Transcendency: Chapter 9
Title: Transcendency
Pairing: OT5, Matsumiya
Genre: AU, Angst, Dark Fantasy
Disclaimer: Plot is mine, Arashi is not. Unfortunately.
Summary: Down the rabbit hole they fell.
Author's Note: Happy Birthday Nino! And what better way to celebrate than with a special game for our beloved gamer.
Silence reigned when they left the zoo that evening. Their plans to head back to the hotel were thrown for a loop by Ohno’s extensive injuries. Realising the first-aid supplies and skills at their disposal would be nowhere near enough, they discarded any notion of rest and embarked on what they were certain would be a wild goose chase to get their friend the medical help he needed. What should have only been about ten minutes on foot to the nearest hospital turned into a seemingly never-ending trek haunted by Aiba’s grief, Ohno’s agony and desperation from all five of them.
Aiba stopped crying at some point during the journey but had not said a word since the game; he hadn’t even looked at any of them. He just walked alongside them, his feet dragging, his face painted with the same devastation that he’d worn since pulling the trigger. His eyes were glassy and tear tracks continued to stain his cheeks. After winning the game, his friends tried to give him as much time as they could to process what happened. But when the time came to leave, Aiba refused to move. Sho had needed to physically pull him away from the tiger’s corpse; he supported him the whole way to the hospital and remained by his side even after they arrived, trying his best to get him to open up, to no avail.
Stepping through the already broken glass of the automatic door, Nino and Jun helped Ohno through with great care. His face was twisted in agony like they’d never seen, his blood-soaked hand clutching the open wounds along his shoulder. His legs were shaking and he could no longer bear the pain of another step. Jun lowered him down into one of the chairs in the waiting area and did his best to tend to him. Sho did the same for Aiba, his anxious gaze shifting back and forth between the two of them. Leaving the broken pieces of his friends in the waiting room, Nino scouted every inch of the hospital. Medical records and x-rays were scattered across the floor; there were old casts, shoes, and even photos lying discarded in the empty rooms, almost as if the hospital had been abandoned in a haste. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for; his medical knowledge was limited at best but he prayed he would know it if and when he came across it. However, his hopes of miraculously stumbling upon the right supplies that would help his friend were dashed when he instead came across a container of foul sludge that he could only assume used to be medicine of some sort. Gagging at the smell, his heart sunk to realise that not even medication was immune to the cruelty of time in this place.
He had just reached the second floor when he heard a noise from one of the nearby rooms. Ignoring his instincts to take caution, he ran towards the source, throwing the third door on the left open. It was an examination room. A shadow flickered behind the curtain on the other side of the room. He pulled it back, startling slightly when he saw the woman on the chair behind it. She looked exhausted. Her hair was in tangles and she had deep bags under her eyes, while the glass in her hand was closer to empty than it was full. But she was dressed in a white coat and a stethoscope hung around her neck. There was a name badge clipped to the front of her coat that read, Koike Eiko, Neurosurgeon.
“You’re a doctor,” he exclaimed.
The woman squinted up at him, her face screwing up almost as if he had put her under a spotlight. She groaned softly and rubbed her temple.
“I was.” Her voice was dry and she sounded half asleep, but still Nino refused to be disheartened.
He grabbed her arm and attempted to pull her up. She shrugged him off.
“I need your help,” he pleaded. “Please, my friend was attacked by a tiger in our last game.”
While urgency laced his every word, Koike was unfazed by his panic. She leaned back, chuckling softly under her breath.
“You know the world’s gone mad when a sentence like that makes sense.”
Her amusement enraged Nino. “He’s bleeding and in a lot of pain,” he snarled. “We don’t know what to do!”
“I suggest you put him out of his misery.” She spun in her chair, making a sweeping gesture at the scalpels, forceps and other surgical equipment on the shelves and floor around them. “Take your pick.”
Nino seethed at her callous suggestion. “Does a person’s life mean so little to you? How can you call yourself a doctor?”
Koike turned sharply. Her eyes cleared and she seemed to snap her back to her senses, enough to retaliate to his accusation.
“I’ve dedicated more than half my life to helping people, and saved more lives than you could imagine,” she snapped. “The night I arrived here, I was called in to help with the casualties of a major traffic accident. I wasn’t even supposed to be on call, but I still came. This is what I arrived to.”
She threw her arm out in emphasis of the mess around her. The room, like the rest of the hospital, was in disarray, much the same as the rest of the city.
“Even if I wanted to help, look around you,” the doctor went on, her tone scathing yet disparaging. “Nothing works anymore. I can’t help anyone.”
Nino shook his head. “Just because the machines are useless doesn’t mean you are. You’re still a doctor, aren’t you?”
The woman didn’t say anything at first. After a moment, she lifted herself from her chair and walked towards him. Nino felt a flicker of hope in his heart, but it shattered when she placed a scalpel in his hand. She held his gaze, her expression drowning in hopelessness, before she turned away once more. She grabbed her drink and pushed her way past him, disappearing down the dim hallway in the opposite direction of the stairs.
Nino stared after her. He teetered in her direction before swearing under his breath and spinning on his heel to race back to the waiting room. When he returned, he found a still shaken Jun preliminarily tending to Ohno’s wounds. Ohno winced at the sting of the antiseptic. His whole left side was shaking. A pain like never before seethed through the muscles from his neck, down his arm and all the way to his waist. Even his legs were quivering. Jun winced sympathetically and mumbled another apology as he flushed the wound with some water. They looked up when Nino re-emerged from the shadows.
“Well?”
A lump formed in Nino’s throat when he saw the hope in their eyes, as if waiting for him to tell them the news that he’d found the miracle that would end Ohno’s suffering. Nino forced himself to push past the guilt. Coming forward, he aided Jun in the care of their friend.
“I found a doctor,” he told them honestly. “But she was as much a mess as the rest of this place.”
It broke his heart to see Ohno’s face contorted in lasting agony, but even more so as that tiny flicker of hope in his eyes faded away.
“I’ll try not to take that personally, shall I?”
Recognising the voice, Nino whipped around in shock. He watched, his jaw dropping when the doctor emerged from the shadows. As she stepped into the moonlight, he saw that her stethoscope was no longer crooked and she was holding a small medical bag.
“You came back.” Nino couldn’t hide the surprise from his voice.
Koike crouched down beside him in front of Ohno. She met his gaze for a second time that night, only this time there was a sincerity that had been missing previously.
“I swore an oath to help people,” she murmured, sounding more like she was talking to herself than anything else. “Just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean I won’t honour it.”
She turned her attention to Ohno and examined the scratches marking up his bare shoulders. While the claws had been fortunate enough to miss any arteries and did not go deep enough to graze the bone, the damage to the muscle was quite severe. There were four deep lacerations over his left posterior scapular. For what it was worth, they all knew it could have and probably should have been a lot worse.
“A tiger did this, you said?”
The boys nodded. When Aiba whimpered softly, Sho wrapped an arm around him and continued his futile efforts to comfort the other man.
“What’s wrong with him?” Koike asked.
“It’s a long story,” Nino replied.
The doctor clicked her tongue and glanced at Ohno. “You should consider yourself lucky. Gangrene would be all but guaranteed if this was a bite. Even with only scratches, you’re hardly in the clear in terms of infection. It’ll be extremely difficult to keep clean under these conditions and given the depth of the lacerations, we could be looking at nerve damage.”
“You will be able to help him though, right?” Jun asked.
“I’ll do what I can.”
She reached into her bag and retrieved a bottle of saline, as well as some gauze, a surgical needle and thread. Handing Nino a torch, she instructed him to keep the light on Ohno’s shoulder and hold it steady. She spent the first fifteen minutes flushing out the gashes with the saline. Once it was sterilised, she numbed the area with three injections of anaesthesia around the wounded area. Nino flinched more than Ohno did when he saw the needle piece his shoulder. His friends could barely stand to watch as she pulled the flaps of open skin towards one another, binding them precisely with each suture. After completing the first row of stitches, she pressed a piece of clean gauze on the wound to reclean it. Ohno started to grow restless after a while as the anaesthesia wore off. His face screwed up in discomfort and he held his injured arm with a soft groan.
“Almost done,” Koike assured him, tying off another suture. There were at least eighteen already. “This would be a lot easier if we weren’t in the dark.”
Hearing her disgruntled mutter, Nino refocused the torchlight on the last untended section of the injury. He held his arm perfectly steady until he saw the final stitch be completed.
“There, that should do it,” the doctor said. She then retrieved another syringe from her bag. “This is a shot of morphine to help with the pain.”
Ohno winced slightly when she injected the painkiller into his muscle but before long, the drug began to take effect and the worst of his agony ebbed away, leaving him with a dull throb in his arm and an overall feeling of exhaustion. Fitting his arm with a sling, Koike stood and faced the five boys. Her gaze lingered on Nino.
“That’s the best I can do for him.”
Nino bowed his head in sincerest gratitude. One look at Ohno was enough to assure him of the immense assistance she had been to him. The boys thanked her for her help and watched her walk away. Helping the slightly out-of-it Ohno to his feet, they made their way from the hospital as the sun broke the horizon.
But while Ohno’s injuries may have been tended to, the friends knew their troubles were far from over. Upon returning to the hotel, Aiba pushed Sho away completely and retreated to his room in perfect, concerning silence. The others took it in turns to check on him throughout the day but for the most part, their efforts were in vain. As much as it pained them to leave him to grieve in isolation, they knew there was nothing they could do or say to help right now. The rest of them weren’t faring much better. Despite being physically and mentally exhausted from all that happened, little rest was achieved. Sho, Nino and Jun had their hands full tending to their wounded companions throughout the day.
“How are you feeling?” Jun asked as he readjusted Ohno’s pillow later that afternoon.
Looking him once over gave him his answer. The morphine was clearly wearing off as the hours dragged on. His once atypical talent of sleeping anywhere no matter the circumstances had been robbed of him as he lay tossing and turning, trying to find even a semi-comfortable position. He wouldn’t meet Jun’s gaze either. His expression was more complicated than the younger was used to seeing, a wistful reflection glimmering in his usually gentle eyes.
“I’m really sorry,” Jun murmured, his every word laced with the immense guilt bearing down on him.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Ohno’s voice was monotone, offering nothing but hollow assurance that he was okay with how things played out in last night’s game.
Jun bit his lip, unsure what else to say. His gaze lingered on the line of sutures along his friend’s shoulder blade. While Koike-sensei did a good job at stitching him up, there was no denying the damage.
“You didn’t have to do that for me,” Jun tried to say.
“If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here,” Ohno replied bluntly.
“Y-You’re right.” Jun bowed his head bashfully. “Thank you.”
Ohno stared at him for a moment before turning onto his right side. Whether Jun was trying to make him feel better or assuage his own guilt made no difference to him. He was in no mood to chat. He was in a lot of pain and the last thing he wanted was to think about what had caused it. When Jun offered him some painkillers, he swallowed them with neither water nor words, knowing they were unlikely to make so much as a dent in the agony he was experiencing. It felt like his arm was on fire.
