsuyomi was resolute. Her posture remained strong and her lack of fear astounding. There was a crazed glint in her eye that matched the danger before them. Eventually, it was Niragi who scoffed and averted his gaze, "Whatever." His eyes then landed on Michiko, who bristled as he smirked down at her. "Looks like the little mouse has made friends. Life at the Beach working out well for you then?" She gritted her teeth, doing her best not to bite back. Whilst it seemed that something held Niragi back from lashing out at Tsuyomi - most likely her closeness to Niragi's boss - that protection probably did not extend to her.

But Tsuyomi was refusing to let him have his amusement. She stepped in front of Michiko, shielding the younger girl from his shiver-inducing eyes. "Off-limits, Niragi." She spat, the smirk suddenly falling from her face, her glare becoming deadly. The carefree childish vision of Tsuyomi that Michiko knew so far had vanished, in its place was a panther; strong and dangerous. Coiled and ready to strike at any moment.

Clicking his tongue, Niragi met her glare, "You're lucky you have Aguni's protection, you foul little bitch." With that last statement, he stormed past the two girls, forcefully knocking Tsuyomi's shoulder. When he was around the corner and out of sight, Michiko relaxed her clenched jaw, breathing out.

Tsuyomi scoffed, "What a dick."

A brief laugh escaped Michiko. "Forgot that you also hate him."

"He's a real piece of shit. Sometimes I imagine shoving a hot poker up his asshole." Tsuyomi grinned at the violent image, and Michiko nodded, sucking on her teeth.

"Me too." The two girls shared a laugh at their shared resentment, but a pang shot through Michiko's heart.

It was a pain that roused anytime Niragi was seen or brought up. All it did was remind her of her own failures. Ichida's face would appear in the back of her mind, and the wave of regret would overtake her. Her laugh faded, and face fell, eyes becoming lost inside the memory of warmth and comfort she would never gain again.

There was a shake of her shoulder, pulling her out of the vision, Ichida's ghost fading from her mind. "Hey. All okay in there?"

Finding Tsuyomi's eyes, Michiko nodded. "Sorry." She apologised.

"It's okay." Tsuyomi grinned at her, "Sometimes I get lost inside my head too."

Before she could explain herself any further, Tsuyomi had Michiko's arm in her tight grip again, resuming their interrupted journey.

They came across a door to one of the many rooms, Tsuyomi bursting through it and pulling Michiko inside. A figure laid on one of the twin beds. Upon the door slamming against the wall, he jumped up, still covered by the duvet, eyes blinking heavily as he took in the two girls by the door. "Jeez Yomi, at least try to let me sleep for once, why don't you?" Tsuyoshi rubbed at his eyes, shaggy hair sticking up all over the place. "And let me know when you decide to bring over guests."

"Sorry Yoshi, just grabbing my board." Tsuyomi strode over to the corner, leaving Michiko hovering by the open door. The younger girl fidgeted, hands playing with the ring on her finger as Tsuyoshi's gaze turned back to her. The boy sent her a shy smile and a wave, which she returned, before he flopped back down on the bed.

Tsuyomi grabbed a long skateboard from the corner, before returning to Michiko's side. "See ya Yoshi."

"Bye." The boy drawled out, pulling the covers back over his head.

The two girls left the room, and as they strolled down the corridor, Tsuyomi held her skateboard out, showing Michiko the underside of it. "What do you think?"

The art reflected Tsuyomi herself. Pure chaos. Neon squiggles, and graffiti like zigzags, with some unintelligible words here and there and animated figures emerging from the patterns. It was a psychedelic jumbled mess. But there was a messy beauty in it.

"It's cool." Michiko said honestly, sending Tsuyomi a nod. The girl grinned widely, beaming at the compliment.

"Thanks!" she exclaimed. "I painted it myself. Took me weeks. Do you want to go grab yours?"

A sudden pit of dread emerged in Michiko's stomach, the blood draining from her face. Her board still lay in her and Kirika's shared room. The one she had been avoiding like the plague for two nights.

She stopped in her tracks, biting at her lip nervously. "Yeah, sure." She responded to Tsuyomi hesitantly.

She led the other girl further along the corridor, where their room was, stopping outside the door. Number 242. She could feel Tsuyomi's gaze burning on the side of her head.

"This is your room, isn't it?" The older girl asked. Michiko nodded. "So why are you standing outside the door looking like you're about to shit yourself?"

Turning her head to Tsuyomi with an offended scoff, she watched as the older girl just raised her eyebrows, a teasing smirk playing at her lips. "I- uh- I may be avoiding the person inside at the moment." She stuttered out.

"Why?" Tsuyomi asked incredulously.

Michiko sighed, setting her sights back onto the hard wood of the door, her gaze so intense she thought it may completely crumble. "I, um- my head is a bit of a mess right now. And it's confused about a lot of things. Her included." That was the short version. Michiko would rather not get into the long version.

Tsuyomi hummed before shrugging. "I think a lot of us have messy heads at the moment. Sometimes it's best to talk to people you care about, though. Maybe that will help with the confusion"

Huffing, Michiko turned back to her, "It's not that simple-"

"Do you care about her?" Michiko was taken aback by Tsuyomi's question, her voice cut off by the sudden abruptness of it.

"I-"

"Deep down, do you really care about her?" Michiko blinked. Her mind sent reeling. She hadn't faced this sort of directness before. It made her speak without hesitation because Tsuyomi's hard gaze gave her no time to think.

"I do." It was true. Somehow, in such a brief span of time, Kirika had wormed her way through the cracks in the wall around Michiko's heart. But that heart was a shattered mess - full of broken rubble that her brain couldn't sort through. The events of her past forever ruined Michiko. Whenever people tried to build her back up again, it didn't end well.

Kirika was trying. She had made so many attempts to stack the pieces together - to figure out the puzzle. How long would it be before it consumed her as well?

Tsuyomi smiled, a softer expression than her usual enthusiastic grin. "This life is too short to hold back on anything. You should hold the people you love close." She hummed, "We could die at any moment, so what's the point in distancing ourselves from people? If you died, or she died, do you really want your last moments with her to be full of painful memories? Wouldn't you be too full of regret that way?" There was a solid point to Tsuyomi's words. But Michiko would rather Kirika be a distant ache and alive, rather than dead and a painful stain on her soul.

Wanting to escape before another conversation about feelings upturning her mind, Michiko brought her fist up and knocked on the door. Waiting in anticipation, her toes tapped against the ground. There was no response from inside. "Well," she said, donning a nonchalant facade, "Looks like there won't be talking through our feelings right now."

She ignored the ache of disappointment that no voice called out from behind the door.

When she opened the door, she met the familiar sights. Kirika's stuff - items of clothing and her garish pink backpack - strewn all over her bed. There was an enormous pile of snacks on the table alongside some empty ramen tubs. Messiness was not something she had expected of the other girl. Yet another piece of the puzzle that was Endo Kirika.

In the corner, by the bed where Michiko had slept, someone left her compiled stuff untouched. Her skateboard lay propped against the wall - the cat throwing its rude gesture right at her. She picked the board up.

Tsuyomi practically jumped on the board in her hands immediately, "Woah, that's so cool." She ran her fingers over the art.

Michiko held it up for her to see, "I know, right?"

"Do you know any tricks?" Tsuyomi grinned up at her.

Shaking her head, Michiko said, "Not many. I tried to teach myself some, but it never really went well."

"I'll teach you then. "Michiko let the other girl grab her arm and drag her back to the nearest stairwell, the two girls sharing quiet laughs as they rocketed towards the stairs.

They remained unaware of the eyes that followed them, burning into their backs. A figure watched from the end of the corridor, eyes steeped in envy.

♤♡◇♧

The concrete scraped harshly at Michiko's skin as the board slipped out from underneath her yet again. She screamed in frustration, pulling herself up to sit, examining her scraped knees. The material of her hoodie had spared her elbows from injury - but the fabric hadn't. Dark marks littered the sleeves.

Michiko enjoyed skateboarding. But it appeared she wasn't fated to be a master of tricks.

Using it as a mode of transportation came easy. But she had a distinct lack of coordination that made teaching her to do an 'Ollie' impossible.

A giggle chimed in from the other side of the roof, and she watched Tsuyomi effortlessly demonstrate the trick, defying gravity for a moment before descending back down onto the rooftop. Michiko huffed, "How do you do it so easily?"

"Many years of practice." Tsuyomi, put her hand on her hips, stepping one foot off her board as she stopped by Michiko's side. "How long have you been skating?"

"Just a couple of months. Not long." She answered truthfully. She had found her original board abandoned in the street and thought it would be cool to learn. Taking it was an impulsive decision. Mahiru never would've bought her one. The woman had almost confiscated it as soon as it crossed her doorstep and always complained whenever she went out on it. She thought it made Michiko look like a delinquent.

"Well, it does take time. Took me months to learn how to do it consistently. But keep practicing. You'll get it one day." Tsuyomi's voiced verged on reassuring as she sat down on her board next to Michiko, rolling it side to side underneath her.

There was a moment of silence as both girls basked in the sun, the noise from the partying down below reaching the little self-made sanctuary on the rooftop.

"Do you think you'll talk things through with your friend, then?" Tsuyomi asked out of nowhere.

Michiko turned to hear, pursing her lips, before replying, "I don't know." She shrugged, crossing her legs and playing with her shoelaces when she felt the edges of discomfort creeping upon her. "It's a... complicated situation."

"How can it be that complicated when you clearly care about her?" Tsuyomi said, "If she died - or you died in the games, I think you would regret not clearing the air. If I got into an argument with Tsuyoshi... and he died in the games and I'd never made up with him... I'd never forgive myself." The older girl shrugged, a soft, bittersweet smile playing at her lips.

Michiko's gut twisted. Tsuyomi was right, in a way. The back of her mind told her so. But everyone around Michiko had died - everyone she cared about. Her mother. Ichida. If Kirika was next, Michiko didn't know what she'd do. Countless nights she had mourned the loss of home, mourned her cracked and shattered heart. Finding it again, only for it to slip through her stained grasp... Her ruined heart couldn't take it again.

But there was a part of her that ached for the girl's sunshine presence. It had provided a warm hearth that Michiko's life was devoid of.

"I'll have to think about it." Was all she said. Risk the attachment and the potential loss? Or continue to avoid her feelings?

The door to the rooftop clattering open interrupted their conversation. Tsuyoshi stumbled through, his hands full of cans of soda. Some snack packets swung from where he held them between his teeth.

"Good- " Tsuyomi pretended to check a non-existent watch "- morning to you, my dear little brother. Have a nice sleep?" Tsuyomi piped up, her hands waving in the air as Tsuyoshi deposited his finds between the two girls. Taking the packets from his teeth, he half glared at Tusyomi.

"I did actually, no thanks to you." He picked up a can, popping it open, the sizzle of the carbonated drink escaping into the air. "And it's not even morning anymore."

"Time is a man-made concept, Yoshi. It can still be morning in my eyes." Tsuyomi picked up her own can, opening it and chugging down the soda. Once half her drink was gone, she stopped, letting out a sigh of contentment. "Though I wish you'd gotten beer instead so I can start getting drunk."

"You know the rules, Yomi." Tsuyoshi reprimanded, "No drinking or drugs-" He gave her a pointed look, "- on game days."

Tsuyomi huffed, placing her hand under chin, pouting, "I know."

Tsuyoshi turned to Michiko, who was in the middle of choosing a soda for herself. "Are you ready for the games tonight?" He asked. Michiko furrowed her brows, looking up at him with her features twisted in confusion.

"Tonight?" She asked. "My VISA isn't out yet..."

The boy nodded. "You're on the roster for tonight. Did no one tell you?" Michiko shook her head. "Did no one explain to you how the game rosters work?" Michiko shook her head again, and Tsuyoshi sighed in response. "No one does their jobs properly anymore, I swear." He muttered under his breath, "Okay, so there's normally a grace period for newcomers, but Hatter likes to get promising players back on the roster quickly. You weren't going to be put back on till tomorrow, but someone decided to move things around." Michiko nodded along, noting all the information, "But after the grace period, then you're on the roster to play every three days. They've tried to organize things, so there's a rotation of players going out each night, and then they have a couple dys rest. Then there are those adrenaline junkies who have themselves on the roster for every night, but that's a whole different thing. Does that explain everything?"

Pursing her lips, Michiko nodded, "So, I'm essentially going to be playing every three days after today?" Tsuyoshi nodded his head. "Great. Maybe you should tell Hatter to put that information in the welcome tour."

The siblings sniggered at her scathing comment, and the three of them descended into laughter. They spent the rest of the afternoon on the roof, picking away at their snacks and drinking their cool sodas. A small reprieve, where they could just be kids in a world where innocence washed away with the continuous, soul splitting violence.

When Tsuyomi offered her another cigarette, she took it.

♤♡◇♧

When the Hamada siblings left the rooftop to prepare for the games, Michiko opted to stay outside. To watch the sunset. It had become a moment of peace for her in this messed up reality. The simple beauty of nature, one that she had never fully appreciated before.

She had distant memories of sitting between two tall figures on a soft picnic blanket, watching the sunset after spending hours in the park. When the evening air set in, they would pack up and go home. Michiko would always complain about having sore feet and how tired she was. It was an excuse to get her dad to pick her up and carry her home against the strong warmth of his chest.

Without fail, she would always drift away, lulled into the land of sleep by the gentle swaying.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she remembered the peaceful times. When the man wasn't the monster. When things were simple and easy and her mother would read her to sleep every night.

A metallic rattle shook her out of the memories. Turning around, her heart stopped when a familiar face confronted her. Kirika stood in the doorway, the soft strands of her hair drifting in the breeze. The other girl looked at Michiko, before cautiously approaching her as if she was a cornered dog. Michiko watched her move closer, unable to pull her eyes away.

Kirika stepped up to her side and Michiko's chest seized up torturously. Her traitorous heart wanted to reach out and grab Kirika by the hand or the wrist or even the sleeve. Anything to close the distance. But her brain remained a bastion of chaotic, confusing thoughts.

"Are you entering the games tonight?" Kirika's soft voice broke the thick silence between them.

Gluing her eyes back to the horizon, Michiko nodded. "I've been put on the roster for tonight." She said.

"Good luck then." Kirika whispered.

Michiko hummed, acknowledging the statement but not wanting to take the step across the boundary she couldn't return from.

"I see you've been hanging out with Tsuyoshi and his sister." Kirika stated, an undertone of bitterness in her voice, "You looked pretty friendly with the sister earlier."

"They're okay." Michiko admitted. But they aren't you, her mind whispered.

Her spoken words were true. They were okay, and Michiko enjoyed their presence. But she could never truly be friends with them. After all, she was only using them to further her and Chishiya's agenda.

A fact she could never tell Kirika.

"Did I-" Kirika's voice cracked, "Did I do something wrong?"

No, Michiko wanted to say. No, you haven't. You could never do anything wrong.

It was the war inside Michiko's mind that tore up every shred of a relationship she tried to form. She cowered behind the walls around her heart. The ones that Ichida had chipped away at. The cracks that Kirika had woven her way through. She wanted to shove her back through them as much as she wanted to draw her all the way in.

Guilt had become Michiko's best friend. The nagging regret that came with murder didn't just go away. The blood of three lives now soiled her hands. And Ichida's death remained a stain on her heart she couldn't wash out. Michiko didn't want to add Kirika to the piles of losses.

"If I did, I'm sorry. I know I can be a lot. I know I end up caring too much. And I know you're going through so much right now. You've lost a lot. I- I just want to be there for you. Because I've lost someone too, and I know the worst thing after you've lost someone is to be alone..." Kirika's voice ladled with the heaviness of her heart. The sickening grief - the same one that shrouded Michiko - poured out between her lips.

It was the same tone that took over her two days previous, when she confessed to wanting to take her own life.

Tsuyomi's words from earlier washed through her mind. A sagely wisdom unexpected of a personality so chaotic. "This life is too short to hold back on anything. You should hold the people you love close."

Souls lost to hanging grief - that's what they were. Both of them had experienced the shadow of death and ghosts surrounded them. This realisation burst through the haze of Michiko's confusion.

The cracks in walls shattered it. Michiko bared her soul.

"I was ten when my mum died," she confessed. "She was murdered. I lost everything that day. My home, my family. I've been living inside that- the loss of her has stayed with me for the last five years. I've never- I've never been able to surpass the grief, I don't know how to."

Her voice was hollow. Water pricked at her eyes, but she didn't shed tears. Like she had forgotten how to cry. But the tearing inside her chest was no less painful. It ripped a constant, barbed-wire ache into her heart.

Warmth engulfed her hand. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into it, chasing it. She curled her fingers around Kirika's, returning her gesture. "I'm sorry that happened to you." The other girl whispered, "Did- did they catch the guy?"

Something tight lodged inside Michiko's throat. She swallowed loudly and nodded. "They did."

Except - at the same - time they didn't. His presence followed her. A phantom of violence that possessed her. He was there every single time she caught her reflection. She bore so much resemblance to the monster that she could not cast his existence aside.

"Good, he deserves to rot in jail." He did. So did Michiko, for the sins she had committed in this world. But this world was without rules, and without consequence. Morality had become a whisper of the past and justice was something they had to seek by their own means.

There was nothing more Michiko could confess. She had shared enough. But it was a start. Little by little, she may share more. To let Kirika help her carry her grief. For some unfathomable reason, the girl cared. Cared more about understanding the horrors Michiko had faced than anyone else. Maybe letting go wasn't such a mammoth task anymore. With Kirika willing to listen. Willing to shoulder the burden alongside her.

That was enough for now.

♤♡◇♧

Listening to Hatter's nightly speech was a chore. The way the masses cheered and crowed at his mere presence was ridiculous, chanting his name like he was some sort of god. He wasn't a god. He was just a man.

Hatter ate up the attention, absorbing as though it showered him with physical strength. He shouted down what might've been an attempt at inspirational words, but Michiko drowned out everything he said. Every word went through one ear and discarded out the other.

She stood with her back to a pillar, arms folded across her chest as she looked up at the man on the balcony. After the unintended rooftop confessional, she and Kirika had parted ways. Not without a blanketing squeeze on her hand - a silent promise to each other to survive the night ahead. Kirika had gone back to their room to dress more appropriately for the games.