Reading his silence as a direct response to not wanting him there while he rested, Jun respected his wish and left the room soon after, ignoring the ache in his heart as he did. He wandered the empty corridors aimlessly. Thoughts of returning to his own room conjured up feelings of an even worse isolation, the likes of which he wasn’t sure he could handle at the moment. Deciding to check on Aiba, he made his way to his friend’s residence down the hall. He knocked quietly. There was no response, not that he really expected one. Excusing his intrusion, he opened the door to a sliver. He paused in the entrance when he saw his friend lying perfectly still on the bed. He was facing the opposite wall but though he couldn’t see his face, Jun knew with full certainty that he was awake.
“Aiba-kun?” he called softly. Again, silence was his only answer. “I just wanted to check you were okay after…”
He winced as the images replayed in his mind. It was not the vision of the dead tiger that wrenched his heart, but the anguish on Aiba’s face when he realised he was the one responsible. The words nearly caught in Jun’s throat when he went on.
“You have to know that none of us wanted it to end like that, and I certainly never meant for you or Ohno-kun to get hurt.”
Still, Aiba was silent. Jun studied his form for any unspoken sign that he might be listening-a sniffle, a shrug of his shoulders, a hitch in his breathing. He was left disappointed.
“Please speak to me,” he pleaded, his voice tiny. “If you want to blame me for what happened, I’ll understand. Yell at me if you have to, just say something, anything. Please.”
He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised when the quiet reigned on, broken only by the catch in his own throat. In the course of one night, one moment, it felt like he had managed to break not one but two of his friends. He stared at Aiba’s back with devastation painted across his face, something he knew the other would not see. Taking his continued silence as a clear sign that he was not welcome in the company of this friend either, he retreated from the room with one final whispered apology.
Only after the door closed with a soft click did Aiba finally move. He struggled to lift his head, doing so just high enough to glance over his shoulder. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were stained with salty tracks he had no intention of wiping away. But despite the evidence of his grief, his expression was unreadable as he stared at the door. It was only for a couple of seconds before his head dropped back to the pillows.
Exiled to the hallway once more, Jun stiffened in a mix of anxiety and anticipation when he saw Sho walking towards him. His heart sunk when the other man passed by and disappeared into Aiba’s room without a word of acknowledgment to him. Unable to bring himself to go anywhere else, Jun sighed and leant against the wall. His back slid slowly to the ground. Dragging his knees to his chest, he held his head in his hands. The final round of their game kept replaying no matter how many times he tried to forget it. The memory of himself tripping, the scream of his friend ringing in his ears, the rumble of the gunshot that had destroyed both their final beast and Aiba’s heart-he wanted to take it all back so badly.
“Jun-kun?”
He lifted his gaze a little when he heard Nino’s voice above him.
“I screwed up,” he murmured, not looking up at his friend. “They won’t even talk to me.”
Nino stared at him sympathetically. He fought to find the right words but found none. He was exhausted after spending his time that day equally between his other friends as he tried his hardest to repair the damage done. He’d cleaned and redressed Ohno’s wounds; he distracted Sho with improvements for their generator, and comforted Aiba for hours on end. As the sun went down, he wanted nothing more than to retire to his own room and get some long overdue sleep but discovering Jun alone in the hallway, looking almost as broken as Aiba, made him realise his work was not done for the day.
He extended a hand to the younger. “Come on.”
Jun looked to him in confusion as he was pulled to his feet. Nino didn’t let go of his hand, instead dragging him behind him as they made their way through the hallway, down the stairs to the lobby.
“Where are we going?”
“Out,” Nino replied vaguely. Deciding it was best to get his friend away from the confines of the hotel before he overthought himself to death, he less insisted Jun join him on an evening walk than he did forced him.
“You want to go outside?” Jun didn’t bother trying to hide his disbelief.
It was the first time all day that Nino had seen even a hint of a smile on his face, so he pushed aside whatever snarky reply he wanted to give and nodded. “It’s been a long 24 hours. I need to clear my head and so do you.”
Although Jun didn’t look convinced that he was telling the whole truth, he decided to tag along regardless. They had just about reached the front entrance when Nino sensed something was amiss. His steps halted, his anxious gaze scanning ahead of them.
“Don’t move!” The urgency of his tone brought Jun to an immediate stop.
Nino came forward carefully. He stretched his arm out and gently pushed Jun back from the doors, his wide gaze fixed on something unseen. The tiniest flicker of red in his peripheral vision confirmed his fears.
“Give me your necklace,” he whispered. When the younger questioned him, his tone became desperate. “Just do it!”
Jun unhooked the silver chain and handed it to him. He looked on tensely when Nino tossed it ahead of them. It immediately fell out of the air with a sizzle as it struck the invisible grid. Both boys startled and stared at the brand-new scorch mark that stained the metal.
“Don’t tell me…” Jun breathed.
They ran to the window, gazing out into the night. Fleeting sparks ricocheted all around the building, bringing with it a sinking feeling in both their hearts. Nino swallowed and glanced over his shoulder. The monitor in reception switched on with a familiar and dreaded announcement.
THE GAME WILL COMMENCE IN A MOMENT. ALL PLAYERS PLEASE GATHER IN RECEPTION.
The same message appeared on the television screens in both Ohno and Aiba’s rooms, alerting the others to their alarming new circumstances. It didn’t take them long to rush down to the lobby.
“Our hotel is a game arena?” Sho said in disbelief.
“This can’t be happening,” Aiba exclaimed.
“Difficulty,” the AI voice sounded through the monitor. “Five of hearts.”
Jun’s eyes widened. “A heart game?”
Nino felt like he couldn’t breathe. His friends were already in tatters after the events of their last game; he wasn’t sure they would be able to survive another one so soon. He remembered what the hearts suit represented and thought they were fortunate enough to avoid playing any such game so far. Now they were not only forced to play one, but they had been thrown into an arena with no warning or intention. It felt like the game master was toying with them.
PLEASE WEAR THE COLLARS AND PROCEED INTO THE ELEVATOR.
Beneath the on-screen command appeared a ninety second countdown. The elevator behind them suddenly opened. Inside was a small table with five identical phones, as well as metal contraptions that looked concerningly like shock collars.
With the seconds ticking down, they had no choice but to do as they were told. They hesitantly attached the collars around their necks; snug yet with enough room left to breathe, the devices self-locked. Even without knowing what they were playing, the condition of wearing the sinister collars was enough to make them all hyperventilate. The elevator began to move, going up to the fifteenth floor.
“The game will now commence,” their phones said when the doors opened. “Each player please enter a room of your choice.”
It was with much reluctance that they left the elevator and stepped up to an unknown door. Nino wasn’t even surprised when the doors unlocked themselves without the need of a key. His gaze moved over the terrified faces of his friends.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “We’ve got this.”
With the echo of his weak words of reassurance, the doors closed behind each of them. Alone in their rooms, the televisions switched on in perfect synchronisation.
“Game: Life Lessons.”
Nino narrowed his eyes on the TV. The screen was divided into five sections; at the top of each column was a cartoon head that bore uncanny resemblance to him and his friends. It was like looking at video game avatars of themselves. Underneath each head was a tally of three.
“Players are given three lives and will take it in turns to undertake trivial tasks based on majority votes. Each round will end once all players have completed their challenge, upon which the doors will unlock and they may move to the next room. When a player fails a task, they must select another player to lose a life. Their chosen player’s collar will deliver an electric shock. If a player loses all three lives, their collar will explode. The game ends after players have completed five challenges each.”
Nino’s eyes widened as the rules were explained. He trusted his friends dearly but in a game where they would be forced to hurt each other, and worse still prioritise who they hurt and who they spared, it was like entering a special kind of hell.
“Round one, start.” The border around Nino’s avatar highlighted yellow. “Ninomiya Kazunari’s challenge.”
Doing his best to ignore the way his heart launched into his throat, Nino watched the monitor for his first question. Four pictures popped up; they were illustrated drawings of famous buildings from around the region. He cringed even before the question was announced.
“With an 85% success rate among pedestrians, please arrange the four towers by height.”
Nino ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself as he wracked his brain for the necessary information. He immediately knew that Tokyo sky-tree was the tallest, followed by Tokyo tower. The real trouble came with the order of the last two. The buildings might be well-known but it had been years since he was within the vicinity of either one. He compared the height of the illustrations as if hoping they would give something away. It was fruitless effort, however, as all were drawn to identical scale. After attempting some mental simulation, he decided to go with his hunch. He reached for his phone and dragged each of the photos into the correct order.
“Tokyo sky-tree,” he whispered to himself as he checked his answer with forty seconds remaining. “Tokyo tower, Yokohama landmark, Midtown tower.”
He tapped the submit button and shut his eyes, awaiting the moment when his success or failure was declared. A loading spiral appeared on his phone screen as his answer was processed. After a moment, a bell sounded, followed by a success caption on the TV. Relief washed over him immediately and he threw his arms up in a guts pose.
But while he was delighted that his first round was a triumph, he knew things were far from over. He turned his attention back to the screen when Sho’s banner highlighted red. To Nino’s surprise, footage of his friend’s room popped up. It revealed him standing near the bed; there was a room service cart behind him.
“With a 90% success rate among salarymen, correctly identify the dish in front of you.”
Sho looked to the cart and lifted the cloche. There was a small fillet of fish on the plate. He spent a few seconds debating whether the rules permitted him to taste it before picking up the fork. He hummed to himself as he recognised the flavours. With little hesitation, he grabbed his phone and prepared to answer with ample time remaining.
“The dish is codfish, Saikyoyaki style.”
He did not appear even slightly surprised when his success was declared. As he went to take another bite of the dish, the footage switched to Aiba’s room.
“With a 92% success rate among gym attendees, identify where the triceps are on the human body.”
Aiba looked hesitant as he considered the question. He hugged himself, his hands sliding up and down his arms while his expression became increasingly confused. Every time he questioned himself, his brows would knit together and he tilted his head in doubt. Time was running out by the time he readied himself to answer. Deciding to chance it with his original location, he grasped the muscle at the back of his upper arm, just beneath the shoulder bone.
“Here?” It sounded more like he was asking than answering, but still he received his reward.
Nino grinned proudly. He was grateful he hadn’t entered that room as the location he was thinking was not even remotely close to what Aiba chose.
Ohno was next. Despite his arm being in a sling, he looked surprisingly calm as he sat waiting for his question.
“With a 71% success rate among high school students, the proverb ‘give an iron rod to an oni’ means to make something strong even stronger. Complete the proverb of the same meaning, to ‘give ___ to a tiger’.”
Ohno’s face screwed up. He cradled his arm, uncomfortable at the reminder. Watching him, Nino couldn’t help wondering if it was coincidence or the game master’s twisted sense of humour. Perhaps it was their direct intent to play on his friend’s recent trauma in the hopes of getting him to slip up. But while that may have been the purpose behind the choice of question, Ohno remained astonishingly composed.