Michiko didn't worry about such things. She was adamant about wearing her hoodie and cargo shorts over her swimsuit - Hatter could fuck himself with his rules.

A quiet presence fell in, leaning on the side of the pillar. Michiko had an inkling to who it was before he even opened his mouth.

"Not a fan?" Chishiya asked, voiced edged with amusement.

"If you're asking whether I'm a fan of cult leaders, then no," Michiko responded.

The older man hummed, "Thought that would be the case. Cult leaders don't seem to be your style."

"Nor yours." The girl shot back.

"You'd be correct in that assessment." He told her, "Unfortunately, this cult leader has something we want. So I guess we'll just have to pretend to be fans."

"Lucky us." Michiko's tone was laced with her sarcasm as she twisted her head around to face Chishiya. He stood with his shoulder against the pillar, hands stuffed in their permanent place in his pockets. "I guess we'll have to put on the best act of our lives then." Chishiya's eyes flickered away from the balcony down to her, and he nodded down at her with a smirk.

"I guess we will."

Hatter's speech ended with one last rapturous cheer, and the crowd began dispersing, searching for their designated groups. She turned around to Chishiya fully, pushing herself away from the wall. "I'm guessing you've been put back in the games tonight as well."

"Correct again." Chishiya also stood to his full height. "I'm lucky enough to have been placed with our favourite gun-wielding maniac tonight."

Gritting her teeth at the mention of Niragi, Michiko huffed, "Fun, if he dies, be sure to let me know."

"Oh, you'll be the first I'll tell." Chishiya responded, looking out at the crowd with a teasing smirk. "I best be off. But before I go, I was asked to pass along a message." Michiko perked up in interest. "Arata told me you're with his group tonight. Apparently, you're to meet him out by the pool."

Michiko nodded upon receiving the information, "Thanks." She stepped away from the pillar and the man, intending to make her way to the appointed meeting place. The call of her name stopped her in place, and she turned to Chishiya one last time.

"Don't die." He said simply, before pulling up his hood and walking away.

"And you!" Michiko called out after him. She swore she glimpsed the edges of his lips turn up. As she watched him walk away, she couldn't help but smile in amusement. Every day, Chishiya baffled her. But he was now becoming a puzzle that was fun to figure out, rather than something she had to be wary of knowing.

She almost skipped away in the elation their bantering had brought her, moving off to find her delegated group. She stepped out into the cool night air, the icy wind infecting her skin through her hoodie. Eyes scanning the crowd for the familiar wiry glasses Arata wore, she spotted the man near the gates. His eyes also searched through the throngs of people.

She strolled over, waving as the man caught her approaching. As she moved closer, she spotted another two figures beside him. One was unknown. A rather tall woman in a blue patterned bikini top and a pair of low-waisted jeans. She pulled the look off very well. Her pony-tailed hair was full of twists, some strings and beads weaved through. She had a casual air about her, arms folded and what looked like a cigarette between her painted lips. She watched Michiko advance towards the group with a guarded expression.

On Arata's other side, however, was a very familiar figure. Clothed back in the skirt of her school uniform that she started the games in, as if holding onto a world that was long past. With a plain white t-shirt pulled over the top. Black socks emerging from pink canvas sneakers.

When Kirika caught her eyes, she sent her a soft smile.

Michiko's stomach dropped.

Chapter Text

DAY 16

♤♡◇♧

The car ride to their designated game venue was as tense as it was silent. The only time the strained quiet disrupted was the mindless chatter between the two adults up front. A city cloaked in heavy darkness passed by as Michiko kept herself fixated on the window. In the glass's reflection, she caught sight of the pony-tailed woman in the passenger seat.

Kuina's introduction was swift.

Arata - oblivious to the rupturing panic inside Michiko's mind - had addressed her when she arrived at the meeting spot, "Great, you got my message. It's good to see you." He nodded his head as Michiko finally drew her focus away from Kirika's slight smile. Gesturing to the tall woman beside him, he introduced them. "This is Kuina, a friend of mine. She's with us tonight."

Kuina stepped forward, and Michiko shivered as the woman eyed her up and down, feeling increasingly judged the longer she kept her gaze. The woman then sent her a small smile, allowing Michiko's shoulders to sink in relief, and held her hand out. "You're Michiko, aren't you? It's good to meet ya."

Michiko hesitantly lifted her hand up to meet the woman's, Kuina being the one to take the extra step, grabbing it and shaking firmly. Her grip was firm and secure. The immediate impression upon Michiko was that Kuina would be a valuable ally. The woman, despite her apparent nonchalant demeanour, held her posture straight and regarded everyone around with caution. She was a definite product of the games, just as Michiko was becoming.

When they made it to the car, the adults claimed the front, with Arata behind the wheel. That left the two teens stranded on the tiny island of the backseat with Michiko's mind reeling. If there was one thing she'd learned from the brutal nature of the games, it was that having a friend beside you wasn't always a good thing.

It was a roll of the dice. Chance and the luck of the draw. You could enter a clubs game where teamwork was vital. Or maybe you'd be turned against each other in a merciless game of the heart. And at the current moment, Miciko's heart to club ratio was sitting two to one against her favour. And now she was sitting next to one of her closest companions on the way to another death game. Things weren't looking promising.

Every so often, she would catch Kirika's reflection in the window. The brief glimpses urging Michiko to look her way before the expression slipped into confusion would tug relentlessly at her stomach. She ignored it. Because that's what she always reverted to when things got bad. Avoidance.

"We're here." The car stopped, and a deep sigh left her nose. She couldn't exit the car any faster, escaping from the suffocating existence of the girl beside her. Kirika's presence in this game was an unrelenting cage around Michiko's mind. She needed a clear head if she was going to get both of them through this game.

The group of four gathered to the passenger side, staring up at their designated game venue for the evening. The high rise in front of them was lit up, a massively tall beacon signaling its importance as either a point of victory or a graveyard. Time would tell which one it would be for them.

There was a welcome sign above the door, a macabre greeting. Arata, who stood as a tall guardian in front of the three of them, turned around. "Are we all ready?" He asked.

There were various gestures of confirmation from the three of them.

Something warm wrapped around Michiko's pinkie, and her head snapped to her right. Kirika's eyes were ready for her, waiting. Big and doe-like and so very reassuring. There was no grievance for Michiko's strained turn in attitude. "It's going to be okay." The other girl whispered. Michiko found her rigid shoulders relaxing. Though her lips remained in a tight line as she nodded.

They followed behind Arata, who led them across the barely visible borderline. Sticking together like glue, the four players passed through the sliding doors into a vast marble entryway. Pristine and polished. Unsoiled by the games. Michiko wondered how long until that changed.

Whose blood would splash across those spotless surfaces?

The building appeared to be a space for corporation offices, the reception area spacious and echoey, a demonstration of grandeur. A few bodies already milled about, eyeing the tightly knit newcomers warily. Michiko ignored them this time around, but kept her gaze guarded to display no weakness. Her focus was ensuring her and Kirika's survival. No matter the cost. Arata and Kuina's too, if she could help it. But the priority of their lives paled in comparison to the girl beside her.

Never before did Michiko think she'd ever put another's life above her own. Two weeks ago she would've claimed it to be impossible. But here she was.

On the far side of the reception desk there was a wide hallway, barricaded by clear plastic ticket gates. In the normal world, Michiko could see employees scanning passes to gain access to the building - clocking in for a regular day at work - before they pile into the elevator like sardines. Tonight, however, it had turned into an empty graveyard, metaphorical holes dug to prepare for it to be a last resting place for a few unlucky souls.

Beyond the barricades there were four silver elevator doors, different numbers displayed above them. Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one and thirty-five. So there are at least thirty-five floors, Michiko noted. She hazarded a guess that there would be an accompanying stairwell beyond the elevators.

The phones lay upon the reception desk, and the four strode confidently over to collect them. One and a half minutes until registration.

Arata ferried the group into an empty corner and whispered to them softly, his tone deadly serious, "Whatever happens, we stick together. Between the four of us, we can definitely complete this game."

Kuina, whose eyes scanned the room, replied to him, "Just based on the type of venue, I'm guessing this might be a spades game. We may need to get ready for something physical."

The older man nodded at her assessment. "You may be right. The last spades game I played was in a tall building like this." His eyes misted over, clouding with melancholy. Michiko knew exactly where his mind went. Hajime.

To distract from the chilling wave of guilt crashing over her, Michiko's eyes went back to observing the crowd closer. If it were a spades game, then it would be easy for them to ignore the other players and focus on themselves. Unless the game's rules forced them into conflict, then this faceless crowd would become enemies. To their luck, none of them stood out as threats. A few wary faces, a couple of confused expressions of newbies here and there. There were none of the weary, hardened gazes that prolonged exposure to the threats of this world brought. Michiko saw no reflection of her own eyes in the surrounding people.

Most of these people will die, she shamelessly thought. The cynical nature of the statement struck her for a brief moment. But this world was survival of the fittest. Her or them. Kirika or them. Michiko knew what choice she'd make. What choice she had made.

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED

THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE

Pulled out of her morbid thoughts by the chiming, Michiko listened closely to the game's directions.

GAME: TOXIN

DIFFICULTY: THREE OF CLUBS

RULE

PLAYERS MUST ESCAPE FROM THE TOXIC GAS THAT

IS LEAKING FROM THE BASEMENT OF THIS BUILDING

CLEAR CONDITION

REACH THE TOP OF THE BUILDING BEFORE THE TIME RUNS OUT

PLAYERS WHO FAIL TO DO SO WILL BE TRAPPED INSIDE WITH THE TOXIC GAS

TIME LIMIT: 30 MINUTES

GAME START

The beginning of the game was startlingly abrupt. Michiko hardly had time to register and decipher the rules before a sweet, noxious smell permeated the air, gradually increasing in strength. Then the chaos started. There was a shrill shriek as some players ran in their thoughtless panic, heading for the corridor with the elevators. They hopped the barriers as the surroundings air became marred by a soft haze. An itch scratched the back of Michiko's throat, causing a cough to escape her. It tore at her still sensitive throat, and the muscles of her neck strained at the movement.

Beside her, her companions were in a similar state.

Coughing into her elbow, Kuina nodded toward the elevators, encouraging the group to move. "Let's go!" She called over the cacophony of screaming and hacking coughs.

They sprinted for the ticket barriers, the taller woman hopping over it with an impressive agility. Arata, with a surprising strength, pulled himself over next. Michiko quickly followed behind swiftly. Her experience in hopping ticket barriers to avoid police officers running her down had come in handy at last.

Turning back, she held her hand out to a struggling Kirika, aiding her in climbing over the barrier. The girl nodded her thanks and Michiko pulled at her arm, forcing the girl to follow behind once she was securely over. The acrid smell of the fog encroaching on them helped to tunnel Michiko's mind to focusing on survival. They continued on their way, falling into step behind Kuina and Arata.

The two adults led them past the four elevators, with quite a few participants trying their luck in waiting for them to descend. They banged desperately on the metal doors, some participants pressing the button over and over as if it would make them arrive any faster. But the numbers at the top were decreasing painfully slowly, the people waiting too caught up in the hope of an easy escape to realise they would be dead long before their presumed salvation arrived.

Their group sprinted past, leaving the hopeless souls behind. Arata held a door at the end of the hall open, the three of them tumbling into a brightly lit marble stairwell. One set of cracked stairs led further down to a dark basement level. The thick smog creeping upwards from the shadows spurred the group on, rushing to escape the poisonous gas that stalked them. Shouts filtered down from above. Players who had gotten a head start on the stairs in the other participants' moment of hesitation.

The slap of their shoes hitting the cold, hard marble accompanied their journey upwards. The further up they went, their breath fell into a song of heavy pants and heaving inhales as oxygen pulled into their lungs. Michiko's legs burned and her chest tightened as she closed up the pack, Kuina leading the charge. The tall woman was the least visibly exhausted out of them, her pony-tailed locs swinging behind her back.

With the walls devoid of floor numbers, Michiko tried to keep count of the number of stair sets they climbed. But with the exhaustion setting quickly and the harsh ache of her muscles, it was impossible for her mind to focus on anything but putting one foot in front of the other. On climbing one more step. In front of her, Kirika stumbled, and her hands went out instinctively to catch the girl by the arms. Arata also turned around to check on them upon hearing the girl's startled cry. Clutching the bannister in a grip that turned her knuckles white, Kirika's breath heaved.

On the next corner of the stairs, Kuina clutched at her side. "This seems more like a spades game than a clubs game," the woman whined. Michiko eyed the woman's forehead, free from sweat, with jealousy. A drop slipped down her nose and she wiped it off.

Arata peered over the bannister, and Michiko's eyes followed, glimpsing the approaching smoke that curled up towards them. Soft, pale wisp escaped the cloud like deathly hands reaching out to grab at wayward souls. There were a couple more figures climbing the steps below, their ragged coughing reaching Michiko's ears. Her own throat burned from the mixture of the noxious air and the lack of oxygen. "I'm sure there'll be something coming up that'll turn this into a clubs game. But for now, we need to keep moving." The older man nodded to Kuina, who returned the gesture and continued her journey.

Kirika took a split second to lay her head on her forearm on the bannister, breathing in deeply before forcing herself into a run again. Michiko ensured she was secure in her footing before following closely.

Around the estimated eighth floor was when they came across their first obstacle. Kuina stopped abruptly at the top of a set of stairs. The flat platform that connected one set to the bottom of the next set completely crumbled away, revealing a swift drop to the hard platform about fifteen feet below.

"And there we are," Kuina muttered. "I really hate these games."

With a wide gap between the set of stairs they occupied and the set across from them, the group was at a loss for a moment. Spluttering coughs and enraged muttering echoed up the steps behind her and Michiko turned to see that the figures from below had caught up in their moment of pause.

"Hey, what's the holdup?!" the middle-aged, portly man behind her complained loudly in a breathless voice. Michiko's stomach twisted in disgust as the man wiped at the beading sweat of his red forehead with his sleeves, before wiping away the spittle around his mouth in the same movement. He shoved the younger girl aside in his impatience, a bite of pain flaring in her ribs as she crashed into the bannister. The bull-headed man charged forward, ignoring the protesting coming from the rest of Michiko's group.

In his haste, he had almost bowled Kuina off the edge of the stairs. Arata swiftly grabbed her arm to pull her back to safety. The other man was not so lucky. Completely missing notice of the gaping walkway, he tripped up on the last step and barreled over the ledge. There was a heavy crack as his skull hit the marble platform below. There wasn't a chance for any blood to pool from the split in his skull before the mist began concealing the body from view.

There was a shocked gasp from his similarly-dispositioned companion as he, too, lunged forward, kneeling at the edge and looking down at his friend with a dismayed gaze.

Bearing the remaining man no sympathy, Kuina, spurred on by the proximity of the gas, jumped up and balanced on the remaining half a metre of flat bannister. She made an impressive leap across, grappling expertly to the bannister on the opposite set of stairs, feet finding purchase through the gaps in the bar. She quickly clambered over the railing, securing herself on the stairs before holding her hand out.

"Come on, climb over the barrier, then jump across to this one. I'll give you a hand," she called out to the three of them.

Arata nodded, before turning to Kirika on the step down from him. "You two go over first, I'll help you from this side." Kirika stepped up with a gulp, and with Arata's steady hands, she found herself on the other side of the bannister. One misstep away from falling several stories to an unseen end, concealed by the thick, steadily approaching gas.

Shaking as she looked down, Kirika clutched at the bars tightly. "Don't look down," Arata murmured reassuringly, large hands cupped under her armpits to prevent her from slipping. "Focus on Kuina, she'll help you across. We've got you." Kirika did as she was told, finding the older woman's comforting gaze, long arms held out. She pried one hand off the bar, grasping at Kuina's wrist as Arata held her steady from his side. Whimpering, she sent her other hand out, finding purchase on the opposite bar. Michiko's heart sped up its pace as she watched on, terrified that in one wrong move Kirika would be lost forever.

"I've got ya." Kuina nodded, and Kirika stretched her leg across the gap, the other leg following once she found her footing firmly on the opposite set of stairs. Kuina smiled at her gently before helping her climb over the railing.

Turning to Michiko, Arata patted her arm softly, guiding her up to the railing, "Your turn," The man nodded, ready to repeat the process.

An arm appeared out of nowhere, shoving the two back suddenly as the second middle-aged man woke from the haze of watching his friend die. "Out of my way!" He shouted, clambering clumsily over the bar. But he didn't have the sure footing or agility Kuina's body had mastered, and his stumbling feet failed to find purchase. The weight of gravity pulled his hands from the bar. As he went tumbling down the gap between the stairs, a shrill scream echoed up the stairwell, and the mist enveloped him into its fold. His scratchy voice cut off abruptly as they heard his body hit the ground with a muffled thud.

Wasting no second in concerning themselves with the man's hasty, thoughtless actions, Arata and Michiko sprung into action as the smoke began curling at their feet. They followed in Kirika's footsteps, Michiko being helped across in seconds, Arata following close behind as the girls helped him over. The smoke was just encroaching on their knees, spurning them on their pathway up.

Their phones chimed with a warning.

TIME REMAINING: 20 MINUTES

"Keep going, we don't stop!" Kuina called behind her shoulder as she pushed herself up the stairs.

Adrenaline coursed through Michiko's veins as her arms pumped by her sides, deepening her breaths to pull more vital oxygen into her burning lungs. The further up the stairs they went, the more decrepit their surroundings became. There was a missing step they had to hop carefully over here. A sliver of platform they had to balance themselves across there, trying their best to not look down lest their focus became distracted by the poisonous gas that tailed them. The acrid smell infected their noses.

The group stopped abruptly as a scream echoed from above them. A body plummeted through the space between the sets of the stairs, submerging into the mist below. Soon after, another chilling scream, another faceless blur plunging into the poisonous gas, destined to die upon impact at the bottom of the stairwell.

The group put the falling bodies out of their mind, unwilling to think about just what obstacle lay before them. They continued on, desperate to get out of the stairwell before time ran out. After another couple of sets of stairs, they came across the offending obstacle.

A significant amount of stairwell was missing, from halfway up the set they were standing on until halfway up the next set. There were no banisters on either of the remaining halves, providing no obstacle between them and falling to their deaths. It was impossible for any of them to jump alone, including Kuina. A sturdy rope hung from further up, attached to an above bannister.

Kuina, toes shuffling to the edge, leaned out to grab the rope, tugging at it in a test of its stability. "I can probably climb up. I'll see if there's anything up there that can help you guys across."

"Are you sure?" Arata questioned as he turned towards his friend with a concerned glance.

Kuina nodded. "I'm going to hazard a guess that I'm best for the job. No offense to any of you."

Michiko didn't take offense at all. Her upper body strength had its limits. She doubted she could climb the rope.

Jumping towards the rope, Kuina wrapped her legs around as it swung from the force. Using the movement as momentum, the woman clambered up like a monkey, exertion showing through her grimace and the strain of her arms and exposed torso. Michiko watched in awe of her resilience as the woman reached the next set of broken stairs, placing her hands on one by one, muscles straining as she pulled herself up onto them.

Taking a second to catch her breath, the woman stood up and leaned on the wall behind her.

"Are you alright?!" Arata called up to her.

The woman nodded, clutching her side and wheezing as she gestured to Arata with a confident thumbs up. "I'm good." She panted before her attention caught elsewhere. A glimmer lit up behind her eyes, and she raced up the stairs with a victorious cheer.

"What is it?" Arata called up to her, and the woman reappeared, carrying a tall ladder.

"I'm going to pass the bottom down to you! It looks like there are a couple of dips in the floor I can secure the top hooks into!" The woman instructed. Arata and the younger girls held their hands out, taking hold of the heavy ladder as Kuina passed it down to them. With it balanced between the group, they maneuvered it into a stable position, Kuina hooking the top into the divots she found, giving it extra sturdiness. Once the group balanced the bottom onto one of the steps, Arata checked the solidity, ensuring it wouldn't wobble. Once he was happy, he gestured for the girls to climb up in front of him as he once again remained at the back, keeping the bottom stable.

Michiko's stomach flipped aggressively as she climbed the steep height, doing her best not to look down at the significant fall that was hidden behind a thick smog. Kuina and Kirika helped her up to the next staircase. The three of them then returned the favour, keeping the ladder held steady for Arata to climb up. Once all of them were securely past the gap, they kept on with their steady pace. There was no time to lose. They had to make every second count.

"Anyone have any idea what floor we're on? I would love to know how far we are from the end." Kirika panted out as she jogged steadily up the stairs, keeping herself near Michiko at the back of their group.

"I have no clue." Kuina whined, the woman only just beginning to show the dregs of tiredness as her shoulders heaved up and down, features displaying glimpses of weariness.

Frustratingly, Michiko had also lost count long ago. The floors passed by in a blur. It added to her ever present growing pit of dread sitting heavy in her gut. The not knowing on top of the ghostly wisps following at their feet, signifying what would probably be an agonising death as the toxin overtook the bloodstream. The long fall and swift impact at the bottom sounded much more preferable to her.

It was Arata's voice that offered the answer. "Floor twenty-three," He breathed out.

"Arata I love you!" Kuina shouted back.

"Focus on running Kuina!" The man shouted back, "Give me your declarations of admiration later please!" Kuina barked out a laugh at his statement, and took his advice, continuing to lead the charge with a renewed vigour. The group spurred on even further when their phones chimed out in tandem.

TIME REMAINING: 10 MINUTES

Remembering a snippet of detail from the beginning of the game, a vision of silver elevator doors and a flickering number above them flashed across Michiko's mind. "I think there's about thirty-five floors? The elevators were all stopped on floor thirty-five when we were downstairs."

"So, we're close?!" Kirika piped up, voice brightening in its breathlessness.

"About just past two-thirds of the way." Arata said.

"Great." Kuina nodded, turning her head back to the rest of them, an exhausted smile on her painted lips, "Let's keep pushing it, we're almost there."

Surging upwards with a renewed determination, the group continued, calling out quips of encouragement to each other as every step took them closer to victory. The curling haze still trailed them. But with every floor passed, they drew just a little further away from it.

Out of nowhere, as they ran in front of the door leading to whichever floor they were passing, it flew open. The heavy metal hit Michiko with a resounding smack as a woman burst through it in a panicked state. Sharp pain shot up her nose and head, the girl losing her footing upon the impact and tripping up on the steps behind her. Her vision flipped upside down in a dizzying blur, and her bones screamed as she tumbled down the set of stairs, crashing into the wall in the corner.

Through the ringing of her ears, she could hear her name being called, and the hazy shadows of her companions appeared over the bannister.

"Keep going!" She managed to call up to them. Pulling herself up, she did her best to ignore the aching protest of her bones. Warm liquid oozed under her nose, dripping onto her lips. Wiping it away, red streaks painted her hand. An itch flared up in her already burning lungs, and spluttering coughs escaped her as she noticed the smoke curling at her feet. Pushing through the throbbing pains that littered her body, she propelled her feet back up the stairs to follow behind her companions. One hand remained on the wall, keeping her steady as her vision went in and out of focus.

A tremor shook the building, sending her stumbling into the wall she clutched to for support. She listened for the footsteps above her, ensuring the rest of them were continuing on. The aching haze around her lifted momentarily as the adrenaline pumping through her veins went into overdrive, sharpening her focus as it numbed the pain. She drove her feet to continue up the stairs, only coming to a stop when the figure of Kirika appeared in front of her, frozen in place.

When she reached the other girl's side, she knew the reason. A wide gap had opened up in the stairs. Rather recently, based on the rubble that had settled underneath the gap. Rubble that had probably just skimmed Michiko unnoticed as she passed by below moments ago. On the other side of the gap, Arata and Kuina looked back down upon the two younger girls, eyes wide with alarm.

Breaking out of the stupor as the gas continued its steady approach to their positions, Kuina stepped forward. "You have to jump!" the older woman shouted down to them.

Head shaking, Kirika's voice trembled as she replied, "I- I can't."

"You can," Michiko said firmly from beside her, "You will. You have to."

The other girl turned to her, doe-eyes wide with fright, "No- No I can't."

Grasping her by the shoulders, eyes filling with determination, Michiko pushed her face closer to Kirika's. "You absolutely will. And I'm not jumping until you do, so you will jump!"

Kirika's figure quivered under Michiko's hardened gaze. "No, Michiko. I- I really can't. I'm not brave like you. You should leave me-"

"No!" Michiko interrupted before the other girl could even finish the thought. Every action that Michiko had taken since she arrived at the Beach was to ensure the survival of the other girl, at the cost of her soul. At the cost of any potential happiness she could've experienced. A necessary sacrifice to keep a light burning, to not let the life of it extinguish from the cruelties of the world. There was so little light left in the world. Michiko's had snuffed out when her mother had died. She would be damned if she allowed Kirika's to fade.

Her mother had once told her that stars often acted as guides. That one day she would recognise someone as a star destined to guide her through this world. Michiko had once believed that star to be Ichida. But with him gone, that role was entrusted to Kirika. Michiko saw that now. A light that shone so brightly despite that darkness surrounding it. Kirika was Michiko's own star.

She wasn't about to leave the other girl behind now. Fate had drawn them together. Had tied a tight string that couldn't be undone. And Michiko was finally ready and perhaps willing to shorten that string, to close the distance that still stretched between them. "You are brave. You've faced worse. I know you can make that jump, so make it!" She ordered.

"I don't think I can!"

"Come on, you two!" Arata suddenly called out to them, "We don't have time for this! If you're going to jump, then jump!" Michiko's head twisted round to him, seeing the man looking down between the gap. Eyes drifting down, she saw the smoke curling upward, encroaching closely to their position. If they spent any longer there, the smoke would envelop them into its fold, granting them a merciless, agonizingly cruel death as the poisonous gas burned away their insides.

Swiveling back around, Kirika's panicked face came back into view, the girl's breath hitching as she caught sight of the rising smoke. Grasping at her face, Michiko pulled the girl's focus purely onto her. "We're both making it out of this alive, okay? You want to be brave, be brave," she hissed sharply, ignoring the fluttering Kirika's eyes sent through her, "Jump."

Admiration flickered through Kirika's eyes as her lips stopped quivering, drawing in a deep shuddering breath. The touch lasted for just a second. Kirika's hand reached up to hover over one of Michiko's own on the side of her face, fingertips brushing the back of it before she pulled away.

"You better follow me right away," Kirika ordered, before turning to the two awaiting adults. The muscles in her legs primed themselves as she stepped back, coiling as she launched herself from the step. Her foot only just reached the edge of the gap.

Arata and Kuina's hands went out immediately, pulling the girl onto the ledge safely. Kirika turned back, meeting Michiko's eyes, an elated light burning in her own gaze.

Michiko readied herself to follow, when another unexpected tremor racked the building. Feet stumbling underneath her, she watched as the step in front of her crumbled away; the rubble falling away into the hazy fog below. Smoke curled away from the impact. Her chest seized in panic, and she vaguely heard the voices of Arata, Kuina and Kirika shouting down to her.

Lifting her head, she caught their gazes, a dreadful pit opening up inside her. A stirring emptiness that foreshadowed the end of her story. The gap was far too wide now. Kirika had barely made it across, and with the extra step gone, Michiko had no hope left of making the leap.

"Go." she whispered across to them, accepting what would come her way. If this should be her end, at least she could die knowing the others had survived. Kirika had survived.

Shaking her head resolutely, Kirika protested the decision. "No!" she shouted, "Come on, you can make it!"

"I can't!" Michiko stated back firmly, eyes flickering to Arata, who stared down at her, features twisted in despair. Eyes downcast as that same despair settled over her - a shroud of death - she nodded, and a tear shed from his eye as he understood. The both of them had plenty of ghosts already carried between them. Michiko had become another before his very eyes.

"Come on." He gripped Kirika firmly around the shoulders, pulling her along. The girl struggled and protested all the while, arms reaching out desperately to Michiko. Kuina followed up behind them, sending one last sorrowful glance to Michiko, before turning her back.

And Michiko stood on that broken staircase, with wisps of smoke curling around her ankles, threatening to pull her into their deathly hold. Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she listened to Kirika's desperate cries.

♤♡◇♧

As the poisonous fog crept up her legs, Michiko examined the gap in the staircase. With the immediate threat of approaching death, a sudden fluctuation of resolution rose in her. Taking a quick glance at the timer, her phone telling her there were three minutes left of the game. She made an impulsive decision.

A leap of faith. One last-ditch attempt.

Her friends were gone, hopefully out of the building by now and in the arms of safety. If she failed, they wouldn't have to witness it at least. And if she did indeed fail, at least she would die quickly from the fall rather than await an agonizingly slow demise, insides turned to mush. Stepping back, her elbow went across her face to give her a layer of protection against the acrid smoke. She gave herself enough of a running start without completely submerging herself within the fog.

Taking in a steadying breath, she prepared herself, aching muscles in her legs coiling like a spring. Dashing forward, she launched herself off of the staircase, on the diagonal towards the ledge of the other set of stairs. She realized in midair that she hadn't gained enough height, but she had given herself more than enough momentum. The air was forced out of her lungs as her stomach hit the ledge, her elbows doing their best to keep her held up.

But gravity won out, pulling her down as her elbows slipped from the ledge, her hands scrabbling to find purchase on the broken concrete. Stinging pain ran up her palms as the gravel scratched at them. Her fingers strained and the muscles in her arms spasmed painfully in their efforts of keeping herself held on the edge, legs dangling threateningly in the haze below. She could sense its chilling hands creeping up her torso and a rock had dropped into her stomach.

There was no way she was making it out of this alive. The thought ran through her brain and her face contorted as the energy sapped away from her bones the longer she held herself up. Tears leaked out from her eyes.

I should just let go, she thought to herself. At least the fall would kill me quicker than the poison.

Resigning herself to her fate, she closed her eyes; the world going deathly still around her. She allowed her fingers to slip away from the ledge.

Before she could begin the swift drop and an abrupt stop to her life, warm hands gripped around her wrist, pulling her out of the haze she had forced on herself in her surrender. A gasp pulled from her lungs upon the impact of being caught mid fall. She looked up, seeing Kirika's strained features as the other girl grasped desperately at her wrist.

"What are you doing?!" she growled up at her, "Let me go! Get out of here now, there's no time!"

"I'm not leaving you behind!" Kirika sobbed back down to her, a warm tear falling from her face and landing on Michiko's cheek, "You- You've never once left me behind!" Her voice sounded strained as she held on. But Michiko could feel her hand slipping.

"You stupid idiot! You can't pull me up! So let me go and save yourself!" Michiko called out, hoping her words would smash through Kirika's thick skull.

"No! You're the idiot!" The other girl quipped back.

An itch burned in Michiko's eyes as the smoke rose to her shoulders. Her hand slipped further and further through Kirika's sweaty palm. Just as she was about to make the choice for herself and rip herself from Kirika's hands, another hand reached out over the ledge. Arata, features resolute in determination, looked down at her. "Grab my hand!" The older man shouted down at her.

A surging hope reignited in Michiko's chest, and, gritting her teeth, she reached out her hand, scrambling to grip onto Arata's out held one. With the strength between both of them, they pulled her up on the ledge, Kuina assisting by lodging her hands underneath Michiko's armpits to haul her to safety. They wasted no time in hugs or gestures of relief. The time still ticked down on their phones and the smoke crept up their backs.

There were only seconds to spare when the four of them burst through a metal door at the top of the final staircase. All of them coughed as the smoke released its grip on them.

GAME CLEAR: CONGRATULATIONS

There was no sense of victory. No celebratory jeers or joyous rapture upon clearing the game.

Only an irritated fury festered inside of Michiko as she registered Kirika's actions. She marched upon the other girl, who was bent over, catching her breath, shoving her shoulder harshly. "What the fuck was that!? You fucking idiot!"

Kirika stared back at her, stunned, eyes full of woe. "Wh- What?" She mumbled.

"Why the fuck would you risk your life to come after me!? You should've just left me behind!" Michiko could feel the poisonous anger rising, just like the toxic gas. A searing heat inside her chest was just itching to be unleashed.

"I- If I didn't come back you would've- you would've died." Kirika reasoned, her voice infuriatingly gentle as she held her hands out placatingly towards Michiko.

Letting out a grunt of frustration, Michiko shook her head. "You shouldn't've risked your life. You could've died! You can't die."

"Well, I wasn't going to let you die, either." Kirika was finally pushing back, her voice rising slightly in pitch.

"Why?!" Michiko cried, "Why the fuck do you care so much?!" It was a question that had been lingering for a while. Just why did Kirika latch on so tightly, so quickly, refusing to let go?

There was something deep down inside Kirika that was slipping, the girl letting out a short exasperated scream as she clutched at her hair, "Why is it so hard for you to fathom that I could give even the tiniest shit about you!?"

"Because people don't do that!" Michiko shot back with all the conviction of someone who believed they were truly unloveable. She had the blood of a monster. No one could love a monster.

"People do, Michiko! You're just too blind to see it half of the time, and the other half of it you push them away. Like you tried to do with Ichida. Just like you tried to avoid me!"

The statement struck Michiko like an arrow through the heart, sending a sharp pang through her chest. The slip of Ichida's name was a knife twisting inside of her. "That's because I don't need anyone. Least of all, I didn't need you to risk your life like an idiot to try to save me! I'm telling you that you should have just left me behind like everyone else does and saved yourself!"

"And I'm telling you that I wasn't going to do that." Kirika took a step forwards alongside her words, eyes boring into Michiko with a resoluteness she had yet to display in the time they'd known one another.

"Why!?"

"Because the last time I left a friend behind, I lost him!" The words echoed from the outburst in the night sky. Silence settled across the open rooftop as the words registered in Michiko's mind, eyes locked onto Kirika's as the girl looked at her in complete and utter anguish. The smiling mask had cracked, and she saw the deep grief that encompassed Kirika's heart. It was a cloud similar to her own. The other girl just hid it better.

Water welled up at the bottom of Kirika's eyes, sticking her lashes together as she blinked. The sight was a far cry from the usual joyous smile Kirika permanently kept on her face.

The mask had finally slipped, showing the true colours of a tortured soul underneath. Michiko recognised that soul, because it mirrored her own.

Kirika's lips quivered as the two girls stared at each other in the silence until Arata sliced through the tension by stepping between them.

"Okay girls, why don't we calm down?" The older man said gently, not wanting to spook the cornered animals on either side of him. "I don't think this is the time for all this, so why don't we settle this back at the beach?"

Kirika finally ripped her gaze away from Michiko, nodding.

The anger crumbled away from Michiko, leaving her in a cold haze of numbness. She nodded as well.

"Okay." Arata breathed out, the tension in his shoulders releasing, "Let's- Let's all take a breath, alright? Then we'll head back down. Hopefully, the smoke will start clearing now that the game is over."

Michiko remained where she was as the others split, Kirika taking herself off to a corner of the roof where she stood in solitude, craning her neck up to the stars. Arata and Kuina stuck themselves shoulder to shoulder, the man rubbing the back of his neck as Kuina patted his arm. Michiko herself stood in place, energy completely sapped and the fight draining from her body. All the aches and throbs, the stabbing and stinging surged back into focus as the adrenaline dissipated from her veins.

Staring down at the small lacerations on her hands, she gulped, feeling a cold liquid crusting underneath her throbbing nose. As the pain settled in, she had one thought.

She wanted off that damn roof.

Chapter Text

DAY 16

♤♡◇♧

Endo Kirika had been a master of masks since she was a child. There was never a choice but to learn how to don one, growing up the way she did. Her parents always took satisfaction in reminding her how difficult a time her birth was - that because of the complications she caused, her mother couldn't have any more children. That prevented them from having the son they always desired.

A son would inherit the family business. A son would inherit the family fortune. A son would inherit everything the family had to offer. All Kirika could do for the Endo family would be to marry the heir of another equally - if not more - wealthy family. Her parents persistently held onto more traditional values when it came to Kirika's future. She would inherit nothing, simply because she was born a girl. And the Endo family's assets would pass on to a distant male cousin of hers.