“They don’t really need anything, they’re strong enough,” he muttered under his breath. He thought about it for a while, unfazed by the two-minute countdown. He was within the last thirty seconds when he answered. “Give horns to a tiger.”
The bell of success was music to all their ears. The smile on Nino’s face fell, however, when the footage changed to Jun’s room. His heart ached to see how nervous his friend appeared. There was a square of coloured paper sitting in front of him.
“With an 82% success rate among parents of young children, fold an origami crane within three minutes.”
Jun hesitantly picked up the paper. He made the first six or seven folds confidently, albeit slowly. As soon as Nino saw the doubt flicker across his expression, he knew they were all in trouble. His fingers played with the ends of the paper, confusion painted on his face as he questioned whether he had done it right. Much to his friends’ distress, he undid his last fold. He redid it only a few seconds later but their hopes that he was back on track was thwarted when they saw him fold the top layer of the square upwards instead of inwards. Nino prayed that he was the one who was wrong-after all, it had been a long time since he did origami as well. But as the minutes went on, his hopes were dashed. Despite being isolated from the others, Nino was certain they would be as disheartened. Even if they hadn’t any certainty in the steps themselves, they could tell from the final product that it was a failure. The last ten seconds counted down and Jun frantically tried to fix the mess that had become of the paper, but it was too late. A buzzer-noise sounded in place of the bell as failure was declared. Jun looked at the screen in dismay when every column but his lit up and a new instruction was given.
SELECT A PLAYER TO LOSE A LIFE.
Jun timidly grabbed the remote and stared at the five coloured buttons. His gaze moved back and forth between the remote and the screen as he assessed which colour was affiliated with each of his friends.
“I don’t want to do this,” he stammered. “I don’t want to hurt any of you.”
He tried to select his own purple, to no effect. When he pressed it a second time, holding it down in his desperation to avoid harming anyone else, the AI spoke up.
“Select a player to lose a life.”
A minute countdown appeared, with a tiny caption beneath that read, ‘Failure to select a player will result in all players losing a life.’
Jun’s eyes widened in alarm when he read the rule. He stared at the remote in distress, his finger hovering over each of the remaining four colours.
“I can’t hurt Oh-chan…not again.”
Nino felt a pang of dread when he saw his choice move from blue to yellow. When he heard the younger’s whispered apology through the monitor, he swallowed hard and recoiled in preparation for the shock. An agonised yell echoed from both the television and the walls. Taken aback that it didn’t come from him, Nino looked up and was stunned to see Sho’s tally down by one. The monitor switched to show their friend clawing at his collar with gritted teeth. He collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily in the aftermath of the painful shock.
With the announcement of their first round’s completion, their doors unlocked and they stumbled out into the hallway.
“Sakurai!” Jun gasped.
His neck still throbbing, Sho shot daggers at him. His fierce glare was enough to keep Jun from coming closer. Although the remorse he felt for choosing him was blatantly obvious, so too was the fact that Sho didn’t care. He stormed past him without a word and entered another room.
Jun stared dejectedly at the floor. Aiba placed a consoling hand on his shoulder.
“You’ll do better next time,” he said.
“You had to choose someone; he’ll get over it,” Nino assured him. “This game is designed to be cruel. Just don’t let what happened throw you off, okay?”
Jun gave a small nod. Parting ways a second time, they forced themselves into the next room as the second challenge commenced. Nino, fully prepared for a new question, was taken by surprise when Jun’s icon illuminated first instead.
“Is it in reverse order?” he wondered.
Unlike him, Jun was clearly not expecting to have another question so soon. He looked alarmed but held his nerve regardless, recalling his friend’s advice.
“With a 93% success rate among salarymen, list all of Shikoku’s preferences within 30 seconds.”
The countdown began immediately.
“Kagawa, Tokushima, Ehime, Kouchi,” Jun stated after careful consideration.
But while his friends celebrated his success at answering correctly, they began to get nervous when instead of submitting his answer, he faltered. He repeated them under his breath, afraid of mistaking one. It was with five seconds left that he officially answered, of which his success was immediately declared.
Ohno’s challenge followed. He opened the large envelope that was sitting on the bed and pulled out four sheets of paper. Posed with the challenge of correctly identifying the size of each one, his companions watching sensed they were unlikely to make it through this round unscathed either. It came as no surprise to anyone when the sound of failure rang through the speakers. After contemplating his choice of players, a green light shone on each of their screens. Aiba’s agonised yelp boomed and he crumbled to the floor with a violent convulse. Nino couldn’t bear to watch as yet another one of his friends was ripped of their first life.
Expecting Aiba to be next, Nino was relieved when he instead was called on to answer. Despite an initial nervousness, he was able to successfully complete his task in what became the first in a chain reaction of victories with his remaining friends.
Round three kicked off to a rough start. Still shaken from his earlier loss of life, Aiba was far from prepared when he was made to go first. What should have been a common sensical question about the positions of a vertical crossing light turned into a nightmare. Aiba second-guessed himself constantly and the more he questioned whether the red stop sign was positioned above or below, the more confused he became. He eventually decided it went below the blue walk signal, a decision he instantly came to regret. His friends watched him agonise over who to punish for his failure. After trying in vain to choose the green, he eventually selected the purple button. Nino recoiled at the strangled yell he heard from the room next to his, made worse by the raw footage of their friend writhing about in pain.
Things only got worse from there. Jun was barely given the time to recover from his shock before he was challenged.
“With a 95% success rate among office ladies, use the keyboard to type ‘my name is ____’ within 20 seconds.”
Dragging himself off the ground, Jun staggered his way to the computer on the desk. The countdown began. His hands continued to shake from his electrocution; although he managed to write everything else within the limit, time ran out before he could find the right kanji for his first name. His face fell when the challenge ended with his sentence incomplete. Just like before, he struggled to choose.
With a flash of yellow, Nino found himself on the floor before he knew it. He choked at the bolts of electricity coursing through the metal that encompassed his neck. Each shock stabbed at his nerves like a hundred tiny needles all at once. He spasmed on his back, his fingers clutching at the collar in a futile attempt to break it. Even after it switched off seconds later, his leg continued to jerk uncontrollably while his torso was wracked with involuntary shudders. He completely missed Aiba’s gameplay as he fought to regain control of his body after the intense shock. By the time he managed to pull himself up, even Ohno had passed his question. Nino struggled to concentrate as the AI addressed him. He heard bits and pieces about foreigners and a high success rate, but relied on the words on the screen to make it through.
“Adam’s apple?” he read the English phrase with some doubt.
He rubbed his sore throat and tried to focus. He wasn’t familiar with the term he was meant to identify and after attempting to translate it, he lost confidence that what English he did know was accurate. He settled for using his common sense. He knew what apple meant and figured the term had to have some connection to how a person ate. Still rubbing his neck, he decided to chance it.
“Throat?” he answered. It didn’t sound right to him but he could think of nothing else. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when the bell sounded.
With only one question left in what had been a painful round thus far, Nino sighed in relief when he saw Sho’s challenge was to write his name with the correct stroke order. Such a task would be child’s play for someone like Sho-that much Nino was certain of. He hardly paid attention to the footage, grateful the round would be over without further damage. It was why he couldn’t believe his ears when the buzzer sounded not thirty seconds in. Nino stared at the television, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Sho was knelt in front of the parchment, calligraphy brush in hand, his gaze fixed on his finished name. He looked stunned even as he reached for the remote. Nino’s heart skipped a beat when the purple button was pressed for a second time that round. He desperately tried to shut out the sound of Jun’s agony.
When they were released from their rooms, Nino rushed out into the hallway. His gaze moved first to the younger, filled with concern at how pained he looked. He didn’t say anything; he just walked slowly over to a new room and waited to be let in. He showed no reaction even as Aiba attempted to console him.
“Oi,” Nino said, his voice low in warning. He grasped Sho’s shoulder and pulled him back before he could enter another room. “What the hell happened just now?”
Sho’s face remained shellshocked, though the tiniest hint of something akin to guilt did fleetingly flicker in his gaze.
“I made a mistake,” he murmured.
“Not that,” Nino spat. “Why did you choose Jun?”
“I had to choose someone.”
“He’d already lost a life this round,” Ohno reminded him coldly. “One more and he dies. You know that.”
Jun winced where he stood waiting nearby, though Sho’s only response was a tiny nod. His stunned expression remained, though guilt flashed in his gaze once more. Nino turned to the others.
“We need to be strategic about this,” he told them. “Clearly, losses are unavoidable. The electrocutions affect our ability to handle the tasks but more importantly, we can’t afford to choose randomly when we lose. Keep an eye on the tallies; if you fail, try to pick someone who has played in the round before you and only someone who has a life to spare. If we don’t calculate this right, someone is going to end up dead.”
His friends nodded despite not meeting his gaze, the weight of his warning laying heavy in all their hearts. While it was clear he’d made his point to them, it didn’t help the dread he felt when they were called to begin their next round.
Nino’s fear only grew worse when he watched Sho go first. The latter was tasked with naming five proverbs that contained an animal within thirty seconds. There was no ignoring the slight delay between each answer. Nino stared hard at the monitor, as if hoping their friend would be able to feel his burning gaze. When he reached his fifth proverb with just over ten seconds remaining, he paused again. Hesitation crossed his gaze, though Nino was doubtful of its source. He nearly choked when Sho finally gave his last answer, to their joint success.
Nino’s relief almost distracted him to the point of missing his own question. He re-read the instructions on the screen.
With a 65% success rate among housewives, put the cover on the comforter within three minutes.
Looking to the futon at his feet, he unfolded and unzipped the cover with much haste. He inserted the first corner of the comforter and once properly aligned, began feeding the rest of the material inside. He wasn’t even aware of the time as he worked to get the zipper across its length. With a final flick to even out the blanket, he stared down at his finished work. It was only once he was done that he looked at the near two minutes he had remaining. Seeing so much time left over, he momentarily questioned if he did it right. However, his concerns were in vain as the sound of success echoed from the monitor.
But while both he and Sho achieved victory this round, the others were not so fortunate. Faced with the selection of sixteen flags on their televisions, Jun was unable to match the 92% success rate of the foreigners asked before him. As he tried to identify each country, it was blatantly clear he was still experiencing the effects of the double electrocution. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, his vision hazy after the shocks. Though he managed to identify fourteen correctly, his confusion over the last two flags resulted in failure, of which Aiba paid the price for. It led to a disastrous chain reaction. With his plan going out the window, Nino could only watch the devastation unfold. Aiba’s shakiness after his shock destroyed any chance he may have had at identifying the character names for the kanji that appeared on his screen; his choice of Ohno for punishment then resulted in the latter’s failure in his own question. He hissed in pain as he clutched at his neck with his uninjured arm, triggering an intense agony through his entire body.
The final challenge of the round lasted all of thirty seconds. Nino couldn’t help wondering if his sleepy-faced friend actually bothered to look at the pictures of the puppies before choosing what he believed was a Yorkshire terrier. Any doubts he may have had, however, quickly vanished from his mind when fierce pain erupted from his collar a second time that night. Nino honestly couldn’t tell if it was more painful than the last shock or if it simply felt that way because he was still weak from the first time.
The boys couldn’t bring themselves to speak to one another when they returned to the hallway in a brief respite before their final round. They could see the burns beneath each of their collars. A fire akin to spite raged in their eyes whenever they cast a fleeting glare at one another, pain and frustration leading to mistrust of the worst possible kind. Breathing heavily in the aftermath of losing his second life, Nino narrowed his eyes first on Ohno, then on the rest of them as they each stepped up to their final door. He’d told them the path to victory and they’d ignored him. For the first time in his life, he didn’t see them as his friends. They were his adversaries-they held the power of his existence in their hands and he had no confidence they would not slip up again.
The round began with another early catastrophe as Ohno failed to live up to the 73% of Harajuku shoppers who correctly named the various hairstyles in the photos on the monitor. Nino hated himself for the selfish thought that ran through his mind as he watched his friend hesitate over who to choose; he hated himself more when a smile crept onto his lips at the red glow that filled his room. Sho’s stifled swear could be heard right before his words turned to pained seething. He spasmed on his side, sparks flying from his collar as his second life was taken.
Aiba went next. Facing the bowl of nine eggs in front of him, he was tasked to crack open the raw one within two minutes. He hastily picked up a couple and gave them a thorough shake, holding them up to his ear as he attempted to hear any kind of difference. When that failed to provide him with a definitive answer, he tried spinning them on the desk. A wide beam split his face when one of the eggs failed to spin properly even after multiple attempts. He cracked it open after double checking the last two from the bowl and was awarded victory instantaneously.
Sho struggled to heave himself up off the floor in time for his next challenge. He stumbled closer to the television, examining the pictures on the left and the captions on the right.
“With a 69% success rate among young people in Shibuya, match the terminology with the sushi items.”
Despite an initial feeling of confidence that Sho would know the answer, Nino remained tense while he watched his friend. He scrutinised his every move. Each second that passed left him paranoid-was he genuinely contemplating his options or throwing the challenge? Whose name was playing on his mind as an option should he fail? But while Nino was sceptical of his friend’s judgement, Sho was able to pass the round with minimal problems. There was a moment of conflict that crossed his features when he considered which item belonged to the jewel caption, but he was able to resolve his doubt without consequence.
The footage changed to Jun’s room. He stood facing the monitor and was given ninety seconds to name ten four-character idioms. From the look on his face when the countdown began, the challenge threw him but despite an initial confusion, he was able to list off his first half with remarkable speed.
“Survival of the fittest; different mouth, same voice; great talents mature late; getting your just desserts; law of the jungle.”
But as time ticked over the first twenty seconds, his pace slowed considerably. He drew a total blank. His expression twisted in concern when he wracked his brain. It took what felt like an eternity before he finally thought of more.
“Let sleeping dogs lie,” he said doubtfully. “Two birds, one stone…”
Despite his last couple of desperate attempts, it was not enough to get him over the line. As the hollow sound hit him, Jun fell to his knees in defeat. Forced to once again choose among his friends, he stared not at the tally board, but the remote in front of him. His friends tensed when they saw him loiter on their colours, seemingly ignorant to the fact that one wrong slip and one of them would perish most gruesomely. A blue light flooded the room as he settled on his choice. Whether it was sheer luck or rationality, his friends were relieved to see him select the only non-lethal option remaining.
Ohno choked on a pained yell when electricity seared through his throat once again. Tears pricked his eyes when his stitches pulled the longer he thrashed about uncontrollably on the floor. He didn’t bother hauling himself up when the shock ended; he just lay there, struggling to even breathe.
With Jun’s failure leaving each of them with only a single life, it all came down to Nino. He paid little attention to the statistics of his challenge and instead turned to the matchsticks on the desk. They were laid out in a way that spelt a mathematical problem: 3+4=5. His challenge was simple. Moving only one matchstick, he needed to solve the equation. He experimentally shifted one stick at a time as he tried to figure it out. More than a maths problem, he knew this was but a simple puzzle that relied on common sense. He stepped back, crossing his arms as he studied the problem for a minute.
Even without seeing them, he could feel his friends’ expectations as they waited for him to complete the final challenge. It was a strange sensation to know he held all the power now. His life was safe; it was their fates that rested with him. They trusted him to do as he had done so far and save them, but in actual fact they were at his mercy. Tracing his collar and the burns adorning his throat, he found himself contemplating for the first time that night if it was even worth trying to keep up his winning streak. The moment he realised his own thought, however, he was disgusted with himself. He shook the notion away immediately and focused back on the task at hand. Figuring it out, he moved the vertical stick from the plus sign to the top of the three, transforming the equation to 9-4=5.
His success was immediate. Their doors unlocked, as did their collars. None of them wasted a second in removing the dangerous devices. They returned to the hallway. Their phones chimed with their new visa days; they travelled downstairs to collect the five of hearts card from the lobby, and to verify that their home was no longer an arena.
And yet even as everything concluded and they were free to go on with their lives, their victory left a sour taste in their mouths as they realised things were not the same. Something had broken between them. The way they looked at one another had changed; simply glancing at their tension as they stood among each other was enough to see the cracks that had formed in their once impenetrable friendship.
---
It was dark. Nino drifted quietly through the halls of the hotel, unable to settle his mind. For once, it was not his nightmares keeping up-he hadn’t even tried to sleep that night, already knowing there was no chance of it. His physical exhaustion remained but with the guilt of what he considered doing playing on his conscience, he knew it would be a long time before he would ever be able to dream peacefully again.
Passing by Ohno’s room, he heard a muffled voice coming from inside. Although he wasn’t surprised to learn he wasn’t the only one up, it concerned him to think the elder might not be sleeping well. He needed as much rest as he could get considering his injury. But when Nino backtracked a couple of steps to check, what he heard concerned him far more.
“We have to do something about Matsumoto.” It sounded like Sho’s voice.
Not stopping to consider the rudeness of his action, he stormed inside without knocking. Sho and Ohno startled at the sudden intrusion. The two of them were sitting on the bed, both awake and clearly troubled.
Nino stared at Sho. “What did you say?”
“Nino,” Ohno began, his expression apprehensive.
“It’s fine, he should hear this.” Sho cast Ohno a reassuring look before facing Nino. “I said we need to do something about Matsumoto-kun, and I think you know it too.”
Nino frowned. “All I know is that I don’t like what I’m hearing.”
“I know you care about him-we all do-but we need to face facts,” Sho sighed. He rubbed his temple tiredly. “He’s terrible. He can’t play these games to save his life, which is the most important thing in this place.”
“You’re not exactly a pro at these games either,” Nino reminded him sharply. “You can’t seriously hold it against him just because it’s taking him a bit longer to get the hang of this place.”
“Except the rest of us are finding our niches. You and I have a knack for diamond games-you’re clearly good at hearts too. Aiba-chan does amazing in club games, and Satoshi carries us in spades.” Sho paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Matsujun only struggles.”
“That’s not fair,” Nino interrupted. “He saved us in the Three of Clubs, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“And in the Nine of Clubs, he nearly got himself killed.” With emphasis, Sho added through clenched teeth, “Nine. Times.”
Nino looked to Ohno with daggers burning in his gaze. “Is this what you think too?”
Ohno refused to look him in the eye. “I’m not thrilled about it, but I do think Sho-kun has a point. It does feel like we’re having to pull his weight for him in a lot of these games.”
“Do you regret saving him?” Nino dared to ask.
“I don’t regret saving him,” Ohno murmured. While there was a trace of guilt to be found, his expression mostly consisted of disappointment and sadness. He ran his good hand over his sling, wincing slightly as it slid up to his injured shoulder. “I regret that he needed saving.”
Nino couldn’t believe his ears. “He’s our friend.”
“He’s a burden,” Sho growled. He rose from the bed and paced over to Nino. “Whether you want to accept it or not, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to get either himself or one of us killed. Tonight proved that.”
“You lot weren’t exactly fantastic tonight,” Nino shot back.
“We still did better than him,” Sho retorted. “Tell me the truth, Nino. Do you honestly believe he’s an asset to us? Do you feel safe having him by our side when we enter an arena?”
Nino held his gaze in challenge. As much as he hated it, he had no direct reply to give. He could neither deny nor argue Sho’s point, though every instinct in him was telling him to. When he could think of nothing, he turned away with an agonised wince.
“See?” Sho said. “Friend or not, even you know he’s letting us down.”
“You want me to say that he’s holding us back?” Nino spat, whipping back around. “Fine, maybe we would be better off without him.”
Unbeknownst to all in the room, a silhouette stood in the door left slightly ajar. Jun’s face fell at what he heard. He stood there for a moment longer, not knowing what he should do. Making himself known now was impossible; he knew he ought to leave, to go back to his room and pretend like he never heard any of this, but he couldn’t. It was like his feet were cemented to the ground. And so he stayed, his presence continuing to go unnoticed to those inside.
“But what exactly would you have us do, Sakurai?” Nino demanded. “Cast him out? Sacrifice him in a game? Tell me, what’s your grand plan to rid us of this burden in our midst?”
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Sho stepped back from Nino. He faced the wall with his hands on his hips.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice dropping back to an exasperated whisper. “But something has to change and fast.”
A shattered look adorned Jun’s face. Tears welled up in his eyes when he thought back to their previous challenges. He remembered the moment Ohno pushed him out of the firing line of the tiger, and his unconvincing assurance that he didn’t blame him afterwards. Aiba’s words from their first night rang through his mind as he recalled the four of them standing on the opposite side of the aquarium glass.
“We have each other’s backs-it’s what we do.”
He’d lied when he told them he didn’t realise they’d already escaped. One by one, he’d watched them free themselves and swim to safety, never even noticing his struggles. At the time, he believed it when they said they hadn’t known he was still in there. Now he didn’t know what to think. His hand unconsciously raised to his neck; he choked on his own breath as all his emotions attempted to surface at once in his state of shock. Turning on his heel, he made a hasty retreat before his friends knew he was there.
“I can’t stand to see him get hurt again,” Sho went on. “I want us to get out of here alive but to do that, we need a plan moving forward.” He looked back over his shoulder, meeting Nino’s steely gaze once more. “A plan to protect us all.”
---
Turning back in the entranceway, Jun gazed up at the hotel. He could feel the tears building but refused to let them fall. He was terrified of the unknown fate that lay in wait for him but he’d made up his mind. He had to do this, for them. Rubbing his eyes dry, he mustered a melancholic smile before spinning around. His tearful whisper of “goodbye” echoed in the empty silence of the hotel.