For all sixteen years of her life, Kirika had never experienced a single moment of freedom. Molded by her mother into the perfect prospective bride, she was trained to be demure, gentle, and polite. Always wear a smile. Never get over emotional. Handle the household with grace. Never raise your voice at your husband. Bear your husband's children and provide him an heir. Otherwise, she would be labeled a failure in her society. These rules were recited in her head on a constant loop, a mantra that followed her like a shadowy beast.

Be gentle. Be demure. Be polite. Always wear a smile. Never get over emotional. Handle the household with grace. Never raise your voice at your husband. Bear your husband's children and provide him an heir. Otherwise you're a failure.

Be gentle. Be demure. Be polite. Always wear a smile. Never get over emotional. Handle the household with grace. Never raise your voice at your husband. Bear your husband's children and provide him an heir. Otherwise you're a failure.

The gentle smiling demeanor she was forced into became a rigid mask she wore everyday. No one ever saw through it.

Except for Shimizu Sota.

"You're sad today, I can tell."

"You know, you can express your excitement a bit more."

"Cry for once you silly girl!"

They had grown up alongside each other. Shimizu Sota was the son and heir of another family close to the Endo's. Kirika suspected their families were in talks of having them marry each other. Perhaps, in another life, if she had married Shimizu Sota she would've had much more freedom to be herself. Even if she couldn't love him in the way she was expected, they would've been able to escape the expectations placed on them.

Sota was an enigma in their society. A playful dog amongst serious-natured cats. He never adhered himself to the expectations of their society. Kirika admired his lust for freedom, his carefree attitude that often got him into trouble.

Kirika's belief in her mask was resolute, until Sota saw right through it to the real girl underneath. The girl who liked strawberry flavoured things. The girl who wanted to scream her frustrations from a rooftop. She loved the colour pink even though her parents believed it was childish and would never let her wear anything of any shade of it.

But the boy she grew up with saw all of that and encouraged the display of her true nature. The true shape of her soul. There was no one else she could be herself with. She didn't think there could be anyone else like him.

Until a tortured girl chucked her a carton of strawberry pocky in an abandoned convenience store.

It was such a simple moment, nothing more than a mere question and a very small gesture. You really like strawberries don't you? No one else knew her favourite flavour apart from Sota. Not even her parents cared enough to get to know such a simple thing about her. They were far more focused on turning her into an object for someone else's pleasure.

But in that small moment, Michiko had reminded Kirika of her once best friend. All of a sudden the city didn't feel so empty anymore. And the aching hole Sota left behind in his quiet passing began to mend. Kirika found her mask slipping little by little the more time she spent in the other girl's presence, against her better judgement.

The stars had been glowing a little bit brighter every night in this desolate world. Without the city-wide light pollution, they were allowed to emerge from the dark blanket of the night sky with more fierceness than before. She remembered Sota saying that there was a belief that when someone died, their soul was sent into the sky to join the billions of stars, to burn brightly for all eternity.

She remembered that night so clearly. They had snuck out under their parents' watchful gazes, and ran off to the park. On a patch of grass, they sat in peaceful silence before Sota interrupted it with a strange question. "What do you think happens to us when we die?" The question should've flared up all kinds of warning signs. But Kirika was far too oblivious to Sota's internal struggles. He was a master of masks himself.

Kirika faced him, her lips pursing in contemplation. "I don't know." She said, "What do you think happens?"

He looked back up to the sky. "I like to think that we become something beautiful. Like those stars. Then we can stay up in the sky and continue to watch over the people we love. I think I'd like to become a star when I die."

The boy beside her chuckled softly, serenely. Kirika watched his vision glaze over with something indescribable. If she had caught that look and realised exactly what it meant, would things have been different?

Instead, she turned to face the sky herself. "I think, when I die, I'd like to come back as a bird."

"A bird?" Sota asked incredulously.

"Mhm," Kirika nodded, "Then I'd be free that way."

"You will be free one day. We both will." Sota promised. And Kirika believed that promise.

On that rooftop she looked up at those stars wistfully, wondering if he was up there somewhere, his bright soul continuing to twinkle away, shining in spite of the darkness.

Her fingers tapped against her thigh rhythmically, ticking away like a clock to help calm her down after the games events. Watching Michiko standing across the gap hopelessly, being able to do nothing to help, was agonising. She didn't want to leave her behind because the situation was far too reminiscent of when she heard the news of Sota's death. She had fought against Arata's hold persistently, refusing to leave another friend behind to their doom when she could've done something to help.

Then her mask finally slipped when Michiko had berated her when they cleared the game, finally releasing her frustration from the past few days. This world was bringing the worst out of her, allowing everyone to see the fragile child underneath the facade. It was something she had longed to happen for years; to be able to just let everything go. But in the moment it was terrifying, expressing that amount of bottled resentment all at once.

And cathartic. To be able to release everything that had pent up. All of her rage at her parents, her grief about Sota and her irritation at Michiko for being a blind idiot that couldn't comprehend that there were people who actually cared about her. It frustrated Kirika to no end to see the other girl completely destroy herself. Especially after Mr. Ichida's death. She had been pulling away, endlessly keeping Kirika at arms length.

But Kirika was determined to change that. She couldn't watch the past repeat itself. Not again.

When she had approached Michiko at the Beach earlier that evening, it was with hope that should something happen to either of them in the game, things wouldn't be left on the sour note that followed them for over twenty-four hours. It felt longer. The days dragged on in this place.

They talked. Kirika pushed in further. And finally, she had breached the cracks. Only for it to fall apart again. Ruin surrounded Michiko. And endless cycle of falling rubble that Kirika was picking through to find the pieces that could fit back together. And Kirika would do it. She would sort through the dust and keep pushing past the walls because she refused to see another friend destroyed by the world.

The minutes ticked by on that rooftop in heavy silence. The tension had begun to dissipate after the heated argument that had occurred between the two girls, and now they were simply waiting for the all clear from Arata before they could head back down.

Kirika continued looking up at the stars, her eyes itching as she watched them intently, searching for one that was shining just for her. She wiped the unshed tears away when she felt a presence hesitantly settle at her sight. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michiko place herself at least three feet apart from her - a distance far too great for her liking - and despite everything, her heart leapt.

Nothing was said, the silence between them stretching an infinite amount, before it was finally broken.

As usual, it was Kirika who made the first move.

"The day I ended up in this world was the day after my best friend's funeral." What a way to start a conversation Kirika, "He had killed himself a few days prior. Nobody saw it coming. He was always smiling, always happy. No one knew what drove him to do it." Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, Kirika continued, "Looking back on it, there were signs. He was more withdrawn than usual... didn't smile as much. He seemed a bit more pensive, more agitated than usual. Kept asking weird questions about death. But I ignored those signs. If I hadn-"

Her breath hitched as the grief, still fresh inside her, rose up like a wave, threatening to pull her under its current.

"The day it happened, he had tried calling me..." She paused, heat pooling around her eyes as tears welled up on her bottom lashes, "I missed it. And I thought that if I hadn't missed his call... If I had just been there in his time of need... then maybe he wouldn't hav-'' A sob racked from her chest, quiet and gentle, but filled with raw anguish that had yet to be expressed. Her parents wouldn't let her cry at his funeral, promising punishment if she brought shame to their family name by causing such a public scene. She had bottled up her tears upon their request. Put on another mask of indifference as she piled the grief upon the shifting pile of negativity she held inside.

There was a shuffle, as Michiko's feet stepped closer, Kirika beginning to feel the heat of their proximity. She heard the other girl gulp loudly, before muttering a small, "I'm sorry."

Michiko was a girl of few words, but with what she did say, Kirika had begun to decipher the meanings underneath. The slight flicker of regret in her gaze, the apologetic lowering of her head, the way her nervous fidgeting emerged naturally, letting slip the child she also locked away tightly within her. Whenever she was truly anxious, she would twist at the ring on her finger, and her shoulders would relax as if the small object would smother her in a blanket of comfort.

Despite her words being few, Kirika cherished every single one of them. "I told you before. The day I arrived, I was going to kill myself too. Because he was the only good thing in my life and without him there, everything else seemed pointless. I just wanted my best friend back, if I had to die for that to happen then so be it."

She paused, turning around to face the other girl fully, "You remind me a lot of him. That's why I refused to leave you behind back there. Because I don't want to lose another friend."

Michiko looked back at her, eyes shining with a wave of realisation. Kirika sent her a gentle, tearful smile, a reassuring gaze that told her she understood her pain. She understood her fears. She understood why she had tried pushing her away, despite how frustrating it was and how it had cracked sharp fissures into Kirika's heart. Neither of them had wanted to witness the death of another person precious to them. Both had expressed those fears in different ways. But they understood each other's worries.

Michiko was indeed a girl of few words, but her actions spoke louder and truer than any words that left her lips. Her hand reached out, shaking with hesitation. The warmth of her fingers collided with Kirika's, and when they did, she curled her own around them, sniffling slightly and smiling gently at the contact.

"Just promise me you won't do anything like that again?" Michiko's eyes found hers, waiting impatiently for the other girl's response.

Kirika chuckled softly, her lashes clumping together from the wetness around her eyes, "As long as you can promise not to be so reckless and leave yourself behind again. You have to live."

The corners of Michiko's lips twitched, something indescribable lighting up in her eyes. "Promise." She nodded.

Kirika swallowed, allowing her smile to widen, "Then I promise as well."

The two girl's pinkies naturally coiled around each other, finding a home in each other's warmth. Kirika's mask continued to crack, and so did Michiko's. The children hidden away underneath, finally had the opportunity to emerge from the dark that shrouded them.

♤♡◇♧

They had opened the door to the roof and crept down the stairs with trepidation, nervous about any lingering poison in the air. But their fears were unwarranted. They had spent a long half an hour on that rooftop, their anxiousness interrupted by the booming explosion of a distant game venue on the other side of Tokyo. They had watched flickering red lasers descend from an unknown origin in the clouds, breaking up the thick blanket of dark night sky. Game over for other players.

Arata had taken the lead, keeping the girls behind him as they searched for the nearest elevator. It had been Michiko's suggestion, the girl proposing that with the building's power supply still active, the elevators may still be running. She ended up being correct in her assessment, and the group had an easier trip down than they did going up. Kirika was relieved, her aching legs protesting the thought of having to make the return trip down.

She wanted nothing more in that very moment than to collapse into her bed back at the Beach and rest.

The car ride back to the Beach was much the same as the journey to the game venue. Silence punctuated by the quiet chatter that occurred between Kuina and Arata. Only the air was less tense.

In the back of her mind Kirika knew there would still be progress to make. Michiko wasn't going to immediately allow herself to put her worries aside. But that night was a start, and a heated determination bubbled in Kirika's gut to continue to push Michiko on this pathway.

To help her get better.

To get her to trust that she was sincere.

Losing one friend to the battle inside his head made Kirika sure in her decision that she wasn't going to see another friend go down the same path. Michiko was destined for another. And Kirika would be the one to set her on it.

Partying was in full swing when they got back, the music blaring loud enough for any stragglers across Tokyo to hear. Bodies were already in motion, drinking away the night's tragedies in a desperate attempt to dull their minds enough to forget.

It was a pathetic sight in Kirika's head. A display of the lowest points of humanity. How these people had let go of themselves because they couldn't handle what the games took. How, when given the chance and with all the rules stripped away, humanity descended into depravity.

She caught sight of two tall figures swerving through the crowd with ease, surveying the bodies with hungry eyes and her stomach dropped, bile rising in her throat. The depravity of those few who held power was the worst out of them all. They prowled the corridors in search of their next meal, and they feasted, never facing consequences for the violence they used to satiate their twisted desires. Wolves amongst sheep.

Kirika hid herself behind Michiko as one of the wolves' eyes wandered a little too close for comfort. But Nobutoshi's eyes passed by, unaware of her and relief flooded her chest.

The four of them found themselves occupying a pair of sunbeds by the pool, away from the thicket of semi-drunk, dancing bodies. The silence between them was stilted and awkward, no one knowing where to begin.

Kirika watched as Michiko's eyes wandered the crowds, gaze distant and searching. A frown fixated on Kirika's face as she figured she must be on the look-out for a head of white-blonde hair. A part of her wished for Chishiya not to show his face, if only to have her time with Michiko uninterrupted for a few moments longer without his irritating, conceited presence.

Kuina was the one who finally broke the disturbed silence, her fake cigarette placed firmly back in her mouth now that she found herself more relaxed. "So, did you two know each other before arriving here or..." The older woman's curious voice trailed off in her questioning.

Shaking her head, Kirika was the one who answered, with a soft smile, her polite mask slipping back on "We met in my first game. Michiko practically saved all of our lives and I've stuck with her since."

"Don't put it like that," Michiko grumbled, gently hitting Kirika's arm as her attention was finally pulled from searching for Chishiya, "You make me sound like some sort of fairytale hero."

"Well, you are to me," Kirika shrugged, grin widening, as she turned to the other girl, "You've saved my life loads of times. I appreciate it!"

Michiko's response to that was a small click of the tongue and her eyes rolling. The action caused Kuina to chuckle, "And you plan on getting back home together?"

The question had both girl's turning their heads to the older woman, and Kirika gave a short bob of her head, "Mhmm."

"Well," Michiko began, her voice trailing off as if she had started to speak before knowing what she was actually going to say. Kirika saw the conflict pass through her eyes, the other girl swallowing, "It's not as if I have anyone else to go back to... so yeah, I guess we will try to make it back together."

"If it makes you feel any better there's no one else I'd rather make it back home with," Kirika responded.

Arata sent the girls a soft smile, eyes welling up with a bittersweet gaze, "I hope you do. Many of us have lost the people we promised to make it back home with."

Placing a gentle hand upon Arata's shoulder in a touch that lasted only a second, Kuina turned to the girls, "You should cherish every moment you have. Make the most of your time. Any of us could die at any point. I would hate to die with regrets." The conversation had taken a sudden somber tone, as Kuina pulled the fake cigarette from her lips, "It's why quit smoking. I want to be in the best shape I can be for the games because I want to do all I can to get back home to my mother." She swallowed, placing the fake cigarette back between her lips, "She's sick, and I don't want to leave her on her own."

A rush of admiration flowed through Kirika, expressed through the gentle smile that curled on her lips, "I would like to go back home and continue on with my life." Her head dipped down, eyes finding the floor as she felt heat embrace her cheeks, "I think I want a really simple life when I get back. I want a successful career and everything, but I would also love to start a family."

She looked up, seeing the three pairs of eyes fixated on her. It caused her heart to leap, to see people actually listening, instead of passing over her as if she wasn't worthy of speaking. Like her parents often did. "When I have kids of my own, I'm going to break the cycle in my family. I'm not going to control their lives like mine was... It sounds dumb I know." She broke away from their gazes, a flush of sheepishness casting a blanket over her.

It was Arata who was next to speak, "It isn't stupid. It's very admirable. I-" He paused, "I know what it's like, having a family who doesn't respect your wishes. Who makes you feel like your dreams are unworthy." He let go of a deep sigh through his nose, "I think if I get back... for starters I'll make sure my friends are remembered... and- and I think I'll take their advice and follow my childhood dream."

"Your childhood dream?" Kuina questioned, her head dipping forward in interest.

"To be a singer." Arata mumbled under his breath, as if the admission was something to be ashamed of.

Kuina let out an indignant huff, "You never told me this?"

"I'm sure I did. I must have?"

"You most certainly did not. You absolutely must sing for me some time. I demand it." Kuina pulled her fake cigarette from her mouth and poked at Arata with it. Kirika giggled at the sight of the two friends arguing lightly. The younger girl turned to Michiko. Her hands were clenched on the seat of the sunbed with a white-knuckled grip. The pensive stare glued on her face had Kirika frowning.

Fixing a small smile back on her lips, she nudged the other girl's shoulder, the touch lasting only a moment, but enough to break Michiko out of whatever place she had gone to. "And what about you Michiko?"

"Hm?" Blinking rapidly, Michiko turned her gaze onto Kirika, her eyes reconnecting to the present moment. Kuina and Arata had ceased their arguing, turning to them with faces full of curiosity. Michiko's shoulders rose under the scrutiny.

"Do you plan on doing anything when you get back home?" Kirika prodded.

There was a slight quiver in Michiko's lip, and her throat bobbed. She looked down, the long strands of her dark hair shadowing her face, "I- I don't know. I wasn't really doing anything productive with my life, so I don't really know what I'd do if I made it back to the real world."

"Well, you're still young, you've got time to figure it out," Kuina stated with a short upward curve of her lips.

Michiko huffed, "Well I won't if I'm dead." Kirika saw the other girl's features twist, cringing at the statement, an acute self-awareness of her own words turning the conversation sour. The effect was immediate, as frowns overtook Arata and Kuina's face, the two adults turning their gazes away uncomfortably. An awkward silence befell them, interrupted only by the continuously pounding bass of music that rang in Kirika's ears.

In another attempt to steer the conversation into territory that was less discomforting, Kuina sucked through her teeth, "So has it just been the two of you before you got to the Beach?"

It was Michiko who answered this time, "We had Chishiya with us as well, he arrived at the Beach with us. And there was-" Her voice hitched before she could say the name, eyes going distant, glazing over as the painful memory was stirred up in her mind.

Seeing her head arriving in that place, Kirika swallowed and reached out, placing her hand over Michiko's and curling her fingers around hers. Michiko's blinked back the grief that was threatening to tip over the edge, eyes flickering to their entwined hands before settling on her, eyes softening gratefully.

"There was Mr. Nakajima." Kirika took over answering, "He- He looked after us. And he was the reason we survived the six of hearts game." Her voice trailed off quietly, "He was really brave."

"He deserved to survive." Michiko mumbled, downcast eyes seeking the floor regretfully.

There was a short stretch of silence at the admission, before Arata finally chimed in on their conversation, "It seems a lot of the people who deserved to survive end up dying." His eyes glanced around, before fixating themselves on an unseen figure, his throat bobbing in unease. "And those who deserve to die, survive."