Pairing: OT5, Matsumiya
Genre: AU, Angst, Dark Fantasy
Disclaimer: Plot is mine, Arashi is not. Unfortunately.
Summary: Down the rabbit hole they fell.
Author's Note: Happy Birthday Nino! And what better way to celebrate than with a special game for our beloved gamer.
Silence reigned when they left the zoo that evening. Their plans to head back to the hotel were thrown for a loop by Ohno’s extensive injuries. Realising the first-aid supplies and skills at their disposal would be nowhere near enough, they discarded any notion of rest and embarked on what they were certain would be a wild goose chase to get their friend the medical help he needed. What should have only been about ten minutes on foot to the nearest hospital turned into a seemingly never-ending trek haunted by Aiba’s grief, Ohno’s agony and desperation from all five of them.
Aiba stopped crying at some point during the journey but had not said a word since the game; he hadn’t even looked at any of them. He just walked alongside them, his feet dragging, his face painted with the same devastation that he’d worn since pulling the trigger. His eyes were glassy and tear tracks continued to stain his cheeks. After winning the game, his friends tried to give him as much time as they could to process what happened. But when the time came to leave, Aiba refused to move. Sho had needed to physically pull him away from the tiger’s corpse; he supported him the whole way to the hospital and remained by his side even after they arrived, trying his best to get him to open up, to no avail.
Stepping through the already broken glass of the automatic door, Nino and Jun helped Ohno through with great care. His face was twisted in agony like they’d never seen, his blood-soaked hand clutching the open wounds along his shoulder. His legs were shaking and he could no longer bear the pain of another step. Jun lowered him down into one of the chairs in the waiting area and did his best to tend to him. Sho did the same for Aiba, his anxious gaze shifting back and forth between the two of them. Leaving the broken pieces of his friends in the waiting room, Nino scouted every inch of the hospital. Medical records and x-rays were scattered across the floor; there were old casts, shoes, and even photos lying discarded in the empty rooms, almost as if the hospital had been abandoned in a haste. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for; his medical knowledge was limited at best but he prayed he would know it if and when he came across it. However, his hopes of miraculously stumbling upon the right supplies that would help his friend were dashed when he instead came across a container of foul sludge that he could only assume used to be medicine of some sort. Gagging at the smell, his heart sunk to realise that not even medication was immune to the cruelty of time in this place.
He had just reached the second floor when he heard a noise from one of the nearby rooms. Ignoring his instincts to take caution, he ran towards the source, throwing the third door on the left open. It was an examination room. A shadow flickered behind the curtain on the other side of the room. He pulled it back, startling slightly when he saw the woman on the chair behind it. She looked exhausted. Her hair was in tangles and she had deep bags under her eyes, while the glass in her hand was closer to empty than it was full. But she was dressed in a white coat and a stethoscope hung around her neck. There was a name badge clipped to the front of her coat that read, Koike Eiko, Neurosurgeon.
“You’re a doctor,” he exclaimed.
The woman squinted up at him, her face screwing up almost as if he had put her under a spotlight. She groaned softly and rubbed her temple.
“I was.” Her voice was dry and she sounded half asleep, but still Nino refused to be disheartened.
He grabbed her arm and attempted to pull her up. She shrugged him off.
“I need your help,” he pleaded. “Please, my friend was attacked by a tiger in our last game.”
While urgency laced his every word, Koike was unfazed by his panic. She leaned back, chuckling softly under her breath.
“You know the world’s gone mad when a sentence like that makes sense.”
Her amusement enraged Nino. “He’s bleeding and in a lot of pain,” he snarled. “We don’t know what to do!”
“I suggest you put him out of his misery.” She spun in her chair, making a sweeping gesture at the scalpels, forceps and other surgical equipment on the shelves and floor around them. “Take your pick.”
Nino seethed at her callous suggestion. “Does a person’s life mean so little to you? How can you call yourself a doctor?”
Koike turned sharply. Her eyes cleared and she seemed to snap her back to her senses, enough to retaliate to his accusation.
“I’ve dedicated more than half my life to helping people, and saved more lives than you could imagine,” she snapped. “The night I arrived here, I was called in to help with the casualties of a major traffic accident. I wasn’t even supposed to be on call, but I still came. This is what I arrived to.”
She threw her arm out in emphasis of the mess around her. The room, like the rest of the hospital, was in disarray, much the same as the rest of the city.
“Even if I wanted to help, look around you,” the doctor went on, her tone scathing yet disparaging. “Nothing works anymore. I can’t help anyone.”
Nino shook his head. “Just because the machines are useless doesn’t mean you are. You’re still a doctor, aren’t you?”
The woman didn’t say anything at first. After a moment, she lifted herself from her chair and walked towards him. Nino felt a flicker of hope in his heart, but it shattered when she placed a scalpel in his hand. She held his gaze, her expression drowning in hopelessness, before she turned away once more. She grabbed her drink and pushed her way past him, disappearing down the dim hallway in the opposite direction of the stairs.
Nino stared after her. He teetered in her direction before swearing under his breath and spinning on his heel to race back to the waiting room. When he returned, he found a still shaken Jun preliminarily tending to Ohno’s wounds. Ohno winced at the sting of the antiseptic. His whole left side was shaking. A pain like never before seethed through the muscles from his neck, down his arm and all the way to his waist. Even his legs were quivering. Jun winced sympathetically and mumbled another apology as he flushed the wound with some water. They looked up when Nino re-emerged from the shadows.
“Well?”
A lump formed in Nino’s throat when he saw the hope in their eyes, as if waiting for him to tell them the news that he’d found the miracle that would end Ohno’s suffering. Nino forced himself to push past the guilt. Coming forward, he aided Jun in the care of their friend.
“I found a doctor,” he told them honestly. “But she was as much a mess as the rest of this place.”
It broke his heart to see Ohno’s face contorted in lasting agony, but even more so as that tiny flicker of hope in his eyes faded away.
“I’ll try not to take that personally, shall I?”
Recognising the voice, Nino whipped around in shock. He watched, his jaw dropping when the doctor emerged from the shadows. As she stepped into the moonlight, he saw that her stethoscope was no longer crooked and she was holding a small medical bag.
“You came back.” Nino couldn’t hide the surprise from his voice.
Koike crouched down beside him in front of Ohno. She met his gaze for a second time that night, only this time there was a sincerity that had been missing previously.
“I swore an oath to help people,” she murmured, sounding more like she was talking to herself than anything else. “Just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean I won’t honour it.”
She turned her attention to Ohno and examined the scratches marking up his bare shoulders. While the claws had been fortunate enough to miss any arteries and did not go deep enough to graze the bone, the damage to the muscle was quite severe. There were four deep lacerations over his left posterior scapular. For what it was worth, they all knew it could have and probably should have been a lot worse.
“A tiger did this, you said?”
The boys nodded. When Aiba whimpered softly, Sho wrapped an arm around him and continued his futile efforts to comfort the other man.
“What’s wrong with him?” Koike asked.
“It’s a long story,” Nino replied.
The doctor clicked her tongue and glanced at Ohno. “You should consider yourself lucky. Gangrene would be all but guaranteed if this was a bite. Even with only scratches, you’re hardly in the clear in terms of infection. It’ll be extremely difficult to keep clean under these conditions and given the depth of the lacerations, we could be looking at nerve damage.”
“You will be able to help him though, right?” Jun asked.
“I’ll do what I can.”
She reached into her bag and retrieved a bottle of saline, as well as some gauze, a surgical needle and thread. Handing Nino a torch, she instructed him to keep the light on Ohno’s shoulder and hold it steady. She spent the first fifteen minutes flushing out the gashes with the saline. Once it was sterilised, she numbed the area with three injections of anaesthesia around the wounded area. Nino flinched more than Ohno did when he saw the needle piece his shoulder. His friends could barely stand to watch as she pulled the flaps of open skin towards one another, binding them precisely with each suture. After completing the first row of stitches, she pressed a piece of clean gauze on the wound to reclean it. Ohno started to grow restless after a while as the anaesthesia wore off. His face screwed up in discomfort and he held his injured arm with a soft groan.
“Almost done,” Koike assured him, tying off another suture. There were at least eighteen already. “This would be a lot easier if we weren’t in the dark.”
Hearing her disgruntled mutter, Nino refocused the torchlight on the last untended section of the injury. He held his arm perfectly steady until he saw the final stitch be completed.
“There, that should do it,” the doctor said. She then retrieved another syringe from her bag. “This is a shot of morphine to help with the pain.”
Ohno winced slightly when she injected the painkiller into his muscle but before long, the drug began to take effect and the worst of his agony ebbed away, leaving him with a dull throb in his arm and an overall feeling of exhaustion. Fitting his arm with a sling, Koike stood and faced the five boys. Her gaze lingered on Nino.
“That’s the best I can do for him.”
Nino bowed his head in sincerest gratitude. One look at Ohno was enough to assure him of the immense assistance she had been to him. The boys thanked her for her help and watched her walk away. Helping the slightly out-of-it Ohno to his feet, they made their way from the hospital as the sun broke the horizon.
But while Ohno’s injuries may have been tended to, the friends knew their troubles were far from over. Upon returning to the hotel, Aiba pushed Sho away completely and retreated to his room in perfect, concerning silence. The others took it in turns to check on him throughout the day but for the most part, their efforts were in vain. As much as it pained them to leave him to grieve in isolation, they knew there was nothing they could do or say to help right now. The rest of them weren’t faring much better. Despite being physically and mentally exhausted from all that happened, little rest was achieved. Sho, Nino and Jun had their hands full tending to their wounded companions throughout the day.
“How are you feeling?” Jun asked as he readjusted Ohno’s pillow later that afternoon.
Looking him once over gave him his answer. The morphine was clearly wearing off as the hours dragged on. His once atypical talent of sleeping anywhere no matter the circumstances had been robbed of him as he lay tossing and turning, trying to find even a semi-comfortable position. He wouldn’t meet Jun’s gaze either. His expression was more complicated than the younger was used to seeing, a wistful reflection glimmering in his usually gentle eyes.
“I’m really sorry,” Jun murmured, his every word laced with the immense guilt bearing down on him.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Ohno’s voice was monotone, offering nothing but hollow assurance that he was okay with how things played out in last night’s game.
Jun bit his lip, unsure what else to say. His gaze lingered on the line of sutures along his friend’s shoulder blade. While Koike-sensei did a good job at stitching him up, there was no denying the damage.
“You didn’t have to do that for me,” Jun tried to say.
“If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here,” Ohno replied bluntly.
“Y-You’re right.” Jun bowed his head bashfully. “Thank you.”
Ohno stared at him for a moment before turning onto his right side. Whether Jun was trying to make him feel better or assuage his own guilt made no difference to him. He was in no mood to chat. He was in a lot of pain and the last thing he wanted was to think about what had caused it. When Jun offered him some painkillers, he swallowed them with neither water nor words, knowing they were unlikely to make so much as a dent in the agony he was experiencing. It felt like his arm was on fire.
Reading his silence as a direct response to not wanting him there while he rested, Jun respected his wish and left the room soon after, ignoring the ache in his heart as he did. He wandered the empty corridors aimlessly. Thoughts of returning to his own room conjured up feelings of an even worse isolation, the likes of which he wasn’t sure he could handle at the moment. Deciding to check on Aiba, he made his way to his friend’s residence down the hall. He knocked quietly. There was no response, not that he really expected one. Excusing his intrusion, he opened the door to a sliver. He paused in the entrance when he saw his friend lying perfectly still on the bed. He was facing the opposite wall but though he couldn’t see his face, Jun knew with full certainty that he was awake.
“Aiba-kun?” he called softly. Again, silence was his only answer. “I just wanted to check you were okay after…”
He winced as the images replayed in his mind. It was not the vision of the dead tiger that wrenched his heart, but the anguish on Aiba’s face when he realised he was the one responsible. The words nearly caught in Jun’s throat when he went on.
“You have to know that none of us wanted it to end like that, and I certainly never meant for you or Ohno-kun to get hurt.”
Still, Aiba was silent. Jun studied his form for any unspoken sign that he might be listening-a sniffle, a shrug of his shoulders, a hitch in his breathing. He was left disappointed.
“Please speak to me,” he pleaded, his voice tiny. “If you want to blame me for what happened, I’ll understand. Yell at me if you have to, just say something, anything. Please.”
He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised when the quiet reigned on, broken only by the catch in his own throat. In the course of one night, one moment, it felt like he had managed to break not one but two of his friends. He stared at Aiba’s back with devastation painted across his face, something he knew the other would not see. Taking his continued silence as a clear sign that he was not welcome in the company of this friend either, he retreated from the room with one final whispered apology.
Only after the door closed with a soft click did Aiba finally move. He struggled to lift his head, doing so just high enough to glance over his shoulder. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were stained with salty tracks he had no intention of wiping away. But despite the evidence of his grief, his expression was unreadable as he stared at the door. It was only for a couple of seconds before his head dropped back to the pillows.
Exiled to the hallway once more, Jun stiffened in a mix of anxiety and anticipation when he saw Sho walking towards him. His heart sunk when the other man passed by and disappeared into Aiba’s room without a word of acknowledgment to him. Unable to bring himself to go anywhere else, Jun sighed and leant against the wall. His back slid slowly to the ground. Dragging his knees to his chest, he held his head in his hands. The final round of their game kept replaying no matter how many times he tried to forget it. The memory of himself tripping, the scream of his friend ringing in his ears, the rumble of the gunshot that had destroyed both their final beast and Aiba’s heart-he wanted to take it all back so badly.
“Jun-kun?”
He lifted his gaze a little when he heard Nino’s voice above him.
“I screwed up,” he murmured, not looking up at his friend. “They won’t even talk to me.”
Nino stared at him sympathetically. He fought to find the right words but found none. He was exhausted after spending his time that day equally between his other friends as he tried his hardest to repair the damage done. He’d cleaned and redressed Ohno’s wounds; he distracted Sho with improvements for their generator, and comforted Aiba for hours on end. As the sun went down, he wanted nothing more than to retire to his own room and get some long overdue sleep but discovering Jun alone in the hallway, looking almost as broken as Aiba, made him realise his work was not done for the day.
He extended a hand to the younger. “Come on.”
Jun looked to him in confusion as he was pulled to his feet. Nino didn’t let go of his hand, instead dragging him behind him as they made their way through the hallway, down the stairs to the lobby.
“Where are we going?”
“Out,” Nino replied vaguely. Deciding it was best to get his friend away from the confines of the hotel before he overthought himself to death, he less insisted Jun join him on an evening walk than he did forced him.
“You want to go outside?” Jun didn’t bother trying to hide his disbelief.
It was the first time all day that Nino had seen even a hint of a smile on his face, so he pushed aside whatever snarky reply he wanted to give and nodded. “It’s been a long 24 hours. I need to clear my head and so do you.”
Although Jun didn’t look convinced that he was telling the whole truth, he decided to tag along regardless. They had just about reached the front entrance when Nino sensed something was amiss. His steps halted, his anxious gaze scanning ahead of them.
“Don’t move!” The urgency of his tone brought Jun to an immediate stop.
Nino came forward carefully. He stretched his arm out and gently pushed Jun back from the doors, his wide gaze fixed on something unseen. The tiniest flicker of red in his peripheral vision confirmed his fears.
“Give me your necklace,” he whispered. When the younger questioned him, his tone became desperate. “Just do it!”
Jun unhooked the silver chain and handed it to him. He looked on tensely when Nino tossed it ahead of them. It immediately fell out of the air with a sizzle as it struck the invisible grid. Both boys startled and stared at the brand-new scorch mark that stained the metal.
“Don’t tell me…” Jun breathed.
They ran to the window, gazing out into the night. Fleeting sparks ricocheted all around the building, bringing with it a sinking feeling in both their hearts. Nino swallowed and glanced over his shoulder. The monitor in reception switched on with a familiar and dreaded announcement.
THE GAME WILL COMMENCE IN A MOMENT. ALL PLAYERS PLEASE GATHER IN RECEPTION.
The same message appeared on the television screens in both Ohno and Aiba’s rooms, alerting the others to their alarming new circumstances. It didn’t take them long to rush down to the lobby.
“Our hotel is a game arena?” Sho said in disbelief.
“This can’t be happening,” Aiba exclaimed.
“Difficulty,” the AI voice sounded through the monitor. “Five of hearts.”
Jun’s eyes widened. “A heart game?”
Nino felt like he couldn’t breathe. His friends were already in tatters after the events of their last game; he wasn’t sure they would be able to survive another one so soon. He remembered what the hearts suit represented and thought they were fortunate enough to avoid playing any such game so far. Now they were not only forced to play one, but they had been thrown into an arena with no warning or intention. It felt like the game master was toying with them.
PLEASE WEAR THE COLLARS AND PROCEED INTO THE ELEVATOR.
Beneath the on-screen command appeared a ninety second countdown. The elevator behind them suddenly opened. Inside was a small table with five identical phones, as well as metal contraptions that looked concerningly like shock collars.
With the seconds ticking down, they had no choice but to do as they were told. They hesitantly attached the collars around their necks; snug yet with enough room left to breathe, the devices self-locked. Even without knowing what they were playing, the condition of wearing the sinister collars was enough to make them all hyperventilate. The elevator began to move, going up to the fifteenth floor.
“The game will now commence,” their phones said when the doors opened. “Each player please enter a room of your choice.”
It was with much reluctance that they left the elevator and stepped up to an unknown door. Nino wasn’t even surprised when the doors unlocked themselves without the need of a key. His gaze moved over the terrified faces of his friends.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “We’ve got this.”
With the echo of his weak words of reassurance, the doors closed behind each of them. Alone in their rooms, the televisions switched on in perfect synchronisation.
“Game: Life Lessons.”
Nino narrowed his eyes on the TV. The screen was divided into five sections; at the top of each column was a cartoon head that bore uncanny resemblance to him and his friends. It was like looking at video game avatars of themselves. Underneath each head was a tally of three.
“Players are given three lives and will take it in turns to undertake trivial tasks based on majority votes. Each round will end once all players have completed their challenge, upon which the doors will unlock and they may move to the next room. When a player fails a task, they must select another player to lose a life. Their chosen player’s collar will deliver an electric shock. If a player loses all three lives, their collar will explode. The game ends after players have completed five challenges each.”
Nino’s eyes widened as the rules were explained. He trusted his friends dearly but in a game where they would be forced to hurt each other, and worse still prioritise who they hurt and who they spared, it was like entering a special kind of hell.
“Round one, start.” The border around Nino’s avatar highlighted yellow. “Ninomiya Kazunari’s challenge.”
Doing his best to ignore the way his heart launched into his throat, Nino watched the monitor for his first question. Four pictures popped up; they were illustrated drawings of famous buildings from around the region. He cringed even before the question was announced.
“With an 85% success rate among pedestrians, please arrange the four towers by height.”
Nino ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself as he wracked his brain for the necessary information. He immediately knew that Tokyo sky-tree was the tallest, followed by Tokyo tower. The real trouble came with the order of the last two. The buildings might be well-known but it had been years since he was within the vicinity of either one. He compared the height of the illustrations as if hoping they would give something away. It was fruitless effort, however, as all were drawn to identical scale. After attempting some mental simulation, he decided to go with his hunch. He reached for his phone and dragged each of the photos into the correct order.
“Tokyo sky-tree,” he whispered to himself as he checked his answer with forty seconds remaining. “Tokyo tower, Yokohama landmark, Midtown tower.”
He tapped the submit button and shut his eyes, awaiting the moment when his success or failure was declared. A loading spiral appeared on his phone screen as his answer was processed. After a moment, a bell sounded, followed by a success caption on the TV. Relief washed over him immediately and he threw his arms up in a guts pose.
But while he was delighted that his first round was a triumph, he knew things were far from over. He turned his attention back to the screen when Sho’s banner highlighted red. To Nino’s surprise, footage of his friend’s room popped up. It revealed him standing near the bed; there was a room service cart behind him.
“With a 90% success rate among salarymen, correctly identify the dish in front of you.”
Sho looked to the cart and lifted the cloche. There was a small fillet of fish on the plate. He spent a few seconds debating whether the rules permitted him to taste it before picking up the fork. He hummed to himself as he recognised the flavours. With little hesitation, he grabbed his phone and prepared to answer with ample time remaining.
“The dish is codfish, Saikyoyaki style.”
He did not appear even slightly surprised when his success was declared. As he went to take another bite of the dish, the footage switched to Aiba’s room.
“With a 92% success rate among gym attendees, identify where the triceps are on the human body.”
Aiba looked hesitant as he considered the question. He hugged himself, his hands sliding up and down his arms while his expression became increasingly confused. Every time he questioned himself, his brows would knit together and he tilted his head in doubt. Time was running out by the time he readied himself to answer. Deciding to chance it with his original location, he grasped the muscle at the back of his upper arm, just beneath the shoulder bone.
“Here?” It sounded more like he was asking than answering, but still he received his reward.
Nino grinned proudly. He was grateful he hadn’t entered that room as the location he was thinking was not even remotely close to what Aiba chose.
Ohno was next. Despite his arm being in a sling, he looked surprisingly calm as he sat waiting for his question.
“With a 71% success rate among high school students, the proverb ‘give an iron rod to an oni’ means to make something strong even stronger. Complete the proverb of the same meaning, to ‘give ___ to a tiger’.”
Ohno’s face screwed up. He cradled his arm, uncomfortable at the reminder. Watching him, Nino couldn’t help wondering if it was coincidence or the game master’s twisted sense of humour. Perhaps it was their direct intent to play on his friend’s recent trauma in the hopes of getting him to slip up. But while that may have been the purpose behind the choice of question, Ohno remained astonishingly composed.