Twisting around, Kirika caught sight of who had taken Arata's focus and her hair stood up, her skin crawling with goosebumps, blood draining from her face. From the other side of the pool, the group had caught the unwanted attention of Niragi and his entourage of fellow militants. The man's predatory gaze flickered between Arata and Michiko, a twisted smirk curling at his lips. His rifle was settled on his shoulders as always, his blatant display of the power he abused.

However, Kirika was less focused on him and more on the pair of hungry eyes that had fixated themselves on her, sending a shuddering chill down her back. Kato Nobutoshi hadn't shied away from his initial interest. Whenever she wandered the Beach's halls she could feel his stalking gaze.

He hadn't tried approaching her again. Not yet at least.

She froze under his gaze as he sauntered over, sticking close to Niragi's side.

The hand clutched around Michiko's tightened reflexively, as if the simple contact with her friend could provide shelter from the man's deviant eyes.

The entire atmosphere shifted as they tore through the crowd, uncomfortable silence followed by anxious fidgeting. A curse from Kuina barely reached her ears as the group of militants drew closer, "Word of advice," the woman hissed a whisper to them, "If you want an easy time in this place, do all you can to avoid those guys."

She heard a huff from beside her. "It's a bit late for that. He decided to cross me first," Michiko spat under her breath, and Kirika couldn't help but sympathize with her hateful tone. Kuina's features twisted with a mild concern, but she couldn't get any more words out before the pack descended.

Niragi, face plastered with a self-satisfied grin, plopped down next to Arata, throwing a casual arm around him and giving his shoulders a shake. Arata seized up at the uncomfortable closeness. "We seem to be having fun over here, eh, Arata?" He chuckled menacingly, boring his eyes into the side of Arata's head, the other man keeping his own gaze ahead in an act of defiance. Finding no reaction from Arata, Niragi then turned to the next victim he could torment. "And you, little mouse? You seem to be making quite a lot of friends eh? I'm kind of jealous." The man leaned across the gap between the sunbeds, towards Michiko, "Here I thought we were friends." He said, punctuating the end of his sentence with a sinister, nasally chuckle.

Kirika wanted to turn and watch Michiko's reaction to Niragi's goading, but the looming shadow of Nobutoshi had frozen her in place with shivers racking down her spine. She blinked rapidly as she attempted to keep her composure. But the heat of the man's proximity burned her skin, which caused her difficulty in keeping her mask on.

"I wouldn't be your friend if you were the last man on earth." Michiko said dryly. The coldness of her rage emanated off of her, spilling into the contact between their hands. It only lasted a second, but the slight squeeze of Michiko's hand spoke to her of her acknowledgement of Kirika's discomfort, and she found herself able to tear her eyes away from the floor in front of her to the girl beside her.

Michiko was facing Niragi, expression screwed up in distaste at the man's presence. However, every few seconds, they flickered subtly over to the tall man leering down at Kirika, silent, with his hair shadowing hungry eyes.

"What did you just say?" Niragi questioned incredulously, a huff of scorned laughter escaping him.

With a click of her tongue, Michiko didn't back down, a surge of confidence and defiance emerging in her demeanour, "I said, I would rather die than be your friend." Across from them, Kirika caught Arata's face shift, his eyes flickering apprehensively between Michiko and Niragi.

Shooting to his feet, Niragi took advantage of his height, looming over Michiko to cast a threatening shadow. The girl's jaw tightened as she kept her gaze resolute, refusing to shy away from his intimidation tactics. "That's something that can certainly be arranged."

"Whilst we're on the subject of 'arranging'," Michiko taunted, "I would appreciate you having your friend rearrange his eyes somewhere other than my friend. It's rather sickening."

Kirika could feel the gaze of the man standing by her side shift to Michiko, the rustle of clothes reaching her ears as she caught him crossing his arms out of the corner of his eye. "And what are you going to do if I don't?" The man sneered.

Michiko's head tilted, her eyes fixating on the other man. There was a beat of nervous silence. The entire crowd held their breath. The pounding of Kirika's heart was in her ears, threatening to also leap out of her chest. Her breath was caught in her throat.

Standing slowly, Michiko held her head high, not letting the threats of the men's shadows push her back down. Stepping one step closer to the other man on Niragi's right, she lifted her head up to him, lips curling in an anticipatory smirk, "I guess you'd have to try me and find out."

The man huffed out a disbelieved laugh, tongue sticking out between his teeth as he shook his head, "This fucking brat."

Then all hell broke loose.

♤♡◇♧

Michiko felt the slap before she saw it. Her cheek stung as the man's hand whipped out, back-handing her across the face. She stumbled back, Kirika standing immediately to catch her as she pawed at her throbbing cheekbone. Before she could recover, a hand gripped itself tightly around her throat, agitating the still tender bruises. With her airway cut off, her breath hitched as her face was forced in front of the culprit's own, his twisted anger bearing down on her. The acidic tang of his breath stung her nose.

Kirika cried in protest, but her arms snapped away in fright. From the other side, Arata had stood with a gasp. Niragi's hand shot out, keeping a tight grip on the other man's shirt to prevent him from getting in between the action.

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to, you little bitch." Flecks of spit landed on Michiko's face and she cringed in disgust.

"A damn piece of shit." She retorted, voice coming through raspy. The entirety of their surroundings were blanketed in anticipatory silence, as the rest of the Beach's residents watched the scene, none daring to come to Michiko's aid. Even the music had been cut, adding to the tense scene. All that punctuated the air was the man's angered huffs and Michiko's strained gasps.

Wincing as the grip on her throat tightened, Michiko jerked away, unsuccessful in her attempt to rid herself of the man's hand. "I'd think twice before speaking that way to an executive. I should make an example of you."

There was a breath of laughter beside her ear as Niragi decided to put himself in the action, crouching down to put himself beside Michiko's face, the hot air of his breath hitting her aching cheek, "I think we should, Nobu. Someone as outspoken as this might just turnout to be a traitor. We'd be doing Hatter a favour, wouldn't we?" There was a sly smirk shared between the two men, like they were privy to a secret no one else was. As Niragi pulled himself up to his full height, towering over Michiko, he bumped shoulders with his friend, "I'd let you have the honours. As long as I get to watch."

"It would be my pleasure." The pressure on her throat tightened, threatening to snap to bones in her neck. Michiko's hands automatically came out, grappling at Nobu's wrist to pull him off. But the man's hand remained immovable.

A fake pitying pout pursed at Niragi's lips, "Aww, the little mouse is fighting back. How cute."

"Can I interrupt?" A timid voice dropped into the fray, sending the tension in the air rippling outwards as everyone turned to the culprit. Michiko's eyes flickered behind Nobu. Tsuyoshi had suddenly manifested, eyes scanning the scene with a hidden concern. His eyes locked onto Michikos' perilous position, before flickering back to Niragi. The distraction afforded Michiko some relief, as Nobu's grip slackened. Not enough for her to pull away.

Clicking his tongue in anoyance, Niragi turned to the younger boy, "What?"

"Sorry Niragi, didn't mean to interrupt your..." He paused, eyes rolling up as he put on a show of thinking, "fun. But I was wondering if you had seen my sister at all. She went out with your group but I haven't seen her return yet."

"She's dead, you moron." Niragi said bluntly.

"What?"

A smirk curled on Niragi's lips as he looked down at the boy, "She fell behind so she was left behind. What more do you want?" The man shrugged casually.

Michiko watched momentarily as skepticism flashed through Tsuyoshi's eyes. She attempted to pull herself away from the mildly looser grip whilst the boy distracted the older men. But Nobu was quick on her heels, and she gasped sharply, wincing as the fingers tightened once again.

"Not so fast, brat." Nobu hissed down at her. "I'm not done with you."

A voice tore through the crowd, furious and scorned, "NIRAGI!"

Many eyes turned towards the Beach's entrance. Michiko attempted to twist her head around, being able to get far enough to set her eyes upon the figure of a girl standing by the pool's gates, face bloodied and hair matted. Clear signs of a struggle to survive. The crowd parted like the red sea as Tsuyomi stormed through the throng of people towards their group, her breath heaving.

In a daze of confusion upon seeing a very alive Tsuyomi, Niragi wasn't prepared for the girl's fist flying out and colliding with his cheek.

A gasp tore through Michiko's throat as Nobu automatically let go of her to aid his friend. Her hand clutched at her throat as she coughed heavily, her airways now free of any previous compression. She tried to shake the visions from her head of the man from the four of hearts, who'd had her in a similar position just days before. The still visible bruises around her neck must've been a tempting invitation for Nobutoshi, and burning anger reared it's ugly head as she glared at his back.

Warmth landed on her shoulders, and she looked up to find that Kirika and Arata had surrounded her, hands placed on her shoulders in a defensive gesture. She looked back upon the scene between Tsuyomi and Niragi, the fury quieting slightly.

Recovering swiftly from the punch, Niragi rose to his full height, towering himself intimidatingly above Tsuyomi. "You fucking bitch. You're going to wish you were dead when I'm done with you."

Tsuyomi kept herself tall, her gaze meeting Niragi's in an act of defiance few would have the courage to carry out. She remained unwavering, and Michiko stared in awe, slack-jawed, debating with herself whether the girl was either extremely brave or incredibly stupid.

Probably both.

A lean figure pushed himself between the two. "Okay, why don't we just calm down here." Tsuyoshi, tone appeasing in an attempt at diplomacy, placed his hands out placatingly between Niragi and his sister. Neither of the two drew their gazes away from each other to acknowledge him, both battling for dominance.

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me Yoshi." Tsuyomi said through gritted teeth.

"Tch, maybe you should accept his help. If it was you and me one on one you'd lose, little girl." Niragi taunted with a laugh, staring down at her over Tsuyoshi's head.

"You're fucking dead!" Tsuyomi snapped, launching herself at the taller man, being held back by her younger brother whose face twisted in concern. Michiko could see the gears running behind his eyes, the need to protect his older sister from egging Niragi on too much whilst the man still held a loaded weapon.

"That's enough!" The shout came from right next to her, and her head twisted up to see Arata's jaw clenched as he looked upon the scene. At the unexpected input, Niragi's head snapped away from Tsuyomi, fixating his predatory eyes on a nervously gulping Arata.

"What?" Niragi's pierced eyebrow raised up.

Nostrils flaring with a steadying breath, Arata found his voice again, "You've had your fun Niragi. Why don't you just leave it alone for one night?"

Huffing incredulously, Niragi stalked over, head tilting as he studied the other man. Michiko took an automatic step back into Kirika's comforting shadow, skin burning angrily at Niragi's proximity. "I'm only just getting started, Arata." The man uttered directly into Arata's face, the other man cringing with every word.

Tilting his head upward slightly, using all of his strength not to buckle under Niragi's intimidation, Arata spoke once more, "Don't you ever get tired of bullying others?"

Breathing a laugh through his nose, a disbelieving smirk curled at Niragi's lips, before his expression darkened, "You think just because you have Hatter's favour you can look down on me?"

"That's not-"

"I still outrank you, you fucking ant. I would have no trouble squashing you under my boot, so don't talk back to me again or-"

"What's going on here?" A deep voice interrupted Niragi before he could finish his threat. All heads turned towards the owner, including Michiko who tore her irate gaze away from Niragi. Aguni stood there, posture stiff, hands in his pocket. His hardened face was blank and his eyes scanned the crowd with mild intrigue. His gaze fixated on Tsuyomi's bloodied features and split lip, the expression shifting so slightly into a frown that Michiko caught.

"Nothing, Aguni." Niragi claimed, bumping shoulders with Nobu with a casual smirk, "Just having some fun is all."

"Well finish up," The stocky man ordered, "Hatter's called an executive meeting."

Michiko caught Niragi's face falling at the statement, scowling like someone had just ripped his favourite toy from him. He turned back round to Arata, eyes flicking between him and Michiko, before hissing "We're not done here."

Michiko watched him stomp away, eyes narrowing as they followed his back. Relieved sighs echoed around her, and Kirika's grip on her shoulder relaxed as Nobu stalked away behind Niragi. Not without one last leering glance back to the girl who hid behind her. "We'll catch up soon, eh Kirika?"

The shiver that ran down Kirika's body resonated through her contact with Michiko and she automatically took a step to shield her from the man's gaze. His sharp eyes turned to her, narrowing in a glare, before he followed after his friend.

From her side, Arata released a breath, eyes closing as he steadied himself. His shoulders seized up again when Aguni's deep voice cut through the air, "Arata, Tsuyoshi, you're also required at the meeting."

Michiko's eyes turned towards the older man, his mouth parting and eyes widening behind his glasses slightly. Realisation flickered through his gaze and he quickly nodded to Aguni, before turning to Kuina and the two younger girls. "I'll be back soon. I don't think this will take too long."

Kuina, still sat on the sunbed, wide eyed and in shock, nodded. Placing a hand on her shoulder, Arata shuffled away, moving past Aguni.

Tsuyoshi was in a similar position, whispering softly with his sister. There was a shared nod between them, before the boy joined Aguni's side. The older man gripped the boy's shoulder firmly, leaning down to whisper something in his ear. Tsuyoshi's eyes snapped up to the man, wide like a deer in the headlights, before swallowing as the man nodded. The boy bobbed his head back, before following quickly after Arata.

Aguni's eyes then turned to Tsuyomi, and although they remained guarded, Michiko saw a flicker of softness as they appraised the girl's bloodied state. "Go get cleaned up Yomi," The man ordered, before stalking off after everyone else.

With the absence of the militants stirring up tension, the crowd collectively descended back into their active chatter. An air of unease still lingering until one wayward partier let out a cheer and the music started up once again. Michiko watched in disbelief as the crowd immediately switched, acting as though nothing had occurred.

Wiping her face, Tsuyomi stormed off with a huff, and Michiko watched her go, a hint of concern flooding through her.

"That was absolutely mad," Kuina's voice spoke up as the woman stood, arms crossing as her eyes remained in the direction the executive group had gone. Her gaze then fixed itself on Michiko and the girl attempted not to wither under the glare of perturbed judgement, "Do you have a death wish or something?"

Shrugging off the heated stare, Michiko responded, "Maybe. But you can't deny that Niragi deserves it."

"Well, crossing him is a fantastic way to get yourself killed."

As long as I can take him down with me, Michiko thought bitterly to herself. Thinking about Niragi and what he did sent waves of rage churning through her. Every single time she saw the man, she saw him.

Ichida staring back at her, a glimpse of hope in his eyes. The gunshot. Ichida lying there, bleeding out. Michiko helpless to stop it from happening despite the fact she had just beaten the game to save him.

She felt the sting of his absence every day. Every time she turned to search for his guidance. When she felt the rising ache of her father's violence and needed the man's level head to ensure her she wasn't turning into him. When she felt the bad emotions taking over and needed him to comfort her. The grief remained fresh after five days of not having him constantly by her side.

She just wanted to see his smile again.

"She does indeed have a death wish it seems." A cold voice spoke up from behind her, jumping her out of her raging thoughts with a flinch. Snapping her head around, her eyes caught Chishiya standing there - having snuck up on her silently a cat - hands in his pockets and white hood over his head.

"Fucking hell." Michiko grumbled, "Are you going to make a habit of sneaking up on people like that?"

"Only when you're not paying attention. Something like that can get you killed, you know." The blonde-haired man said plainly.

Clicking her tongue, Michiko responded dryly, "And we all know 'I'm too useful to get myself killed'."

"Hm, she's learning." Chishiya's eyes roved over the others present - narrowing upon seeing Kirika clinging to her side - before they settled curiously upon Kuina, eyebrows raising. The woman met his gaze equally, her own brow rising when Chishiya's lip tilted slightly up on one side. "I see you've been making more friends."

"I have. Chishiya this is Kuina, Kuina this is Chishiya." Michiko introduced, crossing her arms and nodding her head between the two of them.

"Ah," Kuina's expression lit up in recognition, "So, you're the famous Chishiya? Arata talks about you."

Brow furrowing slightly, Chishiya's head tilted, "How nice to hear." His lips tightened smugly. He turned his head back to meet Michiko's gaze, eyes glinting expectantly. Tilting his head away from the rest of the group, Michiko understood his unspoken message.

Turning back to Kirika, she whispered, "Meet me on the roof tomorrow morning."

"But-" The girl began, hand grabbing her wrist.

Shaking her head, Michiko interrupted, "I need to go. We'll catch up tomorrow."

Relenting her grip, Kirika nodded despondently. Kuina piped up from Michiko's other side, "Don't worry. I'll look out for her. It's been a pretty long night tonight for everyone."

Nodding at the woman's kind offer, Michiko found herself following behind Chishiya's white-clothed back, preparing herself for what would probably turn into a pretty lengthy discussion.

♤♡◇♧

Under the uncharacteristic solemness of Hatter's stare, Tsuyoshi was holding his breath.

The conference room was dimly lit with an orange glow. The wall at the back with the painted deck of cards was exposed, and Hatter's underlings were scurrying around, sorting through the cards that had been handed in, crossing off any new acquisitions or making note of duplicates.

The activity around the long table was quieter, yet the tension was deafening. Hatter stood at the end, behind his designated chair, shoulders drawn up and hair over his eyes as they scanned the rest of the executives that sat around the tables in various states of comfort and unease.

Tsuyoshi's own eyes surveyed the people present, eight out of what should have been ten executives. Mira was the most casual out of them all, long hair framing her face neatly as she sat brimming with anticipated excitement. On Hatter's left sat Kuzuryuu, leaning forward on his elbows, face stony and serious behind his glasses.

Opposite him, short haired Ann leaned back, lips pursed and expression hidden behind her large sunglasses. Down the table and furthest away from Hatter were the militant representatives. Niragi and Nobutoshi sat together, the former observing the crowd with an easy smirk and the latter with his hand placed in his chin, eyes expressing boredom, like he'd much rather be anywhere else. Tsuyoshi knew that these two in particular found these meetings to be tedious, never failing to complain when Hatter called them.

Last Boss, gaunt face covered in sharp looking tattoos, was the only one not sitting around the table. The man opted to lean back against the nearest wall, elbows resting against the katana that never left his side. His presence always put Tsuyoshi on edge, a silent, lurking shadow that always appeared out of nowhere. He was difficult to read, and Tsuyoshi never knew what the man was thinking behind his blank eyes.