“They don’t really need anything, they’re strong enough,” he muttered under his breath. He thought about it for a while, unfazed by the two-minute countdown. He was within the last thirty seconds when he answered. “Give horns to a tiger.”
The bell of success was music to all their ears. The smile on Nino’s face fell, however, when the footage changed to Jun’s room. His heart ached to see how nervous his friend appeared. There was a square of coloured paper sitting in front of him.
“With an 82% success rate among parents of young children, fold an origami crane within three minutes.”
Jun hesitantly picked up the paper. He made the first six or seven folds confidently, albeit slowly. As soon as Nino saw the doubt flicker across his expression, he knew they were all in trouble. His fingers played with the ends of the paper, confusion painted on his face as he questioned whether he had done it right. Much to his friends’ distress, he undid his last fold. He redid it only a few seconds later but their hopes that he was back on track was thwarted when they saw him fold the top layer of the square upwards instead of inwards. Nino prayed that he was the one who was wrong-after all, it had been a long time since he did origami as well. But as the minutes went on, his hopes were dashed. Despite being isolated from the others, Nino was certain they would be as disheartened. Even if they hadn’t any certainty in the steps themselves, they could tell from the final product that it was a failure. The last ten seconds counted down and Jun frantically tried to fix the mess that had become of the paper, but it was too late. A buzzer-noise sounded in place of the bell as failure was declared. Jun looked at the screen in dismay when every column but his lit up and a new instruction was given.
SELECT A PLAYER TO LOSE A LIFE.
Jun timidly grabbed the remote and stared at the five coloured buttons. His gaze moved back and forth between the remote and the screen as he assessed which colour was affiliated with each of his friends.
“I don’t want to do this,” he stammered. “I don’t want to hurt any of you.”
He tried to select his own purple, to no effect. When he pressed it a second time, holding it down in his desperation to avoid harming anyone else, the AI spoke up.
“Select a player to lose a life.”
A minute countdown appeared, with a tiny caption beneath that read, ‘Failure to select a player will result in all players losing a life.’
Jun’s eyes widened in alarm when he read the rule. He stared at the remote in distress, his finger hovering over each of the remaining four colours.
“I can’t hurt Oh-chan…not again.”
Nino felt a pang of dread when he saw his choice move from blue to yellow. When he heard the younger’s whispered apology through the monitor, he swallowed hard and recoiled in preparation for the shock. An agonised yell echoed from both the television and the walls. Taken aback that it didn’t come from him, Nino looked up and was stunned to see Sho’s tally down by one. The monitor switched to show their friend clawing at his collar with gritted teeth. He collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily in the aftermath of the painful shock.
With the announcement of their first round’s completion, their doors unlocked and they stumbled out into the hallway.
“Sakurai!” Jun gasped.
His neck still throbbing, Sho shot daggers at him. His fierce glare was enough to keep Jun from coming closer. Although the remorse he felt for choosing him was blatantly obvious, so too was the fact that Sho didn’t care. He stormed past him without a word and entered another room.
Jun stared dejectedly at the floor. Aiba placed a consoling hand on his shoulder.
“You’ll do better next time,” he said.
“You had to choose someone; he’ll get over it,” Nino assured him. “This game is designed to be cruel. Just don’t let what happened throw you off, okay?”
Jun gave a small nod. Parting ways a second time, they forced themselves into the next room as the second challenge commenced. Nino, fully prepared for a new question, was taken by surprise when Jun’s icon illuminated first instead.
“Is it in reverse order?” he wondered.
Unlike him, Jun was clearly not expecting to have another question so soon. He looked alarmed but held his nerve regardless, recalling his friend’s advice.
“With a 93% success rate among salarymen, list all of Shikoku’s preferences within 30 seconds.”
The countdown began immediately.
“Kagawa, Tokushima, Ehime, Kouchi,” Jun stated after careful consideration.
But while his friends celebrated his success at answering correctly, they began to get nervous when instead of submitting his answer, he faltered. He repeated them under his breath, afraid of mistaking one. It was with five seconds left that he officially answered, of which his success was immediately declared.
Ohno’s challenge followed. He opened the large envelope that was sitting on the bed and pulled out four sheets of paper. Posed with the challenge of correctly identifying the size of each one, his companions watching sensed they were unlikely to make it through this round unscathed either. It came as no surprise to anyone when the sound of failure rang through the speakers. After contemplating his choice of players, a green light shone on each of their screens. Aiba’s agonised yelp boomed and he crumbled to the floor with a violent convulse. Nino couldn’t bear to watch as yet another one of his friends was ripped of their first life.
Expecting Aiba to be next, Nino was relieved when he instead was called on to answer. Despite an initial nervousness, he was able to successfully complete his task in what became the first in a chain reaction of victories with his remaining friends.
Round three kicked off to a rough start. Still shaken from his earlier loss of life, Aiba was far from prepared when he was made to go first. What should have been a common sensical question about the positions of a vertical crossing light turned into a nightmare. Aiba second-guessed himself constantly and the more he questioned whether the red stop sign was positioned above or below, the more confused he became. He eventually decided it went below the blue walk signal, a decision he instantly came to regret. His friends watched him agonise over who to punish for his failure. After trying in vain to choose the green, he eventually selected the purple button. Nino recoiled at the strangled yell he heard from the room next to his, made worse by the raw footage of their friend writhing about in pain.
Things only got worse from there. Jun was barely given the time to recover from his shock before he was challenged.
“With a 95% success rate among office ladies, use the keyboard to type ‘my name is ____’ within 20 seconds.”
Dragging himself off the ground, Jun staggered his way to the computer on the desk. The countdown began. His hands continued to shake from his electrocution; although he managed to write everything else within the limit, time ran out before he could find the right kanji for his first name. His face fell when the challenge ended with his sentence incomplete. Just like before, he struggled to choose.
With a flash of yellow, Nino found himself on the floor before he knew it. He choked at the bolts of electricity coursing through the metal that encompassed his neck. Each shock stabbed at his nerves like a hundred tiny needles all at once. He spasmed on his back, his fingers clutching at the collar in a futile attempt to break it. Even after it switched off seconds later, his leg continued to jerk uncontrollably while his torso was wracked with involuntary shudders. He completely missed Aiba’s gameplay as he fought to regain control of his body after the intense shock. By the time he managed to pull himself up, even Ohno had passed his question. Nino struggled to concentrate as the AI addressed him. He heard bits and pieces about foreigners and a high success rate, but relied on the words on the screen to make it through.
“Adam’s apple?” he read the English phrase with some doubt.
He rubbed his sore throat and tried to focus. He wasn’t familiar with the term he was meant to identify and after attempting to translate it, he lost confidence that what English he did know was accurate. He settled for using his common sense. He knew what apple meant and figured the term had to have some connection to how a person ate. Still rubbing his neck, he decided to chance it.
“Throat?” he answered. It didn’t sound right to him but he could think of nothing else. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when the bell sounded.
With only one question left in what had been a painful round thus far, Nino sighed in relief when he saw Sho’s challenge was to write his name with the correct stroke order. Such a task would be child’s play for someone like Sho-that much Nino was certain of. He hardly paid attention to the footage, grateful the round would be over without further damage. It was why he couldn’t believe his ears when the buzzer sounded not thirty seconds in. Nino stared at the television, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Sho was knelt in front of the parchment, calligraphy brush in hand, his gaze fixed on his finished name. He looked stunned even as he reached for the remote. Nino’s heart skipped a beat when the purple button was pressed for a second time that round. He desperately tried to shut out the sound of Jun’s agony.
When they were released from their rooms, Nino rushed out into the hallway. His gaze moved first to the younger, filled with concern at how pained he looked. He didn’t say anything; he just walked slowly over to a new room and waited to be let in. He showed no reaction even as Aiba attempted to console him.
“Oi,” Nino said, his voice low in warning. He grasped Sho’s shoulder and pulled him back before he could enter another room. “What the hell happened just now?”
Sho’s face remained shellshocked, though the tiniest hint of something akin to guilt did fleetingly flicker in his gaze.
“I made a mistake,” he murmured.
“Not that,” Nino spat. “Why did you choose Jun?”
“I had to choose someone.”
“He’d already lost a life this round,” Ohno reminded him coldly. “One more and he dies. You know that.”
Jun winced where he stood waiting nearby, though Sho’s only response was a tiny nod. His stunned expression remained, though guilt flashed in his gaze once more. Nino turned to the others.
“We need to be strategic about this,” he told them. “Clearly, losses are unavoidable. The electrocutions affect our ability to handle the tasks but more importantly, we can’t afford to choose randomly when we lose. Keep an eye on the tallies; if you fail, try to pick someone who has played in the round before you and only someone who has a life to spare. If we don’t calculate this right, someone is going to end up dead.”
His friends nodded despite not meeting his gaze, the weight of his warning laying heavy in all their hearts. While it was clear he’d made his point to them, it didn’t help the dread he felt when they were called to begin their next round.
Nino’s fear only grew worse when he watched Sho go first. The latter was tasked with naming five proverbs that contained an animal within thirty seconds. There was no ignoring the slight delay between each answer. Nino stared hard at the monitor, as if hoping their friend would be able to feel his burning gaze. When he reached his fifth proverb with just over ten seconds remaining, he paused again. Hesitation crossed his gaze, though Nino was doubtful of its source. He nearly choked when Sho finally gave his last answer, to their joint success.
Nino’s relief almost distracted him to the point of missing his own question. He re-read the instructions on the screen.
With a 65% success rate among housewives, put the cover on the comforter within three minutes.
Looking to the futon at his feet, he unfolded and unzipped the cover with much haste. He inserted the first corner of the comforter and once properly aligned, began feeding the rest of the material inside. He wasn’t even aware of the time as he worked to get the zipper across its length. With a final flick to even out the blanket, he stared down at his finished work. It was only once he was done that he looked at the near two minutes he had remaining. Seeing so much time left over, he momentarily questioned if he did it right. However, his concerns were in vain as the sound of success echoed from the monitor.
But while both he and Sho achieved victory this round, the others were not so fortunate. Faced with the selection of sixteen flags on their televisions, Jun was unable to match the 92% success rate of the foreigners asked before him. As he tried to identify each country, it was blatantly clear he was still experiencing the effects of the double electrocution. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, his vision hazy after the shocks. Though he managed to identify fourteen correctly, his confusion over the last two flags resulted in failure, of which Aiba paid the price for. It led to a disastrous chain reaction. With his plan going out the window, Nino could only watch the devastation unfold. Aiba’s shakiness after his shock destroyed any chance he may have had at identifying the character names for the kanji that appeared on his screen; his choice of Ohno for punishment then resulted in the latter’s failure in his own question. He hissed in pain as he clutched at his neck with his uninjured arm, triggering an intense agony through his entire body.