Aguni sat closest to where Tsuyoshi stood anxiously, the opposite end of the table from Hatter, the distance almost representing the divide that had been drawn between the two friends since the Beach was established. The younger boy caught the man's reassuring gaze, Aguni giving him a subtle nod. Swallowing, Tsuyoshi nodded back, his attention returning to Hatter, who's eyes finally fell upon him and the man who stood beside him.

Arata's countenance was as anxious as Tsuyoshi's, the older man's hands fidgeting and his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. Behind the lenses of his glasses, his eyes flickered across each of the executives.

A heavy sigh escaped Hatter, the attention in the room immediately shifting to him as he pulled his arms away from the back of his chair. "This is the first time this has happened in the Beach's short history," The man began, voice devoid of the false charisma he usually wears like a costume, "However, we have unfortunately lost two executives to the games tonight. Akari and Goro served the Beach well, and they'll be remembered fondly."

The silence lingered at the end of the admission, and Hatter moved around the table, slowly coming to a stop in front of Tsuyoshi and Arata. The younger boy bit his lip in trepidation as the man placed a heavy hand on each of their shoulders. His eyes fell on Tsuyoshi first, "Tsuyoshi, from the Beach's foundation you've shown incredible loyalty to its cause. And Arata," Hatter switched his gaze to the other man, "The Beach would not be where it is without you, you have been an exemplary addition to its ranks."

Nodding, the man removed his hands from their shoulders, and Tsuyoshi's heart sped up, the heat of his blood rising to the surface of his skin as the man pulled out two blue locker keys, the number's nine and ten respectively penned on them, "So, as you two are the next in line, it's with great pleasure that I name you both as executives."

Hand reaching out, Tsuyoshi took the locker key with trembling hands, staring down at it with wide eyed appreciation. He ran his thumb over the number nine written on it, before his eyes looked up in search of Aguni. The man stared back at him, a slight curl at the end of his lips, subtle enough that only someone who was searching would find it. An expression of pride.

Feeling the edges of his lips tremble with the threat of a smile, Tsuyoshi quickly stretched the locker key over his wrist.

Heart swelling, he missed the knowing looks that the rest of the militant faction cast to each other.

Chapter Text

DAY 17

♤♡◇♧

A system in the process of purging itself will never run as smoothly as you need it. Minute cogs will get stuck repeating the same pattern over and over. The head of the machine will cycle through various fail safes to keep itself on its feet.

In the plainest terms; Tsuyomi felt like shit.

Her brother kept a tight rule over her substance intake on game days. No drugs. No alcohol. Nothing that could cloud the mind. Though Tsuyomi could argue that purging her system on those days actually made her mind run slower. Certain stimuli kept her in focus, not that he would understand. 

Clarity was non-existent during last night's game. It was what allowed Niragi to get the upper hand on her. One moment Tsuyomi is pulling herself through the game no problem – albeit a little more out of balance than normal. The next, the butt of a rifle was being slammed into her nose and Niragi was leaving her behind to save his own hide when shit got real. Tsuyomi had to drag herself through the remainder of it by the skin of her teeth. She very nearly didn’t survive.

The satisfaction she got when seeing the surprise on Niragi’s face when she appeared at the gates alive and well - actually not so well - made the brush with death and subsequent walk home worth it.

Addled from the day's events, she could hardly keep up with everything that was happening. All she could recall was Tsuyoshi being dragged off to an executive meeting and Aguni telling her to take a shower.

Tsuyomi wanted to do nothing more than get high. Therein lay the problem. Yoshi, in all his attempts to help her get clean , had hidden every single stash she kept in their room. Every surface was torn up, sheets ripped off the bed, clothes chucked haphazardly on the floor in the hopes that he missed at least one. The state of the room matched her mind. Pure, utter chaos.

In all of his meticulousness, Tsuyoshi had flushed every single drug inside that room. She had screamed in frustration and drowned herself in the shower - not bothering to patch up her wounds. She wanted some relief from the mess that was her mind, even if that meant taking advantage of her physical pain. It was safe to say Tsuyoshi was met with her blazing wrath when he returned.

After giving him a blurry piece of her mind - her exact words slipping away from her memory shortly after - she lay numbly in bed, surrounded in sweat soaked sheets as her body attempted to purge every single toxin. And everything burned. Another sleepless night was in store, so she didn’t even bother to try. Instead, when dawn broke upon the horizon, Tsuyomi looked over at her heavily sleeping brother and scoffed.

How dare he find peace when she was suffering inside her own skin.

Limbs heavy, she dragged herself out of bed, ignoring the tender ache inside all of her muscles. With shaking fingers she searched for her packet of cigarettes and made her way upstairs, attempting to recall the conversation from last night.

Oh right. Tsuyoshi was an executive now. 

The fact left a bitter taste on her tongue. Tsuyoshi was another step closer to freedom whilst she still remained three feet too far from him. Fuck that smug blonde-haired bastard that hung around Michiko. 

The number thirteen spot was meant to be hers. When the previous number thirteen died, leaving a gaping hole in the Beach’s ranks, Tsuyomi was expecting to fill it. Instead, it was handed to that newcomer. Tsuyomi liked Michiko. She hated her companion guard dog.

There was supposed to only be one obstacle that had lay between her and her brother’s positions before he came along. 

As callous as it sounded, Tsuyomi knew it was only a matter of time before Arata was killed by this world. Whether that be by the games or by Niragi’s hand. Tsuyomi often begged for it to happen. If things had gone as they were meant, she and Tsuyoshi would be one rank behind each other, and would hopefully have been able to leave this world together – or at least in quick succession.

Now all of their plans were upended just as her mind was.

Slamming the door to the roof open, Tsuyomi stormed out. The cool air brought at least some relief to her sweltering skin.

She wasn’t alone. 

Sat on the ledge, staring blankly out at the sunrise, was Michiko, wrapped up in her usual hoodie to stave off the early morning chill. Her inky hair shone in the soft orange glow. Despite the clatter of the door opening in Tsuyomi’s wake, it hadn’t caught her attention.

Huffing, Tsuyomi stepped over to her, plopping herself down in the spot next to her and hitting her arm to grab her attention. The younger teen flinched, arms raising instinctually. Tsuyomi just raised her eyebrows, and when Michiko’s eyes registered her presence, her arms lowered. But her shoulders remained hunched. Defensive. Unwilling to let go of the tension that claimed them.

Silently, Tsuyomi offered the pack of cigarettes to her as a white flag of truce. Rubbing her lips together, the younger teen took one, shaky hands handing her the lighter next. Tsuyomi ignored the way Michiko’s eyes lingered on her trembling fingers.

The acrid smell of burning tobacco soon permeated the morning air.

“I hate your friend.” Tsuyomi broke the uneasy silence. “Chishiya. He’s a dick.”

A huff of amusement escaped Michiko. “I understand the sentiment.”

“Wow, even his friends don’t like him. Must be a real asshole then.”

“I wouldn’t call us friends. Just… uneasy allies.” Michiko shrugged.

“You’d trust a piece of shit like that?” Tsuyomi leveled her with a vacant stare.

Michiko bit her lip, taking a shuddering drag of her cigarette. “We have common goals.” A long pause. Tsuyomi wanted to fill it but didn’t know what to say. “Why do you hate him? You hardly know him.”

Scoffing, Tsuyomi turned to her, “Things were falling into place before he came along. My brother’s advancing in the ranks in this shithole whilst I’m still stuck three steps behind.”

“So you hate Chishiya because he took your spot?”

“Yeah, that about covers it.”

Michiko said nothing, before shrugging nonchalantly. “That makes sense.”

“Did you ever make things right with your friend?” Tsuyomi had noticed the two girls hanging close to each other the previous night, in the midst of all the chaos after she’d socked Niragi in the face. 

“I think I did… Talking about my emotions has never been my strong suit. But we’re trying to figure things out. One step at a time.” Michiko bit her lip, staring out into the steady rising sun.

“Good. We wouldn’t want to die with regrets now, would we?” Hitting her shoulder with her own, Tsuyomi took a drag of her own cigarette.

She liked Michiko well enough. There were many similarities between them. They saw the world in the same cynical, sordid way. Though where Tusyomi tried living what possible remained of her days chasing as much ecstasy as could be inhabited in her body, Michiko went about it steeped in an aura of misery. As though she could not be bothered with the efforts of maintaining her own happiness.

It was a rather depressing sight. One Tsuyomi was determined to fix.

Not for Michiko’s sake. But because Tsuyomi wanted more friends her age. She was a selfish creature after all.

She’d tried to haggle friendship out of Momoka and Asahi when they’d arrived. But the two clung to each other like glue, spooked easily by the rest of the Beach’s inhabitants. Just when Tsuymoi would be on the cusp of breakthrough, they would scarper.

Then Michiko came along with hateful eyes and a twin resentment for her least favourite person. Not to mention, her brother had become entirely besotted with the girl – despite only knowing her for mere days. But their minutes were numbered in this world. Life’s small pleasures should at least be experienced before they perish; first love being one of them. Tsuyomi wouldn’t mind playing matchmaker.

“Why do you–” Michiko began, before stopping herself.

“Why do I what?” Tsuyomi urged. 

“Why do you – take drugs and drink and all that? Wouldn’t that hinder you in the games?”

It was the same question Yoshi had asked when she fell into the clutches of haze.

Tsuyomi took a long drag of her cigarette, trying to figure out how best to word it. It wasn’t as if she had entered this world with addiction clinging onto her. In fact, Tsuyomi had been a model student. The top female athlete for track and field in her high school with a fast track to the University of Tokyo to live out her dreams. She had long legs, and hurdles had been her specialty. 

She’d just won the national championship for the 200m category, making her family proud. 

Then they ended up here. Their dad had taken them out for lunch and a shopping trip, a reward for Tsuyomi’s gold medal. Tsuyomi had hidden out in the toilets. Whilst drugs hadn’t yet become her vice of choice, like most high school students, she had to rebel in some way when the pressures of being perfect became too much. Escaping for a cigarette, she hadn’t expected to emerge to both an irate Tsuyoshi and an empty shopping mall. 

They hunted their dad down. Only there was no sign of him. The empty world seemed like paradise for a few short hours. An escape from responsibility. Only for cold, harsh reality to set in alongside the night sky..

“We’ve all seen the same sights in this world. At first it was a way to rid myself of the memories. But then I decided if I am to die here, I don’t want to die miserable.” Tsuyomi took a drag of her cigarette, turning to the younger teen. “There’s no use in dying sad. We’ve still got to live our lives and somehow forget all the bad shit. This is the only way I know how.”

Another pause settled between the two of them, Michiko’s eyes narrowing as she considered her words. “I wouldn’t recommend it though. The come downs are the worst. I feel like utter crap right now. Stick to cigarettes and beer. They aren’t as bad.”

“It’s not like I was tempted. Just curious.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Tsuyomi bit her lip, studying Michiko for a moment. The girl appeared to have the entire weight of the world on her shoulders. Not to mention the unkempt appearance. Dark purple spider-webbing in the cracks of skin underneath her eyes. Sunken cheeks and distant eyes. The distinct, hand-shaped bruises around her neck that she attempted to hide by zipping her hoodie all the way up.

She looked like how Tsuyomi felt. Hell..

“Do you want to get out of this place for a bit?” Tsuyomi asked.

“What?”

“You look like you could use some time away from this place. Now that Tsuyoshi’s an executive, as long as he accompanies us we can leave the beach for a little while.”

“Tsuyoshi’s an executive?” 

“Mhm.” Tsuyomi nodded, missing the way Michiko’s face lit up, twisting into a pondering expression. “Two executives died last night. So Tsuyoshi and Arata got promoted. But that’s not important right now. What’s important is us having a damn good day for once.”

Discarding her cigarette stub on the concrete tile several stories below, Tsuyoshi brushed her hands and pulled herself on her feet, turning back to Michiko whose brow furrowed as she watched her. “Come on then.” Tsuyomi beckoned with her hand, holding it out for Michiko to take. “Let’s seize the day.”

With a cautious twitch of her lip, Michiko placed her hand in hers. Tusyomi grinned.

♤♡◇♧

Michiko had no idea what to make of this spontaneous trip. She’d been sent away from the rooftop to grab Kirika and her skateboard, and subsequently ordered to meet Tsuyomi and her brother at the main gate. 

When she had spent another sleepless night on the roof - watching the stars while waiting for the sun to rise - all she had expected was another day dragging herself with a head full of lead around the Beach. Perhaps she would’ve spent all day in the room she and Kirika had shared, escaping the eyes of other residents. 

Nothing had prepared her for spending her time out in the empty city with three other teenagers. They had found a couple of bikes stashed away, Tsuyoshi and Kirika using them whilst Tsuyomi and Michiko rode alongside each other into the central city, back towards Shibuya. The city was a little less silent with Tsuyomi screaming into the void of open air, Kirika giggling at her antics. The ghosts Michiko made friends with stayed in the shadows for once.

Always the silent observer, she watched them with an ache in her heart as they acted as carefree as the wind. If only the ghosts inside her head would cease plaguing her long enough she could throw her worries away like them. 

As the sun baked their skin, she had ducked inside a bookstore she spotted, searching the shelves for any of her favourite series. As she did, she distinguished Tsuyoshi’s figure through the gaps in the shelves.

The sunlight streamed through the windows, highlighting the floor through blocky shadows. They hit the boy's face, casting him half in flame and half in dark. He was an executive now. As was Arata. Information Chishiya would surely be interested in if he hadn’t heard already. Which he probably had.

He had the indiscernible ability of knowing everything before everyone else. And he was smug about it. Which made him even more unbearable. 

Michiko’s memory cycled through last night's conversation over and over – though it was more one sided argument than conversation. She had sauntered into his room, feeling the heavy weight of judgement follow her as she sat on the bed she had claimed. The one near the sofa. 

He had closed the door behind them, before an uncomfortable silence blanketed the space between them.

“When I said keep a low profile I didn’t mean argue back with every single militant you come across.” He eventually said, voice frustratingly calm.

“They started things. You just expect me to sit there and take it?”

“I expect you to be smart and not rise to their challenge.” 

Michiko scoffed. “Well I guess you’ve recruited the wrong person then.”

“No. I know you’re the right person for my plan.” Chishiya’s eyes fell away from her before rummaging around the ordered chaos on his desk. He picked up a glass bottle, the label unclear, before passing it to her. Michiko read the fading label. Benzydamine hydrochloride. “It’s throat medicine. Managed to pick it up on my way back from the games tonight.”

“Thanks.” Michiko mumbled, a bitter taste on her tongue. Once again, Chishiya’s one eighty flip from reprimanding to somewhat caring in his actions gave her whiplash. 

“If you’re going to have a penchant for being strangled then you should keep a supply.” He reproached.

“It’s not like I ask for it.” Michiko muttered. Chishiya raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk. “That Nobu bastard was bothering Kirika.”

“So you were defending Kirika?” Chishiya said, an almost indiscernible bitter undertone in his voice. “That was rather foolish.”

“How so?”

“The more you live in defense of others, the more you put yourself at risk. It’s simple common sense. It was how your policeman friend lived and look where that got him.”

Jaw tightening, Michiko met his gaze. “Don’t you dare bring him up. And I wasn’t going to just let him make advances on her.”

“So you put yourself at risk instead? My point remains; you’re a fool.”

“She’s my friend.” Michiko argued.

Chishiya’s voice remained unbothered by her frustration. “She’s a stranger.”

“So are you. And yet I agreed to your plan.” Michiko shot back.

The man nodded, shifting his position against the desk. “That’s because we have common goals.” 

“I want to include her in on the plan.”

“Absolutely not.”

Huffing, Michiko’s jaw-tightened. “Just what is your problem with her?” When Chsihiya remained silent, levelling her with a questioning expression, she continued. “I’m not stupid. You think I haven't noticed the disdain you look at each other with?”

“My problem doesn’t lie with her in particular.” Pushing himself away from the desk, Chishiya’s hand went to his pockets as he strolled over to the window. “There are two types of people in this world. Wolves and sheep. People like us aren’t afraid of doing what it takes to survive, casting aside any moral principle for the sake of our own lives. People like Kirika and Arata are sheep. They cling onto naivete and false hopes and one day it’ll consume them so much they will never see death coming for them.”

Turning back to her, he raised a careful eyebrow, “Are you really willing to risk your own life for someone doomed to die?”

“She’s not going to die. Not if I can help it.” Michiko claimed.

“She will. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe a few days from now. But she will die. She wasn’t built for this world and I know you can see that.”

“I can! I can see it. She doesn't know what it’s like to have to kill- to kill for the sake of your own life. I don’t even think she could ever bring herself to do that. But I can. I have. And I will continue to do it if it means I can have one good thing.” Her tirade ended, and she could feel his eyes narrow on her. Swallowing uncomfortably under his gaze, she averted her eyes to the floor. “I can’t lose her.”

“You barely know her. Yet not only would you die for her you’d kill for her too?” The judgement was discernible this time.

“I know. I know it’s only been days, but I’ve already lost someone who meant the world to me. I can’t go through it again.” Michiko spat, forcing down the tears that threatened to rise. She wondered briefly what Ichida would have to say about all of this. Would he be on her side? Would he still defend the monster she’s become?

Or would he tell her she was being idiotic, just like Chishiya was.

“Then cast her aside before it’s too late. Don’t allow yourself to go through it again.” Chishiya said. As if it were so simple. As if Kirika hadn’t already slipped through all of the minute cracks and wound herself so tightly around her soul in such an impressive amount of time.

“I think it’s already too late.” She whispered.

A long, excruciating pause - broken only by the pounding electronic music filtering in from outside. She heard Chishiya let out an amused hum. “You really are more foolish than I thought.”

“Not my fault you’re an uncaring, emotionless bastard.” Michiko muttered under her breath. But the proximity still allowed him to hear it. She glared up at him, not faltering under his challenging stare.

Huffing, Chishiya looked away, his lip quirking up slightly. “Do what you will.”

“What?” Michiko's brow furrowed.