The final challenge of the round lasted all of thirty seconds. Nino couldn’t help wondering if his sleepy-faced friend actually bothered to look at the pictures of the puppies before choosing what he believed was a Yorkshire terrier. Any doubts he may have had, however, quickly vanished from his mind when fierce pain erupted from his collar a second time that night. Nino honestly couldn’t tell if it was more painful than the last shock or if it simply felt that way because he was still weak from the first time.
The boys couldn’t bring themselves to speak to one another when they returned to the hallway in a brief respite before their final round. They could see the burns beneath each of their collars. A fire akin to spite raged in their eyes whenever they cast a fleeting glare at one another, pain and frustration leading to mistrust of the worst possible kind. Breathing heavily in the aftermath of losing his second life, Nino narrowed his eyes first on Ohno, then on the rest of them as they each stepped up to their final door. He’d told them the path to victory and they’d ignored him. For the first time in his life, he didn’t see them as his friends. They were his adversaries-they held the power of his existence in their hands and he had no confidence they would not slip up again.
The round began with another early catastrophe as Ohno failed to live up to the 73% of Harajuku shoppers who correctly named the various hairstyles in the photos on the monitor. Nino hated himself for the selfish thought that ran through his mind as he watched his friend hesitate over who to choose; he hated himself more when a smile crept onto his lips at the red glow that filled his room. Sho’s stifled swear could be heard right before his words turned to pained seething. He spasmed on his side, sparks flying from his collar as his second life was taken.
Aiba went next. Facing the bowl of nine eggs in front of him, he was tasked to crack open the raw one within two minutes. He hastily picked up a couple and gave them a thorough shake, holding them up to his ear as he attempted to hear any kind of difference. When that failed to provide him with a definitive answer, he tried spinning them on the desk. A wide beam split his face when one of the eggs failed to spin properly even after multiple attempts. He cracked it open after double checking the last two from the bowl and was awarded victory instantaneously.
Sho struggled to heave himself up off the floor in time for his next challenge. He stumbled closer to the television, examining the pictures on the left and the captions on the right.
“With a 69% success rate among young people in Shibuya, match the terminology with the sushi items.”
Despite an initial feeling of confidence that Sho would know the answer, Nino remained tense while he watched his friend. He scrutinised his every move. Each second that passed left him paranoid-was he genuinely contemplating his options or throwing the challenge? Whose name was playing on his mind as an option should he fail? But while Nino was sceptical of his friend’s judgement, Sho was able to pass the round with minimal problems. There was a moment of conflict that crossed his features when he considered which item belonged to the jewel caption, but he was able to resolve his doubt without consequence.
The footage changed to Jun’s room. He stood facing the monitor and was given ninety seconds to name ten four-character idioms. From the look on his face when the countdown began, the challenge threw him but despite an initial confusion, he was able to list off his first half with remarkable speed.
“Survival of the fittest; different mouth, same voice; great talents mature late; getting your just desserts; law of the jungle.”
But as time ticked over the first twenty seconds, his pace slowed considerably. He drew a total blank. His expression twisted in concern when he wracked his brain. It took what felt like an eternity before he finally thought of more.
“Let sleeping dogs lie,” he said doubtfully. “Two birds, one stone…”
Despite his last couple of desperate attempts, it was not enough to get him over the line. As the hollow sound hit him, Jun fell to his knees in defeat. Forced to once again choose among his friends, he stared not at the tally board, but the remote in front of him. His friends tensed when they saw him loiter on their colours, seemingly ignorant to the fact that one wrong slip and one of them would perish most gruesomely. A blue light flooded the room as he settled on his choice. Whether it was sheer luck or rationality, his friends were relieved to see him select the only non-lethal option remaining.
Ohno choked on a pained yell when electricity seared through his throat once again. Tears pricked his eyes when his stitches pulled the longer he thrashed about uncontrollably on the floor. He didn’t bother hauling himself up when the shock ended; he just lay there, struggling to even breathe.
With Jun’s failure leaving each of them with only a single life, it all came down to Nino. He paid little attention to the statistics of his challenge and instead turned to the matchsticks on the desk. They were laid out in a way that spelt a mathematical problem: 3+4=5. His challenge was simple. Moving only one matchstick, he needed to solve the equation. He experimentally shifted one stick at a time as he tried to figure it out. More than a maths problem, he knew this was but a simple puzzle that relied on common sense. He stepped back, crossing his arms as he studied the problem for a minute.
Even without seeing them, he could feel his friends’ expectations as they waited for him to complete the final challenge. It was a strange sensation to know he held all the power now. His life was safe; it was their fates that rested with him. They trusted him to do as he had done so far and save them, but in actual fact they were at his mercy. Tracing his collar and the burns adorning his throat, he found himself contemplating for the first time that night if it was even worth trying to keep up his winning streak. The moment he realised his own thought, however, he was disgusted with himself. He shook the notion away immediately and focused back on the task at hand. Figuring it out, he moved the vertical stick from the plus sign to the top of the three, transforming the equation to 9-4=5.
His success was immediate. Their doors unlocked, as did their collars. None of them wasted a second in removing the dangerous devices. They returned to the hallway. Their phones chimed with their new visa days; they travelled downstairs to collect the five of hearts card from the lobby, and to verify that their home was no longer an arena.
And yet even as everything concluded and they were free to go on with their lives, their victory left a sour taste in their mouths as they realised things were not the same. Something had broken between them. The way they looked at one another had changed; simply glancing at their tension as they stood among each other was enough to see the cracks that had formed in their once impenetrable friendship.
---
It was dark. Nino drifted quietly through the halls of the hotel, unable to settle his mind. For once, it was not his nightmares keeping up-he hadn’t even tried to sleep that night, already knowing there was no chance of it. His physical exhaustion remained but with the guilt of what he considered doing playing on his conscience, he knew it would be a long time before he would ever be able to dream peacefully again.
Passing by Ohno’s room, he heard a muffled voice coming from inside. Although he wasn’t surprised to learn he wasn’t the only one up, it concerned him to think the elder might not be sleeping well. He needed as much rest as he could get considering his injury. But when Nino backtracked a couple of steps to check, what he heard concerned him far more.
“We have to do something about Matsumoto.” It sounded like Sho’s voice.
Not stopping to consider the rudeness of his action, he stormed inside without knocking. Sho and Ohno startled at the sudden intrusion. The two of them were sitting on the bed, both awake and clearly troubled.
Nino stared at Sho. “What did you say?”
“Nino,” Ohno began, his expression apprehensive.
“It’s fine, he should hear this.” Sho cast Ohno a reassuring look before facing Nino. “I said we need to do something about Matsumoto-kun, and I think you know it too.”
Nino frowned. “All I know is that I don’t like what I’m hearing.”
“I know you care about him-we all do-but we need to face facts,” Sho sighed. He rubbed his temple tiredly. “He’s terrible. He can’t play these games to save his life, which is the most important thing in this place.”
“You’re not exactly a pro at these games either,” Nino reminded him sharply. “You can’t seriously hold it against him just because it’s taking him a bit longer to get the hang of this place.”
“Except the rest of us are finding our niches. You and I have a knack for diamond games-you’re clearly good at hearts too. Aiba-chan does amazing in club games, and Satoshi carries us in spades.” Sho paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Matsujun only struggles.”
“That’s not fair,” Nino interrupted. “He saved us in the Three of Clubs, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“And in the Nine of Clubs, he nearly got himself killed.” With emphasis, Sho added through clenched teeth, “Nine. Times.”
Nino looked to Ohno with daggers burning in his gaze. “Is this what you think too?”
Ohno refused to look him in the eye. “I’m not thrilled about it, but I do think Sho-kun has a point. It does feel like we’re having to pull his weight for him in a lot of these games.”
“Do you regret saving him?” Nino dared to ask.
“I don’t regret saving him,” Ohno murmured. While there was a trace of guilt to be found, his expression mostly consisted of disappointment and sadness. He ran his good hand over his sling, wincing slightly as it slid up to his injured shoulder. “I regret that he needed saving.”
Nino couldn’t believe his ears. “He’s our friend.”
“He’s a burden,” Sho growled. He rose from the bed and paced over to Nino. “Whether you want to accept it or not, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to get either himself or one of us killed. Tonight proved that.”
“You lot weren’t exactly fantastic tonight,” Nino shot back.
“We still did better than him,” Sho retorted. “Tell me the truth, Nino. Do you honestly believe he’s an asset to us? Do you feel safe having him by our side when we enter an arena?”
Nino held his gaze in challenge. As much as he hated it, he had no direct reply to give. He could neither deny nor argue Sho’s point, though every instinct in him was telling him to. When he could think of nothing, he turned away with an agonised wince.
“See?” Sho said. “Friend or not, even you know he’s letting us down.”
“You want me to say that he’s holding us back?” Nino spat, whipping back around. “Fine, maybe we would be better off without him.”
Unbeknownst to all in the room, a silhouette stood in the door left slightly ajar. Jun’s face fell at what he heard. He stood there for a moment longer, not knowing what he should do. Making himself known now was impossible; he knew he ought to leave, to go back to his room and pretend like he never heard any of this, but he couldn’t. It was like his feet were cemented to the ground. And so he stayed, his presence continuing to go unnoticed to those inside.
“But what exactly would you have us do, Sakurai?” Nino demanded. “Cast him out? Sacrifice him in a game? Tell me, what’s your grand plan to rid us of this burden in our midst?”
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Sho stepped back from Nino. He faced the wall with his hands on his hips.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice dropping back to an exasperated whisper. “But something has to change and fast.”
A shattered look adorned Jun’s face. Tears welled up in his eyes when he thought back to their previous challenges. He remembered the moment Ohno pushed him out of the firing line of the tiger, and his unconvincing assurance that he didn’t blame him afterwards. Aiba’s words from their first night rang through his mind as he recalled the four of them standing on the opposite side of the aquarium glass.
“We have each other’s backs-it’s what we do.”
He’d lied when he told them he didn’t realise they’d already escaped. One by one, he’d watched them free themselves and swim to safety, never even noticing his struggles. At the time, he believed it when they said they hadn’t known he was still in there. Now he didn’t know what to think. His hand unconsciously raised to his neck; he choked on his own breath as all his emotions attempted to surface at once in his state of shock. Turning on his heel, he made a hasty retreat before his friends knew he was there.
“I can’t stand to see him get hurt again,” Sho went on. “I want us to get out of here alive but to do that, we need a plan moving forward.” He looked back over his shoulder, meeting Nino’s steely gaze once more. “A plan to protect us all.”
---
Turning back in the entranceway, Jun gazed up at the hotel. He could feel the tears building but refused to let them fall. He was terrified of the unknown fate that lay in wait for him but he’d made up his mind. He had to do this, for them. Rubbing his eyes dry, he mustered a melancholic smile before spinning around. His tearful whisper of “goodbye” echoed in the empty silence of the hotel.