Chishiya turned away from her, eyes going back to the window. The repetitive base from outside shook through the room. “If it’s that important to you, do what you will. But just know that if she ruins the plan in any way, I’m not afraid to throw you both under the bus. I won’t put yours or her survival above my own.”

Biting her lip, Michiko nodded reluctantly. “Fine. That’s fair.”

“But I also want you to consider something.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Would there really be any benefit in letting her know anything? Would it help her, or only put her in more danger? Think about that before you tell her anything.”

Michiko did. She spent a sleepless night under the stars mulling over his words as they whispered like phantoms in the back of her mind. On one hand she could tell Kirika everything. Could give her the hope of escaping this place, of escaping Nobutoshi’s ever predatory eyes. They could have another person on their side, gathering information, feeding it into their currently bare-boned scheme.

But bringing in the wrong person could also mean the plan falling apart. If Niragi or Nobutoshi or any of Hatter’s associates caught wind of a treasonous plot, they’d go after the weakest link in their ragtag group. To any working eye that person was Kirika. There was no pretending she wouldn’t falter under questioning.

Perhaps it was safer. To leave her in the dark. To work behind the scenes but ensure she was still included in their escape. But that didn’t feel right. Keeping secrets was grinding away at her mind and turning it into dust.

The plan needed to be successful. It was all about the plan. A plan that may soon be carried out. Tsuyoshi and Arata were now executives, which meant Chishiya was one rank away from a seat at the table. She may have to prepare herself for such a thing to happen.

But for now, she could pretend it was a normal day as she perused the bookshelves, ignoring the way Tsuyoshi’s eyes would sometimes flicker to her.

“Anything you’re looking for in particular?” Tsuyoshi piped up, his voice carrying through the gaps in the shelves.

Michiko bit at the inside of her cheek, eyes staying on the shelves, scanning the titles. “I like Greek Mythology. But the Percy Jackson books are my favourites.”

“Percy Jackson?” Tsuyoshi’s tone held confusion, “I thought those were kid’s books.”

Her gaze snapped up, narrowing at his startled gaze. She cocked her head to the side, “And?”

Tsuyoshi bit his lip nervously. “Nothing.”

Scoffing, Michiko turned back to the shelves. She didn’t know yet what to make of Tsuyoshi. He was shy and withheld. Yet wasn’t afraid to come between danger to divert Niragi and Nobutoshi’s attention away from them the night before.

Quietly brave. But also averted his eyes away from her and rubbed at the back of neck uncomfortably whenever Michiko met his gaze. She didn’t think she was that scary. Maybe her actions in previous games made him think she was a danger to him and his sister.

But she would never do anything unless they warranted it.

Sighing defeatedly, she spoke up. “What’s your favourite?”

“My favourite what?”

Michiko looked at him pointedly. “Book. What else would I be talking about?”

“Oh. Yeah right. That was stupid of me.” He shook his head. “I really like plays, actually. And biographies.”

“Plays?” Michiko raised an eyebrow.

Nodding, a grin plastered itself on Tsuyoshi’s face. “Yeah. Like Shakespeare, and Sophocles. You’ll probably like Sophocles actually. He wrote Greek Tragedies.”

“Hm. Sounds like my kind of guy then. If you see any, give me a shout.”

“I will.” He paused, biting his lip in consideration. “Have you ever read Romeo and Juliet? It’s probably my favourite of Shakespeare.”

 A snort escaped Michiko as she scrunched up her face in distaste. “You judge me for reading Percy Jackson and your favourite book is Romeo and Juliet?”

“Hey, it’s a classic. The greatest love story of all time.” Tsuyoshi defended.

“Didn’t they kill themselves over each other? And weren’t they like… our age?”

“That’s not the point! It’s meant to be tragic. Their love was so profound that it ended a countless years long feud between their families.”

“I still think they were stupid teenagers.” Michiko’s tone was full of amusement.

Leveling her with a challenging glare, Tsuyoshi cocked his head at her. “Oh yeah? Like you can you give me a better example of true love.”

“I can actually.” Michiko shrugged.

“Enlighten me then.” Tsuyoshi pushed away from the shelf he was perusing, resting himself on the end of the aisle.

Huffing in amusement, Michiko leaned against the cash register behind her. “You ever heard of Orpheus and Eurydice?”

“Can’t say I know much.”

Crossing her arms, Michiko tilts her head. “Tale goes like this. They fall in love and get married. On their wedding day, Eurydice is bit by a snake and dies. Orpheus is devastated, and, determined to get his wife back, travels to the Underworld to bargain with Hades, the god of the dead, for her life. He persuades him through song, but Hades doesn’t like being bested. So he tests Orpheus’ love for Eurydice by making them walk the way he entered the Underworld in single file. If Orpheus looks back at Eurydice, she goes back to the Underworld and Orpheus loses her forever.” She paused, allowing her words to linger. 

Tsuyoshi's brow furrowed. “And? What happened?”

Clicking her tongue, Michiko continued. “Well, Orpheus, consumed by doubt that Hades was tricking him to make him leave, looked back to make sure Eurydice followed. Just as they were about to make it out as well.”

“Why would he do that when they were so close?” 

Throwing his own words back into his face, Michiko’s lip curled. “It’s meant to be tragic.”

“But he loved her. Why would he look back and doom her?”

Shrugging, Michiko turned away from him. “Some say an Orpheus who didn’t look back is an Orpheus who didn’t love Eurydice at all.”

Tsuyoshi snorted. “That’s stupid.”

“Would you rather someone kill themselves over you or someone who loved you so much they’re willing to walk into literal hell and bargain with a god to bring you back?” Michiko asked. “I know what kind of love I’d want.” A look of quiet consideration overtook Tsuyoshi’s face.

A voice from the doorway interrupted their conversation. “If you two are done being nerds then come on. We’ve found a way up to a roof nearby.” Tsuyomi popped her head through the open door, a wide grin pulling at darkened cheeks. Her brow was sweaty, damp fringe clinging to it.

Kirika appeared next to her, a matching smile forming endearing dimples. “And we have snacks! I found so much strawberry Pocky.”

“The drinks are a bit warm. But I’m sure the soda will still be fine! Now hurry up! I wanna sunbathe!” Tsuyomi disappeared, dragging a giggling Kirika by the wrist behind her.

Michiko sighed, watching them run off. “I guess antisocial hours are over.”

A pout twisted at Tsuyoshi’s lips, before he whirled around beelining for a shelf. Taking a moment to search through it, he let out a victorious hum before pulling a book out. Striding back over, he thrust the book into Michiko’s hands. She scrambled to grab hold of it, eyes turning to the cover.

In gold lettering against a dark background, the words Romeo & Juliet stared back up at her. She looked back up at Tsuyoshi with a pointed glare. “Give it a read before you cast any judgement.”

“Fine.” Michiko sighed. “I’ll read your dumb book.” She shoved it mercilessly into her backpack, before storming past him and out the door. She could hear him trailing with a skip in his step.

She doubted she’d ever change her mind over it.

♤♡◇♧

The sky was clear. Devoid of any clouds that may cast a gloomy shadow over them. The late summer sun burned on, but the threatening chill underneath spoke of autumn soon to pass. It had been over two weeks since Michiko had found herself in this world. It was such a short time when she thought about it.

It felt longer. The way the days dragged on in her moments of anguish, she would’ve expected to have been here at least a month. But no. Seventeen days and many of them filled with her fighting for survival. Half of them witnessing death raise a heavy hand. 

Six days without Ichida. Six long days without him there to guide her through it. To tell her she was doing the right thing. She wondered how many times she may falter in the days to come if he wasn’t there to pick her back up.

A monster lay inside her, emerging when the need to kill became too strong for her human self to stomach. To make herself feel better, she liked to imagine there was a monster that lay inside them all. And that there were worse monsters than her.

A wrapper hit her in the face, pulling her out of her spiraling pondering. She looked at the culprit, finding Tsuyomi. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted a cigarette.” Tsuyomi held the carton out to her.

“Sure.” Michiko sat up, extending her hand to take one. 

She didn’t expect Tsuyomi to chuck the whole carton her way, the corner smacking her on the cheek. “Oh shit, sorry. That’s for you.”

“Thanks.” She said dryly. Pulling one from the carton, she turned, finding Kirika incredulous gaze on her. “What?”

“Those things will kill you.” She said indignantly.

Michiko shrugged, a light snort escaping her. “I think there’s things in this world that might kill me quicker.”

“That’s not the point.” Kirika urged. “It’s about principle. And they might not kill you immediately but they’ll affect your health still. Think about the games.”

“Oh lighten up princess.” Tsuyomi laughed. “Let her cope how she wants. I’m sure you have your vices.”

Kirika grumbled, biting at another strawberry pocky. Michiko sparked up the end of her cigarette with the lighter Tsuyomi held out to her.

“I’ve got one.” Tsuyoshi piped up. “Never have I ever slept through my alarm and been late for school.” He sent a pointed look over to Tsuyomi.

“It was one time!” The girl took a large gulp of her soda. “Really wish this was Vodka.”

Oh, right. Michiko had fallen out of touch with reality for a moment and forgotten about the game they were playing. Tsuyoshi had suggested it as a way of getting to know each other better. Grabbing the can of juice next to her, Michiko took her own swig. “Yeah, I kind of made a career out of that .”

“Oh, so you were rebellious.” Tsuyomi cooed.

“Yeah, because my guardian was a piece of shit.” One that I killed. She shook her head of the traitorous voice. Tried to ignore Mahiru’s accusing eyes from where she lurked in the corner of her periphery. She drew in a lungful of smoke, breathing it out. “I have one. Never have I ever broken a bone.” Avoid the issue.

“You are so lucky.” Tsuyoshi said, taking a large gulp. He turned to Tsuyomi who hadn’t touched her drink. “You take a drink right now Hamada Tsuyomi.”

“It was a fracture, it doesn’t count.” Tsuyomi defended.

“It so does.” Tsuyoshi whirled around to Michiko. “It does right?”

Michiko shrugged, taking a drag and staring pointedly at Tsuyomi. “Drink.”

“Ha.”

“Turning my own sibling against me, how cruel.” Tsuyomi shook her head, bringing the can up to her lips.

Quietly next to her, Kirika also brought her can up, the rest of the group's eyes all turning to her. She startled under the sudden attention, smiling bashfully. “My ankle when I was twelve.”

“Ouch. That must’ve sucked.” Tsuyomi said.

Taking a drag of her own cigarette, she pulled herself up onto the ledge of the roof, balancing back and forth. “Tsuyomi.” Tsuyoshi chided.

“What. I’m restless.” She took a quick drag of her cigarette. “I need to move.”

“Well, can you pace down here instead? Not on the ledge where you can fall to your death.”

“Nah. More fun this way.”

Tsuyoshi shook his head. “You’re actually going to be the death of me.” 

A snort escaped Michiko before she could stop it at the siblings’ spat, descending into a quiet giggle. Their eyes turned to her, freezing her on the spot. “Was that a laugh from miserable Michiko?” Tsuyomi asked, an impish grin emerging on her face.

“No.” She shook her head.

“It so was. Didn’t think you were capable of it.” Tsuyomi claimed.

“She is capable of it. I’ve seen it.” Kirika said, twisting her lips to fight the forming grin.

Michiko narrowed her eyes at the other girl, whispering, “Traitor.”

“What’s so funny anyway?” Tsuyoshi asked, tone laced with humour.

Clicking her tongue Michiko turned to them, feeling the weight of their expectant gazes upon her. “It just dawned on me how ridiculous this all is.”

“How so?”

Shaking her head, Michiko took a sip of her drink with a wry smile. “Here we are, stuck in a world where we’re forced to play death games to survive. And look at us now, on a rooftop playing normal games. Pretending like everything is normal. But it isn’t.” She watched their faces fall and bit her lip, cursing herself for bringing down the mood. Ever the cynic. Can never just enjoy a good thing. It always had to be her that ruined things.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Tsuyomi asked, the corner of her lip pulling up bitterly.

“Hm?”

A playful glint sparked up in the older girl's eye, and her lips twisted into a grin. “Why shouldn’t we be allowed to enjoy ourselves?” She shrugged. Craning her neck up into the sky, she continued, laying her words out onto the wind. “Whoever is up there watching us; they want us to be miserable. They want us to sit in despair while they create brand new ways to make us suffer. Well, I say fuck that!”

The sudden yell had Michiko flinching, and she looked up at the older girl in awe. Face welcomed by the sun. Jewel-like glints sparkling off her hair. Arms splayed out as if she expected the wind to pick her up and carry her into the sky’s embrace. 

“Why should my life be put on pause for those cruel fuckers? I may die tomorrow. But even if I do, I’m at least going to live today.” Lowering her head, she turned away from them, eyeing the roof of the building next to them. 

Tsuyoshi stood abruptly, hands out warningly. “Yomi.”

The girl whipped around, a devilish smirk on her face. With a speed none of them could match, she stepped off the ledge back onto the roof, took a few steps back before sprinting towards the edge yet again. Michiko's heart dropped into her stomach, and her voice joined in tandem protest with the other two as she watched Tsuyomi run. With an impressive leap, she bounded over the gap in the buildings, landing clumsily on the other side.

Standing with a victorious yell, she turned to them. “Dammit! That was awesome. Come on, you guys!”

“I’d rather not get myself killed today Yomi! You gave me a fucking heart attack.” Tsuyoshi yelled across to his sister.

“You won’t die. The gap’s easily jumpable. Come on!” Her eyes met Michiko, elated and thrilled, high on life. It stirred something deep within the pits of the misery she wore like a cloak. “Don’t let them take away what good things we have left. Prove that they haven’t broken you! Carpe fucking diem or whatever. Now jump! We could die anyway, so why not live!”

The shadow on her right fell away, and Michiko turned around, eyes landing on Kirika. The girl had stepped back, a determined expression fixing itself on her face.

“What the hell are you doing?” She asked.

Kirika’s eyes met hers, built upon firm resolve. Shoulders back, head held high, she said. “I said it before. I wanna be brave like you.” Her face tilted towards the sky, a serene smile pulling at her cheeks softly. “I want to feel free for once.” Before Michiko could stop her she took her own running start, leaping from the ledge with a laugh. That laugh rang through Michiko like a whistle through the fog.

Her feet planted on the concrete on the other side, before her legs buckled. Tsuyomi descended on her instantly, helping her to her feet. The two girls jumped up and down in exhilaration, laughing with each other in a shared moment of ecstasy.

Anxiety fluttered at Michiko’s stomach, heart aching as she watched the two girls. They laughed so brilliantly in their carefree nature. Michiko wished, once again, she could be like that.

She jolted back when a hand grazed her arm, only to find Tsuyoshi holding his hands out in surrender. As her breath calmed, Tsuyoshi offered a hand out hesitantly. Michiko looked at it, brow furrowing in suspicion.

“If you can’t beat them, join them.” The boy shrugged. “Want to do it together? Throw our worries into the wind or whatever?”

Swallowing down the vicious lump that was forming in her throat, she turned back to the girls on the other side. Across the rooftops, she met Kirika’s gaze, the girl throwing her a beckoning smile.

Kirika had claimed she wanted to be brave like Michiko. But Michiko believed it was Kirika who was the brave one. No matter how many cruelties this world threw her way, she hadn’t allowed it to change her. She kept her smile. And Michiko felt like she was looking straight into the sun every time she witnessed its brilliance.

She simply didn’t care if her last day might be tomorrow. Happiness and joy clung to her like a second-skin. Because why not live your life like there’s no tomorrow?

Rising inside her chest was an aching desire to no longer let her misery dictate her life anymore. To not let the monster in the mirror be the only thing she saw. All that remained of Michiko’s life were shreds of a ruined childhood she never got to truly live. But there was happiness there. Tiny and fragile and easily ruined. But it was there. And finally - for the first time in a long time - Michiko wanted to feel it.

She turned back to Tsuyoshi, placing her hand in his with a resolute nod. He grinned at her. An excited pit stirred in the bottom of her stomach, bubbling at the edges. Nervous laughter escaped her.

Together, they leapt over the darkened alley below. 

Becoming one with the sky.

Chapter Text

DAY 17-18

♤♡◇♧

Fate was a contemptuous idea; a scornful mistress. Something set in stone. A tempting thread demanding to be followed. Meeting destiny can be faced with a varying degree of ire. Some regarded it highly, allowed themselves to follow prophetic dreams and portentous coincidences, seeing fate as something to willfully give into. The natural order of things. 

Some defied it. Held up a middle finger to the sky and the gods who lauded over them because they would rather decide for themselves where their lives would lead. No higher power would carve their path for their own amusement.

To Michiko, fate always came in the form of three old crones in the stories her mother read.

Were those three haggard women looking down upon her with wrinkled mouths twisted into thoughtful expressions, weaving a thread full of knots where death’s scythe had shown its hand? Would they decide when her thread would be cut? Careful eyes searched for the right moment, forever a path twisted together within the confines of her own ignorance. How long would they continue to make her suffer through all these tangles caging her in a net? Bound to a destiny she couldn’t outrun; she dismayed at the idea.

On the seventeenth day of her sojourn, it appeared fate was finally granting her some reprieve. A day where her misery wasn’t rearing its ugly head.

The sun was beginning its descent. On an empty street lined by darkened doorways, four teenagers gathered around a large garbage canister. The concrete street below their feet was littered with wisps of rubbish, small sprouts of grass beginning to emerge through cracks; nature beginning to re-stake its claim.

“Has anyone got any meat? It might come out that way.” Kirika whispered back to them, crouched upon her knees to coax a shivering ball of fur out from under the garbage canister. 

“Pft,” Michiko snorted, crossing her arms as she watched the other girl, “Do we look like we’d just have some meat on hand?”

“Yoshi,” Tsuyomi slapped her brother's leg from where she knelt opposite Kirika, “Go to the nearest store and see if there’s any cat food or treats left there.”

“Why do I have to go?” 

“Because you’re scaring it with your ugly face. Now go before it runs off.” Tsuyomi waved him away.

With an indignant huff, the only boy amongst the group stormed off, heading in the direction of the convenience store they passed by earlier.

“Come on little man.” Kirika cooed, arm stretched under the dumpster to entice the cat from where it was hunched up against the wall. 

Crouching down, Michiko caught a glance of the thing. Matted fur and a sharp face. Grey, contemptuous eyes regarded them with a feral caution. Humming in amusement, she shook her head. “That thing is not gonna come out.”

“He just needs a little push. Once he sees we’re friendly he’ll come out.” Kirika nodded, determination in her tone.

“And once Yoshi comes back with something, he’ll definitely come out. I bet he’s starving.” Tsuyomi clicked her tongue, eyes fixed on the shadowed space under the dumpster.

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, hate to break it to you, but cats aren't like that. Especially strays. When they’ve spent enough time on the street they learn that everything is a threat.” Michiko said, a slight edge of bitterness lancing through her heart. She never thought she’d have so much in common with a cat.

“And when did you become such a cat expert?” Tsuyomi scoffed jokingly, head twisting around to her.

“I’m not.” Michiko said flatly. “I just know they’re wary creatures and right now, that thing sees us as big scary monsters. If anything he’ll probably bite your hand if you try to feed him.” That funny feeling was there again. A soft, melancholic ache and a tang of acid in her mouth.

As if to punctuate her words, the cat let out a soft hiss of warning. A scratchy, gravely sound that made Michiko’s throat tighten painfully. She glared the creature down, hunched on its hind legs, shoulders raised up by its ears. Beady eyes met her challenge, and she hated the way they left her stark naked; like it could see right through her. Reminiscence told her she’d seen that gaze before.

The stare off lasted for what felt like hours, Michiko refusing to allow herself to be bested by an animal. 

“I’ve got some stuff.” A voice called off to her side, footsteps running up to her. A sharp yowl escaped the cat, before he dived out from under the dumpster, darting towards the offshoot alley nearby. Collective groans of disappointment left both Kirika and Tsuyomi.

“Goddammit Yoshi.” Tsuyomi whined, berating her brother with a sharp look. She stood up, wiping away the heavy drops of sweat that formed upon her brow. “We almost had it.”

Sheepishness overshadowed the boy's face as he clutched his now useless bounty tighter. “Sorry.” He grimaced.

Turning back to Kirika, Michiko studied the girl as she stood, staring wistfully off to the alley the cat had scarpered down. Lips twisting into a disappointed frown, she shuffled back towards their group. “Maybe it's for the best.” She muttered, “Not as if we could keep a cat at the Beach.”

“Pft, of course we could. There’s no rules against it.” Tsuyomi said.

Scoffing, Michiko shook her head. “A cat would hate it there as much as I do.”

“It has its charm.”

“Yomi, you only say that because you can get high there.” Tsuyoshi said, half reproachfully.

“Something I wish I could be doing now, but someone decided to flush my stash.” The older girl grumbled, scratching at the back of her head.

“You know that was for your own good.”

“You aren’t our fucking dad Yoshi, don’t tell me what’s good for me.”

Sensing the steadily building eruption of sibling contention, Kirika interrupted, turning the attention onto her. “Why don’t we start heading back? It’s getting late.” Fixing her gaze onto Michiko expectantly, she urged her to agree.

“Right,” She said, eyes flitting between the siblings who stood glowering at each other, “We don’t want to be getting caught in the city after dark.”

“Sure.” Tsuyoshi said eventually, dragging his gaze away before he stormed off, shoulders hunching around the tins of cat food that remained in his arms. “We left the bikes and the  boards just around the corner right?”

“Right.” Kirika said, half-jogging to keep up with him. 

Michiko’s neck snapped back around to Tsuyomi, whose eyes were transfixed on the floor as she muttered incomprehensibly to herself. A shiver of unease ran through her, and the older girl looked up, catching Michiko’s wary gaze with half-empty eyes. Shaky fingers clumsily reached into her pockets, pulling out her carton of cigarettes before she shuffled off after her brother.

When Michiko made to follow, the hair on the back of her neck standing up forced her to a halt at the end of the alley. She turned to locate the source of her sudden frozen state, finding a mournful grey stare and matted fur. The cat was stopped dead, one front paw in the air as if it had been caught doing something it shouldn’t. For another moment, the two stared at each other, the cat's eyes dissolving from its feral wariness to an aching yearning. One Michiko recognised well.

Sympathy was never Michiko’s strongest suit. She could never understand how to juggle the dismayed feelings of others and muster the right words of reassurance. Just like she had never understood how to make friends and leave her defenses down when people had trodden all over her pain, stirred it up and thrust it upon her again and again. People like Mahiru. And Sasaki Keiko. Michiko could never understand people .

But cats – while they could be just as complicated – were simpler to understand. Animals displayed their contentment in affectionate action and their discontent in warning signs which Michiko found easier to read than the subtle body language of humans.

“Michiko?” She became distantly aware of Kirika calling after her. “Everything all right?”

She nodded mutely, never pulling her gaze away from the cat’s cautious stature. “Give me one of the tins.” Holding her hand out, she waited.

Feeling the curious gazes upon her, the silent questioning the other three held between themselves, she bit her lip. But she feared if she looked away, the cat would be gone for good. When she felt the tin placed in her hand, she crouched down, keeping her movement slow and steady.

“What are you-” 

“Ssh.” She interrupted Tsuyomi’s question, pulling the lid back and holding the tin out as a hesitant olive branch.

The cat stepped forward, beguiled by the temptation of food. Longing filled its eyes but the well-guarded wall in place held it back from surging forward to eat. Clicking her tongue, Michiko held the tin out further. There was an ache in her chest as she watched the cat. Those defenses prevented it from giving in to its hungry urges. Even the soft stroke of kindness couldn’t reach beyond them.

But if there was one thing Michiko learned, it was that kindness was persistent. It found a way past. Placing the tin down upon the concrete, she shuffled back a couple of steps, sitting upon her heels. The cat stalked forwards, eyes flitting between her and the food. Once it reached the tin, it took a sniff, before jerking back, eyes flitting back to Michiko. Cautiously, she held a hand out, watching in anxious anticipation as the cat studied it, neck craning forward to sniff at her fingers. When it butted its head against her finger tips, she almost laughed – letting out a small breath instead to not scare it away.

Feeling sufficiently unthreatened, the cat bowed its head and began chomping noisily at the food. Relief sagged at its shoulders.

Turning her head, she met the others’ gazes, who watched on in amazed silence. The smile on Kirika’s face made her actions worth it.

♤♡◇♧

Patience had never been Michiko’s strongest virtue. An inability to sit still or allow her mind to rest had led to an impatient nature; where small annoyances could grate on her nerves until she snapped. The addition of a feline companion – snuck with difficulty through the throngs of the partying crowd outside – to her space became an irritant.

“Would you get off, you stupid animal.” She muttered when the creature attempted to burrow itself into the duvet flung over her crossed legs.

With hesitant hands she half-heartedly tossed the animal off, towards the other end of her bed. It blinked up at her – almost pleading to be allowed into the warm pocket of space. Her head snapped up to Kirika, whose figure hung by the window, to beseech her into taking the cat into her own hands. She was the one who wanted to bring it back after all.

Her mouth stopped before the words formed. The expression in Kirika’s eyes was almost listless. Dull. She stared up at the sky, lacking the usual warm spark that rivalled the energy of the sun. It caught Michiko off guard for a moment.

Kirika was so good at hiding behind her smile. But since the night of the Toxin game, that mask had cracked. Not quite shattered. But enough space had formed for Michiko to finally see that underneath her consistent optimism, there was a lost and lonely soul. 

The question left her before she could stop it. “Why do you always look up at the stars?”

Something snapped back into Kirika’s gaze. Not the fire that was usually held, but something more melancholic. As if she didn’t register the question at first, she turned towards Michiko with a questioning hum.

Michiko swallowed. “The stars. You’re always looking at them.”

A shallow smile flickered onto Kirika’s lips. Pensive. Full of mourning. Biting her lips, her eyes returned to the window. “They’re so much more brighter now that the city’s dark. It makes you wonder how something good can come out of something so bad?”

“You’re asking me of all people how that can happen? I thought you were the one full of hope.” 

An unreadable expression darkened over Kirika’s features. Only for a split second before she turned back, the tight-lipped smile widening. “I guess you’re right. I am always looking for the good in things.” She bit her lip, stepping over to perch on the end of Michiko’s bed. Holding her hand out, she allowed the cat to sniff at her fingers, before he brushed his head against her hand. A huff of laughter escaped her. “This world is so broken. Cruel. Our lives seem so short right now. But whether we die today or tomorrow, Tsuyomi was right. We should at least live without regret.”

Bored of Kirika’s touch, the cat sauntered back over to Michiko, making another attempt to burrow into the space between her legs. She scoffed, but allowed it to settle. She was too exhausted to push it away.

“Sota loved the stars.” Kirika said. Michiko turned her attention back to her, noticing the way her eyes became wistful. Looking to a place beyond their current present. When she noticed Michiko’s questioning stare she continued. “Oh, right. I never told you his name, did I? My best friend, the one who– who killed himself.” She paused, eyes fixing on the floor. 

In Michiko’s lap, the cat began purring, the vibration ricocheting down Michiko’s legs. 

“He was my only friend. My parents are very traditional. I was molded to be a perfect, dutiful daughter, never allowed to express my own emotion or opinion because that wasn’t the standard of perfection my mother expected. Sota– he was the only person who ever saw through that mask. For the first time in my life I was allowed to be myself whenever I was with him.” Blinking, she rubbed at her eyes, removing the stray tears that had begun to fall. 

Michiko’s heart clenched at the sight. Seeing Kirika cry felt purely, utterly wrong. “He must’ve been a very nice person.”

“He was.” Kirika nodded, voice breaking slightly. “He truly was the most open soul I’ve ever met. I could never figure out why he did what he did, he always seemed so happy. The pressure of our lives must’ve gotten to him… The expectations. The system we were trapped in.” Voice cracking, she stopped. Michiko looked down, eyes finding the hand that was splayed across the duvet.

Hesitantly, she reached out. Shaky fingers met the warm skin of the top of Kirika’s hand, before curling around them. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, meeting the other girl's wide eyes. Words of comfort had always failed, but she allowed the gesture to speak what she couldn’t.

Kirika’s lip quivered. “We used to always go out and watch the stars. Just to escape for a while. One time he said something funny. That he hoped he’d become a star when he died. I thought it strange, but now he’s gone I always find myself looking up at them for some sign. That he’d send some signal to me that he’s happy up there.” She paused. “I think I figured it out after being in this world. Seeing the stars every night… He just wanted to be free.” She shook her head, as if to pull herself from her thoughts. “Sorry, you didn’t need to hear all of that.”

But Michiko did. Because with every little piece Kirika let go, it allowed her to understand her pain. By understanding Kirika’s grief, it allowed her to understand her own in a way. Looking down, she found the gaze of the cat and almost laughed at the imploring look in its eyes. Almost encouraging.

“When– after my mum was murdered, all I knew was anger. No one ever bothered to help me understand my grief, how to handle it. I lived with so much rage for so long it was all I ever knew.” Her voice was soft, shaky. Michiko had never confided so much in any one person before. Because her fury was all people ever saw. “I spent so long lashing out. At everything. Ichida. Mahiru. The entire world because why was it cruel enough to take her away from me?”

“What–” Kirika began, stopping for a second before continuing. “If you don’t mind me asking… what happened to your dad after?”

Michiko looked up, catching her eyes. Curiosity but also apprehensiveness lived inside Kirika’s gaze. Michiko had been running from her past and her identity for the last five years. But with this girl in front of her… it was time to stop. “He was thrown in jail.” She still couldn’t quite admit the full story. But the indication in her words was enough to send a wave of understanding across Kirika’s expression.

“Shit.” She said, “That’s– That’s horrible . I’m so sorry.”

Looking away, Michiko swallowed. “I could never outrun what he did. Everywhere I went people eventually found out. Every single time I was ostracized. The daughter of a murderer. They expected me to turn out the same way.” Stomach churning, the acidic tang of bile in her throat, she looked up. They were all surrounding her. The ghosts that lived both inside and outside her mind. “And look at me now. I have.”

“No.” Kirika turned her hand over, squeezing her fingers around Michiko’s – who had forgotten about their hands being joined in the first place. The touch felt that natural. “Just because he did something so horrible that doesn’t make you a monster either.”

“I’ve killed people. I’m a murderer just like him.”

“Just shut up.” Kirika’s sharp tone caught her off guard. “This world is different from our own. People have become cruel because there’s no rules. You’ve only done what you had to to survive.” The heavy weight of Mahiru’s accusing glare said otherwise. “You’ve done what’s needed in this place. And I think that’s incredibly brave.”

“Why don’t you see what everyone else sees?” She asked.

“Because you saved my life. That man in the six of hearts would’ve killed me otherwise. You could’ve walked away, saved yourself. I wouldn’t have blamed you either, we hardly knew each other.” Kirika clutched her hand tighter. “That’s why I know you’re different from people like Niragi and Nobutoshi. They kill because they like it. You’ve only ever killed out of necessity.”

“You’re wrong.” Michiko’s voice cracked. 

“I’m not, you–.”

“You are .” Michiko pulled away from the ghosts, back to the living, breathing person in front of her. Kirika stared back at her, mouth hung open from being interrupted. The acid in her throat became stronger and she swallowed it down. “The game after we came to the Beach– It was another hearts game. The woman who took me in after my mother’s death… she was there. And I was so angry after Ichida– and she said such horrible things and I knew they were true because it was part of the game. She said she wished it was me that died and not my mum–” She sucked a heavy breath as her heart rate picked up, choking on her words as they spilled like self-inflicted poison from her lips. “The game said she told the truth and my mind just blanked. And then the knife was in her throat and she was choking on her own blood—”

“Stop.” Kirika’s hand was on her shoulder. The warmth of it seeped through her shoulder and it was only then that she felt the tears trailing down her face. It was an unrecognisable sensation. “If she said such a horrible thing… then she deserved it.”

“No– she didn’t deserve to die–”

“She would’ve probably done the same if she had the chance.” Kirika’s words stilled her racing thoughts. “If she wished you dead she would’ve had no qualms about killing you herself— you stopped her from getting that opportunity by doing it first. It was necessary.” The hardened expression on the other girl's face was unreadable. But when it softened into a comforting, gentle smile, Michiko’s shoulder relaxed, giving into the warmth of Kirika’s touch. “You are no monster. We’re just kids trying to survive in a world that’s become far too unkind. And it seems like it’s never been kind to either of us. In this world and the real one.”

Kirika pulled back, hand still resting on Michiko’s shoulder and the other still clutching tightly at her hand. “But it isn’t all bad, is it? There’s some good isn’t there? Because I got to meet you. And I really hope you feel that meeting me was a good thing too.”

“I do.” Michiko whispered, heart pounding so deeply inside her chest she feared Kirika could feel it through the thick hoodie covering her shoulder. 

“Then we hold onto the good things. Because that’s the only way we can live.” An indignant meow startled them both, two sets of eyes turning down to the cat nestled in Michiko’s lap. He looked up at her, wide-eyed and accusatory, before he rubbed his head against her knee. “See, even he agrees.”

Despite the heaviness in the air – made thick from long withheld confessions that had never before reached other ears – the girl’s laughed. Michiko’s mind rang with a clarity she had scarcely felt before. 

“We need to name him.” Kirika said.

Michiko sniffed. “You were the one who wanted him, you name him.” 

“Fine, if you insist.” A thoughtful expression came over her face, before a spark shot through her eyes. “I know. How about Chichi? ”

When that name slipped past Kirika’s lips, a pain that ached so torturously sliced through Michiko’s heart.

Come on Chichi, or you’ll be late for school.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe and with wide eyes she stared at Kirika with a staggering expression. The other girl’s brow furrowed upon seeing the startled look. “Is– is there something wrong with that? I just thought after you know– Mr. Ichida. Ichi seemed too simple. I thought Chichi sounded nicer.”

Michiko swallowed down the bile threatening to rise in her throat, before looking down at the cat who had settled down to sleep. Forcing herself to shake her head, she found Kirika’s gaze again. “No– No, Chichi… it’s perfect.”

Sleepless nights had become the normal reality of their new world. Michiko had experienced far too many in the days she’d spent here. But that night, with the air between them far too fragile to allow any distance, the two girl’s lay in the same bed, basking in the warmth that lay inches away. The world had taken from them both; fate ripping their reality to shreds. But defying fate was Michiko’s favourite activity. Those three crones watching her from far away would not cut her string. Not until she was ready. She would live as long as she could. With Kirika by her side.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting irritating shards across her face as she blinked awake the next morning. Rubbing at her eyes, she pushed herself up, finding the meagre space next to her empty. The rest of the room was silent, the only sound streaming in the incessant thumping of music outside. A bundle of grey fur lay curled on the other bed, but there was still no sign of Kirika.

Immediate anxiety shot through the remaining fog of sleep. Taking a chance to look around the room, her eyes landed on a slip of paper laying conspicuously on the bedside table. Picking it up, she scanned the characters written upon it. 

Gone to get us some breakfast, just in case you wake up before I’m back.

Relief flooded through her. Sinking back into the bed, she let go of the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. Kirika had just gone to get food. Nothing to worry about. Apart from them being in a hotel where danger lurked around every corner and its authority did not care about the violence bestowed upon its residents. Anything could happen if she let her guard down. And Kirika could be unguarded at times– her optimism often blinding her.

Michiko wishes her mind could just shut off. Kirika would be fine. If she didn’t return in the next half hour, she would go out and look for her. 

Twisting her neck back towards the bedside table, her eyes caught onto the two books stacked upon it. Her copy of The Iliad, the words on its weathered pages recognisable by memory. And on top of it, a pristine paperback. Gold lettering on a dark background. Romeo & Juliet . Huffing, she leaned over and picked it up, appraising the cover with narrowed eyes. She did tell Tsuyoshi she’d give it a chance. But she couldn’t picture herself being riveted by the story of two dumb teenagers killing themselves in the name of ‘love’.

She might as well occupy her mind. Flipping it open, she read the first lines.

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

The language was poetic, reminding her of some of the passages in The Iliad. She could not lie and say she didn’t enjoy that. But it was further lines in the prologue that struck her.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,